#cheddar late than dead

[jujutsukgojo]

The Baby Project chapter 2

izuku midoriya x reader

Chapter one

Summary: When Kaibara gets increasingly worse, a hero comes in the nick of time.

tw: dead beats, assault, mention of Mineta's crimes,

You wipe the booths for the next customers. Heading back behind the counter, you ask your tables if anyone needs anything. It’s the same old thing you’ve come to love. Children are coloring in their coloring pages and are waiting for their juice boxes while their parents order grilled cheese. The kids write ‘secret’ messages to you about them getting sweets. An indecisive couple who finally settle on the most basic things then call you back to change it.

  The restaurant has been up for ages and has regulars that have been the nicest people to you. So many debates on whose cooking is better. You, Yona, who’s your boss, or Ken’s, the cook. All for the sake of laughs and gentle teasing. They have the faces that tell a story you want to hear and senses of humor that vary more than snowflakes. 

   Plucking the fresh, hot pot of coffee from the machine, you head over to your playful regulars. A group of older men who have taken a liking to you and have acted like grandpas. They are a highly playful bunch who make you smile every day.  “Here we are boys.” 

  “Ah, (Y/n), looking rather dashing today.” Ren puts his head on his hands. He's a man with laugh lines and salt and pepper hair. Ren has been a regular at the restaurant for years who always orders apple pie with cheddar cheese on the side with whip cream, day or night, breakfast, lunch, or dinner whenever he’s around.

“In the same old uniform that you saw me in yesterday. Seriously?”

  “Can’t I compliment you?”

“Yeah, when it doesn’t come with asking if you can get the meal for free.” 

He sighs. “Dammit.”

  Yona calls you to her. Her dyed red hair is easy to spot. She sucks on her lips and eyes you nervously. You quickly rush to her, not liking the look on her aging face. “Yeah?” 

She extends her hands to you. “Someone left this for you. It was given to Ken when he went out to take out the trash.” 

  You gasp and drop the pot of coffee, its glass and hot liquid spreading on the floor. Some of the liquid touches your shoes and the heat makes contact with your feet. Even then you barely register it. The noise gathers the attention of the patrons and Ken, who comes out of the kitchen. Your eyes start to mist when you see Noa without a blanket or his diaper bag. His feet are cold and he’s shivering.

________________________

You sniffle as you pat him. It’s after hours and the only ones in here are those who work late and are finishing their meals. When you saw Noa, you immediately freaked out. The customers were quick to see if you were alright, but Yona made you go somewhere else to process everything. 

Throughout the entire restaurant, Noa’s cries were heard. You have been in the kitchen with Ken and even in Yona’s office to get the noise away from the customers. Nothing worked until he was warmed up.

“Just breathe, kid. Ken knows of your assignment. He was gentle like it was real.” You kiss Noa’s soft head, his chubby newborn face is now free of stress and his mouth no longer lets out a shrill wail.

With a gruff voice Ken calls out from the kitchen. “I thought it was real. Look at it.” 

  “I can’t believe this. I just wanted him to help. Classes are over. He isn’t doing anything. How could he be this way?” Noa coos and tries to breastfeed and starts to give out whimpers every time he fails. Yona gives you the bottle that was left with Ken. “The packaging threw me off but I figured it out.”

   You go to feed Noa. He’s been terrible at taking it since the project started. Finally after some coaxing, he latches on. “He’s doing it!” He’s only been fed like, 5 or 6 times by you. You just hope Kaibara managed to get something in. 

  “Thank you.” You sniffle. “Other than this, why are you crying? Noa’s fine.” She tickles his feet. He jolts his leg from the sensation, not once removing the nipple from his mouth as he hungrily sucks on the milk.

“U.A. doesn’t allow students to work unless they’re in the hero course. I get a stipend but that’s less than others since I’m on a scholarship. It’s weird but true. So, I took this job to help me out. I had to ask him to help me get things so I wouldn’t borrow from my friends.”

  Yona wipes your nose. She’s always been motherly to you; sometimes overwhelmingly so. “Now he knows. He’s the one who had to pay for some of his things and was mad about it,” You look up at the older woman who is listening intently. “Yona, what if he doesn’t understand my situation?”

  You didn’t come from diamonds and gold. You don’t have the funds to go to this fancy school or have parental help. Plus, U.A. just now started the stipend thing and you have a cut. This project is terribly expensive, and the stipend can’t cover it at all. It barely takes care of you.

You make sure to place him directly on your chest to be as comforting as possible. The position mimics breastfeeding which is a little awkward for you but worth it since he calms down after. 

  “The hero course gets paid from their internships and stuff. He has more than me, so I didn’t think he’d mind. Plus, we’re partners in this.” You remove the bottle from the little baby’s mouth.

 “It wasn’t crazy stuff either. Just diapers from Mei Hatsume-”

“The inventor, right?”

“Yeah, her. It was a pacifier and clothes, stuff like that. The only reason he went to the store with me is because Tetsutetsu embarrassed him or something.”

“Real Steel?” You nod. “Kaibara gave me like, twenty bucks maybe? I’m happy he did something but it didn’t really help. I took most of the bill and I still couldn’t get all the things Noa needs. Toss me a towel, please.”

You place it on your shoulder and hope for the best.  Noa burps and throws up a little. This is the first time Noa has burped perfectly with you. Usually, you have the hardest time doing it. As you try to hold him better, his weight gets heavier. 

Your eyebrows raise.  “Already?” 

“What’s happening, baby?” You quickly cradle him for them to see. “He’s growing! He was a newborn now look!”

  You unbutton his onesie so he can have room to grow. His belly tells his age. “Four months?”

What did you or Kaibara do to get to four months already? Noa’s face no longer looks like an old man but an actual baby where his features begin to be more identifiable.

“Good job, pepper!” Ken comes out of the kitchen and puts out his cigarette, not wanting it to be around Noa and hinder your progress. You breathily laugh, smiling down at Noa. He looks more aware now and he still favors you in the looks department.

   “He needs some more-”

“Say no more. I still have my girl’s baby clothes. A few onesies, shirts and pants, maybe? I’ll check but I know I have some. Maybe my boy’s, too.” Ken rubs your head with his meaty hand. As strange as he is, a grumpy middle aged guy who needs a haircut and to stop hitting the gym so much, he’s sweet. Rough around the edges but the sweetest man you’ve ever had the pleasure knowing. 

Yona kisses Noa’s chubby feet. He wiggles his toes. “And I still have my kid’s bassinet. It’s old school but sturdy.”

You thank them both then pause.

  “What happens at four months?” You look to the adults who have kids of their own. “Hell if I know. I was in jail.”

“Ken, not now.” 

“He should be-” Then Noa screams. You look him over, not finding anything. You then undo his diaper to see if he's wet and see a horrible rash. “What?!” 

On him was a regular pamper. Kaibara put a regular U.A. diaper on him and didn’t even do it right. “No, no! Crap! Did he give you the diaper bag?”

  “Just the baby and a bottle, pepper. And the bottle was empty. I don't know why he was carrying it like that. I was locked up and I know bett-”

"Ken, please. No prison stories."

You take it off of him before it gets worse. You don’t know why he decided to do this. You told him not to, right? It wasn’t like you chose it. Noa just happened to have needed them. Just like Ema’s baby can’t be around anything that’s not cotton or the baby will get a rash. Or Benio’s daughter throwing up the school’s formula and having to go to get a special formula from them that cost more. 

   The babies are extremely diverse, just like real ones.

“Alright, alright.” Yona takes Noa to the kitchen and bounces him as she goes. Ken rubs your back again. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Maybe.

“No. I have to.” You rub your forehead. “I don’t know what to do though. He hates me for some reason. It all started when I said no to the name Sen.”

  You groan. “And he knows that I work. What if he uses it as black mail? I won’t be able to afford anything!”

“This is based on real life, right?” You nod. “If he does anything, get him for child support. He’s taking your income thus away from the child. Your stipend can’t cover you both and he’s an absent parent. Let the school handle him.”

You take in his words. The stipend can barely help you. No way would it be able to handle a growing baby. 

“That’s too serious. This isn’t that bad, right?” Ken sighs and sits next to you. “Yeah, it’s an assignment. Just a project that’ll end sometime soon. But he isn’t helping. Rather than watch him for a couple of hours, he hands him over in a back alley to a strange man,” He gestures to himself.

“Well not strange-” He corrects.

“Eh…”

“Little one, I swear to God,” You laugh and wipe your eyes. Talking to these two have helped dry up some of your tears. “Listen, if he doesn’t start properly helping you, if he snitches and it affects Noa, then yeah. It's not permanent or anything. Just until the project ends and who knows? Maybe U.A. will let you work because without it, it'll take away from Noa."

“I don’t think it’s a thing here, though.”

“Not in this country, really. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing at that fancy school of yours. Force them. It's either that, or they let you work since they're being cheap towards you.”

You catch a ride from Yona as Ken closes up. You have to hurry back before curfew. Before she speeds to your school, she takes a detour to her modest home. With so little time left, you can only grab a few things with Yona promising you more tomorrow. You want to kiss her when you see all of the items she’s giving you. They’re old but completely welcomed. 

Back in the car with Noa in your arms grabbing your finger, Yona breaks the silence.

 “Take Ken’s advice. If the butthead holds this against you when you talk to him, you have to do something. This isn’t just affecting you. His pettiness is going to hurt Noa, too.” 

“You talk like he’s real.” You whisper as you pass the streetlights that just came on. It means curfew is about to start. Luckily, you were quick to change into your U.A. uniform. Hopefully, you walking in like normal will work. 

  “Noa would fool even All Might. All that thing is missing is a legitimate soul, and that’s it. His heart beats, honeycomb.” She watches how you interact with him. Even if you don’t realize it, you are treating him as if he’s real. 

"Yona...that's too serious. Like, that's grown up stuff. I don't think this situation calls for it."

"It's something to consider."

You scratch your cheek. "I don't know that's awfully...dramatic? He's just a grade." Yona scoffs and rolls her eyes. "It's not just about financial provision. It's about co-parenting which he isn't doing and what U.A. is trying to teach him to do," She sighs and looks at you then back at the road. "Look, if you won't do that, then go to your teachers. It's not snitching when it affects your grade like this."

"He'll tell!"

Yona's silent. She hears how desperate and sad you sound. "Even if he does, it's not like you're doing the worst thing in the world. Talk to him. Tell him if he doesn't shape up, then you'll go to the teachers. If they give you flack, give it right back."

  Yona pulls up to the dorms. “Alrighty, we’re here.” Your hands start to tremble. You’re not scared of Kaibara. It is the possibilities that get you. “Breathe honey, he’s just being an ass. Besides, he may not do anything. He could be perfectly reasonable if he asks.”

  “My scholarship could end, Yona.” The school doesn’t allow anyone to work except for the hero courses. The scholarship would end. Would you lose them too?

“Argue it. It’s what you do best. You may not like heroes or can fight like them, but in a war of words and law you’d beat all of them with your mouth taped shut. Defend yourself in your territory.”

  You take a deep breath. “I will.”

She grabs your arm. "He gave a child to some random man in an alley. What if Noa was real?" 

______________________

Yona loads the bags into your arms and places Noa in the wheeled bassinet. It is old, white laced and not the cleanest. The wheels are large and the fabric that drapes the bottom half is surprisingly soft.  Although it is not disinfected right now it’ll have to do until you can get inside and clean everything. You give Yona a kiss on the cheek, thanking her for everything. 

“You act like helping you is a chore. It’s okay, the sweetest honeycomb.” For some reason, that hits you in the gut. 

When Yona leaves, you repeatedly kick the door so someone can open it. A kid from the other General Studies class opens the door. They must be visiting because the other class lives on the other side of the building. 

  You enter your room and head to the bathroom for a bath. After today, it is definitely needed. That and Yona’s gifts need to be scrubbed too. They’ve been boxed away and preserved in an attic.

  You give Noa his sponge bath first. It was easy enough. He only screamed bloody murder the entire time other than that it was cake. You dry him off and set him on pillows so he could be propped up while you bathe. The curtain is open so you can keep your eye on him. 

  “I’m coming, sweetheart! Just one minute, please- shit!” Shampoo got directly into your eye. Noa cries louder, showing all of his gums and his little fists are clenched to his chest. You hurriedly try to rinse your eyes and grab Noa. 

  You suck at this. So, so, much. 

   You begin to get cold but you push that all aside in order to get him to be quiet. His wailing is loud in your ears. Finally, you decide to wash with him even though he’s already bathed. His head lays on your chest, resulting in the tears to be sniffles. 

“You just wanted some lovin’, huh? That’s okay, bub.” It’s not at all. Who is to say he won’t understand you and start all over again?

After the much needed shower, Ema comes in to see you in your robe and drying Noa off. “Do you hav-what’s that?” She lifts his leg, the red and rough rash is visible even on his outer upper thigh.

“Before you blame me, it was Kaibara. He put one on him.” You gently massage his skin and make a mental note to go to Hatsume about it. You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know why he put the regular ones on him.”

 “Did you tell him?” 

“Yeah, I did. Or I think so? I don’t know. I’m exhausted.” 

She puts her hand on her hip. “If Eijirou was ever that lazy, I’d smack him.”

   “I think it weirds him out. All of it, you know?” She sits on your bed next to Noa. “That’s stupid. He deals with blood and gore everyday yet he can’t handle changing a baby in the right diapers? Ridiculous and lazy.”

Feeling the heat of anger rise up, you tell her, “Plus, he kept the diaper bag. So I’ll have to use a backpack.”

“He kept it? Did he at least give you some of the things in there?”

“Nope.” You’re not going to tell her the full thing lest your secret be found. She scoffs and throws her hands in the air. It’s nice to vent. “Stupid, lazy, and petty.”

  “Amen.” Speaking of prayers. “Did they handle that grape thing yet? How’s Riko anyway? I haven’t seen her.”

   Ema licks her lips. “Not good. The messages that Benio read were just the tip of the iceberg apparently. He sent dick pics, way more than innuendos, borderline if not outright, threats. It’s just a mess. I only saw a few of them but I totally see why she felt threatened.”

 You pause, taking in the information of what your friend went through. “You serious? A future hero?”

She hums and nods. “Yep. Word is that he’ll be expelled since everything has just accumulated to this. It’s like this is the final straw type of thing.”

“Should’ve gotten rid of him sooner.” You nibble on Noa's chubby feet, making him giggle. It's way better than him wailing.

“Definitely. Anyway, Snipe said there weren’t any more people so she could take a test or raise the baby herself. She chose to quit and take a test. Said the project was ruined for her.”

  “If that is the best decision for her health, I say let it be.” How bad was it? Benio was pissed when he read them and that didn’t cover much. So, what exactly did the grape thing do? How bad were these threats? Your heart aches for Riko and what she’s going through. It isn’t fair. 

“It’s a good thing you and Benio pushed it. This needed to be brought out. If he becomes a pro hero, the people he saves will be in jeopardy.” She messes with the edge of her nighttime shorts. 

  “Absolutely. He’s a bona fide predator. Yes, he fought in the wars. Yes, he helped save the world,” You count on your fingers. “That doesn’t give an excuse for assault or harassment.” 

  She fiddles with your quilt blanket. “I feel bad, peaches.”

“Why?” Noa flexes his fingers in awe. You wonder if his four month phase is already ending and he’s growing again. The growing process seems to be random. “Because I should’ve realized sooner. She was being paired with him. It was bound to happen. He’s the biggest pervert in the school. I should’ve gone with you guys and supported her.”

“You were raising your kid at a different table. No one blames you. We just happened to be there. This isn’t on us, it’s on that thing. ”

"I know. But her face when I saw her is gonna stick with me. I want to do something but what?" She licks her lips again and shakes her head. The subject changes as she focuses on his features. “He looks like you. Even his hair, see?” You chuckle and nod in agreement. 

“Yeah. I think that bothers him too.”

“So fucking lame.” Amen, again. “Wait, he’s bigger…he grew! Oh, I’m so proud of you!” She kisses your head. You raise your brow at her affection. “It says he’s four months but I think he’s growing again.” 

You massage his face. “Maybe Mei is speeding up the growth.”

  Her eyes roam around your room and stop at your little basket of his things. 

“Oh Lord. What’d you need?” She hums. “I wanted to see if you had any diapers to spare? Eijrou heard about it and wants to try.”

“Eijrou… he lets you call him by his first name?” She nods. “Yeah, we share a baby so there’s no reason to call each other formally. Besides, we get along really well.” It's not Ema's fault at all. Not the smallest bit. But it stings when it shouldn't. It is the partnership they have and you can't get it despite your efforts. You practically see the gold medal on her neck right now that shows she isn't failing. Could a start of a positive partnership be as simple as using his first name? The next time you see him, you'll give it a try.

  “Ooh, I’m telling Deku.” You finish all the steps of the diaper and put a simple shirt on him, opting out pants. You get up and go through your stash of them and hand some to her.

“I think I’ve moved on, actually.” You gasp loudly, holding your hand to your chest. “The biggest Deku groupie left the club?”

“Oh, shut up. I let go. There are things he’s happier with and I realized I’m happy too. There’s no reason to chase something when going in a different direction.” She has a slight blush on her face yet if you look closer, has a forlorn look. That blushy face is a dead giveaway for something else, though.“Wait…you and-”

“Don’t say it!” 

“Ema and Eijrou sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-” She flings a pillow in your face, making Noa giggle. His dimpled face makes you smile wider. He’s got to be more than four months old now. How? You don’t know what you’re doing right. So, you’re happy about it.

That and knowing she likes Kirishima, the ideal baby daddy. "I'm just fond of him, okay? It's early, so it might, I don't know, be the project?"

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. Seeing them in the cafeteria was so sweet and domestic. It was something you could see for Ema. Something sweet, gentle, and kind. It's what you hope for her. Maybe Kirishima is the one who can provide that. They get along so well already and work together flawlessly. You become downcast as you think of all of the positives for her and Kirishima. Their teamwork.

You take a deep breath and stretch. After, you look around and slump your shoulders. “Shit, he has the bag. Can I borrow some formula? All I had was in that bag.” You look at Ema’s naturally glittery face. The glitter is used for freckles rather than the actual prints. You've asked her if it had to do with her quirk and surprisingly enough, it's just hereditary and not quirk related.

 “I’ll pay you back I swear.”  You put as much sincerity in your voice as you can. The dorms are locked so you can’t get to Kaibara and Noa’s going to have to feed soon. 

 Ema’s luminescent eyes look you over. She purses her lips then breaks into a playful smile. “I’ll accept it as a trade for the diaper.”

You don’t know how this is working, and you know in real life, there wouldn’t be this much support. Growing up you didn’t see half of this. Yet in such a short amount of time, the people around you made you feel safe and supported. You pray that one day you can pay them back. This whole thing is just an assignment. Nevertheless, this shows you the rare kindness of mankind. What a nice day this is.

_______________

 A few days later, you struggle to catch Kaibara. He’s actively avoiding you. Whenever you see him, he has the diaper bag and side eyes you. It’s nerve wracking and it’s pissing you off. There are things in there that you desperately need. 

You’ve managed to get some of the formula on your own. Noa is still at an awkward stage that his timer is set at four months but his development says different. You have to go to Hatsume to check on him.

In the morning, you put him in the wrap. You pack some of his things in an old, raggedy, backpack as a makeshift diaper bag. The actual baby bag is a lot better with more room, compartments and it’s absolutely sturdier. 

You take your notebook and write down the things he needs and on another page, a schedule that fits you. It’s a rough draft but with his schedule, the two of you should be able to compromise and come up with a plan. You’ve written down your number and where to find your room as well. The page even includes your friends’ numbers if he can’t get a hold of you. You pray that he can do the same and that there is an agreement on the plan.

   “Alright baby boy, let’s roll.” You see Ema and her baby girl, Hana. You poke her pink cheek. “Hey, little one.” 

“Ugh, don’t even.” Ema turns and walks. “What? What’d I do?”

“It’s not you, it’s her. She’s been so fucking ornery. All night she was screaming. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.”

   You really didn’t. You and Noa slept soundly. “I didn’t hear anything.”

   “Lucky. It’s my night to keep her and this happens.”

“She’s a newborn, right? It’s bound to happen.” Ema shakes her head. “Nope, she’s eight months old.”

  “Eight months…” You suddenly feel insecure of Noa or at least your parenting. He must be in the process of growing since he’s doing more than a four month old should yet he’s still behind. Ema’s a natural at this, though. She’s doing something better. That gold medal is shining in your eyes brighter than before. You shouldn't feel this way. Ema wouldn't rub anything in your face.

  “Yep! Eijrou and I make a great team. I can’t wait to tell him. And show the set of lungs his daughter has.” She looks at you evilly. 

    Exiting the general studies’ commons, Ema looks around for Benio but doesn’t see him. “He could already be inside fuming like usual. The ponytail girl has been ticking him off.”

  “I still don’t understand. She’s a sweet person. What’s going wrong?” Ema asks.

“If you haven’t noticed, it’s the general studies’ students that are getting stuck solely raising the babies.”

  “I’m not!”

You kick a pebble that was in the way on the sidewalk. “No, but you’ve got a good one. The rest of us are struggling.”

  She kisses Hana’s head. “Do you want me to tell Ei? I’m sure he can talk some sense into Kaibara.”

You’d love that. 

“No. If he’s anything like Tetsutetsu, it won’t get through to him. Tetsu’s already tried.”

   “Seriously?” You hold the door open for her. “Yep. I went to Kaibara’s dorm and when Tetsutetsu found out he isn’t helping, he yelled at him.”

   Ema puts her hand on her hips. “I can’t believe this. You should go to a teacher. This is a partnered assignment.”

“I’ll give him some more time but if this continues, I’ll go.” It has been a little over a week already. 

____________________________

  You’re insecure of your plan. Yona and Ken advised it. Even though it makes sense, it feels so drastic and serious to go that far. Plus, going to the teachers feels like snitching. You’re ticked that he’s not helping and scared that he’ll tell on you. It’s like he’s got all of the cards.

You wave Ema goodbye when you spot Kaibara. “Oh, Kaibara!” You wave your hand at him. He taps his foot and has a gleam in his eyes that doesn’t seem friendly. “How’s the formula? You have it in the bag.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yep.” The two of you talk at the side of the hallway. “I mean, is it running low? Because I also need some for when I take care of him.”

  He chuckles. “How long have you been working?” Your heart stops. “Kaibara…”

“No, because I gave you enough-”

“It was 20.” He glares at you. “Still, I gave you money when you didn’t need it. You stole.”

You can feel people watching as they go by. The tension between the two of you is getting higher. “I didn’t steal. This project involves the both of us. You act like I make a ton when I don’t. I work only for a few hours a week.”

  He slowly gets closer to you. He roughly hands you the diaper bag. “You make enough. Don’t ask fo-what is he wearing?”

  Noa wears a pink shirt with purple designs on it paired with grey leggings. He has thick white socks on his feet. “Clothes?”

  The shirt is from Yona and the grey leggings from Ken. The outfit looks very cute on him. Simple and easy.

 “Get that off of him.” His tone is steel and sharp. It makes you tense up for a second.

   You raise a brow, genuinely confused. “What?”

 “This is embarrassing. With the money you make you can’t put him in some good clothes?” You look down at Noa whose clothes are fine. “What’re you talking about?”

   “You did this on purpose.” He curses at you under his breath. A General Studies student walks past then stops and stares. They make eye contact with you. Their purple eyes wondering, asking, if you need help. The student takes off down the hallway.

You then remember that Ema uses Kirishima's first name to build a better bond. “It’s only clothes, Sen.”

  He curses again and roughly handles Noa, trying to take his shirt off. Noa begins to cry. You tell him to stop and get Noa away from him. Kaibara grabs your wrist painfully, making you yelp. You try to tug it free and protect Noa from having his clothes removed at the same time.

Just then, a scarred hand intervenes and grabs Kaibara’s wrist. Your partner looks shocked and then up at the owner. He’s, uh, a lot bigger than you thought he’d be. And his voice definitely sounds different in person. 

The man himself, Izuku Midoriya, aka Deku. His hands are large and his fingers slightly crooked. The scars and calluses tell stories of war and determination. His eyes are bright, like they're happy but his actions say different.

  Izuku says hello to his old friend while holding Kaibara's wrist tightly. You take this pause to grab Noa properly and readjust his clothing. This is all so fucking stupid. It’s like getting your group to help you do an assignment but they’re all fucking around. Fuck this, you’re putting your name on the paper and explaining to the teachers what happened. 

   “I’m sick of being nice to your dumb ass.” You tell Kaibara, who for the first time doesn’t look smug or annoyed. He looks…scared? In a gentle yet firm voice, Izuku Midoriya says, “Come on, let’s go.” 

His hand is placed on your waist to guide you away from Kaibara. He takes you away from his year hallway and towards the stairs.

“U-uh, I hope that was alright!” He rubs his hands together. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

   You expect him to walk away from you now that you’ve reached the stairs to go down to yours. Instead, he stays with you. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t think he’d act like that.”

  “It’s not a problem. He was out of line.” He smiles down at you and Noa. “Is that the first time he’s done that?”

  His hero voice is on. “You mean being rough? Yeah. Blowing me and this whole project off? No.” You shrug and try to act unbothered. But your wrist hurts and Noa is squirming. “I accept it now and what I have to do.”

  “What do you mean?” The two of you begin to walk down. “I’m going to the teachers about it. The assignment’s just started and this is happening.” You are down the stairs and into your hallway. Only a few students are left, scrambling to find their class and handle their babies at the same time.

  Izuku’s eyes take everything in. You hope that he’s piecing everything together. That your class are the ones doing anything.

   “I’ll go with you.” You stop. “You don’t have to, Izuku.” He was about to speak until you said his name. He gets all red and covers his face and sputters. “Was it okay to call you by your first name?”

  “Y-yes!” And just like that, this guy resorted to being a red sweaty thing that's lightly tugging on his thick curls. Well, it is a little warm in the building. The bell rings for everyone to be in class. You curse under your breath when Noa begins to fuss. “Hold this.” You shove the bag into Izuku's hands. “What do you need? I can help!” 

   “He feels dry and he ate, give me a bo-bo.” Izuku eagerly looks into the bag. He stops. “A what?” Ah, right. “A pacifier.”

 “Oh, okay. That's cute, by the way." 

"I'll tell Ema about the compliment," He stares into your eyes. You gesture to the bag. "Right! What compartment is it in?”

  “The front flap,” He digs into the yellow one. “No, the blue. That’s where I put it.” He searches for it and frowns. “Are you sure? There’s nothing here or the yellow one.”

  “Try the main one, the big zipper.” Dread is filling deep in your belly. In those flaps were his pacifier, rattle, things to that nature. Now that you look at it, it’s a little flat. 

   “I can’t find it.” Noa cries louder by the second. “Keep looking!” Izuku’s hand is inside the bag. You hear rustling of some things. “It’s not in here-”

“Are you kidding?! Keep looking!” You rock Noa, who is increasingly getting louder. You don’t mean to yell at Izuku. He didn’t do anything wrong. He has been more helpful and less violent than Kaibara has been. 

   He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, just breathe,” You follow his calm directions. “Here, give him to me.” You trade the baby for the bag. He coos at the assignment and rocks him. The little brat starts to calm down. Izuku talks softly to Noa, asking how his day has been, and that he has to be good for mommy, all of the sweet things you'd expect. 

  “Where is it? Where-” It really isn’t here. You suck in your lips. All that’s in there are some clothes, diapers, and formula in a Ziploc sandwich bag for some reason. And there isn’t even enough for one bottle.

   Snipe slides the door open. “I thought I heard you-Oh, Midoriya! Long time no see.” Izuku goes on about Snipe’s latest take down. According to him, it was excellent. “Well, I’m glad to see you back. I thought you had a while to go?”

  “I finished early. Go beyond, plus ultra?” He nervously chuckles. Snipe stares at him for a second. “Plus ultra, Midoriya.”

   He then turns to you. “What is Midoriya doing with Noa?” What a dramatic tone difference.

“Snipe, I’d like to talk to you and Dracula after class.” Snipe scoffs. “Do you mean Vlad King?”

  “King Vladimir? Isn't that Dracula?”

Snipe rubs his face under his mask. “Whatever.”

_____________________________

After class, you meet up with the two teachers, Snipe and Dracula who is now known as Vlad King. As if they aren’t the same name. You asked Midoriya if he could watch Noa for a minute which he gladly accepted, then reminded you to call if you needed him. Unlike Kaibara, he immediately gave you his number. Red faced and all. He looked like he was having a heart attack while doing it.

“Snipe, Dracula-”

“ Vlad King.” The man in red grumbles. “Whatever. I know this is based on real life but Kaibara did something that bothers me.”

  Snipe sighs and sits on the edge of his desk. “This is up for the two of you to figure out.”

  “He got physical with me and Noa. If you don’t believe me, Midoriya is right outside. He saw everything.” Both of the teachers freeze. Dracula clenches his fists. “What happened?”

  “Has he done this before?” Snipe sits up, no longer slouching. “This is the first time he’s done this. But not the first time he’s neglected the assignment. At every damn turn he’s blowing me off and complaining. He’s not helping me at all.”

  “Start from the top and down to when he was aggressive.” Dracula’s eyes become serious. Not angry at you, though. Thank God.

  You tell them everything, leaving out your job. Ken and Yona are brought up, only called friends, and how they’ve helped you. No one is excluded from their rightful praise. Your friends here, the sales lady, even Midoriya who helped you and is doing so right now by handling Noa. 

   Vlad cracks his knuckle. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Vlad-”

“No. This is unacceptable. I know it’s up to them to figure out but what happened can’t be ignored or tolerated.” His leg is bouncing and fists are clenched impossibly hard. His fangs seem sharper than normal and eyes are blazing. “As a hero, we cannot allow that behavior to continue. A hero from my class? No. Absolutely not!”

  “I know-”

“No! He fails-”

“Kan, please! I’m just as upset as you are but we are forgetting to check the facts.” Snipe gestures towards you to calm you down, already noticing how your nostrils flared. “What I’m saying is that we must investigate the situation. If we go in guns blazing, it can cause more harm than good.”

  You understand that, but it doesn’t seem like enough. 

“I want him to help me and to apologize. I’ve been doing everything while he just jacks around.”

“I understand, (Y/n). This will be handled.” Vlad stands up and Snipe grabs his wrist. “Let’s talk to Midoriya. He’s the only witness?”

“No, some other guy ran to get Midoriya. He’s got purple eyes and since he was taking care of a robo-baby, I can guess that he’s from general studies because I know heroes aren’t doing anything.”

Snipe scolds you. “I’m serious, Snipe. I’ve only seen two heroes with babies and they were Kirishima and Tetsutestu. That’s it.”

Vlad snatches his wrist back and opens the door, startling Izuku who was cooing at Noa and kissing his plump cheek. “After we talk to Kaibara, you will be called, understand?”

Unlike how he was just seconds before, Izuku gets serious and firmly nods. His round green eyes don’t have the cheeriness they had just moments before. 

“Do you want me to bring him here?”

“No, I’ll be the one to do it.” Vlad disappears as he goes down the hallway, no doubt looking for his student. Snipe calls your name, gaining your attention. "You need to be here for this. I want you to tell your side of the story for the record then we'll bring Midoriya in." "Mr. Snipe, what if Kaibara gets mad at me?" He jerks and straightens up. "We'll handle him. You are safe, don't worry."

You put your hands on your hips. "This happened right under your noses. Who knows how long he's been like thi-"

"(Y/n), it will be handled. We need to investigate and write a report but trust me," He leans in. "You are safe and it will be handled."

"What about Noa? Are you gonna make sure he helps with Noa?"

Snipe gives a breathy chuckle and starts to slouch a little. He takes his shawl off and places it on his desk. Finally, he is back to being your teacher and not his hero persona. It's amazing how fast these people can switch depending on the atmosphere. "We'll talk to him. Honestly, (Y/n), I wish you would've told me sooner that he wasn't helping."

You let out a loud, "Ha!"

  "I'm serious." Shaking your head you humorlessly chuckle. "No, no. You are the same guy who kicked me out of class because of a project that you are making us do started crying. No way you would have my back if it weren't for Dracula looking at you."

  He flinches like he's been struck. The door opens again and reveals Dracula, some teachers, and Nezu. Dracula speaks first. "Kaibara will be here shortly. He is cleaning up from his internship."

Nezu pops out of Aizawa's scarf and waves at you. "Please sit down and relax, (L/n). Just tell us what happened." 

  The two hero course homeroom teachers, Snipe, the principal and a few others, all sit down. You look around and then at your surroundings. "Um, shouldn't we be doing this in your office, Mr. Nezu? And not my homeroom?"

 "This is quicker!" 

You sigh and then begin. "Today, Kaibara roughly grabbed me and Noa." 

"The assignment, correct? Noa Kaibara?"

"Yes. Anyway, I went up to him and asked for the diaper bag-" The door opens again, allowing Kaibara to come in. He loses his smile when he sees you. Again, a hero changes his demeanor at a drop of a hat. As quickly as he looked at you in disdain, he erased that in less than a second with a nonchalant smile to his superiors. His beady eyes find yours and make you squirm. You aren't physically afraid of him. It's what he has on you that makes you flinch.

He stands side by side with you at a distance. Kaibara turns to you and asks, "Where's the baby?"

Pfft, like he cares. "Noa's with Izuku."  You side eye him. Nezu clears his throat and says, "Kaibara, (L/n) says you hurt her and almost jeopardized your project. Is this true?"

Kaibara sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He shrugs his shoulders. "Unfortunately, I do know what she's talking about but she is blowing it out of proportion." Aizawa's gruff voice interrupts him before he can continue. "But you did grab her?"

"Yes, yes I did."

You spot Dracula's vein swelling. "And why-"

You raise your hand. "Before you all continue to talk to him, I want to tell it," You shift your weight on your feet. "I put clothes on Noa that Kaibara didn't like so he roughly handled Noa. Noa's wellbeing is our," You shoot Kaibara a glare he couldn't miss. "Grade, so I tried to protect him, but Kaibara turned his aggression on me. He grabbed my wrist-which still hurts by the way-and-" You pause. Should you do this? Is it time?

You then remember how he hurt you and Noa. Noa's cries and him reaching out to you, your fear not just for Noa, but for yourself. Your head is held high now as you let everyone know what Kaibara has done or not done.

"Noa is wearing hand-me-downs that some friends of mine gave me because I can't afford newer clothes. There isn't anything wrong with what he's wearing. A pink shirt and grey leggings. That's it. That's what he had a problem with. That his son is wearing pink."

"Kaibara!" The student begins to get flushed and shrink back at the scolding of the pro heroes in front of him. "Not only that, but he has not helped at all. When this project first started, we went to a baby store next to that old vendor guy, and Kaibara gave me twenty bucks then split because he didn't want to help soothe Noa. He ran because his son started crying."

  Cementoss nods. "Well, nerves are normal for parents."

 You refrain from a snarky remark. "I know this. But that was the first and only time he's held Noa, and he still didn't help." You should tell them that he abandoned Noa with Ken. However, that'd give him the opening he needs. And by the look on his face that's slowly turning red not from embarrassment, but from anger, he'd snitch out of spite.

 You should tell them that he did care for him for a few hours. You can't, though. He's got one over you. 

"This morning, he scared and hurt me and Noa. Your star witness out there has held him longer than Kaibara has. My partner as well as the rest of the hero course’s behavior has sunk to this. And it’s happening right under your nose. Let that sink in."

The room is silent, giving you another chance to talk. “Your favorite students aren’t helping. Make them.”

Nezu twiddles his thumbs and looks at you from Aizawa's scarf or rope thing. "We'll handle this. You're dismissed."

__________________________________

You exit the room, not even looking at Kaibara. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets and he was steaming. When you close the door, the air finally returns to you. 

  Izuku still holds Noa in the hallway. He rocks him and adorably so. He notices you standing there with a smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle and warm. Filled with worry and compassion. It reminds you of the sweetness of Yona and Ken. 

  “I’m fine. Alright, it’s your turn.” You point your thumb towards the door. Right before you can get Noa from his arms, he still holds him as he rubs your shoulder and enters the room. “You…you took my baby.”

  To yourself, you whisper, “He took my baby.”

You look around the hallway to see if it's clear. When you see that it is, you finally cover your eyes and let a small tear fall. Is it because of Noa and the weight? What Kaibara did and the power he has? Maybe it's because you had to be saved by Deku, a hero. Or is it because you failed at doing something so basic: getting along with someone. Noa's not real, he isn't. But it hurts that he is rejected. Why?! He's a doll. One that breathes, has a heartbeat, and your face. Are these tears from exhaustion?

  Why are you crying silently in the hallway? This is just a grade. That has to be it. You're afraid you'll fail and lose your scholarship, and all of your hard work will go down the drain. You're afraid of being found out, that's all. Not because you can't get help from the person who is supposed to help you. Not because you feel like you are behind and everyone else is passing you. Not that your wrist still hurts. That reminds you, you have to go to Recovery Girl for it. And since she's not too far from Hatsume, you'll swing by and pick up some things.

Kaibara is in there. Would he get it or has this damaged everything? You take a deep breath. When Izuku comes out, you'll grab Noa and go to where you need to be. You hear the door open and a curious voice calls to you. You can hear Noa's senseless babbling behind you, too. What to say? What do you say about why you look like you’ve been crying?

  You will do what you know. You turn around and see Izuku hold a happy Noa. "U-uh, are you crying? What's wrong? Is it your wrist?" Izuku comes towards you. You roll your eyes and say, "No, I have allergies."

  Izuku looks behind you and doesn't see a window open. 

[kindheart525]

Who in the mane six do you believe would take the losses the worst?

Pinkie Pie 1000%. She’s functionally lost both of her children. One died a horrible and untimely death, and while the other is still alive, they severed that umbilical cord by choosing their country over her. She doesn’t blame Cheddar for this decision, since their loyalty is also to their dad who lost a spouse AND a child. But it hurts so, so much. She lives every day wondering if she’ll see them again, and even if she does, it may not be the same. Wondering where she went wrong that they find their stepfamily so unpleasant to be around. Wondering why she couldn’t protect her baby Taffy. And of course, her twin sister and one of her best friends are both dead, and the rest of her friends and sisters are so far away as she remains in hiding.

Rarity may also be separated from everypony in hiding, but her whole family is still alive. Twilight lost Shining, Flurry, and Cadence, and her eldest daughter was missing and feared dead for awhile; her whole family is very traumatized by the end of this, but her children and spouse are still with her. Applejack lost three out of her five children which has understandably done a number on her emotional health, but she’s still pushing through and has a lot of remaining family to depend on in these trying times. Rainbow Dash died pretty early on and even though her surviving family is struggling and mourning, she at least got to miss out on a lot of the turmoil this AU entails (if you don’t count Crash lecturing her ear off in the afterlife).

So unlike most of her friends, who have also lost and sacrificed but still have support systems, Pinkie is feeling especially isolated and taking it hard. But she’s not completely alone! Fluttershy has also joined her in Seaquestria, along with her niece and nibling too. Fluttershy herself is reeling over not only losing a spouse and sibling but also finding out the killer is her own family. However, it’s still in Pinkie’s nature to try to make others smile even if she struggles to do so herself. More than ever, Fluttershy reminds her of her late twin in her most outgoing state, and Piper and Rosie remind her of when her own babies were younger, which lifts her spirits to think about. So, the girls are providing each other a lot of comfort in their own special and unexpected ways.

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober Day 17: Lie

[In which Aoyagi's cover is blown]

"Hey, Master. Can I get another one of those bacon things?" The guy chuckles. "And another cup of kitty treats. Miyuki-chan's no cheap date, is she?"

"Comin' right up." Aoyagi warms up a bacon cheddar scone and scoops a cup of treats and sets them on a tray. "How ya doin' on coffee?"

"Ehh... it could stand warmin' up."

"You got it." Aoyagi picks up the tray in one hand and the coffee pot in the other and makes his way through the main room, deftly weaving around furniture and cats. He sets the tray down and unloads the scone and treats onto the guy's table. He reaches over to refill the coffee and--

Nothing happens. Of course nothing happens. He just tops up the guy's cup like he'd do anyone's and nothing else happens. But he thinks, just for a split second, he feels something in the air sort of turn and just for that split second he is certain the guy is going to grab him.

Got some shady characters in town lately, Chiba had said the other night, watching what Aoyagi guessed was a couple of said shady characters from across the Grand. They're not stirrin' up trouble. Probably nothin', but... Chiba didn't have to finish that sentence. Aoyagi heard about the ten bil missing from the Tojo vault. About the Third Chairman turning up dead. Is news like that the sort of thing that makes an ex-Tojo man in hiding a little nervous? You bet your ass it is.

Still, Aoyagi shakes that out of his head, collects the empty tray, and heads back to the other side of the counter. This is just one guy and he's behaving and being nice to the cats and ordering food and generally being a perfectly decent customer. It's fine.

"What'd you say your name was, Master?"

"Amano," Aoyagi says. It's automatic now. He had a few close calls early on. But it's not like this is the first time he's had to get used to a new name, right? Sojiro Amano is just the latest in the string. "And you?"

The guy doesn't answer, like he just didn't hear. Aoyagi doesn't press the issue. To be fair, Ringo (so named because he was one of an orphaned litter found in a fruit crate; his siblings Momo, Yuzu, and Ichigo have already been adopted) is currently trying to sneak into the dude's lap and that's enough to distract anyone.

"How's a guy get into the cat cafe business, Amano-san?" the guy asks while Aoyagi washes some of the dishes.

"Some guy with more money than sense bought the place," Aoyagi replies, with a little smirk he can't quite help. It's not entirely untrue, is it? "And he threw me at it to see if I'd stick."

"Looks like ya stuck."

"Looks like."

The guy munches on his scone and feeds treats to the cats in silence for a while. "You originally from around here? Ya sound like it."

"Osaka born n' bred," Aoyagi replies. There's a grain of truth in the bred part, he thinks--his bachan was from somewhere out Kansai way after all and all the Japanese he heard growing up was hers and his dad's. "You here on business?"

"Something like that."

The tone is pleasant enough but that's the kind of answer that both warns you not to press for details and dares you to do it at the same time. Aoyagi frowns as he scrubs a plate. The guy isn't wearing a pin. He looks like he could be a "family man" but could also just be some random dude speaking regular old tough-guy Japanese. He sure doesn't feel like a Majima man. He's being paranoid. Shit's poised to hit the fan in Tokyo. His boss (in Tokyo) tried to kill him. Of course he's nervous about some rando talking like a Tokyo tough guy sitting in his cafe, but it's not worth shitting bricks over in the middle of a shift.

"Sotenbori's a hell of a town, huh?" the guy asks him out of nowhere. "You never know what you're gonna see here."

Despite his nerves, Aoyagi can't help but grin. "Ya got that right. Just when ya think you've seen everything, this place throws ya a whole new curveball."

"Heh. No kidding. Always some wild shit goin' on." The guy laughs, a nice normal easy laugh, and Aoyagi starts to think he's being really, really stupid about this. "Ya ask me... I think this place is haunted."

"Haunted?" Aoyagi sputters out a laugh. "Dunno if I'd go that far, but..."

It hits him, then. What the guy means. What that nasty smile on his face means.

"Y'know," the guy says, and it's all Aoyagi can do to not leap over the counter and snatch Ringo away from the dude, "if I had a yen for every yakuza that disappeared in Kamurocho and turned up here a couple years later..." He laughs again. It's not the easy laugh. It's a sharper one. Uglier. "Well. I'd have two yen. Which ain't much... but it sure is weird that it happened twice." He goes on petting Ringo like none of this is happening and Aoyagi does his damndest to keep his poker face on but he can feel the blood draining out of his head. "Ain't that weird... Aoyagi-chan?"

[corkcitylibraries]

Echoes of our Past | March 3rd 1923

Librarian Richard Forrest takes a look at news highlights published in The Echo 100 years ago this week.

In City and County

An active Irregular surrendered yesterday to National Troops at Dunmanway and handed up a Colt automatic pistol. Another surrendered at Youghal Barracks without arms. He signed the declaration and was released. James Walsh, who had been very active, was captured at Whitegate. He had escaped from the Mercy Hospital some time ago. In the city, also yesterday, a man named Lonergan was arrested. He had been on the run for some time. Jack Healy, Hibernian Buildings, was arrested at his home. He was an Irregular battalion I.O. A man named O’Mahony was arrested at a dance hall on the 28th on suspicion. A few shots were fired at National Troop outposts in Kinsale last night. There were no casualties.

Around the Country

At 1 o’clock yesterday morning raiders entered the residence a mile outside Roscrea of Dr. J.J. O’Connell, tuberculosis medical officer for North Tipperary. They sprinkled the beautiful home with petrol, set it on fire, and partially destroyed it. C.I.D. men raided a house on Lindsay Road, Glasnevin, Dublin this morning and seized the following: 16 revolvers, 2 Lee Enfield rifles, 300 rounds of .303 ammunition, 300 rounds of machine gun ammunition, 18 bombs, 6 bayonets, 2 boxes of “cheddar” and 4 mine detonators. Three arrests were made. The Midland Great Western mail train from Ballina to Dublin was wrecked at Kiltoom, Co. Roscommon yesterday. The Blessington, Co. Wicklow steam tram was held up and the passengers ordered out, it was then sent on its way to its destruction.

Civic Guard in Clonakilty

The Civic Guard arrived in Clonakilty on Tuesday and took up quarters in a fine building on Sovereign Street lately occupied by the National Troops who have removed to other locations. The Guards made a great impression as manly, sturdy, athletic Irishmen. It is expected that a District Justice and Clerk will soon be appointed and a local court will be operating again as heretofore.

Airmen’s Aerial Tribute

A dramatic and touching incident took place during the funeral procession for General Galvin at Mallow. The officers and men of the Irish Air Service stationed at Fermoy, with whom General Galvin was closely associated, presented from an aeroplane a large laurel wreath. As the funeral was leaving the church, a parachute bearing the wreath was released from a height of about 500 feet. The accuracy was excellent, for the tribute touched the ground just yards from the funeral cortège. A fitting tribute from the air officers to their dead comrade.

Dead Men Come Home

Twelve Grimsby fishermen, who were mourned as dead by their wives and families, have been discovered safe in Iceland. Early in January they left for the fishing grounds on board the steam trawler Sargon. Terrible gales swept the North Sea after it passed the coast of Norway, and as the days went by without news of the men, they were regarded as lost. The trawler was officially declared as such and the wives received compensation. All had gone into mourning except Mrs. Thomas, who declared again and again, “my man is not dead, he will come home to me, something is telling me so”.

Umbrella Life

He was a clever, cute Commander long ago who asked his General if “the natives of this town are webfooted?” If only we were! Tram-worry, at least, would plague us less. To find one is, first of all, the greatest trouble. To seek seating inside – well, that is nothing but a sign of mental weakness. Standing, sitting, leaning, bending, the unfortunate people are huddled together in saturated masses while paying the highest fares in the British Isles. Fares collected by a Conductor who surely cannot fail to feel other than embarrassed at the poor value his firm is giving in exchange. The umbrella – now that is your true trusty friend! All that men have lived for, yearned for, slaved for, and, alas in many cases, profiteered for, may be observed any day under Cork umbrellas. However unkind the climate and the Corporation, one cannot feel unhappy in the midst of such consolations. How much of the romance that wreaths our varied existence is woven round those umbrellas that in many a suburban roadway turn winter in Cork into a paradise of dreams for the brave and the fair. Of course, oft do we bring disturbance and whole evenings of misery upon themselves through forgetting to “take your umbrella with you, John”. But it must, on the whole, be conceded that the umbrella is a great friend to Cork folk. Apart from the amount it saves in milliner’s bills, the failure of our tram service to make even a semblance of catering for climatic shelter makes its value incalculable. One is tempted to conclude that umbrella dealers and manufacturers possess more than a passing interest in the Cork Tramway organisation.

Ireland (?) vs. Scotland

Following on from the Five Nations defeat against England (23-5) comes another knockout, this time against Scotland in Dublin by 13 points to 3. So far, the Old Country has figured badly in these tests. But what is more to the point is the regrettable fact that the so-called Irish team represents just a small proportion of our athletic prowess. Times have changed greatly and there should now be very little heard of “foreign” games. In sport, as in other important directions, unity is desirable amongst us if our country is to attain the rank of nationhood. Let us then combine – unity is strength – and demonstrate to the world that in field games, as in the intellectual arena, we can hold our own against all comers. By playing the games of other countries, there may, at least, be some prospect of their taking up Irish games.

[protagonistspub]

Cheddar Late than Dead by Linda Reilly

Cheddar Late than Dead by Linda Reilly was an Advanced Reader’s Copy courtesy of Poisoned Pen Press/Source Books. It is a cozy mystery and the third in the Grilled Cheese Mystery series. The book releases on 31 January 2023. It is winter in Balsam Dell, VT and Carly is roped into catering a bridal shower for a high school classmate. During the shower, the groom ends up dead and Carly cannot help…

[wonderlandleighleigh]

He goes into the back bathroom, throws up, and promptly slams his head on the floor, groaning softly.

It takes Luke Danes a moment pick himself up. He dusts off shirt off and splashes water on his face, before grabbing a paper cup and guzzling down some water.

What was he thinking, turning this old place into a diner? The hardware store didn’t even make a profit at the end, what makes him think this will be any different? Any better? 

Too late now. Kitchen’s built. Counter’s refurbished. Tables are set up, food’s purchased. It’s either this or the military and he’s terrible at taking orders, so...

So he adjusts his baseball cap and heads out with purpose, finding the store - diner - whatever- empty.

Except for one person.

Midge smiles from her seat at the counter and waves at him. 

“Hey,” Luke says, surprised. 

“Hi,” she responds. 

“It’s six in the morning,” he tells her.

“The older I get the earlier I wake up,” Midge shrugs. “I wish I’d been able to get up this early when my kids were little, it would have made life easier.” 

“I bet,” he nods, walking over with a pen and his order pad. “What uh...what can I getcha?” 

“Coffee,” Midge tells him as she glances at his menu. “And eggs and toast.” 

“How do you want your eggs?” Luke asks, scribbling. 

“Scrambled.” 

“Cheese?” 

Midge smiles slowly. “Cheddar. Don’t bring my mother back from the dead, she’ll get judgmental,” she jokes. 

Luke laughs just a little. “Rye toast?” 

“With extra butter,” Midge tells him. 

He nods. “You want bacon?” 

“Oh, if I order bacon, I won’t need you to necromance my mother, she’ll come back on her own,” Midge quips. She looks around and spies the donuts under the glass dish. “Can I get a chocolate sprinkle donut to go, too, for Lenny?” 

“Sure thing,” Luke nods. “I’ll get this going.” 

“Thanks, Sweetie.” 

He nods and pours her some coffee before heading to the back, glancing out the window from the kitchen too keep an eye on things while he cooks. 

“The place is great,” Midge tells him. 

“You haven’t tried to food yet,” Luke reminds her.

“Please,” Midge waves him off as she sips her coffee. 

“What if this doesn’t work?” Luke asks. 

“It will.” 

“But what if it doesn’t?” 

“Then you’ll figure something else out,” Midge tells him. “But it will. Your coffee is better than Fran’s.” 

“Stop.” 

“Not a lie, this stuff is good,” Midge tells him. “Just don’t tell her I said that or she’ll put a hit out on me. I’ll have to take a to-go cup for Lenny, too.” 

Luke laughs at that and shakes his head. He scrambles her eggs with care, adding the cheese, before toasting the rye and scooping some butter into a small dish for her, setting everything out, before using a napkin to grab a donut and carefully placing it in the bag. 

Midge digs in, eating happily. “Mm. Extra butter in the eggs?” 

“A little sour cream,” Luke responds. 

She nods. “the quickest way to an old Jew’s heart to make it stop beating. Can I have some hot sauce please?” 

Luke can’t help a laugh as he grabs her a bottle of tabasco. “Stop that.” 

“You know I can’t resist a good punchline,” Midge reminds him. 

He busies himself as she eats, wiping down the counters for the fiftieth time, making sure the tables are stocked with extra napkins and ketchup bottles. 

When she finishes, he rings her up at the ancient cash register his father bought god-knows-when and she hands him the money.

Along with a fifty dollar tip.

“Midge. No.” 

“It’s a free country,” she tells him, lifting her chin. “If I want to give you an insane tip on your opening day, I will, and you can’t stop me.” 

“Midge-” 

“Coffee for Lenny, please.” 

He deflates and goes to get it. “You’re never paying for coffee here ever again.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

Midge smiles at him and takes the coffee and the donut bag. “Thanks Luke. Have a great first day.” 

He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thanks, Midge.” 

As she heads for the door, Miss Patty wanders in, and she takes her by the arm. 

“Get the eggs. They’re to die for,” she says. 

“Stop that,” Luke scolds. 

Midge grins at him, and steps out into the morning. 

[buckleyblueyes]

ahh that's amazing! thank you in advance. I got this idea into my head: what if there is this one time they're all on a call, and maybe it's something that hits a little too close to home for Buck, maybe it's playing on his fears and insecurities, but the moment Buck sees what they're dealing with he gets SCARED, and freezes, and subconsciously grabs Eddie's hand, because Eddie makes him feel safe. He is his best friend (who he's in love with, ofc) after all. Eddie is well. Surprised. Very much.

Anon! Thank you so much for your patience with this one! I know it's been ages since you sent it in. I hope it's worth the wait and that I did justice to your prompt! (CW: drowning)

Eddie feels Buck tense up beside him as soon as Bobby tells them where they're going: Splash Zone Water Park. They have calls to pools fairly often, and Buck always gets a little bit tense going into it, no matter how long it’s been since the tsunami. Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s in the truck, offering a silent comfort to his friend. Buck seems to push down his fears by the time they pull up to the scene, forcing himself to shift into Firefighter Buckley mode as they make their way through the park. Eddie lets himself be relieved, until they arrive in front of the wave pool.

Of course it’s the goddamn wave pool. Even worse, there’s a nine year old boy laid out on the stone patio next to the pool, dripping wet, brown hair plastered to his forehead. He’s unconscious, bleeding from the side of his head, and his chest isn't rising and falling like it should be. Buck freezes immediately at the sight, reaching out for Eddie with his right hand, and wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s left wrist. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that Buck is feeling for his pulse, grounding himself.

Eddie does his best to steady his breathing and heart rate once he realizes what Buck is doing. The sight in front of them is upsetting to him, of course it is, but he knows it’s worse for Buck. He’s not the one who walked around for hours not knowing if Christopher was dead or alive. He’s not the one who almost died himself (at least, not that day.) “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, so only Buck can hear. “I’m here, I’m alive. That’s not Christopher.” It’s purely a medical call at this point, so he makes no attempt to move away from Buck as Hen and Chimney begin administering CPR to the boy. His mother is crying, wailing, begging them to save him. His lips are turning blue. Buck’s grip on Eddie’s wrist is like a vice.

“We got a pulse!” Hen finally calls out.

Buck’s grip doesn’t loosen, but Eddie does hear him let out of a heavy breath. He twists his hand out of Buck’s grip just enough that he can slide his arm up, so Buck is no longer holding his wrist, but is holding his hand. He gives Buck’s hand a firm squeeze and finally hazards a glance up at the man in question. Buck is staring at their intertwined hands now, confused. At least, Eddie decides, he’s distracted from the drowning boy. He runs his thumb along the back of Buck’s hand, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

He knows they’re crossing some kind of line here, that hand holding in the middle of an emergency scene (even one where their presence turned out not to be strictly necessary) is not something that he’ll be able to brush off as strictly platonic. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, though. Maybe it’s because he watched Buck date Taylor, so he knows how much worse it would be to not have Buck, or maybe it’s all the therapy he’s been in since the shooting. Either way, Eddie’s not afraid anymore. He and Buck have been on the edge of something--or maybe everything--for months, so if holding Buck’s hand will help ground him, keep his mind from thrusting him back in time, then it’s a risk Eddie is willing to take.

Hen and Chimney are loading the boy into the ambulance--he is breathing again, still unconscious and probably severely concussed, but alive--when Bobby finally makes his way over to them. He takes in the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, and the fact that their hands are still tightly clasped together, and frowns.

“You boys alright?” He asks, but he’s looking at Buck.

Buck nods slowly. “I--Yeah. Just...Brought up some bad memories.”

“This was a rough one,” Bobby agrees. “I’m gonna take us off rotation for a while when we get back to the station.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t say anything.

Bobby smiles in that warm, fatherly way of his, looking between them. “Take care of each other.”

As if there’s any universe where they wouldn’t.

Eddie doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand until they get back to the station, and only because he needs two hands to cook.

“I’m not hungry,” Buck says, still hovering in Eddie’s space.

“You were about to eat before the call came in,” Eddie insists gently. “You need to eat.”

“And you’re gonna cook for me?” Buck shakes his head. “I think I’ll take my chances with starvation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, pulling out a griddle and a clean spatula. “I think I can handle grilled cheese, Buck.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes in surprise. “Grilled cheese?”

“Maddie may have mentioned making it for you a lot growing up.” Eddie flushes slightly at having to admit he’s talked to Maddie about Buck. “I thought it would be comforting.”

Buck stares at him, eyes wide and mouth turning up into a tentative smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles back. “Now, go sit down.”

Eddie bustles about the kitchen, pulling out the good buttermilk bread that Chimney always buys instead of the whole wheat bread that Bobby puts on the list, the pre-sliced cheddar cheese, and the butter. “After we eat, how about we video call Christopher?” It’s late in the afternoon, he’ll be home from school by now.

Buck lets out a long exhale. “Yes, please.”

Eddie flips the bread slices on the griddle and places the cheese slices on the toasted side. “Great.”

“I--” Buck starts. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

Eddie looks up from the sandwiches. “How to ask for what?”

“To talk to Christopher,” Buck draws patterns on the tabletop with his index finger. “I know I’m not--He’s not mine.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just plates up the sandwiches, brings them over to the table, and sits down next to Buck, who takes a small, tentative bite.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What?”

“You said Christopher isn’t yours,” Eddie picks up his sandwich, but doesn’t bite into it. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Buck is staring at him again, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what we are anymore, Buck,” Eddie admits. “Things are different between us now, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you love Christopher, and that he loves you just as much. If that doesn’t give you a right to call him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, then I don’t know what does.”

“I…” Buck’s eyes fill with tears.

"It's okay, Buck." Eddie reaches over to wipe Buck's tears with his thumb. “Just eat your grilled cheese."

Buck does as he’s told, making it halfway through the sandwich in three bites. “You know, there’s no law that says we have to wait until we finish eating to call Christopher.”

Eddie raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking up from his own half-eaten lunch. “Will you actually finish eating if we call now?”

“Absolutely.” Buck takes a big bite to prove his point. “See?” He says, through a mouthful of food. Something so childish shouldn’t be so endearing, and yet, somehow it is.

Helpless, Eddie pulls out his phone. Carla answers on the second ring. “You better have a good reason for interrupting math homework.”

“I do.” Eddie assures her. “Can you put Chris on?”

Carla gives him a look, but does as he asks. Christopher is grinning--probably excited to have his math homework interrupted “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kid.” Eddie can’t help but return his son’s smile. “How’s the math homework going?”

Christopher’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, it’s good.”

Somehow Eddie doesn’t totally believe that, but it’s not important now. “Listen, I’ve got somebody here who wants to say ‘hi’, is that okay?”

The boy’s smile comes back even wider than before. “Is it Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough that the phone can catch it. “It’s me.”

“Hand the phone to Buck, Dad!” Christopher is bouncing with excitement. “Hand the phone to Buck!”

He does, scooching his chair closer so he can still see the screen himself, and before Buck can even greet Christopher, the kid is launching into a monologue.

“Buck! Dr. Lassiter assigned us a big, semester-long project for science class, can you pleeeaaase help me with it? I want to build a model of the solar system, but it has to be totally accurate.”

The tension Buck's body has been holding onto since the phrase “water park” fell from Bobby’s lips is finally starting to fade.

“Absolutely. Do we want it to move?”

Christopher’s eyes widen on screen. “Yes!”

Buck laughs. “Well then, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Eddie smiles softly, as Buck and Christopher begin planning their project. He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, but to be fair, that’s what he is. He rests one hand over the crook of Buck’s elbow, and doesn’t miss the pink that appears across his cheeks.

“Alright, you three,” that’s Carla’s voice, “Somebody still has math homework to finish, and I’m sure you boys will have to get back to work soon.”

Eddie sighs. Carla is right, unfortunately. But Buck looks lighter than he has all day. “We better do what Carla says.”

“Will you come over after work?” Christopher asks. They won't get off until after Christopher will already be at school, so Buck will probably go to his loft after work. But Eddie doesn’t doubt now that Christopher has asked, Buck will manage to make it over to their house by the time Christopher is home from school. He wonders if it's too soon to ask Buck to sleep in his bed, instead of going to his loft at all. It's yet another line to cross, but at this point Eddie's lost track of all the lines they've crossed.

“You bet,” is Buck’s answer. “Now get back to your math!”

“Okay, dad,” Christopher says, rolling his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s meant to be a joke at Buck’s expense, but Eddie can see the breath catching in Buck’s throat all the same, so he pulls the phone from his hand and takes over.

“Good-bye, Christopher! We love you!”

“Bye Dad! Bye Buck! I love you guys, too.”

Buck finds his voice again. “Bye Superman!”

“So,” Eddie says, putting the phone down. “Do you feel better now?”

“Eddie…” Buck hesitates, dropping his hand down so it rests over Eddie’s. His skin is warm and rough and unlike earlier Eddie can actually enjoy the feeling. “Thank you.” He’s thanking Eddie for more than just the grilled cheese and the phone call, and Eddie knows it.

His answer is simple. He turns his hand over, and interlocks their fingers. “Always, Buck.”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch5. Chilli Fries And Appletize

Summary: Fliss hormones are raging so Frank decides she need something a little special

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW NO UNDER 18s!!)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ALERT!!

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

Who can take you higher, than twin deep mountain blue, oh well I’ve built this thing for you, and I love you true…

 “Fuck!”

Frank heard Fliss’ shout from the living room where he was sprawled on the sofa. She’d gone to take a bath, Mary was at Roberta’s so the pair of them were simply taking a bit of time to relax after what had been a fairly draining week, both physically and mentally.

“Fliss?” he called back as Thor stood up from where he had been curled on the rug, Fred leaning against him using him as a pillow as the feline always seemed to do. He watched the dog pad to the door and then stood up following him down the hallway. He entered the bedroom and found Fliss was stood in a pale blue dress, tears in her eyes.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He frowned.

“This fucking dress!” She practically exploded, her voice cracking. I only bought it a few weeks ago for Jake’s wedding and I just thought I’d try it on with my new shoes and it won’t do up at the back.”

Frank looked at her, feeling a pang of sympathy for his girl. She’d been really up and down in particular over the last two days with her hormones and she looked absolutely distraught, even if it was something so ridiculous as a dress that had set her off.

“Let me see.” he said, crossing the floor towards her. She turned and he gently reached for the zip, pulling the back of the dress together but it wasn’t going to fasten.

“See…” she sighed as he let go of the zip and rubbed the top of her arms. “I’m not even at the five month mark yet!” “You’re a week off.”

“And I feel huge! This is ridiculous!”

Frank slid his arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Lissy, Bean has just sprouted all of a sudden that’s all. You got a proper bump now.” “I am aware of that, Frank.” She snapped.

Frank took a deep breath, not rising to her in the slightest. Instead his hands moved to either side of the offending swell in her abdomen and he turned her gently towards the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Look.” He said, fixing his eyes on hers in their reflection as his hand skated over her belly “You’re beautiful, and you’re cooking our baby in here…”

“That still doesn’t help that I have no dress!”

“Ok, well, let’s go shopping tomorrow. Mary’s at that party in the afternoon so we’ll drop her off, head into town and grab you something.”

Fliss paused as she looked at him in the mirror, her face slowly rearranging as she realised that actually the solution to the problem had been fairly simple all along.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. “I flipped again didn’t I?”

“Its fine.” Frank dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t throw a mug on the floor today so that’s an improvement.” “In my defence,” she turned to look at him, “you did ask me about five times if I was feeling ok in the space of ten minutes” “And clearly you weren’t as said mug is now in three pieces.” He shook his head and let out a long, dramatic sigh “You know I loved that mug too. It was a sad day.” Fliss snorted “You got it free from the Tack Store when we took Mary for her new hat.” “And it was a treasured memory. A reminder of how she stung me for another hundred bucks…” “Can’t put a price on safety Frankie.” She smiled and he chuckled.

“So, tomorrow afternoon then?” He asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Can we go to Tampa? The shopping is better there.”

“Sure.” And suddenly the bones of a plan began to form in his head. And it was a good plan…if he could pull it off… “Crisis averted?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

“Good.” he smiled, kissing her cheek before he turned to leave the room to allow her to change for bed.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” He stopped to look at her.

“I really want fries.”

“McDonalds again?”

“No, I want Chilli Fries.” She said, her voice almost puzzled.

“Chilli fries?” He frowned “Really? That’s a new one.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I just got a hankering, specifically for the ones we get from Tequila Mockingbird.”

Frank glanced at his watch “Sweetheart, it’s almost Eleven. The truck will have shut now, he only opens late on Saturday.”

“Oh, okay.” She said quietly, and he could see to his horror that her bottom lip was starting to wobble. Fuck, not another meltdown. Was this seriously how it was going to be for the next four damned months? Fucking hormones…

“Why don’t I nip to the store?” A sudden idea popped into Frank’s head. “I can whip up a batch of the dirty ones you showed me how to make?”

“Yeah, yeah that could work.” She nodded.

“Ok, well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He smiled, turning on his heels.

It worked out quite well actually, as he used the short drive to the store to put his plan into action. First off he messaged Jake who called him straight back.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I need you to do me a favour.” Frank said, explaining his plan.

“Short notice pal.”

“Yeah but you owe me so pull some strings with the man you know.”

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

“If you hadn’t been tagged on those damned photos no one would have seen them and I wouldn’t have been couched for a night nor would I be suffering with blue balls.” Frank said simply, turning right across a junction.

Jake snorted “Leave it with me Frankie boy…I’ll see what I can do.”

Satisfied he cut the call and once he arrived at the store he shot Verity a quick message asking her if she would mind helping him out as well. He felt a little guilty, as they’d only gotten back from Italy that morning but she replied almost instantly telling him that she thought it was a great idea and her and Bill would be happy to do what he needed them to do.

Smiling he put his phone back in his pocket, and headed to the frozen food aisle at the back of the 24 hour mini-mart. He stood there, unable to decide what fries to buy so in the end he grabbed a bag of every available frozen ones there were- thick cut, curly, southern fried and thin, along with a tin of ready-made chilli (yes, disgusting but on dirty fries it was the only thing Fliss told him worked) and a block of cheddar cheese. As he walked towards the till he stopped, grinning as he spotted they had the big bottles of Appletize too, so he shoved 4 in his basket and headed to the counter.

The woman at the counter looked at him as he began unloading and Frank realised that it was a pretty odd combination.

“You either got the munchies or your girl is pregnant.” She quipped and Frank laughed.

“It’s the latter.” He smiled, and the woman grinned at him as she scanned the items through the till.

Once he had paid he headed home to find Fliss was led on the sofa with a toasting waffle in one hand and a glass of apple juice in her other.

“Couldn’t wait huh?” He asked as he walked through to the kitchen.

“I know.” She looked at him over the back of the couch. “I had an apple and a waffle and I feel okay now.”

Frank stopped dead and turned to face her, the paper grocery bags clutched to his chest. “Seriously? You don’t want the fries?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

Frank took a deep breath, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in frustration as he walked into the kitchen, depositing the bags on the side.

“The kid ain’t even born yet and it’s already a pain in my ass…”

“I can hear you grumbling from here.” Fliss called back.

“Good.” He retorted as he shoved the bottles of drink in the fridge and crammed the four bags of frozen fries into the freezer. Grabbing a beer he walked back into living room and dropped heavily onto couch next to her.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” She teased, listing her feet into his lap. He shot her a glare and she dropped her hand to her belly. “Bean is sorry.” She flashed him her best puppy dog eyes, those fucking eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

“Don’t pull that one.” He narrowed his own eyes at her and she cocked her head to one side.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” He asked as she looked at him, smirking.

“Bow job?”

Frank snorted, shifting slightly in his seat as that had really got his attention. But, not wanting to give himself away too much he simply arched an eyebrow at her. “You think you can win me over like that?”

“Sailor, I know I can.”

“I’m not that cheap.”

“No, but I know for a fact you haven’t had any since the night before you went to Vegas.” she grinned “What was it you said in New York after a mere three days? Frankie has needs.”

Okay, so she’d got him well and truly. Like he had said to Jake before, he really was feeling frustrated, but he hadn’t pushed anything on her at all since he’d come back from Vegas, deciding to let her make the decision as to when she wanted to get physically intimate with him again. As he looked at her she simply smiled and drained her glass of juice before setting it on the table.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Frank shook his head. “Was just trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.” She held his gaze for a moment before she looked back at the TV, teasing over. With a deep breath Frank shifted a little, getting himself comfortable, trying to push the dirty thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the episode of ‘911’ which was playing. His hands gently began to massage at her feet, thumb gently pressing into the arch of one and Fliss gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as he continued, before she sat up and looked at him.

“Did you get any curly fries?” She bit her lip.

“Are you for fucking real?” He looked at her, blinking.

“Don’t blame me…”

“Yeah, yeah blame Bean.” He shook his head “I swear to God by the time you’ve actually given birth to the little crotch goblin I’ll have aged about twenty years…”

“Crotch goblin?” She scoffed, “I’ll remind you, pal, you put it there!”

“Not on purpose!” He looked at her.

“Are you calling our baby a mistake?” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him, mock horror on her face

“Mistake, no, that’s a little harsh.” Frank shook his head “Accident, most definitely.”

“Bastard.” Fliss grabbed a cushion from behind her and hit him with it as he laughed, grabbing it out of her hands.

“Our little Boston Bean is a very pleasant and welcome surprise.” Frank smiled, shifting her legs out of his lap. Grinning he leaned over her, caging her on the sofa with his arms “Although right now, as I’m about to start cooking dirty fries at fifteem to midnight, I’m debating the use of the pronoun pleasant.”

Fliss chuckled as he leaned over to give her a soft kiss. Instantly she felt a little flutter again and her hand dropped to her bump.

“Bean’s moving again.”

Frank smiled and shifted a little so he could press his hand to her side, but after a moment or so shook his head, feeling ever so slightly deflated.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You will do soon enough.”

“Can’t wait.” Frank kissed her again and stood up, heading to the kitchen.

Fliss watched him go, before she turned back to the TV, but she wasn’t paying attention, she was too busy thinking to herself how quickly Frank had headed out to get her what she wanted before, even if she had then changed her mind, and then reverted it back to its original state. She hated comparing the two of them, and tried not to do it, but as she sat there she couldn’t help it. Frank was as far from John as could possibly be. Her ex-husband wouldn’t have ever done anything like that for her, whether she as carrying his kid or not. But Frank hadn’t even hesitated. And now he was actually about to cook it too. She wasn’t sure John had even known how to turn the damned oven on. When she’d met Frank, his cooking skills were also limited but he had wanted to learn. He helped her cook, listened and managed pretty much once she’d made something with him, to make a fairly decent version of it on his own. And he did this simply because he wanted to. He had openly admitted that he didn’t like the fact she felt like she had to cook every day, despite her protests she didn’t mind, and specifically on the evenings she got home a little later than normal, he wanted to be able to have something ready.

As she sat there, those thoughts whirring in her head, she felt a surge of affection for her Sailor. Since their talk on Monday, she’d let Frank back into their bed but there’d been no intimacy, although she’d let him cuddle her, she’d kissed him back, she hadn’t been unaffectionate per se, but in all honesty she hadn’t been in the mood for anything else, which was probably something down to hormones as well as her still being a little angry at him, but now…well, she’d seen it in his eyes before when she’d been teasing him, he was frustrated as hell.  And if she was honest, she now found herself in the mood for giving him a little spontaneous pleasure…

With a smirk she stood up and walked into the kitchen, her arms snaking around his waist as she pressed herself to his back (well as much as she could thanks to the football she had in her stomach) and pressed a soft kiss to his back, just beneath his shoulder blades.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice vibrating through his back into her chest and she nodded as her hands rubbed at his stomach under his T-shirt. She felt him tense a little, and grinning to herself, she gently moved her hands upwards to rake down the line of hair that led from his chest all the way down his belly. She knew what that did to him and right on cue, Frank gave a grunt, jolting a little and her hand continued to move downwards, palming at his crotch through his sweats.

“Lissy.” His voice caught in his throat as she continued, her hand working him up over his clothing. “What I said before, you don’t need to-“ “I know, but I want to.” She stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. He tilted his head downwards slightly, allowing her to nip at his jawline and as he spun round to face her, she pulled his head down to hers giving him a slow kiss, her tongue sliding against his before she leaned back, his bottom lip between her teeth.

By the time his brain had caught up with what was going on, Fliss had gotten to her knees and flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly. She stroked him to full hardness, which didn’t take that long at all, before she looked up and locked eyes with him, giving him one final smirk before she took him in her mouth.

“God, Baby.” Frank groaned, his left hand gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her eyes still locked on his. His right hand gently dropped to the back of her head, tangling in her long hair as her head bobbed back and forth. It was bliss, her mouth was warm, lips soft, but her tongue…God she knew just how to work him with that thing and as he felt it wrap around the base of his cock he gave a grunt, his hips bucking forward slightly. At that, Fliss pulled off of him to suck at the swollen tip of his dick and worked her hands over the rest of his length which sent shivers up his spine. Groaning, his head dropped back slightly, as she continued to lick, suck before she took him in, this time all the way, her cheeks hollowing and one of her hands reaching round from the back of his thigh to gently squeeze at his balls.

“Fucking hell!.” He hissed, his hand tightening in her hair and once more he looked at her. Her eyes locked back onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth pooling in his groin and stomach.

"Lissy, sweetheart, shit." His voice was raspy from desire and pleasure and at the mere sound of how turned on his was Fliss felt the wetness beginning to pool in between her legs. He continued to babble curse words and her name, before he gasped again, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck, honey, "I'm gonna-" his words caught in his mouth as Fliss took him all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the kitchen side, noises that sounded alien even to him tumbling from his mouth as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out against the kitchen side.

Fliss grinned, her hands gently running up the outside of his thighs as she stood up, pulling his boxers and sweats with her, pressing herself to his chest. With a soft hum of contentment, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Good?” She asked, but the look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what the answer was. Still, he gave it her anyway. “Damned right it was.” He grinned, leaning down and kissing her, his hands holding her face in position. She let out a soft moan into his mouth and he pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow.

“You all worked up baby girl?”

“Don’t suppose you fancy helping me out…” She whispered, and Frank grinned.

“We got fifteen minutes till the fries cook so…” He smirked as he gently spun her round so her back was clutched to his chest.  Fliss grinned to herself as his lips gently brushed on her neck, his beard scratching at her skin as he nipped his way down to her shoulder, his hand splaying over her bump before it worked beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers skated her entrance.

“You are worked up.” he muttered, his fingers sliding through her slick, as her head fell back against his shoulder and she bit her lip.

“I told you…” she muttered as his fingers slipped further into her folds, finding that little bundle of nerves. His other hand slipped up her vest top and ran up her side to her breasts, which he knew would be tender, but the plus side to that was that they were goddamned sensitive, so heightened to his touch and it got her off like nothing he’d ever seen before. True to form, she let out a soft squeak as he rolled a nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. Sliding his fingers inside her he curled them against the fleshy spot on her walls, both his hands working in synch, a coordinated attack on her senses and within minutes she was putty in his hands.

“Frankie…I’m…fuck!” she cursed, her head falling back further as her knees began to shake.

“I got you.” He said softly, his mouth caressing her neck again “Go on baby, give it to me.” With a desperate groan she shuddered, her hand wrapping around his wrists as he felt her pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as she came, the trembles wracking her entire body. Frank held her steady until she took a deep breath, giving a soft sigh as she leaning back into him. She tilted her head round to look at him, a smile on her face, her cheeks tinged with pink underneath those gorgeous freckles and he smiled at her, giving her a soft kiss. Setting her clothes right for her, his hands skated over her bump once more and he kissed her shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yep.” she nodded, popping the P as she turned to face him, leaning up to kiss the underneath of his jaw. He looked down at her, before a wicked smirk crossed his face and he popped his two fingers in his mouth, sucking her taste off him.

“Francis!” She scoffed, slapping him round the back of the head and he let out a loud laugh.

“You don’t complain about me tasting you when I’m down there…” “You’re so vulgar!” she snorted.

“Says the woman who just blew me in the kitchen.” She cocked her head to one side, shrugging slightly “Touché….”

He smiled again before she turned to the fridge “Want another beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

She pulled open the fridge door and let out a little shriek of delight “Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes widening as she pulled out a bottle of Appletize. “I couldn’t find any in the supermarket!”

“The Mini-Mart before.” he said, “Woman thought I was high when I bought 4 bags of fries and 4 big bottles of that”

“My hero!” she grinned

Frank grinned “if fetching you fries and Appetize means you get on your knees for me then hell, I’ll go every fucking night.”

“Don’t get used to it Sailor.” she looked at him, “Soon I'll be too big to kneel down.”

Frank chuckled, “Why don’t you go wait in the lounge?”

"I'm good.” Fliss shrugged “I'll help."

The two of them stood in the kitchen making their food. Frank warmed the chili through as Fliss grated the entire block of cheese and when Frank challenged her as to why exactly they needed that for 2 of them she simply replied “3 of us Frankie…” whilst patting her bump. Soon they were sat on the sofa, Fliss cross legged with a plate on her lap as she devoured her snack. Frank watched her as she eagerly ate, eyes fixed on the latest episode of Rick And Morty, every so often she would chuckle at something on the screen. Frank smiled to himself, it had felt like a long 5 days since Monday, but they seemed to be on an even keel. She was joking and laughing with him, had been reasonably affectionate and to be fair her affections certainly had upped a notch when she just sucked him off in the kitchen. Granted, all things considered, he’d rather have carried her to bed, taken his time over her, loved on her a little but…well, he certainly wasn’t complaining. It seemed like she’d finally decided he was completely out of the dog house, which suited him absolutely fine.

Fliss let out a happy sigh and placed her now empty plate on the coffee table on top of the one Frank had discarded a few minutes ago. She stretched out her limbs before she shifted and snuggled into Frank’s side.

"Love you." She said, her hand rubbing his tummy softly under his t-shirt. "So does Bean"

Her touch and words made him feel all warm inside. Not horny warm, just fuzzy warm. Smiling he dropped a kiss to her head “Love you too, both of you.”

****** “What do you think?” Fliss asked, giving him a twirl. Frank smiled, nodding approvingly. With the help of the assistant in the little independent Mother and Baby boutique shop they’d stumbled across, aptly called “Bump In The Road” she’d chosen a maxi dress with a pastel rainbow tulle style skirt. The top half was baby pink with spaghetti straps which hung on her toned shoulders and It had a V-neckline which plunged to the high waistband where it cinched in and then flared over her bump. It hung loosely and comfortably over her lower body whilst still being sexy enough on the top half, accentuating her cleavage.

“You look beautiful.” He said honestly and she flushed a little, twirling in the mirror.

“Do you think the colour is ok or should I go for the yellow one? I mean is it too much boob? The yellow is a halter neck so you don’t see any-” “Lissy!” He shook his head, chuckling “It looks fine, more than fine. I like it.” “It’s also elasticated at the back.” The assistant spoke. “So your worry about bump growing more over the next week won’t cause an issue. You’ll get a few months I expect out of this.” Fliss hummed, looked at her reflection again before she smiled “OK, yeah, great…I’ll take it.”

The assistant smiled and Fliss turned back to head into the changing cubicle. Once she was out of ear shot Frank looked at the woman.

“Can we take the yellow one too?” he asked, “Just ring it through before she comes back, I want it to be a surprise.”

The assistant nodded and smiled “Sure, I’ll get it ready and bagged now so she doesn’t see it.”

“Thanks.”

He headed to the till, producing his card and shortly after Fliss joined him and he let out a chuckle when he saw she’d also picked up another little baby-grow on the way. This one was white and bore an apple on the front, with the words “apple of our eye” arched over the top.

“I thought it was kinda fitting.” she grinned and Frank had to agree considering her craving. He handed it to the assistant who was smart enough not to announce the total to him, given the additional purchase as he handed his card over. Fliss pouted at him but one look and she stopped the fuss she was about to make over the fact he had paid. They’d already had that discussion on the way over, Frank insisting that he wanted to buy her the dress considering it was “his fault” as she had put it that she was in this position in the first place.

He took the bag from the assistant and thanking her once more they headed out and back down the street. Frank stole a glance at his watch, it was just after 3. He could do with killing another hour or so before he put into play his surprise plan so he suggested they grab a drink and an ice cream at the little parlour on the corner. Fliss eagerly agreed so that killed another 40 minutes as they sat and joked over a sundae each, before they headed back to the truck taking the long way round, checking out a few other shops as they went, Fliss suggesting the grabbed Mary a few new pieces of clothing as she was growing again. Picking a few t-shirts and a pair of shorts they knew she would like they then headed back to the car and Frank checked his phone, memorising the directions. They weren’t far away.

When he didn’t take the turn for the freeway, Fliss looked at him. “You missed the turn off.” “No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

“We’re not going home.” Frank replied simply and at that she frowned.

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

Refusing to give her anything else, despite her questioning, he kept driving until he hit the coastal road and continued along the bay and their destination appeared in front of them. Hanging a right, he drove his truck down the little winding road which opened up into a circle drive way flanked by palm trees and bright flowerbeds just outside the reception of the Grand Hyatt.

“Frank.” Fliss looked at him, her eyes shining. “We’re staying for the night?”

“Yup.” He nodded turning to face her. “I packed us a bag this morning whilst you were at the yard, Mary’s staying with your parents as is Thor and I suspect Fred and we have a dinner reservation for dinner at the Oyster Catcher, which is on the bay at the back.”

“I don’t…how did you manage to pull this off at such short notice?”

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

He hopped out of his truck and smiled to the bus boy who had approached him and nodded for them to collect their bags out of the boot. “Including the large paper one.” he said discreetly and he nodded before he turned to collect the slip of paper from the valet. He took Fliss’ hand and led her into the huge reception area to the hotel, the floor a gorgeous white marble as they walked over to the desk and he smiled at the woman who looked at him.

“Good afternoon Sir, Ma’am.” she smiled, and Fliss suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Everyone was milling around in various states of what she would term upper-class smart casual, in blazers and open necked dress shirts with jeans that probably cost more than her fucking jeep. Frank, however, in contrast didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t here to impress or blend in.

“Reservation for Adler.” he said smiling at the receptionist who tapped at a keyboard and nodded.

“Yes Mr Adler, you’re here for one night and have an executive double.” she scanned the booking “The room rate is already settled, but I can set up-…” “I’m sorry, did you say the room rate was covered?” Frank frowned. “Yes, Sir.” She nodded, “It’s already been paid.” “Take it that wasn’t expected.” Fliss looked at him and he shook his head, smiling.

“No, no it wasn’t. I’ll thank Jake later.” He smiled, before he turned to the lady at the desk “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem. I was just saying if you want to give me your card I can set up a tab so you can charge items to your room…” “Sure.” He nodded, fishing for his wallet before handing her the small square of plastic. As she took a scan of it he turned to Fliss and dropped a kiss to her temple as she smiled, her arm looping around her waist.

“Is this where we’re staying for Jake’s wedding?” She asked and he nodded.

“Thought we could give it a test run beforehand.” He looked at her “You are okay we’re staying, right?” “Of course.” She smiled “It’s really sweet of you.” “Well, I try.” He winked before he turned back to the brunette behind the desk who asked him for his signature in a few places before she handed him the key.

“Ok so you’re on the 5th floor.” she said nodding, “Room 512. Take the elevator up, go right once you reach your floor and you’ll see it on the left. I’ll have your bags brought up for you Mr Adler.”

Frank thanked her and they both headed off following the directions. Frank led Fliss out of the elevator an down to the room over to it and picked up the note attached to it.

“This one’s on me pal, well, my Loyalty Scheme Free Stay points anyway. Sorry about the balls.” She read as she turned to him and Frank rubbed at his neck. “I’m not even gonna ask what that means.” “Yeah, probably best.” He grinned, and then there was a knock at the door. Frank opened it and in walked the concierge with their luggage, setting it down for them before Frank thanked him, slipped him a ten and he headed out.

Fliss looked at the overnight bag and then frowned. “What did you bring me to wear to dinner?” “Nothing” Frank said, before he grinned and picked up the bag from the boutique. “But I got you something before.” “That’s for the wedding.” She looked at him, “Although I could wear it twice. Not like anyone is here tonight to see it.” “Check in the bottom.” He instructed. She frowned a little, before she took the bag and set it down on the small table, before she let out a gasp as she pulled out the lemon yellow dress she’d tried on before.

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of this.” She whispered, her eyes misting over.

“I know but I wanted to.” He stepped forwards his hands dropping to her hips. “I figured it would be nice for us to have some time together, just the two…well…three,” he grinned, nodding to her bump, “of us.” “Thank you.” She looked up at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

Once they’d unpacked their overnight thing, Fliss headed for a shower and emerged a little while later in a robe and Frank walked back in from where he’d been on the balcony with a beer, having fired a thank you message to Jake. He smiled at Fliss and headed to shower himself, coming back about five minutes later also wrapped in a robe. They sat out together on the balcony talking for a little while as Fliss pretty much drank the entire bottle of juice before she announced she was going to get ready.

“You look gorgeous.” Frank said as she stood in front of him, wearing her dress. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her make-up was light, despite the fact that Frank had shoved pretty much every item in her vanity case into their bag not knowing what she would want and wouldn’t want.

“You look pretty dapper too, Sailor” she smiled, taking in his black button down and smart jeans. Dropping a kiss to her cheek he gestured to the door and they both left the room and made their way to the restaurant which was located through the back of the hotel. They were led through to the outside patio which had a spectacular panoramic view of Old Tampa Bay. Fliss ordered herself a mock-tail, whilst Frank asked for a beer, grinning when the waiter told them they had Stella on tap.  Fliss busied herself with the menu, and Frank took a moment to watch her. She really was glowing. He’d thought that was such a shit cliché about pregnant women, but at that point in time he couldn’t think of any other way to describe her. Her face was slightly fuller now, but with it she carried a soft look, which just complimented her personality anymore. The changes her entire body was going through reminded him daily she was carrying his baby, and each day he woke up and was convinced he was slightly more in love with her than he had been when he’d fallen asleep, even though he knew that wasn’t actually possible.

“The mahi-mahi looks really good.” Fliss mused as she looked at the menu. “As does the lobster but not sure I can eat that.” “Well, actually…” Frank leaned forward and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I knew this was a seafood restaurant so Mary did her usual google and found this.”

He handed it to her and waited for her reaction. As she scanned the list of seafood that she could eat she shook her head and let out a little moan.

“So all this time I could have been eating prawns?!”

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

“Damned it!” She cursed “I’m going to kill my mum.” “Well I don’t doubt guidelines have changed a little over the years” 

Before she could reply the waiter came back to take them to their table which was on the large veranda at bay level. He left them alone for another ten minutes before returning for their order. Frank raised his eyebrow as Fliss ordered the fishcakes to start and then the Lobster tail for main, not that he cared how much it cost, he wasn’t worrying about that tonight. With that in mind he went for the same starter but then the surf-and-turf option, with a fillet steak.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” Fliss said, reaching out over the table, her hand tangling in his. “Just had a meal out, the two of us.”

“Me neither.” He mused. “It was before Christmas I know that much.”

“Probably before Boston actually.”

“We should do it more often” He smiled, his thumb skating over her engagement ring.“I like spending time with you like this.”

“Me too. And don’t worry Sailor. Once Bean is here you’re taking me out for an evening of fine dining where I’m gonna eat my bodyweight in blue cheese and drink a swimming pool full of wine…or champagne…or maybe both.” He chuckled and nodded “Whatever you want honey.”

Their conversation turned to their house hunting, both agreeing that they really needed to step it up a notch. They hadn’t even made an appointment with a bank yet to find out what they biggest budget they had was, so that was first on the agenda, Frank saying he would call to make an apartment on Monday. And then when their starters arrived they switched to the biggest question of all at the moment, whether they were going to find out if Bean was pink or blue.

“I think I wanna know.” Fliss said, swallowing the last of her starter, giving Frank a smile

Frank looked at her, his head cocking to one side. “You wanna find out?”

Fliss smiled shyly and paused as the waiter came along to remove their now empty plates before she continued once he had left.  “I wasn’t sure…but…yeah, I think I am now. It struck me before in that shop, that once we know how much easier it will be, buying blue or pink stuff instead of yellows or greys.”

“I dunno, I quite like the yellow item we bought.” He quipped, taking a mouthful of his beer as he nodded to her dress. She grinned.

“You know full well what I mean.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I do.” He leaned forward a little, both arms resting on the table as he looked at her, “Ok, so that’s decided then…we find out?”

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment and he blinked, a soft mile spreading across his face. “I can’t wait.” he admitted to her, almost bashfully and she smiled back.

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

“Frankie, that was such wonderful evening.” Fliss turned to look at him as she kicked off her sandals whilst he locked the hotel room door behind them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart.” He said gently, pulling her to him as his hands wrapped around her back.

“It was really thoughtful” She whispered, as her hands slid up his chest. “You didn’t have to do it though you know, I mean as an apology, I’m not-“ “No no, it wasn’t that.” He shook his head, “I just wanted some time with you, that’s all. I do have my sentimental moments when I’m not being a complete jack ass.” he quipped and she looked at him, her face soft.

“You’re my jack ass.” She smiled as her arms looped around his neck.

“Always.” He returned her smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Can you help me out of this dress?” She whispered into his mouth, and fuck, he didn’t need asking twice.

Frank reached round to the zipper at the back and gently slid it down as Fliss moved back, allowing the lemon coloured fabric to pool at her feet. He followed the line of her body upwards, over her thighs, that neat little bump, up past her hips, her breasts before he finally met her eyes again. He looked at her for a second before his lips crashed to hers, noses bumping slightly as he flicked his tongue teasingly into her mouth, his hands cupping her face as hers fisted in the back of his shirt.

In a quick movement, Frank reached down and hooked his hands round the back of her thighs, easily picking her up, bump and all. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently on it.  He shucked off his own shoes as he reached behind his head and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, yanking it over his head without even bothering with the buttons, before he dropped down on the bed, settling his hips in between her legs in the space she made for him as she ran her hands through his hair. He smiled softly at her before he pressed his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, his large hands keeping him propped above her so as not to put any of his weight against that precious cargo she was carrying.

She pushed on his chest, sitting up slightly as she reached behind her to undo her bran and Frank leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on each shoulder as he slid the straps down over her arms, removing it completely. As she lay back against the bed, Frank shifted so he was led on his side by her, his mouth hungrily covering hers as his hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, to her hip, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards as he shifted, hovering over her. He buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips began to move, rolling against nothing, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. Moving back to shed the rest of his clothes, he stood up, undoing his jeans and kicking them off, all the time his eyes on Fliss’ as she watched him, her gaze travelling down his body to where his cock now stood angry and red against his abs. He leaned down, hooking his fingers in the lace of Fliss’ panties, pulling them down over her legs before he settled on the bed once more, Fliss moving so she could straddle him. As she did so, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him as she reached down between them, taking him in her hand. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in, slowly sliding down onto him. A filthy moan flew from her mouth which he swallowed with his kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to move, rolling her hips forward. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

The sight of her on top, illuminated by soft light streaming in through the slight gap in the curtains was almost enough to tip him right over there and then. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Frankie…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there again before he lost it. As he felt the coil in his own belly tightening, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, would always be the single most exquisite thing Frank had ever seen, no matter how many times he got to see it. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even, more made him lose himself. 

“Fuck, Lissy…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure washing over him as the world fell silent and he could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. Fliss collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting as they came back down, turning back into the world. Frank held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

“God, I love you.” he whispered, pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers.

"I love you too.”

Frank moved so that she could roll off him and to the side, before he pulled the covers back, allowing them both to shuffle under before he turned off the lamp at the side of the bed. Fliss moved so that her head lay on his chest, her arm resting over his stomach and he placed a soft kiss to the side of her temple, his hand moving to softly card through her hair. For the first time in a week, Frank felt like things were completely back to where they should be.

***** They had a lazy morning in the hotel, making the most of the breakfast before they headed back to collect Mary. The drive home was relaxed, the pair of them singing along to whatever came on Frank’s Spotify play-list, Fliss snorting with laughter when the Spice Girls Wannabe hit her ears.

“Hey, it’s a classic.” Frank defended himself as she looked at him, shaking her head.

“Sure it is.” She laughed, cranking the volume up.

When they reached Verity and Bills, Thor came bounding up the drive to greet the truck, running after it and almost sending Fliss flying as he barrelled into her legs. Frank caught her, steadying her as he shot the dog an exasperated look. Whilst he wasn’t growling at Frank anymore, the dog was ridiculously clingy to Fliss, more so than usual and had clearly been unhappy at being away from her. They headed round to the pool area, where Mary was busy wrestling with Steve in the pool, swinging on his arm, trying to pull him under the water. She hardly spared them a second glance as they greeted her, until Verity called her out for a drink and a slice of lemon cake.

“Sit down, sit down!” she ushered Fliss and Frank to the outside table on the decking, where Frank moved a chair back for Fliss, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Steve and Mary padded over later, Mary wrapped herself in a towel whilst Steve moved over to give Fliss a hug, causing her to squeal as he was wet. Mary hopped onto Frank’s knee and gave his cheek a peck.

Bill appeared a little while later, smiling at them all as he took a seat at the table, an envelope in his hands. He paid it no attention though, simply setting it on the table. They talked for a little while, Fliss telling them all about their hotel and meal before the conversation turned to chatter of house hunting, at which point Verity and Bill shared a glance and Bill cleared his throat

“We wanted to talk to you about that.” Bill said, looking at Fliss.

“Okay.” Fliss frowned, glancing at Frank where he sat to her right. She turned back to her parents. “Is something wrong?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Verity smiled as she glanced at Bill. Both of them looked at Steve then who smiled as Mary looked around.

“Is this one of those adult conversations?” she rolled her eyes and Frank nudged her slightly. Bill chuckled.

“It is kiddo, but you can stay.” he said, before he took a deep breath and leaned forward a little “Ok, so you know I handed the business down to Steve when we left England.” “Yeah…” Fliss looked at him.

“Well, when I did that it was valued at just over 2 million pounds” he said and Frank felt his eyebrows shoot up into his head. He knew that Bill and Verity were affluent, but he hadn’t appreciated just how much.

“I know all this.” Fliss frowned. “I’m not following…” “Well, the deal was that I took a million out of the pot straight away, for me and your mum to retire on.” Bill said, “That didn’t leave a great deal of cash left in the accounts,  just enough to keep the cash-flow straight, the rest was tied up in the assets. But the other part of the deal was that whilst I was giving it to Steve, half of it was yours…and as soon as he was able to…he had to give you your share of the remaining value.” Fliss felt her mouth drop open as she wheeled around to look at Frank. “What…I…” “I never told you any of this, because I didn’t want that bastard getting wind of it.” Bill shook his head. “And obviously, we gave you what we could to set up your business and everything when you moved here…but…” “Basically, Titch, the last year or so the profits have sky rocketed.” Steve said. “And…as a result.”

Bill slid the envelope he had brought towards Fliss and she reached out for it with a shaky hand. Opening it gently, she pulled out a cheque and glanced down at the amount. Just short of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Fuck me.” she mumbled, as she handed the paper to Frank who took a deep breath, gulping as he saw the amount.

“Holy shit…” Mary mumbled as she too read it, but no one payed her the slightest bit of attention, as Fliss broke the stunned silence that had fallen over her and Frank.

“Dad, Mum, I…” she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “I can’t…” “So, you don’t need to fanny around with a mortgage or a bank loan when you find a house.” Bill smiled at her. “You’ve got enough to buy outright.”

“Bill, Verity, this…this is too much.” Frank looked at them both in turn, the tears stinging his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Verity scoffed “It’s Fliss’ inheritance.”

“I’ll sign a pre-nup.” He stuttered suddenly, “Anything, I…”

Fliss frowned as did Bill, and she turned her eyes to him “Why would I want you to do that?”

“That’s your money.” He protested. “Yeah, and I’m sharing my life with you. Hell, I’m having your baby Frank.” She said gently “I don’t need a pre-nup. You intending on leaving me?” “No of course not.” “Well then.” She shrugged, simply, as if that settled the matter. And in her eyes it did.

“You’ll also still retain your shares.” Steve said gently, “Which means you’ll get the dividends each year and if things keep going the way they are, you might want to consider buying a few more sharpish. They’ll be worth a lot if we land this contract.”

Fliss nodded, taking the information in before she stood up and headed over to her dad who rose from his chair.

“Thank you…thank you so much.” she said, her tears falling as he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back.

“You’re my little girl.” Bill said, his voice choked “I’ll always see you right, you know this.”

She stepped back and turned to her mum as Frank shook Bill’s hand before the man pulled him into a hug.

“Just look after her.” he whispered in Frank’s ear. “I know I don’t need to say it but…”

“You have my word.” Frank pulled back and looked his future father-in-law in the eyes. “I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.”

“Does this mean we can get a house with a pool?” Mary piped up, from where she was now situated in Steve’s arms.

Frank looked at Fliss before they both grinned and he turned to her.

“Not sure.” he said “Don’t want you getting all spoilt now do we?”

“Fine…” she shrugged “I’ll just move in here. That’s ok isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Verity grinned “Although you do know if you do, its bed at 8 every night, no treats before dinner, no…” “Who are you trying to kid?” Mary scoffed “Frank says you’re both a pair of right soft touches.”

Frank groaned as the room erupted into laughter and he shook his head at Mary who stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Mary simply shrugged and Fliss slid her arms round Frank’s waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“So, house hunting starts tomorrow?” he asked, and she grinned nodding.

“You bet Sailor…”

“Ohhh we could buy a boat!” Mary said suddenly, and Frank paused.

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

“Yeah, I’ll buy you a remote control one to play with in the pool” Fliss grinned and Bill laughed as Mary let out a loud yell.

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for god’s sake…”

“Ok…Bean wants a pool” Mary grinned and everyone in the room let out a loud laugh, as Fliss looked up at Frank who simply snorted and shook his head.

**** Chapter 6

[in-tua-deep]

tua s1 rewatch - end

Less bc I am tired

Episode 8

I still have no idea how old Claire is supposed to be

Honestly Patrick was like... the first person who enforced boundaries and enacted consequences on Allison tbh and she didn’t even hesitate to use her powers even though they’d clearly discussed it before

I heard a rUMOR YOU LIKE BROCOLI?? WHICH SIBLING DID SHE USE THAT ON?

Roommate making the realization face about Leonard’s new prosthetic eye

Vanya our here like “my teen bullshit actually has a body count” a la heathers

Klaus not remembering his first is depressing but given by the fact that luther seemed surprised a girl was in his bed and had to check if he was naked indicates that,,, luther doesn’t remember his first either

Five knows EXACTLY where the aspirin in... buddy tell me you are taking stronger pain meds when you are getting shot and knifed

Pogo out here like “it was a difficult choice for both of us” like grace had a choice at all considering her programming was literally altered

I agree with luther tbh “there’s always a choice” damn

Tag yourself I’m five with his head in his hands with probably a killer headache

Leonard: it’s not your fault what happened to those guys

Roommate: yeah dude I’m pretty sure it’s yours

I love Agnes bless

The Netflix subtitles spell oof as ouf and idk what to do with that

Roommate theorizes that tua takes place in New York with the evidence that the cop dude says that Diego is being transferred up state and New Yorkers say that

Babie Vanya looks like kids I know tbh

Leonard keeps looking more unhinged and awful the longer I look at him tbh

Vanya gives Reginald one (1) tiny scratch and he decides to drug her and emotionally abuse her for the rest of her life :/

Five limping into the bar: CONTINUITY

Luther really said “hmm think I will launch into a depressive episode”

Maybe cha cha should take a nap and then maybe she’d calm down instead of bloWING UP GRIDDYS I forgot she did that

Sergeant cheDDAR I forgot his name was fucking CHEDDAR - all I can think about is the dog from b99

Vanya blease your boyfriend is a serial killer

Okay Leonard was definitively and canonically thirteen for the murder of his father

Vanya out here with her chemicals being WACK bc of cold turkey quitting her whole ass meds designed to numb her emotions like ouch

But also Allison is this the right time to tell ur sister that you were used to erase every shred of self confidence she ever had and also make you forget her cool ass powers

Vanya be like “look me in the eye and tell me you’re not threatened now” like yeAH VANYA YOURE BEING PRETTY DAMN THREATENING RIGHT NOW

Episode nine (I think?? I didn’t realize where the episodes switched over)

Leonard has directly killed at least three people so far but one (his dad) definitely deserved it and indirectly killed at least two more

She doesn’t even really get scOLDED FOR KILLING THE NANNIES JUST HER NAME IN A FIRM TONE NO FUCKING WONDER SHE KEPT ON KILLING

Huh does that mean vanyas body count is higher than Leonard’s?? There were at least three dead nannies and she killed those two dudes as well 🤔

Five doesn’t even bother insisting on volunteering bc he is thirteen and has also already lost a lot of blood I mean seriously

The whole making klaus get up by throwing a knife at him... sibling moon although Diego has a lot better aim than MY sister who always managed to hit me in the face with anything she threw at me :/

Leonard is poking the bear here and I really don’t know what he expected when vanya straight up kills him

“I really don’t know what he expected to get out of that.” -roommate

Aannnndddd check for five again on the “klaus heart to heart” list with that addiction discussion

Five is SO BEYOND giving a fuck by the time hazel shows up and five offers him a margherita ... he can’t even be bothered to get up and interfere with Diego and hazel

Though to be fair five does have a GUT WOUND so smashing a bowl over their heads is valid

Roommate: more scripts need to have hugs in them

Me: ...not this one

Roommate: w,, why. Why. You find out your sister has powers and instead of being a reasonable person you choke her

I’m blaming pogo for this as well because luther wouldn’t have known about the basement soundproof vault that luther put her in :/

Like pogo painted the WORST picture and told them about the people she killed and everything which informed luthers decision to lock her up which,, Vanya was a little kid with no real concept of death

“Maybe while he’s here he can pick up something new to wear” - roommate while five dropped Dolores off at the department store

Luther isn’t guarding Vanyas cell 24/7,,, the others could have done something or like?? At least stayed down there with her? So she isn’t horrifyingly alone thinking she’s been left to die?

Episode ten

I erased reginalds weird alien origins from my mind honestly because... I just don’t care about him. Like. At all? Fuck this man I wish he didn’t exist in s2 :/

The mansion really do be a walking house of triggers for Vanya huh

“I’m going to posit something. Pogo has no culpability as a being of his own free will, he’s just a second hargreeves. He’s just a second pair of hands to what hargreeves intended. He’s just a walking mouthpiece.” - roommate but that’s okay because I hate Reginald more than I hate pogo actually

I’m okay with pogo dying tbh and even the roommate isn’t exactly torn up about it

Goodbye mansion

Me, remembering this is the last episode: it’s been 84 years...

Five coming in late to find the academy in rubble like :0

Wow I still really hate the handler speaking Yiddish and the unfortunate implications that it has, just in general

“I have to respect she went home to change into formal wear and apply eye liner before ending the world” - roommate on Vanyas concert outfit

I’m amused by the bowling and the shoes but sad about the content :(

Five this is what you get from accepting candy from creepy women honestly

He just DITCHES

Why is Allison even salty at luther for sleeping with a girl. She MARRIED a man and had a child and Luther wasn’t salty I don’t think?

I feel like the handler could have kept five there for way longer before he caught on tbh

Agnes has had... a day

Luther and Diego are DUMBASSES

Ben taking care of BUSINESS

Roommate has questions about when exactly Vanya was photographed to put into the promotional material for the concert and honestly?? Now I do as well especially since they established Vanyas suit was at her apartment

“IS THAT A SUPER POWER INDUCED COSTUME CHANGE? Ya love to see it” roommate on Vanyas white outfit

Five really didn’t need to jump and also like BRO HE HAS A SHRAPNEL WOUND

Oh we can’t let Allison do any heavy lifting bc of her throat

Five has a GUT WOUND

As someone who had appendicitis and had to get that shit our gut surgery fucking sucks I couldn’t do shit for like a week and a half

Sibling energy is immediately rejecting fives plan then being like “okay what is it”

Their fucking bowling shoes I’m still yelling about it

THE END

and a picture of my cat bc i accidentally put it in here so enjoy a mia

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 7-10

This is the “Dead Zone” arc, featuring Luke and Jan Valentine.

This arc is set around... uh, September 3rd-ish, I think.   By now, Hellsing has had time to investigate this recent uptick in vampire incidents, and she calls a meeting of the “Convention of Twelve” to discuss her findings.   This group represents the heads of various important agencies, political leaders, and noblemen, and the manga states that they “essentially” run the British Empire.    I’m not sure how to read that, exactly.  Kouta Hirano appears to be establishing one of two things:

1) Parliament Shmarliament, everything is really controlled by this secret group of oligarchs sitting at a table.

or

2) This is a collection of all the big wheels in British society, so they might as well be calling the shots even if they aren’t a true governing body. 

I’m not terribly concerned about which one it is, since we left real-world Great Britain behind a long time ago.    The Hellsing U.K. seems to put a lot more power in the monarchy, for example.    Also there’s friggin’ draulas runnin’ around everwhere. 

Anyway, Integra reveals that the vampires they’ve been killing lately all have microchips installed in their bodies.  She says the chips “define the vampire’s status, behavior, intent, and aggression.”   I don’t know if that means outright control or a more subtle manipulation.    It might exaplain why the couple in Chapter 3 weren’t exactly being subtle.

Moreover, these vampires haven’t been following the conventional rules laid down back in Chapter 1.   Vampire bites can turn a person into another vampire, but only if the victim is a virgin.   Otherwise, they turn into ghouls.   Destroying the head vampire will destroy all the ghouls he’s created.    But that hasn’t been happening.    The couple in Chapter 3 killed a lot of children, but they all became ghouls.   And in Badrick, Anderson killed the vampire, but the ghouls remained active long enough for Alucard and Seras to fight them.  

At least, that’s what Integra is saying.   We never actually saw any ghouls in Chapter 3, and Anderson killed the vampire in Badrick off-panel, so we don’t know the exact timing.    But I’ll take Integra’s word for it.   

Something that got lost along the way was the matter of what happens to Seras if someone managed to kill Alucard.   According to Chapter 1, she’d die immediately, but we never actually see that play out, and Seras is the only vampire created by another vampire in this story.   We never see ghouls die en masse, either, because there’s never a situation where their master dies first, and the ghouls we see from here on out are these rule-breaking microchippy kind anyway.    

Never mind that shit, here comes the Seras part.   Walter has replaced her bed with a coffin.    Apparently she had a bed in this dank-ass dungeon, and then one day Integra got a wild hair and decided “Oh, yeah, she should be sleeping in a vampire bed.”     She’s been a vampire for like two months now.    I feel bad for Walter, having to lug that big-ass bed down here, only to have to take the damn thing right back out.   He must have known it was going to end this way.   You’d think he would have said something before.  

Seras hates this idea, but Walter relays a second order, one from Alucard: Seras has to sleep in the coffin.   Well, that seems kind of redundant, but I guess Seras might have tried to sleep on the floor or something instead.    The main thing I find interesting about this is that Seras is mostly irritated by Integra ordering the coffin, but she takes it much more seriously when Alucard is mentioned.  

According to Walter, since Seras hasn’t drunk any blood, her powers will weaken... unless she sleeps in a coffin lined with soil from her birthplace.   So maybe it’s an either/or deal.   Integra was fine with Seras using a big girl bed because she assumed Seras would be drinking blood.  But without it, she has to use a coffin, or she’ll be no good to the team.   And after two months, it’s become clear that Seras has no intention of drinking blood, even bags of donated blood, like the one Alucard snacked on in Badrick.

Even Seras doesn’t know exactly why she won’t do it, which Alucard finds baffling.    If this was a dealbreaker for her, she should have just died as a human in Cheddar.  

But Al isn’t entirely unsympathetic either.    His words are harsh, but they’re the truth: Seras is a vampire now, and there’s no going back.  She keeps trying to resist this, but it’s already happened.   Denial will only make this more painful for her.   I think that’s part of the reason he offered his own blood to her in Badrick.   I mean, there weren’t a lot of other options, but from an ethical standpoint, drinking Alucard’s blood seems reasonable, since it won’t kill him.    The unspoken sentiment here is: Listen, I know this is difficult for you, and I’ll try to make this as easy as possible, but you need to do this and there’s no way around it.    But even that doesn’t seem to work, and Alucard’s in no particular hurry, so he’s willing to table the matter.   Which I suppose is how the coffin thing came about in the first place.

Walter also takes this moment to give the vampires their new guns.    Alucard wanted something special for the next time he tangles with Alexander Anderson.    Recall that Al already has a special cosmogun with an infinite supply of magic bullets, and he shot Anderson in the face and it didn’t stop him.    So Walter builds him “The Jackal”, which is basically the same as his first gun, only even bigger and with a black finish.   It also says “Jesus Christ is in Heaven Now”, which drives me nuts because I don’t know if that’s like a message to Anderson, or just some random thing.    Kouta Hirano puts these nonsense religious slogans all over Hellsing, and I’m pretty sure he’s just doing it for effect, and not particularly concerned over whether there’s any religious significance to the words.   

As for Seras, she gets a giant bazooka-looking think called the Harkonnen, named after a Dune character.   One of these days I want to sit down and read Dune.   I kind of feel guilty that I haven’t already, because then I could be writing this and get all excited for this moment.   “HOLY SHIT!! IS THAT MOTHERFUCKING DUNE REFERENCE?!”  Instead I’m like, ho-hum, yes it is.

Let’s move on.    This arc is about the Valentine Brothers, two vampires who take the fight to Hellsing instead.   They have a small army of ghouls, and their plan is to just drive up in a tour bus and storm the gate.   Ghouls are mindless, zombie-like monsters, but apparently they can work a gun well enough, and Hellsing never imagined an enemy would try such a thing.

As soon as Integra finds out about this, she tries to evacuate the Twelve, but their helicopter gets destroyed, cutting off any chance of escape.   Then Jan (pronounced “Yon” by the way), calls her on the comm system and threatens to kill them all.  

So Integra calls Walter, who already knows what’s happening.   Um, how?   I feel like the anime explained this better.   Maybe Jan’s profanity-laden threats were on a public-address system instead of just for the conference room.   But it sure looks like Walter’s just chilling out in a windowless, underground room.   But he already knows there’s no hope of reinforcements arriving to save them.   He proposes himself and Seras using the ventilation shafts to get to the coference room, where they can defend the twelve, while Alucard can go on the offensive.

Alucard is amused to hear that Walter is going back into action, and calls him “Angel of Death”.    We’ll come back to that.

So Walter’s pretty much on top of things here.    No one ever considered anything like this happening before.    Hellsing is supposed to be a secret organization, so a vampire shouldn’t know to come here in the first place.    Moreover, no one dreamed that a vampire would plan it out so well, using ghouls in a military fashion.     But he’s optimistic about their chances for survival, because...

Walter has super powers.    Specifically, he has these magic wires he can use to bind and slice up his enemies, and this makes short work of the Valentines’ ghouls.   He then repeats Jan’s taunts back at him.   Okay, so I guess Walter did hear Jan’s message from earlier. 

The problem I always had with this development was that it seemed awfully convenient for Walter to have super powers.    But then, it took me a while to catch on to Anderson having super powers, and he took a bullet to the face.    I think the conceit of the Hellsing world is that these “anti-freak” organizations have to have super-powered operatives, so they use secret techniques and alchemy or whatever to empower men like Walter and Anderson.   It’s really not that hard to swallow.

Except that the first vampire-hunter we meet in Hellsing is Alucard, who is himself a vampire. So it seemed like the whole point was that he was the best suited for the job because he had the raw power to do it.   Integra doesn’t seem to have any powers, and neither do any of the rank-and-file Hellsing operatives who get mowed down by the Valentines’ ghouls.   So it always confused me for Walter to just go “Wassup, I have powers too.”   But it only makes sense for Hellsing to have more than one card to play.    Clearly, Walter used to hunt vampires on  the regular before he retired to become a butler.

Between Walter’s wires and Seras’ giant gun, they manage to subdue Jan easily enough, but he reveals he has a partner, Luke, whose job is to tackle the second half of their mission: to destroy Alucard.   Let’s check in on him...

Yeah.    I was thinking about doing a blow-by-blow of this fight, but it’s kind of pointless.    Luke talks a big game, and seems confident that he’s on a higher level than the vampires Alucard has been fighting recently, and for a hot minute, even Alucard believes that he might be a worthy adversary, “above even a ‘Category A’ vampire,” so he releases his “control art restriction,” to “Level 1″.  

I guess I should back up and explain this.    Alucard, like all overpowered anime characters, can hold back his full power and reveal it in stages.   For some reason he has to announce that he’s doing this, like Windows 10 describing it’s own updating.   Presumably, there’s a Level 4 where he usually operates, and that was enough for him to fight Luke evenly.    But here, we see him jump all the way to Level 1, which allows him to turn into some shadowy form with lots of eyes and two dog heads.  

Also, centipedes.  The point is, this is all stuff Luke can’t do.   He’s more of a “super speed gun-shooting” kind of vampire, so he’s immediately outclassed.    Alucard’s dog form eats Luke and that’s the end of him.... OR IS IT? 

Meanwhile, Jan’s ghoul army is beaten, but he still has reinforcements in the form of all the Hellsing soldiers they killed earlier.   These men rise up as new ghouls and chase down Seras while Jan makes a break for the conference room where the Twelve are holed up.    Walter tries to catch Jan, but only manages to rip off one of his arms.   He makes it to the door, only to find...

Integra and the others all have guns, and they shoot him down.  

All Jan has left now is his second wave of ghouls, except Seras manages to overwhelm them.   At first, she was panicking, but then she freaks out and goes feral on them, to the point where Integra has to jump in and order her to stop.   When she does, she seems to have no idea what just happened.    This is mostly overshadowed by the sheer horror of Hellsing’s soldiers being reduced to the undead.  

All that’s left is Jan, who refuses to talk.    He has the same microchip implants as the previous vampires, and the people who sent him are monitoring him in real-time, which means they know he failed, and they can make him self-destruct before he can tell Hellsing anything.  As he dies, Jan flips them all off and gives them one word of information: “Millennium.”

After that, Integra tasks Walter with destroying the remaining Hellsing ghouls, until Sir Irons, one of the Twelve reminds Integra that this is the duty of a commander.   As Hellsing’s C.O., it’s her responsibility, so she agrees and starts shooting the ghouls in the head.   

Meanwhile, Jan’s mysterious overseers talk amongst themselves, and their leader calls for them to resume their “research”.   As devastating as this attack on Hellsing was, for Millennium, this was merely a test.   

[thiswasinevitableid]

68 from the winter prompt list seems Very sternclay and I would love to see your take on it, nsfw if it fits would be great too, thank you!!!

Here you go, it is indeed NSFW!

68. you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day

Stern tries to avoid being rude in public, or in general, really. But right now he’s wondering if he can get away with shoving his face into this soup bowl and licking out the bottom. The food at Amnesty Lodge has always been stellar, but lately the soups are the highlight of his day.

Reluctantly, he leaves the last delicious dregs at the bottom of the blue ceramic bow and heads to the counter to pay his bill.

“How was everything?” Dani rings him up with a smile. 

“Incredible. I swear, Barclay out does himself every time I come.”

“Great! I’ll tell him you said so. I know he loves getting feedback on new recipes.”

-------------------------

“You did not say that.” Barclay drags the rag down the counter top. 

“Okay, so I didn’t add ‘especially from guys who he thinks are hot,’you got me.” She smirks as she clocks out. 

“It’s not my fault he’s so cute when he gets excited about food.”

“Barclay, just ask him out already.”

“But he’s a customer!”

“Who you also see once a week at game night at Duck’s. He’s for sure in friend territory at this point.”

“She’s got a point. Besides, sometimes flirting with customers ends well.” Aubrey leans against the kitchen door, twirling her car keys and winking at her girlfriend, “right, honey?”

“Absolutely, firebug.” Dani loops her arm around Aubrey’s waist, then levels Barclay with the look that routinely makes people mistake her for his little sister, “ask him out, or I am going to leave your number on his check the next time he comes in.”

“Okay, okay” He holds up his hands, chuckling, “you win.”

He waves goodnight, finishes locking up once the two women are gone. Then he climbs the stairs home. Amnesty Lodge was a real lodge, once upon a time. But as the city grew and buildings were divided and repurposed, only the restaurant and the rooms above it, plus the small house next door, remained. Mama, the owner, lives in the house, and Barclay has the apartment. It’s nice; he has no commute, he can run up and change if he gauges his layers wrong, and he likes being able to hear the river running nearby and the traffic humming through his window. 

Maybe Joseph would like to come up here after closing some night for coffee? Or is that too forward? Would he be interested if it was forward, or if they took it slow? Would he be interested in Barclay at all? Does he just like him for his soup?

God, the soup. He never meant for it to become a thing. His usual menu had three or four soups of the day in rotation, but then Joseph ordered a bowl of the corn cheddar chowder to go with his club sandwich and ate it so joyfully that Barclay caught him licking his spoon. Which did nothing to quash his budding crush on the guy. So he started trying out new recipes just to see Joseph get excited, and now it seems like Joseph is coming in just for the soup, and the upshot is he may be stuck forever in a soup-loop because of the way Joseph’s eyes crinkle when he’s happy. 

He knows that Joseph agreeing to a date would make him happier than a fresh produce delivery. But he has no clue if he really stands a chance with a guy who’s always well-dressed and friendly, when he himself is an often quiet, scraggly looking cook. 

Well, if nothing else, he has to try. Dani is not a woman of empty threats. 

------------------------------------------------------

“How do you do it?” Joseph rests his chin in his hand, spoon sitting in his empty bowl. He’s at the counter seating, so he can see Barclay working at the grill. 

“Do what?”

“Come up with such good recipes. And don’t try to say it’s cookbooks; you said last week that you’ve come up with a lot of them on your own.”

“It’s, uh, it’s nothing special, just a lot of tinkering.” He gets an idea, one that flashes over him so hot and fast he’s afraid the stove caught fire. 

“Would, uh, would you like to help me out with the newest one? I get off in an hour since I was on the early shift today.”

“I’d love to! I have some errands to run downtown, so as much as I’d like to hang around for an hour and watch you show off, I’ll see you at seven.” He sets down the cash to cover the bill and a tip, winks, and heads out the door. Barclay really hopes he stays in the suit when he comes back.

“Uh, dude?”

“Yeah, Jake?”

“Toast’s on fire.”

“Fuck!”

-------------------------------------------------

Barclay finishes setting out his mise en place right as there’s a knock on the front door. He swings it open and finds Joseph waiting patiently, a grocery bag slung over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit; Barclay can just spot his black tie with little ufos on it peeking out of his winter coat. 

“Dani said I should just come on up.” He slips off his shoes, revealing socks with Bigfoot on them, “and I brought some wine, and a fancy beer I found at Jenny Street Market, since I wasn’t sure what kind of soup it is.”

“My take on a traditional Irish stew, so let's do the beer.” Barclay grabs two pint glasses and pours as Joseph finishes hanging up his coat and joins him in the kitchen. He’s down to his dress shirt and slacks, eagerly rolling up his sleeves before taking the glass. 

“Right, what do we do first?”

Barclay takes a prolonged sip to avoid blurting out his real answer, then starts explaining that they need to figure out the right ratio of vegetable to lamb and which spices work best in the stock. 

They talk as they work, Joseph sharing his theories on the plausible plot twists in this season of Agent X and Barclay teasing him whenever he gets going on a tangent about the monster of the week episodes. The easy back and forth, the warmth of the apartment as the air fills with spices and butter, the way the kitchen lights plays off Joseph’s face; it feels like a home, and his stomach twists whenever he remembers that the other man will leave in an hour or two. 

“Barclay, I have to ask; why the sudden zest for soup?” Joseph sets his glass down, still half full because they’re talking too much to drink more than a sip at a time. 

“Uhhh, just, uhh a good fit for a winter menu.” Barclay sets the lid onto the dutch oven; it’ll take at least forty-five minutes for this batch to thicken and develop flavor. When he hazards a glance at Joseph, the man is studying him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Is that all?”

He washes his hands to buy time to build up his courage, then sighs, “Nope. It started after the first time you ordered it. You just got so excited whenever I had a new soup of the day, and I liked making you feel that way, so I just kept finding or making new recipes I hoped you’d like. Heh” he rubs his wrist, anxious, “sounds hella weird when I say it out loud like that.”

Turning, he finds Joseph with his hands covering his mouth. 

“Fuck, sorry, probably shouldn’t have confessed that when we’re alone-”

“What? Oh, Barclay,” Joseph steps forward, taking his hands, “I’m not upset, I’m shocked. That’s, um, that’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s done for me, going to all that trouble, you didn’t have to.” The words are a bit stuttery and jumbled, Joseph going pinker after each one. 

“I wanted to. I’d make a whole new menu every day if it’d make you smile that way.”

His lower back bangs into the counter as Joseph crowds him, fingers digging into his hair so roughly that it starts coming loose from its tie. He tastes like beer and stock he kept sampling, and Barclay licks it up, pressing his tongue between his welcoming lips, desperate to bring them as close together as possible. 

Joseph pulls away, resting their foreheads together, as he undoes Barclay’s shirt with ruthless efficiency, “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

“The...doing nice things for you part?” He cups Joseph’s cheeks, trailing his thumbs over the hints of five o’ clock shadow. 

“You went to all that trouble, just for me.” Joseph drags his mouth up Barclay’s neck as he continues, “just to make me happy.”

“I mean, made me happy too.” He mumbles into black hair.

“I’m trying to compliment you, big guy.” Joseph nips his bottom lip. 

“Oh fuck.” He whimpers at the nickname, at the way the other man doesn’t hesitate to shove his hands up his now-bare chest, demanding and adoring, “guess all those jokes about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach are true.”

“While the food helps, there’s so much more about you that I like. For instance” he drags his hands down to Barclay’s stomach before palming his hardening cock through his jean, “you’re the most handsome man in town.”

He whimpers louder this time, Joseph keeping up the light pressure on his cock. 

“Bedroom?” It’s both an encouragement and a question, the ton letting Barclay know he’s welcome to continue but not obligated to.

“The, can’t, can’t leave the stove unattended.” He gropes Joseph’s ass through his slacks, kisses his neck as he tries to calculate if turning off the stew will mess up the recipe. 

“I love how responsible you are.” It’s another compliment, a dead serious one, “and I have an idea.” He steps back, hurries over to the grocery bag, and pulls out a small, rectangular box. 

“I couldn’t tell if this was a date, so I decided to be on the safe side.” He surveys the kitchen, “feel like picking a surface to bend me over?”

Barclay practically knocks a stack of cookbooks off the tiny kitchen table, dragging a laughing Joseph over to shove him across it. 

“This okay?” He pants as he covers the back of his neck with kisses. 

“Better than okay. Barclay please, I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and basically non-stop for the last two hours.”

“Fucking-A” He’s amazed there isn’t a cartoonish boi-oi-oing  when he gets his pants and boxers down, his cock--his whole being, really--aching for the chance to fuck the man in front of him. Getting Joseph’s pants down takes two tries, and opening the condom takes three because he’s shaking so hard from excitement. 

“Need a hand, big guy?” 

“Nope. Just need this.” 

“FUCKohfuck, shit” Joseph reaches forward, gripping the far edge of the table as Barclay sinks into him, “yes, need it too, need you so bad.”

“You got me babe” he loops one arm around Joseph’s hips, sets his free hand next to his on the table for balance, “and I got you.” He starts slow, relishing every little sound he gets in reply to his thrusts, kissing any exposed skin he can find, then rucking Joseph’s shirt up his back to find more. 

Joseph’s hand moves down towards his cock, but Barclay gently guides it back onto the table, “No need to babe. Like I said, I got you.” 

He doesn't mean to start railing him the instant after his fingers find his cock. It’s more that feeling him soaking and hard, all because of (and all for) him, the grateful moan he lets out at the contact, the way he grinds his hips back and forth, it sets off every part of Barclay’s brain at once, and all he wants to do is take him, make him cum, break the fucking table showing him how much he wants him. 

“Ohmylord” Joseph gasps, raising his head, “oh my fucking--Barclay yes, like that, lord you don;t disappoint.” His smile is ecstatic, more than the worlds clumsiest hand-job deserves, and Barclay forces his fingers to find their professional finesse, rub and stroke in the ways that make Joseph beg for more. 

He growls as he feels his orgasm building; not yet, no fucking way, he wants to feel Joseph cum around him. With Herculean effort, he stills his hips and focuses, growling again as Joseph tightens around him. When the man beneath him cums, the last of his restraint evaporates and he hammers into him, table scraping forward inch by inch in time with his grunts and Joseph’s weakening moans. 

His climax doubles him over, and he spills with a muffled moan, mouthing at Joseph’s shoulder through his shirt. 

Then his legs give, ten minutes of furious fucking after a ten hour shift enough for them to peace out. He lands with an “oof” on the floor, and Joseph is laughing again as he turns to stare down at him. 

“Are you okay down there?”

He gives a thumbs up, “Cute guy just shorted out all my circuits, no big.”

Joseph fixes his pants and shirt, joins him on the floor and pulls him into his arms, “I’d say it was very big.”

Barclay snickers, rests his head on his shoulder, “Walked into that one. Gimme sec, then I can make us some dinner. Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“We’re not having soup?”

Barclay kisses his cheek, “Nah, you can have that for dinner tomorrow at the Lodge.”

Joseph’s smile is full of delicious trouble, “How about for breakfast?”

He holds him close, smiling at him, “Babe, you got yourself a deal.”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On  Ch 5: Chilli Fries and Appletize

Summary: Fliss hormones are raging so Frank decides she need something a little special

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW NO UNDER 18s!!)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ALERT!! And PLEASE give the song a listen, this is one of my all time faves from one of the best ever band to come out of Manchester! Thank you to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for her brilliant little spark of an idea in here (you know which part Ambi!) and as always @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for being my unofficial Beta! Chapter Song: Ten Storey Love Song by The Stone Roses

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

Ten Storey love song, I built this thing for you. Who can take you higher, than twin deep mountain blue, oh well I’ve built this thing for you, and I love you true…

“Fuck!”

Frank heard Fliss’ shout from the living room where he was sprawled on the sofa. She’d gone to take a bath, Mary was at Roberta’s so the pair of them were simply taking a bit of time to relax after what had been a fairly busy week, both physically and mentally.

“Fliss?” he called back as Thor stood up from where he had been curled on the rug, Fred leaning against him using him as a pillow as the feline always seemed to do. He watched the dog pad to the door and then stood up following him down the hallway. He entered the bedroom and found Fliss was stood in a pale blue dress, tears in her eyes.

“Honey what’s wrong?” he frowned.

“This fucking dress!” she practically exploded, her voice cracking. I only bought it a few weeks ago for Jake’s wedding and I just thought I’d try it on with my new shoes and it won’t do up at the back.”

Frank looked at her, feeling a pang of sympathy for his girl. She’d been really up and down in particular over the last 2 days with her hormones and she looked absolutely distraught, even if it was something so ridiculous as a dress that had set her off.

“Let me see.” he said, crossing the floor towards her. She turned and he gently reached for the zip, pulling the 2 sides of the dress together but it wasn’t going to fasten.

“See…” she sighed as he let go of the zip and rubbed the top of her arms. “I’m not even 5 months yet…” “You’re a week off.” he said softly.

“…And I feel huge! This is ridiculous…”

Frank slid his arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “Lissy, you’re not huge at all. Bean has just sprouted all of a sudden that’s all. You got a proper bump now.” “I am aware of that, Frank.” She snapped.

Frank took a deep breath, not rising to her in the slightest. Instead his hands moved to either side of the offending swell in her abdomen and he turned her gently towards the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Look… “ he said, fixing his eyes on hers in their reflection as his hand skated over her belly “You’re beautiful, and you’re cooking our baby in here…”

“That still doesn’t help that I have no dress!”

“Ok, well, let’s go shopping tomorrow. Mary’s at that party in the afternoon so we’ll drop her off, head into town and grab you something.”

Fliss paused as she looked at him in the mirror, her face slowly rearranging as she realised that actually the solution to the problem had been fairly simple all along.

“Sorry.” she mumbled. “I flipped again didn’t I?”

“Its fine.” he said, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t throw a mug on the floor today so that’s an improvement.” “In my defence…” she turned to look at him “You did ask me about 5 times if I was feeling ok in the space of 10 minutes” “And clearly you weren’t as said mug is now in 3 pieces…” he shook his head and let out a long, dramatic sigh “You know I loved that mug too…it was a sad day.” Fliss snorted “You got it free from the Tack Store when we took Mary for her new hat…” “And it was a treasured memory. A reminder of how she stung me for another hundred bucks…” “Can’t put a price on safety Frankie.” she smiled and he chuckled.

“So, tomorrow afternoon then?” he asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Can we go to Tampa? The shopping is better there.”

“Sure.” he said, and suddenly the bones of a plan began to form in his head. And it was a good plan…if he could pull it off… “Crisis averted?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

“Good.” he smiled, kissing her cheek before he turned to leave the room to allow her to change for bed.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” he stopped to look at her.

“I really want chilli fries.” she said, her voice almost puzzled.

“Chilli fries?” he frowned “Really? That’s a new one…”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I just got a hankering…specifically for Tequila Mockingbirds fries…”

Frank glanced at his watch “Sweetheart, it’s almost 11. The truck will have shut now…he only opens late on Saturday.”

“Oh, ok.” she said quietly, and he could see to his horror that her bottom lip was starting to wobble. Fuck, not another meltdown. Was this seriously how it was going to be for the next 4 damned months? Fucking hormones…

“Why don’t I nip to the store?” he said, a sudden idea coming to him “I can whip up a batch of the dirty ones you showed me how to make?”

“Yeah, yeah that could work.” she nodded.

“Ok, well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” he smiled, turning on his heels.

It worked out quite well actually, as he used the short drive to the store to put his plan into action. First off he messaged Jake who called him straight back.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I need you to do me a favour…” Frank said, explaining his plan.

“Short notice pal.”

“Yeah but you owe me so pull some strings”

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

“If you hadn’t been tagged on those damned photos no one would have seen them and I wouldn’t have been couched for a night nor would I be suffering with blue balls.” Frank said simply, turning right across a junction.

Jake snorted “Leave it with me Frankie boy…I’ll see what I can do.”

Satisfied he cut the call and once he arrived at the store he shot Verity a quick message asking her if she would mind helping him out as well. He felt a little guilty, as they’d only gotten back from Italy that morning but she replied almost instantly telling him that she thought it was a great idea and her and Bill would be happy to do what he needed them to do.

Smiling he put his phone back in his pocket, and headed to the frozen food aisle at the back of the 24 hour mini-mart. He stood there, unable to decide what fries to buy so in the end he grabbed a bag of every available frozen ones there were- thick cut, curly, southern fried and thin, along with a tin of ready-made chilli (yes, disgusting but on dirty fries it was the only thing Fliss told him worked) and a block of cheddar cheese. As he walked towards the till he stopped, grinning as he spotted they had the big bottles of Appletize too, so he shoved 4 in his basket and headed to the counter.

The woman at the counter looked at him as he began unloading and Frank realised that it was a pretty odd combination.

“You either got the munchies or your girl is pregnant.” she quipped and Frank laughed.

“I’m not high.” he smiled, and the woman grinned at him as she scanned the items through.

Once he had paid he headed home, and found Fliss was led on the sofa with a toasting waffle in one hand and a glass of apple juice in her other.

“Couldn’t wait huh?” he asked as he walked through to the kitchen.

“I know…” she said, looking at him over the back of the couch. “I had an apple and a waffle…and I feel ok now.”

Frank stopped dead and turned to face her, the grocery bags clutched to his chest “Seriously? You don’t want the fries?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

Frank took a deep breath, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek in frustration as he walked into the kitchen, depositing the bags on the side.

“The kid ain’t even born yet and it’s already a pain in my ass…”

“I can hear you grumbling from here…” Fliss called back.

“Good…” he retorted as she shoved the bottles of drink in the fridge and crammed the 4 bags of frozen fries into the freezer. Grabbing a beer he walked back into living room and dropped heavily onto couch next to her.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” she teased, lifting her feet into his lap. He shot her a glare, taking her right foot in his hands in an automatic response, and she dropped her hand to her belly. “Bean is sorry.” she said, flashing him her best puppy dog eyes, those fucking eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

“Don’t pull that one.” he narrowed his own eyes at her and she cocked her head to one side as he ran his thumb up the arch of her foot. She let out a sigh.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” he asked as she looked at him, smirking.

“Bow job?”

Frank snorted, shifting slightly in his seat as that had really got his attention. But, not wanting to give himself away too much he simply arched an eyebrow at her “You think you can win me over like that?”

“Sailor, I know I can.”

“I’m not that cheap.” he said as his hands returned to massaging her foot.

“No, but I know for a fact you haven’t had any since the night before you went to Vegas…” she grinned “What was it you said in New York after a mere 3 days? Oh, yeah, Frankie has needs.”

Ok, so she’d got him well and truly. Like he had said to Jake before, he really was feeling slightly frustrated, but he hadn’t pushed anything on her at all since he’d come back from Vegas, deciding to let her make the decision as to when she wanted to get physically intimate with him again. As he looked at her she simply smiled and drained her glass of juice before setting it on the table.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he shook his head, “Was just trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.” She held his gaze for a moment before she looked back at the TV. They stayed still for a moment and Frank moved his attention to her left foot, before she shifted a little and then glanced back at him.

“Fraaaank.” her voice was an unmistakable whine, which meant she wanted something. “What?” he said, his word turning into an exasperated laugh.

“Did you get any curly fries?” she bit her lip.

“Are you for fucking real?” he looked at her, shaking his head.

“Don’t blame me…”

“Yeah, yeah blame Bean…” he shook his head “I swear to God by the time you’ve actually given birth to the little crotch goblin I’ll have aged about 20 years…”

“Crotch goblin?” she scoffed, “I’ll remind you, pal, you put it there…”

“Not on purpose!” he looked at her.

“Are you calling our baby a mistake?” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him, mock horror on her face

“Mistake…that’s a little harsh.” Frank shook his head “Accident, most definately.”

“Bastard.” Fliss grabbed a cushion from behind her and hit him with it as he laughed, grabbing it out of her hand.

“BB is a very pleasant and welcome surprise…” he said, shifting her legs out of his lap. Grinning he leaned over her, caging her on the sofa with his arms “Although right now, as I’m about to start cooking dirty fries at 15 to midnight, I’m debating the use of the pronoun pleasant.”

She chuckled as he leaned over to give her a soft kiss. Instantly she felt a little flutter again and her hand dropped to her bump.

“Bean’s moving again…”

Frank smiled and shifted a little so he could press his hand to her side, but after a moment or so shook his head, feeling ever so slightly deflated.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You will do soon enough.” Fliss smiled at him.

“Hope so.” Frank’s smile became even softer as he kissed her again and stood up, heading to the kitchen.

Fliss watched him go, before she turned back to the TV, but she wasn’t paying attention, she was too busy thinking to herself how quickly Frank had headed out to get her what she wanted before, even if she had then changed her mind, and then reverted it back to it’s original state. She hated comparing the two of them, and tried not to do it, but as she sat there she couldn’t help it. Frank was as far from John as she was likely to get, her ex-husband wouldn’t have ever done anything like that for her, whether she as carrying his kid or not. But Frank hadn’t even hesitated. And now he was actually about to cook it too. She wasn’t even sure John had ever known how to actually turn the damned oven on. To be fair, when she’d met Frank his cooking skills were also limited but another huge difference in them was that he had wanted to learn. He helped her, listened and managed pretty much once she’d cooked something with him to make a fairly decent version of it on his own. And he did this simply because he wanted to. He had said he didn’t like the fact she cooked every day, and on the evenings she got home a little later than normal he wanted to be able to have something ready instead of merely calling for a take out.

As she sat there, those thoughts whirring in her head, she felt a surge of affection for her Sailor. Since their talk on Monday, she’d let Frank back into their bed but there’d been no intimacy, although she’d let him cuddle her, she’d kissed him back, she hadn’t been unaffectionate per se, but in all honesty she hadn’t been in the mood for anything else, which was probably something down to hormones as well as her still being a little angry at him, but now…well, she’d seen it in his eyes before when she’d been teasing him, he was frustrated as hell.  And if she was honest, she now found herself in the mood for giving him a little spontaneous pleasure…

With a smirk she stood up and walked into the kitchen, her arms snaking around his waist as she pressed herself to his back (well as much as she could thanks to the football she had in her stomach) and pressed a soft kiss to his back, just beneath his shoulder blades.

“You ok?” he asked, his voice vibrating through his back into her chest and she nodded as her hands rubbed at his stomach under his T-shirt. She felt him tense a little, and grinning she gently moved her hands up his top to rake down the line of hair that led from his chest all the way down his belly. She knew what that did to him and right on cue, Frank gave a grunt, jolting a little and her hand continued to move downwards, palming at his crotch through his sweats.

“Lissy…” his voice caught in his throat as she continued, her hand working him up over his clothing. “You don’t need to-“ “I know, but I want to.” she stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. He tilted his head downwards slightly, allowing her to nip at his jawline and he spun round to face her, where she pulled his head down to hers giving him a slow kiss, her tongue sliding against his before she leaned back, his bottom lip between her teeth.

By the time his brain had caught up with what was going on, Fliss had gotten to her knees and flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly. She stroked him to full hardness, which didn’t take that long at all, before she looked up and locked eyes with him, giving him one final smirk before she took him in her mouth.

“God, baby….” Frank groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, her eyes still locked on his. His right hand gently dropped to the back of her head, tangling in her long hair as her head bobbed back and forth. It was bliss, her mouth was warm, lips soft, but her tongue…God she knew just how to work him with that thing and as he felt it wrap around the base of his cock he gave a grunt, his hips bucking forward slightly. At that, Fliss pulled off of him to suck at the tip and worked her hands over the rest of his length which sent shivers up his spine. Groaning, his head dropped back slightly, as she continued to lick, suck before she took him in, this time all the way, her cheeks hollowing and one of her hands reaching round from the back of his thigh to gently squeeze at his balls.

“Fucking hell….” he hissed, his hand tightening in her hair and once more looked at her. Her eyes locked back onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth pooling in his groin and stomach.

"Lissy, sweetheart, shit…" His voice was raspy from desire and pleasure and at the mere sound of how turned on his was Fliss felt the wetness beginning to pool in between her legs. He continued to babble curse words and her name, before he gasped again, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck, honey, "I'm gonna-" his words caught in his mouth as Fliss took him all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the kitchen side, noises that sounded alien even to him tumbling from his mouth as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out against the kitchen side.

Fliss grinned, her hands gently running up the outside of his thighs as she stood up, pulling his boxers and sweats with her, pressing herself to his chest. With a soft hum of contentment, he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Good?” she asked, but the look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what the answer was. Still, he gave it her anyway. “Damned right it was…” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her, his hands holding her face in position. She let out a soft moan into his mouth and he pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow.

“You all worked up baby girl?”

“Yeah…don’t suppose you fancy helping me out…” she whispered, and Frank grinned.

“We got 15 minutes till the fries cook so…” he smirked as he gently spun her round so her back was clutched to his chest.  Fliss grinned to herself as his lips gently brushed on her neck, his beard scratching at her skin as he nipped his way down to her shoulder, his hand splaying over her bump before it worked beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers skated her entrance.

“You are worked up…” he muttered, his fingers sliding through her slick, as her head fell back against his shoulder and she bit her lip.

“I told you…” she muttered as his fingers slipped further into her folds, finding that little bundle of nerves. His other hand slipped up her vest top and ran up her side to her breasts, which he knew would be tender, but the plus side to that was that they were goddamned sensitive, so heightened to his touch and it got her off like nothing he’d ever seen before. True to form, she let out a soft squeak as he rolled a nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. Sliding his fingers inside her he curled them against the fleshy spot on her walls, both his hands working in synch, a coordinated attack on her senses and within minutes she was putty in his hands.

“Frankie…I’m…god…fuck!” she cursed, her head falling back further as her knees began to shake.

“I got you…” he said softly, his mouth caressing her neck again “Go on baby, give it to me…” With a desperate groan she shuddered, her hand wrapping around his wrists as he felt her pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as she came, the trembles wracking her entire body. Frank held her steady until she took a deep breath, giving a soft sigh as she leaning back into him. She tilted her head round to look at him, a smile on her face, her cheeks tinged with pink underneath those gorgeous freckles and he smiled at her, giving her a soft kiss. Setting her clothes right for her, his hands skated over her bump once more and he kissed her shoulder.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yep.” she nodded, popping the P as she turned to face him, leaning up to kiss the underneath of his jaw. He looked down at her, before a wicked smirk crossed his face and he popped his two fingers in his mouth, sucking her taste off him.

“Francis!” she scoffed, slapping him round the back of the head and he let out a loud laugh.

“You don’t complain about me tasting you when I’m down there…” “You’re so vulgar!” she snorted.

“Says the woman who just blew me in the kitchen.” She cocked her head to one side, shrugging slightly “Touché….”

He smiled again before she turned to the fridge “Want another beer?”

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

She pulled open the fridge door and let out a little shriek of delight “Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes widening as she pulled out a bottle of Appletize. “I couldn’t find any in the supermarket!”

“The Mini-Mart before.” he said, “Woman thought I was high when I bought 4 bags of fries and 4 big bottles of that”

“My hero!” she grinned

Frank grinned “if fetching you fries and Appetize means you get on your knees for me then hell, I’ll go every fucking night.”

“Don’t get used to it Sailor.” she looked at him, “Soon I'll be too big to kneel down.”

Frank chuckled, “Why don’t you go wait in the lounge?”

"I'm good.” Fliss shrugged “I'll help."

The two of them stood in the kitchen making their food. Frank warmed the chili through as Fliss grated the entire block of cheese and when Frank challenged her as to why exactly they needed that for 2 of them she simply replied “3 of us Frankie…” whilst patting her bump. Soon they were sat on the sofa, Fliss cross legged with a plate on her lap as she devoured her snack. Frank watched her as she eagerly ate, eyes fixed on the latest episode of Rick And Morty, every so often she would chuckle at something on the screen. Frank smiled to himself, it had felt like a long 5 days since Monday, but they seemed to be on an even keel. She was joking and laughing with him, had been reasonably affectionate and to be fair her affections certainly had upped a notch when she just sucked him off in the kitchen. Granted, all things considered, he’d rather have carried her to bed, taken his time over her, loved on her a little but…well, he certainly wasn’t complaining. It seemed like she’d finally decided he was completely out of the dog house, which suited him absolutely fine.

Fliss let out a happy sigh and placed her now empty plate on the coffee table on top of the one Frank had discarded a few minutes ago. She stretched out her limbs before she shifted and snuggled into Frank’s side.

"Love you." She said, her hand rubbing his tummy softly under his t-shirt. "So does Bean"

Her touch and words made him feel all warm inside. Not horny warm…just…fuzzy warm. Smiling he dropped a kiss to her head “Love you too, both of you.”

****** “What do you think?” Fliss asked, giving a twirl. With the help of the assistant in the little independent Mother and Baby boutique shop they’d stumbled across, aptly called “Bump In The Road” she’d chosen a maxi dress with a pleated tulle overlay in stripes of bright pastel pink, orange, lime-green, purple, yellow and blue. The top half was a baby pink with spaghetti straps which crossed at the back and It had a plunging V-neckline which complemented the fit and flare silhouette which meant the skirt hung comfortably over her lower body but still made her feel sexy enough thanks to it accentuating her cleavage...which, to be fair, she’d noticed when trying the dress on, was a lot more noticable now thanks to her boobs being swollen.

Frank’s eyes took her in and he smiled, nodding approvingly.  “You look beautiful.” he told her honestly, and she flushed a little, twirling in the mirror.

“Do you think the colour is ok or should I go for the yellow one? I mean is it too much boob and the yellow is a halter neck so you don’t see any…” “Lissy…” he shook his head, chuckling “It looks fine, more than fine. I really like it on you.” “It’s also elasticated at the back and the straps adjust.” the assistant spoke “So your worry about bump growing more over the next week won’t cause an issue. You’ll get a fair few months I expect out of this.” Fliss hummed, looked at her reflection again before she smiled “OK, yeah, great…I’ll take it.”

The assistant smiled and Fliss turned back to head into the changing cubicle. Once she was out of ear shot Frank looked at the woman.

“Can we take the yellow one too?” he asked, “Just ring it through before she comes back, I want it to be a surprise.”

The assistant nodded and smiled “Sure, I’ll get it ready and bagged now so she doesn’t see it.”

“Thanks.”

He headed to the till, producing his card and shortly after Fliss joined him and he let out a chuckle when he saw she’d also picked up another little baby-grow on the way. This one was white and bore an apple on the front, with the words “apple of our eye” arched over the top.

“I thought it was kinda fitting.” she grinned and Frank had to agree considering her craving. He handed it to the assistant who was smart enough not to announce the total to him, given the additional purchase as he handed his card over. Fliss pouted at him but one look and she stopped the fuss she was about to make over the fact he had paid. They’d already had that discussion on the way over, Frank insisting that he wanted to buy her the dress considering it was “his fault” as she had put it that she was in this position in the first place.

He took the bag from the assistant and thanking her once more they headed out and back down the street. Frank stole a glance at his watch, it was just after 3. He could do with killing another hour or so before he put into play his surprise plan so he suggested they grab a drink and an ice cream at the little parlour on the corner. Fliss eagerly agreed so that killed another 40 minutes as they sat and joked over a sundae each, before they headed back to the truck taking the long way round, checking out a few other shops as they went, Fliss suggesting the grabbed Mary a few new pieces of clothing as she was growing again. Picking a few t-shirts and a pair of shorts they knew she would like they then headed back to the car and Frank checked his phone, memorising the directions. They weren’t far away.

When he didn’t take the turn for the freeway, Fliss looked at him. “You missed the turn off.” “No I didn’t” he said simply.

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

“We’re not going home.” he said simply. She frowned.

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

Refusing to give her anything else, despite her questioning he kept driving, until he hit the coastal road and continued along the bay until his destination appeared in front of him. Hanging a right turn, he drove his truck down the little winding road which opened up into a circle drive way flanked by palm trees and bright flowerbeds just outside the reception of the Grand Hyatt.

“Frank…” Fliss looked at him, her eyes shining “We’re staying for the night?”

“Yup.” he nodded turning to face her. “I packed us a bag this morning whilst you were at the yard, Mary’s staying with your parents as is Thor and I suspect Fred and we have a dinner reservation at 7 for the Oyster Catcher, which is on the bay at the back.”

“I don’t…how did you manage to pull this off at such short notice?”

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

He hopped out of his truck and smiled to the bus boy who had approached him and nodded for them to collect their bags out of the boot. “Including the large paper one.” he said discreetly and he nodded before he turned to collect the slip of paper from the valet. He took Fliss’ hand and led her into the huge reception area to the hotel, the floor a gorgeous white marble as they walked over to the desk and he smiled at the woman who looked at him.

“Good afternoon Sir, Ma’am.” she smiled, and Fliss suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Everyone was milling around in various states of what she would term upper-class smart casual, in blazers and open necked dress shirts with jeans that probably cost more than her fucking jeep. Frank, however, in contrast didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t here to impress or blend in.

“Reservation for Adler.” he said smiling at the receptionist who tapped at a keyboard and nodded.

“Yes Mr Adler, you’re here for one night…and have an executive double…” she scanned the booking “The room rate is already settled, but I can set up-…” “I’m sorry, did you say the room rate was covered?” Frank frowned. “Yes.” She nodded, “It’s already been paid.” “Take it that wasn’t expected.” Fliss looked at him and he shook his head, smiling.

“No, no it wasn’t. I’ll thank Jake later.” he said, before he turned to the lady at the desk “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem.” she smiled “I was just saying if you want to give me your card I can set up a tab so you can charge items to your room…” “Sure.” he nodded, fishing for his wallet before handing her the small square of plastic. As she took a scan of it he turned to Fliss and dropped a kiss to her temple as she smiled, her arm looping around her waist.

“Is this where we’re staying for Jake’s wedding?” she asked and he nodded.

“Thought we could give it a test run beforehand.” he looked at her “You are ok we’re staying, right?” “Of course.” she smiled “It’s really sweet of you.” “Well, I try.” he winked before he turned back to the brunette behind the desk who asked him for his signature in a few places before she handed him the key.

“Ok so you’re on the 5th floor…” she said nodding, “Room 512. Take the elevator to the 5th floor go right out of the elevator and you’ll see it on the left hand side. I’ll have your bags brought up

Frank thanked her and they both headed off following the directions. Frank led Fliss out of the elevator an down to the room, opening the door to let her in. The room was large, with a huge king bed in the middle and a large TV on the wall, and a balcony overlooking the bay. But what caught Fliss’ attention straight away was the 4 pack of beer on the small table and the large bottle of Apple juice for her. She nudge Frank and he gave a snort as she walked over to it and picked up the note attached to it.

“Enjoy the room on me pal, well, my Employee Free Stay points anyway…sorry about the balls.” she read aloud as she turned to him and Frank rubbed at his neck, “I’m not even gonna ask what that means.” “Yeah, probably best” he grinned, and then there was a knock at the door. Frank opened it and in walked the bus boy with their luggage, setting it down for them before Frank thanked him, slipped him a ten and he headed out.

Fliss looked at the overnight bag and then frowned “What did you bring me to wear to dinner.” “Nothing” Frank said, before he grinned and picked up the bag from the boutique. “But I got you something before.” “That’s for the wedding.” She looked at him, “Although I could wear it twice…” “No, check in the bottom.” he insisted. She frowned a little, before she took the bag and set it down on the small table, before she let out a gasp as she pulled out the lemon yellow dress she’d tried on before.

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of this.” she said, her eyes misting over.

“I know but I wanted to.” he said, stepping forwards his hands dropping to her hips. “I figured it would be nice for us to have some time together, just the two…well…3…” he grinned, nodding to her bump “of us.” “Thank you.” she said, looking up at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

Once they’d unpacked their overnight thing, Fliss headed for a shower and emerged a little while later in a robe and Frank walked back in from where he’d been on the balcony with a beer, having fired a thank you message to Jake. He smiled at Fliss and headed to shower himself, coming back about 5 minutes later also wrapped in a robe. They sat out together on the balcony talking for a little while as Fliss pretty much drank the entire bottle of juice before she announced she was going to get ready.

“You look gorgeous.” Frank said as she stood in front of him, wearing her dress. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her make-up was light, despite the fact that Frank had shoved pretty much every item in her vanity case into their bag not knowing what she would want and wouldn’t want.

“You look pretty dapper too, Sailor” she smiled, taking in his black button down and smart jean. Dropping a kiss to her cheek he gestured to the door and they both left the room and made their way to the restaurant which was located through the back of the hotel. They were led through to the outside patio which had a spectacular panoramic view of Old Tampa Bay. Fliss ordered herself a mock-tail, whilst Frank asked for a beer, grinning when the waiter told them they had Stella on tap.  Fliss busied herself with the menu, and Frank took a moment to watch her. She really was glowing. He’d thought that was such a shit cliché about pregnant women, but at that point in time he couldn’t think of any other way to describe her. Her face was slightly fuller now, but with it she carried a soft look, which just complimented her personality anymore. The changes her entire body was going through reminded him daily she was carrying his baby, and each day he woke up and was convinced he was slightly more in love with her than he had been when he’d fallen asleep, even though he knew that wasn’t actually possible.

“The mahi-mahi looks really good.” Fliss mused as she looked at the menu. “As does the lobster but not sure I can eat that…” “Well, actually…” Frank said, leaning forward and pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket “I knew this was a seafood restaurant so Mary did her usual google…and found this.”

He handed it to her and waited for her reaction. As she scanned the list of seafood that she could eat she shook her head and let out a little moan.

“So all this time I could have been eating prawns?!”

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

“Damned it!” he cursed “I’m going to kill my mum.” “Well I don’t doubt guidelines have changed a little over the years” he chuckled.

Before she could reply the waiter came back to take them to their table which was on the large veranda at bay level. He left them alone for another 10 minutes before returning for their order. Frank raised his eyebrow as Fliss ordered the fishcakes to start and then the Lobster tail for main, not that he cared how much it cost, he wasn’t worrying about that tonight. With that in mind he went for the same started but then the surf-and-turf option, with a fillet steak.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” Fliss said, reaching out over the table, her hand tangling in his. “Just had a meal out, the 2 of us.”

“Me neither.” he mused. “It was before Christmas I know that much.”

“Probably before Boston actually.” she mused.

“We should do it more often” he smiled, his thumb skating over her engagement ring “I like spending time with you like this.”

“Me too.” she smiled at him. “And don’t worry Sailor. Once Bean is here you’re taking me out for an evening of fine dining where I’m gonna eat my bodyweight in blue cheese and drink a swimming pool full of wine…or champagne…or maybe both.” He chuckled and nodded “Whatever you want honey.”

Their conversation turned to their house hunting, both agreeing that they really needed to step it up a notch. They hadn’t even made an appointment with a bank yet to find out what they biggest budget they had was, so that was first on the agenda, Frank saying he would call to make an apartment on Monday. And then when their starters arrived they switched to the biggest question of all at the moment, whether they were going to find out if Bean was pink or blue.

“I think I wanna know.” Fliss said, swallowing the last of her starter, giving Frank a smile

Frank looked at her, his head cocking to one side. “You wanna find out?”

Fliss smiled shyly and paused as the waiter came along to remove their now empty plates before she continued once he had left.  “I wasn’t sure…but…yeah, I think I am now. It struck me before in that shop, that once we know how much easier it will be, buying blue or pink stuff instead of yellows or greys…”

“I dunno, I quite like the yellow item we bought…” he quipped, taking a mouthful of his beer as he nodded to her dress. She grinned.

“Well, yeah, I do too…but you know full well what I mean.”

He chuckled “Yeah, I do.” he leaned forward a little, both arms resting on the table as he looked at her, “Ok, so that’s decided then…we find out?”

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment and he blinked, a soft mile spreading across his face. “I can’t wait.” he admitted to her, almost bashfully and she smiled back.

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

“Frankie, that was such wonderful evening.” Fliss turned to look at him as she kicked off her sandals whilst he locked the hotel room door behind them. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Sweetheart…” he said gently, pulling her to him as his hands wrapped around her back.

“It was really thoughtful” she said, as her hands slid up his chest. “You didn’t have to do it though you know, I mean as an apology, I’m not-“ “No no, it wasn’t that.” he shook his head, “I just wanted some time with you, that’s all. I do have my sentimental moments when I’m not being a complete jack ass.” he quipped and she looked at him, her face soft.

“You’re my jack ass…” she smiled as her arms looped around his neck.

“Always.” he returned her smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Can you help me out of this dress?” she whispered into his mouth, and fuck, he didn’t need asking twice.

Frank reached round to the zipper at the back and gently slid it down as Fliss moved back, allowing the lemon coloured fabric to pool at her feet. He followed the line of her body upwards, over her thighs, that neat little bump, up past her hips, her breasts before he finally met her eyes again. He looked at her for a second before his lips crashed to hers, noses bumping slightly as he flicked his tongue teasingly into her mouth, his hands cupping her ace as hers fisted in the back of his shirt.

In a quick movement, Frank reached down and hooked his hands round the back of her thighs, easily picking her up, bump and all. She giggled, wrapping her legs round his waist, her nose brushing against his as he carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently on it.  He shucked off his own shoes as he reached behind his head and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, yanking it over his head without even bothering with the buttons, before he dropped down on the bed, settling his hips in between her legs in the space she made for him as she ran her hands through his hair. He smiled softly at her before he pressed his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, his large hands keeping him propped above her so as not to put any of his weight against that precious cargo she was carrying.

She pushed on his chest, sitting up slightly as she reached behind her to undo her bran and Frank leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on each shoulder as he slid the straps down over her arms, removing it completely. As she lay back against the bed, Frank shifted so he was led on his side by her, his mouth hungrily covering hers as his hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, to her hip, up the side of her body and then onto her breasts teasing gently. She groaned, rolling her head back on the pillow at the sensation, her hips bucking upwards as he shifted, hovering over her. He buried his face in the side of her neck working at the pulse spot, the little noises of pleasure she was making were music in his ear. Her hips began to move, rolling against nothing, groans falling from her lips at the sensation as he nipped slightly at her neck and then moved his mouth to her chest, taking her right nipple in. Her groans were growing louder now and Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to be in her, surrounded by her, feel her. Moving back to shed the rest of his clothes, he stood up, undoing his jeans and kicking them off, all the time his eyes on Fliss’ as she watched him, her gaze travelling down his body to where his cock now stood angry and red against his abs. He leaned down, hooking his fingers in the lace of Fliss’ panties, pulling them down over her legs before he settled on the bed once more, Fliss moving so she could straddle him. As she did so, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her face down to kiss him as she reached down between them, taking him in her hand. He groaned but didn’t release her mouth as she adjusted position to take him in, slowly sliding down onto him. A filthy moan flew from her mouth which he swallowed with his kiss as she stayed pressed against him, and she began to move, rolling her hips forward. She was quick to find a rhythm and her mouth fell open against his lips and she let out a shaky moan before sitting up fully.

The sight of her on top, illuminated by soft light streaming in through the slight gap in the curtains was almost enough to tip him right over there and then. He wanted to touch her, so he did, bringing her hands up to run them up her sides until his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples as she let out another moan. As she picked up the pace his hands went to her hips, pulling her down onto him harder, thrusting upwards to meet her for every move she made. She continued to move, quickening, her eyes never leaving his.

“Frankie…”she groaned, as he tilted his hips up harder and he let out a groan himself, increasingly determined to get her there again before he lost it. As he felt the coil in his own belly tightening, his hand moved from her hip to stroke at that spot between her legs and that did it. He felt her tense up and tighten around him, crying out loudly and unbridled as she shook. The sight of her coming undone on top of him, her cheeks flushed, lips pink, mouth open in a now silent scream, would always be the single most exquisite thing Frank had ever seen, no matter how many times he got to see it. All of that, coupled with the force of her heat tightening even, more made him lose himself.

“Fuck, Lissy…” the curse fell from his lips as he thrust upwards, before he spilled himself inside her again, the wave of pleasure washing over him as the world fell silent and he could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. Fliss collapsed forward onto his chest, her tremors subsided, both of them panting as they came back down, turning back into the world. Frank held her close, his fingers running up and down her spine as she let out a soft “hum” of contentment and he sat up, wanting to see her face to face. Still cradling her close he pushed the hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ears and she reached up, running her hands through his, causing him to close his eyes at the sensation of her nails on his scalp.

“God, I love you.” he whispered, pulled her closer, his nose rubbing up against hers.

"I love you too.”

Frank moved so that she could roll off him and to the side, before he pulled the covers back, allowing them both to shuffle under before he turned off the lamp at the side of the bed. Fliss moved so that her head lay on his chest, her arm resting over his stomach and he placed a soft kiss to the side of her temple, his hand moving to softly card through her hair. For the first time in a week, Frank felt like things were completely back to where they should be.

***** They had a lazy morning in the hotel, making the most of the breakfast before they headed back to collect Mary. The drive home was relaxed, the pair of them singing along to whatever came on Frank’s Spotify play-list, Fliss snorting with laughter when the Spice Girls Wannabe hit her ears.

“Hey, it’s a classic.” Frank defended himself as she looked at him, shaking her head.

“Sure it is…” she laughed, cranking the volume up.

When they reached Verity and Bills, Thor came bounding up the drive to greet the truck, running after it and almost sending Fliss flying as he barrelled into her legs. Frank caught her, steadying her as he shot the dog an exasperated look. Whilst he wasn’t growling at Frank anymore, the dog was ridiculously clingy to Fliss, more so than usual and had clearly been unhappy at being away from her. They headed round to the pool area, where Mary was busy wrestling with Steve in the pool, swinging on his arm, trying to pull him under the water. She hardly spared them a second glance as they greeted her, until Verity called her out for a drink and a slice of lemon cake.

“Sit down, sit down!” she ushered Fliss and Frank to the outside table on the decking, where Frank moved a chair back for Fliss, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Steve and Mary padded over and Mary wrapped herself in a towel whilst Steve moved over to give Fliss a hug, causing her to squeal as he was wet. Mary hopped onto Frank’s knee and gave his cheek a peck and then squished his cheeks together as she often did, making him jerk his head out of her reach before he blew a wet rasberry on her neck, causing her to shriek and pull away.

Bill appeared a short while later, smiling at them all as he took a seat at the table, an envelope in his hands. He paid it no attention though, simply setting it on the table. They talked for a good 10 minutes or so, Fliss telling them all about their hotel and meal before the conversation turned to chatter of house hunting and how they needeed to step it up a notch really if they wanted to have a place before Bean was born, at which point Verity and Bill shared a glance and Bill cleared his throat

“We wanted to talk to you about that.” Bill said, looking at Fliss.

“Ok…” Fliss frowned, glancing at Frank where he sat to her right. She turned back to her parents. “Is something wrong?”

“No, quite the opposite.” Verity smiled as she glanced at Bill. Both of them looked at Steve then who smiled as Mary looked around.

“Is this one of those adult conversations?” she rolled her eyes and Frank nudged her slightly. Bill chuckled.

“It is kiddo, but you can stay.” he said, before he took a deep breath and leaned forward a little “Ok, so you know I handed the business down to Steve when we left England.” “Yeah…” Fliss looked at him as Frank’s eyes flicked to Steve who was lounging back in the whicker chair, smiling softy.

“Well, when I did that it was valued at just over 2 million pounds” he said and Frank felt his eyebrows shoot up into his head. He knew that Bill and Verity were affluent, but he hadn’t appreciated just how much.

“I know all this.” Fliss frowned. “I’m not following…” “Well, the deal was that I took a million out of the pot straight away, for me and your mum to retire on.” Bill said, “That didn’t leave a great deal of cash left in the accounts,  just enough to keep the cash-flow straight, the rest was tied up in the assets. But the other part of the deal was that whilst I was giving it to Steve, half of it was yours and as soon as he was able to he had to give you your share of the remaining value.” Fliss felt her mouth drop open as she wheeled around to look at Frank. “What? I…” “I never told you any of this, because I didn’t want that bastard getting wind of it.” Bill shook his head. “And obviously, we gave you what we could to set up your business and everything when you moved here, but…” “Basically, Titch, the last year or so the profits have sky rocketed.” Steve said. “And, as a result..”

Bill slid the envelope he had brought towards Fliss and she reached out for it with a shaky hand. Opening it gently, she pulled out a cheque and glanced down at the amount. Just short of four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Fliss swallowed, speechless, as she handed the paper to Frank who took a deep breath, gulping as he saw the amount.

“Holy shit…” Mary mumbled as she too read it, but no one payed her the slightest bit of attention, as Fliss broke the stunned silence that had fallen over her and Frank.

“Dad, Mum, I…” she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “I can’t…” “So, you don’t need to fanny around with a mortgage or a bank loan when you find a house.” Bill smiled at her. “You’ve got enough to buy outright.”

“Bill, Verity, this…this is too much.” Frank looked at them both in turn, the tears stinging his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Verity scoffed “It’s Fliss’ inheritance.”

“I’ll sign a pre-nup.” Frank stuttered suddenly, “Anything, I…”

Fliss frowned as did Bill, and she turned her eyes to him “Why would I want you to do that?”

“That’s your money…” he protested. “Yeah, and I’m sharing my life with you…I’m having your baby Frank.” she said gently “I don’t need a pre-nup. You intending on leaving me?” “No of course not…” “Well then.” she said, simply, as if that settled the matter. And in her eyes it did.

“You’ll also still retain your shares.” Steve said gently, “Which means you’ll get the dividends each year and if things keep going the way they are, you might want to consider buying a few more sharpish. They’ll be worth a lot if we land this contract.”

Fliss nodded, taking the information in before she stood up and headed over to her dad who rose from his chair.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” she said, her tears falling as he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back.

“You’re my little girl.” Bill said, his voice choked “I’ll always see you right, you know this.”

She stepped back and turned to her mum as Frank shook Bill’s hand before the man pulled him into a hug.

“Just look after her.” he whispered in Frank’s ear. “I know I don’t need to say it but…”

“You have my word.” Frank pulled back and looked his future father-in-law in the eyes. “I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.”

“Does this mean we can get a house with a pool?” Mary piped up, from where she was now situated in Steve’s arms.

Frank looked at Fliss before they both grinned and he turned to Mary.

“Not sure.” he said “Don’t want you getting all spoilt now do we?”

“Fine…” she shrugged “I’ll just move in here. That’s ok isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Verity grinned “Although you do know if you do, its bed at 8 every night, no treats before dinner, no…” “Who are you trying to kid?” Mary scoffed “Frank says you’re both a pair of right soft touches.”

Frank groaned as Bill, Verity and Steve all sniggered and he shook his head at Mary who stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Mary simply shrugged and Fliss slid her arms round Frank’s waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“So, house hunting starts tomorrow?” he asked, and she grinned nodding.

“You bet Sailor…”

“Ohhh we could buy a boat!” Mary said suddenly, and Frank paused.

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

“Yeah, I’ll buy you a remote control one to play with in the pool” Fliss grinned and Bill laughed as Mary let out a loud yell.

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for God’s sake…”

“Ok…Bean wants a pool” Mary grinned as Fliss looked up at Frank with a shrug and a smile.

“It would be kinda cool...” she said softly. 

Frank simply snorted and shook his head. 

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Make Me Wanna Kiss You

Dean x OFC Rhea, 1200 words, cute fluff and food

Written for my sweet @winchesterxfamilybusiness Make Me Swoon 250 Followers Challenge. Sabrina, it has been a delight to get to know you! I admire you as a person, a fangirl, and a friend. Hope this makes you swoon

Rhea sighed as she locked the door behind at the small family-owned restaurant where she worked. The last lunch customer had just left, and now she had only a couple of hours before the restaurant would reopen for dinner, and plenty of work to do in the meantime. She had to chop vegetables for salads, fruit for cocktail garnishes, and slice the bread that would go on the table with every meal. There was also cleaning to be done and silverware - always silverware to be rolled. 

But first, her own lunch. One of the perks of this job was that the owners provided a meal between the seatings. Usually it was a burger, hot sandwich, or the daily special, whatever the kitchen needed to get rid of, but it was free and better than what she could cook on her own. 

Lately, though, there was an added attraction to employee meal time: the handsome new line cook, Dean Winchester.

He had started a couple of months ago when the last line cook stormed out in a huff over food safety measures. Dean fit into the kitchen like he had always been there. 

At first, Rhea had been attracted to him for his good looks. His handsome face, sprinkled with freckles, was all chiseled angles, except for his mouth that was ridiculously plush.  His apple green eyes were bracketed by lines that deepened in the rare moments that he laughed. 

He turned out to be a hard worker, steady and less temperamental than most of the kitchen staff she had worked with over the years. He moved from stove to line to fridge to broiler with grace and rhythm that reminded her of a dancer. And his hands, those broad knuckles, scarred and freckled - she had lost moments, sometimes, watching him work. 

Dean didn’t talk a lot, but Rhea had managed to gather that he was new in town, that he had a younger brother, and that his pride and joy was his car, a ‘67 Chevy Impala he referred to lovingly as Baby. He smoked, of course, drank a little too hard, and was inked as far up his arms as she could see under his black chef’s jacket.

Lately, she had started to linger in the kitchen when he made her lunch, for no reason other than she wanted to be near him. Sometimes she felt like she was talking to a brick wall, but then occasionally he would chuckle or simply crack a smile so bright it made her blush. 

“It’s sandwich day!” He greeted her with a wide grin. “The other waitress already got hers and went-” he gestured with a spatula at the door. “So pick what you want, whatever you want, that I can put between two piece of bread.” 

Rhea paused, taken aback. 

“But wait.” Dean continued. “Let me guess, BLT on wheat toast, extra crispy bacon, add cheddar and avocado, side of fries.” 

“How- how did you know?” 

“I pay attention. You like things a certain way. And I know you usually eat the veggies of the day, but I see you sneaking fries off the warmer.” 

Rhea blushed, but it was true. “Okay, but I can’t eat a side of fries every day. Do you know how much fatter I’d be?”

Dean’s expression turned dead serious. “First of all, there is nothing fat about you. Second, who cares? Life is short. Eat the fries. I like to see a woman who enjoys her meals.” He turned away suddenly, as if afraid he had said too much. 

He was silent while he made and plated not one BLT but two. He handed her both and took off his apron before he spoke again. 

“C’mon, its a clear sunny fall day. Let’s eat outside.”

“Outside?” Rhea was confused. The restaurant didn’t have outdoor seating. But Dean held the back door to the kitchen open and she followed. Around the corner there was a messy pile of milk crates. He set three in a row against the side of the building and settled onto one. 

Rhea set the plates on the center crate like it was a table before sitting down. The sun-warmed brick of the building felt good against her back. When she picked up her sandwich, it was perfect. For a few moments, they ate in comfortable silence. 

A sudden gust of wind drove a shower of yellow and orange leaves in their direction, and she laughed as she tried to keep them off her food. Dean picked one up and looked at it almost solemnly. 

“I guess if the leaves are falling, it’s time for me to cook fall food. What do you think of pumpkin soup?” He turned to her, as if her opinion mattered for the restaurant menu. 

She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Eww, no. Everything is pumpkin this time of year. I like a good slice of pumpkin pie, but there can be too much of a good thing.” 

Dean smirked as if there was something funny about that before he spoke again. “What do you suggest then?” 

“Mac and cheese. Nothing like good old fashioned homemade cheesy pasta. And you can do so much with it, you can make it simple or fancy, you can add veggies, you can put bread crumbs on top, plus it’s not too expensive and everybody likes it.” Her voice trailed off.

“Great idea! See, I knew you were a lady who knew her food. Plus, my brother says I make the best mac and cheese in the world. Of course, he might be biased. When we were kids, we often didn’t have anything else. So I’d do my best to dress it up, add hot dogs, marshmallow fluff.”

Rhea laughed, but Dean was dead serious. “Well, it sounds like he thinks the world of you. I’m sure you are a great big brother, although now I have some doubts about your culinary ideas.”

Dean was the one who laughed then, head back, eyes crinkled. The thought crossed her mind that he looked younger when he was happy. When his eyes met hers again, they held a question she didn’t quite understand.

“But as long as you promise to keep it a little more traditional, I’ll try anything you want to make.”

“You gotta stop doing that.” Dean held out his hand unexpectedly over their empty plates on the milk crate table. 

“What?” Rhea slipped her hand into his. His palm was warm and he curled his finger over hers.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.” 

She searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but his eyes shone earnestly and his lips curled with hope. 

“What makes you think I don’t want you to kiss me, Dean Winchester?” She answered at last. 

Their first kiss tasted a little bit like bacon, and as Dean brought one hand up to caress her face, the wind blew another cascade of leaves down around them. 

Rhea had things to do, food to prepare and silverware to roll. She had mac and cheese to taste in the future. But that afternoon, with the sun on her face and Dean’s lips on hers, there was nothing else she wanted. 

*** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Dean Curious: @adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma  @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho, @cherry3point14 @cracksinthewalls, @fookinghelljensensthighs @itmighthavebeenintentional, @justcallmeasmodeus, @lastactiontricia @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @mskathywriteswords​, @rockhoochie​, @there-must-be-a-lock​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​

[sweetness47]

Karma is a Bitch

Theme: smutty filth, criminal activity, virgin reader, etc… MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!!!

Pairing Criminal!Steve Rogers x Nurse!Reader

This is for @sherrybaby14​ and her Reader-insert smut prompt challenge - Steve Rogers Prompt #16

A/N: I hope you like this @sherrybaby14 (hugs)

Final word count: 3898

Summary: After finally getting her freedom from mob life and putting her brother, James “Bucky” Barnes, behind bars with her testimony, a chance encounter with a wounded man puts everything she’s built for herself in jeopardy.

Steve’s POV

This just wasn’t my day. I’d just pulled off a brilliant jewelry heist, only to get noticed by a passing patrol car while exiting the store.

Fuck my life.

It wasn’t always bad, at least not while I worked for Bucky. He was one hell of a crime boss and was more than fair to his employees, myself included. But now? He was in prison for 25 to life, because of a whack load of evidence and some pretty hefty testimonies. What was left of the empire he’d built was trying to survive.

That being said, fast forward to tonight. I make a beeline for the alley, my escape car parked two streets over, two-minute sprint through the back lanes. The cops started firing at me, I fired back. I managed to make it to the car and unlock the door before they rounded the final corner, weapons still drawn, bullets still flying everywhere.

Adrenaline was pumping wildly through my veins as I took off down the street, my unmarked Firebird screeching over the pavement. Taking back alleys and dark roads as much as possible, I finally managed to pull into a dark lot and ditch the car. I grabbed the jewels and ran for the underground sanctuary I had for emergencies.

I never made it there.

Reader’s POV

There are pros and cons to being a nurse. I get to help people, save lives, but the hours are shit. The only reason I stay is to help the patients. Well, that and money helps. Not that I need it. But I don’t like to use the other funds I have at my disposal, except in a dire emergency. They remind me too much of my brother and the life he had before my testimony put him away for life.

I was able to get into the witness protection program and have my name scrubbed from the testimony. I loved my brother, don’t get me wrong, but it was too much danger. My life almost ended a few times, but the last time was what made me turn. Not only did a rival family kidnap me, one of them almost raped me, and threatened to execute me. NOT FUN!

My brother killed them and rescued me, but I’d had enough. All I wanted was to live peacefully and without constant fear of being targeted by someone else. I changed my hair, my clothing, my looks, and my name, got a place in a different area of town, and was finally at a place in my life where I could just be me.

Well I was.

I went for a walk late, my German shepherd decided to fancy a stroll, and of course, how could I say no to that beautiful puppy face. I wasn’t worried about being attacked or anything, mostly because one look at Bowser (yes I named him Bowser), and most people crossed the street to avoid me. It was a nice feeling.

It was Bowser who noticed him first. I was completely in my own little world, enjoying the evening air, the stars. Bowser barked, whining as he strained against his leash, desperate to get to whatever was in the parking lot. I frowned. Bowser never behaved like this. It was unnerving to say the least. I followed my dog’s lead, and my jaw dropped at the sight of the man on the ground, unconscious, blood pooling from a wound in his side. I knelt down and check his pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief upon finding he wasn’t dead.

I went to call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance, but a hand reached out to stop me. “No cops. Please.” He croaked before passing out once more.

I frowned. I didn’t like the road this evening was heading down, and I certainly didn’t need to draw attention to myself. But I couldn’t walk away either. This man needed help, and I was the only person around who could get him the help he needed.

I checked around for security cameras around the lot, finding none close by, then checked the street. It was almost a god send that the streets were empty at the moment, and that my home was close by. I grabbed him by the arms, and dragged him back to my house, Bowser sticking close by, in case something bad happened.

Steve’s POV

I winced at the sunlight pouring in, it’s brightness blinding me something fierce. I had a massive headache, and on top of that, every movement shot burning pain through my abdomen. I gingerly moved my hand over the area and felt a bandage. Then I remembered seeing the blood seeping through my clothing right before I collapsed.

I’d been shot.

But I wasn’t in a hospital, nor was I in a prison medical facility. I was in a house. Whose house, I couldn’t say, but it looked feminine. The room I currently occupied had sunshine yellow walls, with decorative floral art pieces hanging from them. The furnishings were dark mahogany to contrast the yellow, and the bedding was a mix of pink and grey, with a quilted floral bedspread. It was actually quite breathtaking.

I tried to move, desperate to take a leak, only to realize three things.

1.       I was naked.

2.       It hurt to move.

3.       There was a massive German shepherd sitting at the foot of the bed watching my every move.

Fuck!

The dog whined and barked, drawing in a woman, no an angel. Her (H/C) hair flowed about her with fluid grace, in time with her body movements. Her skin was radiant, almost glowing in the sunshine lit room. Her (E/C) eyes were magnets, drawing me in like a ship to a siren.

My body certainly had no problems with her looks either, I could feel myself growing hard, and had to shift the covers to hide my obvious attraction.

“Going somewhere?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“I need to use the washroom.” I managed to speak with a somewhat normal tone. My other brain was screaming for me to take her and do wicked things to that delectable body of hers.

She cocked her head to one side, as if studying me. “Hmm. Ok. Here,” she tossed me a robe. “Put this on and I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

I nodded and slipped the white terry bath robe over my broad shoulders. It was actually quite roomy and comfortable. She blushed and turned away while I awkwardly stood and wrapped the plush material around my torso to cover my hard-on.

Once I was ready I cleared my throat and she turned back to me, then came to put my arm around her shoulders to support me while we journeyed to the washroom. Once there, she released my arm. “I’ll be here when you’re done. There’s a new toothbrush in there, and shaving products should you want to use them.”

I nodded and closed the door. After relieving myself, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I didn’t shave, but made sure my beard was trimmed and clean. Once I was done, I ran my fingers through my hair, using a small amount of water to smooth down the stray hairs.

Satisfied with my appearance, I opened the door and, true to her word, the woman was leaning against the wall, waiting for me. She positioned herself on my sore side, taking my arm and wrapping it around her shoulders once more, and walked me back to the room.

My body reacted to her close proximity, her scent was intoxicating. Citrus and floral, a hint of vanilla and sandalwood. I fought the urge to take her against the wall, fuck her senseless, pound into her so hard that she wouldn’t walk straight for a god damned week.

Only the pain from the gunshot stopped me from my current fantasy. Carefully I sat on the bed and she helped me swing my legs up so I could lay back on the pillows she’d placed behind me.

“Stay.” She ordered, before disappearing from the room. Minutes later she returned with a tray containing a sandwich, some soup, and what smelled like coffee, along with a glass of water and what I perceived to be pain meds. “Do you take cream or sugar, and do you have any allergies?”

When I shook my head, she continued. “Here’s some T 3’s. They’ll help take the edge off the pain. After you’ve eaten, we’ll get you set up for a shower, then I’ll check and redress the wound. You’re lucky, you know. It was a through and through shot, and didn’t hit any major organs.”

I arched a brow. “How did you know it was a gunshot?”

“I’m a nurse.” She said simply. “Besides, I’ve seen enough of those kinds of wounds to last a lifetime. It’s not my first rodeo with this shit.”

I wanted to ask what she meant but decided against it. It wasn’t any of my business. But I could see a hint of what looked like regret in her gaze, along with sorrow, like she missed someone, family perhaps. She turned away and strode out of the room, leaving me to dig in to the feast before me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now, the homemade broccoli and cheddar soup invading my senses, and the turkey bacon club sandwich that accompanied the hot liquid was divine. I took the analgesics and then quickly polished off the food before me, my stomach rejoicing as it received the tantalizing offerings.

My mind wondered briefly to the other things she’d said. Mostly, setting me up for a shower. I could barely stand on my own right now, maybe I could lean against the shower tiles for most of it, but getting in and out would be a challenge. What I wouldn’t give to have her in there with me, her hands sliding over my skin as she lathers soap over my body, caressing my shoulders, my abs, my aching cock. It was a wet dream right now, but damn, what I wouldn’t give to make it reality. To take her and make her mine. Permanently.

~~

Reader’s POV

I pride myself on my self-control, and my ability to do my job. Mr. Hunk wasn’t making my life or my job easy, that’s for sure. He’d been unconscious for two damn days, and I can’t even begin to count how many times I’d imagined what he’d feel like. I’m embarrassed to admit I’d masturbated a few times with him in my thoughts. It took every ounce of will power I possessed to clean and bandage his wound without running my fingers over his firm torso or those rock solid abs.

Last night I’d been so bold as to masturbate while watching him sleep. I imagined his fingers parting my folds, his tongue fucking me, his hard cock driving into me with wild abandon. I’d never reacted to any man like this. It was new and a bit frightening.

I’d kissed a few men in my 22 years, but I’d never actually done anything beyond that. James was very protective, and very intimidating. Any guy who met him usually took me on a very polite date, then I never heard from them again. After my brother’s incarceration I’d been so engrossed in work and changing my identity and address, I hadn’t really put any thought into dating

But now, with my overbearing sibling in prison, and this gorgeous man in my bedroom, the thoughts were most definitely there.

I walked back to the room after about half an hour, smiling when I see the empty tray. He was famished, as I’d guessed, and polished off the entire meal. “How was the food? Satisfactory, I hope?”

He grinned. “Beyond satisfactory. It was spectacular. Thank you. For all of this.” He gestured to his bandage and the tray.

I blushed and nodded, my eyes raking over his bare chest. “Your welcome. Now, we should get you showered and cleaned up so I can check that wound.”

He glanced at me, and I quickly averted my eyes. Had he seen me ogling him? Fuck.

“You should tell me your name. I want to know the name of my savior.”

My cheeks were crimson now. “YN.” I managed, my voice shy now.

He looked me over. “YN. It’s a beautiful name. I’m Steve.”

He held his hand out to me, and I took it. Instantly, sparks flew between us. He studied my reaction, and I couldn’t tear myself away from his blue eyes, sparkling like sapphires in the gleam of the afternoon sun.

I cleared my throat. “We should get you to the shower now.”

He nodded and I helped him stand. He turned to face me for a moment, and his head bent toward me, his lips brushing lightly across mine. He quickly straightened and apologized. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

I frowned and helped him to the washroom. Had I done something wrong? Was I supposed to react differently? My hormones were screaming at me to kiss him, to inform him he hadn’t been out of line at all. I was simply surprised by the gesture. I wanted him to kiss me again actually.

My panties were wet with the thought.

I started the shower then blushed furiously as I turned to him, only to find that he’d removed the robe and stood in front of me in all his naked glory. Fuck! My panties, if they weren’t ruined before, certainly were now. I was gushing. I’m pretty sure I orgasmed from the sight of him.

As if sensing my lustful thoughts, he stepped closer to me, and gently wrapped his hand around the back of my head, tilting it up to meet his lips once again. The second our mouths connected I melted, and any resolve I’d been having went straight out the window. He lifted my shirt and tossed it behind him with his good side, then went to remove my bra. I worked swiftly at removing my jeans and my ruined undergarments, then I put my hand in his and led him to the shower. The steamy liquid washed down over us, and Steve winced as his wound made contact with the water.

“Careful. Just turn slightly away from the water. Partial contact will be easier to endure.” I whispered.

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got something to distract me from the pain.” He pulled me into his arms again as his lips crashed into mine. There was no gentleness there, just raw, savage need. I could feel the thick bulge of his arousal pressed against my belly as I pressed closer to him. God this man was fucking incredible, well endowed, and at this moment…mine.

~~

Steve’s POV

Pain was about the furthest thing from my mind. I was pretty sure this was heaven as I watched YN take some soap and lather it over my body, taking extra care around the bullet wound. Her hands caressed my back, my front, then she moved lower, giving my hard cock some much wanted attention. Her tongue flicked over my length, then dipped into the tip, swirling around the large head, causing it to jerk. I almost came right there.

“Careful sweetheart. You might make me come too soon.”

She stood and grinned while blushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

I stopped her right there. “I wasn’t stopping you because I wasn’t enjoying your attention. Quite the opposite, actually. I was very happy with what you were doing. But I was hoping to finish in a different way.”

Her lips formed an ‘Oh’ while she turned a bright crimson. Could she really be that innocent? I was beginning to think she’d never done anything like this before.

We rinsed off and exited the shower, YN bending down to retrieve the robe from the floor. She wrapped it around me, then grabbed a towel for herself. Taking my hand, she walked with me back to the bedroom, where she had me lay down, minus the robe, while she put a fresh bandage on my wound. Once that was taken care of, she removed her towel and came to join me on the bed.

“How do you want to do this?” she asked.

I thought for a moment. I was in good enough shape to support myself with my good side, but I didn’t know if I could get all the momentum needed. The best option would be her on top.

“Straddle my hips.” I motioned with my hands, then I reached between us and felt her tight heat. She was so wet. Fuck! I slid my fingers along her slit, and she gasped when I slipped two of my thick digits inside her. Tight was in fact an understatement. I cursed then she moaned. My control was all but gone now, I wanted nothing more than to dive in.

So I did.

I lined up my cock with her entrance and after looking into her eyes, thrust inside. Her tight walls contracted as she struggled to adjust to my size. There was a brief flicker of pain in her eyes, but her smile told me all I needed. Then I was thrusting, slowly at first, making sure she was still ok, then I picked up speed.

She chanted my name over and over as she felt the first orgasm hit, throwing her head back as it washed over her. Her cries filled the room as my thrusts became more urgent, giving her more aftershocks.

“Steve…Oh God!”

Her words sent me into a frenzy as I hit my own climax, spilling inside her as her walls clenched around my cock.

Panting, she collapsed on top of me, then scurried to the side when I groaned. “Oh my god, sorry.” She immediately felt horrible for the faux pas.

“No worries.” I reassured her. I pulled her close to me our bodies relaxed from the mind-blowing sex we’d just participated in.

“Ok.” She said quietly as her eyelids closed, along with mine, our bodies resting together.

~~

Reader’s POV

I woke first, glancing beside me, my cheeks flushed as I recalled what I’d done with this man. Carefully maneuvering out of his arms, not that I really wanted to, I got off the bed and went to check his wound. The vigorous sex we’d had last night hadn’t opened the stitches thankfully, nor had it caused any weeping. I breathed a sigh of relief and tugged on some sweats and a t-shirt. Padding to the kitchen, I set about making some breakfast, quickly deciding on pancakes and bacon.

Maybe it’s my inner consciousness chiding me, but I realize I know nothing about the man in my bed. I don’t know who he is or why he was shot. I don’t know fuck all really, apart from his first name. There’s a small part of me that thinks he looks familiar, but for the life of me I can’t place him. I shake the thought from my brain as I mix the batter and start frying the bacon.

I have coffee going and most of the food made when I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and I’m greeted with soft lips on mine. “Morning.” His voice is husky and I feel myself growing damp once again. I never knew one man could have such a profound effect on me.

I smile and hand him a mug of coffee. “Morning yourself, sleepyhead. How do you feel today?”

He sat down at the table. “Not bad, better than yesterday for sure. Considering the activities of last night, I feel pretty damn good.”

I nodded as I put out the food. “That’s good.” I pause as I sit down across from him. “We should probably talk.”

He seems to think on that idea. “Yeah, probably. I’m sure you’ve got a shitload of questions about everything.”

“I do, though I probably don’t want to know the answers to them.” I answer truthfully. And I really don’t, for numerous reasons. What I don’t know can’t hurt me, well not directly. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

He nodded. “I was seen by a patrol car leaving the scene of a jewelry heist. I was seconds away from a clean getaway. I ran, they chased, they shot at me, I shot at them…blah blah blah. You get the idea. Anyways, I got to my car and drove off, only to get out, make it about 20 feet, and collapse behind the dumpsters. You know the rest.”

I pursed my lips. “How did you get into this life? You’re smart, strong, and you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. You don’t seem like the type to just choose crime as a life goal.”

He looked down at his plate. “I was a street kid, orphaned when I was 11. This guy found me and took me in, gave me a place to stay and food to eat. I guess it was kind of like adopting, but he was only two years older than me. He had a family.”

My eyes widened. “Wow. So you stayed with his family?”

He shook his head. “No. He hid me at their family guest house for some years. No one ever used it, it was kind of like a prop on their land. So I had heat, running water, and shelter. The boy who’d helped me brought me some of his clothes and always visited me. My life would probably have ended years ago if he hadn’t found me.”

That uneasy feeling popped into the back of my mind again. I really hoped I was wrong with that thought. I remembered my brother spending a lot of time in our guest cottage. He never let me tag along, mostly cuz I was 4 and completely annoying at that age. But, he’d also warned me to never go near the cottage, else he’d beat me. Not that he ever laid a hand on me. It was just a warning, but one I took seriously at the time. He’d also warned me to never tell mom or dad about his frequent visits to the guest house. And I hadn’t.

I held my breath, debating whether or not I should ask the next question, the one that burned on the tip of my tongue. I would hate myself for asking, but I would hate myself more for not asking.

“What was the boy’s name?”

My blood froze when he answered, and not just from the answer, but from the tone of his voice. “You probably know him, since I saw a picture of him on your dresser this morning YN. His name was James, but everyone always called him Bucky.”

@sherrybaby14​ @legion1993​

[dise7se]

gone, gone (thank you)

by @spideysforce (8.1k) for @tonystarkdadmode ( @irondad-fic-exchange )

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Betty Brant, Quentin Beck, Tony Stark, Matt Murdock, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Karen Page

Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Summary: 

Peter has paranoia looming behind him, always watching him, never lingering too close but never leaving him alone. In each dark corner of any alleyway he’s in, paranoia follows him. The green gases and mists seeping out of his city’s storm drains, twirling mystically around his feet, those are all Mysterio. His anxiety-addled brain has convinced him each warp of sulfur dioxide twirling through the air, green subway lights illuminating each particle is Quentin Beck, taunting him in his home."I've got a show waiting for you in Manhattan."

— prompts: presumed dead, hypothermia, and hurt/comfort

read on ao3 (leave comments and kudos)

“There is no way Parker is Spider-Man!” Flash said, voice distant down the hall of the snow-lodge cabin, game pieces clacking against the board.

“And why can’t he be?” Betty asks, voice muffled over a piece of licorice.

“We’ve already been over this,” Ned sighs, the room quieting except for the crackle of the fireplace in front of them where they gathered on the living room floor surrounding the coffee table.

“Bullshit.”

“The dickwad is right here, you know,” MJ says, setting her mouth straight to hide her laugh. She fails. “Ned, let’s hear him out. Can Flash really connect Peter Parker to Spider-Man? JJJ couldn’t.”

They can, not that the Daily Bugle should have aired out his business for all of his home city to prey on, for Mysterio to get into his head, and target every last of his loved ones. It had only been a few months since the older man had faked his death on television, had the Daily Bugle ruin his reputation more than they’ve already tried, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly with Pepper Potts to backtrack on this PR nightmare that carefully painted a brushstroke target on each of his loved ones.

Peter has paranoia looming behind him, always watching him, never lingering too close but never leaving him alone. In each dark corner of any alleyway he’s in, paranoia follows him. The green gases and mists seeping out of his city’s storm drains, twirling mystically around his feet, those are all Mysterio. His anxiety-addled brain has convinced him each warp of sulfur dioxide twirling through the air, green subway lights illuminating each particle is Quentin Beck, taunting him in his home.

These last few months, his previous mentor has been out of commission, along with other Avengers. He can’t complain, though, he has a feeling he’s making new allies in his home-burough while being a vigilante. Possibly a new mentor, but that’s him projecting. There is no Mysterio if he buries himself in school and work, if he’s exerting himself.

He walks over and joins the rest of them in the living room of the cabin from the hallway where he set down his suitcase and organized it before aunt May came back.

“You hear back from MIT?” MJ asks, scooting closer to him once he sits down on the floor beside her and the coffee table.

“Not yet,” he says, all the attention shifting to him. “I think we’ll all hear back by next week.”

“Well, we may have applied, but it doesn’t mean all of us will get in..” Flash announces, earning an elbow to the ribs by an exasperated Betty.

This is their new dynamic now, really, maybe it was their subconscious way of coping with their previous summer vacation, they began gravitating towards each other.

Peter watched the confusion flicker across Flash’s face, mumbling an apology and a sarcastic, “it’s true..”

He’s been doing that more often, and even though he’s made it clear that he hates it when Peter looks at him with that, ‘psychoanalytical’ face, he’s trying to figure him out. Flash is an electrical current, a neon light buzzing, flickering and it seems like there’s a fuse ready to burst into flecks at any time. He doesn’t mind when Flash is annoyed with him, he knows sophomore and junior year bailing on Academic Decathlon was his fault, but there’s a weight off his shoulders since his identity was revealed to the entire world, he’s in a legal case with a local Queens lawyer to soften the blow currently, and he can handle these little outbursts.

If Flash goes around the school revealing his identity, well, he doesn’t have much leverage.

He puts everything he has into tormenting Peter, but that’s how he is. That’s how their classmates see him, he likes being the center of attention.

The second time he noticed it happen, it was after their Europe trip. He was hugging May, holding her close, Betty, Ned and MJ scattered, and he caught sight of Flash. May turned their 1940s Revolvo on and they sat with the cold air blowing on their faces, May’s face flickering between him and Flash and his butler.

He never dared to bring it up. Ned and MJ never allowed him to, no matter how subtly he planned to. It wasn’t fair of his family, it wasn’t fair for him to go through alone. He never fooled Petter with his facade, but the sinking feeling in his stomach felt worse. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, no matter how many obligations he has to worry about.

Ben taught him when any situation arises for him to be the bigger person, he needs to be the bigger person and assume responsibility. He knew he needed to help find Flash a safe space if he couldn’t by himself. Or, fuck, even just support him whenever he needed to.

In his own fucked up way, Flash had his back as well.

He shoved a skateboard into his arms one afternoon after leaving a Decathlon meeting, murmuring he needed a skating partner today. To not take it personally, they wouldn’t hold hands or anything, but to make fun of someone else if they fall off the board or eat shit.

He had a feeling, and he thinks he’s right. That morning, Peter came in late, nearly dragged in by May because of a late night run-in with Silver Stable. With the scrapes and bruises from being dragged through Manhattan, he might as well have been dragged by a skateboard and not his web shooters.

So, they skateboarded.

And he did eat shit.

Ned, MJ, and Flash scold Betty for accidentally shoving the Monopoly board too far to the left, Ned yelling at Flash to stop cheating and taking his money. May comes in at the perfect time, yelling over the teenagers that she bought everyone’s sandwiches from the sub shop.

“May, you bring my camera in?” Peter asks through a full mouth of lettuce, bread, tomato, cheddar, and deli-meats, earning a light playful smack upside the head.

He doesn’t miss Flash’s furrowing brows, his body immediately freezing from across the kitchen island. She mutters, “Yes, Peter, next time I’ll make you walk a quarter mile in the snow for it.”

He snorts, earning a small, ‘smeck,’ on the forehead and watches May pass out the rest of his friends’ food and chips and drinks. He forgot what this was like, back in Europe with Ned when they felt independent on their own and like they could take on the world from a small, cramped space with all their friends.

“Hey, Peter, did you get an email back from that lawyer?” Ned asks, chewing loudly from his chips and turning back to him. His other half, the other part of his brain, oh, where would he be without Ned? “Remember, you said you’d get one.”

“Mm!” Peter exclaims with a full mouth, taking his phone out from his jean pocket. He doesn’t give the group any details, ever, just the public information the brand new firm allows to go to the press. They’ve strategic in their methods, and May was the most doubtful at first, but the two lawyers and impressive secretary were not as amateur as their clientele suggested.

He turns his phone screen to let May watch his email app load, slurping loudly on his drink while May sighs. “You know, I won’t miss that when you go off to school next year. I think you do it on purpose.”

“Hm, a schemer never tells.”

An email with the subject Please read by tonight, 12/11 which makes his stomach lurch. May hesitates, grabbing onto his hand holding the phone and her hand shakes slightly before she presses on the lock button. This could mean anything. His paranoia, the slight buzz constantly whirring behind him at all times from his senses could be triggered by anything and everything, could be confirmed by this email.

May squeezes his shoulder, ready to talk to the rest of the group once she notices his jaw lock-up in anxiety. “We did get an email. Come on, after you guys eat, we’ll do ice skating as promised.”

MJ continues with their conversation about MIT earlier, which leads to an argument over whether or not there truly is a class on street fighting mechanics, or do they call it that to glorify physics.

He knew forgetting about the email until he could be alone to read it with me would not help him at all. He excuses himself, picking his phone up and ignores the worrying glances from his friends.

Before he can think to text Tony, his caller ID flashes across the screen. “Hello?”

“ Hey, Peter ,” he begins, “I only have a few minutes to talk, Morgan’s taking a bath and is currently making bubble potions that may or may not be spilling over the bathtub. Wanted to check in on you..”

“Don’t let Morgan flood the bathroom again, Tony,” he says lightheartedly, knowing why he’s calling. “Listen, were you cc’ed into the lawyer’s email? I haven’t read it yet and—”

“Whoa, slow down kid,” he says, and Peter walks up the wooden stairs of the lodge, watching the living room between the wooden panels. He really needs to give Tony shit for inviting them to a cabin the size of his apartment complex floor. “ That actually is why I’m calling. They said Nelson has reason to believe Mr. Beck may be conspiring inside of the prison, but he can’t know for sure. This is not a reason to become anxious, okay?”

“What do you mean he’s conspiring?! ” Peter yelps, yanking the nearest door open in the long hallway and closing himself in with an unnecessary slam. “What reason does this lawyer have?”

He thinks his friends can hear him from downstairs, he knows May can.

“ Calm down ,” he chastises over the phone, his voice rough and quiet. Peter curses himself for making the man drop his own familial responsibilities for him, but his guilt complex the size of Manhattan won’t let him go through this by himself. Like he needs to. “ Don’t get worked up. I wanted to call and let you know I have someone looking into this even further, along with Murdock and Nelson. It’s probably just a threat out of boredom, probably got a smack on the wrist for staying out past curfew and he wants to take it out on everyone. ”

Peter sighs, sinking down onto the ceramic tile floor of the bathroom. It’s large, has fluffy white towels on a rack to his left, a large walk-in shower, and is bare of bath-mats but signs point to supplies under the sink. This is good, he thinks, he can ground himself.

The tile is cool on his hand, it’s freezing him through his jeans, one of the laces on his snow boots came undone, and he can hear Morgan screeching in the background over her magical bath potions that she’s going to make a mermaid out of.

“ You still with me? ” Tony’s voice comes through the other end of the phone, and he swears he can hear more crackling than usual. It might just be the snow drifting outside messing with the nearby towers and powerlines.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m right here.” His voice comes out even smaller than intended.

“Can I call you back? I need to call May now, and— Morgan, you can’t use scissors on the bubbles! ”

A sense of familiarity washes over Peter, and he succumbs to the feeling of safeness associated with Tony and Morgan. He’d been too close to death already. He was dead. And after navigating life without Tony for a while, he piled each responsibility like building blocks, a delicate glass structure he could shatter at any given moment, and Mysterio took a hammer to the glass. Thanos buried his glass structure, leaving part of him under with it.

“Yeah, Tony. Talk to you later. Miss you, too.”

The rest of the night goes on, and May prepares them all hot chocolate before she heads off upstairs to take a hot shower. The uneasiness never settled inside of him, a nemesis unwilling to leave him alone.

His heart thrums wildly in his chest, his hands shake and feel numb, and he wonders why .

Is it his body’s reaction to having to spend a few nights away from the city during their holiday trip, unable to patrol? Is it lingering stress from senior year, that he and May haven’t properly celebrated all of Hanukkah yet?

He must be incapable of relaxing, turning back to the couch where he’s curled up with 4 of his friends watching Home Alone 2.

“Hey, is anyone else’s toes feeling numb?” he turns to the group, watching them blearily blink at the TV from exhaustion.

“Your toes are numb ?” Flash asks from beside him on the floor, leaning against the couch with his head tilted to the side. He has no idea how that could be comfortable at all.

“Yeah, numb.”

He needed to keep talking to someone, hearing his friends talk, too. It might just be anxiety, or his PTSD symptoms bothering him. After Europe, the school forced everyone on the trip to attend at least one counseling session, and Murdock and Nelson had suggested the same when they took on the case early-autumn.

He wanted to take the advice, especially since it meant so much to May.

The cabin’s living room TV is quietly playing a documentary about the dangers of climate change and the remarkable effects the current generation will face when Peter’s jolted awake, his heart thudding in his chest and his alertness draws him from his sleep. He must’ve fallen asleep when he was in between MJ and Betty a couple of hours ago, he’s covered in a blanket and feels a pillow that wasn’t there before, supporting his neck- May’s doing- and it’s now when he realizes MJ isn’t beside him anymore, there’s too big of a gap on the couch.

He stills, not wanting to call out her name if she’s just using the bathroom or went back to her guestroom. Peter reaches his head over to check the time on the TV clock, and it’s nearing 2:30AM. The anxious feeling of danger looming in the distance, of now being watched returns and he needs to run some sort of perimeter check, maybe they have security--

“Peter!” he hears a distant shout from outside, a girl’s shout— and he immediately blanches. MJ .

His heart rate picks up, and he kicks the blanket off of him and stands. The snow is falling heavily outside, still, never seeming to let up and blocks out the nearby street lamps and backyard lamps. “MJ?!”

He turns to check if his whispering disturbed the others yet, but he decides he’ll go investigate first. He’s Spider-Man, he can head outside to check for her.

He turns to grab his oversized winter coat and his snow boots when he notices the backyard sliding door’s open— where he must’ve heard the scream from.

“Guys!” Peter shouts into the quiet living room, interrupting the warm peace from the TV playing and whatever phase of their sleep cycle there in. “Wake up! I think MJ”s outside!”

Peter runs out into the cold, a gust of wind hitting him immediately and causes his whole body to shiver while he shrugs his coat on for 25 centimeters of snow. It reaches his mid-calves and it seeps into his pants, each frozen entity stinging him and dragging him down into the ground while he runs— he doesn’t know where he’s running to, but his throat goes raw from screaming for MJ.

Frustrated none of his friends woke up in the wake of his own panic, his senses are screaming at him, danger, danger, danger , he’s too cold, his heart feels frozen. The low hum of his senses dial all the way to his limit. He screams and falls into a pile of snow on the ground, hiding himself from the danger that doesn’t seem to be there. Yet.

“MJ, where are you?” he screams, his mouth betraying him with the sound of wrecked sobs, desperacy ready to escape him, his eyes are wide and terrified. He gets back up, swaying on his own feet and he’s inhaling too many snowflakes, they’re everywhere.

He needs to find MJ, right now. She could be out here completely alone, but his senses won’t tell him where --

Before he can reach her piercing scream, the lamp post next to him flickers on, illuminated in green. His heart stops, and he feels the bile rising up inside of him.

No, no, no, no— not him, he’s supposed to be dead- wait, no, he’s supposed to be in prison—

Peter watches in pure anguish as the snow picks up, dangerous icicles falling from the lamp post and sky pierce his skin and he steps forward behind the shadows of the moonlight and snow, towering over him in his old suit he thought was destroyed. Was evidence, locked away to never be touched again.

Except it flickers away, into a cloud of smoke.

Maybe he’s hallucinating because he’s sick? He’s tired?

He has only gotten eight hours of sleep in the last three days, but what drove him so mad he came out here to the snow , the blizzard that seems to never let up-- the one that Mr. Stark mentioned-- is sending a small snowstorm to the boroughs of New York. Must be due to Global Warming.

The hum of a drone is loud, careening and he ducks his head before it strikes him, it nearly catches him and his breath won’t come out past the burning and aching in his throat.

Honestly, Peter assumed he’d be dead by now, no one telling him a word to protect him. Or, would it protect him even further to tell the truth that he is hidden away, rotting in a cell, truly plotting against him like Foggy Nelson said not to worry too much about.

“If you wanna save your city, you’re gonna need to come with me,” the familiar voice announces into the middle of the night, pushing him past his threshold of sanity and sends a wracking shiver down his spine and arms.

“I’m not really here, no, where would the fun in that be?” he replies smugly, probably watching from around the corner while Peter frantically runs back to the snow cabin to secure his family. “I need you to find me.”

He can only think about MJ, if this is an illusion she must be safe. What if he’s truly lying, crawling out of a grave somewhere in Manhattan where he was buried. Forgotten about. Rotting. For the last few months, he’s been here. Around every corner, lingering, falling behind every alleyway light to stay hidden. Quentin Beck has been the one watching him, it probably isn’t paranoid tendencies.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, get back inside NOW!” May shouts from behind him, his neck twisting to catch sight of her. His hands shake while he fishes somewhere in his pockets for his phone, hoping it didn’t get buried in the snow where he fell.

He feels heavy, like there’s two tons weighing over him and pulling him down into the ground even further, the slush eating away at his boots.

“May! Get away!” Peter shouts, his voice too raspy to be understood. “Find MJ inside!”

“Aw, Peter. Don’t worry about them, they’ll be safe right here, in the warm cabin under their warm blankets. Let’s hope the fireplace doesn’t catch anything around it, though,” Beck chuckles. “I think that’d be even enough for you getting me killed.”

“Killed? ” he exasperatedly asks, navigating his way back to the cabin and freezing in the dark. “You’re still alive. All of those people you killed in Europe are not .”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Beck says sharply, appearing right behind him. He can see him better this time, his hair is slightly grown out but gelled to the side. He’s wearing a black coat over this old shitty suit, completely concealed by his jacket. He clings to his helmet at his right side, Peter watches the inside fill up with snow.

Every miniscule detail, he can’t believe it. He can’t be here in front of him.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You know, I couldn’t wait any longer. You don’t deserve the title of Spider-Man, your big family. It was a big mistake letting them continue to believe Peter Parker is Spider-Man.”

“Because I will protect them. You can’t underestimate me, I got away from you last time. And now?” Peter steps towards Beck, going farther away from the snow cabin. “You can take me. Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Beck’s voice is layered in eagerness, like a child. “I’ll show you what I want and what I’m doing.

“And if you don’t? Millions  are going to pay for what you did. You know, that Jester King, Tony Stark, he really played me when he played dead for months. He did. He takes my holographic system, I take it back from him through you. You try to get me murdered, now I take away what you love most.

“What I want?” he says, finger tapping on his chin in amusement. “That’s bringing you down along with everyone you love. Excuse me, I mean, after I bring down everyone you love.”

Beck signals a drone over to him, smiling pointedly and gleefully as he waves a projection over, projecting New York City in a small screen in between them. There’s barely any snow covering the city like the forecasts predicted, and he swallows hard for what’s about to happen.

If he was capable of all the infrastructure damage to Europe, each disaster caused by G-ddamn drones, he’s capable of bringing down a few boroughs in New York City.

He stares at Beck, refusing to look down at the projection in front of him. At this point, his clothes clings to him and if he isn’t hypothermic, he thinks he will be soon. This isn’t part of his illusion tech, no. This time it’s real.

“Come on, Pete!” Beck yells cheerfully, nudging his shoulder roughly to turn back to the drone. “Where’s the fun in it if you don’t get to see what’s gonna happen, huh?”

He calculates his options, watching from his peripheral the snow attack the city. Shouts are emitted from the drone. “At least it’s not like Europe! I have no problem using more of my illusion tech here, but I’ve got a show waiting for you in Manhattan.”

Peter stares hard at the screen, anger and malice replacing every other feeling he’s felt up to now. He thinks back to his illusions and what he knows , he’s been sitting on top of every secret about him, hoarding them, using them to manipulate them before and knowing his secrets work against him.

“Here, I’ll take you there through one of my drones. So you’ll know what it’ll feel like to be on 85th when I destroy it.”

Peter’s hidden in plain view under a fire escape, it’s 2AM in the city, but he can hear all the people that are outside. Dogs being walked late at night, late-night epiphanies happening on fire escapes in the light snow, taxi-drivers in the middle of their shifts, the nearby hospital emergency room full of trauma cases from car accidents from the slippery snow. It’s the quietest he’s heard in New York, and he’s looking around and making sure nobody’s lurking around any corners. He needs to give Beck what he wants, and get out of here to get to the real New York.

“Beck, NO!” he hears Ned scream from above him, and he runs from under the coverage of the fire escape and into the middle of the grimey alleyway to see Ned tethering on the edge of the 30 meter building. “You can’t do this, it’s not fair!”

Beck appears behind Ned, and he panics in search of his web shooter attachments and comes up short. He’s still in his soaked clothes from the snow cabin. “Peter! You’ve gotta help m—”

Peter screams Ned’s name, crawling up the building as far as he can before he can leap out to catch Ned. He misses, and Ned collapses to the ground.

An illusion, this isn’t real, none of this is real. It’s not real. Not real.

He gasps and tumbles onto the ground, landing back at the snow cabin.

“Let’s play another one, you haven’t seen the best part!”

He’s standing on a highrise building, in his Spider-Man suit, and he knows it’s still an illusion. The snow is falling even heavier than it did at the snow cabin, but it’s covering pedestrians walking around late at night or very early in the morning. Random people still out eating, teenagers skipping curfew, people leaving their office jobs far too late deemed acceptable

The snow covers the cars , and he can hear emergency coverage playing on radios and TV’s while the city falls into a panic over Beck’s illusions. The snow is it’s true amount, but he’s redirecting it everywhere through the stupid drones. He’s playing an illusion on his city.

He hears a child scream out for Spider-Man’s help, his daddy’s stuck under a car and he won’t stop bleeding. He’s trapped on this high-rise beam, paralyzed by something. Why can’t he just leap down, shoot his webs, he can see all the coverage he has to get to. Now.

He gasps when he feels two hands on his back, shoving him forward in anger. He sees Flash, balancing with him on this yellow beam full of venom as he says, “This is all your fucking fault!’

He listens, watching with his jaw dropped because he’s too stupid to do anything else. He doesn’t have anywhere to run, he brings his hands to his ears and shuts his eyes tight, he’s guessing what Beck’s putting illusion-Flash up to. This seems too simple, but he doesn’t want to play his chances. He wishes his city could see him right now, he’s their beacon, they aren’t collectively helpless.

“I’m done, Beck!” Peter shouts over the whistling wind and heavy snow. “I’m not running. You don’t have to do this.”

Darkness falls around him, it covers him and the snow, and Beck’s gone. His body’s equilibrium is off from being out in this avalanche, the snow now nearly up to his waist is pure agonizing wetness. There’s no more Manhattan skylines, or a cityscape at all, no more traumatized Flash, only the cabin with the porch light on.

Peter turns on his heels, running through the thick snow, holding onto himself, and starts racing in the snow. He keeps his eyes wide open despite the snow seeping into his eyes, he’s gone, the paranoia died down, the feeling of being watched simmered away like a light burning out. His legs feel like two tons of steel are weighing them down, and launches himself inside the door to find May, Ned, Flash, and to see if MJ is here.

He can almost sense where things are, he scoops a pile of snow off of his face and litters it to the ground, shrugging his jacket off which might be his worst decision of the night, his eyes feel blindfolded by the sleet.

“May!” Peter yells, holding back a sob sitting in the back of his throat, his voice quivering. “P-please. Please tell me you’re okay.”

He picks his lead feet up, waiting for an answer. He can sense bodies nearby, so they're here in the perimeter, but his senses have gone haywire after his encounter with the drone and Beck. Whatever frequency and illusions he uses, he feels less keyed now and less like he’s going to wake up from this nightmare.

He feels real.

“Baby?” he hears May whisper at the top of the stairs, now noticing the upstairs light flickered on and illuminating the living room and the stairs. He’s sisyphus climbing the stairs, his own body betraying him, and this is his punishment. Too weak to move right now, too weak to go hug May. To go tell his friends everything’s gonna be okay.

“It- it was him, May. I saw him,” Peter whispers, elation and adrenaline still coursing through his body. “He’s alive, I mean you already knew that but-- May, he was here. I have to go.”

“Peter,” May says carefully, lifting her arm that was protectively holding Ned back. He’s crying in a steady stream watching them at the top of the stairs from the bottom, he’s his own impossible boulder. He can’t reach them. He can’t get to the top.

She’s careful in her tone. “Why did you go outside? What did you see?”

“May, you have to believe me. I need to go to Manhattan— I have to send Mr. Stark a message and you-- you guys need protection,” he rambles breathlessly, half of his words ununciated, “I can’t let you guys die.”

“Okay, Peter,” May confirms, and he’s never seen her look so sad. She’s covered in moonlight, she’s backlit by the upstairs light, but he can’t see her eyes clearly like he usually can. And, oh fuck, he thought this was real— “Name five things you can see right now. Just five.”

“I— May, no, I need your car keys. I need my suit,” he says, watching his friends faces fall and hears their heartbeats pick up. “And MJ, she’s okay? She was screaming, and--”

May sighs, resigning, and takes a few steps down the stairs to meet his eyes. “Baby, are you having an episode?”

“May, no!—“

“I can help. We can all help. Nobody’s judging you, I know you didn’t find the best coping mechanisms, but—“

“Call Tony. Please. For me.”

“Okay,” May says, running a hand through his soaked curls and he feels her shaking movements, and he gently catches her hand.

“I’m so sorry, I brought this here.” He glances up at his friends, watching their own storms on their own faces, the aching, the fear caused by him. Ned’s quietly crying now, keeping his face as stoic as he can.

“Go, Peter. I’ll set security up around the perimeter,” Ned whispers bravely, swallowing back tears. “Just.. Can you tell us what you saw outside?”

Peter’s mind instantly flashes back to Ned’s body on the pavement in the illusion, and swallows the bile back down but allows more tears to fall. “I— He made an illusion about MJ. About all of you. Everyone was inside except for her. He’s in New York. Just like Foggy said.”

He turns outside to face outside, and it’s nearly morning now. The sun hides far on the low horizon, not daring to rise yet but is still covered by snowfall.

May finally relented, grabbing her cellphone to get in touch with Mr. Stark and Nelson and Murdock. It was Claire who answered first, insisting she talk to Peter. Her worries over the phone brought a wave of nausea over him, she described New York right now. There’s hail and snow slides and blizzards which should be impossible in their terrain. Peter tore his clothes off and put his suit on, feeling idiotic for wearing a jacket over his spider suit. Ned sets up his own perimeter check, signaling and coding spider-drones to confirm the validity of Beck’s own drones and keep an eye out for unwanted visitors.

He web swings 100,000 meters back to the city, internally thanking May for convincing Mr. Stark to only send them into upstate New York, not too far out into the mountains and terrain.

For once, the Parker Luck might be working on his side once he thwips off of the Statue of Liberty and soars through air with his webs and wings, back out towards the nearest island’s edge. He promises himself to come out here more often, especially in the snow. Whatever New York borough Beck is in, he isn’t nearby Ellis island, and his senses continue to buzz.

New York’s loveable grizzled seen-too-much detective is back in his home city, and he web-swings across vast swaths of water into his city through the heavy snow.

Beck lied to him. He had trusted him. He destroyed his image, causing him to flee from his real life for months . He told him he was a disappointment, and his goodness was a weakness. He watches teenagers play in Washington Square Park, tourists crawling to the nearest safe spots, and ice skaters somehow skating this late at night/early in the morning.

He swings off of the nearest building, listening out for an intel on Beck and he races through Manhattan. It’s an obstacle course for Beck, but not for Peter.

He hears a nearby construction site and a low groaning, something not good. If he reaches these construction sites with free equipment lying around for him to use, he needs to stop him in time before doing anything too drastic. He’s hoping his setup is randomized drones, secured away from the population like in the terminal he last fought him in.

But he knows this is highly unlikely.

Spider-Man finds Beck easily, scanning the construction site for any heat signatures, easily finding him and the drones. How he wanted to be found, near the heart of Manhattan.

“I must be honest, I am so glad to see you again, Petey,” Beck says, voice distorted and warped while he slowly walks further into the construction site, mapping each drop to the floor below or opening above, and each window covered in tarp. “My abilities, my talent, they can’t be stolen from me again.”

Peter turns, scanning via his suit for any signs of Beck, but his ocular scans come back distorted and something lands in front of him, his senses screaming at him at the last possible second and he stumbles into the ground.

Beck’s voice disappears further into the building, and he tries to follow it. He veers left, in a crouch and stumbles into storage bins. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Admittedly, not for too long, but long enough.”

Peter’s warped back into the city, green gases swirling in the air and black fog consuming the city. No matter how hard it is to stay grounded, he stumbles into the nearest buildings, cars, and people.

“It’s not real,” he whispers to himself, not quite believing it.

“It’s going to be a shame when many people here will have to die, with Spider-Man buried in the snow,” his voice rings to his right, then above him. He sees Beck walking in the shadows of the plot, he follows as closely behind as he can.

Beck disappears above him, and he launches webs onto the nearest pillar, beaming up to the next floor. He leads himself through a new haze of fog, it spans wide and far and out into the real city where real residents live. He runs down a narrow hall, turning a corner into a wider area and sees Beck leading himself outside. He’s a few stories up, and can see Beck standing one story up from the ground.

“Stark wanted to use me. He did use me. Now, your precious lawyers want to destroy my life,” Beck sounds echoey, and it’s freaking him out, because how far away is everybody? Does he need to contact anyone else, like the PD?

“And where were you, Peter?” Beck asks, voice rising and thunderous, “ Living lavishly, spoiled, wealthily like a trust fund kid.”

Spider-Man jumps another floor down, sending another array of webs around the pillars of the building. He placed webbing on all three floors, following Beck’s path back down into the city where the lights will go dark.

“You knew what you were in for, kid, yet you fled,” Beck says bitterly, and he watches the green mist form back around him in his signature suit and helmet. “You couldn’t save yourself, you’re a cancer spreading in this city.”

“You will be exiled for what you did to me, and there will be no return back this time. You will have nobody to save you from your own track record.”

He internally yells, finding another structure to throw his webs. He needs a netting for when the infrastructure falls, undoing Mysterio’s work.

It’s dark, snow flurries escape from outside the plot, and Peter stills once he sees a pile of dead bodies in front of him. He can’t see his city like this, he refuses to get to this aftermath. He turns and runs to a quick stop in front of Beck on the walkway outside.

“I will bring this entire city down, do NOT underestimate me!” Mysterio shouts into the sky, the snow falling heavier into the city illuminated by the glow of the pink sunrise. “Just watch me do it.”

“I won’t let you!” Spider-Man yells, attacking the first drone Mysterio sets in front of him. He casts his webs onto it, launching it into Mysterio. He hears yelps from below, hoping everyone takes the hint and leaves, no matter their commute.

“I said I WILL destroy your city,” Mysterio outcries, sending a thunderous wave of force into the ground, shaking the perimeter and the building’s core.

“ Uh-oh, ” he panics, flipping off the ground and avoiding the skittering and electrical impulses he sends waves of. He’s electrocuted, and he scrambles back far, watching big chunks of cement fall off of each floor's foundation, and he gasps as he tries to catch each piece before it lands onto the street below.

They’re on top of the high rise now, the top of U.N. headquarters, right at the edge. He gasps, watching the plot they were just in a few moments ago crumble to the ground. The screams from the street below ache his bones, and he’s too far away, no—

He’s right inside, but he can’t fucking see where he is, if he walks forward he’ll fall off the building, he’s sure of it. There aren’t any grips for his webs, and he shakes along with the front. There’s more cold wind, sending chills throughout his body. He sees May holding onto the edge of the building, he recognizes her rings. Her fingers desperately cling for life, her blood curdling screams rush into his ears. Everything below them is so small, and he steps closer to the edge of the building where the snow drifts down below them.

This isn’t real.

Beck is playing him, again, and he’s somehow winning right now. He sucks a breath in through his nose, shuts his eyes, and remembers the fate of New York is in his hands. It’s out of Tony’s, out of the PD’s, out of everyone else’s hands but his. It’s his uphill battle, and he hopes the boulder doesn’t fall over the edge.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he aims his arms nefariously to catch each boulder, hears each gust of wind and each terrifying pull of gravity giving the boulder more energy, and he strikes each boulder to stop from collapsing the building.

Mysterio’s making him vulnerable again, and the curtain’s close in front of him. He sprints into the dark before anything can appear, thwipping his webs out into the Manhattan buildings now that the construction site is taken care of.

He listens out for Beck, listening to the buzzing carrying him away in real life, making the city more vulnerable the further he goes.

May is counting on him. She was certain he was having a paranoid episode, and it probably contributed to what he saw, but they’re counting on him. The real Mysterio is right here, heart drumming wildly from his adrenaline. He has no room for error again/

He ignores an incoming phone call from Matt in his mask, catching up to Mysterio transporting to below the Chrysler building. He thrusts his entire body into the velocity of his webs, falling dangerously slow to the ground and ascends straight into the heavy snow.

Spider-Man catches up to Beck on a new rooftop, taking a giant leap off of the Chrysler building to the supporting one below. He glides, landing on the rooftop. He’ll never be tired of the feeling of falling, the snow emulating the act even more and he moves faster.

He runs into him from above, tackling Mysterio to the ground.

Mysterio’s upgraded tech clatters across the ground, and the storm does not clear at all. None of the hail stops, the buildings shake in anticipation for a disastrous fall. Peter sees stars when he swings his arm back, landing a punch on him and immediately getting striked in the head by a drone.

Beck grabs Peter by the neck, using his size on him to slam his head back into the brick wall of the building. He kicks himself off the wall, tackling him and hits him. He strikes, producing red, blue, and purple contusions that the snow can’t cover now. He attempts to yank his helmet off to strike more skin, avoiding drone strikes surrounding him.

“She’s ready!” Mysterio shouts, shoving Spider-Man off and he’s too frozen to strike any of the drones now in formation, in an arrow.

Like a deck of cards shuffling, he watches a new scene in front of him, where his webbing failed and crushed a few dozen meters of buildings crushed under rubble, dust and snow swirling in the sky while the city bursts into haunting tears.

Spider-Man quickly recovers, shaking under his webbing that attaches to the drones, flying at full force. He tries to web them all up, but they relentlessly demolish and set flame to each high-rise nearby. He watches the city crumble, the tarmac of the streets withering under destruction, and he watches helpless people fall into these abysses along with cars and tons of snow, and he tugs on his webs.

“S..See, I was ri—ght, I will kill everyone you love— we will be back.”

He stops one drone, but halts to a stop when the drones crash into another building. He hooks Beck’s suit into a drone, finally having the upperhand and more leverage on the older man. He uses his free hand to grab the helmet, slamming his face into the drone repeatedly, watching the glass break and shatter, cutting him up.

Peter continues to land blows to the face, red blooming and turning to blues and purples around his face. His nose is bloodied, his mouth is ripped apart, and glass shards cut him further. He hopes his head slumps forward, watching an avalanche in the distance makes it way towards fucking Manhattan. His own chest flickers in pain, and he looks down to see the suit torn in half at his chest to reveal a pool of blood thickening. He checks to see if Beck is unconscious, they can hardly hold onto the crashing drones in flight.

He presses the controls, any, hoping to override his coding and deactivate them. This is all too familiar, he must be behind him, waiting. He’s hauled through the sky, grazed against each apartment complex and school and office buildings. He’s woozy, spinning in the air at a high velocity and they begin to crash head-on into FEAST, and his heart lurches.

He sees black.

He’s buried deep in the snow, searching for a pocket of air to breathe through and begin digging from. He can’t feel his hands, but he blindly flops around, trying his hardest to hold his screaming back and failing. His suit is soaked through, offline, and the seams tore and burned his skin with pure frozen snow.

He gasped, not remembering if Matt called back or not, did he ever answer the call? Was the call an illusion? He hears more blood curdling screams surrounding him, and this is real. Not an illusion. Real, real, or.. Fake?

He screams into the dark, the irony of the white-reflecing snow drenching him in blackness. Pounding fear in his body, his veins giving up on him, his cells killing him. Frozen. Only fear courses through each neuron and each cell.

Not knowing if Beck destroyed his city, his family—

He needs out, maybe this is an illusion. Is he back to a few months ago, not believing anything is real? He didn’t see Beck, but he heard him, he should be dead from those drones.

He stares into the finally relenting sky, wondering if he escaped his sisyphus destiny. His vision falls into another illusion, everything’s black, but no this is real, he’s real. He succumbs to exhaustion instead.

His body feels too heavy, he slumps down weakly and lies on his left side.

“I just said, found him outside of FEAST--”

“And what the hell were you doing there?--”

“Does it matter? I called him, he ignored me, and we knew the consequences when we agreed to take on this case--”

“Matt, it’s alright. Foggy, take a breath. You both handled it well.”

He’s in a car. The low hum soothes his aching body and it smells like clorox and blood in here.

“He lost a lot of blood on the scene, he’s hypothermic, for hell’s sake! Do not antagonize me right now.--”

“—We’re not!—“

“He’s a kid. He doesn’t deserve this. Matt, this is extraordinarily worse than when I found you half dead on your couch, already writing your eulogy because I didn’t think I could save you. You were doing it all alone, and I—“

He hears cloth moving around, probably a hand rubbing their back.

“We have it handled.”

“What do you mean handled?! You mean a just as self-sacrificial vigilante clad in red that’s a total maniac? Possible psychopath mercenary? With pool in their name?!”

“Foggy, calm down before your artery bursts.”

Pans clattering and humans talking around him awoke him, and he could’ve sworn he was just at Nelson and Murdock’s law firm in search of a first-aid kit. The talking is what he becomes most aware of when he returns slowly to consciousness, able to feel his limbs.

“Hmfh,” he hums, burying himself further into the warmer clothing he’s wearing and the familiar Hello Kitty blanket a 6 year old he knows owns. The pillows feel like homes, though.

“Welcome back, walking dead,” Tony greets, waving someone over from beside him. He’s walking in from around the corner where the kitchen is, a familiar smell of his favorite chocolate babka simmering through the air. Tony sits down beside him, feeling the couch cushion sink down. He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his shoulder and sighing. Peter props himself up on one elbow, his smile returning when he sees May run into the room and tackle him into the couch cushions with a hug.

“I’m so sorry for not believing you, honey,” May tears up, pulling back to take a closer look at him. He’s hyper aware of his surroundings, his memories slowly fade back in. He sees the confusion run across her face, and she makes no move to bring it up. “You did so good.”

The next few days result in the same ways. He’s bedbound for now, receiving updates by his own lawyers that the city isn’t suing him for damages this time and that local vigilantes and authorities are cleaning up the city. He was an open book to his family and friends, splayed out for all of them to pick, poke, and prod at.

Even with the best intentions, they were overbearing.

He spent most of his newfound freetime continuing his part-time jobs. His photography job at the Daily Bugle is allowing him, graciously, to write articles in the meantime he’s out of photo-commission. He picked up writing articles for Nelson and Murdock, who were still a mess.

He and May both had many emotions over this, what this meant for his recovery, and how he won’t put his recovery on the back-burner.

They all avoid talking about him. Where he is, what happened. News articles never seem to reach him.

Closer to Christmas during the time his friends celebrated, he can’t help but feel isolated and the paranoia coils through him once again. He needs to begin recovery slowly, because he can’t handle being separated from Tony, Pepper, and Morgan currently, and especially May when she leaves for work or to pick up groceries.

Despite receiving a scholarship to MIT, all of his trauma probably counts out any chance of college anytime soon. He doubts he can go back to being a normal person, preparing every possible scenario for when he returns, and he feels like begging on his knees for help. He and May pass more time saving up for tuition money, just in case.

He’s safe now. He’s home. He waits for the other shoe to drop. For the boulder to fall off the top of the cliff.

[wwwafflewrites]

Better Late Than Never

Tied up in a shapeshifter's den, arms above your head, you have a lot of time to think. The monster left you for dead, as monsters do. You thought about the numbness in your arms and the hollowness of your stomach, but mostly, you thought of the Winchesters. You wondered where they were, what they were doing, or if they were even looking for you.

After days of nothing but silence, you finally heard footsteps. You wanted to sit up and say something, anything, but your fighting energy had left you by now. Your muscles protested from hours spent kicking and straining again the bonds. Time at this point was meaningless, but soon it claimed itself over you, putting you through its trials. Dehydration could cause one hell of a headache.

The Winchesters found you bloody, two days too late. And God, they probably were beating themselves up about it. They ran in, guns blazing, but there was only you, half awake and feverish.

Your vision was tunneling, only making out two dark shapes in the dim sewer light. At first, you thought it was the shapeshifter and one of his buddies, coming back to ruin your life with your best friends' faces. It was just enough to make you weakly pull at your bonds, shaking your head.

But warm hands cupped your face, and you looked into their eyes, and their eyes were full of fear. Fear for you.

"Dean, she's alive!"

The ropes were cut in a second, as if they were nothing, as if you hadn't been pulling at them for days. You slumped into Dean's hard body and just breathed the smell of leather in. The smell of the Impala. The smell of home.

You sagged in relief. "S-Sa—m. Dean—"

"Shh, don't talk," Dean said. “It's okay.”

Dean was overly careful, waving his gun around the halls. But the sewer was empty. You knew it was. The only noise present was the constant dripping that had driven you crazy for two days straight.

Sam picked you up, resting your head on his shoulder. You saw a panorama of your prison, and the multiple piles of skin left to rot on the concrete, just as you had been.

You closed your eyes, nauseous by the new movement. Your stomach churned with what little it had in it, and you suddenly felt sick. You tried breathing through it for a minute, knowing that this would just make their lives harder, but it only became progressively worse.

"Sam," you said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna be sick."

He was quick, you'd give him that. You found yourself palms down on the floor, harshly breathing as your body worked you up, and then you were dry heaving. Not even with a bucket or a toilet to hide in. Fingers threaded through your hair, gently holding it back. All that came out was bile, but you were so embarrassed and weak and disgusted with yourself.

You muttered after a beat, "At least… it's just a sewer."

Sam and Dean didn't respond. They were exchanging worried glances from behind you, and you didn't even need to see them to know they were there.

///

You almost immediately fell asleep in the Impala, which was rather pathetic because all you'd been doing lately was sleep. You needed to eat and bathe, but all your body craved was rest.

You got little snapshots of time; like where you felt hands maneuvering you in the backseat, buckling you in, and offering you his leather jacket as a makeshift pillow; or you hearing their concerned murmurs against the low hum of the radio; or hands tucking you into a soft bed. They seemed to alternate, taking turns on who helps you through the next task.

When you first fully woke up, you felt barely lucid. Sam had nudged you awake, convincing you to have some water, a few crackers, and finish some soup he had brought. It was slow going, but you managed to keep it down. He was very patient, running a kind hand up and down your back and murmuring encouraging words when your shaky hands dropped the spoon, or you felt too weak to even sit up anymore.

The last time you woke up, you felt a lot better. But holy hell did you need to pee.

The clock said midnight, so you tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door as silently as possible. You knew they were probably catching a few winks, which they hardly ever got in the first place, not to mention after babysitting you.

It felt good to be up, and to be a little more active. You still felt weak, but this was definitely progress.

Your reflection said otherwise. As you were washing your hands, you examined the bags around your eyes and your pale skin. You grimaced at your ghostly reflection. You looked like hell.

You thought you had been quiet, but not five minutes after entering the bathroom, there was a soft knock on the door. "You alright in there?" It was Dean.

You dried your hands quickly on the towel and opened the door. "Yeah. I actually feel a lot better. Thank you guys. For everything."

He rubbed his hand along his neck, and his mouth twitched like he didn't quite agree. "Not everything. We—I mean, we got you captured in the first place. The least we could do is help you get back on your feet."

You leaned against the doorway, biting your lip. "How long was I out?"

"Five days. You've been kind of out of it. I think Sam's sick of having soup," he joked.

You knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn't imagine how long you must have been for them. Five days?

"We would have taken you to the hospital, but the FBI was on our tail. It was… bad. You were—it was all just a mess." Dean sighed.

Just then, Sam walked in the hall. He must have been in the kitchen and heard you talking. "You're awake," he said.

"Yeah. I have you two to thank."

They both winced. Sam shook his head. "Seriously, don't thank us. We're just glad you're safe now."

You gave them a stern look. "This was more my fault than yours. I got my ass captured." You shifted. "Besides, five days over a little dehydration?"

"It wasn't just dehydration. The shapeshifter was transfering your thoughts and behavior to itself," Dean told you. “It's physically and mentally draining.”

"Then how come you didn't get like this in St.Louis with that other shapeshifter?"

"You were gone for two days. Dean was gone for two hours. When we found you..." Sam trailed off, collecting himself. "You were close to death.” His face crumpled. “ We thought you were when we first found you."

"It scared the hell out of us," Dean added. "We looked everywhere. It was by luck that we thought of the sewer. Thank God we did." He looked you up and down, then to Sam, then to you again. Carefully, he asked, “You hungry?”

You nodded, but became perplexed by the sudden mood change. Was that a glimmer in Dean’s eye?

"Do you think you can stomach a burger?"

"Hell yeah. I'm starving. I could have two."

You both shared a child-like smile before Dean grabbed your arm, and you both darted off to the kitchen, leaving Sam to process what you just said. 

"Wait! No! I am definitely vetoing that! You can’t have burgers at midnight!"

"Okay, Samantha!" There was a pause. "Do you want cheddar or swiss? You want bacon?"

"Cheddar all the way. And, hells yes, I want bacon."

"Dean! No!"

"Dean, yes!"