#did a deep clean today like emptied cupboards and cleaned and sorted them out also

[why-the-heck-not]

26.08.23, saturday

today was what we like to call "productive procrastination" aka the rest of my life is in shambles but I now have a clean kitchen

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So i just worked my ass off and retail is always crummy this time of year so I’m gonna escape with some sweet Arvin Russell writing. 

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The spring air was warm as the breeze swept over the low fence and fluttered the tails of shirts hung across the line. You grabbed two pegs and a swathe of damp fabric and stretched it over the cord, pinning it in place before moving along. Your old machine had taken much of the day to wrangle and had even received a kick. It was decades old, an heirloom inherited with the old country house and much more clunky than the modern machines. Not many in the county had anything more than the old wringing machines.

Roy would be home soon. Your husband hated to hear about how the wringer jammed so easily and the fear that your fingers might again be bruised by the mechanism. Even so, you were certain it wouldn't last for much longer. It's rattles foretold its imminent fate. You'd be back to a bucket and board soon enough.

As you hung the last piece, Roy's oil stained overalls, you heard the putter of the truck. You picked up the woven basket and headed for the gate along the front of the house. You waved as he pulled up, tires loudly mulching the dirt, and you stopped short as he came to a jagged halt. He wasn't alone and you were stillwearing your grimy and wet apron.

Roy pushed his door open so roughly it creaked. He stepped out and gave an exaggerated stretch as he glanced across the roof of the truck and slammed the door.

"Don't forget your bag, boy," he growled at the other man as he felt around the chest pocket of his overall for his smokes. "Looks like you're too late for laundry day."

"Roy?" You unclasped the gate and opened it as Roy stomped across the gravel and lit up a smoke, "How was your day?" 

You peeked over at the other man who climbed out of the truck. He wore similar overall, though they were unbuttoned over a greasy white shirt, and he was shorter and thinner than your husband. He reached back into the truck and grabbed a long military style duffel before he swung the door shut. 

Your husband grumbled and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"We have a guest?" You asked as you stayed by the gate.

"Arvin Russell," Roy flicked the ash away, "You remember I was talkin' 'bout renting out the attic."

"Um, yes," you blinked as the other man, Arvin, neared meekly. Roy had mentioned the idea once when he noticed the way his truck had started rumbling.  "It'll need a good dusting."

"So you better get on that." Roy coughed. "What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf," you answered and turned back to smile at the other man as he bowed his head and passed through the gate.

"Hello, missus," he said kindly, "Nice to meet ya. I work with your husband, says you're a fine cook."

"The one thing she can do," Roy muttered as he ambled up the steps of the porch and dropped onto the bench sat by the window. "You go grab us some bottles."

You closed the gate behind Arvin but he waited for you to precede him before going any further. He was surprisingly polite for any man who worked at the shop. 

"Yes, Roy," you hid your disappointment. Those nights when Roy started drinking before dinner rarely ended well.

"Can I just have some water?" Arvin asked as he followed you onto the porch, "Please. I didn't get to my lunch today so I'm not really feeling like drinking."

"Of course," you said, "If you're hungry, I got a box of crackers and some cheese I can bring out."

"Thank you but I'd hate to spoil dinner." Arvin sat on the end of the bench and kept his bag between his feet as Roy threw away his cigarette. "Thank you both for having me."

You nodded and quickly skirted inside. You were a bit confounded by Roy's sudden burst of generosity. He rarely did anything for anyone else. To think he'd offer a room to a coworker was unlike him.

You went to the old fridge, marked with dings and dents, and wiggled the handle until it opened. You remember the day you Pa had broken the handle, he'd always promised to fix it but had only managed to make it worse. You missed him. It was easy to miss him in this old place. His wedding present to you and Roy. It was too tragic he hadn't lived long enough to see you enjoy it.

You grabbed a brown bottle then filled a tall glass from the tap. You went back to the door and opened it with your elbow. You handed Roy his beer as Arvin stood to accept his glass of water.

"Thank you," he chimed but your husband only popped the cap of his beer with his teeth and glared out at the yard.

"Well dinner is in the oven still. I'll just be finishing that before I get started in the attic." You told Roy but he only shrugged and gulped down the beer. "Let me know if you boys need anything." 

"Peace and quiet," Roy snarled. "S'all I need right now."

Arvin gave a sympathetic look and traced his thumb along the side of the glass. You hid your discomfort and retreated inside. That was just Roy. He was always in a mood after work. An hour or two and he would mellow out. The beer would surely help.

🚬

When you finished supper, you called the men in to eat. Roy started his second beer as Arvin remained quiet and awkward at the table. You didn’t say much as you pondered the work still left to be done. You had to tidy the attic before the night ended and collect the laundry from the line. You would also have to clear the table and clean up the mess of your cooking.

You stood before the men finished. You scraped your untouched scraps into the dish of leftovers and placed the glass lid on it. You scoured the loaf pan as you listened to the clink of cutlery on plates and set the pots on the drying rack. You returned to the men to gather their empty dishes and Arvin thank you as Roy belched and stood with a satisfied but gruff rumble.

Arvin watched you as you tried to ignore the pity in his face. You knew your husband wasn’t the most loving or vocal, but he was yours and he worked hard. You turned away and went back to the kitchen. You finished washing the last of the glassware and dried it before stacking it in the cupboards.

As you passed through the dining room, Arvin was gone and you could hear the buzz of the radio from the front room. Roy always liked to listen to the game after he ate. Sometimes you sat with him and crocheted or read but not often.

You tiptoed upstairs and found the footstool hidden in the bottom of the linen closet. You climbed onto the step and reached up to unhook the cord of the attic door. It dangled down and you pulled it carefully as you backed off the stool and kicked it away. The steps unfolded and you barely stepped out of the way of their descent as the heavy wood thumped against the carpet.

It had been a while since you ventured up to the third floor. There was only dust and forgotten memories up there. You slowly made your way up and sneezed as you reached the top. A wall of boxes blocked the window along the front of the house and shrouded furniture sat beneath grimy sheets.

You started with the boxes. You took one and peeked under the flaps. Some old oil lamps hoarded by your father from his own parents. You awkwardly made your way back down to the second floor and placed the box at the bottom. When you had them all down, you’d take them into your father’s old room to store. Perhaps you should sort through them at last and get rid of the unneeded artifacts.

You were six boxes deep when you were startled by a shadow in the open hatch. You exclaimed and nearly dropped your armful as Arvin poked his head through and peered over at you.

“Arvin,” you gasped. “My apologies, this place is a mess.”

“Not so bad,” he climbed up and stood, “You need some help?”

“Don’t be silly, I can manage--”

“You’re right. It’s a mess,” he insisted, “A lot for just one person.”

You stared at him and gave a small smile. He was funny. He neared you and reached out for the box in your arms.

“How about this, I’ll stay on the ladder and you bring the boxes to me and I’ll take ‘em down.” He took the box gently from you, “It’ll be much quicker.”

You looked into his soft brown eyes and let him. He backed away and cautiously made his way down the ladder. You turned and grabbed another box and he reappeared through the hatch. You handed him the box of figurines and he retreated once more. You carried on and soon, the boxes were stacked high on the lower floor.

“Alright,” Arvin climbed up and dusted off his hands, “Already lookin’ better.”

He neared the old sofa against the wall and pulled off the sheet. He coughed as the dust was kicked up and it soon turned into a chuck as he waved away the cloud.

“We can keep this here,” he draped the sheet over his arm and pulled the next from the tall lamp with the glass shade, “Move this into the corner,” he continued on and peeked under a sheet before unveiling the tall shelf, “If you don’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. We should’ve sold all this years ago.” You teetered on your heels anxiously. Every piece reminded you of your father. “There’s a cot folded up over there,” you pointed behind a hidden end table, “But that wouldn’t be much better than the floor.”

“It’ll do,” he assured you and turned to sit on the sofa. He bounced as he hugged the sheets. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Well, there’s a bed down in my pa’s room. We could try to bring it up tomorrow. If you don’t mind offerin’ a little more help.” You wrung your hands. You were never very good with strangers and Roy’s friends often weren’t much nicer than him. You were tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think I could do that,” he stood and wiggled his nose as a sneeze threatened. “You got a broom? Maybe a duster?”

“You’ve done enough, I can finish it--”

“Ma’am, I’m a guest in your home. I might be paying for the room but it doesn’t make you my maid,” he intoned, “You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well since before my momma died.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry,” you uttered. “I--”

“Now, don’t be sorry,” he cooed, “Nothing to be sorry for. I assume you lost your daddy if his bed is free.” 

You nodded dumbly and blinked.

“Well, at least let me take these,” you reached for the sheets and he hesitated before he let you take them. You struggled to keep them balled up and hugged them against your hip as you turned back to the hatch. “I’ll bring you the broom.”

“Thank you,” he said behind you and you looked back at him as you took your first step down the ladder, “You let me know when you bring that washin’ in and I’ll help you fold.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to. Makes me feel a little better about stealin’ your attic,” he assured you.

You looked down and slowly descended. As your feet met the carpet, you sighed and looked around at the boxes. You couldn’t remember a time Roy had ever offered to help with anything. If it wasn’t to do with his truck, he couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.

🚬

You were completely drained by the time you retired to your bedroom. You were still on edge, your exhaustion laced with anxiety as you unbuttoned your blouse. You sat on the side of the bed as you slowly undressed. It was still absurd to you that another person, barely more than a stranger, was living in your home. In your father’s house.

It changed your whole routine. You couldn’t help but go over it in your mind. That meant three plates, not two, for every meal, that meant the laundry basket would fill up quicker, than meant the shoes tracks in the front entrance would need to be mopped up more often. That mean you had to act like your marriage was truly happy.

You pulled on your night gown, the short sleeves tickled your upper arms as you dropped your clothes in the wicker basket on your chest of drawers. A framed photo of your parents’ wedding day sat beside it and on the shelf beside the door, was your own wedding portrait.

Three years wasn’t so long but it felt an eternity. You couldn’t quite recall when Roy had changed. When the beer had started to taint his kisses and his words. When all pretense fell away and only the man remained. The brutish country boy with the churlish demeanour.

Maybe the first day of your marriage. Maybe. You were so nervous on your wedding night that it angered him. You’d mend your dress one day, hopefully when you had a daughter of your own so you had something to promise her. 

Or maybe a week after the wedding, when you broke the vase gifted to you upon your nuptials and it shattered across the floor. Roy’s booming voice and his boulder-like fists.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, a month in when the world went black with his hand on your throat and you awoke alone on the kitchen floor.

Maybe a year when your finger was dislocated by a slammed door. Maybe the next year when you couldn’t sit for the pain in your hips. Maybe the one after when he’d grown impatient for a child only to find your sheets soaked in blood. 

Maybe it had always been there, from the first date, but you’d simply refused to accept it. Not you. Not Roy. You loved him and he loved you, didn’t he?

The door slammed and shook you from your sombre recollections. You looked up as Roy stumbled in. He snickered darkly as your eyes met his and his legs wobbled beneath him drunkenly.

You slid off the bed and turned to plant your elbows on the mattress. A prayer before bed, as your grandmother had taught you. Another sarcastic chuckle aimed in your direction as Roy’s stained white tee missed the basket.

“On your knees for me already,” he sat beside your elbow as he unbuckled his belt.

You couldn’t focus on your inner recitation. You could smell the alcohol on him, the stench of oil and his sweat. You clutched your hands together and cleared your throat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked calmly.

He frowned and stood to shove his pants past his knees. He kicked the jeans away and fell heavily back to the bed.

“Call you?” He sneered.

“To let me know about our guest?” You wondered innocently. “I could’ve readied for him better.”

“Workin’,” he growled. “I don’t got time to be callin’ you with my head under an engine. Fuckin’ Christ.”

“There isn’t a bed in the attic.” You said.

“So. Arv’s small enough. I’ve seen him sleep on a stool.” Roy spat. 

You hid your chagrin behind your hands as you pressed them to your lips.

“Why’d you bring him?”

Roy’s nostrils flared and a fist formed atop his hairy thigh. “I gotta explain to you?” He snapped. “He paid me outright and he been sleepin’ at the motel since he started.”

“Mr. Dace has a room--”

“Mr. Dace lives twice as far as we do. I did the kid a favour. He saved my ass his first day.” Roy stomped his foot. “Woulda burned down the whole garage if he hadn’t caught that leak.”

“Kid? He that young?”

“Couple years younger than you, I s’pose, maybe less,” Roy rubbed his cheeks and shook his head, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Curious,” you said quietly and closed your eyes as you rested your chin on your knuckles.

Roy was quiet. He let out a long, thick breath and the bed jolted beneath your arms.

“You finished bleeding?” He asked gruffly. 

“I’m praying, Roy,” you insisted.

“How long’s it take you? I’m sure God’s heard it all before.”

“Don’t talk like that, R--”

You squeaked as he grabbed your wrist and wrenched your arms away. He rose and lifted you with him. Always a strong man, he moved you like a puppet to his will. He took your other wrist and pulled you against him.

“You know, I don’t even care if you’re bleeding.” He turned you and shoved you onto the bed. You cried out as you bounced so hard you bit your tongue.

“Roy, please, I’m tired,” you stared up at him fearfully as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. You could taste blood.

“You’re my wife. You do your duty.” He pushed his underwear down as his cock twitched. “You got energy to wash all them clothes, you can lay on your back for your husband.”

“Roy--”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “We got company. I don’t need ya keepin’ him up with your whining.”

You closed your eyes as he fell onto you. He crushed you beneath him as he tugged your skirt up harshly. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you braced yourself for his painful intrusion. Even so long into the marriage, you had never grown used to his touch.

He retracted his hand and began to touch himself. He stroked his cock as he swore under his breath.

“Fuck. Come on.” He moved his hand quicker and rubbed his soft tip against your folds. “Open up.” 

He forced his dick against your entrance and tried to push inside. He was still half-flaccid and struggled to get further than an inch. You balled your hands and sank your head into the mattress as he thrust. He fell out of you, softer than before.

You opened your eyes sat up on his knees and looked down at his limp dick. He gritted his teeth as you watched him.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he punched your stomach as hard as he could and you wheezed as you folded in on yourself. “Can’t even keep me hard.”

“Roy--” You hissed. “I’m s--”

“One more word and you’ll be real sorry.” He pushed himself from between your legs, making certain to pinch you as he did.

He stood and turned. You barely moved out of the way before he sprawled over his side of the mattress. You held your stomach, a painful pressure lodge there, and rolled to the edge of the bed. You reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp. 

As you laid back, Roy caught the back of your neck and kept you in a painful limbo.

“On the floor,” he jarred your neck as he tried to throw you off the bed. “Like the dog you are.”

You slid off the side and landed sharply on your knees. You stifled a shameful sob and lowered yourself down onto your side. You bent your knees and cushioned your head on one arm. You stared into the void beneath the bed as the frame groaned beneath Roy’s heavy body.

“Goddamn bitch,” he uttered groggily. “Fuckin’--”

His words turned to snores as he finally drowned in his bellyful of beer. You listened to his jagged, drunken breaths as you shivered on the cold wood. You closed your eyes and recalled the first night you’d slept on the floor. You’d been in much poorer shape and it had been the dead of winter.

At least, you didn’t have to sleep next to him.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch23: Unnamed, Generic Baked Item

Summary: Fliss picks her wedding dress, whilst Frank has some great inspiration about a birthday present for his future wife…

Warnings: Bad language, 18+, Smut (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is totally dedicated to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork . But it’s still a f**kin’ biscuit!

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 22

 “Mary, enough!” Frank’s voice rose and Mary glared at him, folding her arms.

“This is so unfair!” She exclaimed and Frank took a deep breath as he fed Alex another spoonful of porridge.

“You know what? You might think that, and I’m not even digging into the reasons why you’re wrong, but Fliss is already nervous enough about today and you kicking up a fuss over it is not going to help,” Frank levelled her with a look, “so get it out of your system right now, because if you’re still moaning when she comes down the stairs, you and me are going to fall out. Big time.”

Mary blinked, and then frowned. “What’s she nervous about? She’s only picking a dress.”

“Because it’s her wedding dress. It’s a big deal.”

“Which is why I wanna go!”

“And it’s also why you’re not!” Frank shot back, turning and feeding Alex some more as the baby had started to protest due to his dad’s attention being elsewhere. “Stack, you got bored within twenty minutes when they took you for your bridesmaid dress last week, so no, you’re staying here.”

“But-“

“It’s not open for debate,” Frank’s voice dropped even further, the warning tone unmistakable, “but feel free to carry on, see where it gets you.”

Mary was saved the trouble of responding as, at that point, Alex gave a loud yell and the bowl of porridge Frank had been feeding him from was knocked from his hands and landed all over the leg of his jeans. There was a pause, as Frank glanced down at the slop spreading over his thigh before he looked at Alex whose eyes were watering and seconds later a loud wail of frustration at the lack of food burst from his son’s mouth.

“For fffff sake, why?” Frank groaned, cutting the swear word short as he ran his hand through his messy hair, shaking his head.

“You know, I’m not much of one for all that fate and philosophy stuff,” his mother spoke as she walked into the kitchen, “but this, Frank, really does feel like straight up karma.”

Frank glared at her as he stood up and took the tea towel from the side and wiped at his jeans. “Fuck my life,” he muttered under his breath as Thor happily trotted over to the spilt porridge on the floor, cleaning it up with laps of his large tongue, Fred also hopping down off the seat at the breakfast bar to investigate the coveted, spilt human food.

“Karma for what?” Mary asked, from where she’d successfully manage to distract Alex from his tears by waving his little stuffed lion at him, the baby making grabbing gestures towards it.

“His own spectacular ability to misbehave.” Evelyn looked at Mary as she handed Alex the toy. “You know, he once sat down in the middle of a supermarket and refused to leave because I told him that it was Wednesday and Wednesday does not begin with the letter S”

Mary roared with laughter as Frank tossed the dirty towel into the sink before reaching into the cupboard for another jar of baby porridge.

“Look, that big yellow feathered bastard on Sesame Street told me that day was brought to me by the letter S.” He looked at Evelyn, then to Mary who was still howling with laughter, Alex now joining in, all tears forgotten. “He lied.”

“That was a particularly furious melt down, Francis.” Evelyn grinned and Frank rolled his eyes as he got the replacement porridge ready.

“What did you do?” Mary asked.

“It was your Grandfather that sorted him out, darling. He threw Frank over his shoulder and carried him straight out of the shop. I don’t know what he said or did, but by the time I got back to the car Frank was quiet as a mouse.”

“I think he threatened to feed me to said big yellow feathered bastard.” Frank chuckled as he sat back down and offered Alex another spoon of porridge which the baby eagerly took, making little appreciative noises as he did so. “Did you not notice I never watched another episode?”

“Another episode of what?” Fliss asked, and Frank looked up smiling at her as she crossed the room, Alex’s noises getting more excited as he looked at his momma.

“Sesame Street.” Evelyn supplied as Frank gave Alex another spoon of his breakfast, as Fliss dropped a kiss first on Mary’s head, then Alex’s, before finally pressing one to Frank’s cheek

“I’m not even gonna ask.” She snorted, moving to pour herself a coffee.

“Probably wise.” Mary nodded and at that Frank laughed.

“First sensible thing you’ve said all morning.” He teased, drawing another glare from the ten year old.

“Shut up.”

“Erm, enough.” Fliss looked at her, then to Frank. “The pair of you are worse than he is.” She nodded to Alex and then turned to Evelyn, waving the coffee pot in a silent question.

“Oh, no thanks. I had a tea before.” Evelyn smiled.

At that point, Thor gave a little woof and ran to the utility room, as Verity’s voice rang out in greeting.

“Nanny V!” Mary ran to her, giving her a huge hug as Verity smiled, bending down to give her a hug.

“Hey Pudding!” She beamed, standing up, before she glanced around the room, smiling. “Oh, where’s my little man?”

“I suspect at home on the sofa.” Frank quipped, earning him a light slap round the head as Verity leaned down to give Alex’s head a soft kiss, the baby laughing and grabbing at her hair. Frank hastily un-fisted Alex’s fingers from his Nanna’s auburn locks and handed him the spoon to play with instead.

“You ready?” Verity asked, looking at Fliss. She nodded, taking a large gulp of coffee before setting the mug down on the side.

“I’ll just go grab my purse.”

As Fliss left the room, Frank looked at Verity. “She’s nervous. A little overwhelmed I think.”

“Yeah, well it’s getting nearer and this is a big deal to most girls.” Verity smiled. “Plus, we all know she didn’t get to choose her last one so…”

“Well, let’s do what my mother did to me.” Evelyn smiled, as she looked up from where she’d been examining her lipstick in a pocket mirror. “Ply her with enough champagne and make it fun. She’ll be fine.”

Verity smiled and Frank rolled his eyes. “The last time you two plied her with champagne she barfed all over the bedroom.”

“Well,” Verity smirked, “that’s your problem now, not mine. Lord knows I’ve cleaned up enough of her and Steve’s drunken messes in my lifetime.”

“Thanks V.” Frank nodded seriously. “Thanks, a lot.”

*****

 Fliss took a deep breath, zoning out as she rifled through a rack at the back of the room. Verity, Evelyn, Bonnie and Sian were all chatting away behind her but it was merely background noise as she scanned dress after dress, nothing catching her eye.

“Have you any idea on what you want?” A soft voice behind her made her jump and she turned to see the assistant, a slight, grey haired woman called Sofia who had been assigned to help them today.

“Nope.” Fliss sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m totally useless.”

Sofia laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it Miss Gallagher, a lot of women come in with either no ideas at all or tonne of ideas that don’t work out. If you don’t know what you want, do you know what you don’t want?”

“Yeah, that’s easy.” Fliss nodded. “I don’t want anything huge, or full of tulle or, you know-” she held her arms out to the side. “-princess bride like. Did that last time, hated it.”

“In that case we can completely ignore these two racks!” Sofia smiled and Fliss grinned as she allowed the woman to lead her a little further round the room. “And that’s half the battle. So, have you been anywhere else before here?”

“Two other boutiques.” Fliss nodded. “And I found nothing.”

“You know, most people think it’s all easy and fun hunting for dresses but, well, I know when I was looking it was so stressful!”

“You’re not wrong.” Fliss stopped at one dress which had caught her attention. It was a plain, off white colour with a simple skirt and bodice with a little beaded detail and chunky straps. “I kinda like the cut of this one.”

“Ah, a trumpet cut.” Sofia supplied, nodding.

“But I don’t know about the neckline, it’s a little…”

“Boring.” Sofia smiled as Fliss snorted. “But, we’ll take it for reference.” The woman lifted it off the rack, placing it onto the rail she’d wheeled alongside them. “So where are you getting married?”

“St Pete’s Public Access.” Fliss smiled. “Which is another reason I don’t want a huge dress. I’ll melt.”

Sofia laughed. “Not to mention the sand getting stuck in it.” She grinned. “Okay, what about this one?”

She lifted a similar cut dress off the rail, this one with a slightly more detailed neckline and Fliss nodded. “Yeah, I quite like that.”

“And this one.”

As Sofia held up the third dress, Fliss paused, tilting her head to one side. “I love the back of this.” Sofia gushed, turning it round. “It’s so detailed.”

“It’s beautiful.” Fliss smiled, her hand reaching out to brush the detailed lace as she studied the garment in front of her.

“Oh, wow!” She heard her mum say and she turned to look at her, then Bonnie who held up the bottle of champagne, Fliss handing over her now empty glass. “Lissy, that’s stunning!”

“It’s gorgeous isn’t it?” Fliss beamed, taking the refilled glass off Bonnie with a thanks.

“The detailing.” Evelyn mused, before she looked at Sofia. “Is that a Nicolle Miller by any chance?”

“Yes.” Sofia looked at Evelyn, frowning, and Fliss turned her head to look at her future mother-in-law, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s from Massachusetts.” Evelyn smiled. “I’ve seen a few of her dresses from time to time, they’re quite recognisable if you know what you’re looking for.”

“My fiancé’s from Boston.” Fliss informed, and Sofia’s mouth made a little O of understanding before she smiled.

“Well, if that isn’t a sign then I don’t know what is.” She beamed. “Would you like to see it on?”

Fliss bit her lip, before she looked at her mum her gave her a huge smile. With a grin on her face, and for the first time that day, a feeling of excitement in her stomach she nodded. Handing her champagne over to Bonnie, she followed Sofia into the changing room at the back, and was soon out of her denim shorts and t-shirt, stepping into the dress. Sofia came in to help her do it up, and it wasn’t even half way fastened before Fliss simply knew this was what she wanted, not even caring it was the first one she’d tried on. Nothing was going to come close to this.

“It’s a little big, around the bust so just give me a second.” Sofia moved to the back of the cubicle and picked up a few clothes pegs, tugging the dress around so it fit right and Fliss smiled, smoothing her hands down over her stomach as she stood, admiring it.

It was hard to guess at the actual shape as its bottom dabbled somewhere between a trumpet and mermaid cut. Her hips were accentuated by the firm fitting cream colored, hand stitched floral lace sewn into a nude overlay. Her back and side panels were completely different. The creamy lace design covered her back and sides with just her soft and delicate skin underneath, the nude underlay that covered her breasts and behind a near match to her skin. It hugged her curves perfectly, the lace covered her shoulders and down her chest in a two finger width and came together in a beautiful heart shape neckline, showing off her delicate décolletage shoulders. It kissed her skin, allowing enough cleavage but much to the imagination as it elegantly, and yet still incredibly sexy, covered her body.

It was something Fliss would never have dreamed of getting married in before but now, well, it felt right. It felt like her.

She took a shaky breath, her vision swimming with tears before she locked eyes with Sofia in the mirror, the older woman giving an appreciative nod. “It looks gorgeous, Honey!” She then handed Fliss a tissue and Fliss took it, giving a little shake of her head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t apologise,” Sofia waved her away, “it’s a big thing. Now, you ready to go show the rest of them?”

Fliss nodded and Sofia gathered up the train of the dress, and Fliss stepped out of the little room and into the main area of the boutique. As she moved into the room, the other four women turned to face her and Verity’s hand immediately flew to her mouth.

“What do you think?” Fliss asked, shyly. “I know it’s the first one I’ve tried on but I don’t think I want to bother with anymore, I love it.”

Bonnie raised her eyebrows, her mouth falling open. “Oh my God, Fliss.” She gasped. “It’s…”

“Stunning.” Evelyn nodded in agreement, as Sian gave a hum.

“Liss, you’ll knock him dead.”

Fliss gave a smile and then looked at Verity. “Mum?”

Verity’s hand was shaking as she moved it down, and she opened her mouth, before she closed it again, taking a deep and shuddering breath, Sian curling her arm round her shoulder.

“Oh, Lissy…” Verity sniffed, her face creasing up as the tears began to slide down her cheeks. Immediately, more tissues were offered as Fliss also felt her eyes watering at the sight of her mum crying in front of her.

“Mum, don’t!” She gave a little laugh and Verity shook her head, dabbing at her eye.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart but I never thought I’d be here with you, trying on dresses as last time…” She stopped herself as Sian gave her a squeeze. “And now seeing you there with that look on your face, in that dress, ready to marry a man you deserve to be with, well, this is all I ever wanted for you.”

By the time Verity had finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, even Sofia had shed a tear. Verity stepped forward and carefully pulled her daughter into a hug, before she stepped back, kissing her forehead.

“I love you, my baby girl.” She sniffed. “God, your dad is going to bawl his eyes out when he sees this!”

Fliss smiled, and Sofia then directed her onto a little box before she called over to another woman who headed across the room with a tape measure. As they took a few measurements for the alterations, Fliss was vaguely aware that her Mum and Bonnie were both taking a photo, but in all honesty her eyes were glued to her reflection in the mirror in front of her. And she wasn’t looking at her dress. She was fixated on the huge smile that was on her face, a smile that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop.

****** “Hey, Stack, how about we go outside for a little while?” Frank opened the door to the den. “Alex has gone down for his nap so it’s just us.”

“In a minute, I’m just looking at something.” She replied, her eyes still on her laptop as she lounged on her beanbag, Heartland playing on the TV in the background.

“Come on, you’ve been sat in here for hours.”

“Yeah but this is really cool.” She looked up. “I’ve been tracing Monty’s lineage again for my collage, and then I got looking at Heidi’s and dug into all this cool info on her and the other horses that she was bred from.”

Frank obliged as Mary gestured to him, taking a seat next to her on the floor as she moved the laptop so he could see it.

“So, this is Heidi, ‘Sandybrook Hideaway’.” Mary’s fingers pointed to the box at the left of the screen. “And this is Heidi’s dad, ‘Louella Inschello’ and this is her mom, ‘Tremontano Esmerelda’. I can go even further back and find like her grandparents and great grandparents all the way into the seventies.”

“How come Heidi had the name Sandybrook?” Frank asked. “And not Louella or Tremontano or whatever?”

“It doesn’t work like with humans.” Mary shrugged. “You can’t use people’s prefixes that don’t belong to you when you’re naming a horse. Fliss said that the people who bred Heidi made the prefix Sandybrook because of their farm being near the beach in England, and there was a brook running alongside the fields. That’s what all their horses then became called, Heidi being the first, look…”

She moved the screen along a little, and Frank traced the little line that ran from Heidi’s name to another box. “’Sandybrook Typhoon’, sire- Renkum Renogade, dam- Sandybrook Hideaway…” he trailed off before he looked at Mary. “Heidi had a baby?”

“Yup.” Mary nodded. “Fliss showed me photos of him on their website. He’s huge. And real pretty. He was a big, fancy dressage horse that one her friends used to compete and they kept him at the stud farm to breed from because he was that pretty, but he died three years ago. He broke his leg and couldn’t get better.”

“Ouch.” Frank grimaced.

Mary nodded. “I know. This was his last foal, look. ‘Sandybrook Cleopatra’. She was born in 2017, and check out her mom’s name.”

“Sandybrook Dirty Diana.” Frank smiled, and let out a chuckle as Mary smiled at him as she clicked on a small link which opened up to show a beautiful bay filly with four white socks and a white blaze. Her face markings instantly struck Frank as being very similar to Heidi’s even if she was a different colour.

“So this would mean that this one is Heidi’s granddaughter?” Frank asked.

“Yup.” Mary nodded.

“That’s pretty cool, Stack.”

“Mom thought so too.” Mary grinned. “She showed me how to do it as I wanted to check out Monty’s history. I asked her about Heidi’s and she showed me this and she was like, really smiling when she saw Cleo, she didn’t know they’d had a foal from Typhoon the year he died. And there’s lots of photos of Heidi as a baby too on their history page, and she has a really cool profile.” She took a pause for breath and Frank gently dropped his hand to the back of her head, smiling at her enthusiasm. “They added a bit last week to say she’d died and it’s kinda sad but also kinda nice. They thanked Fliss her for giving her a wonderful home and said there was no one better on the Earth for your horse to be sold to than an Olympic Gold Medal winner.”

“How did they know she’d died?” Frank asked. “Did Fliss call them?”

“She emailed them. She said she had also asked them about Cleopatra.”

“Asked about her? You mean to buy?”

“I think so.” Mary nodded. “She sold Bronson the other month and now Heidi is gone she only has Cap left.”

“Yeah, I know. She mentioned maybe getting another but I didn’t know she’d been looking.”

“I don’t think she has, it’s just because she saw Cleopatra. I mean, it would be cool if she did buy her.” Mary shrugged. “She’s a part of Heidi in a way isn’t she?”

“Yeah, suppose she is.” Frank mused. “So, was Fliss not sure about her then or…”

“She said she liked her.” Mary shrugged. “But she’s not for sale on the website so I don’t know what they said. They might have said no, or maybe it’s because she’s busy. You know what she’s like.”

Frank did, only too well. When it came to buying things for herself to enjoy, Fliss was actually very reserved. She didn’t think twice about buying stuff for the house, or for the family, or her work, but her own, personal things, she seemed to have a real reticence to simply splurge on, and he had a feeling that went back to when she’d been married previously.

As his eyes flicked over the details on the screen, an idea flashed in his head. And it was a crazy one but…

“What do you think she would do if we bought her one for her birthday?” He turned to Mary.

“What, bought her a horse?”

“Yeah.”

“This horse?” Mary pointed at the screen to the picture of the bay mare and Frank nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Probably call you a crazy asshole, start crying and say it’s the best present ever.” Mary looked at him and Frank chuckled.

“I can live with that.”

“You know, you better hurry up if you’re gonna do it. Mom’s birthday is like, weeks away!”

“It’s not until the end of July.” Frank replied. “We got nearly two months. Do you not think that will be enough time?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never shipped a horse over here from England!” Mary scoffed, before they shared a look, almost identical expressions of realisation crossing their faces as they instantly realised they both knew someone who had. “Poppa Bill!” Mary stated excitedly. “He’ll help!”

“Sure he will.” Frank nodded. “Right, you better get me the email address, Stack. And not a word of this to Mom okay? This is top secret.”

“What do you take me for?” Mary looked at him indignantly and Frank looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You really want me to answer that?”

Mary pondered for a moment before she snorted. “Not really.”

******

“So, did you have a nice time today?” Frank asked as they lay in bed later that night.

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled, snuggling further into his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm, his fingers softly tickling her skin. “I did.”

“Good.” He kissed her head. “I’m glad. You were so worried about it all.”

“That obvious, huh?” She sighed and Frank chuckled.

“To me, yeah.” He shifted a little to look down at her. “But that’s only because I know you so well.”

“I didn’t know what to expect.” She shrugged. “I was just a little overwhelmed at the thought, you know, of having to make the decision but when we got to the first shop, I dunno, I kinda realised that I’ve been making decisions about our wedding all along. And, when it came down to it, it wasn’t really that much different to when we picked your suit.”

Frank chuckled. “To be fair, Sweetheart, we’d been in the shop all of five minutes before you spotted the one you liked.”

“Hey, it wasn’t just me.” She protested, tilting her head to look at him. “You liked it too.”

“I do.” Frank agreed. “But I saw the look on your face when you saw it which is what completely sold it to me.”

A lightweight wool three piece suit dyed a stunning steel blue shade had fit Frank expertly. It made his eyes pop and the crisp white button down underneath offered a nice contrast. But what made Fliss fall for the ensemble was the tie. The flash of burgundy, sand, white and grey stood out against the white dress shirt with the stripes of blue pulling in the blue of the three piece. The tailor suggested a printed silk pocket swath with polka dots and paisley printed against a deep blue background.

Frank caught Fliss’ eye in the mirror as the tailor straightened the back of his jacket and arched his brow. She hastily released her lip from between his teeth and gave him a little sheepish look, and he bit back the snort at the fact he’d just caught her looking at him in the way she usually did when she was feeling a little bit ‘frisky’ for want of a better word.

“But I’m clean.” Frank joked, causing the tailor to look up a little, puzzled expression on his face and Fliss laughed.

“Yeah, well this is clearly your Professor look, not the dirty boat daddy one.”

At that the tailor scooted off, Frank watching him go before he turned to Fliss and shook his head. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

She shrugged and smiled as she looked him up and down appraisingly, stepping forward and smoothing her hands up the lapels of the jacket. “You look incredibly handsome, babe.”

Frank gave her a smile and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You almost sound surprised.”

“Not at all.” Fliss shook her head.

A cough from the tailor interrupted them as he had returned with a shoe box and Frank gave him a nod as Fliss stepped back. Once he had laced up the shiny, burnt brown oxfords, Frank moved again to take in the final, finished look and took a deep breath, smiling.

He liked it. A lot.

“So basically, you picked the first suit you tried on and I picked the first dress I tried on.” Fliss snorted and Frank shrugged. “We’re getting married on the beach, having what is basically a barn dance with food trucks…are we taking any of this seriously?”

“Nope.” Frank shook his head and Fliss laughed again as he moved, rolling her a little so she was on her back and he was hovering over her. “But, I think both of us have taken life far too seriously for far too long enough, time for a little fun.”

“Well that fills me full of confidence since we’re writing our own declarations.” She teased and Frank arched his brow.

“You’re talking to an ex Philosophy Professor-”

“Assistant-“

“Whatever, the point is, I’m very good with words.” Frank smirked and Fliss scoffed. “I got you to go on a date with me, didn’t I?”

“That wasn’t down to your words.” Fliss shook her head.

“No? Was it my devastating good looks?”

“That and the fact you’re basically the best man I’ve ever met.” Fliss smiled. “Well, apart from my dad. And Steve. So you’re definitely in the top three best men I’ve ever met.”

Frank laughed and took a deep breath, before he moved, propping himself up a little on his elbow, brushing Fliss’ hair back off her face. “Joking aside, marrying you is something I’m taking very seriously. I can’t wait to say ‘I do,’ get that ring on your finger and finally call you my wife as well as the mother of my kids. But the minute that bit is done then, all bets are off. No stuffy formalities, no pointless, boring traditions, well, apart from the ones we decide we wanna uphold and absolutely no vowing to obey,” he looked at her as she took a breath, “which is a relief because, frankly, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being bossed around.”

Fliss smiled, knowing full well what he was saying. That vow had been one that John had insisted on, and whilst she had never raised the issue to Frank directly, because in all honestly she didn’t feel she needed to, the fact he’d picked up on the way she’d subtly opted for the other vows when they’d had to pick them for the official, made her heart swell in her chest.

“So, I err, I also had another off the wall idea.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I know we said we weren’t gonna give each other presents and stuff for the wedding, but, I thought…actually, forget it.”

“No, come on tell me.”

“No, it’s…”

“Liss!” He said, looking at her and she sighed, her eyes moving away from his, scanning the inked words just below his collar bone.

“Tatoos.” She whispered, looking back at him. “I thought, well, that we could get one each. Not matching as such, but you know, for each other.” Frank blinked and she snorted. “See it’s a dumb idea, I just really want another and well, that was another thing I was never allowed, and-”

“I didn’t say it was dumb.” Frank cut her off, shaking his head. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about getting another for a couple of months now, I want one for Alex, so having one for you too, well then I’ve got a full set.”

She smiled, her fingers reaching up and tracing the Taurus on his bicep, Mary’s star sign. “What you thinking of getting for Bean?”

“The time of his birth, and the date underneath all in Roman numerals. On my other arm.”

Fliss beamed. “I love that.” She pondered. “I thought about one for the kids too, maybe on my wrist but I don’t know what yet.”

“Well, l can speak to Jake.” Frank kissed her nose. “He’s fucking sweet at art, tell him what we want he’ll draw us a couple of designs and then we can go to the place I got my last one done and book in.” He paused. “So, where you gonna get the one for me?”

“Well, I errr think, I mean if-” She paused, looking at Frank as he waited for her answer and she realised that for a split second she’d been about to ask his permission. But as he simply looked at her, she licked her lips and smiled. She didn’t need to ask, she could just tell him. “I know exactly where I’m going to have it.”

“Show me.”

“So bossy.” She smirked, pushing on his shoulders and making him sit up. Biting her lip she lifted her cami top up a little, her hand pushing up her left breast and she traced the area underneath, just along her rib cage. “Only you will really see it then, well, other than when I’m in a bikini, I suppose.” She stopped talking as she spotted the familiar darkening in Frank’s eyes as he took her in, his eyes sliding up her frame to meet hers. She bit her lip, smiling as he crawled back over her, pushing her back onto the bed a little, her top still hitched up.

“You know,” his hands gently slid up her side, fingers tracing the spot she was talking about, “that area is supposedly quite sensitive.”

“Really?” She whispered, her eyes closing.

“Hmmhmmm.” He hummed, dropping his head, placing a soft kiss just there, and her breath hitched, before she emitted a soft little squeak as Frank’s lips were replaced by his teeth when he gave a soft nip. “Oh, yeah, definitely sensitive. You’re gonna need someone to hold your hand.”

“Luckily I know just the guy.” She sighed, his mouth now trailing a path across her body to her sternum.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll take Steve.”

“You really want your brother there when someone’s tattooing under your boob?” At that she stilled and looked down at him. He paused, his chin resting in between her breasts and he gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“With what? Your brother being-“

“No, idiot!” She slapped his head lightly and he gave an ow of protest. “I mean with me having it there? I mean, if it means the guy there’s gonna see-“

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then, yeah, I don’t give a shit.” He shrugged, his lips returning to her skin. “Now, can you shut up and let me give you an orgasm?”

“Just one?” Her voice was a breathy whisper as his lips traced their way up her neck and he gave a little growl, nipping at her jaw.

“Greedy bitch.” He mumbled, causing her to chuckle a little, before his lips met hers in a heated kiss. Her hands snaked into the back of his short hair, nails scratching his scalp a little as his tongue curled against hers in dominating swipes, a rumble in the back of his throat flowing into her mouth.

His hands curled around her hips, before they slid upwards and grasped at the top she was wearing which was bunched unevenly up around her chest. He pulled back and Fliss sat up a little to allow him to yank it off and he tossed it carelessly behind him, where it dropped somewhere onto the bedroom floor. His lips crashed back to hers with an urgency she met back movement for movement. Frank shifted, nudging her legs further apart with his knees, so he could settle in between them, his lips moving back to her jaw, down her neck, moving himself downwards, taking his time and lavishing affection all the way down her body. His hands curled round her knees as his nose skimmed below her bellybutton and he placed a soft kiss onto her tummy before he felt her tugging on his hair.

“Frankie, I want you.”

He peeked up at her, and arched a brow. “I thought you wanted more than one?”

“Changed my mind.”

“Fickle.” He muttered, as he sat up, pulling down her sleep shorts before he discarded his boxers, kicking them down his legs. He gently nipped at the inside of her thigh before he brushed his cheek and beard up her leg, smirking as he heard a tiny mewl from above. With a pace that was agonisingly slow he moved back upwards, his hands moving up the side of her body as he went, gently moving across, thumbs brushing over each of her nipples which were pebbled in anticipation. Fliss arched her back, inhaling sharply as her groin bumped against his, dragging a low grumble from his throat as she twitched underneath him, pressed up against where she needed him most. Taking her hands in his, his thumbs skated over her knuckles before he interlocked their fingers and pressed her hands down on the pillow next to her head.

“God, you’re beautiful." He mumbled leaning down and running his nose alongside hers before kissing her deeply. Fliss gave a little preen of delight at his praise, and he broke the kiss, his lips remaining on hers. “My perfect, Lissy.”

She responded by kissing him hard, a kiss which was broken when he slowly pushing inside her in a gentle, fluid moment, eliciting a moan from them both. He drew back a little and then thrust forward deeply, before he kissed her again, his hips finding a languid, rocking rhythm, his bottom lip nibbling on hers. Fliss rolled her body up taking him deeper, moans and gasps slipping freely into each other’s mouths as he slowly built up his rhythm, his fingers curling around hers tightly as he watched her, felt her shudder as he hit her spot again and again with every rut of his hips until she was writhing underneath him, begging him not to stop.

And he didn’t, not until he’d dragged two orgasms from her, and he’d almost managed a third when he knew he couldn’t fight off his own release any longer. With a whimper that was almost pathetic, he slowed down, his hand dropping between them to stroke at her sensitive nub, and with a hoarse sob she bucked violently as she came again, her walls tightening around him and with a choked cry of her name he let go, his release coating her walls and he throbbed inside of her as she pulsed around him. His elbows gave way and he pitched forward, his sweaty brow pressing into the crook of her neck as his chest heaved, both of them completely spent.

Fliss happily welcomed his weight on top of her as he caught his breath, both of them trembling in the afterglow. She flexed her fingers and he let go of her hands, and she slid her arms round him, fingers dancing up his spine. Frank gave a soft hum of contentment as he lazily raised his head, catching her mouth in a soft kiss before his nose bumped against hers.

He was in no rush to move, which suited Frank fine as he lay there, on top of her, slow kisses being traded before eventually he pulled back and she gave him a soft smile, which lit up her entire face.

“Was that enough for you?” He asked cheekily and she laughed, swatting at his back with her hand.

*****

The next week or so passed in a whirl of work and overseeing the construction at the yard. Frank was still mad busy, but he’d pushed his nagging feelings about his job to the back of his mind. He and Fliss had talked about it at length and he’d decided to wait until the wedding was done before he made a final decision. Whilst Fliss had told him she’d support him either way, he didn’t want to throw his career into turmoil whilst they had so much going on.

The yard expansion was progressing to schedule, despite a pretty nasty storm which had initially set them back a day or so, but Frank had to hand it to the guys Bill had recommended, they’d pulled the lost time back. And, to top it all off, he’d even managed to finish the final mechanical works to his boat, which meant now all he had to do was the cosmetic work. For that, he was happy to let Bill help, his future father-in-law very eager to lend a hand on Friday evenings, especially when the job came with a steady supply of beer.

It was win-win as far as Frank was concerned. Fliss and her mum would sit in the garden, drinking wine, dipping in and out of the pool whilst Mary was at Roberta’s, the four adults taking dinner together, which he always enjoyed, and it also meant he could rope Bill into his master plan for Fliss’ birthday. When he’d first told him his idea, Bill had grown a little emotional, admitting to Frank that seeing him care so much that he want to do something as thoughtful as that for his baby-girl was something he appreciated beyond belief. Frank also consulted Joanne, and between the three of them they now had a pretty watertight plan. Bill was lending Frank the money, for which Frank was grateful for as, whilst Joanne had helped him to the negotiating on the price for the animal, the transportation and associated veterinary fees were more expensive than the damned horse herself. Should the overall amount it was going to cost him go missing from their savings, Fliss was going to start asking questions and he wanted it to be a total surprise.

All in all, Frank was as settled and happy as he had felt in months. Life was good, and as the middle of June rolled round, the feeling in the Adler-Gallagher household was as relaxed and as happy as it had ever been.

“Awww you want a biscuit, Baby?” Fliss looked at Alex who was making grabby hands at the one she had in her hand. “Okay, here…”

She snapped the cookie into two and handed him a half. Alex looked at it for a second before he shoved it in his mouth, turning to look at Frank as he walked into the kitchen. The little boy raised his hands making cooing noises before jamming his precious treat back into his mouth.

“Hey, you got a cookie, buddy?” Frank smiled as Alex made a little noise of delight at the taste, and Fliss cleared her throat.

“He has a biscuit.”

Frank looked at Fliss, rolling his eyes before he moved and picked up the packet, pointing to the label.

“They’re cookies, Fliss.”

Fliss groaned. “Cookies are a specific type of biscuit. What he has there is not a cookie!”

“Look, Lissy, you’re gonna confuse the boy.” Frank looked at her. “Poor kid’ll be going to a restaurant and askin’ for a biscuit, expecting cookies, and then they bring him like biscuits and gravy and-“

“Don’t even get me started on those, Francis.” Fliss narrowed her eyes, pointing at him. “They’re not biscuits, they are scones.”

“The hell they are!”

“Oh piss off, Frank!”

Frank gave a loud laugh. “Hang on, are we actually arguing about this right now? Over what we call a certain baked treat?”

Fliss bit into one of the offending items and smirked. “Get it right and we won’t be.”

“You are such a fucking brat at times!” Frank shook his head as Fliss grinned and shrugged.

“So?”

“Just stating a fact, Sweetheart.”

“So am I. They’re biscuits”

“Oh for the love of-look,” Frank once again nudged the packet on the island, “they’re cookies and nothing you say or do is gonna make me call them anything else!”

“Nothing?” Fliss raised her eyebrows.

“Nope.” Frank folded his arms.

“Hmmm.” Fliss took a step towards him, her hands wrapping round his arms, pulling them away from his chest before her palms flattened on his pecs, smoothing up to his shoulders. “Call them biscuits, Sailor, and I’ll go down on you so fast you can’t even remember your own name.”

“They’re biscuits.” Frank replied immediately, the second she played that card, he didn’t give a shit what the hell they were called.

Fliss laughed, her hands sliding up round his neck. “Like I said, brains are in your dick.”

“Yeah, and now my dick’s gonna be in your mouth, Cowgirl.” Frank shot back, causing Fliss to snort. “Better get to it, I need to go pick Mary up in ten.”

“Hmmm, yeah, I didn’t specify when.” Fliss patted his chest and stepped back as Frank blinked, before he shot her a playful glare.

“You fight dirty.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss tossed her hair over her shoulder as she moved back to the kitchen to move their used breakfast dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. “You should know this by now.”

“So, you basically expect me to drive down to St Pete’s now with a semi hard-on?”

Fliss looked at him. “It’s your own fault?”

“How is it my fault?” Frank laughed, incredulously.

“If you’d have just agreed I was right in the first place, then you wouldn’t have a problem.”

Frank blinked before he shook his head, turning to Alex. “Your momma’s logic blows my mind, Bean.”

“That’s the only thing that’s getting blown, Fliss quipped and at that Frank let out a loud laugh, “for now.”

She shot him another look over her shoulder and Frank groaned, knowing full well that if he didn’t leave he was going to end up pounding her over the kitchen island. And, as tempting as that was, he had places to be.

“Come on, Son.” Frank unclipped Alex from the seat. “Let’s go get your sister.” He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the packet. “Here, have another unnamed, generic baked item for the trip.”

**** Chapter 24

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Two

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: you get an surprise visit on your day off

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1600 and something (kinda short but i’m already half way through writing part three)

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader does not know Peter is SpiderMan. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Masterlist   Part One

- - - - -

It had been a week since your meeting with Tony and since then the two of you had become quite good friends. Tony would make sure he came to the desk everyday or found you at lunch with Peter to catch up with you both.  

Today was your first day off in a while and it was much needed. You’d spent the day in your loungewear, doing some painting and listening to old 80’s rock music. In the evening you decided to order pizza, and do some baking while you wait for it to be delivered. You were just getting the ingredients ready when someone knocked at the door. ‘Pizza is early’ you thought as you put down the flour and headed to answer the door. 

“Wow that was quick- oh” you said opening the door surprised to see Tony on the other side. 

“Sorry were you expecting someone?” He asked.

“No no, just thought you were the pizza guy” you laugh awkwardly. 

“No pizza here I’m afraid. Just me. Wanted to check in, see if you’re okay? Didn’t see you in work today”

“It’s was my day off. I’m back in tomorrow”

“Ah right. Good. Well, that’s great then” he turns and goes to leave. 

“Would you like to come in for a drink, and maybe some pizza? Seeing as you came all this way.” You ask, surprising yourself with your sudden confidence. 

“I don't want to intrude..”

“you wouldn’t be. Ive been on my own all day, it would actually be nice to have some company.”

“Thanks” he smiles and walks past you. You shut the door, silently cursing yourself as you realise that your boss, THE Tony Stark, has now seen you in your paint stained loungewear. You follow him into the open plan kitchen/living room of your apartment and wish you’d cleaned up first. Your paints, brushes and sketchbook still all over the coffee table from earlier and the kitchen messy with baking stuff. 

“Sorry about the mess” you apologise, fiddling with the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into this morning, attempting to tidy it up a bit. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not that bad”

You raise your eyebrow at him.

“no really, I’ve seen rooms in much worse states than this after some of the parties I used to have back in the day”

You both laugh and Tony walks over to look at one of the paintings hanging on your wall “this is nice” he says pointing at it and you walk over to stand next to him. The painting is of a beach with the sun setting over the ocean, the orange glow reflecting off the waves and ripples in the water. 

“its the beach I used to visit every summer when I was a kid. Some of my favourite memories happened there” you stare at the painting daydreaming about the past. Picnics with your parents, playing fetch with your childhood dog, swimming on really hot days. Tony watches you out the corner of his eye, smiling when he notices the content smile that has appeared on your face. When you suddenly take a breath and snap back into the present he turns his attention back to the painting. 

“this is actually one of the first paintings I ever did-“

“you painted this?” Tony interrupts, turning to look at you and you give him a shy nod. “wow, you have a real talent. When you said before that ‘painting didn’t pay the bills’, I presumed that just meant you weren’t very good”

You burst out laughing his blunt honestly which takes Tony by surprise. 

“no, no what I meant was, the art world is a hard one to get into as an unknown artist. I couldn’t risk waiting around for that big break.”

Tony nods, looking at you thoughtfully.

“can I see some more of your work?” He asks.

“yeah sure, I’ve got some stuff in a folder in my room” you say as you run off toward your bedroom. When you come back out carrying the folder of paintings you notice Tony sitting on the sofa looking through the sketchbook you’d left on your coffee table. 

“these are really good y/n, really I mean that.” He says, turning the pages and you take a seat next to him “you’ll have to paint something for me to hang in my office, that place needs brightening up a bit-“ he stops when he reaches a pencil sketch of Steve Rogers and you feel your whole body cringe. “this guy? really, you drew this guy?”

“what, I, uh..” You stutter “..he’s got a good jaw line. It’s very satisfying to draw” you shrink down into the sofa wishing it would swallow you whole, then theres a knock at the door.

“ah that will be the real pizza guy” you say jumping up to walk to the door but Tony stands in your way.

“no let me get it. You get us some drinks. I’ve been here a full five minutes and you’ve still not got me one” he winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

As you get glasses out the cupboard and put them on the counter you notice Tony is acting suspiciously. He walks slowly and carefully toward the door, and takes a long look through the peephole before finally opening the door. You presume he’s just always on high alert because of who he is. Being a high profile business man and one of the best known superheroes must mean he’s used to having dangerous people lurking around every corner. 

After pouring two drinks you move over to the sofa and place the glasses down on the coffee table and hiding your sketchbook under the sofa. Tony appears with the pizza and you quickly move your paints off the table to make space for him to put the box down. 

“thanks for grabbing the pizza, you’ve saved me the embarrassment of anyone else seeing the state of me right now” you say gesturing to your clothes, as he takes a seat next to you and you hand him his drink.

He looks you up and down, shrugs and says “I’ve seen worse” and winks at you. He holds his glass up for you to toast and you hold your glass up too.

“to you, and your weird fascination with Captain America’s chin” he teases you and you shake your head at him.

“I am not toasting to that” you laugh

- - - - -    

An hour later you’d both got through the whole pizza and almost a whole bottle of wine, talking and laughing the whole time as Tony told you about some of the things he used to get up to pre Iron Man. You get up to carry the empty pizza box over to the bin in your kitchen and refill both your glasses. 

“hey what’s for dessert” Tony shouts over to you.

“well I was just about to start making brownies before you arrived”

“I was only kidding about dessert but actually I would kinda love some brownies right now” Tony says, getting up and walking over to join you in the kitchen.

“well I guess we could bake some?” you say half joking but Tony grabs your apron off the hook on the wall and ties it around his waist which makes you laugh.

“what are you laughing at, I'm ready to learn”

“wait, you’ve never made brownies before? Not even as a kid?” You ask in disbelief and Tony shakes his head.

“my family weren’t really into that sort of thing” he shrugged. 

“well then Mr Stark, I am about to change your life” you say, handing him a wooden spoon and he smiles at you. 

Tony mixed together the melted chocolate and butter with the eggs and sugar while you measure out the flour into a bowl. You handed him the flour to add into the mixture but as he poured it in he dropped some of the flour onto the arm of his suit and you laughed covering your mouth with your hand. 

“oh you think thats funny do you?” He says and he takes a hand a handful of flour and chucks it at you, laughing. You gasp and wipe some of the flour off yourself before grabbing a handful and throwing it back at him. He grabs your hand mid air and pulls you slightly but you trip over your own feet and stumble into him. He catches you and the laughter dies down as you both look into each others eyes, faces dangerously close to each other. His eyes flicker down to your lips and he moves in slightly. But then he stops, and lets you go. Clearing his throat and taking a step back. You take a deep breath and brush some flour off yourself. 

“well, uh, this was fun” he says, slightly awkward “but, I should probably be going now”

“yeah, yeah..” you agree walking him to the door “it’s getting late”

He stops at the door and turns around to smile at you.

“thanks for the pizza, and for the baking lesson”

“no problem” you smile “i’ll bring some of the brownies in to work tomorrow” 

“Good night y/n” he says walking out the door

“Good night” 

You close the door behind him and press your forehead against it, replaying what just happened in your head. Did you really just almost kiss your boss? And did he almost kiss you back? Did you overstep your boundaries even inviting him in tonight? Would things be awkward tomorrow? 

You let out a frustrated sigh and go back to the kitchen to finish baking and tidy up the mess from your flour fight. You know there’s no point thinking about it tonight but you also know that you won’t be able to think of anything else. 

Part Three

Taglist: @brownbuble​ 

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Eleven: Part Two

Previous Chapter HERE

Warning: Language, NSFW

Notes: Second part of Chapter Eleven. Thanks for stopping by!

Chapter Eleven: Part Two

Where once she had been curled up near to him, out cold from the effects of the day, now laid an empty space. Chris had been lying alone with just a pillow for comfort and way past the phone alarm he had forgotten to switch off. He knew she had planned to go back in to the hospital that morning but he had hoped she would at least stick around for coffee, or wake him up before creeping out.

They got back to his apartment swiftly enough the previous night, despite the weather. She had been still the whole way. At one point, he thought he caught her glancing at him when he stopped at a red light but she looked away almost as soon as he’d noticed. He poured them both a generous glass of whiskey and they drank it in his kitchen in silence. Something was on her mind. He was taking this time to suss her out, to gauge whether she was thinking the same things as he was but he was coming up short. He recalled Shanna saying thousands of times before that she could be a little difficult to read but he never had the luxury of experiencing it first-hand. He always figured they shared a similar wavelength or something. He felt he understood women enough to know what they wanted from him and the majority of the time he didn’t care enough or wasn’t sober enough to question anything. This was different and he couldn’t put his finger on why that was. It was so much easier when he didn’t have to think. 

“You feeling OK?” He finally spoke. He was hoping she would have made a move by now so he could be sure of what was running through her mind but alas. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” she shook her head, giving him an apologetic smile. “It’s just been a lot to take in.”

He leaned across his kitchen counter to close the space between them, twisting the glass containing what was left in his hand. “You wanna lie down?”

She knew where his bedroom was and she made herself comfortable under his covers while he cleaned up from his flight and the effects of the weather. By the time he entered the bedroom again, she’d drifted off to sleep. He climbed into bed as quietly as possible so as to avoid waking her but allowed himself to watch her for a little bit before rolling onto his back to put a small amount of space between them. He must have fallen asleep at some point soon after only to be stirred again a couple of hours later as she turned and moved towards him. She was more awake as that point, taking her turn to watch him. She didn’t seem to mind the kiss he eventually tempted across her lips or his hand reaching around her back to pull her closer. She sighed when he started moving his fingers delicately up and down her back as the kiss deepened. Still not a word was spoken, like they knew exactly what the other was thinking for the first time. He felt familiar and comfortable and he himself was reassured when she didn’t push him away.

After moments languishing in their kiss, he leaned up onto his forearm and looked down at her. He could barely make out her face in the dark except for waves of her soft hair splayed out across her pillow, the sweet coconut smell overpowering his senses. He could do so much from this position and there was so much he wanted to do in the dark as he started to feel his way around her body, tracing his fingers up to her shoulder, down her arm, across the soft skin of her tummy as he gradually moved her t-shirt up to rest below her breasts. He leaned down to kiss her again and he felt her relax a little more. Lying fully on her back and more open to him, he slowly grazed his fingertips down her stomach before moving them inside her panties. A little slower down and he could hear her breath hitch in anticipation, delicately fanning his face as he held his mouth just millimetres above hers, breathing the same breath. His fingertips felt like a feather on her skin, teasing slightly and just enough to make her skin tingle in all the best ways. It was so different from their previous experience together, calmer and more soothing but, knowing what he was capable of, what they were both capable of, practically electrifying. He had struggled to get the mental images of her out of his mind since that night as he relished feeling her again. Things could happen very quickly for them both if he wasn’t careful.

His middle finger continued to graze ever so gently over her lips, once and then again and then again, her wet heat enticing to his tough, before moving a little lower and almost, nearly, not quite pushing inside her.

“Wait.” She whispered, freezing herself from moving again. She quickly moved her hand atop his to stop him. “I’m sorry.”

He removed his hand from her underwear until it rested on her lower tummy. “It’s OK.”

She breathed. “Sorry, I just...”

“Hey, it’s OK. You don’t need to explain. I thought...I just thought you wanted to.”

“No, I did, I’m sorry. I just...” He leaned away from her as she moved to sit up in the bed, hand clasped to her mouth. She took another deep breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He rubbed a hand over his face as reality began to dawn on him. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to comfort her, reach out a little, but was wary of touching her again.

“Maybe you’re right.”

They laid awake not speaking for some time afterwards. She made motions to leave but he managed to convince her otherwise, reasoning there was no point leaving now if she had to get up soon and he figured, in the cold light of the morning, maybe things might make more sense and they could talk. She offered to move into a spare room but he wasn’t thrilled with that idea either. He wanted her close by. Except here he was now, along, confused, and mildly unsatisfied. He chastised himself for that last thought.

*

Head down and with a plain blue cap pulled low over his eyes, Chris successfully made his way through the hospital bay, just dodging the one local news crew still stationed outside. It wasn’t as busy as he was expecting given the events of yesterday but he was still wary of being recognised in this bright light, with nowhere to hide.

He hadn’t particularly figured out how he was going to locate her. Truth be told, he hadn’t even figured out what he was going to say once he had tracked her down. As soon as he plucked up the courage to find her again, he all but dived out of his apartment later that morning. All he could think about was just seeing her face again in the hope words would come easy to them both and they could work themselves out. Now, with a few doctors and patients milling around and a low hum of background noise, he realised he hadn’t properly thought this through. In a moment of dread, he made a move to turn and leave thinking better of himself until someone’s hand reached out to grab him on the shoulder.

“Hey, I thought it was you.” Audrey spoke in a quiet tone, understanding of his propensity against causing a fuss. Judging by his casual clothes and the dark circles underlining his eyes, he wasn’t there for some PR arrangement either. “You OK, hun?”

Chris breathed a discernibly sigh of relief when, at first, he recognised Audrey’s tone and then her friendly big brown eyes. “Yeh, I’m good. Thanks. Things seem a little quieter today, huh?” He shuffled a little clumsily on his feet, a move not unnoticed by her.

Audrey nodded indistinctly, not completely agreeing with him. He had no idea what it was like but she also wasn’t going to be the one to bore him with the details. “Yeh, it, um, it is what it is, y’know? Tragically, I’ve seen worse.” He was trying to act casual. “You here for something?”

“Actually, yeh, I was hoping to speak to Sarah but I guess she’s busy. I can just catch her later.” He tired to turn away only to be stopped once again.

“She’ll be here somewhere I’m sure. You know the diner over the way? It’s quiet. You wanna hide over there for 5 minutes? I’ll go grab her.” She insisted and for the first time in a long time, someone else was making the decisions and he was relieved.

it wasn’t long before Audrey found Sarah riffling through the equipment cupboard and muttering to herself in irritation. Naturally, their stocks had been depleted from the day before and also just as naturally, no one took it upon themselves to ring upstairs for new kit. It had been an unofficial part of Sarah’s job since she first joined the hospital and, after a while, people just got used to her taking the initiative. She’d be damned if she was going to do it again, though.

“Found you. You hero friend is across the road looking mighty fine as always if I may so myself. You never told me her was growing his beard out.” Audrey nudged her as she stood beside her pretending to need something from the trolley.

“Huh?” Sarah turned a little too sharply to see Audrey playfully affect innocence.

“God’s righteous man.” Audrey elbowed her again, a smirk growing across her face. Sarah couldn’t always discern the methods with which Audrey described Chris but the love hearts currently floating around her halo soon made things click.

“Oh. OK.” she closed another drawer. She couldn’t think of anything else to say and the silence was dragging on a little too long than was comfortable.

“Said he wanted to talk to you so I told him I’d send you across to Joe’s. You can take fifteen. You’ve not had a break yet.”

“Honestly, it’s OK. I’ll just catch up with him later. I’ve got some stuff to sort out here first.” She resigned herself to the fact that she’d be stock-checking again for the remainder of her shift but, faced with the alternative prospect of seeing Chris, it didn’t seem all too unattractive. “I doubt it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“I can sort that.” Audrey grabbed a spare notepad from her side, initiating a take-over. “He’s literally sat over there waiting for you. Just go over and bring me back a double espresso if you can. That coffee machine in the staffroom is on the blink again.”

She really should have known better that Audrey wasn’t going to drop it that easily. “What’s the big deal, Sarah? It must be something if he’s come out here in broad delight. He never visits, more’s the pity.” Audrey shrugged, something not connecting in the back of her mind. Was there an argument she didn’t know about? Maybe something was going on with Shanna or worse, Charlotte.

Sarah reluctantly handed her the pen she’s been holding and stepped over some flattened cardboard boxes currently separating her from the door and a clear escape route. Audrey just shook her head. 

“Hey,” Audrey called our. “Is everything OK? You’ve been acting a little weird lately.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She attempted to convince her in agreement. “I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll remember the coffee.”

*

He was sat in the furthest corner of the diner when she found him, nursing a black coffee that looked almost painfully strong. She felt more than a pang of guilt at herself for being the likely cause and she didn’t want to add to his concerns right now. He only looked up when she was close by the table and she felt a little better when he flashed her a grateful smile.

“Sorry. I know you’re busy. Audrey doesn’t seem to take no for an answer.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. She can be like that sometimes.” She tried to wave off his concerns as she sat down opposite him, hands eventually resting in her lap. “We probably need to talk anyway and I’ve been thinking. About us. It’s probably for the best if we try not to hang out together for a little while. I don’t wanna cause any issues but I’m not sure what to do about it. So. I know you like being at ours so I’ll just make myself scarce or something. I can work a little later or change shifts. It’s not problem, honestly. Obviously, things will be easier when you’re filming away or whatever but we can figure it out as we go.”

He looked at her, eyes still low under the brim of his cap. He couldn’t quite believe what she’d said and she could barely read the expression on his face. He didn’t blink, nothing. She naively believed if she just laid it all out in one breath it would be like ripping off a band aid, he’d nod in agreement, then they’d each go on their merry way.

“In the time since you left this morning, this is what you’ve come up with?” he questioned, an element of accusation lacing his tone. “That you’re just gonna ignore me?”

“No, not ignore-”

“-it’s kinda what it sounds like to me. That you’ve made your mind up and not bothered consulting me about it. You’ve not cared to see how I might feel.”

“God, no, that’s not it at all. I just thought it might be for the best.” she reasoned.

“The best for you, you mean.” He tilted his head to the side. She recognised this move from interviews where he became visibly frustrated with questions he had been expected to answer and she didn’t like being on the receiving end of it.

“Chris, I don’t know what else to suggest here.” She held her hands up in defence. “I’m just trying to keep everyone happy and I thought this would be the safest option but clearly I was wrong. I’m sorry if you think I’m deflecting or something.”

He wasn’t listening. “You seem to think these things only concern you. You forget other people are involved.”

“What?”

“I mean, you certainly have form for it.” He pressed, needling her a little bit more.

“Like what?”

“Well, Charlotte for one.” He shifted in his seat while looking down at the cup in front of him. He’d made little effort to drink it since it arrived but he found the smell fairly comforting.

“Oh wow.” She leaned back against the bench rest, despondent. “Thanks for that.”

He might have felt a little remorseful at his glibness if he thought about it but nevertheless, he remained firm, straightening up in his seat. He wasn’t going to let her pretend things weren’t existing now. “It’s like sometimes, no one else gets a look in even when they might wanna help. You didn’t even give me a chance, Sarah. You just left.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Oh OK well we’re even now.” He responded, sardonically. He finally stopped toying with his coffee and leaned into his hands, his elbows on the table. This was not going how he had hoped and he felt more and more guilty as seconds passed as he noticed the strain etched across her soft features. “Look, I’m sorry, OK? I’m just not really used to this.”

“You think I am?”

“Of course not.” He shook his head. He needed to place the train back on the track if this was going to get any better. He could sense her distancing himself from him, looking like she could run away at any moment. “I’m not used to working this hard.”

She met his glance briefly, his attempt at lightening the mood failing to land. He took a risk and smiled at her but that didn’t seem to do much either. It had barely been ten hours since they’d kissed, dangerously close to straying even further from the relative safety net of their friendship. He slowly rubbed a hand over his face, smoothing out his beard as he moved, not taking his eyes from her. He nudged the cup towards her, wordlessly offering her a drink.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He spoke under his breath. “I’m not sure what I am doing here and I don’t know what to do about any of this but one thing I do know is that I’ve been thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t be. So...” he held his hands open on the table in a contrite offering. “...that’s where I am.”

He had fully expected her to get up and leave but she stayed put. She looked like she was trying hard not to look at him, her shoulders down, thoughts clearly crossing her mind. Maybe if he had been this upfront at the start, they could have avoided this dance around each other but that was by the by at this point. 

“I think you’re thinking about me, too.” He fixed her with a stare, half sincere and half wary of what her reaction would be. He knew she wasn’t the type to shout and scream but she was the type to ignore issues in the hope they would disappear on their own. This is where his confidence became a valuable asset and if this was going to work out, he would have to do it now. “Because you wouldn’t be talking to me about any of this if you weren’t.”

She considered this for a second. It pained her a little to admit he might be right. “Shit.” He reckoned he wasn’t supposed to hear that. “There’s nothing we can do about it, Chris. It’s not that I am denying it but there’s other people to consider. Shanna for one.”

“We’re not breaking any rules, Sarah. Things happen and maybe they happen for a reason. Right now, there’s something here I think we should explore. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know...”

“You do know, you’re just scared and that’s OK, too.” He tentatively reached his hand half way across the table hoping in vain she might reach back but she stayed still, hands back in her lap no doubt picking at her fingernails under the table like she did when she was anxious. “I think we need to cut ourselves some slack. There’s nothing wrong with finding a little comfort. Might even make ourselves feel better?”

Audrey had finally managed to find a quick window of opportunity for a break when she handed her order request to O’Brien. He at first looked baffled at how much kit they managed to breeze through in the 24 hours previous but Audrey merely shrugged. She was past the point of playing the bureaucracy game with glorified middle management. She grabbed her secret stash of cigarettes - the ones Michael didn’t know about - and headed outside to the ambulance bay. She bummed a lighter from Dan, a Paramedic on his break, and leaned her foot back against the brick wall. It was cold again but it was dry and worth it.

As she looked down the street rolling out either side of where she was stood, her eyes eventually landing on Sarah and Chris leaving the diner. It was unfair that he looked his good in a casual sweater and jeans that had seen better days. She had to admit that seeing him for a couple of minutes that day had so far been the highlight of an otherwise rough week. Indeed, she sometimes found herself envious of Sarah’s relationship with him and how she managed to not be affected by his colossal, other-worldly handsomeness. Lord know she couldn’t imagine being that strong. But as she saw the hug he gave her and the kiss he cautiously landed on her lips as they parted ways, maybe she didn’t have to wonder after all.

*

[kristoffsloveisntfragile]

Quarantine Love Story

Rating: T; Some swearing.

Word Count: 3,683

Pairing: Kristoff/Anna

Summary: Modern AU; Kristoff and Anna are roommates, and have been for 3 years. With them being stuck with each other in the same house for the past couple months, some things revealed themselves.

Notes: I started writing this in the beginning of quarantine, so some of the stuff in this may be a little outdated, but it still works I guess. I was worried that since it seemed like quarantine was going to end that this story wouldn’t work anymore, but you know, the world isn’t happening like that anymore, so we may be in quarantine for a while now. WEAR YOUR MASK AND WASH YOUR HANDS. ALSO BLACK LIVES STILL MATTER EVEN IF IT ISN’T TRENDING ANYMORE. DONATE, SIGN PETITION, SPEAK OUT. Thx, and enjoy the story :).

Day...Who knows anymore?

I write in my journal today wanting to write, but don’t really have anything to report. I think I’m keeping this journal in hopes someone finds this in the future and I become known as the modern Anne Frank. Seeming how we had similar experiences, stuck inside the same place, with the same people that I’m faced to see everyday. Every once in a while I see my sister, whether on facetime or she really wants to see me and comes over, and always gifts me with cadbury mini eggs...oof I’m even craving them now.

But besides that, I’ll go back to reality and wait until my roommate comes back with a bunch of groceries that were hopefully in stock. Until tomorrow, journal.

Anna set down her journal and pen and went back out to check if Kristoff came back from the store yet. When she saw that he wasn’t back, she grabbed a cup and poured the rest of her favorite juice in it. Since she couldn’t do much, she’s just been eating and drinking all of her snacks and drinks. She hoped he bought her more at the store.

When she heard his car pull up, she put her empty glass in the sink and ran outside to help him. She approached the back of the car, and saw that it was slowly opening, and also saw Kristoff getting out of the driver’s seat.

“Anything good still stocked?” She asked, then she truly saw how much stuff he got, and was genuinely shocked, “Wow,”

“Yep, the thing was the staff were restocking some products so I watched and waited a good 3-5 minutes after they were done to go for it. Probably took me a little longer than I wanted, but the outcome is great.”

Anna just started going in and taking some bags into the apartment, until she was stopped by his words, “Just don’t forget to wash your hands when you’re done,”

“Yeah, I will, don’t worry.” Anna kind of cut him off, and then continued back inside.

She couldn’t lie to herself, she was starting to get a little annoyed with Kristoff’s constant reminder to clean up after a day out.. She’s perfectly healthy, exercises on a sort-of daily basis; with them stuck inside her schedule has been off a little bit.

She just hoped she didn’t tick off Kristoff by cutting him off like that, she knows he’s just looking out for her, especially since they live together. Even before all of this, Kristoff was kind of a neat-freak, so she expected this to happen. I mean, after all, he did take her in when she really had nowhere else to go, since no place seemed right and she had just gone through a rough break up. Kristoff was a good friend and offered his place, for as long as she needed.

They brought in the rest of the bags and started unloading. She went into one bag, “Oh, yes! Thank you for getting the juice, I just drank the last of it.” Anna laughed, and then saw another bottle in the same bag, “Really? Vodka?”

Kristoff chuckled, “Hey, it was on sale, and we could all need some loosening up.” Kristoff smirked at Anna.

“I’m just surprised at the amount of people staying sober at this time.” Anna said.

After everything was put away, Anna went into the bathroom and washed her hands, as she promised, and hummed her favorite song. Not only to ensure she was washing for 20+ seconds, but she just liked to sing when she was doing mindless tasks. Kristoff went into the bathroom to retrieve something from the medicine cabinet, and admired her hummed voice. Once he was going around the apartment and doing his own things, he realized he was humming it too. He liked the song too, and couldn’t stop hearing it being sung in Anna’s voice. It was like entering heaven to him. He shook the thought out of his mind, and decided to really get his mind off of being cooped up in the apartment, so he went to the basement and worked out for a bit, enough to get some sweat out and his mind completely off of Anna.

~~~

A little while later, Anna had snuggled up on the couch as she usually does each night now, just starting the night with the 5th Harry Potter movie, Order of the Phoenix. Already comfortable with her blanket and her hot chocolate, Kristoff comes out of the bathroom from taking a shower after the exercise. He smiled when he saw Anna, so intently focused on the movie, but then he looked at the time.

“Starting the marathon rather late are we?” Kristoff passed by her to go to his room.

“Meh, I may only watch one tonight.” Anna said loud enough so Kristoff could hear her. He came back out with a cozy sweater on and sat on the other couch in the living room.

“That’s alright by me.” Kristoff got comfortable, and watched the movie with Anna.

The scene that was on was when Harry had detention with Professor Umbridge.

Harry stares into Dolores’ cold, dead eyes, trying to have a hint of sweetness. He wants to scream at her for what she had just done to his hand with the enchanted feather. But decided against it. Bad stuff has been happening already. “Nothing.”

“That’s right,” She whispers. “Cause you know, deep down...you deserve to be punished. Don’t you Mr.Potter?” She stares sinisterly at Harry.

Anna mumbles under her breath, “That bitch…” Kristoff laughs at her comment.

~~~

“You’re a really good teacher Harry.” Cho said, “I’ve never been able to stun anything before.” Cho looks up, a mistletoe starts forming above Harry and Cho’s head, she looks at Harry and whispers, “Mistletoe…”

Harry looks at Cho, “Probably full of nargles.” He says softly.

“What are nargles?”

“No idea.” Harry leans in to have his first kiss with Cho, alone in the Room of Requirement, sharing this moment together.

“You know, as a kid I didn’t like the idea of Cho and Harry getting together, but now they are kinda cute together…” Anna said, taking another sip of her hot chocolate that she made another cup of.

“Yeah, but then she totally rats them out about the Room of Requirement, and blows their chances by losing his trust.” Kristoff blatantly says.

“Uh, spoilers much?” Anna smirked.

“Oh come on, like you haven’t seen this whole series a thousand times.” Kristoff chuckled.

“Yeeeaaahhh but everytime I watch it likes I’m seeing it again for the first time.” Anna says.

Kristoff looks back and Harry Potter is explaining his first kiss to Herminoe and Ron, but his mind was still on the scene prior, how Harry had his first kiss and how happy he was to talk about it with his friends. Sure his friends (Herminoe) still found a way to see the hardships that Cho was going through, but Kristoff hoped whoever he’d end up with, his friends would be happy and only think of positives. 

He found that he was then looking at Anna. His subconscious knew that she was the one he was talking about, when he thought of who he would end up with.

‘Yeah, in your dreams Kristoff.’ His mind also thought. He shakes his head and gets up to get a drink and a snack.

He opened the cupboard where the alcohol is, and saw that it was already open. He didn’t realize Anna already got to it, since both times she made a cup of hot chocolate he wasn’t looking at her. But that still drove him to ask, “Did you already have some of the vodka?”

Anna looked over, then looked at her drink, and then took a sip, as if he just didn’t ask her a question.

He laughed, and made himself a vodka soda and got one of the snack pack puddings, an adult drink with a kid snack. Kristoff in a nutshell.

He returned to the movie and kinda kept an eye on Anna, seeing if he can tell if she was getting more drunk as the night went on.

~~~

“Do you want any help finding them?” Harry asked Luna, wanting to help find her stuff that people took. Luna smiles and shakes her head, she would be fine on her own.

Her expression falls as she says, “I’m sorry about your Godfather Harry…” She reaches out her hand and takes Harry’s. He is shocked and looks at the contact between them, and looks back up to meet Luna’s eyes. They let go of each other.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help looking?” Harry asks again.

“That’s alright. Anyway, my mom always said, ‘the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end’.” Her gaze wanders, and she sees her shoes hung from the archway, and Harry follows her gaze. “If not always in the ways we expect... Think I’ll go have some pudding.” She turns and skips away toward the Dining Hall, and Harry looks back at the shoes. He takes the lessons he just learned to heart. He did a quick smirk to himself.

“oH my gOd pudding would be amazing right now!” Anna says a little too loudly and abruptly, startling Kristoff a little bit, but he laughs it off. 

“There’s still some snack packs, want me to go grab you one?”

“That, would be great thanksssssss” Anna leans off the side of the couch and smiles with her eyes closed at Kristoff, as he gets up and gets another pack for him and one for Anna.

The rest of the movie finishes and Anna is smiling hard as ever. Order of the Phoenix is one of her favorite movies because of the ending lesson, ‘something worth fighting for’. 

“Wooo! God I love that movie.” She looked at the time on her phone, “Ahh, couldn’t hurt to watch one more right?”

Kristoff huffed, “Whatever you want, princess.” He calls her that when he didn’t care what she did, just so long it wasn’t illegal.

She hopped up from the couch, trying to keep her balance, as the alcohol is definitely starting to settle into her. She took out Order of the Phoenix, and put in Half-Blood Prince and sat back down. Kristoff saw how cozy and comfortable Anna looked, with her blanket and big sweater. How he wished he could just snuggle up with her, but that would seem inappropriate, so he just went to his room and got one pillow and a small blanket, actually it was the one Anna gave to Kristoff last Christmas, the first one they really spent together.

Kristoff set up his stuff on the couch and Anna remarked, “Are you gonna sleep out here tonight or what?” She huffed a drunken laugh.

“Nah, if we’re gonna watch another movie I might as well be comfortable.” He looked over at her, and again she was slumped over the side, as she found some comfort in that. “Plus, what if you end up passing out and I gotta clean up everything?”

“I won’t pass out, I’m not that drunk.” Some seriousness poked through. “Besides, you’ll fall asleep before me, you always do when watching movies.”

“Not when I have my vodka soda.” He raised his glass to his lips and gave a cheeky look to her. “You know that. By that rate, at my second one, I won’t fall asleep until I hit my head on my actual bed.”

She mocked his words and started the movie.

~~~

Some point during the movie, in one of the quiet parts, Kristoff noticed that Anna shivered, and her eyes got droopy. 

“Anna, you good?”

“Yeah, just got chilly-y, all of a sudden.” 

“Are you sick or something? Are you sure you feel okay?” Kristoff jumped up and put his hand to her forehead.

She laughed and swiped his hand away. “Trust me, I’m fine. Is like the window open or something? They said it was going to get cold tonight.”

Kristoff looked around the living room and as it turns out, there was the window open, one of the bigger ones in the room, causing cold air to get in. “See? Told you.” Anna says.

“Sorry, I’ve just been getting more paranoid lately. You never know.” He gets up to shut the window.

“Yeah, but even I knew that the cold air was making me cold, not the virus that I could’ve contracted. Which I didn’t. I’m certain. I’m healthy and fine, and have barely been in contact with anything or anyone.”

“I know..It’s just...you never know…” He quietly said as he went back to his seat on the other couch.

“But I do! Don’t you trust my word?”

“Of course I trust you! It’s just I…” Kristoff didn’t want to say it. He was trying to just get past it. But Anna wouldn’t let up.

“What? You what?” Anna persisted.

“I just care about you too much okay?!” Kristoff blurted out and looked at Anna with wide eyes. But immediately took them back and sank into the couch, trying to glue his eyes to the TV. Hoping she would take it not in the way he meant it.

“You...care about me?” Anna was taken back a little.

“I mean. You’re my roommate. To a degree I have to care about your well being.” Kristoff tried to distract from the actual fact that Kristoff liked Anna. Like, really liked her.

“No...that’s not what you mean.” Anna said, almost in a whisper. 

“Look don’t read into it too much, I just meant…” Kristoff stopped when he looked at Anna to finally make eye contact with her, but that’s when he noticed a small smile started to creep up on her face.

Dammit… She knows...But, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

“Kristoff, I…” She started to say.

“Don’t...just…” Kristoff tried to keep brushing it off.

“I know what you mean, though.” Anna shifted on the couch to fully face him, setting down her mug.

Kristoff looked at her, for what felt like forever. There was just silence. 

“Kristoff...do you..” Anna started to say, but then was cut off by Kristoff.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it. We’re roommates, that’s all.” He got up and went to his room, shutting the door. Not too loudly, he wasn’t mad or anything, just embarrassed.

If at all he was ever going to admit his feelings for Anna, this isn’t the way he imagined it. He laid on his bed, with one pillow and blanket missing, and tried to just get past the moment. He was certain she wasn’t feeling the same things as he did. 

It took a couple minutes but Anna knocked on Kristoff’s door. He looked at the door, he decided not to say anything, and just laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. 

“Kristoff?..” Anna said quietly. “I know you’re still awake. I also know you can’t sleep with the lights on.” 

Kristoff sighed. “You already know it’s open too.” He shut his eyes tight to make sure it was all real.

He heard the door creak open and he looked to his right, and saw Anna slowly walk in. When the door was half open, she just stood there holding the doorknob. “Yeah, but that doesn’t always mean I’m invited in.” She said, looking a little hurt.

“Of course you’re invited in, you’re my roommate.” He sat up and waved his hand for her to come in more.

Anna went to the edge of the bed and sat on the very edge, to where it looked like she was going to fall off. 

“You’re making it seem like I’m mad at you.” Kristoff said.

“Well, are you?” Anna barely looked into his eyes.

“No of course not. How can I ever be mad at you?” Kristoff said. 

“Well…” Anna adjusted herself to sit better. “How long have you..?”

Kristoff sighed. “Well...first of all I never said anything about liking you.” Anna laughed a little at that. “And second...God, I don’t even remember anymore. It’s been a while. On and off.”

“Why? Why on and off?” 

“Because you always showed interest in other guys, not me. Or, if you did you did very well to hide it.” Kristoff managed to crack a smile. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” Anna mumbled and looked down at her hands, as she was nervously playing with them.

“There just never seemed like the right time. I mean hell, I took you in when you had nowhere else to go because of that jerk, um.. Lars?”

She scoffed, “Hans..”

“Whatever. I wanted to be there for you and comfort you, but at the same time, I was afraid I would fall hard way too soon, and you needed the space too, so...I don’t know what I’m even saying anymore.” Kristoff backed off from trying to explain his feelings.

“Wait, so, you’ve liked me, since I moved in? That was like, 3 years ago. Multiple relationships between us have come and gone, and...you still had interest in me this whole time?” Anna asked.

“Well...yeah.” Kristoff managed to get out.

Anna smiled, but didn’t know what else to say. So didn’t Kristoff, especially since she hasn’t admitted her feelings, he was just there going about his feelings, feeling like an idiot. So there was just silence between them.

Anna finally thought of something to say. “You know. Since I’ve been here so long with you, I’ve gotten comfortable with you. Like the first time I really had a nightmare, I stayed out in the living room, and then you came out and hugged me until I felt comfortable. After that, if I had a nightmare, I would just come in here and tell you that I need comfort. And you didn’t hesitate to do that. And there’s many more things that I was willing to do because I felt more closer and connected with you. Like tonight. I almost asked if you wanted to just sit on the same couch as I was on. But I felt that was taking it too far...and many more things too because we both had a relationship at one point or another. So I guess what I’m saying is...it’s back on for me. And it has been for a while.”

That last part got Kristoff’s attention. Did she just admit her feelings?

“You mean…?” Kristoff asked.

“I like you too Kristoff.” She finally said.

Kristoff couldn’t contain his smile. 

“Does that smile mean you feel the same way?” 

“Of course it does Anna. Like I said, I care about you. And like you predicted, I’m head over heels for you.” 

She quickly crawled over to him and gave him a hug. The weird thing was, is that there was no weird feeling. It all felt so right for them. Like they belonged together. 

They parted to look at each other. Kristoff did immediately feel bad for something though.

“Look, I’m sorry if I seemed very over protective of you. It’s just with everything going on…”

“I know. It’s okay. I get why, and sorry if I did seem annoyed on the outside, on the inside it felt heartwarming knowing that someone was concerned on that level. Like yeah Elsa asks if I’m okay, and I get a couple texts from other people, but...well I guess all those people can’t be too protective because they don’t live with me like you do, so a text is the next best thing to check up on someone-”

“Wow, I forgot how much you like to ramble-”

Already 2 minutes into this relationship and Anna smacks him playfully for his comment.

“Hey! I think it’s adorable, is what I was going to say.” Kristoff smiled again. So did Anna once she realized it was a compliment he was paying her.

They just sat in each other's arms for a bit, basking in the fact that they were a thing now. After 3 years of living together, and the past few months of being cooped up together, it finally happened. Anna finally piped up to say something.

“Well...now you know that I’m perfectly fine, do you mind if I..” Anna asked, almost scared to say the ending of her sentence.

“If you kiss me?” Kristoff said, finishing her sentence, and then gently laughed. “You know, I was thinking the same thing.” He looked deep into her eyes and leaned toward her. She accepted his lips as they pressed into hers. They both smiled into each other. 

She hummed her excitement as they parted. Anna’s eyes were closed as she smiled. Kristoff laughed again at her dopey-looking face. 

“What do you say we watch the rest of Harry Potter on the same couch?” Kristoff asked her.

“Okay, now you read my mind.” Anna managed to get out of Kristoff’s embrace, but grabbed his hand and led him to the living room. Anna was not afraid to get touchy and close to him, and neither was he. Kristoff grabbed Anna’s waist and slightly picked her up and he plopped on the couch with Anna landing on top of him. They got comfortable, with Anna’s big blanket covering them both, they picked up where they left off with the movie, and just enjoyed each other for the rest of the movie, until they eventually fell asleep.

Kristoff did wake up because of the fact that Anna was moving and mumbling as she was sleeping. It took him a second to wake up, then he picked her up and brought her to his room. He got her and himself comfortable, and went back to sleep with her in his arms.

~Morning After~

Day Whatever of Quarantine

Oh. My. God. Journal, you have no idea what I’m about to tell you. And it’s good. So good, my hand will be hurting after this entry...

[taexual]

HOLIC - 45 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluffy start with some angst for dessert

words: 4.6k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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“I now it’s Sunday and it’s a sad day for everyone everywhere but I also know you don’t have to work on Monday, so there’s no reason for you to sulk,” Jaebum insisted, knocking on the door of your bedroom the next day, “I don’t know what to do to get you out of your room, so I’ve ordered pizza. A few pizzas, actually. Too many to eat on my own, so, please come out so I wouldn’t have to waste food.”

You’d been holed up inside the entire day – and this certainly wasn’t the first time Jaebum tried to get you to come out, God bless him – politely refusing every offer he’d made through the closed door of your room, but you knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you had to go out and explain what was going on with you, eventually. Hiding was just temporary and, honestly, childish.

So, after another tirade of knocking from a very determined Jaebum, you walked out of your room, obviously surprising him as he jumped back as soon as the door opened.

“Shit, I didn’t think that’d work,” he gasped, smiling in spite of himself. It’d only been a day since he’s last seen you and already he was displaying a poor impulse control around you.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Can’t let that food go to waste.”

“Right, well, come on,” he took your hand – even though he only considered gentle coaxing to get you to come to the kitchen, now that he saw you, he was afraid you’d sneak back into your bedroom if he didn’t physically pull you out of it the next second – and dragged you towards the empty living room area. “I don’t know what happened but—”

“Jaebum—”

“No, don’t,” he stopped you. “I get it. Sharing our problems with each other is something we’ve been doing since we moved in together, even though it wasn’t always strictly voluntary. But sometimes, it takes time to deal with certain things, so I’m not going to push you to tell me what’s bothering you if you’re not done processing it yourself.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am done. I’m done with... with everything, really. These photography events? I’m not going to do them. I won’t—”

“Oh. Are you sure that’s the right choice?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Is that why you were—”

“No, I was trying to fade into oblivion because of how long it took me to get here. Because of how long it took me to make the right choice,” you swallowed. “Listen, I ran into Jackson last night and I have to tell you something. I—”

The doorbell rang, cutting you off at the very peak of your courage. You could almost physically feel the levels of your bravery recede as soon as Jaebum asked you to wait for “just a moment” and went to greet the delivery boy with your pizzas. You didn’t feel that hungry all of a sudden.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” Jaebum called out after the delivery boy left. The two cardboard boxes of pizza in his hands limited his ability to maneuver so you went over to help him lock the door. “How about we don’t talk about any of the philosophical right choices anymore, hmm? I’m afraid I’m losing you to, like, Kant. Or Freud. Or—”

You laughed at this, following him to the kitchen and picking up some plates from the cupboards while he unboxed the pizzas.

“No, I’m far from that level of thought,” you replied and then turned around to face him. “But okay. That’s fair. I won’t do that anymore.”

“Oh, don’t think it’s because I don’t want you to talk to me—”

“No, I understand. I’m not giving you any answers, anyway. You’re probably sick of me.”

“Only a little,” he teased and then laughed at your grimace. “You should go find a movie we can watch later. I’ll try to figure out why they didn’t include any of the sauces I’ve ordered.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning closer to check the boxes he’d opened. “There are no sauces?”

“No, they’re here,” he said, suddenly locating the three small containers of sauce, all stuffed into the corner of one pizza box. “It’s all good. Go. Oh—what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

You had already managed to take three steps in the direction of your room when you stopped, turning around. “Hmm?”

“About Jackson?” Jaebum clarified, ripping the cover of one of the cardboard boxes to make it easier to transport it to his room. “You were saying something and then the doorbell—”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” you felt your skin shiver. Your courage to confess the truth about everything left with the pizza delivery boy. “I—well, it’s nothing important, really. I just saw him the other day at, uh, one of the exhibitions I’ve gone to, so, that was a surprise.”

“Oh, well, I’ve already told you he’s been off doing work for his family,” he said. “Did you get to talk to him? You should have given him a kick in the ass for me, by the way – I’ve been trying to reach him non-stop the whole morning today and he hasn’t even bothered to read my texts.”

“No, I—” you started to say and then, for the briefest of moments—that you truly despised yourself for later—you felt relieved to hear him say that. The last time you saw Jackson, he wasn’t exactly accommodating to your wish to stall a bit more before you finally came clean to Jaebum. “I-I haven’t talked to him much. Just said hi, had a quick chat and that’s all.”

“Hm,” Jaebum only nodded, now more preoccupied with the logistics of the boxes he had to carry to his room. “He said he’s coming back tomorrow afternoon so I guess I’ll ambush him then.”

You chuckled at this – more out of politeness than anything else – and returned to your room to pick your laptop up. As always, your designated spot for watching movies and eating junk food was his bedroom, not yours, so you headed over there, all while attempting to come to terms with the fact that, by tomorrow afternoon, Jaebum had to learn about the details of your contract with Jiho’s gallery. It felt like Jackson was purposefully giving you this much time to gather all the necessary courage.

Jaebum joined you in the room another few moments later, which didn’t give you nearly enough time to set your mind straight, but, then again, he could have stayed back in the kitchen for the entire night and that still wouldn’t have been enough time for you to get yourself together.

“I had this frustrating dream last night,” Jaebum confessed as he plopped down on his bed. You leaned over to help him with the elaborate arrangement of the pizza, the sauces, the laptop, and his own body – his large bed felt so much smaller now. “I was stuck in some sort of a box – honestly, it felt like a casket to me – that kept moving and I—”

“Like an elevator?” you asked.

“No—well, yeah, I guess kind of like an elevator,” he said and then added, “of nightmares. Anyway, it kept moving in this spinning motion and every time the door opened, the box was upside down and above a huge precipice. So, if I wanted to get out of it, I had to very literally jump to my death. But if I stayed inside, I just wouldn’t stop spiraling until I eventually passed out from vertigo or something.”

“Huh,” you reached for a slice of pizza. “Maybe that’s a metaphor for what’s going on in your life right now? Like, you’re taking this big risk by quitting your secure job at the radio station to focus on singing instead. That is kind of like taking a leap out of a haphazard elevator.”

Jaebum scoffed. “So, my life was a haphazard elevator and now I’m about to die?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. And who’s to say you’d have died if you’d jumped out of that elevator?”

“Well, I don’t think there are many people who have survived a twenty-meter drop straight down a precipice,” he dead-panned, picking a slice of pizza up.

“I’m just saying,” you mumbled with your mouth full of food and then stopped to finish chewing. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in dreams.”

Dipping his slice into the sauce, he considered this and then sighed. “Maybe it is a metaphor. About fear.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, but I don’t mean anything specific. Just fear in general.”

You paused again – the chewing was suddenly part of the conversation – before asking, “what are you afraid of?”

“I’m… Well, lots of things,” he said and then proceeded to count on his fingers, “death. Deep water. Those vintage porcelain—”

That sounded too much like he was purposefully avoiding answering your question and you shook your head, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingers.

“Okay, I get that,” you stopped him. “I meant right now. Are you doing anything you’re afraid of? Aside from starting a whole new period of your life, I mean.”

Jaebum hesitated – obviously, the fear he was feeling right now wasn’t caused by any of the things he’d just mentioned – but covered it up by stuffing the remaining slice of pizza into his mouth. He took his sweet time chewing it.

“Y-yeah, but I’m not afraid of that new period,” he said finally, wiping the grease from his fingers onto his pants. You gave him a disapproving look – which he promptly ignored – as he tried to explain, “I’m just nervous about it, I guess. Excited, too. But, generally, I’m not afraid of that. There are just… these little things I’m afraid of.”

“Such as..?” you encouraged.

“I’m working on this song,” Jaebum said, avoiding your eyes as he reached for another slice.

You felt your skin break out in goosebumps – your body reacted before your mind could –  and it took you a second to understand why. Then, Jackson mentioning that Jaebum had been writing a song about you returned to your memory with an overwhelming flash. Although you didn’t know if Jaebum was talking about the same song right now, suddenly you forgot how to chew and swallowed the piece of pizza you’d bitten off whole.

You coughed, clearing your throat before you asked, “w-what kind of song?”

“It’s—it’s something I’ve been writing for a while,” he replied, completely forgetting the sauce as he took a bite of his pizza. At this point, his mind was already so far from this room that the food seemed tasteless to him anyway.

“And you’re afraid of it?” you asked since, obviously, it was hard for him to keep talking on his own.

“I… yeah,” he said. “Sort of. That sounds stupid, I get it, but—”

“It doesn’t,” you disagreed. “You’re creating something. It’s normal to be worried about it.”

“No, but I can live with worries,” he said, groaning as he put his half-eaten slice of pizza on an empty plate he’d brought. “I can’t explain what I mean. And—actually—maybe that’s exactly where the problem – or, well, the fear – lies in. I’m just… I’m scared I won’t be able to put it all into words and it won’t come out right. The song, I mean. And, sometimes, I’m scared that the song won’t come out at all. O-or, if it will, it won’t do very well.”

You squinted your eyes as you listened to him speak, trying to figure out if “the song” was a metaphor for something much deeper of if this particular song really meant so much to him. It could have also been both, of course.

“Well,” you said slowly, “do you want the song to come out?”

“I do. Of course, I do.”

“Then it will,” you said.

“Right. But what if it doesn’t do well?” he repeated himself.

“That’s not possible,” you declared. “You hate abstractions, so the song is obviously going to be about something that people can relate to with ease. People usually like things they don’t have to try hard to understand. They enjoy songs that hit close to home.”

“It’s… it’s a song about this sort of one-in-a-lifetime experience, though,” Jaebum admitted. “I’m not sure if there are many people that will actually be able to relate to it.”

“Well, even if they can’t relate, that doesn’t mean they won’t enjoy it,” you said, your hands freezing even though there was a fire blazing inside of you. “What is the song about?”

“Well… it’s a personal song,” Jaebum said. The less specific he was, the more inclined you were to believe that this was the same song Jackson had mentioned and, consequently, the less oxygen there seemed to be in the room. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possible lyrics of the song.

“Okay,” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking too obviously. “How much have you written? Can I hear it?”

Jaebum looked down, the abundance of thoughts in his mind – what a ridiculous contrast to the one, lonely thought that kept rotating around your mind like a loose tumbleweed in the wild wild west – making it difficult for him to find an answer to your question. He hadn’t lied to you when he said he was worried about the song not doing well – that part was true. And he also worried about it being misunderstood, that was true as well. But the thing that he was the most afraid of was the thing he couldn’t tell you about because it was hidden inside of said song.

He’d told you he focused on the most prominent emotion he was feeling when he wrote song lyrics and, this time, he tried to put all of his fear into this song. These fears – or, rather, just this one fear, in particular – had been bothering him for quite a while now: first, he had been afraid to get close to you, but after he had, he was suddenly afraid to fall in love with you. And now that he had, he was afraid to lose you.

His biggest fear was always you, and, simultaneously, it was also the absence of you. It would have surprised exactly no one to know that the song about the leading emotion he was feeling, was also a song about you.

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Jaebum said after what felt like forever but was, really, no more than a minute. It was still not enough time for him to find a proper way to express himself – which was something that you could relate to.

“What? Me, hearing it?” you asked, confused.

He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you said in a quiet voice, hating the uncertainty behind your words. “I love everything that you do. But I get it. You can play it to me when you’re ready.”

Even though Jaebum didn’t respond with anything – just looked at you – his eyes burned with all that he wanted you to know and, deep down, you felt like you understood him perfectly. Frankly, you were afraid of all the same things and, sometimes, finding the right words – however obvious they were – to express yourself and to cause that fear to dissipate, didn’t come easy. You knew that better than anyone as you procrastinated on the confession of truth – yet again – out of fear of disrupting the Sunday night bliss.

Finally, long after the pizza was finished and the movie – and the sequel that you couldn’t stop yourselves from watching – was completed, you and Jaebum started to stretch. Laying in one spot and barely breathing could have easily mummified a person. Jaebum yawned, stretching his hands above his head, and then turned to you.

“Can I tell you something?” he said, his eyes red and hazy from the intense staring at the computer screen.

“Of course,” you replied, his yawn contagious. “Anything.”

He sat up before continuing, the bones somewhere in his spine cracking uncomfortably.

“I thought…” he started to say and felt himself run into a brick wall inside of his mind. He’d tried to find the right way to say this all throughout the night – not wanting to scare you but also not wanting to seem like a pathetic loser, either – but actually opening his mouth to speak still wielded no good results. “No, you know what? Nevermind. It’s dumb.”

The longer he hesitated before speaking, the more your curiosity was taking the best of you.

“Hey, come on,” you encouraged. “Tell me.”

“No, it’s stupid, really, I just—”

“You got me all excited now! Tell me,” you insisted.

Figuring that this might happen, Jaebum sighed in defeat. “Fine. I… I thought you might have done something.”

Although you were not at all sure what he was hinting at, your heart still seemed to drop right into the pit of anxiety brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

“What?” you asked. “What do you mean? What have I done?”

He was shaking his head as soon as you started to speak, realizing now that he should have started with something else. Point-blank accusations rarely ever ended well and he felt like the one he had thrown at you was beyond stupid. Yet, for some reason, he still wanted to talk to you about this.

“No, it’s just—the way you’ve been acting, you know?” he tried to say, smiling for more effect. Although, the only effect his smile had was a great increase in your levels of anxiety. “Like, I know I said I don’t want you to philosophize about anything anymore but… all of this secrecy and these half-answers you’ve been giving me whenever I asked you about how your exhibition was going… I just thought you dropped it or something and were too afraid to tell me.”

You weren’t expecting him not to notice your behavior at all – he was far too perceptive for that – but, somehow, you’d naively hoped he wouldn’t bring it up.

“The exhibition?” you clarified, caught off guard. “N-no, I haven’t dropped it. That’s still… well, I hope it’s still happening.”

“Okay. I mean, don’t get offended or anything, I’m just being paranoid,” he said and then, with a nonchalant chuckle, added, “but I really thought you either dropped the exhibition, or… or you actually did have to sleep with someone to get it.”

Finally, you looked up from the hole that you’ve dug for yourself by omitting the truth from him, and realized how deep it was. You could barely see the surface anymore.

“W-where did you even—” you tried to ask but Jaebum jumped in to explain himself.

“It’s because of that conversation we had the other day,” he said. “When you asked me how far I was willing to go in order to—”

Suddenly panicking because, apparently, you’d let Jaebum come to some shocking conclusions—that weren’t all that far from the truth—without meaning to, you waved your hands in dismissal and tried to cut in.

“Oh, no, I was just—”

“Yeah, I told you it was stupid,” he spoke over you, his warm gaze trying to calm you down, albeit unsuccessfully. The raw ends of your nerves were flickering with anxious electricity. “I was just worried about you. I want to know what’s going on. You’ve been with me every step of the way, you know the names of everyone at my agency, basically. I want to be the same for you. But, forget it, I’m just being dumb.”

He stopped talking and, although no more than five seconds could have passed before you opened your mouth to speak, it felt like you could have counted to a million and back in the time that neither of you spoke. The silence was so thick with all the things you haven’t told him – and were, evidently, about to spill – that you could barely breathe, let alone find a way to soften the blow you were about to strike Jaebum with.

You started, your throat hurting with every word, “you’re not being dumb. There’s…. There actually is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a while ago.”

The electricity from your body seemed to transfer onto his as Jaebum’s face paled all of a sudden. “Oh, wow.”

“What?”

He grasped his chest over his shirt. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What?” you gasped, frowning. “W-why?”

“Carry on!” he encouraged abruptly. “You can’t just start a sentence like that a-and with this… this expression on your face. You look like you’re about to tell me you’ve found a basement with a hundred rotting bodies inside of it and you’ve been trying to find a way to bring them all back to life.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shook your head, far too nervous to acknowledge how ludicrous that statement sounded or even joke about how he obviously thought you were cosplaying as Frankenstein on the side. “It’s—it’s nothing serious, really. I’m blowing this way out of proportion and I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you, I just—”

“Out with it, please,” he pleaded. “My poor heart.”

You were absolutely driving him out of his mind – and body, by the looks of it; he looked like he was ready to astral project into three different dimensions at the same time – but you simply could not find the right words. In fact, you didn’t think such words even existed anymore – it was far too late to let Jaebum know about Jiho slowly and convince him that it wasn’t a big deal.

“Right, right, sorry,” you said and then cleared your throat. “Well, erm, see, the person who ended up contacting me—the, uh, the agent from the gallery we’ve been to? It’s… it’s actually someone I know.”

“Someone you know?” Jaebum frowned. He’d been expecting a huge revelation that was going to blow his mind and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with what you’ve told him. His nerves wouldn’t let you explain, however, as he burst into a tirade of confused questions, “what, like a professor from college or something? Are you saying this is some sort of photographer-version of insider trading? Do you think they only invited you to meet with them because they know you? Because, let me tell you right now, that’s not—”

“No, Jaebum,” you stopped him. “It’s Jiho.”

One impossibly loud heart beat later, Jaebum blinked his eyes and shut his mouth. “Hmm?”

“That agent,” you clarified, your voice fading. “T-the person responsible for my exhibition. It’s Jiho. I-I’ve been working with him.”

He stared at you and you swore you’ve never been more scared of anything in your life like you were scared—petrified, really—of the utterly blank look in his eyes. You usually struggled with reading his emotions but, at the very least, you knew there were emotions to look for. Right now you couldn’t find a single one.

“I didn’t tell you sooner because I was afraid of your reaction,” you chose to add after a yet another ridiculously long pause.

“Why?” Jaebum asked. There was a change to his voice and the room got unbearably chilly. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“I don’t know. I know you don’t like him and I just—I know it’s nothing, I was just nervous,” words spilled out of your mouth as you focused on how vulnerable his empty eyes made you feel. You had no guesses about what he was going to do or say next. “A-and I didn’t want to ruin your mood when everything with your career seemed to be going so well.”

“W-why would that ruin my mood?” he shrugged his shoulders. The nonchalant act he was putting on was so incredibly transparent, you could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue.

“Well, you know,” you said, all of the excuses you’ve come up with had escaped you. “It’s, uh… I had to go to these events with him. For publicity. Like I’ve told you.”

“Ah,” Jaebum nodded, slowly sitting up and taking his feet off the bed. “So, you’ve been fake-dating Jiho is what you’re saying.”

You’ve been blessed with never having to experience standing at gunpoint before. But sitting right here and telling Jaebum all that you should have told him days ago, felt an awful lot like talking in front of a loaded sniper. And now that he’d gotten up, you thought you could see his finger approach the trigger.

“I—” you started to say but Jaebum interrupted.

“And you didn’t tell me because you were afraid of my reaction,” he repeated, heading for the door.

You lowered your head as a half-nod. “Y-yes, I didn’t want—w-where are you going?”

He didn’t stop crossing the hallway as he called out in an eerily calm tone, “just to get a drink.”

“A drink? We have—Jaebum?” you leaped off the bed when he still didn’t stop and ran after him, making sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between you two. Not because he scared you when he was like this but because you felt like he didn’t want you that close right now. “Jaebum, please.”

His voice was like static when he spoke – no signs of what he was feeling whatsoever.

“Please what?” he said. “I’m getting water.”

He really was and, even though you could still remember watching him reach for the glasses on the top shelf of the cabinet the very first time you’ve had breakfast together, now you realized you’ve never seen the strained muscles of his back look so menacing.

“No, but I can see the way your muscles are clenched. You look like you want to punch… something,” you pointed out quietly.

“I do not,” he replied with his back turned to you as he turned the tap on, not bothering to switch it to cold water, and poured some into his glass. He took a sip but it looked like he couldn’t taste anything.

“Jaebum—”

“So, these events, then,” Jaebum turned around, putting the glass down so vehemently, you thought it was going to crack. “How many of them have you gone on with him as your date?”

Your teeth grazed against your tongue as you swallowed.

“He wasn’t my—n-not many, just a few, really,” you said, trying desperately to find something else to add to make this sound less awful. “But I’m not doing them anymore. I told him so. I gave him an ultimatum.”

“And Jackson,” Jaebum concluded, remembering what you’ve mentioned earlier. “You ran into him while you were out with Jiho, yeah?”

“I-I—”

He was already walking past you before you could reply, dropping his coldest sentence yet, “I have to go.”

You wanted to grab his hand and stop him but, sensing your intentions, he crossed his arms before he quickened his pace towards his coat, hanging in the hallway.

“Go?” you asked, almost running after him. “Go where? It’s—”

“I have to go,” he repeated sternly, not wasting his time to even glance at you as he tossed his coat over his shoulders, not bothering with the sleeves.

“Jaebum—let me explain, it’s really not a big deal,” you pleaded, the hopeless tone in your voice doing nothing but making him reach for the handle of the door faster. “Jaebum, it’s—Jaebum!”

He slammed the door shut before the last syllable of his name could pass your lips. In the dreadful silence that he left in his wake, you realized that his smell, that had comforted you every day for months that you’ve lived here, and your heart, that had, really, been his all along, had left the apartment with him.

        chapter directory

[k-knightt-blog]

The Fight – Tom Hiddleston one-shot

Request: Tom and y/n fights, he gets overly angry at her and tells her to leave their apartment. He gets drunk and makes her upset. You can make up the rest, but please have them make up! 

Wordcount: 2500+

A/N: Sorry I’ve been MIA but balancing university and work (rent is crazy in south London I tell you) is proving hard indeed. Also, I don’t think Tom would ever act like this but you never know.

Your standing right in front of him now, your bottom lip quivers as you turn your eyes up to meet his. Tom’s eyes are blue, icy in their demeanour, they are almost glassy looking. Like he’s about to burst into tears, but you don’t think he will. Your heart is breaking, and he knows he’s the one breaking it. He doesn’t dare to speak, he waits for you, he shuffles his feet, he’s nervous. Since you just a few minutes ago had told him to keep quiet, or you would walk. You would walk out of his life, he knew you were serious. You study him for a second more, as your eyes gaze over his lips he opens them to speak, ”Please say something,” His voice is low, soft, urgent. You take a deep breath, tears are threatening to pour over, “I know It’s every soul for itself in this world. But I didn’t want to wake up without you,” A few tears escape your eyes, you almost feel embarrassed about the fact. You’re fast to wipe them away with the back of your hand, “It’s different now, I feel different now. God, I don’t even want to look at you,” You say, as you turn your eyes away from him again, focusing on the room behind him.

Three days ago you had returned home from your studio in south London. It was late, around 11pm and your phone was dead. You wanted nothing more than to feel the sweet relief of sleep. The underground had been stuffy and full of people who reeked of alcohol and fun times if that even had a smell. It was graduation for the university students and they were celebrating an end of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. It warmed your heart because it was only a few years ago you had graduated from university, and the feeling of being free was still fresh. Suddenly panic rose in you, if it’s graduation today it must mean that it’s 11th of June. You nearly curse out loud, blood started pumping in your ears. You had missed the dinner you and Tom were going to. It had been booked for months and it had escaped your mind completely. It was Tom’s sister’s birthday dinner, her birthday was a month since though. 

Tom is going to be angry with you. He never really got angry with you, but you know this would strike a nerve. It was a dinner with some of his friends, family and also some people that he didn’t really like. Mostly because they gave him grief about being successful and having money in excess. You had said time and time again that they were just jealous. All but two were overjoyed at his success. He knew that, of course. Tom is a smart man but he still didn’t want to face them alone, without you. It was sweet really, and you were a master of fusing the tension that arose in situations like this. His mum always credits you to be the one who saved Christmas that year Tom and you met. Tom never really understood why the two trouble makers needed to be invited to everything. But they were old friends of his father, and you can’t cancel out 40 years of friendship. That’s what his father said every time. You had missed the dinner, but Tom surely hadn’t gone alone? If it bothered him that much.

You walked fast when the train stopped, you ran ahead of all the drunken ex-students. The station isn’t far from the flat so you were there within five minutes. The door was unlocked, so you slowly walk in, nervousness fills you as you see Tom sitting in the settee. He’s dressed in a shirt, slacks, which indicated that he probably went to the dinner. Alone. He had a whisky in his hand, he didn’t look back at you when you closed the door. He was angry at you, but he couldn’t be that angry right? It’s only dinner, and you had taken Emma out for brunch on her actual birthday. Tom knew that because he was there. He had an omelette and refused to partake in the bottomless mimosa business you and Emma were in. 

”Tom, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot, I started this new painting and it’s, well I don’t want to sound cocky but it’s rather good,” You walked into the kitchen to empty your bag, which had a smoothie bottle and a lunch box in it, “And I forgot about the dinner. I’ll call Emma to say how sorry I am. I haven’t been this inspired in so long. My phone died, so if you tried to-“ He cut you off by standing up, his jaw was cleaned. You thought your charming monologue would cool him off, but you were sourly wrong. “I can’t believe you,” He shot at you, his voice laced with disgust. You grew confused now, why was he so angry, you’d expect him to be slightly annoyed. He still had his family by his side.

He walked past the kitchen island, to stand on the other side, his steps were unsteady. “Tom, I’m sorry you had to face Jillian and Frank alone but I honestly just forgot,” You took a few strides towards him and tried to give him a kiss. He stopped you, “Don’t,” His voice was harsh and it hit you like a ton of bricks. “Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, it couldn’t have been that bad? Wasn’t Benedict and Sophie there with darling Hal and Christopher? Your parents?” His stance was of the unapproachable sort, and yours was small, you felt like a child that has been told off.

He didn’t answer your question, “Stop saying sorry, you obviously had your priorities on everything, anything but me. I haven’t seen you all week,” Now that’s just not true, but you didn’t say that, because he needed to calm down first. He took a huge gulp from his glass, nearly downing all the amber liquid in it. “I don’t know what to say more than that I am sorry -and that the dinner just escaped my mind.” You tried and reach out to just touch him if that would comfort him but he moved his hand off the counter, “I would never skip on something we planned together on purpose, surely you must know that by now?” He was bleary-eyed, you hadn’t quite seen him like this before, drunk and angry.

You knew Tom like the back of your hand, and it must be something else that had happened if he’s drowning his sorrows in drink. “You did.” He says coldly as he reached for the cupboard where you keep the spirits, “Tom, I didn’t. I just forgot, it happens.” Your voice was low, tired of saying the same things over and over again. “You forgot about me, about my family, you left me with those-“ His brow furrowed, “Vultures.” He poured up his glass with whisky, more than half the glass, “That says a lot doesn’t it,” He drunk down more whisky that you have ever seen him do. You tried to reason with him, “Yes. I’m sorry, I was so focused on my own work today, you know I’ve been struggling.” You really had been, you had been so uninspired for months now, and that day something just clicked. He scoffed and that really hurt your feelings, “What is wrong with you? Did something else happen? I’ve never seen you act like this!” Your voice was loud, and your hands were on your hips. 

He didn’t answer, how childish. He looked like he was thinking, possibly what he was going to give you for an answer. Nothing escaped his mouth, “Tom?” You asked, wanting nothing more than a goddamn answer. His divine features harsh, merciless. “I thought you loved me, silly of me to believe. Hazardous thing.” What was he saying? You nearly wanted to laugh out loud at the ludicrous words that left his mouth. Instead, you let out a raspy breath, followed with, “Of course I love you, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be wearing this,” You wave your hand and attached engagement ring at him, “Now would I?” He looked at you, a look you had never seen before. He couldn’t quite keep your gaze, his eyes were nearly half shut.

You tried a different approach, “Darling, why don’t we go to bed, get some rest and talk about this in the morning?” You tried to grab his arm, to put your hand in his. He took a wonky step back, “I want you to leave,” You couldn’t quite believe what just left his mouth, you humoured him, “But I live here Tom, let’s just get to bed. You’re drunk, and in no way capable of talking about this as an adult,” You look at him, like a mother looking at a child who’s been naughty. That look disappeared quickly because he looked even angrier. “I’m not drunk,” He looked severe, his handsome appearance nearly gone. ”Come on, Tom, please just let’s go sleep. I’m tired, it’s late.” You walked past him and was headed to the bedroom when he spoke again. “They’re right about you, Jillian and Frank.” He looked at you, “They said a pretty young thing like you, well, she can only be after one thing,” You turned cold, all the colour disappeared in your face. ”Thomas, are you fucking aware of what you’re saying right now? You’re taking out your anger on me, I’m sorry your parents still tolerate those two, and that you get the short end of the stick, but don’t take it out on me. For fuck's sake.” Your swearing caught him off guard, you had never sounded so severe while you talked to him as you had done then. He must have said that to hurt you, for forgetting about your plans. Surely.

”Did I stutter? I want you to leave - Go!” He’s serious, and your breathing became ragged, tears pooled up in your eyes. For a moment you just watched him, but the silence broke when you let out a sob. “You’re kicking me out of our flat because I missed a dinner?” This is ridiculous. The tears kept coming, you always ended up crying while angry. He didn't flinch, “Have you lost it completely?” You asked him after a second or two. He shook his head and headed towards the bedroom. He shut the door so hard the whole flat rattled. You decided to leave, naturally. That night you had slept at a friend’s house in Primrose. You didn’t call him and he didn’t call you, until the second day when he called you around thirty times.

You look out towards the living room that you and Tom have carefully and thoughtfully redecorated when you moved in. Tom has jokingly said that “It no longer feels like a bachelor pad,” in which you had replied, while his arm was swung over your shoulder, “Feels good to say that, doesn’t it?” And you had kissed him.

Now it hurts to look past him, into the room, but it hurt more to look at Tom, so you opted for the emerald green and ivory scenery. “Y/n, don’t say that. Please, I’m sorry. I overreacted, you know I didn’t mean what I said,” You cross your arms over your chest, what a generic response. Come on, Tom, you’re an actor. Lie better. From the corner of your eye, you see him shift, you see him walk over to you. You look at him, daggers in your eyes, and he stops in his tracks, he’s close to you now and you can smell his cologne, you can also smell musk from him. It was clear he hasn’t showered since you left your shared flat three days earlier. His hair is greasy and untamed.

He tries to caress your arm but you move away, stating your anger at his behaviour the other day. “Y/n, I’m an idiot. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was inebriated. I was upset with my parents, with Frank and Gillian.” He sounds so desperate you nearly feel the urge to swing your arms around him and forgive him. But you remind yourself. They’re right about you, Jillian and Frank. They said a pretty young thing like you, well, she can only be after one thing. You try to stand tall, although Tom’s frame towers over you. “I’ll never forget how you looked at me. Like I had murdered your parents, worse even,” There are tears running down your face now, they can almost be mistaken for glitter. He speaks before you can help him recall all the nasty things he had said you that night, “My darling,” He’s desperate to touch you, “I was out of my mind to say those things. God, I can’t even believe I did!” He runs his hands through his dirty hair, his eyes are red. But so are yours. 

“You kicked me out. On the goddamn streets, Tom.” Tears fill his eyes, you know he’s terribly sorry. He looks like a shell of the man you fell in love with at 25. He beings to cry, and it is terrible to watch his heaving chest, his breath rattling in his lungs. ”I love you,�� It escapes his lips like a broken promise. He sits down heavily on one of your kitchen chairs, “I hate myself,” He covers his face for a second, trying to compose himself. You silently try to do the same, it’s horrible to see him like this. But he - a sob escapes your mouth this time, he had doubted your love for him. He had wanted you to leave. Perhaps forever? “I don’t know what came over me, I felt myself turn into a ferocious, ruthless being. I,” He looks up at you, “I understand if you never forgive me. I was unjust, cruel.” Without your brain realising you walk towards him, and you cradle his head, his cheek against your bosom. This action rips a sob from deep down in his chest. As a reflex, he folds his arms tight around you standing frame. Praying to whatever gods who would listen, that you wouldn’t leave him. “We’re going to be fine, but no more angry whisky drinking. Ever again, you hear me, Tom?” He nods his head, cried filled laugh follows. “I love you so much, Y/n. I will never make you doubt that again." He releases his tight grip only to look up into your beautiful eyes.

[elisaphoenix13]

Whipped Cream Remedy

Cassie was beginning to regret slipping out of the tower when she was feeling under the weather that morning. To be fair, her throat was a little bit sore and her nose a little stuffed up, but she figured she could tough out the last day of the week. Her dad was out of town for his company and Quill was still asleep when she left for school so it was easy to leave without raising suspicion. It was also a good thing Stephen was dimension hopping because Cassie was pretty sure he would have known even from upstairs that she wasn't feeling well.

Now she felt worse. Sore throat, stuffy nose, coughing, and a fever that was making her woozy. Her friends were actually starting to shoot her looks of concern, and by lunch time, they were almost begging her to go home.

"Cass...you look terrible. Go home."

She blinks. "There's just a couple more hours. I'll be fine."

"I'll text you our assignments. We don't have any tests today."

"...yeah. Okay."

Cassie pulls her phone out of her sweater and scrolls through her contacts until she gets to Quill's. She presses the call button and holds the phone up to her ear, and the cafeteria spins dangerously just as the celestial picks up. His concerned voice gets lost in the haze of her mind and she feels herself falling to the side. A scream breaks through when Cassie hits the floor, and she groans quietly before trying to sit back up.

"No baby girl. Don't move."

Cassie rubs her eyes and blinks through the haze with some confusion when she finds Quill kneeling over her. How did he get to her school so fast? She literally just called him, and only Stephen had the ability to get somewhere that fast. Cassie even looked around to see if the sorcerer was around, but it was just Quill and a group of students and concerned staff. The man asks some students about Cassie's belongings, and her friend hands over Cassie's backpack and phone. Quill shoulders her bag and pockets her phone before scooping up the teenager and carrying her out. Cassie didn't even care if people saw. She felt awful, and having Quill hold her helped just the smallest bit. She didn't have to worry about falling over again, and she could fall asleep if she wanted to.

Which she must have because she suddenly found herself back home and laying on the couch. A blanket was thrown over her and her pillow was actually Quill's thigh, who was watching tv at a low volume, and he looks down at her when she sits up.

"Hey...Bruce gave me some medicine for you to take but you gotta eat. Think you can handle that?"

Cassie blinks and turns her head to look at him suspiciously. "The stove isn't on fire is it?"

"Oh haha. No. Wanda cooked." Quill snarks.

Cassie giggles as Quill stands up and walks into the kitchen, and she lays back down as she listens to him throw whatever Wanda cooked into the microwave. It was the only thing he was allowed to use since he was otherwise a disaster in the kitchen. Or at least with the stove and the oven. He could chop things up pretty decently.

"What do you want to drink sunshine? Water? Juice? Gatorade? A little of everything?" Quill asks as he grabs a glass.

"Gatorade."

"Sure you don't want a little of everything?"

Cassie wrinkles her nose in disgust but doesn't answer. It only takes the god a couple more minutes to rejoin her in the living room, and he motioned for her to sit back up, handing her a bowl of soup when she does. He sits back in his spot with a low groan and shakes a can of whip cream before popping the top off and spraying some into his mouth. Cassie rolls her eyes as she eats her soup and watches tv, not at all surprised with Quill's idea of a snack. There were moments like these that she wondered who was really the adult in this family.

She liked cooking, and she didn't have to do it all the time since Scott cooked as well, or there was the occasional team dinner upstairs. Laundry though? Both Quill and Scott were disasters, so it was exclusively up to her to do it. She didn't mind though. Her dad ran a company when he wasn't being an Avenger, and Quill protected them. Took care of them.

He was taking care of her while she was sick after all.

"Want some?" Quill points the nozzle of the can toward Cassie and she holds up her finger.

"Hang on."

She puts her empty bowl on the coffee table, grabs the medicine that Quill set on it earlier, and throws the pills into her mouth before washing it down with some gatorade. After that she grabs a pillow from the end of the couch, throws it on Quill's lap, and lays down on it. The celestial snickers and sprays some whipped cream in her mouth, then into his as Cassie resituates her blanket over herself and turns her attention to the show on tv.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you do that thing with your hands?"

An empty hiss follows. "Why is it that things are gone faster when you share with your kids?" Quill wills his powers into his free hand and places it on Cassie's forehead, and she sighs at the cool touch.

"First of all, that's what sharing is. Second, you ate like ninety-five percent of it."

"This wasn't full when I grabbed it. Pretty sure your dad ate like half of it."

Quill chucks the empty can in the direction of the kitchen and the two spend the rest of the day quietly watching tv. Quill watched tv, Cassie dozed in and out of consciousness, and at the end of the day the god had to carry her up to bed. He left her medicine and Gatorade on her nightstand, went back downstairs to clean their mess, and then went to bed.

He was disturbed from his sleep in the middle of the night, waking when he heard the bedroom door open, and sits up with his powers flaring in his hands.

"Easy big guy. It's just me." Scott's says in the darkness and Quill dismisses his powers as the younger man turns on a lamp.

"Hey baby. You're home early."

"We got finished early so I decided to just come home."

Scott strips down to his boxers and barely slips under the blankets before Quill grabs him and pulls him the rest of the way, slotting him perfectly against his body. Scott had only been gone for a couple of days, but he understood what Scott meant when he said the bed felt too big and empty when Quill was gone. The bed on his ship felt empty when he was in space too.

"Cass passed out at school today."

Scott jolts up into a sitting position and looks at Quill. "What?!"

"It's fine. She's fine." The celestial pulls Scott back down and wraps a strong arm around him. "I picked her up...literally actually...brought her home and took care of her."

"Well the tower is still standing so-"

"Look you brat!" Quill rolls on top of Scott who unsuccessfully tries to push him off.

"I'm kidding! Get off you overgrown lummox!"

Quill grins. "I'm trying."

Scott sighs and drops his arms, and Quill kisses him gently before dropping next to him with a thump. He accepts the smaller body that scoots back into his arms and allows Scott to use his arm as a pillow.

"Thanks for taking care of Cassie." Scott mumbles.

"You don't need to thank me for that. Especially since I fed her whipped cream."

"Quill…"

"After soup. That Wanda made." Quill promises.

They fell asleep after that, and the next morning they found Cassie down in the living room, bundled up in blankets with a box of tissues and watching tv. Stephen to their (sort of) surprise was in the kitchen making her breakfast, and Scott joins him by sitting on top of the counter and crossing his legs. To their actual surprise, the sorcerer made the couple their own breakfast when he was finished with Cassie's, who was eating waffles and fruit, and Quill snags a piece of bacon.

"So did your Mama Bear senses tingle when you got home?" Scott asks as he steals his own piece of bacon.

"You are the second person to say that."

"Cassie?"

"Tony actually." Stephen looks down at the food in the pan. "I may have asked who was sick when I got back."

Quill laughs and sits at the counter. "You are so deep in the mom hole."

"So I've heard."

Stephen heads back upstairs once he finishes making their breakfast and making sure Cassie was okay, and Scott slips down into the chair next to Quill. They eat and clean up the kitchen, including Cassie's plate that the celestial had to retrieve from the living room since the girl had fallen asleep, and Quill hugs Scott from behind after setting the plate in the sink. He leans down to kiss the younger thief's neck, and instantly mumbles an apology when Scott shys away with a wince. Today was apparently a sensitive day, so Quill instead wills his powers into one of his hands again, and places the cool touch gently against the scars on his husband's neck.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

They stand in comfortable silence while Scott finishes washing the dishes, and Quill tends to the sensitive skin on the younger's neck. Scott turns in the god's hold and rests his head against his shoulder, sighing happily when the cool touch moves to the back of his neck. Whenever Scott had sensitive days, Quill would do this, and just hold him until he was feeling better.

Quill always took care of him.

"Ugh. I'm dying." Cassie says from the living room and Quill cackles.

"You're hanging out with the boys too much peanut." Scott says.

"Can I have more Gatorade?"

Quill releases Scott and grabs the requested drink from the fridge. "On it. Oh is that--" He drops a glass that he grabs from the cupboard. "Oh shit. My bad."

"Get out of the kitchen."

Scott sniggers as he grabs a towel and the celestial steps around the counter to head to the living room, knocking over the fruit bowl. Quill lunges forward to catch it, accidentally smacks his head on the counter, and falls onto his back groaning loudly. He holds up the fruit bowl victoriously, but then it slips out of his hand and shatters on the ground.

"I had it for like five seconds."

"Alright Spaceman...time to go sit down." Scott helps Quill to his feet and over to the couch, and Cassie sits up just long enough for him to sit before laying back down and using the god's lap as a pillow. "Don't break Cassie. Need ice?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"What's two plus two?" Scott asks.

"Ten." Quill answers immediately and Scott grins.

"Close enough."

[odinsonsobsessed]

Beautifully Complicated || Chapter 15: Moving On

A Tom Hiddleston x OFC Matchmaker AU series by @odinsonsobsessed and @mrshiddleston-uk

Kate Rees just wants some romance in her life, but she hasn’t had the most pleasant dating history. After yet another date gone wrong, she nearly gives up until her work colleague mentions a matchmaking website she’d seen an ad for. Little does she know, the mystery man she’s been matched with is handsome, rising star, Tom Hiddleston. And that’s when things get complicated.

Rated M (18+) || Word Count: 7.3k || Warnings: Swearing, NSFW

A/N: Look what miraculous thing happened this week! Another update! This chapter was another emotionally rough one to write, but it had to be done! I was made aware that the last chapter should have come with a tissue warning, so here it is! This chapter may require tissues, so please have some readily available during visual consumption. Enjoy! ;)

You can also find us on AO3:

@odinsonsobsessed - Mischievousbellerina

@mrshiddleston-uk - Crimson_peak

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

The sound of Bobby's distant bark from outside snapped Tom's blank stare at the door, pulling him out of his state of shock. He took a deep breath and let it out before making his way over to the back door to let his dog inside. He'd let him out just before Kate got there in preparation for their lunch date, which he assumed would take a while. How long had he left him outside for? 

The moment Tom opened the door, Bobby raced inside, sniffing around and lingering near the front door as he caught on to Kate's scent. He lifted his head to follow Tom's movement across the living room to plop onto the couch. As if sensing his owner's distress, Bobby trotted over to him and sat at his feet, looking up at him curiously. When Tom didn't acknowledge him like he always did with a smile and scoop him up, Bobby let out a low whine and jumped onto the couch next to him. He curled up next to his side and put his head on Tom's lap, laying there quietly while Tom continuously replayed his break up with Kate. This wasn’t part of the plan for today, this wasn’t supposed to happen. It had come so out of the blue… He thought he and Kate were happy, he thought they were in love. He didn’t know she‘d been thinking something completely different. He knew Charlotte was a touchy subject, but all the other stuff Kate had said about him never being around… he had no idea. Why hadn’t she told him it was all getting too much? She'd always assure him that she was fine, but… had he really made her suffer?

Tom should never have let her leave. He should have tried harder to make her stay, so they could talk and work it out. But he’d been so surprised when she’d told him that she was breaking up with him that he couldn’t think straight. It was like he’d gone into shock. Why had he let her go? His eyes darted around the room in search of his phone. He couldn’t see it anywhere.

“Where the fuck is it?” He growled, launching himself off the sofa, causing Bobby to bark in surprise and run off. He stormed towards the kitchen and straight away he caught sight of his phone lying on the counter. Snatching it up, he tapped at it impatiently, pausing only briefly to check his email notification - details of his flight to America in the next couple of days. Fuck, he was flying out of the country to look at apartments to rent short term while he was filming the movie. Right now he didn’t give a shit about flights, apartments or movies, his thoughts were only filled with Kate. His fingers moved quickly over the screen as he called up her number and let it ring. As he lifted the phone to his ear he realised his hands were shaking. He was a huge ball of nervous energy, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the call to connect. 

“Hi, this is Kate. I can’t take your call right now, so please leave a message!”

Tom cursed under his breath and ended the call quickly. He didn’t want to leave a message, he wanted to talk to her, ask her to reconsider. God, he’d beg if he had to. He waited another minute before pressing redial and started to pace the kitchen, praying that maybe Kate had just been out of range and that this time it would miraculously ring, rather than going straight to voicemail. But as Kate’s cheerful voicemail message cut in again, he groaned in frustration and hung up again. 

Maybe she just needed some time alone? It wasn’t unreasonable for her to have turned her phone off after what had just happened between them… perhaps he should respect that and leave her alone for a bit. 

Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair as he reasoned with himself.

Maybe if he gave her a couple of days to think about everything, she’d realize how much she missed him? What was that saying? If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours, and if they don’t, they never were… 

Tom shook his head at the thought, tears back and ready to fall.

This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the end. He just needed to give Kate a couple of days to get her head straight, and if she hadn’t called him by the time he arrived in LA, he would call her again. He just had to try and stop himself from going crazy until then.

The next couple of days were hell. He fought himself every step of the way not to pick up that phone and call Kate. But he promised himself to give her some time. That and he needed to sort through his own thoughts to be able to speak with her properly.

The night before he left for America, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. After settling on his side, his hand splayed across the empty side of the bed, the side where Kate slept. There was still a faint trace of her perfume on the pillow. He stroked softly over the sheets as he thought about how he loved waking up with her. The way she’d blink sleepily at him and immediately reach for him, nuzzling into his neck as her breath tickled his ear. His bed was so cold without her. He let out a shaky breath which caught in his throat as a tear trickled down his cheek and hit the pillow. He missed her so much his body actually hurt. 

Tom must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, his phone was ringing on the cabinet next to his bed. He groaned and rolled over, groping around with his eyes still closed until his hands closed around his phone. He squinted at the display and swiped the screen across, "Yeah.” He mumbled, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming through the cracks in his curtains. What time was it?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hiddleston. Just confirming I will be there to pick you up in an hour." His driver replied politely.

An hour? But he wasn’t going until three o'clock that afternoon … Tom turned his head to glance at the clock in confusion and his eyes widened as he bolted upright,  “Fuck." He cursed under his breath. It was nearly two o'clock. 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Hiddleston?”

“Yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. I’ll see you in an hour.” He said quickly and hung up, dropping his phone on the bed. He threw the covers back and swung his legs off the side, getting to his feet and hurriedly grabbing his suitcase from the cupboard. He had to pack, shower, drop Bobby at the dog sitters, and be back in an hour. Yet still in his panic to get himself sorted, all he could think about was Kate. When he got in the shower, her shower gel was on the shelf.  When he opened his cupboard to get out a clean sweater, one of Kate’s blouses was hanging there. When he went to get Bobby's lead to run him around to the sitters, Kate’s umbrella was standing by the front door. She was everywhere. 

The drive to the airport from Tom’s house didn’t take long thankfully, as surprisingly Tom wasn’t ready when his driver arrived. It was nearly a quarter to four when they left and Tom’s manager Luke spent the first ten minutes of the journey reprimanding him for his timekeeping. Tom was sure he wouldn’t have been so hard on him if he’d just told him why, but he wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he could bring himself to utter those words - 

Kate and I have split up. 

Instead, he just stared into his lap and nodded at the appropriate moments as Luke ran through his itinerary for when they landed in L.A.. They pulled up in front of the departures terminal at Heathrow and climbed out of the car, helping the driver with their luggage. As he stood on the pavement, Tom habitually patted his jeans pocket to check for his phone, and his blood ran cold. His pockets were empty. 

“My phone.” He stuttered.

“What’s that?” Luke replied, walking towards him after waving their driver off.

“My phone, it’s still at home. It’s on the bed where I left it when I woke up. Dammit! Get him back!!!” Tom gestured after his car which was now almost out of sight, heading towards the exit. He turned towards Luke with distress clear on his face. “Luke, get him back here! I need my phone!”

He could feel panic rising in his chest. He couldn’t go without his phone. What if Kate tried to call? Shit, he was meant to be calling her after he'd gotten situated at his hotel! He couldn’t leave without it. 

“Mate, we don’t have time! Come on!” Luke was pulling on his arm, practically dragging him onto the terminal.

Conscious of not drawing attention to himself, Tom tried to resist as he pulled back against Luke. “ I need my phone, I-"

“Tom." Luke interrupted him, fixing him with a stern glare. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but we’re already late! We do not have time to go back and get your phone, okay?”

Tom could see people glancing at them as they walked past, and it was only a matter of time before someone recognised him, and he really didn’t need any more shit to deal with today. He reluctantly started to follow Luke towards the terminal. As they were guided through the VIP check in, his manager sighed and shook his head as he caught Tom's deep frown. "Look, we're so close to missing this flight as it is and I really need you to work with me here. You can just use my phone when we arrive in L.A. if it's so important."

Tom didn’t know Kate’s number, not off by heart anyway. “Do you have Kate’s number?” He asked him, already knowing the answer. By now they were being guided along a corridor towards the plane which was already boarding.

“No. Is that what’s got you so antsy? Because you won’t be able to talk to Kate? Just send her an email, tell her you’ve forgotten your phone." Luke replied nonchalantly as they were shown to their seats and stowed their bags in the overhead compartments.

“You don’t understand, it’s not as simple as that. I need to talk to her. I…" 

Tom stopped and huffed irritatedly as he threw himself down into his seat as Luke sat down next to him and chuckled. “You really have got it bad, haven’t you?!”

Tom scowled and turned his head to glare out the window his head a mixture of frustration and anger. Luke didn’t know the half of it.

The moment Tom landed in L.A., he wanted to jump on the next plane back to London and see Kate. How could he have been so stupid? So careless? And why the fuck didn't he memorize Kate's number? He was an actor for God's sake, he was brilliant at remembering lines, so why not a simple phone number? Perhaps he thought he'd never need to, as it was easy to scroll through his phone and click on her name. He should have memorized it or wrote it down anyway and stuck it in his wallet, in case of an emergency. God he couldn't think straight when it came to that woman. However, if he didn't at least screw his head on straight while he was there, he would be miserable during his stay while filming if he didn't pay attention and pick the right apartment. Not that he was exceptionally picky, but he was going to be there for months. His stomach turned at the thought. He should be used to this by now, he'd done it plenty of times. But it was different this time. Kate was in the equation now. Or, she was. He wanted her to be.

Why did this have to happen now? Of all the times, it had to happen just before this damn movie. His time to fix this was narrow before things would get even more complicated. And here he was halfway across the world looking at bloody apartments. Tom was so close to snapping at Luke when they pulled up to the tenth complex. He wanted to tell him to just pick one for him and be done with it so that he could go home. He was tired, he was antsy and just fed up. 

He tried to turn his mood positive and pass the time on the plane ride back by thinking that he might come home to texts and voicemails about Kate making a mistake and wanting to talk. Maybe the last few days of a break gave her enough time to think it over and reconsider?

By the time Tom flew into Heathrow, made it back into town and picked Bobby up from the sitters, it was getting late and he was wiped from the travel and time change. There was no way it'd be a good idea to go and see Kate until he had gotten some sleep in an actual bed. When he returned home, he eagerly checked his bedroom for his phone, finding it on the bed where he'd left it and quickly plugged it in, as it was long dead after having been abandoned for a week. Once his phone had enough juice, he powered it on and waited for his notifications to come through. There were dozens - of course - but the more he scrolled through them, the more disappointed he had become until finally he'd gone through every message, email, and voicemail. That's when his heart sank. Nothing from Kate.

Why hadn't she called, or even texted? She was clearly devastated when she broke up with him, it was clear she cared for him, but he couldn't help but wonder what this meant… Was she moving on? 

He had to find out tomorrow. 

Tom had to make sure he was there for when Kate finished work. On his way to the museum, he stopped at a florist in to get her some flowers. He spent quite some time studying the various bouquets, wanting to pick something perfect. Should he go all out and pick the biggest arrangement they had or should he go for something a little more understated and subtle? After standing there pondering for what seemed like ages, he picked a small bouquet of roses, chamelias, lavender and eucalyptus.

The closer Tom got to the museum, the more nervous and anxious he got to see her again. How would she react to him showing up out of the blue? Would she like the flowers? Would she throw her arms around him and tell him that she missed him? Or would she ignore him and walk the other way? Thinking back, he probably should have called her first… but there was no backing out now. 

With the bouquet of flowers in hand and having just turned onto the street, he saw the museum come into view. Just another minute and he'd be there. Just one more corner and across the street. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he glanced at the bouquet and smiled. He knew roses were Kate’s favourite flower and she had a little window box of Lavender in her flat, so he was quietly confident the flowers would be perfect. As he rounded the corner opposite the museum, he stopped dead. 

There, waiting outside the exit, leaning casually against the wall was Zack. No. No, no, no, NO. He couldn’t talk to Kate while Zack was there! Tom tried to think quickly. Maybe he could duck around to the other side of the museum and try to catch Kate before Zack got to her? Suddenly out the corner of his eye he saw the door to the museum open, and Kate emerged with Roxy. 

Seeing her again was like a dagger straight through his heart. His stomach flipped as he watched the two women share a brief exchange before laughing. Kate gave Roxy a wave goodbye, and turned towards Zack. As she approached him, Zack pushed himself off the wall and smiled at her, opening his arms and hugging her for several moments. He frowned, trying to lip read what Zack was saying, but with his face half obscured by Kate’s hair it was impossible. 

Tom took a couple of small steps back as Kate and Zack started to walk away from him, Kate linking her arm through Zack's, both of them completely oblivious to the disappointed, broken man standing there watching them from the pavement opposite them. As they disappeared from sight, merging into the other crowds of people making their way home in the rush hour, Tom turned away and began to walk slowly back home, his head down and his shoulders slumped. 

Of course she was going to be spending time with Zack. Tom wasn’t his biggest fan but he was Kate’s best friend and obviously one of the first people she would have turned to when they broke up. Tom tried to ignore the thoughts of Kate and Zack spending their evenings together, curled up on her sofa eating takeaways and talking for hours, almost certainly about him. How much had Kate told him? What advice had Zack given her? Perhaps she was okay without him, perhaps she was already over him and enjoying being single again, spending time with her friends and go out and do whatever she wanted. The thought of Kate having forgotten about him already made Tom feel sick.

Arriving home, Tom wandered aimlessly towards his kitchen with the flowers still in his hand. He looked down at them, wondering what to do with them. He ended up just sticking them in a jug of water and leaving them on the counter while he busied himself making some dinner and seeing to Bobby, and definitely not thinking about Kate.

The next week was a blur of final meetings and arrangements before Tom left for LA to start filming. Yet still Tom’s thoughts were all consumed by Kate. He still hadn’t heard from her, and he’d been so ridiculously busy that he hadn’t even had a moment to himself to try and speak to her again. But he knew that he couldn’t leave without seeing her, without trying to make this right. By Thursday evening he finally had some time to himself and he knew exactly what he had to do. It was time for someone to make a move and possibly sort this out, or at least be able to put it past them.

He knew Kate would be at home that night, she never liked to go out too much during the week as her job was so busy that she preferred to spend weekday evenings just relaxing and unwinding. Checking the time as he pulled his jacket on, Tom was sure she would be home by now - it was nearly eight o'clock. The flowers from a week ago had become a brown, wilted mess and since then been thrown out, so he decided to stop by the supermarket on his way to Kate’s flat and pick up a bottle of wine instead. They could sit down, have a drink and talk this all through. They could make this right. Picking up his keys and his phone from the side, Tom hesitated - should he call her first? No, he was past the point of wanting to call her, he needed to see her. If he called first, would she just ignore his call or refuse to answer the door, knowing he'd just try to reach her? He wanted to catch her off guard, so he could gage her true reaction to seeing him. They’d be fine, it was all going to work out, he was sure of it. 

Tom walked quickly down the road towards Camden. It was a relatively short distance and he figured the walk would help him get things straight in his head and work through all the things he wanted to say. His only stop was at Tesco to get the wine. He took his time in choosing the right bottle - a nice Rioja, not too dry because Kate hated dry wine. She would screw her face up and shiver as she swallowed, and Tom had thought it was adorable and hilarious all at once. Clutching the bottle tightly and still smiling to himself as he remembered Kate’s dislike of dry wine, he made his way towards the till. Tom was paying very little attention to people around him and distracted by his thoughts, until he knocked into someone and nearly sent the wine smashing to the ground.

“Oh, I’m so sorry." He mumbled, regaining his grip on the bottle and looking up at the person he had pretty much head on collided with. As their eyes met, both their expressions turned from apologetic to something a little darker. They stared at each other for a moment before the other man spoke first.

“Hello Tom.” Zack said, his face straight and hint of disapproval in his voice.

“Zack… Hi.” Tom stuttered, taken aback at seeing him again. Real smooth, Tom.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, almost squaring up to each other, although Tom had a good few inches on Zack. The air was loaded, filled with things both men wanted to say to each other yet neither started to speak. Eventually Tom shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head.

“How, um… How are you?”

Zack observed him silently for a few more moments before he replied flatly, “I’m fine."

“And Kate?” The words were out of Tom’s mouth before he could stop himself. He inwardly cursed as he tried to read Zack's expression but he remained straight faced. 

“She’s fine, too. I’m actually just on my way back to her place now, I’ve just popped out to grab a few bits for dinner. I’ve been staying with her, you see.” He added smugly, with a small smile.

“Right.” Tom mumbled. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to think. Zack had completely thrown him. He could usually handle situations like this easily but right now he was at a loss for words and feeling irrationally intimidated by the guy. 

“I can only assume that’s where you were heading next, too." Zack said, glancing down at the bottle that Tom was gripping so hard, his knuckles were turning white.

“I… um…"

Zack took a step towards Tom, “Let me save you a trip, mate. She’s not interested. Don’t humiliate yourself by going round there and begging for her to take you back. You were too stupid to see what an amazing woman you had and now it’s too late. You let her go and she’s better off without you.”

Zack looked him up and down one more time and stepped back, bending over to pick up his basket and starting to walk away.

“But I didn’t want any of this! She broke up with me!” Tom blurted. 

Zack stopped and turned back to Tom. “She did. And she’s moved on. She doesn’t need you anymore."

“Are you…” Tom started as Zack walked away without looking back. Now he understood - Kate had moved on and he was pretty sure she’d moved on with Zack.

By the time Zack got back from the shop, Kate had decided that he needed to go home tonight. It was time for her to be brave and get on with her life without Tom. She reminded herself that this was her doing, so she had to deal with the consequences. That didn’t mean it hurt any less, or that it was going to be easy. But she couldn’t keep relying on Zack anymore. She’d nearly single handedly ruined their lifelong friendship earlier tonight and as soon as he walked back through the door she began apologizing again, even more so when she noticed how on edge he seemed to be as he busied himself preparing their food.

“Kate, honestly, it’s okay. I understand." He assured her as he emptied ingredients into the saucepan for their stir fry. Kate hovered nervously as he stared at the pan, seemingly avoiding eye contact with her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Zack sighed and finally looked at her, “I guess we’re both feeling a little weird after earlier, and then when I was at the shops I ran into…” He paused and glanced at the floor.

“Into who?” Kate pressed him to finish.

Looking back up at her, Zack shook his head, “Just this guy I know, but don’t really like. It was nothing. Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.” He reached out and patted her shoulder reassuringly “Go grab me some plates, this is just about ready."

Thinking nothing more of it, Kate laid some plates out on the table and opened a bottle of wine as Zack served their food and they sat down to eat. They chatted for a while about work and the series they’d just finished watching on Netflix and as they fell silent again, Kate knew she had to broach the subject of Zack going home.

“Hey, Zack? I was thinking earlier…”

Zack looked up and her and frowned, “Wow, did it hurt?” He smirked and Kate giggled as she tried to kick him under the table. 

“Stop it, I’m being serious!”

Zack put his knife and fork down and leaned back in his chair, picking up his glass and taking a sip, “Sorry, Sorry! Do go on. You were thinking…?”

“Maybe it’s time for me to be me again. I can’t keep you here with me forever in case I have a wobble. I think perhaps you should go home.”

Zack watched Kate intently before nodding slowly “Yeah, I mean, if you’re sure? I don’t mind saying here with you for as long as you want me to.”

Kate reached across the table and squeezed his forearm, “I know, and I really appreciate it and it’s been great having you here. But I think it’s time I try to get back to a normal life without you holding my hand the whole time."

Zack smiled and closed his hand over hers, “But just remember I’m always here to hold your hand if you need me to, okay? I’m only ever a phone call away.”

Kate felt tears stinging at her eyes as she smiled at her best friend. After everything she’d done earlier, he was still so understanding and supportive. He was her best friend.

“Thank you, Zack.”

They ate the rest of their dinner and then Kate helped Zack pack up the few of his bits that were scattered around her flat. He stayed for a little while longer while they finished off the bottle of wine and watched a couple of episodes of Friends, and by then it was quite late. They said their goodbyes and after agreeing to talk the next day as they usually did, Zack was gone and Kate was alone. She could do this. Life went on, with or without Tom.

For the next couple of weeks, life did indeed go on, and Kate started to believe she was getting through this. She started to smile more, laugh more. She realised she wasn’t thinking about Tom quite as much. He was still there, firmly in her mind and she still missed him like crazy, but it was bearable so she was taking that as a positive. 

When the text came, Kate was thirty seven pages deep in an article about lace preservation, her glasses propped on top of her head and her pen in her mouth as she chewed on it absentmindedly. When her phone bleeped she glanced at it disinterestedly, before going back to her article. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she looked back to her phone as her brain registered who the message was from. She made a noise which resembled a cross between a suffocating whale and a strangled cat, starting to flap her hands erratically as she stared at the screen. Opposite her, Roxy looked up in confusion,

“What the fuck? You okay there girl?”

“Tom!” Kate stuttered, “I’ve got a text from Tom!”

Suddenly taking more interest, Roxy bolted upright, “Shit! What does it say?”

Standing up so quickly that her chair tipped over backwards, Kate started pacing the small area around her desk “I don’t know!”

Roxy laughed at her, "Well, don't you think you ought to take a look?"

"Well yes, but…" Kate glanced at her phone again and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Do you want me to read it?” Roxy asked, getting up and walking around to Kate’s desk.

“Yes… no... Oh fuck, I don’t know!” Kate ran her hand through her hair as Roxy picked her chair up and guided her back down onto it. "It's-It's been over a month since I've heard from him! And-"

“Kate, breathe.” She picked up her phone and held it towards her, “Read the text."

Kate took a deep breath and gingerly took the phone from Roxy, who then perched on the edge of her desk with her arms folded, watching Kate. Her hands were shaking as she unlocked her phone and opened the message.

Hi Kate, I hope you’re well. I’ve found a few of your things at my house and was wondering if you needed them. I could drop them round tonight? Tom.

Kate turned her screen around and held it out to Roxy. She read the text and raised an eyebrow as she looked back at Kate, “So what’s your answer? Did you leave stuff at his house?”

Kate shrugged, “Probably. I think there’s a blouse and I think I left one of my umbrellas…? Maybe some shower gel and a toothbrush?”

Roxy nodded, waiting for Kate to go on. All Kate could do was stare at her phone and try to control her breathing. This was the first contact her and Tom had had since their breakup. 

“What do I say?” She squeaked, looking back to Roxy.

"Well, do you want your things back?"

"I mean… it would be nice to have them, yes."

"An even bigger question… Do you want to see him?"

Kate blew out a deep breath and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. After a moment she opened them again and looked at her friend, “I think I do want to see him.”

Roxy eyed her cautiously, “Do you want me to come back to yours with you so I can be there when he comes round?”

Kate shook her head, “It’s okay, Rox. I need to do this alone. Maybe we can talk. Maybe…” She paused and shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting my hopes up for nothing.” 

"Just meet with him and see what happens. He's going away to film for a while, right? Don't regret passing up an opportunity to see him before he leaves."

"You're right." Kate hit reply and quickly typed out a message.

Hi Tom. If you could drop them over tonight that would be great. I’ll be home at the usual time. Kate.

Tom’s response was almost instant.

No problem. See you later.

Kate didn’t get to page thirty eight of her article. She spent the rest of the afternoon unable to concentrate, her head filled with thoughts about that evening. Were her things just an excuse for Tom to see her? Was he going to tell her how much he missed her and beg her to reconsider? Again her head fought her heart as she desperately hoped he might ask her to work things out and then she reminded herself there was a reason she’d done all this in the first place. She was just starting to get over him, and this meeting could wreck everything. 

Despite all this, she found herself ducking out of work early and rushing home as quickly as she could so that she could get changed and touch up her hair and make up. She didn't want to regret refusing him, just as Roxy had said.

Kate sat impatiently on the sofa, fidgeting constantly and checking the time, wondering when he would arrive. When her bell finally rang, she practically sprinted to the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror and took several deep breaths to try and calm her nerves. Slowly, she opened the door and there he was. 

“Hi.” He gave her half a smile.

“Hi.” Kate replied, as she tried to focus on her breathing. He looked as incredible as ever, even in a simple navy sweater and dark jeans. She stepped back, opening the door wider and gesturing for him to come in. He moved forwards into the flat and Kate closed the door behind him, following him towards the living room where he was standing, looking a little uncomfortable. He turned as she walked towards him and held out a bag.

“I’ve been packing and getting ready to go to LA, that’s when I found your things.”

Kate took the bag from him, the tips of their fingers just brushing against each other, but still sending that familiar spark through Kate’s body. As she made eye contact with him, she was hit with a longing of being able to wake up to those beautiful blue eyes staring back at her. When his fingers would skim across her hip and light up her whole body. When a soft smile would stretch across his features and whisper that sexy little Good morning, Kate.

“I think that’s everything.” Tom added, pulling her from her thoughts. Oh God, she had been staring. She realized he wasn’t smiling. In fact his, expression seemed solemn and emotionless.

“Thanks.” Kate replied, cheeks tinted pink. As he plunged his hands into his pockets, he looked around the room uneasily. 

Come on Kate, say something! 

“So, when do you leave?”

“Friday, so just a couple of days away now."

“Exciting.” Kate added, although she didn’t mean it. It was selfish, but she didn't want him to go.  She didn't want him to go and get on with his life. She wanted him to miss her as much as she missed him and that he wanted to work things out.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.” Tom replied, yet he seemed not to think so either.

Kate watched him silently for a few minutes as his eyes darted around the room before settling on the floor. God, this was awkward. She’d never seen Tom like this before, even when they first met and they hardly knew each other. Was he just as nervous as her? She didn’t know what else to say or do. 

Should she bring up their relationship and the last time they saw each other? Perhaps they needed some alcohol to loosen them both up a bit. Tom didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave, yet at the same time he didn’t really look like he wanted to be there. Kate knew him well enough to be pretty certain there was something else he wanted to say though.

“Would you like a drink?” She asked.

Tom looked up from whatever he had been staring at so intently on her carpet and half smiled again. “No, thank you. I really can’t stay, but I needed to say something. Can we sit down for a moment?” He gestured towards the sofa and Kate nodded. Silently, they both moved towards it and Tom waited as Kate sat down before sitting on the edge of the sofa opposite her. 

Kate’s emotions started to build and get the better of her. Was he about to declare his undying love for her? Was that why he was being so weird, because he was nervous? Did he think she was going to reject him?

She watched expectantly as Tom picked at his thumbnail, like he didn’t know where to start. After a few moments he eventually spoke. “Listen, Kate, I…" He took a long pause, "I just wanted to say that there’s no hard feelings.”

Kate’s stomach dropped as she looked at him as he continued “It’s good that you’ve moved on, and I’m pleased for you. I only ever wanted you to be happy and I honestly hope that everything works out for you." Tom finally looked up at her, meeting her gaze. “I really do mean that from the bottom of my heart. You’re one of the sweetest, most caring people I’ve ever met and you deserve the world. I genuinely wish you nothing but the best. I guess some things just aren’t meant to be and you know, you have to accept that and move forwards, and we’re both doing that." He paused and shrugged, “So… yeah. I just wanted to say that.” 

“I…” Kate tried to talk but she couldn’t. Tears started to prick at her eyes as she realized that today hadn’t been about Tom wanting her back, it had been about Tom wanting closure. She couldn't break down again, not in front of him and especially not after the speech he’d just given her. His expression remained stoic as he sniffed and got to his feet. He looked towards the door, avoiding eye contact with her again. 

“I should probably get going. I have a lot to do before leaving.”

Kate knew if she tried to say anything she’d just break down, so instead she nodded and stood up, following him towards the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and looked back at her, and she wasn’t sure if there were tears in his eyes too. 

“Goodbye Kate." 

He opened the door and ducked out, closing it again behind him as Kate stood there speechless. God, she was so stupid. Why had she let herself believe that they were going to get back together? She thumped her fists on the door with a frustrated shout before turning around and leaning back against it, sliding to the floor as the tears started to spill down her cheeks. 

Kate couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this. After her meeting with Tom a couple of days ago, she felt like she’d taken two steps backwards in her efforts to get over him. In an attempt to cheer her up and take her mind off it, Roxy and Zack had decided to take her out for the evening. As she stood at the counter of the packed bar waiting to be served, she wished she’d never allowed them to talk her into it. Her dress was too tight, her heels were too high, and her make up was too heavy. She just wanted to go home and change into her tracksuit bottoms, pull her hair up into a messy ponytail and fall asleep on the sofa watching reruns of Friends. The only saving grace for the evening was the cheap alcohol, and even that wasn’t really raising any enthusiasm in her. But she would try and enjoy herself for the sake of her friends, after everything they’d done for her over the last few weeks, it was only fair. And while she just wasn't feeling it, she appreciated the gesture.

Finally making her way to the front of the queue, Kate ordered their drinks and fought her way back over to the table where Roxy and Zack were deep in conversation, giggling away together like a couple of school kids. For every one drink Kate had, that pair had had two, and they were well on their way to being pretty drunk. Kate was taking things much slower, not trusting herself to get too over emotional if she got drunk. The last thing she wanted to do was end up calling or texting Tom with some declaration of drunken unrequited love. 

As she squeezed into her seat, Roxy nudged her with a grin. “That guy over there has been watching you all night.” 

Kate looked in the direction of Roxy's inebriated pointing, and caught the eye of a dark haired man standing near the DJ. He smiled and winked at her, but Kate quickly looked away again.

“You should go talk to him!" Roxy encouraged.

“Too soon Rox, too soon.” Interrupted Zack, taking another sip of his beer. 

Roxy turned to him, frowning. “It’s just harmless fun! It’s not like she has to marry him or anything!”

Roxy turned back to Kate, waiting for her to say something. She shook her head and stared into her wine, “Zack’s right, Roxy. It’s too soon. I can’t…..” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She was not going to cry in the middle of this packed out bar. “I just don’t feel ready for that yet - any of that. Not even talking.”

“Let’s dance then!” Zack bellowed, spreading his arms wide. Kate rolled her eyes as Roxy cheered and stood up. Before she knew it she was being pulled to her feet. 

“Guys. Guys, wait!" She raised her voice a bit so she could be heard over the music as Zack tried to spin her around. "I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

Zack stopped and looked at her sadly, “But it’s only early!”

“Zack, it’s gone midnight. My feet are killing me and I’m pretty tired.” She looked between her two friends as they pouted at her like sulking children. “You two should stay here and enjoy yourselves."

"No, I'm walking you home." Zack made a movement for his jacket, but Kate put her hand on his forearm. 

"It's okay, Zack, really. Don't make Roxy party here by herself. You should stay and have fun."

After studying her for a moment, his shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Will you be okay walking home on your own?” Zack was so protective, always looking out for her.

Kate reached for him and gave him a hug, “I’ll be fine. I could do with the fresh air."

“Text me as soon as you’re home." Roxy butted in, shoving Zack to one side so she could hug Kate, too. A few minutes later after a few more reassurances that she would be ok, Kate was finally on her way home, walking barefoot with her shoes in her hand. 

Within ten minutes she was home, dropping her shoes by the front door and heading straight for her bedroom to peel off that damn dress and get into her comfy clothes. She took her contact lenses out and pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head and collapsed on the sofa with a satisfied moan. 

Reaching for her phone, she sent Roxy a text to say she was home safely, and then started to scroll half heartedly through the days news. Politics, crime, celebrity gossip, just the usual stuff. Kate kept scrolling until one story made her freeze. Before she could stop herself she’d clicked on the article and was staring at a photo of Tom. Her eyes skimmed over the caption underneath -

Upon arriving in LA, Tom Hiddleston looks tired and miserable from his long flight from London, but the moment he sees his costar, Charlotte Harper, he's all smiles.

Kate drew in a breath as she continued reading - the article went on to describe how Tom had looked glum as he few out of London that morning but was met by Charlotte at LAX where he was suddenly seeming to be in a good mood as they greeted each other affectionately. Kate looked at the photos, examining them closely. Tom was practically beaming as Charlotte approached him. The following photo of them hugging made Kate’s stomach turn. She threw her phone down on the sofa and bit her lip, fighting back yet more tears. Only two days ago, Tom had told her he’d moved on, and this was obviously what he meant. Tom had moved on with Charlotte.

@fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @nikkalia @manager-of-mischief @spidey-bites @dangertoozmanykids101 @xxloki81xx @furstinnajoelle @just-the-hiddles @wholelottatiffy @libbymouse @kitsuneharo12 @michelegurl @I-cant-remember-my-old-login @thathedonistgirl @vethrvolnir2 @fairlightswiftly @jessiejunebug @ihthr @devilbat @exbandragirl @joyofbebbanburg @sabine-leo @mandapanda8 @officiallyunofficialperson @wolfsmom1 @littlefrogstuff @writingmi @drakesfiance @scorpionchild81 @little-moonbeam--666 @canadianjelly @originalsoulcollector @gorgeous1974 @teylacarter91 @stubby-toe-589331 @kcd15 @sterwild

[lady-oceana9518]

Here For You (A Hazbin Hotel Fanfic)

A/N: Hey y’all, here’s another little story featuring my Hazbin OC, Morgana, the direwolf shifter. This fic features lots of fluffy times between Wolf!Morga and Vaggie. I haven’t been feeling the greatest emotionally speaking today, so I wrote this in an effort to comfort myself a little. I hope you guys enjoy it too. Let me know what you think of the story and/or my wolfy girl Morga😊

~~~~

Today...hadn’t been Morgana’s best day. She woke up that morning with a bone-deep tiredness that she couldn’t shake, even though she had a good night’s sleep the night before. She didn’t feel happy, or angry, or overwhelmingly sad...just, numb.

Charlie and Vaggie were out running errands around town with Razzle and Dazzle, which Morga knew because of a note that Vaggie had left on her bedside table earlier that morning. They should be back later that afternoon, she wrote. Angel was out entertaining one of his regular clients; Niffty was flitting around the hotel cleaning, as usual, like a manic hummingbird; Alastor was working in his office, awaiting his mate Charlie’s return; and Husk was tending the bar in the lobby (while successfully becoming more and more intoxicated himself as the day wore on). Morga had a rare day off from her teaching duties. She was too exhausted to want to do, well, just about anything, but she at least wanted to get out of her room at some point for a little change in scenery. She also didn’t particularly want to socialize with anyone.

The solution to her little dilemma seemed obvious. She would simply remain in her direwolf form for the rest of the day. After locking the door to her room behind her, Morga shifted effortlessly into her wolf form. She shook out her black-brown fur and stretched her wings, which were reminiscent of a snowy owl’s, then trotted down to the lobby.

She passed right by Husk’s bar, and of course didn’t go unnoticed by the surprisingly-observant bartender. “Hey wolfy, bout time you showed up!” Husk snickered, slurring his words a bit. Morga would normally have some kind of retort ready to go but was absolutely not in the mood for his, or anyone’s, teasing today. She growled at him, the sound a deep, menacing rumble emanating from her chest.

Husk jumped, more than a little surprised at the normally mild-mannered and mischievous wolf. “ ‘Ey, what the fuck was that for??” In response, Morga glared at him over her shoulder and bared her teeth, not even breaking stride as she continued on toward the fireplace.

As luck would have it, there was a roaring fire blazing merrily in the newly-refurbished grand fireplace. It was oh-so inviting and looked like the perfect place for a nap. Morga wasted no time in trotting over to the rug in front of the fireplace, circling a few times, and flopping onto her side. She yawned and allowed her heavy eyelids to flutter closed over her leaf-green eyes.

Some time later, which in reality turned out to be several hours later, Morga became aware of a few different voices conversing quietly nearby.

“I’m tellin’ ya, she’s got a stick up her ass about somethin’ today. Been all wolfed out the whole time too. Maybe wolfy’s finally going feral,” Husk grumbled, taking a swig from his ever-present bottle of booze.

Charlie hummed uncertainly, her worried gaze flickering over to Morga’s dozing form. “Morga doesn’t usually act that way...and I don’t think I’ve heard her growl at anyone other than Al before.” Vaggie couldn’t help but snicker at that. It was no secret that she still wasn’t the Radio Demon’s biggest fan. “Vags, maybe you should check on her? Since she definitely trusts you more than anyone else. I don’t want to startle her if she’s feeling a little more sensitive and skittish than usual.”

Vaggie smiled a little at her best friend’s words. She still wasn’t sure how she had become lucky enough to catch the eye of such an enchanting, wild woman like Morgana, but she was grateful for that each day. “Of course I will. You two go back to whatever you were doing; I’ve got this. I’ll take care of her.”

Husk grumbled something along the lines of “Careful she doesn’t rip your hand off,” before heading back to the bar, while Charlie nearly skipped away toward Alastor’s office, eager to spend time with her mate.

Vaggie slowly made her way over to Morga’s dozing form, beginning to speak softly to her lover as she did so. “Morga, hun? Are you feeling alright?”

Morga’s eyes slowly blinked open and she felt a growl instinctively begin to build in the back of her throat. When she saw her moth demon slowly approaching, though, she stopped immediately. She let out an apologetic whine and glanced off to the side, folding her ears back against her head.

Vaggie crouched down and knelt alongside her direwolf, gently running her fingers through the thick fur along Morga’s back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it,” Vaggie murmured. Morga rumbled her thanks and hesitantly laid her head in Vaggie’s lap, gazing up at her tiredly. Vaggie felt her heart twist at the sight. Her usually-serene, confident Morga looked so tired and hopeless. For a moment she didn’t know what to do. She just wanted to be there for her lover and comfort her in the same way that Morga so often comforted Vaggie.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel great today, mi cariño,” Vaggie cooed, beginning to idly stroke Morga’s silky, feathered wings. She was actively racking her brain, trying to think of what would help her wolf feel more like her usual self. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

In response, Morga’s ears flattened once more and she looked anywhere but at Vaggie. The moth demon gave the direwolf a small, patient smile. “That’s alright; it’s easy to forget those things when you’re depressed and having an off day. How about we find something good to eat in the kitchen and then go back to our room to cuddle?”

In response, Morga butted her head against Vaggie’s stomach, then rose to her paws for a nice, long stretch. She stared expectantly at Vaggie, waiting for the moth demon to stand up too. Vaggie chuckled, taking that as her cue to stand. “Alright, princess, let’s go.” Morga growled softly at Vaggie’s teasing tone and gently nipped her hand for good measure. “Hey now, you better watch it, missy!” Vaggie replied, to which Morga swatted her gently with one of her wings before plodding ahead to the kitchen.

The two of them rifled through the cupboards, determined to find something Morga would like. Suddenly, the direwolf’s ears perked up and she eagerly sniffed a sealed plastic bag that was filled to the brim with something that smelled delicious. Vaggie raised a brow and reached into the cupboard, only to pull out the bag of venison jerky that Morga had been snuffling at. “Babe, Alastor made this from the deer he killed during his last hunt. Maybe we should find some food that doesn’t already belong to someone, yeah?” In response, Morga’s ears drooped, she lowered her head, and simultaneously gave Vaggie the most pathetic puppy dog eyes she could muster. Vaggie groaned, covering her face with the hand not holding the bag of jerky so she wouldn’t have to see the pathetically adorable display.

“Ugh...okay, fine! I guess that shitlord can always make more another time. I’d rather you have the jerky than him anyway,” Vaggie relented, holding the bag of jerky out to Morga. The direwolf gently took the bag into her mouth, trotting toward the staircase as Vaggie grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and followed quickly behind.

Back in their shared bedroom, Vaggie and Morga, still in wolf form, lounged on their bed and snacked on stolen jerky while soft music played from a speaker on their bedside table. Vaggie leaned back against the headboard, scratching behind Morga’s ears as the direwolf sprawled across the moth demon’s lap and contentedly tore into her seventh piece of jerky. While Morga still felt like a shadow of her usual self, she couldn’t deny that she felt much better than she had that morning; and it was all thanks to the love, support, and patience that Vaggie so freely gave.

Suddenly, from downstairs they heard a baffled-sounding Radio Demon call out: “Oh Charlie, dearest, do you know where my venison jerky ran off to? I put an entire bag in the cupboard just this morning!”

Meanwhile, back in hers and Vaggie’s bedroom, Morga wolfed down the last piece of jerky that was currently between her forepaws, and pushed the empty bag beneath the duvet with her nose. Content with her work, she laid her head on top of Vaggie’s stomach, snuggled close to her side, and spread one of her wings over her moth demon as a sort of blanket. She gazed up at Vaggie in thanks for all she had done that day, then began to fall asleep. This slumber would be far more peaceful than the last.

[saeranlover]

Okay, so... I managed to get this short oneshot written. It’s been a while since I properly wrote sinful sexy fics, so this was a bit of a practice towards that.

So, as a word of warning, this is a NSFW Valentine’s Day Saeyoung x MC(Reader) x Saeran fic.

It’s also here on AO3.

“Of course, you must serve them with strawberries. There is no other way in which to do so in order to provide a delightful experience. Perhaps with a slight drizzle of syrup over the top too. Are those instructions sufficient enough for your breakfast endeavours?”

“Yes! Oh, thank you so much, Jumin! It means a lot to me that you were able to help me in making pancakes…” A smile formed on your face as you used your shoulder to keep your phone up against your ear as you quickly flipped the frying pan that you were cooking the breakfast treat in. “Oh, by the way… Are you going to treat your love today, Jumin?”

“… My love?”

“Elizabeth the 3rd! Are you treating her today? I’m sure she would love to indulge in a treat from you.” Once you had finished speaking, there was a deep chuckle down the phone.

“Of course I am. I have already cooked her some special pancakes for her, but with strawberries substituted with her favourite luxury fish, flaked to perfection. Actually, I believe I should go and take them to her now… I hope that Saeran and Saeyoung enjoy their breakfast too. Good day...” Jumin was quick to hang up the call before you could say bye to him, so thankfully, it allowed you to concentrate on your cooking properly.  There were two plates beside you, each with a developing stack of pancakes forming… You just needed to finish this last one, and then you could get to the toppings.

A grin formed on your face when you were able to plate the final pancake, before you thought about what to do to really personalise them… Sure, Jumin believed that they were perfect with strawberries, but the twin’s weren’t Jumin, were they? Your eyes then shifted to the freezer, and you got an idea. That was Saeran’s pancakes sorted…

With a slight skip in your step, you went over to the freezer and pulled out the tub of chocolate ice cream. He was going to have the joy of a few (large) scoops of ice cream on his breakfast!

But what about Saeyoung? Maybe it was something to think on as you cleaned up the mess that you made…

Eventually though, when you were putting some of the mess in the bin, you noticed something on the floor that must have meant to be in the bin already… An empty packet of those chips Saeyoung loved to eat… You picked up the wrapper and tossed it in the trash, before your eyes widened.

“Ah-! That’s it!” You ran over to the cupboard, and grabbed hold of the jar of honey in there, as well as a packet of Saeyoung’s chips. He was going to get a light drizzle of honey, followed by a sprinkling of the crushed chips… He’d like that for sure.

With that, you then pulled out your phone and sent a text to the twins. ‘Come to the kitchen, you two! I have a surprise for you both, and you need to get them whilst it’s still warm~’ You then put your phone away, and settled yourself down at the table, with the plates of pancakes at the other two seats.

The… quaint sound of bickering was the first thing you heard when the twins emerged in the doorway, with both of them trying to get through the door at the same time. Saeran was staring daggers at Saeyoung, and Saeyoung was sticking his tongue out at Saeran. It was both childish, but… In a way, you found it endearing.

Eventually, there was a loud crash as both of them fell onto the ground inside the kitchen, but it was a slight relief that they had stopped arguing. Saeyoung then stood up, and gazed towards you as you started giggling.

“It’s about time that you both showed up… Here are some honey butter pancakes for Saeyoung, and chocolate ice cream pancakes for Saeran!”

The eagerness on their faces when they heard about their breakfasts was enough to make your heart flutter… They loved them. They loved the breakfast which took you since the moment you woke up to prepare… It was worth every second of hard work to get them done. However, you noticed that the two of them seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes… You wished you could understand what was going on between the two of them.

“Oh my dear twin, don’t you feel as though it is unfair that only we have a treat this fine morning of the 14th of February?” Saeyoung asked with a traditionally over-dramatic flair. “The woe of watching our fine maiden go without as we divulge in our-!”

“Quit the crap. Just give her some, Saeyoung.”  Saeran then took a forkful of his pancake as Saeyoung did the same, before they stood up and approached you from both sides. “Open your mouth…” There was a smirk on Saeran’s face as Saeyoung smiled widely.

Huh? They were trying to make you eat their pancakes?

Before you knew it, in your confusion both pieces of pancake were put in your mouth, but as you weren’t expecting it you started spluttering thanks to the overly-sweet honey-chocolate combo. It was a relief when you were finally able to swallow the pancakes, but that ended up with you being met with two looks of concern.

“You’re a messy eater… You’re going to have to get changed. Saeyoung, why don’t you go to her room and look for some clothes for her to wear? I’ll be there with her in a minute.” However, as Saeran pulled you close to him in a hug, you never noticed the slight wink which Saeyoung gave to Saeran, and the nod given in return. “Though, uh… thanks for the breakfast… Now come on we need to get you some clean clothes.”

…

The twins were not taking you to get some clean clothes.

You were led into your room, before you looked around in confusion. Saeyoung wasn’t there, but he had gone off here ahead of the two of you… But before you knew it, you suddenly felt a blindfold covering your eyes. “Saeran, what on earth are you...”

“Shut up. Just let us treat you… You do a lot for us so we’re returning the favour. So, um… just relax, okay?” Saeran then led you over to your bed, and sat you down on it. “You ready, Saeyoung?”

The bed suddenly bounced slightly as it sounded as though somebody had sat on it behind you, before a pair of arms wrapped around your stomach and pulled you back. “Make sure you’re feeling comfy, because you’re in for a ride...” Saeyoung whispered down your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Oh my god, what are those two doing…?

A gentle kiss was pressed against your throat then, at the same time as you felt a slight tickling feeling on the bottom of your feet. You twitched slightly, before your feet were held in place. “I’ll punish you if you move, okay? So stay. Still.” Saeran then pressed a kiss to your ankle, and Saeyoung decided to start slowly teasing the skin of your throat with his fingers.

You couldn’t stay still.

So many little, ticklish actions were enough to make you shiver again, and whimper quietly. There was a loud sigh, before you felt your skirt be lifted and the inside of your thighs be scraped at slightly. “You’ve got a choice… You can have a surprise punishment, or you can see what we’re ‘gifting’ you in this punishment… After all, isn’t this day about ‘showing love’? You’ve got until Saeran removes your panties~” The tearing sound seconds later made you gasp. “Oh! Time’s up~ Let’s keep it a surprise, Saeran...”

You whimpered then as one arm of the twin behind you wrapped around you to stop you from moving, and his other hand slowly snaked into the top of your shirt and toyed with your chest. The other twin made you squeal out loud though, as his mouth was quick to start working at the apex between your legs, sending shockwaves of delight up your spine. “Ah… Mean… Y- You’re both mean… Wh- Why are you teasing me after I- I ah- made you pancakes?!”

“It’s simple, princess… You need to relax and feel some pleasure, you work too hard for us, so we’re now working hard for you...” Saeran laughed, before you suddenly felt a tongue plunge into your entrance. You shrieked quietly at how sudden it was, but also at the fact that you weren’t expecting it.

Saeyoung’s voice was next though. “We can stop if you want us to though… Saeran was the one who came up with this plan though, so he’s pretty eager when it comes to this… He’s the one eating your out by the way...” He then pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before you whined out some more.

“I- It’s not fair that I can’t see… It… It’s making me want more...” You then, unintentionally, closed your thighs around Saeran’s head and made the feeling in your core so much more intense… The feeling of pleasure, the overwhelming need to be filled-! “Gah, j- just fuck me-! I need you both!”

Saeran pulled away from you then, before you felt the blindfold be pulled off. You were met with the sight of your chest heaving frantically, your legs twitching, Saeyoung embracing you gently, and… Saeran unbuckling his pants. “Okay… We’ll give you what you want!” Saeyoung grinned, before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “However… We’re going to need to turn you around first.” As he finished speaking, Saeran took hold of your hands, pulled you to your feet, before turning you around so your back was against his chest.

“Trust me… You’re going to love this next part of the gift… This will definitely repay you for the pancakes.” He then laughed, and nuzzled his head against you. “Now…” Saeran then ended up pulling your legs apart slightly, before you felt his cock against your opening. You moaned out loud, before you were met with a slight laugh. “By the way… Saeyoung is going to be pleasuring you too, just… not in the same way as me...”

“Huh…?”

“Open wide...” Saeran then chuckled, before you realised what he meant by what Saeyoung was doing. A smirk formed on your face and you decided to join in. It wasn’t just a gift for you… In a way, it was a gift for all three of you… And if any opportunity appeared to make the twins feel your love for them, then you would take it.

Gently, you took Saeyoung’s cock into your hands gently, and ran your tongue over the tip. At the exact same time, Saeran pushed himself into you. The three of you shuddered in pleasure at that, and your thoughts began to almost blur through ecstasy. You were technically being taken by both twins at once, and that feeling made you feel so…. Loved.

That was… amazing for a day dedicated to love…

With that, the three of you really did feel like one. Saeran penetrating you from behind, the friction making you moan gently around Saeyoung as you took him in your mouth.

You couldn’t remember the exact moment where you reached your orgasm, but you felt yourself come around as Saeran reached his own inside you, and Saeyoung carefully moved back so he wouldn’t do the same in your mouth.

After that, you felt Saeran wrap his arms around you in an embrace, and Saeyoung started playing with your hair. “So...Did you like your gift, princess? Because if you did, next time, I want to swap places with Saeyoung…”

“We can do this whenever you want, babe...”

You smiled and nodded as you found the energy to pull yourself up, and grabbed hold of Saeyoung’s hoodie from the bed (which he must have discarded when you were blindfolded) and pulled it on. “Okay… How about after you two finish your pancakes? They’ve probably gone cold now!”

[kiwiparallels]

Townhouse, part II

[You can read part I here]  Harry got back to his house with a head on the clouds. Conflicted between thoughts of sleek blond hair and how attractive it seemed to even on a bloke, he didn’t realize how a trail of changes followed him upstairs to the naked bed. The boxes spilled its contents, just before, tucking themselves in the closet near the front door. Cups and plates moved themselves to the kitchen cupboards, while books flew right to the big wooden bookshelf in the living room. Colored clothes were slowly sorted in the walk-in closet in the main room where he slept. The walls went from an old beige to a clear white color, as the wind sweeped the dust away from the dark hardwood floors. A flame was lit up in the fireplace, right under the old firebolt, that decided that wall was a good place to hang. A beautiful drawing of a Lion, made by Luna a couple months before, attached itself to the wall in the hall, waving its mane with a shake.

When he woke up, blinded by the bright sunshine, his stomach roared in hunger. His golden snitch zoomed over the room, making him very aware of yesterday’s pints and the consequent headache that pulsed on his forehead. He thought of Ellie, and how warming the little bar she ran felt to him. He knew his friends would love the place, but he couldn’t show it to them yet. Moving to muggle London had one objective: being away of the wizarding world enough so he could get on with his life again. A pinch of pain took hold of his heart: did that mean there was no space for Ron and Hermione at this new life? No, of course not. It was just an adjustment time. He could figure things out as he went. His friends were there, no matter how apart they were. Their thursdays dinners would eventually happen again. Just not right now.

He got up, looking around the room. It was like, during the night - or better, the morning, as the sun was so up into the sky that it seemed like it was almost noon -, the place got a new face altogether. It was still empty, no new furniture appeared. But it did seem clean and tidy, as a house was supposed to be. He started down the stairs, watching closely for updates, and right as the possibility of an entering-and-breaking occurred to him, he ran into someone.

“Master Harry” said Kreacher, anxious eyes glittering at him.

“Kreacher! What are you doing here? I thought you were at Hogwarts since I freed you”

“Kreacher was, Master Harry, he lived through the shame!” Harry thought it was better not to complain with that statement. “Kreacher wants to know if Master Harry needs help decorating the new house, sir.”

“I think I’m okay, Kreacher, thank you. Is there something I can do for you?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Master Harry, Kreacher heard you’re selling Mistress house!”

“Yes, so?”

“Kreacher wanted to… say goodbye, sir.”

“The house is open for you as long as it’s mine, Kreacher.” The bow he received then was exaggerated and deep. With a last ‘thank you’, Kreacher flicked his hand, pointing to the kitchen, and disappeared out of thin air. The air was filled with the smell of fresh pancakes and scrambled eggs. A treat from Hogwarts, he thought. His stomach rumbled again, wondering if there would be some treacle tart. Was that what happened, then? Kreacher decided to buy his sympathy with his organization talents? He went to the kitchen, mouth watering at the beautiful breakfast that awaited him, treacle tart included.

He had never been good at sensing where the magic around him came from. He knew the food was full of house-elf magic, but there was nothing in it telling him that. Hermione would help him with it. She was not just sensible, but her new experience in regards of magical creatures would pay off. He took a mental note to ask her later. Everything was delicious, but the tea was already cold. He got his wand and pointed at his cup, muttering a quick heating charm. As he touched it, the water quickly boiled up and evaporated. He shrugged. It happened occasionally. Maybe he should have been back to Hogwarts, as apparently he couldn’t do children’s magic properly anymore. But he was above it, in his muggle house. It wasn’t a problem anymore.

He got out of the house again that day, thinking about how he needed to fill up the house with furniture. He had never done that before, and he was sure he didn’t want anything like the Black’s furniture. It was old and classic, but also very boring and elegant in a way he would never be. The Dursley’s modern-kitsch home was no better, all colors and patterns that still reminded him of the seventies too much. He wanted a clean space, with less clutter than his head. He needed it. The task quickly got really boring. He pointed at furniture and wrote big cheques, and then pointed at new furniture. It was all exactly what he wanted, but it wouldn’t get to the house for a couple of days, and he couldn’t really put it together in his mind. He hadn’t bought everything yet, only the big pieces he was sure he needed, and - oh, so needed - some shades for his windows, as he was still scarred from his sudden encounter with the sun today. When it started to go down again, he tried to think about dinner.

Cooking in the muggle way seemed like a burden, the memory of the Dursley’s gave him a chill. That he wouldn’t do. But his magic was faltering, and trying one or two of Molly’s charms to cook could even set the house on fire. He would need to eat out again. And forever, apparently. He stopped at a cafe and bought a sandwich, eating slowly as he walked. Maybe buying stuff would be more fun with help. Maybe eating would be more fun with people. Harry wondered why his life always circled down to being alone. Even in his days at Hogwarts, in the end, it was only him and Voldemort. No one was there to actually understand what he was feeling, what he needed, what he wanted. Hell, who knew what he wanted? Just now he only wanted his empty townhouse, and here he kept muttering about its emptiness! He felt frustrated. He looked at himself, mirrored in a window shop, and sighed. Some would say he had everything. He had more money he could count, fame, the bestest friends in the world, he had a fierce girlfriend… Ginny crossed his mind them.

She had made him happy someday. His heart raced to see her, his mouth dried up when he had to talk to her, kissing her was a bliss. But when did it change? He remembered them as a good dynamic couple… when he was sixteen. Had it been so long? Had he been lonely for so long? It did, apparently. They tried, he knew, but it got so tiring. And there was no reward at the end. The happiness he felt by her side had a place before the war, at the Hogwarts he called home. But not here, not at this time. If he could feel any differently he would, but it was so agonizing to explain it to her. To put in words that he thought about not coming back. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew what he wanted was something else altogether. She would treat him like he was crazy, like he had never lost anyone, like he didn’t understand the pain she felt. And she was one of the few who knew what it felt to be in Voldemort’s shoes, to feel like a pawn in a bigger game. He felt used. But she would say everything worked out in the end, so who cared? Once she even said that, maybe, it was better he was used. He shook the thought away. A chilly breeze came through and he wished he had a thicker coat. Although, it served the moment right, he was already feeling cold for a while.

As he walked aimlessly, he tried to not think. That had always been hard. But chewing up on everything that went wrong would not help. He had stated that very clearly in therapy. He was lonely, yes. It was a fact he had to deal with. Maybe, what he needed was a new girlfriend, someone who didn’t have to know about the mess of the war - someone fun and carefree like the muggle people he saw on the street. He thought about Ellie, she was nice. Her dark brown hair was long and wavy, careless knotted up. She seemed like his kind of girl, easy going and talented. A lot like Ginny. But maybe he wasn't that easy going anymore. Or that talented. What did he do? She asked. He had no answer. Being a wizard wasn’t something to do either. He had to come up with something. Soon. Actually, before coming up with a present, he had to come up with a past. She seemed quite sure he looked like a rich kid. Maybe it was the magic energy, maybe it was the fact that he would never worry about money in his life indeed. Apparently the Potters made sure of that.

But that was a good place to start. Private boarding school. In Scotland. Not that far from the truth. What else? Orphan? How could he be an orphan rich kid? His parents died recently, then - it would explain the grief that used to come back from time to time. Car accident? He laughed, imagining Aunt Petunia’s face if she knew he intended to pull her lie onto people again. No other family, all right. He was pretty sure no Dursley would stop to greet him on the street anytime. No clue about what to do with his life - that was actually true.  He felt a little bit lighter with this plan. At least he knew what to say when he talked to someone again. He wondered if he should go back to the bar. The idea of beer got his stomach churned up, but maybe he could just hang. Play some darts, maybe.

His image in the window shops caught his attention again. He had old clothes on, he knew the tee under his jacket actually had a hole under his arm. Usually he had no one to dress up to - or he would just throw some robes over everything and call it a day. It was, then, time to shop some more. He went in some stores, remembering how the guy from yesterday’s night was dressed. He could never pull off something like that. He didn’t have the confidence or the body. Of course he had grown up, he had always been tall, and his shoulders were broader, but he still seemed really slim, built for a seeker. The beard was a game changer, though. He tried to keep it short and trimmed, but it did make him seem older. He could work with that, maybe. His hair would do whatever it wanted, so it was a lost case. He did like how a simple tee looked so he went for that. Everything he got was like his house: plain and uncomplicated. He played with all colors, but got simple pieces as jeans, long sleeves and sweaters. His most complicated look was the one he was wearing as he got out of the shop: a grey and black baseball tee and a jeans jacket.

He felt fresh. He went straight into the bar, sitting on Ellie’s counter again. She greeted him with a smile.

“I’m sorry to tell you our kitchen is already closed. A pint, though?”

“Just some p-ginger beer, please.” He stuttered as he realized she probably wouldn’t have fresh pumpkin juice in a muggle bar.

“Oh, I see it was a rough morning indeed.” She went to pick up a bottle, and turned to a tanned brunette girl, very tall and very thin. “Chiara, we have a new local. Meet Harry - it is Harry, right?’

“Yes, it’s good to meet you.” Harry shook her hand. She smiled too. “You run the kitchen here, right? Last night’s pepperoni pizza was incredible.”

“It’s an old family recipe, thanks. What brought you here, Harry?” Chiara said, no accent, even though he wasn’t sure why he was expecting one. He didn’t look the part of an englishman either.

“I bought a house a few blocks away.” She looked a little bit uncertain, and turned to Ellie.

“He’s the private schooled jock, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. He never told me if I was right, though. But you know I’m good.” Two ginger-beers appeared at the counter.

“You are.” Harry said with a smile, laughing as the girls screamed a clearly rehearsed A-ha! to his face.

That night’s conversation was easy, no big personal questions were asked. They told him about the business, Chiara’s family was in England for a few generations now, but decided to return to to Italy when she turned eighteen. Pizza was her way of doing it, and in the middle of it, her school best friend Ellie decided to study bartending so they would open the bar of their dreams. They had met Jack on a party, he went with them to taste one of her pizzas, and decided that taste would make anything a good investment. Harry could only agree, Jack was absolutely right. After a couple hours, feeling the un-stressful ambience relax and soothe him, Harry noticed Ellie looking at one of the girls passing through the crowd with dreamy eyes. Chiara noticed and pointed discreetly.

“That’s Ellie’s biggest bar crush. She comes here every wednesday and saturday for the last eight months, and that face happens every time.”

“She’s pretty, I guess.” He said.

“How come? She’s perfect! She’s a lawyer, always celebrating her big wins with us. Oh, if I had someone a could sue… You guess, hah! Do you even like girls? How can you say that?”

“O-of course I like girls.” Harry was thrown off by the comment. He did like girls, he liked Gin. Not for a long time. And he did like Cho, back then. But not kissing her, at all. He shrugged. He didn’t like boys any better. Except for the blond guy yesterday.

“Do you, really?” Chiara laughed. “It’s okay, Harry, you don’t need to label yourself for us. Ellie here is just messing with you.”

“You don’t need to, but unfortunately Chiara is super straight. I’ve never even had a shot.” She mock frowned. Harry smirked, and looked around. People around here really didn’t seem to label themselves. He saw how the interactions were really free and smooth, between everyone, far from some muggle places where he had been before, in which straight couples were the only ones to be seen. It hadn’t caught his eyes, usually that was how things worked in the wizarding world too. He never thought of worrying about it. It was buried in a distant past in which he dodged bullies and had to hear Dudley’s opinions about everything. A past that ended soon after Hagrid went into that hut.

“OI! Harry!” Ellie snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I said I saw you ogling the cute blond boy yesterday! Is that what you are into? Long hair and leather jackets?” He was startled.

“Was it that obvious?” She nodded with a knowing smirk. “He seemed like someone I knew, actually. But, yeah, he was fit.”

“Oh, he’s a regular. Maybe you’ll have a better luck than I did. But all I know is he’s pretty busy, he works a lot, I guess. What did he do, Chi? The one that always order the prosciutto pizza…”

“Hm, I think he’s a journalist of sorts. Music press, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah, the Nirvana t-shirt guy that actually looks a little like Kurt! And he usually drinks whisky.” Ellie added, counting the information pieces in her fingers.

“What’s Nirvana?” Harry asked, making both girls giggle loudly.

[to be continued: part III, part IV]

[foreverlovingdaryldixon]

Bad Seed Rising (Chapter 3)

A/N: I think this’ll be the last chapter I’ll be posting on here, the rest will be on ninelives! Hope you enjoy guys! Reviews are love.

Ninelives link: ninelivesarchive.com/viewstory.php?sid=2704&chapter=3

Carol felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest as she held in her hand her upgraded maths paper. The shit she’d avoided getting off her parents had been worth hounding the teachers over - besides she knew his grading was wrong, why shouldn’t she push for the grade she’d worked for?

Pulling up to her house, she lugged her bag over her shoulder, another hefty helping of homework dished out to her to fill her evening…how thrilling.

“I’m home,” she called out as she entered the door, slipping off her shoes and heading into their dining room.

“Good evening darling,” her father greeted, glancing up at her over his laptop from the head of the table.

She sat down and immediately pulled out her books, getting her homework done sooner rather than later.

Within a few moments her mother flurried through the door, apron tied around her waist as she set a bottle of wine in the middle of the table.

“And what are the results from your maths test today?” her mother asked as way of greeting.

That infamous twitch to roll her eyes was there again but she ignored it, pulling the test papers from under her homework, “got an A.”

“Wonderful,” her mother said clasping her hands together, “keep that up and you’ll be in Yale before you know it.”

Do. Not. Roll. Eyes.

Carol hummed a sort of response, pretending to be too involved in her homework to give an actual reply.

Her mother went promptly back to making dinner, her father deciding to perk up and say his piece.

“No work at the table tomorrow Carol, I want to make a good impression on the Peletier’s. Mr Peletier’s firm and mine are in the middle of making a very important agreement, you are not to step a foot out of line.”

Carol nodded in understanding, thinking how she’d rather shoot herself rather than spend an evening with Ed Peletier.

“I might just stay at the library for the evening, I have a project I could work on-“

“No. You are to be here, Ed’s coming and you will be here too, he’s a strapping young man.”

Carol bit her tongue in her urge to argue otherwise, arguing would get her nowhere, best to stay silent.

Dinner was served with minimal amount of speaking on Carol’s part, letting her parents run their jaws about whatever they pleased as long as it meant she didn’t have to.

After helping clean up she excused herself to go to her room, explaining she had more work to be getting on with.

When she got to her room she flopped herself out on her bed, already feeling dread for tomorrow evening. Ed had tried it on with her on more than one occasion, every time she flat out rejected him, she was not going to be another notch on his bedpost, not by far. Her rejections didn’t seem to deter him though, in fact he seemed to become more and more eager every encounter she had with him.  Her friends thought the situation was hilarious, at least they got some laughs in the expense of her misery.

**

Daryl had spent the rest of his evening down the garage, trying to make up the money Merle lost that morning.

By the time he got back he was dead on his feet, his stomach grumbling as a reminder he’d yet to eat anything. Rummaging through the cupboards of his shitty tin can of a home he managed to rustle up a sandwich and a can of beer, calling out to his brother as he settled on the couch.

“Merle ya dick,” he yelled, head tilted towards his bedroom.

He received a grunt of a reply letting Daryl know he’d survived the day.

“Ya gonna drag ya ass out’ve bed sometime today?” he asked glancing around at the shit he’d left the place in after last night’s rendezvous.

“Later,” Merle grunted back, clearly suffering on a comedown.

“Place ain’t gonna clean itself,” Daryl grumbled, crushing the empty beer can in his hand, chucking it into the trash from where he was sat.

“Get the stick outta ya ass boy,” Merle called back, “public school ain’t doin’ ya no damn good.”

“Fuck you,” Daryl growled as he got up and strode over to his room, kicking off his shoes before collapsing down on the bed.

Sitting up, Daryl leant out of his window, lighting up another smoke to calm his aggravated nerves, too much shit got under his skin today.

“Y’know maybe if ya got some pussy once in a while ya wouldn’t be so damn tense Darylina,” Merle’s voice said from his doorway, “ya gotta be drownin’ in willin’ tail at that pile’ve shit ya insist on goin’ too.”

“Fuck off Merle,” Daryl warned, he was not in the mood for his shit.

“What ya don’t wanna talk to big brother Merle?” Merle chuckled, stealing a cigarette from the packet on Daryl’s bedside table.

“Nah not really,” Daryl responded, focusing on the nicotine flowing through his veins rather than the anger.

“Throw me a bone here Daryl,” Merle smirked, “ya ain’t seen me in over two weeks.”

“Yeah and where the fuck’ve ya been?” Daryl snarled, snatching the cigarette back out of Merle’s fingers.

“I’ve been…around?” Merle offered, honestly he couldn’t really remember, “went to visit an old friend, owed me some money.”

“Yeah and where fuck is that money now? Oh yeah ya fuckin’ snorted it up didn’t ya?” Daryl snapped.

“If we’re goin’ for technicalities, then actually I injected it in,” Merle said, no trace of guilt in his tone.

Daryl let out a growl, he was done with this conversation, so fucking done.

“Get out,” he said as calmly as he could.

Merle knew when to choose his battles, the fact that Daryl’s voice was still so calm meant it was time for him to haul ass.

“I’ll get the money,” Merle grunted before he left, shutting the door behind him padding back to his own room.

Daryl took long and deep breaths as he burned a hole through his door with his stare, he was stuck with the world’s biggest fuck up as a brother. Sad thing was that Merle was the only family he had left, the only person that gave even the smallest shit about him.

It took another cigarette before he felt calm enough to sleep, his anger within him wrapped like a tightly coiled spring. What the fuck did he do to deserve this shit?

**

The next morning came and if Carol had to hear one more damn word about the Peletier’s she was going cut her ears off. She had even left for school early just to avoid her parents repetitive droning driving her to the point of insanity.

When she got to school she was pleased to see Michonne and Andrea were already there, sat on top of the picnic table talking to Rick and Shane. She quickly approached them greeting both them and the boys.

“Excited for your date with Peletier tonight?” Andrea teased immediately.

Rick and Shane both raised a brow at her in question as Carol reached across from where she was sat to slap her on the arm.

“It’s not a date,” Carol stressed, “it’s a business meeting between my father and his, just so happens that Ed is coming along.”

“How convenient,” Michonne quipped.

“Isn’t it ever,” Carol groaned, groaning even further as the man himself turned up in his brand new sports car.

“Here comes lover boy now,” Andrea snickered as Ed made a beeline for Carol.

“Miller,” Ed greeted with one his overly confident grins.

“Peletier,” Carol said back, the intensity of his stare already setting like a chill in her bones.

“Looking good today,” he commented as he sucked at his teeth, “I’m presuming you’ll be there for dinner tonight.”

“That I will,” she kept her sentences short, hoping to get the conversation over and done with.

Thankfully the ringing of the bell cut off whatever was about to come out of his vulgar mouth.

“See you tonight, beautiful,” he winked before turning away to join his jock friends, getting pats of encouragement as he no doubt made some claim that wasn’t true.

“Guy gives me the creeps,” Rick chuckled as they all walked towards the entrance.

“You and I both,” Carol said back with a shudder.

School dragged on much long than it needed too, prolonging her urge to get the evening over and done with.

They sat indoors at lunch with their usual crowd of people. Carol wouldn’t consider herself one of the popular kids but she certainly wasn’t lacking for friends.

Her closest friends were Andrea and Michonne- being best friends since grade school- but they roamed with a wide circle of people. There was Maggie, Glenn (those two were dating), Rick (him and Michonne should be dating), Shane (had a thing for Andrea, not that she ever showed any real interest, other than that one time no one’s allowed to ask about), Tara (she has a lowkey thing for Rosita), Paul (although everyone knew him as Jesus), Rosita and Abraham (they were also dating on and off).

Those that were consider popular were the jocks and the cheerleaders, obviously, but their crowds rarely ever mixed. However, it seemed today Ed was set on breaking that norm.

“Carol,” Ed said taking an uninvited seat next to her making her cringe in her place.

“Hello Ed,” she said, her strained voice not going unnoticed by those around her.

“So, I was thinking, maybe after the dinner tonight we could spend some time together, could take you out for a spin,” he said with a sickening smile like he’d just come up with the best idea ever.

“Let’s just get through dinner first,” she said in return, “I have work to catch up on,” she added, thinking of the homework she never finished the night before.

“Y’know, you don’t have to play hard to get with me angel face,” he said a hand coming out to caress her cheek, only for Carol to grip his thick wrist tightly, removing her hand away from her.

“Believe me that is so not my game,” she muttered as she stared down at table, praying he’d get the hint and go away.

“Whether you like it or not, our parents want us together, and who are we to dictate them?” he asked with a smirk as he stood up, gripping her chin in his large hand to face him, “besides…you wouldn’t hear any complaints coming from me.”

She jerked out of his hold, shuddering in disgust as he strode proudly back to his band of merry men.

“And why aren’t we allowed to kick his ass again?” Andrea asked, her lip curled up in a snarl as she watched him walk away.

“Because, his family and mine are soon to be business partners and as my father said if I so much as put a foot out of line…it’s just not worth the hassle of dealing with my parents,” she sighed, slumping herself into her hands as she rested her elbows on the table.

“You need to stand up to them at some point Carol,” Michonne said from across the table, “you’re eighteen years old, they can’t control like they do anymore.”

“If only it were that simple,” Carol whined following with a huff, “they’ll completely cut me off if I don’t do something that doesn’t follow within their plans for me. And I’m not saying that I rely on my parents’ money for things but I can’t even get a job within a five mile radius of this town, they’ve used their scary ass authority to make sure they won’t even consider hiring me.”

“Y’know, my uncle owns a bar, let me talk to him, see if he’ll consider taking you on? Your parents wouldn’t even have to know.”

“A bar?” Carol asked her jaw going a little slack, “Andrea I can’t work in a bar, have you seen me? I wouldn’t last two minutes in a job like that.”

Andrea simply shrugged her shoulders, “up to you, but at one point or another you’re going to have to stop living under their foot, that day is going to come whether you like it or not.”

Carol groaned as she rested her head on her table, the thought of defying her parents even without their knowledge was terrifying, they had eyes everywhere in this town, there’s no way they wouldn’t find out eventually. But she knew her friends were right, she had to make a stand against them…but at the same time the last thing she wanted to do was piss them off. That spark of defiance was there though, whether she knew it or not. It was just waiting to be lit and shit if they weren’t on their way to lighting it.

[chaosmagetwin]

The Wild Adventures of Ashley and Paul: Prologue

Ashley stared at the empty bowl in the sink, one green eye twitching.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Despite the calming action, her tail twitched angrily. After a few more moments, she finally yelled out loud. 

"WHERE IS MY FUCKING! PUDDING?!"

Silence followed, and it took a few moments before a heavy step sounded just outside the kitchen door. "I ate it." She snapped her head to look at the man standing in the doorway, his too wide shoulders taking up half of it, even though one of the shoulders wasn't even visible yet. The rings in her horns jingled for a moment and she propped her fists on her hips. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, he spoke again. "You used butter in it. You know I can't resist that."

"You don't even have a stomach anymore!" She ranted. "I made that pudding for me! It was vanilla and strawberry!" Her tail swished through the air, and she winced as the tip accidentally clipped a cupboard handle. "It's my favorite..."

"I thought we agreed to never use butter for that reason again? I thought we were going healthy?" He stepped through the doorway the rest of the way, and carefully slid a chair so he could sit in it. She glared at him as he sat down, but waited. "I might not have a stomach anymore, but I still have tastebuds." He smirked at her as her rage deflated. "Besides. I won't gain weight. I've got an... iron stomach." He sniggered as she rolled her eyes at him. 

Ashley sighed and picked up the bowl with one hand. Not even a little bit left. She jumped as the doorbell rang. "Who the hell?"

"Hey, Language, potty mouth. Keep the cursing for the humans." He stood up again as the two of them headed for the front door. The moment they opened it, Ashley burst out laughing. "Well, if it isn't the guy who never shuts up about toilet paper!"

The large man in a business suit outside her door sighed, and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. "That was one story, Ashley. How is The Wild House treating you two?" The Author stepped inside, looking around, a pen tapping his clipboard. "I see there's no damage yet. Surprising, considering your heritage and Paul's size..."

Paul sighed. "Yes, please, come on in. Would you like some vanilla pudding?" Ashley shoved her elbow into his ribs and winced as it hit hard steel. The Author looked up at their nervously grinning faces and shrugged. 

"I'm afraid I don't have that sort of time today. I'm just here to inspect the house and make sure you two havn't killed each other. I need my characters alive, after all. How is high school?"

"Apparently, Character High School is terribly racist. Being part demon kind of sucks. or a cyborg." Ashley spoke slowly at the wall, choosing not to look at The Author.

"Yeah. Apparently, half demons should be slutty and sucking out... 'souls'... and cyborgs need to have laser beams, have no emotions, and no sense of humor. I literally cannot pun or joke in class without everyone staring at me and trying to figure out if i am being dead serious or not. Sarcasm is literally impossible."

"Yes, those are the stereotypes... And you are fighting against them?"

They both nodded, although Ashley gave a shrug too. "Apparently my anger is because I'm a demon, and not because I'm pissed that they are both objectifying and demeaning me. Also, Paul is hilarious. Usually." The Author scribbled furiously on the clipboard, nodding. He walked past the two of them without even looking up. "And have you been following your character arcs?"

"You mean... studying?" Authors are so difficult to understand. Why can't they just talk like normal people? Ashley thought. "I mean, yeah. It's school."

"Mhmm." He passed by the kitchen and stopped to stare inside for a few moments. He made some sort of noise as the two of them stared inside as well, wondering what he was seeing.... or not seeing. "Show me to your bedrooms?" he had phrased it as a question, but it was toned as an order. The two of them sighed. Dealing with The Author was never easy. When Ashley had first saved Paul, neither of them had thought they would be recruited by The Authoritative Agency and forced to live together. Phrases like 'incredible backstory' and 'fascinating characters' were thrown about as a house was purchased for them and the short yet large Author was assigned to them to study and learn... for something. The AA wasn't exactly understood by anyone outside of it. They'd been placed into a highschool filled with people like them, although they were a little more human. Some were going to grow up to become 'hard boiled detectives', while others were already working as 'magical girls'. What any of that meant to Ashley or Paul was unclear. 

The short walk up the stairs to visit the bedrooms was punctuated by The Authors' 'hmm's and 'aha's. Ashley opened her door for him and watched his face as he looked in. She bit her tongue as his face lit up with delight. "Ah, yes, perfect, quite perfect indeed." Her eye twitched dangerously, and Paul put a hand on her shoulder before she spoke. "I quite like the decorations. Girly, yet dangerous. Fitting."

She looked into her room as Paul and The Author moved to his room. For a moment, she wondered what exactly he meant by 'dangerous'. Her wall's were a nice neutral beige color, and most of the floorspace was taken up by a simple wooden dresser, a desk, and her red blanketed bed. The floor was not as clean as she wanted, with some books lying about here and there, a pile of clothes shoved into the corner, and a plate of old food half hidden under her bed. The only 'dangerous' thing was the pulsating flesh telephone she used to keep in contact with her mother, or, more likely, for her mother to keep in contact with her. Even the window had a bland look outside.

Her thoughts were interupted by The Authors cries of "No, no, this is all wrong. Wrong! This can't be here! Ah, you need you get rid of this."

She looked over at Pauls room and watched as now Paul's face twitched with anger. He had better control over his emotions than she did, but obviously this was bothering him. "What's he complaining about?" She asked casually.

"The books. Apparently, since I choce a muscle-bound body, I can't be intellectual."

Paul's room had quite a few more books than hers did. In fact, it was where she got her books; four bookcases lined the walls, with a desk shoved between two of them, and half of the other acting as his dresser. His closet was impossible to access with a bookcase in front of it. All the shelves, except those holding the few clothes he wore, held books. In the center of the room was the bed, with a simple blue blanket covering it. 

The Author harrumphed and stomped out of the room, then glared at Ashley. "Show me to the bathroom."

"Wow, jeeze, can't you date a girl first?" She asked automatically, her eyes flicking to Paul’s face to see his reaction. She grinned as Paul's face lightened and broke into a smile as well. "It's this way." She led the way, and opened the door. "Shouldn't you know where all this is anyways?"

"Of course I know where all this is. It's polite to ask." He stepped into it and jotted a few notes down as she sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't know exactly how he did it, but The Author was in control of how her life went now; how good her grades were, what happened during the day, whether a cute boy would hit on her, or an ugly one. He was like a god she despised who was also a mortal. 

"How do you two entertain yourselves?" Paul was the first to answer. "Books and jokes. Occasionally T.V. and video games."

Ashley gave a shrug. "Video Games, occasionally books, and trying to cook. Depending on your mood, it sometimes even turns out well."

"You aren't supposed to be good at cooking. Those were just strokes of dumb luck." She glared at him as he revealed the truth. 

"Well, I like to! Can't you change that?!"

"No. Show me where you play." She clenched her hands behind her back, but her tail and face gave away her real emotions. Paul stepped in front of her, his massive back taking up her view for a moment. 

"It's right this way, Author, Sir. Just down the stairs. Out of curiousity," he asked as they moved downstairs, "How are we supposed to eat?"

"With forks and knives, of course." For a few moments, everyone was silent, before he corrected himself "And you're supposed to go out to eat. Sorry, i work with many strange creatures. Some of them ask me that question, and I have to take it seriously."

Oh, fuck, he wasn't even joking, thought Ashley. "Isn't that expensive?" She said outloud. 

"The two of you don't have to worry about that. Your background gives you leave for that sort of expense." He looked in the living room, and made a 'hmmm' noise again. "Show me the games you play." Ashley sighed and entered the living room. It was decently sized, yet rather empty; a card table took up one 'half', even though it was no where near actually taking up that much room, while the television and couch properly took up their half. Next to the mounted flat screen they had saved up their allowances to buy were two dressers that held all their games, while a coffee table below the mounted TV held the console and the controls with long cords. She headed to her dresser and opened it. Most of her allowance went to the games, with a solid portion dedicated to food. "These three are my favorite." She tossed them to The Author, who read the names out loud.

"Seraphim's War, Call of Guns, and Final Fiction twenty seven? Why these?" "... I like fighting games, shooting games, and I like the main character in the last one." She said carefully. She put her hands behind her back and wrapped her tail around one leg. She didn't want it to smash into the TV if he said something that angered her again.

"And yours, Paul?" She glared at The Author as he completely ignored her choices. Not even a compliment for taste!

Paul moved to his dresser and opened it, pulling out his favorite three. "Uhh, Love-Love Dance Machination, Cyberspace, and The Dating Sim GrandMaster." Ashley rolled her eyes. So did The Author

"Well, at least both of your tastes are unique. Should have had your genders switched." He muttered. "Oh well. It's written now. I have to go, now. Alien House calls." he waddled for the front door. "I'll see myself out. Be careful in the coming days. Your story is about to get Wild."

[reedusdixonfictionaddiction]

The Summer in Georgia

Chapter 13. Daryl’s House

Daryl lived about 12 miles from Rick. The road was heavily wooded on both sides, occasionally, they’d pass a house, but they were few and far between. The scenery was beautiful, Isabella thought. She had never seen trees like this. Her world was surrounded by sky scrapers, the only trees she saw were in the parks. She loved the country. She felt so free. Daryl slowed the truck as he came to a dirt circle driveway with a small frame house behind it. There was a small attached garage and there was a motorcycle parked in front of it. The house was ranch style. It had a screened in porch on the front and window flower boxes on all the front windows, but no flowers.

Daryl pulled into the driveway and parked.

“This is me.” He said, getting out of the truck.

“It’s so pretty.” Isabella said excitedly, as she jumped out the other side.

Daryl held the screen door for her as she walked up onto the porch. He unlocked the front door and let her walk in first. She walked into a big entryway with wood floors, there were hooks on the wall with jackets and coats hung on them. As she continued down the hallway there was double doors to her left, that led into a huge room with lots of boxes and some old furniture. She looked in.

“If ya’ gotta’ use the bathroom, use that one back there.” He said pointing to the back of the large room. “It’s clean. I use the front one up here and it ain’t no where a lady should be.” He said, pointing to another room just ahead at the end of the hallway.

That room was huge too. It was also full of boxes and furniture and a lot of mounted deer heads lying around on the floor. Off to the right inside that room was the front bathroom. Daryl took Isabella all the way into the bedroom. He led her to a big table toward the back of the room. There were a million photographs all over the table. Mostly of nature, but there were others of Rick, Charlie and the other guys down at the station. Against the inner wall of the room were storage cabinets and shelves filled with photography equipment and several cameras. At the very back of the room was another door that led into a small dark room. Isabella was surprised that Daryl was interested in photography. She was amazed at all the beautiful photographs, he really seemed to be able to capture the hidden beauty in things. She was very impressed and she, hoped that he would photograph her one day. The left the room and went back into the hallway.

As you rounded the corner at the end of the hallway there was a big kitchen on the front wall. Beside it was an empty room, that must have been the dining room. The sink, main counter and cupboards lined the front wall. There was an island stove in the middle of the kitchen and the refrigerator, other cupboards and counter were on the wall that separated the house and the garage. There were dirty dishes and takeout containers everywhere. A round table and 4 chairs sat on the other side of the island stove. On top was a laptop and some files. Straight ahead there was a doorway that led out to the garage. On the inside wall that faced the kitchen were several gun safes, several large knives and a crossbow hanging on a hook. Isabella figured he’d probably have weapons, he was a hunter and a country boy, but she never expected him to have so many.

On the back side of the house was the living room. As they walked from the kitchen area into the that room, off to the right there was a sliding glass door that led to a covered patio. This was set behind the garage. There were two sofas. One faced the back wall and windows and the other sat on the wall that bordered the bedroom with the deer heads. Next to the sliding glass door was a huge stone fireplace with a very large mounted deer head above it. Along the back wall sat a huge flat screened TV that stood on its own and in the corner, next to the sofa was a camouflage covered recliner. There was a glass coffee table and one end table that sat between the sofa and recliner. In front of the sofa was a makeshift bed. It looked like there was a thin mattress on the floor, covered with sheets, blankets and pillows. The living room was a mess, too. There were books and magazines all over the place. Dozens of beer bottles sat on the coffee table along with two or three ashtrays full of cigarette butts. There was no art or pictures on any of the walls and the carpet in the living room was filthy.

“It’s dirty. Sorry. I woulda’ cleaned a little if I knew I was bringin’ ya’ over today, but I didn’t.” Daryl said embarrassed.

“It just needs a little tlc and elbow grease, that’s all.” Isabella said, smiling and looking around. “I could clean it for you, if you want.” She offered.

“What? Nah. I’ll get around to it. I know it looks pretty bad, but it ain’t like I got people comin’ over all the time or nothin’.” He said.

“Well, I think it’s great. I can’t believe you built this with your own two hands. You must be so proud.” Isabella smiled. “Do you sleep here in the living room? You don’t have a bed?” She asked.

“I ain’t gotta’ bed. I just crash here on the floor.” He said, pointing to the pile of blankets on the floor. “I gotta’ lot of work to still do around here, but I ain’t in no hurry.”

“What’s out here?” Isabella said, looking out the sliding glass door.

“It’s a patio. Go on out and look, if ya’ want.” He said, pulling the door open.

She stepped outside on to a beautiful covered patio, with a couple of picnic tables and a porch swing on it. There was a huge grill near the door and lots of tools and auto parts lying around. At the end of the patio were steps that led down into a tree covered yard, where there were more tools and auto parts. The back of the house was all forest. Isabella turned and smiled at Daryl. Daryl lit up a cigarette and followed her around.

“You’ve got yourself a real piece of heaven, here. I love it. Do you ever have parties out here?” she asked, looking around the patio. “You could hang string lights along here.” She said, pointing to the rafters. “You could put a bar along this wall or just one of those galvanized water troughs filled with ice and drinks.”

“Never thought about that.” He replied, snuffing out his cigarette on one of the picnic tables.

She smiled and they walked back inside. He showed her the garage, which to her surprise was spotless and well organized. There were cupboards, tool carts, storage cabinets, a work bench, a freezer, another refrigerator a washer and dryer and in the middle of the garage was what looked like a half-built motorcycle. Everything was in its place. She was impressed. They walked back into the house and he closed the door behind them. He grabbed a set of keys off a hook on the wall, next to the door. He took one of the keys off the ring and handed it to Isabella.

“Here.” Daryl said.

“What’s this?” Isabella asked.

“It’s a key to my house in case ya’ ever need ta’ get in and I ain’t here. Ya’ can come over whenever ya’ want. It’ll be clean next time. I promise.” He said.

She smiled and took the key. “Thank you. I’d like to come and visit you sometimes. That would be fun.” She said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back and motioned for her to follow him. They walked into the big bedroom with the double doors. He led her to the back of the room where there was another doorway leading into another room. He pushed opened the door and let her walk past. It was the other bathroom. She was completely surprised. It was a beautiful bathroom with a separate bathtub and shower. The bathtub was a big old fashioned tub with feet. It had a high faucet that was set in the middle and it was deep and looked very comfortable. There was a pretty vanity and sink over in the corner with a window that overlooked the other side of the yard. This room was dusty, but in perfect condition. It was so different than the rest of the house.

“This room doesn’t look like it belongs with the rest of the house. It looks like a woman’s bathroom. Did you have a girlfriend when you built it?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“Nah, I built it for a woman though. I figured that I if I ended up sellin’ it, it could be a house for a family and shit. I thought a wife or somethin’ would like a bathroom like this. It would be like a sellin’ point, ya’ know whatta’ I mean?” He said proudly.

“That’s very good thinking, Daryl. It’s a beautiful bathroom. If I were a wife or something, I would most definitely want a room like this. You were smart.” She said, making him feel good. “What’s in these boxes?” she asked, walking back into the bedroom.

“Just a bunch a junk, I gotta’ go through and sort out. Most of it’ll probably end up in the trash. Just ain’t gotten around ta’ messin’ with it yet, that’s all.” He explained.

“If you need help, I’m always around.” She said, playfully.

He smiled at her and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” They left the bedroom and walked back into the entryway. “Well, that’s it. Whatta’ ya’ wanna’ do now?” He asked.

Isabella shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“We could go back ta’ Rick’s and practice swimmin’, if ya’ want.” Daryl offered.

“I would like that a lot, but I don’t have a swimsuit.” She answered.

“What about Lori, she’s probably got one, right?” He asked.

She furrowed her brow a little and explained that you weren’t supposed to wear someone else’s bathing suits and things like that. Daryl didn’t know that, but it made sense to him, once he thought about it.

“Ya’ wanna’ go to the mall and get yerself a suit? They gotta’ lotta’ stores there. I’m sure you could find somethin’ ya’ like.” He assured her.

“I only have $85.00 left. My brother made me pay for my train ticket down here out of my $200.00, but I guess I could find one that I can afford. What do you think?” she asked him.

“I think yer brother’s a dick, but yeah, I’m sure ya’ can find somethin’. They got all kinds a stores in there. Come on rabbit, let’s go.” He said, pushing her playfully towards the door. She giggled and let him steer her out onto the front porch. He turned and locked the door and they headed to the truck.

“I gotta’ get somethin’ to swim in too. I ain’t got no suit, either. I usually just swim in my drawers or… butt naked.” He laughed. They climbed into the truck and headed to the mall. “We’ll stop for lunch afterwards, ok. I gotta’ great little diner I go ta’ on Sundays. Ya’ ever eat chicken fried steak?” he asked her as they drove down the road.

“No. Is that veal?” She asked, concerned. “Because I don’t want to eat tortured baby cow.”

“Nah, it’s just a tenderized piece of beef. It’s good, you’ll like it. I ain’t gonna’ make ya’ eat no tortured baby cow.” He said laughing at her. She laughed and punched him in the arm. A tenderized piece of beef, why not? She’d try anything once. Anything but tortured baby cow.

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