#they are way closer than age than she was to Verity

[kizunarae]

thinking about how Fitz seems so blind to Kettricken's affection towards him in later books. I think he tried so hard in Royal Assassin to block Verity's feelings from overflowing in himself that he just could never consider it afterwards. and it was quickly filed away under Things Too Uncomfortable To Contemplate

[maxillness]

Ocean Eyes || SV5 x Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, implied age gap, bisexual!seb, Seb used to have (romantic) feelings for Lewis

Wordcount: 2.2k

Don’t ask me why this is set during Christmas break. I don’t even have the excuse I wrote it in December; I wrote it in February

Can we also just take a second to appreciate how cute this gif😭🫶

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace @aexitizen-ln4

It was snowing. Quite a lot actually. But it was expected when you were this close to Christmas

She hated the snow. It wasn’t really her, but she had to go out with the dog anyway

She stood on the porch, watching the dog play in the snow, trying to catch the snow flakes

She had been at her parents house for about a week now, and she knew they were close with the neighbour, but she had yet to see him

She figured that maybe he was visiting family and wasn’t home, but she couldn’t know for sure

Just as she thought about what he might look like, she heard a door open to her right. She looked over. When you talk about the devil

“Oh, hey” He smiled over at her “You must be Y/N” He said walking closer to the fence separating the two yards

“Yeah, I am. You must be Sebastian” She answered, walking over to him

“I am. Nice to finally meet you” They shook hands “You’re parents has spoken so much about you”

He was pretty. His smile was bright, making small wrinkles appear in the corner of his eyes- his eyes. They were the most drop dead, gorgeous, ocean blue eyes. Never had she seen such pretty eyes

“They have? Hope it’s only the good stuff” She chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed

“They say it in a way where can only think it’s good, if that’s any relief” He said, smiling back at her

His ears and nose, as well as his cheeks had started turning red from the coldness of the air, but it only made him so much prettier

A loud bark cut her out of her trance “Are you done?” She asked as she had turned around “Alright” She sighed “I better go. Nice meeting you”

“Nice meeting you too” He said before they parted and she went into the house again

“Saw you were talking with Sebastian” Her mother said, sipping her tea when she walked into the house

“Oh. Um, yeah” She said, taking off her coat and shoes and placed them neatly on their spot

“What’d you think?” She said, trying to hide her smirk behind her cup

“He’s… Nice. Don’t know enough about him” She went into the living room, slumping down on the couch and returned to her phone

“Good to know” Her mother whispered, taking a place in the living room as well

“I think I baked too much” She said, looking at the verity of cookies on the kitchen counter

“I promised Sebastian you would come over with some” Her father said passing her in the kitchen

“What? Why?” She asked, looking confused at him

“Because he doesn’t have anyone to bake for him” He answered before walking out of the kitchen

“Maybe he’ll invite you in for a cup of tea” Her mother said not looking away from her book

“Mom! Have you realised how much older than me he is?” She said, drawing her mom’s attention to her

“So what? Age is just a number, beside he thinks you’re pretty” She said, closing her book and putting it on the counter

“I’ll walk over with some cookies, but I won’t stay for long, okay? Deal?” She said, looking directly into her mother eyes

“Okay. Deal. Give him some of each, okay?” She said before leaving the kitchen

“Cookies?” She said the moment the door opened

“Hello to you too, miss y/n” Sebastian said, quite startled by the sudden words

“Sorry… Hi” She said, her cheeks lightly heating up

“Thank you” He said, putting his hand under the box of she had in her hands “Wanna come in?” He asked, opening the door more

She thought about the deal she made with her mom but decided to screw it

“Sure. Thank you” She said, taking a step into the small hallway

She took off her coat and boots as Sebastian walked to the kitchen to put the cookies away “Tea or coffee?” He asked when she stepped in the kitchen

“Whatever you’re having” She smiled, fidgeting with her fingers behind her back

“Okay. Just go to the living room and I’ll be in in a minute” She did as she was told

She looked around the pictures around her. They were pretty. It was mostly of mountains. Some where with who she assumed to be family or friends

One sparked her interest. She walked over to the shelf where it sat. It was an old picture. 2010 maybe. It was Sebastian and another guy

“That was a long time ago” He said walking up beside her “Here” He gave her the cup. Honey

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have-“ “No, it’s fine” She looked at the picture a moment longer before she opened her mouth again

“Who is he?” She sipped on her tea, hissing slightly at the burning water “You look like good friends”

“Lewis. We’re still friends” He sighed sipping his own tea

“Why’d you say it like that?” She asked confused, eyebrows knitted together

“The day that picture was taken, I told myself I was gonna tell him about my feelings towards him. I never did, but sometimes I wonder what would’ve happen if I did” He chuckled the last part, turning around and sat on the couch

She didn’t say anything, but she sat down on the couch turning her body slightly towards him

“I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re assuming” He said, turning his head towards her

God, were his eyes beautiful like this

“No, no. I’m not assuming anything, not against it either” That seamed to relieve some anxiety off his shoulders

It wasn’t an awkward silence they were left in

“Tell me about yourself” She said, sipping on her tea “You know practically everything about me, thank you parents, but I know nothing about you”

He agreed, and he seamed like he hated talking about himself, but he didn’t tell her that, she could see it in his eyes as he spoke

“It really isn’t that interesting” He chuckled, looking into his lost empty cup

“Not that interesting? You used to be in a sport where you risked your life every time you went. That seems interesting for a few lifetimes” They had somehow both ended up on the floor during their conversation

“A few lifetimes? That seems like a lot” He chuckled

“It’s a life risking Sport, of course it’s a lot” She said, scooting closer to him if that was even possible at this point

“You’re life is interesting too” He said, trying to get the topic off of him

“Not as much as yours” At this point, they were practically sitting in each others laps

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. She was lost in the blues of his eyes

“You’re eyes are so pretty” She said, not expecting the deep blush that landed on his cheeks

“T-thank you” He said flustered, looking into his hands in his lap “You’re p-pretty, too”

It was cute when he stuttered. She hooked her finger under his chin, lifting his head upwards again

“Thank you” She loved the way she made him blush like he did “You’re even more pretty like this”

That set off something inside of him. He pushed her hand away, pulling her in by her neck, smashing their lips together

He pulled her into his lap when she kissed back. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer

She pulled away, almost gasping for air. His blow pupils ruined the view she had of the ocean in his eyes

She drove back to his lips, but a little softer. She flicked her tongue over his bottom lip and he parted his lips immediately, letting her tongue into him

Maybe it was because it still lingered on her own tongue, but he tasted like honey. Sweet honey. Not like the shit kind you can buy at any grocery store, but a good one

He groaned into her mouth, feeling the way she was exploring every corner of his mouth. His hands were tighter on her hips, sensing shivers over her body

“It’s getting late” She mumbled into his mouth “I should probably go home” But she didn’t pull away from the kiss

“Mhm… You probably should” Neither did he pull away, he instead pulled her sweater over her head, throwing it on the ground

“Bedroom” The kiss had started getting sloppy and out of rhythm

He only shortly nodded while picked her up without problems, her legs hanging around his waist

He effortlessly carried her into his bedroom, softly placing her on the bed without breaking the kiss

He only broke the kiss to start trailing over her jaw and down to her neck, drawing out a string of whimpers from her

“Off” She barely said anything as she started tugging at his shirt “Please” He finally obliged and pulled his shirt off

Her hands went to his chest the second she could, feeling his skin under her palms. Her hands started wandering as he went back to sucking on her skin

She started bucking her hips upwards, wanting to feel him against her. His hands went to her back, unhooking her bra, pulling it off of her

He looked into her eyes as he placed a gentle kiss between her breasts. He pulled away before his hands went to her pants

He unbuttoned and zipped them down before slowly pulling them down her legs, pulling her socks with them

His fingertips felt like feathers when he pulled down her panties, kissing her legs on the way

He went up, spreading her legs before placing light kisses on the inside of her thighs. She whined when he passed the spot she needed him

“Sebastian, please” She bucked her hips, hoping to get closer to his mouth

He gave into her, pushing his tongue through her wet folds, grazing over her clit, earning him a moan

“Fuck, please! Keep going!” She threaded her hand in his long curls, pulling him closer again

He chuckled, but obliged. Bending her knees, holding around her thighs, he drove his tongue back over her clit, flickering it

She tried squeezing her legs together, but he managed to hold the outwards before she squeezed around his head

“Keep them apart, sweetheart” She whimpered at the nickname, trying so hard to spread her legs to give him access “Good girl”

One of his hands went towards her entrance, teasing her before pushing two of his fingers inside

She whimpered as her back arched off of the bed and he eyes rolled into the back of her head behind closed eyes

He started pumping in and out of her with a slow pace before finding a good rhythm he could work with

He curled his fingers, hitting just the right spot inside her making her almost screw out in pleasure

“At this volume, I think your parents might hear” He smirked, sucking lightly on her inner thighs

Her body started shaking slightly “Sebastian… Fuck. Feels so good” Her back started hurting from the position she was in

“God, you sounds so good for me. Fucking pretty moans” His tongue went back to her clit, putting pressure on the bundle of nerves

“Seb-fuck! Stop, stop” He immediately pulled out of her, looking with worry up at her

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his thumbs circling the skin on her hips

“Felt too good. Wouldn’t… Wouldn’t want to come without you” He chuckled at her words, but happily got out of his pants and boxers

He got in between her legs, pulling them around his hips, lining himself up with her entrance

He pushed in just the tip before slowly pushing all the way in, letting her slowly adjust to his size

“Move, please” He did so, holding her hips as he slowly moved in and out of her

“Fuck, you feel so good around me” He breathed out, sounding almost like a moan, but not quite

“Filling me up so good” She whimpered, looking up into his eyes, her hands clasped around his forearms, holding herself steady

If she knew that those fucking pretty ocean blue eyes would be looking at her like this, she would’ve visited her parents sooner

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, please” She moaned loud when he started hitting the spot that made her see stars over and over again

He could feel his own orgasm growing in the pit of his stomach “Come for me, Schatzi”

His accent sent her over the edge, her whole body trembling with such force that just looking at her sent him over the edge as well, filling her up with his cum

“Fuck, you’re even prettier like this” He chuckled, seeing her fucked out state as he pulled out of her

He got them both cleaned up before he tugged them both under the sheets

They barely got a moment of silence before her phone rang. It was tugged into her jeans somewhere on the floor

“I’ll get it” He said, seeing her exhausted state “It’s your mom” He chuckled

“Just let it ring through” She said, turning over onto her stomach

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Thirteen, Blossoming Verities

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Masterlist

-

Darkness. She could not see. Thick tendrils swarmed her as her limbs flailed, as she tried to swim upwards. Cold water pushed into her lungs as her head spun, as her lungs felt like they were exploding. Panic was all she could feel. A lone, empty type of ache and struggle. Eyes. She could feel them on her as she prayed to escape as her limbs started to give out. Just prayed as she began to sink into the liquid shadows; but a sudden splurge and she seemingly found a second wind. On her own. And finally, a sparkle of light gleamed through as her very own north star. 

Her throat was hoarse when she tried to call out Mihawk’s name, gingerly trying to touch him with her trembling fingertips. 

Sabine was positive that it was him who sat at her side, eyes closed as his head rested against a fist. Her vision was blurry at best, as if her eyelids had been glued shut from how she had to pry them open. Disoriented, body feeling as if it’d been thrown from a boat and hit the waves too hard. But amidst the dull ache in her head, in her limbs, there was also an overwhelming sense of relief. Relief that she was waking up in bed not in that dreadful manor, but with Mihawk by her side and that he’d come for her. 

It hurt to breathe as memories came back to her- the knife that plunged into her side. There’s bandages as she touched along her abdomen, feeling the fabric of the wrappings, showing it wasn’t a passing dream. She shuddered remembering how it felt to have the dive within her, how blood drained from it and it made her head woozy. It was a sickening feeling and one she tried to shake off, tried to breathe, swallow down her fears because she was alive. It was over. 

“Mihawk.” She rasped out, mouth dry, once more attempting to reach for him. 

This time his eyes snapped open, body awake as he regained his surroundings in a record speed. Warmth. It was all she could see written on his face as he looked at her. Such care plastered in his actions as he moved his chair closer, took her hand into his own and carefully cupped her left cheek with his other. Dilated pupils, parted lips, the faintest of pink dusting his cheek bones as he let out a deep shuddered breath, clearly relieved. 

No words were shared as their gazes connected and wicked sparks dazzled around them. A sense of comfort relayed between them with no words needed, content to be back with the other. 

“How did you..?” Sabine finally broke their silence as sudden panic alighted in her chest as more came back to her, “The other girl, Eve, where is she?”

“Marines took her for medical care. Giorgio is dead.”

Giorgio is dead. She swallowed hard, a mixture of confusion and solace came over her. It was if a piece of her was allowed to fly free, she was pounds lighter, the weight of her failures lifted, “I can’t believe… I’m glad, in a way.” A loss for words she found herself at. Like it was almost unbelievable. 

“It’s over. You have every right to feel the way you do.”

But it wasn’t all about her though, was it? She wasn’t the only one impacted. In a way she could argue she never bore the brunt of the pain Giorgio caused.“Do you know if.. Is she- Eve okay?” 

“I imagine so. Her injuries were less immediate than yours. I’m sure the Marines will help her get back on her feet.”

She nodded, thoughts still racing as she could recall them, “Did you.. Also see the girl in the basement?”

“No, but I heard about her after.” His stomach sourced at the thought of what Sabine had seen down there. He heard whilst the doctor was working on Sabine that multiple marines got sick from the sight, the blood and tools. Which meant her eyes should never have had to see it, it angers him. 

“Help me sit up?”

Mihawk helped Sabine as she let out a pained huff, face contorted with a flash of pain. He was gentle with her, careful where he placed his hands, and careful as he resituated the pillows behind her. He did not mind as she clung to him with extra strength behind the hold, barely using her own muscles to assist him. Like she was a doll he had to support her fully and he saw the shame in her tired eyes.

Her bottom lip quivered, fingers grasping his shirt, “You won’t leave, will you?” 

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Mihawk adjusted the shoulders of her gown and tentatively brushed back stray pieces of her hair. He wanted to be closer. Wanted to scoop her into his arms and hold her, take in her scent and the feeling of her skin. So close to losing her, the doctor had said she almost lost too much blood. 

“No. Not until you wish me to.” 

“Then I’m afraid we’ll never be apart.” Sabine gave her best smile, even if it was barely a sluggish half grin. But it still made Mihawk’s heart flutter, his insides shuddering with pleasure. 

“I apologize… For not getting to you sooner, not knowing I was drawn away as a diversion.” For Mihawk, apologies were rare on his tongue, almost difficult to say. But his emotions towards feeling like a failure for not protecting her elicited the apology, he’d needed to get it out. Needed her to know he felt awful.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault or mine. Giorgio told me his attempt to draw you away took lots of planning and details for execution, that it tired him- something like that. Does it have to do with haki? But either way, he knew how tough an opponent you would be, and was mad at me for bringing you. But then he just left, had that disgusting puppet follow me, it… Tried to kill me.” Tears pricked her eyes, words spilling out, “And that girl in the basement, I could barely breathe. How could someone do that?” 

“Sabine…” A sadness to his eyes, his chest deflated before he took in another breath. The cogs in his head churned furiously.

“I know, you don’t need to tell me. His victims started to look like me, I’m guessing that’s on your mind, I noticed it in the basement.”

He sighed as he positioned himself closer, taking her hands into his to relish her touch. Soft skin littered with goosebumps that trailed along each place he touched. Her presence seeped deep into his bones and his for her. Intricate, intertwining vines that scoured through one another’s veins, nerves, bodies. Rooting so deep, making it so it would be impossible to part, impossible to tug from the depths of where their connection sprouted from. That the necessities for a plant to be nurtured to grow big and strong (sun and water), every second Mihawk and Sabine had shared from Baratie to this wretched Isle in search of her answers- was that very food. Was what allowed them to grow. 

“None of it was your fault.” Mihawk knew the girl in front of him well enough to know she’d find a way to blame herself, “Giorgio attached himself to you because you were the closest person to figuring him out a year ago even if you didn’t realize it. He could have latched onto anyone else he deemed a worthy adversary to his… way of life.”

“You mean his brutal torture basement, killing hobby.”

“Yes.” He cracked a smile, “Simply put.” 

“And I know that… I mean he was odd during our time together,” She shuddered thinking back to the wine, to Giorgio’s unsettling behavior, “Gods I never want to think about him again.” 

“Then don’t, for now. Let yourself rest.” 

She could only smile at that, her chest fluttering as she lolled her head against the bed’s headboard. Looking at Mihawk with stars in her eyes, a heavy contentment to be in this moment with him built. 

How long had she slept? She was still exhausted, feeling burdened physically and mentally. Like she was living in a fog, her eyelids began to flutter closed, heavier. 

“Don’t let me sleep.” She mumbled, words beginning to slur. 

Mihawk said he wouldn’t allow her to drift off, but if she’d seen his face she’d have known that was a lie. He shifted so he sat beside her on the bed, letting her head fall to his shoulder. ‘Out just as quick as she had awoken,’ it made him chuckle. 

His heart wrenched in his ribcage as he watched her sleep looking so peaceful. How cute she was as she’d nuzzled further into him murmuring faint nothings. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back for much longer, he gently laid her back down. Sleeping whilst propped up was not proper. And the longer she lay against him, the more likely he was to cave. To cave into the raging emotions and incessant reverberating that was the desire- endearment- love he felt towards her. 

The following days meshed together as the doctor who patched her up wanted to watch over her for a while. And she was more than happy to lounge around all day, resting and being waited on. Cardinal Joseph came by plenty, Eve had visited as she was staying down the hall- all the while, Mihawk didn’t leave. Sabine already began to dread their parting. She knew, as the air turned stale and the time ticked forward, the conversation would be coming. For Sabine still had months remaining and she knew Nami would be getting impatient while waiting for a call. It was overdue. 

Tears came down thickly. Sabine felt ridiculous as she carefully wiped them from her puffy eyes. Ridiculous for crying, for blubbering, for ruining her freshly applied makeup. There’d be no recovering it, especially as she stood at the docks.

Mihawk said he’d stay until the Going Merry arrived for her. Sabine insisted he leave first. 

So it was their time to say goodbye, but with the knowledge there’d be a future meeting. A future meeting that could be their final, or the beginning to a fantastic unknown between them. How Sabine wanted to smash her lips up onto his, to pull him down by the neck and tangle her fingers through his brown hair. She wanted to feel his hands on her as he held her, showed her his emotions, and hoped he’d decide to not let her go. But Mihawk would not do that. He was noble in the sense he respected her and wanted the best for her (not in how he carried himself on the sea, she was sure). 

His thumb swiped along her flushed cheeks, wiping away stray tears. The time Sabine had with him she could see the moroseness on his features, the stalled breath as he stared deep into her. Before, she would have thought him emotionless. It tugged at her heart strings, her lower lip trembled. 

How vividly similar this moment was to the one they shared at Baratie, as Zoro bled out and Mihawk was leaving. How he kissed her forehead, bidding her words that she’d never forget. 

He did that again, now. Mihawk’s lips on her forehead burned, pink flushed her cheeks and neck. Goosebumps swarmed her skin. Butterflies swam in her stomach and Sabine thinks the love clawing and expanding within her chest might just kill her. Love. 

Sabine won’t tell him that she loves him, it’d be cruel to do to them both. Knowing she’d have one final chance at the end of her sabbatical quenched the need within her to spit it out. This didn’t feel like last time in the sense of goodbyes, she’d been confused and scared about Mihawk. Now, she was certain in her feelings and trust in him. 

“I will see you soon.” He spoke low, every one of his muscles twitching to grab her and leave. To keep her close. It took all his willpower not to, especially how her eyes glittered with emotion for him. 

“I would hope so. Wait… How will you know-”

“Don’t worry.” Those were his last words for her as he kissed her hairline, lips lingering.

Mihawk’s aura eventually was gone. His presence that had seeped deep into her bones, coursed through her veins had left the Island. And it hurt. Sabine wallowed in grief for him as her body screamed in metaphorical pain for him to come back, that she’d been foolish to send him away first. 

Minutes- maybe hours passed before Sabine could get ahold of herself, could finally stop the tears. With the height of the sun in the sky, she knew she still had more time before the Going Merry would dock. With that time she’d tie up loose ends with Cardinal Joseph then gather her things from the hotel. It was a solid plan, but one she dreaded all together. 

Sabine wandered back through the city, to the familiar gates and then architecture of the church Cardinal Joseph would be. But she moved lethargically, as if she were a ghost lost and looking for a way out of this plane of existence. She needed silence in a peaceful, holy place that would allow her to quell her worries to think. And think she needed to do. Because the end of her sabbatical would be upon her and no time and avoiding that fact any longer would only hurt her in the long run. It was time to properly sort out her emotions and the past, to come to terms with herself. 

-

The second Sabine boarded the Going Merry, she was met by familiar faces she didn’t realize how much she had missed. Her name was yelled from the deck and before she knew it she was wrapped up in embraces. Sabine was almost certain based on how tight Luffy and Usopp hugged her, she’d have popped out her skin. She winced in pain due to their excitement putting her body through some unneeded action. 

“Ah, let’s be careful.” She tried to smile, not wanting anyone to worry. She was older than all of them! It was her job in some sense to appear the most stable, or complete. While she couldn’t take care of them in fights, she wanted to be seen as capable on other fronts. So her cheeks begin to heat with pink, she didn’t want to immediately inform them of her escapades that almost led to her death. 

“Are you hurt?” Luffy asked in terror as he saw the way she stiffened and hand shot to her lower abdomen. 

“Maybe.”

Next she knew she was surrounded by the crew and bombarded with questions. Sabine wasn’t sure where to start precisely, it felt like a momentous task to explain now that it was over, now that Sabine could look at everything through a lesser emotional lens. 

“I’ll just start from the beginning, the easiest thing to do.”

And she did, the proper beginning really. 

They group settled below deck around the dining area in the kitchen. Filled with nerves for a reason she didn’t understand, she began to explain the events that led to her arrival at the Monastery, her mother and father. She talked of her struggle with faith after events with the Deacon, talked about the job that sent her to Angelica Island because of a supposed demon taking lives. Then the nightmares. And then, she told them of her last few weeks; Mihawk and Giorgio. It was a relief to tell them, to talk about her disconnect from what she once believed, and how grateful she was to be back with him. Thankful. Sabine felt lighter by the minute, even with a dull ache beneath her bandages, comfort coursed through her. 

Zoro made a face, “So Mihawk was here?”

“Kidnapped?” Sanji’s mouth dropped. 

“We parted for a few weeks and you almost died!” 

“Hey at least there wasn’t an actual demon.” Usopp added, “That would be freaky.” 

Sabine let out a faint giggle at their concerned comments, the horrified and semi confused faces. In that moment she wasn’t worried about her ending sabbatical or the fact she experienced multiple traumatic events. As much as her soul yearned for Mihawk, wished she could reach out and touch him, she was glad to be back on the ship. Fondness glittered in her eyes as she leaned back into her seat. The faces of these five helped her further the resolve that churned within her. Now all that was left was to wait; enjoy the following weeks.  

-

posted: september 2 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 @gizamalblythe @anonymousewrites

[saturnznct]

d3 - christmas in chicago | jhs

➸ word count; 1240 words

➸ jude; aged 14, verity & katie; aged 5, connor; aged 1 month 

➸ alternative names used; junho (jude), eunyoung (katie)

dadmas masterlist | nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Surprisingly, your five-year-old twins are not the ones who wake you up at five in the morning on Christmas Day. Instead, you arise to the sound of your one-month-old son fussing in his bedside crib.

You stretch, shifting around to position yourself upright. It’s been roughly three or four hours since you last fed, and your body reacts accordingly, loose white t-shirt beginning to dampen. 

‘I’ll take him,’ Johnny murmurs from behind you, in his raspy morning voice.

‘He needs fed,’ you reply, lifting Connor up from the crib and onto your chest.

‘I’ll keep you company,’ Johnny settles further into the pillows, lightly tickling Connor’s feet with his finger.

This year, you’d found yourself in Chicago for Christmas. Last year you had spent the holiday in Korea after staying there for a little stint because of Johnny’s work, but you had come back to your home in Chicago during the summer to prepare for the birth of your youngest son.

Your hair falls as you turn your head to smile at Johnny, so he reaches a hand out to push the stray hair behind your ear. 

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful,’ he rubs your cheek on the way back down with his thumb, before dropping it down to the back of Connor’s head, ‘and Merry first Christmas, little man.’

‘Merry Christmas, John. Our last first Christmas,’ you smile lazily.

‘Well, I mean, we could have another surprise-‘

‘Absolutely not,’ you interrupt, and he laughs sheepishly, ‘four is more than enough.’

‘I know, I was kidding,’ Johnny kisses your elbow, ‘I love our family so much.’

Johnny just watches you feed for a few minutes before your bedroom door cracks open, two little girl’s faces appearing behind it.

‘Hey girls,’ Johnny sits up on his elbows, the twins taking it as an invitation to come inside.

‘It’s Christmas, daddy,’ Katie crawls up onto the bed, Verity not far behind her. 

‘It is, angel,’ Johnny lets her crawl into his arms, ‘do you think Santa’s been?’

The twins nod rapidly, both inching closer towards their father.

‘Can we go downstairs and go and see, daddy?’ Verity bounces on her heels with excitement.

‘Mommy’s feeding your little brother, Vev,’ Johnny explains, ‘we’ll have to wait until he’s done, okay?’

‘Okay,’ the girls sigh, slightly dejected, but the excitement quickly outweighs it.

The four of you talk quietly for a few minutes, the twins buzzing about potential presents Santa may have brought them. Once Connor pulls away from you, the twins automatically straighten up, ready to jump out of bed to harass Jude into waking up.

‘Girls-‘ Johnny tries to get them to slow down, but they’re already reaching up and pulling your bedroom door open, plodding along down the hallway towards their older brother’s bedroom.

‘Can you manage?’ Johnny lays a warm hand just under your shoulder.

‘Yeah, you go make sure they don’t jump on his head.’

Johnny leaves the room as you rise from the bed slowly, beginning to pat Connor’s back.

Jude is leaning against the hallway wall, half asleep still, once you emerge from the bedroom.

‘Morning,’ you chuckle, his face brightening when he sees you and his baby brother.

‘Can we go downstairs now?’ Katie tugs on Johnny’s sleeve. 

‘Yeah, come on angel, let’s go and see what Santa’s brought you.’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Grandma!’

‘Hello little ones,’ Johnny’s mother hugs her granddaughters before looking up and noticing Jude.

‘Junho-ah,’ she breaks away from the twins to hug Jude, ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘John-ah, Y/N! How’s the little one?’

‘Groggy,’ you turn to the side slightly to show Connor laying against your chest half-asleep, ‘someone is ready for his morning nap.’

‘Go put him down, his little crib is still in the spare room.’

Johnny’s parents had a little fold-out crib for Connor just in case you spent a long time there. 

‘I’ll put him down, come on,’ Johnny takes Connor from you, rocking him slowly as he ventures up the stairs.

‘Merry Christmas mum/mom,’ you hug Johnny’s mother, ‘thank you for hosting this year.’

‘You know how much I love cooking for you guys,’ she replies, ‘you’ve made such a big family, it warms my heart to have you all here together.’

‘He went straight to sleep,’ Johnny reappears at the top of the stairs, ‘all the Christmas excitement made him tired I think.’

‘Now that we’re all here,’ Johnny’s dad says, ‘lets start on presents!’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Oh, Eunyoung, no,’ Johnny’s mother lunges across the kitchen counter, grabbing Katie by the waist and lifting her down from the stepstool, just as she was about to put her fingers in the cake batter.

‘Sorry mum/mom,’ you manage to eventually catch up with Katie, the one month old Connor in your arms, ‘I lost sight of her for like two seconds.’

‘It’s okay dear, you should be sitting! Wow I’m getting too old for this.. Where’s my son, he should be- John!’

Johnny appears in the doorway behind you, holding Verity.

‘Sorry, little miss spilled water all over herself.’ He lets Verity down, who scampers over to her Grandmother and twin sister.

‘Girls, how about you go play with your new toys?’ Johnny’s mother suggests, ‘let your mum/mom rest.’

‘No, I’ll help you with dinner-‘

‘No you will not,’ she fires back sternly, ‘you just gave birth. Go sit on the couch and relax.’

Sensing that she won’t back down, you retreat to the couch, where Jude is laying around on his phone.

‘Are you ok, mum/mom?’ Jude looks up from his phone in concern when you quietly whine in discomfort.

‘I’m good, just achy,’ you don’t think your teenage son wants the details of your postpartum body. 

‘Can I do anything?’ He offers, forever the sweetest boy.

‘You could play with your sisters,’ you suggest, ‘stop them from getting in your grandma’s way.’

‘Okay,’ he throws his phone down, wandering over to the girls and feign excitement over their dolls.

Johnny helps his parents with the cooking, darting around the kitchen, pulling things off the hob, out of the oven and into dishes ready for the dining table. 

‘Dinner’s ready!’ Johnny’s mother calls.

You place Connor in the crib you’ve brought downstairs, as Jude and the twins practically sprint over to the dining table.

‘Ah-ah, not so fast,’ Johnny chastises, ‘let’s carry a dish each.’

He gives the twins a cooler dish each, which they carry to the table and put down, before sliding into their seats. 

‘You, sit down,’ Johnny’s mother swats at you when you appear in the kitchen and try to help.

‘Alright, dig in everyone,’ Johnny’s mother announces.

‘Kids,’ you begin sternly before they pick up their utensils.

‘Jal meogeotseumnida,’ the kids chirp in unison, Johnny’s mother laughing as they start stuffing their faces as soon as the last syllable leaves their mouths.

‘You’re welcome.’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Hey,’ Johnny is sitting up in bed, orange glow of your bedside lamp illuminating the bare skin of his chest.

‘Hi,’ you’d just finished saying goodnight to Jude.

He wraps his arms around you once you’re in bed beside him.

‘I had the most perfect day,’ he murmurs sleepily.

‘Me too. Exhausted now.’

‘M’not surprised. But I love being in Chicago with you, and our family.’

‘It feels like home, doesn’t it?’

‘It is home. But anywhere with you is.’

‘You’re so cheesy,’ you cringe, ‘but I agree with the sentiment.’

‘Merry Christmas, I love you.’

‘Merry Christmas, John. I love you too..’

[zawescource]

‘I always play extreme characters’: Zawe Ashton on life after Fresh Meat

As Vod in the hit Channel 4 show she shocked even her own parents. What’s next for the actor-writer-director-producer?

The problem with interviewing someone you feel like you already know is how quickly it can go wrong. One minute you’re saying hello in the empty east London pub you’ve agreed to meet in, spontaneously hugging each other. The next, you’re trying to order a glass of wine and Zawe Ashton is horrified, because it’s not even 5pm yet. She reckons we should have tea instead, so we do. And then she says, “Oh God, I can’t believe I wine-shamed you.”

It is then that I realise Ashton isn’t actually Vod, the student she plays in the Channel 4 student sitcom Fresh Meat. Vod is a literature student who doesn’t read books, preferring partying, shagging and paying her way by selling ecstasy. Ashton, 31, is a straight-A scholar, who spent all her childhood weekends training as an actor, and thus has been earning her own money, appearing on telly in The Demon Headmaster, Jackanory and Desmond’s, since the age of six. Unlike Vod, Ashton has also written a play that’s being developed by the National Theatre; has a book deal for something that sounds like an autobiographical novel, “but I can’t talk about it. Well, not much. Well, I probably will”; and has set up her own production company, Asylum Features, to release films that she writes and directs herself. She is, I have to concede, a bit busy for pubs.

What Ashton does have in common with Vod, however, is that they are both very funny, as becomes apparent when we discuss what it’s like being hailed as “one to watch” and getting nominated for “best newcomer” awards when you’ve already been working for 25 years. “The single perspective shot, Stanley Kubrick, down the corridor,” she says, her mind racing ahead. “Aww, there’s a little girl down there! And then you get closer and she turns round and has the face of” – she puts on a scary voice – “a 200-year-old woman. That is my career right now, in a nutshell. I’m actually at retirement age, internally.” She estimates that she might be due a breakdown. “Or a Macaulay Culkin moment where I just go generally off the rails. Or a Winona Ryder moment, shoplifting.” She thinks about Winona. “How did that happen?”

We head to a quiet room upstairs, where Ashton sprawls across an armchair, all long arms and legs and funny voices, her mind scattering ideas like wildflowers. She recently got back from LA – she bought a plane ticket and left the same day – and found herself getting lured into the new age scene in Venice Beach and Topanga Canyon. “I know it’s the worst word ever,” she says, grimacing, “but I really am transitioning.” Ashton has been to LA several times before, though she won’t say why (you get the feeling there might be various projects in various Hollywood pipelines she can’t yet discuss). This time, she says, a conversation with a guru has left her believing she might be on the cusp of a whole new stage of her life.

Perhaps this transition will liberate her from the anxiety she describes as something of a constant in her life. She was not a carefree child, and even playing Vod, who can be so comically unaware, takes a great deal of awareness. At one point I ask her if it was a relief that the only real sex scenes she’s ever had to do as Vod were more comic than sensual. “A relief?” she repeats, as if I have brought up something as unlikely as Antarctica or a hippopotamus. She is almost breathless. “There’s never any relief! Relief is not a word that ever enters my mind, about anything.”

Does she never give herself a break? After all, plenty of people say they want to write a play, a film, a book, but hardly anyone wins the London Poetry Slam Championship in 2000, a Verity Bargate award nomination in 2007 for her debut play, Harm’s Way, or a Raindance film festival nomination in 2014 for best British short for Happy Toys, which she directed. “Well, I think I am like other people. It’s just that I think I’m going to get to the end and then give up. But wow, thank you for saying I finish things, because I really think I am such a scatty person.”

She credits Lena Dunham with showing sex on TV that is not actually sexy, and also with the inspiration for writing, directing and acting in her own shows. “As a woman, you do have a sense that if you can do other things, then you should. If you feel, mmm, the roles are getting a little” – she raises a sardonic eyebrow – “repetitive, and you know you can write, then you should write a different role. It’s a quadruple indemnity mission. I plan on having a long career. I don’t want to burn out. It’s like, I have the shield, and I have the lightsaber” – she is doing movie voices now – “these are my weapons of choice! Hopefully, one of those will come to serve me in some way.”

Does she feel she owes it to the world to redress the balance? “Well, the world doesn’t have to give a shit in any way. It just feels like a fulfilling and smart thing to do.”

Ashton grew up in Stoke Newington, north London, the eldest of three children, and has recently bought her own flat not far from there, living with her boyfriend, a film distributor, whom she prefers not to talk about. Her mother Victoria arrived in England in her teens from Uganda, where Ashton’s grandfather, Paulo Muwanga, had briefly served as both president and prime minister. At a Christmas party, Victoria met her future husband Paul, a working-class cockney who was the first in his family to go to university (Cambridge). The couple both worked as schoolteachers, Victoria teaching design and technology, and Paul teaching English – though he later moved to Channel 4 to commission education programmes for teachers, so telly was always a presence in their house, as well as literature. The three children went to local state schools, and young Zawe was taken to Anna Scher improvisation classes merely to “burn off some energy”. She instantly loved it. “It is very odd to be a very tiny person and know what you want to do.”

Famously, the Anna Scher theatre has produced lots of big names including Kathy Burke and half the cast of EastEnders. But Ashton says it was precisely the unstarry nature of the place that shaped the artist she would become. “It was a weekend drama class that cost £2.50, and we weren’t supposed to do commercials, we weren’t allowed to use the words star or fame – they were banned. You had to say actor or success. You couldn’t say, ‘I want to be a star’ because it was meaningless, just empty calories.”

Ashton recounts a story about a black boy being sent home from an audition, having been told that he could never be the Milky Bar kid. Scher, who did the teaching herself, dedicated an entire session to discussing with her pupils where the casting people had done wrong. “We were armed with all of this amazing… activism, I suppose. She’s an amazing woman. You were always encouraged to know why you wanted to act. Politics is not something you think about as a kid, but I realise now that she was infusing us with a level of conscience. You had to be on time, you had to be present. The number of birthdays I missed. I just gave up every Friday night and Saturday afternoon for 14 years.”

It was a dedication that didn’t make her popular with other children at school. Ashton was bullied, and eventually moved secondary school when the threats of beatings from other teenage girls, who knew she was taking days off to film for TV, became too much. At City and Islington College, she found better friends who shared her love of poetry. She took A-levels and applied to do drama at Manchester Metropolitan University.

Then came results day. “I got hurried by my teachers into an antechamber. They were like, ‘Have you opened your results yet?’ I was like, ‘No? Should I? Oh my God, I’ve got three As.’ I was overwhelmed, because it had been a really tough year. My mum had been really ill with cancer. They all said, you have to take a year off to apply to Cambridge now. So there was this crossroads moment – you know, when you realise your life could go in two really different directions? But then the stupid, stupid girl – no, I’m joking. I’m really glad I did what I did.”

What she did was take a year off to look after her mum, and then went to Manchester Met anyway. The course was a bit of a disappointment, she says, the teachers intent on making Ashton less experimental, disparaging her idea to do things such as walk around the audience trailing a red ribbon behind her. (She pitched the same concept at a local experimental theatre a week later and it came second in a commissioning competition.) But she experienced student life, and the partying that she had missed while being such a focused child. She went to Manchester nightclubs and got into DJing, experiences that would prove valuable when she auditioned for Fresh Meat years later.

Written by Jesse Armstrong and Sam Bain, the duo behind Peep Show, the show is set in the fictional Manchester Medlock University. Vod is a blunt, libidinous raver; tub-thumping and workshy, with a thudding estuary accent and directional hair. She shares a house with a mismatched group of students – Jack Whitehall, “who makes me laugh so much”, plays the posh twit whose family money has bought the house. In one memorable scene she is made to read Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children and tells the class the book makes her feel “like I’ve got this pompous, fat, naked man sitting on my face, and he’s resting his big, overrated bollocks on my airways”.

Ashton auditioned for the part about eight times, and saw so many other actors there, of every type and look, that she realised she could make Vod her own, that she wasn’t being asked to play any kind of trope. I ask if there has been any negative response to the only black character in the group ending up as a drug dealer. “NEVER!! Oh my God, that’s never something that’s come up,” she says, clearly surprised by the question. “And I feel like, she’s not even as extreme as a ‘dealer’. Vod is someone who capitalises on situations, sometimes ones that are really misguided. It all goes really horribly wrong – I think Vod’s got a lot of obstacles this series. I’m quite excited about watching it.”

She might well be watching it alone, however, or certainly without her dad, who isn’t too keen on seeing her shows. She might have developed her sense of humour from her parents (“They are my favourite comedy double act”), as well as her love of language (“My dad is such a brilliant writer”), but he can’t get used to seeing her on screen. He pretends her shows are radio plays, so he can keep his eyes closed. “Actually, I told my dad he should watch the episode with Vod and her mum, and he said, ‘I’d love to.’ Then he came in and I was right in the middle of saying the c-word. And he was like, ‘Might just go and put the kettle on again.’ ”

She recently played another challenging role in Not Safe For Work, a much bleaker Channel 4 comedy by playwright DC Moore, about the jilted generation of thirtysomethings whose job security has disappeared. Ashton plays Katherine, one of a group of civil servants whose jobs are relocated from London to Northampton following public sector cuts, and who has to maintain a steely professional exterior to hide the way she is falling apart inside. Other roles have included a small part in Doctor Who (for a moment, she was the bookies’ first choice to become the first female Doctor), and the lead in Dreams Of A Life, Carol Morley’s documentary film about Joyce Vincent, the woman whose remains were found on her sofa three years after her death, with the television still on.

“I just always play these really extreme characters – they’ve all come with parental guidance stickers on them. I did this Abi Morgan play at the Donmar just now and she said, ‘You play a lot of outsiders, don’t you?’ And I was like, ‘Oh my God, I do!’” She looks surprised. “And she said, ‘Outsiders who don’t need much male intervention.’ ‘Well, yes, I do,’ I said, like I knew that about myself.”

Other theatre work includes Othello at the Globe and Gone Too Far! at the Royal Court, which is the theatre where she took the young writers’ course and wrote her play For All The Women Who Thought They Were Mad, at 24. It was inspired by research into the way that psychiatric medication affects women, and the way that black women in particular are often over-medicated, so that their health deteriorates even further. “There are stories of women in pretty powerful positions, in jobs, suddenly finding themselves in institutions, unrecognisable to themselves and their friends,” she says. “So I just had to sit in the research and think about it, but there was a writing competition. The night before the deadline, I said to myself, you really owe it to yourself to deliver – just do it. So I sat down and wrote it in an actual fever, staying up for 24 hours.”

Next up is the Genet play The Maids, a double-hander with Emmy-winning American actor Uzo Aduba (best known as Crazy Eyes in Orange Is The New Black), opening in London next month. “It’s going to be really, really interesting to explore two characters who are essentially ready to burst from the beginning of the play.”

After that, perhaps she will have time for a quick personal collapse, though it seems unlikely. “I don’t really have the luxury of having a breakdown,” Ashton says. “I’ve just been working for a really, really long time.” And yet that 200-year-old woman in the corridor has got another century ahead of her, at least.

[variousqueerthings]

after 3 straight days of queer movie-watching at the festival (with an interlude to play some football) and my brain being overloaded with Stimulus, feel like I need to compile my thoughts on the experience overall: 

1. lotta DIY work, which is a great reminder that if you want to make, you can + opens up conversation around how institutions do not fund this kind of work (in the UK especially there’s a limit to spaces one can go for funding). the real experimentation/cinematic bravery isn’t happening for half a billion dollars, it’s being done on a shoe-string budget. that being said, one really wishes there was more money to be had in this, simply because it would make people able to live off the work and make much more

2. lot of sports-related stuff, both fiction and documentary, which is funny considering where a lot of my own focus is these days. also got to meet Verity Smith, which was a bit of a hero-moment, and he gave a lot of great info on the state of sports nationally and internationally. and yeah, I got to play football for the first time in 10 years!

3. generally met a lot of great people. I think the idea about “networking” as it’s been presented to me as an artist (including the word itself) is still a big problem, and will always be. it’s got too many concepts baked into it that don’t gel with the kind of work I do in the communities I do it in + my particular flavour of brain, but that being said -- once I realised that there are spaces where meeting/connecting with people in your specific field of work, where this aligns with queer practise of shared needs for what that work represents and is for, then yeah, I kind of got what networking was all about. So I could talk freely about my own work + listen to theirs, and not feel like we were just sussing out how we could use one another to get ahead 

when I was studying, there wasn’t this kind of... idk, discussion of ways that working in an arts industry -- with all of its [waves hands at the microcosm of any and all industries and life that is in the mainstream run by capitalist colonialist patriarchy] many many issues -- can be interacted with from different perspectives, so it’s neat to be able to find ways to do that by simply being in spaces like these

4. watched both wildhood and set it off as my main two fiction features (the others I either couldn’t make it for or missed parts of due to overlapping events). the former feels like a wonderful breath of air + fits into a space of both canadian first nations cinema that I’ve been lucky enough to get to watch, and queer cinema. the movies are getting made and they are good -- one does have to look for them/be active in spaces where they would likely be disseminated, which tbh is also an ethos of artistic engagement + community engagement that I’m very in favour of anyway. in order to get to the deeper stuff, it doesn’t do to simply sit back and wait for it to arrive. it does exist! go find it! 

also the sex scene in it was 👀👀👀 smthinsmthin water as metaphor belongs to the queers

also I’d been wanting to watch set it off for ages, as (only?) the second lesbian crime movie, next to bound. set it off isn’t technically centred on lesbians, but one of the leads is openly shown to be a stud/butch, and she’s respected/liked by her friends. I’m curious about how this film feels to the Black lesbian community and perhaps Black film-goers as a whole, since [spoilers] it’s got a fair bit of police violence and very little in the way of happy endings. 

where I sit with it, is that it’s criminally (ha) underrated and oughta be discussed in the same breath of compelling characters that exist in heat and dog day afternoon -- the bittersweet-at-best tragic ending fits with the general tone of this specific take on the genre (the non-oceans-movies versions tend to have mixed-to-tragic endings), although the violence does hit closer to home/more realistically than in most other heist films. and all the main characters are So So Cool, which is important for a good heist film! 

5. also got to watch two documentaries about older queers, one about the history of the Chicago bar “sidetrack” and the other about older queer people in Ireland. These connections and stories are so vital, and queer-cinema-as-documentation feels like one of the most queer things one can do. We love a documentary, because we’re trying to make sure those connections are built, that we don’t forget our pasts, that we have roots. there are people from whom we have these torches passed, and they’re our elders, even across continents.

also thank you to that lesbian couple acknowledging that young people are really struggling with money in this modern capitalism. definitely feels like it puts the work of the festival I was at into perspective -- with spaces closing and difficulty in renting (especially in cities), we need to find ways to open up spaces for one another

6. also I had a little curated archive piece up there and people said nice things to me about it 😭😭😭

[shadow-solace]

Deep Inside chapter 1

This is a work of fan fiction, based in a very alternate universe, with my favorite characters and settings chosen for use with little to no regard for anything cannon in any way. I do my best to stay true to the characters as I understand them but obviously there will be adaptations to the environment. Also the subject matter is primarily romance, smut, porn and erotic fiction. If that offends you, feel free to move on. I'll be happy to list any specific tags or warnings on each story as it pertains. Also, rather than y/n I write with original characters with backstories and descriptions so once again, if thats not what you enjoy, I'll save you the time. If you're still with me, welcome and enjoy the ride.

***************************

It was hard for Verity to sleep on any average day. She had so many stories in her head from the people she had touched with her power of tactile empathy. She drew a bit of them inside herself - their emotions, hints and flashes of memories, their essence. She did her best to purge them but even when they were more or less gone there was always some residue left behind. An echo in her soul. 

Verity had gotten better at turning it off as she got older, but when she was young she had been terrified that one day she would be so full of other people's echoes that she would lose herself entirely. 

Tonight was another sleepless night. It was a hot summers night, but she had the windows open and the air conditioning in her room turned off. She loved the smell of nature, the sound of the crickets. The humidity made her skin a bit sticky with a fine sheen of sweat, and she tied her tank top in a knot just under her breasts and stripped down to her underwear, but she hated the staleness of the air conditioner.  A summers night was almost a living breathing thing; a work of art like a symphony or a poem. 

She turned on Miles Davis love songs and sat in front of the box fan with a glass of iced tea.  

Life with the avengers was complicated, but something about it felt right.  She had been recruited by Sam Wilson to be a member of the team he was rebuilding with the help of Pepper Stark and the Tony Stark foundation. There were several others on the team but she was the only mutant, and Sam had named her Ambassador. They were hoping her presence on the team would be a step toward acceptance for mutants - in a day and age where the government was considering a mutant registration act.  If they pushed that act through, mutant concentration camps might well be the next step. 

Yet another thing to lose sleep over, Verity thought with a sigh. Yet tonight it wasn't nightmares or worry about the safety of mutantkind that kept her awake. It was the man in the next room. Bucky Barnes. 

She'd known he was not good for her the moment he walked in the door about a month ago.  Or stalked in the door, more like. He had made it obvious he didn't want to be here, but for whatever reason, he had agreed to come. 

Now she sat here, sweaty and sleepless and all she could think about was that man.  It had been a damned long time since she want wanted someone like she wanted him, and to make it worse, he knew it.  She could see it in his eyes, in the way his gaze lingered on her face - the way he licked his lips at her.  He had started to make a habit of passing by her closer and closer, never actually touching her but close enough they could feel the heat radiating off one another.  They hardly ever spoke to one another, but his eyes said so much. 

She closed her own eyes and ran an ice cube from her chin, down her neck and between her breasts, focusing on the sensation, trying to be content with her own touch - she had opted for that more often in her adult life than taking the risk of touching a lover long enough, intimately enough that she lost herself in them completely. She'd had lovers, of course, but she was careful to choose them. She had been cautious - safe. 

Bucky Barnes was definitely not safe. 

 But as she felt the ice cube draw her nipples to a peak, she realized it was his hands she was imagining holding the ice. His blue eyes, watching her intently in the way only he did. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips parted at the thought, her nipples growing sensitive and hard, she ran the very tips of her fingers over them feather gently and moaned lightly at the depth of the sensation the very thought of Bucky's mouth on them brought on.

She was lost in her fantasy and allowed herself to whisper his name on a whimper as she twisted one nipple, imagining it was his teeth nipping it instead.  She wished desperately she could bury her hands in that thick brown hair. 

What she didn't realize was that Bucky heard his name from the other side of the wall, his own window open, his mind too full to sleep just the same. He held his breath and listened, and her heard her rapid, irregular breathing, the jazz music, and then he heard her whimper lightly and draw in a sharp breath as her fingers dipped between her legs and she imagined they were his. 

He let his breath out slowly, already stirring at the thought. She was a beautiful woman, and he admired her strength. He'd known she liked flirting with him, and he couldn't lie to himself - he wanted this. Needed it, he realized, reaching down and shifting his erection in his pants because they were quickly becoming uncomfortably tight.

It had been a very, very long time. So many things were different, expectations and boundaries had changed. He wasn't sure he was ready for this but when he heard her breathing coming faster and the sound of her bed shifting under her as she… fuck. He was climbing out his window before he had time to talk himself out of it. He was already shirtless, his dogtags dangling against his chest, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.   He stared in her window for a moment, licking his lips absently as he caught sight of her on her bed, her head thrown back against the mattress, her breasts arched up toward the ceiling her nipples the color of roses, tightened into little buds as one hand rubbed them. The other hand… oh the other hand. He moaned out loud at the sight of her legs bent at the knees, spread wide to reveal all of her. She was rubbing her clit in small circles with that other hand, pushing up with her feet to lift her hips now and sliding two fingers deep inside herself.

He was breathing hard as he watched, aching… he didn't even realize he was undoing the fly of his pants until it was open. *shit* he gasped out loud, unable to tear his eyes away as she withdrew her hand and closed her knees, sitting up to look out the window with a gasp. Her long brown hair tumbled around her shoulder and she drew her knees up to her chest modestly.

"I… uh, I heard my name." Bucky told her, licking his lips and smirking. His steel blue eyes were almost translucent and shining in the moonlight, his muscled chest was as beautiful as she had so often imagined. 

When he climbed in her window she did not protest. It had been a long time but his instincts were carrying him now as he reached the edge of the bed and grabbed her ankles and with a firm tug dragged her across the bed to him. He stroked her cheek as he gazed down at her. He didn't say a word but he loosened his fly and let his pants fall low on his hips, his impressive erection springing free as he continued to stare into her eyes. His vibranium arm reached up to stroke her hair, smoothing it back from her face and down the back of her head with a gentle, suggestive pressure. 

She whimpered slightly, not from fear but excitement as she lowered her face and reached up to grasp his engorged cock in one hand, running her tongue teasingly along the tip and hearing his sharp intake of breath as he reflexively thrust his hips. His head fell back, eyes closing. He swallowed hard and when she did not move, he looked back down at her, his chest heaving and his blue eyes full of confusion. She smiled up at him and started to stroke him with her fist.

"Say please, Sargeant Barnes." She told him with a smirk of her own. He let out a sharp breath and chuckled at her, sliding his hand into her hair again.

"Please." He whispered breathily. "Please, Verity." And with her eyes still locked on his she opened her mouth wide and leaned forward to take him in. He thrust hard then checked to make sure it hadn't been too much, that he hadn't hurt her and she hummed in pleasure as she began to slide up and down, meeting the rhythm of his hips in opposition. Soon he had both hands in her hair, his head falling back, his lips parted in absolute pleasure. 

"Oh, doll." He murmured, his hands still stroking her hair.  Suddenly with one last deep thrust of his hips he cried out sharply and came and came for longer than either knew was possible. As she swallowed it all down she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and watched him. His eyes were still shut, his chin against his chest, his mouth forming a small o as he blew out a long breath. He began to smile broadly and chuckled deep in his throat before looking her in the eye again.

"That was good." He told her with a tilt of his head. Before she could respond, he pushed her back on the bed hard, with his vibranium hand and dropped to his knees. He pulled her legs up and draped her thighs over his shoulders, spreading her wide with cold metal fingers and making her hips jump, and his mouth dove in to catch her. His tongue was broad as he tasted her for the first time and he moaned in pleasure at the taste of her. Then his lips found her clit and sucked until hurt, then he eased off and flicked it with the tip of his tongue to soothe the pain. She cried out, her hands spread wide, gripping the sheets blindly as the pleasure built near to boiling and her hips moved involuntarily up and down and he chuckled at the way he had her squirming.

 Two cold vinbranium fingers slid in, then three and she met his thrusts with her hips again with blind need. When he lowered his face again to trace circles around her clit with his tongue, slowly at first but growing faster and faster she couldn't take it anymore and she arched her back her legs spreading as wide as they could as she pressed herself against his tongue and her entire body was drawn down to her core as wave after wave of orgasm tightened and released against his face. When she could think again, breathe again she looked down at him wiping his glistening mouth and chin of the evidence of her arousal. He grinned at her, those blue eyes sparkling - he was clearly very proud of himself. She chuckled a little, suddenly feeling a little shy.

He climbed up onto the bed next to her and leaned on his vibranium arm, cupping one breast in his other hand and running his thumb over her nipple to make her jump. 

"Hi." He said with a light chuckle. She blushed and grinned, then covered her face with her hands.

"Hi." She said when she was able to come out from behind her hands.

He lickd his lower lip again as his blue eyes slid over every inch of her. He finally put his hand under her chin and lifted it so he could lean down and kiss her, slowly at first but then more hungrily as his tongue began to demand entrance, exploring her mouth and rubbing roughly against her own tongue, taking her breath away again. He took her hand by the wrist and guided it down to grasp his cock, fully erect and throbbing again to her surprise. It was a pleasant surprise and her hum of interest made him smile. 

"Super soldier serum." He whispered against her lips with that cocky smirk. Before she could think of anything clever to say he claimed her mouth again, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. He took her by the hips and she opened herself with one hand, guiding his thickness into her as she lowered herself slowly onto the full length of him, moaning as she felt him press against her cervix. 

"Oh god." She moaned, her head thrown back as he lifted his hips to grind even deeper into her and she screamed, literally screamed and clenched hard against him as he stretched and filled her almost painfully. He let out a cry of his own followed by a gasp and a chuckle, he seemed to take that as a dare and he did it again, more forcefully, his lips drawing back with the effort of his straining muscles and he set a merciless pace - his thumb found her clit again and it only took the slightest pressure before she came, wave after wave of wet contractions so tight around him that he gasped and panted, his blue eyes narrowing but never closing and never leaving hers. 

As soon as she was done, she collapsed, exhausted- but he wasn't finished yet. He slid out from under her and let her lie facedown on the bed moving around behind her. He gave her a firm slap on the ass and laughed when she yelped at the sting. He used his knee to spread her legs again and grabbed her by the hips pulling her up to him and diving into her once more. He was merciless this time, riding her hard and fast as she gripped the sheets with white knuckles and bit the pillow to keep quiet. Finally she couldn't help it and screamed out his name.

"Bucky, oh God, Bucky!" He began to slow, afraid he might've hurt her but she whimpered, "oh God, please don't stop! Don't stop!" He chuckled that breathy laugh of his and he reached one hand into her hair and twisted, pulling her up toward him.  

"Say please, doll." He breathed hotly in her ear and she could feel the slick wetness leaking out of her trembling pussy.  

"Please, Bucky." She whimpered as he began to suck and nibble at her neck,, his hand still pulling her hair almost painfully.

"Please what?" He teased, his mouth against her skin as he spoke.

"Please fuck me!" She gasped, her hand cupping her own breasts now, her thighs shaking with desperation. 

"Like this?" He teased moving ever so slightly, gently.

"Harder!" She begged. 

He moved slightly harder then stopped..

"Harder!" 

"Harder, what?" He teased mercilessly, nibbling on her ear lazily. 

Hand still holding her in place by pulling her hair.  

"Oh, Bucky Please! Fuck me hard!" She finally moaned none to quietly and she could feel him smile against her skin..  he thrust his hips hard and buried himself again and began to ride her harder than she'd ever had before.  When she came this time it felt like it was her whole body and she cried out loudly.  With two more thrusts he stopped cried out victorious, a low primal growl of a sound.  He finally letting go of her hair and collapsed on top of her on the mattress.  He rolled over onto his back, still gasping and panting. They were both coated in sweat and smiling like maniacs. 

He knew she had to be sore. He lay on his back, his vibranium arm across his eyes for a moment while his gasps slowed and his breathing more subdued. He reached over and stroked her skin gently, inviting her to come closer. 

Verity kissed him gently, slowly once, twice, and then lay her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"That was unbelievable." She chuckled, "I needed that." She began tracing the line of hair from his belly button to just above his now satisfied manhood and back up again.

"Me too doll." He sighed happily kissing the top of her head. "I haven't done that since 1942." He chuckled.

"Well, you've got me beat in that contest I guess." She chuckled, kissing his chest lazily. She couldn't get enough of him.  He put his hand under her chin and guided her to lift her face so he could kiss her softly, lazily on the mouth again. 

When they finally grew still, they lay on the bed for awhile just breathing happily, listening to the summer sounds outside the window. 

"You asleep?" She asked eventually.

"No." Bucky sighed. "Your sheets are soaking." He laughed lightly. She laughed too. "That's not all my fault." She replied. 

"You, uh.. you want to sleep in my bed? With me?" Bucky asked awkwardly. Verity propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him in the dim lighting and saw something new in his eyes. Shyness. Vulnerability. 

"I'd like that." She agreed with a feather light kiss. She watched as he slipped back into his jeans, and she put on her robe. He glanced at the window and she laughed. "Let's just go through the door this time." He smiled and nodded as if a bit embarrassed. 

"Right." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.  She reached out and took his hand and let him lead her to his room.  They fell asleep quickly once they were in his bed, laying on their sides with him spooning her tightly. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. 

They slept peacefully for a couple of hours before she started to talk in her sleep. 

"Stop. Stop!" It started as a gentle protest, but soon she was screaming and thrashing. "Stop! I can't…" 

"Doll?" Bucky was startled awake, sitting up and gazing at her in shock. "Hey, it's ok… wake up, it's ok." Suddenly the bedside lamp flew of the table and smashed against the wall, and everything else began to shake and move, flying around and smashing into things. The bed itself began to shake and lift up off the floor.  

"Verity! Wake up!" Bucky grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up. As she snapped awake, everything she had been unconsciously throwing around with her telekinesis fell to the floor, including the bed. It fell to the floor with a crash, and before they had fully oriented themselves, Sam and Yelana were knocking down the door.

"What the hell?" Sam yelled. 

"Kinky." Yelena quipped, looking around the room at the mess. Bucky scowled fiercely at both of them. 

"I couldn't stop! I couldn't… oh, God, I didn't want to…" verity cried out, tears pouring from her eyes.  "Oh, Bucky.  I'm so sorry…" she wept, touching his face. She'd been having his nightmare.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch10: Hustle

Chapter Summary: It’s date time!!! Woohoo!! The slow burn has FINALLY burst into flames”

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings:  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 High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 9

“And there is no, no song I could sing, and there is no combination of words I could say, but I will still tell you one thing…we’re better together.”

Fliss checked herself over again in the mirror and bit her lip. Frank had told her to dress casually, and bring a sweater as it could get a bit chili on the water at this time of year. She’d opted for a pair jeans with ripped knees, a sleeveless black top with white lace detailing in the shape of daisies and a pair of high-top pink converse. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun and her make-up was heavier than she normally wore but not too obvious. That said, she still felt…

Actually what was it she felt?

“That’s what you’re wearing?” John looked her up and down as she emerged from the walk-in closet. Fliss felt her heart sink, she’d spent ages picking this outfit for the night out John had said they were going on.

“What, is it not…” she asked and trailed off.

“No, wear a dress, for fucks sake Felicity, we’re going to an up-scale restaurant, not a goddamned diner.”

At that point she heard her mum calling, jerking her back out of the memory. She took a deep breath and grabbed her long black cardigan. Frank wasn’t John, and she wasn’t fucking Felicity. With a final check of her appearance she headed down the stairs to find her mum waiting in the living room of the annex.

“Oh you look lovely!” Verity gushed and Fliss smiled.

“Thanks mum, you okay?”

“Yeah, just came by to ask if you wanted us to take Thor for the night or,” there was a glint in her mother’s eye and Fliss gave a snort.

“I’m coming home.” she shook her head “This is a first date. What do you take me for?” “Well it’s been a while.” Verity shrugged, nonchalantly and Fliss picked up a cushion off the sofa and threw it at her.

“You’re terrible.”

Verity caught the cushion and tossed it back, smiling. “Ok, honestly, I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all.”

“Big girl mum, sure I can handle a date. Besides, it’s Frank.” she shrugged.

“I know.” Verity replied, and studied her daughter for a second, a softness on her face, but before Fliss could reassure her some more, she heard Frank’s truck pull up outside.

Fliss moved round her mum and opened the door, ushering her out.

“Okay, I get the message!” Verity held her hands up, calling Thor. He obediently trotted after her. “I’ll put him back in later.”

“Thanks mum.” she smiled as she waved at Frank who had cut the engine and was just climbing out.

“Bill let me in.” He said by way of explanation as Fliss looked at him. “Hi V.” He nodded to the woman and she gave him a warm smile back.

“Hi Frank.” she said, turning back to Fliss, looking over her shoulder as she walked “Have fun kids, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves a lot…” Fliss said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as her mum laughed and disappeared up the drive to the main house. She turned to look at Frank who smiled at her as he walked round the back of the truck. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, dark blue sneakers and a light blue button down.

“You look great.” He smiled at her and she flushed a little, all her earlier trepidation vanishing as there was nothing but softness on his face.

“Don’t look too bad yourself, Sailor.” she replied a little shyly, and he grinned, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he followed her into the house “Although I was kinda hoping you’d wear one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts.”

“You literally just called them hideous.” He rolled his eyes

“Hideous and endearing.” She quipped, grabbing her purse before she retrieved her cardigan from where she had tossed it onto the sofa.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

With a smile he offered her his hand and she took it without a second thought, and allowed him to lead her to the truck.

******

Frank parked his truck outside his house and led Fliss down the path towards the docks. They chatted comfortably as he made his way to the boat he’d borrowed for the evening and before long he’d fired it up and was steering them out of the harbour and into the bay. Fliss sat down on one of the benches, her legs resting on the wooden step in front of her, sunglasses covering her eyes as she glanced out over the water, the wind gently catching the loose strands of her hair and her sweeping bangs. Frank glanced at her every so often, simply drinking her in.

Eventually he picked up the speed ever so slightly and then called to Fliss, nodding to a cool box on the side that Dave, the owner, had left for him when he’d told him why he wanted to borrow it. He liked Dave, often swung a fair bit of work his way and he was a good man, always tipped Frank well.

Fliss retrieved two bottles and flipped the tops off before handing him one.

“Are you allowed to drink and be in charge of a boat?” she asked.

He shrugged “Never been stopped yet.” She smiled and took a drink, moving to stand besides him.

“Can I have a drive?" Fliss looked at him

"Thought you sailed a boat?" Frank said, teasingly as he took a mouthful of Bud.

"You're a dick, Adler" Fliss deadpanned back.

Frank laughed "Whatever, and no you can’t."

"Why?" she pouted.

"Because I don’t fancy having to call Mary from Puerto Rico"

"Hmmm." Fliss pondered, swallowing her beer. "Are we even on the open ocean yet?"

"No"

"Well how the fuck would we end up in Puerta Rico?" She laughed "And, according to that compass," she pointed to the dial in front of them on the cockpit of the boat, "we're heading South West so we would hit Havana or Cancun first anyway. That is once we've actually made it out of the bay of course."

"You know it's no wonder you and Mary get on so well.” He shook his head. "Both smart asses."

She chuckled as she stood beside him and they made their way at a reasonable pace across the water, Frank keeping his eyes peeled for what he was hoping to find, and after five minutes or so he spotted the tell-tale ripples on the surface of the bay and grinned. He changed course slightly, heading towards his target and was just about to finally tell Fliss what he was heading towards when one of the dolphins broke surface. It was a small leap but Fliss gripped his arm and gave an excited gasp.

"Is that...are they dolphins?"

"Yup." he grinned at her. She looked at him in amazement and he smiled as they sped forward towards them, watching as another leapt out of the water, this time far higher as they continued to follow the pod, Fliss making her way to the stern for a closer look. To Frank they were a common sight but for Fliss, who had never seen them in the wild so close, it was amazing, and the smile never faded from her face for the entire time. She glanced back at him every so often, beaming, and it made his chest flutter every goddamned time she did. Eventually after about twenty minutes or so the pod dived and then emerged a little way ahead of them and Frank slowed down a touch, allowing them to pull away.

"Wow." Fliss breathed as she made her way back towards him and Frank took her empty bottle and tossed it into a garbage bag along with his own. "Frankie, that was..." she sighed unable to express what she was feeling. Frank chuckled softly watching her before he reached for her arm, gently pulling her in front of him as he stepped back.

"Take the wheel." He said softly into her ear.

"Fuck, what?" She stiffened slightly

"You wanted a go."

"I was only joking...I can't sail this thing!"

He laughed. "Come on its easy, I'll show you look.” he moved closer to her, his chest brushing her back as his hands gently fell over hers on the wheel. He steered with her for a moment before he gradually let go and his fingers softly traced up her arms.

Fliss felt the goose-bumps spring forth at his touch and at the same time Frank noticed her breathing changing slightly and he suddenly worried he had overstepped the mark. But, as his hands stopped at her elbows, she turned her head slightly, her face inches from his as she looked up at him over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth and he took the initiative and leaned down pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss which, although fleeting, sent shivers down his spine. They both pulled back for a second or two before their lips were back together, this time the kiss a little stronger and Frank's right hand felt for the key in the ignition of the boat and he turned it cutting the engine. Fliss chuckled against his lips as she turned round to face him.

"Just out of interest, what happens if the boat doesn't start again?" She asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head so she could see his eyes.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Are you doubting my handy-work, Cowgirl"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sailor." she murmured as he closed the distance between them, his hands falling to her hips before he kissed her again.

Frank already knew he was an utter gonner for this woman and the feeling of her mouth on his and her body pressed against him simply solidified that fact. It was as if this was what he had been holding out for, like it was just meant to be. Her arms snaked round his neck, and when one of her hands fisted gently in his hair, he gripped her hips ever so slightly tighter and his tongue skated along her bottom lip, seeking permission. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and he took the lead, his hands sliding round to her back pulling her closer. It was passionate, deep, the two totally wrapped up in one another, no regard for the fact they were on a boat, merely drifting across the bay.

It was only when a loud cheer hit their ears that they broke apart and both turned their heads to see a larger boat floating last with a group of four men passing, all raising beer bottles at them in a toast, shouting and hollering various cat calls. "Friends of yours?" Fliss asked, Frank's hands gently rubbing at the base of her spine. "I have absolutely no idea who they are" he gave a chuckle as the boat full of guys headed off past them into the setting sun.

The moment broken, Frank gently moved round Fliss and started the boat back up, grabbed another two beers whilst she shrugged on her cardigan, before he stood back and let Fliss pilot the boat for a little longer, using the excuse of straightening up their direction to touch her in some form or way as often as he could, until the light started getting dim and he reluctantly suggested they should probably be making their way back. Fliss moved to let him take the wheel and, to his delight, as he moved to steer, he felt her hands link round his waist and her cheek press into his back. They stayed like that until she needed to move so he could move the boat back into its allocated spot before bringing it to a stop.

He stepped off the boat, gave directions to Fliss as she remained on the deck and the two of them ensured the boat was moored properly. Frank hopped back on board, made sure everything was locked down and then stepped onto the jetty again, offering his hand to Fliss. She took it and stepped onto the wooden platform besides him and he smiled as she adjusted her hold so her fingers were laced between his. They walked in silence back towards the main area of the harbour, the lights twinkling on the water as they walked down the wooden planks.

"So Mary's staying at Roberta's." Frank broke the silence. "What do you say we take this date to Ferg's?"

"You wanna take me to Ferg's on our first date?" She asked, her hands sliding up over his chest to his shoulders and he bit back the moan that had arisen in his throat at her touch. "How romantic..."

"Come on cut me some slack" he chuckled as his hands fell to her hips again "I took you out chasing dolphins in the sunset!"

"Hmmm, well, I suppose when you put it like that." she grinned, reaching up to close the distance between them once more in a soft, sweet kiss "I'm just kidding, Sailor. I like Ferg’s...it has character."

"One way of describing it." He chuckled as he places and arm round her shoulder. “You alright to walk, it’s only ten minutes or so from here.”

“Walking’s good.” she nodded, leaning into him. ***** "He Joe, can I get an eight bucket?" Frank looked at the bar tender, hanging him a twenty "And can you make sure there's change for the pool table?" "No worries..."

As Fliss came back from the restroom, Frank smiled at her, and then suddenly cursed himself as he realised he hadn’t asked her what she wanted.

“I ordered beer. Is that ok or did you want something else?” “No, beers great.” she beamed at him, “But thank you for asking.”

Frank didn’t press the fact that she didn’t need to be so grateful at common courtesy, he figured that was another hang up from her asshole ex and he had no intentions of bringing that fucker up in any way, shape or form tonight.

Joe set the bucket down, handed Frank his change and Frank tipped him before he handed Fliss a beer and picked the bucket up with one hand, gently steering her away from the bar, towards the pool table at the back with his other, fingers gently splaying at the lower part of her back. He set the beer bucket down on a table to the right and then fished in his pocket for some change. “Wanna make this more interesting?” He asked as he slid the coins into the shot.

“I'm not playing strip pool, not in the middle of a bar anyway.” Fliss shook her head, taking a mouthful from her bottle.

“So you would in private?” he grinned as the balls rolled down and he bent down to retrieve them and started to place them on the table.

She smirked

“Okay, filing that for future reference.” he said, pointing his bottle at her as he straightened up.

“You don’t have a pool table.”

“I’ll get one.” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh. “But no, I was talking about a wager.

She groaned “I'm really shit at pool.”

“Ok, we’ll do best outta three, .and I'll even give you a four ball head start on the first game.” he coaxed.

“What's the bet?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Loser buys the shots?”

"You know it’s probably easier if I just go buy em now."

“Ah, c’mon!” he said, his Boston drawl slipping out slightly stronger than normal. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Fine.” she said, with a heavy sigh. “But I’m buying Tequila. I can’t stand Sambucca and straight vodka makes me want to hurl”

“Whatever you say sweetheart.”

It turns out Fliss wasn’t exaggerating. On their first game she really was terrible. Frank laughed as she pouted at him and told him he was mean as he pulled another two beers from the bucket, handing her one, before racking the balls up again before he chalked up his cue.

“You’re break.” He smiled and she rolled her eyes as he positioned the white ball on the spot. She took her cue and bent over the table.

“Ok, move your hand,” he said, reaching over and repositioning her hold, “little more accuracy…but you need to put some power behind it too.” He moved her right elbow back and guided her arm through the shot and it broke the pack with a satisfying clack, sending a striped into the top pocket.

“Guess I’m stripes.” she shrugged, standing up, her back brushing against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and moved so she could take the next shot. The game continued in this vein, Frank helping her, showing her where to aim so she hit the balls in the right spot, continually correcting her elbows and guiding her hands so that she didn’t hit anything too hard. There was an intimate quality to it too, being pressed behind or over her and at one point he certainly had a twitch in the groin area and had to back away, leaving her to it.

After he deliberately fouled up on the final shot, Fliss ended up winning and she stood straight and looked at him.

“You did that on purpose.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Makes it interesting for the final. Tie break.”

“Can I break again?” she asked as he racked the balls up.

He nodded, strictly speaking it was his turn but, well, like it mattered. He was going to win anyway.

Fliss broke and potted a solid this time. And then she proceeded to pot shot after shot. Frank’s mouth fell open as she moved to her next ball, then the next and she looked up at him, smirking as she nominated the pocket just in front of him and then sank her last ball without him even getting a single turn. He could do nothing but stare at her for a moment before he snapped his mouth shut.

"You just eight balled me." he looked at her.

She shrugged

"Wait, did I just get hustled?" he asked, realisation washing over him. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a grin and he groaned as he shook his head. “Fuck me.”

“Think you owe me some shots.” She teased, pulling the last two bottles of beer from the bucket and handing him one.

“Where did you learn to play pool like that?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Well when I was competing I was on the road a lot with the team.” She smiled. “We socialised in the evenings, guess I just picked it up. That’s also where I learned how to hustle.”

“I don’t know if I should be pissed off or impressed.” He teased, picking up the bucket which was loaded with their empties as they made their way back to the bar.

Or turned on…

“Can’t you be both?” she looked at him and he laughed.

“Tequila was it?”

Three shots each later they were both definitely feeling the buzz and at that point Fliss insisted she needed to switch to water, explaining she was still up early in the morning for lessons, reminding him that Mary had one at two.

“So I get to see you tomorrow as well?” he smiled and she grinned.

“Must be your lucky weekend.” she smirked.

“Clearly.”

The soft flirting continued for another half an hour before Fliss reluctantly groaned and said she needed to get home. Frank didn’t want the evening to end but he got it, it was past midnight and she was up at seven.

As he walked her out to her cab, she declined the offer of him riding with her and smiled, turning to face him.

“I had a really great night.” she said, shyly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her hear. “Thank you.” “Me too.” he said, honestly. He smiled at her, before he moved towards her, his arm circling her waist before he dipped his head to catch her lips in a soft kiss.

“See you tomorrow.” she smiled, her head resting against his before he grinned again and opened the door for her.

“Yeah, you will.”

**** Fliss groaned as her alarm went off, blinking and grimacing at the light. Her head was fuzzy, that tequila really hadn’t been a great idea. Then the memory of the rest of the date came back and she smiled to herself, laying her head back on the pillow. Allowing herself five minutes of dozing and basking in the memory and warm feeling she had, she eventually knew she had to get up and headed for the shower.

Thankfully she was up too early to encounter her mother, who she knew would want the gossip. She had half been expecting her to be waiting when she got back but suspected that her dad had probably forbidden her from doing so. After a coffee and some headache tablets she felt ready to face the day and grabbing a bottle of water she headed out to her jeep. Just as she climbed in her mobile went and she opened the message smiling as it was from Frank. A simple “Good morning” with a kiss at the end. Biting her lip, she sent him a reply before she climbed into her car.

She hardly had time to think about anything once she arrived at work. She opened up, checked her diary, indulged in a little bit more text flirting to and fro with Frank before her nine am class arrived and then it was none stop until lunch. Joanne was gently drilling her for information on her date but she was giving nothing away, other than the fact she’d enjoyed herself, before she threatened to sack the woman if she didn’t stop asking. Joanne merely smirked knowingly and shrugged before she changed the subject.

It was about half one when Frank and Mary walked onto the yard, Mary barrelling straight for Fliss before she headed into the barn to see Monty.

“Hey.” Frank smiled at Fliss and she beamed back, suddenly a little shy, for what reason she had no idea. He looked good though, faded jeans and a white polo shirt with a red horizontal stripe running across his chest.

“Hi.” she smiled at him. “She’s keen!” she gestured to the direction Mary had gone in.

“She’s been dressed and ready since eleven.” he groaned “Kept badgering me to bring her earlier.”

“You should have done.” Fliss smiled as she headed back to the office, Frank taking the opportunity to eye up her ass in those damned fine riding breeches before he hastily averted his gaze as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’ve told you, I’m not averse to child labour.”

Frank chuckled and followed her into the tack room, pushing his shades up onto his head, and she gave a small yelp of surprise as his hands fell to her hips and he spun her round.

“C’mere.” he said softly, pulling her to him, his lips meeting hers. She eagerly kissed him back as his right hand slid up to cup her cheek, and then the door to the tack room flew open and they both jumped slightly, Frank turning round to see Mary and Joanne stood there. Joanne looked at Fliss, smirking slightly and Mary paused for a moment before she put her hands on her hips and eyed Frank.

“About damned time.” she said, with a very Roberta-esque air.

Frank groaned as Fliss giggled, her cheeks burning slightly before Mary looked at her, then to Frank before she grinned and shook her head.

“Roberta’s gonna love this…” **** “Oh come on!” Frank groaned as Fliss scored another strike, turning to hi-five Mary. “This is nothing but a fix up.” “Oh quit your fuss.” Fliss teased “Not my fault you decided you could take us both on. Did you not learn anything from Friday night?”

“Yeah, not to trust innocent little British girls who claim they’re crap at something.” He said, his hands on his hips.

“Who said anything about being innocent?” She winked at him and, damned, if that didn’t stir something in his belly. Shaking his head, and glad it was his turn, he moved to pick up a bowling ball making his way to the aisle. He took aim and then staggered back as Mary was swinging off his arm, cackling.

“Ok, now this is sabotage.” He said, raising his arm slightly before his other moved to tickle at her waist. She let go hastily, dropping onto her feet, her laughter loud as she moved backwards. “Did you tell her to do that?” he looked at Fliss.

“Hey you brought her up, don’t blame me.” Fliss smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes, taking his shot.

They had another few games as on Wednesday it was half price before they left, Frank in a pretend sulk after he had basically had his ass handed to him for the second time that week by Fliss and they drove a few minutes down the road to the Ice Cream parlour.

As they sat enjoying their treats, their talk turned to Thanksgiving which was the following week and Fliss asked them both what they were doing.

“We went to Roberta’s last year but this time it’s her year for going to her sisters.” Mary said.

“They alternate.” Frank explains. “Every other year her sister comes here and we join them, and then the others she goes there.” “Which means this year,” Mary grinned at Frank, “I get to pick dinner. And I want Chicken nuggets!”

“Woah, hang on.” Fliss said in a horrified voice. “Chicken nuggets on thanksgiving? You can’t do that!”

“Sure we can!” Frank scoffed. “It’s thanksgiving, we can eat whatever we want, ain’t that right Stack?”

Mary nodded gleefully. “Yup, we always have fun!” She said, shovelling more ice cream into her mouth “We watch the parade, have candy for breakfast, and always remember we have stuff to be thankful for, right Frank?”

“Even more so this year.” He smiled and Fliss grinned back. “So, what do you do?”

“Oh, we don’t do the sit down dinner, it’s not a British thing.” Fliss shrugged. “I’ll be doing the horses that day to let everyone have the time off and then Mum and Dad throw a party in the evenings for their friends who all come round.” She looked at him. “I’m assuming you two are gonna join us this year?

“Is that an invite?” Frank asked, his hand falling to her knee under the table.

“Dur.” She smiled at him. “Besides, my mum would cry if you didn’t show up. Think she prefers you to me now.”

They stayed where they were, ordering more ice cream just because, well, for no reason other than they could, before they headed back to drop Fliss home and Frank told Mary to wait in the truck.

“You gonna kiss again?” She asked and Fliss let out a laugh whilst Frank simply shook his head as he climbed out.

“Can I take you out again on Friday?” He asked as Fliss opened her door.

“I’ll have to check my really busy social calendar.” she said, pausing “Nope, I’m free.”

“Good, I was talking to Greg before and he told me about a really nice bistro in town…so I thought…”

Fliss wrinkled her nose. “Can we not just grab some food and go and sit by the sea?”

Frank hesitated. “Well yeah but, I thought…” “Look, fancy dinners are great every now and then but,” she sighed, “it’s all he-who-shall-not-be-named ever did.”

“He-who-shall-not-be-named?” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, kind of reduces him to an evil, fictional twat, it suits him.” Fliss shrugged. “Anyway, he persistently took me to the most expensive places, paraded me around like some kind of fucking trophy, putting on this illusion that he was this great guy and,” she shrugged, “I had so much fun last Friday and tonight, I just…” she trailed off and groaned, wrinkling her face up, her hand pinching the bridge of her nose before she looked at him apologetically “Sorry, that sounds really ungrateful.”

Frank stepped forward and cut her off with a soft kiss “No, it doesn’t.” he assured her with a smile. “And as it happens, I know just the place we can go.”

*****

“Oh my God!” Fliss grinned, eyeing up the Mexican street food wagon by the beach in St Paul’s which was lit up by dozens of rows of fairy lights. “This is perfect!”

“Well I figured seeing as last week we didn’t go to Mexico, I’d bring Mexico to you.”  Frank grinned, inwardly purring at the fact she was so pleased.

“What’s good?” She asked.

“Honestly, all of it.” Frank smiled “But the pork and chicken burrito is my favourite. Oh, and the nachos.”

“Okay, I’ll go with that.” She smiled as they joined the queue. It wasn’t long before they reached the front and Frank placed their order, pulling out his wallet. Fliss caught his hand.

“Let me.” “No.” he shook his head.

“Please Frank.” She looked at him. “You paid last Friday and Wednesday.”

He looked at her, ready to argue but there was something in her eyes. And he found himself wondering again if this was some kind of independence thing, one she hadn’t been allowed before.

“Alright.” He shrugged “But I’m buying the drinks later.” “Deal.” She smiled, handing over the cash.

They took their food and sat down at one of the plastic tables, which was illuminated by a small candle in a jar. Fliss enthusiastically picked up her food from the basket, digging in and nodding in appreciation.

“This is so good.” She said with a mouthful, and Frank laughed as she nearly dropped half of it down the front of her pink top “Shit.”

“How did you miss?” He asked and she flicked him the finger as she continued to eat, chatting about their day.

“Greg called.” He suddenly remembered he hadn’t told her and at his words she looked at him “He’s got a date for the court hearing.” “Oh?”

“Twelth of December.” Frank leaned back. As he did so his right leg stretched forward and brushed against her left, which she gently moved closer so that their ankles were almost tangled together.

“That’s good.” she smiled “So by Christmas it’ll all be done?” “Yup.” he nodded, with a sigh “I’ll be glad with it’s finally closed.” “Have you heard anything from Evelyn?”

He shook his head. “I’m not dismissing her just yet. I have a feeling she’s gonna apply for access but if she does then that’s up to Mary. It’ll be her decision.”

Fliss nodded and then leaned back, her food now gone.

“Wanna grab a few beers and go sit on the beach?” Frank asked.

She grinned and he stood up, offering her his hand and he led her over to the truck. A couple of minutes later, both clutching a Desperado they headed down the lamp lit steps and onto the soft shore of the Public Access area of St Pete’s, making their way over to a bout of flat rocks which lay against the shore wall. Frank sat on one and Fliss perched next to him, gently leaning her head against his shoulder as he dropped a kiss to her head, dropping his arm round her.

They sat in a comfortable silence, watching as the moonlight bounced off the calm sea, the sounds of the gentle waves all they could hear.

“You okay?” Frank broke the silence, pulling her closer as she shivered slightly “Cold?”

“I shouldn’t be.” She chuckled. “It’s tropical compared to Boston.” “Yeah but you get acclimatised.” he smiled.

“Do you ever miss it?” Fliss asked suddenly. “You know, the seasons, big city living?”

“Sometimes.” He nodded. “But then I remembered why I moved and…”

“I know that feeling.” Fliss mumbled. “But, I still wish we got snow at Christmas.”

“Mary’s never seen snow.” Frank shook his head.

“We should go back sometime.” Fliss mused. “I mean, maybe not to Boston but New York perhaps. I always wanted to go in December time but I never got round to it.”

“Any particular reason or…” Frank asked, with a feeling he already knew the answer.

She looked at him “What do you think?”

Frank shook his head “I know I’ve said this before but I really would love to get sometime in a room with him, one on one.”

Fliss laughed “Yeah, you’ll be behind my Dad and Steve in the queue I’m afraid.” Frank snorted and then turned to look at her “Okay, then next year we’ll do it. We’ll go to New York. In the winter.”

“Already making plans with me for next year huh, Sailor?” she teased, and he shrugged and looked down at his feet for a moment before he turned back to her.

“Yeah.” he said simply “Yeah, I am.”

Fliss smiled and bit her lip slightly, the significance of what he was saying didn’t pass her by. He wanted this to work, he wanted this to be something more, but then she knew that already. She’d known for weeks that there was something deeper there than a little bit of dating fun. “Well, I can run with that.” She swallowed, her eyes shining. “But only if we can have a snowball fight, I can kick your ass at that too.”

He tilted his head to look at her and snorted “You’re a little aggressive on the sly, aint you?”

“Frankie, I competed for a living, you got no idea.” she grinned at him.

With a chuckle he studied her pretty face for a moment before he shifted slightly, finger tilting her chin up before he pressed his lips to hers, his fingers gently caressing her neck as the kiss deepened. A soft moan escaped her mouth and fuck, that noise went straight to his groin.

Things were quickly getting heated as her hand slid into his hair, keeping their mouths locked together, his tongue dominating hers before he eventually pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.

“Carry on like that and I’m not gonna be able to stop.” he whispered to her as she let out a soft sigh, and he tucked her hair behind her ears. She smirked back slightly, her eyes locked onto his.

“Did I say I wanted you to?”

Oh.Jesus.Christ.

He looked at her before she smiled and stood up, offering him her hand this time. Without a word he took it, and they walked back the way they had come little more than an hour earlier.

***** How Frank drove back to hers without crashing he had no idea, his mind was as far from being on the road as it should be, but he had, and here they were, stumbling into her bed room, heated kisses being shared as he kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on hers. Her fingers were now on the hem of his grey T-shirt and she gave it a tug, and he moved so she could pull it up over his head, tossing it to the floor somewhere and her hands moved up his sides and over his shoulders, nails scratching at the back of his neck, causing him to groan softly into her mouth as his hands gently slid under her top at the back, his touch sending shivers up her spine. His lips moved from her mouth across her jaw line, and then down her neck and she tipped her head back, giving him more access, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his beard on her skin.

Taking the lead, Frank backed her towards the bed as his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly and in a flash he pulled it over her head, before his hands gently smoothed back her hair that had flown over her face before he stole a glance at her and groaned at the soft pink lace trimmed bra that she was wearing. As the back of her knees hit her bed, he gently lowered her down, positioning himself over her, caging her with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down her neck and her jawline, the soft noises she was making were turning him on even more and he moved back to claim her mouth in another searing kiss. She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards.

Frank was toned, Fliss could see that. His shoulders and arms were ridiculously defined on account of his physical job, and she had always been able to see that with the t-shirts and tops he wore, but to her delight his abs weren’t ridiculously hard. There was a soft quality to him, even though he was still ridiculously trim, and as she followed the strip of hair down to the waistband of his pants she couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face.

“Like something you see?” He quipped, and she looked back up at him, her fingers gently grazing his stomach, lingering there before moving down to the button on his jeans.

“Yup.” she said, popping the P loudly causing him to laugh before he smoothed her hair back softly, his mouth pressing back to hers again, as she worked the button on his jeans loose. As her nails gently scraped the sensitive span of his Adonis belt, he couldn’t help another groan and then his hands moved down between them and he worked his jeans down over his hips, almost sighing at the fact he was free from the restrictive denim. His fingers then flew to her jeans as her hands gently danced up his back, over the broad muscles of his shoulders before he slid down the bed, taking her jeans with him, before shucking his own completely off. He glanced down and saw her underwear was matching and with a teasing eyebrow he smirked at her.

“You planning for this?”

She shook her head, “hoping,” before her hand snaked round his neck, pulling him back down to her, his mouth hungrily claiming hers again as his hands trailed up the outside of her bare, soft thighs, to her hips, up the side of her body. She arched her back slightly, and he made quick work of the clasp on her bra, sliding it down her arms before he stole a glance down at her, the soft, supple lines of her breasts a complete contrast to her toned shoulders. She bit her lip shyly and as he looked back up at her, that long, auburn hair splayed across her pillow, and he knew there and then that he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as she was. He gently leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers before he kissed her softly, his lips tracing a track down her sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to her face to watch her reaction.  She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards and Frank moaned at the feel of her pressing up against him. She dragged her fingers up his spine, and her touch, her feel, her smell, the little noises of pleasure and cooing of his name all combined had him absolutely rock solid, aching for her, in a way he couldn’t ever remember aching for anyone before.

Her hips moved again and his hand trailed down, sliding into the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck.

“Good?” He asked as she gasped and it was all she could to do whimper softly, her head falling back further as her mouth fell open, her entire body shuddering softly. She reached down, grabbed his wrist and he looked at her, as her brown eyes locked on to his.

“Want you.” She whispered softly, and boy was he happy to oblige. He hopped off the bed, retrieving his wallet from his jeans pocket, pulling out the little foil square he always kept in there, just in case, and when he turned back he saw her led, her elbows propping her up slightly, hair falling over her shoulders. And holy shit, what a sight she was.

“Planning for this?” She raised an eyebrow, repeating his earlier words back to him and he laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back over to her.

“Hoping.” He replied softly, as she took it from him. His fingers hooked into the top of her panties, gently sliding them down before he rid himself of his boxers. Fliss tore the packet open and he groaned softly as her hands gently wrapped around his cock before she slid the condom down and that really shouldn’t been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. He moved over her again, his thighs gently parting hers a little further and with a steady motion he slid into her, the sensation caused both of them to groan, Fliss leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

"Liss, fuck.” Frank breathed out, his word little more than a whisper as moved his hands to snake his fingers through hers, gently pinning her hands by the side of her head as he began to gently move his hips. Slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as she keened underneath him. Their hips rubbed together with every thrust he made and with each rock into her, her moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get. 

Frank couldn’t get enough of her, every single one of his senses was on fire. His fingers tightened around hers as she gave a particularly long purr of delight, and he raised his head to capture her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. He released her hands, his own reaching up to cup her face as he continued to move, and her hands flew to his back, the tips of her nails digging into his skin causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“Frankie,” she murmured, and that damned pet name was like a fucking hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach.

“You feel so good.” he managed to stutter out, his voice noting but a whine, and at his praise she gave another long, low, sultry gasp, her breath now coming in ragged gasps.

“God, Lissy,” Frank moaned loudly as she titled her hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight his brewing orgasm, his abdomen was tightening in pleasure. “You close?” he gasped and she nodded softly, her lips falling open and once again he kissed her, hard, speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” She begged, her eyes closing, before they opened again to look at him “Please, so good.”

He felt her shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later her back arched and a soft cry escaped her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut, and her head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He felt her tightening, pulsing around him and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind her, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into her neck.

They lay still for a moment, before he regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to her lips before he pulled away slightly to find her looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks tinged with pink, and he smiled at the fact she was wearing that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” he asked softly and she nodded, a smile playing on her lips before she kissed him again.

“More than okay.” She grinned, her nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sailor.”

He let out a chuckle as he kissed her again, his lips hovering over hers. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself.”

She laughed and with final kiss he moved to pull out of her. With an apologetic look, as he really didn’t want to move, but, well, he had to, he disappeared into the bathroom and whilst he was gone Fliss smoothed her hair down and got comfortable in the bed. A minute later he returned and slid in besides her and she shuffled slightly to lay her head on his chest, her hand gently raking through the smattering of dark hair which spanned the upper part of her body, and he gave a contented sigh, kissing  the top of her head.

Right there and then Frank knew, and he had no idea how or why, but he just knew that if he never held another woman bar Fliss in his arms again in his life, he wouldn’t give a shit.

And what surprised him more, was that the thought of it being that way didn’t scare him in the slightest.

******

Fliss blinked, and reached over to turn her alarm off, stretching slightly before she glanced at Frank who was asleep on his stomach, his head turned towards her, hair all over the place. With a smile she ran a finger over his jaw before she sat up, and made to get out of bed.

“Where you going?” Frank’s voice was deep and thick with sleep as he reached out to grab her arm. He cracked an eye open and she looked at him, utterly confused.

“Don’t you want a coffee?”

There was a pause as he frowned, because honestly, the last thing on his mind was coffee, and then he watched as a pink flush spread across her cheeks and she looked down, her hand gently fiddling with the pale blue and yellow bed spread which was clutched around her torso. In that split second he realised, this was clearly something that again, that fucker had obviously expected her to do.

“How about,” he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist as he placed an arm round her waist, gently pulling her back down, “you just stay the fuck in bed…”

She smiled as he bent down to kiss her, his hands tangling in her hair, before she groaned and looked up at him “I gotta get to work.”

“How long?” he asked.

“I need to leave in like an hour.”

“Plenty of time.” he grinned, before he shifted so she was led fully under him, gently nipping at her jaw. And pretty soon coffee was the last thing on her mind as well.

Forty minutes later, Fliss was showered and headed back into her bedroom where Frank was pulling on his jeans. He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek before he headed into the bathroom himself, quipping that it had been a while since he borrowed a girl’s toothbrush. By the time he emerged, Fliss was pulling on one of her work Polo Shirts and Frank simply took the time to admire her as she bent over to pull a pair of britches out of her dresser, the shirt doing absolutely nothing to hide her pantie clad ass.

And then he saw the lines, little faded silver threads marring her skin and he felt himself grow hot at the sight of the scars.

Fliss tuned to face him and saw the flicker of anger in his eyes and she dropped her gaze. “That’s what I got for having some drunk guy grope me in a bar. Not a pretty sight is it?”

“Hey.” He said, a little sternly as he crossed the room. He tilted her face up to look at him and he locked his eyes onto hers. “Stop.”

She swallowed before he dropped a kiss to her lips and pulled her into a hug. She pressed her cheek to his chest and sighed.

“What if this drunk guy gropes you in a bar?” he asked, in an attempt to break the tension. She laughed and looked up at him.

“If this drunk guy makes me feel like I did last night and this morning, he can grope me whenever the hell he wants.”

Frank tipped his head back and laughed, before she moved back and smiled “You want breakfast?”

“I seem to have worked up an appetite so yeah, sounds good. I’ll be down in a second.” He nodded. 

She smiled at him, called Thor to her who had been lazing on the bed and left the room.

Once she was gone Frank let out a breath, anger still coursing through his veins. If he ever got the chance he’d beat that fucker black and blue. He pulled his T-shirt on, found his socks and then made his way down into the kitchen. Fliss was shoving bread into the toaster as he moved behind her for the mugs before asking her where the coffee was.

Just as she answered, the door to the annex opened and Bill shouted a hello into the house. Frank stiffened slightly, and glanced at Fliss, a little nervous if truth be told that her dad was about to discover he’d spent the night but Fliss simply shook her head at him and smiled.

“Hey Pops, you want coffee?”

“No it’s ok Titch.” Bill’s voice grew nearer. “Was just gonna tell you to leave the back gate unbolted on your side as the pool guy’s coming and he’ll do your tub.” He stopped in the kitchen and smiled, completely unsurprised. “Hey Frank.” “Hi Bill.” Frank nodded, hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt.

“No problem Dad, I’ll unlock it before I leave.” Fliss smiled. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No your mum wants to head into Tampa so we’ll be leaving soon.” He said, and then with a wry smile he chuckled. “If you don’t want the third degree I’d wait about fifiteen minutes before you both leave.”

Fliss shook her head with a laugh. “Take it she’s been down spying?”

“Oh yeah. Told me about half an hour ago Frank’s truck was here, and she doubted very much it was simply an early morning call.”

Frank felt his ears growing warm as he looked down at the floor before Fliss nudged him and nodded to the coffee. Thankful for the distraction, he set about pouring them both a mug as Fliss continued chatting to her Dad before Bill made his excuses.

“We’ll be back late tonight.” He said, as he turned to go. “Don’t know what time.”

“Yeah no problems.”

“Have a good day, kids.” He smiled and Frank nodded to him as he left.

“You’ve gone all shy Sailor.” Fliss teased and he groaned.

“Well it’s been a long time since I encountered parents on the morning after.” He shrugged as Fliss handed him a piece of toast. “In fact the last time it happened I was twenty-two…I think.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry.” She took a bite of her toast. “Dad isn’t the type to chase you down the drive with a pitch fork.” She swallowed her food and a wicked glint flashed in her eyes. “It’s his shot-gun you need to look out for.”

**** Chapter 11

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch 10- Hustle

Chapter Summary: It’s date time!!! Woohoo!! The slow burn has FINALLY burst into flames...

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: A special dedication to @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for reading over this because I wasn’t sure about some of it, and to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ because she was so pissed at us yesterday for the way we ended the latest CSI update, hope this scratches your itch…

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Chapter Song:  Better Together by Jack Johnson

Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist 

And there is no, no song I could sing, and there is no combination of words I could say, but I will still tell you one thing…we’re better together.

Fliss checked herself over again in the mirror and bit her lip. Frank had told her to dress casually, and bring a sweater as it could get a bit chili on the water at this time of year. She’d opted for a pair jeans with ripped knees, a sleeveless black top with white lace detailing in the shape of daisies and a pair of pink converse. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun and her make-up was heavier than she normally wore but not too obvious. That said, she still felt…

Actually what was it she felt?

“That’s what you’re wearing?” John looked her up and down as she emerged from the walk-in closet. Fliss felt her heart sink, she’d spent ages picking this outfit for the night out John had said they were going on.

“What, is it not…” she asked and trailed off.

“No, wear a dress, for fucks sake Felicity, we’re going to an up-scale restaurant, not a goddamned diner.” She shook her head, and grabbed her long black cardigan, Frank wasn’t John, and she wasn’t fucking Felicity.

She heard her mum calling and headed down the stairs to find her in the living room.

“Oh you look lovely!” Verity gushed and Fliss smiled.

“Thanks mum, you ok?” “Yeah, just came by to ask if you wanted us to take Thor for the night or…” there was a glint in her mother’s eye and Fliss gave a snort.

“I’m coming home.” she shook her head “This is a first date, what do you take me for?” “Well it’s been a while.” Verity said, nonchalantly and Fliss picked up a cushion off the sofa and threw it at her.

“You’re terrible.” she giggled.

Verity caught the cushion and tossed it back, smiling. “Ok, honestly, I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all.” “Big girl mum, sure I can handle a date. Besides, it’s Frank.” she shrugged.

“I know.” Verity shrugged, but before Fliss could say anything else she heard Frank’s truck pull up outside.

Fliss moved round her mum and opened the door, ushering her out.

“Ok, ok!” Verity held her hands up, calling Thor. He obediently trotted after her. “I’ll put him back in later.” “Thanks mum.” she smiled. She waved at Frank who had cut the engine and was just climbing out.

“Bill let me in.” he said by way of explanation as Fliss looked at him. “Hi V.” he nodded to the woman and she gave him a warm smile back.

“Hi Frank.” she said, turning back to Fliss, looking over her shoulder as she walked “Have fun kids, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.” “That leaves a lot…” Fliss said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as her mum laughed and disappeared up the drive to the main house. She turned to look at Frank who smiled at her as he walked round the back of the truck. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, dark blue sneakers and a light blue button down.

“You look great.” he smiled at her and she flushed a little.

“Don’t look too bad yourself, Sailor.” she said, and he grinned, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he followed her into the house “Although I was kinda hoping you’d wear one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts.”

“You literally just called them hideous.” he rolled his eyes “Hideous and endearing.” she quipped, grabbing her purse before she retrieved her cardigan from where she had tossed it onto the sofa.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

With a smile he offered her his hand and she took it, and allowed him to lead her to the truck.

******

Frank parked his truck outside his house and led Fliss down the path towards the docks. They chatted comfortably as he made his way to the boat he’d borrowed for the evening and before long he’d fired it up and was steering them out of the docks and into the bay. Fliss sat down on one of the benches, her legs resting on the wooden step in front of her, sunglasses covering her eyes as she glanced out over the water, the wind gently catching the loose strands of her hair and her sweeping bangs. Frank glanced at her every so often, simply drinking her in.

Eventually he picked up the speed ever so slightly and then called to Fliss, nodding to a cool box on the side that Dave, the owner, had left for him when he’d told him why he wanted to borrow it. He liked Dave, often swung a fair bit of work his way and he was a good man, always tipped Frank well.

Fliss retrieved two bottles and flipped the tops off before handing him one.

“Are you allowed to drink and be in charge of a boat?” she asked.

He shrugged “Never been stopped yet.” She smiled and took a drink, moving to stand besides him.

“Can I have a drive?" Fliss looked at him

"Thought you sailed a boat?" Frank said, teasingly as he took a mouthful of Bud.

"You're a dick Adler" Fliss deadpanned back.

Frank laughed "Whatever, and no you can’t."

"Why?" she pouted.

"Because I don’t fancy having to call Mary from Puerto Rico"

"Hmmm." Fliss pondered, swallowing her beer "are we even on the open ocean yet?"

"No"

"Well how the fuck would we end up in Puerta Rico?" She laughed "And, according to that compass..." she pointed to the dial in front of them on the cockpit of the boat "we're heading South West so we would hit Havana or Cancun first anyway....that is once we've actually made it out of the bay of course..."

"You know it's no wonder you and Mary get on so well..." he shook his head "both smart asses..."

She chuckled as she stood besides him and they made their way at a reasonable pace across the water, Frank keeping his eyes peeled for what he was hoping to find, and after 5 minutes or so he spotted the tell-tale ripples on the surface of the bay and grinned. He changed course slightly, heading towards his target and was just about to finally tell Fliss what he was heading towards when one of the dolphins broke surface. It was a small leap but Fliss gripped his arm and gave an excited gasp. "Is that...are they dolphins?" "Yup." he grinned at her. She looked at him in amazement and he smiled as they sped forward towards them, watching as another leapt out of the water, this time far higher as they continued to follow the pod, Fliss making her way to the stern for a closer look. To Frank they were a common sight but for Fliss, who had never seen them in the wild so close it was amazing, and the smile never faded from her face for the entire time. She glanced back at him every so often, beaming, and it made his chest flutter every goddamned time she did. Eventually after about 20 minutes or so the pod dived and then emerged a little way ahead of them and Frank slowed down a touch, allowing them to pull away. "Wow..." Fliss breathed as she made her way back towards him and Frank took her empty bottle and  tossed it into the bag along with his own  "Frankie...that was..." she sighed unable to express what she was feeling. Frank chuckled softly watching her before he reached for her arm, gently pulling her in front of him as he stepped back. "Take the wheel." He said softly into her ear "Fuck, what?" She stiffened slightly

"You wanted a go."

"I was only joking...I can't direct this thing!"

He laughed "Come on its easy, I'll show you look..." he moved closer to her, his chest brushing her back as his hands gently fell over hers on the wheel. He steered with her for a moment before he gradually let go and his fingers softly traced up her arms. Fliss felt the goosebumps spring forth at his touch and at the same time Frank noticed her breathing changing slightly and he suddenly worried he had overstepped the mark. But as his hands stopped at her elbows she turned her head slightly, her face inches from his as she looked up at him over her shoulder. Her eyes bounced across his own and he took the initiative and leaned down pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss which, although fleeting, sent shivers down his spine. They both pulled back for a second or two before their lips were back together, this time the kiss was a little stronger and Frank's right hand felt for the key in the ignition of the boat and he turned it cutting the engine. Fliss chuckled against his lips as she turned round to face him. "Just out of interest, what happens if the boat doesn't start again?" She asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head so she could see his eyes. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Are you doubting my handy-work Cowgirl" "Wouldn't dream of it Sailor." she murmured as he closed the distance between them, his hands falling to her hips before he kissed her again. Frank already knew he was an utter gonner for this woman and the feeling of her mouth on his and her body pressed against him simply solidified that fact. It was as if this was what he had been holding out for, like it was just meant to be. Her arms snaked round his neck, and when one of her hands fisted gently in his hair he gripped her hips ever so slightly tighter and his tongue skated along her bottom lip, seeking permission. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and he took the lead, his hands sliding round to her back pulling her closer. It was passionate, deep, the two totally wrapped up in one another, no regard for the fact they were on a boat, merely drifting across the bay. It was only when a loud cheer hit their ears that they broke apart and both turned their heads to see a larger boat floating last with a group of 4 men passing, all raising beer bottles at them in a toast, shouting and hollering various cat calls. "Friends of yours?" Fliss asked, Frank's hands gently rubbing at the base of her spine. "I have absolutely no idea who they are" he said with a chuckle as the boat full of guys headed off past them into the setting sun.

The moment broken, Frank gently moved round Fliss and started the boat back up, grabbed another two beers whilst she shrugged on her cardigan before he stood back and let Fliss pilot it for a little longer, using the excuse of straightening up their direction to touch her in some form or way as often as he could, until the light was getting dim and he reluctantly suggested they should probably be getting back. Fliss moved to let him take the wheel and, to his delight, as he moved to steer them back he felt her hands link round his waist and her cheek press into his back. They stayed like that until she needed to move so he could direct the boat back into its allocated spot before bringing it to a stop.

He stepped off the boat, gave directions to Fliss as she remained on the deck and the 2 of them ensured it was moored properly. Frank hopped back on board, made sure everything was locked down and then stepped onto the jetty again, offering his hand to Fliss. She took it and stepped onto the wooden platform besides him and he smiled as she adjusted her hold so her fingers were laced between his. They walked in silence back towards the main area of the harbour, the lights twinkling on the water as they walked down the wooden planks. "So Mary's staying at Roberta's..." Frank broke the silence. "What do you say we take this date to Ferg's?" "You wanna take me to Ferg's on our first date?" She asked, her hands sliding up over his chest to his shoulders and he bit back the moan that had arisen in his throat at her touch. "How romantic..." "Come on cut me some slack" he chuckled as his hands fell to her hips again "I took you out chasing dolphins in the sunset!." "Hmmm, well, I suppose when you put it like that..." she grinned, reaching up to close the distance between them once more in a soft, sweet kiss "I'm just kidding sailor, I kinda like Ferg’s...it has character." "One way of describing it." He chuckled as he places and arm round her shoulder. “You alright to walk, it’s only 10 minutes?” “Walking’s good.” she said, leaning into him. ***** "He Joe, can I get an 8 bucket..." Frank looked at the bar tender, hanging him a twenty "And can you make sure there's change for the pool table?" "No worries..."

Fliss came back from the restroom and he smiled at her, and then suddenly cursed himself.

“I ordered beer.” he looked at her “Is that ok or did you want something else?” “No, beers great.” she beamed at him, “But thank you for asking.”

Frank didn’t press the fact that she didn’t need to be so grateful at common courtesy, he figured that was another hang up from her asshole ex and he had no intentions of bringing that fucker up in any way, shape or form tonight.

Joe set the bucket down, handed Frank his change and Frank tipped him before he handed Fliss a beer and picked the bucket up with one hand, gently steering her away from the bar, towards the pool table at the back with his other, fingers gently splaying at the lower part of her back. He set the beer bucket down on a table to the right and then fished in his pocket for some change. “Wanna make this more interesting?” He asked as he slid the coins into the shot.

“I'm not playing strip pool, not in the middle of a bar anyway.” Fliss shook her head, taking a mouthful from her bottle.

“So you would in private?” he asked, grinning as the balls rolled down and he bent down to retrieve them and started to place them on the table.

She smirked

“Ok...filing that for future reference.” he said, pointing his bottle at her as he straightened up.

“You don’t have a pool table.”

“I’ll get one.” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh “but no, I was talking about a wager.

She groaned “I'm really shit at pool...”

“Ok, we’ll do best outta 3...and I'll even give you a 3 ball head start on the first” he coaxed.

“What's the bet?” she narrowed her eyes.

“Loser buys the shots?”

"You know it’s probably easier if I just go buy em now."

“Ah, c’mon…” he said, his Boston drawl slipping out slightly stronger than normal “Don’t be a baby.”

“Fine…” she said, with a heavy sigh. “But I’m buying Tequila. I can’t stand Sambucca and straight vodka makes me want to hurl”

“Whatever you say sweetheart.” It turns out Fliss wasn’t exaggerating. On their first game she really was terrible. Frank laughed as she pouted at him and told him he was mean as he pulled another 2 beers from the bucket, handing her one, before racking the balls up again.

“Come ‘ere…” he said, chalking his cue “You can break.” She rolled her eyes as he positioned the white ball on the spot. She took her cue and bent over the table.

“Ok, move your hand…” he said, reaching over and repositioning her hold. “More accuracy…but you need to put some power behind it to break…” he moved her right elbow back and guided her arm through the shot and it broke the pack with a satisfying clack, sending a striped into the top pocket.

“Guess I’m stripes…” she said, standing up, her back brushing against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her cheek and moved so she could take the next shot. The game continued along this vein, Frank helping her, showing her where to aim so she hit the balls in the right spot, continually correcting her elbows and guiding her hands so that she didn’t hit anything too hard. There was an intimate quality to it too, being pressed behind or over her and at one point he certainly had a twitch in the groin area and he had to back away, leaving her to it. After he deliberately fouled up on the final shot, Fliss ended up winning and she stood straight and looked at him.

“You did that on purpose.” she accused.

He shrugged, grinning. “Makes it interesting for the final. Tie break.”

“Can I break again?” she asked as he racked the balls up.

He nodded, strictly speaking it was his turn but, well, like it mattered. He was going to win anyway. Fliss broke and potted a solid this time. And then proceeded to pot shot after shot. Frank’s mouth fell open as she proceeded to her next ball, then the next. She looked up at him, smirking as she nominated the pocket just in front of him and then sank her last ball without him even getting a single turn. He could do nothing but stare at her for a moment before he snapped his mouth shut. "You just 8 balled me." he looked at her. She shrugged "Wait...did I just get hustled?" he asked, realisation washing over him. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a grin and he groaned as he shook his head.  “Fuck me.”

“Think you owe me some shots.” She teased, pulling the last 2 bottles of beer from the bucket and handing him one.

“Where did you learn to play pool like that?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Well when I was competing I was on the road a lot with the team.”  she smiled. “We socialised in the evenings, guess I just picked it up. That’s also where I learned how to hustle.”

“I don’t know if I should be pissed off or impressed.” he teased, picking up the bucket which was loaded with their empties as they made their way back to the bar.

Or turned on…

“Can’t you be both?” she looked at him and he laughed.

“Tequila was it?”

3 shots each later they were both definitely feeling the buzz and at that point Fliss insisted she needed to switch to water, explaining she was still up early in the morning for lessons, reminding him that Mary had one at 2.

“So I get to see you tomorrow as well?” he smiled and she grinned, crunching an ice cube in her mouth.

“Must be your lucky weekend.” she smirked.

“Clearly.”

The soft flirting continued for another half an hour before Fliss reluctantly groaned and said she needed to get home. Frank didn’t want the evening to end but he got it, it was past midnight and she was up at 7.

As he walked her out to her cab, she declined the offer of him riding with her and smiled, turning to face him.

“I had a really great night.” she said, shyly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her hear. “Thank you.” “Me too.” he said, honestly. He smiled at her, before he moved towards her, his arm circling her waist before he dipped his head to catch her lips in a soft kiss.

“See you tomorrow.” she smiled, her head resting against his before he smiled again and opened the door for her.

“Yeah, you will.”

**** Fliss groaned as her alarm went off, blinking and grimacing at the light. Her head was fuzzy, that tequila really hadn’t been a great idea. Then the memory of the rest of the date came back and she smiled to herself, laying her head back on the pillow. Allowing herself 5 minutes of dozing and basking in the memory and warm feeling she had, she eventually knew she had to get up and headed for the shower.

Thankfully she was up too early to encounter her mother, who she knew would want the gossip. She had half been expecting her to be waiting when she got back but suspected that her dad had probably forbidden her from doing so. After a coffee and some headache tablets she felt ready to face the day and grabbing a bottle of water she headed out to her jeep. Just as she climbed in her mobile went and she opened the message to see a picture of Mary, sat on the sofa with Fred draped on her knee, munching a piece of toast.

6.30 am on a fuckin’ Saturday. Apparently, she’s excited to see Monty. read the caption So much for a lie in x

Chuckling to herself she sent a response back, informing him that until he had been up at 4 am on a Sunday to travel 3 hours to a show he had no room to complain, before she selected one of her playlists and drove up to the yard.

Fliss hardly had time to think about anything once she arrived. She opened up, checked her diary, indulged in a little bit more text flirting to and fro with Frank before her 9 am class arrived and then it was none stop until lunch. Joanne was gently drilling her for information on her date but she was giving nothing away, other than the fact she’d enjoyed herself, before she threatened to sack the woman if she didn’t stop asking. Joanne merely smirked knowingly and shrugged before she changed the subject.

It was about half 1 when Frank and Mary pulled up on the car park. Fliss was digging in the trunk of her car for some treats for Thor when Mary barrelled straight for her.

“Hi!” Fliss grinned, giving her a hug.

“Hi” Mary beamed back “Did you like the Dolphins? Frank said you saw a few last night in the bay!”

“Sure did.” Fliss nodded. “Definitely need so see them again some time.”

Fliss glanced up at Frank as he leaned against his truck, keys in his hand. “Hey.” he gave her a soft smile and Fliss and she beamed back, suddenly a little shy, for what reason she had no idea. He looked good though, faded jeans and a white polo shirt with a red collar and horizontal stripe running across his chest.

“Hi.” she smiled at him as Mary headed off to the main part of the yard “So she had you up early?”

“She’s been dressed and ready since 11.” he groaned falling into step besides her as they followed Mary who turned left to head into Mony’s barn “Kept badgering me to bring her earlier.” “You should have done.” Fliss shrugged as she walked through the door to her office, Frank taking the opportunity to eye up her ass in those damned fine riding breeches before he hastily averted his gaze as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’ve told you, I’m not averse to child labour.” Frank followed her into the tack room, and she gave a small yelp of surprise as his hands fell to her hips and he spun her round.

“C’mere…” he said softly, pulling her to him, his lips meeting hers. She eagerly kissed him back as his right hand slid up to cup her cheek, and then the door to the tack room flew open and they both jumped slightly, Frank turning round to see Mary and Joanne stood there. Joanne looked at Fliss, smirking slightly and Mary paused for a moment before she put her hands on her hips and eyed Frank.

“About damned time…” she said, with a very Roberta-esque air.

Frank groaned as Fliss giggled, her cheeks burning slightly before Mary looked at her, then to Frank before she grinned and shook her head.

“Roberta’s gonna love this…” **** “Oh come on!” Frank groaned as Fliss scored another strike, turning to hi-five Mary. “This is nothing but a fix up.” “Oh quit your fuss.” Fliss teased “Not my fault you decided you could take us both on. Did you not learn anything from Friday night?”

“Yeah, not to trust innocent little British girls who claim they’re crap at something.” he said, his hands on his hips.

“Who said anything about being innocent?” she said, winking at him and damned if that didn’t stir something in his belly. Shaking his head, and glad it was his turn, he moved to pick up a bowling ball making his way to the aisle. He took aim, swung his arm and then staggered back as Mary was swinging off his arm, cackling.

“Ok, now this is sabotage…” he said, raising his arm slightly before his other moved to tickle at her waist. She let go hastily, dropping onto her feet, her laughter loud as she moved backwards. “Did you tell her to do that?” he looked at Fliss.

“Hey you brought her up, don’t blame me.” Fliss smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes, taking his shot.

They had another few games as on Wednesday it was half price before they left, Frank in a pretend sulk after he had basically had his ass handed to him for the second time that week by Fliss and they drove a few minutes down the road to the Ice Cream parlour.

As they sat enjoying their treats, their talk turned to Thanksgiving which was the following week and Fliss asked them both what they were doing.

“We went to Roberta’s last year but this time it’s her year for going to her sisters” Mary said.

“They alternate.” Frank explains. “Every other year her sister comes here and we join them, and then the others she goes there so…” “Which means this year…” Mary grinned at Frank “I get to pick dinner. And I want Chicken nuggets!”

“Woah, hang on…” Fliss said in a horrified voice “Chicken nuggets on thanksgiving…you can’t do that!”

“Sure we can!” Frank scoffed “It’s thanksgiving, we can eat whatever we want ain’t that right Stack?”

Mary nodded gleefully “ Yup, we always have fun!” she said, shovelling more ice cream into her mouth “We watch the parade, have candy for breakfast, and always remember we have stuff to be thankful for, right Frank?”

“Even more so this year.” he smiled and Fliss grinned back. “So, what do you do?”

“Oh, we don’t do the sit down dinner, it’s not a British thing.” Fliss said, “I’ll be doing the horses that day to let everyone have the time off and then Mum and Dad throw a party in the evenings for their friends who all come round.” she looked at him. “I’m assuming you 2 are gonna join us this year?

“Is that an invite?” Frank asked, his hand falling to her knee under the table.

“Dur.” she smiled at him. “Besides, my mum would cry if you didn’t show up…think she prefers you to me now.”

They stayed where they were, ordering more ice cream just because, well, for no reason other than they could, before they headed back to drop Fliss home and Frank told Mary to wait in the truck.

“You gonna kiss again?” she asked and Fliss let out a laugh whilst Frank simply shook his head as he climbed out.

“Can I take you out again on Friday?” he asked as she opened the door.

“I’ll have to check my really busy social calendar.” she said, pausing “Nope, I’m free.”

“Good, I was talking to Greg before and he told me about a really nice bistro in town…so I thought…” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “Can we not just grab some food and go and sit by the sea?”

God I fucking love you…

Frank nodded “well yeah but…I thought…” “Look, fancy dinners are great every now and then but…” she sighed “It’s all he-who-shall-not-be-named ever did.”

“He-who-shall-not-be-named?” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, kind of reduces him to an evil, fictional twat, it suits him.” Fliss shrugged “Anyway, he persistently took me to the most expensive places, paraded me around like some kind of fucking trophy, putting on this illusion that he was this great guy and…” she shrugged “I had so much fun last Friday and tonight…I just…” she trailed off and groaned, wrinkling her face up, her hand pinching the bridge of her nose before she looked at him apologetically “Sorry, that sounds really ungrateful…” Frank stepped forward and cut her off with a soft kiss “No, it doesn’t.” he assured her with a smile. “And as it happens, I know just the place we can go.”

*****

“Oh my god!” Fliss grinned, eyeing up the Mexican street food wagon by the beach in St Paul’s which was lit up by dozens of rows of fairy lights. “This is perfect!”

“Well I figured seeing as last week we didn’t go to Mexico, I’d bring Mexico to you.”  Frank grinned, inwardly purring at the fact she was so pleased.

“What’s good?” she asked.

“Honestly, all of it.” Frank smiled “But the pork and chicken burrito is my favourite. Oh, and the nachos…”

“Ok, I’ll go with that.” she smiled, as they joined the queue. It wasn’t long before they reached the front and Frank placed their order, pulling out his wallet. Fliss caught his hand.

“Let me.” “No.” he shook his head.

“Please Frank.” she looked at him. “You paid on Friday and Wednesday…”

He looked at her, ready to argue but there was something in her eyes. And he found himself wondering again if this was some kind of independence thing, one she hadn’t been allowed before.

“Alright.” he shrugged “But I’m buying the drinks later.” “Deal.” she smiled, handing over the cash.

They took their food and sat down at one of the plastic tables, which was illuminated by a small candle in a jar. Fliss enthusiastically picked up her food from the basket, digging in and nodding in appreciation.

“This is so good…” she said with a mouthful, and Frank laughed as she nearly dropped half of it down the front of her pink top “Shit.”

“How did you miss?” he asked and she flicked him the finger as she continued to eat, chatting about their day.

“Greg called.” he said, and she looked at him “He’s got a date for the court hearing.” “Oh?”

“12th of December.” Frank said, leaning back. As he did so his right leg stretched forward and brushed against her left, which she gently moved closer so that their ankles were almost tangled together.

“That’s good.” she smiled “So by Christmas…it’ll all be done.” “Yup.” he nodded, with a sigh “I’ll be glad with it’s finally closed.” “Have you heard anything from Evelyn?”

He shook his head “I’m not dismissing her just yet. I have a feeling she’s gonna apply for access but if she does then that’s up to Mary. It’ll be on her terms, nothing more.”

Fliss nodded and then leaned back, her food now gone.

“Wanna grab a few beers and go sit on the beach?” Frank asked.

She grinned and he stood up, offering her his hand and he led her over to the truck. A couple of minutes late, both clutching a Desperado they headed down the lamp lit steps and onto the soft shore, making their way over to a bout of flat rocks which lay against the shore wall. Frank sat on one and Fliss perched next to him, gently leaning her head against his shoulder as he dropped a kiss to her head, dropping his arm round her.

They sat in a comfortable silence, watching as the moonlight bounced off the calm sea, the sounds of the gentle waves was all they could hear.

“You ok?” Frank broke the silence, pulling her closer as she shivered slightly “Cold?”

“I shouldn’t be” she chuckled “It’s still like tropical compared to Boston.” “Yeah but you get acclimatised.” he smiled.

“Do you ever miss it?” Fliss asked “You know, the seasons, big city living?”

“Sometimes.” he said “But then I remembered why I moved and…”

“I know that feeling.” Fliss mumbled “But, I still wish we got snow at Christmas.”

“Mary’s never seen snow.” Frank said.

“We should go back sometime.” Fliss said “I mean maybe not to Boston but New York perhaps. I always wanted to go in December time but I never got round to it.”

“Any particular reason or…” Frank asked, with a feeling he already knew the answer.

She looked at him “What do you think?”

She shook his head “I know I’ve said this before but I really would love to get sometime in a room with him, one on one….” Fliss laughed “Yeah, you’ll be behind my Dad and Steve in the queue I’m afraid.” Frank snorted and then turned to look at her “Ok, then next year we’ll do it. We’ll go to New York. In the winter.” “Already making plans with me for next year huh Sailor?” she teased, and he shrugged and looked down at his feet for a moment before he looked back at her.

“Yeah.” he said simply “Yeah, I am.” Fliss smiled and bit her lip slightly, the significance of what he was saying didn’t pass her by. He wanted this to work, he wanted this to be something more, but then she knew that already. She’d known for weeks that there was something deeper there. “Well, I can run with that.” she said, smiling “Only if we can have a snowball fight, I can kick your ass at that too.” He tilted his head to look at her and snorted “You’re a little aggressive on the sly, aint you?” “Frankie, I competed for a living, you got no idea.” she grinned at him.

Frank shifted slightly, finger tilting her chin up before he pressed his lips to hers, his fingers gently caressing her neck as the kiss deepened. A soft moan escaped her mouth and fuck, that noise went straight to his groin. Things were quickly getting heated as her hand slid into his hair, keeping his lips pressed to hers, his tongue dominating hers before he eventually pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. She let out a soft sigh, as he tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling at her.

“Carry on like that and I’m not gonna be able to stop.” he said to her, and she smirked back slightly, her eyes locked onto his.

“Did I say I wanted you to?”

Oh.Jesus.Christ.

He looked at her before she smiled and stood up, offering him her hand this time. Without a word he took it, and they walked back the way they had come little more than an hour earlier.

***** How Frank drove back to hers without crashing he had no idea, his mind was as far from being on the road as it should be, but he had, and here they were, stumbling into her bed room, heated kisses being shared as he kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on hers. Her fingers were now on the hem of his grey T-shirt and she gave it a tug, and he moved so she could pull it up over his head, tossing it to the floor somewhere and her hands moved up his sides and over his shoulders, nails scratching at the back of his neck, causing him to groan softly into her mouth as his hands gently slid under her top at the back, his touch sending shivers up her spine. His lips moved from her mouth across her jaw line, and then down her neck and she tipped her head back, giving him more access, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gently scratching of his beard on her skin.

Taking the lead, Frank backed her towards the bed as his hands strayed to the bottom of her top. She nodded eagerly and in a flash he pulled it over her head, before his hands gently smoothed back her hair that had flown over her face before he stole a glance at her and groaned at the soft pink lace trimmed bra that she was wearing. As the back of her knees hit her bed, he gently lowered her down, positioning himself over her, caging her with his arms and his legs as his mouth continually trailing soft kisses down her neck and her jawline, the soft noises she was making were turning him even more and he moved back to claim her mouth in another searing kiss. She pulled away from him this time and he watched as her eyes followed her hands downwards.

Frank was toned, Fliss could see that. His shoulders and arms were ridiculously defined on account of his physical job, and she had always been able to see that with the t-shirts and tops he wore, but to her delight his abs weren’t ridiculously hard. There was a soft quality to him, even though he was still ridiculously trim, and as she followed the strip of hair down to the waistband of his pants she couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face.

“Like something you see?” he quipped, and she looked back up at him, her fingers gently grazing his stomach, lingering there before moving down to the button on his jeans.

“Yup.” she said, popping the P loudly causing him to laugh before he smoothed her hair back softly, his mouth pressing back to hers again, as she worked the button on his jeans loose. As her nails gently scraped his sensitive skin he couldn’t help another groan and then his hands moved down between them and he worked his jeans down over his hips, almost sighing at the fact he was free from the restrictive denim. His fingers then flew to her jeans as her hands gently danced up his back, over the broad muscles of his shoulders before he gently slid down the bed, taking her jeans with her, before shucking his own off. He glanced down and saw her underwear was matching and with a teasing eyebrow he smirked at her.

“You planning for this?”

She shook her head, “Hoping.” before her hand snaked round his neck, pulling him back down to her, his mouth hungrily claiming hers again as his hands trailed up the outside of her bare, soft thighs, to her hips, up the side of her body. She arched her back slightly, and he made quick work of the clasp on her bra, sliding it down her arms before he stole a glance down at her, the soft, supple lines of her breasts a complete contrast to her toned shoulders. She bit her lip shyly and as he looked back up at her, that long, auburn hair splayed across her pillow, he knew then that he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as she was. He gently leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers before he kissed her softly, his lips tracing a track down her sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards and Frank moaned at the feel of her pressing up against him. She dragged her fingers up his spine, and her touch, her feel, her smell, the little noises of pleasure and cooing of his name all combined had him absolutely rock solid, aching for her, in a way he couldn’t ever remember aching for anyone before.

Her hips moved again and his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of her panties making her gasp as his fingers worked her. Her hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck.

“Good?” he asked as she gasped and it was all she could to do wimper softly, her head falling back further as her mouth fell open, her entire body shuddering softly. She reached down, grabbed his wrist and he looked at her, as her brown eyes locked on to his.

“Need you…” she whispered softly, and boy was he happy to oblige. He hopped off the bed, retrieving his wallet from his jeans pocket, pulling out the little foil square he always kept in there, just in case and when he turned back he saw her led, her elbows propping her up slightly, hair falling over her shoulders. And holy shit, what a sight she was.

“Planning for this?” she raised an eyebrow, repeating his earlier words back to him and he laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back over to her.

“Hoping…” he replied softly, as she took it from him. His fingers hooked into the top of her panties, gently sliding them down before he rid himself of his boxers. Fliss tore the packet open and he groaned softly as her hands gently wrapped around his cock before she slid the condom down and that really shouldn’t been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. He moved over her again, his thighs gently parting hers a little further and with a steady motion he slid into her, the sensation caused both of them to groan, Fliss leaning back against the pillows as he stretched her, his girth and length filling her completely.

"Liss, fuck…” Frank breathed out, his word little more than a whisper as moved his hands to snake his fingers through hers, gently pinning them by the side of her head as he began to gently move his hips. Slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as she keened underneath him, their hips rubbing together with every thrust he made and with each rock into her, her moans of delight and pure pleasure filled his ear as his head rest in the crook of her neck, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get.  He couldn’t get enough of her, every single one of his senses was on fire. His fingers tightened around hers as she gave a particularly long purr of delight, and he raised his head to capture her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. He released her hands, his own reaching up to cup her face as he continued to move, and her hands flew to his back, the tips of her nails digging into his skin causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“Frankie…” she murmured, and that damned pet name was like a fucking hot wire to his groin and he felt the tell-tale heat striking across his lower stomach.

“Feel so good…” he murmured, his breath coming in ragged gasps “God, Lissy…”

He moaned loudly as she titled her hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly as he struggled to fight it.

“You close…” he gasped and she nodded softly, her lips falling open and once again he kissed her, hard, speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop…” she begged, her eyes closing, before the opened again to look at him “Please…so good…”

He felt her preen underneath him and a few thrusts later her back arched and a soft cry escaped her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut once more, and her head tilted back. He felt her tightening, pulsing around him and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind her, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen before he collapsed forward, his head burying into her neck.

They lay still for a moment, before he regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to her lips before he pulled away slightly to find her looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks tinged with pink, and he smiled at the fact she was wearing that just fucked look so damned well.

“Ok?” he asked softly and she nodded, a smile playing on her lips before she kissed him again and he moved to roll off her. He disappeared into the bathroom and whilst he was gone Fliss smoothed her hair down and got comfortable in the bed before he returned and slid in besides her. She shuffled slightly, to lay her head on his chest, her hands gently tangling in his dark hair, and he gave a contented sigh and kissed the top of her head.

Right there and then Frank knew, and he had no idea how or why, but he knew that if he never held another woman bar Fliss in his arms again in his life, he wouldn’t give a shit.

And what surprised him more was that the thought of it being that way didn’t scare him in the slightest.

******

Fliss blinked, and reached over to turn her alarm off, stretching slightly before she glanced at Frank who was asleep on his stomach, his head turned towards her, hair all over the place. With a smile she ran a finger over his jaw before she sat up, and made to get out of bed.

“Where you going?” Frank’s voice was deep and thick with sleep as he reached out to grab her arm. He cracked an eye open and she looked at him, utterly confused.

“Don’t you want a coffee?”

There was a pause as he frowned, because honestly, the last thing on his mind was a coffee, and then he watched as a pink flush spread across her cheeks and she looked down, her hand gently fiddling with the pale blue and yellow bed spread which was clutched around her torso. In that split second he realised, this was clearly something that again, that fucker had obviously expected her to do.

“How about…” he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist as he placed an arm round her waist, gently pulling her back down “…you just stay the fuck in bed…”

She smiled as bend down to kiss her, his hands tangling in her hair, before she groaned and looked up at him “I gotta get to work.” “How long?” he asked.

“I need to leave in like an hour.” “Plenty of time…” he said again, before he shifted so she was led fully under him, gently nipping at her jaw. And pretty soon coffee was the last thing on her mind as well.

40 minutes later Fliss was showered and headed back into her bedroom where Frank was pulling on his jeans. He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek before he headed into the bathroom himself, quipping that it had been a while since he borrowed a girl’s toothbrush. By the time he emerged, Fliss was pulling on one of her work Polo Shirts and Frank simply took the time to admire her as she bent over to pull a pair of britches out of her dresser, the shirt doing absolutely nothing to hide her ass.

And then he saw the lines, little faded silver lines and he felt himself grow hot at the sight of the scars.

Fliss tuned to face him and saw the flicker of anger in his eyes and she dropped her gaze. “That’s what I got for having some drunk guy grope me in a bar. Not a pretty sight is it?” “Hey…” he said, a little sternly as he crossed the room. Tilting her face up to look at him he locked his eyes onto her. “Stop.”

She swallowed before he dropped a kiss to her lips and pulled her into a hug. She pressed her cheek to his chest and sighed.

“What if this drunk guy gropes you in a bar?” he said, in an attempt to break the tension. She laughed and looked up at him.

“If this drunk guy makes me feel like I did last night and this morning, he can grope me whenever the hell he wants.”

Frank tipped his head back and laughed, before she moved back. “Breakfast?” “I seem to have worked up an appetite so yeah, sounds good. I’ll be down in a second.” She smiled at him, called Thor to her who had been lazing on the bed and left the room.

Once she was gone Frank let out a breath, his anger still coursing through his veins. If he ever got the chance he’d beat that fucker black and blue. He pulled his T-shirt on, found his socks and then made his way into the kitchen. Fliss was shoving bread into the toaster as he moved behind her for the mugs before asking her where the coffee was.

Just as she answered the door to the annex opened and Bill shouted a hello into the house. Frank stiffened slightly, and glanced at Fliss, a little nervous if truth be told that her dad was about to discover he’d spent the night but Fliss simply shook her head at him and smiled.

“Hey dad, you want coffee?” “No it’s ok Titch.” his voice grew nearer “Was just gonna tell you to leave the back gate unbolted on your side as the pool guy’s coming and he’ll do your tub.” he stopped in the kitchen and smiled, completely unsurprised “Hey Frank.” “Hi Bill.” Frank nodded, hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt.

“No problem Dad, I’ll unlock it before I leave.” she smiled “sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No your mum wants to head into Tampa so we’ll be leaving soon.” he said, and then with a wry smile he chuckled “If you don’t want the third degree I’d wait about 15 minutes before you both leave.” Fliss shook her head with a laugh. “Take it she’s been down spying?”

“Oh yeah. Told me about half an hour ago Frank’s truck was here, and she doubted very much it was simply an early morning call…”

Frank felt his ears growing warm as he looked down at the floor before Fliss nudged him and nodded to the coffee. Thankful for the distraction he set about pouring them both a mug as Fliss continued chatting to her dad before Bill made his excuses.

“We’ll be back late tonight.” he said, as he turned to go “Don’t know what time.”

“Yeah no problems.”

“Have a good day kids.” he smiled and Frank nodded to him as he left.

“You’ve gone all shy Sailor.” she teased and he groaned.

“Well it’s been a long time since I encountered parents on the morning after.” he shrugged as Fliss handed him a piece of toast. “In fact the last time it happened I was 22…I think.” “I wouldn’t worry.” Fliss said “Dad ain’t the type to chase you down the drive with a pitch fork…” she looked at him and grinned cheekily “…it’s his shotgun you need to worry about.”

@the-omni-princess​​  @momobaby227​​ @geekofmanythings16​​ @angelofhell-666​​ @thewackywriter​​ @marvelfansworld​​​  @cobalt-gear​​  @asgardlover75​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​  @jtargaryen18​​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​​  @navispalace​​​ @patzammit​​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​​ ​​ @djeniiscorner​​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​​  @disneylovingal​​​ @madzmilllz​​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​ @southerngracela​ @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @pagesoflauren​

[lothiriel84]

Fairytale

I'm in love with a fairytale Even though it hurts 'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed

A Cabin Pressure ficlet. Arospec!Douglas, pre- to post-canon. Inspired by this post. 

For a long time after Helena, he makes no real attempt at dating. Sure, he does go in for the occasional, mutually satisfactory one-night stand; he may be world-weary and cynical, but he’s not dead yet, if you catch his drift. And yes, deep down under his carefully constructed Sky God persona, he’s only too painfully aware that he’s getting on a bit, and he would do better to start looking for a new potential long-term partner sooner rather than later; he just feels like he could use a bit of space, after going through the motions of yet another messy divorce.

To be perfectly honest – which he rarely is, even in the privacy of his own mind – his marriage to Helena had been withering away long before the Tai Chi teacher even entered the picture. Like clockwork, all of Douglas’s relationships invariably reach a stage where he can’t seem to meet his partner’s emotional needs, no matter how hard he tries. After that, it’s only a matter of time before the relationship itself starts to sink to its untimely end; even now, with three failed marriages under his belt, he doesn’t feel remotely closer to figuring out how to stop it from happening.

Always one for grand gestures, he can’t seem to get to grips with the fabled happily ever after, so to speak. Sweeping the woman of his dreams off her feet is easy, always has been; keeping up with the daily grind of playing the part of the loving husband, not so much. And for all that he’d very much rather not unscrew the cap on that particular period of his life, he’s still plagued by the niggling doubt that it wasn’t so much his drinking problem that caused the dissolution of his first marriage as it was the strain of living up to societal expectations with regard to a happy and fulfilled married life that pushed him towards drinking in the first place.

All those romantic movies Linda was so fond of watching, back in the day, they never showed you what comes after your significant other says yes, and you finally settle into a life together. He always assumed everything would fall into place, once you’re sitting in your picture-perfect house with your beautiful new wife and a little bundle of joy on the way. What those movies usually failed to mention was that you were basically signing in for what felt like a lifetime of proving your worth as a romantic partner, regardless that you were long past the courtship stage by that point.

And, well, frankly it all started feeling a bit too much, no matter how adoring his wife or how spectacular the sex. They had kept it up long after that, mainly for Verity’s sake, but in hindsight it was a terrible decision, not least because rather than owning up to his share of the blame, he started to hit the bottle as a way to numb his feelings of inadequacy. It had taken a decade of sobriety and the failure of his second marriage for him and Linda to be back on speaking terms, and by then, he was barely more than a stranger to his elder daughter.

When he and Karen got married, he thought he had it all worked out; she was his closest confidant as well as his lover, and they were on an equal footing in pretty much every aspect of their relationship. And above all, she didn’t require constant proof of his unchanged feelings towards her; no need for him to put on an act for her benefit, he could just be himself in her presence, or so he thought.

By the time Emily was four, they were sleeping in separate rooms, and he was seeing more of Helena than he did of his own wife. He never cheated on Karen, that much was true, but it did very little to assuage his guilt when he eventually bowed to the inevitable and manifested his intention to split up with her. She called him a bastard and a liar, even accused him of carrying a torch for ‘that bitch’ ever since their wedding day, five years prior; and while he would maybe go as far as admit to a certain level of sexual attraction dating back to that first meeting, he had only been entertaining the idea of acting on it for the past six months.

And oh, sex with Helena was everything he’d imagined it to be, and more. She was significantly younger than both Linda and Karen, happened to be a fitness enthusiast, and even more importantly, she was under the impression he was the best thing since the sliced bread. Which was precisely why he elected to omit the finer details when it came to his reasons for exchanging his prior position at Air England for an otherwise unspecified job at a small charter firm that – quite conveniently – operated out of Fitton. And yet, somewhere along the way, even their shared belief in the terrificness of Douglas Richardson turned out to be not enough.

“At least he loves me,” Helena had spat back at him, when he’d lashed out at her for having an affair behind his back. He’d let go of her then, his mind floundering helplessly as she moved around the room to gather her things, only coming back to his senses when the front door slammed shut after her.

How could she even suggest he didn’t love her, after he’d bloody left Emily’s mother to be with her? And yet, even now, with his third divorce long finalised and yet another flavour of alimony putting a dent in his savings, he cannot help but wonder.

Was he really, truly in love with Helena when he married her? He thought he was at the time, and with each of his previous wives before her, but now he’s not so sure anymore. Not after he had to sit through an eight-hour flight with Herc describing to him in painful detail how Carolyn makes him feel, never mind that she’s not even remotely his type and he very nearly gets a heart attack every time he lays eyes on that terrifying-looking stuffed sheep that lives in their house.

And now Martin has announced he and Theresa are finally getting married – his Liechtenstein citizenship test passed with flying colours, and on his fifth attempt no less – Douglas is beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, this relationship malarkey might not be for him after all.

It’s not as if he isn’t happy enough now, back in the captain’s seat, flying the old girl all over the world with Carolyn and Arthur – and yes, even Herc – at his side. And he still gets to tease Martin by text in his spare time, send him new word games when he’s particularly bored, or even fill him in on Arthur’s latest culinary exploits.

He’s going to go up to Barrow-in-Furness in two weeks’ time for Emily’s birthday, and he’s actually looking forward to seeing Karen again; they’ve settled into the beginnings of a tentative friendship of late, what with his most recent divorce and her splitting up amicably with her second husband, and she jokingly told him over the phone he’s welcome to stay for the duration of the weekend so long as there are no further attempt on the life of her surviving koi carp.

As for Verity, their relationship may still be more than a little frayed in places, but he gets the feeling she’ll come round in her own time, whenever she’s ready. He was positively delighted when she emailed him last month, explaining she moved in with her girlfriend and that he should send her birthday and Christmas cards to the new address.

As one of the greatest philosophers of our age put it, you’re hardly ever blissfully happy with the love of your life in the moonlight; and when you are, you’re too busy worrying about it being over soon. He smiles, closes his laptop, and decides he may as well run himself a hot bath.

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.07

Read From Start | Read Ahead | Home Site

Nairi stared at the window. The window stared back. The window very much wanted her to know that its name was “Joe”.

Linden swung back out of the doorway of the bar, looking between Nairi and the window, and she grinned. “Yeah, Joe’s just like this,” she said, grabbing Nairi’s wrist and tugging her towards the door. “Come on, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

The inside of the bar was warmly lit, and while it wasn’t fancy it was definitely nicer than the dive Linden had set on fire last week. The lights hung low from the ceiling in eclectic, mismatched lamp shades, yellow and incandescent despite what felt like five million articles a week about the environment and fluorescent lighting. The booth seats were lined with shiny red vinyl, stacked along the wall opposite the long bar with its tall stools. The lights behind the bar were big, painted bulbs on a string, decorating two signs in clashing materials that read ‘JOE’ and ‘JOE’S KITCHEN’ in different fonts and stretching along the shelves that were cluttered with bottles that looked like they’d been arranged with more mind paid to how they looked than their cost or use. There was an old-fashioned popcorn machine sitting on the corner with a wire rack stacked high with paper cones, and a flowerpot on the back counter with ‘TIPS’ painted on it in colourful dots. A short and cheerful looking guy in a black shirt and thick rimmed glasses was drying a cocktail shaker with a rag, and he grinned at the two of them as they approached the bar.

Linden dropped Nairi’s wrist and slammed her hands down on the counter, gesturing towards the bartender. “Nairi, this is Joe! He runs a great bar.”

“Right,” said Nairi, nodding at him after a moment, hand raised very slightly to wave across the bar. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” said Joe, setting the shaker on the counter and draping the rag over his shoulder. “At last—Linden never shuts up about you. Can I grab you guys a drink?”

Linden what?

“Whatcha got on the non-alcoholic front?” asked Linden, totally unbothered by this assertion, grinning animatedly with glossy lips and blushed cheeks. She winked and elbowed Nairi lightly. “Nairi’s tee-total. Not big on the caffeine, either.”

“Just a coke is fine,” said Nairi to Joe with another awkward nod.

“Oh, I can do you an orange juice if caffeine’s a bug,” said Joe brightly, pulling a glass off the rack in front of him. “Gotta say, coke’s got too much for me on nights I’m not working, don’t like to drink it after the sun’s down, y’know? Or if you wanna go a bit fancy I can whip up a mocktail! Dash of grenadine, shot of mango, tiny umbrella, the works?”

“Orange juice is great, thanks,” said Nairi after a moment, hooking her hands into her back pockets to stop them from clasping in front of her chest.

“Coke’s got caffeine in it?” said Linden, leaning on the bar.

Joe nodded, bending at the waist and pulling a bottle of orange juice out of one of the clear fronted fridges behind him. “Yeah! I guess ‘cause it’s sweet most people don’t think of it. Can I grab ya something, Lindy? I got a new case of chocolate stout in on Tuesday, it’s pretty great.”

Linden laughed, kicking her toe back behind her to prop on the floor as she leaned in. “Oh, don’t tempt me—you know how I feel about stouts! Can I just have a vodka on a rock?”

Joe laughed and nodded as he finished pouring the orange juice, pulling out a squat glass and depositing the largest ice cube Nairi had ever seen into it. He poured a generous amount of vodka over the ice, then finished each drink with a splash of pink grenadine and a novelty straw. Linden’s had a heart shaped loop in it.

He pushed set them on the counter in front of them with a grin, and Nairi smiled back, handing over her card.

A warm hand found Nairi’s, Linden guiding them towards a booth at the back of the room. Nairi glanced at her, eyes flicking around the room for a bin where she could get rid of her novelty straw. “How do you feel about stouts?”

Linden’s mouth twitched. “No clue,” she admitted. “They’re like, the dark ones, right? Joe’s really big on his beers.”

“You’re not?” said Nairi, her mouth twitching a little.

Linden held up her vodka in a mock salute with a wink. “I’m more in favour of efficiency and having fun.”

“A woman after my own heart,” said Nairi.

Linden giggled, the lines around her eyes creasing as they drew to a halt by the backmost booth, occupied by two colourful hairstyles and a grouchy looking ginger in glasses. The first two Nairi recognised from Linden’s texts—the grad student friends with musical talent. The ginger was a mystery.

“Guys, this is Nairi!” said Linden to the table, prompting the three of them to turn their heads with a chorus of greetings, curious eyes lingering on Nairi. “Nairi, this is Mason,” soft faced man, teal hair flat ironed into a fringe over one eye, “Flo,” a young black woman, her cornrows and wayfarer style glasses in matching shades of bright pink, “and Agatha!” solving the mystery of the ginger.

“Welcome to the post-grad misery zone,” said Mason, toasting her with a pink and fizzy drink complete with a straw to match Linden’s. “Agatha’s just submitted her PhD thesis, we’re commiserating.”

“Oh, uh, congratulations?” said Nairi to Agatha.

“Thanks,” said Agatha tiredly, shoving her glasses up her nose.

“No!” said Flo, slapping the table with a wide grin. “We cannot congratulate you before your defence, it’s bad luck! We’ll jinx you!”

Mason laughed, a little too loudly, shaking his head as Linden slid into the seat next to Flo with a short cackle, patting the vinyl next to her with a grin at Nairi. “We’ll crack out the leg-breaking wishes on the day for you, Aggy,” she said, leaning into a hug from Flo.

Nairi perched awkwardly at the edge of the booth, setting her pink-tinged juice on the table. Agatha’s eyes kept flicking towards her as she and Mason talked about scheduling logistics and email exchanges with professors. Nairi tried not to let it bother her and took a sip of her drink, turning her head to tune into Linden and Flo where they’d gone rapid fire into chatting about… performances? She thought they’d been arguing about theatre curses, but they were well into local bands now, the conversation jumping so quickly she couldn’t keep track.

She turned the glass around in her hand, fingers twitching slightly, and then glanced up as she heard footsteps approaching. Edith caught her eye, slowing to a halt on her way past the table. “Oh, hello again,” she said, sounding faintly amused as her eyebrow twitched up and disrupted her usual frown. “I heard you two had an exciting week.”

“Not really. Kinda quiet,” said Nairi, taking another sip of her juice.

Edith gave a quiet scoff of a laugh, rapping her knuckles on the tabletop next to Nairi’s hand. “Really? That’s not quite what Nicholas has been saying.”

Nairi hummed, setting her glass down.

Edith collected a neat whiskey from a round-faced young woman who joined her from the bar. “This is Verity,” she said, nodding at her. “Verity, this is Nairi and the redhead is Linden, the one who knows people in town closer to your age.”

At a guess Verity was about ten years older than anyone else at the table. Edith didn’t appear to care about this fact. Nairi nodded at her with an awkward smile, her teeth toggling with a tag of skin on the inside of her cheek. “Nice to meet you. Excuse me, uh, I just—need the bathroom a second.”

“Have fun,” said Edith glibly as Nairi stood and edged past her.

Nairi ignored her as she strode to the back of the bar, trying not to pick up speed as she went.

Mercifully the bathroom was empty. It was a small, two stall affair, and while Joe’s sense of interior design had extended into the room in the questionable paint choices and a talking bass over the paper towel dispenser, it was also quiet. She hesitated, then wedged the door shut, leaning her back against it and covering her face with her hands.

What was she doing? It was only three people. Three of Linden’s friends, that was all. Edith and Verity made five, but that wasn’t a crowd. She’d been in crowded bars, filled with way more people, louder volumes, far, far more confusing conversations—

And when she escaped to the bathroom it was usually to snort something before she went back out and glared at everyone who tried to talk to her, filled in the cynical voice that sat in the back of her head.

Suddenly the bathroom was the last place she wanted to be. She glared at the floor and stood up properly, setting the cold tap on the tiny sink to full blast and shoving her hands under the stream. She slammed the soap dispenser aggressively and started scrubbing at her hands, wrinkling her nose at the strong, sickly scent. Water splashed up her sleeves as she took deep breaths through her nose, counting down from one hundred silently.

By the time she turned off the tap her hands were numb, the paper towel scraping her skin through what felt like a thick, protective coating all over her fingers. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath before exiting the bathroom.

When she came back out there’d been a switch in the conversational configurations and she paused, looking around to see if there was somewhere she’d… fit. It was worth it, to try, wasn’t it?

Mason and Flo were knocking elbows at the bar, looking at liquor bottles, while Verity and Edith had joined Agatha for a conversation that apparently required a lot of serious expressions and shredded napkins. Linden had swapped tables entirely, engaged deeply in a conversation with an older woman.

Nairi started to drift towards them, catching a snippet of what they were saying.

“—yeah, it definitely gets easier once you’re off the spiro, after,” Linden was saying as she rolled a beer bottle between her hands, previous glass empty on the table in front of her. “I go for injections these days, I’m like, totally useless at remembering to take a daily pill, though I did while I was in college.”

“I’ve been considering swapping,” said the woman, nodding at Linden. “My partner gets squeamish with needles, though—”

Nairi’s feet turned to head towards the bar without her actively thinking about it. She had no desire to discuss anything relating to needles or medication right now, no matter how benign.

“Oh, I knew if I left them alone they’d get into hormones!” said a cheerful voice from just beside her.

Nairi turned and was greeted by a short, androgynous looking blond with their hand outstretched. For lack of a better response, she shook it.

“I’m Avery,” they said, smiling widely. “Are you Nairi? Your friend, Linden, mentioned you before I left her alone with Cynth and let them derail straight into titty-skittle talk.”

Nairi latched onto one part of the sentence without meaning to. “Synth?”

Avery burst out laughing. “Sorry! Cynthia—my wife. I have to shorten every name, it’s my worst trait!”

“No-o! We all do it, you’ll fit right in!” cried out Flo, wrapping an arm around Avery’s shoulders and squeezing. “Nairi! Come sit with us! Avery uses they as a personal pronoun, isn’t that cool?”

“Um, very cool,” said Nairi, letting herself follow them up to the front of the bar where Mason and Joe were very seriously discussing what the essential components of a good Manhattan were.

Flo and Avery giggled, jostling up against each other and Nairi as they took the seats next to Mason. Joe grinned at them as they sat, Mason taking a dainty sip of his cocktail through a comically small straw. “Hey, hey! Anything I can get for you ladies and genderqueer? Another juice?” he said, winking at Nairi.

Flo gasped, slapping the top of the bar. “Mocktails! Joe, do you know any good mocktails?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay—” started Nairi, but Flo and Avery were nodding eagerly, and someone’s hand patted her shoulder.

“I love mocktails!” crowed Avery, nodding eagerly. “Cynth thinks they’re dumb—she’s a grain alcohol kinda lady—”

“I might know some mocktails,” said Joe loudly, and Mason, Avery and Flo cheered raggedly, Flo clapping over the counter.

Joe did make a good mocktail, or at least a tasty one. Tasty wasn’t always the same as ‘good’ when it came to regular cocktails, but she thought hers might be pineapple based and it was sweet, so Nairi thought it was good. The others were easy conversation too; they didn’t actively leave her out, but no one was leaning on her to talk, and when she did, at least one of them paid attention.

Still, when she heard her name called she was grateful for the excuse to walk away from the loud chatter.

“There you are,” said Linden cheerfully as she stopped at the table, the seating arrangement having cycled through again. She and Agatha were on one side of the booth, their cheeks reddened from the booze, or the warmth, or the conversation, Nairi couldn’t tell. Edith was sprawled across from them, taking up the whole bench seat and looking highly amused by whatever they were talking about. “Do you wanna go for a ride?” Linden asked guilelessly, looking up at Nairi as she took a drink from her beer.

“Yeah, sure,” said Nairi, shrugging at her. “Where were you thinking of heading out to?”

Edith snorted and Linden shrugged back. “Don’t know yet, still mulling it over. You left your drink at the bar,” she added. She was still smiling, but there was something cynical lurking in her eyebrows.

“Oh, thanks,” said Nairi, with the nagging feeling that she’d missed something.

There was a small kerfuffle as she turned to head back to the bar, rustling of cloth and Linden saying, “You see what I mean?” about something.

Her drink was where she’d left it, Flo and the others were being corralled back to the booths by Cynthia, and when she turned around, Agatha was standing there, looking a little flushed. “Hi,” she said, blinking at her.

“Hi,” said Agatha, and then, all at once: “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” said Nairi immediately, a rush of relief filling at her at the sudden escape route in front of her.

“Really?” said Agatha, smiling at her. “I, I meant—with me?”

Nairi smiled back at her. “Yeah.” Agatha was cute, in an angry kind of way, she thought, suddenly speculative. And god only knew it had been too long since she’d had any kind of intimacy like that, friendly or otherwise. Besides, if it went downhill she could probably take her. “Let me just say goodbye to Linden, she doesn’t like it when I vanish without warning her.”

“Oh, of course,” said Agatha, nodding, her cheeks reddening. “I’ll meet you outside?”

Nairi set her glass down in the ‘return zone’ Joe had marked out on the bar in neon washi tape (it had parking bays, he was really committed to the quirky bit) and walked back over to Linden’s booth, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Hey, I’m heading home for the night,” she said casually, nudging Linden’s shoulder with her knuckles.

Linden’s eyes widened as she looked up, gaze darting past Nairi then back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, nodding at her. “It was good to get out of the house. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” said Linden, tone clipped, nodding. Across the table Edith was visibly laughing into her hand. “Later.”

Nairi headed towards the exit and Agatha, and behind her she heard Edith’s laughter suddenly rise in volume over the chatter.

[letterfromtrenwith]

Merry Kissmas

Poldark Advent Calendar - 4th December

Modern AU George/Elizabeth + Mistletoe 

Requested by anon

George isn’t really a big fan of Christmas parties...

"George! You're very late!" Caroline cried when she opened the door, her disapproving expression losing just a touch of seriousness by virtue of being above a Christmas jumper featuring a pug wearing a santa hat and the sequin-ed legend "Bah Humpug". It was the most Caroline thing he'd ever seen.

"I've been at - " He paused to let Caroline bestow two slightly boozy kisses on his cheeks, " - work!"

"George! It's Christmas!"

"It's Dec 10th." He protested as she dragged him into the living room. The entrance hall had been well decorated, but this was a bit like being smacked in the face with a Christmas card. A tree positively heaving with baubles loomed in the corner of the room, tinsel crawled along the top of every picture frame and just about every flat surface held at least one glittery stag or sweet-faced knitted snowman.

"It's no good arguing, George, it's been Christmas since Halloween so far as Caroline's concerned." Dwight appeared at George's elbow, offering a glass of something sparkling. "Non-alcoholic champagne, since you're driving."

"Thank you."

"At least you've made some sort of effort, I suppose." Caroline sniffed and flicked his tie - a garish green creation covered in tiny candy canes and snowflakes, which Margaret had gleefully presented him with at the office, insisting he couldn't possibly go to Caroline's party without something appropriate to wear. He did look very low-key compared with the everyone else - a dazzling array of Santas, reindeer, gingerbread men, baubles, robins and who knew what else adorned the guests in the form of jumpers, dresses, earrings and hairbands. Across the room he spotted Demelza wearing a bright green dress patterned with tinsel and baubles like a Christmas tree, while Verity was dressed in a red skirt emblazoned with Santa and Rudolf. Even Dwight was sporting a knit designed to look like a Christmas pudding.

He spent a short while mingling - and making the most of the excellent buffet, he'd eaten lunch at twelve and was now absolutely starving - until he headed to the kitchen to get some water, and instead was stopped in his tracks at the door. Elizabeth was standing at the bench - a clear, sparkling drink in her hand - laughing at something Emma was telling her. George had been introduced to Elizabeth at another one of Caroline's many parties in summer, and he hadn't relished the experience. Not because he didn't like Elizabeth - completely the opposite, in fact - but because he turned into a gibbering idiot every time he got within ten feet of her. Caroline's Halloween Party had been particularly embarrassing, not that being dressed as a Roman centurion had helped very much.

"Talk to her!" A little voice hissed in his ear, and he turned around to see a elf who looked suspiciously like Elizabeth's cousin, Morwenna, sneaking off back to the party. Easier said than done, Santa's Little Helper. George debated sneaking off himself but unfortunately Emma - in a white jumper declaring 'Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal' - turned around and saw him, which also attracted Elizabeth's attention. She gave him a wide smile, and George immediately felt himself get tongue-tied. He really should not have trouble talking to beautiful women at his age, but then again Elizabeth wasn't just any beautiful woman, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, as well as intelligent, witty and fascinating.

"George! How are you?" She put her head on the side, like she was actually interested, and he had to admire her politeness. He managed to stutter out some sort of response and struggle his way through small talk for a couple of minutes, feeling a complete fool the entire time, until Caroline called for Elizabeth from the living room, and she disappeared with another dazzling smile.

Ha managed another hour - and a few more pigs-in-blankets - before he had to escape to the conservatory for a bit of a breather. The party may not have spilled over into that room (yet), but it was no less decorated than everywhere else. It was a clear night, stars visible in the sky overhead; an advantage of living on the coast. Frost sparkled on the lawn, and at the end of the garden he caught the quick flash of the eyes of some nocturnal creature. The muffled strains of 'Step Into Christmas' echoed from the living room and out of the corner of his eye he saw someone in a Star Wars Christmas jumper - Drake - dance past the lounge window.

"Ah, there you are." George whipped around far too quickly at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. She stepped out of the house, giving a little involuntary shiver at the cooler air in the conservatory. He hadn't paid too much attention to her outfit before bar a flash of the colour - she wore a purple top covered in sequins, which matched her bauble shaped earrings. "Was wondering where you'd disappeared too."

"I've been to two clients' Christmas parties already, and I've got at least four more scheduled, not including the Bank do. I'm a bit partied out already." Evidently even the non-alcoholic champers had loosened his tongue, since he thought that was the most coherent sentence he'd ever managed in Elizabeth's presence.

"Oh, God, I'm with you there. Everyone I know seems to have decided they want to throw a party this year. There's only so many mince pies you can eat, whatever Demelza might say!"

They stood in blessedly comfortable silence for a short while, 'Step Into Christmas' fading into 'Santa Baby'. Somewhere in the distance, somebody was setting off fireworks.

"George, look up." Elizabeth murmured and he did as was told, despite the oddness of the request. Hanging above him, in the centre of the glass roof, was a sprig of mistletoe.

"Oh, er - "

"I've been trying to catch you under that all evening."

"I - what?"

"Well, all of the other blatant hints I've been dropping since about September don't seem to have been working, so I thought I'd best just cut to the chase." She grinned as he stared at her open-mouthed, but her smile gradually started to falter. "That is, unless you've been nicely giving me the brush off and I've just - mmmmm."

George had closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. After a tiny, surprised pause she wrapped her hand around his silly Christmas tie and pulled him closer. She tasted like Prosecco and gingerbread, and George was going to have to seriously revise his opinion of Christmas parties.

[somcthingnew]

let’s tell a different story.  let’s be something new.

trigger warnings for death, murder, suicide, abuse, hallucinations, & trauma.

(  BEX TAYLOR-KLAUS,  TWENTY-THREE,  THEY/THEM, SHE/HER  )  ┆ ——  did you hear about how LOKI moved to sinking rock  ?  they are from MARVEL COMICS,  and i get the feeling that you could best describe them with laughter full of mischief and mirth, stories told around a fire, & a golden diadem with a horn broken off.  they aren’t sure how they found themselves in sinking rock,  but the last thing they remember was ACCEPTING THE CAUTIONARY TALE THAT COULD BE THEIR FUTURE.  the song that best describes them is I WANNA GET BETTER by THE BLEACHERS,  and last i knew, they were working as a LIBRARIAN. i wonder how they’re going to cope with the oncoming disasters considering they tend to BE PRONE TO JEALOUSY AND ANGER.

i just. should not be allowed to write intros for loki as it tends to turn into a giant ramble fest, but hey! it’s whatever!

stats can be found HERE & wanted connections can be found HERE.

CANON BACKGROUND

mcu loki? idk him

i write a strictly comics / earth-616 based loki

to begin at, well, the beginning, there have been three main incarnations of loki.  i’m writing the third one, also occasionally known as ikol.

to very quickly and very badly sum up the lives of the first two lokis: a) the first loki was evil and kinda a dick, became known as the god of evil b) he died, left behind an echo/ghost/copy of himself c) this echo/ghost/copy is actually ikol d) loki was reincarnated as a child e) kid loki’s haunted by ikol f) ikol murders kid loki and steals his body

no one but ikol knows about kid loki’s death

they wind up haunted by a ghost of kid loki

well, kid loki’s less of a ghost and more of a guilt-driven hallucination that won’t leave ikol alone

loki eventually winds up working for the allmother - freyja (aka frigga, for those familiar with the mcu), gaea, & idunn - to earn their redemption and make up for loki’s past crimes

however a loki from the future, king loki as he’s known, shows up and uh. ruins that for them.  the future that king loki is from basically has a guarantee of asgard prospering, but at the price of loki playing the eternal villain

loki’s understandably less than happy about this, quits working for the allmother.

eventually the truth about what happened to kid loki comes out, and loki is subsequently uh. well. you see. a) thor tries to kill loki, can’t bring himself to. still breaks loki’s arm, knocks a tooth out, and one of the horns on loki’s diadem/tiara gets broken off b) the asgardians basically say loki’s worth no more than the dirt under their feet and pretend loki doesn’t exist c) freyja banishes loki, says they’re no longer asgardian, and basically disowns them d) odin gives loki some very dubious life advice, then. yknow. sets them on fire? e) king loki shows back up, tells loki about how the asgardians will never accept, want, or love loki and that’s why they wind up betraying thor and the asgardians again, basically

and loki gets sent to the “metaphorical space” where they have a lovely conversation with the original loki and kid loki

og loki basically gives loki option a, to accept that all they will ever be is a villain

and meanwhile kid loki gives them option b, which is to. kill themself

in response loki, who has the support of the best friend in the universe - verity willis - basically says “fuck that shit, i’m gonna be happy”

and just a lot more stuff happens, but - the big important bit is what loki remembers here in sinking rock

which is that they have to accept the past, and acknowledge what they could be, to be able to grow and move past it

the “cautionary tale” is king loki - the only way to avoid that future is by learning to love themself.

there’s a whole lot more to all this that i’ve skipped over and honestly just read young avengers (2013-2014) and loki: agent of asgard (2014-2015) okay? aoa especially makes me SOB

FAKE LIFE

they believe their name is actually trixie giddings, and loki is merely a nickname

they’re sam giddings half-sibling

they’re working as a librarian and tbh they absolutely love constantly being surrounded by books, though they hate that they can’t read as much as they’d like while on the clock

they’re probably still having hallucinations

EXTRA NOTES

loki’s genderfluid, and my headcanon for their genderfluidity is that their gender flows more so between being a woman and somewhere closer to agender.  so she/her and they/them pronouns are good, he/him are not. but more masculine words (brother, prince, god, etc) are generally fine. get it? no? that’s fine, you’re more than welcome to ask me to explain more/better !!

their actual age is unknown (they’re somewhere between half an eon and a few years), so the age listed - twenty-three - is just their physical age.

[sebastianxnott]

Sebastian Valiente Nott + Questionnaire

trigger warning ; abuse, drugs & ptsd. 

ORIGINS & FAMILY

Name: Sebastian Valiente Nott

Nickname(s): Seb, Bash, Sebby, Basty, mi soldado (by his mother), hermanito (by his sister) &  ahijado (by his godmother)

Reason for name:

Sebastian is a name meaning ‘venerable’ which means ‘accorded a great deal of respect‘ which is one of the reasons his mother gave him that name. It was also his maternal great great grandfather’s name.

His mother gave him the middle name Valiente because he was very ill when he was born. She was told not to name him until he survived a week but she did anyway and that was the name she gave him because it was the Spanish word for brave.

Birthday: Nineteenth of January, 2004

Age: Nineteen

Gender: Male

Place of birth: St Mungo’s, London, England

Places lived since:

Nott Manor in Cheshire, England

Hogwarts for most of the year starting at age eleven

An apartment in London with his mother from age twelve when he wasn’t at school

In an apartment with Brett Holland and Archer Selwyn in Hogsmeade

Parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations:

Edgar Nott - Father - He is the son and younger brother of known Death Eaters who fought in the Second Wizarding War. He is a pureblood wizard and Slytherin alumni. He took part in the Second Wizarding War but not in the Battle of Hogwarts itself. He has dabbled in other illegal activity and eventually set up Nott Industries as a cover for his drug ring. Up until recently, he was the biggest drug lord in Wizarding England. In 2022, he was arrested for his drug activity and links to the Death Eaters escape from Azkaban. He married his betrothed, Andrea Valazquez at age twenty two, who he has since separated from. They have two children together Verity and Sebastian. Following his trial and sentencing, Edgar received the Dementor’s Kiss.

Andrea Nott (nee Valazquez) - Mother - She is the eldest daughter of a well-known pureblood, Mexican family. She is a pureblood witch and a Castelobruxo alumni. She is a kind woman who has lived her whole life honestly. She never really believed in her family’s supremacist ways. When she married Edgar, she hoped to change his illegal ways and was unsuccessful. She worked as a waitress to provide for her son and continues to do so even though he is financially independent. She married her betrothed, Edgar Nott, when she was twenty one - who she separated from when she found out he was abusing Sebastian - and has one other child named Verity.

Number of siblings: One

Verity Nott (older sister)

Relationship with family (close? estranged?):

Sebastian does not get along with his father. He abused his son when he refused to join the family business. When Andrea left Edgar and took him with her, they both cut off all contact with him. Seb suffers from PTSD because of his relationship with his father. He testified at the Nott trial and was attacked by his father’s men as a result. He visited Edgar in prison before he received the Dementor’s Kiss, got closure and forgave him for all he’d done.

Seb is a mama’s boy. Not only is this because she is the only parent he still talks to but she always doted on and even babied him a little. Since she separated from his father, he feels the need to protect her from any kind of harm.

Verity and Seb haven’t always been close. When their parents separated, things became tense. He tried to get her to see the real Edgar with little success until he was arrested. He still would do anything to protect her though. Since the arrest though, they’ve gotten closer and Verity has seen the truth. Seb even reunited her with their mother.

Happiest memory: When Verity came to have dinner with him and his mother for the first time in five years.

Childhood trauma: The time when his father attacked him so bad that they had to say it was an animal attack when he went to St Mungo’s. 

Children of his/her own?: N/A

PHYSICAL

Height: 5″10 / 178 cm

Weight: 159 lbs / 72 kg

Build: Slim

Nationality: English & Mexican

Disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): PTSD

Complexion: He has a few freckles / moles on his chin and cheeks. He also has a scar along his left cheekbone from one of the times his father lashed out at him with a knife. He also has scars scattered along his arms, legs and torso as a result of the abuse in his childhood and also fresher ones from his attack in 2023.

Hair color: Black

Usual hair style: Kinda sticks up around his head even when he doesn’t gel it up.

Eye color: Dark Brown

Glasses? Contacts?: Contacts

Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Seb’s style is jeans and brightly colored t-shirts, occasionally comic themed. He also has a dark denim jacket that he wears almost all the time. He’s also prone to wearing high top Converse.

Health: Seb rarely gets colds or stomach bugs but he bruises like a peach and scars easily.

Grooming: Seb showers every evening. He doesn’t wear makeup or pluck his eyebrows but gels his hair frequently. He doesn’t wear dirty clothes, unless it’s by accident.

Tattoos? Piercings?:

‘Still I Rise’ on his outer right wrist with the ‘I’ designed to look like an arrow.

Compass / Arrow on his inner, upper arm. 

No Piercings

Accent?: British but the Mexican comes out when he gets angry and speaks Spanish.

Unique mannerisms/physical habits: He bites and picks at his nails frequently.

INTELLECT

Level of education (high school drop out, undergrad BA/BS, PhD, MD, etc.): Hogwarts graduate, currently carrying out the healer training programme at St Mungo’s.

Gifts/talents/skills:

Seb is very good at cooking because of his mother. She taught herself and all of his favorite meals are the ones she cooks, even when he lived in Nott Manor with a five star chef. So he asked her to teach him so he could cook when he was at Hogwarts and when he finished.

He is currently teaching himself how to play the guitar and has been for about a year now.

Sebastian speaks English, Spanish and French.

Seb was the Quidditch seeker for the Hufflepuff team and considered himself very good at it.

Shortcomings:

Sebastian is a little unstable do to his PTSD and tends to change his mood from day to day or even hour to hour. He has nightmares almost every night and his thoughts are frequently haunted by what his father did. Though he is improving, he is still very unstable.

Due to his history, Seb has a tendency to be paranoid and finds it difficult to trust people. 

Style of speech: He speaks with great articulation but his voice tends to get quieter and more shaky when he’s unhappy.

Religious stance: Wizarding Catholic

Cautious or daring?: Cautious but with infrequent daring streaks.

Most sensitive about/vulnerable to: Showing off his arms because of the scars

Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist

Extrovert or introvert?: Introvert

RELATIONSHIPS

Current marital/relationship status: In a relationship with Ariadne McLaggen

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual

Past relationships:

TBD

Level of sexual experience: He has had sex with three people, including his current girlfriend.

Most comfortable around (person): Brett Holland & Archer Selwyn

Oldest friend: Wyatt Holland (deceased)

Pets?: He has a white cat named ‘Posa which is short for Mariposa.

VOCATION

Profession: Healer-in-Training

Past occupations: Student

Passions: Cooking, Guitar & Quidditch

Attitude towards current job: All Seb wants to do is bring good to the tainted Nott name. and the way to do that is by helping people instead of harming them. So he loves his job and looks forward to being fully qualified as a healer.

Attitude towards current coworkers, bosses, employees: He is impartial to most of his colleagues but attempts to get along with them the best he can.

SECRETS

Phobias:

Losing anyone else he cares about.

Life goals:

Sebastian would like to finish is healer training and become one of the best in whatever field he ends up choosing.

Greatest fears:

Seb is afraid of his father getting let off with no prison time and coming to get him. This is a result of his PTSD.

Most ashamed of:

Despite all the good it has done, Seb frequently feels ashamed about becoming an informant in his father’s case. This is more because he did not tell his sister about it than getting his father imprisoned.

Compulsions:

Whenever Seb is upset or angry or just wants to get away, he is automatically drawn to the roof. Not because he wants to jump off but rather just to escape. It was a tactic as a child and it was usually Ver who found him.

Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): N/A

What he/she most wants to change about his/her self/life?: He wants to change most things about himself.

DETAILS/QUIRKS

Daily routine:

Seb gets up about an hour before he has to go to St Mungo’s for training, eats a small breakfast and showers quickly. He apparates to work. He eats lunch, usually in the hospital cafeteria, at about 12 but that depends on what he has to do in the morning. He finishes at around 5 but again that depends on what he has to do. Seb does not leave until he’s finished with what he has to do. Depending on the day, he has dinner with his sister, his girlfriend or his housemates. He usually cooks. His evening plans and who he spends them with depend on the day as well. He usually goes to sleep just before midnight.

On the weekends, Seb sometimes goes to St Mungo’s depending on what training he has. If he does not do this, he frequently visits his mother on the weekends but also spends time with his girlfriend, his sister or his best friends.

Night owl or early bird?: Night Owl

Light or heavy sleeper?: Light Sleeper

Favorite food: Anything his mother cooks

Favorite book: Comic books mostly.

Favorite movie: Anything from Marvel or DC.

Favorite song: Anything by Panic! At the Disco.

Favorite color: Gold

Coffee or tea?: Coffee

Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: Smooth Peanut Butter

Type of car he/she drives (or wishes he/she drove): Doesn’t drive.

Lefty or righty?: Lefty

Cusser?: Yes and usually in Spanish.

Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: No. Socially. Never.

[carolightpenvenys]

DEADLY NIGHTSHADE CHAPTER 4

Chapter 4: sister act

Caroline 6.26am

Verity 6:27

girl this better be good you woke me up

caroline cmon

the suspense is killing me

Caroline 6:30

you know i said we were on a boy cleanse

well

Verity 6:31

tell me

is this gonna make me feel better abt getting back together with andrew

Caroline 6:33

verity! i thought we agreed that until he put a ring on it we were saying no!!!!

but possibly yes

Verity 6:35

i’m weak ok

what’s the tea

Caroline 6:37

black

Verity 6:37

what

Caroline 6:38

chai

Verity 6:39

what

Caroline 6:40

i slept with the hot doctor on my case and i am like 90% sure i am in love with him

Verity 6:41

oh girl

tell me everything

CALLING VERITY

“Oh my God, is he still there?” Were Verity’s first words when she answered the phone.

Caroline sighed, “Sadly not. We’re doing this very sexy thing where we fucked out our emotions and now we are supposed to be professional. He left last night.”

“Oh Caroline.” Verity sighed. “What have you done?”

“I don’t even know? Like I was the one who suggested it?”

“Why?”

“I kind of told him that I liked him a lot but I thought he was getting weirded out so I just went haha let’s fuck? And he went for it. How am I going to go to work on Monday Verity?” Caroline sighed. “Actually I’m glad he’s not here, Horace climbed in my bed and even he is recoiling at my awful morning breath.”

Verity laughed audibly. “I’m so sad I literally live 1000 miles away. I want to meet this guy!”

“Yeah why did you move to Lisbon? I miss you. I need you to see if you think he’s as hot as I think he is.”

“You know it’s quite encouraging.” Verity remarked. “Normally after you sleep with a guy, you question how you were even attracted to him in the first place.”

“Ugh, why do I have to have feelings Verity?” Caroline whinged, cuddling Horace closer. “I’ve decided the only man I’m allowing into my life now is Horace. That’s it. That’s the rules.” She climbed out of bed, almost dropping her iPhone in the process.

“I mean, we all saw how you lasted with your no men rule.”

“Stop it!” Caroline made a beeline for the kettle, ready to make a (good) cup of (proper) tea, unlike that milky shit Dwight lovingly makes her every morning. “I never catch feelings, what’s wrong with me?”

“Honestly who even is she anymore? Colour me shoo-”

“Verity! Emergency!” Caroline picked up some of her own stationary with ‘For Caroline’ scrawled on the front.

“What?” Verity called back but Caroline had already put the phone down, ripping open the envelope keenly.

Dear Caroline,

Just to let you know, I know very little about women (who aren’t patients) but I know enough to know you’re a fantastic one.

Thank you for a wonderful night,

Dwight x

“Verity my fanny is fluttering intensely.” Caroline picked the phone back up.

“Caroline!”

“How am I supposed to work with him when he keeps giving me all these… love kernels?”

“You’ve got to stay strong.” Verity was using her motivational mum voice. “Resolute.”

“He left me his number, I’m going to text him, ask what time he’s coming in on Monday.”

“Caroline I really don’t think that’s a-”

“Goodbye Verity!” Caroline slammed down her phone before realizing that could break the screen and also that she needed it immediately to text Dwight. Her hands were shaking a little and she was shocked at the pure effect he had on her. She didn’t feel like she’d ever felt like this about a man before, despite the overwhelming amount of men (and women) interested in her.

“Oh fuck.” She put an earl grey tea bag in her mug, something she’d become accustomed to since meeting Dwight. “I’m a white man’s whore.” Horace was whining at her feet and she opened her double doors to let him out, contemplating how she’d been so involved in solving this damn case, she’d put herself second again. Which she swore she’d never do.

Maybe sleeping with Dwight was a mistake. Maybe she should make him less involved in the case.

But you see, he had this way of connecting with witnesses, asking the right questions that made Caroline feel more secure, even as an experienced detective.

Plus, she sighed, there was definitely something there. Why on earth did he have to be her colleague?

“Oh Horace,” she spooned his food into his bowl where he had returned from the garden. “I’ve fucked up.”

Horace simply snaffled his food in reply and she stared at him fondly. Living in a ground floor apartment meant she had a beautiful little patio and she could watch Horace all day at the weekend, unless the case was really desperate. But she’d bought her files home and was ready to read up on her next witness, Rowella Chynoweth.  

Why on earth hadn’t she called on the sister of the deceased earlier? Apparently she lived in the next town over but witness statements showed they had not spoken since Morwenna’s marriage to Osborne Whitworth. This seemed unlikely due to the close proximity of the sisters. Character references also seemed to prove she couldn’t hold a job down, with one employer calling her a ‘pathological liar.’

As much as she admired Dwight, she knew she’d have to do this one alone.

POLICE INTERVIEW WITH SUSPECT:

MISS ROWELLA CHYNOWETH (POSSIBLE WITNESS, SISTER OF THE DECEASED): RC

DET. CAROLINE PENVENEN: CP

CP: Just to reassure you, this is a chat more than an interview, legal counsel probably is not required unless you insist on it.

RC: Well, when I need it I have the best that money can buy.

CP: Really? I have a warrant to your bank statements that seem to suggest otherwise.

RC: I have my means.

CP: Are you referring to the £1,000 given to you each month by an Osborne Whitworth?

RC: Yes, they regret they could not see me often so they sent me some compensatory money.

CP: That’s odd. Unusual for a family. Did Mowenna know about this money?

RC: Yes.

CP: I will make note of this. What was your relationship like with your sister and her husband?

RC: My sister and I drifted apart after her marriage. I always thought her jealous of me because she chose to be married and regretted it after.

CP: Some witnesses have reported that your sister was unhappy in her marriage, does this surprise you?

RC: Honestly? She was miserable all the time about one thing or another I wouldn’t take that too seriously.

CP: Did you ever notice any abnormalities in her marriage to the Reverend Whitworth?

RC: As I say, I distanced myself after the marriage.

CP: Yes, could we go through that again? You have ‘distanced’ yourself by living just one town over but they miss you so much, they send you compensatory money?

RC: Yes, I wouldn’t change a word you said. Let the record show that. Anything else?

CP: Yes one more thing, where were you the afternoon and evening of the murder?

RC: With my boyfriend, a man named Arthur Sawley.

CP: That’s all for now, Rowella, don’t skip town.

END OF INTERVIEW

Caroline swung open her office door, ready to collapse into her comfortable chair when-

“You look absolutely exhausted and it’s only 10am.”

Dwight was sat in the chair opposite her desk, smiling, as if he had been there for quite a while and honestly? It had Caroline shook up.

“Oh yeah sorry,” Caroline forced out a smile through her shock. “I just had a really difficult witness.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know you had one coming in today.” Dwight countered as Caroline made herself comfortable in her chair. Honestly even retaining eye contact with him was a lot right now.

“Yeah Rowella Chynoweth. She’s a liar, I sense it in my gut. And from several sturdy character references.” Caroline scribbled furiously on her interview notes. “There’s this £1000 I just cannot justify.” She explained to him about the monthly payments and Dwight furrowed his brow.

“Maybe he’s paying her off for something?”

“But she said Morwenna knew about the payments?” Caroline could not connect the dots.

“But she’s a liar.” Dwight shrugged. “By the way, your hair looks nice today.”

Caroline blushed. She’d worn her hair down for the first time in ages and she wasn’t wearing a pantsuit for the first time in ages because she’d decided it was a new week and time for a new Caroline. “Thank you.” She’d always been excellent at taking compliments. How well she had been schooled. “I need a fucking clue, none of this is slotting together.” She’d been biting her biro for the last five minutes. “When will people stop lying?”

“She seems like the number one suspect at the moment.” Dwight suggested. “I’m sad I didn’t get to interview her sociopathic self.”

“Oh you missed nothing- I knew what I had to do and at least I’ve got some frankly lazy cover stories to work with.”

“Hey Caroline.” She was startled by the receptionist knocking on the door. “This just came for you.”

She passed a brown envelope with a printed label saying DET. CAROLINE PENVENEN

“Ooh I hope it’s my payslip.” Caroline smiled. “I’m broke as hell this month.” Dwight didn’t need to know that with her inheritance she’d never have to work a day in her life because it wasn’t important.

“It looks lowkey suspicious.” Dwight winced slightly.

“The new receptionist is very new so I will just have to see what amateur hour she’s produced here.” Caroline broke the seal with her letter opener she’d used only once before.

Inside were two sheets of paper almost stuck together and Caroline gasped when she saw what it was. “Oh my God Dwight.” She said under her breath, “You’re not going to believe this.”

For inside the envelope were two… indecent pictures of Rowella Chynoweth and the Reverend Osborne Whitworth.

“Oh my god.” Dwight gasped. “First of all, I’m never going to unsee that, put it away. Second of all, that’s probably what the money was for.”

“Morwenna couldn’t have possibly known about that money.” Caroline shook her head. “But I think we just found some motive.”

“Next question,” Dwight added, “Who sent this?”

“I will run the envelope to evidence for prints but I doubt there will be anything. Whoever is giving me these clearly wants to remain anonymous.” Caroline sighed. “FUCK.”

“You know, you should start a swear jar,” Dwight reclined his seat. “You’d make so much money.”

“When I was younger, swearing was bad manners. My uncle always said ‘no man will ever love you if you have a foul mouth’ and I just thought… well fuck.”

“That’s actually not true.” Dwight replied. “If anything it makes you more intellectual, shows you have a stronger grasp on the English language.”

Caroline blushed again. “Dwight, stop.” She shook her head. “Next thing I’ll have myself thinking you believe in me.”

To that, Dwight just smiled enigmatically. “What’s the harm in me believing you can solve this case?”

Hi yeah, the problem is I’m trying to delete my feelings for you but every time we are in the same room it intensifies times 100.

“Nothing. I’m a brilliant detective.” Caroline smirked. “And you’re a subpar doctor.”

“Stop it.” Dwight laughed. “I didn’t spend seven years at university to be called subpar!”

“Ok,” Caroline conceded, trying to tone down how extra she was being because she felt as if she was embarrassing herself. “I’ll confess, you’re a pretty great doctor. To dead people. I guess.”

“Wow.” Dwight was happy she’d finally cracked. “That’s going to be the opening statement on the cover letter for my next job.”

“What?” Caroline furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re leaving the morgue?”

“Yeah, I’ve done my time. I want to be a GP, it’s a bit more my scene. I’m going to have to go back to school for a bit first, but yeah, I plan to leave for Cambridge as soon as this case is over.”

Caroline’s heart was stamped on. Is this why he wanted to solve the case as soon as possible? Why the change? Did he not want to work with her anymore?

“Caroline,” Dwight attempted to regain her eye contact. “You literally look as if you’ve seen a ghost, are you ok?”

“This isn’t about… what happened between us is it?” Caroline could barely get the words out, she felt as if her mouth was made of cotton. How had she caught feelings so fast?

“No.” Dwight was quick to respond, holding his hand out over the table. “You are quite an incredible woman Caroline but not so much so you make me want to change practice.”

Caroline tentatively put her hand out back. “You see, things like this hurt me Dwight.”

“Things like what?”

“I don’t know whether it’s because you’re my colleague, or whether you’re a professional but, I just never feel like you’re completely in my reach.” Caroline said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

“Caroline,” Dwight replied almost instantly. “Do you want me to be in reach?”

Desperately, Caroline thought to herself.

“Until you go to Cambridge.”  Caroline kept her voice calm. “I think we should keep doing… what we do. I don’t think I’m ready to let go yet. Are you?”

Dwight sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “I wish I could say I was but, we are going to have to keep it secret.”

“The best kept secret.”

“How did this get so complicated?” Dwight was confused. “If this were any other circumstance I would be dating the hell out of you right now.”

Is what you wanted him to say.

What he actually said was, “Thank you Caroline. I’ve got another body in the morgue, see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Caroline breathed out gently, blushing at the thought. “See you tonight Doctor Enys.”

A/N: I WANT UR THEORIES!! WHO IS THE MURDERER AND WHO IS SENDING THOSE NOTES? WILL CAROLINE AND DWIGHT EVER MAN UP AND TELL EACHOTHER HOW THEY FEEL?

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Let's do something crazy: Valentino/Magnus

THERE WAS A TIME THAT VALENTINE MORGENSTERN STOOD FOR ALL THAT WAS GOOD AND NOBLE IN THE CLAVE. THERE WAS A TIME:

Valentine Morgenstern knows how frustrating this must be from the perspective of someone like Magnus Bane. Bane, for all his age and power, has always been a bit of a rogue element. The price of independence. His own fault really. His credibility isn’t what it could be; his alliances with the Clave strong but not strong enough. Bane’s greatest weapon outside of his considerable magic is that people like him better than they like other people. He’s popular. A Rockstar. He’s used to getting his way. Finding his words failing now on unsympathetic ears, unmoved by any appeal to familiarity or trust?

It’s almost funny.

“Are you not hearing what I’m saying? None of that is true!” He’s so angry now he’s at that strange desperate stage between completely losing it and crying. Warlocks. The older they get, the deeper, bigger, more unwieldy their emotions. Magnus is losing control of his to the utterly calm face of Maryse Lightwood. “People are dead! Someone is doing this on purpose and you need to do something about it. I’m telling you right now.”

“We are looking into, Mr. Bane. As I’ve been saying for the last five minutes. Do not make me remove you from this premise. I’m sorry for your loss, but the facts of each case stand as they are until such a time as new evidence is presented.” Hell, Maryse is good. She stares down a five-hundred (six-hundred?) year old immortal who is so angry he’s starting to lose control of his glamore and she never even blinks. “We appreciate the services you’ve rendered to the Clave and your diligence as a citizen in bringing us your concerns, but these matters are being handled.”

Which is when Bane telekinetically snaps her clipboard into fifteen pieces, the entire things shattering like glass in her fingers.

“You’re not handling shit,” Bane snarls.

Valentine thinks he’s probably going to have to intervene.

Maryse, again, doesn’t flinch though every single nephilim in the room grabs for their stele. She calmly holds up one hand to stave them off, never looking away from the warlock in front of her. Magnus doesn’t back down. He really should. He’s just used magic against a shadowhunter, however cosmetically, and Valentine knows that Mayse has made actionable mountains out of less. Buried people for less.

But Bane’s got this look, feral, but calculated.

No. Not here. Bane’s got no hold at the Clave, but he’s popular enough it will cause trouble. Can’t do it like that.

“I will give you a warning,” Maryse says reasonably. “Next time you bring magic to bear against me, I will have to detain you. I remember the courses you taught at the Indonesian Institute. I would rather not arrest a former teacher–”

Magnus laughs and the whole room shivers, aches with the potential energy of his fury, a physical presence in the room. 

“God, you grew up, huh? They could put my eyes out in front of you  and you wouldn’t flinch.”

Maryse narrows her eyes.

“The Law,” she says, “is hard, but it is the Law.”

“Fuck you,” Magnus says. “You’re a murderer and all the Writ in the world won’t undo it.”

Valentine separates himself from the doorway he’s been watching from and crosses the room. Magnus sees him coming and his expression immediately changed to relief. And why shouldn’t it? Luke and Jocelyn were favored students of his; they have him on speed dial. Too bad they’re in mission in London and won’t be back for a month.

“Valentine,” he says, pushing past Maryse. “I need to talk to you. No one else will listen.”

“Of course,” he says, clapping Magnus on the shoulder. “Apologies for the welcome. Let’s take this to a conference room.”

Magnus follows him. He’s agitated. A scent of static around him like its own pressure system. Valentine thinks, idly, how easy it would be to turn around and shove a seraph blade through the warlock’s stomach, wrench it up, watch every inch of magic fall to utterly useless in the face of direct action. Magnus is glancing warily at all the other shadowhunters milling through the halls of the Institute and on closer inspection it’s clear to Valentine the warlock’s not sleeping. That’s he’s ragged. Makes sense. A lot of his friends are being detained and disappearing.

Valentine shuts them in a conference room and Magnus immediately launches into a rant.

“Someone is framing downworlders. I can prove it. I have a dozen witness accounts, a forensic spell that’s admissible in court, and I’ll testify myself. Viggo and Verity were killed before those weapons were put on their bodies. This is a cover up. You have something wrong in your ranks, Valentine, and no one will listen to a downworlder, you have to—”

“Magnus. Calm down,” Valentine says. He crosses the room, placing a hand on the warlock’s shoulder. “I know. I know something is wrong. And I’d appreciate it if you weren’t. blowing things up in my foyer while I try to hunt it down.” He squeezes his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Magnus stares. “You know?”

“Yes. I’m putting a stop to it.”

Magnus keeps staring at him, then the relief seems to catch up to him all at once and the warlock kind of falls back into one of the chairs at the nearby table, dropping his face into his hands and exhaling like he’s been holding that breath for a week. Valentine studies him. Bane isn’t that big really. A perfectly normal-looking man. Beneath the mohawk, the nail polish, the boots, the make-up, and the rage he’s actually just… this. A very stressed out and emotional creature staving off a panic attack in a conference room.  

“Thank god,” he says. “I thought I was going to come in here and you’d tell me I was crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” Valentine says, moving to lean on the table beside Magnus. “I swore an oath to protect the people of this city. That includes your people.”

“Viggo and Verity were my friends, Val.”

“I know.” Valentine places his hand again on the warlock’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve find who did this, I swear. It won’t be much longer now.”

Magnus reaches up, places his hand over Valentine’s. “Thank you. That… it means a lot.”

“No thanks needed, Magnus.”

The warlock looks up at him. Hmm. Valentine is old enough now to admit there are a few things he enjoys and one of them is having beautiful people looking up at him. Magnus Bane is one of the most powerful people in this hemisphere and he is, objectively, beautiful and right now he looks… ragged, exhausted, like he’s been in a fight recently, his make-up smeared from sleeping in it or going all night not sleeping and wearing it. His dark hari is touch-wrecked, the style ruined, his clothes rumpled. One could almost imagine this is what he looks like after someone fucks him.

Valentine wonders, idly, if Magnus’ cat eyes come out during that kind of thing or if he hides it.

“It is needed,” Magnus says. “The Clave needs more people like you. Looking for this. You understand. No one is infallible. Even nephilim are human and humans care capable of terrible things.”

“I know.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, Magnus. You’ve done enough.”

Magnus stands up and before Valentine can do anything about it, the warlock pulls him into a tight embrace.

“Really, Val.” He seems overwhelmed, his voice raw. “Thank you. I know I can trust you to make this right.”

The warlock is surprisingly sturdy in Valentine’s arms. He’s so… grateful. He’s leaning against him, his head tucked against his shoulder and its very odd how human Magnus can seem. How pliable. Valentine wonders what he could do with gratefulness this complete as he stands there, comforting one of the most dangerous men in New York, imagining the look on the half-breed’s face the day he realizes the mistake he’s made. He thinks it would be so… correct  if Magnus would just fall to his knees right now.

Not for that (well, maybe for that) but just because that seems natural.

Magnus Bane built so many things for the Clave – the Portal systems, the ward walls, the rune apps, so many things. He’s so useful. He’s also still hugging Valentine long past it being strictly appropriate and Valentine should really let the warlock go. But there is something… about this. Knowing. Holding complete power over someone who has no idea, particularly someone as individually powerful as Magnus Bane – the vicious one, the summoner, binder, ward-worker.

Valentine suspects he could, if he wanted to, pull the warlock around and pin him to the table and he wouldn’t do anything to stop him. He won’t do anything to stop Valentine until it’s too late, the trap closing around an animal. There is a standing order, actually, not to kill Magnus if possible but to subdue him because of all the warlocks in New York… he’d have a place in the new world.

On his knees, of course, but a place.

“It’s going to be okay,” Valentine says, the way Luke or Jocelyn might. “Don’t worry, Magnus. You can rely on me.”

“I know.” He hugs the shadowhunter more tightly. “I know you won’t let me down.”

Valentine smiles.