#the rest of my day is gonna be a loop of franks mouth

[frnkiebby]

yeah mmhmm yep yes of course absolutely~🎃

edit: i was informed that these gifs were made by transjudas pls give your love to this post instead bc they killed it with these gifs.

[rdiowx]

Kinktober day three

Edging with Frank Iero

This chapter is all about frank so readers gender really isn’t mentioned

Warnings!: none besides edging i think, frank being an anal virgin 💔 sorta short also its not proofread ive been at work all day

Sat on your knees between franks thighs is where you had spent the last 20 minutes, teasing him, you hadn’t even touched his cock yet. You wanted to see him desperate, broken even. His legs were shaking but this was his fault in the first Place, he made the bet and he was paying the price. The bet was that he could last an hour and a half without cumming while you teased him, he’s barley holding up after 20 minutes and he’s come close to cumming twice. Right now your hands were resting on his thighs and you were teasing him, telling him how pathetic he looked from your view and trying to keep his trembling under control with your hands. It wasn’t working.

“C’mon Frank seriously, you’re the one who raised the time thirty minutes because an hour was ‘too easy’.” You teased him, drawing air quotes with your fingers despite the whine that came from frank as your hands left him. “Okay- fuck you i can do this.” He spat, his teeth clenched and his head fell back as you palmed him through his pants. “You haven’t even let me take your pants off.” You reminded, tugging at one of the belt loops. “Sh- just shut up.” He scrambled to take his jeans off, you were surprised they didnt have a wet spot on them by now, his boxers sure did though.

When they got to his thighs you helped him, taking them off completely and throwing thwm behind you as you go to work. You could see the outline of his cock through the now soaked boxers, it made you laugh to yourself a little as you drug your finger up the side of it. He whined as you did so, trying to keep his hips still. “You know what happens if you fail this right?” You queried, moving your hands to his knees to rest as you looked up at him. “You are not- fucking me!” He half yelled half whined as you squeezed his cock. “This relationship is supposed to be equal Frank, you should let me do the fucking sometime. I think i know, i think You’re afraid You’re gonna cum too soon.” You teased as you released your grip on his cock and tried to reach your hand into his boxers but you couldn’t before frank grabbed your hand and called you out for cheating.

“No- im not gonna cum too soon that’s ridiculous.” He shot back, putting the hand you tried to get into his boxers with on his knee. “Then…maybe you’re just a coward!” You replied, a little teasing edge on your voice as you looked up to him seeing him glare at you. “Oh my god, are you a virgin?” You asked in awe, moving your hands back to his thighs once again. “What- no? we’ve had sex multiple times.” He replied fidgety, you didnt know if it was Because of the lack of attention or because he just got caught red handed. you cut him off again. “Oh my god! You are! Wow that makes so much sense, now im really gonna win this bet.” You smirked at the end of your sentence moving your hands back to his cock.

“By the way, hours up its time to take your boxers off honey.” You chuckled as you watched him begrudgingly take his boxers off, it took everything you had to not jump him as soon as they were down enough to show his cock. Instead you waited patiently before doing your part and throwing them behind you. You got to work quickly, you were set on winning now. Frank watched nervously as you leaned closer to his cock, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip before sucking it softly, just trying to get a whine out of him. You hummed around him, knowing he loved the way the vibration felt against his cock, that got a moan out of him quickly.

“That has to be cheating!” He yelled as his voice cracked at the end to which you just shot him a look telling him to shut up while you worked. He listened but you could tell he wasnt very happy about it, it didnt last long before he got distracted as you took him into your mouth a bit more. You brought one of your hands up to squeeze his base as you worked on the rest. He was trying his hardest not to crack and he knew you could tell, you smirked to yourself mentally praising yourself as you felt him squirm his noises growing in volume.

You loved his noises, you could make a album out of them and listen to them on loop. All it took was you running your tounge under the tip of his cock for him to release into your mouth with a strangled groan before falling back onto the bed, obviously aware he lost the bet. You swallowed before getting up from your knees and crawling over frank to press a kiss to his jaw. “You’re gonna be really mad when i tell you, you only has five minutes left.” You laughed as he pushed you away, you fell to the side of him before kissing his face again. “Thats not fair.” He groaned, looking in your direction. “All’s fair in love and war.”

[partypoisonzz]

i just want to break you down so badly (in the worst way) (mikey way x reader)

Kinktober Day 10: Dry Humping

Reader Pronouns: None mentioned, but reader has AFAB anatomy

Era: Revenge Era (2005)

Content:

- Sleepy tour bus grinding

- Mikey getting way too fucking into it

- More Pen-typical sappy shit

Word Count: 1,922

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

-

It's freezing on the bus. You can barely keep your eyes open as you feel the road passing beneath you. You only have the vaguest idea of where you're headed. Michigan, maybe.

You could easily wrap your blanket tighter around you and fall into a peaceful slumber. Still, you stay awake, waiting until the sound of myriad conversations dwindle and eventually stop completely outside of your bunk.

Once everything has gone completely silent, you venture out.

Mikey is exactly where you expected him to be. You smile to yourself, taking in the sight of him curled up on the seat next to the window, already drifting off. Your lips brush gently against the edge of his jaw as you settle into the spot next to him, nestling yourself against his side.

Mikey shifts slightly as you lay your head against his shoulder. Sleepy hazel eyes crack open behind his glasses and shift into your direction, followed by his voice, raspy from sleep. "Hey."

You grin. "Hey yourself," you mutter through the dark before leaning further back into him with a contented sigh. "Hell of a show, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. I'd say so." He loops a long arm around your shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. Your ear falls over his chest, close enough for you to feel his heartbeat, slow and steady against your cheek. He sighs, his fingers dancing idly up your side. "I'm fucking exhausted."

You chuckle, squirming playfully against him. "Poor Mikey," you tease. "Soooo tired after barely moving the whole night."

"It's gonna be one of those nights, huh?" he asks. "I'd like to see you get up there and try dodging Frank. That's a workout in and of itself. Not to mention the fact that my bass weighs..."

You roll your eyes. "Thirteen fucking pounds," you cut in. "Yeah. I know."

"Feeling a little bitter tonight, are we?" You squeal as one of Mikey's freezing cold hands climbs under the hem of your T-shirt. You know what's coming next as his fingertips dig into your side. Still, when he begins tickling you, you gasp and squirm against him as though you've suddenly found yourself fighting for your life.

"Come on. Spit it out," he presses as you attempt to stifle your giggles, struggling against him as he presses his hand against your hip, attempting to hold you down. "You're ticked off 'cause I've been too busy to give you my undivided attention the past few nights? 'Cause you've had to share me?"

"Fuck you," you manage in between chuckles, pushing back against him. "I don't like you that much."

That's a total lie, of course. Luckily for you, you know without a shadow of a doubt that Mikey will call you on your bullshit.

"Is that so?" His fingers still against your side before he pulls his hand away. You flinch slightly as that same hand travels up to rest against your cheek. You resist the urge to lean into his touch as his calloused thumb brushes lightly against your skin.

Your heart hammers hard against your ribcage as his eyes meet yours, his lips quirking up into the crooked grin that has been steadily destroying you since day one.

Despite the air of confidence that comes along with his smile and touch, his gaze is soft as his eyes connect with yours. "Yeah, right," he mutters. "People don't look at people who they don't like much like that."

You sigh shakily. "Fine. You got me." Before he can say anything else, you lean in, pressing your lips against his.

As much as you need him to shut his pretty mouth, you need that pretty mouth on yours even more. You sigh into his mouth as his tongue slips past your lips, fumbling blindly to pull him closer to you as your eyes flutter shut.

That's the infuriating thing about Mikey. No matter how close you are to him, it never seems like enough. He can be inside you even, completely overwhelming every last one of your senses, but you never feel like you have quite enough of him. You could always handle just a little bit more.

That's love, you guess. Not that you're telling him that.

You pull away with a gasp, shifting your body closer to his. You've somehow ended up in his lap, his arms looping protectively around your waist.

You gnaw slightly at your kiss-swollen lips as your mind runs wild. More than anything, you're wishing that there wasn't a layer of clothes between the two of you right now, but you know better than to even consider taking things as far as you want them to go in the crowded bus. If someone were to wake up to get water or go the bathroom to find you and Mikey naked and tangled up in one another, you would never live it down.

Then again, you can't exactly bring yourself to just go back to sleepily cuddling right now, either.

You simply let your mouth wander along with your mind, head dipping to rest between his shoulder and neck. You nip lightly at his sensitive skin, embracing his high-pitched sound of surprise before beginning to work on sucking a hickey in a rather-obvious place.

"I'm just a little disappointed that, when I finally get some time alone with you, you're sooo sleepy," you say as you pull back. "I really want to make the most out of the time that we have. That's kind of hard when you're drifting off..."

He chuckles, the sound travelling through your body as his chest presses against yours. "I'm awake now. Trust me." Tentatively, he leans in, slowly moving to close the distance between you once again.

Impatient, you meet him halfway, kissing him with a sort of fervor that, judging by the way that his breath hitches, even takes him aback. After a while, he catches up with your steadily-increasing intensity. His large hands come to rest on either side of your hips, wrapping around your waist. The unspoken protectiveness of the gesture drives you wild, urging you to kiss him harder.

You don't notice that you're rocking your hips against him until Mikey groans into your mouth. It's only then that you realize that you've fallen into a slow, steady rhythm.

You bite back your grin as you feel the outline of his cock, pressing against your thigh. You shift slightly against him, causing him to throw his head back with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," he mutters.

That sound is enough to make you painfully aware of just how wet you are.

You roll your hips against him again, harder this time. More deliberate. His vice grip on your hips is all the encouragement you need to continue.

"Christ," Mikey mutters before his lips crash against yours again.

You can't help but moan as he pulls you forward, returning your desperate movements in kind. The denim of your jeans creates a delicious friction. The movement of your mouths against each other's comes to match the rhythm of your hips, steady and dirty and intense.

You gasp against his lips as his hands climb under your shirt again, this time crawling up to cup your tits. Your nipples harden as the pads of his thumbs brush over them, inspiring a high-pitched whine in the back of your throat.

"Mikey," you whimper against his lips before your head falls to the side, coming to rest on his shoulder again. Your movements begin to lose their rhythm as his hands knead your breasts and his lips move against your now completely prone neck. Your eyes fall closed as the feeling washes over you, engulfing your entire body in warmth.

You vaguely register the sound of Mikey moaning your name under his breath before suddenly going deathly still underneath you.

Your eyes flicker open again as Mikey lets out a broken moan. His hips suddenly buck up against you, inspiring a small gasp to crawl up your throat as you feel the outline of his hard-on press against your clothed pussy.

You feel a sudden rush of warmth beneath you. Eyes going wide, you lift your head, glancing downwards as Mikey's chest heaves against yours.

Though the answer is quite obvious, you're too stunned not to ask the question. "Did you just..."

Mikey pulls his hands out of your shirt to hold them in front of his face. Even in the dark, you know without a shadow of a doubt that he's turning bright red. "Shut up," he mutters.

You laugh incredulously. "I made you come in your pants," you say. "Fuck, that's so fucking hot."

Mikey spreads his fingers, peering through the crack. "It's embarrassing," he says. "I haven't done that since high school."

You giggle, attempting to pry his hands away from his face. "It's hot," you insist. "I made you lose control. Nothing sexier than that."

Finally seeming to concede, Mikey huffs out a chuckle. "I lost control there, for sure," he says. "Now, since I'm not a total jerk, I plan on returning the favor."

Your breath hitches as he reaches out to snap the button and pull the zipper down on your jeans, fingers dipping between the waistband of your panties.

You lift your hips as he dips two fingers inside of you. Almost instantly, he crooks them against the exact right place.

You whimper, fingertips digging into the fabric of Mikey's T-shirt as he sets a consistent rhythm as though it was nothing.

It's moments like these when you believe that fucking a bassist is one of the best decisions that you've ever made. Not only are his fingers incredibly long, but they're ridiculously precise and skilled.

Mikey watches your face the entire time that he's fingering you, gauging your reaction with just as much intensity as he pursues the act itself. Your sounds of desperation soon begin to match the rhythm of his movements as his fingertips press insistently against your G-spot.

You know that you're done for by the time he starts talking. "That's it," he encourages you. "Come for me. Wanna see you fall apart."

Fuck if that isn't the hottest thing that he's ever said to you.

As soon as he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs a couple of slow circles, it's all over. You come around his fingers with a broken moan and an almost-violent tremor. You can't help but wish you were milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through you, your walls rhythmically tightening around Mikey's fingers.

Finally, you relax, going limp in his arms. An involuntary whimper passes your lips as Mikey pulls his fingers out of you. You can't complain, however, as those same drenched fingers pass his lips. His eyes stay connected with yours as he licks his fingers before pulling back with a pop.

You sigh shakily, head falling against his chest.

For a while, the two of you are silent. All you can hear is the sound of your slowly-evening breathing and Mikey's steady, slowing heartbeat, along with the constant passing of the highway underneath you.

Before you can think it through, the confession slips out. "I think I'm in love with you."

Mikey leans down, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. "I know I'm in love with you."

He says it so easily. Like it's nothing.

It's everything, you think to yourself as you begin to drift off, face sore from the smile that spreads across your lips.

-

Taglist (Ask to be included!):

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @yachiiko @enchantinghouseofwh0res @dangerouslittlefairy

[buckyhoney]

𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐟.𝐜

a/n: im a whore for this man, he can whatever the fuck he wants to me & i’d thank him

based on these little blurbs i did #1 #2

pairing: frank castle x needy!reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! however, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!

18+ warning

warnings: 18+, language, unprotected sex, bondage, overstimulation, masturbation (f), degrading kink, light praising kink, use of sex toys, sorry for any missed typos!

words: 1.2k

the last couple of days, you've been needier than normal. craving his coarse palms on your body- roaming. wanted him to throw you around like a rag doll- be his little fuck toy.

embarrassed to ask him, you kept quiet- and your legs squeezed shut. determined to let whatever this overwhelming need for him to pass. masturbating, when he went to the store or to finish business with god, knows who. the moment you heard the door rustling, your fingers disappearing from your clit.

the vibrator and toys sit in frank's end table drawer- taunting you.

frank knew. oh, he knew by the way you wouldn't be as affectionate with him. quick pecks and no cuddling or hands on him. frank was smart enough to know how much you needed him.

he found enjoyment in seeing you worked up, trying to prove you didn't need him- but he wasn't gonna let you off easy.

the less touchy you became, the more he became- kissing your neck, rubbing your inner thigh, doing pull-ups in the doorway of your bedroom, and whispering how much he wanted to stretch out your pussy and how he wanted to see you cry from how good he made you feel.

his favorite was when he'd graze over your clit when you were laying bed, slowly rubbing circles with his thumb. when he'd hear your small pants and your hips gently roll into his fingers- he'd just get up and go make breakfast or grab a drink.

he loved seeing the concentration on your face- trying to calm yourself down, squirming ever so lightly.

torturing you was his favorite activity.

the moans and whines left your mouth carelessly- loud and desperate to cum. the frustration boiled over and you couldn't take it anymore. you're on the bed, sprawled out with the wand pressed to your clit.

lost in your own little world and the sounds of your whines, you didn't hear the door open and close.

frank chuckles to himself, you had finally cracked- and he was going to have his fun with you.

frank dropped the keys on the kitchen counter and his bag by the door. the shirt he was wearing lands on the floor.

"i knew you'd crack eventually," the rugged voice causes you to jolt and lose your orgasm.

"fuck you frank! i was so close!" the pathetic whine makes him chuckle.

"don't worry, i'll have you begging me to stop," he crouches down, pulling the rope from underneath the bed.

"frank..." the warning tone doesn't phase him- he continues to fix the knot on the loops on the end of the headboard.

"wanna cum or not? cause i can leave," you wished he was joking, but he was serious. he'd leave you tied up and crying from how many times he edged you.

"no. i wanna cum," you grumble and pout.

soon, your wrists and ankles are tied down, leg spread wide. when you thought being tied was going to be the worst part of the night, you saw the wand in his hand and the ducted tape.

the two items, soaking you instantly.

pulling on a piece of duct tape long enough to wrap around your thigh, frank places the vibrator (that is still on) on your clit.

"oh shit!" a smirk is plastered on his face; he wraps the tape around your thigh and around the wand- securing it down.

once satisfied with the placement, he turns the toy up a few notches. chills cover your body, pebbling your nipples.

removing the rest of his clothes, frank sits in the chair in the corner of the room. watching you twitch and jerk your hips. your eyes could barely stay open as the first orgasm rolls over you.

"frank! please!" the arousal drip on the sheets, leaving a wet spot.

frank just watches you plead and eyes rolling back. it became hard to think about anything else other than the pleasure between your thighs. your dripping hole pulsing around nothing- your chest is heavy as you're gasping for breath.

"frank- i-i want you, please- turn it- turn it off!" every few words, you're interrupted by a cry- the vibrations make your legs tremble.

by the end of your second orgasm, you're yanking on the restraints and begging for him to turn it off. frank just sits, slowly stroking himself.

"ah, i think you can give me one more, just one more than you can have this cock- how does that sound?" he's taunting you, knowing that you can barely speak.

the pornographic sob and your back arching tells frank your third orgasm rolls through you. he can see your legs shaking and hears your blubbering whines.

"attagirl! i knew you could give me a third," he beams proudly at your heaving chest and sweaty body.

he switches off the toy he grabs the towel from the chair. whipping away the access juices, he cups your sopping wet cunt- bringing your body down while you're gasping for air, tugging on the restraints

as your body recovers from the assault on your now swollen, clit- frank unties your wrists and ankles.

"i fucking hate you," is all you manage to mumble.

"keep telling yourself that," he hovers over your body, looking down at the mess in between your thighs.

"what a filthy girl, i just cleaned you up, and you're already dripping," dipping his hand between your thighs,

underneath him, frank positions his cock at your hole. your legs wrapped around his torso- bucking your hips into his. he enters you slowly before he thrusts at an agonizingly slow pace.

building you up all the way- just to pull you down by pulling completely out. the pathetic attempts of jerking your hips upwards to get some relief made him laugh,

"i stop for a second, and you try to fuck yourself?" he rams into you, filling you entirely. the sudden fullness makes your eyes roll back and your back arch.

"that what you wanted?" the inability to make a noise only makes the teasing worse.

back inside you, your walls clench around his cock- squeezing him. frank grunts with every thrust. your grip around his cock pushes him closer to his high but holding back till you cum again.

you've entered another world; your hips meet his half way- desperate to be filled again.

"my cock making you feel that good? you can't even answer me?" the taunting only makes you whine- the only sound you can manage to make.

each thrust is deep and slow; you feel every inch. he looks at the nonverbal, blabbering mess below him,

the smile widens on his face,

"my pretty little whore cock drunk?" leaning down, he kisses the side of your neck.

wrapping your arms around him, you close any gaps of space between you. the fourth orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave. the incoherent moans and words fall from your mouth, your cunt contracting uncontrollably.

the pleasure numbs the rest of your body- your nails sinking into his back. the combination of your cunt contracting around him and the pain from your nails sends him hurdling into his own orgasm.

frank grunts and shoots ropes of cum into your cunt- pumping you full.

he holds himself there for a moment, allowing you to milk him dry. pulling out of you and collapsing next to you, frank kisses your shoulder,

"if you need me, you need to tell me- as much as i love seeing you worked up- i love seeing that cunt full even more."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, drunkenness, some content not warned.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: This is it for Sam and it will give me a chance to start plotting Frank and Peter’s storylines but no promises on when those will be touched. I’m still sorting through ideas.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 7: It’s a shame to leave this masterpiece

💀💀💀

As you came up to The Asp, you felt better than you had in days. The blend of alcohol in your stomach blurred the old brick buildings of the small town and buffed out the peeling paint of the image of the ancient Queen. The girls giggled behind you in a similar state, ready to celebrate the occasion.

You were the first inside as you stumbled past the man smoking at the doors. He was clothed in leather like any of the others within. You hit the table with your hip as you came into the barroom and kicked it as it wobbled.

“Sup, bitches?” you announced your presence as the other girls entered behind you and laughed raucously at the introduction.

Your eyes met Sam’s as you looked around. He sat with those other men, Bucky tilted his head in disbelief at you and Steve stood as his girl came up to lean on your arm and slur, “let’s put some good music on!”

“Yeah!” the rest of you chimed in unison, “and more drinks!”

“Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks,” Bucky’s girl and the mechanic chanted as the crossed to the bar and you staggered with the third to the old jukebox.

“Jesus, you got anything made in the last three decades?” you chirped as you heard the scrape of chairs and a low mutter.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bucky demanded and you glanced over as you hit a button.  The disco beat rose as the bartender with the dyed hair poured a line of shots, “you are all drunk.”

“No, we’re ready for a good time!” you sang as you bopped to the beat and Steve’s girl began to wiggle oddly. You supposed that was dancing, power to her.

“You,” Bucky turned on you, “this is your fault--”

“It’s a special night,” Sam stepped up, “they’re having fun.”

“They’re making a scene,” Bucky growled.

“There’s hardy anyone here, or anyone sober enough to care,” Sam rolled his eyes as he smirked at you. You stuck out your tongue and brushed by Bucky as the shot glasses stood ready.

“Some for them,” you jabbed your thumb over your shoulder, “buncha tight asses!”

You lifted a dark brown shot and tried not to spill it as you neared Bucky. He was still scary in your tipsy delight but you didn’t care enough to back off.

“Do it,” you leaned towards him, “chill out, bruh.”

Sam snorted as Steve steadied his girl and spoke quietly as she ignored him and mouthed the words to the Donna Summers song. He was failing to hold her attention as her eyes rounded at the drink in your hand then flitted to the bar as another four were added to the row.

“Really,” the slender dark-haired man leaned an elbow on the bar as he peered down his nose at the mechanic, “this is unseemly.”

“Double for him,” you cried out and grabbed Bucky’s hand to wrap around the shot glass, “consider it an apology from me, boss.”

You patted his shoulder and turned away to near the prim man with his stuffy accent.

“Do you prefer a pint? What do they drink in tight-ass-opia?” you snickered and his brows arched. The mechanic slid a shot towards him and nudged you away with her arm.

“Drink,” she challenged him as she took her own, “you bitch.”

Your mouth fell open at her blatant defiance and Loki’s green eyes flickered as he lifted his chin. The song changed but it was another upbeat melody you recognized. The tall man took the shot from the mechanic and drank it smoothly before carefully setting the glass back down.

“This is a birthday party,” you said, “where’s the cake?”

“Yeah, why didn’t I get a cake?” Steve’s girl shoved him, “that’s bullshit.”

“Sweetie,” he warned and she sidled past him to claim a shot.

“It’s my birthdayyyyy,” she drawled, “I’m doing what I want--” she paused to choke down the shot and turned on him again, “and you’re not my daddy so I’m gonna have fun. You’re welcome to join or fuck off.”

There was a silence as you all stared at the usually soft-spoken woman. She pointed to her empty glass and the bartender. 

“Alright, that’s enough--” Bucky began.

“Hey,” a woman with reddish blonde hair stepped up in a leather jacket, “pour me a shot.”

“Wanda,” he warned.

“Jeez, Buck,” she reached forward to take the newly poured liquor, “they’re right. This place is usually dead. What’s one night?”

“Yeah, one night,” Bucky’s girl intoned, “take the shot, take the shot, take the shot…” She neared him and pushed her finger against the bottom of the shot glass, “just do it.”

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He knocked it back sharply and cleared his throat.

“You guys are cleaning up the mess,” he muttered.

“You’re gonna help us make it,” she threw her arms up as the jukebox got louder and you looked over as Steve’s girl held her finger down on a button, “hey, I love this song!”

💀

The night never quite slowed down so you couldn’t say it took a sharp turn. The bar was a frenzy of music and alcohol. You could tell by the pulsing ring in your vision you would feel it the next morning, even if you didn’t remember any of it.

You were enshrined in the glow of your own intoxication as the bar cleared for a moment. There were bodies all over, talking, moving, dancing. You blinked past Sam who was all too eager to join in, an excuse to have his hands all over you. You leaned on him as a ‘whoo’ stabbed your eardrums.

You blinked as Bucky’s girl came clearer. She was on the pool table, writhing around a cue like a stripper. The man who called himself her keeper reached for her ankle and she kicked him away as Wanda cheered her on.

You giggled and looked over at the cushioned bench against the wall behind the table. You were shocked and yet not as the mechanic had her tongue halfway down the baker’s throat. The two girls were locked together in the din of the room. 

Loki sat on the other side of the table but his head lolled back and his long legs were splayed before him. He was likely passed out. Another figure approached and you tried to move past Sam as he clung to you and turned with to look over at the scene.

Steve grabbed the mechanic’s arm and tugged on her but she kept her other hooked around his girl. She yanked away from him and he did it again.

“Get off her,” he snarled.

“Fuck off, dude,” she parted for one second to utter the deterrent before she started at it again, drawn back hungrily by the other woman.

“Let em do it,” Sam called out, “that’s hot as fuck.”

You hushed him and Steve seized the mechanic again. This time he was met by a fist as she came up swinging, leaving his girl against the bench. She caught him in the chest and then the jaw and swiftly looped her arm around his neck as she bent him over. He jabbed at her side and she grunted drunkenly and stomped his foot.

“Hey!” you rushed forward and Sam’s hand fell away as your holler drew the attention of everyone else.

“Eh!” Bucky’s girl hopped down and drunkenly landed with the cue in hand. She pulled it back but was kept from swinging as Bucky followed her towards the scuffle.

You hopped on Steve’s back as the mechanic kept her arm around his neck and his girl came up with senseless eyes. 

“Why are you doing this?” she grumbled, “we were having fun.” She reached out and pulled his hair so he winced, “you’re always on me! Always controlling me!”

“Get off!” Steve grunted as he clawed at the arm around his neck and you tried to pull him off-balance from behind.

A sudden, deafening noise stilled everyone. Steve’s girl slumped back as the cue clattered from the other woman’s grasp and the mechanic released the man in leather as you slid off his back. Sam caught your arm and stilled you as Bucky stood with his gun in hand.

“Enough,” he was drunk himself but mad enough to rage through the alcohol, “enough. Fun is over.”

You all stared at him as he holstered his gun and huffed. The music continued to blare and he stomped over to the jukebox and shut it off.

“Get them out of here!” he barked as he spun back, “you,” he pointed at his girl, “back office. Now.”

Loki was the only one undisturbed as he remained blacked out on the chair. Steve gritted his jaw and snatched up his girl who could barely stand on her own feet. She pouted as he swiped up her coat and shoved it into her arms. He got a curled lip from the mechanic but she let him go.

Sam chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he took your hand, “better pack up… tomorrow’ll be fun.”

You found your coat on the floor and pulled it on as you peeked around Sam. He swayed slightly himself as he leaned a hand on the bar. The mechanic kicked Loki’s chair but he didn’t flinch. She shrugged and left him there, tramping out without looking back. 

Your eyes met Bucky’s as he stopped at the door on the far side of the bar. His eyes met yours as he scowled and you quickly glanced away. You grasped Sam’s arm and hid your fear.

“Let’s go,” you whispered. 

You knew you were in shit again but you were fairly certain, that would never change. You sealed your fate when you walked in that bar the first time.

💀

You woke up to the harsh glare of sunlight. You shielded your face and groaned as you wriggled under the thick arm across your side. Sam hardly moved as you rolled over and sat up with a wince. There were glimmers of the night before but more pressingly, your stomach boiled and bubbled.

You slid out of bed, eyes half-closed as you made your way to the bathroom. You still had your crop top on and nothing else. You knew he fucked you again but had no recollection of it, nothing but the dullness deep in your core. You flipped open the toilet and leaned on the seat. You heaved until the bile splashed down into the bowl.

You finished spewing out your drunken regrets and rinsed your mouth in the sink. You’d never drank that much before and for the first time, you were feeling it beyond the sunrise. You dragged your feet back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. 

Sam remained face down on the bed, his thick back moving slightly as he breathed rhythmically into the pillow. You sat on the end of the mattress and rubbed your cheeks. You vaguely remembered an argument and dancing. You knew it didn’t end well.

You were jarred by a knock at your door and moaned at the nail in your skull. You stood as your nan’s voice rose from the other side.

“Girly, you get out here right now,” she hammered on the wood, “you have company.”

You went to the door and opened it just a crack. She leaned her hand on the it and grimaced.

“I know he’s in there, no use hiding,” she snarled, “both of you, downstairs.” She didn’t hang around for your confusion or arguments. She sniffed as she descended the stairs and muttered, “need another smoke.”

You shut the door and turned around as Sam grunted and his lashes fluttered in grogginess. You took his shirt from the floor and flung it at him.

“What’s up?” he asked sleepily as he caught it and turned his legs over the side of the bed. He was completely naked.

“Someone’s here,” you shrugged as you pulled on a hoodie, “she didn’t say.”

“Mmm,” he rose and fished his jeans from the floor.

He buttoned them and followed you to the door. You held onto the railing tight as you made your way down and you peeked into the kitchen curiously as your nan’s cigarette smoke tickled your nose. Your chest knotted as you saw Bucky sitting at the table, his own face lined with tension as he drank from a mug.

“There they are,” you nan frowned, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Millie,” Bucky raised the hot mug and leaned it against his forehead, “you understand this is… private business.”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotta find that damn cat anyhow,” she retorted harshly, “you make it quick. This is still my house.”

He cleared his throat and waited for her to go. She sucked on her cigarette as she passed you and tutted. She pulled on her jacket and boots and tramped out without another word, the door slamming behind her.

“Sit,” Bucky said.

Sam nudged you and you neared the table and dropped into a chair. Sam went to the counter and poured himself a coffee from the machine. Bucky stared at you as his jaw gritted and he set down his cup.

“It’s clear to me that after last night, Sam has not made things plain to you,” he sent Sam a pointed look as the other man sat, “or maybe you just choose not to understand.”

“What did I do?” you croaked as you longed for a mug of the brew.

“I keep this town in order. Not the club; me.” He ignored your question, “and I am not in the habit of putting up with this type of bullshit.”

“It was just fun--”

“Enough,” he hit the table, “if my lady didn’t like you so much, I would be done with this. Done with you. But out of respect to her and Sam, I will give you one last warning. You get in line or I put you down. You and the old bitch.”

Your skin crawled as you glanced over at Sam. He was sombre and silent, the usual humour completely gone from his face. He nodded at you and then pushed his shoulders back in defeat.

“She’ll behave,” Sam said.

“It’s not just her head if she doesn’t,” Bucky stood, “I like you Sam but you vouched for her. You knew what that meant.”

“She will,” Sam rose as well.

“I’ll see you at The Asp in ten,” Bucky said, “we have business. Real business,” he let out a long breath and looked at you, “just know, the rest of them will be punished too. Just remember, that’s your fault.”

He left without another word and you lowered your chin. You liked the other girls, they were older but they were nice, and it was easy enough to see they were just like you. Trapped and tortured by these men. You were never very good at reading people or a room, but you knew that. You felt it so you saw it in them.

“Well, gotta go,” Sam said, “I’ll be back. We’ll go over everything.”

“Fine,” you replied like a bratty child, “I didn’t… do anything.”

“You won’t do anything,” he girded firmly, “you’re fun but not that fun.”

He retreated upstairs and you got up to pour yourself the last of the pot. You heard the front door and you turned as your nan entered with Pippen slung over her shoulder. She crinkled her nose as she crossed to the counter and leaned beside you.

“That man’s a right ass,” she said, “reminds me of a few back in my day.”

“Mhmm,” you sipped and avoided her gaze guiltily.

“Girly, I know, it’s not your fault. Those men, they always take it too far,” she kept her voice low.

“No, I went down there, I started all this--”

“Whatever you did, it doesn’t warrant this,” she touched your arm, “and those other girls, they didn’t do anything worse than you.”

“Nan, you can’t--”

“All I want you to do is play along,” she said as her jaw clenched, “and tell those girls, they need anything, they come here; a meal, an ear, a place to sleep… and you tell them I dealt with these men before. They don’t change over the years.”

“Nan?” your mouth fell open and you scoffed in disbelief.

“One day,” she raised a finger, “there’ll be a change and those men don’t know what they got comin’. A woman’s best weapon is patience.”

You eyed your nan as she pet Pippin and went to the fridge to pull out the open can of tuna and feed him a shred. He took it from her fingers as she set it on the counter and he hopped off to eat directly from the tin.

“Don’t look so stupid,” she lifted a brow and paused to look up as you heard Sam above, “you got some smartenin’ up to do. A lot.”

END

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

[arrowflier]

A fic prompt if you'd like: Mickey opening up to Ian about details of his childhood and the abuse he suffered. In 11x06 after Terry is brought home Mickey says he could do anything to him now like "piss on him and let him air dry" and "use his mouth as an ash tray". To me it sounds like those are examples of things that Terry has done to him.

Content warning: child abuse

the things he did

“You’re so much better than that.”

Ian’s words echoed in Mickey’s head while the cooked dinner together. They resonated as they sat side by side at the table to eat, shoulders brushing, rings glinting in the harsh lights of the kitchen. They played on loop as they retired to the living room, alone for once with everyone else out for the night who knew where, sitting close on the sofa as mindless sitcoms droned on from the television.

“What if I’m not?” Mickey asked abruptly, when it got to be too much.

Ian turned to look at him, face full of shadows in the blue light from the tv.

“What if you’re not what?” he questioned, confused, and Mickey shifted away from him, bringing a knee onto the sofa between them to face his husband.

“Not better than that,” he answered, and saw Ian realize what he was talking about. It was in the way his eyes softened in that harsh light, the way his lips turned down at the thought that Mickey might question himself.

He always took it personally when Mickey did that.

“You are, Mickey,” Ian reassured instantly, just as expected. “I know you are.”

Mickey shook his head, looking down. His fingers scratched at the label of his beer, tearing it from the condensation-wet bottle.

“You don’t,” he said quietly. “No one fucking does.” He shook his head, looked up again into Ian’s green eyes. “You don’t just come away from a life like that and turn out alright.”

Ian looked like he wanted to argue. His chin was already pushing out, his lips pressed tight and thin.

Mickey didn’t give him a chance.

“If you knew half the things he did to us, man,” Mickey laughed humorlessly, averting his gaze again. “He should be on death row right now, not sitting next door with a roof over his fuckin’ head.”

“Tell me,” Ian prompted softly, but Mickey shook his head.

“You don’t want to hear this shit, Ian.” At least, Mickey didn’t want him to hear it. Didn’t want him to think of Terry when he looked at Mickey’s face.

“I do though,” Ian countered easily. “Wanna know everything about you, Mick.”

He was always saying things like that. Always trying to challenge the barriers Mickey put up.

But Mickey always challenged his, too, so he supposed that it was a fair enough trade.

“Fuckin’ sap,” Mickey said anyway, glancing up at Ian’s face and down again. “Gonna change what you think of me,” he added more quietly, and bit his lip at how pathetic it made him sound.

“Mickey,” Ian said. That was it, just his name. But it made things better, somehow. “Nothing can change how I feel about you,” Ian went on. “Besides, I was there for some it, remember?”

Mickey snorted, and took a swig of beer.

“How could I fuckin’ forget?”

They sat in silence for a long moment, only the sound of the clock ticking behind them and the strains of an annoying jingle on the TV filling the room. Ian didn’t scoot any closer, didn’t ask Mickey again. He just sat in his presence, calming sipping his own drink, and waited Mickey out.

It was a technique that never failed him.

“It wasn’t too bad when our mom was there,” Mickey started out of nowhere. “She was strung out most of the time, but she cared, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, scratched his neck. “At least in her own way.”

“And when she wasn’t?” Ian prompted gently. Not pushing, just providing a guiding hand.

Mickey shook his head. “When she wasn’t, things really went to hell.”

A beat. The TV had changed over to some new infomercial, an obnoxiously eager voice droning on about the ‘next best thing’, whatever that was. Mickey ignored it. They both did.

“Iggy and Colin were already used to it, I think,” Mickey expanded. “They were around more the first few times she left, when Mandy and I were still in school. They knew what was coming when she was gone for good.”

Ian made a sound, deep in his throat. He set down his glass on the coffee table, overlapping the multitude of condensation rings that already marred the surface, and grabbed up the carton of cigarettes that lay there. He lit it with a spare lighter, took a drag, and passed it over to Mickey’s waiting hand.

“What about you?” he asked casually. Too casually for the way his fingers shook when Mickey took the cigarette from him.

Mickey scoffed. “Me?” he repeated, then took a drag himself. He held it in as long as he could, breathed it out in a plume of smoke that hid the new wetness in his eyes.

“I was a naive little shit whose mamma hadn’t warned him how bad Terry could get,” Mickey said, then took another hit.

“The first time he hit me—really hit me, not just a cuff around the ears for mouthing off—he laid me out flat on the kitchen floor. I had eaten the last side of bacon, see,” he explained. “Mandy made it for me after school. And Terry’d been savin’ it for after whatever run he was out on.”

Ian stayed silent.

“Couldn’t tell him it was Mandy’s fault,” Mickey went on. “He didn’t care that she was a girl.” Mickey flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette, watched them fall. Watched the tiny burns it made on the knee of his jeans. “Didn’t care until she was useful.”

Ian swallowed hard at the reminder of what Terry had done to his best friend. But this was about Mickey right now, not Mandy, and as much as she was entrenched in that part of his life, it wasn’t what he needed to get out.

So Ian scooted closer, brushed ashes off Mickey’s knee and rested his hand there, waiting.

Mickey stared at the point of contact, then at his cigarette again.

“You know he used to burn me with these?” Mickey asked abruptly, waving the lit stick in his hand. “Think it was an accident, the first time. Caught me suckin’ on a candy one when I was a kid, told me I needed to man up. Tried to stick a lit one in my mouth, but he was drunk. Used the wrong end.”

He tongued the corner of his lips. “Couldn’t eat for two days while it was healin’.” He chuckled, shook his head. “I was suck a fuckin’ wimp back then, man.”

“Not the worst thing he’s put in my mouth, though,” Mickey continued, on a roll now. His voice was faint, full of that absent quality it got when he wasn’t really there. When he was reliving his nightmares in real time.

“Stumbled into my room more than once looking for the toilet,” he confided. “Forgot there was a second door, I think. He usually just went in the corner, but he got me on my bed more than once.”

Mickey paused, looked up at Ian through his lashes.

“You know why I don’t breathe through my mouth anymore?”

Ian shook his head.

“Wakin’ up to the taste of piss will teach you that trick real quick.”

The cigarette was gone, now, and his beer was only dregs. Mickey stared at a space over Ian’s shoulder, breathing heavy, refusing to let his eyes spill over.

He was done crying for the kid that let his dad walk all over him. He was done crying for Terry. He was done with all of it.

And he really, really wished that were true.

“Frank locked me in the basement, once,” Ian stated suddenly, taking the empty beer bottle out of Mickey’s hand and placing it with his own glass on the table. “During one of my mom’s episodes, when she wouldn’t get out of bed.”

Mickey just looked at him. Let Ian take his hand, turn it over to hold it in his.

“He told Fiona I was at a sleepover, and she believed him—forgot I didn’t really have any friends.” Ian grinned, then, but it was empty, almost sharp.

You had friends, Mickey wanted to say. You had family. You had me.

But the first and the last were lies, and the middle wasn’t always a blessing.

“Lip found me two days later,” Ian told him. “He got suspicious when he saw Frank taking food down there; he was an asshole, but he wasn’t gonna starve a kid on purpose, at least.”

Ian laughed, and rubbed his free hand along the leg of his pants.

“He just didn’t want to look at me.”

Mickey gripped his hand tighter.

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” he asked. “It’s not a fuckin’ competition, man.”

“I’m just saying,” Ian pressed on. “We don’t have to be our dads, Mickey.”

Oh. And there it was. Ian, his husband, ever the optimist.

“What if we don’t get that choice?” Mickey questioned. He’d seen it often enough, after all. Milkoviches that tried to get out, tried to do better for themselves and their kids.

But they always ended up back where they started. They always ended up under Terry’s roof, and under his thumb, just waiting for another chance to break free.

Ian shrugged, and pulled him closer, tucking Mickey’s head into the space between his own neck and shoulder. Mickey made a grumbling sound, but went without protest, tilting his head so that his nose rested near Ian’s collarbone.

“Then I guess we have to kill each other,” Ian stated blandly.

Mickey gave a stunned, barked laugh, breath hitching and releasing in a wash of hot air over Ian’s neck.

“Ian, what the fuck?” he managed, but Ian only gripped him tighter, pressing his face into skin so that he couldn’t speak.

“It’s for the greater good, Mick,” Ian assured him. “Mutually assured destruction, and all that, right?”

He ran a hand down Mickey’s back, scratching lightly.

“I lock you in a basement, you take me out,” he declared. “You piss on me—well, without my permission at least—”

“Ew, Ian, Jesus Christ—”

“I get to murder you in your sleep.” Ian pulled back just enough to look at him, Mickey meeting his eyes without a struggle this time. For all the macabre discussions, Ian’s eyes were bright.

“Deal?” Ian asked, and Mickey finally smiled.

“Yeah, alright, tough guy,” he agreed. “It’s a fuckin’ deal.”

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 13

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His dark chocolate eyes appeared above yours, a soft look in them. He kissed you long and slow, and then you heard him whisper, “But she’ll never catch me, sweetheart. You already got me.”

You gave a low laugh, “You are such a big sap, Russo!”

He laughed back, eyes crinkling up at the corners, “Ssssh! Don’t keep sayin’ that, angel! You’re ruinin’ my rep,” before kissing you again.

He pulled back, eyes gazing into yours, “Wanna pick up where we left off? Before we got rudely interrupted?” You smiled, “Might do.” He unwrapped his towel with a flourish and threw it onto the floor. Your eyes slowly roamed over his masterpiece of a body, and excitement sparked in your veins.

“Don’t mind when you look,” smirked Billy, but then an angry scowl flitted across his face. He looked away from you, “You know when she was stood in front of me?” he looked back as you nodded, “She was looking at me like I was a prime fillet. Covered my equipment cos she was starin’ right at it.”

He leant back as you sat up, saying angrily, “Yeah, I saw you! - that was why?!!! I thought you were reverting to ‘Marine’. Or something.” You huffed out a big breath, “That!... that....!” you were momentarily lost for words. Billy smiled at you, and laid his hand on your cheek, “Yeah, that was why. Look, forget I mentioned it, I just got pissed off again and shouldn’t’ve said anythin’. C’mon, angel - c’mere.”

You let yourself get folded into Billy’s arms, and settled yourself back down on the pillows. Feeling his lips on your neck, you put your head back slightly to give him better access. Those sensuous lips travelled down onto your collarbone, and your eyes closed in pleasure as he nipped at your skin before licking it slowly. His mouth made its way slowly but surely to your breasts, paying close attention to your nipples as it went, circling them with that tongue of his and then sucking until you gasped out little breaths in quick succession.

You were already as wet as the ocean and he’d hardly touched you. Long fingers trailed over your pussy before two pushed inside you, and a very long moan escaped your lips. Billy’s mouth was at your ear, whispering, “D’you like that, angel? How about this?” A third finger joined the other two and you felt the stretch immediately, giving a little squeal, then his thumb was rubbing your clit so firmly you just couldn’t be quiet.... at all.

Then Billy was slinking his way down your body, tongue trailing over you, the feeling of his scratchy beard against your inner thighs announcing the arrival of his head between your legs. Oh my, your brain screeched, this is gonna be very... ! His tongue joined in with all the other action below decks, and your brain fizzled up like a sparkler somebody’d just lit before it could finish the thought.

You grabbed two large handfuls of Billy’s hair and pulled on it for all you were worth, hearing a muffled chuckle from below. “Angel,” you heard next, his voice husky and breathless, “....watch the hair, huh?!” But needless to say, you ignored him. His tongue returned to the fray, and before you could even tug on his hair again your orgasm hit. You felt like you were about to pass out, seeing stars, then could hear a voice chanting his name over and over like a mantra. Oh okay, that was you. You tried to shut your mouth up but it just kept going.

Finally, your head sank right back into the pillows and a long, slow exhalation of breath left your lungs. Billy sat up after flicking his tongue over your pussy and thighs, carefully gathering up all of your juices before smirking at you as you stared back at him, still dazed. He was just getting his breath back, “Did your boyfriend eat you out till you were breathless, sweetheart? Hmmm? Is he a good boyfriend?” You nodded, still not really able to collate your thoughts into words. “Can’t speak, huh? I think your boyfriend needs a really big reward for that. But first he’s gonna give you somethin’ else to think ‘bout.”

His hard length was between your thighs in a heartbeat and he’d assertively guided himself inside you before you could take another breath. Your feet drew up until they were flat on the bed, knees raising themselves of their own accord. The intense feelings of pleasure rolled over you like breakers on the beach. Billy took hold of your ankles, balancing them on his shoulders with his hands going to your hips, pulling you even closer to him, kissing you passionately. One hand came up and laid itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. Your mouths parted and his forehead gently touched yours, then he began moving on you, setting a furious pace with his thrusting.

You gripped his biceps to start with, before heading back to your favourite place - his hair. Running your fingers through it, that made you happy for a little while until you grabbed some with each hand. Over the sighs and moans both of you were making, you heard a low laugh from Billy, “Gettin’ ready to pull my hair, angel?” You gasped as he thrust deeply while he spoke, then ground out “Yeah I am and you can just shut up, Russo,” between your teeth. “Don’t...” he said, breaking off to softly grunt as he thrust at the same time, “...leave me with bald patches, goddess,” he finished.

Which was just as well, because you thought he’d been about to tell you not to pull his hair! That would’ve been a very dangerous thing for Billy to do, ex-Marine or not. So you immediately began to tug on said hair, which brought great contentment to your soul, and you heard Billy’s soft laugh as you did so.

“M’gonna...come, angel,” you heard next, wrapped up in a breathy moan. His hand went to your clit, all the while hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. You could feel your climax building and building, and gave his hair one last loving pull as the orgasm slammed you. Billy fastened his teeth onto your neck where it met your shoulder and bit down, not too hard but still enough to make you yelp, and you felt him tense against you as he came. He collapsed onto you, huffing as he caught his breath before lowering your trembling legs to the bed. He rested his forehead on yours, kissing your nose.

“Holy hell,” he whispered, “that was mind-blowin’, angel.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The two of you slept a little late the next morning, having a leisurely shower together before ordering a big breakfast to the room, your appetites being very healthy indeed after your exercise regime the previous night. The plates and coffee cups were soon clean as whistles.

You were lying on the bed, busy having a giggling fit as Billy peered into the big mirror while angling his head and parting his hair this way and that.

“I swear, angel, if I find even the tiniest bald patch....” but his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror, were twinkling with suppressed laughter. “Oh, Russo...” you gasped, breathless from laughing, “...you really are a big dork!” “Hey... this head of hair’s my crownin’ glory! If any’s missin’, I’ll need to get weaves! An’ you can pay for them!”

You had just launched into more giggles, when there was a loud knock at the door, followed by a gruff “S’Frank, open up Bill.” Scrambling to get into your hotel robe - which you’d earlier dropped on the floor so that Billy could smooth the hotel’s complimentary high-end body lotion over every inch of you - he started heading for the door but was looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You hastily tied the belt round your waist and nodded at him. Luckily Billy had already been in his robe.

“Bill!” came Frank’s voice again, “...get your lazy ass out of bed and open the door!” “Yeah, yeah, Frankie,” Billy yelled back as he reached the door.

But then you noticed that Billy was holding a big black gun behind his back. Oh. Right. The seriousness of the situation last night came back to you, and a little splice of fear ran through you. But soon a big bear of a man was striding into the room, and him and Billy were exchanging manly shoulder grips. Yeah, you would guess they wouldn’t exactly be ‘huggy’ types. Then you saw Karen following in his wake with a big smile on her face, and you jumped up and rushed over to hug her.

Billy introduced you to Frank, and you returned the favour for him and Karen. More coffees were ordered, along with some toast (you were still peckish, okay?) and you all lounged around and chatted while you waited. The guys still couldn’t tell you two very much about the ‘op’, and Karen soon decided to start in on Billy.

“So, Billy,” she began, and he politely turned his head towards her, “....everything still fully intact downstairs?” nodding towards his crotch. Frank snorted, while Billy’s mouth opened and closed, then he looked beseechingly over at you, eyes wide, while you tried not to burst out laughing. Billy had actually gone quite pink, and you found this hilarious. Karen was a past master at this of course, ace reporter that she was. And you hadn’t seen or updated her since the Lunch Incident, so you relented and replied, “Yes, he still has all his equipment, Karen. Luckily for him, Billy was able to explain the situation to my satisfaction, otherwise he might’ve indeed been missing a couple of appendages at this moment.”

Frank snorted again, and Billy shot him an annoyed look before saying, “It was a misunderstandin’, Karen, an’ I fully explained it all.” You added, “He’d been stringing her along so these two were kept in the loop about the case. But then she came to the Chelsea café twice the next day, the second time to interrogate me about me and Billy’s relationship...” Frank butted in, smirking, “Never thought I’d hear the words ‘Billy’ and ‘relationship’ in the same sentence, lemme tell ya!” “Frankie!” yelled Billy, “look, will you all just stop givin’ me a hard time here!”

You and Karen grinned at each other, before you carried on, “So... during this little chat she was having with me, she told me her and Billy were dating.” Karen said, “No way!” “Yeah, she did. Obviously she was there just to find out what was going on between me and Billy! I went home afterwards, and Billy was still at his office. She headed straight over there and basically jumped him! He shoved her away and she fell over on her butt.” You all shared a grin at that. “Billy came over to mine and told me all about it.”

“Yeah,” put in Billy, “and then we both came over here the day of the op, and uhh... we were a little busy... I’m sure you know what I mean, when she came bustin’ in on us using a master key, then just stood watchin’ us for fuck knows how long. So I yelled at her to fuck off and she went.” His face was pink-tinged again, and he continued, “Then she turned up again last night, but knocked this time which was somethin’ I s’pose. Looked me over like a piece of meat cos I just had a towel wrapped round me.” He shook his head, “She’s unreal. Got a few screws loose,” twirling a finger next to his temple.

Karen smiled at him, “Nah, Billy - not crazy as such, but a woman scorned, y’know? Just think about it for a second. You must’ve really got her all stirred up, and then BAM!”, she yelled, and Billy jumped a little, “...you shut her down so fast her head must’ve been spinning.” He looked suitably chastised, and glanced guiltily over at you. “Now my girl here,” she carried on, pointing at you, “...when she saw you in that restaurant with another woman, she was gonna shut you down faster’n a jet engine on landing. Totally different approach with her. No stalking, no contact, no jumping you, she would’ve just cut your balls off and walked away.”

Billy squirmed in his armchair, looking wide-eyed at you. Even Frank looked slightly uncomfortable. “You know, you’re really lucky she gave you a second chance, Billy.” He gulped a little, “I know... I do know that, Karen. I was so dumb to string Madani along like that, but she made it obvious she was interested, so y’know, I...” he spread out his arms, “...thought I’d use it to my advantage and make sure we were kept in the loop.” He again looked over at you, regretfully, “Yeah, not my finest hour.”

But Karen still wasn’t finished, you could tell by the look on her face - “Relentless Terrier with Bone.”

“Would you have gone so far as to sleep with her?” she shot at him. Billy slouched back in his seat and looked down at his fingers, which were fidgeting in his lap. You knew that Karen was just trying to - she thought - get you some honest answers, but you decided it was time to bale him out. Billy looked like he was under attack from all angles, he wasn’t used to her interrogatory style. If it had been back in his Marine days, about a mission or troop movements or suchlike, it would’ve been a cakewalk for him, no doubt. But this was about relationships and feelings - not familiar territory for Billy in the slightest.

“We discussed that, K,” you replied to her, “..and yeah, he would have. For sure.”

“Before I met her,” Billy quickly added with an apologetic smile at you, before saying, “And before I met her, yeah - I’ll admit I would’ve sat back and let her jump my bones when she came visitin’ me at Anvil.”

You caught sight of Frank’s amazed face. He was looking at Billy as if he’d just fallen clear out of the sky into that armchair. His eyes suddenly met yours and you grinned at him, and he shook his head, laughing over at you, “Wow. Russo’s whipped!” “Shut it, Frankie,” grumbled Billy, but he had a small shit-eating grin on his face.

There was a knock at the door as the coffee and toast arrived, and Billy leapt up to answer it, looking relieved to be off the ‘witness stand.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A couple of hours later, checkout completed, the four of you split up to head off in your various different directions.

You to Chelsea, Karen to a meeting uptown with a ‘source’ as she termed it, and the two guys to Homeland’s HQ for their final meeting with The Scorned Woman - as she would now forever be known to you and Karen - and which they couldn’t wait to get over and done with.

Billy - very aware of Frank and Karen watching as well as smirking close by - almost shyly pulled you to him and kissed you softly. However he couldn’t help himself and fairly soon his kiss became much more heated, one big hand snaking round the back of your neck as he nuzzled his face closer to yours. The two of you pulled apart eventually to a round of wolf whistles and catcalls from your so-called ‘friends’.

Billy was chuckling and running a hand distractedly through his hair as he let go of you. You flipped the two of them an affectionate finger along with a smile just as you spotted your Uber drawing to a halt outside the hotel entrance, and made a hasty exit into it, stage left.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Madani looked across her desk, firstly at Castle, then after a moment let her gaze slide over to Russo, lingering on him. He looks just divine today, she thought. She took in his shiny immaculate hair, sullen face, dark seductive eyes, sensual mouth and angular jaw covered with his trademark light beard. It looked to her like he’d shaved it down just a little bit - not that it had ever been thick - but she could definitely see more of his jawline. She watched as his long fingers slotted and unslotted themselves, his hands resting on the desktop. She then observed that he was dressed in a leather jacket, grey t-shirt, pair of black jeans and combat boots. Everything about the tall marine just screamed ‘sex’, she mused.

A tiny shiver went through her as she imagined those fingers running over her body, and despite the case being more or less closed, she knew she wouldn’t be giving up on this apparently lost cause anytime soon. She’d find some excuse about missing evidence or statements to call him back in, or something along those lines. He was too good a catch to let him escape, and she wasn’t prepared to allow that to happen. And Dinah Madani, as anyone who knew or worked with her soon found out, was one very determined lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[make-me-imagine]

🍫13 Days of Halloween: Day 6

Prompts: “Where is all the Halloween candy?” “I don’t know” “Y/n”  

((Prompt changed slightly to match characterization))

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Reader x M*A*S*H Unit (Platonic)

Gender: Neutral      Triggers: None

Words: 1,585     Genre: Humor; Hijinks

Note: Thank you for requesting M*A*S*H! I hope I did it justice~ The time-line might not match up, but whatever. 

You sat down with a sigh as Hawkeye and B.J. fixed themselves a drink, Radar scribbled on his notepad, while Potter sat nearby tapping his finger against his chin. 

“So after post op, we’ll invite the nearby villagers, hand out a bunch of candy to the kiddies, and then we’ll have ourselves a nice party” Potter recited as Radar nodded along.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan” you replied “How does Frank feel about it?” 

“He doesn’t know yet” Hawkeye said, coming to sit next to you “We don’t think it’s necessary to tell his highness, he’ll complain about it either way”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll think it’s a grand idea” B.J. suggested as he sat on his own cot. 

“It’s Frank, B.J., his grand idea of a Halloween party would include everyone dressed in their fatigues dancing 6-feet apart to the tune of the star spangled banner.”

You smiled at Hawkeyes comment as he turned to you “So Y/n, have you decided what you’re going to wear?”

You shrugged “Probably something in a khaki color” you tugged on your pants as you spoke, knowing you had nothing to really wear. 

“Oh come on, you gotta dress up, we are!” B.J. said

“I’d love to dress up Beej but I have nothing to wear, I ordered a costume but it never came, I asked Klinger but he’s already given half of his clothes to the rest of the camp to wear.”

Hawkeye patted your leg, leaving his hand on your knee “We’ll find something.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to wear something you’d suggest” you replied with a note of suspicion. 

Hawkeye gave you an offended look “I have great taste in clothes!”

“You’re idea for a costume would be my birthday suit.”

“Oh, now that is an idea” he replied with a smirk, making you roll your eyes.

“Uh, Sir” Radar spoke up

“Yes Radar.” Potter asked

“There is just one problem with all of this” 

“What’s that Radar? You’re costume come in the wrong size?” B.J. quipped.

“Huh? Oh, no it's fine, well actually it is a little big, but that’s not it, I just, uh but  the requisition order for Halloween candy never came in. We’ve got some, but not enough for all the kids and for our party” 

You frowned at the news “And everyone donated money and or candy already?” 

“Yep, I mean everyone but Major Burns, but that’s because he still doesn’t know about the party”

You, Hawk and B.J. all exchanged knowing looks. Just as you did Frank came bumbling into the swamp, large package in hand “What’s that Frank?” Hawkeye asked.

“None of your beeswax!” Frank yelled aggressively, turning, he sees Potter “Oh, Colonel, hello”

You chuckled quietly at his sudden change in demeanor as he set down the package with a thud. “What’s in the box Burns?” Potter asked repeating Hawkeyes question.

“Oh. Uh, just a package from home” he answered as he began to open the package. 

“That’s nice. Well, in other news, Frank, we’re thinking of throwing a little soiree for Halloween, you got any candy you can donate, or money so we can buy some?” Potter asked. 

“A soiree? Sir that’s highly un-military” you and the others rolled your eyes as he began “And to answer your question, no, I don’t have any candy to donate, and I wont donate any money for your party” just as he answered, he opened the box, which was chock full of various candy bars and other bags of Halloween candy.

You and the others stood and hovered as you pointed at the box “Now you do!”

“What?! No, this is from my family, you can’t have it!”

“Oh come on Frank” Hawkeye began “We don’t want it all, just donate some! There’s no way you can eat all that yourself!”

“Just watch me!” Frank yelled as he stood, box in hand as he exited the swamp, dropping a couple pieces of candy on the way, which Radar scooped up.

You and the others exchanged annoyed looks as you watched Frank run across the courtyard, clearly towards Margaret’s quarters. “Oh, we’ll get that candy Frank” Hawkeye muttered quietly, so only you and B.J. could hear.

-

After a few failed attempts at retrieving the candy from Frank, Hawkeye and B.J. were about to give up, but tried one more time the day of the party as they cornered Frank in post-op “Where’s the candy Frank?” Hawkeye asked. 

“We just want some, for the kids Frank, think of the kids!” B.J. cut in.

“I don’t care, they’re not my kids! It doesn’t matter anyway, I ate it all” Frank said with a smug look on his face. 

Hawkeye scoffed “Frank if you ate all that candy then you’d be comatose.”

Frank scowled at Hawkeye as he turned to leave, Hawkeye and B.J. shared an exasperated look as they followed him out. Looking around, they see the nearby locals arriving, kids excited for having been told they’d be given candy.

“Frank, what can we do for you to to grow a heart and donate some of that candy?” B.J. asked.

Frank turned, seeming to think it over “You can’t make any jokes at me for the next month! And you must act accordingly in my presence, salutes and all!” 

Hawkeye and B.J. shared a look of disdain “Fine, fine! Just show us the candy Frank” B.J. muttered out

Frank smirked at them as he turned, leading them towards Margaret's tent, where he had been hiding the candy. You had been walking across the camp as came across them “What’s up guys?” 

“Frank agreed to give us some of the candy”

“Oh, is that so?” you asked, something in your voice that made B.J. and Hawkeye hesitate, but continued to follow Frank as you tagged along.

Entering into the tent, Frank opened up the closet pulling out the box. As he opened it, the three of you stood behind him watching. Hawkeye glanced at you, you met his eyes for a moment and smirked, making him curious. 

“Hey!” Frank called, earning all of your attention.

He dumped out the box, and all that fell out were some cans of corn and some loose pieces of candy. “He really did eat it all” B.J. muttered in disbelief. 

“Or maybe Margarete had a midnight craving” Hawkeye quipped before looking down at Frank “Where’s the candy Frank?” he asked, clearly frustrated.

“How am I supposed to know, it was in here earlier!”

“Maybe the candy-man took it” you joked, clearly not bothered by the missing candy. 

Hawkeye and B.J. looked at you, gathering you had something to do with it. And so did Frank. Standing, he eyed you “Where is the Halloween candy?” 

You looked at him, feigning offense while shrugging “I don’t know”

“Captain L/n” Frank began, pointing his finger at you, stopping only when the sudden sound of happy yelling children distracted you. 

Frank walked away, looking out of the tent, seeing a large group of kids jumping around as Father Mulcahy and a few nurses began handing out candy. Frank squinted as he looked closer “Hey! That’s my candy!”

As this was happening Hawkeye and B.J. looked back at you, amusement on their faces, knowing you had to be the one to do this. You looked at them, winking as they laughed out loud. 

Frank turned in anger, pointing his finger at all of you “I know you did this, you stole from me. After I get back my candy, I- I’ll, I’ll have you all on report!” 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna go take your candy back from those kids Frank?!” B.J. asked incredulously. 

“I know you have stooped low before Frank but don’t tell me you’d actually take candy from a baby?” Hawkeye asked.

Frank opened his mouth to speak but stopped, turning and looking at the kids and then turning back “Well, why shouldn’t I? It’s my candy!”

You all rolled your eyes, as Margaret jogged up, “Oh, Major Burns you are so kind!”

“Oh, uh, thank you Margar- Uh I mean Major Houlihan, but uh, what are you talking about?” 

“Well, Captain L/n told me you had donated all that candy, and now look at all the kids they’re having so much fun!” she spoke with a wide smile.

Frank, Hawk and B.J. all turned to look at you as you stared at Frank with a blank face, hands in your pockets “Frank certainly is a kind and generous man isn’t he?” you asked, no emotion in your voice. 

“Oh he really is!” Margaret said as he smiled widely at Frank.

Frank hesitated, looking between you and Margaret “Oh, well, we do what we can Major” he feigned, taking the credit as you internally rolled your eyes.

Margaret suddenly pulled Frank away and towards the group of kids. Feeling pressure on both your shoulders, you look back and forth seeing both Hawkeye and B.J. resting their arms on your shoulder “Here we were, threatening him to give us the candy, and you swept in like a thief in the night” B.J. commented, still amused.

“Well now that that’s over” Hawkeye paused looking down at you with a smile “I’ve got a costume for you I think you’ll like” he smirked

“Oh no” you muttered. 

Hawkeye’s smirk only grew as he and B.J. shared a knowing look “Oh, yes”. Hawkeye looped his arm through yours as he began to drag you towards the Swamp, B.J. following behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Again, this was my first time writing for M*A*S*H, so I’m not sure if I did it justice lol, but I hoped you like it anyways. And please request more M*A*S*H in the future! I did enjoy writing for it and the characters!!

Please consider reblogging this, as this is a very small fandom, so reblogging it would be one of the best ways to spread it to other MASH lovers :)

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch1: The Dog Of Thunder

Summary: Frank and Fliss attend their first scan and break the news of their pregnancy to their friends, whilst dealing with a troublesome Dog and a very, very concerned 8-almost-9 year old.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

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

This ain’t some routine that I use every Friday, this ain’t a one line, one night kiss and tell…

February 2019

“For the last time Mary, no you can’t come!” Frank exasperatedly groaned as Mary once more asked him the question she’d been pecking his head with since dinner the previous day.

“Why not?”

“Because first off you have school and second off this is a medical appointment for Fliss.” He shook his head. “Not a day out!”

“But you’re going…” “Yeah because it’s my baby!” He looked at her, shaking his head “Why am I even explaining this to you? You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Mary scowled at him and folder her arms. “That is so unfair.”

“Yeah well, so is life. Get used to it.”

“I only want to see the baby.” Mary said quietly, giving a little sigh. Frank paused, his coffee mug held a few inches from his mouth as he considered her for a second before he smiled softly.

“Me too Stack, I can’t wait.” He took a sip of his drink. “Look, I know you’re excited, we all are but you still can’t come.”

“Can’t come where?” Fliss asked, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard for the waffles.

“The scan.” Frank took the packet off her and slid the plate of already toasted ones over to her. She grinned at him and took a huge bite of one.

“Sorry kiddo, but we’ll make sure we bring you a photo back.” she looked at Mary, before she turned and opened the fridge, pulling out the apple juice. Frank watched as she poured a large glass before she drained it in one. “What?” she frowned, “I’m thirsty”

“You hate apple juice.” Mary’s eyebrows raised a little.

Fliss glanced at Mary, then to the bottle on the side, then the empty glass in her hand “Huh…guess the baby doesn’t.” she mused.

“You feeling ok?” Frank asked, reaching out to curl an arm round her waist and no sooner had his fingers brushed her skin Thor let out a low, rumbling growl. Frank groaned and stared at the dog. “Seriously, pal? Still?”

“I don’t know what’s got into him.” Fliss shook her head, studying the dog as his lip curled back, exposing his sharp, bright white teeth. “I know he’s been protective over me in the past, but not with you.”

“It’s your hormones.” Mary supplied, as both Frank and Fliss turned their heads to her. “I googled it when he growled at Frank last night to see why he’s been doing it for so long and in the first three months you get all these hormones flooding your system and that’s why you get sick and tired because you’re not used to them. Some people say that dogs and pets can also sense it and it can affect them too until they understand it’s normal.” Frank blinked as besides him Fliss gave a chuckle “Mary, you’re a little brainbox.”

“It’s all on the internet.” Mary shrugged. “I was curious. According to one vet site that I looked on it can make female animals think they are pregnant too and the males feel like they have to protect their person.” “Well he needs to quit.” Frank looked at Thor. “Or he’ll be sleeping outside, predicted heavy rainfall or not.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at Frank and he shrugged. “What? Isn’t he supposed to be the God of Thunder, or should that be the Dog of Thunder…”

Mary let out a snort as Fliss glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Nope, he wouldn’t.” Mary grinned “When Fred was new he used to tell me he was gonna kick him out all the time.” “He shredded the sofa.” Frank looked at her.

“He was a baby.” Mary said, swallowing the last of her toast.

“Whatever. You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, go get your stuff I’ll walk you down to the bus stop.”

“I can go on my own…” Mary retorted.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her.  “Make sure you get your jacket, it’s a little cold out.”

With a groan Mary pushed off her chair, carried her empty plate to the sink where she placed it inside and shuffled off. Fliss moved to put it in the dishwasher and when she straightened up, Frank looped his arms round her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I’m already hoping Bean is a boy?” Frank sighed, his hand gently splaying over Fliss’ stomach, the pair of them ignoring the thunder-like growl coming from the very aptly named dog who was sat eyeing Frank beadily.

Fliss laughed, her hand falling on top of his. “Not quite sure you’ll cope with three girls, huh?”

“I’ll have lost all my hair by the time I’m 40.”

“You know, that’s only like two years away.” Fliss grinned, turning in his arms.

“Err, two years and a month, actually.” He narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

“Details.” She grinned as he placed a soft kiss to her lips, Thor’s growl growing even louder.

“Right, seriously?” He broke away to look at the dog who stared at him, Fliss’ laughter growing louder. The dog’s lip once more curled up in a snarl before he looked at Fliss when she spoke to him sternly.

“Thor, no.”

He stopped immediately, his tail wagging.

“I can’t cope with this for another six months every time I wanna touch you.” Frank wined and Fliss pondered something for a second.

“The Vet is coming to the yard today to do the routine visits. I’ll take him up there his afternoon, see if he has any advice.” She shrugged.

Frank nodded. “Ok.”

At that point Mary came back, her jacket on and her bag over her shoulder. “Ready.”

“Have a good day.” Fliss called as the two of them, headed to the door, Frank picking up his dark blue jacket as he went, Thor ambling behind.

“Oh, so now you’re my friend.” Frank mumbled, and the dog simply wagged his tail in response as Frank looked back at Fliss “It’s like he has a split personality!”

Fliss grinned as Frank shook his head once more and spoke to Thor as they headed out into the chilly morning sun.

“Fickle bastard.”

********* “Good morning!”  Frank and Fliss both looked up as a woman in her mid to late forties swept into the consultation room, smiling at them both. “Miss Gallagher?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Hi I’m Dr Kent.” she smiled, “And you’re Dad I assume?” She turned to Frank.

“Sure am.” Frank smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you Mr…”

“Adler, please, call me Frank.” He smiled, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Ok so, I gather this is your first scan?”

Fliss nodded.

“And your notes say you estimate between 11 to 13 weeks is that correct?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Right, just a few questions and we’ll get on with it. How have you been? Is there anything worrying you?”

“Not really, I mean my morning sickness seems to come in waves.” Fliss shrugged “Some days I’m okay, some days I’m a little off colour for a few hours and then others it’s like full twenty-four hour sickness”

“Are you managing to keep hydrated?”

“Mostly” she nodded.

“Any trouble sleeping?” “No.” Fliss shook her head as Frank snorted.

“It’s keeping her awake that’s the issue.”

Fliss glared at him as the Doctor laughed. “Yes, tiredness is common in the first few months especially but you should feel most of this ease off between 16 to 20 weeks…at which point I hate to say it but you trade it for a whole other set of stuff.” “Great.” Fliss grumbled.

Doctor Kent smiled sympathetically and then clapped her hands together. “Right, you ready to see Baby…oh, is it Gallagher or Adler, or-”

“Adler.” both Frank and Fliss said at the same time. The both looked at one another, neither of them had discussed that at all, and they both gave a gentle as the Doctor nodded, switching on the machine.

“Ok, just lift your top up…yup, just like that and…this is gonna feel cold ok?” she asked, squeezing the gel onto Fliss’ stomach. Grabbing the wand she pressed it onto her belly, moving it around until she stopped and smiled, as the sound of their baby’s heartbeat suddenly hit their ears.

“Here we go.” The Doctor smiled, turning the screen to face them allowing both Frank, and Fliss to see their baby for the first time.

“Oh Frankie, look.” Fliss whispered, her head turned towards the screen as Frank took her hand in his, his gaze completely focussed on the shape. You could clearly make out it was a tiny human. A head, two arms, two legs. Frank felt his eyes mist over instantly as he saw his baby on the screen in front of him, somehow making all this seem so much more real. He could see it! He could hear it!

He looked at Fliss as she turned to face him, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the place just underneath where their fingers were joined.

“Everything is perfect.” The Doctor spoke “I can’t see any abnormalities at all. Your baby is absolutely fine and healthy.”

Fliss let out the breath she had been holding and Frank squeezed her hand. They were through the most dangerous part and their baby was fine, it was all going to be perfectly fine.

And he couldn’t be more happy or relived.

“I estimate from this that you’re nearer thirteen weeks than eleven but it’s never exact.”  The Doctor continued. “So I would predict a due date of…” she tapped at the keyboard and smiled at them both “21st August.”

She wiped Fliss’ stomach clean, allowing her to move her top back down before she stood up.

“You have any questions for me?” “Oh, erm…when am I likely to start showing?” Fliss asked. “I mean I’ve been putting on a bit of weight I know that as my jeans are a little tight but I can’t see much of a difference other than the fact it looks like-“

“There is nothing to be concerned about.” The doctor shook her head, smiling. “Everyone is different. Your lifestyle, muscle mass, weight are all contributing factors. Try not to worry about it too much, your baby is growing correctly and you’ll notice soon enough.”

Fliss pouted and Frank had to laugh. He knew what she was grumbling about. She’d complained the other day that her pants wouldn’t fasten and she was stood in front of the mirror moaning that it didn’t even look like a bump merely like she’d eaten a few too many pizzas. When Frank had pointed out she had been eating like a pig in all fairness, mainly chomping through McDonald’s fries, ready-made toasting waffles and apples like they were going out of fashion, she’d thrown a pillow at his head whilst he had run from the room laughing.

“I’ll just get sort you a copy of the photo and some information about the Lamaze classes and everything else and then you can be on your way. Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, as she headed for the door.

“Thirteen weeks.” Frank looked at Fliss as she up “That confirms it’s definitely a made in Boston Bean”

Fliss laughed as he stood up, kissing her cheek as he went, the pair of them stopping as her stomach let out a huge growl. Frank looked at her, his eyebrow raised before his hand fell to her stomach.

“Is Bean hungry?” “So is Mumma.” she grinned.

“Well that goes without saying.” he teased.

“Hey I’m cooking another person here, pal, it’s hungry work….oh, can we go to the Waffle house? I could murder a chocolate and strawberries special. And apple juice.” “We can go wherever you want.” he smiled. “I’m yours for the entire day.”

“Even H&M?”

Frank hesitated before he groaned “Fine.” He looked at her before he grinned cheekily “You do need some new jeans after all…” “Bastard!” she snorted, slapping his arm and he gave a laugh.

***** Frank parked the truck up and climbed out to shove a couple of bucks in the meter. When he came back he looked at Fliss who was leaning on the door, arms folded.

“You do this in purpose?”

“What?” He frowned.

She nodded to the store he had managed to park outside, and he turned to see he’d inadvertently picked a spot outside a little independent baby boutique called Bloomers.

“Fuck, no!” he laughed and Fliss gave him a grin as he took her hand. They both turned to head towards the Waffle place but Fliss hesitated as she looked through the window of the shop. Frank waited for her, a soft smile on his face. He’d been itching to buy the baby something but Fliss had point blank refused to allow him or anyone else to do so until they had the confirmation from the scan to tell her everything was okay. She’d confided in Frank that she didn’t want to edge her bets, she felt that everything was just going too perfect for them and she was waiting for something to come along and fuck it up.

Frank had tried to reason with her, tell her that she was worrying about nothing but she’d gotten herself so worked up that in the end it had been easier to appease her, but now…well, she held that confirmation that it was all ok in a little black and white photo in her purse. Their baby was fine, healthy and strong and…fuck, they were gonna be the proud parents to a tiny baby person in another six months or so.

“You wanna go in?” he asked. She turned to him with a grin and nodded.

Frank held the door open for her and they walked into the little boutique, the pair of them stopping still as they looked around. There was so much baby stuff, Frank started to feel a little overwhelmed and suddenly thrown back 9 years or so to when he had been in a similar shop with Diane when she’d been preparing to have Mary.

It struck him then how the two situations couldn’t have been more different. For starters they had the support of family behind them right from the off. Bill and Verity had been over the moon when they had found out Fliss was expecting, even if it had come as a bit of a surprise. More so because they hadn't been planning on revealing their news quite the way it came out.  They'd agreed that they would announce their engagement first and get Christmas out of the way, for no particular reason really other than Fliss' brother would be over for New Years and they could tell the family together once they had broken the news to Mary first.

But, well, best laid plans and all that…

“Oh Lissy…” Verity gushed, tears in her eyes as she looked at Fliss’ ring “I’m so happy for you…”

“Thanks Mum!” Fliss smiled, her own tears spilling own her cheeks as Bill shook Frank’s hand furiously, before pulling him in for a manly hug.

“Thank you.” Bill muttered into his ear, so that no one could hear him. “Thank you for wanting to look after her.”

“Always.” Frank nodded as the man stepped back, smiling at him.

“Well, we need to crack that champagne open that we bought.” Verity pulled back.

“We have one in the fridge already.” Frank smiled. “We’ll save yours for later on with dinner.”

The champagne had been shared, Fliss having a small glass which she secretly topped up with a little lemonade so as not to spark too much suspicion, Mary also having a flute of fizzy apple juice before they settled down, exchanged gifts and then sat at the table for dinner. And all was going so well until Bill’s sharp eyes noticed Fliss wasn’t drinking wine.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache.” Fliss said, when he quizzed her about it, but even as she spoke she felt her cheeks flush.

“Right, you’re not pregnant then?” Bill snorted at his own joke.

“Oh Bill, stop it!” Verity nudged him, shaking her head.

Frank felt his neck beginning to warm as he glanced at Fliss, the pair of them trying to brush it off by smiling, but Bill’s eyes widened as he observed the pair of them and his mouth fell open “Jesus Christ you are.”

“What are you talking about?” Verity snorted “Of course she’s…” she trailed off as Fliss locked eyes with her and gave a sigh.

“We didn’t’ want to tell you yet, not until Steve was here and we’d spoken to Mary.”

“You’re having a baby?” Mary looked at Fliss, her eyes wide “Frank’s baby?”

“Well who else’s would it be?” Frank looked at Mary. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shook his head “We wanted to tell you first Stack, but we we’re gonna wait until after Christmas and we’d had a few days ourselves to get used to the idea...” “Few days?” Verity whispered and Fliss glanced at her mum whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears “When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.” Fliss said softly. “I didn’t tell Frank until the evening.”

“I’m sorry Titch…” Bill spluttered, his eyes also misting over said, “I didn’t for one second think you actually would be…”

With that he pushed his chair back and strode round to the other side of the table, Fliss rising to her feet to greet him in one of his famous bear hugs as he kissed her cheek before she turned to her mum who embraced her gently, sniffling as she did so.

When Verity released Fliss, she turned to Frank who was currently having his own back slapped once again by Bill before he turned just in time to see Mary was stood on her chair, but before he could tell her to sit down she’d launched herself at him.

“Oh my God this is so cool!” she said as Frank chuckled, catching her and then adjusting his arms so she was safely held “A baby?”

“Yeah…”

She turned to Fliss who moved towards the two of them, Frank shifting slightly as Mary leaned back in his arms to place hers round Fliss’ neck before he smiled at his girl as she turned back to her parents.

“We know it might be a bit sudden.” She began, her hands wringing together like they always did when she was a bit nervous. “And no it wasn’t planned- my bad, and yes, maybe we should have been married first but we’re happy and excited and…”

“Basically I gave her a diamond, she gave me a positive pregnancy test in return.” Frank kissed her cheek, cutting her ramblings off because he could tell she was spiralling. And there was no need to. Not one person in the room had reacted badly to their news.

“Fair swap I suppose.” Bill shrugged, his eyes shining. “No, it’s great news…it really…”

He trailed off shrugging, unable to find anything else to say. There was a moment’s silence before Mary let out a chuckle as she leaned back in Frank’s arms to look at him, her hands squishing his cheeks.

This is the best Christmas EVER!”

Frank had been overwhelmed with how much love and joy had filled the room for something that was barely the size of a bean at that point. He’d called his mother later on in the evening as Fliss had said it was only fair and to his surprised she’d sounded quite emotional when he told her, a stark contrast to how she’d received the news of Diane’s pregnancy. But then, as Frank had said to Fliss later on as they lay in bed, the Evelyn he was getting to know now was certainly different in his eyes to the woman she had been back then. Fliss had made a good point that it probably wasn’t completely down to Evelyn changing per-say, but also how he was viewing her as well.

But, then, how could things not be different after everything they had been through?

He glanced over as Fliss tugged on his hand and began to lead him over to the various displays of clothing. He tossed a glance at one of the strollers that was in the middle of the store on a slightly raised plinth, doing a double take when he saw the price tag.

“How much?” he spluttered and Fliss turned to look at him, then the offending item and gave a soft laugh

“Yeah, they’re not cheap…but we don’t need to worry about that yet, or cribs and stuff. To be fair we should probably be more concerned with where we’re gonna live.”

“Yeah I know.” Frank took a deep breath.

“Hey.” Fliss looked at him. “Frank it’s not a problem…” “Yeah you said.” His tone was a little brusque and she frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t like the idea of them not having their own room. I did that with Mary and I want this to be right.” “Frank, it’s not a big deal.” Fliss smiled “Mary turned out ok and Bean will be in our room for a while anyway, we have plenty of time.” “I know but I’d still rather be able to move beforehand if we can.” he shrugged.

“Why?” She pressed.

“Because I want them to have a Nursery.” he pressed, flushing slightly “I’d like to decorate one for them…stuff I should have done for Mary.”

“And you can.” Fliss reached up to cup his cheek “Frank, it isn’t the be all and end all though. No one’s gonna think any less of you if there isn’t one ready and waiting. Certainly not my parents.” “Who says that’s what…” he trailed off when she shot him a knowing look and he sighed “Busted?” “Well and truly.”

“I know you’re right.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, “But it can’t hurt to give the landlord a call and explain can it? You never know, he might be happy to let us out of our lease early. It was me that pushed for a long term one after all.”

Fliss shrugged “Nope, you’re right it can’t hurt…” she stopped as something caught her eye and she started laughing “Oh my god, Frankie look…”

She picked up a baby grow that was a pale, lemon yellow colour with a white sailboat on the front. “A mini sailor.”

Frank snorted. “If you get that we need one with a horse on the front to balance it out, seeing as we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.” “Hey, girls can sail and boys can ride.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Stop being sexist.”

At that he let out a loud laugh, a really loud laugh, which caused the assistant to look over at them both.

“I’m getting it.” Fliss nodded, definitively, picking it up.

“I’ll buy it.” Frank smiled gently, reaching for it.

“Why?”

“Fliss, don’t start! Let me buy my baby’s first stuff, please.” She cocked her head to one side, and he thought she was going to argue again but then that gorgeous smile spread across her face and she handed it to him.

“You’re such a softie.” She leaned up to give him a gentle kiss. They browsed for a bit longer, before her stomach let out another growl and Frank decided enough was enough. He gently began to lead her over to the till when she pulled on his hand again and grinned as she picked up a pair of tiny white Converse trainers

“They match Mary’s.”

“Yeah, and at almost thirty bucks they can stay matching on the shelf.” He grumbled.

“Bean needs them.”

“No, Bean doesn’t need them.” He rolled his eyes.

“Does.” Fliss bat her eyelashes at him as her hand fell to her stomach, gently rubbing over her T-shirt.

“Is this how it’s gonna be? Basically every time I say no to something you’re gonna play this card?” he looked at her, his eyebrow raising.

“Pretty much.” she nodded.

“Fucks sake.”  He shook his head before he let out an annoyed chuckle, “Fine, get the damned sneakers.”

*****

After a bite to eat they headed home to get Thor and took him up to the yard. Before the Vet started his routine examinations of the horses, Fliss asked if there was anything they could do to make Thor more comfortable. After seeing first-hand what they were trying to describe when Frank had dropped an arm round her shoulder, the Vet had suggested they could give the dog a mild sedative. But when Frank had realised that this would make him dopey, he had refused almost as vehemently as Fliss had. He knew it wasn’t Thor’s fault he was feeling the way he was, plus if Frank was honest, he liked the way he knew the dog would protect Fliss. Okay so she didn’t need it at home but it was comforting to know when he wasn’t there that she was safe.

“Other than that it’s a case of riding it out.”  Scott, the vet shrugged. “Our dog was a little off for about 4 months when my wife was expecting our first. For our second and third, well, he couldn’t care less.”

Frank looked at Fliss. “So he only needs a kennel for a few weeks then.” “My dog is NOT living in a kennel.” Fliss shot over her shoulder as she followed the vet over to the first stable which was Cap’s, Thor trotting behind her as always. “Oh, can you grab me a water from the office?” “Sure.” Frank nodded as Fliss carried on after the vet who entered the stall and Cap immediately looked at him suspiciously.

“He remembers from last year.” Scott chuckled and Fliss let out a snort.

“Probably. I wish he’d take a leaf out of Heidi’s books. She’s such a good girl for stuff like this.” Fliss slipped the halter over Cap’s head, gently stroking his nose as the vet felt all down his legs and listened to his heart. By the time Frank reappeared the Vet was checking Cap’s eyes then his ears and Fliss had a hold of the rope connected to his halter, wrapped once around his nose to keep control of him.

“Stop…being…an…ass…” She said as he jerked his head up again, attempting to get out of the vet’s reach. “Come on Cap…” She stroked his nose softly and he lowered his head, giving her a filthy look as he did so. The Vet then managed to check his teeth which were fine and moved back to his bag to retrieve his kit for the annual vaccination shot.

“Erm…” Scott looked at Fliss. “I’m not sure it’s wise you being here if he’s gonna go mad like he did last year.” His eyes flicked down to her stomach. Fliss hesitated and Frank could see she was about to tell the Vet where to get off when he cut in.

“Honey, he’s right.”

She turned to face him, glaring at him and he met her stare with one of his own, completely unperturbed and unwilling to back down. When she realised this she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll get Joanne.” She grumbled, opening the stable door and stalking past him.

Frank let out a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. Scott chuckled a little and looked at him. “She’ll get used to it. Not being able to do certain things, I mean.” Frank snorted “I’m not so sure. She’s so damned headstrong…that’s why she likes him so much.” he nodded to the black and white horse in question “Kindred spirits.” A couple of minutes later Fliss came back, Joanne following and the blonde girl headed into the stall, taking hold of the rope.

“We may as well go.” Fliss turned to Frank. He frowned.

“You don’t want to stay?” “What’s the point, I’m not needed.” Her tone was clipped and Frank exchanged a look with Joanne who rolled her eyes

“Fliss, no one said that. You just you need to be a little bit more careful…” Joanne tried to appease her but Fliss was having none of it. “I can be careful at home.” She snapped and then turned to Frank “Can we go?”

“Sure.” Frank shrugged.

“Call me if there’s anything I need to know, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fliss said without looking at Joanne as she left.

Frank shot Joanne an apologetic look as he followed Fliss out of the barn and towards the truck.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked.

“Was what necessary?” she yanked the door to the truck open to let Thor hop into the back.

“You know full well what.” he looked at her as she slammed the door shut and move to the passenger one. “There was no need to speak to Joanne like that, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, no one did anything wrong.”

“Other than telling me I can’t do my job.” Came the retort as Fliss sank into the passenger seat, once more slamming the door shut.

“No one is saying you can’t do your job, just that for a little while you need to be careful.” He shook his head as he climbed in after her. “. You can’t ride and you can’t put yourself in a position where you might get hurt.”

Fliss folded her arms across her chest, staring out of the front window sullenly. “So basically I can’t do my job, like I just said…” “You own and manage the stables.” Frank felt his temper starting to flare a little as he drove the truck down the drive to the road.

“I’m well aware of that thank you!” “So own and manage then, Fliss!” he said loudly. Behind them on the back seat Thor began to growl at his raised voice.

“I do!” she blazed back, “What kind of stupid comment is that?”

“No, you do everything.” he snapped back, shaking his head, ignoring the dog. “You promoted Joanne so that you could take a step back and for a while you did, but then it all started creeping back up again and you took more of that control back. You took the classes you gave her back, you still insist on being there most mornings to open and close up! The whole point of you giving her more responsibility was so that you could concentrate on teaching and the management side.” Fliss looked at him, before she turned away, staring out of the window as Thor’s growls died down. She knew Frank was right, she had started taking bits of tasks back off Joanne. Not on purpose, not really, but because she felt like she should be doing more. She didn’t like feeling out of control, not after spending so long being forced to be for no particular reason other than her ex was an abusive ass hole.

“Honey I get it.” Frank sighed, as he saw her reach up to wipe her eyes. “It’s your business, but that doesn’t mean you have to be on the front lines all the time. Look at Alan, I see him max once a month, the rest of the time he leaves it to me and the other team leaders to run. That’s the whole point!” “I know.” Fliss said quietly. “I’m a control freak, I get it…guess I spent so much time not being in control of my life and my career I just…”

Frank took a deep breath his hand reaching out for hers. Once more ignoring the dog on the back seat he tangled his fingers into hers and raised his hand to her mouth, pressing his lips softly to her wrist.

“Being driven isn’t a bad thing, sweetheart.” he said softly “In fact it’s one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place. But, certainly for the next few months you need to just step back, let others do the work for you. You can still boss them about from the side lines.” “I don’t boss-“ she started and he looked at her eyebrow raised and she let out a chuckle. “Okay, maybe I do a little.” “And you’re entitled to.” He smiled. “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do and I have no intentions of making you stop work or anything like that but, well, it’s not just you now, you got Bean to think about and I worry ok?” “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Apologies accepted and World War Three avoided, Frank smiled at her and she smiled back as he let go of her hand so he could turn the truck up the lane onto the freeway.

“So…” he said, changing the subject “How do you want to tell the Circle of Truth our news.” She grinned and turned to look at him “I had an idea…” Turns out her idea was simple. Giggling to themselves once they go home they arranged the scan photo, the baby-grow and the trainers on the dining table, snapped a photo and fired it out to the group text accompanied simply by the words “Coming August 2019…”

Immediately both their phones started to ring, Greg was on to Frank, and Bonnie onto Fliss. Whilst Greg was slightly more reserved, Bonnie was almost screaming in excitement demanding to know all the details.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” she scoffed and Fliss smiled. “We didn’t tell anyone other than family.” she said “With everything that has happened I was so scared something might go wrong. You’re not cross are you?”

“Cross, no of course not! This is amazing!” Bonnie gushed “So, what happened first, you gotta tell me…the proposal or finding that out?”

Fliss beamed “No, Frank proposed before he knew. Which makes me even happier because he wanted me to marry him because of me, not out of any duty or feeling it was the right thing to do.”

“Of course he wanted to marry you.” Bonnie scoffed “That goes without saying. Oh I’m so excited, I can’t wait.”

Bonnie’s reaction paled into insignificance to Roberta’s. When they collected Mary from the school bus they told her that she could go and tell Roberta the news she’d been dying to tell her since Christmas, so she skipped ahead, banging on the woman’s door. When Mary blurted out Fliss was pregnant and Frank passed her the scan photo she paused for a moment before her head raised to look at them both and she burst into tears and it took them a good half an hour to calm her down. Once she’d assured them she was fine and couldn’t wait for unofficial Nanny duties, the three of them headed home where they decided that Pizza was on the menu for the evening. Along with waffles for Fliss, of course.

After stuffing their faces they sat on the sofa, the scan photo placed on the coffee table, Frank catching Mary looking at it every so often. When it hit 8 pm and he told her it was time for bed, she grumbled as usual until Frank shot her a look and she sighed dramatically, shuffling to the edge of the seat she had been occupying between them both.

She glanced at the scan photo before she turned to Fliss and looked at her.

“I really am happy you’re having a baby.” She smiled “It’s been so hard not telling everyone at school, especially Rosie.”

Fliss smiled at her and Frank reached out, rubbing Mary’s back. “Well you can tell who you want now Stack.” “You know you’re gonna have to stop calling me that.” She turned to look at him “Because when Bean is born, it’s gonna be the shortest one out of us all.” “You’ll always be short stack to me.” Frank smirked. “Or I could change it to squirt, or pain-in-the-ass…” “You’re so lame.” Mary rolled her eyes.

Frank gave a sarcastic laugh. “ha ha ha.”

“Can Rosie come for dinner on Friday?” She suddenly looked at Fliss, and Fliss immediately glanced at Frank. They’d heard a lot about the girl from Mary, and Bonnie had said they were thick as thieves at school which pleased Frank, the fact that she was actually forging proper friendships but she’d never asked them if she could have a friend over.

“Of course.” Fliss nodded. “You can ask her tomorrow and then I can speak to her mom if you want? Maybe she can sleep over?” “Hmmm.” Mary thought about it “I’m not sure about that, but dinner would be good.”

Frank looked at Fliss again “What aren’t you sure about?”

She shrugged “I dunno, I kinda like my own time in the evening.” “What are you, ninety?” Frank looked at her and she glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“She can come for dinner.” Fliss cut across what was threatening to spark into a childish tit-for-tat insult trading game “Ask her tomorrow and then I’ll speak to her mom okay?”

“How will you speak to her mom?” “I’ll call her.” “Do you have her number?” “No but you can get it for me.” Fliss looked at Mary “Or I’ll come pick you up and catch her at School…” “Stop worrying about stuff…” Frank said exasperatedly “We’ll sort it ok? Now come on, bed!”

Mary stood up and she looked once more at the scan photo “Is it wrong that I already love the baby, like loads?”

“No, it’s not wrong.” Fliss smiled at her.

“I mean know it’s like just my cousin and not my brother or sister or anything but…” Mary trailed off shrugging. “Hey.” Fliss looked at her, frowning slightly as she reached out to tuck Mary’s now quite long hair behind her ear, “It’s not just your cousin. Bean’s gonna be living with you, looking up to you, annoying the hell out of you, following you…and they’re gonne love you, learn from you…you’ll be just the same as a big sister.”

Marry nodded and turned to hug Fliss, then to Frank who pulled her onto his lap, kissing her forehead.

“I know you’re only my Uncle but I really wish you were my dad.” Mary said, her voice quiet. Frank looked at Fliss, swallowing as his girl wore a look on her face that he had no words to describe other than one of utter heartbreak and love as her eyes sprang with tears and he felt his own water.

“Only your Uncle?” he said, his voice cracking as he attempted to make a joke “Charming…” “You know what I mean.” Mary shrugged.

Frank sighed. It was the first time Mary had ever said anything like that to him. She’d made a comment in the past about wishing Fliss was her mom which hadn’t been repeated since. If truth be told, he felt uneasy labelling himself as her father. Granted, a lot of people automatically assumed he was, and if they weren’t people he knew, or would meet again, he didn’t bother correcting them because it wasn’t needed. Fliss had told him time and time again, no matter how much he hated it, he was Mary’s father by-proxy, even if she didn’t call him that, and he got that yes, but he still wanted Mary to know about Diane, even if he had brought her up. For that reason, he would never be referred to as her father, nor would she ever call him Dad, but he’d love her like he was every single day of his life.

“Look…” He sighed, pulling back to look down at her. “I promised I’d always look after you…well, until I get too old and you put me in a nursing home.” at that she laughed a little “Isn’t that what a dad does?”

Mary nodded “Yeah…”

“So what’s really eating you, Stack?” He asked softly, he could see that she wasn’t completely placated.

“When the baby comes…you’re not gonna love me any less are you?” She asked, looking at him.

“Fuck, no!” Frank blurted out, at the same time Fliss exclaimed

“Of course not!”

Frank shook his head “Mary, I couldn’t love you any more if I tried, regardless of whether you were actually my kid or not. And Fliss feels the same.” “Of course I do.” Fliss looked at her

“So please don’t worry about that or think that for a single second, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffed, before she grinned at Frank “You said the F word.”

“Yeah, well you drove me to it.” he shrugged “And here’s another swear for you. If I ever hear stupid shit like that come outta your mouth again…there’s gonna be real trouble. You have nothing to worry about. I promise you from the bottom of my heart. Lissy too.”

Fliss nodded “I already tell the people I work with when they ask who the girl is on the website that she’s my Mary”

“You do?”

“Course.” she nodded, “Because you are.”

Mary took a deep breath before she nodded “Okay. Can I watch TV in my room for a while?”

Frank sighed “Twenty minutes, max…”

Mary nodded and then looked at him again. “Can I take the photo of Bean for my wall?”

“We were gonna stick it on the fridge, so we can all share it.” Frank looked at her “But tell you what, you take it tonight and then we’ll make a copy for you to keep.”

“Can I take my copy to school?”

“You can stick it on your head for all I care.” Frank shrugged.

“Well that’s just dumb.” She scoffed, hopping down off his knee. Fliss and Frank watched her leave before Frank looked at Fliss, letting out a deep breath.

“Do you think she feels left out, already?” “No.” Fliss said, shaking her head “She’s just a little concerned things are going to change for her, and I understand why Frank. Stuff is gonna change around here, there’s no denying that and it’s going to be strange for her. Especially as she’s had so many changes to put up with over the last eighteen months. You know, she had you to herself for so long and then I turned up, and then I moved in and suddenly there’s a wedding and a baby on the way. It’s happened fast and-“ “Too fast?” Frank looked at Fliss, his face betraying his worry and Fliss shook her head.

“No, not at all. I love you, and I have no doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with you and yes, this baby wasn’t planned but, I’m happy. All I’m saying is that it’s been a huge thing for us, and we’re adults. For an almost nine year old then it’s bound to be overwhelming.” “I just don’t want her to worry about her ever having to leave us again.” he sighed. “Or that I’m gonna replace her with my actual kid…”

“She doesn’t.” Fliss assured him. “Not really. Look, try not to think about it too much okay? Let’s enjoy this you know? It’s scary, really scary, but it’s also exciting!” “Yeah, yeah it is…” Frank smiled and shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to Fliss’ stomach as he placed a tender kiss to her lips.

And right on cue the thunder once more rumbled from Thor’s throat.

**** Chapter 2

[gwoongi]

best years

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: best friend au, bff-to-lovers au, fluff, angst, guk is pining rating: general words: 2.6k warnings: its a short little fic, sort of like one chunk of a big chocolate bar and im gonna slowly feed u one chunk at a time until you’re sick and full a/n: a squint into the mind of bff jeongguk who will star in an eventual “idol best friend” series that i routinely dream about but have always felt it disrespectful to write about but at the end of the day everything i write is fiction and jeongguk would probably be less offended by a “canon divergence bff au” than he would reading my drug addicted rockstar au so :-) read it & weep folks

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

Jeongguk was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that. It was risky taking any step out of his house at any moment, even on the days where it was pouring outside; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the shrubs in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame. 

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse as he booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Jeongguk takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face. For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR, and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the member of BTS who didn’t give a damn when the ‘real’ reasons for travel were taken away.

But Jeongguk thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in Manchester, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures. You were at University now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally woke up next to months before. It had been four months since Jeongguk had seen his true best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.” Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses rested on the end of his roundish nose. He led Jeongguk out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Jeongguk smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Jeongguk. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road going one way only, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Jeongguk’s still playing that sentence on a loop. He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. A man stands in the doorway, a cigarette out of his mouth and ash dropping to his toes bare in sandals. It smells like doughnuts, and weed, and he smiles brightly. He’s missed the UK, and how unbelievably shockingly awful it is when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of London online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Jeongguk says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only became a fan three months ago. And yeah, I figured. Finally, I understood why all the white girls studying Korean here wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Jeongguk frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy on Twitter when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Jeongguk until the words die out. “Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours...it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Jeongguk feels his stomach flip, kind of like butterflies. These butterflies are sour, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Jeongguk is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister. You’ve never been his sister, even when you were part of his family growing up. There were times you came to all of his Korean family events, the times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different to that, you both knew it but never acknowledged it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice, big and pretty-skinned, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Jeongguk remembers looks a lot like your Dad’s back in the day. Might be the same, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Jeongguk, but the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here, he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.” He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were fifteen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep hidden and secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left as Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the 99p store, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Jeongguk manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down. As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person- white walls and a bed set that’s white with a peony pattern. Above your desk, Jeongguk recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at University who Jeongguk always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his neck at a strange angle against the wall your bed is literally attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the Fleetwood Mac song ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Jeongguk hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race. Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and...and, then what?

Maybe you didn’t even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Jeongguk was in Korea and you were still at home, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Jeongguk was burdensome. Worse, maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Jeongguk teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause in the room, and Jeongguk cocks his head with his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him. Suddenly, there’s small but quick thuds across the carpet and Jeongguk feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling as you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Jeongguk’s eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape in his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Jeongguk absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Jeongguk feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Jeongguk rises up to a sitting position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when you’re next to nothing away, Jeongguk wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, tightly hugging you.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck. Jeongguk smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds Jeongguk of cabbage patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jetlag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jetlag, Jeongguk realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming. 

Jeongguk kisses behind your earlobe, and just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Jeongguk was a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this. You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Jeongguk feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8. Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop- it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid's bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the confusion as he moves the hair that's across your face around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Jeongguk convinces the role of casual to perfection and bites back a sour taste when he notices you’re the same. Casual, unmoved, maybe even like it didn’t mean a thing.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, Guk, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but...Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean...the guys know I’m here. Hoseok drove me to the airport with Jimin.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. Girls will be girls.”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by it-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“Was growing it out,” Jeongguk replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Jeongguk dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Jeongguk’s underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle. The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Jeongguk even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you. That could be why Jeongguk feels the way that he does, why this confusion wraps around his body and traps him. Jeongguk knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Jeongguk knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. JEON JUNGKOOK GOES TO UK TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND...BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT BTS JUNGKOOK IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s how he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Jeongguk might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant spending one more day with you.

Jeongguk’s got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to Korea with more regrets than he came with, and for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth. Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be known on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Jeongguk doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. One tries to escape when you hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease you didn’t mention it. He wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy it.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and he’ll have to be patient.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch1: The Dog Of Thunder

Summary: Frank and Fliss attend their first scan and break the news of their pregnancy to their friends, whilst dealing with a troublesome Dog and a very, very concerned 8-almost-9 year old…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: I told you they wouldn’t be gone for too long! Hope you enjoy this one. Riding on will more than likely move through time a little faster than Riding High did, as we have some exciting milestones for our Friss to hit…but of course, there’s going to be the odd “bump” along the way (see what I did there?) Chapter Song: If I Know Me by Morgan Wallan as brought to my attention by the lovely @lovingonshawn​

This ain’t some routine that I use every Friday, this ain’t a one line, one night kiss and tell…

February 2019

“For the last time Mary, no you can’t come!” Frank exasperatedly groaned as Mary once more asked him the question she’d been pecking his head with since dinner the previous day.

“Why not?”

“Because first off you have school and second off this is a medical appointment for Fliss.” he shook his head “not a damned day out!”

“But you’re going…” “Yeah because it’s my baby!” he looked at her, shaking his head “Why am I even explaining this to you? You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Mary scowled at him and folder her arms “That is so unfair.”

“Yeah well, so is life. Get used to it.” he said.

“I only want to see the baby.” Mary said quietly. Frank paused, his coffee mug held a few inches from his mouth as he considered her for a second. He smiled softly.

“Me too Stack, I can’t wait.” he said, “Look, I know you’re excited, we all are but you still can’t come.”

“Can’t come where?” Fliss asked, yawning as she walked into the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard for the waffles.

“The scan.” Frank said, taking the packet off her and sliding the plate of already done ones over to her. She grinned at him and took a huge bite of one.

“Sorry kiddo, but we’ll make sure we bring you a photo back.” she smiled, before she turned and opened the fridge, pulling out the apple juice. Frank watched as she poured a large glass before she drained it in one. “What?” she frowned, “I’m thirsty”

“You hate apple juice.” Mary looked at her.

Fliss glanced at Mary, then to the bottle on the side, then the empty glass in her hand “Huh…guess the baby doesn’t.” she mused.

“You feeling ok?” Frank asked, reaching out to curl an arm round her waist and no sooner had his fingers brushed her skin Thor let out a low, rumbling growl. Frank groaned and stared at the dog. “Seriously, pal? Still?”

“I don’t know what’s got into him.” Fliss said, looking at him. “He’s been protective over me but not with you…”

“Hormones.” Mary said, as both Frank and Fliss turned their heads to her “I googled it when he growled at Frank last night to see why he’s been doing it for so long and in the first 3 months you get all these hormones flooding your system and that’s why you get sick and tired because you’re not used to them. Some people say that dogs and pets can also sense it and it can affect them too until they understand it’s normal.” Frank blinked as besides him Fliss gave a chuckle “Mary, you’re a little brainbox” she smiled.

“It’s all on the internet.” she shrugged “I was curious. According to one vet it can make female animals think they are pregnant too and the males feel like they have to protect their person.” “Well he needs to quit.” Frank looked at Thor “Or he’ll be sleeping outside, predicted cold front and rain or not.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at Frank and he shrugged “What? Isn’t he supposed to be the God of Thunder, or should that be the Dog of Thunder…”

Mary let out a snort as Fliss glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Nope, he wouldn’t “ Mary grinned “When Fred was new he used to tell me he was gonna kick him out all the time.” “He shredded the sofa.” Frank looked at her. “He was a baby.” Mary said, swallowing the last of her toast.

“Whatever. You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, go get your stuff I’ll walk you down to the bus stop.” “I can go on my own…” Mary retorted.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her.  “Make sure you get your jacket, it’s cold out…” With a groan Mary pushed off her chair, carried her empty plate to the sink where she placed it inside and shuffled off. Fliss moved to put it in the dishwasher and when she straightened up, Frank looped his arms round her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I’m already hoping Bean is a boy?” Frank sighed, his hand gently splaying over Fliss’ stomach, the pair of them ignoring the thunder-like growl coming from the very aptly named dog who was sat eyeing Frank beadily.

Fliss laughed, her hand falling on top of his. “Not quite sure you’ll cope with 3 girls huh?”

“I’ll have lost all my hair by the time I’m 40.” he sighed.

“Hmmm, that’s only like 2 years away…” she grinned, turning in his arms.

“2 years and a month, actually.” he narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

“Details…” she grinned as he placed a soft kiss to her lips, Thor’s growl growing even louder.

“Right, seriously…” he broke away to look at the dog who stared at him, Fliss’ laughter growing louder. The dog’s lip curled up in a snarl before he looked at Fliss when she spoke to him sternly.

“Thor, no.”

He stopped immediately, his tail wagging.

“I can’t cope with this for another 6 months every time I wanna touch you.” Frank wined and Fliss pondered something for a second.

“The Vet is coming to the yard today to do the routine visits. I’ll take him up there his afternoon, see if he has any advice.” she shrugged.

Frank nodded. “Ok.”

At that point Mary came back, her jacket on and her bag over her shoulder. “Ready.”

“Have a good day.” Fliss called as the two of them, headed to the door, Frank picking up his dark blue coat as he went, Thor ambling behind.

“Oh, so now you’re my friend…” Frank mumbled, and the dog simply wagged his tail in response as Frank looked back at Fliss “It’s like he has a split personality!”

Fliss grinned as Frank shook his head once more and spoke to Thor as they headed out into the chilly morning sun.

“Fickle bastard…”

********* “Good morning!”  Frank and Fliss both looked up as a woman in her mid to late 40s swept into the consultation room, smiling at them both. “Miss Gallagher?”

“Yeah…” Fliss nodded.

“Hi I’m Dr Kent.” she smiled, “And you’re dad I assume?” she turned to Frank.

“Hi.” Frank smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you Mr…”

“Adler…Frank.”

“Ok so, I gather this is your first scan?”

Fliss nodded.

“And your notes say you estimate between 11 to 13 weeks is that correct?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded.

“Right, just a few questions and we’ll get on with it. How have you been? Is there anything worrying you?”

“Not really, I mean my morning sickness seems to come in waves.” Fliss shrugged “Some days I’m ok, some days I’m a little off colour for a few hours and then others its 24 hour sickness”

“Are you managing to keep hydrated?”

“Mostly” she nodded.

“Any trouble sleeping?” “No.” Fliss shook her head as Frank snorted.

“It’s keeping her awake that’s the issue.”

Fliss glared at him as the Doctor laughed. “Yes, tiredness is common in the first few months especially but you should feel most of this ease off between 16 to 20 weeks…at which point I hate to say it but you trade it for a whole other set of stuff.” “Great.” Fliss grumbled.

Doctor Kent smiled sympathetically and then clapped her hands together. “Right, you ready to see Baby…oh, is it Gallagher or Adler, or-”

“Adler…” both Frank and Fliss said at the same time. The both looked at one another, neither of them had discussed that at all, and they both gave a gentle as the Doctor nodded, switching on the machine.

“Ok, just lift your top up…yup, just like that and…this is gonna feel cold ok?” she asked, squeezing the gel onto Fliss’ stomach. Grabbing the wand she pressed it onto her belly, moving it around until she stopped and smiled, as the sound of their baby’s heartbeat suddenly hit their ears.

“Here we go…” she smiled, turning the screen to face them allowing both Frank, and Fliss to see their baby for the first time.

“Oh Frankie, look…” Fliss whispered, her head turned towards the screen as Frank took her hand in his, his gaze completely focussed on the shape. You could clearly make out it was a tiny human. A head, 2 arms, two legs…his eyes misted over instantly as he saw his baby on the screen in front of him, somehow making all this seem so much more real. He could see it! He could hear it! He looked at Fliss as she turned to face him, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the place just underneath where their fingers were joined.

“Everything is perfect.” The Doctor spoke “I can’t see any abnormalities at all. Your baby is absolutely fine and healthy…”

Fliss let out the breath she had been holding and Frank squeezed her hand. They were through the most dangerous part and their baby was fine, it was all going to be perfectly fine.

And he couldn’t be more happy or relived.

“I estimate from this that you’re nearer 13 weeks than 11…” The doctor continued. “So I would predict a due date of…” she tapped at the keyboard and smiled at them both “21st August.”

She wiped Fliss’ stomach clean, allowing her to move her top back down before she stood up.

“You have any questions for me?” “Oh, erm…when am I likely to start showing?” Fliss asked, “I mean I’ve been putting on a bit of weight I know that as my jeans are a little tight but I read on the internet that a lot of people get a 12 week pop and…” The doctor shook her head, smiling “Firstly, everyone is different. Your lifestyle, muscle mass, weight are all contributing factors. Try not to worry about it too much, your baby is growing correctly and you’ll notice soon enough.”

Fliss pouted and Frank had to laugh. He knew what she was grumbling about. She’d complained the other day that her pants wouldn’t fasten and she was stood in front of the mirror moaning that it didn’t even look like a bump merely like she’d eaten a few too many pizzas. When Frank had pointed out she had been eating like a pig in all fairness, mainly chomping through ready-made toasting waffles and apples like they were going out of fashion, she’d thrown a pillow at his head whilst he had run from the room laughing.

“I’ll just get sort you a copy of the photo and some information about the Lamaze classes and everything else and then you can be on your way. Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, as she headed for the door.

“13 weeks…” Frank smiled as Fliss sat up “That confirms it’s definitely a made in Boston Bean”

Fliss laughed as he stood up, kissing her cheek as he went, the pair of them stopping as her stomach let out a huge growl. Frank looked at her, his eyebrow raised before his hand fell to her stomach.

“Is Bean hungry?” “So is Mumma.” she grinned.

“Well that goes without saying…” he teased.

“Hey I’m cooking another person here, pal, it’s hungry work….oh, can we go to the Waffle house? I could murder a chocolate and strawberries special. And apple juice.” “We can go wherever you want.” he smiled. “I’m yours for the entire day.”

“Even H&M?”

Frank hesitated before he groaned “Fine.” he looked at her before he grinned cheekily “You do need some new jeans after all…” “Bastard!” she snorted, slapping his arm and he gave a laugh.

***** Frank parked the truck up and climbed out to shove a couple of bucks in the meter. When he came back he looked at Fliss who was leaning on the door, arms folded.

“You do this in purpose?”

“What?” he frowned.

She nodded to the store he had managed to park outside, and he turned to see he’d inadvertently picked a spot outside a little independent baby boutique called Bloomers.

“Fuck, no!” he laughed and Fliss gave him a grin as he took her hand. They both turned to head towards the Waffle place but Fliss hesitated as she looked through the window of the shop. Frank waited for her, a soft smile on his face. He’d been itching to buy the baby something but Fliss had point blank refused to allow him or anyone else to do so until they had the confirmation from the scan to tell her everything was ok. She’d confided in Frank that she didn’t want to edge her bets, she felt that everything was just going too perfect for them after such a shitty run of events and she was waiting for something to come along and fuck it up.

Frank had tried to reason with her, tell her that she was worrying about nothing but she’d gotten herself so worked up that in the end it had been easier to appease her, but now…well, she held that confirmation that it was all ok in a little black and white photo in her purse. Their baby was fine, healthy and strong and…fuck, they were gonna be parents in another 6 months or so.

“You wanna go in?” he asked. She turned to him with a grin and nodded.

Frank held the door open for her and they walked into the little boutique, the pair of them stopping still as they looked around. There was so much baby stuff, Frank started to feel a little overwhelmed and suddenly thrown back 9 years or so to when he had been in a similar shop with Diane when she’d been preparing to have Mary.

It struck him then how the two situations couldn’t have been more different. For starters they had the support of family behind them right from the off. Bill and Verity had been over the moon when they had found out Fliss was expecting, even if it had come as a bit of a surprise. More so because they hadn't been planning on revealing their news quite the way it came out.  They'd agreed that they would announce their engagement first and get Christmas out of the way, for no particular reason really other than Fliss' brother would be over for New Years and they could tell the family together once they had broken the news to Mary first.

But, well, best laid plans and all that…

“Oh Lissy…” Verity gushed, tears in her eyes as she looked at Fliss’ ring “I’m so happy for you…”

“Thanks Mum!” Fliss smiled, her own tears spilling own her cheeks as Bill shook Frank’s hand furiously, before pulling him in for a manly hug.

“Thank you…” Bill muttered into his ear, so that no one could hear him. “Thank you for wanting to look after her…”

“Always.” Frank nodded as the man stepped back, smiling at him.

“Well, we need to crack that champagne open that we bought…” Verity pulled back. “Bill…”

“We have one in the fridge already.” Frank smiled, “We’ll save yours for later on with dinner.”

The champagne had been shared, Fliss having a small glass which she secretly topped up with a little lemonade so as not to spark too much suspicion, Mary also having a flute of fizzy apple juice before they settled down, exchanged gifts and then sat at the table for dinner. And all was going so well until Bill’s sharp eyes noticed Fliss wasn’t drinking wine.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache.” Fliss said, when he quizzed her about it, but even as she spoke she felt her cheeks flush.

“Right, you’re not pregnant then?” Bill snorted at his own joke.

“Oh Bill, stop it!” Verity nudged him, shaking her head.

Frank felt his neck beginning to warm as he glanced at Fliss, the pair of them trying to brush it off by smiling, but Bill’s eyes widened as he observed the pair of them and his mouth fell open “Jesus Christ you are…”

“What are you talking about?” Verity snorted “Of course she’s…” she trailed off as Fliss locked eyes with her and gave a sigh.

“We didn’t’ want to tell you yet, not until Steve was here and we’d spoken to Mary…”

“You’re having a baby?” Mary looked at Fliss, her eyes wide “Frank’s baby?”

“Well who else’s would it be?” Frank looked at Mary. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shook his head “We wanted to tell you first Stack, but we we’re gonna wait until after Christmas and we’d had a few days ourselves to get used to the idea...” “Few days?” Verity whispered and Fliss glanced at her mum whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears “When did you find out?” “Yesterday morning.” Fliss said softly “I didn’t tell Frank until the evening…”

“I’m sorry Titch…” Bill spluttered, his eyes also misting over said, “I didn’t for one second think you would be…”

With that he pushed his chair back and strode round to the other side of the table, Fliss rising to her feet to greet him in one of his famous bear hugs as he kissed her cheek before she turned to her mum who embraced her gently, sniffling as she did so.

When Verity released Fliss, she turned to Frank who was currently having his own back slapped once again by Bill before he turned just in time to see Mary was stood on her chair, but before he could tell her to sit down she’d launched herself at him.

“Oh my God this is so cool!” she said as Frank chuckled, catching her and then adjusting his arms so she was safely held “A baby?”

“Yeah…”

She turned to Fliss who moved towards the two of them, Frank shifting slightly as Mary leaned back in his arms to place hers round Fliss’ neck before he smiled at his girl as she turned back to her parents.

“We know it might be a bit sudden...” she said, her hands wringing together like they always did when she was a bit nervous “…and no it wasn’t planned- my bad, and yes, maybe we should have been married first but we’re happy and excited and…”

“Basically I gave her a diamond, she gives me a baby.” Frank kissed her cheek, cutting her ramblings off because he could tell she was spiralling. And there was no need to. Not one person in the room had reacted badly to their news.

“Fair swap I suppose.” Bill shrugged, his eyes shining. “No, it’s great news…it really…”

He trailed off shrugging, unable to find anything else to say. There was a moment’s silence before Mary let out a chuckle as she leaned back in Frank’s arms to look at him, her hands squishing his cheeks.

“This is the best Christmas EVER!”

Frank had been overwhelmed with how much love and joy had filled the room for something that was barely the size of a bean at that point. He’d called his mother later on in the evening as Fliss had said it was only fair and she’d been rather choked up too, a stark contrast to how she’d received the news of Diane’s pregnancy. But then, as Frank had said to Fliss later on as they lay in bed, the Evelyn he was getting to know now was certainly different in his eyes to the woman she had been back then, and he had a suspicion that wasn’t completely down to her, but also how he was viewing her as well. But, then, how could things not be different after everything they had been through?

He glanced over as Fliss tugged on his hand and began to lead him over to the various displays of clothing. He tossed a glance at one of the strollers that was in the middle of the store on a slightly raised plinth, doing a double take when he saw the price tag.

“How much?” he spluttered and Fliss turned to look at him, then the offending item and gave a soft laugh “Yeah, they’re not cheap…but we don’t need to worry about that yet, or cribs and stuff…to be fair we should probably be more concerned with where we’re gonna live…”

“Yeah I know.” Frank took a deep breath.

“Hey…” Fliss looked at him “Frank it’s not a problem…” “Yeah you said” he nodded.

She frowned “What’s eatin’ you Sailor?” “Just, well, I wasn’t anticipating this when I took an 18 month lease out. I don’t like the idea of them not having their own room. I did that with Mary and I want this to be right.” “It’s no big deal.” Fliss smiled “Mary turned out ok and Bean will be in our room for about 6 months anyway, we have plenty of time…” “I know but I’d still rather be able to move beforehand if we can.” he shrugged

“Why?” she pressed.

“Because I want them to have a nursery.” he flushed slightly “I’d like to decorate one for them…stuff I should have done for Mary.”

“And you can.” Fliss reached up to cup his cheek “Frank, it isn’t the be all and end all though. No one’s gonna think any less of you if there isn’t one ready and waiting.” “Who says that’s what…” he trailed off when she shot him a look and he sighed “Busted?” “Well and truly.” she smiled.

“I know you’re right.” he chewed the inside of his cheek, “But it can’t hurt to give the landlord a call and explain can it? You never know, he might be happy to let us out of it early. It was me that pushed for a long term lease so…”

Fliss shrugged “Nope, you’re right it can’t hurt…” she stopped as something caught her eye and she started laughing “Oh my god, Frankie look…”

She picked up a baby grow that was a pale, lemon yellow colour with a white sailboat on the front. “Look, a mini sailor…”

Frank snorted “If you get that we need one with a horse on the front to balance it out, seeing as we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet.” “Hey, girls can sail and boys can ride.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Stop being sexist Francis”

At that he let out a loud laugh, a really loud laugh, which caused the assistant to look over at them both.

“I’m getting it.” Fliss said, definitively, picking it up.

“I’ll buy it.” he said gently, reaching for it.

“Why?”

“Fliss, don’t start!” he said, laughing again “Look, just…let me buy my baby’s first stuff, please.” She cocked her head to one side, and he thought she was going to argue again but then that gorgeous smile spread across her face and she handed it to him.

“You’re such a softie.” she leaned up to give him a gentle kiss. They browsed for a bit longer, before her stomach let out another growl and Frank decided enough was enough. He gently began to lead her over to the till when she pulled on his hand again and grinned as she picked up a pair of tiny white Converse trainers

“They match Mary’s…”

“Yeah, and at almost thirty bucks they can stay matching…on the shelf.” he grumbled.

“Bean needs them.” she looked at him.

“No, Bean doesn’t need them…”

“Does…” she said, her hand falling to her stomach as she batted her eyelashes at him.

“Is this how it’s gonna be for the next 6 months or so? Basically every time I say no to something you’re gonna play this card?” he looked at her, his eyebrow raising.

“Pretty much.” she nodded.

“Fucks sake…” he shook his head before he let out an annoyed chuckle, “Fine…get the damned sneakers.”

*****

After a bite to eat they headed home to get Thor and took him up to the yard. Before the Vet started his routine examinations the horses, Fliss asked if there was anything they could do to make Thor more comfortable. After seeing first-hand what they were trying to describe when Frank had dropped an arm round her shoulder, the Vet had suggested they could give him a mild sedative. But when Frank had realised that this would make him dopey, he had refused almost as vehemently as Fliss had. He knew it wasn’t Thor’s fault the poor dog as feeling the way he was, plus if Frank was honest, he liked the way he knew the dog would protect Fliss. Ok so she didn’t need it at home but it was comforting to know when she wasn’t that she was safe.

“Other than that it’s a case of riding it out.”  Scott, the vet shrugged “Our dog was a little off for about 4 months when my wife was expecting our first. For our second and third, well, he couldn’t care less.”

Frank looked at Fliss “Ok so he only needs a kennel for a few weeks then.” “My dog is NOT living in a kennel.” Fliss shot over her shoulder as she followed the vet over to the first stable which was Cap’s, Thor trotting behind her as always. “Oh, can you grab me a water from the office?” “Sure.” Frank nodded as Fliss carried on after the vet who entered the stall and Cap immediately looked at him suspiciously.

“He remembers from last year.” Scott chuckled and Fliss let out a snort.

“Probably. I wish he’d take a leaf out of Heidi’s books. She’s such a good girl for stuff like this.” Fliss slipped the halter over Cap’s head, gently stroking his nose as the vet felt all down his legs and listened to his heart. By the time Frank reappeared the Vet was checking Cap’s eyes then his ears and Fliss had a hold of the rope connected to his halter, wrapped once around his nose to keep control of him.

“Stop…being…an…ass…” She said as he jerked his head up again, attempting to get out of the vet’s reach. “Come on Cap…” she stroked his nose softly and he lowered his head, giving her a filthy look as he did so. The vet then managed to check his teeth which were fine and moved back to his bag to retrieve his kit for the annual vaccination shot.

“Erm…” Scott looked at Fliss “I’m not sure it’s wise you being here if he’s gonna go mad like he did last year.” he said, his eyes flicking down to her stomach. Fliss hesitated, she was about to tell him where to get off when Frank spoke.

“Honey, he’s right.”

She turned to face him, glaring at him and he met her stare with one of his own, completely unperturbed and unwilling to back down. When she realised this she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll get Joanne.” She grumbled, opening the stable door and stalking past him.

Frank let out a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. Scott chuckled a little and looked at him. “She’ll get used to it. Not being able to do certain things, I mean.” Frank snorted “I’m not so sure. She’s so damned headstrong…that’s why she likes him so much.” he nodded to the black and white horse in question “Kindred spirits.” A couple of minutes later Fliss came back, Joanne following and the blonde girl headed into the stall, taking hold of the rope.

“We may as well go then.” Fliss turned to Frank. He frowned.

“You don’t want to stay?” “What’s the point, I’m not needed.” she said, her tone clipped.

He exchanged a look with Joanne who rolled her eyes

“Fliss, no one said that. You just you need to be a little bit more careful…” Joanne tried to appease her but Fliss was having none of it. “I can be careful at home.” she snapped and then turned to Frank “Can we go?”

“Sure.” Frank shrugged.

“Call me if there’s anything I need to know, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fliss said without looking at Joanne as she left.

Frank shot Joanne an apologetic look as he followed Fliss out of the barn and towards the truck.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked.

“Was what necessary?” she shot back, yanking the door to the truck open to let Thor hop into the back.

“You know full well what.” he looked at her as she slammed the door shut and move to the passenger one “There was no need to speak to Joanne like that, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, no one did anything wrong…”

“Other than telling me I can’t do my job…” came the retort as Fliss sank into the passenger seat, once more slamming the door shut.

“Cowgirl, I hate to break it to you, but for a little while you’re gonna have to take it easy.” he said, shaking his head as he climbed in after her. “You can’t ride and you can’t put yourself in a position where you might get hurt…”

She folded her arms across her chest, staring out of the front window sullenly. “So basically I can’t do my job, like I just said…” “You own and manage the stables.” Frank said, his temper starting to flare a little as he drove the truck down the drive to the road.

“I’m well aware of that thank you…” “So own and manage then, Fliss!” he said loudly. Behind them on the back seat Thor began to growl at his raised voice.

“I do!” she blazed back, “What kind of stupid comment is that?”

“No, you do everything.” he snapped back, shaking his head, ignoring the dog. “You promoted Joanne so that you could take a step back and for a while you did, but then it all started creeping back up again and you took more of that control back…” Fliss looked at him, before she turned away, staring out of the window as Thor’s growls died down. She knew Frank was right, she had started taking bits of tasks back off Joanne. Not on purpose, not really, but because she felt like she should be doing more. She didn’t like feeling out of control, not after spending so long being forced to be for no particular reason other than her ex was an abusive ass hole.

“Honey I get it.” Frank sighed, as he saw her reach up to wipe her eyes. “It’s your business, but that doesn’t mean you have to be on the front lines all the time. Look at Alan, I see him max once a month…the rest of the time he leaves it to me and the other team leaders to run. That’s the whole point!” “I know.” Fliss said quietly, “I’m a control freak, I get it…guess I spent so much time not being in control of my life and my career I just…”

Frank took a deep breath his hand reaching out for hers. Once more ignoring the dog on the back seat he tangled his fingers into hers and raised his hand to her mouth, pressing his lips softly to her wrist.

“Being driven isn’t a bad thing sweetheart.” he said softly “In fact it’s one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place. But, certainly for the next few months you need to just step back, let others do the work for you. You can still boss them about from the side lines.” “I don’t boss-“ she started and he looked at her eyebrow raised and she let out a chuckle “ok, maybe I do a little…” “Because you’re entitled to.” he said “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do and I have no intentions of making you stop work or anything like that but, well, it’s not just you now, you got Bean to think about and I worry ok?” “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Apologies accepted and World War 3 avoided, Frank smiled at her and she smiled back as he let go of her hand so he could turn the truck up the lane onto the freeway.

“So…” he said, changing the subject “How do you want to tell the Circle of Truth our news.” She grinned and turned to look at him “I had an idea…” Turns out her idea was simple. Giggling to themselves once they go home they arranged the scan photo, the baby-grow and the trainers on the dining table, snapped a photo and fired it out to the group text accompanied simply by the words “Coming August 2019…”

Immediately both their phones started to ring, Greg was on to Frank, and Bonnie onto Fliss. Whilst Greg was slightly more reserved, Bonnie was almost screaming in excitement demanding to know all the details.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” she scoffed and Fliss smiled. “We didn’t tell anyone other than family.” she said “With everything that has happened I was so scared something might go wrong. You’re not cross are you?”

“Cross, no of course not! This is amazing!” Bonnie gushed “So, what happened first, you gotta tell me…the proposal or finding that out?”

Fliss beamed “No, Frank proposed before he knew. Which makes me even happier because he wanted me to marry him because of me, not out of any duty or feeling it was the right thing to do.”

“Of course he wanted to marry you.” Bonnie scoffed “That goes without saying. Oh I’m so excited, I can’t wait.”

Bonnie’s reaction paled into insignificance to Roberta’s. When they collected Mary from the school bus they told her that she could go and tell Roberta the news she’d been dying to tell her since Christmas, so she skipped ahead, banging on the woman’s door. When Mary blurted out Fliss was pregnant and Frank passed her the scan photo she paused for a moment before her head raised to look at them both and she burst into tears and it took them a good half an hour to calm her down. Once she’d assured them she was fine and couldn’t wait for unofficial Nanny duties, the 3 of them headed home where they decided that Pizza was on the menu for the evening. Along with waffles for Fliss, of course.

After stuffing their faces they sat on the sofa, the scan photo placed on the coffee table, Frank catching Mary looking at it every so often. When it hit 8 pm and he told her it was time for bed, she grumbled as usual until Frank shot her a look and she sighed dramatically, shuffling to the edge of the seat she had been occupying between them both.

She glanced at the scan photo before she turned to Fliss and looked at her.

“I really am happy you’re having a baby.” she smiled “It’s been so hard not telling everyone at school, especially Rosie.”

Fliss smiled at her and Frank reached out, rubbing Mary’s back. “Well you can tell who you want now Stack.” “You know you’re gonna have to stop calling me that.” she turned to look at him “Because when Bean is born, it’s gonna be the shortest one out of us all.” “You’ll always be short stack to me.” Frank smirked “Or I could change it to squirt, or pain-in-the-ass…” “You’re so lame…” Mary rolled her eyes.

Frank gave a sarcastic laugh. “ha ha ha.”

“Can Rosie come for dinner on Friday?” She looked at Fliss, and Fliss immediately glanced at Frank. They’d heard a lot about the girl from Mary, and Bonnie had said they were thick as thieves at school which pleased Frank, the fact that she was actually forging proper friendships but she’d never asked them if she could have a friend over.

“Of course.” Fliss nodded. “You can ask her tomorrow and then I can speak to her mom if you want? Maybe she can sleep over?” “Hmmm.” Mary thought about it “I’m not sure about that, but dinner would be good.”

Frank looked at Fliss again “What aren’t you sure about?”

She shrugged “I dunno, I kinda like my own time in the evening.” “What are you, ninety?” Frank looked at her and she glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“She can come for dinner.” Fliss said, cutting across what was threatening to spark into a childish tit-for-tat insult trading game “Ask her tomorrow and then I’ll speak to her mom ok?”

“How will you speak to her mom?” “I’ll call her.” “Do you have her number?” “No but you can get it for me.” Fliss looked at Mary “Or I’ll come pick you up and catch her at School…” “Stop worrying about stuff…” Frank said exasperatedly “We’ll sort it ok? Now come on, bed!”

Mary stood up and she looked once more at the scan photo “Is it wrong that I already love the baby, like loads?”

“No, it’s not wrong.” Fliss smiled at her.

“I mean know it’s like just my cousin and not my brother or sister or anything but…” Mary trailed off shrugging. “Hey.” Fliss looked at her, frowning slightly as she reached out to tuck Mary’s now quite long hair behind her ear, “It’s not just your cousin. Bean’s gonna be living with you, looking up to you, annoying the hell out of you, following you…and they’re gonne love you, learn from you…you’ll be just the same as a big sister so don’t even for one minute think any differently, ok?”

Marry nodded and turned to hug Fliss, then to Frank who pulled her onto his lap, kissing her forehead.

“I know you’re only my uncle but I really wish you were my dad.” Mary said, her voice quiet. Frank looked at Fliss, swallowing as his girl wore a look on her face that he had no words to describe other than one of utter heartbreak and love as her eyes sprang with tears and he felt his own water.

“Only your Uncle?” he said, his voice cracking as he attempted to make a joke “Charming…” “You know what I mean.” Mary shrugged.

Frank sighed. It was the first time Mary had ever said anything like that to him. He felt uneasy labelling himself as her father. Granted, a lot of people automatically assumed he was, and if they weren’t people he knew, or would meet again, he didn’t bother correcting them because it wasn’t needed. Fliss had told him time and time again, no matter how much he hated it, he was Mary’s father by-proxy, even if she didn’t call him that, and he got that yes, but he still wanted Mary to know about Diane, even if he had brought her up. For that reason, he would never be referred to as her father, nor would she ever call him Dad, but he’d love her like he was every single day of his life.

“Look…” he sighed, pulling back to look down at her. “I promised I’d always look after you…well, until I get too old and you put me in a nursing home.” at that she laughed a little “Isn’t that what a dad does?”

Mary nodded “Yeah…”

“What’s wrong Stack?” he asked softly, he could see that she wasn’t completely placated.

“When the baby comes…you’re not gonna love me any less are you?” She asked, looking at him.

“Fuck, no!” Frank blurted out, at the same time Fliss exclaimed

“Of course not!”

Frank shook his head “Mary, I couldn’t love you any more if I tried, regardless of whether you were actually my kid or not. And Fliss feels the same.” “Of course I do.” Fliss looked at her

“So please don’t worry about that or think that for a single second ok?”

“Ok.” She sniffed, before she grinned at Frank “You said the F word.”

“Yeah, well you drove me to it.” he shrugged “And here’s another swear for you. If I ever hear stupid shit like that come outta your mouth again…there’s gonna be real trouble. Stack, you have nothing to worry about ok. I promise you from the bottom of my heart. Lissy too.”

Fliss nodded “I already tell the people I work with when they ask who the girl is on the website that she’s my Mary”

“You do?”

“Course.” she nodded, “Because you are.”

Mary took a deep breath before she nodded “Ok. Can I watch TV in my room for a while?”

Frank sighed “20 minutes, max…”

Mary nodded and then looked at him again. “Can I take the photo of Bean for my wall?”

“We were gonna stick it on the fridge, so we can all share it.” Frank looked at her “But tell you what, you take it tonight and then we’ll make a copy for you to keep permanently ok?”

“Can I take my copy to school?”

“You can stick it on your head for all I care.” Frank shrugged.

“Well that’s just dumb…” she scoffed, hopping down off his knee. Fliss and Frank watched her leave before Frank looked at Fliss, letting out a deep breath.

“Do you think she feels left out, already?” “No.” Fliss said, shaking her head “She’s just a little concerned things are going to change for her, and I understand why Frank. Stuff is gonna change around here, there’s no denying that and it’s going to be strange for her. Especially as she’s had so many changes to put up with over the last 18 months. You know, she had you to herself for so long and then I turned up, and then I moved in and suddenly there’s a wedding and a baby on the way. It’s happened fast and-“ “Too fast?” Frank looked at Fliss, his face betraying his worry and Fliss shook her head.

“No, not at all. I love you, and I have no doubt I want to spend the rest of my life with you and yes, this baby wasn’t planned but, I’m happy. All I’m saying is that it’s been a huge thing for us, and we’re adults. For an almost 9 year old then it’s bound to be overwhelming.” “I just don’t want her to worry about her ever having to leave us again.” he sighed. “Or that I’m gonna replace her with my actual kid…”

“She doesn’t.” Fliss assured him. “Not really. Look, try not to think about it too much ok? Let’s enjoy this you know? It’s scary, really scary…” she smiled “but it’s also exciting!” “Yeah, yeah it is…” Frank smiled and shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to Fliss’ stomach as he placed a tender kiss to her lips.

And right on cue the thunder once more rumbled from Thor’s throat.

[irontinystar]

im aware that i just sent one in but your writing is so cute and amazing to read so hope you don't mind - what about a duo? 31 and 39?

I’m so grateful you like my writing enough to ask me another prompt, it’s literally so heartwarming to hear!!

Thank you so much, I hope you like this as well!!

prompts 31 and 39 from this list

Near, far, wherever you are

Stevetony, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, 2k words

For their anniversary that night, Tony has prepared the best of dates. He’s gonna cook all afternoon, so that when Steve is gonna come home that evening after a tiring day, he’s going to find a delicious dinner.

Then, after they’ve eaten, they’re gonna watch a movie Steve has never seen and that Tony still can’t wrap his head around the fact he hasn’t.

So Tony comes home early after a series of SI meetings. He has spent the whole conference thinking about what he’s gonna prepare for his husband, not really paying attention to the discussion. He drops the jacket as soon as he gets to the door, unknots his tie and rolls up his sleeves.

“FRIDAY, darling, put on some music” he asks loudly, and his AI complies right away, playing smooth jazz in the background.

Tony smiles by himself, before approaching the kitchen and putting on an apron with the writing ’kiss the cook’ in a fancy font on the front. He meddles around with pots and ladles, trying to follow an old recipe he has found out Steve loves. It’s a little difficult, and he’s not that good of a cook himself. Usually, he just gives up and orders take away, but tonight he has decided he’s going to do his best to make it.

Plus, he’s enjoying his time, so that’s really not a problem. He swings around the kitchen singing out loud along Frank Sinatra, pretending to hold a mic instead of a wooden spoon, but he suddenly curses under his breath when he realises the flame under the pot is maybe a little too high for the pasta he’s cooking.

He grunts but manages to fix the thing before it can become a mess.

“FRI, maybe you should tone the music down a little” he calls, frowning. It’s better if he focuses on the recipe instead of his singing skills.

He’s fixing the last details when he hears the door clicking open and loud steps coming in. He smiles again; even though they’re married for five years, it’s always exciting to see his husband after a long day.

Tony steps out of the kitchen to welcome Steve, and he grins even more when he sees him all ruffled from his rough day.

“Hi husband” Tony greets with a smirk.

Steve turns up his head to fix his eyes on Tony. He beams. “Back at you” he teases, before getting closer.

Tony smiles again, can’t help smiling, and when Steve wraps his arms around him, he leans into his broad chest almost melting. “You should go wash your hands” he warns. “Dinner’s ready.”

He loops his arms around Steve’s neck and mindlessly plays with his hair.

Steve frowns. “First I want a kiss” he complains, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Na-ha” he denies with a resolute expression. “It’s gonna cool down.”

“But I’m legitimately obligated to kiss you” Steve claps back, even more resolute than Tony, and his eyes fall on his apron.

Tony follows his eyes and looks at the piece of clothing too, chuckling lightly. “You’re a shrewd man, Rogers” he jokes. “One only” he then states, leaning into Steve and leaving a light peck on his mouth, so quickly that Steve can’t even reply to it, before dodging away from his embrace.

“Hey!” Steve calls, but Tony is already heading to the dining room. “That wasn’t a kiss!” he moans, followed by Tony’s laughter.

“First, dinner. Then, kisses” he orders, and Steve rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

They eat chatting about this and that, joking and laughing like they always do, and Tony finds himself grinning again, at the thought that it’s always been the same between he and Steve, every moment seems like their first date, like their going out before they even were a thing, every time they’re at ease and just so in love it doesn’t look like a single day has passed.

“What are you smiling for?” Steve asks stuffing his mouth with food, a wondering expression on his face, and Tony giggles a little embarrassed.

He shrugs, feeling his neck blushing. They’re married, for god’s sake, he shouldn’t blush at that.

“Because I love you” he lets out earnestly, and Steve smiles too, his face softening right away.

“I love you too, baby” he assures with an adoring voice, reaching out with his hand to take Tony’s one resting on the table. He strokes his fingers before entangling them with his own. “Forever, right?” he asks brushing at the gold ring around Tony’s finger.

Tony smiles and cocks his head. “Forever” he grants in reply.

Once they’ve finished eating, Tony pushes Steve to the living room, too excited for the rest of the evening.

“I’m not gonna watch The empire strikes back again, I’m telling you” Steve states, letting Tony lead him to the couch. “I mean, I love you to pieces, but not to the point of watching that movie another time.”

Tony laughs heartily. “No, honey, I promise it’s not Star Wars.” He props up a dvd case to show it to him.

Steve frowns. “Titanic?” he asks dubiously.

“Titanic!” Tony repeats but with a loud voice. “You still haven’t seen it and it’s unacceptable” he scoffs.

Steve rolls his eyes. “There are a lot of things I still haven’t seen” he points out taking a seat on the couch. He raises one arm so that Tony can crawl next to him, before putting his hand on his opposite shoulder.

Tony looks up at him. “I know, and we’re going to fix it” he assures nodding.

Steve leaves a kiss on the tip of his nose, making Tony scrunch it. “Alright, I’m in your hands” he concedes.

Smirking, Tony giggles. “You sure are.”

He puts on the dvd and the movie starts playing. Tony shifts a little on the couch, so to rest his head on Steve’s chest more comfortably, before beginning to comment out loud some scenes here and there. It is something that their other teammates had always hated during movie night. Tony still remembers the glares Clint would direct at him when he complained about the inaccuracies in the movies, but Steve once told him he loved to hear his opinions, so Tony never stopped doing it.

And now that it’s just the two of them, he comments loudly without holding back his thoughts.

Steve hums along him, asking some questions when he doesn’t really get what’s going on, and Tony is more than glad to explain it to him. It gives him such a bust of pride to be of Steve’s help.

“You might want to try this sometime” he teases when the scene of Jack drawing a naked Rose comes on. He turns up his head just in time to see Steve blushing all over.

“Shut up” he scoffs embarrassed, and Tony grins.

For the rest of the movie he can see Steve is really entertained. His eyes never leave the screen, and his lips are slightly parted in the way he always does when he’s focused on what he’s watching. Tony steals glances of him and feels his chest growing bigger with fondness.

He almost startles when he hears a couple of muffled gulps over his head. He frowns in confusion and looks up to see Steve tearing up. Slow tears are running down his cheeks, while he tries to avoid it by sniffling.

Tony’s immediate concern softens: on the screen Rose, laying on the relict of a door in the middle of the ocean, is trying to wake up a frozen Jack. That scene would always make him cry too when he was younger, but he has to admit he’s seen the movie like a dozen times, so now his chest just tightens without him tearing up.

Apparently, Steve really has a soft heart, what will all this young desperate lovers have to part because one of the two has frozen to death.

Tony suddenly stills in mild panic.

Shit. He has forgotten.

He has totally forgotten about Steve’s past. Oh god, how could he have been so dumb? Of course Steve is crying his heart out- he literally lost Peggy in an accident just as soon as they had professed their love for each other, and good god, he literally fell into the ocean and froze to death.

“Steve-“ he tries, brushing his fingers on Steve’s hand around his waist.

Steve sniffs. “Don’t worry about me” he bubbles with thick voice, but Tony has already stopped the movie.

“Hey” he calls again, looking up at him with concern. “Don’t cry” he whispers. He reaches up with his hand and settles it on Steve’s jaw, and the man leans into it.

“I’m sorry” Tony murmurs. “I really am.”

Steve shakes his head firmly. “Don’t worry” he repeats, but when he threatens to cry again, Tony shifts their positions, making Steve lay down with his head in his lap.

“Shh” he hums cradling his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. We can change movie.” He damns himself. This had to be a perfect night and here he goes ruining it because he’s inconsiderate and can’t even remember such an important thing as Steve’s past.

He trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, and the man sniffs another time.

“It’s really not a problem” he reassures, but he curls up on Tony’s lap, nosing into his stomach.

“I should have known this could trigger you” Tony murmurs, and it’s not even a justification, but mostly a reproach against himself, how terrible of an husband he actually is.

Steve looks at him from under his wet eyelashes. He frowns. “What?” he asks in confusion.

Tony’s jaw twitches, as he keeps on stroking his thumb on Steve’s scalp. “Yeah, making you relive the freezing thing- I should have thought about it” he makes his eyes wander around, not really able to look at Steve, seeing on his face the evidence of his disappointment, but Steve frowns even more.

“Tony, no” he calls. “That’s not- I didn’t cry because of that” he states, and Tony gets even more confused at the blush on his cheeks.

“Even though it actually seems a more appropriate reason” Steve bubbles turning down his eyes.

“Then what is it?” Tony asks with concern, his fingers lifting Steve’s chin to make him look at him.

The other man smiles sheepishly, his eyes still veiled with tears. “I just-“ he trails. “I can’t lose you, Tony” he admits.

His hand comes up too, covering Tony’s still resting on his face. Steve brushes his ring like he did during dinner. “I love you so dearly” he confesses. “Whenever we part for a meeting, or we have a mission- I’m always afraid I’m gonna come back home without you- it scares me so much, the thought of losing you.”

His fingers keep on mindlessly caressing the metal band on Tony’s hand, his smile faltering on his forlorn face.

“Hey” Tony calls again softly, raising his chin another time. “You won’t lose me” he states.

Steve smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “You know you cannot promise that” he claps back. “You may not leave me willingly, but with the lives we live-“

“Then I can promise you that I’ll do my best not to make it happen” Tony blurts out boldly. Deep in his heart, he knows Steve is right, he cannot promise that, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try it anyway.

Steve smiles once again, and this time it’s a little more hopeful. “Okay” he whispers. He grabs Tony’s hand and brings it in front of his lips, before leaving a kiss on the ring. “I promise that too” he affirms with a steadier voice.

Tony lets himself linger in the moment, until he feels like he could cry too, so he clears his throat.

“Well, then we can finish to watch the movie, what do you think?” he asks.

Steve gets more comfortable in his position, but keeps his head in Tony’s lap anyway.

“Alright” he concedes, and Tony reaches for the remote. “But once it ends, you have to let me try the naked-drawing scene.”

Tony chuckles loudly, and even though Steve has turned to face the tv, he can spot a grin on his face.

“Whatever you want” he says fondly.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Jigsaw // Red: Part One

Valhalla 

A/N: Picking up right where we left off with Blue (which you can find on the Billy Russo page of my masterlist). Billy’s on the run and needs to find a place to hide out while he comes up with a plan. 

Warnings: character death

Word Count: 3,730

.

Left. He hit the sidewalk and immediately turned, shifting himself sideways to disappear down the alley. Go, go, go. Legs turning over with perfect form, he ran between the buildings, a blur of red brick on one side, pale gray concrete on the other. The sound of his breathing drowned out everything but the voice in his head telling him where to turn. Right. Coming through to the next street, he spun, socked feet splashing through a puddle of condensation from the A.C. unit in the window above. Alley, now. A trash bag lay across the opening of the narrow space. Jump it. Right leg extended, he vaulted over the garbage heap, springing off his coiled left calf and landing in stride, continuing to run without missing a beat. An aluminum chain link fence greeted him at the end of the alley, and he quickly calculated the necessary motion to climb it. Wait! Back pressed against the grime covered wall, he held his breath in the shadows as two police cruisers flew by, sirens wailing. He counted to ten, waiting to see if any more were in pursuit. He could hear more sirens joining in from other parts of the city, but for now the way was clear. Go, up and over. Securing the folder inside his zipped sweatshirt, he jumped and gripped the fence with both hands, fingers curling through the wire diamonds. He pulled himself up with ease, throwing one leg and then the other over the top and landing hard on the soles of his feet.  

Keep fuckin’ going. Listening to the commanding voice in his head, Billy immediately took off running again. His lungs were on fire and he had a cramp in his gut but just like in an active warzone, he knew that he couldn’t rest until he’d reached the checkpoint. Not that he had one in mind when he broke free, but as he scaled the fence he realized that his legs were taking him to a specific location- an abandoned warehouse in Red Hook. Of course. He coughed, wheezing slightly as he pushed himself to follow his feet as fast as he could. Of course that’s where I’m goin’. He reverted back to auto pilot, following the commands to make turns and slip through alleys, allowing his thoughts to traverse the labyrinth in his brain like a mouse in a maze, desperate for the cheese. With a wince and a jerk of his head, a memory tumbled to the frontlines as he got closer to his destination.   

 ..  .. ..  .. .. ..  .. 

‘S’just an idea I had,” Billy shrugged and shoved his burger haphazardly into his mouth, filling it with food so he’d have an excuse not to elaborate too much. You watched him from across the retro red table, tapping your thumbnail against the grooved aluminum edge.

  “It’s a great idea, Billy,” you’d said encouragingly, French fry suspended over your plate, a dollop of ketchup plopping off the end of it.

 He chewed around a small smile, keeping his eyes on you as he reached for the pebbled plastic soda glass in front of him. He swallowed the bite he’d taken and chased it down with a few loud slurps of his drink before setting what was left of his lunch back on his plate. “I dunno about great,” he said with a minute shift of his shoulders. “Still got a lot of work to do. Gonna need investors and warehouse space and-“

You stopped tapping at the aluminum trim and stretched your hand across the small two top booth to grip his, giving a light squeeze. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “Yeah, you got a lot of work to do. But the idea is a good one, and a lot of good people will benefit from it.”

She gets it. He cleared his throat and sniffed, nose wrinkling up. “Yeah, I mean… just thinkin’ about guys like me’n Frankie. Guys that gave decades of their lives to the military. Guys that need to have somethin’ to fall back on when they get home… what kinda jobs are gonna hire 38 year olds with no experience, ya know?” He was talking mainly about Frank, but he wasn’t far behind his friend in terms of age or the things he was willing to risk as that number went up.“Give ‘em a chance to use the skills they have instead’a tryin’ to scramble to fit in to some 9-5…” Let ‘em be with guys who understand…

 “So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?” You’d pushed your plate aside to give him your full attention, one hand still linked with his over the scarlet and silver boomerang patterned laminate.

He’d hesitated to tell you about his idea of starting his own private security company, because saying it out loud meant that it was real. Telling you about it was essentially sealing a promise to himself...and to you, that he’d make it work, and he wasn’t sure that he could. But the way that you asked those questions, with nothing but clarity and belief in your tone, the way your hand never left his, it made him feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy. Maybe I can. “Well, I gotta figure out how much I need to get started. Equipment, endorsements, facilities,” He ticked those off on the fingers of his free hand before his tongue came out to lick his lips.  “I...actually, I looked into this one warehouse in Brooklyn already. Not that I’m expectin’ it to still be available when I’m ready to pull the trigger but… I wanted to look into the numbers.”

“Will you show it to me?” The excitement on your face pulled his cheeks up slowly, almost making him laugh.

“What?” He shook his head looking down at your hands. “Nah, you don’t wanna,” he looked back up to find that you hadn’t so much as blinked. “I only got two days left, you wanna waste one of ‘em in a dirty old building?” But even as he tried to talk you out of it, Billy realized that he did want to take you there.

The server came over then, coffee pot in one hand and stress written all over her tired face despite the fact that there were only three other occupied tables in the joint. “Get you two anything else?” The way she asked the question dictated what she hoped the answer would be.

Without missing a beat you turned to respond to the woman. “Nope, we’ll take the-” she dropped the puffy black check presenter on the table where it clapped together with a soft thud. “-check, thanks!” You pulled your hand from Billy’s and let him inspect the bill before he dug his wallet out, tucking some cash behind the curled thermal paper and then placing it on top of the dented silver napkin holder.

When he had returned his wallet to the back pocket of his dark jeans, you tilted your head and cocked one eyebrow. “What?” He asked, to which you’d only changed the angle of your chin. “Really?” Your smirk answered and he felt a swelling in his chest at your stubborn faith in him. “You’re serious.” That one wasn’t a question.

 You stood from the booth and wrapped your scarf around your neck before slipping your arms into the sleeves of your jacket. Billy did the same, following your lead. When you’d both donned your outerwear, you pulled your hair up and over the thick cable knit loops of your neck covering and bounced up on the balls of your feet to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I am, Russo.” Motioning toward the door and lacing your fingers with his, you licked your candy apple lips. “Lead the way, Billy.” 

 ..  .. ..  .. .. ..

His breathing picked up, uneven and ragged, fingers shaking as they clutched the rusty gate, swinging it open. The chase was over and his body reacted accordingly, heightened senses returning to normal levels, the adrenaline slowly draining from his blood. The greedy gulps of air he was taking would make him sick. He knew that, but there was nothing he could do. His survival instincts got him as far as they needed to before vanishing into the abyss, leaving him alone. Closing the gate behind him, Billy staggered through the fenced in loading dock of the abandoned warehouse, shoeless feet tripping on the cracks in the pavement where stubborn weeds were pushing through the concrete. Broken glass littered the ground as he got closer to the building, an entire pane having fallen from the third story, nothing but a few jagged spears remaining in the window frame.

The crunching, crashing sound of glass shattering echoed in his ears, forcing a wince and a pitiful hissing sound that was a mixture of pain and fear. Tearing his eyes from the fragments, he gripped the top of his head and shook it hard, jogging the sound and the visions that came with it from his mind. The blare of a bus horn from a few blocks away brought him back to the moment. Chest heaving, Billy gripped the folder that he’d tucked under his sweatshirt, confirming for the tenth time since his escape that he hadn’t lost it. What little relief was left for him trickled through his body as he finally reached the door and found it unlocked.

Tugging the handle he pulled it open, flakes of rust falling from the hinges as they creaked and screeched their disuse. The bottom of the door dragged over the concrete, scraping a crescent shape into the ground. He stumbled inside and yanked the door shut behind him, giving three hard pulls to close the stubborn portal. He kept moving, using the sunlight that filtered in through the thick, clouded windows to seek out the staircase on the near side of the vast and empty space. It had been over a year since he’d last been there, but he was confident that the steps hadn’t decayed past the point of use. Testing his weight on the bottom few he saw that he was right. He gripped the oxidized rails, the peeling metal rough against his palms as he climbed to the second floor, footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space.

This wasn’t Anvil’s home, but it might have been, almost was. There was more graffiti than there was the last time he’d set foot inside, depleted spray paint cans littering the ground and coming into view as he took the last few steps. The word Valhalla was scrawled across the bricks in the loft, accented with flames and shadows, a few broken, lumpy chairs and mattresses spread beneath the mural. The room had clearly been used as some kind of illegal den for drugs or other illicit activity, and simply hadn’t been cleaned out when the inhabitants had been dispatched. A rat scurried out from under one of the dilapidated pieces of furniture and found refuge inside of a potato chip bag in the corner. Billy stood before the painted wall. Valhalla. What a crock of shit. He recalled the way that he and his brothers in arms had often compared themselves to the Vikings, to the Gods of War, talking about valor and the glory that was waiting for them back home. There’s no glory left, no good death for me. He tore his eyes from the lettering and sank down onto one of the badly torn couches, a broken sound coming from his throat as he pulled the folder from where it was tucked beneath the zipper of his sweatshirt, letting it fall to the ripped cushion beside him, his head falling to hang between his hands.

Outside, the clouds shifted in the sky letting hazy afternoon light find its way through the damaged windows. It created a spotlight effect that drew his gaze to a hastily sprayed “X” on the floor in the center of the room, the splotchy ruby red paint scuffed from where careless boot soles had stepped over it. His mouth fell open, an incredulous breath bursting forth as he dragged his palms over the close cropped hair on top of his head, fingers curling around the helix of his ears and memory hurtling back to the last time that he’d been in that building.

..  .. ..  .. .. .. 

You reached the door before he did, both hands gripping the chunky steel door handle, eagerly trying to tug it open but struggling to do so. He watched your shoulders hunch up as you tried to pull harder before you turned to look back at him. The excitement on your face would have been more suited to opening the door to a luxury suite in a gilded mansion than a rundown old paint factory with more broken panes of glass on the floor than existed in the window frames, but he knew it was there and it was real. Because she loves me. That simple, overwhelming thought was the hardest thing he’d ever wrapped his head around. He shook his head as his lips parted, one side quirking upwards involuntarily. “Easy there killer, lemme do that.” Billy reached passed you and grabbed the handle, a flush of warmth flooding his veins as you leaned back into his chest, your fingers falling away from the door as he gave a hard pull to pry it open, the bottom scraping the ground. “Still can’t believe this is what you wanna-“

  You turned quickly and pressed two fingers, skin chilled from the early spring air, against his lips to silence him. “Believe it. This is where I wanna be. Nowhere else. Now,” You winked at him and turned back towards the darkened entry that he’d just wrenched opened. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Russo, but you were going to take me on the tour of your new facility, were you not?” You started to take a step through the door when his arms quickly circled around your waist, stopping you. They flexed, tightening his hold and forcing a bubbly laugh to spill from your soul.

  “Yeah,” he brought his lips to your ear, pressing them to the flesh behind it. “Right this way, ma’am.” He unwound his arms and took your hand, carefully leading you into the building. The heavy door swung shut with a thud and you jumped slightly. “I got ya,” he said, squeezing your hand as the metallic sound of the door echoed throughout the cavernous space. You squeezed back and threw a smile in his direction.  

  Late afternoon light was streaming in through the remaining glass panels, showing off an iron staircase that lead to a lofted office area, and behind it an enormous room with concrete flooring. “So down here we’d build this out for training purposes,” he motioned to the space with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “Put up walls, build rooms for guys to run tactical drills in. S’enough square footage to run two teams through drills at once.” He cleared his throat and nodded. “I uh, I looked into that, too.”

  He’d looked into more than he let on at the diner, already researching contractors that might be willing to work with a US Marine vet when it came to budget. He watched you take in the room, blinking slowly in the dim light, breathing quietly in the musty air. “It’s perfect, Billy.”

  He shrugged but allowed his cheek to twitch up towards his eye in a one sided grin. “It’s not. But it doesn’t haveta be. Just has to be big.”

  You dislodged your hand from his to explore the space some more, wandering between the support poles that ran from cracked floor to vaulted ceiling. Swinging around one of them, your hair fell like a curtain over your face and you pushed it back. “Well it’s definitely big. So check that off the list.” You came back towards him as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “What else?”

  “Well,” his eyes darted to the staircase, yours following until they came back to meet. “Up there is where the offices would be.” Tongue flicking out to lick his lips and teeth flashing behind them, he said, “Where my office would be.”

  Your grin turned mischievous. “Oh yeah?” He nodded. “Just up those stairs?” Another nod. “Well this I gotta see,” you said, taking off in the direction of the loft.

  “Hang on, wait,” he shot his arm out, catching you by the wrist and wrapping his fingers around it. “Lemme… I dunno if the stairs are…” you let him go ahead of you, testing his weight on the rickety staircase. Satisfied with their structural integrity, he looked back at you. “Okay, c’mon up.” He gave you his hand again and you took it, the familiar weight of it grounding him.

  The top floor boasted an exposed brick wall to the right and a huge half circle window high up near the ceiling to the left, long narrow windows running down beneath it. A series of smaller offices overlooking the first floor could be seen down a short hall. A few stray papers and paint cans were strewn about, and a pigeon cooed as it fluttered from rafter to rafter over your heads. You spun in a slow 360 degrees, directly in the center of the beam of light filtering in through the lead glass semi-circle. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is perfect. “So what do you think?”

  “I think your desk should go right over there,” you pointed out a spot in the middle of the large brick wall. “You close this off,” you moved your arms to indicate the area around where his phantom desk stood. “Your secretary can sit-“ you looked over your shoulder at him, devilish grin climbing your lips to change the color of your eyes to a darker shade. “She’s not gonna like me, I can tell. But she can sit over there,” again you moved your arms to indicate where walls would be. “Outside your office. More privacy that way.” You’d come back to stand in front of him, slipping your arms beneath his and pressing yourself tightly against him.

  Billy looked down through his lashes at you as you reached up to fix a stray lock of his hair that had fallen in front of his eye, tucking it back in order before trailing your fingertips down the stubble on his face. “S’not what I-“

  “I know.” You gripped the back of his neck and flexed your fingers. “I know that’s not what you were asking. You wanna know what I think, Billy?”

  His hands came up to either side of your face then, eyes searching yours. “Yours is the only opinion that matters,” he said. “So yeah, I wanna know what you think.”

  You looked around the space again, hand dropping from behind him as his fell away from your cheeks. Finding what you were looking for, you smiled and took a few steps into the corner, bending down to pick up an aluminum can with a bright red plastic top. You shook it like a maraca, the liquid inside sloshing around to tell you that it wasn’t empty. Popping the top off, you walked over towards the area you’d cordoned off for his office, finger resting atop the depressor.

  “What are you…” his sentence fell apart as you stooped down and sprayed a big “x” on the ground, dropping the can and letting it clatter by your feet.

  “There,” you said, wiping your hands together and then brushing them off on your jeans. “X marks the spot, Billy. That’s what I think. I think now you have two things to come home to, lieutenant.”

  He shook his head and moved closer to you. “That’s not even… ‘course I’m coming home to you, that’s not-”

  “Yeah, you better.” You stood on the wet X, not caring about getting paint on your shoes. “But this? This place, this goal? I think there’s no way in Hell you don’t make this happen, Billy.”

  He reached for you then, pulling you off the X and into his body, wrapping you up as tightly as he could. “X marks the spot,” he said, lips covering yours, glad that this was how you’d ended up spending the rest of the day.

  ..  .. ..  .. .. ..  ..

  He stooped down to run his fingers over what was left of the red mark, the patterns from the soles of your shoes faintly visible in the splotchy paint. She should be here. She should be here and she’s not. Tears pooled in his eyes and spilled fat and heavy onto the floor as rage roiled in his blood. Frank did this. Frank and… and Madani. He stood then, shuffling back over to the folder in the couch. There’s gotta be… He knew needed to get their attention. Gotta be some way to flush ‘em out, to… 

He flipped through the file, the photos of the two of you from the park socking him hard. Military records, session notes, accomplishments, crimes, details from every aspect of his life typed out neatly in 12 point double spaced font. One name caught his eye as he turned the pages, one name that he’d only ever shared with three people in his adult life: Frank, Madani, and you. 

“So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?”

  Your voice filled his ears then, and he knew what he had to do to make Frank take notice.  

  Thoroughly exhausted from the events of the day, from the pieces he’d put into place and the staggering realizations he’d come to, Billy took the photo from the folder and fell into the broken couch. Outside, the sun had started setting, darkness slowly swallowing the world and ending the day. They took her from me. Slow, shaky breaths puffed through his nostrils as he crossed his arms over his chest, aching to hold you one more time. They took her from me and they’re gonna pay. 

  Though it felt like his anguish would keep him from sleep, his eyes slipped closed and he drifted off, holding your picture and repeating an address over and over, like counting sheep; an address he couldn’t believe he remembered after all these years. 

 They’re all gonna pay.

.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @lexxierave @songforhema @thesumofmychoices @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @stories-you-wont-hear @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @luminex3 @ificouldhelpyouforget @obscurilicious @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!  

[itsclydebitches]

Title: No Harm to the World

Summary: When Aziraphale's birthday comes around he expects a book from Anathema. Perhaps a bottle of wine. Or even some nice socks. He does not expect a series of ballroom lessons with London's rudest instructor.

Fandom: Good Omens

Words: 4,461

Warnings: None

Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley

Author’s Notes: "Let us read, and let us dance — these two amusements will never do any harm to the world" - Voltaire

Written for Cademon who doesn't actually know me, but managed to chuck out a prompt I just couldn't resist: "Dance instructor/student AU with slow burn and slow dancing and kissing and bonus points for smutty goodness." I'm bad at writing kisses, even worse at smut, and I don't think 4k counts as a slow burn... but it's an instructor/student AU! Woot woot let's count that as a win.

Where to Read it: AO3 or below the cut 

Anathema, he decided, was going to hell.

Certainly there was no other option for the poor girl. Sad, but true. What else could Aziraphale assume given the sin she’d committed?

“It’s not right,” he told the server, a young woman with pink hair and an expression bordering on awed. “You don’t just give someone that sort of gift. It’s not a gift at all! Gifts are books, my dear. Or an excellent bottle of wine. Perhaps a decent pair of socks if we’re getting intimate. But to foster off something with such requirements attached to it, particularly on someone who is and should be treated as a loved one... it doesn’t bear thinking about. I cannot possibly express my disappointment in her.”

“Really? ‘Cause you’ve been doing well so far.” The server pointed at Aziraphale’s empty plate. “You want another slice or what?”

“Oh. Yes. Thank you. Now see, cake. That is an excellent gift.”

“Uh huh.”

With those words of wisdom she left Aziraphale to his thoughts, his still growling stomach, and the letter he’d propped up against the salt and pepper shakers. Lesley had delivered it this morning, no doubt because Anathema was too craven to give it to him herself. At first Aziraphale had been rather touched by the gesture, sure that she was embracing his love of sophistication—not archaism, thank you—on the day of his birth, foregoing all that horrible, digital nonsense to send him a proper letter instead. How inspired! Ha. More fool him. What Aziraphale found was not the opera ticket he’d expected, or a monthly wine subscription, or even just a personal account of all that he meant to her...

No. Fifty years old and she got him dancing lessons. A month long, twice a week, fully paid for trap that Aziraphale either needed to suffer through or risk offense, to both her and the instructor. Someone who, Anathema had made quite clear, was already expecting him. Tonight. On his birthday. Had he mentioned that yet?

Outside of her instructions the rest of the so-called letter was a single line written in viscous, glittery pen:

You need to get out more ;)

Love,

Anathema

“Poppycock,” Aziraphale muttered. “Oh. Pardon my language.” His server gave a snort as she laid down the second slice of strawberry shortcake. She skipped off before he could start another rant, though Aziraphale was happy enough to continue glaring at his ‘gift.’

Get out more? What rubbish. Aziraphale certainly didn’t need to pepper his time with dance lessons, of all things. He lived a perfectly healthy, happy life and didn't need a woman half his age saying otherwise. Why were they friends again? He hardly knew.

Aziraphale stabbed his fork straight through the slice. Not even buttery cake and macerated strawberries could cheer him though. The letter remained in view, taunting him.

As did the knowledge that he was expected at this studio come 7:00pm sharp. He, Aziraphale, was meant to spend a full hour in an organization titled Dancing With the Devil.

It was with a sigh that he slipped whipped cream past his lips and raised his hand. “Miss! I do believe I’ll be needing a third slice.”

***

Six and a half hours later found Aziraphale outside an apartment complex, the top of which clearly housed the studio in question. If that absurd name didn’t give it away—displayed in red, looping letters against the old stonework—then the music thrumming all the way down to the sidewalk would have done the trick. Aziraphale might have thought the place a disreputable club if not for the fact that the music was Sinatra.

...Not entirely horrible then. Not quite.

“Though by no means a redemption either,” he muttered, waiting for the elevator. As he did, Aziraphale took a moment to examine himself in the reflective surface, rather pleased with his choice of outfit. He’d gone with a blue vest tonight, a periwinkle that matched his bow-tie perfectly, and brought a spot of color to the browns and beige he’d otherwise donned. He wasn’t entirely sure what one was meant to wear to a dancing lesson, but surely you couldn’t fault style? He looked quite spiffy, all things considered. Besides, Anathema’s horrid little note had specified ballroom lessons. Not the sort of thing that involved traipsing about on the ground or attempting anything as unnecessary as a jump. And if it did? Aziraphale would leave. Simple as that.

“Quite,” he told his reflection and stepped inside.

The music grew louder as Aziraphale ascended, until he could feel the vibrations through the soles of his shoes. When the elevator opened on dim lights and smiling people, he was momentarily taken aback.

Some day, when I'm awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight

They must have just started this song because people were still coming together, men and women alike extending hands to partners, walking side-by-side to the outskirts of the room. To be entirely honest, most of those smiles seemed to stem from embarrassment. Aziraphale watched the couples—perhaps six of seven in total—fumble arms for a moment or come dangerously close to stepping on toes. A few individuals were so intensely focused on their feet he didn’t think they’d react if the whole studio came crashing down around their ears. None of it was very... good, per se. Aziraphale had seen just enough old films to know that the awkward gaits and simple steps he was witnessing weren’t much to write home about. But the attempts were charming in their own way and he was all too aware that it was more than he was able to do.

Suddenly, Aziraphale felt rather out of place.

The exception to stiff movements and lowered heads was the man who cut through the middle of the floor, the only one without a partner. He wore slacks, but short heels that appeared to be dance-specific; a collared shirt, but with red hair that fell down past his shoulders. Perhaps the most notable accessory though was a pair of dark glasses perched on his nose, entirely unnecessary in this lighting and thus looking rather absurd. No doubt he thought himself one of those cool men who could never pass the age of twenty-five. Aziraphale didn’t need any official introduction to know that he was the instructor though. The way he moved said it all.

Like liquid. Like grace incarnate. He put more hip action into walking than Aziraphale could ever manage in a Salsa and it was, to be frank, bordering on obscene.

The man was also heading his way.

“You must be Zira!” he called, loud enough to turn every head. Aziraphale shrunk, his hiding spot obliterated. “Beginner’s class? 7:00? You’re late. Can’t have that. First day here and you’re already slacking? You’d think a guy dressed like you would want to make a better first impression.” The man grinned.

Of all the—!

“It’s Aziraphale,” he hissed, the first and most important thing to tumble out of his mouth. “I don’t do that nickname nonsense. And I’m not late. I’m not slacking! I’m not—oh. Well I suppose I am here for the beginner’s class. But that’s the only thing you got right and one out of four is nothing to be proud of.”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks and the arrogant, downward turn to his mouth. Aziraphale had been told on more than one occassion that this was why he so rarely got customers (not that he particularly wanted them...) and why he had so few, close friends. Thus it was more than a bit surprising to find that his default state didn’t immediately get him chucked out of the class. What a pity. Rather, the man seemed to enjoy his ire. He continued grinning, quite manically, finally throwing out a hand with purple, painted nails.

“Name’s Anthony Crowley, but everyone here just calls me Crowley. I am about the nickname nonsense. Sort of, anyway. Let’s see...” Crowley’s fingers tapped the top of Aziraphale’s hand, sending a jolt all the way up through his arm. “I own this studio. Own the flats downstairs too. Guess that doesn’t make me much of a slacker, but I enjoy a good TV binge every now and then. And you’re right.”

“Right?” Aziraphale parroted.

“You’re not late. Fifteen minutes early, in fact. This lot,” he jerked his head at the dancers. “Have just been with me before. Know to leave time to warm up.”

Crowley finally released his hand and Aziraphale immediately plastered it against his thigh, trying and failing to be inconspicuous about wiping the sweat away. Crowley eyed the movement, lips twitching. “Well. You’re gonna be rubbish at this if one handshake gets you all nervous.”

Aziraphale gaped. “How rude!”

“Anathema said you’d be a handful.”

For a moment surprise warred with offense. The surprise won. “You know Anathema?” He’d been under the impression that this little ‘gift’ had no further strings attached. How foolish of him.

“Sure!” Crowley waved a hand. “We’re old girlfriends. She talks about you some. I’ve been telling her to get you in here for ages. Never said how you two know each other though.”

Aziraphale drew himself up. “Anathema is a frequent visitor to my shop. Over the years I’ve been able to procure a number of rare books for her. Our love of literature all but ensured that we would be fast friends.”

“Huh. Cool. I hit her with my car a few years back. Anyway, c’mon!”

Aziraphale was left, open-mouthed, grappling with the image of an Anathema three years ago with bruised face and a broken arm. Apparently Crowley wasn’t one for explanations though, as he was already striding back across the room, clearly expecting Aziraphale to follow. Obeying such a high-handed command was a horrible thought.

...standing there awkwardly was worse.

“Excuse me, pardon me, ah...no, no, go on as you were!” Despite their slow movements and few numbers, getting past the dancers was a surprisingly difficult task, those capable of dancing and looking up simultaneously casting him amused smiles. By the time Aziraphale reached Crowley—now standing beside a row of chairs on the outskirts of the room—he could feel the heat in his cheeks and the slight dampness beginning to consolidate beneath his shirt. Hardly his fault. It was so dreadfully hot in here.

Crowley eyed him up and down once more, that smirk too knowing for Aziraphale’s tastes. With a huff he straightened his bow-tie with one hand and thrust out the folder he’d been carrying with the other.

“I've done research,” he announced. “Quite extensive. Not to speak too highly of my own abilities, but it’s rather a talent of mine and one that I put a great deal of stock in. Thus, after much deliberation I have decided that if I am to learn any formal dance is should be the gavotte.”

Seconds ticked by. Aziraphale shook the folder in the air between them. Crowley failed to take it.

“I’ve done research,” he repeated, just in case that first part hadn’t been clear.

“You’ve really got no idea how this all works, do you?” Crowley asked. To Aziraphale’s great relief he finally took the gathered materials—

—only to toss it all right over his shoulder.

“How dare you!”

“Jeez, you’re a sensitive one. How dare you this, how rude that. We’ve got to loosen you up a bit first. Everyone, watch your floorcraft!”

The students behind them dutifully maneuvered around the now scattered collection of papers, a few giving audible laughs at the turn of events. Aizraphale felt that blush creeping down his neck and instinctively bent to gather them up.

Crowley intercepted, taking him into his arms.

He might have struggled. Perhaps he should have, the shock of someone touching him in such a manner without permission just the sort of thing Aziraphale normally would have riled against. But when Crowley dipped his glasses also slipped, and for a moment (a moment was all Crowley needed) Aziraphale was left breathless and rather easily swayed.

It was his eyes. They were...well, quite stunning. If he was entirely frank. A brown that appeared almost gold in the right light, but more distinctive were the pupils that bled downwards into his iris, creating a surprisingly oval shape. The effect was akin to a keyhole. Or, if one were being fanciful, something not quite human.

Crowley, of course, noticed him staring. His grin was slow. Like he had to pull it into being one muscle at a time. “Coloboma,” he said, the word sharp and quick. “I was lucky enough to get it in both eyes.” Crowley briefly removed his hand from Aziraphale’s to push the glasses more firmly onto his nose. Then they came back together, the movement almost unnoticed. Aziraphale was still peering closely.

“Is that why you wear those?” he asked. “Even inside? In this lighting?”

“Mm-hmm. Tends to freak people out. Sometimes. Enough times. Need to get used to it first.” Crowley’s head titled to the side, red curls falling between them. “Does it bother you?”

Aziraphale was aware that he owed this man precisely nothing. Certainly not honesty for the sake of honesty. And yet, he found it slipping out nonetheless. “Not at all, dear boy. In fact, I think your eyes are quite beautiful. Rather like a snake’s.”

As soon as the words hit the air Aziraphale stumbled, the compliment his mouth had seen fit to give suddenly catching up with his brain. Crowley went rigid too, though because of the “beautiful” or the “snake” part Aziraphale couldn’t be sure. Because a second later he murmured,

“People normally say 'cat.'” His voice was rough and rather...shaky?

“...Ah. Of Course. Logical.”

"Yeah."

Well. That had gone swimmingly! Yes, old boy, insult and act inappropriately with your instructor five minutes into the lesson. What a positively perfect way to begin a month-long course. Not that Aziraphale cared if Crowley decided to cut him. Not at all. Hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place.

Funny thing though, it was a lesson and not a bad one at that. All at once and without Aziraphale’s knowledge they'd fallen into their respective roles. While they’d been speaking, Crowley had taken the hand he’d snagged and the underside of Aziraphale’s shoulder blade, just sort of... steering them around the room. They weren’t doing any of the fancy footwork that the rest of the group was immersed in. Just a little shuffle there and back, like one might see during a slow dance at senior prom. Yet it was steady, and soothing, and all at once Aziraphale was hyper-aware of exactly how close they’d gotten. He tried to ignore the smell of Crowley’s cologne—delightfully spicy. He’d have to ask his barber for something similar—and how soft his hand was, palm pressed to palm and fingers cupping fingers. His brief faux pas was quickly forgotten. When Crowley seemed content to simply sway and hum along to the music for some undetermined amount of time, Aziraphale finally cleared his throat.

“What, if I am ask, are we doing?”

Crowley blinked. “Dancing.”

“I would hardly term this dancing.”

“Well that’s because you’re the ignorant student and I’m the former Blackpool competitor.” He spoke right over the protest. “What’s the best kind of learning? The kind that doesn’t feel like learning. Duh. Look at you go. Walking backwards like a champ.” Crowley suddenly stopped, Aziraphale stopped too, and somehow his gaze seemed more shrewd, even behind the glasses. “Why?"

“Why? Why what?” Aziraphale tried valiantly to regain his balance.

“Why did you stop?”

“Because you stopped.”

“No, no, no, stupid answer. What bearing does me stopping have on you stopping? You could have just kept going, straight out the door! Anathema said you were smart. Where’s that now? One more time...” They started moving again, parallel to the line of chairs, and this time when Crowley stopped—

He hummed in the back of his throat, catching Aziraphale’s expression.

It was hard to explain though. The fact that he was literally connected to another person obviously played its part, but there was more to it than that, what Aziraphale suspected his teacher was trying to convey. Something about how the hand at his back had pressed suddenly, becoming a barrier he didn't want to push past. The hand in his had tightened, almost pulling in the opposite direction. Something else about the feeling of Crowley’s body so near to his, subconsciously picking up on the change in his weight...

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to articulate any of that though. What came out was a disgruntled noise that made Crowley laugh.

“Connection,” he said, clearly taking pity on him. “You know where and how far I want you to go because of how closely connected our bodies are. From here,” he shifted them to the right. “To there.” Back to the left. “The slightest touch, just a little, tiny press—” Aziraphale suddenly knew that he was to take a step backwards and when he did Crowley’s smile was magnificent. “It can accomplish a shit ton.”

Aziraphale snorted. “Is that a technical term? 'Shit ton'?”

“Oh yeah.” Crowley suddenly grew serious. “But if you don’t have that connection...” His arms went limp, his chest pulled back, and Aziraphale hadn’t the slightest clue where he was meant to go now. When Crowley suddenly stepped backward he was scrambling to catch up. “See? All falls apart. It’s about balance. Push and pull. Like you’re standing on the edge of a knife and the both of you have to maintain perfect position so that neither of you falls...You manage that and you can manage just about anything.”

"A relationship," Aziraphale said, his mouth once again running away with him. No reprimand came though. Just a quick squeeze of his hand that felt like praise.

Crowley had taken him in his arms again—what he referred to as the frame a few moments later—and with the careless delivery of someone commenting on the weather, told Aziraphale to step back, back again, and then side together, off to his right. No, not quite that fast. Yes, that’s better. A slow, a slow, quick-quick pattern. Again and again until Aziraphale realized, with no small amount of shock, that they were mimicking the other couples around the dance floor.

“See?” Crowley said. There was only a bit of smugness seeping into his voice. Already Aziraphale counted that as a win. “You’re a natural.”

He thought of long-ago gym classes and his brother Gabriel’s attempts to take him jogging. “You’d be the first to think so.”

“Or I’m just that good a teacher. Hmm. Might be leaning towards that one. But the fact that you can take two steps without panicking or tripping over your own feet is a major plus.” Crowley leaned in close, sharing a conspiratorial whisper. “Most of this lot still don’t know their right from their left.”

It should have been cruel coming from their instructor, but Aziraphale had the distinct sense that Crowley meant it in only the most loving way possible. A chuckle wound its way up his throat because yes, what just fifteen minutes before had seemed so out of reach now appeared... quite simple really. Whatever had he been worried about? Across the ballroom some poor chap was nearly trampling another—who astoundingly managed to keep a polite smile in place—while two women behind them were taking each step with an agonizing slowness that had thrown them off beat. Aziraphale had never considered himself to be terribly adventurous, never quick to embrace any change, but even that was a bit slow for this tastes.

With Crowley, the room spun at perfect speed.

“It’s all that stuffiness,” he was saying, oblivious to Aziraphale’s thoughts. “You’re all,” and Crowley drew his shoulders up to his ears, miming someone overly stiff with a pursed lips and squinty eyes. The display fell apart with a laugh at whatever expression Aziraphale pulled. “Nah, nah, it’s good. Gonna have a devil of a time with you in the Latin styles, but smooth? Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

“I like lemons,” Aziraphale commented, unsure how else to respond in the face of more unexpected praise.

“Please don’t tell me you just... eat them.”

“What? No! I mean lemonade. Or squeezed over veal with capers.”

“Okay good because I once knew this guy who’d just fucking peel them—”

So it went, with Crowley rambling on about, apparently, whatever popped into his head each moment, all while leading Aziraphale round and round the room with an ease that spoke of years of practice. He was far less graceful, stumbling now and again, but largely able to move and hold a conversation simultaneously, which was far more than Aziraphale would have assumed himself capable of, especially after such a short period of time. In fact, with Crowley’s arms a warm press and those absurd opinions filling his ears, it was all almost a bit... fun.

Damn it all. Anathema could never find out.

The song—another of Sinatra’s—finally drew to a close and with it the lights rose, shaking the group out of their daze. People put distance between their partners, thanking one another, laughing over perceived faults, and Aziraphale felt a pang when Crowley moved to do the same.

That is, until he ducked into a low bow, brushing a kiss against the back of Aziraphale’s hand.

“Thank you for the dance,” he said, tone overly formal, eyes alight with mischief. Aziraphale might have called him out on the contradiction if his thoughts were even in the vicinity of coherent.

Oh dear.

Crowley left. Or rather, rejoined the rest of his class. Which honestly felt to be much the same thing. Aziraphale had to tramp down on the absurd burst of jealousy that flared when Crowley briefly took another man into his arms, leading him through a slightly longer, more complicated step. Thankfully though that stint of madness was brief. With a self-conscious cough Aziraphale smoothed down his vest and joined the others in front of the mirrors. They were all lining up, seemingly expectant, and all at once Aziraphale was the odd man out again. Unsure of where to stand; overly dressed next to the others' jeans and t-shirts.

Then Crowley paced before the lineup and tilted his head just so, allowing the light to reflect through his glasses. Aziraphale could have sworn he dropped him a wink.

“Welcome! Excellent warm-up, all of you. Though I could have done without so many feet watchers.” A few titters flowed through the group. “Seriously, are your shoes really that interesting? Because if they are I want to know where you got ‘em. Drop me a brand name after class. All right, all right. Enough of that. Good to have you all back. Good to see some new faces too. This is Bronze One, Smooth Dancers for Beginners, and today we’ll be learning the Foxtrot... though I’ve already gotten the sense that you lot won’t be beginners for long.”

His gaze was definitely on Aziraphale and he burned for just a moment, caught. As Crowley began his lesson, Aziraphale straightened his bow-tie one more—just for luck—and vowed that such a complimentary statement would not be said in vain.

A minute later, as Crowley helped him partner up with a lovely young woman looking similarly unsure, Aziraphale quite forgot that he’d never wanted to be here in the first place.

***

July, one year later.

“Honestly, I don’t know what that girl is thinking! It’s an insult, my dear. Plain and simple. I hope as you grow you’ll develop better manners than my supposed friend has.”

“I’m thirty-five, sir.”

Aziraphale sat in the same café, at the same table, with the same waitress listening to him rant about the misuse of birthday presents. The only true changes were that he’d since learned her name was Amber and Amber now sported green hair instead of pink (with blue and orange somewhere between the two).

This was old hat by now. “Two slices of the key lime pie then?”

“Three.”

“Three?"

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. Amber only just caught it. “Relax, dear. I’m not quite as stressed as that.” The ‘Not yet’ was muttered into his water glass. “I’m merely expecting company.”

Which was the cue for the door across from them to open, Crowley sauntering in with sundress and hat, heels and $200 shades. Amber huffed out a laugh, allowing her hand to briefly clasp Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Three slices it is then,” and she wandered off.

Crowley took her place.

“Angel.”

Aziraphale scowled. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Hey, if the shoe fits... speaking of,” Crowley slouched in his chair and stuck one long leg out from beneath the table, showing off his yellow, strappy heels. “You like?”

“Your continued obsession with footwear that now eats a hole in our joint bank account? Never.” But Aziraphale nevertheless eyed the new addition with admiration. “Can you dance in those?”

“Nah. Not enough traction. You’re due for a new pair though. Can’t go competing in those worn-out practice shoes.”

The mere thought of his first competition nearly undid Aziraphale’s appetite, but for now at least anger overrode the fear. “I was under the impression that Anathema was buying some for my birthday!”

Crowley blinked. “She’s not? It’s what she told me she was getting you.”

"Oh no, no, no. I received a package this morning that was most certainly not shoes..."

As Aziraphale leaned across the table, nearly upending water and silverware in his haste to share the news, Amber returned with three plates of pie and some complimentary mints. She arrived just in time to see Aziraphale whisper something into his partner’s ear that turned his cheeks roughly the same shade as his hair. The grin though... there was nothing self-conscious in that.

“That sly girl,” she heard, aiming to remain professional even in the face of Aziraphale’s angry huff. “Can’t say I’m surprised. When was the last time she gave you the present you were expecting?”

“I am this close to murdering her, Crowley.”

“Sure you are.” Amber’s last glimpse was of the two of them tucked together, sunlight streaming across the table, heads bent so close in conversation they nearly touched. Crowley took a bite of the pie as Aziraphale quite obviously watched his lips.

“I'm sure we'll figure out some use for her generosity." The sarcasm was apparent, even from across the room. As was Crowley's amusement.

"Besides, I’d say her last gift turned out just fine.”

Fin.

***

Important note: The most AU aspect of all this is that both of these bastards can actually dance

Less important note: You decide what Anathema got Aziraphale for his bday ;)

[thefigureinthecorner]

tbs art playlist dump

i want to share my playlists but a) don’t feel like making covers for all of them just yet and b) don’t wanna inundate my blog with playlist posts, but they are relevant to my art cause they help with Drawing Emotions n stuff so i’m still posting them on this blog

i’ll stick the links under the cut so i can keep adding to them, since i make them as i find more songs that fit and clicking a read more conveniently always links back to the original post, so 👌 

also there are some notes bc thought processes are fun

am archives stuff

this playlist is p much just all the music that gets me in the Sad AM Archives Mood for drawing anything in like. the latter half-ish of the episodes. lyrically there isn’t a whole lot of relevance it just gets me in the right headspace for drawing The Emotions (edit: a lot of these songs have become lyrically relevant since i made this post. i’m crying all the time over every song i listen to. goddammit.)

also there is one song (not on this playlist anymore) that i put on loop for drawing specifically Helen and that’s The Mind Electric-- again, more mood relevance than lyrical relevance, though the title is. oddly accurate

honorable mention: black pear tree by the mountain goats and kaki king cause it’s not on spotify but hot damn

joan/owen

it’s just a lot of sad, pine-y love songs. honestly it’s mostly from owen’s perspective cause there’s been a lot of that lately, and as far as i can tell owen’s where most of the love was coming from in this relationship anyway

share your address- ben platt: frankly, almost all of ben platt’s music gives me strong owen vibes, with a few exceptions. this one’s just owen being super in love. that’s the whole thing.

flaws- bastille: there’s a lot about this song that’s perfect for these two but two sections in particular: “When all of your flaws and all of my flaws/Are laid out one by one/The wonderful part of the mess that we made/We pick ourselves undone” and “All of your flaws and all of my flaws/When they have been exhumed/We'll see that we need them to be who we are/Without them we'd be doomed”

the first bit because of everything with Mark, and the second bit because of the last few episodes and the whole “maybe making the mistakes we have makes us uniquely suited to do better in the future” thing

quiet light- the national: owen, post-breakup, probably. the whole thing is good, but “Between you and me/I still fall apart at the thought of your voice” is the part that convinced me to put it here.

title and registration- death cab for cutie: i had this one stuck in my head while drawing owen at one point i think, and then it kinda just. hit me how well it worked. “There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade/And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all/And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide/Lying awake at night”

better- ben platt: yeah it’s ben platt again and i can’t even point to specific lyrics it’s just the whole song. this one’s on owen’s main playlist too but it had to be here

you can do better than me- death cab for cutie: not sure about the first verse, but the rest of the song?? fuck

tompkins square park- mumford and sons: also a song that’s on owen’s main playlist, but it’s on this playlist because after am archives 15 it’s destroying me.

i don’t wanna love somebody else- a great big world: gonna let the lyrics speak for themselves: Oh, we left it all unspoken/Oh, we buried it alive/And now it's screaming in my head/Oh, I shouldn't go on hoping/Oh, that you will change your mind/And one day we could start again/Well I don't care if loneliness kills me/I don't wanna love somebody else

like. excuse me.

this whole song just straight up is his conversation with Sam in am archives 13 huh

owen

i know i’ve linked to this one before on my blog (the notes are here if you want them) but i’m sticking it in the masterpost anyway

this one exists cause a) i draw him a lot and b) there wasn’t a playlist for owen, which is a decision i respect, but also the one song we do have for him kind of. doesn’t help me draw him. i feel like it makes it harder for me to draw him? the song suits him, lyrics-wise, and i understand why it’s his song, but also there’s a lot tone-wise that just takes me out of drawing him a bit. idk why. anyway here’s a playlist

mark

i made this one cause the official mark playlist was Happy Mark Songs, which is great and i’m glad he gets happy songs, but also i very rarely draw him happy (sorry mark i swear ily) and i needed a playlist of Sad Mark Songs. side note: i probably could have added like half the radical face discography to this playlist

paint’s peeling- rilo kiley: there’s a lot about this song that fits, but one line specifically that put this song on the playlist: And, oh, I'm not going back to the assholes that made me

i hate u, i love u- gnash (ft. olivia brian): see damien’s notes on this song, i wrote those before i wrote mark’s and it’s on both playlists for the same reasons

hard of hearing- radical face: holy shit

dead ends- radical face: also holy shit

personal giants (alternate reality version)- radical face: stop me if you’ve heard this before, but: holy shit. also this is totally a mark and joan song. maybe mark and sam also. just mark looking up to all the people who have ever loved him in any way

something good can work- two door cinema club: took this one from his official playlist; i love two door cinema club so i felt like i had to

a better son/daughter- rilo kiley: added this one after episode 14 of the am archives cause i re-discovered rilo kiley like right before that episode came out and aaaaaaaaa

older- ben platt: it’s sad in a Mark Way. idk how else to describe it.

mistakes we knew we were making- straylight run: i know i say this a lot but like......... it’s the whole song. look at the lyrics and try to tell me this isn’t a mark song.

stage 4 fear of trying- frank iero: “and i found some scars in places i have never shown to anyone/i don't know why it took so long to get back home/"if you could hear the dreams i've had my dear..."/yeah i know you've heard that line before/but if i had the chance to scream all the things i've underlined”

still feel- half alive: yeah ok so this is a more upbeat one but it needed to be here. again, a lot about this song works, but like. “Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced” is the line that got it here

ok ok- half alive: the lyrics kinda work, but honestly, it just Felt Like A Mark Song to me.

damien

it’s either this playlist or, just, The Entire Bastille Discography, cause for some reason their music really suits him imo. this one and the owen one are the ones i consider closest to being complete.

bloody shirt- to kill a king: idk where to even start with this song tbh like i think the lyrics are just his entire post-safehouse arc so it’s definitely something i’ve listened to a lot while drawing him

blame- bastille: another post-safehouse one but this one very specifically links back to the Get The Hell Out conversation him and mark have; fall upon your knees, saying, "this is my body and soul here"/fall and begging, pleading, "you've got the power and control"/don't pin it all on me

reaper man- mother mother: this one’s from the Official Playlist™ and it’s here for p much the same reasons it’s on the official one, with the addition of it helps me draw him. it’s also the only one that i think does from that playlist? which isn’t me bad-mouthing the playlist, i feel like the songs definitely suit him, but again: suiting him and helping me draw him are two very different things

gold- imagine dragons: yeah again it’s just the whole damn song

look what you made me do- our last night (cover): i think lauren shippen posted about this being a damien song on either her blog or the bright sessions blog at one point? and shortly after that this cover showed up in my recommended videos so that’s how that happened

birthright- celldweller: i don’t even remember how i thought of this song while i was making the playlist given it’d been literal years since i listened to celldweller but it worked and it’s here

the hearse- matt maeson: the stripped version of this song is on owen’s playlist because it sounded kind of sad/apologetic; this one doesn’t. this one is still kinda sad but it’s angrier. it’s leaning more towards mark/damien territory; i stuck a couple of those songs on this playlist because a) i don’t draw mark/damien much and b) in the rare cases i do, the official playlist works for me

i hate u, i love u- gnash (ft. olivia brian)- another mark/damien one and also another official playlist song cause i heard it the first time and went oh shit so it’s here now

current works in progress

no links, but i have a lot of songs in mind for these ones that i just haven’t put together into playlists yet:

sam

sam/mark

joan

joan and mark