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Open Wounds Never Heal

Certain images credited to @randomagnes0210 on Pinterest

Disclaimer: This and all works on this blog are a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. This work and all works on this blog are not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content, adult content and themes, language, etc. By reading this work or any works posted, shared or reblogged on this blog, you agree that you are at least 18 years of age.

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Warnings: Adult situations/themes, smut, sociopathic behavior, violence, NSFW, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! (Warnings apply to all chapters.)

A @spectre-posts & @what-is-your-plan-today Collaboration

What is Dead Masterlist

W/C: 6.4k

Chapter 3 – Shades of Gray

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

Two days after you'd sat through dinner together, you were at it again over breakfast. Arguments and insults flying through the air. This time the squabble had been about repeated requests to use your credit card to fill his closet with the designer threads he always had a flashy eye for. So, there came a mutual agreement. He had an allowance, a small one, to order from a store in Rome. It had to be done using Loretta's card, shipped to her for pick up at the local post office in the village.

You’d instructed him clearly enough; “completely off radar, start small, just a few items so as not to attract attention.” He’d completely fucking ignored you and ordered almost four-thousand dollars’ worth of items for same day courier. Loretta had been so upset when you’d exploded after she’d shown up that afternoon, arms laden with packages that kept coming out of the back of her VW Polo you’d gotten her as a bonus one year. Then she’d shown you her statement, her card maxed out to the limit. The poor woman had been under the impression you’d told Lloyd he could get what he wanted. Then, as you were laying into your prick ex-husband for that, the groomer had shown up, unannounced. Lloyd claimed he forgot to tell you he was coming. You called bullshit, grabbed a bottle of wine, and fucked off out to the pool to get away from him and his incessant ‘couldn’t give a shit’ attitude.

An hour later, his hair was cleaned up, the longer strands at his crown were slicked back and trimmed. The rest shorn close. Of that, you approved, although you’d never admit that to him. However, the mustache remained, standing out against his light skin, smooth cheeks twitching as he smirked.

Overall, despite your outward display of anger, you couldn’t deny that your ex-husband’s attitude improved almost immediately once his hair was back to his preferred length, and he could return to wearing those godawful tight slacks, the sockless shoes, the abhorrently designed shirts.

Now you were once more at the dinner table, little over eight hours after the breakfast over which you’d given him the allowance he’d so carelessly ignored. You glared at him as he sat smugly with his hands folded, elbows resting on the lace tablecloth.

"You look ridiculous," you snorted as you looked him over. And you meant it.

Tonight's choice of pants and polo combo was a mishmash of black, orange, white and browns. Perhaps on someone else of his stature and features, it'd be remarkably handsome. On Lloyd, it was loud and trashy. Perfectly poised to match the poisonous caterpillar on his lip.

"No, I look like me. Not something you think you can play dress up with. That's what the kid is for." He dropped his hands and picked up his wine, drinking it like he'd made the most important comment ever; a dig at you and the fact that you seemed, to him at least, like you wanted to playhouse while Claire stayed with you.

"She's not even here yet and you're already miserable at the prospect of not being my top priority. You poor little thing," you scoffed.

Before Lloyd could sneer his reply, a man, finely dressed in an all-black suit, brought you a SAT phone. He bent down and whispered in your ear before you smiled and took the call.

"Deputy Director Ryan, thank you for calling me back."

Jack Ryan was one of your friends, who had once been part of the National Clandestine Service, the branch of which Carmichael was now Director. Jack had always struggled to align his conscience with his objectives, he was a little like Gentry in that respect, which was why when he was offered the role Carmichael now held, he’d declined, instead opting to accept a position within the Directorate Of Support.

His decision had served him wisely. His sharp nature and shrewd acumen, accompanied with his calm and kind demeanor, quickly meant he rose through the office ranks and now sat as Deputy Director of the entire intelligence agency, second only to the Director himself.

There was a soft sigh in your ear and the voice spoke, "you said you needed a favor. You know I can’t get you your job back, right?”

“I know…” you replied, and you did. Despite his high position, the issue was that Carmichael didn’t technically report into him and sat near the same level, power wise. And the problem was, Denny was good at what he did. He got the job done and covered his tracks, as he had done with this entire shit show so far. He was ruthless, justified his actions using his own warped morality compass, and for that reason he had the Director’s support and effectively answered to him, and him alone.

They had an understanding, that while the NCS was part of the CIA, Denny was effectively given free rein to complete tasks and mission objectives using whomever and however he deemed fit. That had included the use of the Special Activities Division, a paramilitary organization of which the black-ops Sierra Program had been part of. The very outfit Denny had effectively closed down bit by bit, ridding himself of any of the “old guard” who just might have a little sway left with politicians and people that could cause him problems.

This permission to ride rough shot was given with the understanding that if the shit hit the fan, those sat in the higher seats could deny any and all knowledge of what NCS was up to. It was something Ryan had openly told you he wasn’t comfortable with. He didn’t like the way the director ran things, and he sure as hell didn’t approve of the fact that the head of the NCS was effectively lacking morality and accountability.

All of that was something you wanted to exploit right now.

“What if I told you I could hand you Charmichael and his entire NCS operation on a silver platter? If I can prove what I know, then heads will roll, Jack. And not just Denny’s. Maybe even all the way to the top despite any supposed plausible deniability.”

There was a pause, before you heard a shuffle on the other end of the line as Jack was clearly getting comfortable in his chair. "I'm listening."

Your eyes met Lloyd's as you tossed your napkin down and stood from your seat. He glared and bore his icy stare right through you. He was livid and you knew so by the flare in his nostrils and the tick in his jaw. You turned your back on him and slipped outside, striding your way towards the pool and oceanic overlook.

“I’m assuming you heard about Prague and Croatia.”

"Oh, I heard. It’s a big mess. Denny was there to clean it up, huh?”

You had to smile at his sarcasm. “Yeah, well…it gets messier.”

“How so?"

“Is this line secure? And you’re alone?”

"I wouldn't have called otherwise."

“Six didn’t shoot Lloyd. It was Brewer.”

There was a pause. “How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“You’ve been in contact with Six?”

“Yes, but he didn’t tell me.” You paused for a moment. “He’s alive, Jack.”

"Holy shit! Jesus, Y/N. Anything else I need to know that you’ve casually left out?"

“Oh, there’s plenty more.” You smirked to yourself, “Buckle up, it’s gonna get bumpy.”

Jack listened as you relayed the last few weeks in detail, telling him everything you knew. When you finished with how the enquiry was a sham, that Denny had sanctioned Lloyd to do what he needed done by any means necessary, and that it wasn’t just military secrets he was trying to recover, you took a deep breath and sighed.

"So, like I said, it's messy and it runs deep."

“That’s…an understatement.” Jack snorted, before he sighed. “So, given that you know I can’t just get you your job back, why are you telling me this? Revenge? Or just some sudden desire to clean up the your department?”

“Oh, I totally want revenge.” You admitted, “and the department does need a cleanup, that much is obvious. But, as shocking as it’ll sound, my primary objective is to clear Lloyd’s name. Simply for no other reason than it means he can fuck off and never darken my door again. He’ll never be able to stay ‘dead’, we both know he’d have no chance of living off radar. So, it needs to be safe for him to be alive, out in the open, and preferably as far away from me as possible.” You exhaled a little. “And maybe there’s a part of me that’s hoping for to clear my name, too. I wasn’t a part of any of this, I had no idea it was gonna work out this way. And I sure as hell wasn’t part of awarding Lloyd’s company any of our contracts, despite what’s been said. I vehemently opposed it, but of course there will be no record of that. That’s how Carmichael operates.”

There was a pause, before Ryan spoke again. “So, what’s your play?”

“Six is chasing a lead. I need to get him in and out of Shanghai and then all of us into DC covertly. I need you to clear your Head of Directorate to talk to me.”

“You want him to simply help you with the logistics or…”

“I’m hoping he might wanna put the band back together, Six is gonna need a hand.” You chuckled before you took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not asking you to be complicit in this, I know it could backfire. If you just put me in touch with Tango Lima, brief them on the need for discretion…I’ll do the rest."

“Do you trust Six?”

"As far as I need to."

“What makes you think he won’t get the information and simply use it himself, leaving you and…that dick you were married to high and dry?”

“Because he’s like you, he has a morality compass. And, while it might have been Lloyd that led to Fitzroy’s death, Denny was the one that greenlight the whole thing. Plus, while he’s in Shanghai, I’m gonna have something he needs to come back for.”

There was a pause and Jack chuckled, “the girl…oh, Y/N. You never fail to impress me.”

"If it’s one thing I learned from Lloyd, it’s don't do anything without insurance policies."

“A wise move. Leave it with me.”

“I need to know in the next few hours, Jack. Or I lose this window.”

"You'll have a call in two."

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Jack replied, “I can’t guarantee they’ll wanna know but…”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they won’t want to pass up the opportunity to fucking Denny over. Like you always told me, people remember those who stabbed them in the back far more than they remember those who offered them a helping hand.”

“I taught you too well.” Jacks voice was amused, before he sighed. “Just…take care of yourself, huh?”

"I always do."

“Don’t I know it? See you on the other side. I mean it, all this aside, I still care about you.”

You smiled, you knew his words were genuine. “I know, me too. Goodbye, Jack."

The click in your ear indicated he’d cut the call. With a long sigh, you turned back to return to the table, but found Lloyd stood a few steps away from you, just within earshot.

“Tango Lemur?” He snorted, “lemur? Those furry little bastards with the hooped tails? Jesus, I know the CIA is full of chimps, but…”

“Okay, first off…lemurs are not chimps.”

“They’re primates…”

“Oh for…that’s not…I didn’t even say lemur, I said Lima… L I M A.” You spelled it. “They were another Sierra unit, disbanded way before Tango Golf…”

“Tango Golf? What the fuck!”

“Jesus Christ, they should have kicked you out long before you were. Tango Golf is Gentry’s old Sierra Unit,” you spoke slowly, as if speaking to a small child, “also known as The Goon squad…or the Goonies.”

“Right, and what’s Tango Lima then? The fuckin Loser squad? The Losers for short?” Lloyd scoffed.

You smirked at him. “Clever boy.”

"Wait, what?”

“That’s what they’re called, The Losers. Clay, Jensen, Cougar, and Pooch.” You smirked. “They were a team of five. After Bolivia, they lost one to a mole situation. People get greedy.”

“What fuck, Y/N? Clay, Jensen Cougar, and Pooch? They sound like some kind of fucking dumbass characters from a pornographic sit com! The Big Gang Bang theory…”

You scoffed, “You would know about pornographic sitcoms.” Then you rolled your eyes, “look, other than Gentry and Ryan, they’re four of the best black ops guys I’ve ever met.” You took a deep breath, ignoring his shit pun. “They were involved in a top secret mission in Bolivia about twelve years ago…and it went to shit. Long story short, they were declared dead but popped up a few months later, having fucked their corrupt handler’s attempt to get his hands on a weapon of mass destruction.”

“And they’re gonna help us simply because you ask, or you gahnna fuck them like you fucked Ryan?”

You merely arched your brow and then rolled your eyes. “No, but I’m hopeful they’re going to help because they’ll want to see Denny’s fall from grace as much as we do. You see, when they came back, Denny effectively put it out there that they were unfit to continue as part of the Special Activities Division. Said that they were too emotionally damaged from what went down in Bolivia, even had the psychs confirm this. No doubt he had dirt on the doctors, and he was using it to get them to play ball. But the point is, he did it and for no other reason than he didn’t like Clay. Denny saw him as a clear threat, he was another one too close to Fitz. Anyway, in the end they were pushed out, given a big ass payout and jobs in the support division.”

"So, you're putting everything in the hands of some pissed off, fat and aged out desk clerks? Just like fucking Ryan. Are you insane?!"

"Oh, I'm very well aware of what I'm doing. And I assure you Ryan is not fat nor aged out…”

“Really?” Lloyd snorted.

“Yes, really. Would you like me to go into details about the last time me and him fu-”

“Fuck off.”

You laughed, “Suck it up, buttercup. I’ve had a lot of fun since I signed those papers.”

“Whore.”

“At least I waited until we’d split up, you fucking cunt.” You popped your shoulder, “look, face facts, Lloyd. We need help. And people I can trust. People that know how to stay off radar. I can’t use anyone currently in clandestine ops now can I, dipshit?!”

"You're impossible, you realize this, right?"

"What's impossible is your inability to play fucking nice. What's impossible is your constant need to be in fucking control when you lose it each and every time you don't get your way." Your voice was calm, a soft smirk on your face.

Lloyd looked at you, opened his mouth and then shut it. He licked his lips, before draining his glass. “Fuck…I can’t cope with this!”

"Stop acting like a pussy"

“I’m not being a pussy, I’m just frustrated, Y/N! This is my goddamned fight and there’s fucking nothing that I can do!”

"Because you're supposed to be dead you fucking prick!"

As you yelled the words at him, something flickered across his face. The same something that you’d seen when he’d fucked you against the wall in Croatia. Contrition? Regret?

He took a deep breath, placed his glass down on the outside table, which sat on the veranda to his right. “You know, right now, I wish I was.” With that he turned, making his way back inside.

A million words ran through your brain, but you bit them all back. He was such a shit. A fucking narcissistic, sociopathic, control freak. So, instead of yelling them at him, you left him to wallow in his misplaced self-pity while you made your way back to your study to organize your thoughts and put together a plan as best you could.

**********

As promised your SAT phone rang one hour and 45 minutes after you hung up with Jack.

“Y’N?” A deep voice spoke, and you smiled.

“Hey, Clay.”

"I hear you wanted to talk to me. So, I’m listening. Fill me in.”

So, you did. You told Clay what you’d told Jack, what you needed and why. Clay listened, saying nothing for the five minutes it took you to explain.

“I always knew that fucker was up to no good.” Clay scoffed when you finished, “just like Max. He’d sell his own grandma if he thought it would benefit him.”

“So, whaddya say? Is it enough to coax you all out from behind your desks?”

“Are you kidding? We’ve been waiting for an excuse to stick it to that smarmy, little shit for years, whether he’s corrupt or not. And I owe this to Fitz.”

You sighed, “It’s risky, Clay. I mean…if it goes wrong, they’ll hang you out to dry. Again.”

“Yeah, but we got a hefty comp package after the shit in Bolivia to fall back on. Plus, I’m almost at retirement age anyway. Pooch has been talking about leaving and moving the family back home for a while, and Jensen has his son now. I’m sure a 9 to 5 job as a computer analyst would do him fine.”

You bet your lip. “And Cougar?”

Clay chuckled, “Cougs will likely grunt, tip his hat, and wander off into the sunset, surfacing a week or so later after a bender on a Mexican beach with a girl on each arm, his balls empty and a happy smile on his face.

You snorted. “Listen Clay, I really appreciate it."

“I know…” he spoke softly, “leave it with me. I’ll talk to the guys, confirm they’re in, then I’ll be in touch.”

"They can't sit on this, Clay. I need to know. Six is due here tomorrow night with the girl."

“I get it. We won’t. I’ll have an answer to you within the hour.”

"Okay, thank you."

He chuckled, “talk soon.”

You sighed as you tossed the phone onto the table. When Clay had started talking about Pooch’s family, and Jensen’s son, you felt a twist of guilt in your gut about dragging them back into something that could, potentially, go sideways and fast. But, it was their decision, and they had every right to refuse.

But families and all that aside, you hoped to god they wouldn’t. Because you couldn’t see any other way around it, and with The Losers on board, this op should be a breeze.

Or maybe a hurricane.

You ran your hands over your face and your thoughts flicked to telling Lloyd what Clay had said, but you wrinkled your nose. He wasn’t downstairs, and wherever he was he was likely sat pouting. So, you decided to leave him to it, you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with him anymore. Instead, you changed, and headed outside to take in the rest of the late afternoon sun. You read your book, with a cool iced tea, then took a swim before you showered and returned downstairs for dinner just after the sky darkened.

Lloyd was already in the kitchen, and you frowned as you saw Loretta, with a huge bunch of orchids and lilies in her hand. You tucked the tip of your tongue into your molars and growled. "Asshole."

Lloyd looked at you, frowning. “What have I done now?”

You ignored him and glanced at Loretta, "bellissimi fiori, Loretta."

She beamed, “Si, Signore Hansen…li ha comprati per me.”

"Did he now?"

“Just a thank you,” he shrugged, “for letting me use her card and pick up my stuff.”

You outright glared but your words were laced with sacrine honey. "Well, that was sweet. You seem to have gotten over your dramatic tantrum from earlier."

“I would have got you some, but you’d likely have beat me to death with them.”

“Oh, no, I’d have loved some flowers from you, that you bought using my credit card.” you rolled your eyes. “Dickbag.”

“Well, Loretta was most appreciative.” He gave another dazzling smile, and the older woman flushed and shook her head, mumbling at him to stop.

"Am I too late for dinner or should I leave you two alone?” Your words came out snappier than you’d meant, and Lloyd didn’t miss that at all.

However, instead of the shitty quip back you were expecting, he merely smirked and took a deep breath. “How about I leave you to it? I can take mine in the den, you’re clearly not in the mood.” He brushed by you and didn't bother to look your way.

You chewed on your cheek and huffed through your nose. You were pissed. His mind games were wearing thin.

And you had absolutely reached your limit.

You took your dinner outside and along with it, a full bottle of wine. Loretta offered you more than just the caprese starter, but you politely declined anything beyond that. You didn’t have an appetite for anything other than getting blind drunk.

Halfway into your second bottle you were snorting at small thoughts.

"Fall in love, they said. Get married, they said. Get fucked is more like it. And not in a good way."

Although you knew that last bit was a lie. The fucking had never been an issue. In fact, it had been great.

Which was annoying.

You sat outside, finished the wine, and then stood up to head inside for more. Loretta was finishing up and you smiled at her.

“Go home, have tomorrow off. You’ve dealt with enough crap here these past few weeks.” You looked at her as you pulled your third bottle from the fridge.

"No, signora Hansen, resto e cucino. Pulito. Prenditi cura di te come mia figlia."

"I'll be fine, Loretta," you sighed. You sat the bottle on the counter and used your electric opener to pop the cork. "You deserve it. Te lo meriti. Sei troppo buono con me."

She began to protest again but after a little persuasion she gave in. "Buonanotte, grazie, signora Hansen. Grazie!"

"Goodnight, Loretta," you closed the door on her. With a heavy sigh you went back into the kitchen, left the empty wine glass alone, and just started on it straight from the bottle.

You headed back outside, the lantern lights now on, illuminating the gardens and pool area. You both hated this house, and you loved this house. Loved the pool and the view. The ocean glittered even at night. The gardens were perfectly trimmed and cared for. It was always your escape. The best way to wind down, as you sat nestled in Coastal Italy, just a short drive away from an off the map little village no one cared about.

Easy to hide.

That was why Lloyd used it. Thought he’d never get caught. But then he did. Now, here you were, harboring your ex-husband who should have been dead. Yet he showed up on your doorstep. He was using you, as well as the house.

Your mood grew worse, and halfway through your current bottle of wine you decided to go and confront the dickhead. Ask him exactly why the fuck he thought it was okay.

You swayed a bit as you walked with your bare feet across the stone floor. The bottle of wine hung from your gripped fist, fingers wrapped around the bottleneck. You cracked your neck as you opened the door.

“You…you’re such…a fucking asshole,” you slurred.

"Me? What the fuck did I do now? Jesus Christ, Y/N, I've been in here fucking not given two dicks about what the fuck you're doing. Minding my own business."

"You're an asshole!"

"Why?!"

“Because…you are. How dare you…show up here…and…and…start your usual bullshit mind games and…why couldn’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

Lloyd frowned. "I was bleeding out for fuck sakes! This was the closest and safest place to go. I didn't know you'd be here!"

“Where else would I be?” You swayed a little.

"I don't know! Fucking Virginia! Boston!"

“So, you just came here…huh? Not thinking I’d be here, to help?” You shook your head, “you’re full of shit.”

"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He stood from your desk and walked toward you. "Want me to say, 'thank you'? Get on my hands and knees to beg for what I need? Fuck you!"

"No, fuck you! I don't want you here! I don't want you anywhere near me! You keep fucking it all up! Fucking m…my life up!"

There it was again. That almost sorrowful, apologetic one flashed across his features. Yes, you were drunk, and from the way his eyes were glazed and the three quarter empty bottle of expensive whiskey on the desk, you knew he was too. But still, you saw it clear as day. Only now, it made your chest burn and ache.

“Why can’t you just say it and mean it?” The words came out far softer than you intended. A disgustingly, almost pleading tone to your voice that you hated but couldn’t help.

His nostrils flared and he visibly swallowed.

"You can’t say it and mean it, because you don’t. You’re not sorry in the slightest bit are you?” You shook your head. “You don’t need me. You don't want me. It was always just a lie. You used me."

You walked backward as he grew closer. You felt safer with more distance between you.

“I didn’t use you.” He shook his head.

Taking a pull from your bottle, you stalked to the cabinet that sat under a beautiful piece of Italian art. Crouching low, you pulled open the doors and pulled a sleek black book from its depths.

“Maybe, not at first, but it felt like it in the end." You threw the book at him and as it fell to the floor, feet short of hitting him, a few lose pictures fell out. "I loved you. I wanted a life with you. But you didn’t…”

“Of course, I did, I married you, you…”

“If you ever loved me, I wouldn't have found you dick and balls deep in her. We won’t mention the others I found out about, or the ones I didn’t that you delighted in telling me about after our divorce." You took a final drink and set the now empty, third bottle of wine on top of the cabinet. “This deal with..." you swayed a second," with Six, when it's over we're done. Again. Forever.”

You staggered a bit and walked off, towards to patio off the den and into the cool breeze of the night. Lloyd blinked, before he bent down, gritting his teeth against the pain as he picked up the book.

Or photo album, as the case was.

It was full of photos. None of your wedding, but mainly other, candid shots. And the annoying thing was, he could remember and identify when and where every damned picture was taken. He felt a twist in his stomach. He stared at one in particular. The two of you stood in a winery, rows of grapevines behind you.

"Tuscany." He whispered.

That knot in his stomach grew tighter, his throat felt like it was full of sandpaper. It was an alien feeling, one he didn’t feel all that often, but he knew damned well what it was.

Regret.

"Shit."

He felt the hate you harbored, the disgust…and while he pretended to find it all funny, paint this entire situation as an inconvenience, to his horror, the sheer loathing you had towards him wore him down. The fact was, you got under his skin, and he hated it.

So far, you had been nothing but indifferent towards him, perhaps mildly irritated on most occasions.

Until now, that is.

The cracks in your armor had most certainly surfaced. But something was making him hesitate, something buried deep inside himself was telling him not to exploit your drunken, emotional state to fuck with your mind. Because, if he was honest, underneath it all, he was sorry.

He was sorry it had ended the way it had. Because he had loved you. Despite what he tried to admit, he hadn’t always been the man he was today. You’d called him a sociopath. Maybe it was true. But he always thought sociopaths were incapable of feeling.

And he had felt things.

For you, anyway. And you might have been the only thing he ever “felt” for.

You had been right earlier that day, when you’d told him he had a need to be in control. He knew that. In fact, the lack of control he felt around you had led him to his indiscretions. He needed to know he still had control over his life, his job, you…

The times he’d strayed had been just about that. A reminder to himself that he could still do what he wanted, when he wanted, without consequence.

But there were always consequences. His bastard father dying had shown him that. It had left Lloyd with an alcoholic mother to deal with, and a fucking burden of issues; namely debt and scores that people seemed hell bent on settling with the son left behind. It had hardened him, taught him that even the people who were supposed to love him unconditionally could end up causing him pain, and sorrow.

He snorted to himself, it amused him a little how the only time he could be honest with himself was when he was drunk. But that was the solace he found at the bottom of a bottle, the fact he could lose control and have a reason, an excuse…and know that tomorrow it would be back to normal,

"Fuck," he whispered. Painfully he stood, the picture from Tuscany clutched in his hand. He hobbled over to the desk and snatched the whiskey. "In for a penny..."

He took another huge pull and headed out to find you.

The garden lights illuminated you as you walked through them. He watched as you swayed a bit to the left before tipping over into the grass. He stopped, waited as you stood back up again, your hands smoothing over your hair as you smoothed down the red and white dress you had on. Then you drew your shoulders back. And then he saw you raise your hand to your face and swipe at your cheeks.

You were crying.

He stood still, resting his hands on his hips. He thought about what he'd give to have his stupid stress ball right then.

You turned, saw him standing there. "Go away..." you shuddered.

“Y/N…”

"No! Just go!"

“Alright…alright, I’ll go…” he took a swaying step towards you, “but answer me a question before I do.” Your silence pushed him to ask. He raised the photo in his hand. “Why did you keep these? Why not…why not burn ‘em with the sun lounger and whatever else you had a bonfire with?”

You staggered toward him, "because I couldn't."

“Why?”

“That’s…that’s two questions,” you held up as many fingers.

"You didn't answer the first one. Why?"

"Because I loved you. And I held onto hope that then, there," you pointed to the picture, "you loved me too."

“I did love you Y/N,” Lloyd sighed, “I loved you so much, I lost who I was…”

"Don't…damn it don't do that. Not now. I answered your question, now fucking leave like you said you would.”

Lloyd nodded, stepping back. “Okay, okay, I might be a lot of things but…I am a man of my word. I’ll go.”

“Yeah, man of your word when it comes to everything but me.” You couldn’t resist. You knew you should stop, just let him go and leave you alone to sober up some more. But that had felt good.

"God damn it, Y/N! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I fucking hurt you! I'm sorry I'm not this fahking guy anymore!" He tossed the image at your feet. "I haven't been for years, and I won't be that guy again, ever. I have too much blood on my hands, and I don't care! I fucked up. I got too fucking personal with this job and Denny fucking knew it. So, he sent you. And I wanted to fucking kill him. I still do! And if that wasn't bad enough I had Suzanne tattling every goddamned chance she could, thinking she had one over on me with each step.” His eyes blazed as you watched him, your hands at your hips. “I had a fucking job to do. I was doing it! So, I'm sorry! I’m sorry I showed up here, un-fucking-announced. I'm sorry I bled over your fucking expensive ratan furniture. I had nowhere to go. I had to get here, hoping you'd be here to save my fucking life." He threw his hands up, “there, I said it. I needed you."

You blinked, your eyes bouncing across his. “Goddamnit, you actually mean it…”

"Yes!"

You shook your head, “Fuck…I hate you…I hate you so fucking much right now for making me feel like this. For years I’ve just ignored you, you were some…mistake I made, a costly mistake. And this,” you picked up the photo from the ground and waved it in Lloyd’s face. You vision spun, but you kept on, “these were to serve as a reminder never to lose myself to anyone ever again. But…I was lying, lying to myself. I kept them because you made me happy, until you ripped out my heart and tore it into a million goddamned pieces!” With that you launched at him, slapping every part of him you could reach. “I fucking hate you!”

He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing his biceps to hold you like a snake. It kept your hands away but pained him with the pressure of his recovering wounds. “Stahp.... Stahp."

“Get off me!”

"No."

You wriggled against him, but Lloyd was too strong. "Let me go, or I'll fucking drop you again."

“Alright…” he moved back, his arms releasing you. He watched your shoulders slump and your chest heave. You'd now fully lost control.

Neither of you moved or said anything for a good few moments. But, then you took the first step and he followed. Your bodies crashed into each other as did your lips. His hands were tight on your back, pressing you into him. Your hands were trapped between his chest and yours. Your fingers gathered his polo into your fists. His tongue lashed against yours, fighting for dominance as he kissed you

This was different than Croatia, you felt that already.

You started backing him towards the steps that led up to the pool area. He let you, no pushback or stalling. He walked backward until the grass changed to a harder surface. The back of his heels hit the bottom of the step and that was the first time he pulled back a little. Your jaw was relaxed, and he could feel your breath on his face each time you breathed out.

“This means nothing,” you whispered to him.

"Nothing," he agreed as he grew taller intermittently before you followed him up the steps.

“Just so we’re clear.”

"Perfectly."

You nodded, before your lips locked back with his. His right hand cradled the back of your head while his left arm wrapped around you. Somehow, through the fumbling you both found yourself over at the loungers. Soon you were tugging at the waistband of those awful trousers. His hands came around and started at the buttons of your dress. Frustrated with his fingers’ inability to work, he fisted the material and pulled it open. You gasped as buttons flew. That lace bra you had on under begged to be touched. The fingertips of his good hand brushed ever so gently over it, dancing over the swell of your breasts.

With a growl, that hand opened up on your chest and pushed you to the lounger. You went to sit up and he merely pushed you down again, "No."

You glared up at him, trying to think of some smart-ass reply back. He smirked when there wasn't one. But a grunt gripped his throat as you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

It was your turn to smirk.

In a show of strength, you sat up and flung his arm away from you balancing on the seat of your ass to grab at him. No belt meant less time wasted and you were quick with the slide and zip to the trousers. You whipped him out in desperation.

This needed to be quick before you sobered up enough.

He didn’t question your sudden speed, he didn’t care to or want to. You gave him a good twist and pulled him back with you as you laid back on the lounger. He gave a hiss, out of pain or pleasure, you had no idea and didn’t really care. You settled your hips under him and with a free hand moved your panties aside.

A quick shift of his hips, and he was sliding in. There was a sharp sting from your lack of foreplay, but it only took a few slow thrusts from him to settle.

“Fuck…” your voice cracked as your eyes closed for a moment.

In contrast, Lloyd made a noise in his throat as he settled into a rhythm that was quick and hard.

There was nothing soft about any of this, nothing loving in his demeanor or yours. But it wasn’t quite as hate fueled as the last time you had screwed.

Your noises blended in with that of your surroundings. The crickets in the grass chirping the melody to your fucking that was perfectly accompanied by the bass of the sea crashing against the rocks down in the bay. Your breathing became quicker as did his thrusts, his lips hovering inches from yours, eyes watching your face carefully, like he was an artist examining his latest brush strokes on a masterpiece.

His hand curled round the back of your head, "fuck your bartender, I'll fuck you better."

"Keep trying," you hissed.

He added a dirty grind, reaching for your knee and pushing your leg back and up towards your shoulder. You cried out at how good he felt like that. The stretch inside you, making you tighter and deeper.

“Hard enough?” He asked, before you heard a little grunt from him as he dropped his head looking away from you. And you knew if you could see his face fully, it would show you he was in pain.

"No." You dragged your nails up his arm and over his shoulder to his neck, you felt something warm trail down your skin. There was a light scent of copper. He was bleeding. You dug your nails into the base of his neck. "You always were a good fuck when you’re pissed."

Lloyd gave another deep snap of his hips. “I’m always a good fuck, sunshine."

“Shut up…”

"No..." he brought his injured hand to your throat while your leg was pressed further into you by his good hand. Without the balance of both his hands, Lloyd needed to focus his weight against your body.

And fuck, it felt good. "Fuck, that's it, right there...."

“I know…” he snapped his hips, “I know how you like it, peach….”

You were wound tight, and that band was just about to snap. The days of frustration and now bottles of wine had led to this moment. Cumming would mean it was over, that you’d get what you needed and be able to go back to hating him. And you were just fine with that. A final snap and a dirty grind had you there.

"Oh fuck!" You whined out as you came. Your walls pulled him in with strong pulses around his cock.

“Thassit..look at you…all cock drunk…” he grunted.

You whimpered coming down from your orgasm. Lloyd was still going, but not for long. He growled at the final snap of his hips. His pelvis sank deeper into you with micro thrusts as his cock spasmed, emptying his load deep inside you.

There was a moment you both stilled, chests heaving, dim lights illuminating your ex-husband as he lay over you, panting. You blinked and swallowed, pulling back anything that could have surfaced emotionally.

"Get off," your voice was a cool, emotionless instruction.

Lloyd blinked, then pulled out of you before getting to his feet. He tucked himself back in his pants, eyes on yours before he ran his hand through his hair.

You sat up and fixed your dress by crossing the material over you like a wrap. You moved your eyes over his torso, the polo fallen back into place. "You popped a stitch."

With a frown, he pulled up the polo and you watched as his hands touched the tacky blood on his side. “Shit...”

You didn’t offer to help, instead you simply told him, “clean yourself up, there's a med kit in your room under the sink."

And that was where you left him. Once again bleeding all over your nice ratan and memory foam cushions.

It was better that way.

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coverupps · 2 years ago

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Soft Spot

This is a new Dark/ Mob Chris Evans series I am hoping to be working on I hope you will all enjoy it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps

Masterlist

Summary: Chris has his hands full with his club, his boys and his wife who he dotes on. Things get harder when (Y/n)’s pregnant but she’s barely gotten over losing their little girl.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tiptoeing across the landing, the eldest boy crept around the squeaky floorboards and moved over towards the bathroom. He knew the rules of the house like the back of his hand and one of them was that if either of his parents were in the bathroom, he had to knock. He couldn’t just barge in there like he had done on some occasions in the past. But the bathroom door was ever so slightly open, just a crack.

That little crack let Ronan sneak a small glimpse of the bathroom so he pressed his head against the doorframe and peeked inside. He was nosey by nature, he couldn’t help it but there was just something so fascinating about watching his dad prepare for work.

He could see Chris clearly through the small opening in the door. His dad was stood in front of the bathroom sink, water dripping from his face and hands and a few droplets were falling from his hair. For a moment, he thought his dad might be shaving but when he watched him, he was just having a wash. Ronan couldn’t remember the last time his dad had shaved. His mum liked the beard so much Chris never shaved it off anymore.

From this angle, Ronan could see the slick black and silver hand-gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers against his back. His dad never went anywhere without it.

Keep reading

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coverupps · 3 years ago

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I love the reader standing her ground and being strong but I need them back together!!!! I can bare to see them apart any longer 😫 I’m gunna have to vote option 1!!

Brothers In Arms: CALLING ALL READERS!

So, the next chapter is ALMOST ready, but I’m at a pivotal moment… it could go either way now and after spitballing with my beta @spectre-posts I’ve decided that because I legit can’t decide which way to take this, I’m asking you!

We all know want Ransom has done is realistically unforgivable…but…let’s face it, this is fanfic so anything is possible…so your options are as follows

Would you like to see:

1. Reader forgive him (clearly this won’t just be a quick, I forgive you, there’s gonna need to be some work at it but…the outcome is she takes him back.)

2. She sticks with it and they stay apart.

Either way, the overall main plot stays unchanged, but the ending will. And this is your chance to decide!

Answers by reblog, ask or comment…

❤️❤️❤️❤️

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coverupps · 3 years ago

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Another incredible chapter!!!! I Missed jakey and Stella so it’s great to see them back and doing what they are best at 😉

Drama is really kicking off now and I’m so excited to see where you take the story with these two next!!

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch 15: Don’t Start None…

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: The Losers hit Goliath in an attempt to find out what is on the mysterious external hard drive, but of course, it doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

W/C: 4k ish

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, violence, smut, (nsfw, 18+) best disgusting person exposing himself in an elevator.

Disclaimer: I own no characters within bar the OFCs. This is a work of pure fiction. I do not consent for this work to be reposted without permission.

A/N: I’ve been dying to share this one…it’s my fave scene in the whole film! Hope it works! Thanks as always to our beta @spectre-posts

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Ch 14

“For me to get this algorithm, I’m gonna need to directly access the system from a hardwire port. And it needs to be from a point inside that won’t trip when I load up the programme that digs into everything they got.” Jensen explained as he perched on the edge of the table which was situated in the disused warehouse on the outskirts of Houston.

“So we need someone with a security access level of five or more, which is where Anderson comes in,” Stella took a deep breath. “He’s the HR manager, likely the easiest guy with the level we need, to lure away from his desk.”

“Okay…so what’s the plan?”

Stella looked at Jensen, who gestured with his hand for her to continue. “Jake will go in, through the main entrance, posing as a delivery guy from DHL. From our stakeout today, it seems they arrive pretty much bang on eight each morning, in time for the post to be sorted for nine.”

At that the group turned to Jensen and Pooch raised a brow, “so you’re gonna just walk into DHL?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jensen scoffed, “no I’m gonna intercept some spotty teenage kid on his way, drug him, steal his uniform and bike.”

“Because that makes so much more sense…” Aisha rolled her eyes.

“You got a better idea?” Stella snapped and the woman held her hands up.

“Carry on, Arty.” Clay spoke, his voice soft.

“Once inside, JJ can change in the elevator and disguise himself as one of the technical team. I’ll join him and get in on the eighth floor after I’ve sorted him a pass.”

“Sounds too simple,” Pooch frowned and Jensen clicked his fingers and pointed at him.

“There is one slight problem.”

“Henderson’s office is on the top floor.” Stella explained. “So whilst getting in isn’t an issue, getting out could be.”

“How so?” Clay asked.

Jensen popped a shoulder. “They suss something is going on, they can easily cut off our escape.”

Cougar slid his finger under the brim of his hat as he stood up and walked to the wall which contained the surveillance photos and schematics. He looked at them for a moment, before he turned to Clay and shrugged, smirking a little.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Clay looked at Jensen and Stella.

“We’re gonna need transport,” Pooch spoke, “leave that with me and Cougs, we’ll sort it tonight. Grab a van or something…”

“Alright,” Clay nodded then he looked at Stella, “why don’t you and Jensen grab a motel tonight? You need to be groomed enough to pass as office workers.”

Stella looked at him, arching a brow as he shot her an almost imperceptible wink. She bit back a smile, knowing full well that was bullshit. Clay was simply offering her some time alone with Jake, and also making sure she stayed away from Aisha.

“Okay,” she nodded, “we need to pick up some clothes anyway so…”

“That goes for anyone else who wants to grab a decent nights sleep and chance to freshen up.” Clay looked around. The rest of the gang glanced at one another, shrugging. “I’ll stay here.”

“I could take a nap and some decent food.” Pooch looked at Cougar, “we can source a van then early morning.”

Cougar simply popped a shoulder and Pooch looked at Roque who had until then remained silent, the bad air between he and Clay still thick.

“Sounds good.”

“Pay cash, false names and addresses, stick to independent ones if you can and don’t go together.” Clay instructed. “Okay, Losers…grab what you need and I’ll see the three of you back here at oh-seven hundred.” He looked at Pooch, Cougar and Roque in turn before he switched his attention to Stella. “Arty, Jensen…keep us informed as you go.”

Jensen sprang to attention, saluting him before he grinned and clapped his hands together. “This is exciting, ain’t it?”

Stella looked at him before she rolled his eyes, “you’re such an idiot.”

*****

Jensen secured the two of them a quaint room in a little country boutique in on the outskirts of Houston. It was posh enough for spoiling but low key enough that it could have passed for a bed and breakfast.

“Do I even wanna know how you got round the lack of ID?” Stella asked as he came over to where she was sat at the bar, grinning as he twirled the key around his finger.

“Told him we were having an affair and bunged him an extra hundred bucks tip.” He gave her a goofy grin.

"You're something else, you know that?"

“It worked,” he bent down to pick up their small duffel bag, which contained their freshly purchased clothing.

Together they headed for the elevator, and five minutes later, Jake was closing and locking their door. Stella flopped down on the bed made with a cool down comforter and high thread count sheets.

"Fuck, this is amazing!"

Jensen ceremoniously dumped himself besides her. "So soft." He jokingly sighed.

Stella turned her head to look at him, “you making fun o’me, JJ?”

He squinted through his glasses and pinched his fingers together with very little gap between his finger and thumb, giving his answer.

“Rude.”

"Shower, dinner, sex? In that order? C'mon, Stelly, we've got all night away from everyone."

"We have a mission to sort out."

"Which we can do over dinner."

Stella sighed, “I suppose…I mean the plan is as sound as it’s gonna get. Just gotta blag my way in, incapacitate the guy you’re imitating and steal his pass…easy.”

“Now who’s making fun of who?” Jensen arched his brow

Stella smirked and pushed herself off the bed. She pulled her top over her head and threw it at Jensen's face. "There's a tub in there calling my name. Secure wardrobe, Jensen, come find me when you're done."

Just as she opened the door to the bathroom, something soft hit her on the back of the head and she turned to see Jensen was stood up, his torso bare as he’d thrown his tee at her. “Wardrobe secure…”

"Idiot."

“Your idiot,” he winked, crossing towards her.

“You are my idiot, yes," she sighed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her nose to his chin. "Do you think we'll get to go home after all this?"

Jake took a deep breath, “it’s the best shot we got, Stelly.”

“No, the best shot we had would have been to bail after the fiasco in Miami.”

“Babe, they saw Pooch.” Jensen sighed, “they’ll know we’re on to them, going back before we take them out isn’t an option.”

"I wanna go home, Jake."

Jensen sighed, "I know. And I wanna give you that , so bad, but baby, we gotta do this."

"I know." Stella looked up at him with soft eyes, "I love you, Jakey. Forever and always."

With a gentle smile, no trace of his usual goofiness on his face at all, his hands cupped her cheeks and he pressed his lips to hers. “How about you run that bath, I’ll pour us a couple of glasses of that bourbon we picked up and come join you?”

"I think it's a great idea." She whispered.

“I have them sometimes.” He winked

With a second soft peck, he left her to fulfill his request. Stella stripped off her pants and examined herself in the ensuite mirror.

She'd changed.

If not physically, but mentally and she could see it in the way she viewed herself. These past months had been hard on them all. Sure, some physical changes occurred. Taught skin from rationed and junked diets, not nearly malnutrition but just typical deployment life. Or a-typical in their case. Grittier skin tone, tan lines worse than a junkies tracks and disheartening eyes that used to smile and shine.

With a sigh, she dumped some of the complimentary bubbles into the bath under the stream from the faucet and piled her hair on her head. It felt dry, a far cry from the usually conditioned and well kept waves she normally had and in need of a decent style and treatment.

"This bullshit better get me home." She mumbled.

She could hear Jake in the main room, shuffling around as she turned to watch the water fill the tub. She knew he’d take his time, give her a few minutes to herself. He was good like that, considerate. It was a side to him that she adored, the way he just knew what she needed.

When he did come back, he carried two short glasses with whiskey and the bottle, dressed in nothing but his boxers with even his glasses removed.

He handed her a glass, and without a word she took it, necked they amber liquid in one and winced as it burned.

“Fuck, that’s…”

“Cheap.” He chuckled.

“Reminds me of that stuff we robbed from Jane’s bedroom that summer.”

Jake snorted, “yeah, she was pissed…even more so when she couldn’t make a fuss as mom would have tanned her ass for having it in the first place.”

Stella snorted, "young and problem free. Definitely no idea we'd be international criminals before we were thirty…"

“I dunno. Always knew I’d be James Bond eventually,” Jake necked his scotch abs then took Stella’s empty glass from her hand. He set them down on the counter and turned to shut the water off. "Jensen, Jacob Jensen."

Stella laughed as she topped their glasses up, “licensed to kill…”

“Or thrill…”

“What about about it double-0, you need a good Bond girl?" She flicked her brow as she sipped her glass and handed him his.

“I already got one.”

"I'm no Pussy Galore, but I'll get by." She winked.

“Always preferred Honey Ryder myself.” He took his glass, his brow arching a little, blue eyes flashing as he looked at her.

"Well, Mr Jensen, care to show this Honey a good time?"

At that he laughed, a pure, loud belly chuckle that made Stella feel warm. For a moment, it was easy to forget how they’d gotten here, and she found herself relaxing even more in the respite they had from the madness that had surrounded them for weeks.

She necked her glass and hissed before hooking her fingers in her panties and dropping them below her ass to allow the material to drop before kicking it away. She then bent her arms toward her back and unhooked her bra, the straps falling away from her shoulders and down her upper arms before it too dropped to the floor.

The whole moment took a split second, but Jake had stopped his giggle the second she necked her booze. His eyes watched under heavy and long lashes as she stripped and then stepped into the bubble bath.

In a flash he had tipped his own drink down his neck, stripped out of his boxers and joined her in the tub.

They soaked quietly, the sounds of their breath the only conversation. Jake's left hand rested along the tub's edge while his other traced the trails of droplets along Stella's arm as she rested it upon her bent right knee.

Eventually, Jake was pleased to see her relax fully as she leaned back completely, her back and head resting on his chest.

"Thank you for this." She finally spoke. "It means more than you'll know."

“Well, I can’t take full credit…should probably thank Clay…” he kissed her head, “his suggestion.”

“I don’t wanna think about Clay.”

“You still pissed at him, huh?”

"Yes, and if he lets me close enough, Imma kill her."

Jake chuckled, “I love it when you get all feisty, Stelly.”

"She's gonna get one of us shot or killed. I don't trust her, Jake. And Clay can't pull his dick out of it fast enough to see that."

“You think he’s…”

“You can count on it,” Stella snorted.

“Huh, get in there Clay.” He chuckled.

"Excuse me?"

“I just mean…you know, it…well…”

“Keep talking, I dare you.”

"Nope."

“Huh, not always as dumb as you look.”

"Hey, c'mon, Stella, be fair."

She took a deep breath and let it out through her nose, falling silent again. Then her hand took his, tangling their fingers together.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," He sighed.

“I’ve nothing else to say,” she popped a shoulder, “just wanna get this all over with, and then I’m out.”

"We're out."

At that she stilled, and tipped her head to look at him, “you wanna leave the force too?”

"I go where you go, can't have our babies like that."

At that she laughed, before she stopped suddenly. “Rey will have had hers already.”

"Look at me, Stella," Jake said firmly.

She sniffed, swallowed and turned her eyes to meet his.

The water of the tub sloshed as he moved, his free hand reaching over to cup her left cheek.

"We are getting our lives back and making it right." He said slowly and matter of factly. "No matter my personal cost, do you understand me?"

“Personal cost?”

"Whatever it takes," he nodded. His thumb softly stroked her cheek, a slow steady arc over her cheek bone, “I love you, Estella Stevenson, more than I can even begin to explain.”

"I know, I love you too," she whispered, before she cleared her throat. “Erm, we should…we need to eat…Imma get out and dry off.”

“Okay,” Jake nodded, watching as she rose from the tub and wrapped herself in a towel. With a sigh, he remained where he was for a split second, the look on his girls face haunting him. She might still be fighting to get home, but she didn’t believe they were gonna… and he hated that. His Stelly was a spitfire, a hell cat, no one zapped the fight out of her, and he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen her so resigned. And sadly, he realised, one way or another, he’d been involved in all of those instances.

He heard Stella sniff from the other room, and with a shake of his head he bit his lip, and rose himself from the tub, pulling the plug. He didn’t bother with a towel though, instead he strode through to the main room, his feet leaving wet footsteps across the carpet as Stella straightened up from where she had been rummaging in the duffel bag which was sat on top of the small vanity.

“Jakey?” She eyed him in the mirror before she turned to see him as he strode towards her. Without saying a word, his hands cupped her face and he slanted his lips across hers.

It was six steps to the edge of the bed. And in those six steps, Jake's tongue had slipped between Stella's lips and worked its way into her mouth. In those six steps he'd turned her and walked her backwards to the bed while he kissed her. When Stella's legs hit the duvet and mattress, she gave a little grunt.

Jake's left hand moved to her back from around her side and led her down across the bed, never breaking their kiss. He knealed over her, a knee between her legs, the other against her right thigh. His right hand reached up, untucking the edge of the towel from where Stella had wrapped it around her body, allowing it to fall open.

Jake's lips broke from Stella's and kissed across her jaw to that sweet spot near her ear. "Imma love on you, make up for it all, baby."

Stella's voice was lost as she gasped lightly.

Jake moved his head, nudging her chin back a little with his nose. Soft, warm lips traced a path across her neck, down her throat. Her scent was that of the bath as his nose dragged along skin heated from the water and now desire. A left nipple came into his mouth and he laved his tongue over it, pulling the pert skin between his teeth. He suckled and pulled, massaging the opposite breast as he did so, tweaking the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Stella curled off the bed and further into his assault. Her fingers from her left hand skated through his short hair.“Fuck, Jakey…” she sighed, her nails dragging across his scalp, “feels so good…”

Jake shuddered at the scratch, groaning into her skin. With a chuckle he pulled off and switched to the forgotten side, administering the same actions and garnered the same response from his girl. Her fingers danced down the back of his neck, across his shoulders and to the back of his upper arms.

Breaking free from her chest, Jake licked a stripe under Stella's right breast before moving downward. He nipped at the protruding bit of her rib cage before open mouth kissing it better. He dragged his nose down to her belly button where his tongue dipped inside.

At that point he felt a hand on the top of his head, pushing him to go lower. He snorted and peeked up at her, his chin resting just above her mound. “Impatient, babe?”

"Yes." She didn't hesitate.

With a cheeky grin, he moved his head down, as Stella bent her knees, her feet planted on the duvet.

"Wider," Jake pushed her knees open. "Stretch it out," he hummed. She sighed as his hands slid up the outside of her legs.

Jake's neck bent and his tongue poked out, testing Stella. He barely touched her dripping folds and she shook. "Oh Stelly...."

“You talk too much.”

With a snort and scoff Jake set to her, shushing any more comments from his girl.

He listened to the noises she made, knowing exactly what each little groan, moan and pant meant. Jake knew how to work her over, giving Stella enough and just a little to push her towards orgasm. Sex with Stella was always the purest of wanton needs being filled, lust, love and passion all in equal parts.

He dipped a digit into her hole and she gripped him, her centre greedy for fulfillment.

“Oh, fuck…baby….” He crooned.

"Jakey, please...."

“I gotchu…” he pulled back and moved, crawling back over her to settle his hips between hers.

His tip touched her swollen clit and Stella's hips tilted upward, hinting at what she wanted.

With a slow push forward he gave it to her.

"Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Stella whimpered as Jake moaned.

His eyes focused on hers, he pulled back as slowly as he’d pushed in, before his hips slid forward again.

Stella's eyes did indeed roll as her hands moved to grip Jake's biceps. And as he controlled their pace with languid snaps of his hips, they were not lazy, but delicious torture. Jake was building up the friction within her body,winding and winding that key so when the coil snapped, she'd see stars.

Her body moved slightly with his, every thrust he made. As their eyes locked again, Jake moaned and dropped his head to kiss her. Her hands skated up his arms and over Jake's shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into their kiss.

"I love you," Stella rasped when Jake's forehead met with hers.

“I love you too, baby. So fuckin’ much…”

"Make me cum, Jake."

With a groan, his hand slid between them to tickle her clit.

To tighten the friction, Stella's knees bent and her ankles rose to hook behind the small of Jake's back, her heels pressing into the tops of his ass cheeks.

"So close," She hitched.

Jake didn’t need her to say it, he could just tell. He began to speed up slightly, both with his hips and his fingers.

Then, Stella tensed and a flush of pink filled her body. She cried out Jake's name as she came, flooding between her legs.

“Oh, Stelly…” he crooned, his mouth nipping her chin. She breathed heavily as Jake rode her through it. He was close himself, his shaft being palpated by her walls, "feel you cumin'."

Her hands slid back to his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. Jake's hand that tickled her clit now settled on her side as he balanced over her, his hips keep long their pace.

"Cum Jake, fill me up, baby."

At that he groaned a little himself, “one day…you know Imma do it…”

"You gonna gimme that baby we talked about?" Stella whimpered, "oh fuck."

“Yeah…yeah…” Jake groaned as he continued to thrust, “our little Daisy…”

"Get me home, Jake. Get me home and we'll do it."

“I will. I promise…” his words were broken by his grunts and pants.

"Marry me, baby me. Oh shit, just like that," Stella whined. She was close again.

“Oh, fuck…” Jake choked, “Imma…Stelly…”

"Yeah baby...."

“Yeah…I’m gonna…I need to…”

"Fuck, Jake!"

With a final yell of her name, Jake came with a surge, his hips sloppy as they pumped a few further times before he pitched forward.

He felt Stella fluttering around him, so he knew she’d gotten there too, and he gave a sigh as his face pressed into her neck as he lay over her.

He shuddered a little as her hands smoothed up and down his back, and she couldn’t help but smile as she felt the muscles twitching under her finger tips.

"Imma get you home," he murmured against her skin.

Stella sighed, “I know.”

The sad thing was, neither wanted to admit to the other, they didn’t truly believe themselves.

******

It never failed to amuse Stella just how unobservant people were. She walked into the office building, completely unchallenged. Smiling, she gave the woman on the front desk a quick smile and walked through to the elevator.

As she waited, she turned to see a tall, dark haired man besides her, a badge pinned to his shirt, and she took a deep breath.

“Oh, shit…” she groaned loudly.

The man looked to her as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She caught his eye and bit her lip. “I don’t suppose you know where I can find the tech team? It’s my first day and I need to pick up a laptop from some guy called Skippy?”

“They not tell you at the desk?”

“Probably but, well, it’s so much information you know?” She smiled again, “I mean there’s just so much to remember!”

At that, he chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it can seem a little daunting…” His eyes strayed to her cleavage, which was visible at the top of her low cut blouse, and then back to her face. When she blinked at him, he smirked. “Fourth floor.”

“Oh, thank you so much…” she touched his arm as she glanced at the guys name on his badge, “…Ross.”

The elevator arrived and Ross stepped aside to allow her in first. “So…what are you joining us to do?”

“HR.” Stella smiled, “I’m a people person.” She fluttered her eyelashes, and the man grinned.

“Sure you are…” he pressed the button for the fourth floor and the fifth, and looked at her expectantly.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Sarah Connor and yes, like in Terminator. My parents had a dumb sense of humor.” She rolled her eyes as Ross laughed.

“Well, Sarah Connor, welcome aboard.” He held out his hand. Stella shook it just as the elevator stopped. The door opened and Ross nodded, “here you are.”

“Thank you so much.” She beamed.

“No problem.” The man smiled, “hey, this might be forward, but…if you’re free tonight, a few of us go for a drink on Wednesdays, you’re welcome to join us…”

“Dick...” she heard a grumble in her ear, followed by laughter from Clay and Pooch, and bit her lip, smiling at the man in front of her.

“Erm, sure…” Stella shrugged, smiling gently, “yeah, I’m supposed to finish at five so…”

“What the fuck, Stelly?”

“Great. Well my surname's Thompson so…look me up on the internal address book and drop me a line.” He ran his fingers through his hair as Stella left the elevator, smiling. She walked a few steps and made sure to accentuate her walk, deliberately swaying her hips as she went. She paused, and shot a coy look at Ross over her shoulder, catching his smirk as the doors shut.

“Did you seriously just agree to go on a date with some other dude?” Jensen hissed down her comms piece.

“That’s what I heard…” Pooch added.

“I’m undercover, shut up.“ Stella muttered as she glanced across the office, searching for the man she wanted and then smiled as she spotted him. She made her way over, and then cleared her throat. The red haired man looked up at her.

“Hi…” she smiled. “Mr Anderson sent me down, something about his network or access not working on his laptop.”

“He sent you down, God he’s such a lazy bastard.”

“Perils of being the new girl.”

Skippy snorted, “tell him I’ll be up in half an hour.”

“Okay. Erm…” Stella not her lip, before she sighed. “Any chance you could…like, go up now? It’s my first day and…”

“Don’t be a shit, Skip.” One of the men on the desks opposite looked at him, “play nice.”

She shot Skippy a pleading look.

“Okay, okay…” he stood up, and grabbed his phone.

“Thank you so much…”

“Sure,” Skippy shrugged.

They headed towards the elevators, Stella stepping in first. Skippy followed her in, and as soon as the doors shut, Stella pulled the syringe of sedative out of her bra. Before the guy had even turned to speak to her, she’d jabbed him in the neck, and a second later he slumped on the floor. Stella quickly pressed the button for the next floor, grabbed his pass, and when the doors opened she shot out of the elevator, and hit the button which would take it down to the underground car park. Then she darted out and hurried toward the stair well, taking them down.

“Okay. He’s out.”

“Just about to head in the door now.” Jensen spoke in her ear.

“We’re in position, and we have a back-up plan if this goes horribly wrong.” Clay informed them.

“Dare I ask?”

“Boom.” Came the response from Cougar.

Stella snorted as Jake’s singing suddenly filled her ears. He was singing their song, loud and clearly and she could just picture him waltzing through the lobby, no doubt dancing to himself as he went.

“Up and down the boulevard…” and then it cut off, “I’m in the elevator.”

Stella emerged out of the stairwell on the third floor the pass in her hand and headed out to the elevator lobby. Thankfully, there were a group of women from the office on the opposite side of the building also waiting, which meant if one arrived which didn’t contain Jensen, she had a perfect opportunity to leave it alone.

But that wasn’t the case. The elevator door pinged open and there he was, tight black boxers were round his thighs, leaving him exposed, and an even tighter white undershirt clad to his sculpted upper body. He blinked as all the women started to eye him up, a few of them sniggering a little and he grinned goofily, hands on his hips. Giggles rang out as Stella sighed and pushed through, “Excuse me, I aint got all day to be waiting…” She slapped her hand against the buttons, selecting the top floor.

“Liking the angle of the dangle?”

More giggles sounded, and Stella turned to look at Jake who grinned at her as the door shut.

“The angle of the dangle, seriously?” she scoffed as he hastily pulled his boxers up.

“It was an accident, they came down… with my shorts!” He protested as he continued to rummage in his bag.

“Flashing people in the elevator…” Stella shook her head and gave a tut, “mind you, least now you have a ready made excuse to-“

“Mr Anderson….” Jake spoke suddenly into the Bluetooth earpiece, “this is Richard Hertz from internal security, I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to make your way to the main lobby…” Jensen spoke into his phone as he pulled out a pair of slacks, “Well it’s a matter of somewhat sensitive nature involving an individual…exposing himself to women in the elevator…”He arched a brow at Stella as he fastened the buttons on the waist band and she rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Nasty business really, Best disgusting person…I’ll see you there…”

At that, he whipped out his ear piece and grinned as Stella, “bingo.”

“Richard Hertz?” Pooch spoke in their ears, “Dick Hurts..”

Jensen shrugged, pulling a shirt on over his head. He managed to get himself dressed just in time as the elevator stopped and opened on the top floor. They made their way to the glass door which led into the HR office, Jensen stopping to open it for a very harassed looking Frank Anderson.

“Thank you,” Anderson nodded to Jake who smiled, before he winked at Stella as they headed in, turned right and walked straight into the receptionist area of Anderson’s office.

“Hi…” Jake beamed as the brunette turned to look up from her typing, “I’m Skippy from tech support…” he tapped his badge, “this is Sarah Connor who’s my trainee…”

At that Stella simply smiled, as the woman looked at them questioningly.

“We’re here to install the firewall on Anderson’s system.” Stella finished.

“Oh, you just missed him…but if you want you could come back in like…an hour?” The receptionist smiled and Jake flicked his tongue and Stella bit her lip, shaking her head.

“We gotta do it now or his computer is gonna be out of sync with the rest of the network.” Stella answered.

“Yeah, we can be in and out in two minutes, he doesn’t even have to be there…” Jake shook his head, gestured with his hand as he started to walk past her desk, Stella following.

“Yeah, but…you-“

“Upstairs are riding us…” Jake cut over her protests, “thank you…”

“Yeah, we appreciate this…” Stella beamed, following him.

“Sir…Ma’am…”

“I like your…dress.” Jake smiled before they left the bemused woman in the other room.

“I like your dress?” Stella sniggered out of the corner of her mouth.

“I know, too much.” Jake shook his head with a sigh as he placed the briefcase on the desk, retrieving the flash drive from his pocket, plugging into the port on one of the desk top computers.

“Okay, we’re in…” Stella muttered into the comms as Jake plugged started tapping at the keyboard in front of him, muttering to himself. He continued tapping, his blue eyes focused on the lines of code and algorithms as Stella’s flashed between his and the door.

“Downloading it now,” Jensen muttered as he gave a final click of the mouse. “Okay babe, got it…” he pulled the drive from the computer, snapped it into his briefcase…and then froze as Stella looked behind him to the door.

“Skippy?”

Jensen’s eyes widened before he fixed a grin on his face and turned…

“Yeah…ohh…shit!” He trailed off, the security guard was huge.

“Really?” The man scoffed, and Stella stepped forward.

“Oh…wow.”

“Alright, I know this probably doesn’t look good, but…” before Stella could finish, Jensen had whacked the security guard in the face with the briefcase.

“Run!” He grabbed Stella’s hand.

“Jake, I’m in four inch heels!” She hissed, stumbling a little as he dragged her behind him, ignoring the looks from the various people as they ran, dodging amongst the desks and down the various little corridors.

“Clay! We need that exit!” Jake yelled.

“Circle round the north side of the building, you’ve got cover…”

They kept running, occasionally throwing glances behind them, until they reached the same doors Anderson had passed them through.

Stella hit the elevator call buttons, “come on…come on…” she tapped them repeatedly, Jake doing the same on the one a bit further up before they heard feet and the cocking of guns.

“Freeze!”

Both immediately stuck their hands in the air and spun round to see three security guards, all pointing guns at them.

“Wow, this got serious…” Jake sighed as Cougar muttered in his ear.

“Right behind you…I’ll tell you when I’m clear for a non lethal…”

They both turned, and spotted the only place Cougs could be, in another high rise a few blocks away. It was a long range shot but…if anyone could take it, it was him. The two of them exchanged a glance, and then spun back, hands still in the air as they faced the men.

Stella was just about to try and get the men talking, buy Cougar time to line his shot up, when besides her, Jake moved his arms down, making finger guns with both his hands.

“I’m warning you…” his voice was low and gritty, “I am a lethal killing machine. It was a secret government experiment and they did stuff to me…” he cracked his neck a little to the side as his tone remained serious.

But besides him, Stella was anything but. What Jake was saying made her want to laugh, so badly. He really was an absolute idiot…but she also knew he was buying time, time to let Cougar sort his aim, just as she had planned to do.

But his next line, well it was too much

“Spooky stuff.” He cocked his head again with a little tut and sigh, “anal stuff.”

He said it with such seriousness that she couldn’t help but snort. One of the guards looked at her as she tried desperately to stop the laughter, coughing hastily in an attempt to cover it up.

“Turned me into a dangerous telekinetic.” Jake continued. “As the ancient Tibetan philosophy states…don’t start none, won’t be none…”

Silence as all three guards stared at them, Jake still pointing his fingers at them. The security guard on the right sighed, stowed his gun, and moved for his cuffs.

“Telekinetic your way outta this…”

“I got a shot…right…”

With a little smirk, Jake jerked his right hand, “pow…” and simultaneously Cougar's bullet hit the guard, sending him sprawling.

Stella ducked as the one to the left went next, Jake ‘shooting’ him again, “boom,” a smirk on his face as he too went down. This left the one in the middle, staring at his fallen colleagues and then Jake as Stella stood up again.

“He’s serious…” She looked at the man as Jake moved his arms, dramatically pointing both hands straight forward. The guard raised his own in surrender.

“Face down…” Jensen growled, “or I’ll make ya heart stop beatin’ with ma mind.”

As the guard did what he said, Stella sweeping forward to pick up all three guns, Jake burst out laughing and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Thank you, Cougar…” he grinned, signalling to him through the window. Neither he, nor Stella could see him from where they were, but they knew he’d be tipping his hat.

Miraculously, they made it to the first floor, and from there into the service stairwell, and out into the service bay where an old van was waiting. The side door slid open, they dived inside, and it was only then that Stella allowed herself a sigh of relief. She glanced at Jake, who was sharing a hi-five with Clay.

“Anal stuff, huh?” Pooch arched a brow, turning to face them from the drivers seat.

Stella burst into a fit of giggles and Jake looked at her, before he too started to laugh. The pair of them continued, till they had tears rolling down their faces.

*****

“So what’s the news?” Wade asked as he looked at Evan, who was grinning as he sat in the passenger seat of the armed Humvee.

“It went exactly as our guy said. They hit, got the algorithm.” Evan replaced his phone in his pocket.

“And that’s good…”

“Yeah, because it’s going to lead them right where we want them to be.” Evan turned to him. “Trust me, Wade.”

Wade eyed him for a moment, before he turned back to watch the LA traffic as it dawdled along in front of them.

“Couple of days and this will all be over for good.” Evan nodded, his hand tapping the dash.

“Whatever you say.” Wade mumbled as he drove forward a little.

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

Evan chuckled, a smirk spreading across his face. “Smart guy.”

91 notes · View notes

coverupps · 3 years ago

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The tears 🥹🥹🥹🥹

This was so absolutely beautiful and incredibly well done I could not have imagine this part of their life any better myself♥️

I am so glad these two now have their chance and true happiness and you can tell they love it too! Lucy Jo doesn’t know how much she is love!!

I cannot wait to see what happens next with this beautiful little family I love them and your writing like always 🤩

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 22

Summary: You and Andy celebrate impending parenthood…and then welcome your new addition.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

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 the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer. I do not consent to my work being translated or posted elsewhere. If you see this fiction on any site other than Tumblr it has been taken without permission.

W/C: 7.3k

A/N: Thanks to my beta @spectre-posts

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 21

Keep reading

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coverupps · 3 years ago

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Eeeekkk I was so excited was this and it did not disappoint 🤩

You are breaking my heart with ransom💔 one minute I hate him for what he did and then the next minute I feel for him! You can see how much he still lives his girl you can just sense his regret!!

I also love that they have now had their first encounter with eachother again but under these circumstances!!! like Harlan says Ari better pull through or I don’t know what I’ll do😭

I just need these two to get back together, ransom and ari need to sort Steve the fuck out and then everyone can play happy families…right🥴

I’m also loving all these cameos! Sam, jake and max!!! Just keeps getting better!

This was another incredible chapter and you know how much I love this story!!!! Can’t wait to see what happens nexts 💕

Brothers In Arms

Part 5: I Guess I Like It Like That

Co-written/beta by @spectre-posts

Summary: Following his beating from Ari, Ransom tries to go about his business as normal. But when someone close to you both is injured, your paths cross again. And the reunion doesn’t go quite as well as he hoped.

Warnings: Bad language words. Talks of blood and injury. NSFW 18+. Contains Dark themes which may or may not be triggers.

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader/ MOB DARK Steve Rogers x Reader.

W/C: 5.3k

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 4: Put Yourself In My Place

The day after Ari had come to see him, Ransom had sent your car over with Carter and a box of your personal things. It broke him to watch it go, but he knew he had no choice. Nearly a week after the spy's visit, Ransom was leaving with his own tail between his legs and his head hung low for you to come collect the rest of your belongings.

When he returned to your once shared home later that evening, he wasn’t surprised to see you’d taken the bare minimum. Whilst you had loved the finer things, allowed him to buy you expensive dresses, shoes and jewelry, you’d always insisted you didn’t need them. Instead you had taken a few outfits for work, jeans, sweaters, trainers, your books and some trinkets. The diamonds, gold, Jimmy Choos and Louboutins, the Gucci, Dolce and Armani remained in what had been your shared walk in closet.

Looking around at the room in its lack of disarray bothered him. He expected haste and dropped items, opened drawers and shuffled neatness. He headed for the en-suite and found nothing had been touched. He picked up the vase of Pampas from the counter and hurled it towards the tub, the glass smattering against the marble.

“Boss?” A soft voice spoke from the doorway and Ransom turned to look at Carter.

“Whatever she hasn’t taken, box up and get rid of it.” He spoke simply as he swept from the room, heading down to his study.

"Yes, sir," Carter nodded.

In his study, Ransom skipped the glass and went straight to the bottle of scotch as he stood, leaning against the fireplace. His eyes stung against the healing green bruise on his face, the smattered and reset lining of his nose burned with emotion and the gash on his lip was threatening to split back open if he bit it any harder.

It wasn't his ribs, still broken, that ached and bit at his insides, it was reality that had finally hit home. He’d lost the best thing to ever happen to him, you. The girl who had seen through his bullshit and wormed her way into his life so seamlessly, it was as if he had known you since the day he had been born.

A long, long pull of the bottle gave him a burn as if it were forming an ulcer down his throat. Thoughts and images flooded his mind and if he closed his eyes, all he could see was the pain on your face as he left you there in your shared bed, destroyed and un-engaged.

He had done exactly what he had sworn never to do; hurt you. He had refused to listen to your explanation, instead he’d reacted in a way that now shamed him. And he wasn’t used to feeling that. He didn’t like it. Shame equaled guilt, guilt equaled weakness. But that’s what you were to him, a crack in his armour.

Carter's second, Blanc, asserted himself in the doorway with a clearing of his throat. "Sorry, boss," he started, "but we need to get going. You have that meeting uptown with Chi and his crew."

“Right…” Ransom took another large pull from the bottle before he placed it on the table, “Stark meeting us there?”

"So I'm told." The man nodded.

Ransom made a noise of understanding, before he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out his pistol. Checking it was loaded, he clicked the safety on and tucked it into the waistband of his blue tweed slacks. He picked up his camel coat, scarf, and then gave Blanc a jerk of his head. “Let’s go.”

With his mind occupied with business, you sat still in the forefront, shrouded by a dark shade. This meeting was important, only set to further cement his dealings with Stark, thereby keeping his brother at bay. Chi was to help enforce muscle at the docks.

But half way through the meeting, he was forced to push you from his mind as Chi said something that had his blood boiling.

“What do you mean, your price has doubled?”

“Exactly what I said,” the man leaned back, exhaling his cigar smoke into the air of the conference room. “It was three million, now it’s six.”

“Eat shit,” Ransom scoffed.

“Take it or leave it.”

“Then we’ll leave it, get someone else.” Stark shrugged.

“Good luck with that,” Chi smirked, “from what I hear, we’re the only option you have left seeing as Rogers has been very vocal with his intentions to get the Maximoffs on board.”

"What did you just say?" Ransom growled.

“Your dearest brother is making moves to partner with the Maximoffs and people are seeing it as a direct challenge to you,” Chi arched a brow, “you surely can’t be telling me you didn’t know.”

“Course I knew, I’ve got Stark, so he has a gap to plug, I just fail to see your point?” Ransom snapped.

“My point is, if he succeeds, ain’t nobody this side of the country that will get in the middle of that feud, well, except me. For the right price.”

"Listen here you cum stain trash, you take the three million or I'm going to make sure every fucking container you expected with your name on it goes right back from where it came, no matter the cost."

It was a real threat, given Chi's dealings were in trafficking of 'fragile' goods that could 'expire' in timely fashion.

“Five, final offer.” Chi took a sip from his glass that lay on the table, “and I’ll forget your little threat.”

"Four." Stark deadpanned.

“Done,” Chi nodded.

“Just like that?” Ransom scoffed, “my brother can’t be that much of a threat…”

“The look on your face tells me otherwise.” Chi snorted, “truth be told, I was happy to do it for three, but…I’m a business man after all. That said, you’d do well to heed my warning. If he does get the Maximoff twins on board, you’ll have a hard task convincing anyone else to go up against them.”

And just like that the meet was through. Chi and his men vacated the office leaving one guard, Stark, his man "Happy", Langley and Ransom.

Langley, who'd been quiet until now looked at his boss. "The threat's credible. And you can't afford to be going toe to toe with Rogers and the Maximoffs, boss."

“Fuck them and fuck him.” Ransom snapped. “Wire Chi the money. We're done."

Langley pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and walked out of the room. Ransom and Stark were next, Happy in protection formation as they went.

Ransom climbed into the waiting car and sank back into the leather seat, his hand running down his face.

"Fucking shit show. Who the fuck does Chi think he is? Six million, fucking shit stain."

"He's right about one thing," Langley snorted.

Ransom glared, "Well, don't leave my dick wet."

"Well, as you pointed out, you aligning with Stark has taken Steve’s prime ‘logistics’ partner off the table.” Langley shrugged, “and by hiring the Maximoffs, he’s making a straight shot across the bow, that he doesn’t give a fuck who he partners with as long as it makes life hard for you. I mean, Pieter and Wanda did him dirty over that drugs deal in Sokovia, really ripped him off. But, by getting into bed with them, well, he’s letting it be known that he means business, and woe betide anyone who gets in his way. I'll give Rogers credit. He knows how to fuck with you."

The last line echoed round Ransom’s head, and with a snarl he gripped Langley round the throat and slammed him into the side of the car door. “That supposed to be funny?”

Langley gagged for air, "no."

Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw tick, and then a soft voice spoke from the front.

“Boss, he didn’t mean anything by it, let him go.”Carter's words were clear as he looked over his shoulder at him. Blanc sat stoic behind the wheel.

Ransom let go of Langley and slunk back into his seat.

"Home, boss?" Carter wondered.

"No."

“Okay, where?”

"Just drive."

“Right you are.” Blanc nodded.

Blanc circled the city limits for nearly an hour, the holiday season lights taunting Ransom, a reminder of how much you loved it all. Never one really to understand the fuss, he’d embraced it because you had. Now, it loomed before him, a reminder of what he had lost, and he took a deep breath. You’d both agreed to spend Thanksgiving this year in Boston, but now, well he wanted nothing but to cancel his flight the next evening and wallow in his own pity with a bottle of scotch. Eventually, Ransom instructed Blanc to turn back toward home.

He barely spoke a word to anyone as he headed back inside, retreating once more to his scotch and memories and bitter anger at how he fucked everything up, just how everyone had expected him to.

"You want dinner, boss?" Carter wondered as he poked his head into the room.

Ransom raised his tumbler and shook it, "got it right here."

Carter opened his mouth to say something but closed it and shook his head with a sigh before he left.

Ransom sat, miserable and pouting, thinking. He thought about you and wondered how you were. He thought about Ari and as his wounds started to hurt just at the notion of your brother, what he heard were those words, "I'm going to kill him." Words that he himself had spoken, ones he intended to keep.

The question was, how? Since you’d left, he’d been racking his brains, trying to figure out a way to get past his Steve’s security detail. And apparently, so was your brother. But he’d heard nothing from Ari, and the problem was, Steve’s guard was as tight as his own. How Rumlow had managed to pull off the botched hit that killed Peggy, Ransom had no idea. And he couldn’t simply ask the hitman, as he was dead.

"Carter…" He shouted.

Carter appeared once more in the doorway he had vacated fifteen minutes or so before hand. “Boss?”

"I need a chat with our special agent," he grimaced. "And find out from Stark on when I can pay a visit to his office."

“You didn’t ask Stark before?” Carter looked at him.

Ransom glared. "No."

“Alright,” Carter nodded. “I’ll make the calls.”

“Ask Levinson if he’s made any headway, he’s been trying to find a way in…if he’s half the agent he brags about being then he should have one by now.”

“On it,” Carter nodded and disappeared.

Ransom watched him go, before he reached for the scotch, poured himself another glass and then leaned back in his chair, once more losing himself to his brooding.

*****

You sat in the small restaurant, pushing your food around your plate. You’d weren’t hungry, not in the slightest, but Ellie had insisted on bringing you for dinner.

“So how long is Mr Not-so-tall, but reasonably dark and handsome gonna be watching your ever move for? You gonna be setting a place for him for Christmas?” Your friend jerked her head towards the man sat a few tables away, nursing a coffee and a burger.

"Until he's asked not to," you sighed. “And he joined us for thanksgiving so…”

“Right…”

"Look, Ellie, it's complicated."

Ellie popped a shoulder, “whatever, I’m not asking. I don’t wanna know…”

"It's better that way."

“So, have you heard from him?”

"No. Ari told me when I could get my stuff, so that's what I did. That was a few weeks ago now.”

“And…are you okay with that? I mean, I don’t particularly like the guy but…”

"I don't know."

Ellie looked at you for a moment, before she took a deep breath. “Is it definitely beyond repair?”

Your eyes misted over, "I..I think so, yeah."

Truth be told, despite the fact you understood Ransom’s anger, you didn’t think you would be able to forgive him. Not simply for the physical way he had hurt you, but the way in which he had refused to listen. He’d dismissed your explanation, had reverted to that cold and callous business persona that had never breached your personal relationship before. And that hurt you the most.

“Y/N…what happened? You keep dodging it when I ask.” She reached over the table for your hand, giving it a squeeze, “I’m your best friend, you can tell me.”

You swallowed. "Ellie, I know. But for once, it's better you don't."

“Okay.” She fell silent and then cocked her head to the side, “you wanna watch a movie or something after this?”

“Erm,” you glanced over towards Sammy, one of your brother’s colleagues from the CIA and you popped a shoulder, “Ari should be home when we get back but, sure, we can use the den.”

“Where’s he been?”

“I dunno,” you said, and it wasn’t a complete lie. It had been a week or so ago when he had taken a call from someone whilst you had sat eating dinner and when he came back, he had waved away your question. You could tell he was keeping something from you, and you had a horrible feeling it was to do with Steve and Ransom.

The next morning, he’d told you he was going to be on business for a while, and that was the last you’d seen of him whilst he’d left you with a twenty-four hour armed babysitter.

You eyed Sammy answer his phone and listen to the other line. He twitched a little, spoke lowly and then hung up. He then glanced in your direction, and you could see from his expression something was wrong. Sammy stood from his table and immediately came to yours, he leaned down in your ear and whispered, "we gotta go."

“We’ve not finished!” Ellie glared at him.

"It's an emergency, Eloise," Sammy snorted. "The bill is covered."

“This…I…oh, whatever.” Ellie scoffed.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke softly, your heart heavy as you stood up. “I’ll call you…”

"Yeah.... if I answer." She sighed.

Sadness filling your chest, you went as Sammy took you outside by your elbow. The car pulled around, Kabede at the wheel. He opened the door for you and you slid in, Sammy coming round to the driver's side back door and slid in next to you.

“What’s going on?” You demanded.

"Ari's in trouble."

You swallowed, “what…what sort of trouble? What do you mean?”

"I don't know." Sammy replied. "He's at St. Vincent's."

At that, your blood ran cold. “He’s…at the hospital?”

"Look, I need you to calm down, y/n. All I know is what I know. He's in trouble and they took him to St. Vincent's."

"Who told you? Where's he been? What's going on, Sam? I have the right to know."

"Jake and Max. They were..."

Before Sammy could finish his answer, you heard your phone in your bag. Scrabbling for it, wondering if it was the hospital you paused as a number you shouldn’t remember but did flashed on your screen.

“Who is it?” Sammy asked.

“Him…” you whispered, your hands shaking. “It’s…”

“Rogers?”

You nodded.

“Answer it, put it on speaker.” Kabede instructed from the driver’s seat.

"Hello?"

“You know, Doll, for a supposed secret agent, your brother has all the subtlety of a panzer.” Came the drawl on the other end and you swallowed, your eyes brimming with tears.

“What did you do to him?”

"My hands are clean, Buck's however..."

You glanced at Sammy who was clenching his teeth.

“Likes to play with knives, does Bucky, bad habit“, Steve continued. “People get hurt. Badly. Sometimes, they die…”

You went pale and a cold sweat formed at your brow. "Is he...did Barnes kill him?"

At that, Steve chuckled, “not as far as I know, don’t think he went deep enough to hit any vital organs but…if he didn’t make it to the hospital in time, who knows.”

"What do you want, Steve? This has gone too far." You held back a sob.

“You had your chance to finish this, you blew it.” Steve replied, his voice calm as he spoke, “but you know what I want. You. And I always get what I want, one way or another. The question is, how many more people are you willing to sacrifice before that happens, because I can do this all day, sweetheart.”

The line went dead and you swallowed before shouting at Kabede to pull over. He barely had the car to a stall when you threw your door open and let go of what little was in your stomach. Sammy was by your side in a flash, eyes scanning around your surroundings.

With a groan, you shakily stood up straight, tears in your eyes as you looked at Sammy. “Let’s get you to the hospital,” he spoke softly, “then we can find out how he is.”

St. Vincent's was busy, more than usual for the time of day, so, Kabede headed around the back where Max and Jake met you. Jake was covered in blood as was Max and immediately Sammy scolded them both.

"What are ya thinking? You couldn't have changed your god damn shirt." He scowled. "Get in there, get her up to see him and keep her close."

“We got a problem,” Max looked at him. “Police are sniffing all over this, one of the nurses called them.”

“Fuck.” Sammy hissed.

“We can call base,” Jake said, “get them to have the cops cool off but…look, I don’t know what he was doing but I know it’s off book so-“

“No, don’t…” you pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead as you swallowed, and pulled Sammy to one side, “call Tony, he and…he and Ransom have half the police force in their pockets. He’ll know what to do.”

Frankly you couldn’t have given a shit if the entire NYPD came swarming in, but what you did care about was this going any further. Who knows what Steve would do if the authorities started sniffing around him too much, not to mention the shit storm that would hit Ari.

If he survived…

“I just wanna see him,” you sniffed, “please.”

Sam nodded, "Stark it is." He passed you off to Jake, "take her up."

Wordlessly, you followed Jake into the hospital and through to the elevator. Your mind was racing, your heart thudding. You couldn’t lose your brother, he was the only thing you had left.

"He's in surgery, but we wait here, he'll be out soon." Jake explained. "He'll pull through, he always does."

"What the hell happened, Jake?"

Jake shook his head, “I don’t honestly know. He was working on something, off radar, but he called saying he needed to speak to us, he’d found something and he wanted us to check it out but when we arrived to meet him at the house, well, he was on the doorstep covered in blood.”

"This is all my fault," you sobbed as you fell into a chair, your head in your hands.

“Look, I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on, not sure I want to.” Jake sighed, “but Ari is a law unto himself, you know this.”

"Mr. Morano," a middle-aged blonde woman with Eastern features appeared. "I'm Dr. Reiter. It's my understanding you're here for Mr. Thomas?"

“I’m his sister…” you immediately stood.

“Ms. Thomas, I'm so sorry for us to meet under these circumstances. You brother, Mr. Thomas, is being moved into recovery. He's in a bad way."

“How bad?”

"Well, he's quite lucky. There's no denying that one quick movement in the opposite direction, he'd have bled out. It was almost as if his attacker knew exactly where to hit and what to miss.”

You swallowed, your conversation with Steve running back through your head and you took a deep breath.

“He always has been a lucky bastard,” Jake mumbled.

"Will he live?"

“He lost a lot of blood and we had to remove his spleen.” The Doctor sighed, “he also had three broken ribs but there were no complications in surgery. He’s not completely out of the woods but…well, we’ll know more over the next twenty four hours or so.”

"Thank you, Dr. Reiter." Jake nodded. "When can we see him?"

"Ten minutes, I'll have a nurse come for you."

You nodded and sank back into the chair, your head in your hands. This had gone too far, just way too far. You knew Steve was ruthless, absolutely despicable compared to his brother, but what was left for you to do? Could you turn back? Fall into Steve's embrace? Would it stop, even then? Ransom was through with you.

Lost in your thoughts, it took a gentle squeeze on your shoulder from Jake to jerk you from them. As you glanced up through your tears, you barely heard the nurse speak to you. You followed her on auto pilot to the room where Ari was and stepped inside.

He was led up in bed, an O2 tube down this throat and his veins being pumped full of blood and fluids that hung from bags on hooks. A steady beep came from the machine that monitored all his activity. The inhale and exhale of air from the machine hissed in the dim space.

You let out a loud sob as you stumbled into the chair by his bed, reaching for one of his hands. Gripping him tightly you cried into the blanket tucked in around him. You squeezed his hand as you sobbed apologies and whispers of shortcomings. You kept on like a broken record that his state was all your fault and you were to blame. You were sorry, so very sorry. You never meant to put him in this situation.

As the sun set outside, the room was illuminated by the soft fluorescent overhead lighting and you sat, numb, watching your brother for any sign that he could hear you. Then, after half an hour, there was a commotion outside that made your head whip round so fast you were sure you’d given yourself whiplash.

“You can’t go in there…”

“Eat shit.”

Sammy stood quickly to block your view of your incoming ex. You stood there behind him, uneasy and very aware of how your whole body shook in that moment. Fear, worry, pain and guilt all settled inside you and you again felt sick but stood tall, despite your unease and waited.

"Get the fuck back, Drysdale." Sammy declared.

Ransom scoffed, but his eyes then fell on you and you saw his face flicker with a look that you couldn’t quite place. He seemed to slide through several emotions in that split second your eyes connected; remorse, care, worry, compassion, an undercurrent of anger.

“Sam, it’s okay.” Your voice was croaky as you sniffed, “let him in.”

"You sure?" Sammy asked. "Cause if he's gonna be a problem..."

“You’re right outside.” you nodded, the turned to Ransom, “whatever you’re carrying, leave it outside.”

He held his hands up, "I got nothing."

You stared at him, those crystal blue eyes looked right back and you took a deep breath, you believed him.

“Fine.” You popped a shoulder and returned to your seat.You waited for him to speak, but of course he had nothing. "Well, you're here, for what I do not know. Clearly, you need something." You spat.

“Stark told me what happened.” He spoke after a moments pause. “The police have been handled.”

“That’s it?” You shook your head, not bothering to look over your shoulder to where he stood still by the door, “that’s why you came, to tell me the police had been handled? You’re so full of shit, Ransom, why don’t you tell me the truth.”

At that, he scoffed, “like you told me the truth about you and my brother you mean?”

"You son of a bitch," you stood so quick, you dizzied. "How dare you compare the two?"

Ransom stood still, his eyes on you as you advanced towards him. “Y/N…”

You cut him off with a stinging slap to his left cheek. His head snapped to the side, and then you lost it.

“This is all your fault!” You sobbed, your hands pounding at his chest as you hit blow after blow, “you and your brother and your stupid, stupid feud and shitty, shady dealings. I hate you, you asshole…you fucking asshole.”

Ransom stood there and took it, each blow as you gave it. You beat on him until your fists ached and your head grew woozy and you felt yourself falling as heavy arms caught you.

“Shit, here…sit…” he gently guided you to the chair, helping you awkwardly to sit down.

“Don’t touch me…” you feebly pushed him away.

He stepped back, hands raised in surrender as you pressed the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.

The door to the room opened and Sammy and Carter both stepped in.

“Y/N?”

“I need some water.”

“She needs a doctor.”

“Fuck off, you don’t get to tell me what I need.” You spat, looking at Ransom, “If I didn’t see a doctor after you raped me I don’t want to see one now.”

The room went silent as all eyes were on the two of you.

Ransom swallowed, his eyes fixed on yours before his head bowed, “I’m sorry.”

"You're too late."

“I know, but…” he shrugged, “I just wanted you to know.”

You licked your lips as your nostrils flared. Sammy slid your glass of water between you and your apologetic former other half. You downed the clear liquid quickly and with a shaking hand, handed it back to Sammy.

“I think you should go,” he spoke to Ransom.

"Y/N....." he whispered.

"Just go." You whispered.

Ransom took a deep breath, “you can’t go back to Ari’s. It’s not safe. I’ll have Stark find you somewhere.”

"I'll stay at the tower." You stated.

With that he nodded, and headed for the door. He paused, turned back to look at you, but whatever it was died on his tongue as his head dropped. He took a deep breath, and then he left.

Neither Sammy nor Jake said a word as the air thickened around the room. Ari was still out cold and Max was just outside the door. You sighed and carefully stood, "Send Kabede home to his family. There's plenty of you here to babysit me."

“Okay,” Sammy nodded, “erm, do you want one of us to fetch you some things from the house?”

"Sure. I guess, I don't know." You sighed. "I don't plan on leaving here any time soon."

Neither of them argued, or tried to convince you otherwise.

“I’ll grab a bag anyway, least you’ll have a change of clothes.” Max stated, his voice soft.

"I want a sweep and report back as soon as you're done. Anything out of place, and I mean anything as small as a blade of grass, I wanna know." Sammy stated, his finger in Max's face and his hand over his shoulder.

Max nodded as he left. Once he was gone, Sammy closed the door once more leaving you alone with your brother.

"What did you do?" You cried as you again were crouched over his bed, his cold, limp hand between your two warm ones. "I'm nothing to go to war over, Ari....."

Of course he didn’t answer, there was nothing in response but the steady beeping of the machinery. You lay your cheek on your arms, looking up at your brother, your eyes growing as heavy as your heart.

****

Steve tossed his jacket down on the back of the sofa, making his way to the drinks trolley which stood by the huge window of his Brooklyn penthouse. But, as he reached for the decanter, he found it empty.

“What the…”

“You could have gotten the decent stuff,” a familiar voice spoke and he whipped around to see his grandfather sat in the chair in the shadows of the room.

“I prefer that one.” Steve replied flatly.

“You always did have questionable taste,” Harlan sighed, as he clicked on the lamp to his left, “goes with your questionable judgment. Stabbing Levinson? Seriously? You stupid little shit.”

"He's a threat. I don't like threats." Steve raised a brow. "And I don't like it when unwelcome guests take my things."

“Like you took your brother’s fiancée you mean? Jesus Christ, Steven, you always have been a self-entitled little fucker but this…”

“Look, if you didn’t want me to hurt him, why did you tell me he was tailing me?”

“To stop you doing something stupid!” Harlan snapped, “because despite what you think, I don’t want to see you or Ransom dead or in jail. You’re my flesh and blood, both of you. But I swear to God, if Levinson dies, I’ll bury you myself. You’ll have lost me my security, the person that kept the authorities off our back.” Steve’s nostrils flared as his grandfather stood up, “Ari had every right to be pissed, what you did to that poor girl, it’s unforgivable, all to get at your brother. Your mother would be disgusted in you, and I sure as hell am.”

“He killed Peggy…I want him to suffer!”

“No, he didn’t, Steve.” Harlan shook his head, “he didn’t order that hit.”

"Ha, please," Steve scoffed. "There you go, always covering for him. Your precious Ransom, your pride and joy."

“Oh listen to yourself!” Harlan slowly walked towards him, “you sound like your father, he was a paranoid, woman beating piece of shit too. I should have had him killed long before he managed to do it to himself.”

"Why are you here old man?”

“You know, I had high hopes for both of you. When your mom came home, I was overjoyed. My family, back together but then…she died,” Harlan bowed his head, “and Linda and Richard took you both in but it just wasn’t enough. Not for you. I failed you, clearly, so I was trying to right a wrong. Ari wasn’t just tailing you, he was digging. Digging into who exactly ordered that hit. And he’d found something. Only your attack dog managed to shank him before he could tell me. So I repeat what I said before, he best pull through. Because if he doesn’t, the answers you need and want die with him.”

"Are you done?" Steve seethed as Harlan stared down at him.

"For now." He said simply and walked on. “Oh, there is one last thing…” he paused in the doorway and turned back to look at Steve.

Steve's hands fell to his hips in anticipation, bored anticipation at that.

“I want you in Boston tomorrow afternoon. You come alone.”

“You do realise that Thanksgiving was last week…”

“I’m well aware of that.” Harlan snapped. “Stop being a facetious asshole, Steve. It doesn’t suit you.”

Silence fell, as Steve stared at the unwavering face of his Grandfather, before he sighed and shook his head. "You understand this ends one way, don't you?"

“I don’t want to see either of you dead, but if this carries on it’s inevitable.” Harlan stated, a resigned tone to his voice. “That said, I’m going to try one last time. It’s in both your interests to find out who ordered Rumlow to kill you. If I can get you to both see that, maybe you can work together. And whilst Ransom is never going to forgive you for what you did to his fiancée, maybe you can find a sliver of that brotherly love you once had growing up, if not for each other but the memory of your mother.”

Steve swallowed, the nerve in his jaw ticking.

“Boston, tomorrow.” Harlan instructed, “and stay the fuck away from Y/N. She’s suffered enough at the hands of both of you. You so much as send her a message, I’ll hand Ransom the fucking gun and watch.”

With a final quirk of his eyebrow, Harlan turned and left Steve staring at the empty space where he had stood.

392 notes · View notes

coverupps · 3 years ago

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Eeeekkk I don’t know how long I can’t wait for this I’m so excited!!!

Preview!

Brothers In Arms: I Guess I Like It Like That

"Get the fuck back, Drysdale." Sammy declared.

“Sam, it’s okay.” Your voice was croaky as you sniffed, “let him in.”

"You sure?" Sammy asked. "Cause if he's gonna be a problem..."

“You’re right outside.” you nodded, the turned to Ransom, “whatever you’re carrying, leave it outside.”

He held his hands up, "I got nothing."

You stared at him, those crystal blue eyes looked right back and you took a deep breath, you believed him.

“Stark told me what happened.” He spoke after a moments pause. “The police have been handled.”

At that, he scoffed, “like you told me the truth about you and my brother you mean?”

"You son of a bitch," you stood so quick, you dizzied. "How dare you compare the two?"

Ransom stood still, his eyes on you as you advanced towards him. “Y/N…”

You cut him off with a stinging slap to his left cheek. His head snapped to the side, and then you lost it.

Coming SOON!!!

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coverupps · 3 years ago

Text

Eeekk so excited to see my favourites back and better than ever!!!

Poor Mary 😕 it’s such a shitty time but all women have been there and this is such a great bonding opportunity for Mary and fliss!

Frank and Alex’s little relationship is the best and I love see Alex all grown up and seeing his new personality thrive!

And no matter how ‘old’ these to will be they will never fail to have the steamiest and sexiest moments 🥵

I’ve missed these 4 so much and it’s great to read about them again!

Riding Free

One Shot: Seeing Red

Summary: Frank struggles to deal with the fact Mary is growing up

Warnings: adult themes throughout (18+) Smut, NSFW. Discussions about puberty and adulthood (specifically women). Bad language.

A/N: they’re back!!!! Thanks to my beta @spectre-posts for reading this over!

Riding Free Masterlist // Main Masterlist

April 2023

Frank shut the door to his truck with a groan and cracked his neck. It had been a long ass day, from shuffling rotas around to cover an unexpected absence to mucking in with a particularly awkward engine filter repair. He glanced over, the yard was quiet and he could just see Monty and Cleo in one of the fields in the distance, clearly out for the night. He frowned a little; he was sure Fliss had said Mary wanted to ride that night when she came home from school. With a shrug of his shoulders, he grabbed his kit bag and made his round the back of the house.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called with a grin as he stepped in through the back door. He was greeted with a hello back, followed by the tip tap of Thor’s nails across the laminate and a loud yell from Alex.

“Daddy!”

Frank tossed his bag to the floor and walked through to the kitchen, grinning as he swung Alex into the air.

“Hey, Bean.” He chuckled, bringing him back down to settle on his hip. “You have a good day at nursery?”

“Not nursery, it’s school!” Alex corrected and Frank nodded.

“Of course,” he agreed, inwardly smiling at how much the three year old wanted to be like his soon to be thirteen year old elder sister. “That’s what I meant.”

“I pwayed in the sand pit and hads snacks.”

“Sounds like you had a busy day.” He kissed his son's cheek and made his way over to where Fliss and Mary were settled on the couch. He frowned a little as he saw Mary was snuggled up to Fliss, a blanket covering her legs. Fliss, who was gently running her hand through their daughter’s hair, turned to face him and smiled.

“Hey, Sailor.” She gave him a quick kiss as he bent down.

“Hey. You okay, Stack?”

A non-comital noise of acknowledgement came from the pre-teen who didn’t even look at him. He opened his mouth to make some sarcastic comment back, but Fliss gently shook her head and he stopped.

“Not feeling great, are you sweetheart?” Fliss merely replied. Mary shrugged.

“Okay…” Frank merely raised his eyebrows.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, bud?” Frank looked at Alex as his small hand was fiddling with the chain round his neck.

“We does Legos?”

“Yeah, we can play Lego.” Frank nodded, “let me shower first and then once I’ve had dinner we can play for a little while before bedtime.”

Alex beamed and kissed his cheek before Frank set him down. He headed off to the seat next to Mary and scrambled up besides her. She smiled at him as he lay down, his head resting against her.

“Is okay, May-May.” He looked at her, his little nickname making her chuckle a little, “mommy always makes fings feels better.”

“Okay, I need to check on dinner.” Fliss stated, and Mary sat up, “do you need anything?”

“No thanks, mom.”

Fliss stood up and Mary settled herself back down against the sofa. Frank followed Fliss to the kitchen, a questioning expression on his face.

“What-“

“Not now.” Fliss spoke softly, “I’ll explain later, if she doesn’t. Don’t push her though. It’s nothing bad just…”

Frank frowned, torn between demanding to know what was done and also not wanting to pry. He’d always tried to give Mary her space when possible.

“Nothing wrong with school is it?”

“No.” Fliss assured him.

“Alright, I won’t ask. Do you need a hand with dinner?”

“No, I got it.” Fliss winked, “go shower. It’ll be done by the time you are. Oh, you haven’t forgotten it’s Tuesday have you? I need to nip back to the yard at seven for two hours as I have the weekly evening lessons to do so…”

“No, I haven’t.” Frank kissed her cheek.

After a quick shower, Frank came down to dinner. Mary, although a little quiet, ate a good helping of the chicken parm Fliss had made before she retreated up to her room after being excused from her chore of stacking the dishwasher.

Once she was out of the way, Frank cleared the plates and as he rinsed them off he turned to Fliss.

“Okay, what’s the deal?”

“I got a call this afternoon to go collect her from school.” Fliss looked at him, holding her hand up to stop him interjecting, “she had a bad stomach ache. We got home, and then we found out she started her period.”

"Oh." Frank nodded, "that's uh,”

“Yeah,” Fliss arched a brow.

"How is she?" Frank wondered, suddenly immensely thankful he had Fliss for this stage in life, despite feeling old as hell now that his niece or adopted daughter whom he'd raised since six months old was now embarking on womanhood.

“She was…I don’t know.” Fliss took a deep breath. “It’s not like she didn’t know this would happen but it is very early. I mean she’s only just about to turn thirteen. She hasn’t said much, just took some painkillers and then helped me with the horses before we came back and snuggled up in front of the tv. Thing is, she’s so matter of fact when she knows I’m on…I’m…I dunno, I’m just not sure what’s going on in her head.”

"You know when she's ready she'll come to you. She's probably just as shocked as we are."

“Yeah,” Fliss bit her lip and then looked at her watch. “Shoot, I gotta go and get prepped. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t mention anything to Stack unless she does to you, okay? I spoke to the school they said she can do her work from home tomorrow. She’s already ahead which is no surprise so they’re not bothered.”

Frank nodded his head and sighed as Fliss pecked him and left.

His little girl, his Stack. Time was not being kind to him at the moment and a part of him wanted to go back to the beginning.Part of him wanted that baby girl back where it was just the two of them figuring it out. But that time was tough too, and he wouldn't change his life now. Not for anything.

With a groan, he dropped his hands to his hips and turned to see Alex watching him from over the back of the sofa.

“What have I told you about standing up on there?” He asked, brow arched.

The little boy just grinned and laughed with a big giggle as he stared at his dad.

“Alex…” Frank warned. “Sofas are for sitting on, not standing on. Butt on the cushion, now.”

Alex flopped down with a laugh as if it were a game.

“Pain in my ass,” Frank grumbled to himself and looked down at Fred who was winding himself through his legs. “You can get lost too, I know you’ve been fed already.”

"Daddy, yous mad?" Alex asked with his chin on the spine of the couch, clearly on his knees now.

“No, bean” Frank smiled at him, “now, do you still wanna play Lego?”

"Yep!"

“Okay, bath first then Lego for a little while before bed.”

"Otay!“

“Good stuff, race you to the bathroom…”

"Can'ts catch me!" Alex yelled as he ran as fast as his little legs would take him.

Frank followed behind, watching his son as he got to the stairs, instructing him to be careful. Alex reached the top and ran across the hall to the bathroom, but the door was locked.

“Mary?” Frank tapped on the door gently, “you in there, sweetheart?”

"Uh, yeah." Mary called back. "Where's Mom?“

“She’s working for a few hours,” Frank replied, “do you err, do you need something or…”

"Uh, no, I mean…yeah," she groaned. Frank heard shuffling and the door cracked open. "Can you get me some new underwear and pj bottoms?" Mary asked, her eyes welling and her cheeks blushing from embarrassment.

Frank felt a swoop in the pit of his stomach, a pang of sympathy at the look on her face and he nodded.

“Run yourself a bath, and I’ll pop them on the side. Promise I won’t look okay?”

Mary sniffed, "Okay."

Then Frank looked down at Alex, "you take a bath in Mommy's tub tonight, Pal."

Alex ignored him as he looked at his sister. “May May, why yous cry?”

"I'm okay, I just don't feel good." Mary replied.

“Yous sick?”

"Sorta."

“Enough with the questions,” Frank placed a hand on Alex’s head and turned him round. “Go find your pyjamas.”

“Deys in my draws!” Alex stated as he started walking across the hall, “I cants open them!” He stopped and turned to look at Frank, hands on his little hips.

"Jesus you are your mother," he snorted. "Give me a minute to help Mary."

“I wants my horsey jammies, pwease daddy.” Alex stated before he turned and headed into his room.

"Right," Frank made a mental note and went into Mary's room.

He dug through her drawers, found a pair of purple checked pajama bottoms, and just in case grabbed the matching top. He then found her a pair of panties before he headed back to the bathroom.

True to his word, he opened the door and reached inside, his face turned away as he dropped them into the counter.

“Thanks, dad.” came the meek reply.

"Sure thing, Stack." He closed the door again and headed into Alex’s room to find his son giggling as he was on the floor, covered by his duvet.

"Alex..... Alex, where'd you go?" Frank played along.

Another little giggle.

"Alex?" He looked in the closet. "Alex?" He looked under the bed.

“Raaaaar!” Alex whipped the duvet off his head, roaring loudly.

Frank gave a fake yelp of fright and dropped to his knees. Alex dived on him, tackling him backwards and the pair of them fell to the floor, Alex cackling as they wrestled around, Frank laughing as Alex attempted to pin him down.

Fits and fits of giggles and Frank's deep laugh filled the boy's room up until it felt like the walls around them shook. For a moment growing old and Mary growing up was forgotten.

“Daddy, d’ya give?” Alex cackled and a stray, sock clad foot dug into Franks gut, making him grunt and huff out a breath.

“Yeah, yeah I give!” Frank lay flat on the floor, surrendering. Starfished and panting heavily, Frank chuckled as Alex laid on top of him, a light but dead weight across his chest.

"Can I has my trucks in my bafs?"

“Course you can, Bean.” Frank leaned up and kissed his auburn hair. “Grab the ones you want.”

In a matter of minutes, Alex had his trucks and Frank had collected his night clothes, the youngest Adler leading the way to the master en-suite where Fliss' bath awaited. Frank turned on the water, poured in some of Fliss’ bubble bath and Alex grinned.

“You’s naughty, that’s mommy’s.” He giggled.

"For you, I doubt she'd care," Frank snorted.

“That’s coz I’m mommy’s bestest boy.”

“You are.” Frank chuckled, as he knelt down. “And what’s Mary?”

“Her bestest girl!”

“Smaht guy.” Frank nodded, “arms up, bud.”

Alex obliged and Frank pulled his t-shirt over his head. “And what’s daddy?”

“Her sailor!”

"And Mommy's my...."

"Cowgirl!"

Frank grinned as Alex stepped out of his little denim shorts and leaned over to look at the water in the tub. “I gets in now!”

"Yep, in you go!"

Frank helped Alex climb in and then settled down with a groan on the floor of the bathroom, watching as Alex entertained himself. His back and knees were aching from the days work and his run that morning, making him feel every one of his forty-two years of age.

“Daddy’s getting old, bud.” He sighed out as Alex dropped one of his toys into the water, splashing him a little.

"Yous nots old, Grandmother olds."

At that Frank laughed loudly, “I’ll tell her you said that.”

Alex's eyes grew wide, "No Frank!"

Frank arched his brow, “what you gonna give me to keep my mouth shut?”

"Nuggles forever?"

“You got yourself a deal.” Frank held his hand out and Alex grinned and shook it.

“Nanny isn’t old.” he continued with his three year old worldly observations.

“No. What about Pappa B?”

Alex pondered. “Hmm a bits.”

Frank laughed, "oh bud, you have no idea."

A timid voice cleared their throat and Mary appeared in the doorway. "Dad..."

Frank turned and smiled, “hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

"My uh, my... Can I have some more medicine? It's hurting really bad again and I just want to go to bed.”

“Yeah, hang on.” He pushed himself up off the floor, “keep your eye on him and I’ll just grab you some from the cabinet.” He moved to the door and stopped, pressing a kiss to Mary’s head before he wandered down to the kitchen. He grabbed the Advil and headed back up the stairs, passing her the box. “Keep them on your nightstand just in case.”

"Okay, thanks Dad. I love you," Mary wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. "Sorry if this is weird."

“Mary, honey, it’s not weird.” Frank chuckled as he hugged her back, “it’s part of life, sucks but…” he pulled back and cupped her face, “just means you’re growing up. Far too quickly for my liking. Next you’ll be into boys and dating…” he wrinkled his nose, “or girls…or…actually, whatever floats your boat but the point still stands”.

"It's weird for me and really gross."

Frank looked at her for a moment, “look, I can’t pretend I know what you feel like, because clearly, being a man I lack ovaries and a vagina…” At that Mary scoffed and he winked, “but I do know what it’s like to have certain parts of your body do things you can’t control…” he took a deep breath, before he shook his head, “look, that’s…well, the point I’m trying to make is that you shouldn’t feel like that. It’s nothing to feel freaked about but I get it. You are very young for this to start but…” he shrugged, “you always have been a fast developer mentally, guess physically you are too.”

“Whassa vir-jiy-na?” A little voice asked from the tub.

Mary sputtered a laugh before she howled, "oh my God!"

Frank groaned, “your mom is gonna kill me.”

****

By the time Fliss had finished and locked the yard up for the night it was half nine. With a last check around, she whistled to Thor and the two of them made their way back over to the house. As she walked in, Frank looked up from where he was sat watching TV and smiled.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” Fliss smiled, “they’re well attended classes. I’m thinking of putting another few on, maybe another night but I need to sit and work it out, see if it suits us both.”

Frank shrugged, “if there’s demand, honey, we can work it.”

Fliss beamed and moved to give him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna shower and I’ll be right down. Pour me a glass of wine will you?”

“What did your last slave die of?” Frank teased, his lips brushing hers and Fliss chuckled.

“Keep going and you’ll find out.”

Frank snorted as she left the room, his eyes following her until she was out of sight. Her first stop was Alex’s room. The little boy was fast asleep, snuggled up to his stuffed dog as he lay on his side. Fliss gently rearranged his duvet a little before she kissed his head and then made her way to Mary’s room.

She tapped on the door and Mary told her to come in.

“Hey, babe. How you feeling?” Fliss asked, crossing the newly carpeted floor within the freshly painted room and perched on the side of the double bed. They’d redecorated a few weeks or so ago after Mary had requested a little more grown up decor in her space. It had killed Frank, but of course he’d said yes, the room hadn’t been done since they’d moved in before Alex was born. His nursery had also undergone an overhaul when he’d outgrown his crib so it was inevitable Mary would also follow suit as she too was fast growing up.

“I’m okay,” she looked up from the book she was reading. “Dad gave me some medicine and then made me a hot chocolate and a heat pack.”

“Yeah, he’s good like that.” Fliss smiled, “so you talked to him then?”

“Sorta…I had an…accident, needed to change.” Mary looked down at her hands and Fliss took a deep breath.

“Shit happens, Stack. Being a woman sucks sometimes, but don’t worry about it, okay? It’ll soon become just one of those things and… there are some upsides, too.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially and Mary looked at her.

“Like what?”

“Well, for a week you basically get to be a moody madam and slob on a sofa, eating junk during your free time and get someone to wait on you hand and foot.”

Mary grinned and then sighed, “I just…it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey,” Fliss gently cupped her face, “it does, talk to me.”

“It’s gross, and there…it feels dirty.”

“It’s not, honey. It’s just normal. As long as you take showers it’s not an issue. And, well, when you get older there are things you can try other than pads that mean it doesn’t even come out so to speak. Tampons, like what I use.”

“What if I…you know, the pad leaks…during the night or at school or…”

“During the night, so what?” Fliss shrugged, “your bedding will wash if needs be, so will your clothes. And as for the other issue, well we make sure you have a spare few things in your school bag, and you can always call me and your dad or tell one of your teachers, you like Mrs Green, she will understand.”

Mary sniffed and nodded. Then she looked at Fliss, “none of my friends have…you know…”

“Sometimes that’s just how it works.” Fliss shrugged, “you can’t compare yourself, sweetheart, everyone is different.” Mary nodded again and Fliss smiled. “Do you need anything else before I go for a shower?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you some more pads in your bathroom cupboard and tomorrow we can go stock up on your own supplies, okay?”

“Okay, thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome,” Fliss stood up and kissed Mary’s head. “Sweet dreams, Stack.”

Fifteen minutes later, a freshly showered Fliss headed downstairs in a pair of sleep shorts and a cami and flopped down next to Frank, who nodded to a full glass of wine on the table.

“Thank you,” she sighed, leaning over to pick it up. Frank automatically raised his arm so she could snuggle up next to him. His fingers gently ran up and down her bare arm. “So, Mary said she talked to you.”

“Yeah.” Frank took a pull from his beer. “She apologised to me for it being weird.” He shook his head. “I mean, I told her it wasn’t but…it is. Not because she’s started but…she’s so young, Lissy!”

"Oh Sailor," Fliss chuckled. "I know. I felt the same way when they called me."

“How old were you when…”

“Fifteen.” Fliss sipped her wine, “I had a good few years on her.”

"So is this abnormal?"

"God no, Babs was twelve. It's a bit of a wide range."

“Fuck, I wouldn’t be a woman if you paid me.”

"Well you’d make an ugly one so..."

“Screw you,” he looked at Fliss as she laughed.

"Awe don't pout," she soothed. "Look, Mary is just fine. It'll take some time to get in a regular routine with it all, it's sporadic the first few times, but eventually she and I can make sure she knows how to be prepared for when the next comes. I'll take her to the store tomorrow to pick up some stuff of her own. Try to make it a little fun for her."

“How can you make that fun?” Frank arched a brow.

Fliss again chuckled, "picking out her own stuff, answering any questions she has. Being open as possible. Joking with her as we go about it."

Frank wrinkled his nose as he took another slug of beer. “Sounds…great,” his tone was laced with sarcasm.

"Boys, never get it, only want it when the shops open."

“Oh…you did not…” Frank twisted to look at Fliss as she smirked up at him, “that’s a damned lie, Felicity Adler and you know it.”

"Kiss me, Sailor," Fliss winked.

“No, I don’t think I wanna…” Frank teased, a pout on his lips.

"Don't be a crotchety old man, it's unbecoming." She tugged on his tee.

“Stop calling me old!”

"Hey, hey, hey," Fliss sat up and set her wine down on the table. "I'm only teasing. What's got you so bothered?"

“Honestly? I don’t…I don’t know. Just hit me before. They’re both growing up so fahkin’ fast. I mean Alex before, he told me off because I told him to pick some pajamas and he can’t reach the drawer. The way he looked at me, it was like he was a ninety year old man. And then my knees and back were all screwy when I watched him in the bath…and Mary…” he groaned.

"Oh Frankie...." Fliss sighed.

“You know, I’m glad we didn’t decide to have another after him. Not sure my old bones would cope now.”

"Francis...." Fliss scolded. "Stop it. You are not old, my dad, your mum, they're old. We're just getting older. I'm not a spring chicken myself, baby."

At that Frank recalled what Alex had said and let out a chuckle, “you know, Alex said that before. He told me ‘grandmother is old’. Nearly pissed myself laughing.”

Fliss couldn't hide her grin, nor the loud laugh that escaped as she sputtered at first then roared in laughter loudly.

Frank grinned, “he then told me that Nanny isn’t old, but Papa B is a bit. I swear, you know they’re not technically siblings but he’s so damned like Mary was at his age, a fucking answer to everything.”

"It's the Adler in them, they don't have to be blood siblings to figure that out." She now said with a chuckle.

“Oh, I dunno. You’re a smart ass too.”

Fliss' eyes narrowed at Frank. "You're hilarious," she mocked.

Frank popped a shoulder, “truth hurts, sweetheart.”

With her wine back in her hand, Fliss took a big sip then sighed, "all jokes aside, it is true."

“What is?”

"We are getting older, but we're in the best part of our lives, Frank. We're together, we have two beautiful children and our dream home and the yard....despite feeling tired and worn out, I'm the happiest I could be."

Frank smiled and looked at Fliss, her brown eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. “Me too, cowgirl.”

"Now, gimme a kiss." She said softly as she placed her wine back down.

“So damned bossy…” Frank rolled his eyes as he smirked, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

“Hmmm,” Fliss hummed as he pulled away, “I got something that’ll keep you feeling young.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as he watched Fliss’ move so she was straddling him, her knees pressing into the couch either side of his hips, “what’s that?”

Fliss grinned, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders, “see if you can work it out.”

She gave a little toll of her hips, pushing down on his crotch and Frank grunted. “Okay, think I figured it out.”

Fliss rocked a little, forward and back, teasing him a little as she laid her hands over Frank’s as they rested on her hips. A low rumble vibrated in his lips and she grinned.

“Like that, huh?”

“You know I do.”

“Still feel old?”

“A little,” Frank’s hands squeezed at her waist, his fingers feeling at the strip of skin between her cami and pajama shorts as she pushed down against him, this time a little harder.

“What about now?” She leaned over and nipped at the short beard on his chin.

“Better…”

At that Fliss leaned back and pulled off her cami, revealing her soft and supple breasts to him, and Frank groaned. “Now?”

“Getting there”

She took his hands, slid them slowly up the curves of her body, guiding them to her boobs. The pads of his thumbs brushed her nipples and she sighed, her eyes flashing brightly. As his hands started slowly teasing and toying, in a way she new she liked, her right hand slid down his body, slipping into the hand of his sleep pants.

“And now?”

“Like a twenty-one-year-old,” he smirked and Fliss chuckled, leaning down to kiss him. As she did, she pulled his length free from his pants, her hand twisting and pulling gently, teasing him to full hardness which didn’t take her long.

His mouth trailed up her neck, his hands still at her breasts. Fliss moaned a little as his lips nipped at that spot behind her ear, his right hand slipping down, fingers gliding along her thigh. They crept over and round to her core, cupping her heat the rough the thin material, before he moved them to one side. “Fuck, baby. So wet…”

“Yeah…you…” she groaned as his fingers found her clit, “you still got moves for an old man…”

Frank snorted as she kissed him, tilting her body forward as her hand pushed her shorts further to the side. As she sat back, she sighed as she felt his head slipping through her folds.

In a slow, deliberate action she sank back, taking him in fully, watching as his head tilted back. A soft sigh escaped his mouth as his hands cupped her ass.

Frank simply let her take the lead, his eyes on her as she used their thighs to ride him. She went slow. Measured, deliberate rolls of her pelvis has him brushing all the right spots inside her, and there was a delightful friction against her clit.

As she started to rise and fall, the heat in the pool of his and started to burn. He gave a grunt, fingers digging into her flesh, the muscles in his neck straining as he faithful to control himself.

“Thassit, cowgirl.” His words where a grunted whisper, voice low and gravelly and Fliss groaned.

“Frank, please touch me.”

“Whatchu want, Mama?”

She took his hands and placed them back on her boobs again. Frank began rubbing and squeezing, in the way he knew she loved before he tilted upwards, his tongue flicking and lapping at her nipples as his large arm scooped around her back.

“Jesus, Frank….” She panted, “don't stop please don't stop.”

Her hips became to pick up speed, Frank growling against her chest, “yeah, right there, baby.”

“Fuck…Frankie, I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum…don’t stop…”

Frank grunted as he nipped at the underneath of her breast, his hand still toying with her nipple and he felt her tremble in his lap. She groaned, her head tilting back as she panted his name and he felt her walls squeezing him when her orgasm washed over her.

“Lissy…fuck…” Frank was right behind her, his hips driving upwards as he felt his balls squeeze. With a grunts and a deep thrust upwards he came, a few more shallow pumps into her finishing him off.

Sagging back against the couch, Frank sighed, his hands still holding her to him as her face buried into his neck.

“How you feel now?” She muttered, kissing his skin gently.

Frank chuckled, “good…good, baby.” Fliss pulled back to look at him, and he brushed her hair back off her face. “Love you, cowgirl”

“Love you more, sailor.”

“Shall we agree to disagree?” Frank chuckled and Fliss laughed.

“Very mature of you, Frankie. Of course, mature is just another word for old…”

At that his eyebrow flicked up, “fuck you.”

“Again?” She wiggled her hips and Frank grunted a little before he grinned.

“Gimme five minutes…”

127 notes · View notes

coverupps · 3 years ago

Text

I’m not crying I’m not crying I’m not crying 😭😭😭😭

I just knew no matter what that this family would overcome all the trials and tribulations they have!!

I love every single one of them and you know Paul will always have the most special place in my heart ♥️

Even though Connor is being a little devil at the minute you just know no matter what he will always love his parents and his baby brother, his little personality is such like Paul and seeing him learn about junior was just beautiful 🥺

I will forever love this story and everything you do with them! Another incredible chapter!!

Rock N Roll People In A Disco World

Chapter 15: Silent Disco

Part 2: Ride It Out

Summary: Adjusting to being a family of four is proving to be a little harder than you or Disco anticipated

Warnings: Language, adult themes, smut (18+ NSFW)

W/C: 6k

Main Masterlist // Rock N Roll People Masterlist

CH 15 Part 1

It wasn't long until you joined everyone, fresh faced and no longer feeling weighed down for the time being. Jack was with his father, those big arms curled around his little body as he drooled all over his little fist and Paul's shoulder. Dot was chatting away with her son as she started in with getting the last of the veggies ready for the pot roast.

In the lounge you found Big Jim and Connor, playing on the floor with his fire truck and police car; a toy Jim had insisted he keep at theirs.

“Wow, two emergency cars.” You smiled and CJ looked up at you.

“Yup. Hey, Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Cans we go see the fire trucks, at the station? Likes we seed the po-weece cars wiv daddy and Unca Barnes?”

"Uh sure, I think we can do that. We'll see if Daddy can ask Captain Danvers for a tour." You took a seat on the floor next to him. You looked up at Jim, "thank you for taking care of Jack. I didn't want to nap that long but, Nanny seemed to think I needed it."

"It was nothing, a little cereal, a bottle and he was out. We napped on the couch together," he chuckled.

Then you looked down at Connor, "so, now that I'm awake," you smirked, "you wanna tell me about your day with Daddy?"

“We wents on the wheels and the roly-coster ands I had a hot dog… oh and daddy says I can has some fish like Grumpy’s for my birthday.”

"Did he now? Good idea! We can pick some out together, then. And what do you think about going to the aquarium? Maybe see if Grumpy and Nanny or Poppy and Grammy want to stay with Jack."

CJ nodded, “I fink so.”

"Good."

“Just me, yous and Daddy?”

"Yep, just us."

CJ beamed at you. “Cans we do some colors-ing later?”

"Yeah, after dinner and I feed Jack, sure." You saw a flicker of something on CJ’s face at the mention of his brother and you inwardly cursed yourself. "You and Grumpy keep playing, I'm going to help Nanny with dinner." You kissed the top of his head and stood, heading for the kitchen.

Paul turned as you walked in, and smiled softly at you. “You okay?”

You nodded and reached your hands out for Jack, "c'mere baby."

Paul passed Jack over and as he did so, your baby gave you a grin and you spotted a little tooth cutting through his gum at the bottom.

“Oh, is that what’s caused all these tears, little guy, huh?”

He babbled softly and you and you rubbed your fingerpad over his gum.

"Almost there, bubs." You kissed his little neck and blew raspberries into him and he laughed loudly. After a few more, you grinned up at Dot, "Thank you for the nap, was he any trouble?"

“None at all, few little grouchy moments but his teething ring and orajel fixed him right up.”

"Good, how can I help with dinner?" You offered.

“You can’t.” Paul snorted, “you can’t cook.”

"Listen here you, don't be rude. I've been getting us by just fine the last few years." You scowled.

Paul chuckled and dodged the blow Dottie aimed at the back of his head, “now now, Ma, don’t be making me arrest you for assault.”

“Oh, listen here, Mr Hot Shot Detective!” Dottie scoffed. “You really think you’re something now you’ve been promoted.”

“Don’t think it, I knows it.”

With the laughing commotion, Woody gave a bark of annoyance and trotted into the lounge, CJ running past him as he came into the kitchen.

"Mommy... Mommy... Grumpy says I can stay heres tonight!"

“Oh, erm, I was kinda hoping you’d come home and we could watch a movie or do some coloring like you wanted.”

"Can't we colors here before dessert? Nanny said she haves cookies!"

“Connor,” Paul looked at him, “you stayed here last weekend, bud. And me and mommy are both off work tomorrow for a few days so we wanna have some family time.”

"But Grumpy says I could.” He pouted.

“Let’s not argue now, okay?” You cut across them both, “let’s have dinner first and see after.”

"Pwease, Mommy?"

“Connor,” you sighed, “I just said, we can think about it over dinner.”

"Yous mean," he stomped and stormed off back to the lounge.

“Connor James Diskant!” Paul’s voice was loud as he walked after his son, “don’t you dare!”

"Paul, just let him go," you hollered after him while Dotty placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Big Jim came in quickly, "oh y/n, I didn't mean to cause trouble."

“You didn’t, he’s just acting out.” You assured Jim. "It's been a recurring theme the last couple weeks."

Big Jim sighed, his hands going to his hips, "we've been there."

"So I heard," you smirked. "Paul will handle it."

**********

“I’m talking to you, stop right there!” Paul demanded and Connor stopped dead, turned to face him, his arms crossed over his little chest. "You cannot, you will not talk to your mother like that. She deserves every ounce of respect as does any other woman that's in your life." Paul crouched down so he was on Connor's level. "What you said was not nice at all."

Connor blinked, the tears in his eyes as he frustratedly began to cry, “but I wants to stays here!”

"Why?"

“Coz Jack wonts be here!”

"What? This again?"

“I no wike him!”

"You're gonna go in the lounge and sit on the couch for three minutes, young sir," Paul took his hand and pulled Connor gently but firmly in tone with him to the lounge.

“I no wants to!”

“I don’t care what you want.”

"I don't wike you e-ver. Let's me goes."

“Sit down on that couch right now, or Imma take you home before dinner.” Paul knew this was an empty threat, he couldn't really leave without filling his son's belly or feeding his family with his parents but he bluffed as CJ glared up at him.

"No."

"I mean it. One more chance, you can get up there on your own or I can help you, chose a side, Connor."

Connor sniffed as the angry tears poured down his face and he clambered up on the couch. “Go away.” He shot at Paul as he turned away.

"Do not move. Three minutes."

CJ began to sob as Paul stood, his jaw ticking as he headed back into the kitchen.

“Give.Me.Strength.” He groaned, shaking his head.

"Everything okay?" Big Jim asked.

“Not really, little shit.”

"Paul!" You scolded.

“Sorry, he’s just…” Paul sighed, “I’m not having him speak to you like that.”

You sighed, "thank you. I just think we're in a bad phase. What did he say?"

“Same thing he said this morning. He wants to stay here because Jack won’t be,” Disco shrugged, “then he told me he doesn’t like me and to go away.”

You felt your nose pick and your eyes burn. "Let's set the table and eat, huh? By the time his time out is done we'll be ready to sit down, I think." You looked to Dot who nodded.

"I'll get us a couple.of beers," Jim offered and headed for the garage.

The table set, Dottie placed the dishes in the middle and Paul headed back to go and get Connor from the lounge.

"Time’s done, pal. Let's go wash to eat." He instructed, his voice gentle.

Connor sat up, from where he had been led, face pressed into Woody’s fur.

“Otay.” He mumbled and jumped down.

Paul observed the chore and washed his own hands before heading back to the dining room with Connor in front of him. You were settling Jack in the high chair and feeding him some cereal.

Paul helped Connor onto one of the chairs and settled him onto the booster, pushing the chair towards the table so he could reach.

“They okay?”

"Yes." He said quietly, clearly still pouting while no longer screaming and crying.

“Connor, do you want a bit of everything?” Dottie asked.

"Yes, pweese."

Dottie made him a plate up as Disco got yours ready.

“Mmmm, honey, this looks great.” Jim smiled.

"Thank you, I know CJ loves it, that's why I made it."

CJ grinned at his Nanny, as he began to tuck in. “It’s my bestest.”

You softly thanked Paul for your plate and he quickly filled his as you gave Jack another bite of his cereal then took your own first bite of your meal. "Delicious as always, Dot, thank you."

“You’re welcome,” Dot smiled.

The meal was fairly quiet, bar small conversation and squeals from Jack before you helped clear and offered to wash as Dot packed up some left overs for you.

"No, Jim's got it, honey," she nodded. "You guys go handle my boys and we'll see you in a couple days."

You could hear Connor crying again as Paul picked up his toys after getting Jack in his carrier. "Are you sure?"

“Absolutely,” Dot smiled at you. “And be kind to yourself, honey. Don’t think on what CJ said too much. If I had a dollar for every time Paul or Junior said they didn’t like me or I was mean I’d be a millionaire.”

"Oh I know, it just hits at a bad time today. I'll be alright." You sighed. "He's also not napped today, clearly having had too much fun and is exhausted."

“Just like his grandpa.”

You smirked as Big Jim walked back in. "Bye, Jim," you hugged him and hugged Dot. "See you guys in a couple of days."

"You ready, Sugar?" Paul poked his head in while a crying and squirming Connor wriggled in his arms.

"Yep, I'll get Jack," you offered, "C'mon, Woody."

“I don’ts wants to go!” Connor hiccuped.

"Sorry pal, you've lost that chance." Paul said flatly. "Night, Mom; night, Dad."

"Call us when you sort your plans for the week." Big Jim waved.

“Will do.”

Connor cried the whole way home, which caused Jack to cry and by the time the four of you pulled into the drive, your nerves were shot.

Paul took Connor to his room while you brought Jack to the nursery and pulled a change of clothes and a fresh diaper out, before carting him to your room for a little wipe down and change.

Paul popped his head through the door to yours. “I told him to have a very good think about his behaviour today.”

"Okay," you nodded, laying Jack down on the bed, the things you needed around him for easy reach. You popped his pacifier in his mouth and un zipped his clothes. "Can you bring the food in from the truck and feed Woody?"

“On it,” Paul crossed the room to drop a kiss to your cheek.

In time, you were settled in your bed, back resting against the headboard and pillows, Jack suckling strongly at your beast as he was filling his belly for bed time.

Paul called up to say he was going to start sorting through some of the laundry and that if you needed him to yell.

You smiled softly at his gesture. He was keeping himself busy, a trait he'd acquired when flustered or his mind was busy. Mindless chores and tasks kept his brain noise down and helped him to sort through the muddle. You sighed and looked down at your baby boy while your heart ached for the boy in his room.

When Jack had his fill, his eyes closed as your nipple fell from his lax lips, out for the night. Unless his teeth hurt. You laid him in his crib in the nursery and headed for Connor's room.

Cracking open his door, you found your little boy hugging his new bear and his blanket. "C'mere, baby."

Connor sniffed and shuffled off his bed, padding towards you.

You picked him up and sat down on his bed, "You ready to take a deep breath and talk to Mommy?" He nodded. "It was a busy day, huh, baby? Big day, no nap, big emotions."

“I sowee.” He sobbed into your neck.

"Oh, Ceej, I know." You choked up, rubbing his back. "It was a mistake."

“I sads, Mommy.”

"Tell me why, Bubba?"

“Coz, Jack he cries all the times, and he cants pway wifs me and you has to holds him!” CJ hiccuped as he cried, “Daddy says lots you otay soogar.”

"Oh my sweet baby," you cried.

“And Daddy is mads too coz I was means and ye-owd at yous.”

"You made a mistake, Ceej, that happens," you sniffed and hugged him close. Your hand cupped his head against your neck. "I love you, my baby, I do and so does daddy. You have no idea how much."

“I loves you, Mommy.” He cried, his little hands grabbing fist fulls of your top.

You hugged him close and rocked him. You didn't know what to say, your instincts just telling you he needed his mama. Eventually, his sobbing died down and you felt him pull back a little. His little face was streaked with tears, his nose snotty. You wiped at it all with your thumbs, the joys of being a mom, and gently kissed his head.

“You okay?” He nodded. "Good. Now, you want to go kiss Jack goodnight on your way to brush your teeth? Then you can go down to see Daddy and say goodnight before bed."

"Does Daddy hates me coz I was bad?”

You opened your mouth to assure him that was, most certainly, not the case, but you stopped. You’d let Paul handle that, as it would mean a lot more if CJ heard it directly from his daddy.

“I tell you what, why don’t you ask him for yourself when you go down?”

He sniffed, "okay."

"Get your jammies and let's go see your brother, okay?"

CJ nodded and headed to his drawers. You helped him open them and he selected a pair with the Captain America shield on the front, his latest obsession. Once he was changed, you supervised him cleaning his teeth and then walked with him into the nursery where Jack was sleeping.

You picked him up and allowed him to tilt inside where he kissed his forehead. "I lobes you Jack Jack. I sowwy I was means."

“He can’t say it yet, Ceej, but he loves you too. You’re such a good big brother,” you swung CJ back up again and kissed his cheek, “now, go find daddy.”

"Okay."

“Hold the railing,” you instructed gently as he made his way downstairs.

Connor made his way down and found his daddy in the lounge. Paul was reading, the television off.

"Daddy?"

Paul looked up, and gave CJ a gentle smile as he marked his page and tossed the book down. “Yeah, bud?”

"I'm sowwy I was bad, does yous hate me?"

Paul felt his heart break and he sighed, “Oh Ceej, come here, Bubs.”

CJ headed towards him and Paul picked him up, settling him on his lap.

“I could never hate you. I was upset and angry because you weren't being good to mama and you were saying some things about Jack that made me sad, but I could never ever hate you Connor. I love you, you’re my boy.”

Again, his tired little eyes leaked tears as his chubby hands wiped them away.

“Hey,” Paul cupped his face and swiped the tears with his large thumbs, “it was just a bad day. And it’s okay for you to feel mad and angry but it’s not okay for you to say the things you did. If you get mad or upset, you need to tell me or mommy. Okay?”

Connor sniffled. "Okay, Daddy, I pwomise. I says sowwy to Mommy and Jack Jack a-ready."

“Good boy,” Paul kissed his head, “I’m proud of you for doing that.” Then he sighed, "You have no idea how much we love you. How special you are."

A little hiccup escaped his chest, "Speshul?"

"Mmhmm," Paul nodded with a hum.

"Like Woody's favourite toy speshul? The one that I can’t touch cuase he might get mad?"

"More." Paul chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

"Wow," Connor sat wide eyed and he paused for a moment. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, buddy.”

"Can you read my bedtime story? The one wif the pirates?"

Paul smiled, "I got a better idea, let's say goodnight to Mommy and I'll tell you a story about your Uncle Junior."

At that, CJ frowned, “who’s dat?”

"He was my big brother," Paul stood, lifting Connor to his hip like he weighed nothing. "But, let's go say goodnight and when you're all tucked in, I'll start the story."

“You has a big brodder?” CJ pressed as Paul climbed the stairs with him in his arms.

"I did."

“Whys I no seed him?”

"Well, uh, he's not here anymore. He died. A long time ago."

“Oh,” CJ paused for a moment as they reached the top, “how does he die?”

Paul thought for a moment, "Uh, he just was really sick, for a long time." He set CJ down as they came into your room, thankful for you being the quick distraction he needed so he didn't need to explain more. It would be a story for another time.

You looked over from where you were sat on the bed, the tv. “Hi.” You smiled as CJ climbed up onto the bed.

“I goes bed now, daddy’s gone tell me a story about his brodder, Uncle Joo-knee-Orr.”

"Is he now?" You smiled over at Paul. "I bet it's a good one." You opened your arms for a hug, "Night hug bug, I love you, so much."

“Loves you, Mommy.”

"Come on, Ceej, let's get tucked in." Paul still dressed but barefoot, smiled softly from you in the door way.

“Daddy!” CJ suddenly exclaimed as he climbed down, “I needs Woody.”

"He'll come, he knows the routine, c'mon."

CJ headed out of the room and Paul looked at you, “I’ll settle him then lock up and come join you, Sugar. You need anything?”

"Just you." You smirked softly

“Well, that goes without saying.” He grinned, flashing you a wink. “Get naked,” he tossed over his shoulder as he headed over the landing.

In Connor's room, the little boy pulled the covers back and climbed into his bed, wiggling into the mattress.

"Okay, Daddy Stud, I is ready." He tucked his little hands behind his head and smiled.

Paul laughed at his mannerisms, but before he could say anything, Woody trotted into the room and hopped up onto the bed. He gave CJ’s face a muzzle with his nose, bushy tail wagging before he flopped down by his feet.

"Now Woody he ready too!"

“Yup,” Paul settled on the bed, back leaning against the headboard as CJ settled into him, “all present and correct, Junior Officer Diskant.”

"Story, Daddy!"

“Okay, okay. So, Uncle Junior, his real name was James.”

“Dats my name! Connor James Diskant!”

"That's right, that's where it comes from!You were named after him and Grumpy, Connor is Poppy Nick's middle name. Anyway, he was five years older than me," Paul held up his hand, wiggling his fingers.

“So he was your big brodder, like me is to Jack Jack?”

"Yep, just like. And you know what, he didn't always like me either.”

“He didn’t?”

"Nope. I used to bug him like crazy."

“What’s did you do?”

"Cry a lot, took his toys, got him in trouble, but you know what, through all that, he was still my best friend."

“He was? So you played wivs him?”

"Oh yeah, when I was old enough, all the time. We shared trucks and toys, bikes.... We did it all."

“Does you makes forts?”

"He taught me how!"

“So I can…” CJ’s sentence was interrupted by a yawn, “I cans teach Jack?”

“I’m counting on it,” Paul kissed his head, “and you can help me teach him how to walk and swim.”

"And hows to throw Woody's balls?"

“That too.”

Connor let out a big yawn once the black German Shepherd did the same, unphased by the mention of balls.

“And then, when you’re both older, you can talk about girls.”

“Yuk!” CJ pulled a face, “dey has cootsies.”

"You best remember that for now," Paul laughed. "Man, I loved Junior so much pal, I wish he was here for you to meet him. You'd have loved him and he would have spoiled you rotten! Worse than Grumpy does! And Poppy!"

“Did he looks like you?”

"Sorta. He was big like Grumpy, lighter hair, same eyes."

“Nanny says you like Grumpy.”

"Yeah, I guess I am. Jimmy was just bigger."

“I finks yous big.” CJ's voice was getting quieter, his words slipping a little, a sure sign he was well on his way to falling asleep. But Diskant didn’t want to leave him until he was flat out, not tonight.

“I'm bigger than you, but one day you’ll be just as tall.”

"Can I sees him?" He wondered quietly.

“Yup, I’ll show you some photos tomorrow.”

"Okay. You nuggles wif me?"

“Yup. Gonna stay right here until you fall asleep, my little disco ball.”

"Night, Daddy, I lobe you."

“Night, pal. Love you too.”

Paul laid on his side next to Connor on his twin bed. He propped himself up on his elbow using his free hand to lay it across his son's chest. He gently rubbed CJ’s chest in slow circles, a trick he had learnt when he was a baby, one that never failed. And sure enough, two minutes or so later he heard Connor’s soft little snores indicating that the little boy had fallen asleep. Slowly he slipped from the bed and kneeled over his son. "Night, my miracle, I love you."

He kissed CJ’s head, then gestured for Woody to follow and the obedient dog did. They headed downstairs, Woody doing his usual lap or two round the garden whilst Paul checked the rest of the doors and armed the security system. Then he let Woody back in and climbed back up the stairs, his right arm crossing his chest, left hand rubbing slightly at his shoulder.

“Where you sleeping tonight?” He looked down at the ever faithful German shepherd.

With a loll the dog turned to the right and headed right back into Connor's room.

"Thought so," he chuckled. As customary, Woody would start in there and guard the first Disco Ball then he'd end up in the hall listening to Jack for a bit before sleeping on the landing to listen for the entire house. It never failed, the good boy, now much older than when you'd first adopted him, was the best guard dog the family could get.

Paul gently fluffed up the large dog bed which nestled into the corner of the landing for him, before he headed into your room.

As requested, you were naked, and lying under your fresh sheets having just changed them that morning. Your hair was up off your face and you still watched television.

With a smirk, Paul whipped his shirt over his head and shed his jeans and boxers in a matter of seconds. You looked at him, eyes raking up his body, as he crawled under the sheets to join you. He took the remote from you, clicked the tv off and tossed it down on the night stand.

"Well hello," you giggled as he was quickly caging you in.

“Hey, beautiful.” His lips softly met yours, “you seen my wife anywhere?”

"Mmmmm, nope." You popped the 'p'.

“Good, because between me and you, she can be real territorial.” And

"So can I," you smirked and nipped at his chin.

Then Paul shifted his weight more to his right, rolling his left shoulder a little as he bent to kiss you again. You took the kiss, your hand gently sliding up to that ever present scar. “Your shoulder hurting?”

"Yeah, been giving me some trouble today," he admitted.

“Want me to give it a rub?”

"Sure, Sugar." He rolled to his back and looked at you with dark eyes, "but only if you let me fill you up while you do it."

You laughed as you moved, straddling him, “what’s the rush, Stud? It’s only just gone eight.”

"I just wanna feel you 'round me is all. I wanted you naked, now I want you, Sugar."

“What is it you say to Ceej about not always getting what you want, huh?”

"Fine, what is it you want, Y/N? Tell me...."

You leaned down, your lips brushing his, “same as you, I just like watchin’ you squirm every now and then.”

"Get on up here then, show me."

“I’m already up here,” you grinned, your pelvis brushing his as you kissed him again.

“No, I meant up here,” he jerked his head.

"Oh, Detective Diskant, it's one of those nights?"

“Gotta warm you up, Sugar.”

With a bite to your lip, you crawled forward on your knees and gripped the headboard. "Well...." His hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs as he peeked up at you, your knees settling by his ears, “the last time I tried to stick it in dry, you punched me.”

"Consequences of a second baby," you chuckled.

“Or consequences of your husband not doing his job properly.”

"Never that," you sighed. "You're quite good at it all, just not all right yet. Meds don't help either, it's a side effect."

“Quite? What do you mean, quite?” He scoffed, “I happen to be an exceptional lay.”

"Yes, yes you are," you dropped a hand and ran your nails over his slightly longer locks before scratching behind his ear and down his check, your thumb running over his stubble before your fingers danced over his scar.

Paul’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum escaping him before his fingers curled round your hips and pulled you forward, causing you to yelp a little.

"Whatcha want, Stud?"

“You to sit on my face.”

You dropped your hips just a little, enough for him to have his way, your hands again at the headboard.

“Good girl, Sugar.” He crooned, before his mouth set to you.

You gasped as he found every valley in your folds, his hot tongue laving and the tip of it poking into your hole, shifting between kitten licks to your clit and his nose running along it. His lips covered your seam and puckered around your sensitive bud. It didn't take long for you to start rocking your hips over his rough stubble, adding an extra sensation. All the while Paul's hands remained curled around your thighs. He moved his head, side to side, the sensations of him effectively rubbing his face into your most intimate parts had you whispering his name.

"Yeah baby," he spoke against your skin, "you gonna cum for me already, I can feel it."

He was right. In an embarrassingly, but not totally unexpected, short amount of time, he had you gripping the headboard as your body trembled with your orgasm.

"Ohhhhh, Sugar," he chuckled sinfully, "thassmygirl."

“Fuck, Stud…” you took a deep breath, “Jesus…”

"Warmed up, honey?" He kissed at your thighs, his tongue still dragging up your skin.

“Yeah…” you rose to your knees and shuffled back a little, leaning down to kiss him. You could taste yourself on him, smell yourself on his skin but you didn’t care.

“Shit, baby I need you,” he groaned into the loss, his large hands cupping your face.

You reached between your bodies and took him in your hands, guiding him and lining his head up with your slit. Paul gave a little thrust as you slipped your knees a little wider apart to drop down over him, his cock slipping right in.

He groaned, head falling back as he looked up at you, hands sliding up your ribs. “Fuck, look at you. So beautiful, Mama.”

You dropped your head a little, unable to hide the smirk. You didn't always feel that beautiful but he'd make it so you'd feel it every time he said it.

“Look at me, Sugar.” He tipped his pelvis up, grinding into you.

You dropped your chin so your eyes could meet his as your hands fell to his tattooed chest, his latest ink, Jack's name freshly healed under your fingers. "Fuck, that's good," you whimpered as his angle hit you deep.

“I love you, baby.” He rutted into your again, hands gripping your hips and keeping you locked onto him. “So, so much.”

"I love you, Disco," you whispered back, bending at your neck to kiss him with a slow fervor. "I'm gonna love you forever, Stud."

“Good, coz there’ll never be anyone else for me.” His hand slid into your hair, keeping your face pressed to his.

"Never, baby, never... Ugh... Ever." Your thighs were quaking against his hips.

“Gonna give me another one?” His eyes flashed, a smirk curling over his lips as his nose bumped yours.

"Yeah... Yes, oh God yes," you moaned.

“Cum for me, Sugar, come on…”

A silent scream fell from your lips as they closed into a whispered 'oh' as his encouragement made your second release hit you harder than the first. Already fucked out, you collapsed over him, your breasts brushing over his chest as he kept his hips up.

“Oh, baby.” He chuckled a little, his hands sliding up your back. “You okay?”

Wordlessly, you nodded and burried your face into his left shoulder, your tongue and lips mouthing over his spot, his scar.

His own mouth kissed your forehead, before he sat up, and rolled you onto your back. His hands took yours, pinning them either side of your head.

Your eyes kept on his, "take what you need."

“Just need you,” he thrust into you, “always you.”

"Yeah," your back dragged along the sheets as he stuffed you, pulled out and thrusted in again. "Oh, shit, that's so good, Paul."

His hips languidly rolled into yours, nothing rushed or hurried about his actions. Your hands gently dragged down his back, nails softly scraping at his skin causing him to groan, his head dropping to yours.

"Fuck, Sugar," he whimpered himself, "my girl. My baby mama." He was close, you could feel him throbbing against your walls, "made for me... Every way..."

“Only you,” your lips kissed the underneath of his jaw, teeth gently nipping at his whiskers, “my Disco.”

"Oh, fuck, honey...." Paul's hips sped up just a little, a long dirty grind added at the end. "I'm so close, Sugar."

You hiked your legs up, ankles locking at the bottom of his back, heels digging into his ass. You urged him to take what he wanted, your mouth resting by his ear. You could hear his grunts and soft little whimpers as his hips started to go sloppy. “Let go, Stud.”

His hands curled into your hair and his lips covered yours as he came, his entire body rumbling over you and inside you, his spend filling you and giving you a delightful warmth you never got tired of.

“Oh, daddy stud.” You kissed him softly, a smile on your face as he let out a chuckle.

"Always so good, Sugar," his nose bumped yours then his forehead gently pressed against your own. "I love you, Mrs Disco."

“I love you too, now…” you kissed him softly, before your hand gently tapped his arm. “Lay on your front and I can give your shoulder a massage.”

"You're gonna have to gimme a second," he snorted.

“How bad is it?” You asked, your hands now dancing up his biceps.

"Sore," he kissed you and pulled back, his body leaving yours. He slipped from the bed and extended his hand to yours. "C'mon, the boys are out cold, let's take a bath."

“Okay,” you smiled softly as you allowed him pull you up.

After your long bath, and a check on a still sleeping Jack, Disco was led flat out on your bed, his lower half in his sleep pants and his face burried I to his pillow. "I see you've already assumed the position."

He chuckled, “not our first dance, Sugar.”

"And it won't ever be our last." You straddled his hips and kissed between his shoulder blades. “So, how did you put it out this time?” You asked, your fingers sliding over his skin, gently pressing at the sore point. It was always the same; the junction of his neck would get tight and tense thanks to the scar tissue deep inside the muscle.

"Winning today's bear," he mumbled with a grunt into the pillow.

“Oh, Disco.” You sighed, keeping your movements light for the time being to allow him to get used to it. “Well, he’s happy with that bear, he was hugging it before.”

"Rough day for him, breaks my heart and kills me to get on him like I did."

“I know but-sorry,” you hastily apologised as Paul hissed when you hit a particularly knotty part, “he did push it too far. I know we’ve been trying to understand and accommodate but…” you sighed, “he apologised and we talked. I think we’ll be okay.”

"We will." He groaned.

“How did it go telling him about Junior?”

"Oh honey, that was... That was special." Paul turned his head so he could talk better. "He listened, he asked questions, he was as understanding and receptive as he could be for his age."

“He’s a smart little guy,” you smiled, your fingers now moving in circles. “I’m glad you had that moment, Stud.”

"One of many, and then we'll have them with Jack." He then hummed as his shoulder relaxed a little. "Ugh."

“I felt that,” you chuckled.

“You got magic hands, Sugar.”

"Your mouth is magic," you leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“You know it baby,” he grinned

You were just about to dig in a little deeper when Jack's little whimpers were heard over the monitor. You waited a moment to see if he'd go back out but instead he wailed. "He's not hungry, it's his mouth."

“I’ll go,” Paul offered.

"I got it, babe," you hopped off his lower back. "It might be a while."

“Bring him in here,” Paul flipped over and shuffled up. “He can snuggle with us.”

"Okay." You sighed and left the master and to the room next to yours, Jack's room.

In seconds, he was in your arms as you hushed him and soothed him. You changed him and brought him in with you only to find an extra little boy already in your bed led into his daddy's side.

"I guess it's a slumber party, huh?" You giggled.

Disco looked at you, and simply shrugged.

Connor sat up a little in your bed, "does you hafta feeds him?"

"No baby, his teeth just hurt."

“Oh,” he paused and then made to speak but stopped.

“What’s up?” Paul looked at him, “you can say it, whatever it is, we won’t be angry.”

"Can I holds him?”

You couldn't help the short gasp that came from your chest. It marked you speechless, and so you nodded.

“Assume the position, Junior Officer Diskant.” Paul grinned as he sat up and fluffed the pillows, placing one over CJ’s lap so he could rest his arms on them with Jack supported.

You caught Paul’s eye, and he beamed at you. This was the first time CJ had asked to hold his baby brother in weeks

"Remember, he's older and heavier now, more squiggly." Paul added, as he still smiled at you, the tears in your eyes visible.

“Yups, I got it.” CJ nodded as you placed Jack down in his arms. "Shhhh, Jack-Jack, it's okay. Don't c-whys."

At the sound of his brother’s voice, the wailing Jack was making stopped and he looked up at CJ, his blue eyes wide. And then a smile spread across his pudgy cheeks.

Connor looked at you and grinned, "he's no crying!"

No, Jack wasn't, but you sure were.

“You got the magic touch, buddy.” Paul smiled at him.

Connor looked down at Jack and whispered to him while Paul looked to you, reached behind your sons and gently grabbing your forearm for a squeeze. He sent a wink your way and just like that, all was as it should be in the Diskant household.

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