#I made meatballs tonight I know how you loved those

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Hi! If you have no other clegan requests, then I would like this:

"good. now you know what it's like."

(prompt list by @novelbear  - reactions to making someone cry)

Hello dear! I haven't forgotten about you, I just had to sort out and post Chapter 14 of Such stuff before diving into this 🥰 I hope you'll enjoy the angst 😗

1.9k of Angst, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort below the cut

Major Gale Cleven marries his longtime sweetheart, Marjorie Spencer, less than a month after his return to the US after the war. The bride is splendid and radiant and the groom looks as handsome as ever in his uniform — no one needs to know that it doesn't feel right anymore on his body, that the belt's been latched two holes tighter than before the war, that he still feels cold even if it's summer and he's dressed in wool.

Major John Egan, Cleven's best friend, is absolutely charming in his role of best man. He flirts with bridesmaids and old ladies alike, dances dutifully with all the bride's friends that ask him, he laughs, and drinks only a few glasses of whiskey to celebrate — no one needs to know that his hands keep shaking whenever he tries to stay still, that there's a flask tucked into his breast pocket filled with nasty liquor that makes his eyes water every time he takes a sip from it, that his heart is bleeding in his chest for the same exact reason he should be celebrating today.

The bride asks him for a toast, at some point. John forces himself to ignore the spark of worry in the blue depth of the groom's eyes as he stands, clears his throat and raises a glass.

He tells the wedding party tales about the groom. How he once landed a plane with all four engines busted. How he once danced with a dog while completely sober at a party. How he never used to drink anything stronger than a ginger beer but had to take care of drunk comrades too many times to count — and he knows that pretty well, him being the drunk comrade Gale would always take care of. How he is the best man sweet Marge could possibly wish for cause he never gave up on the thought of being reunited with her, not even in the darkest of times.

(What he doesn't say: how the groom had kissed him the night after that nightmare of a flight to Algeria, a kiss with blood and desperation in their mouths, a kiss that had made John feel alive for the first time in months.

How him dancing with Meatball was actually a weird way for Gale to apologize to John for having refused his invitation to go to London together, because he knew what John wanted to do and he wasn't ready to give that to him yet — nevermind all the other kisses they'd shared in abandoned haylofts and dark corner, nevermind all those times they'd found comfort in each other's bodies, nevermind that John had almost sunk on his knees and begged him to go, right there, in front of everyone.

How John had almost drunk himself to death the day Buck went down, and when that didn't kill him he'd driven a jeep drunk out of his mind and then tried to stay on his burning plane to be blown out of the sky and go back to the man he loved.

How his Buck never gave up on the thought of marrying Marge, not even in the darkest days of a bleak German winter, but that didn't stop him to find comfort once again in Bucky's arms, in his mouth, along the sharp lines of his body, between his shaky legs.

How he knows with excruciating precision every sound the groom will make tonight during his wedding night, every whimper and moan, every shaky breath, every whispered curse and breathy laugh.)

John tries to leave the wedding without even saying goodbye but Gale knows him too well. He catches up with him in the parking lot, thanks him wearily for his beautiful toast.

“I forgot to add one thing,” John tells him, because now he really doesn't have anything left to lose. “That I love you, more than anything in the world.”

Gale doesn't say anything back to him, maybe he hopes the sadness in his eyes will be enough.

It's not. John leaves, and doesn't look back.

—

The happy marriage between Gale and Marjorie Cleven crumbles apart in less than one year.

They'll say it was because of the war, that Gale didn't come back as he was before and they couldn't work out anymore.

They'll say it was because of the children, Marge wanted them but Gale never seemed sure enough to actually try, fearing he'd unlock something ugly buried deep inside him, the venom of his father dripping through.

They'll never tell the truth: Gale is in love with someone else. Marge doesn't know who — she had a hunch, but Gale refused to listen to her trying to talk about that, said she wouldn't understand because she wasn't there, she doesn't know. Still, she rightfully refuses to play second fiddle in her own wedding; she gives him the ring back, packs a suitcase and goes home to her parents.

Gale goes home too; not to Casper, Wyoming, nor in South Dakota. He drives a whole day and a whole night to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. To the only place he's ever truly felt at home: with John.

He doesn't have an address so he asks around town if anyone knows where Major Egan lives. A nice lady points him to where the the Egans are staying; Gale doesn't think too much of that weird plural, he figures John's still with his mom and sister as he thinks about what to do after.

He rings the doorbell, practicing in his mind what he's going to tell John once he sees him again.

It's a blonde woman that opens the door, tall and with piercing blue eyes but not the same shade of John's — not his sister, Gale's mind provides.

She looks equally surprised to see him. “Can I help you, Sir?” She asks.

Gale goes through the motions. “Good morning, Ma'am. I'm sorry to disturb you, I'm looking for Major John Egan. We served together, I was passing by and wanted to say hello.”

The woman smiles at his words, almost relieved. “Of course! Any friend of Bucky is welcome here. Bucky! There's someone at the door for you.”

“If it's the pastor I swear I'm going to tell him-” John's familiar voice echoes through the narrow entryway behind the woman as he walks to the door, adjusting his tie, but the words die on his lips as he sees Gale staring right back at him. “Buck,” he says, voice full of wonder and for a second Gale still thinks it's going to be ok. Then the curve of John's mouth sharpens, the surprise sours in his eyes.

“Buck Cleven, what are you doing here?” He asks him, tone wrong, posture tense.

“I was passing through and thought about stopping by,” Gale says, glad now more than ever to have left his duffle bag in the car. “How are you? It's been a while.”

“It sure has,” John says. “I've been good, thank you Buck.” Then his gaze shifts to the woman, like he's just now noticing her here. “Oh, what a disgrace I am! I forgot to properly introduce you two. Jo, this is Buck, one of my best pals from the war. Buck, this is Jo. My wife.”

Those two words lodge themselves into Gale's heart.

“Oh. I didn't know you got married, congratulations", he tells John, voice strangled, hands fisted at his sides.

“Yeah, it's been a short engagement but what can I say, when you know you know, right Buck?”

Gale nods. “Right. Well, I better go now, I don't want to make you late for work. Jo, it's been a pleasure to meet you,” he says, and retreats to his car. He hears hushed voices behind him and tries to walk faster, but the door closes and John reaches him just before he can open the door to his car.

“Buck,” John says again, harsher this time. “Buck, look at me.”

Gale exhales and turns. “What?” He asks, chin raised in defiance.

“Why are you here?”

“Marge left. We couldn't make it work, the war changed too many things. It changed me, too much,” Gale says then he adds, “She knew.”

“She knew what?”

“That I'm in love with someone else. That I'm in love with you,” Gale spits out, cheeks getting hotter and hotter by the minute. It's getting harder to breathe and to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay; he fails, John's face in front of him suddenly blurry.

“Are you crying?” John asks. When Gale doesn't answer, he talks again. “Good. Now you know what it's like.”

“Did you marry her just to spite me?” Gale asks, outraged. “Were you just waiting for me to cave?”

“No, Buck. I married her because she's a nice woman, she treats me well, and she doesn't really care if I had someone else before or during the war.”

“She fucking looks like me.”

“That's a plus,” John admits. “She's also a pilot, so. And she's my wife, and we've been talking about building a family.”

“And what about me?”

“What?”

“What about the fact that I fucking love you?” Gale almost shouts, remembering at the last second that they're not alone in the world — there's also Bucky's wife, apparently, and their neighbors. The words come out of him in a strangled whisper, more tears now running freely down his cheeks.

John laughs. “You know, I could do exactly what you did when I told you that at your wedding. But I know what that felt like, so I won't. I'm going to tell you things exactly how they are: I loved you, I loved you so much. You broke my heart and moved on, and I had to move on too. I have a wife, I love her. I love you less, but I still love you. There's no place in my life for you, not now, not like this.”

Gale feels like he's breathing molten led, not air. “And what am I supposed to do?” He asks.

There's sadness in John's eyes now, and something too akin to love not to make Gale's heart ache. “I don't know, Buck. You'll have to figure it out. It's better this way, I promise.”

“But I love you,” Gale tries again. This time, John yields and hugs him.

“I love you too,” he murmurs in Gale's ear. “But we cannot make it work. I am so sorry, Buck, so fucking sorry.”

It's not your fault, Gale thinks. It's mine.

He extricates himself from John's hold. “There's nothing to be sorry about,” he mumbles. “I'll be fine. And if you ever need me for something, anything, you just have to call, ok? Anything, I mean it.”

(What he doesn't say: if you ever get tired of her, if you ever want to pick things back up from where we left them, if you ever feel lonely or bored one day, call me and I'll be there, waiting for you, atoning the sin of having let you go.)

John's always read him like an open book. “Thank you, Buck. I'll see ya,” he says, and goes back to his house — to his wife.

But Gale reads him perfectly too, and he knows one thing for sure: sooner or later, he'll be back.

Now it's his turn to sit and wait.

[blakelysco-pilot]

Hallelujah, I Love Her So

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part SIx Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Something big is brewing, and The Brass is keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross girls are forced to navigate through the murky waters of changes on base, revelations, new faces and chance meetings. Val is forced to face feelings from the past that rear their ugly head in the face of something beautiful, but she is determined not to let the past get in the way of her future.

Part Five Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

Sleep. More often than not, it was restless, and usually cut short due to obligations. This time, it was simply because no one had wanted to go to bed. After a week of restlessness and arguing, finally, they had all found peace. Olive and Doug had made up, and Douglass had finally understood what everyone had been trying to tell him all along- Olive only cared for him. While Val had been nothing short of thrilled that her best friends had finally gotten past their troubles and become a couple, what had made her exponentially happy was knowing that her and Everett had not pushed themselves so far in defending their friends that they ruined their own relationship. Benny had made up with Dougie, the two reaching an understanding that Benny was now to Olive what Curt was to Val- a brother. Curt had spent the entire walk back to the huts from the hardstand bellowing how he had the best night ever, and it had been funny, until BED. ALL OF YOU had come blasting over the tannoy and Red Bowman had sent them all to their respective racks. 

Now, as Val woke feeling as refreshed as one can be for getting to bed as the sun came up, she was determined to make the most of a day that didn’t include fighting or disagreements. Olive, it seemed, was already up and out of the hut along with Tattie. Helen was still somewhere in dreamland, even as the clock slowly approached nine. Sitting up in her bed, Val called over to Helen softly, hoping it would be enough to rouse the woman from her sleep. 

“Helen, doll, it's almost nine.”

“Hmm, that’s nice…”

“Helen, we have to start getting up and out to the truck.”

“Bring the truck here….” She mumbled, face still pressed into her pillow. 

“Christ sake,” Val stood from her bed, bare feet padding over to Helen’s bed. “Helen, come on chickie, time to get up.”

“But we just went to bed…” She groaned, prying one eye open and looking up at Val. 

“I know, but we can turn in early tonight, yea?”

“Yea, okay,” She sighed, sitting up and meeting Val’s equally tired gaze full on. “Those two early birds are already at the truck?”

“Yes, now let’s put a little pep in our step before Tattie comes round, okay?”

Nodding, Helen let Val pull her from the warmth of her blankets before the pair of them began getting ready for the day. 

Val and Helen had gotten themselves cleaned up and into their jumpsuits in record time. Helen resolved to finish pinning her hair under her scarf on the walk over to the truck while Val blindly applied her lipstick mid stride. By the time they reached Olive and Tattie, the truck was set up and both girls were enjoying a cup of coffee while tossing the ball with Meatball. Demarco must have been up and at it early if he’d relinquished his best pal to the girls before the day really got going. 

“Good morning boy, hi!” Val looked over at the husky who was panting, ball in mouth, and staring up at her with big blue eyes. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen rolled her eyes with a smile. 

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie.” Olive pointed at her with a cheeky smile. 

“He was closest,” Helen grumbled. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly.” 

At the mention of his owner, Meatball promptly dropped the ball to the ground and let out a loud howl. Maybe Cleven was right and he was part wolf. 

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouched down to ruffle the fur between his ears, the dog mistaking her affection for playtime and jumping up onto her. 

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughed, unable to pull him off of Olive as he continued to pounce and lick at her face. 

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice rang out as he walked up the path to the Clubmobile, smirk on his lips and pep in his step. 

“Fella, yes,” Olive looked up at him from her place on the ground. “He’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Doug approached the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off of Olive, promptly handing him off to Ev, who had joined him in his quest for coffee. 

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questioned the group, looking at the exhausted faces of his friends as he helped Olive off the ground. 

“Barely,” Val sighed, moving to snuggle into Everett’s side. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighed, placing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groaned, her back turned to the path, she didn’t see the man in question approaching. 

“Speak of the devil.” 

Tattie gestured behind Val, causing Ev to turn them both to see Curt coming towards them, bright eyed and bushy tailed. 

“Morning yous guys!” He beamed, voice booming as he took up the spot on Val’s other side. 

“Shh, too loud.” Helen scolded him. 

“Who’s too loud? Meatball? Yea I heard em all the way across the field!”

“Curt…” Val warned, sending him a glare. 

“The gal’s grouchy this morning, Blakely.” He mumbled, cigarette now wedged between his lips as he pulled out his lighted. 

“Biddick,” Ev looked over at him. “Shut up.”

“Can I at least have a coffee?” He looked at the four girls, trying to figure out which one was most likely to concede. 

“Fine, come on, you perky son of a bitch.” Tattie gestured to the truck, leaving Curt out by the hatch as she rounded the back to go inside. 

“Thanks, Tat,” He grinned. “Oh, Val, Harding’s looking for ya, he’s in the glass house.”

“You should have led with that, Curt…”

“Yea, sorry about that, I got distracted.”

“Christ sake, okay,” She pried herself out from Everett’s arm and headed for the truck, the pilot still clutching Meatball’s harness in the other hand. “Might as well bring some coffee up for the boys.”

“I’ll walk you,” Ev called over to her. “I needed to talk to Kidd anyway.”

“Thank you honey,” She poked her head out of the truck, now inside putting together a tray of coffee and some donuts for the boys in Operations. “You can help me carry this.”

“Here Curt, you’re on Meatball duty till Benny gets back.” Everett handed off the leash to Curt, moving to the window of the truck to take what Val was passing down to him. 

With his hands full, he stood waiting for Valencia to exit the truck. Her own hands full, the pair began their walk towards Operations. They bid their friends goodbye over their shoulders, and began a leisurely walk over towards the control tower. Val was balancing a tray of coffee while Everett dutifully carried a tray with donuts. While some men might have balked at doing something so domestic, he welcomed the moment with Val by his side. 

“What’s going on with Jack,” She glanced over at him before looking back towards the path they were walking. “Anything I should be worried about?” 

“Honestly, can’t say for certain,” He dropped a sigh before continuing. “Could be anything from a switch in my crew to wanting to go up and practice.”

“Why could he possibly want to switch out of your crew?”

“There’s replacements coming in...”

“When?”

“Not sure, which might be what Harding wants to see you about.”

“The hell am I supposed to do with replacements?”

“Welcome them with open arms the way you welcomed me, sweetheart.” He grinned, offering her a wink as they came to a stop outside the Control Tower. 

“They’re hardly getting a wink and a smile,” She sighed, shaking her head as he pulled open the door for her. “And my dance card is full, Captain Blakely.”

“Ooh, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He let out a low laugh, careful not to make too much noise now that they were inside. 

The center of the Control Tower, ground level, wasn’t brightly lit. It was bathed in an almost orange glow, and was made up of small offices inside around the perimeter. The center of the room, The Pit, as Red sometimes referred to it, held one big table in the middle adorned with maps, and had floor to ceiling chalkboards on either side of it. Each chalkboard ran the list of every plane within the 100th. All of the forts, their tail numbers and corresponding names and the lead pilot. You could see where someone’s fort had been erased- the names of those who went down or were MIA, simply erased from Thorpe Abbotts. Val realized if she allowed herself to look at it for too long, the worry of Everett’s name, or Curt’s being erased from the board would begin to sink in. Instead, she chose to focus on Chick Harding, who was standing next to Jack Kidd, hands on his narrow hips and cigar wedged between his lips. 

“G’morning Chicky,” She approached with a smile, the coffee still piping hot on the tray. “Jack.”

“Valencia…”

“Brought you boys some coffee and Ev’s got the donuts.”

“Blakely, did you join the Red Cross and forget to tell us?” Harding barked out a laugh, the smoke from his stogie billowing up around him. 

“Helping Val, Colonel,” Everett placed the other tray down next to where Val had placed the coffees. “She’s only got two hands and I was already headed to see the Major.”

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” Harding slapped a hand down over Blakely’s shoulder before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m sure she appreciates the extra hand, don’t ya Valencia.”

“Oh, I always do.” She smiled, looking  over her shoulder at Ev and giving him a wink before turning back to Harding. 

“Alright, well, grab yourself a coffee and come with me.” Harding turned and began walking towards the big table in the center of the room, Val following closely behind him. 

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Ev disappear into one of the offices with Jack, the pair of them talking quietly before Kidd shut the door behind him. Attention again on following Colonel Harding, he stopped suddenly, turning to face her, eyebrows raised and cigar pinched between two fingers. 

“Gotta wait for Red,” He nodded. “Did you get yourself a coffee?”

“Oh, no…”

“Go on then I know you were all up with the sun this morning.” He looked at her with a brow raised, smirk painting his lips. 

“More or less,” She mumbled, turning and hurrying back to where she left the coffee. “Did you eat anything this morning, Chicky?”

“I’ll take a donut as long as Demarco’s dog ain’t get near them.”

“They’re Meatball free, grouchy.” She rolled her eyes as she handed it over to him, hearing the beginning of a scoff coming from him, before someone clearing their throat interrupted him. 

Red Bowman appeared in front of them, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised in amusement at the banter between the pair of them. 

“She’s got your number, Chick,” Red’s thick New England accent was light, a bit more jovial than Chick was in the mornings. “Morning Miss Val, thank you for the coffee.”

“Morning Red, and you’re quite welcome.”

“Are you two done torturing me?” Harding scoffed, gesturing with his hand that held the donut to the folders in front of him at the table. 

“Go on then,” Bowman nodded, plucking a coffee from the tray. “I’m sure she’s wondering why you needed her if it’s not to type up your reports.”

“No reports?” Val looked between the two men, brows creased. 

“We’ve got replacement crews coming in,” Harding started, gesturing to the folders and piles of paperwork scattered around the table. “Fellas are going to need a warm welcome, and I thought you and Helen might be willing to set up the Interrogation hut.”

“You want coffee and whiskey then?”

“That and if you can spare some of the sweets from the Clubmobile,” Red added. 

“A hershey bar or two, sure,” She nodded. “But my dance card is full, gentlemen.”

“Wasn’t asking you to give Blakely the boot for a replacement,” Harding laughed. “I’m not blind, Valencia, I know what’s going on there.”

“Out till the sun came up,” Red shook his head in a laugh. “And still up and doing her job.”

“Well, someone has to caffeinate you boys. And feed you, too, it seems.”

“So you’ll be there to welcome the new boys?”

“I’ll talk to Helen when I get back to the truck,” Val nodded in agreement. “When do they get here?”

“Noon.”

“Noon, today!”

“Yes, Valencia, noon today.” Chick drawled, exhaling from his cigar.

“Christ, Chicky, a bit last minute don’t you think?” 

“We found out last night.” Red interjected, watching as the furrow on her face turned deeper with each passing second. 

“Well, then I need to get back,” Val nodded, bidding a farewell to both the men, swiping a donut off the tray she had left for them. “And pray that Helen is still standing when I get there.”

She didn’t see Red and Harding chuckling at her as her back was turned, both men fully aware that she’d get the job done despite the small window to do it. She also missed the door to Jack’s office opening as Everett exited, his own brow starting to look like his girlfriends. 

“We’ll get it done, Blakely,” Jack murmured from behind him. “I know we will.”

“Yeah… we know when these crews are coming in?”

“Today, 1200 hours,” Jack sighed. “Harding has Val setting up interrogation for them.”

“New fellas are gonna love that,” Everett chuckled, the irony of the new crew’s being greeted by a pretty Red Cross girl not lost on him. “She’s gonna give those boys hell.”

“She already gives all of us hell.” Jack cracked a smile, his usually tough exterior slipping as he extended his hand for Blakely. 

“Almost all of us.” Shaking Jack’s hand, the two pilots shared a knowing look before Ev turned to leave the Control Tower. “I’m in the clear.”

————————————

“Tell me again,” Helen groaned, twisting the top off the whiskey bottle. “Why Harding doesn’t want all of us?” 

“I wish I knew,” Val sighed, shuffling past Helen with a tray of donuts wedged against her hip. “He just asked for me and you to be here.”

“Knowing Chicky, he doesn’t want Meatball in here jumping all over everyone.”

“The Hundredth’s mascot, banned from the welcoming committee. What a sin.”

At the mention of the husky, both girls could hear him barking and howling from across the field by the Clubmobile. Sticking her head out the door, Val could see Demarco making his way over to them, Meatball pulling and tugging at his leash excitedly at his owner returning. 

“Benny’s back,” She turned to Helen who was lining up the glasses, pouring two fingers worth of whiskey into each of them. “And heading our way.”

“So much for keeping Meatball out of here.” Helen chuckled. 

“Hey! You girls need a hand?” Benny stuck his head inside the door, Meatball immediately trying to get inside. 

“Hi,” Helen turned, chucking the empty whiskey bottle into the trash before moving to the coffee cups. “We’re good, but, shouldn’t you be getting the racks ready with the rest of the fellas for the new guys?”

“To be honest, Helen, I’m not exactly bursting at the seams to meet the new kids.” 

His face said what he wasn’t, or couldn’t, about the men coming in. They would be filling the empty racks of those who hadn’t made it back; friends that were lost, or dead, and the original boys were reluctant to get too close. Nobody wanted to lose any more friends than they already had. It had been two months since the original crews flew in from Greenland, thirty-five crews had landed that day and Val had been in this exact same spot welcoming the boys who would become her friends to Thorpe Abbotts with a whiskey and a smile. She’d do the same today, but would these boys be here long enough to become friends? God, she hoped so, that for their sake they wouldn’t go up into the clouds with high hopes and never see the ground below again. 

“You girls sure you don’t need help?” He was procrastinating going back to his rack.

“Leave Meatball with Olive and Tattie,” Val gestured back to the Clubmobile. “The new boys should at least be able to have a snack without his hair all over it.”

“Alright,” He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s an urn with coffee on the truck. It’s full, and needs two people to bring it over here.” 

“I can grab it.” Benny nodded, moving to bring Meatball back to the truck. 

“Benny you need two people, trust me,” Val followed him outside. “It’s also piping hot.”

John Brady was at the window as the pair of them approached, chatting animatedly with Olive about Shakespeare and his sweetheart back home, Juliet. The two girls had become quick penpals, and Brady had taken to including Olive’s letters with his so that nothing got lost in the mail. Whenever Brady had a spare moment, him and Olive would indulge each other in conversation. It was easy to see that John Brady’s favorite thing to talk about was Juliet. Val found it quite sweet, that the usually stoic, pipe smoking saxophone player softened at the mere mention of her name. 

“Hey Brady,” Val nudged his shoulder with hers as she passed. “How’s Juliet?”

“Jules is good, thanks for asking Val,” He grinned as Olive handed him a pack of gum. “Her birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Well, make sure you send her a wish from me.” 

“I will. I tell her all about you girls, and if I don’t, I know Olive does.”

“Good,” Val nodded, taking Benny by the elbow once he returned from tying Meatball back up by the girls. “One day I’d like to meet the girl who makes John Brady all starry eyed.”

With a wink, Val and Benny made their way into the back of the Clubmobile to collect the urn and take it back to the hut. There was a second urn already in use by Olive and Tattie, the girls taking coffee from that one for the boys that passed by. 

“Handles on the side, Ben,” Val directed him to one side while she settled on the other. “On three.”

“Uno, dùe, trè?”

“Yes,” She laughed, waiting for him to count off in Italian. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it…”

On his count, the pair of them lifted the urn and began moving to exit the truck, Benny taking the stairs backwards while Val guided him down one at a time. Once on the grass, they walked side by side, the urn between them, back towards the hut. They moved quickly, silently, and once inside, Helen was making space for them to put it down on one of the tables. She’d set the cups out on one side of the table, enough sugar to get by before the next delivery of rations came in, and milk that the local farmers graciously brought to base every few days. All that was missing was the men filling the room, nervous and excited energy of their flight in and what was to come. The prospect of the fight ahead glimmering in their eyes. 

“You girls all set?”

“All set, Benny,” Val smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

“Any time cugine,” He winked. 

“What did you just call her!?” Helen balked.

“Cugine,” Benny laughed. “It means cousin but not really a cousin.”

“Right, like we think of each other as family but there’s no bloodline.” Val explained. 

“Italians have a word for everything!” 

“Here’s another one,” Val turned back to Benny just as she caught Chicky and Red coming towards the hut. “Vai.”

Go.

“And I’m gone.” Benny grinned, scooting out the door and jogging across to the Clubmobile to pick up Meatball. 

The Interrogation hut was busy in almost no time at all. Almost as soon as Harding and Red had joined the two girls, the sound of B-17 engines overtook the entire air base. Jack Kidd was out on the hardstands with the two Majors, getting the new fellas into trucks, speeding off towards Interrogation where Red and Chick would do their part in making sure each fort arrived safely and without issue. Val and Helen were there to greet them with a smile and a warm cup of coffee, or something stronger for those who preferred it. 

They all looked so fresh faced as they entered the hut, and Val could see the excitement in some of them. Young boys ready to fight, who if she had to guess, didn’t even know just how bad it was up there. In retrospect, neither did any of the original boys when they first got here, and she remembered the vacant look on Gale Cleven’s face the afternoon they had returned from Bremen. The shock and fear that had full body encompassed the man as he tried to explain what had happened up there. The whiskey he declined, that Egan had promptly poured into his coffee, the noise in the back of the hut he had walked into, choosing to let Curt do all the talking for him. How many of these new faces would look the same in the coming days, weeks, months. How many of them would she even see return? 

She had just turned to pour more coffee when a crew entered the room, the pilot looking every bit the part. Dark curls tamed with pomade, bright blue eyes and a mustache- no lucky strike. He was a handsome fella, and offered her a kind smile in return of her own as she offered up a choice of refreshments. 

“Coffee or whiskey, Lieutenant?” She smiled, holding one of each in either hand. 

“Coffee, please, ma’am.” He nodded politely, and Val clocked an accent that she had only heard from one other person on base. This man was from home. Her home. 

“Here you go.” She handed him the cup, ready to move on to the next man in his crew, a shorter man, young but sporting a bald spot under his crush cap. She assumed he was the Co-Pilot, and he was eyeing up the whiskey. 

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Val,” She nodded. “Not ma’am or Miss. Val is just fine Lieutenant…”

“Rosenthal. Robert Rosenthal.”

“Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts, Robert.”

The Lieutenant was moving further into the room as Val quickly passed a glass with whiskey to his Co-Pilot, the man grinning as soon as his fingers wrapped around the glass. 

“Ah jeez, thanks Miss!”

“You’re welcome, now go on, the Colonel is waiting.” She gestured to where Harding was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, a cloud of smoke swirling around him. 

“Oh, shoot!” The Co-Pilot cursed, running off behind the rest of his crew to join them, whiskey in hand. 

Shaking her head, Val carried on with offering up refreshments, watching out of the corner of her eye as Helen chatted with a young pilot who had come in behind Rosenthal and his crew. For someone who had been so sleepy this morning, willing to serve coffee and donuts from the warmth of her bed, Helen looked positively glowing as she poured what looked like a second whiskey for the man. Normally, she’d give Helen a look, but the girl had sat by while she and Olive did the same every time Everett and Dougie walked past the Clubmobile or into the hut. It was important to Val that all of them found a sliver of happiness, and maybe, this new pilot would be to Helen what Ev was to her. 

When he leaves her with a dashing smile, Val turns quickly, busying herself with stacking empty glasses and cleaning up crumbs, so as to not get caught spying. Just as the nameless pilot reaches the door, he turns and calls out to Helen, a slight twang to his voice and a sparkle in his eye. 

“See you later, Helen of Troy.” He winks, and joins the rest of the crews in the other room, leaving the two women standing there speechless. 

“Helen of Troy?” Val turns to Helen, who’s trying furiously to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Unsuccessfully if she had anything to say about it. 

“He’s charming…”

“Yes, he certainly is!”

“You are the leading authority on charming pilots, DiRosano.” She teased.

“Shush, you know what I mean,” Val waves her off, picking up the tray of glasses she stacked, and heads for the door. “What’s his name?”

“Hmm?” Helen seems dazed, lost in a fantasy, and Val can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Oh here we go,” She grins. “His name, Helen. What was the charming pilot's name?”

“Oh! Nash,” The blush was not ceasing its takeover of her fair skin. “Lieutenant Herbert Nash.”

“Well, he certainly seems to have his sights set on you!”

Just as Helen was about to respond, the door opened and Red Bowman stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the front of the hut for something before landing on the coffee urn, and then over to the two girls cleaning up. 

“Any more in there, girls?” He gestured to the urn, cigarette between two fingers. 

“For you, Red? You don’t even have to ask.” Val winked, setting the tray down by the door to go pour him a coffee. 

“Thank you, Valencia,” He groaned, pinching between his brows with two fingers. “These new kids are… Well, they’re kids.”

“They’re just anxious,” Handing over the cup, black with sugar, she could see something behind his eyes. Something fearful. “Same as the other boys were anxious when they got here.”

“These boys somehow seem younger than your boys.” Red sighed, and she could very clearly see the worry on his face. 

“Our boys will lead them through,” Val nodded, knowing she felt the same worry even though Ev and Curt had been on their fair share of missions, that worry never subsided. “I know they will.”

She had spent the rest of the afternoon repeating her own words over and over. Our boys will lead them through tumbling over and over like a stone as she willed it to be true. She had seen too many men lose the fight already, coffee and a kind send off one minute, and the next she was scanning the faces as they shuffled through the door to see who had made it back and silently taking stock of the missing men. Quietly, she would keep their names off to the side, knowing that Curt and Ev were the ones who would see them meet their demise- hard as it was for the girls to not see those boys again it was infinitely harder on the boys who saw it happen first hand. Friends lost, sons, husbands and brothers who would never see home again. That, she had realized, was exactly what she had welcomed to Thorpe Abbotts earlier today. Boys that, if she had to guess, a handful or more would never see the inside of that hut again after their first raid. Boys who would maybe get to spend one night in the Officers Club with a good pretty girl to dance with and a hope that maybe she’d be waiting. Chances are she would be waiting, but what would return, no one could say for certain. 

“You’re quiet,” Tattie looked up from where she was putting away the leftover snacks and newspapers in the Clubmobile. “Everything go alright with the new boys?”

“Oh,  yea, they were fine. Eager.” She punctuates the sentence with a forced laugh. 

“I figured as much. When they went past they were all wide eyed like it was Christmas morning.”

“Red looked a little nervous,” She slid the empty coffee urn back onto the shelf, turning to face Tattie. “He kept going on about how they were just kids.” 

“They are kids,” Tattie shook her head. “This damn war.”

“I get why Benny didn’t want to be around when they showed up…”

“Almost all the boys went up for practice just before the new forts landed.”

“Are we wrong to get attached?” Val questioned, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t mean Ev or Doug, but the other boys.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, remembering Croz’s wife’s name, or how Claytor takes his coffee. Checking the score of the Yankees game in a three day old paper from home just so Egan has a better morning. That kind of stuff.”

Val lets her gaze fall to Olive who’s cleaning up outside the truck with Helen, the latter telling her all about their afternoon and the crews that had come through. She can’t help but hope that disappointment doesn’t find its way to her friend, the smile on her face giving Val the reminder of what they’re doing here and why they’re doing it. It’s more than coffee and donuts or snacks for the boys. It’s a smile that reminds them they’re still human, that they’re not just killing machines trained to fight a war; the boy who left home is still in there somewhere. It’s a friendly ear when their sweetheart sends a letter and they can’t wait to see someone about it. Or when their newborn starts crawling and their wife writes to tell them all about it in such detail it’s as if they’re seeing it happen in their mind's eye. It’s someone remembering how they take their coffee or who their favorite baseball team is. It’s having friends and someone to laugh with. If it meant being able to smile and making someone else smile, she didn’t mind getting attached all that much. They were good guys. Flyboys, sure, but they were good. 

“No,” Tattie shook her head, a smile on her face. “I think it’s important we get attached to our boys.”

“Our boys…”

“Well, who else is going to look after them?”

“In the sky, they look after each other. But down here, on the ground, you’re right Tat… those are our boys.”

“And that damn dog.” She rolled her eyes, a stream of smoke passing through her lips. 

“No,” She grinned. “We can’t forget about Meatball.”

———————————————————————————

She had walked back to the hut with Tattie, the two smoking and chatting idly as they took stock of all the new faces walking around base. Thorpe Abbotts seemed crowded now, the new fellas plus those who had been here from the start now taking up space in every available hut, rack and seat in the mess hall. All the hardstands were occupied and in the back of her head she filed away that they’d be brewing more coffee and making more donuts each day. 

She’d hoped to run into Everett on her way back. They had parted ways in the Control tower that morning, and when she had left he was still in Jack’s office. Had she known they were in there shooting the shit, she’d have popped her head in and snarked at Jack a bit before leaving them both, but when Ev mentioned he needed to see Jack for something, she wasn’t about to interrupt that. She could surmise that the boys had their hands full now, but she’d remain hopeful that they’d see each other in the mess hall; or at the very least, he’d come find her before it was lights out on base. And considering no one slept the night before, they’d all be lights out pretty early if she had to venture a guess. 

“Olive said you didn’t even go to bed last night?”

“Oh, no. Delays the hangover.” 

“And how do you feel now, Spaatz?”

“Like the Clubmobile rolled over me, reversed, and rolled over me again.” She groaned. 

“That’s certainly one way to describe a hangover.” Val laughed, not missing the scowl on Tattie’s face as she nudged her. 

“And you?” The other woman questioned, eyebrows raised. “How are you feeling now that everything’s settled with Olive and Douglass?” 

“I’m exhausted,” Val groaned. “But it’s a good exhausted, you know what I mean?”

“There’s a good way to be tired?”

“Sure there is!” Val exclaimed, explanation at the ready. “It’s like, when you come home after a night on the town; you danced all night and your feet hurt, and it’s a chore to even open the jar of cold cream, but you had the most wonderful time and you’d do it all over again…”

“So you’re not saying you’d argue with Blakely again, but…”

“But I’d sit out in the grass with all of you and watch the sun come up every night if I could.” 

“Back at you, Valencia.” 

Just as they reached the door of their hut, they could hear Olive and Helen inside already, the pair giggling quietly. Helen had been in a quiet daze all day after her encounter with the charming replacement pilot in Interrogation earlier. It seemed he had left such an impression on Helen that she wanted to tell any of the girls who would listen; Val would listen a hundred times over to see her friend smile. Pushing the door open, the two girls looked over from Olive’s bed, smiles wide and eyes sparking with mischief. 

“You’ve got mail…” Olive’s tone was a playful, sing-song. 

“What don’t I know?” Her green eyes narrowed in playful scrutiny as she made her way towards her bed, finding a piece of her own floral printed stationery laying folder on the pillow. 

“Nope!” Olive mimed zipping her lips.

“Olive!” Val stomped her foot like a petulant child, shaking her head as she picked up the paper, smiling as she unfolded it to find Everett’s messy handwriting scrawled across it. 

Honey-

Saw you were swarmed with new faces in interrogation and didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be back a bit later. Our crew is taking a few of the new fellas up on a practice run. I’ll be back in time to eat with you in the Officer's Mess tonight- pick you up at 5:30. I Love you!”

-E

Her eyes flew across the paper three times before finally looking up. Olive’s gaze was there to meet hers, the Brit now standing in front of Val, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her face. 

“He…oh my god…”

“He what, honey?” Helen, who was still perched on Olive’s bed, looked over in concern.

“That’s the first time… In a note!”

“The first time for what?” Helen, again, posed the question to Val. 

“Val? Honey, are you okay?” This time it was Tattie.

“DID YOU KNOW!?” Val’s gaze turned wide and sharp as she focused on Olive, her voice a few octaves higher than it should have been. 

“Did I know what?” The other woman teased, her voice taking on an almost innocent tone. 

“THIS!” Val waved the sheet of stationary in her face. 

“What’s it say?” Olive jokingly tried to peer around it, hoping to catch a word or two. 

“English, please!”

“Okay, okay…” She finally relented, taking the seat next to Val on the bed. “I promised him I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier. I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yea okay, you two were reading.” Val rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive! Please tell me that I’m not sitting where…” 

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.” 

“As long as I’m not- “

“Would you two please focus! Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie rolled her eyes, walking past on her way to the showers. 

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She shouted, remaining in the conversation while freshening up. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for starters, it’s the way you gaze into each other's eyes when you think no one is looking…” Helen grinned, rolling over to her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands and feet in the air like she was at a slumber party. 

“Or when we are looking.” Olive teased, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Val. “Here Chicken, come on…”

Val gratefully accepts the cigarette from Olive, taking a long pull before exhaling again. Her next words come out in a swirl of white smoke, her eyes glassy like she’s lost in a memory. 

“The last person who told me they loved me…”

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie’s head popped out from the wall of the bathroom. 

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighed. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.” 

“No, it’s okay. I want to,” She sighed. “I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?”

“He was a real sweet talker,” She started. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.”

“Oh…”

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, and made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…”

“No,” Shaking her head violently, she took another drag of her cigarette. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So what happened?”

“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”

“Oh no…” Helen’s hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she put two and two together. 

“He was with another woman,” She shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes. In the police station. Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!”

“I had to identify them both,” She sighed. “Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my god!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective, and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector isn’t he…”

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did!?”

“He did…” She smiled, the cigarette now burned nearly down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckled. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie had joined them back in the main area of the hut. 

“That I love him too,” She grinned. “Because I do love him.”

Everett’s note to Val was now safely tucked into the book on her side table. The first I Love You now pressed gently between the pages of The Great Gatsby so that she could fix herself up in time for dinner. Eating in the Officers Mess meant putting on your cleanest uniform, and her coffee stained, donut greased, jumpsuit would not do. Not when Chick Harding was a few tables away, and the high ranking members of their airbase were dining in the same room. That’s what she told herself at least, as she sat in front of the mirror in her skirt and blouse, pinning her hair so that it fell neatly against her shoulders. 

The neatly pressed uniform was for The Brass, but the victory red lips, mascara on her lashes and rouge pinched cheeks were for Everett. She knew that even if she was still wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease or Meatball’s fur, he’d still pull her close and kiss her hello, but she liked the idea of getting primped for him. For looking clean on his arm when she knew he’d be showing up in a clean uniform as well. At the mirror next to her, Olive was doing the same thing. Painstakingly pinning her hair away from her face, and applying her lipstick just so that Dougie could kiss it off of her later, she was sure. 

“That color looks good on you.” 

“Yea?” Olive glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror, eyes only just meeting hers before going back to her hair. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all, it’s the perfect shade of red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckled. She remembered the first time Val had helped her get ready for the club and had applied her own red lipstick, the brighter red just not working with her skin at all. “It was not for me.”

“Oh gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off!”

“Immediate no,” Olive laughed, a sigh immediately following as she threw a hair pin to the table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stood, coming to stand behind her as she deftly began rolling Olive’s hair between her fingers and pinning it back for her. 

“How do you do it?”

“From an early age my mother taught me to be a ‘proper lady’,” She shook her head before breaking out into an impression of her mother. “Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.”

Olive laughed fully at Val’s broken English accent, making it sound as if her Italian mother was in the room with them. 

“Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh yes. And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” Olive looked up at her as she put the final pin in place. “I need to pay better attention when you do your hair.” 

“You’re doing just fine chickie,” Val winked, slipping on her watch and moving to pick her jacket up off the bed. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beamed, pushing back from the vanity and standing to put her own jacket on. “Now come on, it’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside.” Val finished for her. 

Ev stood with Doug outside, the two men smoking while quietly discussing their practice mission earlier today with the replacements. Ev had taken a handful of the new boys up, and leading the wing, tested them on formations, calling out patterns, and PR’s from the Navigators to Radio Men. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop, all the boys in Just A Snappin had watched to see just what the new boys were capable of. There had been two forts in particular they’d been impressed with, but for the most part, the new boys were as green as the paint on a B-17. 

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that's not happening…”

“I know,” Ev groaned. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we're about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud,” Doug grumbled. “Never stops raining.”

“This one sounds big…”

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit… it would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

““Yea,” Ev took a final pull of his cigarette before tossing it in the makeshift ashtray outside the girls’ hut. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…” Dougie sighed. 

“Those two from Laredo were damn good,” Ev raised an eyebrow at him. “Rosenthal and Nash?”

“That kid Rosie almost gave you a run for your money, pal.”

“I’m not worried about him,” Ev nodded. “But some of these other kids wouldn’t know formation if I had it painted on the wing.”

Douglass was about to reply with a quick remark about how they should paint it on the wing, when the door opened and Val and Olive appeared. Both girls in their Red Cross dress uniform, a far cry from the sleepy faces they had found at the Clubmobile earlier in the day. Ev’s gaze immediately found Val’s, his hazel eyes finding hers just as her smile widened. Obviously she had seen his note, she was ready at the time he had told her to be, but what had she thought of that truth bomb he had dropped? Suddenly a bit nervous, he played it off with a kiss, greeting her as he did every time they were together. 

“Hi, pretty,” He pulled back, smiling at her. “How was your day?”

“Oh my day was lovely, dear,” She teased. “Did you have fun with the replacements?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Taking her hand, he began leading her away from the hut, checking over his shoulder to find Olive and Doug still greeting each other. “Were they respectful at least when they showed up?”

“Oh, very!” She nodded. “I think one of the new boys might be from Brooklyn, but I need to find out.”

“Another face from home,” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Curt will love that.”

“He sounded it when I handed him his coffee earlier.” 

“Did you catch his name?”

“Rosenthal…”

“Oh, Rosie!” Ev’s eyes went wide. “His crew went up with us after they met with Chick. He’s a pilot and boy can he fly.”

“Yea? Him and his Co-Pilot passed through kind of quickly, but their friend took a shine to Helen and lingered.”

“Let me guess,” Ev laughed. “Nash?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“He was yappin up a storm in the equipment hut about the pretty Red Cross girl who served him whiskey and Dougie and I heard him.”

“Dougie didn’t try to strangle him, did he?”

“No,” He punches out a laugh, recalling the week they’ve all just endured. “We had a feeling it was Helen since Tattie was in the truck when we left.”

“She’s smitten, that’s for sure.”

“Well, for his sake, he better treat her right.”

Val nodded in agreement as they reached the Officers Mess, Everett pulling the door open for her and allowing her to enter ahead of him. Once they were both inside, he led her to a table, one hand on the small of her back, the other quickly pulling his crush cap off and tucking it under his arm. He found Benny saving a few seats in the middle of the room, Croz already seated across from him, John Brady to his left. The three of them were talking animatedly, Meatball’s head resting between Croz and Brady. 

“Fellas,” Ev greeted, pulling out a chair for Val and waiting for her to sit. “How’re we all doing?”

“Blakely,” Brady offered in greeting. “Nice to see you outside the truck, Val.”

“You saw me in the club last night…”

“I know but, this is what Jules would call a proper conversation. So, it’s…”

“Nice to not be rushed off from the truck, or shouting over the band in the club. I hear you.”

“Exactly, yes.”

“Dougie with you, Ev?” Benny looked over at him, Ev now in the seat across from Val so that they could see each other. He also ventured a guess that she’d want Olive next to her. 

“He and Olive were behind us, should be here in a minute.”

“Are those two done fighting now?” Croz looked up from the table. 

“They had better be,” Demarco grumbled. “Otherwise I had Tattie Spaatz on my shoulders and stayed up till sunrise for nothing.”

“Wait, who was on your shoulders!?” Harry balked, his big brown eyes wide in shock. 

“Tattie… it’s a long story. But that one,” Benny gestured to Val with his thumb. “And her friends are all nosey and couldn’t let Doug and Olive make up in peace, so they had to spy through the windows.”

“What windows?” Brady chimed in. 

“These windows,” Ev laughed. “Doug and Olive came in here to talk-“

“No, you forced them in here to talk,” Val corrected him. “And I couldn’t see in the little window in the door, so I used the windows up there.”

“Jesus christ, Val!” Harry laughed. 

“Biddick was holding all the jackets, Dickie had Helen on his shoulders, it was certainly something.” Benny recalled, the moment Tattie started ordering him around coming to the forefront of his mind. 

As if on cue, James Douglass came sauntering over to the table with Olive tucked under his arm, the pair grinning like teenagers. 

“That about answer your question, Croz?” Val laughed. 

“Sure does.”

Doug, doing his best to behave like a gentleman, pulled the chair out next to Val for Olive, before rounding the table to take the seat next to Everett. 

“So, fellas, how’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie.” Brady grinned. 

“Oh I’m great!” Doug beamed, winking at Olive across the table. 

Val just catches her rolling her eyes at him before she turns towards Brady, the two of them discussing the letter Olive had received from his sweetheart Juliet earlier in the day. After Val had divulged her past to the girls in the hut, Olive had offered to lighten the mood by telling the girls all about the letter she had received from Juliet Thompson. Still flabbergasted by the sheer size of the letter, Val could only describe what the girl had written as a novel, and outside of James Douglass she had not seen anything capture Olive’s interest quite so much. 

“She write you an essay?” Brady jokes, and Val immediately knows that this is a common occurrence for Juliet. 

“She did, actually,” Olive nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.” The boys at the table break out into a roaring cheer at his remark, and Val see’s Olive’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she begins to laugh, Val falling into a fit of giggles alongside her.  

“James!” Olive scolds, hand finding Val’s on top of the table, the two of them with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet!” “Yeah, Doug,” Ev shakes his head in amusement, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Across the mess hall, Val see’s the pilot from earlier, Rosenthal, sitting at a table with a few other replacements. His Co-Pilot and Helen’s new eye candy, Nash are sitting with him, along with a few other members of who she assumes are both their crews. He catches her eye briefly, and she offers him a wave before turning back to Everett who’s talking about the crews he led up earlier. Brady had taken the Crash Wagon crew up on a practice run so as to avoid having to meet them, so he seems especially intrigued by what Ev has to say about how the new kids had flown. 

“Hey Val, looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements,” Benny gestures to the group of men at another table staring at her with what could only be described as hearts in their eyes. “Starry eyed kids.” 

“Rosenthal and his crew?” She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no actually…”

“What?” Everett’s head turns in the direction of where Benny is looking, his hazel eyes narrowing, his face taking on a dangerous scowl. 

“Everett, they’re not doing anything, they’re just-”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.” He practically growled, gaze fixated on the table of replacements. . 

“Ev, hey pal,” Dougie dropped a hand to his shoulder, shaking him out of it. “They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

“Yea… learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends.” His gaze still on the new kids, voice raised to get his point across. The faces of the replacements go pale as they realize that the woman they’ve been whispering about is the Captain’s girlfriend. 

“Everett…” Val warned. 

Before he could say anything, Gale Cleven’s voice carried over from the table with the replacements, the major standing with his hands on his hips as he addressed the boys now staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Fellas,” He nodded. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

A chorus of yes, major echoed through the room, Buck nodding in satisfaction at their answer before moving on. 

“Boys, Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” He offered them all a smile, giving Val a slight wink knowing she heard him with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner everyone.”  

“Major,” Everett nodded. “Thank you sir.”

“You see?” Val nudged him gently, as Buck walked towards where John Egan was waiting for him with Curt and Dickie. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all…”

“Green with envy?”

“Yea, that.”

“Don’t worry,” She grinned, picking her napkin up and placing it in her lap. “I only have eyes for you.”

——————————————————————

By the time dinner is finished, the lack of sleep has fully caught up with just about everyone, and the girls make the decision to forgo the Officers Club for the evening. Instead they choose to spend time sitting outside the Red Cross hut, taking the chairs they’ve commandeered from the club outside and propping the door open so that the record player can be heard. 

“Ev, we need to get a record player in our rack.” Doug laments, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Olive who's perched on his lap. 

“Croz has a record player,” Ev sighs, tucking Val into his side as they squeeze into the borrowed armchair together. 

“Yea, but he plays fancy stuff.” Dougie gripped around his Lucky Strike. 

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val laughs, peering over at him.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice. Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home, it’s actually quite nice.”

“What does Pearl play in her house, Ol?” Dougie ducks his head down to peer at his girlfriend, a smile blooming on her face at the mere mention of her grandmother. 

“Oh, a lot of Glenn Miller in her house.” She replies in a sigh, and Val can tell she’s thinking of home. 

The feeling of nostalgia spreads over them all like a warm blanket, the girls sharing anecdotes of home and growing up and living with their grandmothers. Val is practically draped over Everett in their shared seat, leaning over to get closer to Olive as she shares tales from the kitchen; making meatballs and sauce on Sundays, and arancini every time there’s a special occasion. That once she was old enough, Nonna DiRosano would beckon her into the kitchen and teach her how to prepare the traditional meals so that one day she could cook them for her own family. She recalls how up until the day she left for England, she would request a traditional Sunday meal for her birthday every year, no matter what day of the week it would fall on. She laughed thinking about how Curt and his mother would always need to be present at the table, the Irish woman and her son happy to share in delicacies that were special to their friends that had become like family. In turn, Val had also learned how to prepare a traditional St. Patrick’s Day meal from Mrs. Biddick; the older woman had once thought her son would be the apple of Val’s eye, and he was, but as a brother was to a sister. Still, she had insisted that Val learn, because one day I won’t be here to cook for my son, and heaven knows what kind of wife he’ll end up with. Val’s impression of Mrs. Biddick is spot on, her Irish accent something that has the others laughing and for a moment, forgetting all about where they are. That blanket of nostalgia is warm, tucked around them so snug, they can almost feel the softness of its cover. 

The boys, both enthralled at hearing all about how Val and Olive had grown up, begin to share some of their childhood memories as well. Everett is quick to share that he was a troublemaker of a child, something that Val immediately finds amusing because as much as he enjoys putting his feet up and having fun, her Everett is the most GI of GI’s according to the other men around base. She’s hard pressed to agree with them, because when the time comes for a mission, he’s all business. Tattie and Helen join them as Everett is in the middle of telling a story about how nothing fragile was ever safe in his parent’s home, his hazel eyes bright with childlike mischief before he morphed into his best impression of his mother, just to get a rise out of his audience. 

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’” He crowed, Val laughing from her spot in his lap. 

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?” He fires back with a grin. 

“I'm sorry, it's just–” Her own laughter takes the words right out of her mouth, her head thrown back onto Doug’s shoulder. “I didn't expect that. You don't–”

The laughter takes over once more, Everett shaking his head at her antics, the pilot now hiding his face in Val’s shoulder. 

“Oh come on, Ol!” Val laughs, her fingers combing through Everett’s hair. 

“You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.”  She finishes. 

“Go on then, what's yours?” Ev challenges her, eyes narrowed. 

“Maude.” She giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it. 

“Maude?” It's his turn to laugh now, the sound carrying across the open night air. “Jesus, Ol, that's worse than Ernest!” 

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose gently.  

“Thank you!” Her nose wrinkles sweetly under his finger. “I think so too.” 

“I think Ernest is adorable,” Val grins, turning to face him, Olive and Dougie now in their own little world. “Suits you very well.”

“What’s yours?” Ev prods, his hand coming up to twirl a loose curl around his finger. 

“Chiara,” She sighs. “Valencia Chiara.”

“Beautiful…” He whispers, bringing her face closer to his, noses touching just so. 

“You think so?”

He nods gently, the space between them almost non-existent. 

Val can feel him tense up underneath her, his body going stiff as they remain pressed close together. There’s a pretty good idea of what might have caused it running laps in her mind, and she resolves to finally put the man under her out of his misery with a bit of teasing. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…” 

“Ev, you’re really tense.” She pushes, trying to get him to crack. 

“No, no I’m okay,” He shifts under her, and she can tell he’s practically begging his body to relax. “Honest.”

“You don’t seem okay…”

“Promise, I’m okay.” 

“Would it make you feel better if you knew that I loved you too?” Peering down at him, her eyes are dancing with mirth as her mouth turns up into a smile. 

“Yes, actually it would-wait… you’ve been holding onto that all night havent you?”

“Well, you sprung it on me,” She teased. “I thought, only fair to return the favor.”

You’re terrible…” His whole body relaxes under her, his head tipping back to rest on the back of the chair. He’s smiling, the same smile as the first time he brought her a drink at the club, and asked her to dance just two months ago. 

“Maybe I am. But, you love me in spite of it.”

“I do love you…I love you so much Val.” His mouth slants over her’s without a second thought, one hand tangled in her hair as the other wraps around her waist and holds her close. They’re so lost in each other, this moment, that they don’t hear Tattie clearing her throat as she takes a seat on the short brick wall at the front of the hut, nor do they hear Doug and Olive trying to get their attention. 

“Hellooo,” Tattie calls out to them. “Lovebirds, the rest of us are still here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yea yea, we know.” Val waves her away, tucking herself back into Everett’s chest. 

“Did you tell him?” Olive presses. 

She’s smiling as she takes the cigarette from Doug, his blue eyes narrowing playfully before snatching it back from between her lips just as soon as she’s taken a pull from it. 

“What do you think?” Val winks.

The girls break out into a gaggle of squeals and laughter, both Everett and Dougie looking on as they smile and carry on with glee. Seeing them outside of the truck and in their uniforms, smiling and carrying on as girls were meant to, not under the din of war and loss, made both the boys smile. Tattie pulls her cigarettes out, lighting the last one and tossing the box to the side. She passes it to Val, who takes a pull before passing to Helen who’s sitting between the two couples. 

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. Each cough is dainty and delicate, in a way that only Helen can manage. 

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out, you're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!” She gripes.

“I can promise, you're not,” Olive laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick. 

As she stubs it out, four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed as they spot both Captains sitting outside so casually. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot. 

“Ohhhh,” Olive teases, knowingly. “Is that Nash?.”

Helen giggles, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as she nods shyly.   

“Oh, Helen, your hair is fine.” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

The quartet of replacements approaches hesitantly, Nash immediately making a beeline for Helen without so much as a wave to Val and Olive, or acknowledging Ev and Doug. They take it in stride as Val stands from Everett’s lap to greet Rosie, Pappy and the third man who she hasn’t officially met yet. 

“Rosie,” Ev extends his hand for him to shake before moving to do the same with the other two men. “Fellas, enjoying yourselves?”

“Captain Blakely,” Rosie nods, standing straight. “Miss Val.”

“Rosie, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that out here,” Everett insists with a kind smile. “We’re all just shooting the breeze.” 

“Yea, come join us,” Val grins at them, turning to wave Olive over towards where they’re gathered. “Olive, come meet the new fellas!”

Olive is off Doug’s lap like a shot, pulling Tattie with her as she joins Val and Everett with the new boys. The girls don’t see Everett slip backwards towards where Doug is still sitting, leaving Val to introduce the new boys to both Tattie and Olive. 

“Olive, Tattie, this is Robert,” Val begins. “His Co-Pilot Pappy, Speas is Nash’s Co-Pilot and Nash is…where's he gone off to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” Pappy wiggles his eyebrows. 

“That was fast.” Olive titters. “He's keen.”

“He sure is.” He says, looking at Olive. “Sorry Miss…?”  

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

 “No way!” He gestures to himself, hand coming to his chest in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!” 

“Oh?!” Olive squeals, clutching at his arm in excitement before remembering her surroundings. “I mean, it's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though,” He ponders. “Truth be told, I’ve never met a Brit until just now.”

“It’s your lucky day,” Olive grins at him. “A Brit and a long lost cousin all at once.” 

“Hey, Rosie!” He hollers, unaware that his pilot is still standing right next to him, watching the entire thing unfold with Val and Tattie. “Came all the way to England and found my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–” He tries to reason. 

Pappy pulls Olive into a one armed hug, the over excited man resembling Meatball when he’s tied to the pole outside the Clubmobile and trying to get attention from everyone as they pass by on their way. Olive quickly pulls Pappy over towards Doug, and Val can see the excitement on both of their faces at the blooming friendship between them; Olive doing exactly what Val had been questioning all afternoon. The question of caring too much, getting too attached, seeming millions of miles away as new friends blended with old friends, something special igniting between all of them. 

“Rosie, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to the rack and get some sleep,” Speas addresses the group. “It’s been a day.”

“Oh, of course, go on then. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Val waves goodnight, before watching as he claps Rosie on the shoulder before turning towards their designated hut. 

“We won’t be long,” Rosie nods after him. “Nash is probably going to be a while, but I’ll wait for Pappy.”

“Come sit,” Val turns back towards where they had all been gathered earlier. “The record player is still going, and we’re just relaxing.”

“I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Robert-”

“Rosie’s fine, Miss Val.”

“Just Val, please.”  She narrows her eyebrows playfully at him as she takes her seat back outside the hut, Everett standing to pull Doug’s now empty chair over for Rosie to sit in, while Pappy takes a seat on the half wall next to Tattie. 

“Yea, come on fellas, no pressure,” Ev pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Rosie who politely declines. Pappy accepts, lighting it before offering to share it with Tattie. “Besides, she’s been itching to ask you a few questions.”

“Everett,” She rolls her eyes, but stops when she realizes Olive and Doug are nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’d they go? Are they reading again?”

“They went for a walk,” He gave her a look that said there was more to it, but he didn’t want to kill the mood. “But I changed the record after they left.” 

“Artie Shaw…” Rosie commented, picking up on the melody coming from the open door of the Red Cross hut. 

“The man knows his stuff,” Pappy commented. “I’m surprised he’s not playing with Benny Goodman instead.”

“Do you play?” Everett asked, forearms braced on his thighs as he focused on Rosie. 

“No, not a note,” Rosie chuckled, turning towards Everett. “My mother and sister though, boy can they play.”

“So, you prefer Rosie over Robert then…”

“My mother calls me Robert.” His face twists into something childish, and she can immediately tell he misses his mother, but maybe doesn’t miss hearing his full name all the time. 

“And his sweetheart calls him Robbie!” 

“Pappy!”

“What! I’m just letting them know!” He shrugs from where he’s sitting, a laugh bubbling up that he tries to cover with a cough. 

“Okay, so, Rosie, what part of Brooklyn are you from?” Val turns to him, a twinkle in her eye. 

“How did you-”

“I’m from Bensonhurst.” She grins, red lips stretched wide as she sees Rosie’s eyes widen in recognition.

“I grew up in Flatbush!”

“Oh we’re practically neighbors!” She turned to Ev with a smile, explaining. “Flatbush and Bensonhurst are ten minutes apart, honey.”

“Yeah, guess we are!”

“And is your sweetheart in Flatbush too?” She prods. 

“She is, yeah…”

“What’s her name?” Everett asks, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground before tossing it into the ashtray. 

“Josephine,” Rosie smiles, a far off look in his eye. “I uhh, I call her Jo.”

“Rosie Rosenthal, you and I are going to be great friends.” Val nods, immediately feeling a sense of peace with Rosie and Pappy. 

Val makes a mental note to introduce Rosie to Croz, knowing that his wife is living by herself in the city and could probably use a friend to help pass the time. Based on the friendly disposition of the man, she could only surmise that his Josephine was as mild mannered and kind as he had been so far, and as a fellow Brooklyn girl, Val had resolved to write to her once she got to know Rosie a little better. If she were on the opposite side of things, she would want someone telling her how Everett was truly managing while overseas. Then again, if she had remained on the other side of things, she wouldn’t know Everett, and would simply be waiting for letters from England from Curt. He was another one who she had made a mental note to introduce to Rosie, though she wondered if Curt’s brash personality would be too much for the soft spoken boy from Flatbush. Then again, you could never have too many friends. 

“Hey uh, let me ask you something,” Pappy garnered the attention of the group. “Did I see a dog running around the hardstands earlier?”

“That’s Meatball,” Tattie groaned, catching a look from Val. “What! Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” Val laughed, knowing exactly where Tattie was headed.

“Yea, Tat, Meatball’s a good boy,” Ev cut in teasingly. “He loves you, why don’t you love him?”

“Oh I like him just fine, Blakely,” She chuckled. “But I don’t like my clothes covered in doggy fur, or when he gets inside the Clubmobile.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pappy leans forward, eyes wide in amusement. “His name is Meatball?”

“Yes.”

“And he goes into the Clubmobile?”

“Yes.”

“What, does he make coffee and donuts too?”

“Oh no, he’s Benny DeMarco’s dog,” Everett chuckled. “He won him in a game of craps when we came over from Greenland.”

“He brought that dog up in a B-17?!” Rosie balked, eyes the size of saucers, reminiscent of when Val had found out how the Husky had made it to Thorpe Abbotts. 

“He did, yea. Got him a mask and everything.” Ev laughed, remembering how Benny had paid a whole three dollars for a mask for Meatball before loading him into Our Baby in Greenland. 

The five of them sat there a while longer, casual conversation and laughter surrounding them with ease. That blanket from earlier, the softness and warmth that had covered them had returned, the air around them comfortable and calm. A moment that had Val wondering just how long it would last. How long would it be before the light was on, and the boys were rushing between the briefing hut and the hardstand. Coffee and a donut for the road, a goodbye kiss and a prayer to return safely. Waiting in the Interrogation Hut to count the forts as they returned, rosary beads clutched between her fingers, and watchful eyes counting the men as they staggered back from their mission. 

As the thoughts swirled in her mind, the sound of the siren cut through the night air and pulled the blanket off them with a vengeance. Red Bowman’s voice fell upon them as the siren came to a stop, his thick New England accent the only thing anyone could hear. 

The light was on. 

Everyone back to your racks.

It was as if she had willed it to happen just by hoping it wouldn’t. 

“Well boys, you heard the man, light’s on.” Ev groaned, standing from his chair, hands held out to help Val as she moved to stand. 

“The light?” Pappy asked, brows knit together.

“We’re flying tomorrow,” He nodded, gesturing to all the men filtering out of the Officer’s Club and back to their racks. “Better head back to your racks, you’ll find out in the morning if you’re on stand down or not.”

“Alright then,” Rosie stood, gesturing for Pappy to follow him. “Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone. Everett, Val, Tattie, have a good night.”

“G’night Rosie, Pappy,” Tattie waved, making her way inside the hut. “Val, I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Thanks Tat,” She smiled. “I’ll be in soon.”

With Rosie and Pappy gone, and Tattie in the hut, Everett took the opportunity to pull Val aside and give her a proper good night. 

“You alright?” He looked down at her, his arms coming to rest around her waist as he held her close. “You look a little spooked.”

“No, I’m alright,” She peered up at him. “I just worry every time that god forsaken light goes on and you have to go back up.”

“Hey, I promise I’m always going to fight to come back to you.”

“Always?”

“Every single time,” He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “We have a lot ahead of us, Valencia Chiara.”

“Oh do we now, Everett Ernest?”

“We do,” He winked, tugging her closer. “And I love you.”

She would never tire of those words coming from him. Nor would she tire of saying them back. 

“I love you too,” She whispered, leaning up on her toes to meet his lips with her own. “So much.”

They stood there a few moments longer, holding each other closely while savoring the last few moments of quiet before chaos would ultimately descend on Thorpe Abbotts. Peaceful in each other's arms, safe together. Until Red Bowman’s voice was booming over the tannoy. Again. 

JAMES DOUGLASS! BED NOW!

Val stood, face pressed against Everett’s chest as they stood there cuddling. The giggle bubbling in her chest burst free in one loud cackle as Olive and Dougie came skidding around the side of the hut, laughing like school kids. She hoped that no matter what, the playfulness that they all shared would always find its way back to them after touching back down on the ground after each flight. Oh, how she loved it so. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Wednesday

I've recently picked up another two fics that have been in hiatus. Hopefully, they will be fully updated soon 🤞🏾 But until then, here's a sneak peek of the current chapters of Prisoner of Love and Delivery for Mr. Pembrooke.

And read all the way through for the working plots of two upcoming fics. 😉

Taglist: @ghnaim24, @emily-ella-nightshade89, @goran-dafoe, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @goodoldcharley

---

Prisoner of Love

(Author's Note: Geiger changed his name to Sam Gilbert, which is mentioned in Chapter 1. That's why she calls him Gil, although it's also a meta joke because I can't help myself.)

You didn't see him or hear him so as soon as he grabbed you from behind, you jumped.

"Gil," you grumbled. "You scared the shit out of me."

He chuckled before moving his lips to your neck, pressing little hickeys into your tender skin.

"Well who else would be here, Shy? It's just you and me," he hummed into your ear. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept perfectly," you honestly answered. "Because I was wrapped up in the arms of my sweet lover."

He smirked.

"You know why I had to keep you here, Shy," he started while kissing your shoulder. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of us being apart or you getting hurt. But now my fears have fallen. I trust you and the world. I just hope I won't regret my decision."

"I know, honey," you moaned. "But I'm glad to have my freedom back. I promise I won't leave you. I love you, Gil. Promise."

"I love you too," he hummed, before you moved your head and kissed him. Swiftly, he deepened the kiss before you both just looked at each other again.

You could both tell that you wanted to continue with the activities of last night. And just that twinkle of lust in your eyes gave him the green light he needed.

"Seeing you so joyful and hopeful like this, Shy, is really beautiful. I would like to adore you more."

"My hopefulness is sexy to you?"

"I guess it gives you that spark, that light that I like, you know?"

"Reminds you of how bold I was when we first met?"

"Yes. You just read my mind," he flirted in your ear, before instructing you, "Stay still and press your hands to the glass."

You nodded and swiftly obeyed his command, which earned you a sensual caress around your waist. His skinny, calloused hands just felt so good on your sensitive skin, it made you want to cry.

Your fiancé's touch never made you feel like that. So it was more than strange to you. And you let him know that by your reaction to his soft strokes.

"You really were starved," he moaned into your shoulder as his fingers moved down to your waiting cunt. Your legs were closed, but soon he kicked them apart to get full access of your jewel.

"Daddy!" you cried as his digits began to move inside of you. Immediately, your body reacted by leaning closer to him although your hands remained on the glass.

Your rough breaths stained the glass like your fingerprints and you watched as it condescended near the reflection of his smirking face.

"Let go, babygirl," he instructed. "Let daddy know how good he made you feel."

---

Delivery for Mr. Pembrooke

"You're going back to Old Man Pembrooke's tonight?" Los asked, startling you. You had just come out of the employee bathroom, now dressed in another loungewear set that was yellow and decorated with chibi spaghetti and meatballs on the top.

But seeing Los again surprised you. It was your first time seeing him again since the morning. And you figured that everyone was gone since it was so quiet when you came back from your all-day shift.

"Yeah," you answered, noticeably looking around.

"Don't worry. I'm the only one still here. I had to help Renae with some minor tasks."

"Oh," you replied, opening your employee locker. That's when Los noticed the bouquet of yellow roses.

"Did he buy you those?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"It was the mystery item," you explained. "Surprised me too. He even included a sweet message. I was wearing one of them in my hair, but I put it back in the vase. Luckily when I came back from dropping off two deliveries after visiting him, no one was around so I was able to sneak these in my locker. Only you know about them."

"And I'll keep it that way. They don't need to know," he assured. "But I do wonder..."

"What?"

"I don't mean to overstep but Tasha, do you like Mr. Pembrooke? Like actually like him? I used to think you just pitied him, but it seems like there's more to it."

"Los, if I'm being honest, I've liked him from our first encounter. It was never pity. I wanted to visit him again to check on him. I like delivering his groceries. He really is sweet if you get to know him. And I know this sounds weird, but I think he's quite handsome for his age..."

Los shrugged.

"No judgment. There's plenty of older women I deliver to that I find attractive," he admitted. "And honestly, I think it's sweet that you're so kind to him. I always thought he just needed a friend too. I got mad respect for ya, Tasha."

You giggled.

"Thanks, Los. Just promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I won't, promise," he insisted, before saying, "I did learn something interesting about him, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I found an interesting documentary on ESPN Classic while scrolling through the channels yesterday," he explained. "It was called..."

"Behind Lionel Pembrooke?"

"Yeah! That's it. Wait, did you know he was an Olympic ping-pong gold medalist?"

"My dad was a fan," you started. "Didn't realize it was him until yesterday. Then again, I haven't thought about Olympic Ping-Pong in years."

"Hmm, guess you were destined to melt his cold heart then."

You laughed.

"It's nothing like that," you insisted. "We're just friends...I mean we just met."

He nodded, but also sported a smirk on his face.

"Right. Well I'll leave you to it. Don't want to keep the old man waiting," he teased. "See you tomorrow, Tasha."

"See you," you said back, hugging him before he grabbed his bag and left.

Once he was gone, you finished packing your work clothes in your bag and grabbed your flowers. You were about to turn around and leave when you were startled by Renae.

"I'll lock up," she told you. "Go on ahead. I'm sure Lionel's waiting for you."

You smiled.

"Thanks, Renae."

"You bet, rookie. Also check your text. I thought you should see your review."

You looked puzzled, but did as she said. You toggled to her message and immediately began to read.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I don't know where Grocer found Natasha Roundtree, but I'm starting to believe they found her after she fell from heaven. I've never had such wonderful service from this company until she delivered my groceries for the first time yesterday. She was so kind and compassionate, she even helped put up everything after I threw my back out. So after she left, I immediately requested that she deliver my groceries from now on. But I don't want to be selfish. I definitely want her on Tuesdays, but any other days, you should request her. And give her a good tip too. Honestly, I couldn't recommend her more.

Your eyes started to tear up as you read every line. Renae had told you how sweet his review was, but actually reading it made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

"He really likes you, Tasha. I've never seen that man give any other delivery driver five stars. At the most, three and he was just being nice."

"He really is sweet once you get to know him."

"I know. He wasn't always like he is," she stated. "I met him the year after he retired when I was a kid. I used to play table tennis and he was signing autographs and meeting fans at the convention center. He was so warm and inviting to everyone. It's sad to see what he's become. I don't know what turned him into the monster of his street, but I'm glad you're starting to turn him back to who he was previously."

"Wow," you moaned. "Maybe I'll learn what happened in due time. I'm not gonna force him to tell me though."

"Yeah, don't," Renae agreed. "Now get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

You laughed.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

---

Okay now onto the working plots of two upcoming fics. I've been stewing and talking over these with some close mutuals, and I think I've finally come up with something concrete for both.

One of these fics was a long time coming, the other is an ambitious crossover. But I think they'll both be enjoyable.

Let's start with the one that was a long time coming...

Snow Angel (Leonhard Seppala)

Two years after the tragic death of his wife, Leonhard is shocked to find a strange Yup'ik Native Woman sleeping in his bed with her two huskies, Hedy and Laika, by her side. After waking her, he learns her name is Tatiana and she broke into his home for warmth and shelter after being lost in a snowstorm. She volunteers to leave, but he lets her stay since she kind of reminds him of his wife personality wise. In return for his kindness, she helps him around his home and bonds with his huskies. And as they spend more time together, they both fall madly in love. However, their budding romance is soon disrupted by Tatiana's uncle and baby brother who come to bring her back to her home village. Since she is the de facto leader, she does go back. But will she stay in the village or will she follow her heart and return to Leonhard?

And now the ambition crossover...

Standing Ovation (John Geiger and Mike Hubble)

In a strange game of cat and mouse, Executive Director Sinclair Banks is being pursued by not one but both of her new hires at the Vancleef Arts Center. One of them is the Director of the Music Education Department (Mike) and the other is their IT/Security Guy (Geiger), handling all the security tech and the system that all of the venue uses. The two constantly flirt with her, although she always rejects their advances. But that all changes when Geiger comes up with a plan to ambush her in the theater. The two men pick a night where she's in her office late and inact their plan. First, Geiger purposely makes the power go out, which makes her panicked. Then she tries to find a light source before Mike comes up behind her and chloroforms her. He brings her to the theater and she wakes up in one of the theater chairs. She's confused and tries to leave before both men come through the only unlocked door and ambush her. They lead her to the stage, giving her the performance she had been dying for. Will she be theirs after? Or will she resist their charms after the ambush?

---

Alright, well that's all for now. I'm currently trying to get my writing schedule for this year straightened out. So hopefully I'll put out more content frequently. Wish me luck. 🤞🏾🍀

[natashadied4oursins]

The Boyfriend Package-Chapter 1

@gyokujyn Still needs to be edited.

Summary: MC has a terminal illness. Since she's never had love, she's decided to pay for it via an escort service. The Boyfriend Package includes all things real couples do besides the sex. (I wrote this while I had my own health scare. It was very therapeutic).

A/N: There will be a Happy Ending. If there's anything offensive, please let me know.

Pairings: Bucky/female OC

Words: over 5k

Trigger warnings: terminal illness and the thoughts and feelings that come with it.

Warnings: Thigh riding and swearing.

The Boyfriend Package, Chapter 1

“Evening, baby! I missed you!”

Damn, Bucky looked better than his pictures. Tall, muscular, with bright blue eyes, short brown hair, and a roguish stubble. He was one of the men she’d chosen from the website. She’d secretly wanted him, but she would only allow the agency to send men who were aware of her situation and were completely onboard.

Her mouth was suddenly dry; she swallowed and smiled brightly accepting the yellow orchids in his hand. She’d never been given yellow orchids before, but they looked very cheerful and friendly. She gave him a peck on his cheek, his stubble tickling her.

“Missed you too, babe! Oh, let me get your jacket.” She was trying to find a place to set the flowers, but he’d already taken his brown leather jacket off. He held his motorcycle helmet under his arm while he pulled off his brown leather gloves.

“I got it, doll.”

Doll? That wasn’t on the pre-approved list of pet names, but she’d allow it.

She gestured to the hall closet where he hung his jacket and set his helmet and gloves on the top shelf—one she always had a hard time reaching.

Yup. Those were the muscles she saw online—his black Henley was clinging onto his large, strong body for dear life. He caught her staring but didn’t say anything; he just gave her a tiny smirk. Of course, he knows how gorgeous he is!

“You can put your shoes by the door…if you want.” She quickly headed to the kitchen where an empty vase was waiting by the sink. She filled it with water and put the vase on the fireplace mantel in the living room—a fire already burning.

“What do you feel like doing tonight?” he asked leaning on the pillar separating the kitchen from the foyer.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His pictures made him look like a bad boy, but he had such a kind face. He held her gaze, which was nice, but then again, he probably had plenty of practice in his line of work.

“Do you mind if we stay in? I made some spaghetti and meatballs.” She knew he didn’t have any dietary restrictions, and it was a simple dish to make. She wanted to save any energy she had left for their “date.”

He walked over until he was standing right in front of her, his hand on her back. He tilted his head. “Sounds yummy. Do you need any help?”

He was flirting with her, and it was making her forget how to form coherent sentences. “Plates,” she pointed to the higher shelf, “up there, please.”

He towered over her. She barely reached his shoulders in height. She wasn’t a fan of such a height difference, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

“Of course, doll.” His eyes lingered on hers until she made herself focus on setting the table and grabbing the utensils, cloth napkins, the bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, the smaller bowl of salad, and the salad dressing.

The kitchen table wasn’t as big as the dining room table, but it was nice and intimate. She sat opposite him for some friendly distance since they didn’t know each other very well. Before the silence got too awkward, she was going to ask him how his day went, but he held out his left hand across the table for her to take.

She giggled nervously as she took his hand in hers. His hand was so big and warm on her skin considering it had been pretty cold outside. She felt the callouses on his hand and wondered how he got them. Did he work with his hands? Did he work out a lot? Look at him! Of course he did, dummy!

“How was your day, sweetheart?” The pet name made her heart flutter.

“I read a bunch.” The truth was she was exhausted from her treatment a few days ago. She thought she’d timed their “date” well expecting the side effects to be minimal that night. She’d mostly slept, read, and watched tv. She made herself rest because she was looking forward to meeting Bucky.

“Anything good?” he asked shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying the food—that was comforting.

“Just some sci-fi fantasy. The one I’m reading has a nice little planet where it’s nighttime for most of their year, and the stars are always sparkling. It’s a common tourist destination for couples from other planets.”

He nodded as she spoke—like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was good.

“I’ll be sure to book us a trip some time,” he said running his thumb on the back of her hand.

She smiled at the thought of them on that little planet. Having a fancy dinner and dancing the night away—which could last as long as they wanted.

She asked him about his day. “Me and some buddies helped a friend move. He just bought a house, so there were a lot of boxes and furniture. I’m still pretty sore, so I’m glad we’re staying in.”

Of course, she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or if it was part of his persona. She was pretty sure “Bucky” wasn’t his real name, but it was all part of the fantasy.

“Don’t worry, I took a shower before I came over.” He gave her a wink.

“That was very considerate of you,” she giggled. What was with all the giggling like a little girl?

She had the image of him without his shirt on, sweat all over his chest and his hair sticking to his forehead…because all hot guys went shirtless when helping their friends move, right? Damn, it had been way too long since she’d had sex.

She quickly changed the subject. “Did you want to watch a movie after? Or binge a tv show?”

“How ‘bout a movie?” he offered, his voice brighter with excitement.

“Which one?”

“You pick.”

“Oh, no! You don’t want that. Otherwise, you’d be falling asleep while I watch romantic comedies. How about an action movie? Or a heist movie?”

He squeezed her hand. “We can watch a rom-com. My sister watched a bunch of them growing up, so I’ve built a tolerance to them.”

Cute and funny? She didn’t stand a chance.

It wasn’t long before Bucky finished both his helpings, and he patted his stomach—or his abs; the man didn’t look like he had a stomach.

“Thanks for cooking, doll. It was really good.” She was about to thank him for the compliment when he said, “Doesn’t look like you ate much.” He looked at her with concern.

She withdrew her hand from his and crossed her arms. She couldn’t look at him.

She specifically requested that the men the agency send over not bring up her illness or anything related to it. Maybe he didn’t get the message.

“I had a late lunch with the girls,” she said—an obvious lie. “Had a huge burger and fries.” 

She stood up to gather the dishes, but he stopped her and put the dishes in the sink himself. “You cooked, so I got the dishes.” He put his arms around her and pressed his forehead to hers making her breath catch. “Why don’t you pick out a movie?”

She held onto his upper arms for support, feeling the solid muscles under her hands. She wanted to explore more of his arms, his back, everywhere, but she didn’t want to start anything like that yet. She wanted them to get used to each other first.

He felt so warm and comforting and safe. She was grateful she hadn’t lost too much weight and had plenty of…padding…for him to hold on to; she didn’t want to give him an excuse to pity her or treat her differently.

“Ok,” she said against his lips.

“That’s my girl,” he said and kissed her forehead—a simple kiss and it felt so intimate.

Her body tingled at his praise, and she just stood dumbfounded. When she didn’t make a move to leave, he said, “Or we could just stay like this—I don’t mind.”

He pressed her body against his in a warm embrace and said in a soft, deep voice, “I could stay like this all night, doll.” He kissed the top of her head.

She could stay like that all night too, but there would be plenty of cuddling on the couch.

She gave his arm a pat and said, “I’ll pick a movie.”

“Go on then,” he gave her butt a gentle smack making her yelp.

They both laughed, and she headed to the living room to turn on her smart tv. She looked back to find him still watching her. Just pick a movie! What movie was cheesy and not at all serious?

She’s All That? No, the main character’s mother died of a long illness. 28 dresses? No, it focused too much on getting married—something she would never get to do. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days? No, it involved fake relationships—too real.

Notting Hill. Sure. A British guy dating an American celebrity, and their biggest problem was the paparazzi? Perfect.

“What’d you decide on, doll?” He brought over two glasses of water for them. She didn’t ask for it, but she needed to drink more water anyway.

“Notting Hill? Ever seen it?”

“Wow! About a million years ago with my sister.”

She wondered if he really did have a sister. No. That wasn’t important.

He sat on the couch practically squishing her against the armrest making her giggle. He put her legs across his lap and grabbed a nearby blanket to put over them. She tucked herself as best she could; she’d been getting colder than usual lately. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled herself against his warm chest. She wouldn’t need the blanket or fireplace soon with his body against hers.

She handed him the remote control so her arms could stay under the blanket. It was amazing how natural it felt being together. Playing with each other, touching each other, holding each other…

He started the movie that began with a montage of the American celebrity played by Julia Roberts at work while a song played at the forefront.

“Who’s on you List?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “My List?”

“You know the one. The List of celebrities that you would be allowed to sleep with should you actually have the chance.” She interrupted his protest by saying, “And don’t tell me you don’t have one or that you would never go through with it given the chance.”

His chest rumbled with his laughter making her giggle. He ran his hand over his face, embarrassed, then held her legs closer to his body.

“Ok, ok!” He started thinking. “I think Anna Kendrick’s pretty cute.”

“Good choice…”

“Amy Adams.”

“She’s not too old for you?”

“Hell no—she still looks good!”

She giggled. “Ok. And…?”

“Rosario Dawson.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “The girl-next-door? That’s your type?”

“What?!” He shrugged innocently. Oh, this guy was good.

“Bullshit! Give me a ridiculously over-the-top-gorgeous celebrity you’d sleep with right this second!” she playfully demanded.

He ducked his head shyly. “Penelope Cruz.”

“That’s more like it!”

He nuzzled his nose with hers like it was a normal thing for them. “I can’t help what I like.” She wanted to call him out again, but she was having way too much fun. “Besides,” he said shaking his head repeatedly, “I would never, ever, ever, sleep with those girls when I have you.”

She felt her cheeks redden. The obnoxiously sweet and cheesy boyfriend was exactly what she always wanted but was too damn chicken-shit to go after. Money was more important, she’d told herself, but deep down she was an insecure little girl. She was an idiot.

She rested her head back on his chest. “Damn right.”

“Wait! Who’s on your list?” He gently shook her.

“Shhh! Hugh Grant’s doing his voiceover.”

“Wait. Did you just play me?” He started tickling her. “Did you?”

“No!” she couldn’t help the laughter bursting out from her. She tried to grab his hands or his wrists to stop him, but he would just slip from her grasp. “No!”

When she started kicking her feet, he finally stopped, and they both stared at each other as their laughter died down. She looked at his plump lips, and she saw his eyes flick to hers. She wanted to make out with him—and she could—but for some reason she didn’t make a move.

“The meet-cute’s coming up,” she said softly and lowered her head against his chest to watch the movie.

He held her and leaned his chin on top of her head. It felt nice. They’d all felt nice; they were professionals after all. Bucky was just the better actor. An escort who could act. She might keep him if he didn’t run away like the others.

“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

“That’s probably the cheesiest line in cinematic history,” she said toward the end of the movie.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed soberly. “It’s terrible.”

“But it worked,” she sighed shaking her head.

“Well, not yet. Remember, he still has to do the whole running-after-the-girl-before-she-flies-back-home-and-they-never-see-each-other-again thing.”

“Right. Because he can’t fly to the US to be with her. That would be crazy.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of flying? No, if Meg Ryan could do it, so could he.” Wow, he’d actually seen French Kiss?

“Maybe he’s on the No-Fly list…” she offered.

“This was made before there was a No-Fly list…”

“Right. I fuckin’ love the nineties.”

“They had the best movies.”

“Oh, there he goes!” she called, awkwardly pointing at the screen under the blanket.

They cuddled through the whole kind-of-declaration-of-love scene, but the ones that followed were what finally got her. Julia Robert and Hugh Grant’s characters’ getting married, then the last shot with him sitting at a park bench reading with one hand while the other holds hers, and her lying on her back with her head on his lap, her feet over the arm rest, and her free hand over her pregnant belly.

Such a simple, sweet, mundane moment between two people that loved each other—and they were going to have a baby. She would never have any of that.

Here it comes…

She clutched Bucky’s shirt and sobbed against his chest. It didn’t matter what rom-com they watched—she would’ve ended up crying just the same. She should’ve known that.

Bucky reached over to the side table and grabbed a couple of tissues for her. He held her close while nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head.

This was what she wanted. This was what she paid for. A shoulder to cry on. It was on the top of her list of requests. There would be crying, and she wouldn’t hold back. Crying was therapeutic for her, but she wanted someone to hold her while she did it. Someone who didn’t have a vested interest in her health but could comfort her like they did. That’s why her last “boyfriends” left—too much crying. Too many instances of facing their own mortality. How long would this one last?

“I got you, baby,” he said soothingly, holding her tightly, rubbing her back every now and then. “I got you.”

She sobbed and cried and cried. He never tried to shush her or tell her everything was going to be ok; he just let her cry.

“Let it out; I got you.”

That only made her cry more. Not only would she never have what the couple in the movie had, but the very thing that was happening—someone who “got her” and cared for her—wasn’t real. But that’s what she signed up for, so she just let herself believe it was real as she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

Bucky handed her more tissues, but he didn’t make a move to let her go or pull away. He kissed her temple and kept holding her.

After a while, she cleared her throat and said, “It’s just a really great movie.”

“Yeah.” After a long pause he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her back stiffened and she lifted her head to look at him. He was doing it again. If she wanted to talk about her illness, then she would bring it up.

“No.” She lowered her head back down.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said a bit forcefully. “I already have a shrink.”

“I’m sorry,” he said rubbing her back. “I didn’t mean to upset you, baby.”

That’s right, buddy. Stay in your lane.

“I know, babe,” she said gently. She put her hand on his chest, and it wandered over to his heart. It had a steady rhythm; her mini freak out didn’t scare him.

“I definitely think we should watch an action movie now,” she faked a cheerful demeanor hoping to change the subject.

“Ooh, I’m thinking a heist movie! The Italian Job? Ocean’s Eleven? Twelve? Thirteen? Eight?”

She pulled away from him completely and sat straight up. “Ocean’s Eight? Have you seen Ocean’s Eight?”

“Yeah,” he said, his brows furrowed. “With Sandra Bullock—I would add a younger Sandra Bullock to my list, by the way. It’s a fun movie.”

“I didn’t think any guys actually liked that movie. The whole ‘gender-bending,’ ‘trying-to-be-woke,’ ‘women aren’t funny,’ blah, blah, blah…’”

“Nah! I know plenty of guys who liked the movie—they just won’t admit it.”

“You’re bullshitting me,” she poked at the muscles on his arms.

“Am not!” He flinched at her little attack, “I’ll show you. Play the movie; come on!”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the blanket off her. “I need a bathroom break. You can find the movie.” She made sure to gather all the used tissues and headed to the bathroom.

She leaned against the sink, hoping the sudden wave of nausea would subside. She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, but Bucky hadn’t said anything. He was such a nice guy. Probably.

She splashed water on her face and took deep breaths. She really didn’t want to take her anti-nausea medication; it had some not-so-fun side effects. When she was sure she wouldn’t throw up, she found Bucky in the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I figured some warm tea would be nice.”

She saw he had a kettle on the stove. “I have a tea kettle?!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it was hiding in the back of one of the cabinets.”

She shrugged. “I just use the microwave.”

He slammed his hand against his heart dramatically, “Sacrilege! My grandma was British, and she would’ve boxed my ears if I made tea in the microwave.”

“‘Boxed your ears?’ Is she also the one who told you to call women ‘doll?’”

His cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged his shoulders. “She babysat me a lot and she’d always watch those old movies…”

She felt herself grinning like an idiot as she held his gaze. She couldn’t help it; he was such a cutie.

He cleared his throat and started rummaging through her little basket of different kinds of tea and chose the ginger tea her mom had given her to help with nausea. She didn’t think she’d let on about her nausea, but he figured it out…or it was just a coincidence.

She didn’t know how she felt about him taking care of her in that way. She figured it would happen eventually when her illness progressed, but she didn’t want to be in that place yet in their “relationship.”

“I’ve been meaning to try that one,” she said indicating the ginger tea unable to make eye contact. “I’ll go find the movie.”

The movie was already on the screen, so she just fiddled around reading the small bios of the actors until Bucky brought the tea over.

“Did you know Sandra Bullock actually speaks German? Her mom was German,” she said starting the movie. She propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I think I heard that…” He set her mug on her side table, and he put his on the coffee table next to her feet.

“You can put your feet up,” she offered.

It was funny. She never would have let anybody put their feet on her coffee table before—now, she just didn’t care. She’d let all the little things go; they were all bullshit anyway.

Bucky put his feet up then brought the blanket over them. He grabbed his mug in one hand and brought his other arm around her shoulder, holding her to him.

“Hold on,” she said as she sat up, took off her sweater and tossed it aside. “Your body’s a freakin’ furnace.” She gave him a playful smirk.

“Oh, come on,” he said, “You know I got the hots for you.”

Her jaw dropped and she covered her eyes with her hand. “Oh my god, that was so bad!” She cringed at the bad pun.

“You walked right into it!” He said pulling her body close to his.

“That was so terribly bad!” She shook her head. After she recovered, she grabbed her mug and let it warm her hands for a bit.

They watched the movie and laughed and made little comments like they did with the other movie. There was no romantic storyline—in fact, it involved getting back at an asshole ex. It took a while for her to realize that she didn’t feel nauseous anymore. The tea must’ve worked.

“Ok, I change my mind,” Bucky said, “I’d have sex with Sandra Bullock at this age…”

She gasped dramatically, sitting up and smacking his arm. “No way! Even with all the plastic surgery?”

“Hey, that’s Hollywood’s fault; not hers.” He held his hands up in defense. “Sandy deserves to have a good time.”

“And you’re just the guy to make that happen…”

He held her close and lowered his head, so they were practically nose-to-nose. His voice dropped as he softly said, “If I wasn’t already with you, of course.” He licked his lips as his eyes wandered to her lips.

“Nice save,” she said huskily. She shouldn’t kiss him yet. Right? Well, maybe just a peck…

She set her mug aside then held his face in her hands to give him a quick kiss, but it lasted just a few seconds longer than intended. He tasted so good—like the ginger tea he was drinking and the Italian sauce from dinner. He smelled like pine and musk, and it made her dizzy with need.

She pulled away fully intending to go back to watching the movie when she caught his eyes. She could barely see any of the baby blue—only large saucers of black. Before she could guess what made his pupils dilate, his hand was on the back of her neck holding her as he kissed her.

He devoured her like a man starved, he moaned at her taste, and she couldn’t make herself pull away from him. She let out her own whimper, her core throbbing and she found herself grinding against his thigh. The lace of her panties and the denim of her jeans reached hidden places inside of her making her moan.

His hands were on her ass dragging her back and forth on his thigh making her cry out. Just the feel of his large hands on her ass made her slick. “Bucky!” Her hands held on to his arms for dear life.

He trailed kisses down her neck until he found the spot that made her shiver. “Take what you need, baby,” he breathed. “Let me take care of you.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she was all riled up. It was better to release on his thigh than risk actually having sex with him.

He licked the fabric over her nipple then sucked on it. She gasped actually feeling him through her shirt and bra. “Fuck, Bucky!”

“Next time, baby,” he said and gave her other nipple the same treatment with the addition of some playful bites.

“Oh, god, I’m close!” The pleasurable pain got her more wet.

Bucky’s hands on her ass pushed and pulled her faster on his thigh. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me!”

Her hands found their way to the back of his head and neck, nails running on his scalp. “Oh, fuck, fuck, shit!”

“Let go, baby, let go!” He bit her other nipple and pressed down a little harder.

She let out a sob and a quiet moan as she held on to him pining his head to her chest and dragging her nails across his back. She soaked her panties and jeans, and he kept grinding her against his thigh prolonging her pleasure.

Her clit was becoming sensitive, and as her orgasm died down, another took its place. She gasped for breath and gave an unladylike grunt.

“I want all of it, baby!” Bucky growled greedily.

She felt tears stream down her cheeks. She should stop him—it was becoming too much—but she didn’t. It felt incredible.

“One more should do it; come on, baby!” He sucked hard on her neck, and he squeezed her ass just a bit tighter.

Not wanting to disappoint him and having no dignity left, she held on. The pleasure became overwhelming, and she cried out as if in pain as her last orgasm overtook her and her mind floated away.

There was no illness, no responsibilities, no loved ones to comfort…just her and Bucky and bliss. She heard his voice in the distance of her clouded mind.

“You did so good, baby.” He was peppering kisses all over her face. “You were such a good girl for daddy.”

“Daddy?” She breathed out confused. She didn’t agree to call him that, but she didn’t have the brain capacity to dwell on it.

“That’s right, daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

He brought her mug up to her lips. The tea was cold, but it was just what she needed; she was parched.

“There you go; just a little more…”

She was still a little floaty and not in complete control of her limp body. Bucky said he was going to take care of her, right? She should just let him.

After he took her tea away, her forehead fell on his shoulder, and she just stayed that way.

“Look at the mess you made, baby,” he softly chided in her ear. “You made a mess all over yourself.”

“Mmm hmm,” she agreed but didn’t have the energy to look at her soaked jeans.

“Next time you’re gonna make a mess on daddy, aren’t you?” His breath tickled her ear.

“Yeah, daddy.” She would agree to anything at that moment.

“Good girl,” he kissed her temple and held her close while she recovered.

When the fog of her high cleared, she adjusted herself on his thigh, trying to avoid her sensitive parts. Her knee brushed against his groin, and she felt him twitch in his pants.

He gasped, holding back a grunt. “Easy, baby. I’m not gonna be able to stop myself if you keep that up.”

Oh, fucking yeah. That’s exactly what she wanted. No, she had to contain her hormones.

“Do you need help with that?” she asked genuinely concerned. “You could use my bathroom if you want…”

“You sure?” he asked as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

She snorted, “Yeah, showers are really good at cleaning up those kinds of messes—not that I would know personally…”

“Yeah, yeah, smartass.” He kissed her forehead and helped her off his thigh and onto the couch cushion.

He disappeared into the bathroom as she made herself comfortable against the armrest. She pulled her sweater back on since she didn’t have his body to keep her warm. She held her knees close to her chest and just sighed thinking about their night together.

It felt like they’d known each other and had been dating for months. She was so comfortable around him, and he seemed to be with her. She and the other guys never seemed to get comfortable with each other; not that she could blame them. It was an unusual arrangement after all.

Bucky came back and sat sideways on the couch facing her, one arm on the back of the couch and the other on her knee rubbing circles on it.

“Better?” she asked cheekily.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“So…’daddy?’” She had to tease him.

His cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, it’s one of my kinks. Is that ok?” He furrowed his brows anxiously.

“For now I guess, but aren’t kinks inherently sexual? I don’t want to cross any lines.”

She really liked him and didn’t want to lose him by breaking the rules.

“They don’t have to be. There’s a lot we can do besides sex.” He was serious in his explanation, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I think what we did kind of blurred the line, don’t you think?”

“That wasn’t sex,” he sounded confident, like a highschooler explaining to his girlfriend that she couldn’t get pregnant her “first time.”

“Oh really? What was it?” She held in a laugh.

“Hmm,” he pretended to think. “Helping you masturbate?”

She had to laugh out loud at that one. “Which isn’t sexual at all?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t sexual; I’m just saying it’s not us having sex.”

She smacked the hand on her knee. “You’re a big perv, aren’t you?”

“Nah! I just know what I like.” He took the hand that smacked him and interlaced his fingers with hers.

He knows what he likes? As in girls or sex or what…?

“But,” he ducked his head to meet her eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just letting you know there’s…options.”

She felt her face heat up. “I wasn’t aware of these options.” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “I’ll think about it, but it’s not why I want to be with you.”

Bucky leaned in closer. “It’s not why I want to be with you either, doll.” She searched his eyes; he seemed so genuine. Maybe he was just very empathetic.

She squeezed his hand. “I think we should call it a night.” It was the longest “date” she’d ever been on with any of her “boyfriends.” She wanted to end the evening on a high note.

“You sure?” He searched her eyes.

“Yeah.” She gave him her big, goofy smile which made him smile.

“Ok,” he stared at her for a moment then got up.

He folded the blanket while she took the mugs and cups to the kitchen sink. She watched him put his shoes back on and get his leather jacket, gloves and helmet from the hall closet. When she came over to let him out, he held her close to his chest with his free hand and kissed the top of her head.

“I had a great time, doll.”

She lifted her chin, “I did too…handsome.”

He looked away and shook his head, embarrassed. “Good night.”

“Good night.” She made sure the goodnight kiss was short but sweet.

He seemed hesitant to leave, but it could’ve been in her head. She was ok with him staying forever, but that wasn’t realistic. She closed the door behind him and leaned her head on the door. She took a few deep breaths then went to the kitchen to wash the mugs and cups.

“Damn,” she sighed. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

What she didn’t see was that Bucky hadn’t moved since she closed the door. He was still; his eyes were wet, and he fought like hell to keep them back.

She was wonderful. She was smart, funny, beautiful, had a smart mouth, a great body, and such strength he’d never seen before. He had some very dirty, depraved thoughts about her while he relieved himself in her shower.

He’d gone on these “dates” plenty of times—he’d had some great ones with some really nice women—this was something else. His heart pounded in his chest, and he blinked himself out of his reverie.

“I’m fucked.”

A/N: If there's anything offensive, please let me know.

[linzsaw]

75 HARD: day one

[x] read 10 pages - Atomic Habits

[x] 45 minute workout outside - AM outdoor walk

[x] 45 minute workout inside - PM arms + elipitical

[x] gallon of water

[x] followed diet - high protein: protein pancakes, Mexican veggie bowl for lunch, protein shake, banana, brownie and nuts for snacks, and tonight's dinner included Lemon Basil Turkey Meatballs & Creamy rice

[x] took progress photo - good thing I remembered to do this after a big meal :)

[x] no alcohol - nope, and in fact I was pretty ready to give it up and didn't even drink on NYE. I had my last drink on Christmas and not sure I'll ever go back.

Today was a huge success and I'm feeling accomplished! I honestly was in a bit of a rut for the month of December after coming back from Thailand and feeling quite broke and worn out. It felt really amazing to get back into a routine again. I set myself up pretty well for this challenge. They say that New Year’s resolutions are kind of out of place because goal setting should really begin in spring, and that this is a time for rest. I fully get that and support those who are participating in a relaxing period. For me, though, I’ve always done really well when I set my goals at the top of the year. I think monthly check-ins to make sure you’re following your set goals is crucial though! I think having a visual like a vision board or creating a Mind Movie works so well. The background on my phone is a vision board I made a while back and I’ve accomplished almost everything on it. This year, I plan to create a Mind Movie and I’m really excited! If you’re not familiar, these are short videos that you design yourself to get your mind in peak 'manifesting' mode, that you watch first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The idea is to see yourself as having whatever you want now, played out in the movie with hertz frequencies in the background. The goal is to get excited about your dreams, to stop focusing on what is and envision on how you want your life to be.

Preparation

This last week I spent some time collecting recipes, I wrote down all the things I'd like to do daily and weekly, made a workout schedule and plan, and organized a system for how to realistically accomplish these tasks/goals. I also did an intention setting ceremony last night with Yoga Girl's annual podcast which I absolutely love.

On NYE my love and I went out to eat at one of our favorite Italian restaurants and I drank a delicious mocktail that had blackberry, mint, agave, and soda water. I was definitely in bed before midnight (MST) but I did watch the balldrop on tiktok live and got my new years kiss lol. I think this was another way I set myself up for success, just knowing that I did not want to start off the new year hungover. It's not worth it to me and I've really outgrown that poison.

I wondered how well I would do with the outdoor workout with it being winter, but honestly it was really refreshing to jump out of bed and force myself to get outside. The cold woke me up and it was a great start to the day. I listening to a walking meditation. The last time I did this consistently, I very quickly quantum leaped into my dream career from a very depressing job, I passed the ASWB licensing exam by a landslide, and I started my UGC side gig career which has also been quite a success! I'm seriously so damn excited to see how life can get even better than it already is.

The self-development book I started reading is called Atomic Habits by James Clear, and I can already tell I'm gonna love it. I've heard such good things about it. It's about how to build good habits and break bad ones, noting that tiny changes in your day to day life can have a huge impact on your life long-term, whether good or bad. Here's a quote from the book that stood out to me today:

"The impact created by a change in your habits is similar to the effect of shifting the route of an airplane by just a few degrees. Imagine you are flying from Los Angeles to New York City. If a pilot leaving from LAX adjusts the heading just 3.5 degrees south, you will land in Washington D.C. instead of New York. Such a small change is barely noticeable at takeoff- the nose of the airplane moves just a few feet--but when magnified across the entire United States, you end up hundreds of miles apart."

Thanks for tuning into my journey! Can't wait to see the transformation both physically and mentally.

[mossy-thing]

15 Questions for 15 followers

Thank you @tathrin for tagging me! I know that it has been literal months, but I forgot I had screenshotted the questions and couldn't find them on your blog. Oops. Anyway!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Indeed I am! Alexander the Great, to be precise! Why would my mum name her child after a colonising murderer? I kept kicking her. Like, in uterus. I was a very agressive fetus. And also a very agressive baby, I just kept. Biting her. Like I was angry she gave me life. (Which on second thought, considering the people I've had to deal with so far... understandable, little me.)

2. When was the last time you cried?

Tonight! I had a recurring nigtmare of a zombie chasing me. I escaped, the thing that made it a nightmare was that I had locked it in with my family. And when I woke up, I was convinced I had killed them.

3. Do you have kids?

No, and I hopefully never will! Fun fact about 8 year old me, when a teacher told us that every girl would find a boy to settle down and have kids with one day in sex ed, I very confidently announced that I would never start a family because it would hold me back in my career. This is like one of those moments I should have realised I'm aroace, lol.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Kind of. The issue is that people often think I'm serious.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

When I see them, what they look like. When I talk to them on the phone, it's their voice. Is there another option?

6. What's your eyecolour?

Green.

7. Scary movies or good endings?

Both, as long as I get to analyze the living hell out of them. (Example: when watching The Menu for the first time, I kept bothering my mum like: Look, she said she doesn't want an intellectually callenging dinner and he literally crushes meatballs that look like brains for her cheeseburger! Mum look! Mum isn't this amazing??) I also really love tortured characters, so scary movies or stuff with a lot of angst potential is what I usually gravitate towards, but I really like some happy movies too.

8. Any special talents?

First and foremost, I don't really believe in talents, and get irrationally angry when people tell me I must have a natural gift or something because to me, that implies I didn't work my ass off for years to get to a good point but that Fortuna just emptied a bucket of goods over my head as soon as I entered this world kicking, screaming and biting everyone. The only thing that I would count as a talent (in a very loose meaning of the word) is that I started reading whole books about 3 months after getting to school. I think that's hyperlexia? Might be wrong, I never really researched it.

9. Where were you born?

Not in switzerland, despite my elementary school certificate saying so.

10. What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, drawing, playing the lyre, at the moment everything Tolkien, though that can change in like a day to something completely different.

11. Do you have any pets?

I do!! She is a cat, her name is Indira, she is very cuddly and sounds permanently pissed, to the point that a friend who was watching her while we were on vacation sent us a very concerned message because she had actually meowed like a normal cat for once. She hates other animals of all kinds, had to be kept in a seperate room in the shelter we picked her up from, was born on the same day as me (though two years later) and has a habit of sitting in a spot in the garden where she can be seen by the dogs on both sides of the fence and meowing very provocatively. The people in the shelter actually wanted to name her Diva because she is such a little bitch, but they decided on Indira since they thought people wouldn't take her in if her name was Diva. I love her very much.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I was forced to play batminton in 7th grade because of a stupid rule that said that all band kids had to do a sport thing too. I hated every second of it.

13. How tall are you?

1,63m. At my birth, people calcualted that I would never get over 1,45, and I was the shortest kid in everything until I was 16, when I grew 20 centimeters at once without warning. I very much enjoy telling people I am taller than them.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Art and English.

15. Dream job?

A published author. I am actually working on a trilogy right now! It might take a while until I actually get it done though. Does anyone know how cold it has to be that your fingers have to be amputated? Google is failing me.

Tagging (only if you want, also yay I have nearly enough followers to actually do this now!) @strawberriesinmoominvalley @dirtmuse @babybat98 @eight-ball-juice @liamwinters @harmoniousworld @hyperlexia-1 @daeron-the-flautist @mistergandalf @the-sewerrats @slowdeathhymn @suuzzzzzzannnnn otherwise this is an open tag.

[primroseprime2019]

The Sorcerer's Legacy- One

In the streets of London, a sixteen year old boy walked past people. He wore a black shirt and light grey jeans and a silver and turquoise jacket.

He had light honey brown skin and raven black hair that was tied in a small ponytail, and he had dark grey eyes that almost looked black.

He kept glancing around nervously. He lightly tugged on his hood as he kept his head down. He was avoiding the other people for a reason that only he knew.

He let out a silent sigh of relief as he walked into a house and closed the door behind him.

"Prim?" He called out. "In the kitchen, Ivan," a female voice called out. An Alaskan Husky pranced over to Isaac as he knelt down and giggled softly as the dog licked his face.

A twenty-one year old woman walked over, "dinner is ready. How was your trip?" She asked. She had chestnut brown skin, raven black and brown hair and light brown eyes.

"It was okay," Ivan replied with a small shrug, "it's gonna rain soon. So I made sure to grab some books from the local library."

Primrose smiled softly, "I'm glad. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded. She gently rubbed her head and he leaned into her touch before he hugged her. She immediately hugged him back.

"Go upstairs and wash up," she said softly, "after dinner, we can work on your magic lessons tonight."

Ivan smiled and he nodded before he went upstairs.

He grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom. Turning the faucet, he watched as water filled up the tub.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his arms. There were symmetrical scars on his back, arms, legs and chest. He didn't know how or when he had gotten them. Or how why, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

"Amaryllis represent pride, strength and determination," he murmured as he climbed into the tub, "Irises represent faith, hope, courage, wisdom and admiration; roses represent achievement, completion and perfect."

He closed his eyes, "lillies represent feminine, love, purity and grief. Begonias represent caution and consideration. Hibiscus represent power, fame and glory. Jasmines represent love, purity and sensuality. Snowdrops represent hope and innocence."

Thunder rumbled and he looked at the window as rain began to fall.

He chuckled softly as the Alaskan Husky, Penny, trotted into the bathroom. She barked softly and Isaac smiled at her.

He reached out and gently rubbed her head. "Sunflowers represent positivity, happiness, cheer, good luck, health and hope. Bet you didn't know that, did you, Penny?"

Penny tilted her head before she huffed softly, her tail wagging. Ivan giggled softly. He started to wash up.

Once he was done, he got dressed into his pajamas. He and Penny raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. The smell of spaghetti and meatballs filled the air and Isaac blushed as his stomach growled.

Primrose chuckled, "come eat, ya little bird." "Thanks, Prim," Ivan smiled as he sat down.

He started eating. Penny walked over to her dog bowl and Primrose hummed softly as she washed her hands.

"Prim?" Ivan said softly. "Hm?" She replied,

"Can you... tell me about my parents?" He asked. She paused and turned the faucet off. She sighed softly.

"Your parents were the most amazing sorcerers in the world," she said, "especially your father, Ivar. He wanted a world where sorcerers were equal and wouldn't have hide their magic. But... all I know is that after your parents disappeared, nothing was the same. I found you on my doorstep."

Ivan smiled a little and nodded as he finished his plate. Primrose pulled him into a hug.

"I know those aren't the words you want to hear but trust me when I say that you are loved and important in so many ways," she said. She kissed his head.

He leaned into her, "thanks, Prim." "Anytime," she said, "now go ahead and get yourself ready. We gotta leave in a little bit."

Ivan tilted his head, "where are we going?" "To the market," Primrose replied as she patted Peni's head.

Ivan blinked in surprise before he smiled and nodded. He hurried upstairs to grab his sketchbook. Primrose chuckled softly and Penny looked at her.

She sighed softly and rubbed her face. 'I can't tell him... not yet,' she thought bitterly, 'he isn't ready yet.' She grabbed her jacket and Penny's leash.

Penny walked up to her and Primrose patted her head. Ivan came downstairs, almost tripping over his feet.

Primrose laughed. "Slow down there, kiddo." He smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry! I'm just excited," he giggled. "I can see that," she smiled as he put on his shoes and his jacket.

"Hopefully the rain's stopped," Ivan said. Penny barked and he giggled as he rubbed her head. Primrose smiled softly. He looked so much like his father. It was almost haunting to her but she ignored that feeling as they walked out of their apartment.

Luckily it was only drizzling. Primrose sighed softly and Ivan looked at her.

"You okay?" He asked. "Yeah," she said, "now since we're heading to the market, I want you to stay as close to me as possible, got it?"

Ivan pouted but nodded. She chuckled and ruffled his hair. He squeaked and swatted her hand away with a giggle. Penny barked, her tail wagging. The three started walking to the market.

Ivan and Penny walked a little further ahead but managed to stay in Primrose's line of sight. She watched them with a soft chuckle. She sighed deeply before she looked at the grey clouds. She could see the sun piercing through and it made her frown.

She looked back at Ivan who was rubbing Penny's head.

'Not yet,' Primrose silently told herself as she gripped her wrist, 'he can't know yet. Otherwise things will become even more difficult. It's what his parents would've wanted. I... I can do this.'

She exhaled and walked after Ivan and Penny.

[color-of-magic]

Sometimes I feel a bit bad that you will never get to eat some of your favorite foods again 

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

[ibis-gt]

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

[raisinghellonstarbug]

Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

*

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

-

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

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A/n: hello peoples!! I’m so excited to FINALLY post the first chapter of this fic!!! I’ve been working on it for a long time, and after a few unpleasant delays, it’s finally happening 😁. While this isn’t my first fic, this is my first NHL fic, and the first fic I’m posting on Tumblr, so I’m a little nervous. This first chapter is mostly the set up to the main story, this is reader’s side of things with a flashback story. Chapter two will be mostly from Elias’s point of view. The rest of the chapters will switch back and fourth between the two.

CREDIT: Finally, before we get started I have to shout out my proofreaders. Y’all put up with me and my insanity: @siriushxney @iateyourdonuts @petey-patty @hufflepuff-girlx @cherrylita @immmbabyyygraceee @💕💕And specifically @imagines-r-s ASH!!! Babes, you have been the best and most supportive friend I could’ve asked for during this. You boosted my confidence about this fic and I have no idea what I’d do without you 😁😁

Without further ado, let’s get started shall we!! (Sorry for the long A/N, it’ll only be for this first chapter)

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of cursing, friends with benefits but like...just cuddling???, references to iCarly, mentions of One Tree Hill.

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: (i suggest having these ready before you read)

Y/C/N/N= your cute nick name, only Markstrom calls you it (you’ll see why) this can be either a pet name you like, or a nick name you already have.

Y/N/N= your nick name, Brock, Quinn, and a few others call you this, it’s more of a playful name. Again, this can be a nickname you already have (if you don’t have one I suggest something stupid (sounds like something Stech or Brock would come up with)

Y/N= this is your first name, only Elias calls you this unless it’s a serious situation, or you’re in trouble, or Brock is being an ass. (If it wasn’t clear before...your last name is Boeser)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you have a hardcore crush on your brothers best friend, who also happens to barely speak to you...it’s a slight predicament.

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(This is set in the 2021 season, however, because of my denial, Marky and Stech are still in Vancouver and were never traded... also no Covid. however the season was still delayed just to make it easier to follow.)

Present (Feb. 2021)

You’ve always been best friends with your older brother, you never had any real issues when you were younger and you were inseparable. So much so in fact, that once you graduated early a little less than two years ago (June 2019), he asked you to move to Vancouver and live with him. He was always so protective of you and you appreciated everything he has done in your life. One of the best parts about Brock being your older brother was the people he introduced to you. You aren’t very social and god knows how much of a people person your brother is. Once you had moved in, Brock quickly introduced you to the team. And with your double major in Statistics: Data Sciences and Sports Management, you were able to secure a job with the team. Quickly, you found yourself with a second family, one with many members.

Quinn Hughes is your best friend. when you met him about a year and a half ago, you hit it off immediately. With both of you being the same age and not very social, there was an obvious connection there. When Brock and The boys  go out, it is you and Quinn who stay in and watch shows on the couch (your favorite being New Girl). Huggy Bear is so sweet and you tell him EVERYTHING, even things you’d never tell your brother. You are still thanking the draft lottery every day that the Canucks received the 7th overall pick that gave you your bestie.

Thatcher Demko AKA Dems AKA Thatch AKA baby goalie is the sweetest and most hilarious guy you know. He is always looking after you just like Brock, but he is also one of the most annoying guys you know. When you’d first met you had the biggest crush on him. You told Quinn as much and he gave you so much shit for it. That crush was short-lived though, once you found out how obnoxious he could be. You still love him, just as a friend. Though Quinn never forgets to remind you of the crush that once was.

Bo Horvat is like another big brother to you. Sure you have Brock, but he’s your best friend. Bo, however, is the person you go to when you needed advice. Holly is one of the only WAGs you’ve become close with. She and you consistently have wine and gossip nights, of which Quinn is sometimes in attendance. Plus, you and Quinn are an amazing babysitting team for Gunnar if you have anything to say about it. 

Troy Stecher is the annoying older brother you never had. He always makes fun of you, calls you names, and bullies you in the loving way brothers do. And he never hesitates to come to you if he ever needs girl advice, which seems to happen a lot.

JT was just like Bo, except he is waaay more protective of you, maybe even a bit more than brock. He doesn’t have a sister and when you met, he made it his job to never see you get hurt. Seriously, one day a guy was bugging you at the bar, and both Brock and Bo were struggling to hold him back when he saw him slap you on the ass as you walked away. 

Jacob Markstrom, AKA Marky, AKA Giraffe (pronounced like it is in one of your favorite vines), AKA your cuddle buddy for the past few seasons. Both being single, you felt lonely sometimes and Quinn wasn’t much of a hugger (despite what the nickname might have you believe). Thatcher had offered but Marky, though just as social, is much more laid back. It also helps that he is 6’6 putting him over a foot taller than you. So during movie nights, or late nights at the bar, he is the side you lean on. Of course, you made it abundantly clear to most of the boys and yourselves that you were just friends. As sweet as he was and as great of a boyfriend as he would’ve been, he wasn’t quite your type and your personalities clashed.

Then there was Elias Pettersson, the tall, skinny, Swedish guy you knew as Petey. The guy who looked at you often and barely spoke a word directed towards you. He was Brock's best friend and he came over all the time, you didn’t have an issue with him, and you couldn’t deny he was funny, and from what you’ve heard he is a very kind person. So naturally, he was exactly your type. You’ve had a massive crush on him for a while now, somehow despite the lack of conversation. And the few times he has talked to you, he’s seemed so perfect, but there are only a few times you can remember. 

Right now, as you're on your way to the Canuck’s break room your brother texted you to meet him in, you try to recall those few times, specifically the one where your crush on him truly developed.

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

FLASHBACK (some time in January, 2020)

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

You, Quinn, and Jacob were laying on the L-shaped couch in ‘The Boeser apartment’, you were cuddled under the blanket with Jacob, laying on the section perpendicular to the TV, your heads at the corner. Quinn was on the other side of the couch, his head right next to yours. it was about 7 o’clock and the episode of One Tree Hill you were watching had just ended and you three had not eaten dinner yet. As the countdown for the next episode started, your stomach growled and you got a look from Quinn and a giggle from Jacob. 

“You hungry Y/C/N/N?” Jacob asked.

You looked up at him and giggled, “maybe just a little bit.”

“Y/N/N, you know what sounds amazing?” Quinn asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to each other and you both smirked knowing you were thinking the same thing.

“Spaghetti tacos!!” You both said. 

Ever since you were about 10 and you watched iCarly on TV, you had always wanted to try them. It had become an inside joke between you and Quinn for quite some time as he had the same desire as you to see how good they actually were.

“We should totally try them tonight!!” Quinn was quite excited.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jacob chimed in.

“They’re from a show! They take spaghetti and put it in taco shells,” you explained.

“Ahh, hence the name.” he nodded.

“Exactly,” Quinn said.

You jumped up from the couch excitedly and ran straight to your kitchen.

“Ok, we have spaghetti, spaghetti sauce, ground beef, taco shells, aaaand..... by chance do either of you know how to make good meatballs?”

“You’re asking the Swedish guy if he knows how to make meatballs?” Jacob replied.

“Not Swedish meatballs, Italian, stupid Giraffe,” you retorted. 

“Gross,” he said with a disgusted look.

“Ooo my mom made the best Italian meatballs, let me call her to see if she can send me the recipe!” Quinn said with a big smile.

Quinn exited the kitchen and ran to your room to call his mom. 

“You know, I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” Marky said with a laugh. 

“Quinn loves his food,” you replied.

“Are Brock and Thatch having dinner with us ?”

“I’ll ask.”

You started boiling the water for the pasta, and you cooked part of the ground beef for the meat sauce. Then you texted Brock:

Y/N/N: hey, you want me to make you dinner

Brock: Yeah, who all is there?

Y/N/N: the usual

Brock: Huggy and Marky?

Y/N/N: yep, so do you want some?

Brock: Yeah, and make enough for another person too

Y/N/N: ok

You figured it was Dems since that’s who he went to hang out with when he left 5 hours ago. 

You continued to cook when Quinn came in and grabbed a bunch of stuff from the pantry and cabinets. “Did your mom tell you how to make them?” you questioned your frantic best friend.

“Yes she did and she sent me the recipe too.”

“Coolio,” you reply.

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

You were almost done cooking, the pasta was done, Quinn had put his meatballs in the oven and there were only 5 minutes left on the timer. And the sauce had about 2 minutes to simmer.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot what to do when they're almost done, she does this thing, I have to call her,” Quinn said with a panicked look on his face. He ran back to your room.

The front door to your apartment opened quickly, both boys laughing, “ahh, shit,  my brother’s calling me,” Brock said as he ran back to his room.

“Why does everyone feel the need to exit the room for phone calls?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged with a giggle, “I don't know, maybe they don’t trust us,” he said in a sarcastically dramatic tone grasping his chest.

The door closed slowly and you glanced at the doorway where you thought you’d see the ever adorable goalie, Thatcher Demko, instead, you saw the adorable, slender, tall blonde you’d seen all the time, but never had a one on one interaction with... except the first time you met, when he told you that you looked pretty.

“Hi, Petey!” Jacob said as he slipped behind you to watch you mix the sauce, he stood over you looking at the sauce and put his hand on your waist.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile from before had faded.

“Looks so good Y/C/N/N,” Jacob said with a kiss on your cheek, a regular action. 

“Thanks, Giraffe, can you grab the taco shells?”

He grabbed them easily from the top shelf (tall ass bitch -_-), and moved behind you, placing his hands on your waist yet again, to move you to the side. “I've gotta run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back”

“Ok, you have fun with that,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly, was only you and Elias in the room, and the silence was deafening.

“So what are we eating?” he said, pulling your attention to his bright blue eyes.

“Um, spaghetti tacos, they're from a tv sho-”

“Like from iCarly?” he interrupted.

“...Uh yeah? How'd you know?” you couldnt pull your attention away from his eyes, ‘they are just so beautiful,’ you thought somehow you hadnt noticed this within the on and a half years you’d known him.

“We also get Nickelodeon, you know,” he said while throwing you a smirk that made your stomach flip. 

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you replied, feeling just a little embarrassed. 

“iCarly was my favorite, actually.” 

“Yeah, it was mine too,” you said, smiling back, looking at the way he just lit up your kitchen with his presence.

You both stood there for a second just looking at the other, “So how long have-,” he started.

“OKAY,” Quinn unknowingly interrupted, “so she told me what to do, turns out I have to put sauce over them for the last 2 minutes, so Y/N/N can you just put a tablespoon of sauce on each ball then put them back in for two minutes?” 

“Yeah of course. Elias, you were saying?” you looked back at the Swede.

“Oh it's nothing,” he looked down at his shoes. 

“Ok, Y/N/N you need to call mom and tell her we’re fine and that she doesn't need to worry about us please, Paul says she’s stressing,” Brock said as he entered the room.

“When is she not stressing about us? I’ll call her after dinner, how's dad?”

“Doin’ good, nothing has changed or progressed or whatever since we were home last,” Brock moved and sat on the couch letting out a big sigh.

“That’s good,” you let out a sigh.

“Petey, come here, we’re watching Gossip Girl” Brock shouted at the Swede.

“Ooo what episode are you guys on?” you asked. Brock had mentioned how he was making him watch the show you two had watched about 5 times together. 

“Just after Chuck gets Dan kidnapped at Yale.” 

“Oh so you still hate Chuck?” you asked Elias.

“Ew, yeah...wait is that gonna change?” Petey said with a scoff.

“Uh....,” you stalled.

“Y/N shut up, don't spoil it,” Brock interrupted before you could make it worse.

“Ok well, dinner is ready so just start the show after and we can all watch it together.”

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

“Oh my god, these are actually amazing,” Quinn said with his mouth full.

“I know, I did not think this was gonna taste good,” Jacob added.

“Hey!” you said, offended.

“Y/C/N/N, you know I love your cooking, it was the idea of the meal that I doubted,” Jacob said leaning into your side and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmmhmm, suuure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hallå Marky, ni två är söta (hey Marky, you two are cute),” Petey said, confusing you, Quinn and Brock with the sudden change in language.

Jacob, being oblivious to what Petey was implying, just said, “tack broder (thanks, bro).”

Little did you know what was going on in Elias’s head.

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

PRESENT

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

Before that night, you never really thought of Elias in a romantic way. You'd been around him quite a lot, seeing as how, seemingly, is in your apartment more than his own. Sure, you knew he was cute and very sweet from what you'd seen, but up until that point, you'd never had a one-on-one interaction with him. That interaction, however small, was the beginning of an obsessive crush. Quinn was the first to point it out, you started listening closely any time he talked, attempting to converse with him, and thinking about him on a daily basis even when you didn't see him. And due to your stubbornness, no matter how unrequited your crush seemed, it never faltered. You had always thought he hated you, or maybe he just tolerated you because you were Brock’s sister, and you were always around. 

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

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

Tag list: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan

[moralesispunk]

First Dates

Marcus Moreno x Reader

Summary - You and Marcus finally go on your first date together

No warnings

This is the second part of my Marcus fic

Master list / Part 1 here < / part 3 here >

On the drive home from your morning with Marcus, you couldn’t stop the smile that had taken over your face. While you had been enjoying spending time with him casually, his company sweetening your caramel latte mornings, you were excited to go on an official date with him.

You were a bit nervous over the fact you had already met Missy, knowing that he had avoided introducing or even telling Missy about any of his dates since he started dating again. However, by the sounds of things he had mentioned you to her before and, well, that made your whole chest warm.

While you knew that you were enjoying your time with Marcus more than just as new friends you weren't thinking that he was feeling the same. He was handsome and kind and you kept putting the spark you thought you felt down to his politeness. The fact that it wasn’t a one-sided feeling made you happier than you could believe.

Once you arrived home you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning your apartment before making dinner. As you looked out all of the ingredients you would need you heard your phone ringing from the kitchen counter. You looked over in enough time to see the screen flashing with an unknown number but the call ended before you could reach for it. Two seconds later a text flashed through from the same number:

It’s Marcus - from the coffee shop!

You smiled, swiping across to phone him back. He answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hi,” his voice came through, a litter shyer than you had heard it before.

“Hello, Marcus from the coffee shop,” you sang back.

His laugh came through the speaker, a little altered but as beautiful as always.

“I thought you might not answer a call from an unknown number.”

“Good thinking. So, did you and Missy get home okay then?”

“Safe and sound,” he replied and you could hear the smile in his voice, “she’s in watching TV and I’m just making some dinner. What are you doing?”

“Making some dinner too, some spicy chicken pasta I think. What’s on the menu at the- I just realised I don’t know your last name!”

Your laughter mixed together over the speakers, laughing at the fact that while you had shared a lot with each other over this past month your last names hadn’t been on that list.

This moment meant more to Marcus than you had known. While he told you about his work and you said you had heard of the Heroics but didn't know much about them, the fact you didn't know his last name meant you hadn't looked him up to read whatever the news had put out about him over the years.

“Moreno, and yours?”

You gave him your last name before going on.

“Well, whats on the menu at the Moreno household tonight then?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs, they’re Missy’s favourite.”

“I do like spaghetti and meatballs, good choice Missy.”

“Maybe I can make them for you some time,” his flirty smile evident from his deep voice ringing through the phone.

“That sounds even better.”

The both of you spent the rest of the time you made dinner on the phone. You told him that you had the Netflix show he told you about lined up to watch while eating dinner and laughed at the sound of pots and pans clattering together followed with him cursing under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear. 

Marcus finished making dinner first and you hear the tail-end of him shouting for Missy.

“So, you’ll let me know how you like the show?” his voice back to sounding shy again.

“Of course, enjoy dinner Marcus.”

“You too,” he replied, your name sounding soft as it comes from his lips.

As soon as you finish making dinner, plating enough for tonight and putting the rest in a leftover tub, you sit down to watch the show Marcus had told you about. It was a murder mystery show, based on another book of the same author he had been reading when you first met.

Once the first episode finished you clicked on the next, knowing that you would probably finish this show tonight. It was amazing and you could imagine Marcus as he watched it, guessing along with the detectives and getting excited when he got the twist before anyone on the show, the same way he must have done while reading his book from all the notes he left behind. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m loving this! On to the next episode already.

Marcus: I knew you would love it! Do you have any guesses yet?

You text one another back and forth for the rest of the night and you make your way through the show like you thought. Marcus decides to join you in watching the last episode, wanting to watch at the same time as you. You phone him as soon as you finish, realising it was left on a cliffhanger.

“They can’t end it like that!”

Marcus laughs at you reaction, hearing your voice echo through before his finger had even lifted from the answer button.

“It’s not funny! Are they making another series?”

“I think so, I’ve heard it’s coming out in a few months,” he replies, still laughing.

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“So, you really liked it then?”

“I really did. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you liked it,” he said.

“Well, it is getting late now and I think I’m going to head to bed but I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“I would like that. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

You went to bed smiling at the thought of Marcus that night. You were falling for a man who you had only met a few times before and technically hadn’t been on even a first date with yet. It scared you but something in you told you to give in to the fall.

---------

The next day you woke to a good morning text from Marcus, telling you that him and Missy were going to his mums for the day and to have a good day.

You went about your Sunday as normal, running errands with a little extra skip in your step. As you put your shopping in your car and sat in the drivers seat, your phone flashed with Marcus’s name.

“Hello!” you answered.

“Hi, how are you today?” he asked.

“I’m good, just running errands. Hows your day at your mums?”

“Good, I mean she has me and Missy working hard in the kitchen,”  he laughs, “I was actually phoning to see if you’re free on Saturday for dinner? Missy is going to stay at my mums that night.”

“I am indeed, that sounds lovely Marcus.”

“Great, I’m looking forward to it! I’ve got to go before head chef notices I’ve went missing but I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Marcus.”

The rest of the week goes in quickly and you Marcus talk every day. You spend some nights talking on the phone for hours after Missy went to bed or in days you were busy you both managed even just a quick text on your breaks from work. 

Marcus: The one day I had planned to finish work early and I just a pile of paperwork the height of me put on my desk

You: Just sneak out, you're the leader of the Heroics after all!

You: Should I have pizza or pasta for dinner?

Marcus: Pasta! Definitely pasta.

By the time Saturday came, you weren’t nervous but rather excited to see Marcus again. He had told you that would pick you up at 7 and had booked a table at his favourite Italians.

You spent the day relaxing and looking forward to it, looking out some clothes you felt good in but nothing too fancy. You enjoyed taking the time to do your hair and make up just as you liked it, having a spare 15 minutes to sit and wait before he should be arriving. In those 15 minutes the butterflies finally came. You were going on a date with a man who you had been slowly falling for over a month before quickly hitting the ground over this past week.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, answering it to find Marcus standing at the other side. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting something a little smarter than you had seen before with a nice shirt and trousers. His hair was combed back too but the same glasses perched on his nose. His bright smile was on his face as usual, looking a little shyer now though.

“Hi, I got you these,” he said, handing over the most beautiful flowers you think you’ve ever seen.

“Oh Marcus, they’re stunning. Have I got time to put them in some water before we leave?” you asked and he nodded.

You invited him inside, walking straight to the kitchen to fill up a vase for the flowers.

“You have a lovely place,” Marcus said, smiling at some of the photos and art you had hanging up on the wall. He guessed who was who in the photos from what you had told him about your family before, the tall man you had your arm slung around at a barbecue who looked a lot like you must have been your younger brother and the older couple you were standing next to at what looked like a wedding your parents.

“Thank you, its just rented so can’t do too much to it but I think I’ve managed to make it feel enough like home for now,” you voice called out to the hall.

You fixed the flowers in the vase, placing it on the kitchen table. You didn’t notice but Marcus had moved to standing against the doorway, watching as you did so. You looked beautiful as you carefully fixed the flowers in the vase, carefully lifting one to smell it before smiling and putting it back in its place.

“Ready?” you asked, turning to smile at him.

“Ready,” he said back, trying not to fluster under your gaze.

He walked out, leading you out to his car, opening the door and waiting till you had got in to shut it before walking around to the drivers side.

The drive there was comfortable, the quiet radio filling what few silences you shared. He told you about the restaurant, a small family run Italians he stumbled across one day that made the best home-made pasta. It wasn’t too far from where you stayed and when you arrived Marcus told you to wait, letting him get out to open up your door for you.

It was such a simple gesture but one you couldn’t remember having been done for you before. He held your hand as you got out the car, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked to the restaurant. 

It looked small and cosy, the place lit by few lights but a lot of candles. The smell of pasta and sauce and wine filled your senses as Marcus opened the door for you, giving his name to the man at the front. They took you over to a table near the back, a cosy booth that meant you were sitting close to one another.

“The penne arrabbiata is amazing here,” Marcus said as you opened up the menus.

“It does sound good, what are you getting?”

You read through the menus together before ordering your food and drinks. Just as the young waiter walks off an older man comes over, dressed similarly but a bit different to the rest of the staff.

“Mr Moreno,” the mans voice booms as he leans to shake Marcus’s hand.

“Peter. I told you, Marcus is fine,” he replies as he shakes the mans hand back

“And who is this lovely lady, not your usual companion tonight,” the man turns to smile at you.

You look back at Marcus, half jokingly raising your eyebrow, before turning back to the man. Marcus gives him your name, letting the man know you're on a date as what must be the manager smiles and shakes your hand back before leaving you to your night.

“He meant Missy, by the way. We usually come here for lunch when we’re in the mood for pasta, she likes that the kids menu is the same as the adults just smaller portions. Just in case you thought he meant-,”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night learning even more about each other than you already had. It was strange, for it being your first date you already knew so much about one another. 

At the end of the night, Marcus came back from the toilet, lifting your jacket to help you into it.

“We need to pay,” you said as you brought your arms into the sleeves.

“Already sorted it,” Marcus said back as he put his own jacket on, giving you a cheeky smile.

“Will you ever let me pay for something?” you teased back.

“Maybe one day.”

You walked back to the car, Marcus helping you in once again, before driving back to your home.

“I had a lovely night, Marcus. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” you said, turning to face him.

His face was lit by the street lights casting a flashing orange hue over his face. His eyes sparkled every time the light touched them. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned to face you at the red light.

“Me either. I really enjoy spending time with you. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he said back, reaching to lift your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently into the back of your hand, his eyes staring into yours as he did so. It felt like this one simple moment lasted forever, your stomach doing flip after flip. You couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face, visible even in the dark night. As the light turned green, Marcus turned to face the road now but held your hand in his. You looked over his every feature, from his hair to his nose to the stubble that covered his jaw.

He pulled up outside your home with you still admiring him.

“Can I walk you in?” he asked, undoing his seatbelt as you nodded.

You both walked towards your door, his hands in his pockets and you playing with your hands.

“So, I really did have a wonderful night Marcus,” you said.

“So did I. Can we do this again?”

“I would definitely like that,” you replied.

A silence fell over you both for moment, looking anywhere but one another’s eyes. When you finally looked up your eyes met his. They quickly darted down to your lips before looking back up again. Feeling braver than you usually would, you took a step forward so there was little space between your bodies now.

You reached up, placing your hand on the side of his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment, leaning into your hand, before he lifted his hands to cup your face. You both leaned in at the same time, your lips brushing over one another slightly before he finally leaned in to kiss you properly.

It was gentle and soft. Your mouths moved in time with one another, no rushing as you enjoyed each other in this moment. Your hand left his cheek and moved to hold gently onto his arm. When you finally broke apart, a little breathless and giddy, neither of you moved further apart.

You stayed for a moment, your hand resting on his arm and his hands gently holding your face. He leaned down and gave you a final soft kiss before stepping back a little.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small laugh hidden in the word.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“So, I’ll give you a call?” he said, placing his hands back in his pockets.

You nodded, “let me know when you get home safe?”

He gave you a smile, waiting until you unlocked the door to head in before turning back to his car. As you walked in to your place you turned just in time to catch Marcus skip a little as he hopped of the curb to walk round to the drivers side. You waited by the door, both waving at one another as he headed off.

Neither of you were falling anymore. You had both fallen, hard.

----------

Tags: @heythere-mel

[agirlneedsgoals]

I'm in a weird place today. I'll cut this to spare you (there is brokenness, coveting, complaining, talk of writing, dinner menus, and babble about current and past tv shows).

Last night, I suddenly had skin crawlies. I haven't had it like that without some kind of obvious trigger in YEARS. Maybe a decade, even. It felt like things were crawling on my arms, my face, my hair, my neck, and my shoulders. I knew nothing was there, I couldn't help touching to try and brush it off but I knew better than to scratch like I used to. Yay for self-control! I had to take Xanax to be able to sleep.

I woke up this morning hurting from the top of my head down to my toes. I think it's how I slept but I didn't feel this way once at @clockwrkheart's when I was there this last weekend. I think it's their bed and her pillow. I covet.

I'm writing! In tiny drips and drabs but I am writing. It's not my own stuff. It's fanfic, which I've never been particularly good at but this seems to be...coming together? Idk. I currently have about 4000k on the one that's working for me now. I'm just doing what I can, I'll check it for pacing and character later. I inflict it on one of my bffs constantly, but she has to say it's good because it's in her contract.

Enh, nobody'll see it even if I post it cause it won't be here. 😁

I have our meal calendar filled for over a week! Proud of myself but I'm not the one to make it most of the time, either because I'm exhausted or I'm just...not up for it. *is broken* But I want to. Does that count? Here's my dinner menu:

Tonight: lemon-turmeric soup and sandwiches (why sandwiches? because we didn't get any good bread to dip in it because I was gf when I put it on the menu and soup alone can't keep my sugar up overnight)

Thursday: chicken apple sausage, mashed root veggies, miso orange green beans

Friday: tuna noodle casserole w/Caesar salad (the only quintessentially 50's recipe I eat; mostly because my Oma made it when I was little)

Saturday: shrimp scampi (okay sometimes idk what will be going with the main)

Sunday: spaghetti and meatballs w/roast cauliflower (frozen meatballs and dressed up jar sauce because fuck you that's why)

Next Monday: tostadas

Next Tuesday: garlic butter baked tilapia, sweet potatoes, roast squash, broccoli

Next Wednesday: chicken fricassee, mashed potatoes, spring mix w/lemon vinaigrette

Next Thursday: honey mustard salmon, golden carrots, broccoli, green rice

Next Friday: gnocchi alla vodka (I'mma make both from scratch, actually), cloud eggs, Caesar salad

Next Saturday: Italian shakshuka, garlic bread

Next Sunday: curried chicken salad w/good bread (that just means I want crusty Italian or French bread)

Nobody cares about that except me, but there it is. 😋

They mark the doors of elves in The Witcher, to mark them either as homes they need to raid or homes they have raided, when they're putting all the elves in chains. But they draw a little elven piggy and I shouldn't but I find it ADORABLE.

I got 2 lbs. of strawberries from Sam's Club. I'mma eat them all dipped in sugar. You can't stop me, I'm an ADULT.

I only watched like 3 or 4 seasons of The Vampire Diaries and I never watched The Originals. It's on my list, I just never got to it. But YouTube has been suggesting a ton of vids from them and some of it is SO WELL EDITED. Like these people should edit movie trailers because it makes stuff that I KNOW was blisteringly stupid, look good.

Oh, my God, the love story between Klaus and Elijah. Not in the incesty way, just in the true love brother way. Those two could break curses on each other, s2g. I adore it. And there's a Caroline vid that made me actually cry. AND WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME DAMON AND BONNIE BECAME BESTIES??? If I can't have them as a couple (I shipped them in the books, tbh), I want them as bros. 💕💖💕💖💕💖

Okay, I'm gonna stop this now. If you read this far, I owe you cookies.

[toomanyrobins]

Sugar

Summary: Moving to the small town of Lehigh was supposed to be a quiet escape. But, the local sheriff and his determination to drive you crazy turns your plans right on their head.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Content Warning: some swearing, annoying misunderstandings that would be fixed if people just communicated

Notes: This has not been proofread, so any mistakes are entirely my own. Whoops!

You had just arrived in Lehigh the week before and had been busy moving into your new home on the outskirts. When you’d seen the little cottage, you knew that it was meant to be and used the money grandpa had left when he died to buy it. A few days after moving in the last of the boxes, you wandered through the small town. The help wanted sign in the front of the diner made the job search easy and after a week working as a waitress, you’d settled into a comfortable rhythm. The other waitresses had been kind to her and now you considered Wanda and MJ to be friends. MJ and her boyfriend, Peter, had a young son and she had begged you to take the breakfast shift so that she could be home in the mornings. You had readily agreed, enjoying filling your days with work, and now it was your first morning shift.

You greeted Wanda as she pulled in and together you flipped on the lights and put on music to dance to as you started up the coffee machines and took down the chairs. It wasn’t long before people started coming in. Two men in uniform walked into the diner and sat in one of the booths in MJ’s usual section. You couldn’t stop the little voice in your head from appreciating how attractive they were, but you shut her down. You walked up to the table and plastered on a smile, “Morning, gentlemen. What can I getcha?”

The blonde looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t know you.”

Your internal voice snorted at the obvious statement and you nodded, “And I don’t know you. Now, what can I getcha?”

The dark-haired man did snort at the awkward interaction, “I will have a black coffee and whatever pie you have.”

“Does cherry work?” He nodded and you turned back to his friend, “And you, Officer Stranger?”

“That’s Sheriff Stranger—I mean Rogers—Sheriff Rogers.”

“Alright, Sheriff,” you decided to take pity on the awkward man, “What’ll it be?”

“Toast and black coffee.”

“Right away, Sheriff Stranger,” you flashed him a dazzling smile and went to put his order in.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, “Well done, Punk. You made a great first impression on the pretty waitress.”

Steve groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face, “Thanks, Buck. Appreciate it.”

“Get some coffee in you and try again. Maybe smile this time.”

After that first failed encounter, Steve had come to the diner every morning. For two weeks, he would come and sit in your section. You couldn’t help yourself and continued to call him Sheriff Stranger. It had evolved into a fond nickname, instead of a sarcastic quip. He had taken to sitting at the counter instead of the booths so that he could chat with you as you moved around. He had been surprised by how quick your mind was and it had become the habit for him to read the paper aloud, the two of you going back and forth about whatever the front page was reporting on.

That morning, just like every other morning, he put in his usual order of black coffee and toast. You threw your head back dramatically and groaned, “Stranger, you’re killing me. Variety is the spice of life. How about scrambled eggs? Home fries? A piece of fruit?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at your dramatics, “I like my toast and coffee, Sugar.”

“Fine!” You threw your hands in the air, “It’s your really boring funeral.” Steve chuckled under his breath as he looked back down at the paper. It didn’t take long for you to bring his plate over and when he put the paper down, he choked at the sight of what was on his plate. You meticulously had arranged a bacon smiley face with melon balls for eyes on top of his toast. You skipped away before he could say anything and he was left to stare at the ridiculous breakfast. Steve contemplated calling you over, but dreaded seeing the disappointment in your eyes. Instead, he popped a melon ball in his mouth and when he looked up, you had a massive grin on your face. You purposefully avoided looking over, but both of you knew this was a victory for Y/N.

After that first day, you continued to sneak new things on his plate often. The day after, you brought him his usual coffee and toast, but also put a glass of orange juice down. You winked at him, said something about vitamin C, and walked away to help another customer.

The day after that, it was an omelet with peppers and cheese. Every few days, you would allow him a respite from the over-the-top breakfasts and would bring him toast and coffee, but always added an orange juice to the order, insisting he needed some fruit.

One day when you allowed him to order his boring breakfast, as you’d dubbed it, you pulled the paper away from him, “I have to ask. Is the toast and coffee an indication of the other meals you eat? Because if you’re boiling your chicken, we are gonna have a serious problem.” Steve looked ashamed and you gaped at him, “Oh sweet Jesus! You boil your chicken!” You propped your head up with one hand, “It is flavor? Do you just hate things that taste good?”

“I am busy helping to run this town. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands.”

You looked incredulous, but perked up when you saw someone walk through the door. Steve could see the gears whirring in your head and knew this was not going to be good for him. “Officer Bucky, sir!” you waved him over, “I have a question for you! Answer it right and your meal is on me.”

The dark-haired man looked confused, but figured it didn’t hurt to try his hand at a free meal, “Alright, hit me.”

“What did you make for dinner last night?”

“Ciorba de Perisoare. It’s my mother's recipe for meatball soup. One of Nat’s favorites.”

You grinned victoriously at Steve and tapped the counter where there was a seat available, “That answer gets you one of those potato and cheese omelettes I know you love. Oh, and a slice of cherry pie.” You came back out with Bucky’s delicious looking breakfast and Steve’s sad toast and black coffee. The latter rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, begging God to give him strength to deal with the stubborn young woman who had captured his interest.

“Any chance you can tell me why I’m eating for free?” Bucky asked.

“I boil my chicken,” Steve grumbled.

“What?”

“You’re eating for free because I boil chicken.” Bucky just stared at Steve in disgust and confusion before turning back to his breakfast, shaking his head at the two clueless idiots.

It had been almost three months since you had moved to Lehigh. Once Bucky had told his wife about the pretty waitress at the diner that had ensnared Steve’s attention, Nat had made it her mission to befriend her. She had gone into the diner one day and chatted with you, inviting her to join her friends for a girl’s night. That had been the start of a beautiful friendship that had the redhead trying to sniff out what the feelings were between you and Steve.

At the diner, it had been a long day for you. It was nearly 4 in the afternoon and she was dead on her feet. Nat came flying into the diner, “Sugar, get your best outfit on! We are going out tonight.”

You shook her head at the amount of energy her friend had. All you wanted to do was finish your shift and go home to soak in the claw foot tub you’d just scrubbed clean the day before. You leaned against the counter putting on your best puppy dog eyes, “I have been on my feet since 6 o’clock this morning. The last thing I want to do is go out.”

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Nat hopped onto one of the stools at the counter as you poured her a cup of coffee, decaf of course, “It’ll just be some drinks at the Hideout. Please? First round’s on me.”

You groaned and then nodded, “How could I ever say no to you? I get off in an hour. We getting ready at mine or yours?”

“Mine. I already told Buck that they could meet us there.”

“They?”

“Yeah… Bucky and Steve.”

“Nat, don't tell me this is some setup for a double date.”

The redhead gasped in outrage, “What you must think of me! I just want my friends and I to spend a night out together.” You raised an eyebrow at her friend. Nat held her hands up in defeat, “I promise. No more setups.”

You finished up the last hour of your shift and timed-out. When you walked out, Nat was waiting for her. She drove over to Bucky and her home and they started getting ready. This had become such a common occurrence for the two women that she had taken to leaving a pair of clothes at Nat’s for convenience.

You had opened a bottle of wine while they got ready and by the time the two men arrived, you both had dissolved into giggles. It had not gotten better as the group got to The Hideout. You and Nat were having a great time and the music started playing. The latter had pulled Bucky out of their booth to dance. Steve had slung his arm over the back of the booth and in your inebriated state, you didn’t notice how much either of you had curled against each other. Tucked comfortably in the booth, you people-watched. As the music transitioned into a slower one, he held out his hand, “Dance with me, Sugar?”

“I’d love to,” you laughed as he pulled her out onto the floor. Soon the music slowed, and you were swaying together. Steve had chatted away about his work and you were happy to listen to him speak so passionately. Eventually, you leaned your head against his broad chest, feeling his hand move underneath her shirt. His fingers grazed your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You felt Steve’s heartbeat speed up and smiled softly to yourself. You weren’t alone the effects of being in such close contact. As the song ended, you lifted her head up and got sucked into his deep blue eyes. Just as you thought he was going to lean down and kiss you, the main door swung open and three women walked in. When Steve saw them, he cleared his throat and stepped back awkwardly. You were left feeling cold and confused as Steve walked away before you could ask him what was wrong. You moved to the bar, wondering if you’d just screwed everything up with that almost kiss. Steve had become the person you were closest to in town and without his company, the loneliness was sure to grow.

Throwing back a shot before heading to the bathroom, you needed a moment to clear her head. You stared into the mirror, wondering how you could fix your mistake. One of the stalls opened revealing one of the women that had come in. She washed her hands and fixed her lipstick before acknowledging you. The smile she gave didn’t reach her eyes. She spun around, “You’re Y/N, right? From the diner?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you were not sober enough to remember if she’s ever been into your work before, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

The blonde looked almost insulted that she wasn’t instantly recognized, “I’m Trish. Steve’s fiancée, Carly, is my best friend.”

You thought you were going to be sick right there on the floor, “Steve has a fiancée?”

“Oh yeah!” Trish explained, “It’s not official yet but she found the ring in his sock drawer a month ago. I’m sure that’s why he hasn’t mentioned it yet. But, it’s coming any day now”

“Right--,” you grabbed a paper towel and dried your hands quickly, “It was nice to meet you. I guess I should get back to my friend.” You hurried out of the bathroom and back to the booth, grabbing your purse and jacket. Thankfully, it seemed that Nat and Bucky were still occupied and you made a quick getaway.

The walk back home was only 20 minutes and as soon as the front door was shut, tears started to well in your eyes. You fanned your face, “Stop it. Stop it. He’s not yours.” Walking into the bathroom, you hated how much Steve had melded into your life. You’d brought paint samples into the diner one day and asked his opinion. Now, the color he picked seemed to mock you. How could she have been so stupid as to let this man in? Of course, he had a girlfriend, soon to be fiancé. Why would he want a waitress who forced her way into his life. God, I’m just a nag. You threw the towel against the wall and curled up in bed, letting yourself wallow in self-pity.

The next morning, Steve didn’t show up for breakfast. Every time the bell above the door chimed, your eyes jumped to see who it was and each time you cursed herself for being that way. Around lunchtime, Nat came in and looked upset. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye last night?”

You plastered on a fake, apologetic smile, “I started to feel sick and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“How did you get home?”

“I walked,” When Nat opened her mouth to scold her about being safer, you shook your head, “I know. I know. It was a stupid idea, but I was drunk. I promise I won’t do it again.”

The redhead nodded and then switched gears. A mischievous grin grew on her face, “You and Steve looked comfy on the dance floor last night.”

You scoffed as you turned to refill a coffee pot, “That’s never gonna happen.”

“But—“

You decided to be blunt, “I know about Carly.”

Nat looked confused, “And because of that you won’t give him a chance?”

“Definitely not. I’m kinda insulted that no one said anything to me.” A family walked in and sat in your section, “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

When you turned back to put the family’s order in, Nat was gone and it felt like a boulder was weighing on your chest.

It wasn’t until a week after that awful night that Steve deigned to come back to the diner. He looked like a child who’d just been told off by a parent. He took his usual seat at the counter and put his hand on top of yours when you came over, “I’m sorry about last week. Sugar, let me explain.”

You slid your hand out from under his and shook your head, “No need. I know the story now. I’m sorry if I gave off the wrong impression. Let’s just be glad nothing happened. I’ll bring your breakfast around.” When you brought him his meal, Steve felt sick to his stomach. There were no melon ball eyes, no bacon smile, not even a glass of orange juice. Just toast and a black coffee. You walked away before he could say a thing.

The food tasted like sand against his tongue and when he swallowed his last bite, he walked out and left the money on the counter without another word. As soon as he was out of sight, he pulled his cruiser onto the side of the road and threw up the “boring breakfast.” His temper was at an all-time high and he was shouting at everyone in the station. Finally, Bucky walked into his office and shut the door, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I fucked up and it’s unsolvable. I almost kissed Y/N last week, but Carly came in and I freaked out instead. You know how those women are and I thought that if they saw me with Y/N, they’d run her off. Turns out I was right. She said she’d heard enough and is glad that nothing has happened between us.”

Bucky was surprised to hear that. You had seemed too sweet to let something like Carly’s lies get to you. Especially without hearing Steve’s side. He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, Punk.”

Things did not improve as the weeks went on. First, your greetings had slowed down in their enthusiasm and he missed being called Sheriff Stranger. Steve tried to catch your eye, but you quickly put the plate down and went to another table. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your eyes weren’t as bright and he could see the makeup trying to hide how tired you were. Everything about Y/N was just off.

It was late that night when Steve swung around the back of the diner. The main parking lot was packed and he decided the back was easier. He saw a figure leaning against the wall and figured it was one of the waitresses on a smoke break. As he walked closer, Steve realized it was you and that you were asleep. You’d had walked out back for some air and had fallen asleep against the back wall. Steve shook you awake and you were embarrassed that you’d crashed like that. He pushed a strand of hair out of the way and you winced at the close contact. He pulled his hand back, “What’s going on, Y/N. Did something else happen?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. Steve hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up so that your eyes met his. He leaned down and kissed you, instantly making you dizzy. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moved closer until your back was against the brick, both of you intoxicated with the other.

You were interrupted by someone calling your name inside and you pulled away. With one look back, you hurried back inside. Steve ran a hand through his hair, a grin on his face. Maybe not all was lost if you kissed him back like that. You were the first person he’d been interested in since he’d ended things with Carly. After they’d broken up, she was so angry that she told anyone who would listen about how he couldn’t get it up and was all-around disappointing. One of the downsides of living in a small town was that once something was out, everyone knew. Since their breakup, Steve had been too worried to even try and date someone else. Suddenly, you’d shown up in a hail of melon balls and paint samples and the idea of trying again wasn’t quite so terrifying.

You had gone home that night, the kiss seared in your mind. It felt like you’d just closed your eyes when your alarm went off. It was a rough morning and you were nursing a cup of coffee when you saw Steve, Bucky, and Nat arrive and sit in one of the booths in your section. You groaned when you saw the shit-eating grins on all their faces and walked over to the table, “Morning. What’ll it be?” Bucky and Nat quickly put in their order and then you turned to the blond.

“Waffles.”

You just stared at Steve and slowly brought one hand up to his face. He cheered internally when he felt your cool hand on his forehead, “You don’t have a fever. Are you dying?”

Both Bucky and Nat were dying on the other side of the table. Steve didn’t take his eyes off of you, “Ha. Ha. You’re on me all the time to try something different; so I am.”

The smile that crossed Y/N’s face made it all worth it. She said nothing else, worried he’d change his mind. She put the order in and went to check on her other tables. The minute his breakfast was ready, Y/N brought it over to him, “I won’t force the orange juice on you today. So, your coffee is on me.”

“Sugar, you don’t need to do that. If I didn’t want the waffles I wouldn’t have ordered them.” Nat saw the smile falter at the pet name and decided she was going to get you to talk before she left.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m in charge of your bill. Just say thank you and tell me I’m right.”

“Thank you.”

You tried to stay busy as the trio ate, but you squeaked as Nat came out of nowhere and dragged you into the bathroom, “Spill.” You stammered as you tried to figure out what to say. “I know you and Steve kissed, but when he called you Sugar you looked like you were dying inside. Are you really so shallow that you’re going to let one little rumor from a heinous girlfriend ruin this chance?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m honestly super pissed off that you’d try and set me up with an engaged guy just because you don’t like his fiancee.”

“Who’s fiancee?”

“Steve’s!”

“Steve doesn’t have a fiancee.”

It felt like all the air had deflated from you, “What?

“Steve’s not engaged to Carly. Never was. They broke up over a year ago.”

“I don’t understand. Why would her friend tell me that?”

“Because Carly is a psycho bitch hates to see Steve happy. After they broke up, she told everyone that his little friend was less than great and he sucked in bed. Everyone in town has been talking about the two of you and how cute you guys are. You’re the first woman that he’s gotten the courage to any show interest in since it all happened.

“That…” You couldn’t believe you’d been trapped in such a lie, “BITCH! How could she do that to Steve? He’s like the sweetest guy ever!”

“He thought you’d heard the rumors and that’s why you pulled away.” You were so confused and just stood there. Nat smacked you on the arm, “Well, go out there! Kiss him and tell him that you're both idiots. Go!”

You were practically gnawing at your bottom lip, your stomach in knots. You walked up to the table, “Steve, could we talk?”

“Of course, Sugar.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, “Outside?” You grabbed his hand and dragged him out the front door. You bounced your leg as you tried to figure out how to start this, “Um--so--you see--I--.”

“Y/N?”

“Fuck it,” You threw caution to the wind and hooked your finger into Steve’s belt loop, pulling him in for a kiss. He buried his hands in your hair, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, both of you trying to catch your breath. His eyebrows were furrowed and vulnerability and fear shone in his eyes. “I am an idiot,” you blurted out.

“I’m just not quite sure what’s going on. We don’t talk for like two weeks and then I kissed you and you ran away and now you’re kissing me again.”

“I thought you were engaged.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, I know that now. Nat explained everything to me. The actual story. I have half a mind to burn down that bitch, Carly’s, house.”

Steve laughed and wrapped an arm around your waist, “I really don’t want to have to arrest you for arson.”

“Technically, it'll be attempted murde--,” He leaned down and kissed you again, shutting you up. You pulled back and smiled up at him. “I’m taking you out tonight. I’ll tell Nat to come by your place to help you get ready.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how well he knew you.

You turned to walk back into the diner and found every patron plastered against the windows watching you. “Somehow, I think she might already know, Stranger.” Steve just smiled at you and laced your finger together, walking back into the diner where it all began.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 10

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 In case you hadn’t guessed, this is my ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. A little voyeurism. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

You realised you must look like a fish, your mouth had dropped open in a big O. No sound came out of it though, as your brain had frozen solid when you’d heard Billy’s words.

He looked at you, worried frown on his face, “I know! I know what you’re gonna say. It’s too fast. I think it’s too fast too! - but I can’t help how I feel. It’s like I’ve run into a wall or something. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Wanna be with you all the time. Wanna make love to you all the time.”

You scratched the bristly hairs under his chin, running your fingers through them and into those on his neck. Still trying to think of what to say.

“Uh, I...” you stuttered, thinking ‘good start, “...Billy, I really like you. I’m enjoying being with you, and I’ve definitely got feelings for you. Already. And it scares the living shit out of me too. Not sure exactly what they are just yet,” you smiled at him, and were relieved to see him smile back. “But, yeah, I think I’ll hang around so I can find out. If that’s OK with you.”

He was still smiling, and leaned over to kiss you softly. “That’s more than OK with me. We can both be scared together.” Your arms went round his neck, your lips dotting little kisses onto his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Yeah - let’s do that.” His eyes were still closed and a happy little smile had appeared on his face.

Oh, and Billy?” Dark eyes opened slowly and looked at you, “You know how we didn’t use a condom?” A tiny little frown on his brow, “Yeah?” “There won’t be any mini-Russo’s running around, don’t worry. I’m on birth control.” He chuckled, “Okay, I suppose that’s good to know. Wouldn’t have been a problem if it did happen, though.” You burst out laughing, “Really? Not a problem for you, so you say, but have you thought about how it might’ve been a problem for me?”

He sat up a bit, “Well... no I guess I didn’t. Would it be that much of bad thing?” You lay down and stared up at the ceiling. After a moment or two of silence, you hummed and said, “Well, having kids is not in my immediate life plan, but I’m not ruling it out.” Billy perched his chin on your shoulder, and you turned your head to meet those deep dark eyes again. He grinned, “Okay, I hear you. Guess it’s not in my plans right now either. But I have to say, we’d make beautiful babies.”

You smiled, “Maybe... but you still aren’t getting me pregnant and locking me in the kitchen!”

Billy had just laughed, giving you more of the puppydog eyes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After Billy had finally enjoyed a very pleasurable joint shower the next morning - he’d been fantasising about that ever since that time she’d locked him out of her bathroom - he’d dropped her at the Chelsea café before heading out to Anvil. He had a huge smile on his face as he thought back to the two of you playing around under the warm water of her rainfall shower, having immense fun and indulging each other with erotic pleasures.

But then his smile faded a little bit. His mind had moved on and was now playing over their conversation from the previous evening. Should he have told her how he felt? Not that he’d meant to, to be honest, but his sex-drowsy brain and loved-up mindset had let his mouth just blurt it out. It wasn’t like he was lying or anything, he’d just not planned for it to happen that way or at that particular time. She hadn’t said she was in love with him, but he was very pleased that she’d actually admitted she had feelings for him, which was good enough for him for the time being.

He was making his second cup of coffee by the time Frank arrived, so made him one too. The two buddies lounged back in their chairs, sipping at their caffeine hits, and Billy started catching Frank up with the dramas of the previous day, who listened with an increasingly amazed look on his face.

When Billy got to the bit about Madani’s visit to Anvil and what she’d done as soon as she arrived, Frank swore out loud and said angrily that he shouldn’t leave it like that, he should report her. Billy sighed, “Now’s not the time, Frankie. My girl’s got the right idea, she wants to wait till the case is done and then we’ll see. Madani’s crazy mad enough right now without us stirrin’ up more trouble for her.”

Frank grumbled, “Even more unhappy havin’ to work with her now. She’s a loose cannon.”

Billy shrugged, “You know we don’t have a choice, Frankie. And it was my dumb idea to lead her on in the first place.” He looked over at him, “This hotel meet tomorrow should bring this whole fuckin’ thing to a close.”

Their case was coming to a head. There had been shady goings-on back in Afghanistan when the two friends had been in the Marines, involving black ops and drug-smuggling which had led to Madani’s then-partner getting killed, and Billy getting his Anvil funding from CIA bad guy Rawlins. He was dead now too. And Madani was determined to get his remaining accomplices, one way or another. Homeland was using an undercover agent to lure them into a trap with the promise of selling them video and phone tap evidence, and Homeland had agreed to work jointly with Anvil on it.

Frank and Billy had insider knowledge which was crucial to keeping the undercover agent safe from discovery. They were originally arrested after the gun battle which ended Rawlins’ life because Anvil had muscled in on the confrontation between him and Homeland, and Frank had killed Rawlins in the course of it. Once the remaining two accomplices were under arrest - tomorrow hopefully - Homeland had promised Billy and Frank that all pending charges against them would be dropped.

Frank frowned, looking like a huge irate teddy bear, “It better,” he said darkly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were immersed in paperwork, but your mind kept wandering. It was a busy little bee. All the stuff that had happened yesterday... it was a lot to take in. Madani’s two visits to you, her full-on assault of Billy, and then... Billy and what he’d said. Yeah, those three little words.

You could tell by his eyes when he’d said it that he’d surprised himself. At least he was as scared as you were. Did you love him? Really not sure. You definitely had feelings for him, that was for damn sure. When Madani had told you she was seeing Billy, you could have cheerfully murdered her. And again, when Billy told you what she’d done to him.

He’d told you this morning that in all honesty, if you hadn’t been in his life, his prior persona would have just let her carry on with it. You’d appreciated that he was being completely truthful with you, about that and also about stopping her in her tracks. He’d actually seemed quite shocked about how she’d behaved. And really not looking forward to seeing her again.

But he’d also told you that the case should be coming to a close tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait for it to be done and dusted. He also said he had a surprise for you which he’d tell you about tonight.

A smile crept onto your lips as you thought about seeing him that night. He was going to pick you up at your place and then head over to his, as he was cooking you dinner this time.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was flitting around his kitchen area, tea towel over his shoulder, wooden spoon in hand, picking up and moving pots and pans around his cooker, and basically just being a domestic god.

You were sipping wine, sitting at his kitchen table and watching this vision unfold in front of you, as you’d been told that you weren’t allowed to help. He looked edible, never mind the food - which smelt delicious. Billy was making pasta with meatballs in a tomato sauce, joking that it wasn’t quite as fancy as the lunch you’d made for him. And he’d also sliced fresh crusty bread with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar alongside for dipping.

“How’d it go with Mizzzz Madani today?” you asked, drawing out the “Ms” mockingly, dying to know what had happened. You could hear his sigh from where you were sitting. He looked over his shoulder at you, running a hand through his hair and frowning as he did, “Uhhhh... how can I put it? Really. Fuckin’. Awkward.”

He turned back to the food steaming away on the cooker top, continuing, “She just literally glared at me for the whole briefing. Like if she’d had knives with her, they’d all be stuck in me right now. Didn’t speak a word to me the whole time.”

“You know, Billy - that really fuckin’ annoys me! She’s the one who created the whole situation.”

Again a sigh, “Well, like I said to Frankie before the meeting, it was my dumb ass that thought leadin’ her on was a good way of getting her to keep us in the loop.”

“Yeah, you’re right but listen, she escalated this beyond reason when she stalked me and jumped you! You know what, Billy, once this is done and you and Frank are free and clear, I’m going after her ass.”

Billy started dishing up, chuckling as he did so, “That’s my girl!” “Billy, I reckon she thought I’d crumble when she marched into my café with her power dressing and big shiny badge. She picked the wrong person to piss off!” Strolling across to the table, Billy put the two plates of food down along with the cutlery, leant in and kissed you long and slow. “Mmmm,” he grinned, “yeah, she really did!”

His eyes softened, and he whispered, “I love you.” “Oh Billy,” you whispered back, and kissed him. Then you drew back, looking down at your dinner, “This looks and smells amazing!” “Stop changing the subject,” he grinned, sitting down and starting to eat. “Now that I told you, I’m just gonna keep saying it to you, and one time you might say it back to me!” You stroked his jaw, dragging your fingers through his beard, “You big sap.” He nodded, “Uhuh.”

“Now, tomorrow...” he continued, “...we’re finishing this thing. Can’t tell you details, but we’re gonna be based in one of the big hotels downtown. I’ve booked a room. Can you bunk off work to spend some time with your boyfriend? Sexy times in a fancy hotel room before he goes on his mission... and afterwards?”

You smirked, “Might do. If he makes it worth my while.” Bigger smirk from him, “He will, you can bank on it.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had dropped you home after dinner; he had to head back to Anvil as he, Frank and their team needed to get prepped for the next day. You felt quite giddy when you realised he’d taken time out just to make you dinner. Maybe you did love this guy!

You texted Jake & Jen to say you’d decided to take the next day off, but they could of course get in touch with you if need be.

Jake: No problem, have a great day off 😌

Jen: Lucky you!!!! 😉🥵

You laughed at Jen’s reply, cheeky woman! She’d guessed exactly what you’d be up to on your day off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Packing an overnight bag after you’d showered and dressed very early the next morning, you made sure to include some pretty lingerie. Billy was in for a treat.

Speak of the devil. Your phone chimed with a new text.

Your Boyfriend: I’m outside your place, my angel 😘

You: Do you have to be on time, all the time? 🙄😌

Your Boyfriend: Ex-Marine, darling 🥷😉😘

You: OK big boy, I’ll be down in 5 😘

Your Boyfriend: 🍒🍆😈

Twenty minutes later, you were driven into the hotel’s underground carpark in Billy’s SUV (no Wraith today!) and he asked you to wait in the car until he came back for you. Once he returned with the keycard, he took you up to the lifts via the fire exit stairs, so you wouldn’t have to walk through the lobby. Very cloak and dagger, you thought.

The hotel room was very fancy indeed, all boutique hotel chic. You’d just put your large tote bag down beside the bed, when two arms grabbed you, spun you round and threw you onto the bed. Billy nuzzled into your neck, making low growling sounds. His hands got busy unfastening your shirt, so you started on his, both of you kissing each other’s skin wherever you could reach it.

Billy groaned, “Angel... sorry, this is gonna have to be a really quick thing, m’nearly due to get kitted up for this fuckin’ op.” “That’s okay,” you gasped, “just get your clothes off, Russo.” He grinned, sitting up on his knees and stripping off his shirt, followed by his boots, jeans and CK boxer briefs. You were just lying there, eyes drinking in that fine body of his, until he took hold of his erection and gave himself a few strokes, stiffening even more. That snapped you out of your trance, and you sat up and stripped off your clothes quick as a flash.

You and Billy then kind of leapt on each other at the same time, and you found yourself tumbling backwards again onto the huge bed with Billy on top of you. He slid two fingers gently inside you before finding your clit and rubbing at it hard with his thumb. He was kissing your neck and then your breasts, licking your nipples roughly, making you give little squeals.

His fingers left you, and you felt him move his hard cock between your legs with his hand. He pushed inside with one big thrust and you gave a big, deep sigh at how good he felt inside you. Hearing Billy sigh out your name as he buried himself in you, you thought you also heard a click. Billy was kissing you hungrily and had started thrusting into you at a pretty fast pace. All thoughts of anything else went out of your head.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Dinah Madani had calmed down quite a lot over the last 24 hours.

She’d drunk herself into oblivion when she’d got home after leaving Anvil, and had to sit through that excruciating briefing with Russo and Castle the next day nursing a raging hangover. Did she regret what she’d done? Any of it? No, she didn’t.

To put it mildly, she wanted Billy Russo, and had thought she was going to get him. While she knew that she’d lost her head over him, that she’d looked so desperate when she’d jumped him in his office, she really didn’t give a shit. Madani had decided to take a shot at getting him back, and she’d taken it.

It hadn’t worked. That had really surprised as well as humiliated her. What did that bitch have that she didn’t? Anyhow, yeah - he’d kicked her to the curb, so she was just going to have to take it on the chin and move on. Not that she was happy about it, and easier said than done.

She’d decided to hunt Russo down in his room and go over some last-minute details with him. And if she was honest, maybe see if being in a hotel bedroom with him changed the dynamic any. The hotel manager had given her a master keycard as she was Agent-in-Charge of this undercover op. She was going to go in unannounced she decided, well she was the boss on this op after all. Maybe Russo would be in the shower, she mused to herself, with a pleasurable thrill.

As she opened the door and walked in, about to call out his name, what she saw did not please her in the slightest. Billy Russo’s naked tight ass thrusting up and down, him sighing and groaning out loud, lying in between a pair of legs, and she could just guess who they belonged to.

Wanting to turn round and get the hell out of there, Madani found herself rooted to the spot. It was like car crash TV... she just couldn’t bring herself to look away. So, she stood there and just watched.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

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