#But I also wanna show off how pretty I made my apt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 9 months

Note

DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼

SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.

explicit (18+) | 1.5k words

part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far

This is how it is with Miguel.

Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.

And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:

What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?

It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.

Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home.

You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail.

(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle.

On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.)

For now, though–

For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth.

“You been working out, Mig?”

“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off.

“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through.

“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.”

“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Of course.”

His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit.

The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity.

It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether.

“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.”

No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence.

“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you.

“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless.

“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.

“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”

“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”

“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it.

That is, until–

“What do you need?” He asks.

Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival.

“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer.

And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.

“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.”

And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.

566 notes · View notes

approximately20eggs · 2 years

Note

walks in

hi hi hello i am here to choose for you and ask about an oc of yours <3

i would love to hear about immerlias if you have any facts you'd like to share!!!

hello hi hi!!! the boy!!!!! good choice!!!! thank you for asking me about him :) this turned out to be SUCH a long post so I'm gonna put it under a readmore so I don't clog up people's dashboards with my fucking essay lmao

so I've actually been wanting an excuse to break down S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W by mcr and why its actually conveniently written about Immerlias so I think I will do that ehehe BUT also I just wanna ramble about him in general so I shall do that first

so. I do not remember how much information about Immerlias I have shared on him before. but he is my beloved. my son. my bestie. you surely understand /lh

some general info: Immerlias is a shining elf andhis name means sunlight and joy! he is aro ace and agender but also simultaneously a cis boy and his pronouns are he/him but he honestly doesn't really care what people refer to him with! I feel like he'd get a kick out of the occasional they/them or neopronoun, as a treat, but not enough to "officially" use them or anything. I do not think he would want people to consistently use other pronouns for him. this was meant to be a short detail and now its not lol

he is also babey. something about this man sets off everyone's protective instincts I swear and I KNOW this because in every rp and dnd game I have put him in, people IMMEDIATELY snap to "precious boy must be protected" mode within minutes. he is just so good at winning people over with his sweet, adorable smile and autistic adhd swag. I don't blame anyone for this because if I had only just met him I would probably default to that too. unfortunately I am subjecting him to The Horrors instead /lh

he's just super super sweet and adorable and my favorite way to show it is literally just to describe what his bedroom looks like because it is just. in every way an example of the kind of person he is. it is messy and stuffed with every last little thing that makes him happy. he painted the walls yellow and keeps repainting his ceiling in different murals and he puts poems and art up on the walls and draws directly on them sometimes and every surface is stuffed with trinkets, most of which are broken things he's picked up off the ground and shined up or made into art or just thought were pretty, and he collects shards of broken glass to sand and polish away all the sharp edges and wrap them in wire and hang them in his window so they through rainbows all over his room, and his bookshelves are stocked with everything from picture books to highly advanced math textbooks because it all brings him joy, and sometimes he spills ink on his desk but he'll just draw around it and make art out of it, and god I could go on all day describing his room but hjhghghjshghbvbhsgvsvjhgjhs

(also he has a little hidden spot under the floorboards that he's made without telling anyone that's just big enough for him to crawl into and hide and I think that's also very apt because as much as Immerlias appears to wear his heart on his sleeve there's also a lot he doesn't tell anyone. this whole room is a symbol I swear)

god this is getting long. I apologize in advance because I still haven't talked about S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W lmao

I am going to get into that actually SO I'm just gonna. put up each verse and then talk about it jbjksbjks

[Chorus] Move your body when the sunlight dies Everybody, hide your body from the scarecrow Everybody, hide

[Verse 1] Make a wish when your childhood dies Hear the knock, knock, knock when she cries We're all alone tonight Hold your breath when a blackbird flies Count to seventeen and close your eyes I'll keep you safe inside

so I'm putting these two together because I intend to break down the chorus fully later but it feels illegal to skip the intro of the song. so starting with verse 1:

GOD ok so. this is perfect. if you didn't know my wip starts off with Immerlias and Aryaea coming of age so this is very apt lol. BUT this is especially good for Immerlias because his whole character arc is about growing up and losing his naivete. he's been sheltered his whole life and then at the start of the book for the first time he and Aryaea are leaving town and their parents altogether (getting a bit into the third line there lol) but YEAH from line one it's very good!! line two is also good though because Aryaea goes to him for support a lot and you can also jump to the last line in the verse which makes me think about that again because they keep each other safe a lot. they're very codependent you see, as fictional twins have a tendency to be /lh

(you know, for once I think it would be very funny to have a pair of twins that just fucking hate each other but also aren't mortal enemies. just twins that they're each like "ugh, Steve again" at each other or something. I think it would be funny. anyway)

BUT besides the first line the OTHER line that made me immediately think of Immerlias when I first heard this song is in this verse too!! I don't know if I've ever mentioned this but Immerlias is fucking terrified of crows. which has plot reasons. it is Auresmus's fault. basically bc of zem Immerlias has nightmares about crows (elves are not supposed to be able to have nightmares at all) so that freaks him out a lot!!! it's kind of led him to firmly hold the belief that crows are harbringers of doom in real life too so he will have a full-blown panic attack if he sees one or even hears them cawing. anyway, moving on:

[Pre-Chorus] He burns my skin Never mind about the shape I'm in I'll keep you safe tonight Yeah, yeah, shut up and run with me!

I'm just gonna. that last line there I'm just gonna focus on it really hard for a moment because Immerlias IS arguably running away from home at the start of the novel. besides the fact that he's kind of tired of being coddled, he and Immor have a history of butting heads and frankly due to a lot of communication issues in this family Immerlias doesn't exactly believe his parents are proud of him. he also has this perception of his parents' expectations of him that are both a lot higher and completely different from what they actually are; while Immor and Regaya genuinely just want a happy life for him he's convinced that he's going to disappoint them if he goes into the arts instead of something more academic in nature, and frankly he's kind of convinced he's already disappointed Immor by not being remotely interested in joining the military (very false. if anything Immor is thrilled his son is relatively safe from the horrors of war). not only all of that but completely unrelated to family communication issues I do think he's trying to procrastinate growing up a little. typically at age 50 shining elves would start building a house of their own and/or start pursuing a career, but Immerlias isn't ready for that, in no small part because he's conflicted about what he wants to do with his life, because even with his parents out of the equation he loves math and STEM easily just as much as the arts and he doesn't want to pick one over the other. so yeah he's running away from all that with Aryaea for a little bit! ok moving on again

Move your body when the sunlight dies Everybody, hide your body from the scarecrow Everybody, hide Move your body when the sunlight dies Everybody, hide your body from the scarecrow Everybody, hide

ok so to start ANY song that says something about the sunlight dying or the world losing its color/light/saturation or whatever immediately reminds me of Immerlias. this is both because of tdi campaign Immerlias (in which he literally died. L) and because of his actual canon arc in my wip which does not in fact involve his literal death so much as him going through a depressive episode and struggling with his sense of identity (his name does mean joy, after all) and then having to redefine that happiness for himself when he doesn't have that childhood naivete that made it so easy anymore. I'm really, really looking forward to writing that arc out but alas it is a long ways away </3

all the references to the scarecrow also make me think btw, bc it's not a reference to the blackbird in verse 1, but something different. you can think of a scarecrow as something that exerts control over crows, in a way, which makes me think of Auresmus—and for a significant chunk of the book he does seem like a pretty big threat in need of being avoided! but if we think of the crows as being representative of Auresmus themself rather than zem just being in control of them, then you also get something that 'scares crows,' or that scares Auresmus, and that's the actual threat—the dragon that he owes a debt to, who is the actual antagonist of the novel, not zem. I think it's an interesting thing to consider :)

[Verse 2] Blow a kiss at the methane skies See the rust through your playground eyes We're all in love tonight (All in love tonight) Leave a dream where the fallout lies Watch it grow where the tear stain dries To keep you safe tonight

this verse makes me think a bunch about Immerlias's optimism and more about his arc with having to redefine joy and all that. the whole childlike, happy-go lucky attitude doesn't really cut it for some things (such as the impending doom of the apocalypse) but it still takes him a while to like. process the situation that is the plot and see it all in a realistic, grounded light that's not just blindly believing it will all work out okay in the end. and that's what kicks off his depression spiral but at the same time he has to work though his whole identity crisis and an increasing rift between him and his ability to keep in touch with reality on a more existential level if that makes any sense at all and he's still trying to work out his personal future and dreams with all this and yeah. yeah. its a whole thing

[Pre-Chorus]

[Chorus]

[Guitar Solo]

[Bridge] Love, love, love won't stop this Bomb, bomb, love won't stop this Bomb, bomb, love won't stop this bomb Run, run, bunny, run Run, run, bunny, run

[Chorus]

again this whole thing with like "love won't stop this bomb" makes me think very much about how he loses his naivete (and this verse particularly calls to mind his staunch pacifism, which isn't a problem in and of itself so much of the lack of nuance he has about it at the start) and has to work towards solving the problem that is the impending apocalypse without just trusting in Peace And Love On Planet Earth Quapara <3

and that is the end of the song! god that was fun. I haven't had a good long-winded infodump in a while

thank you again for asking about him, friend. I hope you enjoyed my essay kjbsjkbskjsjks

#oc: immerlias #asks #multivariate calculus or something idk #:)

3 notes · View notes

jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)

“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹

I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen.

I picked it up and inspected the damages.

There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.

MC: Can this… still be saved…?

Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.

Osborn: What a big commotion.

Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?

I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.

MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.

Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.

He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.

MC: Is it too damaged to fix?

Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.

He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.

This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.

MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?

Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?

MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?

MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?

Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.

Osborn: You want to help me fix it?

MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.

MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?

MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?

He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.

Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.

Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.

Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.

The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.

MC: Oh, okay.

Osborn: Take it.

My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.

Osborn: I'm waiting.

I took the toolbox from him and opened it.

I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.

I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.

MC: What's this?

Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.

MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.

Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...

Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.

Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?

MC: Not for now.

Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.

MC: Okay.

First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.

This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.

When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.

Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?

I hesitated.

MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.

MC: I don't know if it works the same…

Osborn: See my demonstration first then.

He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.

I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.

Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.

He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.

It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.

Osborn: Get it?

MC: Mmhm...

I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.

After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.

MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?

Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.

My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.

MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?

Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.

Osborn: I'll think about it.

MC: Does this even need to be considered?

MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!

MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!

Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.

The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.

MC: What's wrong?

Osborn: You got something on your face.

I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.

Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…

MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!

Osborn: What gives?

MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!

Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?

Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.

I was taken aback, nonetheless.

MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!

Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!

MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!

I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.

Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.

And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.

Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.

MC: No moving!

Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.

Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.

MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!

MC: No use trying to escape!

I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.

MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?

Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.

Osborn: An air drawing?

MC: Dream on!

Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.

MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.

MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~

Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head.

I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.

❖☆———————————★❖

I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder.

Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.

Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.

The surroundings lapsed into silence.

I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.

I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.

I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Done?

I nodded.

Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?

Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?

I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.

MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!

He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.

Osborn: Happy now?

MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.

Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.

He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.

I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.

MC: ...What is it?

Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.

Mitt: Meow~ Meow~

The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.

I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!

MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!

I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.

A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.

Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.

MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.

Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: Just wait and see.

Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.

I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.

Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…

In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.

Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?

The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.

MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?

I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.

Osborn: Still wanna run?

❖☆———————————★❖

I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.

The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.

Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.

After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?

Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.

Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.

Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.

MC: !

MC: I touched it! How cute…

Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?

MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.

Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.

MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!

I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.

It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.

MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.

I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.

MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.

He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.

MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?

Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.

Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.

The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.

My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?

He quirked a brow.

Osborn: Why, you know me so well.

MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?

Osborn: You can say that.

MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?

Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.

Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.

MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.

Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?

MC: Huh? Thank me?

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.

Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?

MC: ……

I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.

Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?

As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.

I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.

MC: Then, that makes me happier now…

MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…

MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.

Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?

I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.

At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.

The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.

Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.

I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #黑色对峙 #Black VS Black

128 notes · View notes

binunus · 3 years

Text

college bf!rocky

a/n next is our rock and aegyo king sorry sanha park minhyuk !! also I was going to post this yesterday :( but me and my roommates got a little too lit for valentine’s and I literally sat for 7 hours straight in zoom so I couldn’t finish it until now but !! I hope you loves enjoy!!

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ word count: 4.9k

_________________________________

alright aright alrightttt

we’re gonna switch it up a little bit

add a little flavor

because as much as I would love to say that college bf!astro all got their partners in a cute and smooth sailing way

we all know relationships aren’t that easy

but before we get into how you and rocky met

major: dance

are we surprised? no

rocky is a prodigy in dance

he’s been dancing since he could walk

he started choreographing at age 6

it just made sense for him, like even his parents were like go pursue dance, you’re not a law or business type of kid

he can master any type of dance from jazz, to ballet, to street, to contemporary, to tango, whatever you can think of

he’s roommates with music tech!jinjin

jin literally takes care of him all the time bc rocky??? when he comes back to the apt after dance practice?? dead weight

only passes his gen ed classes bc eunwoo tutors him

if it weren’t for the boys, rocky would literally live in the dance studio

they make sure to drag him out for fun and food at least once a week

or they join and keep him company while he’s practicing

have they gotten noise complaints before while messing around in the dance studio? yes

rocky is loud alright, especially when he’s with astro

he’s a perfectionist, literally will not leave the studio until he’s 100% satisfied with his progress

oh the amount of times myungjun and jin nag at him to take care of his health

now now

you’re also a dance major

people could say that you and rocky are the top two dancers of your year

gasp a rivals to lovers au??? you betcha baby

granted you switched into a dancer major your second year so rocky technically had seniority

but boom baby as soon as you made your appearance, it rocked his world

now im not saying rocky’s cocky bc obviously he’s a cute hardworking humble boy

but was he used to always being placed first in evaluations or getting the highest marks??? yeah

so the first time you placed first and he placed second??? it lit a bit of a fire in him

he’s seen a ton of good dancers in his time, but no one has ever matched his capabilities better than you

there was an unspoken rivalry between you two, everyone knew about it��

you both always wanted to upstage the other

there was always a tension whenever you two were in the same room

but like...have either of you ever really talked to each other besides side remarks in class?

and it didn’t really help that the whole dance department basically pit you up against each other to see who was really the best dancer of your year

so you and rocky never had the proper introduction to a friendship, it just went straight to rivalry

and then came the announcements for the end of the year showcase

and instead of putting on a solo, the department chairs decided to have you and rocky perform a duet

and you’ve never worked with him before so you were dreading the first time you met up

you to your roommate: ugh i can’t believe im partnered up with rocky, that arrogant rude–

your roommate: have you ever even talked to him, y/n? he’s actually very nice

you: no...but that’s what he wants you to believe!

your ego sorta just went along with the whole thing

and rocky was 15 min late to your meeting bc he was out eating food with the guys so your patience?? very thin

literally as soon as he stepped into the dance studio, the air turned stuffy

rocky could feel you glaring at him and he just smirks??

rocky: did I make you wait long y/n?

you: yeah you did

he liked pushing your buttons?? idk he just felt satisfaction knowing that any small of action of his affected you that much

it made him feel like he was winning or whatever

and god it took literally forever for you two to decide on a song and genre of performance for the showcase

you wanted contemporary, he wanted ballet

you were literally disagreeing so much on it that you had to ask Siri to flip a coin

and then you fought and said that Siri was rigged when it chose tails (contemporary)

so you decided on a happy? mix of both

rocky at the end of your first meeting: i get that we’re not exactly friends, y/n, but we have to work together so let’s at least be professional

you: i can if you can

rocky: fine

you two literally bicker like five year olds on a playground

even the guys are like ???? why are you being so childish ???

you have 2 months of preparation until the showcase and you start meeting once a week for choreography and practice since given the assignment

you two are pretty civil for the most part, you make the contemporary parts and he makes the ballet parts and then you combine it when you meet up and see how it can incorporate and complement each other

there’s not much joking around ?? like you know how rocky’s a clown when he’s teaching astro choreography?? it’s not like that at all

and honestly you two are too caught up in your rivalry and tension to notice that your styles really match and highlight each other well??

there’s definitely a lot of “i could do this better than you” from both sides

i repeat: you are children

and then there’s this one practice where you and rocky are trying a pas de deux for the first time

(i literally looked this term up, it’s basically what jungkook and jimin from bts did during the 2020 mma black swan intro...if you haven’t seen it, watch it bc it is perfection mmm chefs kiss)

and you don’t know if it’s because you didn’t have enough momentum or rocky didn’t prep himself enough for the lift but he ends up dropping you and you both fall

and you both immediately start blaming each other for the mishap

until you lift your hand to point at him and it just hurts

it’s like a switch goes off, rocky’s immediately concerned and he’s like gently taking your hand like: holy shit are you okay??

you shake your head and you’re wincing whenever you try to move it

you: ow fuck rocky, I think it’s sprained

and he suddenly feels so guilty, like he goes silent

you: can we stop for today? I’m gonna go get this checked out, make sure it’s not broken

rocky: do you want me to go with you?

you: no. I’ll see you next week.

boy he feels so bad, he texts you throughout the course of the following week asking if you’re okay, asking your roommate if you’re okay, telling you he’s sorry that he dropped you

you didn’t respond much, not bc you felt weird texting him–well, you did a little bit shhh–but bc you were beating yourself up for getting injured a month before the showcase

you show up to practice the next week with your wrist in a compression bandage

and he doesn’t greet you with a quip like he usually does, he immediately grabs your wrist (gently) and he’s like inspecting the bandage

you: uh...the doctor said I should be careful with it for a week or two if i want it to heal faster. so don’t bitch at me if i’m not going all out

rocky: y/n...i’m so sorry...I didn’t mean to injure you, it was my fault that we didn’t execute the pas de deux

you just shrug: it was both our faults...if I didn’t fall on my wrist maybe we could have avoided this little obstacle

rocky: if I caught you correctly, you wouldn’t have even fallen

you: are we really arguing right now about this??

and then the two of you just laugh???

this is the first real pleasant interaction you’ve had with him

and you notice like wow rocky had a nice smile

you: i should be back to normal before the showcase so we should be fine

rocky: don’t push it though while we’re practicing alright? if your wrist starts hurting then stop, and don’t even think about doing any floor choreo

the atmosphere between you and rocky change after that

he becomes pretty concerned about your recovery–and maybe it’s bc he still blames himself for the cause of it

each night before your set practice days, he always shoots you a text asking how you’re feeling and how your wrist is doing

he brings ice packs, painkillers, and extra bandages during your practices just in case you need it

and you’re actually pretty touched by his concern

about two weeks before the showcase, your wrist is back to full movement and you’re like excited to actually practice to your best ability

from now on you see each other twice a week, just to get that detail and fine-tuning perfected

rocky’s still a bit hesitant to have you go full out but you reassure him that you’re fine

you both try the pas de deux again the day you take your bandage off

and you can see that he’s nervous to try it

you: rocky, i’m fully healed now. we haven’t practiced this move since the first time and we need it in our routine

rocky: but...y/n, what if I drop you again??

you: you won’t...i trust you

and you really did, that move requires a lot of trust between partners and you know? maybe it didn’t work out the first time because of the lack of trust between you two

and so you go through the full routine and rocky was holding his breath when that part of the choreography came up but you both successfully did it!! and it was a beautiful move

he was so excited at the end of the run through that he hugged you

and you were smiling too bc this was the first time you did a full run through without any stops in between

you both don’t even notice that all the hostility is gone??

and the tension suddenly changed from hatred to...dare I say it...sexual

oo baby the day of the showcase you two were hella nervous

but c’mon you and rocky were the best of the best so ofc you absolutely killed the performance

your energies literally merged as soon as the music started

every move was flawless

and you both had to face each other during your ending pose and you were just like looking at him like ??? wtf ??? did you maybe wanna kiss him??

and you know the look that rocky has in his eyes when he’s dancing

imagine that literally piercing into your soul

you got the shivers waiting for the lights to dim

you both received a standing ovation after your duet obviously

astro watching it bc they always support rocky: they’re gonna fuck 100%

fast forward to the next term bc you both didn’t really have a reason to contact each other during summer break now that the showcase was done

you and rocky had two classes together, dance research and advanced modern technique

it was then that you started to see his actual personality and how goofy of a person he was

you still had a rivalry of course, but now it was healthy

instead of trying to bring each other down, you both started motivating each other to do better

and yes you’ve always been impressed with how good of a dancer rocky was (and vice versa), but now whenever you saw him practice you start to feel a little bit of stir in your stomach and shit are you blushing??

and then you two get paired up again for your midterm evaluation

your teacher: i saw the chemistry you had for the showcase last term, i think you two would work well together for this project

and god is your teacher trying to murder you??? the theme of this midterm was “couple dance” to encourage collaboration or whatever

you were just thankful that the song choice she gave you was more upbeat and not sensual bc you know for a fact that you would not survive doing a sexy dance routine with rocky

but that didn’t stop the way your skin felt like it was on fire whenever he touched you for partner-dependent moves

this time around, you did the choreography process together and it was actually pretty fun??

you and him would bounce back ideas and joke around whenever something looked stupid

you and rocky did this by the way for reference

and then there was one late night when you two were practicing

it was around 2 am, no one else was in the music building and you both didn’t have class the next day so you two were just like fuck it let’s just practice until campus security kicks us out or whatever

you both were literally dancing for four hours, not just this new routine but old ones and freestyles as well

and then you were doing your new routine and during the part where he had to twirl and dip you, you both fall again

but no one got injured this time luckily

and you both just burst out laughing, maybe you were a little delirious at this point in the night

you: i can’t believe you dropped me again

rocky’s laughing and you both just look at each other, and he’s hovering above you right???

and your heart is beating so loudly in your chest you’re positive he can hear it

and you’re thankful that your face was already hot from dancing so that he couldn’t tell that you were in fact blushing

rocky’s like looking at you for a good minute or so and he’s just like thinking in his head: have you always been this cute?

and maybe it’s bc you guys have been getting along so well lately and the vibes are??? immaculate

but the atmosphere suddenly gets super thick and he !! just !! leans down !! and !! kisses !! you !!

and phew baby you bet that you immediately respond to it

you’re literally making out on the floor for like five minutes

and mind you, five minutes is a long time

until rocky’s phone rings loudly through the speaker and you both suddenly separate

he scurries to his phone and you sit up trying to compose yourself

jinjin: park minhyuk where are you?! it’s 3 am!!

you literally hear jinjin scolding rocky through the phone and you laugh a little bc it’s so cute how he’s getting nagged right now

rocky: hyung...im practicing...

jinjin: do i need to drag you out of there?! i’ll literally call bin to carry your ass to our apartment! how long have you been practicing huh?? have you eaten dinner at all??

rocky: okay okay I’ll come back home

he turns to you after ending the call and he’s so !! shy !!

rocky: I guess that’s the end of our practice haha...do you want me to walk you back to your place?? it’s pretty late out

you: yeah that’d be nice...hm you sure your hyung’s not gonna call a search party for you??

you’re teasing him and he just pouts

rocky: i’ll be fine

rocky walks you back to your apartment and it’s a little?? awkward??

but before you bid him goodbye he’s like: uh...the kiss earlier...sorry if I surprised you

your cheeks are hot again: it’s um...it’s okay, I didn’t mind it...it was actually pretty nice...I guess...

and rocky’s heart skips a beat and now he’s blushing: yeah...it was...i’ll see you in class then??

you: yeah, i’ll see you. text me when you get home okay?

he nods and waits until you’re safely inside and then he just starts grumbling to himself

rocky: i’ll see you in class?? could i say anything more stupid???

rocky’s adorable okay

him texting you when he gets back: im home :)

you: that’s good! good night rocky :)

he goes to the guys the day after like: i have a predicament !! me and y/n kissed !!

jinjin: that’s why you were late last night??

eunwoo: you dirty dog, doing it in the dance studio??

rocky: we didn’t do anything else hyung !!

bin: so did you ask them out??

rocky: no...i said...i’ll see you in class

myungjun: i’ll see you in class?!?! are you an idiot??

sanha: hyung even I’d ask y/n out after that

rocky: i know !! im dumb okay!! help me

sanha: you’re a lost case sorry

jinjin: why don’t you start with, hey y/n do you wanna get some food with me??

rocky: AHHHH

yes he does want to ask you out, yes he does want to kiss you again more than he’d like to admit, but he’s shy

you’re not faring any better, you and roommate were literally talking about it all weekend

the next time you see rocky (in class), you two are awkward as fuck

you both keep stealing glances at each other and then if one of you get caught, you both immediately look away

those 50 minutes of class could not go by any slower

and you were so ready to book it after the professor dismissed you but then you hear rocky call your name

rocky: hey y/n, are you free right now?

you: uh yeah! why what’s up

rocky: do you...um...wanna get some coffee with me?? or food or something??

you: do you mean like just to hang out or...uh like a date?

rocky: a date...if you want it to be

and cue the blushies again

you and rocky end up going to this cute cafe and get smoothies bc neither of you were feeling caffeine at the moment

and the whole time you two are just ??? so cute and shy and awkward with each other ???

which is such a contrast from how you two would dance together

rocky’s so sweet, really the cutest boy

gives you so many butterflies

the two of you end up going on little cafe dates before practice

and you’re all cute and wholesome

and then he turns all passionate and dominant when you start dancing

like wow alright rocky giving you whiplash or whatever

when you show the routine for your midterm, the teacher and other students give you both high praises

and he’s all giddy after class and he goes up to you: i think its safe to say that we have really good chemistry when we work together, don’t you think?

you’re smiling hehe but you wanna mess with him a little: hmm i think we’re alright, but who knows, i might mesh well with someone else

and then he’s all frowny, a little jealous: what do you mean someone else? do you make out with someone who just has alright chemistry with you??

your eyes go wide and you put your hand over his mouth: im kidding!!

rocky just smirks at your embarrassed reaction and he like tickles your sides

and then he just grabs your hand like: don’t find another dance partner y/n, just be mine

how could you say no to that??? especially when rocky’s just looking all handsome and charming and shit??? exactly. you can’t and why would you ever say no in the first place??

you and rocky dating?? biiiig news in the dance department

and even outside of it

bc lowkey rocky had a bit of a fanclub bc of how good he is at dancing, are we shocked? no

the boys are so happy for him !!

you meet his friends literally the day the two of you start dating

and you’re a bit nervous meeting them bc ofc you want them to like you, they’re his friends

but they’re so sweet...and headass

when rocky brings you to their dinner, the five of them literally start applauding at your entrance

you were so confused and rocky’s just out here with second hand embarrassment

he’s the cutest boyfriend

shy with pda in public (unless you’re dancing), most he’ll do is hold your hand

but in private he’s very clingy

loves backhugging you

he also tickles you when he wants to be a little shit

which is 50% of the time

very playful bf, will tease you at least once every day

if you two are just practicing dancing, he’ll make any sort of excuse to hold you or kiss you

asddfadsjf he’s so cute

gets very soft at night especially when you two are worn out from practice

just wants to go back to your (or his) apartment and cuddle and sleep

imagine just you two cuddling in bed after hours of dancing and he’s just spooning you and he mumbles tiredly into your shoulder: you’re amazing y/n...you’re one of the best dancers i’ve ever seen

and before, his pride would have never allowed him to say that, but now it can

not really one for pet names in my opinion, but he does call you “my y/n”

after you two start dating, you begin to call him by his real name, minhyuk

or you say hyukie

he lowkey loves it when you call him that, it’s so endearing

the guys teasing him, cooing at rocky all gross like : heyyy hyukkie

then rocky just like crosses his arms: only y/n can call me hyukie

he didn’t realize he loves couple dances so much until you and him are dating

well he only loves it because you’re his partner ofc

alright hear me out !! slow dancing with rocky

slow !! dancing !! with !! rocky !!

he dims the lights in the dance studio until it’s just a single spotlight and some slow romantic music comes on and he just grabs you by the hand and twirls you once before pulling you close and you’re just swaying side to side

and then he presses your foreheads together and he’s just looking into your eyes and gives you the softest smile

!!! im freaking out!! i want this so bad !!

that’s how the first i love you comes out

surprise, you say it first

okay but like in the moment, the atmosphere is literally so perfect, and you can just see how much he treasures you and you always feel butterflies whenever he does this, but there was just something that night that made you say it

like your chest was constricting so hard and you were thinking to yourself, i love this man

and so you just said it

and omg the smile on rocky’s face just widens and he kisses you so sweetly before he says it back

loves kissing you, your lips are like a drug to him

can literally make out with you for hours

has pushed you against the walls of the practice room just for a little make out session

ahhh here we go ladies and gents

sex !! with !! rocky !!

first and foremost, dance studio sex??? yes

especially if it’s just you two late night practicing like the first time you kissed?

mirror kink? maybe so

and bc y’all are ~flexible~, you bet he likes bending your back like a pretzel

he’s a very passionate lover, your pleasure is his #1 priority

loves foreplay just as much as the main event

but oof his hips?? grrrrr bark bark ram me over with a truck

his stroke game is so good

literally knows how to fuck you in all the right places

and his stamina??? god tier, can go at it for hours on end

into edging and overstimulation, oof you bet you’re cumming at least twice during every session

i cannot stress this enough!! thigh riding

you know he has thighs of steel

will make you cum just from riding his thigh

most of the time you guys start off slow and sweet, and then just boom it turns it hard sex

will definitely get turned on from doing a sexy dance routine

the amount of times he’s wanted to just fuck you in the middle of class bc you turned him on?? but ofc he has public decency he won’t do that

he knows you get turned on from his fingers oops

anal or vaginal fingering?? he’s all for it baby

he’s loud during sex, all the grunting, huffing, growling, oo im getting chills

not afraid to tell you how good you’re making him feel

not really into spanking, but he grips a lot, like his fingernails have definitely left some deep imprints in your hips or your ass

hair pulling?? yes, both sides receiving

okay but if you call him rocky during sex? big turn on

i can’t explain why, it just is

favorite position?? cowgirl

he loves when you’re on top of him

yes he likes seeing you try to fuck yourself on him

and then when he can’t take it anymore and just grabs your hips and thrusts up into you until your body literally collapses on him

he always tries to make you cum first but oops sometimes baby just busts a nut

yes you will probably tease him about it and then he’ll just shut you up by kissing you

on another note, no way to turn rocky on faster than sucking on his bottom lip when you’re kissing

will cuddle you after cumming, like he doesn’t care if either of you are sweaty or messy, he’s hugging you for at least five minutes

honestly becomes a baby after sex so it’s more like you’re giving him after care sksksk

the switch he makes from being a sex fiend to a clingy cuddly boy? whiplash

like you need to go to the bathroom to pee or something and he’s like: but...i wanna hug u

i would risk it all for rocky yes

anyway after graduating, rocky becomes a choreographer for this really famous dance studio and get recruited to join a highly-competitive dance troupe

you both do long distance for a little bit bc obviously he’s back home but you have to travel with your group for competitions, sometimes even internationally

and so that caused some strain in your relationship bc distance sucks, but you would always make sure to call him every night before going to bed and despite any time zone difference, he would always answer

your biggest supporter !! literally flew out to surprise you during a big dance competition in london or whatever and you cried happy tears bc was he really there right now??

that’s when you knew that he was the one :’)

you spent the night w him in his hotel room and after a good couple rounds of reunion sex, you were like trying to test the waters a little bit: i missed you hyukie

rocky: i missed you too, but now that you’re here with me, nothing else matters

you: what do you really think about this long distance thing??

rocky: it sucks...but i know it made us stronger. i feel like we can get through anything now

you: yeah, i agree

rocky getting paranoid: omg why? are you thinking of living abroad?? y/n, do i need to start looking at dance studios out here??

you have to hold in your laughter bc he’s so cute: why? would you move out of the county for me if i wanted to??

rocky: i mean...if you’re thinking of leaving for good...then yeah.

he gets so shy and quiet and you’re just !! wow you love him !! he’s yours !!

you kiss him shortly and you smile: no, i’m not gonna live abroad. I miss being home and I miss seeing you all the time. I told you before, I’m thinking of leaving the troupe in two months and then gonna find a job back home for good.

he lets out a sigh of relief: you scared me a little

you just laugh: I only wanted to confirm something and hmm I was right

rocky: what did you wanna confirm??

you being a confident baddie: that I wanna be with you for the rest of my life

rocky feeling his heart implode: you mean it??

you scoffing: why would I be lying about this?

he just laughs and kisses you: I wanna be with you too...I’ve been thinking it since the last time you visited. How much I love you and how much I hated seeing you leave for who knows how long, but I didn’t wanna say anything bc you’re still living your life and I didn’t want a promise like this to influence you to come back if you didn’t want to yet.

two months later you’re back for good and move in with rocky

you end up becoming a choreographer at his dance studio too

you and rocky: the couple™

and you live happily ever after

somewhere down the line...

sanha: hey remember when you two hated each other?

eunwoo: remember when you injured y/n??

bin: remember when you freaked out to us about your first kiss together

myungjun: and you said i’LL sEe yOu iN cLaSs

jinjin: those were fun times, right hyukie?

rocky: i hate you all

__________________________________________________

2-16-21

129 notes · View notes

randomficsandshit · 4 years

Text

Bellarke Fic Rec

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE*

Please do not forget. I have not written any of these. I’m simply recommending favorites of mine over the years. If you love something, send the author your love, not me :) and if any links don’t work, send me a message and I’ll see what i can do, this is a pretty old list

There's A Nap For That

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Based on that post: "If you both agree to take a nap instead of going out, it’s a date." Or: The one where Bellamy and Clarke keep taking naps together. You know, platonically. See also: Let Them Rest.

If You Wear A Dress and Have an Animal Sidekick, You Are a Princess

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Bellamy can't not take care of every animal he sees, and Clarke can't not find it endearing.

*Mouth Like Heaven, Kisses Like Stars

Word Count: 4k+

His eyebrows are knitted together in a slight frown, the kind he usually gets when he’s trying to work out a difficult problem. Finally, he meets her eyes again and says, almost hesitantly underneath his mask of bravado, “Well, I’m always here to lend a helping hand if you need it, princess.” Clarke actually chokes this time, and it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of her. -or, the time when everything goes downhill and bellamy just goes down.

Wingwoman

Word Count: 1k+

AU. Clarke didn't think she'd need a wingwoman at the park playground when she's babysitting her one-year-old niece, but then Bellamy Blake strolls up, and Amelia rises to the occasion, luckily for her.

When Love Hits (Better Make It Worth The Fall)

Word Count: 4k+

AU. (She's All That) Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

All This Time

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Four times Bellamy innocently kisses Clarke, + one time he doesn't.

Take This Heart

Word Count: ~

clarke moves into bellamy's room. this is both soft and full of disdain for clarke's terrible... everything in season 3

You're Cool On The Internet, At Least

Word Count: 9k+

AU. Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

(One of my personal favs)

We Came Out On Top

Word Count: 11k+

AU. “How can you guys be all like this and then be at each other’s throats during trivia night?” “Because it’s trivia night,” both Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, sharing the same why don’t you get it tone. Bellamy, Clarke, and the trivia night rivalries only they care about.

She Does What The Night Does To The Day

Word Count: 5k+

AU. He assumes she would just giggle and continue petting him while saying how pretty he is, but instead, she pulls back with what might have been a leer had she not been three sheets to the wind, and says, “Your body is 65% water and I’m thirsty.” And then if that wasn’t bad enough, she stumbles out of his arms and fucking winks at him. Or at least he thinks it’s a wink. She used both eyes instead of one. or, the one where Bellamy is woefully and terribly oblivious.

The Giant Squid's Got Nothing On You

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Objectively, Clarke knows she’s probably right, but she still can’t help but lift her chin determinedly and say, “He is not going to find it.” She can barely hear her scoff in reply over the din of the cafe. “Yeah right,” says Raven, “The internet is forever, Clarke Griffin. He will find it eventually.” or, Clarke finds her new muse at the local cafe

Alone Together

Word Count: 11k+

AU. Clarke shows up at Bellamy’s apartment at exactly two minutes to midnight on a Thursday. He's not sure how she ends up staying the night — or why he doesn't turn her away, when it happens again. And again.

Cold As The Wind Blows (so hold me in your arms)

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Clarke gets trapped in the storage room overnight, but at least she's not by herself.

Tequila Regrets

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Clarke and Bellamy have been roommates for a while, and Clarke has been in love with him for almost as long, but when she finds out that his terror of a boss has marked him as her next conquest, Clarke offers to pose as his fake girlfriend for the staff Christmas party to scare her off. She did not think this all the way through.

Mutual

Word Count: 6k+

AU. As acts of rebellion go, Clarke knows that getting a tumblr is both minor and pathetic. But it's her secret, her own tiny, online space where no one knows she's Clarke Griffin, Hollywood A-lister. She's just some nobody with like five followers and opinions no one cares about. And then she makes a friend.

Wish On Everything

Word Count: 11k+

AU. It's not as if Bellamy wanted anything bad to happen to his mother. All he wanted was to get custody of his little sister, so he'd know she was taken care of. And after eight years, he's basically given up all hope of that. Then his mother does die, and social services tells him he gets Octavia.

Legs Crossed Towards Each Other

Word Count: 7k+

It starts with Raven wanting to set up Mr. Sinclair, out of what are probably genuinely good intentions. It's everyone else who turns it into a massive headache for Bellamy.

What The Hell Is The Catch?

Word Count: 6k+

Bellamy gets tickets to take his AP US History kids to Hamilton, and Clarke figures he's going to need a chaperone. She's happy to help out. And if he says she owes him for it? Totally worth it.

If You Wanna Reach Me

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Clarke: So yeah, in the dream it's like We're in New York, I think. I'm not really sure, but you know how it is when it's a dream and you just know something. So we're in New York.

Jasper: whos we??????

Clarke: Most of us, I think? It's always kind of hard to remember when it's a dream. Like I just thought "everyone's here!" but I mostly interacted with Bellamy.

Raven: did u mean: real life

Time Enough For Rocking When We're Old

Word Count: 14k+

boston > boston/camb/brook > housing > apts by owner $2-300 Roxbury small room in 3-br 1-bath house, spouse preferred (Roxbury) Pair of siblings looking for housemate. Due to extenuating circumstances I will share with interested parties, I would prefer a roommate who is willing to get married for legitimate personal reasons that do not include sex or anything sketchy. If not interested in marriage, room still available for $300/month plus utilities. Pets okay, no smokers, NO DRUG USE. Please don't just email me to tell me this is fucked up, I know it is, you really don't have to tell me. If you are interested in the marriage part, a female spouse is preferred, but male would be okay too. I promise I will explain this if you really want details, but I'm not putting it online. Serious inquiries only.

Must Love Intersectionality

Word Count: 2k+

AU. Bellamy hates his stupid history of colonialism class, until he makes a friend. Weirdly, the friend isn't actually in his class, they just share the same desk and like to write angry notes about the patriarchy. Bellamy's a fan.

Regardless Of Warnings, The Future Doesn't Scare Me At All

Word Count: 20k+

AU. 2 Chapters. After an argument with her mother about her unplanned pregnancy, Clarke Griffin ends up back in the small town where her father used to live, spilling her sob story to a sympathetic bartender. And then, somehow, she ends up moving in with the bartender and her brother.

(You Might Find) You Get What You Need

Word Count: 20k+

AU. Clarke needs a date to her ex's sister's wedding, and she's at the point of hiring someone off the internet when Octavia points out that her brother is always looking for money. So Clarke takes him instead.

Just As You Are

Word Count: 10k+

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Clarke Griffin in need of a Latin tutorial partner will always end up paired with Bellamy Blake.

I've Been Dreaming Of You From The Other Side (I Know You So Well)

Word Count: 17k+

AU. Ten years ago, Clarke found out she had superpowers. Now she's all ready to start a new life: English teacher by day, vigilante by night. All she has to do is figure out how to be a superhero, avoid getting caught and shipped off by mandatory metahuman registration, and not strangle the stupid history teacher down the hall. It'll be fun.

She's Touching His Chest Now, He Takes Off Her Dress Now

Word Count: 26k+

If Clarke had thought arguments could actually lead to switching bodies with someone, she wouldn't have been surprised this one really did. But since that's actually impossible, waking up as Bellamy Blake is still a shock.

I Know That Fortune Is Waiting To Be Kind

Word Count: 20k+

When Bellamy is eleven, his mother dies, and he finds out his father was a prince, which makes him a prince too, albeit a bastard prince. And when he's twelve, his family decides he would be a good candidate for marriage to Princess Clarke of Arcadia. Princess Clarke thinks so too, but only because he agrees to come back in ten years and help her make sure the wedding never takes place. It seems like a really good deal, when he's twelve.

And Dream How Wonderful Your Life Will Be

Word Count: 19k+

Clarke has known Bellamy Blake for two months when she finds out two completely unexpected things about him: he's married, and he has an eight-year-old son. He's also getting a divorce and he needs a roommate, and she's got a spot. It's complicated.

One Deep Breath and One Big Step

Word Count: 17k+

Clarke Griffin has been groomed for Ark University and Sigma Kappa Upsilon sorority since she was a kid, and she's a little annoyed to discover, upon getting to college, that she really does like Sig-Kap. That she wants to pledge. There's just this weird thing where they don't seem to like her new friend Bellamy.

Write What You Know

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy understands every individual choice that got him to this point. He started writing erotica to make some extra money, he didn't correct the assumption that he was a woman, made up some facts about his new persona, and now his publisher wants him to start making public appearances, so he needs someone to be that persona. And Clarke really is the logical choice. It all makes sense to him, when he thinks about it, but he will admit it is incredibly weird. Luckily, Clarke's still got his back.

When Can I See You Again?

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy doesn't recognize a lot of people he meets at conventions, even if he's met them a lot. It's just hard to keep track. But the girl who comes once or twice a year is pretty easy to remember. And that's before her foster mom shows up in a panic because she took a bus to Vegas alone. After that happens, it's basically all over.

But They Ain't Doing It Right

Word Count: 14k+

“So,” he begins, running a hand through his hair. It’s a lost cause trying to work it back into some semblance of order. “What is this?” “What do you mean?” He doesn’t meet her eye when he says, “Once is a mistake, twice is a pattern,” too busy picking at a loose thread in his hem. “Wanna go three times and just make it a habit?” she jokes weakly, and his head snaps back up, eyes boring into hers. She flushes under the intensity of his gaze. “Actually,” he begins slowly, “That doesn’t sound that bad.” or, the friends with benefits au that got away from me

Phone A Friend

Word Count: 7k+

Clarke does not ask Bellamy for tips on having a threesome because she's hoping to have a threesome with him. He's just the only person she knows personally who has actually had a threesome, so he seems like her best resource. And when the opportunity to have a threesome with him presents itself, it's not like she's going to just say no.

I'm Swept Away and My Heart Ensnared

Word Count: 15k+

Raven hums low in her throat. “Well, at least Bellamy can make it up in time. So you won’t get too axe murdered.” Clarke wrinkles her nose, leaning on the banister of the upstairs porch. From here she can see the ocean, just a five minute walk away, and she breathes in brine soaked air. “He’s still coming?” “What do you mean if he’s still coming? He didn’t say anything otherwise.” She shifts from foot to foot, feeling herself colour slightly even though there’s no one there to see her. “I just assumed that because you and Miller couldn’t make it up anymore he wouldn’t come today.” “Why the hell did you think that?” “Because Bellamy and I aren’t exactly friends, Raven." or, Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin don't really like each other. Or at least that's what they tell themselves.

Afraid To Call This Place Our Own

Word Count: 22k+

(Single mom!Clarke and Teacher!Bellamy, with the usual angsty shenanigans.)

And Are We There Yet (Home)

Word Count: 2k+

A Bellamy POV and mini sequel to afraid to call this place our own. (this shit made me cry)

Bloodstains and Innocence: A Clarke Griffin Mystery

Word Count: 27k+

Police Chief Clarke Griffin knows three things: 1) Charles Pike is dead. 2) Octavia Blake is the prime suspect. 3) Bellamy Blake a giant pain in the ass with no business being involved in a murder investigation, and yet here he is, working the case alongside her. A hurricane is approaching the sleepy little island of Arkadia, NC as evidence begins to mount against Octavia and Clarke wrestles with her increasingly complicated relationship with Bellamy, all while trying to answer one simple question: Who killed Charles Pike?

Is There An IUD That Can Stop The Image of You and Me?

Word Count: 8k+

It's probably impossible to be friends with benefits with someone who might not even count as a friend, but "lab partners with benefits" isn't a thing yet. So that's probably the right term. Whatever it is, Clarke's enjoying it. As long as she ignores the whole feelings thing.

I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway

Word Count: 65k+

Modern AU inspired by the show You're the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after a wedding.

And You Can Have This Heart To Break

Word Count: 37k+

Clarke knows she's being a little over-dramatic in her complaining about having to move to Maine, but it does seem pretty unreasonable of her mother to drag her to a small town in the middle of nowhere for the three months between high-school graduation and her starting college. As it turns out, the summer is great. It's just the summer ending that's the problem.

Museums and Mistletoe

Word Count: 1k+

Clarke buys Bellamy a museum ticket for Christmas and he acts like it’s the best gift he’s ever received. She buys one for herself too, because she knows none of their other friends have the time to go—finding a day they can all get together to exchange gifts is hard enough—and if it gets her an uninterrupted afternoon with her best friend and all around favorite asshole, she’s definitely not complaining.

When In Brome

Word Count: 57k+

Octavia is the one who tells Clarke about "Untitled Gladiator Project," because she thinks Bellamy wants to be on it, and also thinks Clarke is the one who will be able to convince him to do it. Plus, it turns out Clarke actually needs to be involved, because all of the gladiators are required to have girlfriends with them, and, honestly, the more she hears about it, the more of a mess it seems like. On the other hand, it sounds kind of hilarious, and definitely right up Bellamy's alley, so there's probably no harm in trying out. It might be fun.

It’s All Internet Interaction

Word Count: 11k+

Bellamy is less than pleased when soap opera star Clarke Griffin lands the lead role in the Callister reboot. So, naturally, he writes about it. It’s not supposed to blow up. She’s not supposed to respond to it either, but here they are.

Just Dive Right In (And Follow My Lead)

Word Count: 24k+

Clarke Griffin needs a partner. Bellamy Blake just happens to walk into her rink. (Or: Bellamy and Clarke as ice dancing partners, training together through the years to the Olympics.)

Sleight Of Hand

Word Count: 56k+

Notorious criminal prodigy Bellamy Blake has been tasked with a seemingly impossible heist. Luckily enough, he just might have the right crew for it. *Personal Favorite*

And Then We Were Chasing Comets

Word Count: 21k+

If you told Clarke Griffin that she would become best friends with the resident black sheep of Arkadia, she would have difficulty believing it, let alone the fact that he apparently wrote an entire book about her. (Or: Clarke and Bellamy through the years, as childhood best friends.)

See Me In Hindsight

Word Count: 16k+

“You’re kind of a mess,” He says mildly. “Thanks captain obvious.” The corners of his mouth twitch a little, like he’s holding back a smile. She is not remotely pleased by that. Not at all. Or, the one where they're project partners and maybe, perhaps, friends. (And maybe, perhaps, more.)

Challenge Accepted

Word Count: 30k+

He doesn't even like Clarke Griffin, he's pretty sure he hates how easy everything has come to her. So imagine his surprise when he finds himself at their office party looking through dick pics on her phone. “You can do better, Princess. In fact, I can do better.” As soon as she turns to him with raised eyebrows and an open mouthed grin he knows he’s said too much but she’s not going to let it drop. “Oh really, you think you can do better, Blake?” And he's never backed down from a challenge in his life.

Found Myself In A Second

Word Count: 5k+

The one where Clarke finds a lost wallet belonging to one Bellamy Blake.

Every Rose Can Sting You

Word Count: 15k+

Clarke expected to encounter annoying guys when she got forced into becoming the Bachelorette, but she didn't realise that the most annoying of them all would be the head cameraman. Because seriously, Bellamy Blake is a total prick. It's a good thing there's absolutely no chance of her ever actually liking him, because boy, would that be inconvenient…

Choking On Your Alibis

Word Count: 7k+

Bellamy gets a girlfriend and Clarke handles it spectacularly well

#bellarke #the 100 #fic rec #fic rec masterlist #bellarke masterlist #bellamy x clarke #beliza #the 100 fic #multi chap fic #one shot #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #octavia blake #eliza taylor #bob morley #the cw #fanfiction #bellarke fanfiction

199 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 6: It’s A Nice Day For A White Wedding

Summary: It’s Jake’s wedding day and poor Fliss appears to be the only sober one in the Circle Of Truth…and then that all important question is answered. Is Baby Adler Pink or Blue? (Place your bets, please!)

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW NO UNDER 18s!!) Also some pretty heavy anti-Trump ranting so if this offends anyone, sorry (but also not sorry… I think the guy is as much of a buffoon as Boris fcking Johnson)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Just so you know, I couldn’t decide whether to give them a boy or a girl…so I literally wrote both down on a piece of paper and picked.

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5 And I would answer all your wishes, if you asked me to. But if you deny me one of your kisses, don’t know what I’d do. So hold me close and say three words like you used to do. Dancing on the kitchen tiles, yes you make my life worthwhile, so I told you with a smile, it’s all about you.

Bonnie and Fliss stood in the small room at the side, the crowd of people milling around between there and the outside patio area whilst the main room was set up for the party following the conclusion of the sit down reception.

"It was a nice meal." Bonnie smiled.

"Yeah, really thoughtful of them to have the non-alcoholic wine available" Fliss smiled. “Felt nice to taste something that made me feel like an adult again.”

She looked around and her gaze settled on Frank who was leaning against the bar, his red tie long discarded, collar of his dress shirt undone. He caught her eye, flashed her a smile and then turned back to Greg continuing their conversation.

"He hasn't taken his eyes off you all day." Bonnie smiled as Fliss turned back to her. "It's cute"

Fliss smiled "You know he got me flowers yesterday. When I got back from work he had already left to come up here and when I called him to ask what they occasion was he said he just felt like it." She paused "I get the feeling he is still trying to make up for Vegas but he doesn't need to. We're good."

Bonnie grinned. "Did he tell you what he actually said to the girl?"

"I don't think he remembers" Fliss shook her head.

"Si does. Apparently he said, and I quote 'why the fuck would I want a Big Mac when I got a prime fillet steak waiting for me at home?’ “

Fliss blinked, and then let out a huge snort of laughter which attracted the attention of a few people around them.

"How fucking rude"

"She deserved it by refusing to back off the first time. Ho." Bonnie shrugged.

"I don't mean that I mean him likening me to a piece of meat. Mind you, quite apt really..." she shrugged

"How so?"

"He is constantly fucking horny." Fliss dropped her voice "Not that I particularly mind but the last week or so he's been really, really bad. Take Thursday for example. I woke up to him poking me in the back so he got a blowjob before we got up, then he fucked me on the couch that evening when Mary had gone to bed and then when I woke up to go to the loo at 2 am we did it again."

Bonnie sniggered "Maybe you're giving off some kind of sex pheromone because you’re pregnant."

"I know you're joking but..." Fliss shrugged "He’s always had a high sex drive but since I started really showing he has gotten so much worse. I think he has some kind of breeding kink."

"Must be so hard being you..." Bonnie said sarcastically "Nice man that buys you flowers and can't keep his hands off you...”

"He is the one finding it hard not me" Fliss grinned and at that Bonnie tipped her head back laughing.

Frank heard his girl’s laughter from where he was stood and watched as she tipped her head back, attracting the attention of a few of the guests with her loud cackles. His eyes scanned down her frame and back up again, lingering slightly on the gentle curve of her bump just visible under her dress as it hung over her lower body. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant knot at the base of her neck, a few strands hanging loose around her face and her eyes were lidded with a light dusting of rose gold powder, making her brown irises pop even more. The necklace he had bought her a while back hung around her neck, settling just above her cleavage which looked fucking amazing in that dress.

The moment he had seen her earlier when she had arrived with Bonnie he’d felt the all too familiar stirring in his pants that he seemed to get every time he looked at her recently. His mouth had gone dry and he’d been totally ogling her, enough to cause Greg to slap him on his shoulder and tell him, jokingly, to stop being a pervert.

Frank hadn't replied. He’d waited long enough to allow himself to open up to someone so they could see the entire shit show he was. He was happy, more than happy in fact. So as for being a pervert where Fliss was concerned? Well, he had no intentions of stopping at all.

As he watched her now, aware he was once more staring at her, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and her hand went to her silver daisy pendant, gently twirling the silver chain in her fingers before she let go, pressing her hand over the pendant in the curve just above her breasts and that was it, he was done.

He wanted her, now.

Necking the short that Greg had passed him he patted his friend on his shoulder and told him he would be back shortly before striding over the room towards the two women. As he made his way over, dodging round a few people, he saw Fliss reached out and snatch Bonnie’s beer, taking a mouthful, letting out a groan of satisfaction. Bonnie’s eyes flew to him as he approached and he put a finger over his lips, telling her to be quiet.

“Pretty sure you ain’t supposed to have that…” Bonnie chastised, her eyes flicking back to Fliss as she took the bottle back.

“One mouthful won’t hurt.” Fliss replied, her shoulders rising in a shrug. “I always take a swig of Frank’s before I hand it to him…just don’t tell him.”

“Too late.” He leaned down and said in her ear, causing her to shriek slightly and jump as his hands settled on her hips, beard tickling her cheek and neck.

“Fuck! Fran, what you trying to do, send me into early labour?” she tilted her head to look over her shoulder at him before she glared at Bonnie “You could have warned me.”

Bonnie shrugged and grinned as she walked off. Fliss wrinkled her nose and turned in Frank’s arms, looking up at him sheepishly

“That was naughty.” he teased and she grinned a little.

“It was one mouthful…”

“I’m only teasing.” He smiled, dropping his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss and she sighed. He tasted of scotch and the cheesecake that they’d had for desert. “I told you before, one glass or one bottle won’t hurt if you want one.” “No, I don’t.” She shrugged “Just wanted a little taste that’s all.”

“Yeah well, now I want a taste of something.” “What are you talking about?”

“I want you.” He said, his mouth by her ear and he felt her still slightly, her breath hitching and he grinned, planting a soft kiss to the crook of her shoulder. He knew the effect those words had on her, being wanted as opposed to needed, it was a subtle difference, but one he knew meant something to her, and him for that matter.

“What, now?” She looked at him as he pulled away, glancing around the room before he looked back down at her.

“Right now.” He nodded.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” He looked at her, “What’s the Ladies bathroom like?”

“You wanna do me in the ladies.” She deadpanned as he tugged her hand and pulled her away from the crowded foyer towards the bathroom.

“Yup.” He checked around once more to see if anyone was watching, before he opened the door and nudged her back gently with his hand so she entered the room in front of him.

“Wow, romantic, Frank.” Fliss said sarcastically as she arched an eyebrow, turning to face him.

“I’m being spontaneous.” His eyebrow arched as he backed into the cubicle, pulling her with him, reaching round to lock the stall door.

“There’s nothing spontaneous about you wanting to jump my bones” She looked up at him as her purse clattered to the floor, “You’re constantly after a bit at the moment.”

“Can you blame me Sweetheart?” he whined, looking down at her, his eye-line trained on her cleavage “You turn up…looking like that…been killing me sat next to you all afternoon. Frankie has needs.”

“My face is up here jackass!”

“I know.” he said, his gaze not moving “I was talking to Ben and Jerry.”

“Ben and Jerry.” Fliss scoffed “You named my boobs?”

“Only since they got bigger.” he grinned as his eyes moved back to hers

“Why Ben and Jerry?” she asked as his hands gripped at her hips.

“Because they’re delicious and soft like ice cream.”

Fliss snorted and he grinned at her, his eyes glazed slightly.

“You’re drunk” she stated.

“Nah ah, it’s hormones.” he said seriously.

“No.” Fliss laughed “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk. I saw you, Simon and Greg before, all necking from the hipflasks you each have in your pocket whilst they were taking the photos.” “Yeah, but.” Frank shook his head “I aint that drunk. Scouts honour.” “Like you were ever in the scouts.” she laughed, her hand brushing through his hair.

“Actually I was, you can ask the mothership.” he assured her “They kicked me out after 5 months thought. I made rude words out of a load of string that we were supposed to be using to mark out a flower bed at the old people’s home.”

Fliss let out a groan “Bean is gonna be a monster.”

“No they won’t” he shook his head “Gonna be sweet…” he placed a kiss to her lips. “…and gentle, just like their mamma bear.”

His hand moved to cup her cheek, fingers grazing her neck as he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss quickly became heated and Frank pressed up against her, the door to the cubicle rattling slightly, neither of them paying it much attention. His other hand grabbed a fist full of her dress, and he was just hoisting the tulle layers up when the noise of voices hit their ear as the door to the bathroom opened. They both stopped dead, and Fliss bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as Frank grinned down at her, his finger flying to his lips as his shoulders shook with his silent sniggers. A few doors down the cubicle door opened and they waited for whoever it was to finish. Eventually the toilet flushed and the door unlocked, before the tap began to run.

“I’d hurry up you guys…” Bonnie spoke, amusement in her tone as Frank and Fliss looked at each other, “You’ve been gone 10 minutes already.” At that Fliss burst out giggling as Frank snorted and his face dropped to Fliss shoulder where he pressed a kiss to her skin, his lips sliding up to her neck, gently nipping beneath her ear, his hands fondling her breasts over her dress. She gave a low groan and he smirked against her skin.

“Still don’t wanna?” he teased and she shook her head.

“Fine, just…get on with it then you twat.” she mumbled into his ear and he looked at her, grinning.

“I love it when you swear in British baby.”

“I can talk dirty in British too…” she quipped.

Frank gave a groan, slanting his mouth on hers as he pulled her with him, her fingers undoing his belt and trousers, pushing them down with his boxers over his hips, before he sat down on the closed toilet, taking himself in his hand and pumping himself a few times until he was rock hard as she leaned down, kissing him.

“Turn round…” he said against her mouth and she did as she was told. His hands bunched her skirt up to her hips and she reached down to move it of the way as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down, shifting her underwear to one side. In a fluid moment she sank down onto him, both of them letting out soft moans as Frank’s arm circled her waist protectively around her bump as she tipped her head back against his shoulders, his hips moving upwards.

She ground down on him, rotating her hips and he let her set the pace, more than happy to simply sit there, holding her, trailing sloppy kisses over the exposed skin on her back. The hand that wasn’t round her waist moved up to the front of her dress, slipping inside the low plunge neck line to her bra-les breast, rolling her nipple softly causing her to shudder and push down on him further.

“Fuck, Lissy…” he groaned, his forehead pressing on her shoulder “Feel so good baby girl..”

Her response was a low pant of his name as her hips moved faster, snapping back and forth as she pushed down even further, seeking out the friction she desperately needed. Her head tilted and he caught her mouth in a sloppy kiss, swallowing another moan as she pushed down further, his hands pulling her onto his lap as he fucked up into her over and over.

It was dirty, quick and in his many times with women he wasn’t quite sure he’d fucked anyone in a bathroom before, certainly an alley way or two, a dark corner of parking lot too, but it didn’t matter either way as he was damned sure it wouldn’t have been as good as this, the woman who was carrying his baby, the woman he loved with all his heart bouncing on his lap as they both raced to their ends. As Fliss tightened down, her head rolling back, she parted her lips and let out a low keen as Frank’s hand gently moved upwards, his fingers caressing the font of her throat as he held her against him, turning her head towards his so he could catch her mouth in a filthy kiss as he pushed up for a final time and came with a grunt. They both sat still for a while before he gave a little hum as Fliss chuckled as his hands wrapped around her, resting on her bump.

“You’re a bad man.” she mumbled and he grinned, giving her a quick kiss.

“Yeah but I’m your bad man.”

With a snort Fliss stood up and Frank rearranged himself, standing up and pulling up his pants. With another soft kiss Fliss told him to go out ahead of her whilst he sorted herself out so as not to attract too much attention to where they had been, even though she was pretty sure Bonnie had already told their friends.

Telling her he would meet her at the bar, with a final peck to her lips Frank headed out of the cubicle. He quickly checked his appearance in the mirror and once he’d straightened his suit and smoothed his hair down slightly he pulled the door open to be met with a round of applause as Simon and Greg stood by the pillar outside the bathroom, both grinning as they clapped.

Frank grinned as simply took a bow before the three of them laughed and Greg slapped him on the back as the three of them headed to the bar.

***** “Welcome to the dance floor….” The DJ’s voice rang out over the room “The new Mr and Mrs Neill…”

Jake swept Lisa out onto the floor and Fliss smiled, watching a the woman’s dress billowed out behind her and he took her into a hold as the opening bars to Signed, Sealed Delivered by Stevie Wonder rang out. Jake began to twirl Lisa around, the pair of them laughing a various people took photos, recording. Frank dropped a kiss to the side of Fliss’ temple and she smiled as his fingers curled around her hip.

“They look so happy.” Fliss smiled.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “Good job really, seeing as they just got married.”

Fliss smiled and then there were some giggles as Jake and Lisa’s young girls ran onto the dancefloor to join their parents, which gave the couple the signal to wave everyone else in to join them.

“Shall we?” Frank asked, turning to face Fliss and she grinned.

“Lead the way Sailor.”

They stepped out onto the dancefloor where Frank gently took her left hand in his right, his other hand curling round her back, fingers splaying at the bottom of her spint.

“Can’t pull you quite as close as I’d like.” he quipped glancing down and Fliss shook her head as she looked at him, a soft smile spread across his face “You’re beautiful.” “You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” she smiled as he twirled her around the floor, his movements upbeat in time with the song. He was actually a pretty good dancer, which Fliss knew already from the various times they’d been out, but it never failed to make her smile the way he could move so gracefully for such a tall, broad shouldered man. When she had passed comment on it once he had grinned and informed he that it was ‘all in the hips’, hips that were now easily snaking side to side as he moved in time with the music, stepping back from her a little, his hands taking hers. Fliss laughed, simply dancing along with him and eventually the music changed into another upbeat song. The pair of them stayed were they were, dancing with their friends and enjoying themselves until after about 20 minutes or so Fliss declared she was out, and needed the bathroom again before she was going to sit down.

“To pee this time, right?” Bonnie called after her. Fliss didn’t even look back, simply raised her finger up over her shoulder as she left the dancefloor.

Once she had washed her hands she touched up her make-up, glancing at her cheeks which were quite flushed from the heat and the dancing, before she headed out. Frank was waiting for her by the door.

“People will talk, you hanging around outside the Ladies.” she grinned.

“Only one lady for me.” he winked back and she shook her head.

“Smooth.” “I try.” he grinned, kissing her cheek “Wanna get a drink?”

“Yeah.” she smiled, slipping her hand in his as he led her over to the bar.

Frank ordered himself a beer, deciding he needed to take a break from the hard-stuff and Fliss a water. As she took it from him with a thanks she glanced around watching everyone dancing and milling around, cocking her head to one side, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Penny for em.” Frank said and she turned to look at him smiling.

“Nothing of interest really.” she mused “Just thinking about all this. It’s been a nice day and a lovely ceremony and clearly what Lisa and Jake wanted but…” “Not what you want.” Frank smiled “Yeah, I know.” “But what about you?” she asked, looking at him. “I know we joke about how I’ve been there and done it but…” “Liss.” he cut her off, his hand curling round her hip. “Do you really think that all this showy shit is my style?”

“No, not really.”

“Exactly.” he smiled at her “I told you, I’d be happy to run away, me, you and Mary and do it with just the 3 of us there. But I’d probably get lynched by your mom and dad so…” He pulled her into his side closer, dropping a kiss to his head “It can be whatever we want it to be.”

We.

That word hit her hard, because her last wedding had been all about how her stupid bastard of a husband wanted to show the world how rich and special he was. There wasn’t a thing about that day she had chosen for herself, including her dress and her bridesmaids. She looked up at Frank, her eyes clouding slightly and he chuckled, shaking his head at her sudden emotion.

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” he smirked, nodding to a table at the side of the room where Simon was just taking a seat. Fliss nodded and allowed him to lead her over.

As is usually the case with weddings, people flit around all over the place. Fliss found herself dancing again with Bonnie, then talking to a few of Jake’s old school friends, then to some of Lisa’s friends, one of whom had her own horse so they got caught up in a lengthy chat about show-jumping and before long she realised she’d been away from Frank for well over an hour without realising. She finished up the conversation and headed back to where he was sat at a table, animatedly discussing something with a white haired gentleman, Bonnie watching him with a slightly amused expression.

"The guy is a fahking melt..." Fliss heard Frank groan as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

"Who is he talking about?" Fliss asked as she sat down next to Bonnie.

"Trump" Bonnie replied, grinning.

"Oh this should be fun..." Fliss smirked, and Bonnie nodded.

"The guy he is talking to is apparently a big fan..." she turned to face Fliss, "But he's yet to give any kind of pro- Trump argument which Frank deems worthy of consideration. Oh, and Frank is getting more Boston with every sentence.”

“Yeah he does that.” Fliss she said, fondly turning her attention to Frank who shook his head and wrinkled his nose.

"You're being disrespectful." The man who Frank was talking to shook his head "He's our president."

Frank scoffed "Disrespectful? Not really, I just find it beyond comprehension that this country elected such a damaged, sociopathic narcissist."

"Say what you mean Frank." Bonnie nodded sagely and Fliss bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Frank was in full flow, however, and fuelled by the amount of alcohol in his system he wasn't about to stop any time soon.

"John Oliver hit the nail on the head." he continued, necking the last of his beer. "Trump could be drowning in the damned ocean and he'd there, waving the lifeboats away screaming 'get out of here, I'm very buoyant, I'm the most buoyant. Everybody talks about my buoyancy... I'm a tremendous floater' ...fahkin jack-ass."

"Who got Frankie boy talking about Trump?" Simon asked, placing the tray of drinks down and handing them out. Fliss took her Sprite with a thanks as he slid a short tumbler of scotch over the white table cloth to Frank, before flopping down on the other side of Bonnie, dropping a kiss to her cheek. Bonnie nodded to the gentleman who was now saying something back, to which Frank let out a lout guffaw of laughter as Greg settled into a seat a few down from Fliss.

Simon grinned "Come on Jack!" he spoke and the man turned to face him "It's a wedding, no politics."

"I only stated I happened to agree with his policy of putting American's first..." the man held his hands up.

"And I only pointed out that his misguided beliefs that migrants are to blame for all of America's ills are exactly that, misguided." Frank shrugged, shooting a wink at Fliss as he reached for the glass of amber liquid in front of him. "People should look closer to home...at the people who run the damnedcountry, not everyone in it merely tryin'a make a living..."

"His policies made sense when I read them..." the man called Jack shrugged. “Well thought out, articulate…” At that Frank leaned back, shaking his head, an unbelieving smile on his face as he gave a groan “Articulate…come on…”

"You kniow..." Bonnie leaned forward "A random monkey hitting keys for an infinite amount of time will eventually come up with the works of Shakespeare" she swallowed the rest of her drink. "All Trump really needs to be considered one of the greatest Presidents of all times is an infinite amount of time and a monkey that can type."

At that Frank snorted into his glass and reached over the table, holding his hand up. Grinning Bonnie hi-fived him and Simon, Greg and Fliss exchanged a glance, before Fliss leaned forward.

"You know how they measure horses in hands." she said and Frank turned his attention to his girl, his eyes shining "well he must have the biggest horses on the planet." she said, making a claw like gesture with her right hand and Frank let out another loud bellow of laughter, his hand flying to his stomach.

"And why are his eye sockets always white?" Greg asked, looking into his glass like it held the answer before he glanced round at them all. "Like, you think someone would tell him to use the sunbed without the goggles every once in a while..."

At that Jack shook his head and stood up, walking away.

"Something we said?" Bonnie asked, innocently as Simon leaned back in his chair and spoke, his talent for impressions ringing out across the table as he imitated the President's voice perfectly "I'm going to build a wall, and it will be the greatest wall ever known to man, even better than China's...my time as President will go down in history as being part of America's dumbass years, the most dumbass years ever..."

As the 5 of them laughed, Jake plopped down at the table, pointing at Simon, then Frank then Greg.

"No politics at my wedding, bitches."

"We're not talking politics..." Frank hiccupped slightly "We were just roasting the cheeto skinned, toupee wearing prick."

"His dad should have definitely wiped him on a curtain." Greg nodded, causing everyone at the table to laugh once more.

"All that sperm and he got there the quickest." Simon sighed "Makes me wanna cry."

"You know what is gonna make you cry?" Jake looked at him "My foot up your ass. Come on guys, this is my fucking wedding. Let’s go do shots and rip up the dancefloor!"

"Oooh...shots..." Bonnie nodded, standing up.

"What happened to taking it easy in solidarity?" Fliss narrowed her eyes at her, patting her bump.

"I'm weak." Bonnie shrugged as Simon tugged her to the bar, Greg rising to follow them.

"Frank?" Jake asked

"I'll pass." he smiled

"I could get em to make you an apple juice shooter?" Jake offered as he patted Fliss' shoulder. She flipped him the bird as he walked off, chuckling to himself.

Frank pause for a moment, taking in his girl's slightly flushed cheeks before he stood up, grabbing his glass which contained what was left of his short, and rounded the table to sit next to her.

"C'mere..." he said, patting his knee. She stood up and settled on his lap, his arm curling round her waist, fingers brushing the side of her bump "You ok?"

"Yeah." she smiled "Which is more than you're gonna be in the morning."

"I'll live" he smirked, necking the rest of his liquor. "No one has ever died from a hangover Sweetheart."

"There's time." she smiled and he grinned up at her, placing his glass on the table.

"How's Bean?"

"Cooking." she grinned

"And Momma bear?"

"You asked me that a few seconds ago."

"And I'm asking again."

"In that case I'm still fine." she grinned leaning down to give him a peck. Frank smiled at her as she leaned back, his hand brushing her hip as he looked around the room.

"I wanna get married." he said, looking back to Fliss.

"We are."

"No, I mean like actually do it." he smiled "I wanna set a date."

"Don't you think we have enough to organise?" Fliss chuckled "Finding a house seeing as you're so adamant you want to move before Bean arrives..."

"They need a nursery." he pouted and Fliss smiled, running her hands through his hair.

"So you tell me." she replied "And then there's actually a small matter of me giving birth..."

"Piece of cake..."

"Oh really?" she looked at him "How about you squeeze a bowling bowl out of your vagina and then tell me it's easy..."

Frank laughed and grinned up at her "You'll be amazing...you always are." he placed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "But seriously...don't you wanna marry me?" he pouted.

"No, I just took this ring because it was shiny." Fliss rolled her eyes at him "Of course I do."

"Well...couldn't we just like pick a month...so...I have some kind of marker in the sand?"

Fliss looked at him as he turned his puppy dog eyes on her and she shook her head, giving a soft huff

"You're such a soft bastard when you're drunk."

He shrugged "I can't help it. You make me feel things."

"And I don't when you're sober?" she teased.

"Shut up." he looked at her and she grinned, running her hand through the whiskers on his face. His beard was now actually pretty impressive as he'd let it grow out properly, it was way beyond the untidy, short stubble it had been when she'd first met him. But then again he was also quite far removed from that fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, lost and damaged man he had been. He'd grown, a lot. And so had she. He knew it, she knew it...and the fact they had done it together made it all the more meaningful and special.

"September." Fliss smiled "Next year. Bean will be 1 by then and things will have settled. Think you can wait that long?"

Frank beamed at her "Yeah? You mean it?"

She nodded.

"Then September 2020 it is." his lips stayed curled up at the side as she dipped her head again and pressed her mouth to his. She pulled back, and found herself mimicking the infectious smile on his face. "I can't wait to make you Mrs Adler." he whispered.

"Who says I'm changing my name?" She teased and he frowned a moment before he shrugged.

"I just assumed..."he began to back track "I mean if you don't want..."

"Frankie..." Fliss cut him off, her hands cupping his face "I'm joking. I can't wait to have the same surname as you, Mary and our little one."

"God I fahkin love you..." he spluttered and she laughed, leaning back a little bit. At that point the opening bars to Hungry Like The Wolf hit their ears and Fliss heard Bonnie shriek her name.

"Miami BITCHES, HOLLERRRR!" Simon yelled as he leaned on the back of Frank's chair.

"Shall we?" Fliss asked, standing up. Frank grinned, took her hand and allowed her to pull him onto the dancefloor. As she began to dance and laugh with Bonnie his hand fell to her hips, pulling her back against him, just like he had done all those months ago in Miami, before everything had taken such a huge change in direction. A dramatic change, but a change he was loving day by day. As he felt her push back slightly against his groin he gave a low groan and bent over.

“Stop it or I’ll be dragging you off to the bathroom again.”

She tilted her head, looked at him all doe eyed and innocent and he shook his head, arching and eyebrow.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry.” she spluttered and he rolled his eyes before she turned round to carry on dancing, this time behaving herself.

As it was getting later into the evening, after a few more 80s hits the music took a turn and dimmed into something softer, and Fliss cocked her head to the side as Frank reached out to her, pulling her to him.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It’s called God Gave Me You.” Frank said, his fingers curing around hers “By Blake Shelton. He’s a Country singer.”

“Ohh, the dude that’s with Gwen Stefani.” Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, I heard it for the first time in ages in the truck the other day.” Frank said “When we went to Tampa.”

“I thought it sounded familiar.”

He smiled, refraining from telling her he’d been playing it on a damned loop for days since because every time he heard it, it simply reminded him of her.

As he steered her around, he became lost in the lyrics, not really paying attention to anything but realising how much they stuck home, how they were true to what he felt about Fliss. How he had been a mess until she’d appeared and given him everything he didn’t even realise he needed and more. How she had fit so perfectly into his and Mary’s life. How she was now carrying his child. How he would always love her…

He felt her squeeze his hand and he looked down and she was grinning at him.

“You’re singing.”

“Am I?” he asked, giving a soft chuckle “Sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“Don’t worry about it, no one else heard. Besides you have a good voice, not like mine.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything but the other day when you were singing in the shower Mary thought Fred was stuck somewhere and crying to get out.” Fliss laughed and shook her head “Yeah it isn’t one of my talents. I’ll leave it to you.”

He smiled and gave her a soft kiss.

“You singing it to me or Bean?” Fliss asked, smiling at him as he twirled them round slightly.

“Without you there would be no Bean.” He shrugged simply and at his words he saw her eyes misting over.

“Frankie…” she muttered and he chuckled slightly, his hands cupping her face.

“Baby, what’s…”

“That’s so sweet and…” she spluttered shaking her head “Fucking hormones”

He laughed and pulled her closer, still swaying to the music and she let out a sight. Frank felt her sagging a little in his arms and then it struck him. It was almost midnight. She had been up since 8, they’d been out at this wedding one way or another for almost 12 hours now and she was 5 months pregnant.

“You tired honey?” he asked and she shook her head where it was pressed against his chest. “Liar.” he kissed her head softly.

“Ok maybe a little.” she looked up at him

“Wanna go?”

“It’s still early.” she looked at him. “I don’t mind if you want to stay, I can go and-“

“Absolutely not.” he shook his head “It’s half 11 now and I’ve drunk more than enough…Jake and Lisa won’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Course. I’ll go get call us a cab.”

When he came back Fliss was at the table gathering her purse and his jacket. They made their rounds, said good bye to their friends and Frank led his girl out into the starry sky hand in hand.

*****

All things considered, on the Sunday morning Frank woke fairly clear headed, which Fliss pointed out shouldn’t have happened with how much he had drunk. They had a lazy morning before they headed home to pick Mary up, who was full of beans about how Steve had taken her out playing mini-golf the previous afternoon. They stayed for dinner at Bill and Verity’s before they made their way home along with the 4-legged fur babies and it wasn’t long before all 3 of them crashed out, the exertion of the weekend catching up on them all.

Monday and Tuesday seemed to drag by for Frank, and there was a reason. On Wednesday they finally got to find out what Bean was. Their scan was in the afternoon and Mary once again wanted to come, especially as she knew she would find out whether it was gonna be a girl or a boy that joined their little family in roughly 19 weeks or so time. Once more she was ignored and packed off to school with a frown on her face.

Frank was like a coiled spring all morning. The guys at work teased him relentlessly about how he was bounding around the place like Tigger on cocaine but he didn’t care. He was beyond excited to find out whether they were going to have a son or daughter. At exactly 12 he finished work and headed home. Fliss was already waiting for him having changed and showered and chatting excitedly they hopped in his truck and headed to the hospital. They were early so went to grab a drink at the coffee shop- Fliss having been told to drink plenty of water as it would help with the scan, and then when they had 15 minutes to their appointment they headed up.

“Miss Gallagher, Mr Adler.” Dr Kent smiled at them as they walked in “Nice to see you again.”

They both greeted her and Fliss settled on the bed, getting herself comfortable as Frank slid into the chair by her side. After answering the questions the Doctor asked her about how she was feeling, whether she was worried about anything, all the time Frank trying to pay attention but his mind was on one thing and one thing only. Seeing his baby again.

And when that time finally came, his heart skipped a beat. On the 3D scan there was so much more detail to take in this time. He could make out the little nose, the ears, eyelashes…fucking eyelashes. A tiny hand curled by its face which twitched as their baby move slightly.

“It says here that you want to know what it is…” Doctor said, looking at them both “Is that still the case.”

“Yeah…” Frank said, at the same time Fliss spluttered.

“No, I mean yes… “

Frank frowned “Liss? I thought…” “Could you write it down for us?” Fliss cut him off, smiling at the doctor.

“Ahh you doing a gender reveal?” The woman nodded, and Frank’s frown grew deeper. They hadn’t discussed that.” Not a problem…”

The doctor looked at the screen and Frank glanced at Fliss questioningly but she softly shook her head at him and squeezed his hand, telling him silently to trust her. The Doctor smiled, and headed off to write the results down and a soon as she had left the room, Frank turned to Fliss

“What are you doing?”

“I just had a thought…” Fliss took a deep breath “that if we do it this way, you know get it written down to open later, then Mary can be there with us when we find out.”

And once again, just like that, her fucking thoughtfulness knocked him sideways. He blinked and shook his head, smiling as he brought his eyes back up to meet hers “You’re fucking amazing you know that?” Of course the only thing wrong with her plan was that they now had to wait another 3 hours for Mary to come home.

Frank collected her from the bus stop and as usual was greeted by the grumblings that she was perfectly capable of walking home across the little park on her own, to which he shot back his usual I don’t care response. She walked into the apartment with her usual swagger, tossing her bag over the back of the sofa before she wandered into the kitchen where Fliss was stood chopping up salad for dinner

“So.” she said, dramatically “You gonna tell me then or what?”

Frank looked at Fliss who smiled before he spoke “Actually, you’re gonna tell us.”

“What?” she looked at him

“You’re gonna tell us what it is.” he repeated.

“Like how?” she rolled her eyes “I wasn’t even there.”

“We got the Doctor to write it down.” Fliss explained, “And seal it in an envelope.” Mary’s eyes widened “You mean…you guys don’t know?” Frank shook his head “Fliss thought it would be nice for all 3 of us to find out together.”

She looked at him, then to Fliss, her blue eyes filling with tears a she ran to Frank, her arms circling his waist.

“Hey…” he chuckled, crouching down and looking her in the face, his hand brushing her hair back slightly as she sniffed and gave a watery laugh “We good?”

She nodded and smiled “Where is it? The envelope I mean.”

“On the coffee table.” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Can we do it now?”

“I hope so.” Frank said, looking up at Fliss “Been waiting all damned afternoon.”

“Oh hush.” Fliss replied as he stood up, Mary in his arms.

“You know you’re getting kinda big now Stack.” he grunted a little as he shifted her onto his hip.

“You’re still bigger.” she said as he dropped her down onto the floor in the living room. She looked at the envelope and when Fliss nodded at her she picked it up.

“You know…” she mused, looking at Frank “If I open this that technically means that I was the first person to know. Well, other than the doctor…but they don’t count.” Frank looked at Fliss as his arm slid round her waist. “Yeah..” he turned back to Mary “Pretty cool, huh?” She grinned at him and took a deep breath “Ok…here goes….”

Frank felt his heart suddenly become quicker in his chest as he watched Mary pull open the envelope and look at the small slip of paper inside. She read the words, looked at them both, her eyes shining.

“Wow…” she breathed out.

“You’re killing us Stack!” Frank spluttered “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a boy!”

There was a pause and Frank blinked. “What?” he breathed out and looked at Mary “Are you sure?”

“I can read, Frank?” she narrowed her eyes at him, handing him the piece of paper. With a shaking hand he took ait and looked down at the words the doctor had written on them. As he read them, “Congratulations, it’s a Boy!” they suddenly registered in his brain and he looked at Fliss who had tears in her eyes. His own eyes misted over and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Lissy, it’s a boy!”

She gave a laugh as his arms wrapped around her and he kissed the side of her head.

“Happy Sailor?” she asked.

“I can’t…wow!” he chuckled, sniffing slightly, unable to form any other words. He moved one of his arms and signalled for Mary to join them and she rushed forwards, her arms wrapping around his waist as he dropped his hand to her back, gently rubbing between her shoulder blades.

A boy. A little boy.

Although he truly would have been happy either way, as long as their baby was healthy, he’d secretly always hoped the colour would be blue. They had Mary already, and from a selfish point of view had wanted a boy to even the numbers out. Not to mention the fact he was already envisaging matching baseball caps, sneakers, sailing days, basketball, football…

He looked at Fliss who gave him a smile and his face split into an even wider grin and he leaned over to give her a kiss before his hand dropped to the side of her bump, gently skating the place where his son was growing.

***** Frank wanted to shout their news from the roof tops. But Fliss forbid him from telling anyone until they told the family first. As Evelyn would be here for the weekend they decided to have a BBQ on the Saturday evening, and share their news then. And Mary and Fliss came up with the perfect way to do it.

Evelyn arrived in town on the Friday afternoon and due to her new found ‘friendship’ (if you could call it that) with Fliss’ parents since that fateful thanksgiving in Boston, she was staying with them. Her first comment upon seeing them all was how much Fliss had bloomed since her last visit a few months ago. Fliss had grinned and commented that she felt like a hippo to which Evelyn had snorted and told her to stop being ridiculous. The 4 of them went for dinner that evening to the Italian in town that Mary liked and on the Saturday Bill dropped her at the stables to see Mary ride. Mary had now moved on from the cross poles to a foot high straight upright jump, and she was easily taking it all in her stride. Frank had long since given up trying to talk her out of it. She enjoyed it, and it was hard to deny she was pretty good at it too. Saturday afternoon they all went back to the apartment where Evelyn, Fliss and Mary whipped up some cupcake batter…something which floored Frank. He couldn’t remember his mother baking, ever. Once the cakes were cooked however, Evelyn was unceremoniously barred from the kitchen whilst Fliss and Mary put the final touches to their Gender Reveal plans. At one point Mary burst out of the kitchen telling Evelyn to look away, and as Frank looked up from where he and his mother had been glancing at a few realtor pages and properties in the local area, he could instantly see why. She had blue food colouring all over her face and hands.

Later that night Verity, Steve, Bill and Roberta joined them and after a few drinks Mary handed out the cupcakes.

“Now, you have to eat them at the same time.” she instructed “Because the colour in the middle will tell you if the baby is gonna be a boy or a girl.”

“Did you make these?” Steve looked at Fliss. She nodded.

“And no, there’s nothing special in them…” she told him and he smirked “Other than the buttercream.”

As everyone eagerly began to dig into their cakes, desperate to find out, Mary skipped over to where Frank and Fliss were stood at the side of the kitchen steps, standing in front Frank as his arm dropped looping around her chest, pulling her back towards him a little. “A boy?” Verity shrieked, the first to find her splodge of blue cream in the middle of her cake as she looked over at them all.

“Yeah!” Fliss smiled, Frank’s other arm tossed casually round her shoulder.

“God help ya’ll, a mini Frank!” Roberta quipped and he shot her a glare before the rest of the crowd of people erupted into cheers and laughter. There were a lot of hugs shared and then Mary stepped over to Bill and Steve, holding her hand out.

“Pay up, losers.”

“Yeah…Dad can you sub me?” Steve asked, “I left my wallet at home” “Course you did.” Bill grumbled as he reached into his pocket. Retrieving a twenty from his wallet he handed it to Mary.

“Erm…what are you doing?” Frank asked, having watched the exchanged.

“Last week when you were at the wedding we were talking about it and I bet them it was a boy.” Mary shrugged “I had a hunch” “And now she has twenty bucks.” Bill grumbled as Fliss gave a loud laugh.

“No she doesn’t.” Frank put his hands on his hips “Give it back.”

“No way.” she pouted “I earned that.” “You’re 9.” Frank shot back “You know it’s illegal for 9 year olds to gamble, Mary.”

“What you gonna do Frank?” Fliss asked as Mary folded the money and sticking it in her pocket “Call the feds?”

Bill and Steve both sniggered as Frank looked at Fliss before he shook his head and turned back to Mary.

“How exactly were you gonna pay if you lost?” he folded his arms. “I was planning on winning it back by betting on the name.” she shrugged.

“Double or quits.” Steve nodded in agreement.

“Stop encouraging her.” Frank pointed at him.

“Relax…” Frank heard Evelyn chuckle a little and he turned to face her, where she was sat at the outside table with Verity and Roberta “You’re in dad mode already.” “I’ve been in dad mode for the last 8 and a half years.” he shot back before he felt his eyes widen slightly.

“I know…” his mother gave him a soft smile. “Believe me.”

Fliss hand tightened around his for a second and he looked down at her, giving her a quick peck.

“I’m gonna get another beer.” he said, suddenly needing the head space. “You want anything?” “No.” Fliss smiled at him as he walked off.

Truth was he’d shocked himself a little. That was the first time he’d ever referred to his role with Mary as being a dad out loud to anyone but her or Fliss. Truth be told, he was a little worried about how she was going to react once Bean was born and how they were going to try to keep her feeling as included as they could, especially when he started talking and referring to him and Fliss as Mom and Dad, when Mary didn’t. He ran a hand over his face, opening the fridge. It was an unorthodox situation, but…well, he knew full well there were worse circumstances Mary could be in.

“She wouldn’t mind you know.” a voice jerked him from his thoughts and Frank spun to face his mother

“Who?” he frowned. “Diane.” she reached past him for the bottle of wine in the fridge “Fliss told me that’s why you get so pissy about people referring to you as Mary’s father.” “I’m not pissy about it, I’m just not her father.”

“You are in every other way bar legally being labelled as so, Frank.” Evelyn poured herself a drink “And moreover, Diane’s memory isn’t going to suddenly fade away if you were.”

“What are you-“

She levelled him with a look and simply handed him the bottle back before she picked up her glass and headed off leaving him pondering her words. With a shake of his head, deciding that was a discussion for another day, he grabbed another bottle of beer and headed back outside.

“Hey Frank!” Roberta’s shout stopped him in his tracks as stood at the top of the steps and looked over at her. “You gonna cook anything on this BBQ or what? Been waiting so damned long my clothes are goin outta fashion.” “That’s assuming they were in fashion in the first place!” Mary grinned, skipping past Frank as he walked onto the lawn, tossing a ball for Fred as he scooted off after it, Thor following.

At that Steve snorted. Roberta looked at him

“Oh hark on the British boy in board shorts.”

Steve’s response was a cheeky wink “I have been reliably informed you like men in board shorts Roberta. Do I not meet your standards?” he gave a little twirl, his arms held out to his side, a grin on his face. “I’ve seen worse.” she mused, causing Steve and Bill to tip their heads back in almost identical roars of laugher. “You ever fancy yourself a sugar momma you know where to come lookin’ honey.”

“You know, if we’re discussing questionable clothing choices…” Fliss looked up, her eyes locking onto Frank’s before she glanced at Mary “I have something to say about someone’s shirts.”

Mary let out a lout hoot of laughter as did Roberta and Frank looked at Fliss as she grinned.

With a shake of his head and a soft snort of laughter as he looked around at his family, he headed to the BBQ.

**** Chapter 7

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

74 notes · View notes

thekillerssluts · 4 years

Photo

Will Butler explains how his Harvard degree developed into his second solo album

“Yeah, it’s terrifying,” Will Butler says, pondering how it feels to be releasing music away from the umbrella of Arcade Fire.

“It’s the classic thing about all writers,” he continues. “The creative process makes them wanna puke the whole time they’re writing something, then they read something back and it makes them feel worse, then a year later they read it and think ‘yeah, it’s okay’. It’s a glorious experience, but it really makes your stomach hurt.”

On the one hand Will Butler is well accustomed to this writing process, being a multi-instrumentalist in the Canadian indie-rock band fronted by brother Win - Arcade Fire. But on his own terms, it’s an entirely new process. Butler’s second solo album Generations arrives five years after his debut Policy, a collection that rattled with a ramshackle charm and what he describes now as a ‘consciously very unproduced’ sound. Arcade Fire wound down from their Everything Now tour in September 2018, leaving Butler with the last two years of playtime. Most musicians, particularly those accustomed to big album cycles, set aside their downtime for family or other musical projects. Somehow Butler’s managed to do both while also completing a masters degree in Public Policy at Harvard.

“I went to school for a variety of reasons but there was an artistic side to it too,” he says. “I have always tried to let music and lyrics emerge from the world that I’m in; you fertilise the soil and see what grows. It was a way to better understand where we are, how we got here and what's going on. You know, ‘where am I from? What's going to happen?’” Both of these questions explored in his degree are used as fuel for Generations.

It’s easy to imagine an album by somebody who’s just pursued a Public Policy MSt to form in reams of political commentary, probably set to an acoustic guitar. However, Butler instead engages character portraits soundtracked by a broad range of thrilling sonics. Opener “Outta Here” is shrouded by a monstrous bass that lurks beneath the depths of the instrumentation before bursting out midway through. “Got enough things on my plate without you talking about my salvation,” he screams.

While the cage-rattling “Bethlehem” is mania underpinned by a thrashing guitar and bubbling synths that help lift the track to boiling point.While there’s no current world leaders namechecked or any on-the-nose political commentary across the LP, the angst of its contents is instantly tangible, backed by the intellect of somebody who’s spent the past few years studying the ins and outs of government processes. A perfect combination, you could say.

This fuel was partly discovered through Butler reconnecting with the music that defined his teenage years: namely Bjork, The Clash and Eurythmics. While these influences certainly slip into frame across Generations, they were paired with something of an unlikely muse: “I got into this habit of listening to every single song on the Spotify Top 50 every six weeks,” Butler explains. “So many of them are horrible, terrifying and just awful but there’s something inspiring about how god damn avant garde the shittiest pop music is now. Just completely divorced from any sense of reality - it’s just layers upon layers upon layers - it’s amazing. It’s like Marcel Duchamp making a pop hit every single song.”

We turn from current music to current events. Navigating Covid-19 with his wife and three kids in their home of Brooklyn, a majority of 2020 has been caught up in family time for Butler. “The summer’s been easier because everybody’s outside, whereas in spring it was like ‘it’s family time because we have to lock our doors as there's a plague outside.’” While being surrounded by the trappings of lockdown since his second solo album Generations was completed in March, the album itself wriggles with the spirit of live instrumentation, which at this point seems like some sort of relic from a bygone era."I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people."

The source of this energy can be traced back to the way the songs came together; they were forged and finessed at a series of shows in the early stages of the project. “It just raises the stakes. You can tell how good or how dumb a lyric is when you sing it in front of a hundred people,” he reflects. “It’s like ‘are you embarrassed because what you’re saying is true?’ or ‘is it just embarrassing?’ It’s a good refiner for that stuff. I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people.”

Like his day job in Arcade Fire, Butler’s solo live group is something of a family affair - both his wife and sister-in-law feature in the band, alongside Broadway's West Side Story star, and the student of the legendary Fela Kuti drummer, Tony Allen. Together this eclectic mix of musicians conjures an infectious spirit through the raw combination of thundering synths and pedal-to-the-metal instrumentation; an apt concoction indeed for lyrics that are attempting to unhatch the bamboozling questions that surround our current times.

The timing for Butler’s decision to study Public Policy couldn’t have been more perfect, with his course starting in the Fall of 2016. “I was at Harvard for the election which was a really bizarre time to be in a government school, but it was great to be in a space for unpacking questions like ‘my god, how did we get here?!’” he reflects, with a note of mockery in the bright voice.

“I had a course taught by a professor named Leah Wright Rigueur. The class was essentially on race in America but with an eye towards policy. The class explored what was going to happen in terms of race under the next president. The second to last week was about Hilary Clinton and the last week was about Donald Trump. We read riot reports - Ferguson in 2015, Baltimore in 2016, the Detroit uprisings in the ‘60s and Chicago in 1919 - it's certainly helping me understand the last 5 years, you know. Just to be in that context was very lucky.”

As we’ve seen with statues being toppled, privileges being checked and lyrics of national anthems being interrogated in recent months, history is a complex, labyrinthine subject to navigate requiring both ruthless self-scrutiny and a commitment to the long-haul in order to correct things. The concept of Generations shoots from the same hip employing character portraits to engage in the broader picture.

The writing, at times, is beamed from a place of disconnect (“had enough of bad news / had enough of your generation”), from a place of conscious disengagement (“I’m not talking because I don’t feel like lying / if you stay silent you can walk on in silence”) and from a place of honest self-assessment (“I was born rich / three quarters protestant / connections at Harvard and a wonderful work ethic”).

“I’m rooted in history to a fault,” he says. “My great grandfather was the last son of a Mormon pioneer who’d gone West after being kicked out of America by mob violence. He wanted to be a musician which was crazy - he got 6 months in a conservatory in Chicago before his first child was born. He always felt like he could have been a genius, he could of been writing operas but he was teaching music in like tiny western towns and he had all these kids and he made them be a family band and they were driving around the American west before there were roads in the deserts - literally just driving through the desert! He would go to these small towns and get arrested for trying to skip bills and just live this wild existence.”

Butler’s grandma, meanwhile, was just a child at this point. She went on to become a jazz singer with her sisters and married the guitar player Alvino Rey. “The fact that me and my brother are musicians is no coincidence,” he smiles. “It’s not like I decided to be a musician, it’s down to decisions that were made at the end of the 19th century that have very clearly impacted where I am today. The musical side of it is very beautiful, it is super uncomplicated and a total joy to have a tradition of music in our family...but also in the American context - which is the only context I know - it's also these very thorny inheritances from the 19th century and beyond that influence why my life is like it is.

“For me it’s like, ‘I made my money because my grandpa was a small business owner’ or ‘my grandpa was a boat builder and got a pretty good contract in WW2 and was able to send his kids to college’. Both of which are so unpoetic and unromantic but it is an important thing to talk about, that's a personal political thing to talk about; there's horrifying and beautiful aspects there.”

The lament of “I’m gonna die in a hospital surrounded by strangers who keep saying they’re my kids” on “Not Gonna Die” could well be croaked by somebody on the tail end of a life lived on the American Dream. At times, Butler plays the characters off against each other, like on “Surrender,” which chronicles two flawed characters going back and forth played by Butler’s lead vocals and his female backing singers that undermine his memory; “I remember we were walking” is cut up with the shrug of “I dunno” and “maybe so”. “I found having the backing voices there gave me something to play with,” he explains. “Either something threatening to the main character or something affirming to the main character, just providing another point of view.”

Elsewhere, “I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know” explores the feeling of being unsuitably equipped to unravel the complexities that surrounds us day-to-day. “The basic emotion of that song is very much ‘I don’t know what I can do’ which is an emotion we all have,” he ponders. “There’s also the notion that follows that, like ‘maybe don’t even tell me what to do because it’s going to be too overwhelming to even do anything’.”

Some of these portraits materialised in the aftershows Butler began hosting while on Arcade Fire’s Everything Now tour which found him instigating conversations and talks by local councilman, politicians and activists on local issues. “On some of the good nights of the aftershow town halls, you’d feel that switch away from despair and into action,” he says smiling. “The step between despair and action is possible, that sentiment isn’t spelled out lyrically on the record but it’s definitely there spiritually.”

“I learned anew what a treasure it is to have people in a room. Getting humans in a room can be absurd. And we were having from 5,000 to 15,000 people in a room every night, most of them local. I’m very comfortable with art for art’s sake; I think art is super important and it’s great people can like music that's not political. It was sort of like ‘well we’re here and I know a lot of you are thinking about the world and you’re thinking about what a shit show everything is. You want to know what we can do and I also want to know what we can do!’ So I put on these after shows.”"The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change."

Butler would find a suitable location near the Arcade Fire gig through venue owners who were often connected to the local music and comedy scenes to host these events. “The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change. Arguably, the most important way is through the city council and state government. The New York state government is in Albany, New York. The shit that happens in Albany is all super important so I wanted to highlight that and equip people with some concrete levers to pull.

“In Tampa we had people who were organizing against felon disenfranchisement, like if you’ve been convicted of a felon you couldn’t vote in Florida, and something absurd like 22% of black men in Florida couldn’t vote and there were people organising to change that - this was in 2018 - and you could just see people being like ‘holy shit, I didn't even know this was happening!’

“These were not topics I’m an expert in - it’s like these are things that are happening. The thought was trying to engage, I’m sad to not be doing something similar this Fall, I mean what a time it would have been to go around America.”

Understandably the looming 2020 election is on Butler’s radar. “It doesn't feel good,” he sighs. “I’ve never had any ability to predict, like 2 weeks from now the world could be completely different from what it is today. There was always a one-in-a-billion chance of the apocalypse and now it's like a one-in-a-million chance which is a thousand times more likely but also unlikely. It’s going to be a real slog in the next couple of years on a policy side, like getting to a place where people don’t die for stupid reasons, I’m not even talking about the coronavirus necessarily just like policy in general. Who knows, it could be great but it seems like it's going to be a slog.”

There’s a moment on the closing track “Fine”, a stream-of-consciousness, Randy Newman-style saloon waltz, where Butler hits the nail on the head. “George [Washington], he turned to camera 3, he looked right at me and said...I know that freedom falters when it’s built with human hands”. It’s one of the many lyrical gems that surface throughout the record but one that chimes with an undeniable truth. It’s the same eloquence that breaks through as he touches on the broad ranging subjects in our conversation, always with a bright cadence despite the gloom that hangs over some of the topics.

The live show is without a doubt Arcade Fire’s bread and butter. While Butler questions how realistic the notion of getting people in packed rooms in the near future is, he reveals the group are making movements on LP6. “Arcade Fire is constantly thinking about things and demoing, it's hard to work across the internet but at some point we’ll get together. It probably won’t be much longer than our usual album cycle,” he says.

You only have to pick out one random Arcade Fire performance on YouTube to see Butler’s innate passion bursting out, whether it’s early performances that found him and Richard Reed Parry adorning motorbike helmets annihilating each other with drumsticks to the 1-2-3 beat of “Neighbourhood #2 (Laika)” or the roaring “woah-ohs” that ascend in the anthem of “Wake Up” every night on tour. It’s an energy that burns bright throughout our conversation and across Generations.

https://www.thelineofbestfit.com/features/interviews/arcade-fires-will-butler-new-solo-record-generations

#Arcade Fire #generations #will butler #interview #hq

43 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding On Ch 6: It’s A Nice Day For A White Wedding

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Just so you know, I couldn’t decide whether to give them a boy or a girl…so I literally wrote both down on a piece of paper and picked. Also, I have to thank @southerngrace here for her idea on just how to reveal the news to Mary and their Family. Chapter Song: It’s All About You by Mc Fly (this one has ALWAYS screamed Friss at me, I’m not afraid to say it!)

Riding On Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

And I would answer all your wishes, if you asked me to. But if you deny me one of your kisses, don’t know what I’d do. So hold me close and say three words like you used to do. Dancing on the kitchen tiles, yes you make my life worthwhile, so I told you with a smile, it’s all about you.

"It was a nice meal." Bonnie smiled.

"Yeah, really thoughtful of them to have the non-alcoholic wine available" Fliss smiled. “Felt nice to taste something that made me feel like an adult again.”

"He hasn't taken his eyes off you all day." Bonnie smiled as Fliss turned back to her. "It's cute"

Bonnie grinned. "Did he tell you what he actually said to the girl?"

"I don't think he remembers" Fliss shook her head.

"Si does. Apparently he said, and I quote 'why the fuck would I want a Big Mac when I got a prime fillet steak waiting for me at home?’ “

Fliss blinked, and then let out a huge snort of laughter which attracted the attention of a few people around them.

"How fucking rude"

"She deserved it by refusing to back off the first time. Ho." Bonnie shrugged.

"I don't mean that I mean him likening me to a piece of meat. Mind you, quite apt really..." she shrugged

"How so?"

Bonnie sniggered "Maybe you're giving off some kind of sex pheromone because you’re pregnant."

"I know you're joking but..." Fliss shrugged "He’s always had a high sex drive but since I started really showing he has gotten so much worse. I think he has some kind of breeding kink."

"Must be so hard being you..." Bonnie said sarcastically "Nice man that buys you flowers and can't keep his hands off you...”

"He is the one finding it hard not me" Fliss grinned and at that Bonnie tipped her head back laughing.

He wanted her, now.

“Pretty sure you ain’t supposed to have that…” Bonnie chastised, her eyes flicking back to Fliss as she took the bottle back.

“One mouthful won’t hurt.” Fliss replied, her shoulders rising in a shrug. “I always take a swig of Frank’s before I hand it to him…just don’t tell him.”

“Too late.” he leaned down and said in her ear, causing her to shriek slightly and jump as his hands settled on her hips, beard tickling her cheek and neck.

“Fuck! Fran, what you trying to do, send me into early labour?” she tilted her head to look over her shoulder at him before she glared at Bonnie “You could have warned me.”

Bonnie shrugged and grinned as she walked off. Fliss wrinkled her nose and turned in Frank’s arms, looking up at him sheepishly

“That was naughty.” he teased and she grinned a little.

“It was one mouthful…”

“I’m only teasing.” he smiled, dropping his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss and she sighed. He tasted of scotch and the cheesecake that they’d had for desert. “I told you before, one glass or one bottle won’t hurt if you want one.” “No, I don’t.” she shrugged “Just wanted a little taste that’s all.”

“Yeah well, now I want a taste of something.” “What are you talking about?”

“I want you.” he said, his mouth by her ear and he felt her still slightly, her breath hitching and he grinned, planting a soft kiss to the crook of her shoulder. He knew the effect those words had on her, being wanted as opposed to needed, it was a subtle difference, but one he knew meant something to her, and him for that matter.

“What, now?” she looked at him as he pulled away, glancing around the room before he looked back down at her.

“Right now.” he nodded.

“You’re serious.”

“Deadly.” he looked at her, “What’s the Ladies bathroom like?”

“You wanna do me in the ladies?” she deadpanned as he tugged her hand and pulled her away from the crowded foyer towards the bathroom.

“Yup.” he said, checking around once more to see if anyone was watching, before he opened the door and nudged her back gently with his hand so she entered the room in front of him.

“Wow, romantic, Frank.” Fliss said sarcastically as she arched an eyebrow, turning to face him.

“I’m being spontaneous….” he said, backing into the cubicle and pulling her with him, reaching round to lock the stall door.

“There’s nothing spontaneous about you wanting to jump my bones” she looked up at him as her purse clattered to the floor, “You’re constantly after a bit at the moment.”