#let’s Steve settle down with a woman who’d already done that

[romanoffsbish]

MCU is good at one thing: Unnecessarily killing women.

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Chores

[The Owl House] Amity Blight x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.05k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Mentions of overworking, but that's pretty much it.

[A/N]: Story 3/3 for Amity! I'll be writing for Boscha next.

At the time I’ve finished this and proofread it before scheduling, we’re at 110 followers, so I just wanted to quickly say thank you! I hope you’ll enjoy my content as much as I enjoy creating it.

Enjoy!

 An occasional strained grunt filled the small space in between the idle chatter of citizens and workers. Lilith turned from her conversation with Steve, her gaze landing over to the source of the grunting. Amity, just a few feet away, was tugging at a rope in an attempt to lift a large wall skillfully tied to the other end. She seemed to struggle too much for a moment, but before anyone could step in to help her, her hand lifted enough for her to cast a spell circle and summon an Abomination. Two much larger hands joined hers on the rope and gave a hefty tug, finally allowing the wall to lift with ease. Once it was set in place, Amity sighed in relief, shrugging and rolling her shoulders back to ease the already growing tension.

She stared up at the work that had been done so far: three of four walls had been lifted, two of which were set in place against their designated pillars. Just one more left to go, then the Construction Coven would finish it off by tidying the design for the roof and building it on their shift. Hands on her hips, Amity smiled. They certainly had made a good amount of progress on the newest sets of households for those who’d had their previous home destroyed during the Collector’s reign of terror and Belos’s eventual defeat.

Thinking of all of the citizens who would once again be able to call somewhere home brought an even wider grin to her lips. Her mind wandered back to her own home–which she shared with her girlfriend [Y/N]. The mere thought of the girl made Amity feel warm and relaxed. She wished she was home with her in that moment. She knew, however, that she had to play her part in the reconstruction of the Isles. It had been months since she had been able to convince herself to take a day off. She was upset by it, but her guilt for not helping the others certainly combatted those feelings. It was a battle everyday about whether or not she should just stay home.

A quick yelp unwillingly slipped past her lips as a hand dropped onto her shoulder and squeezed. She turned, startled, but settled again when she saw her former mentor Lilith standing there. Her eyebrows were creased in concern. “Amity, you look exhausted. Why don’t you take a break for today? We’ve got it from here.” Amity smiled softly up at her and waved it off, gently lifting Lilith’s hand from her shoulder and letting it drop back down to her side. “No, it’s alright. I can keep working.” A frown crossed the Clawthorne’s features.

“I understand that you feel as though you have to help out all day everyday, but I can assure you it’s alright to take breaks here and there. I haven’t seen this many bags under your eyes since your mother had you competing for grades and status in school.” Again, Amity waved, this time shaking her head. “I promise I’m good to work like this. I feel guilty anytime I take a break anyway. I’d much rather be here.”

“You’d rather be here than at home with [Y/N]?”

Now silent, Amity glanced down at her feet and let her gloved fingertips scratch lightly at the back of her neck. “Well, no, but–” “Then go spend time with her. I’m sure she misses you. I mean, you’re gone so much. Please just take the rest of the week off, alright? No one will be upset with you for it. They’ll understand. And besides, you’ve done plenty already. It’s not as if you haven’t been efficient in your work.” The younger woman seemed unsure at the mention of taking the week off. It had been so long since she had taken even half of a day as a break–and that alone had her guilt eating away at her conscience–how would she survive an entire week?

“I couldn’t,” came her reply after a moment.

“Amity, at this point, it’s not a question anymore. It’s a request–an order. Not only am I worried about how little time you spend at home, I’m also worried about your health. When’s the last time you sat down to eat a proper meal and just relax?”

Amity wracked her brain to find the example, though she couldn’t, and ultimately sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll take tomorrow off, but could I at least finish up my work here for the day?” Lilith’s glare sharpened. “Only if you take the rest of the week off. Not just tomorrow. Deal?” Another sigh of defeat. She truly didn’t want to feel as though she was letting these people down. “Deal.”

The rest of the day had gone by rather quickly, much to Amity’s dismay. She wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the week. She felt as though she constantly had to be helping out in some way, always searching for approval and praise. After all that had happened, she thought she had moved past feeling like she needed to prove herself for merely existing, but it was hard to break a habit she had been in her entire life. It seemed to be getting better though–at least, when it didn’t come to reconstruction.

As everyone wrapped up for the night and began to disperse towards their own homes, Amity found herself fastening her tool belt more sluggishly than normal. Her eyebrow raised at this, though her silent question of, “why is it so hard to move?” was answered as she yawned. After wiping her watery eyes from the yawn, she grumbled under her breath about feeling horrible. Just as she turned to head home with her staff underneath her, Lilith called out to her. “Amity, remember to take the rest of the week off! If I find you working somewhere aside from home, I’ll be sure to tell [Y/N], and you know she won’t let you leave until you rest.”

Amity nodded and waved in acknowledgment before signaling for Ghost to float up and head home.

By the time she made it home, Amity was almost too fatigued to even make it up to the doorstep. She managed to force herself to push the door open and shut before trudging to her shared bedroom. The moment she stepped into the room, she smiled at the sight of [Y/N] curled up against the headboard, huddled in between pillows and under blankets as she silently read her book.

She looked up at Amity once she heard the doorknob twist, a wide smirk gracing her lips. “You’re home. How was work?” At the mention of what had made her so tired, Amity groaned and walked forward, collapsing onto the bed and murmuring something unintelligible into the pillow. A small chuckle made her turn her head. “What’d you say?” “I said good but tiring. Lilith–you remember her, right? My old mentor? She’s pretty much my boss for our projects, and she told me I had to take the rest of the week off.”

“Why do you seem upset about that? I mean, we’d be able to spend more time together.” “Yeah, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to spend time with you, you know I do. I just feel guilty for not being able to help them out at the same time, you know?” [Y/N] nodded softly before letting out a small sigh. She shuffled in her spot on the bed, and when Amity looked up to see what she was doing, she found her huddled up further in the blankets, already reading to distract herself again.

With a bit more effort than she thought she’d need, Amity picked herself up into a sitting position. She then shifted over to lean against [Y/N]’s shoulder and rest her head against it. “What’s wrong?” She questioned gently as she peered up at her. “Nothing’s wrong,” was the only response. Amity wouldn’t accept that, however. She nudged at her shoulder until they made eye contact again. “C’mon, you can tell me. Is it because of me? I won’t be upset.”

It took a few moments before [Y/N] finally answered, visibly hesitating. “It’s not necessarily because of you. I know you, Amity, and you know me. We’re both the same when it comes to wanting to help people. I just wish you would spend more time with me here instead–I want to help them out as much as possible too, don’t get me wrong, but it’s better to take breaks. If you’re exhausted all the time, then you won’t have the energy to keep working everyday. I’m really starting to worry that one day I’ll be called to one of the sites because you’ve collapsed.”

Amity’s heart ached at the thought of [Y/N] being so concerned for her. She knew she was likely overworking herself the same way she used to during school, but she had never really paid attention to how long she was away from the house for that work. [Y/N] had offered to help out more often as well a while back so she and Amity could alternate during shifts and not work for too long. She had denied the suggestion, but now, as she looked at the way her girlfriend’s eyebrows furrowed upward together while her eyes glinted with an accompanying distress, she regretted it.

Maybe Lilith was right–maybe spending so much time at work was doing more harm than good. Surely, after spending over ten to twelve hours a day doing near-constant labor, she was too fatigued to actually be helping out all that much. She thought she was doing most of the work, but looking back on it, the others did come in after her shift to correct some of the things she had messed up. And those errors were growing more and more frequent.

With a small sigh, she nodded and shifted up further to let her face burrow into the crook of [Y/N]’s neck. “I know. I’m really sorry. I had no idea I was concerning you that much. I’ll listen to Lilith and take the rest of the week off, but I’ll also start reminding myself to take more breaks and spend more time here at home with you, okay?”

At this, [Y/N] looked up at her again, having turned away to stare mindlessly at the thin pages of her book to avoid eye contact. “You promise?” Amity smiled and nodded reassuringly. She lifted her arm and let it wrap around the smaller girl’s shoulders, allowing her to pull her closer for a hug. “I promise.”

A few hours had passed since Amity made her promise, and she was finding it harder and harder to stay awake with each passing second. She had slumped down further into the sheets, eventually letting her head fall to rest partially against [Y/N]’s hip and thigh as she continued to sit up and read her book. She glanced up, occasionally managing to read a few words off of the pages of the story. The feeling of [Y/N]’s fingertips lightly scratching at her scalp in a soothing manner, combined with the comforting motion of those same fingers raking through her lavender locks, finally lulled her into a deep sleep after a while.

Moments later, at the sound of soft snoring, [Y/N] pulled her attention away from her book and glanced down at Amity. She beamed warmly at the sight and sighed. Her free hand left the book long enough to slip her bookmark from its place on her nightstand and tuck it in between the pages before letting the cover fall shut. As silently as she could, [Y/N] placed her book to the side–essentially replacing where the bookmark was just a moment ago–tugged the small cord on the lamp to turn it off, then wriggled her way beneath the sheets. She turned over onto her side and pulled Amity into her chest.

Her lips made contact with the top of Amity’s head in the form of a gentle kiss. “Night, Amity,” she slurred out softly as her eyes fluttered shut. She was dragged into slumber as well shortly after.

The sun’s morning light poked its way through the partially shut blinds and gently blanketed the room in a comforting glow. [Y/N] stirred once it reached her eyes, squinting and murmuring to herself as she managed to pry her eyes open and look around. With a yawn, she looked down to find Amity still tucked away against her chest. She smiled, getting caught in a daze at how she looked in the lighting. After the long hours of the week, the bags under the youngest Blight’s eyes were very visible, though she still looked managed to look so beautiful in her peaceful slumber.

[Y/N] leaned down far enough to press a small kiss to her forehead before she slipped her arms out from around her and snuck out of the bed and into the kitchen. There, she quickly prepared Amity’s favorite breakfast and placed it on one of the table trays they had gotten recently so they could eat in bed without worrying about crumbs. She crept back into the bedroom, set the tray down on Amity’s nightstand, got dressed for the day, and headed out, sending a message to Lilith in the process.

By the time Amity finally woke back up, mainly due to the lack of warmth and the smell of her favorite dish, [Y/N] had been gone for a while. She sat up in bed and looked around, confused. Quickly, she pulled out her scroll and messaged [Y/N], asking where she was. Soon enough, she got a reply, which explained she was taking care of a few of Amity’s daily chores so she didn’t have to worry about them that day, as well as letting Lilith and the crew know she would get a few things done throughout the week so they both didn’t completely disappear in the meantime.

Amity couldn’t help but smile widely at the message. [Y/N] knew she was feeling guilty for not being able to constantly help out, and that she also felt guilty for not spending more time together, so she was trying to find a way to compromise and make both of them work.

She turned over to the tray and lifted it. She set it on the mattress to rest over her lap and dug in, clicking over on her scroll for a bit to find a good video or movie to watch at the same time. Working for so long the previous day had built up her appetite, and she hadn’t eaten before she practically passed out the night before, meaning her stomach was roaring from hunger. She scarfed down the dish quicker than she meant to and slipped out from under the covers after picking the tray up. She brought it out to the kitchen, and while headed there, she noticed that the entire house–save for the bedroom, which hadn’t been cleaned in order to not wake Amity up–was spotless.

A sigh passed from her lips as she grinned. She rinsed her plate and glass and placed them in the sink, as well as her fork, and wiped off the bedside tray before folding it and tucking it away again in the pantry. “I’ll have to find a good way to thank her. Maybe I could make some kind of bot that could take care of the cleaning for her,” she mumbled to herself out loud. At the thought of this, she headed out to her laboratory and clicked on the light.

Her molten golden eyes shimmered as she noticed that her entire workspace had also been polished and reorganized. All of the discarded bolts and mixed puddles of Abomination slime had been wiped from the floor, every tool was in its designated spot, and every countertop was completely spotless. How long had it taken [Y/N] to do all of this? She thought back to her food, and within a few moments of reflection, realized that she had been asleep far longer than she thought. Her food had been cold when she ate it, but she must’ve been too hungry to notice.

Her hand moved back and slipped her scroll from her pocket once more. She sent another message off to [Y/N], asking what time she had left the room that morning. She made a mental note of the current time after her eyes flickered up to the digital clock at the top of her screen. Her response was quick. “I think I left around 4:30 AM. Why?” It was nearly 2:00 PM when the message was sent. Amity sighed and smiled again. “Just wondering. Thank you for cleaning everything.”

She sauntered over to her chair in front of the desk space she usually used to sketch out blueprints and got to work once she was seated. She’d find a way to repay [Y/N] for helping her out so much. If her idea worked out, she realized she could also design one similar to help clean the construction sites when she was back to work later on.

Picking up a pencil from its original spot in a small cup on the corner of the desk, she pulled out a sheet of sketching paper and began scribbling down different designs and the pieces that would be required for each part. It didn’t take long for her to get lost in her work.

“Thanks so much, Matt! I’ll make sure Amity gets them,” [Y/N] called out with a smile and a wave, a basket full of baked goods tucked away in her arm. Matt waved back. “No problem! It’s from the whole crew, as a way to thank the two of you for all you’ve done!”

[Y/N]’s smile grew wider at this, and she nodded as she headed back to the house. She yawned, exhausted from both the work throughout the day and the early hour she had chosen to wake up at. On the way, she ran into Lilith, who recognized her immediately and turned from the conversation she was having with her sister. Eda turned as well, grinning. “Ah, if it isn’t Miss Bossy Boots’s girlfriend! Lily told me about what happened yesterday. Is she finally resting up?”

A nod and a chuckle was her response. “Yeah, she’s at home. She’s awake and she’s eaten, but there isn’t much to do at the house except–” She froze, her realization kicking in. A groan erupted from her before she could realize it, and she ran her free hand down her face. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” “Well, I completely forgot to lock up her lab, so she’s probably still working, just not out here. I gotta get back and make sure she’s resting.”

Lilith stepped forward and squeezed [Y/N]’s shoulder with a smile. “Thank you for looking after her. I’ve been worried for a while now.” Her eyes flickered down to the basket, and her grin widened. “I see Matt gave you our appreciation basket. Make sure to eat them fairly soon. They don’t spoil quickly, but they’re best when they’re fresh. I’m sure Amity will appreciate it as much as you because, well, it is for both of you, after all.”

[Y/N] nodded again. “Thank you for everything, Lilith. Could you let the crew know that Amity and I want to thank them as well?” “Of course.” Eda grinned and stepped forward. “Why don’t you get home now and make sure she isn’t wasting away like her pops in that lab?” She cackled as Lilith elbowed her gently in the arm. “Edalyn, please.”

“Ah, I’m just messing with her. Seriously though, make sure she actually rests. "Working hard is important, but feeling good is important too," to quote a show Hunter got Hooty hooked on.” [Y/N] smiled and nodded once again before turning on her heel to continue heading home. She waved to the Clawthorne sisters.

Once she finally made it, she unlocked the door with a bit of a struggle, and headed inside. “Amity?” She called out, placing the basket of goods on the kitchen table as she wandered to her shared bedroom. She peeked in, but it wasn’t necessarily a surprise to find that Amity wasn’t in there. She sighed, then headed to the entrance of the lab, where she finally spotted the lavender-headed woman already crafting something new on her experiment table.

Even behind the dark purple-shaded lenses of her goggles, Amity could see the door swing open to reveal her girlfriend standing there, completely exasperated. She lifted her goggles and planted them up on her head to see her clearly. With a smile and a wave, she greeted her. “Hey, welcome home. How was your day?” [Y/N] stepped in once being acknowledged. “It was good, but why are you in here working? You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Well, inventing stuff helps me relax. And besides, this machine I’m making will actually help both of us relax more often–if it works properly, that is.” Now curious, [Y/N] stepped closer, peering over at what was being built. “What is it supposed to do?”

Amity smiled, happy to talk about her current work in progress. “It’s a cleaning bot. It’ll help us clean up around the house and the lab. If it works the way I want it to, then I was thinking I could help cut down the amount of time we spend at the worksites by making one specifically for construction cleanup.” [Y/N] cringed at a memory that she triggered. “Amity, I don’t know…don’t you remember what happened last time you tried to do something like this?” “Oh, believe me, I remember that. I remember the broken plates and frames–""--and chairs.” “And chairs, yes, but that’s why I’m going to set up a small practice area to test it out in. And I won’t use anything fragile.

“I promise I won’t try it out in the house until it’s perfected.” [Y/N] sighed, already anxious, but she smiled at how enthusiastic Amity was at her newest idea. She stepped closer again and pulled the taller woman into a tight hug, which was returned just as eagerly. “I’m proud of you, Amity.” At this, Amity couldn’t help but tear up just a little bit as she pressed a small kiss to the top of [Y/N]’s head.

“I’m proud of you too.”

After leaning away from the hug, [Y/N] grabbed Amity’s hand and led her out of the lab and into the kitchen, receiving very little resistance. She revealed the basket still resting on the table, pulling the small cloth on the top off to reveal the rest of the baked goods.

Amity tilted her head, confused. “What’s all of this for?” [Y/N] beamed up at her and picked a random treat out. “The construction crew, including Lilith, wanted to thank you and I both for all the work we’ve done recently–especially you.”

She grew warm at the thought of all of her work being appreciated, grinning uncontrollably as she plucked one of her favorites from the small woven basket. She unwrapped it and turned it in her hold before biting down into it, humming at the flavor. “It’s amazing. Hopefully my bot will be a good enough way to thank them for it.” [Y/N] nodded and bit into her own snack. “Maybe, but remember: this is to thank you for everything you’ve already done.”

“I know,” Amity started. “I’m excited to see them all again next week, even though I plan to spend less than half of the amount of time there.” At the sound of this statement, [Y/N]’s head perked up, her glee evident on her features. “Well, I’m excited to spend that time with you.” Amity smiled down at her and pulled her closer. “You know what else I’m excited for?”

“Hm?”

“I’m excited to eat all of these treats.” [Y/N] laughed at that, prompting Amity’s smirk to grow. The smaller woman stood on her toes to press a small kiss to Amity's cheek, already thinking of ways to spend time together during the next several days.

“So am I.”

[midori-laboratories]

Frozen Ashes: Chapter 3 - Sanguine Standard III

Book 3 of The Calendula Chronicles. (AO3)

Story synopsis: Albert Wesker molded his captive into the perfect, pliable bait for taking out Rockfort Island's paramilitary facility, and cracking open the Ashford family’s secrets. But who’s really in control, once chaos breaks out?

The stakes have never been higher for Marigold, but she may not be fast enough to save everyone.

Book 3 of the Calendula Chronicles series. Written as the other side of The Antarctica Incident.

Chapter summary: The mission on Rockfort begins.

The unit of HCF recruits from the first wave had been badly maimed, and the survivors had been thoroughly shaken by how damned prepared Alfred Ashford had been for them. It almost seemed like he’d been waiting for someone to come at him, so he could finally unleash the horde of monsters and traps that had awaited them.

Unleashing the T-Virus had bloodied the military and prison population just as badly, if not worse. The second wave came in strong, backed by a fresh wave of T-Virus victims, and swept up the field-tested survivors with them. Those recruits would be on their way to forming the core of a true BOW control force with a few more missions.

The second wave set up a sandbag-sided foxhole by the wall of the training facility while the first wave settled in to regroup and lick their wounds. One of these solidiers, a young man going by the name of Segers, saw a huge mercenary carrying a slight figure draped over his shoulder. The figure was lean, in the same uniform as them, but with a black bag over their head and wrists bound in front of them with zip ties. The soldier, having seen too many zombies in one day for their liking, stood quickly. “Dude. Take the wounded OUTSIDE the barrier!” He shouted. “Do not let them reanimate in here!”

The mercenary grinned at the man, crossing the space to set the figure down against the sandbags. The figure was a woman - slumped against the barrier, limp. She had the same armament as the rest of them, with an additional bandolier of throwing knives. A specialist?

“Not wounded,” the mercenary explained. “This little thing was brought in with the commander. Special toy to point and release when the time’s right. She ain’t bitin’ nobody, or she woulda done it already. See this?” He pointed to a tube protruding from the bottom of the bag. A canister on the other end was clipped to the gun harness around her shoulders. “P-Epsilon gas. It’s what they use to knock down the really big ones, but it stops working after a while. Hadda keep ‘er quiet for the ride in, and I got one more can we can use until they’re ready to let ‘er loose. If they try to hit ‘er with more of it after that, it’ll probably just piss her off. We just gotta babysit a little bit in here until the party’s ready to start.” The mercenary glanced around at the wounded who’d headed infection and gave a vicious grin. “Let’s see that skinny fucker in his fancy house deal with this.”

The two surviving prisoners fled the palace on foot, heading for the airfield. Wesker sighted them both through his binoculars and allowed himself a low chuckle. Two young people with red hair. One, almost unbelievably, was the younger sister of Chris Redfield. The logs had shown she had been caught raiding the Paris facility and had done significant damage.

From Agent Wong’s report, the girl had been one of two - the other an RPD rookie - that had managed to take down William Birkin in his fully mutated form. Chris had clearly taught the girl a few things when she was younger, and she’d had the grit to use those skills to survive.

The other, Steve Burnside, had been caught stealing data with his father in the black market. The boy was clumsy, and unpredictable. More often than not, Ms. Redfield would constantly have to stop and protect the boy from his own stupidity. But the records reflected that the boy's father had been introduced to Alfred's favorite means of interrogation, and hadn't survived the experience. He was unpredictable, had a petty criminal's grasp of improvised weapons and explosives, a seasoned protector (the girl was just as much of a bleeding heart as her brother), and a hardline vendetta against his former warden. Mostly an idiot, but an idiot with a grudge, left alone was the best sort of distraction, so long as one kept out of the blast radius. Chief Irons had been living proof of that.

The girl only wanted to get off this island. The boy though, might not care so long as he took his enemy down with him. Wesker had ordered HCF to give the prisoners a clear berth while the second wave settled into their encampment. Alfred had noticed, and focused in on the pair like a hawk sighting prey.

And proceeded to underestimate them. Wesker could hear Alfred screaming incoherently from his viewpoint on a nearby hill. The rumours of his deteriorating mental state had been true, it seemed. The rumour that Alexia had been sighted within the place itself were still unconfirmed, although several men from the first wave had reported as much around both the palace and the facility.

Wesker considered the scene below. Chris Redfield’s tenacity at the mansion had been admirable initially, trending into annoying when he and the other survivors had blasted his involvement over any channel that would listen. It had also cast doubt over the viability of any data he brought to the table for HCF. After all, if a few well-trained officers could take out a Tyrant, what use was their data to HCF?

Wesker frowned. Something was off with the Alexia sightings. Furthermore, the two children below were managing what the entire first wave had failed to accomplish. They were making them look incompetent.

The radio crackled to life, Segers’ voice registering as lightly panicked. “Sir, the…subject? That stuff you gave us isn’t going to keep working so good soon. I think she’s waking up. But we got bigger problems.”

He’d slipped the mask over Marigold’s face on the plane, and she’d only had a flash of understanding - of panic, and white-hot anger - before slipping into unconsciousness. The gas was designed to keep down BOWs by going after the virus directly, but it was an older, imperfect formula. The virus was documented to adapt and sometimes even convert the gas into a sort of venom that a BOW could turn back on its assailant. Using the gas this way would keep her down for a time, and the new tolerance would, in turn, go a long way toward preventing any stray USS forces from taking her down themselves. He’d slipped the information card into her shirt pocket to look over later, and understand what had happened.

He tapped the comm at his ear. “What problems?”

“Something big is headed toward us. Not like the worm thing. Those kids took care of that. Something’s being funneled through the ground toward our position. The scout called it a troll. But that ain’t right.”

Wesker sighed. “You’re about to meet the berserker of the Umbrella arsenal, I’m afraid. Get the mask off of the subject, uncover her head, and hope that you can hold it off until she wakes up.”

The dream came down again. The bright observation room, with a woman in a lab coat and respirator. Behind her were the small anxious sounds of people moving, watching.

Marigold had been having some version of this dream constantly since awakening back in July. Doctor Annette Fletcher, who would later marry William Birkin, had drawn the short straw to interpret her responses in the short time she had been granted consciousness, just enough to draw out a few morsels of information. Any longer would have been deemed too hazardous if the destruction she had left in the basement of Arkaly were any indication.

Spencer had tried to steer the interview towards implicating her brother in something untoward, but Annette had seen her response, whatever she had done, and but a stop to that line of thinking.

For that alone, the woman had had her gratitude. Enough to initial a risky phone call from Chief Irons’ office in her brief foray into Raccoon City, before the real chaos had come down hard upon the doomed city. That conversation had played into her dreams more and more over the last few months, weaving into her dreams in an ongoing conversation with a dead woman.

In the dream, Marigold stepped down from her restraints easily. They might as well have been made of smoke. The others in the room, somewhere behind her, receded into the fog of the dream. She raised a hand to her face, remembering the mask that had been slipped over her face on the plane, that moment of panic before the gas had stolen away her strength and consciousness. “Back to games,” she murmured.

“Did you expect any different?” The figure in the gas mask asked, voice tinny and distorted.

“No,” Marigold admitted. “I wasn’t trying to change him. I just needed them to let their guards down. I couldn’t have managed this without Alan to convince the others.”

‘Annette’ went quiet. When they had spoken in Raccoon City, Marigold had been about to run aher own personal test on whether she could remotely keep the mutated William pinned down for long enough to let Annette procure some critical supplies. They might have prolonged her life, but in the end, the woman had still died. Her words replayed in the dream, disjointed, but still largely prescient. “You wanted to know what you’re dealing with. That. That is what you’re dealing with. That, but more…more willing to get blood on his hands. Others’ hands. I don’t think I’m telling you anything you haven’t guessed at yourself.” The bitterness began to creep back into her voice, and the words began to come faster. ”I lied to them, you know. All of them. They would have torn you apart if they thought you could viably reproduce. I didn’t want any part in it - I hadn’t developed the stomach for it yet - so I falsified the report so they’d close the damned file. Tell me you haven’t wasted that.”

Back in that police station office, Marigold had been momentarily stunned. “I never asked if they’d figured it out. Annette…”

Here in the dream, Marigold simply nodded. “I did the best I could, but it’s catching up with me. If they’d waited a few more weeks I’d have an entirely new set of troubles.”

“Don’t assume you can manage this,” The memory echoed. “You might do marginally better than others if only because you were a project. You’re symbolic. If you’re offering what you’re offering, then you know what people are willing to throw away for-” Annette cut herself off, breathing harshly.

“I have an idea, now.” Marigold said quietly. She looked around, brow creasing. “I can smell flowers. If we’re where I think we are, they should have been moved to a different lab. Did Alexander leave them here?” She sniffed the air. The roses. Her roses, troublesome little things that they were. Why were they crowding into her dreams?

There was a distant sound of shouting from down the hall. A deep thump of inhuman footsteps, and the emergency lighting switched on to bathe the room in a deep, bloody red. The faint details of the room began to fade, and Annette receded back into the fog. Her voice took on a distant echoing quality as the dream began to break down.

You wanted to feel normal. You wanted to feel real. Can you let go of that?

I wish I’d been able to get to know you. Marigold thought. I’m glad Grayson found you, even though it probably means he thought Alexia was dead. When I was told she was dead I was ready to burn it all down, for a while.

I’m scared to see them all again. I just want them to be okay.

And then what? The phantom asked.

I don’t know. I never know. I only act, and react, and hope I don’t destroy everything I care about in the process.

The phantom persisted. What do you want, Marigold Ashford? This is still in your hands, but it won’t stay that way.

I don’t know.

A lifetime of talking to researchers blending into one dissonant voice. Let’s abstract away the idea of you then. What does Placidia want?

…I think Placidia was the wrong name. Do I look calm to you?

The voice chuckled. It’s what they wanted from you, and they got it, for a long time. You hit the next stage the instant you let him in. You better figure out who you are then. What that makes you.

…I know.

I know what I am.

Segers had drawn the bag off the woman’s head- and immediately realized that it had been there not so much as to obscure her vision, but to protect her from vengeful allies until she awoke. The woman was very like a dead ringer for the dead twin that Alfred Ashford had been screaming about. The mercenary who’d brought her in -Davies - glanced over with a grim nod. “Mask off, but I think hood up, yeah? It’s probably a lookalike they fixed up with a dye job, but she gave everyone the willies at base camp. A little extra effect to break ‘im, I think.”

Segers nodded, pulling the mask off her face and reaching to grasp the hood clipped to the back of her tac shirt. Someone had been thinking ahead there.

The woman’s eyelids twitch and began to flutter open as he raised the hood. Only years of training kept him from falling back on his rear in instinctive fear. The woman’s eyes were a mottled orange-red, struggling to focus, and the low light gave them an unearthly sheen.

Beyond the sandbag walls, the deep, rumbling footsteps were drawing closer. Someone behind them shouted, and opened fire. The beast roared picking up speed.

The commander had told them it was a Tyrant.

The woman’s gaze sharpens at the sound and focused on Segers’ face. She sat up with a groan. “Tell your idiots,” she said in a crisp British accent, “to cut that noise out and get to cover. Those rounds aren’t nearly enough.”

Segers went numb. The accent was close enough that she might have been a relative. How long had they been prepping this one? “What are you going to do?” He crept back from her, stamping down the animal drive to flee.

The woman smiled, a sharp mirthless slash across her face. With a sharp pull and a twist of her forearms, the zip ties snapped and fell away. “I’m going to get rid of it, of course.” With a fluid, almost boneless motion that he associated with dancers, the woman got her feet under her and straightened, turning toward the sound of the approaching Tyrant.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Better Than They Know

Fandom: 9-1-1

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,827

Request:  Hello! I Hope you're doing good! I don't know if you ccurrently do requests or not or if this is where to ask for them but I have one in case you do take them. Evan Buckley x reader where his parents come to town and they are really passive agressive towards him, complaining about his work and that he's "not as nice of a boy as he used to be" but he doesn't tell them to stop. Eventually they remark on his birthmark, hitting an old insecurity and reader comforts him? Thank you for your time! <33

You’d never met Buck’s parents, and he barely spoke about them, so when you got a call at work from your boyfriend telling you his family would be joining you both for dinner that night you’d spent the rest of the day fretting about what to wear, what to say, how to act...

Maddie and Chimney would be there too, but Buck had told you he wouldn’t survive the dinner without you, whatever that meant. You knew things weren’t great between the Buckley’s and their parents, but they’d both always been so vague on the details. Maybe you should have pushed, but you didn’t think you’d meet them this soon.

“They can’t be that bad, you and Maddie turned out great,” you tried, phone between your ear and your shoulder as you fastened the burgundy blouse you’d opted to wear. 

“Just wait until you meet them,” Buck said in a low voice, calling to check what time you’d be arriving. You could hear conversation in the background, definitely Maddie and two other voices you didn’t recognise, presumably the parents. 

“Is this really how you chose to decorate your living room?” You heard a female voice call out to Buck, hearing him sigh a little on the other end of the line, clearly wearing thin. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll come save you as soon as I can,” you promised, tucking your shirt in and searching for your earrings, curious to see just what Mr and Mrs Buckley were actually like.

“Thank you, thank you,” he repeated gratefully, getting called again by his parents as he hurried up his good byes, “I love you, see you soon.”

“I love you too, bye,” he hung up, leaving you to pick up the pace a little. He sounded stressed, and on edge, two things Buck rarely was. You wished he’d told you more about them, but you guessed you’d just have to find out when you arrived. 

Double checking you had everything and giving yourself one last look over in the full length mirror by your door, you headed out.

Buck had text you to just come right on in, so you made your way into his apartment and headed straight for the dining area, following the sounds of strained conversation with anticipation. Chimney seemed to be trying to carry a conversation, but it was clear from where you were standing that there was tension between the four Buckley’s.

Maddie gave you a pained look when she noticed you, still offering you a welcoming and almost pitying smile as the sound of your footsteps alerted the others to your presence.

Buck lit up, standing from his seat to kiss you. “Hey, glad you could make it,” he said, taking the wine you’d brought off of your hands so you could sit down.

“You must be Y/N,” the woman who was clearly Buck’s mother smiled, standing to hug you in greeting. It took you by surprise, but she seemed friendly enough. “I’m Donna, this is my husband Steve,” she told you, Steve standing up to shake your hand as you all settled down at the table.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you told them, glancing between Buck and Maddie, then at a relieved looking Chimney. You’d come because Buck had wanted saving, but you actually thought he looked the most uncomfortable out of everyone here, which was saying something. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you too, even though we haven’t heard very much about you,” Donna said with a pointed look at Buck, “I was hoping we’d get a chance to meet sooner, but it seems like we have to put in all the effort if we want to see our kids.”

“You know how busy we’ve been with work,” Buck explained, which was valid given that his parents lived out of state and both siblings worked five out of seven days a week. 

“You always are,” Steve retorted in a tone you couldn’t quite read, but from the way Maddie took a large gulp of her wine, you felt that this was an old issue in the Buckley family, and one that had probably already been brought up today.

The food looked lovely, so you settled in and took a bite as a bit of an awkward silence fell over the table, Chimney shooting you a sympathetic and knowing look that had you dreading what was to come.

“So Y/N,” Steve began, ignoring the looks of dread from both his children as he continued, “do you put on a costume and run into fires for minimum wage or do you have a proper job?” 

Oh crap. You slowly swallowed the food in your mouth, looking at him in a little bit of shock.

“Dad-” Maddie tried despairingly but he waved her off with a dismissive hand, still looking at you as he awaited your response. It suddenly felt like you’d turned up to an interview unprepared.

“Oh er, I’m a lawyer,” you replied finally, sticking more food in your mouth in the hopes of not having to say anything else on the matter. No wonder Chimney had looked so happy to see you - had he been subject to same third degree? From the way Steve had just spoke about firefighters, you figured you had your answer.

“Oh, see that’s what we wanted Evan to do, but...” Donna looked at Buck like some kind of child who’d just disappointed her, “it wasn’t his strong suit.”

You bit your tongue, your stubborn protectiveness rising up. These were Buck’s parents, there were certain rules of etiquette right? You couldn’t put them in their place? 

“I love my job,” Buck spoke up for the first time, “I’m good at my job, I help people-”

“Of course, we’re only saying we wanted more for you,” Donna clarified like that made what she said any better, or did she not even see anything wrong with it?

“What more could you want? That was your dream for me, not mine,” Buck replied defensively, the fake polite smile on Donna’s face vanishing. Steve put his cutlery down then, not happy with the tone Buck had just taken with his mother.

“Evan, really, what happened to that nice and polite boy we raised?” He scolded, voice stern. Buck clamped his mouth shut again quicker than you’d ever seen.

“Mr and Mrs Buckley-” you tried to interject, but Buck shook his head at you, resigning himself to accepting the criticism and insult once again.

You and Chimney shared a confused and helpless look, unsure of what to say or do in this situation but both wanting desperately to say or do something. 

The meal continued awkwardly, with snippets of small talk mixed in with the sound of cutlery and eating, and you naively began to think that the worst of it had passed. Donna had just asked what kind of law you specialised in, but by the time you’d finished explaining, it became clear that Mrs Buckley wasn’t done saying her piece from earlier.

“I’m glad Buck’s found someone mature and grown up, surprised, but glad,” she told you cheerfully, their complete lack of awareness at how terribly they talked to their children startling you once again.

“How so?” You asked, voice tight, your protectiveness beginning to boil over. Chimney saw the way you tensed, knowing you well enough to know that things were about to take a turn as he cleared he deliberately cleared his throat, warning you.

“Mom-” Buck tried with no small amount of desperation as Donna took a breath to reply to you, somehow unaware of your tone or expression.

“No no, you know what I mean, good job, good looking, Evan’s lucky he isn’t insecure about dating someone who earns more than him,” she and Steve laughed, but your jaw was clenched so tightly you thought your teeth were going to shatter, “oh don’t get me wrong, he is handsome, but we always said, he’d look much better if he fixed that mark on his face.”

You saw white as she tried to gently touch his face to make her point, looking a little insulted when Buck ducked away from her hand. She was about to make yet another comment when your knife and fork clanged down onto the plate with deliberate force, making her jump and stopping the conversation. Buck took that moment to get up, shoving his chair back and leaving the table.

“Buck!” Maddie called her brother, looking at her parents with disappointment. Donna shot back a questioning look, like she didn’t know what she’d said or done. 

“Evan we’re in the middle of dinner-” Steve seemed like he was about to lecture his son on his table manners, but you stopped listening, making a show of throwing your napkin down onto the table and glaring at both his parents before storming off after Buck without another word.

You found him in the bathroom, leaning with his hands on either side of the sink, head hung low and eyes closed. Without a word you went up behind him and wrapped your arms around his back, hugging him as you felt him release a breath, grateful as one of his arms moved to yours.

“I love you,” you told him, tightening your grip to emphasise the point, “they shouldn’t speak to you like that, they don’t have any right to.”

“They always have,” Buck sighed. You hated this, absolutely hated it, and you had just the mind to march back in there and tell Mr and Mrs Buckley just how much you hated it.

“That doesn’t mean they should,” you said with force, trying to convince him that he deserved more as you pulled the hand that was holding yours, getting him to turn around to face you. “Evan Buckley, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re charming, and you’re ten times the man they could ever imagine, try not to forget that.”

“I not-” he began but you shook your head, not letting him get in a word of self-doubt and insecurity.

“Yes, you are, and even if I have to repeat it over and over, I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it too, okay?” You weren’t actually asking, and he knew that as he met your eyes, reluctantly nodding with a small smile of appreciation.

You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I wish you could see yourself how I do, how the rest of us do, you’re far too good for them and better than they’ll ever know. I love you.”

“I- I love you too,” he got out, a little choked up by your sentiment as he cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “We er, we should probably get back in there and save Maddie and Chim, huh?”

You laughed, “I’ll try not to stab your parents with my knife, but I can’t say it’s a promise.”

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 3

Billy Russo x Reader

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

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

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

(My GIF)

“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

Closing the door firmly behind you and heading straight to your fancy CEO swivel chair, you sat down and shakily placed your hands flat on the desk. You took some deep breaths. That stupid big idiot and his BDE! How dare he kiss you like that in front of everyone.

And even worse, leaving you all hot and flustered like some kid who’s never been kissed before! Let’s be honest, that’s what was really getting to you... he hadn’t actually bent you over the counter and fucked you, but by your reaction he might as well have.

How ridiculous, you told yourself sternly, get a grip! You put your forehead on the desk’s cool surface. They’d all been staring at you, and you could feel your face heating up again at the thought of them watching Billy kiss you really quite passionately. And you melting like a complete fool in the process.

After a couple of hours hiding out in your office, you knew you’d have to face the music sooner or later and made your way back down to the café. The regulars, you saw, had gone by now so that was something but by the mischievous looks on your co-workers’ faces, you knew you were in for some serious teasing.

You made your way over to one of the two monster Gaggia coffee machines in the café and started making yourself a cappuccino. “Anyone want one?” you asked over your shoulder. Jake said he’d have one too, but the other two passed. You could just feel their curiosity crackling through the air like electricity. They were of course fully aware of the Ex and that whole daytime soap plot, but were just about losing their shit as they didn’t know anything about this hot dude, who’d walked in to the café and kissed you like he knew you extremely well.

You handed Jake his coffee and helped yourself to a danish cinnamon pastry - yeah, eating the profits again - munching into it and then pointing at your staff members with it. “Okay, guys. Here it is. In its entirety. I went to little cousin’s cocktail party last night as you know, and met the guy who was in here earlier. We left the party, went for a couple of drinks elsewhere, he drove me home, I got out of his car and he drove away. Like, immediately I got out.”

You really didn’t feel the need to mention the kiss he’d stolen before you got out of his car.

Gabrielle’s mouth fell open, “You met him last night???” The implication being that A) how was that possible and B) where did that kiss come from if you hadn’t slept with him? You sighed, taking another bite of pastry. “Yes! And as I’ve just told you,” you looked around to make sure there weren’t any customers in earshot, “he did not stay the night, okay? He didn’t even get out of his car.”

“It’s just that it looked a bit ...” Steve trailed off nervously. “Well...umm... friendly... for someone you’ve only just met,” finished Jake. You nodded. “I’m aware of that. What you saw there was the Billy Russo Show, done purely to embarrass me. He’s a cocky big shit. And trying to get me to go out with him.” “Are you going to?” asked Gabrielle. “Oh, hell yes! Wouldn’t you?” Jake almost got whiplash, he nodded so emphatically, “Yes. Yes, I would.” You all had a good laugh at that.

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

There were only 2 days to go until Friday, and you found yourself panicking. What to wear, what to wear? OK, after mentally reviewing your wardrobe you decided that a shopping trip was in order.

Hanging up your new purchase in the wardrobe, you felt pleased with your choice. Nothing too flashy - you weren’t sure of the venue, so went with smart/casual - a sleek navy number, wraparound style, mid-thigh length and showing only a hint of cleavage. Less is more right?

Teamed with a pair of metallic navy heels, it would be fine. You hoped. What if he was taking you somewhere really low-key? Oh well, you shrugged, if you ended up looking a bit like Cinders at the ball in some local pizzeria, so be it.

Jake and the others were still buzzing about your upcoming date, in fact you’d eventually asked them if they wanted to come along too. They’d at least had the decency to look guilty, but only a little. You were sure that if they found out where you two were headed, they’d follow you. You decided you’d better check for shadowy figures tailing you on Friday night.

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

8pm on the dot, the buzzer sounded in your apartment, Billy’s voice announcing that he was downstairs. You were not quite ready, still had a couple of tweaks to make so buzzed him up. He strolled in as you opened the door, leaning in for a kiss to which you turned your head, so it landed on your cheek. “Lipstick!” you trilled, moving back towards the bathroom. “I won’t be long, have a seat. You’re looking good, Russo, by the way.” “Thanks,” you heard his voice from the other room, “and you’re looking absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You’d felt happier when you saw that he was also smart/casual.... what looked like a cashmere burgundy sweater over black jeans, with a leather jacket. He looked edible.

When you emerged back into the living room five minutes later - a veritable vision in navy, you mockingly smirked to yourself - Billy Russo was nowhere in sight. You stopped in your tracks, and then heard a drawer opening in your bedroom. You walked through to it, just in time to see Billy picking up a pair of your lacy silk panties out of your underwear drawer.

“Russo!” you yelled, “put those back, you perv!” He slid the smooth fabric between his long fingers, grinning devilishly at you. “Mmmmm, are you wearin’ something similar right now?” Before you could stop yourself, you bit back, “Who says I’m wearing any at all?” His eyes widened, a big grin appearing on his face. “Oh, really? Wanna prove it?” “No!” you replied, knowing your face was scarlet, “just forget I said that. I’m joking with you.” He shook his head, “Yeah, like I’m goin’ to get that image out of my head anytime soon.”

“Let’s go, Billy,” you said, walking to the front door and pulling on your own leather jacket. “Hey, we’re matching,” he laughed, pointing between your jacket and his, “ain’t that sweet!” “It’s creepy, actually. Matching clothes? Vomit-inducing.” He laughed, “You’re funny.” “No, I’m just not some soppy sappy woman who’s going to fall at your feet, Russo.” He took your hand as you closed and locked your front door, and the two of you headed for the stairs.

“Yeah, I’d kinda got that vibe already,” he grinned at you, “but it doesn’t matter, I know I’m gonna get you in the end.” “Just keep on telling yourself that,” you snarked back.

Looking at the back of his head as he walked down the stairs in front of you, you really wanted to run your fingers through that hair but managed to keep your hands to yourself.

Fastening your seat belt, back in the gleaming Wraith, you watched Billy’s fingers as he fastened his and then placed his hands on the steering wheel. You mentally shook yourself, you were beginning to fantasise about different parts of his body and you’d better snap out of it, you told yourself.

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

He took you to a really nice Italian restaurant, not too posh, just nice and relaxed with friendly staff and really good food. The conversation from the night in the bar was picked up where it left off, each of you adding more and varied information. You learned that Frank had sadly lost his wife and kids when they innocently got caught up in a savage gang war gun battle. Billy told you that his friend had gone off the rails for a while, but had recently met a lovely lady called Karen and they’d started dating. He was really pleased for him, as he’d been so worried about him for a while. You thought you’d quite like to meet Frank sometime.

You told him something more of your life, thankfully not involving assault and cheating ex-boyfriends this time. He’d been fascinated and truly appreciative of the struggle you’d had to get your business off the ground, saying that he’d been lucky in having a major investor lined up before he’d even left the Marines.

You saw a dark look flit over his face for a moment, but then it cleared and he went on to ask you more questions about your business. You’d both chatted easily together until it was almost midnight, and you’d become “that couple” who were the last ones in the restaurant. You realised that, when he dropped the ‘Billy Big Dick’ nonsense, you really enjoyed his company and felt that you two had clicked even more this evening.

He drove away from the restaurant, and it took you a few minutes to notice that he wasn’t driving the route to your apartment. “Billy,” you sighed, “are we heading to your place by any chance?” That damn smirk was back on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen yours, so now you can see mine.” ”Oh, ha bloody ha. I’m not sleeping with you, you know.” A grin appeared on his lips as you glanced across at his profile, illuminated by each passing streetlight. “Just keep on tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he replied mockingly. You laughed out loud, “You cheeky big bastard.”

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

His apartment was everything you would’ve expected - open plan, with modern, sleek furnishings and decor in dark masculine colours. You settled yourself onto the large sofa, and he headed to the kitchen area; a moment later, you heard wine being poured then his tall figure reappeared, holding the two wine glasses. He handed one to you, and you took a sip - it was very good wine. “So, Billy... I’m guessing your li’l batchelor pad here sees quite a lot of action, and not the type you saw in the Marines, huh?”

That smirk. He sat down next to you, hand going to rest on your shoulder and playing with a strand of your hair. His expression became serious, “No. I don’t bring women back here.”

You scoffed, “Oh come on, Billy... you’re...” then you stopped, looking away from him. “I’m what?” You shook your head. “C’mon, what were you going to say?” “Never mind. Well, if you don’t bring them here, let me guess... you go to their place and disappear before the morning light?” He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, breaking eye contact with you. “Okay... that, I can’t deny. How did you guess? And what were you going to say before?”

Oh to hell with it, you thought.

“I was going to say... you’re hot, Billy. So obviously - unless you’ve got a problem down there and need some little blue pills...” his eyebrows rose, his mouth dropping open slightly before he started grinning, “...you won’t be a saint and you’re more than likely a player.”

He leaned in towards you, eyes staring deep into yours, “Firstly, I have no problems with my equipment in any way shape or form,” ....smirk... “it’s in perfect workin’ order. And I’d be more than happy to prove that to you.” His lips met yours in a kiss, quickly growing heated. He pulled away, making eye contact again, “And you’re right, I’m no saint. A player? Yeah, maybe. But I can be a saint for you, if you want me to be.”

“But that wouldn’t be the real Billy Russo, would it?” His eyes were still on you. You carried on, “Look, I’ll level with you. I like you - when you’re not wearing your BDE persona. It’s a total clichè, but I really don’t intend to be just another notch on your no-doubt designer bedframe.”

He smiled at you, “I get it, I really do.” He trailed a finger along your cheekbone, “I wouldn’t be tryin’ to be someone I’m not. I just meant that I like you too, and I feel comfortable dropping the persona with you.” You smiled back. “OK, but Billy?” “Yeah?” “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Laughing, “Oh, yeah?” pulling you against his chest, a hand going to your cheek as he kissed you long and hard. Breaking away, hand on his chest, you whispered, “Yeah...”

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

Billy was poised above you, looking down at you as if you were something he wanted to devour. Your clothes had joined his on the bedroom floor a little while ago; you were both lying on his very large bed, and yes it was designer-made - you’d asked him.

He gently pushed aside a strand of your hair, before kissing your lips. His mouth then made its way slowly but surely down to your neck and collarbone, and you felt little nips on your skin before his tongue licked your skin slowly. He moved slightly lower and sucked your nipples while his hands were busy massaging your breasts. Your hands moved to his broad shoulders, pulling him down further so you could feel more of his skin against yours.

You heard a chuckle, “So yeah, I guess you really aren’t gonna sleep with me after all, huh?” You shifted out slightly from under his body, “Shut up Billy, and put this to good use,” letting your fingers trail down to his hard length. You slid your fingers around it and gave his tip a firm squeeze. His breath hissed between his lips, and those big hands pulled you back underneath him. “Don’t worry, I was gonna.” You smirked, “I confess I was impressed when I saw what you were packing,” another squeeze, another hiss, his mouth on your neck, “but actions speak louder than words.”

He laughed, “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Deciding to head for the mother lode, you gave him one last squeeze, firmer than before, sniggering as his hips shot forward. “Same to you,” you said, before sliding your hands into his silky hair at last. Running your fingers right back through it, you sighed out loud and grabbed a handful with each of yours, and tugged. “I see you like my hair,” he smirked.

You leant forward and kissed him, hard. He groaned, kissing you back even harder. Then your hands ran over the muscles of his chest, down the trail of hairs on his lower stomach, before grabbing his cock and wrapping your fingers round it. He growled, “And what ya gonna do with that, sweetheart?” You began stroking him firmly, “This.... until you decide to get off your ass and do something.”

He laughed out loud, and suddenly his hand was between your legs, his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. His lips at your ear, whispering, “Something like this?” and you felt a long finger plunging into you, swiftly joined by a second one. He began sliding them in and out, curling them, and it had an instant effect on you, your breath hitching. “Billy,” you sighed, your hand stilling momentarily on his length. You heard his low chuckle, and he increased his pace. Okay smartass, you thought, and gave his tip a very firm squeeze. “Aahhh!” you heard, and gave him another one for good measure. “You minx,” he laughed, then picked up pace with his fingers again. Then they were gone from you, and you saw him moving his head downwards, hands moving to your hips, his tongue replacing his fingers. He was lapping at you, his thumb back on your clit, and now you really were in trouble.

You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in, beginning to writhe on the bed, and then his fingers were back, sliding in next to his tongue. The combination of thumb, tongue and fingers was like an incendiary bomb going off in your core, and you could feel your climax building by the second. His pace increased and that was it, the explosion happened and you now grabbed his head like a vice, keeping him where he was as the aftershocks of your orgasm washed over you in waves. Very pleasurable waves. Finally, you released his head and you saw his dark eyes meet yours, a satisfied glint in them. “That was only number one, angel,” he grinned, “fasten your seat belt.” “Cocky bastard. And I’m an angel now, am I?” He moved up and back over you, hands sliding up your body.

“For sure,” kissing your neck, nipping the skin lightly with his teeth. “And I’m so lucky, havin’ one in my bed.” He sat up, opening a drawer in his bedside table, scrabbling around until he produced a condom, unwrapping it and holding your gaze as he rolled it on.

His hands moved to your breasts, palming them then circling his thumbs over your nipples as they peaked once again. You grabbed that hair of his again, little gasps making their way between your lips. Your feet were flat on the mattress, knees either side of his thighs and you felt his hand moving down, then the head of his cock was between your legs, edging its way in. Billy thrust right inside you, and there were loud groans from you both as he sunk in. “Mmmm...” he kissed you, tongue diving into your mouth, then he pulled away, gazing at you, “you don’t know just how good you feel around me.” You shifted a bit, rolling your hips to his, “About as good as you feel inside me.”

A low growl, then he was moving on you, fast right from the get-go, his thrusts forcing a moan from you on each stroke. Your legs moved - seemingly of their own accord - around his hips, and this new angle obviously pleased both of you, as the noises the two of you made got even louder. You felt him deep inside you, and every time you squeezed and held him there, he actually whimpered.

“Good puppy!” you managed to gasp out, hearing an answering snort of laughter from him. “I am not...” he gasped back at you between thrusts, “...a fuckin’ puppydog, sweetheart.” “But Billy, you’ve got those big brown eyes ...” your own eyes closed at a particularly forceful thrust, “...and you are fucking me, so...”

His only answer this time was to pull one of your legs higher onto his back, thrusting deep as he did, and then his hand cupped your breast and massaged it hard. That shut you up.

His fingers were at your inflamed core again and then he was rubbing at your clit, making your back arch with sheer pleasure. He was switching between kissing you hungrily and nipping and sucking love bites onto your collarbone. Thank god he wasn’t targeting your neck, you thought, that would look so professional at work. You, meanwhile, were over-indulging in your obsession with his hair, running it back off his forehead with your fingers and tugging on it to your heart’s content.

Finally your over-pleasured body couldn’t take any more, and your climax hit you like a truck. Your nails dug into his muscled shoulders, grabbing him in a death grip and a small scream of “Billy!” exited your open mouth. You felt him give a few sharp thrusts, realising that he was about to come; you heard your name, then a long groan and he released his warm seed into you. He sunk down onto you, kissing you softly but with passion, long fingers laying gently along your jaw and neck as he did so.

“Angel....” he sighed.

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

@blackbirddaredevil23

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 11

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1531

Warnings: Language, Bullying Themes

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup my Loves! so it’s been a while since I last added to the story, I tried my best to keep my writing similar to my previous chapters, let me know what you all think! any advice or constructive criticism is welcome :) I’ll shush now, enjoy!

(This is what I Imagine Annetta to look like :) )

So, in case you were all wondering, the day didn’t get any better. I mean I kinda knew that kids my age could be massive A holes to each other, but I didn’t really expect to see it literally the flipping second I ‘walked’ through the doors. And by walked I mean dragged by the duo known as my own personal demons, or Steve and Bucky to the rest of the population.  A crowd of kids were all gathered around a row of lockers, loads of the shitheads were cheering and encouraging whatever the hell was goin’ on, and as I was about to find out it wasn’t a surprise performance by Frank Sinatra. Safe to say that was a bigger disappointment that diet coke. Anyway, what was I saying ? oh yeah, stood at the front of the crowd were a bunch of lasses that couldn’t of been older than 16, in their hands was a bunch of eggs and flour. At the bottom of their feet, on the floor, was a kid around the same age as me, her glasses were snapped in half and the bottom of to shirt was ripped, but what disgusted me the most was the fact she was begging for help as these girls smashed egg after egg into her face. You know how bulls lose their shit when they see somethin’ red? Yeah imagine that but 10x worse, the lads didn’t have time to stop me as I tore through the crowd ready to beat the ever-loving shit outta these pricks.

“‘OI! WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT ARE YOU DOIN’”  the crowd fell silent as the girls turned to me with what one can only assume was supposed to be a ‘threatening’ glare, if I’m being completely honest it looked like they’d all simultaneously crapped em self’s. One of the girls stepped forwards, she was only a tad taller than me, her hair was a bright red, her green eyes were narrowed at me like she couldn’t believe someone was actually talking back to her. I think this is the part where I yell surprise right ? no? okay then. “Not that I care, but who the hell do you think you are? You got any idea who I am?” she sneered at me, oh my god! I’ve found someone with a bigger ego than Bucky. How in the hell is that possible. “well from first glance I’da said Santa Clause’s ex-wife but I reckon he’d have a better taste in girls now I’ve seen you up close”. And que the outraged gasps from her minions in 3,2,1…. I could hear a few people laughin’ and if I weren’t mistaken a very loud “Oh Jesus wept” from barney boy. Oooh yeah that’s when I know I’m doing my job right.

“YOU BITCH!” she screamed at me, her grubby little hands started swinging towards me in such an exaggerated way it was almost funny, I mean come on anyone coulda seen that comin’ from a mile off. And like the genius I am, I literally just side stepped her as she lunged forward,  an’ from the look on her face she weren’t expecting that, it was like the world slowed down as she surged forward unable to stop herself. Well that was till she landed head -first in the bin. I’d be a big fat liar if I said I wasn’t on the floor dying from laughter. Her legs were flailing above her head as she struggled to pull herself outta there, her cronies tried to help by grabbing her legs but that ended with one of em sporting one heck of a shiner on her right eye. A small sniffle pulled my attention away from the rather hilarious sight, glancing behind me I saw the young lass still on the ground, holdin’ her glasses which were in half with tears rolling down her cheeks. “hey, it’s okay now, they’ve gone. Here take my hand, lets get ya cleaned up eh? Reckon they’re be a bathroom round here somewhere”. The lass didn’t say anything to me, only looking at me with apprehension before taking my outstretched hand and leading us to the bathroom, the sound of the crowd growing quieter as we moved further away from it. “Thanks for saving me from Monica, she’s been bullying me since we were 11, nobody’s ever stood up for me before.” Her voice was so quiet, it shook from the effort it took her to hold back her tears, and I admired her strength, not a lotta girls woulda gone this long and not tell a teacher. “Don’t worry about it mate, I’m sorry it took so long for someone to defend ya, my names y/n by the way, don’t think we’ve met” her brown eyes met mine, as a small smile spread across her face, I couldn’t really tell what colour her hair was but I’m guessing it’s a shade a brown,  other than that she looked like a completely normal person. “My names Annetta, you’re right we ain’t met yet but I’m glad we did”.

-Later that day

It took us ‘bout 30 minutes to get all the egg off Annetta, best we could do was wash it off and cover up the stains with the cardigan I leant her, but what really put the icing on the cake was the teacher in period 1 yellin’ at us for being so late. The temptation to yeet my shoe at someone had never been as strong as it was in that moment, fortunately for the overgrown turnip of a teacher I had to settle for a mean ass side eye. And man was it a mean one.

Apart from that the day had gone by with no more incidents, well unless you count me chasing Bucky round the canteen with a carton of milk for stealin’ half my lunch, much to Annetta’s entertainment and Steve’s embarrassment. I mean the butthole deserved it, nobody and I mean NOBODY messes with my lunch. Even blue-eyed boys with a smile that could charm the devil….what am I sayin’?!

ANYWAYS it’s now what? 4th period I think, which meant English with Annetta, and maybe my favourite boys in the world. Shakespeare and Charles Dickens. Bet ya thought I were gonna say Steve and Bucky right? Well they’re currently sat behind me debating who’d win in a fight, Popeye, or Bugs Bunny. I’m surrounded by idiots. Thankfully, the teacher walked into the classroom and saved me, Mrs Davis seemed like a nice woman, she had a friendly smile and roundish face, her hair tied back into a neat bun as she took a seat. Now I’ll save you the boring bits, she started the lesson with a pop quiz which was just plain rude, about halfway through it the door burst open and there stood my best friend in the entire world. Monica. I have to say I loved her new style, the schools P.E kit really brought out the judgement in her eyes, did you detect my sarcasm yet?.

You wanna know what made her entrance even more dramatic ? the lovely aroma of gone off milk and rotted banana skins that followed her around the room,  I could help the smirk on my face as everyone around me started gagging at the smell. If you ask me I reckon it’s an improvement, I mean she certainly captures the attention of everyone in the room. Monica’s face started to match her hair, quickly racing over to Mrs Davis to give her the tardy slip before taking her seat which just had to be across from me, whoopee for me. Eventually Mrs Davis got the attention back to her, carrying on with her lesson, which moved onto matching up the famous English literature quotes with the character and book. To be fair this was actually a load of fun for me, even if Steve butchered a line from Romeo and Juliet, I don’t remember Shakespeare saying, ‘ A rose by any other name would smell as bad’. The way I banged my head on the table made Annetta think I broke my neck. Fun times people.

Of course, my reaction didn’t escape Mrs Davis’s attention, just my luck eh?. “Miss y/n, seeing as you seem to know everything, answer me this. Elizabeth Bennet is a main character in a well-known book, she’s known for the quote ‘I am a no bird and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will’. The question is who is the author of this book is it A) Charles Dickens B) Jane Austen or C) Arthur Conan Doyle ?”. Is she being for real right now?. “Miss? With no disrespect the question itself is wrong, that wasn’t said by Elizabeth Bennet from pride and Prejudice, but said by Jane Eyre, and it was written by Charlotte Brontë”. A small smile spread across her face, which was confusing as all heck and a tad creepy to be honest, “very well-done Miss y/n, that’s the first time a student has gotten that question correct.”……

What in the name of ever-loving fluff just happened?….

So our girl is back and kicking butt! hopefully it’s not as bad as I think it is, and again I want to thank you all again for being so patient with me, good news is I’ve got the rest of the book written already! I’ll be posting them at least once a week.

Lots of love,

Rose xxx

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On

Ch 17-Let Me Take An Elfie…

Summary: Christmas arrives in the Adler household and its full of laughter, giggles, and one huge gift that money simply can’t buy…

Warnings:  Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  So, like, I’m over 2020 and wish it was Christmas already. This chapter brings Riding On Part 1 to a close and I’ll be likely taking a little break from writing this to concentrate on some stuff I have going on Stark Spangled for the Birthday Party! I hope you enjoy!

This one is dedicated to The Evangers…you know who you are!

Chapter Song:  I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday by Wizard (because who doesn’t?) 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

When the Snowman brings the snow, well he just might like to know, he’s put a great big smile on somebody’s face. If you jump into your bed, quickly cover up your head. Don’t you lock the doors, you know that sweet Santa Clause is on the way.

 Monday morning rolled round and for the first time in ages Frank woke well rested. After their plan had worked, he and Fliss had played the recording back to Greg who had been torn between calling them a pair of reckless dumbasses, and being elated with what it meant. Whilst he was unsure the court would permit it as evidence, he was going to have “some damned fun filing it anyway” and then set about giving them the final coaching for the Child Welfare Department interviews on Monday.

To Frank and Fliss, this was the final thing they could do. The last chance they had to get their feelings across and make a good impression before it was then over to the courts. And whilst Fliss was still hopeful that Polland would sign the papers as soon as he realised they had him on tape, Frank wasn’t quite as optimistic. So it was for that reason that over breakfast on the Monday he found himself rehearsing his speech to the Social Worker, just had he had done 2 years or so prior.

He needn’t have bothered though because, as Greg had predicted, the Social Workers discussion with him mainly centred on practical things such as Frank’s new job and his role, what Fliss did for a living, their new home and a little bit of digging into her background which was done sensitively and compassionately. It was the same Social Worker from 2 years back, a dark haired lady called Sarah Kellet, which Frnak was glad about, and she’d smiled when she’d run through things, checking all the facts that Greg had provided her before simply stating that was all she needed.

“What, no soul-searching questions?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Not this time.” she smiled “It’s a little different Mr Adler. You already have formal Guardianship over Mary so this isn’t about whether you’re suitable or not. This is really just a fact gathering exercise about whether or not formally providing you with Parental Status would be in her best interests.”

Frank swallowed and Fliss gently tangled her fingers in his as Sarah looked at them and smiled.

“Don’t worry.” She beamed. “When I spoke to Mary before it’s clear she’s exceptionally settled, and she adores her new brother as she refers to him as. You’ve created a very stable and loving environment for her, you’re financially credible, not that that’ the be all and end all, and you have a home, family support…all of this will be evidenced in my report.”

“So, do you make recommendations to the court?” Fliss asked and Sarah shook her head.

“Not as such, I’m merely here to pull together a factual, comprehensive report on how Mary is.” She tapped her pen slightly “And it’s always a little easier in cases like this when the minor has been in the care of the applicant prior to it. But, I will be making it quite clear in my conclusions that from the CWD point of view it would be in Mary’s best interests for the court to allow the adoption to go ahead, regardless of Mary’s father raising his objections. Basically if comes down to it, we’ll be fighting your corner.”

Fliss turned to Frank who let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and she smiled at him.

“So, that’s it.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ll send a copy of everything through to the courts and your attorney Mr Adler. All that’s left is for me to wish you both a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the hearing whenever that is.” They both rose, shaking her hand and then Frank held the door to the room open for Fliss. She stepped out in front of him, and turned to him smiling.

“That’s it.” She shrugged “We did everything we could.” “Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded “I’m just relieved it’s all over. Well, for now anyway.”

“Yup, so let’s get on with enjoying Christmas.” Fliss beamed as they walked down the corridor to the little area at the bottom where Mary was waiting. She was sat, reading a book being supervised by another one of the social workers and looked up, smiling as they entered. The woman who’d be supervising left them alone after bidding them goodbye and the three of them walked out to the truck.

“Think your mom and dad will be ok with Alex for a little longer?” Frank asked as Mary bounced ahead of them slightly.

“Sure, why?”

“I thought we could take her for a pizza and bowling, just the 3 of us before we pick Evelyn up from the airport.” Frank said “Been a while since we went.” “Yeah, sounds good.” Fliss beamed “I’ll call mum and let her know.”

Of course Verity and Bill were only too happy to keep Alex. Sian and the twins had arrived earlier that morning and Verity told Fliss that Sian was enjoying Auntie cuddles whilst batting her eyes at Steve asking him if he fancied another. Steve’s response had been to choke on his coffee. They headed to the bowling alley, where Fliss and Mary found to their delight that the skittles were all painted like elves for the festive period. They had 3 games and as usual they whooped Frank’s ass, leaving him in a fake mood declaring Christmas was cancelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth, Mary had vaulted onto his back causing him to laugh and attempt to pull her off. Eventually he succeeded and dangled her upside down by her ankles, the girl shrieking as he swung her round before setting her down.

“She’s getting a bit big to do that with now!” he looked at Fliss, letting out a huff as Mary righted her sweater and climbed into the truck.

“Well, she is 10 in a couple of months.” Fliss smiled and Frank shook his head.

“Don’t remind me.”

Fliss chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and the 3 of them headed off to the airport to collect Evelyn. They stood in the arrival lounge, Frank’s arm tossed over Fliss’ shoulders and Fliss could tell he was a little apprehensive. This was the first time he’d seen Evelyn since she had admitted outright she’d bribed Polland to give evidence. He’d told Fliss he wasn’t sure how he was going to react, that he didn’t want to be angry, but he couldn’t help it. Fliss had simply told him that they’d deal with whatever happened when it came.

As Evelyn walked through the glass double doors, pulling a huge case behind her, Mary shot forwards to greet her and the woman bent down, giving her a cuddle. Once more it struck Frank just how different it all was to the first meeting they’d had just over 2 years ago and as he watched his mother gently smooth Mary’s hair back any anger he was feeling simply dissipated. He knew only too well after the events of the last few years, he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure history never repeated itself. He watched as Mary and his mother made their way over to him and he took a deep breath as Evelyn glanced up at him, her face wrought with worried anticipation. She opened her mouth to say something, and Frank knew full well it was going to be an apology so he shook his head.

“It’s done.” He said simply “And I don’t wanna waste a single second more thinking about it, ok mom?”

Evelyn nodded, tears filling her eyes, and then in a sudden display of affection she moved to embrace him. It was a little stiff but Frank didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around his mother in a gentle hug before he pulled away and took her bag off her.

When they reached Bill and Verity’s neither Frank nor Fliss was surprised to find that Verity had laid a spread on. She loved entertaining and so had taken it upon herself to pull together a buffet consisting of a selection of cold meats, breads, crudités, dips and savoury snacks along with a huge plate of her infamous brownies. No sooner had Frank walked into the kitchen he had a beer thrust into his hand by Steve who winked at him and he turned to Fliss a little sheepishly with a shrug.

“I’ll drive home.” She rolled her eyes playfully as she gently turned Alex so that he was against her chest, head raised slightly as he looked around.

“Oh fuck that.” Evelyn said, taking the red wine that Bill handed her as Frank gave a snort at his mother’s language, not that it surprised him, she’d always been quite colourful that way despite her proper appearance and professional demeanour “We’ll get a cab. It’s Christmas.” “See, she gets it!” Steve nodded to Evelyn who simply shrugged and took a sip of her wine before she set it down on the kitchen counter.

“May I?” she asked Fliss, gesturing to Alex and Fliss smiled.

“Of course, here…” she passed him over and Evelyn looked at the baby who broke into a gummy smile.

“He gets more like you ever time I see him.” Evelyn whispered, looking at Frank who smiled.

“Yeah, so I’m told” he shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance but as Fliss looked at him smirking he knew he had failed. He fucking loved the fact his boy looked like him, it massaged his ego and he didn’t care one iota about how smug it made him appear.

After Mary, Charlie and Joel had eaten, the three of them headed upstairs to the movie room, arms laden with snacks as Bill put The Santa Clause on the large screen and the adults all settled in the living room. Evelyn asked if she could feed Alex and Frank obliged, handing her the baby and the bottle. There was a little more chat before Verity cleared her throat and addressed the huge elephant in the room.

“So, how did it go with the social worker kids?”

Fliss and Frank exchanged a glance before Frank smiled “Good, really good. In fact, she said in her conclusion they’ll recommend the adoption is processed regardless of any objections but, we’ll see. For now we’ve done everything we can so it’s down to the court in the New Year.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s great, that’s really….great.” Bill said, nodding as his eyes misted over and Verity stood up, moving to give Fliss a cuddle as her eyes had filled at the sight of her father’s emotions. Frank could feel the tears stabbing at his eyes too so, under the guise of nipping to the bathroom he took a moment and headed through the kitchen and out of the bi-folding doors, stepping onto the veranda which overlooked the landscaped garden and pool area.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t been out there that long when he heard someone behind him. A tumbler of scotch was pushed into his hand and he looked up as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Thought you might need that.” He said, as he set the bottle and his own glass down on the table, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he sparked it up he took a drag, blowing it out to the side taking care to remain hidden.

“Fucking 38 and still hiding the fact I smoke from my mum.” Steve snorted and Frank shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you Steeb but she knows.” He chuckled at the look on Steve’s face “She was complaining to Fliss about it the other day.” “No shit.” Steve muttered, “Oh, well, fuck it…”

Frank laughed again and took a sip of his drink before he asked Steve about the house he was purchasing just out east of Tampa. Steve explained the sale was going through now and they should be ready to move in towards the middle of January.

“Good.” Frank nodded “If you need a hand, moving and stuff, just holler. Lord knows you did enough for us, I’d be glad to help.” “Don’t worry you will be.” Steve smirked and Frank snorted.

“How’s Sian taking to the move? Fliss said she was a little apprehensive.” “Yeah, she was.” Steve shrugged “But she’s also excited. I mean of course she’s nervous to leave her family behind but she knows it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on, and it won’t be forever. Probably about 5 years or so and we’ll head back home.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Frank said, knocking back his scotch.

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, his voice coming out as a slight mumble as he held his cigarette between his lips so he could top Frank’s glass up again.

“Well-cheers-“ Frank nodded, taking the tumbler off him “-it’s like Fliss said, once this place gets it’s claws into you, you kinda grow to love it.”

Steve chuckled and dropped his now done dab end onto the floor under his foot before he bent down and retrieved it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later.

“So, Fliss told you that we got family coming out this New Year?” Steve asked.

“She mentioned one of her cousins…” Frank paused “Tabs was it?”

“Babs.” Steve corrected “We got 4, there’s Eva who’s married to a Police Officer called Ari, Jen who’s married to a lawyer called Andy and Amber who is married to Curtis…” “He the train mechanic?” Frank racked his memory and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, they all still live in Liverpool but Babs, the one that’s coming…she’s something else.” Steve snorted. “She lives in Australia with a photographer called Hugh. Well, I say photographer, he’s kind of a trust fund rich boy that plays at it, you know? Nice enough guy though, always happy to shout you on a night out.”

“So they making a special trip over or…” “They’re taking some kind of sabbatical, if you can take a sabbatical from doing fuck all.” Steve shrugged “6 month tour of the US starting here. She’s fucking great fun though. Her and Fliss are the same age and were thick as thieves growing up, used to get into all sorts of mischief.” He shook his head. “They once set fire to a bin on a park. By accident mind. They were pretending to smoke these hollow twig things stuffed with dried grass and when one set on fire Babs panicked and tossed it into the bin.” Frank snorted as Steve continued.

“The whole thing went up.” Steve chuckled “So they legged it and got followed home by an off duty copper. Dad and Uncle Ted went ballistic…

“Wait…you dad’s brother is called Ted?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, Bill and Ted.” Steve grinned. Frank looked at him, before the pair of them burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It wasn’t that funny, it really wasn’t, but the more Steve laughed, the more Frank did, and the more Frank laughed, the more Steve died. By the time Frank managed to control himself he had tears of pure mirth in his eyes and he wiped them as his laughter subsided and he managed to take a breath, clutching at his side.

“What you two laughing at?” Fliss asked, stepping outside.

“Your face.” Steve shot back.

“Twat.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him and she turned to Frank who was still chuckling “And I don’t know what you find so funny…”

“Nothing at all baby.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head, “Nothing at all.” ******

There were sore heads in the Adler household the next day. They’d stayed at Bill and Verity’s till well past midnight, and had left Mary there as she’d passed out asleep with the twins in the movie room. After they’d managed to herd all the kids to bed, the adults had continued drinking and eventually called it a night when Bill had fallen asleep in his arm chair, dropping his glass of brandy all over the floor.

Fliss had stable duties that morning, and took off early even though she felt she was still half drunk and when she returned a few hours later Frank and Evelyn were sat at the breakfast bar, each nursing cups of coffee and looking half dead. Eventually they all managed to muster enough about themselves to shower, dress and head over to pick Mary up. Frank was low-key pleased to see Steve looked worse than he felt and after a quick coffee they set off into the little town to have a walk round the Christmas Stalls that had been set up before they grabbed a bite to eat and Evelyn started telling Fliss a few stories about Frank and Diane when they had been children at Christmas.

“I think my personal favourite will be the carol service when you were 6.” Evelyn looked at Frank and he groaned taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his chair “He has a lovely voice you know and that year he was selected to do a solo.” “We don’t need to hear this…” Frank started to protest but Fliss cut him off.

“Yes we do, go on Evelyn.”

“So his particular hymn was Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. And the line ‘God and sinners reconciled’ was proving a little tricky for him as he rehearsed.”

“I was 6.” Frank deadpanned.

“I’m well aware, it still doesn’t stop it being funny.” Evelyn grinned “So up he gets, sings out the song note and word perfect until he gets to this line and belts out ‘God and sinners dressed in style’”

Fliss snorted and Mary let out a howl of laughter.

“You’re such a loser” she looked at him

“Quit it or you’ll be getting no presents tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever”

“Hey, do you remember that year grandpa sent us nothing?” Frank suddenly had a recollection and he looked at Evelyn who let out a loud laugh.

“God yes, you and Diane were disgusted!”

“Oh, the last year before he died-“ Frank started to explain as Fliss looked at him blankly “-well, he was clearly feeling his age and found that shopping for Christmas gifts had become too difficult. So he decided to send checks to everyone instead. In each card he wrote, ‘Buy your own present!’ and mailed them early. Only when we opened them, there was no check…he’d forgotten to enclose them with the cards.”

“So you all literally got a card with ‘buy your own present’ written inside?” Fliss laughed and Frank chuckled

“Yeah, which to be fair dad thought was hilarious but…poor Grandpa was devastated. He tried to blame Santa, of course, but it didn’t wash.”

“That’s because Santa isn’t real.” Mary looked at him.

“Yes he is.” Fliss sighed “I’m not having this debate with you again.” “You said yourself the other day that Frank was incapable of organising anything because he was a man so how could one dude organise gifts for the entire world?” Mary looked at her and Frank turned his head slowly to Fliss.

“Oh, you did, did you?”

Fliss hesitated, before she sighed “Come on, your organisational skills at home are ridiculous.”

“Do our bills get paid on time?”

“Yes, but-“

“Have either of the kids died yet?”

“No…” Fliss laughed.

“Then we’re good!” Frank shrugged, his hand gently dropping to his son’s tummy as he lay asleep in the stroller parked next to him “I find your lack of faith disturbing. And if we’re being sexist, I know Santa is a man as a woman wouldn’t be able to hack driving a sleigh around for a night, not to mention the complete mess she’d make trying to park it…”

“Wow!” Fliss looked at him as he laughed, “Ok, buddy, I bed I can think of 5 reasons why I would jump at the chance to be Santa.”

“Go on.” He teased and Fliss held up her hand, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

“One, I could grow to the size of Hawaii knowing it’s simply all part of the job. Two, I’d simply be able to buy one big, black belt, and brass buckle, and be accessorized for life. Three there would be no reason to have my hair colour done. Four, everyone would be extremely nice to me, regardless of my behaviour and five, if people commented that my belly jiggled when I laughed I could hit them with my purse.”

“Six…” Evelyn picked up as Frank laughed “You would always work in sensible footwear”

Frank shook his head “She always is anyway, not like you wear high heels to ride horses in and muck out stalls…”

“Those boots hurt when they’re not worn in.” Mary jabbed back “I know.”

With a snort Frank leaned back and looked down at Alex “Buddy, you better hurry up and start talking, I need someone here to even out the numbers.”

After another hour or so, when it was dark, they headed home and Evelyn bid them all a good night, heading to her guest suite above the garage to read and relax, declining their offer to join them for a drink stating she’d had quite enough the night before.

Mary wasn’t far behind, the excitement of the last few days having wiped her out, plus as she reminded Frank and Fliss, the sooner she went to bed the sooner it would be present time. She headed off for a bath before she settled down with her book upstairs and an hour or so later Frank went up to took her in, finding her fast asleep with Fred curled around her head.

It wasn’t even 8:30 pm and Fliss and Frank were all set for the evening. Presents wrapped, kids settled, and Frank had just moved to grab them a beer each when his phone sounded in his pocket.  He glanced at the shitty Nokia he was being forced to use after smashing his Samsung against the wall and frowned.

“It’s Greg.” He said before he answered. “Hey man.”

“S’up, listen, you guys free if I pop in for 5? I got a Christmas card for you and I forgot to drop it off earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank chuckled. “Just come on round the back, gate and the door are open.”

“No worries pal, see you in 15.”

“He coming over?” Fliss asked as Frank tossed the phone down on the side.

“Yeah, just for 5 minutes. Says he has a card for us.”

“A card?”

“Yeah, you know what he’s like. He’s probably had it for weeks and forgotten about it.” Frank shrugged, passing Fliss an open beer as they both crossed to the sofa. They settled down to watch the Christmas special of Brooklyn 99 and true to his word, Greg walked in 15 minutes or so later.

“Hey Greg, you want a beer?” Frank stood up, gesturing to the kitchen area.

“No I can’t stay, I just wanted to give you this before tomorrow.”

Frank paused and took the envelope off him. “This isn’t a card?” he frowned.

“No, it’s a little better than that.” Greg beamed as Fliss rose to her feet, crossing to where Frank was stood. With a frown, Frank turned the envelope over, opened it and as his eyes scanned the piece of paper he felt his mouth grow dry and his heart suddenly pounded so hard he felt it was going to thump right out of his chest.

“He signed the papers…” Frank whispered, swallowing as he looked at the document in his hands. “Lissy, Polland…he signed the adoption papers.”

“What?” Fliss breathed out as she took it from him, her eyes roving the wording before she looked at Frank, then Greg. “I- when?”

“I had a call earlier this afternoon saying they were dropping the objection.” Greg smiled. “Seems he suddenly had a change of heart when his Attorney told him he was on tape confessing to taking a bung and attempting to blackmail Fliss. I won’t tell you what he called him, it was a 4 letter word and ended in t…pretty sure you can fill in the gaps.” He nodded to the paper in Fliss hand “I asked him to hurry that through and it arrived about half an hour before I called. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“So…we don’t need to go to court?” Frank breathed out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Greg shook his head “There’ll be a finalisation hearing in January but coupled with that and the CWD report it’s gonna simply be a formality. It’s as good as done.” “So, we’re…” Fliss took a deep breath “We’re gonna be her parents?”

Greg nodded. “Yup.”

Frank was struggling for words as he looked at his best friend before he pulled him into a huge bro hug. He stepped back, wiping his eyes as Fliss moved forward to hug Greg too, before they both walked him to his car.

“I owe you, big time.” Frank croaked and Greg waved him away as he opened the door to his Merc.

“I told you it would work out.” He shrugged, smiling broadly. “Merry Christmas guys.”

The two of them waved him off before Fliss turned to Frank, her tears falling down her cheeks “I can’t believe it…” “Me neither.” Frank spluttered and Fliss leaped into his arms, the pair of them laughing in sheer joy. Even thought they’d thrown themselves into the holiday spirit, neither of them had been able to shake that little feeling that a small, dark cloud was still following them. And now that was gone.

It was over. All over. They’d won.

Fliss and Frank headed back inside, both resisting the urge to wake Mary to tell her, deciding they’d leave it for the morning, but they absolutely did decide to crack a bottle of champagne open.

But Frank had an even better idea, one that came to him on a whim as they walked back through their garden. Silently he disappeared into the little laundry room at the side of the kitchen and when he emerged, Fliss had her back to him so she didn’t see him deposit the 2 pool towels on the breakfast bar. He moved to where she reaching for two champagne flutes, and as she stood on her tiptoes, he wrapped his arms around her from behind causing her to jump a little.

“I can’t believe it.” Fliss whispered “I mean I hoped he’d back down but…”

“I know” Frank kissed her neck tenderly “Another huge Christmas Eve huh? Second one in a row?”

Yeah.” She sighed happily, her hands falling on top of his arms, rubbing gently. “You know last year I was so nervous when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So was I, and that was before you told me that bit of news.” He smiled, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’d been trying to propose for ages. I was shitting my pants it was gonna go wrong or you’d turn me down.”

“Not a chance Sailor.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re stuck with me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and the pair of them stood in silence in their kitchen, lost in their own thoughts, simply looking out of the window over their garden which was illuminated softly by the lighting round the pool area. Eventually Frank remembered his original plan and he smiled to himself.

“So all the presents are wrapped, everyone’s in bed waiting for the big guy with the sack to arrive…” Frank muttered, his lips grazing her neck “The pool heaters have been on all day…what about a Christmas Eve dip?”

Fliss turned in his arms, arching an eyebrow “Would you merely be trying to get me naked Francis?”

“Yes.” He nodded and she giggled.

“Skinny dipping? On Christmas Eve?”

“You lost your sense of adventure Cowgirl?” he teased.

Fliss peered round him to where Alex was sleeping in the basinet and with a grin pulled back and whipped off her T-shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

Frank laughed and caught the top as she threw it at him, tossing it to the side as he grabbed the towels. By the time he caught up with her outside Fliss was on the edge of the pool in nothing but her baby-blue cotton panties and his eyes scanned up her legs and the rest of her body until they locked onto hers. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her underwear and Frank felt his cock twitch as she turned and coyly shot him a look over her shoulder before she descended down the mosaic tiled steps at the shallow end of the pool.  

Not wanting to waste a second more he threw the towels down on one of the sun loungers and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of his grey t-shirt. He pulled it off before be quickly undid his belt and in one swoop yanked down his loose jeans and boxers.

Fliss dropped off the bottom step, her shoulders dipping under the warm water as she turned to watch Frank following her in, her eyes trailing up from his knees over his thighs, semi-erect cock which stood beneath that happy trail that led down his slim, flat yet ever so slightly soft stomach and up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Her eyes moved to his handsome face, the stubble on his jaw line always gave him a more rugged look and his short hair was spiked up messily as it usually was at the end of the day.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

And not just on the outside. Even before the events of the last few weeks Fliss knew her man was the most caring, wonderful and doting father and lover on the planet but since the issue with Polland had raised its head she'd seen a side to him that she had only ever caught glimpses of before. A softer, vulnerable side and it filled her heart with even more love for him for reasons she couldn't explain other than it just did. He wasn't afraid to show weakness to her, he wasn't ashamed to tell her his fears. Because they were a true partnership. And as she watched him crouch down so his body was submerged in the water, his eyes sparkling in the lights, she felt an unnerving spike of desire that was so strong it surged right from her toes up her body, leaving her slightly fuzzy headed, like she was drunk on love. 

Frank cocked his head playfully to the side as Fliss gracefully pushed off the ball of her foot and swam towards him before she twisted in the water slightly and brought her legs out in front of her. She wrapped them round his waist, settling herself on his lap as his large hands gently splayed on her back. Fliss nuzzled her nose against his chin, nudging his head back so she could chain soft kisses across his jaw line, her lips skating the bristles on his face as she gently nipped at his skin. Frank let out a soft sigh, his hands pulling her closer as she moved her affections down his neck, over his Adam’s apple before she gently sucked at the junction of his shoulder and neck, grinding down on him, her bare core slicking over his cock.

"Fuck, Liss..." he stuttered, pulling back to look at her, the water sloshing around them "what's got into you, pretty girl?"

"Nothing yet." She purred back.

Frank looked at her, but before he could make a smart reply she’d dropped her hand from his shoulder into the pool and wrapped her palm around him making him choke on his words slightly as she stroked him with a few quick flicks of her wrist.

“Jesus baby…” he managed to croak as her eyes locked onto his and a smirk curled on her lips. She leaned forwards, her teeth nipping at his ear and he gave a soft groan, his head falling back slightly as she continued to work him, her hand pumping up and down his now rock hard dick. And then she stopped, and he felt her mouth curve open and her breath was hot on his skin as she whispered 3 words that sent red hot fire coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck me, Sailor.”

He didn’t need asking twice. 

Fliss moved herself, guiding him to where she wanted and she sank down onto his length, his hands grabbing her hips as she took him in completely, a low, drawn out gasp escaping her lips as Frank hissed slightly as her walls clamped around him. He gave himself a moment, enjoying the feel of her before he thrust upwards, his fingers curling around her soft flesh as he drew back slowly, before pushing back into her deeply, rotating his hips. Fliss’ hands curled around his shoulders, her head tipping back, eyes closed in pleasure, the action causing her breasts to rise out of the water. Keeping his rhythm slow and deep he dipped his head, his tongue tracing a stripe down her cleavage, the salty tang of the pool water hitting his taste buds as he directed his attention to her nipple, flicking and sucking softly, all the time listening and feeling her reactions as she pushed down further against him, desperate for more. For whatever reason, Fliss was in a downright filthy mood and Frank had a feeling that slow and steady wasn’t going to be enough. He moved his mouth, nipping up her neck before his lips pressed onto hers, the kiss filthy as his tongue fucked her mouth and he pulled back as he began to back himself up to the side of the pool.

With a quick movement he turned so Fliss’s back was against the tiled edge, and he looked at her as she stared at him, her deep brown eyes wide with lust as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

“Turn around.” He instructed, his voice low and Fliss complied, moving off him and spinning in the water. One large hand slid up her spine to her neck and his fingers gently curled around her nape as he pushed her forwards slightly, before he slid both his hands up her arms and directed her hands to grip at the lip of the pool.

Fliss’ body was tingling with anticipation. Her palms gripped round the rough surface of the pool edge as she surrendered to Frank’s control, his chest pressing against her back, lips sucking at her neck.

“If this is too much, tell me…” he whispered against her skin. Fliss tilted her face round to look at him, seeing those ocean blues she loved shining with love and what looked like a slight glimmer of concern. And she knew why. Whilst their sex was hot, passionate, loving, it was very rarely rough because he didn’t want to push her too far knowing her past. But she wanted this, she needed it. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“I trust you.” She promised him gently and Frank kissed her again before he pulled away. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up so her feet planted on the floor of the pool as he rose to his, the water lapping around his thighs as he buried himself into her with one swift movement. He pulled out slowly before he thrust back into her, grinding against her as she gasped, her head tilting backwards as he continued rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his movements gathering pace until he built up into a fast, relentless rhythm, every drive into her jolting her forwards slightly as she braced herself against the edge with her arms, elbows locked to absorb the shock. Pants, whimpers, soft cries and the debauched sound of sloshing and skin slapping skin filled the otherwise silent night air of the garden and Frank dropped his eyes to the point where he was pounding in and out of his girl, the sight of where they were joined was hot as fuck and he let out a groan as he watched for a second, before his eyes flicked back up to Fliss. Her head was dropped between her arms, slightly twisted to the right and he could see her eyes were closed, jaw slack, full lips open in a silent cry.

As he continued his powerful, fast thrusts, his cock brushed occasionally against that spot inside and Fliss felt the coil in her belly beginning to tighten slowly, each time he hit it. Frank adjusted his stance and bent over, his right hand falling over hers as he too braced himself against the edge of the pool, giving a dirty grind and Fliss cried out loudly at the sensation.

“Fuck, right there…” she encouraged and Frank repeated the movement again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he was fighting the urge he was feeling to come.

“Liss, shit…” he gasped, his left hand dropping between her legs, coaxing her clit and after a few strong strokes Fliss arched her back, her head following as she let out a cry of his name as the world tilted on its axis, her orgasm rocking her to her very core. The feeling was too much for Frank and with a loud moan that rumbled from his chest he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pumped through his own release before he stilled, his head bowing as he waited for the surge of ecstasy to dissipate.

Eventually the fog lifted enough so that he was able to bend his knees slightly, and with the arm that was curled around Fliss’ waist he turned them in the water. Fliss was near dead weight and went with him obligingly, his cock still buried in her as he pivoted and dropped down so that his back was against the wall of the pool and she sat on his lap, the water gently splashing around their shoulders.

Frank cradled her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave a low hum of satisfaction, her head falling back against his shoulder, a smile flickering across her lips.

“You know…” Frank mumbled after a little moment of silence “Cowgirls will always be my favourite, even in reverse.”

Fliss gave a soft chuckle as she opened her eyes and titled her head to look at him. “I prefer sailors…” she smirked and he laughed, pressing his lips to hers.

“You ok?” he asked, as her hands fell over his arms, fingers softly skating up his wet skin and she gave a nod.

“Never better.” She affirmed.

“Good.” He kissed her temple. “You wanna get out or…”

“No, I’m good here for a while.” She purred and he smiled, his mouth dropping to her shoulder where he pressed another kiss to her skin.

Eventually Fliss reluctantly conceded that they probably should get out as Alex would want feeding again any time soon. But, not wanting the moment to end, Frank suggested that whilst she showered he could do the feed and light the fire-pit. Fliss agreed and after wrapping herself in a towel she kissed him again and headed upstairs. Frank dried himself off, located his T-shirt and shrugged it on, leaving the towel round his waist as he warmed a bottle for his now grumbling son. By the time Fliss came back down stairs in her plaid sleep pants and tank, Alex was just finishing up. Frank passed him over, and they both headed back outside. Once the fire was lit Frank scooted off for a quick shower and returned 10 minutes later to find Alex settled once more in the basinet, tucked snuggly under his Christmas blanket that was decorated with little Santa’s and trees, his eyes roaming the starry sky.  Fliss sat with her legs under a tartan fleece on the outside sofa, the bottle of champagne stood in the middle of the table in an ice bucket and either side of it rested two full flutes. With a satisfied sigh Frank sat next to her, reaching for his drink and resting his feet on the table as Fliss snuggled under his arm. The pair of them clinked their glasses together, shared another soft kiss and settled into a soft chatter.

It was cosy, domestic, loving, and everything Fliss had ever dreamed of having, but never in a million years thinking she’d experience, and as they sat talking and laughing, speculating about Mary’s reaction the news of her adoption being tomorrow, she felt herself suddenly choked with emotion and she sat up, looking at her man.

“I think she’s gonna...” Frank trailed off, frowning at the look on Fliss’ face “Hey, honey what’s wrong?” “Absolutely nothing.” She muttered, clambering onto his lap so she was straddling him, jolting the glass he was holding a little and sending some of the Moet spilling onto the patio.

“You sure?” he titled his head to look at her and she nodded, sniffing back her tears as she kissed him, her hands running through his messy hair.

“I’m just so happy Frank, I can’t stop thinking about how much I lucked out.” She whispered as she pulled away and Frank smiled against her mouth.

“I think I’m the one that lucked out.” He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to smooth her hair back slightly.

“Maybe we can agree we’re both lucky bastards” she grinned and he chuckled, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I can live with that.” He agreed.

******

For the second day in a row Frank and Fliss woke with hangovers, as post the champagne they hit the bourbon and didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Now it was half 6 and Frank wasn’t impressed that he was going to have to deal with a hyper 9 year old who was currently bouncing on his bed, a 16 week old and his mother with a headache and only 4 and a half hours sleep.

After they sat and opened the gifts in their stocking, Frank telling Fliss to leave the thin, flat box until she was alone, they headed downstairs. Frank grinned at Fliss as Mary bust into the family room and glanced at the presents which were arranged in a pile by the sofa. The three of them exchanged their gifts, Fliss being especially delighted with her Spa Day voucher from Mary and Alex, which Frank informed her Simon had also gotten one for Bonnie so they could go together. Frank had also bought her a few new pairs of riding breeches, signed her up for a year’s subscription to Kindle Unlimited, a few more items of clothing, a 3 Pandora charms in the shape of the letters, F, M and A meaning she had one for them all and a stunning silver and diamond necklace and earring set from Tiffany’s which Fliss gasped at when she opened. In contrast Fliss had bought Frank a new phone from Alex and Mary to replace the one he’d smashed against the wall, a few T-shirts and then cryptically told him the biggest gift from her was yet to come.

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” he leaned over and asked her semi-seriously.

“Fuck, no!” she spluttered and he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s just a little big…you’ll see.”

Before he could press her any further, Mary gave a loud shriek as she unwrapped the hooded top that was decorated the same as her Gillet and grinned, jamming it on over her pyjama top. Frank laughed as she did a parade in front of them before she paused, looking at the door to the little room off the kitchen. Frank had covered over the door frame in wrapping paper as it held her big present and Mary looked at it, before she turned to Frank and Fliss, frowning.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Frank teased “Why don’t you go through and see?”

Mary looked at the pair of them again before she ran over, her reindeer slippers padding over the floor and she tore through the paper, pushing the door open.

Frank curled his arm round Fliss, kissed the side of her head as they followed her into the room where Mary was stood, gaping around.

As a surprise they’d turned it into a little sitting room of sorts for her. Over the last 4 weeks they had meticulously emptied it of the crap that had been in there since they’d moved in and they’d completely re-decorated it. Frank had painted a pale yellow on 3 of the walls, the 4th at the back was papered with a huge picture of Monty in the pasture. Her show rosettes were hung on a trellis which Frank had screwed to the wall with plenty of space for more and on the shelving unit which housed a large, flat screen Tv, Blu-ray player and Android box were positioned a few photos of various family shots. To finish the room off, 2 huge bean bags were placed in the middle of the room which were big enough for Fliss and Frank to lie in (they'd had a lot of fun trying them out) and there was a small desk in the corner along with an office chair. But it was the electronic keyboard nestled in the corner of the wall that held the TV that caught Mary’s eye.

As Fred sauntered in and hopped up on a bean bag as if he owned the place, Mary walked over to the keyboard running her hands along it before she turned to look at the two adults, her mouth hanging open.

“We thought you might like a place to hang out or chillax or whatever it is you kids do now...” Frank smiled “You know, instead of always needing to go to your room when Rosie or whoever comes over. You can study in here too as well.”

“And trust me you'll want your own space once this monster starts crawling.” Fliss smiled, readjusting Alex in her arms slightly.

“I love it…” Mary gasped, looking around her eyes brimming “My own special living room…and a sort of piano.”

“Well, you keep up your lessons with Nanny V and we might, and I mean might, get you a real one” Frank smiled and Mary beamed at him before she shot over to the pair of them. Frank picked her up with a groan and kissed her cheek.

“Rosie is gonna be well jel.” She giggled and Frank laughed as Mary leaned over to kiss Fliss’ cheek.

“There’s something in the desk for you too.” Frank took a deep breath, setting Mary down on the floor. As she walked over the room, Frank moved, his arm hooking round Fliss’ waist as they watched her open the lid of the desk and take out the envelope. With a frown she pulled it open and her eyes widened as she looked at the detail.

“Is this…” she started breathing deeply, her gaze shooting up to Frank’s, her eyes filling with tears “He…”

Frank nodded, his own eyes pricking with tears “Yeah, he signed the papers Stack.”

“So, I’m…I’m adopted?” she stuttered.

“Not quite but…” Frank sniffed, “It’s about as good as done, yeah. Greg got those yesterday.”

As Mary looked back down at the paper in her hand, Frank spotted a tear fall from her face and then he frowned as he saw her legs starting to shake. In a flash he was by her side, catching her as she dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the paper scrunching slightly in her hand as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and began to cry.

Frank pressed his face into her hair, trying desperately to keep his own tears from falling but failing miserably. Fliss was already gone, and she moved to walk towards them, dropping gently to her knees, Alex held safely in her arms.

“We’re gonna be a proper family.” Mary sobbed and Frank stuttered a laugh as he pulled back to look down at her.

“Mary, baby, we already were.” His voice cracked and she nodded against his neck, before she started to cry again. At that point Thor walked into the room and pushed his nose straight in between Mary and Frank, licking her face and letting out soft little whines.

Mary giggled and grabbed his fur gently “Thor, get off you doofus…”

“Is everything ok?” a voice made all of them look up to see Evelyn in the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown and slippers. Frank, who had momentarily forgotten he’d text her to come join them, looked up through his tears and nodded. Fliss took the paper out of Mary’s hand and held it out to Evelyn. She gently gripped it, her eyebrows raised slightly, and then her hand flew to her mouth when she read the writing.

“Oh, that’s….that’s fantastic!” she sniffed, “Really…”

Mary, whose sobs had now subsided suddenly pulled back from Frank and looked at Fliss, “We need to give Frank his present!”

“Yup, we do!”

“Yeah, what…” Frank frowned “I’m kinda scared about this you know.” “Oh trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!” Mary grinned, before she stood up straight.

“Why don’t you let me watch Alex whilst you head out?” Evelyn smiled and Fliss handed him over to his grandmother before the three of them headed to the hallway. Fliss fished the garage keys off the hooks by the door and tossed them to Frank who caught them in his right hand.

“You’re gonna need those” she smiled. Frank arched an eyebrow as he shoved on his sneakers but didn’t say anything as they headed out into the December sun, making their way over the drive.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” he paused, the keys in the door.

“No.” Mary grinned. With one final, suspicious look at them he flung the up-and-over door open and stopped dead as he looked into the now full space of the double garage, his mouth hanging open.

In front of him was a fairly large boat. It had a covered lower deck area which housed the main engine and cockpit and a large, open flat stern area with benches. It was old, and in need of a fuck tonne of work but Frank was absolutely over the moon.

“Holy shit. You…you bought me a boat?” he turned to Fliss who grinned and nodded.

“I suppose technically I bought us a boat, but…” she shrugged as Frank moved over to examine it. He ran his hands over the hull, which was sound enough considering the state the rest of it was in and he turned to Fliss, his handsome face splitting into a huge smile.  

“It’s a wreck, I love it!” he beamed and Fliss grinned as he took her face in both hands and kissed her “Thank you baby.” “Well I thought about getting a newer one but I know you’ve always wanted to do your own up” she smiled as he pulled away “Plus, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you full of grease again.”

He grinned and arched an eyebrow before he kissed her again and Mary made a gagging noise. He turned to her, playfully swatting at her head and the 3 of them made their way back to the house, Frank casting a loving glance at his newest prized possession before he pulled the door down and locked it.

They exchanged gifts with Evelyn over breakfast, both Mary and Alex’s piles in the living room were significantly larger when they finished opening the bags full each and then following a breakfast of pancakes and bacon which was made whilst dancing around the kitchen to various Christmas songs, Fliss and Mary headed over to the yard to see to the horses and sneak a quick ride in before they needed to head over to Bill and Verity’s.

Fliss opted to shower first so she could get Alex ready and once she was alone she took her time to open the present Frank had told her to leave until later. As she pulled off the wrapping paper she smiled to herself as she saw the Victoria Secrets box and lifted the lid off, gently pulling back the pink tissue wrapping. Biting her lip she pulled out the sheer gold negligee, which was beautiful and rather classy as well, before she placed it back in the box and headed into the bathroom.

Just as she’d finished dressing Frank walked into their room, Alex in his arms and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

“I opened it…” Fliss smiled against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm” she affirmed “I happen to think I suit gold.”

Frank smiled “I’m sure you do.”

She grinned and took Alex off him before she headed out of the room, Frank watching her go before he stripped off his clothing and headed into the bathroom.

20 minutes or so later, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red and blue flannel button down, he wandered into the family room and stopped dead as he caught sight of Alex’s outfit.

“Lissy, what the fuck is my boy wearing?” Frank stared at the baby who was sat on Mary’s knee on the sofa, dressed in a green elf onesie. It had a black strip round the middle with a little yellow belt buckle detail, and the collar was red and ruffled. The legs were red and white hooped, just like tights, and on his head sat a red and green hat. As Frank stared at him in disbelief, Alex gazed up at his dad and let out a loud excited noise and waved his hands and legs.

“He looks cute, Frank.” Mary grinned, herself dressed in a white little blouse detailed with christmas patterns. Fliss walked over from the kitchen where she had been boxing up the sugar cookies she had made and grinned as Frank glared at her, pointing to Alex.

“He’s a fucking elf.” He deadpanned. “In tights.”

“Language.” Fliss slapped his arm lightly before she shrugged and gestured to her own Christmas sweater which depicted Santa stuck upside down in a chimney “It’s Christmas.” Frank shook his head. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Don’t be a scrooge.” Mary grinned and Frank shot her a glare, before he glanced at his son again, shaking his head. Alex seemed absolutely nonplussed at the fact his Mother had dressed him in the utterly stupid get up and Frank turned, shaking his head as Fliss smirked at him.

“Everyone is gonna laugh at him.” He pouted and Fliss snorted

“No they’re not!”

Frank knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, Fliss was as big a child as anyone when it came to Christmas, but he was damned if he was going to let his boy be the subject of ridicule without a fight. But whatever protest he had left died in his throat as at that point Evelyn walked back into the room, a few more gift bags in her hands for Fliss’ family and Roberta and let out a little chuckle.

“Oh my God, doesn’t he look adorable.” She clapped her hands and walked towards her grandson.

Fliss bit her lip, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the utter indignation on Frank’s face as he rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated growl as she slid her arms up round his neck. “Fine, just…whatever.” He sighed as she pulled his head down to hers, catching his lips in a soft peck. “Poor kid’s gonna grow up with a complex” he mumbled against her mouth “First the dinosaur outfit at Halloween, now this…”

“Well, so he doesn’t feel too bad, I got you a matching jumper.”

“Yeah Frank, you can put it on and then we can all take an elfie with your new phone, geddit?” Mary grinned and Fliss snorted. Frank pulled back and glared at Mary “Over my dead body.” “Can be arranged.” She retorted, and at that Fliss and Evelyn burst into laughter.

“Well that’s just mean.” Frank pouted and Fliss grinned, standing on her tiptoes.

“I’ll make it up to you later Sailor.” She whispered, her lips brushing his ear “I’ll let you decide if gold really is my colour for yourself…”

“Yeah?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hands dropping to her hips.

“If you wear the sweater…” “That’s…that’s blackmail.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I know.” She pulled back, turning to Mary and Evelyn. “Ok, shall we load the cars up? Mary you wanna ride with me or Frank?”

“Who’s goin’ to get Roberta?”

“Frank.” Fliss said “I’m taking Alex and Thor…and Fred.” She added as an after-thought. “Then I’ll go with him.” She nodded “That ok?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, her hand dropping to Mary’s head.

There was a sudden, excited bustle around the room as everyone moved to get their things together…and Frank went upstairs to change into his new elf sweater.

[blushing-starker]

Another holiday one: Peter and Pepper going caroling together and they visit Tony in the workshop. The bots are wearing Santa hats

"Peter, darling, you know you can get him anything and he'll be over the moon, right? He loves you and it'd kill Tony to know this is causing you so much stress. We could always do a joint gift if that helps? After caroling, the night is ours and so is the mall."

God, what did he do to deserve Miss Potts? She has a solution for all the problems in the world, never hesitates to take what she wants and could probably kick his ass twenty different ways without breaking a sweat. Just last night, she'd cocked her head, put on a disappointed face and Peter was done, defeated, tore himself away from Tony's side at the lab to devour some freshly baked pie Rhodey had dropped by. They'd been working for hours, basically a hair's breadth away from a breakthrough, but Miss Potts didn't like her boys tinkering too long without eating.

Now she's holding his hand like it isn't serious, like it doesn't set Peter's heart aflame because this is Pepper Potts, kind and strong and witty and amazing, showing affection in a public place without shame or fear. And yeah, Tony would never be cold to him outside, but the man's a koala when you earn his trust. Peter has to practically pry the billionaire off from Pepper when the CEO has a meeting to conquer (he's dating a CEO, he's dating a billionaire, he's dating a CEO, he's dating a-

"Sweetheart, I see the gears turning in that head of yours, same as Tony. What is it, Peter?" The snow starts to fall a bit harder and they quicken their pace, catch up with Nat, Bucky and Bruce as they line themselves up before the next porch, ready to start caroling their hearts out. Who'd have thought they enjoyed the season this much?

The others didn't come because decorating the tower and baking dessert for 20 plus people took a team effort. Peter had wrapped an arm around Miss Potts' waist and swung them to the car before they were snatched up by Steve to help in the kitchen. They'd been pressed pretty close, Peter not wanting to risk hurting his, what, lover? Girlfriend? His lover's wife? Either way, he had curled around the tall woman, tried to not jostle her too much in case she got sick. It had been nice. Very nice, really.

The whole thing had lasted maybe thirty seconds so yeah. Technically, this is the first time they've had physical contact for a relatively long period of time. He's eighteen now, not supposed to be getting so hyped and nervous over something as simple as holding hands and going caroling along a snow covered neighborhood adorned with a thousand Christmas lights. But, but he's always been a romantic at heart and the neon glow is reflected off of shiny snowflakes that taste like something pure and special, his teammates are joyous, look decades younger, Bucky's cat Alpine has stubbornly decided to crisscross his ankles and Miss Potts ' is just really fucking pretty, ok?

"Peter?" He gets why Tony can submit so easily to the force of nature that is Pepper Potts ; is rather sure it has something to do with honest eyes and a gentle way of loving broken men.

"Um, you're very pretty, Miss Potts," way to go, Peter. It's a wonder he and Tony even got together when they share one brain cell and it's mainly dedicated to superhero work. Or to Miss Potts.

She softens, tugs at him until they wrap around each other and then kisses him. Light, barely there kisses on pale cheeks, his eyelids, the curve of a red nose, under an unhinged jaw. Nat shoves the team forward, says the next house will probably give them candy while winking at Peter, grins when he turns scarlet. Bucky grumbles, "it's not exactly Halloween," but she yanks the supersoldier away from them so there's some semblance of privacy present.

Miss Potts sighs, sets her chin on his head and Peter short circuits right there, is delighted by the fact that she's taller than him, vows to buy her as many heels and high boots as possible because this is extremely nice and being tucked under her is a dream come true.

"You're so nice, Pete. I don't think Tony's gonna last a month before he says he loves you, not with someone so considerate and amazing. Nat bet it'd take me three months, but right now? Tony would take one look at me and say three weeks. We've been outside for a while, how about we head back home? See if our ridiculous baby got away with sneaking to the lab?"

Oh. Oh, is he supposed to speak after that? Function when she just sent his world tumbling down in a second or two? He inhales slowly, presses his frost bitten lips to a long neck and shivers when Miss Potts laughs, sound as pure and lovely as the freshly fallen snow around them.

---:---------:----------:---------:-----------:---------:--------:---------:---

On the way back home (HomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHome), he catches sight of a pretzel stand and nearly slams them into the side of a building. Miss Potts does that thing where she chuckles almost silently and maybe it'll take her three weeks but Peter's ready to declare his love for her right then, absolutely smitten and aware of it. He wonders if this is what Tony felt when he fell for Miss Potts. Wonders if his boyfriend would tell him all about it soon enough.

Miss Potts strokes his cheek, smile this side of sharp and mischievous. "Does my boy want something?" It's a soft question with a soft touch with a not so soft look in eyes that could tear him apart any day of the week. His web snaps and they tumble down to the street, are saved by the fact there's three feet of snow by the building's back entrance and they weren't that high up.

Peter gets a pretzel from Miss Potts.

------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:-------:-

Their lover (loverloverloverlover) is, in fact, hiding in the lab. There's a neon glow here, too, wrapped around Tony as he reassembles holograms, sketches new designs for the spider suit, revises old architecture plans with the gaze of a hawk.

"Anthony Potts, you put down that hologram right now! You were supposed to help out and decorate; not adjust Peter's suit. Again." Tony jolts back, clicks his fingers and everything disappears from the lab table as if Jarvis had never brought several of the genius' secret files to life. He looks like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Peter isn't gonna let him forget this for as long as they live.

There's plenty of space on the table now so he settles there, swings his legs up and down, grins up at a fidgeting Tony. "Anthony Potts is new." A cookie tray is tucked away behind a pile of papers and it's too tempting not to snack on one even if he just inhaled a pretzel.

"I can call you Peter Potts, too, you know. Don't tease him, I know you would've been here helping Tony out if we hadn't gone caroling."

It's Tony's turn to grin and Peter's turn to flush now. Two more cookies are snatched, shoved into his face. "I kind of like that. The Potts thing. It's nice."

Miss Potts crosses over to them, wraps a finger around the one curl he can never tame and pulls on it until he's leaning on her palm with the sudden urge to never leave the lab. "I'm glad you like it, Peter. Anthony here has to go clean the dining table, but we can cuddle on the couch to warm up before seeing what's already cooked. How's that sound?"

"It sounds like your husband is being punished for upgrading your boyfriend's suit and making sure he doesn't die fighting some weird alien dog." Tony huffs, steals Dum-E's Santa hat with a pout before dragging himself up the stairs to the kitchen. "I'm saving everyone's lives, but no. I gotta see Steve butcher a Christmas tradition."

"There's nothing wrong with how Steve cooks the meal."

"Tell that to my grandmother and nanny. Even Jarvis could cook better and he doesn't have any hands." Said A. I hums in a suspiciously noncommittal way as his creator starts yelling about blood being spilled if a single stain is found in his prized kitchen.

The bots all seem to sigh in relief, roll over to bump Peter's knee or shoulder as affectionately as Alpine. He patiently fixes their elf ears and hats, rubs a few bells clean from grease and motor oil because Tony probably hadn't noticed and wouldn't notice until they accidentally stained something. Don't ask him or Miss Potts how, but Tony's children could ruin a fifty thousand dollar couch with purple paint without there necessarily being a can of paint around the lab.

Miss Potts' plan of cuddling on the couch is derailed when they hear screeching and curses pertaining to five different languages coming from above. She sighs, takes Peter's hand and he already knows she'll come up with a solution. She always did.

(Maybe it was time to explain he'd already found their gifts, twin silver rings with all their initials engraved hidden in his coat pocket.)

(And then Tony starts shouting something in Italian, Steve might be reverting to an Irish accent, Alpine hops on the dining table to pounce on the chicken, Miss Potts has to yank her husband away from the oven, Bucky's hair nearly catches on fire and yeah, he'll just show them on New Year's.)

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 17-Let Me Take An Elfie…

Summary: Christmas arrives in the Adler household and its full of laughter, giggles, and one huge gift that money simply can’t buy…

Warnings:  Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  So, like, I’m over 2020 and wish it was Christmas already. This chapter brings Riding On Part 1 to a close and I’ll be likely taking a little break from writing this to concentrate on some stuff I have going on Stark Spangled for the Birthday Party! I hope you enjoy!

This one is dedicated to The Evangers…you know who you are!

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 16 Part 2

 Monday morning rolled round and for the first time in ages Frank woke well rested. After their plan had worked, he and Fliss had played the recording back to Greg who had been torn between calling them a pair of reckless dumbasses, and being elated with what it meant. Whilst he was unsure the court would permit it as evidence, he was going to have “some damned fun filing it anyway” and then set about giving them the final coaching for the Child Welfare Department interviews on Monday.

To Frank and Fliss, this was the final thing they could do. The last chance they had to get their feelings across and make a good impression before it was then over to the courts. And whilst Fliss was still hopeful that Polland would sign the papers as soon as he realised they had him on tape, Frank wasn’t quite as optimistic. So it was for that reason that over breakfast on the Monday he found himself rehearsing his speech to the Social Worker, just had he had done 2 years or so prior.

He needn’t have bothered though because, as Greg had predicted, the Social Workers discussion with him mainly centred on practical things such as Frank’s new job and his role, what Fliss did for a living, their new home and a little bit of digging into her background which was done sensitively and compassionately. It was the same Social Worker from 2 years back, a dark haired lady called Sarah Kellet, which Frnak was glad about, and she’d smiled when she’d run through things, checking all the facts that Greg had provided her before simply stating that was all she needed.

“What, no soul-searching questions?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Not this time.” she smiled “It’s a little different Mr Adler. You already have formal Guardianship over Mary so this isn’t about whether you’re suitable or not. This is really just a fact gathering exercise about whether or not formally providing you with Parental Status would be in her best interests.”

Frank swallowed and Fliss gently tangled her fingers in his as Sarah looked at them and smiled.

“Don’t worry.” She beamed. “When I spoke to Mary before it’s clear she’s exceptionally settled, and she adores her new brother as she refers to him as. You’ve created a very stable and loving environment for her, you’re financially credible, not that that’ the be all and end all, and you have a home, family support…all of this will be evidenced in my report.”

“So, do you make recommendations to the court?” Fliss asked and Sarah shook her head.

“Not as such, I’m merely here to pull together a factual, comprehensive report on how Mary is.” She tapped her pen slightly “And it’s always a little easier in cases like this when the minor has been in the care of the applicant prior to it. But, I will be making it quite clear in my conclusions that from the CWD point of view it would be in Mary’s best interests for the court to allow the adoption to go ahead, regardless of Mary’s father raising his objections. Basically if comes down to it, we’ll be fighting your corner.”

Fliss turned to Frank who let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and she smiled at him.

“So, that’s it.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ll send a copy of everything through to the courts and your attorney Mr Adler. All that’s left is for me to wish you both a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the hearing whenever that is.” They both rose, shaking her hand and then Frank held the door to the room open for Fliss. She stepped out in front of him, and turned to him smiling.

“That’s it.” She shrugged “We did everything we could.” “Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded “I’m just relieved it’s all over. Well, for now anyway.”

“Yup, so let’s get on with enjoying Christmas.” Fliss beamed as they walked down the corridor to the little area at the bottom where Mary was waiting. She was sat, reading a book being supervised by another one of the social workers and looked up, smiling as they entered. The woman who’d be supervising left them alone after bidding them goodbye and the three of them walked out to the truck.

“Think your mom and dad will be ok with Alex for a little longer?” Frank asked as Mary bounced ahead of them slightly.

“Sure, why?”

“I thought we could take her for a pizza and bowling, just the 3 of us before we pick Evelyn up from the airport.” Frank said “Been a while since we went.” “Yeah, sounds good.” Fliss beamed “I’ll call mum and let her know.”

Of course Verity and Bill were only too happy to keep Alex. Sian and the twins had arrived earlier that morning and Verity told Fliss that Sian was enjoying Auntie cuddles whilst batting her eyes at Steve asking him if he fancied another. Steve’s response had been to choke on his coffee. They headed to the bowling alley, where Fliss and Mary found to their delight that the skittles were all painted like elves for the festive period. They had 3 games and as usual they whooped Frank’s ass, leaving him in a fake mood declaring Christmas was cancelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth, Mary had vaulted onto his back causing him to laugh and attempt to pull her off. Eventually he succeeded and dangled her upside down by her ankles, the girl shrieking as he swung her round before setting her down.

“She’s getting a bit big to do that with now!” he looked at Fliss, letting out a huff as Mary righted her sweater and climbed into the truck.

“Well, she is 10 in a couple of months.” Fliss smiled and Frank shook his head.

“Don’t remind me.”

Fliss chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and the 3 of them headed off to the airport to collect Evelyn. They stood in the arrival lounge, Frank’s arm tossed over Fliss’ shoulders and Fliss could tell he was a little apprehensive. This was the first time he’d seen Evelyn since she had admitted outright she’d bribed Polland to give evidence. He’d told Fliss he wasn’t sure how he was going to react, that he didn’t want to be angry, but he couldn’t help it. Fliss had simply told him that they’d deal with whatever happened when it came.

As Evelyn walked through the glass double doors, pulling a huge case behind her, Mary shot forwards to greet her and the woman bent down, giving her a cuddle. Once more it struck Frank just how different it all was to the first meeting they’d had just over 2 years ago and as he watched his mother gently smooth Mary’s hair back any anger he was feeling simply dissipated. He knew only too well after the events of the last few years, he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure history never repeated itself. He watched as Mary and his mother made their way over to him and he took a deep breath as Evelyn glanced up at him, her face wrought with worried anticipation. She opened her mouth to say something, and Frank knew full well it was going to be an apology so he shook his head.

“It’s done.” He said simply “And I don’t wanna waste a single second more thinking about it, ok mom?”

Evelyn nodded, and then in a sudden display of affection she moved to embrace him. It was a little stiff but Frank didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around his mother in a gentle hug before he pulled away and took her bag off her.

When they reached Bill and Verity’s neither Frank nor Fliss was surprised to find that Verity had laid a spread on. She loved entertaining and so had taken it upon herself to pull together a buffet consisting of a selection of cold meats, breads, crudités, dips and savoury snacks along with a huge plate of her infamous brownies. No sooner had Frank walked into the kitchen he had a beer thrust into his hand by Steve who winked at him and he turned to Fliss a little sheepishly with a shrug.

“I’ll drive home.” She rolled her eyes playfully as she gently turned Alex so that he was against her chest, head raised slightly as he looked around.

“Oh fuck that.” Evelyn said, taking the red wine that Bill handed her as Frank gave a snort at his mother’s language, not that it surprised him, she’d always been quite colourful that way despite her proper appearance and professional demeanour “We’ll get a cab. It’s Christmas.” “See, she gets it!” Steve nodded to Evelyn who simply shrugged and took a sip of her wine before she set it down on the kitchen counter.

“May I?” she asked Fliss, gesturing to Alex and Fliss smiled.

“Of course, here…” she passed him over and Evelyn looked at the baby who broke into a gummy smile.

“He gets more like you ever time I see him.” Evelyn whispered, looking at Frank who smiled.

“Yeah, so I’m told” he shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance but as Fliss looked at him smirking he knew he had failed. He fucking loved the fact his boy looked like him, it massaged his ego and he didn’t care one iota about how smug it made him appear.

After Mary, Charlie and Joel had eaten, the three of them headed upstairs to the movie room, arms laden with snacks as Bill put The Santa Clause on the large screen and the adults all settled in the living room. Evelyn asked if she could feed Alex and Frank obliged, handing her the baby and the bottle. There was a little more chat before Verity cleared her throat and addressed the huge elephant in the room.

“So, how did it go with the social worker kids?”

Fliss and Frank exchanged a glance before Frank smiled “Good, really good. In fact, she said in her conclusion they’ll recommend the adoption is processed regardless of any objections but, we’ll see. For now we’ve done everything we can so it’s down to the court in the New Year.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s great, that’s really….great.” Bill said, nodding as his eyes misted over and Verity stood up, moving to give Fliss a cuddle as her eyes had filled at the sight of her father’s emotions. Frank could feel the tears stabbing at his eyes too so, under the guise of nipping to the bathroom he took a moment and headed through the kitchen and out of the bi-folding doors, stepping onto the veranda which overlooked the landscaped garden and pool area.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t been out there that long when he heard someone behind him. A tumbler of scotch was pushed into his hand and he looked up as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Thought you might need that.” He said, as he set the bottle and his own glass down on the table, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he sparked it up he took a drag, blowing it out to the side taking care to remain hidden.

“Fucking 38 and still hiding the fact I smoke from my mum.” Steve snorted and Frank shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you Steeb but she knows.” He chuckled at the look on Steve’s face “She was complaining to Fliss about it the other day.” “No shit.” Steve muttered, “Oh, well, fuck it…”

Frank laughed again and took a sip of his drink before he asked Steve about the house he was purchasing just out east of Tampa. Steve explained the sale was going through now and they should be ready to move in towards the middle of January.

“Good.” Frank nodded “If you need a hand, moving and stuff, just holler. Lord knows you did enough for us, I’d be glad to help.” “Don’t worry you will be.” Steve smirked and Frank snorted.

“How’s Sian taking to the move? Fliss said she was a little apprehensive.” “Yeah, she was.” Steve shrugged “But she’s also excited. I mean of course she’s nervous to leave her family behind but she knows it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on, and it won’t be forever. Probably about 5 years or so and we’ll head back home.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Frank said, knocking back his scotch.

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, his voice coming out as a slight mumble as he held his cigarette between his lips so he could top Frank’s glass up again.

“Well-cheers-“ Frank nodded, taking the tumbler off him “-it’s like Fliss said, once this place gets it’s claws into you, you kinda grow to love it.”

Steve chuckled and dropped his now done dab end onto the floor under his foot before he bent down and retrieved it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later.

“So, Fliss told you that we got family coming out this New Year?” Steve asked.

“She mentioned one of her cousins…” Frank paused “Tabs was it?”

“Babs.” Steve corrected “We got 4, there’s Eva who’s married to a Police Officer called Ari, Jen who’s married to a lawyer called Andy and Amber who is married to Curtis…” “He the train mechanic?” Frank racked his memory and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, they all still live in Liverpool but Babs, the one that’s coming…she’s something else.” Steve snorted. “She lives in Australia with a photographer called Hugh. Well, I say photographer, he’s kind of a trust fund rich boy that plays at it, you know? Nice enough guy though, always happy to shout you on a night out.”

“So they making a special trip over or…” “They’re taking some kind of sabbatical, if you can take a sabbatical from doing fuck all.” Steve shrugged “6 month tour of the US starting here. She’s fucking great fun though. Her and Fliss are the same age and were thick as thieves growing up, used to get into all sorts of mischief.” He shook his head. “They once set fire to a bin on a park. By accident mind. They were pretending to smoke these hollow twig things stuffed with dried grass and when one set on fire Babs panicked and tossed it into the bin.” Frank snorted as Steve continued.

“The whole thing went up.” Steve chuckled “So they legged it and got followed home by an off duty copper. Dad and Uncle Ted went ballistic…

“Wait…your dad’s brother is called Ted?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, Bill and Ted.” Steve grinned. Frank looked at him, before the pair of them burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It wasn’t that funny, it really wasn’t, but the more Steve laughed, the more Frank did, and the more Frank laughed, the more Steve died. By the time Frank managed to control himself he had tears of pure mirth in his eyes and he wiped them as his laughter subsided and he managed to take a breath, clutching at his side.

“What you two laughing at?” Fliss asked, stepping outside.

“Your face.” Steve shot back.

“Twat.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him and she turned to Frank who was still chuckling “And I don’t know what you find so funny…”

“Nothing at all baby.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head, “Nothing at all.” ******

There were sore heads in the Adler household the next day. They’d stayed at Bill and Verity’s till well past midnight, and had left Mary there as she’d passed out asleep with the twins in the movie room. After they’d managed to herd all the kids to bed, the adults had continued drinking and eventually called it a night when Bill had fallen asleep in his arm chair, dropping his glass of brandy all over the floor.

Fliss had stable duties that morning, and took off early even though she felt she was still half drunk and when she returned a few hours later Frank and Evelyn were sat at the breakfast bar, each nursing cups of coffee and looking half dead. Eventually they all managed to muster enough about themselves to shower, dress and head over to pick Mary up. Frank was low-key pleased to see Steve looked worse than he felt and after a quick coffee they set off into the little town to have a walk round the Christmas Stalls that had been set up before they grabbed a bite to eat and Evelyn started telling Fliss a few stories about Frank and Diane when they had been children at Christmas.

“I think my personal favourite will be the carol service when you were 6.” Evelyn looked at Frank and he groaned taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his chair “He has a lovely voice you know and that year he was selected to do a solo.” “We don’t need to hear this…” Frank started to protest but Fliss cut him off.

“Yes we do, go on Evelyn.”

“So his particular hymn was Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. And the line ‘God and sinners reconciled’ was proving a little tricky for him as he rehearsed.”

“I was 6.” Frank deadpanned.

“I’m well aware, it still doesn’t stop it being funny.” Evelyn grinned “So up he gets, sings out the song note and word perfect until he gets to this line and belts out ‘God and sinners dressed in style’”

Fliss snorted and Mary let out a howl of laughter.

“You’re such a loser” she looked at him

“Quit it or you’ll be getting no presents tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever”

“Hey, do you remember that year grandpa sent us nothing?” Frank suddenly had a recollection and he looked at Evelyn who let out a loud laugh.

“God yes, you and Diane were disgusted!”

“Oh, the last year before he died-“ Frank started to explain as Fliss looked at him blankly “-well, he was clearly feeling his age and found that shopping for Christmas gifts had become too difficult. So he decided to send checks to everyone instead. In each card he wrote, ‘Buy your own present!’ and mailed them early. Only when we opened them, there was no check…he’d forgotten to enclose them with the cards.”

“So you all literally got a card with ‘buy your own present’ written inside?” Fliss laughed and Frank chuckled

“Yeah, which to be fair dad thought was hilarious but…poor Grandpa was devastated. He tried to blame Santa, of course, but it didn’t wash.”

“That’s because Santa isn’t real.” Mary looked at him.

“Yes he is.” Fliss sighed “I’m not having this debate with you again.”

“You said yourself the other day that Frank was incapable of organising anything because he was a man so how could one dude organise gifts for the entire world?” Mary looked at her and Frank turned his head slowly to Fliss.

“Oh, you did, did you?”

Fliss hesitated, before she sighed “Come on, your organisational skills at home are ridiculous.”

“Do our bills get paid on time?”

“Yes, but-“

“Has Alex died yet?”

“No…” Fliss laughed.

“Then we’re good!” Frank shrugged, his hand gently dropping to his son’s tummy as he lay asleep in the stroller parked next to him “I find your lack of faith disturbing. And if we’re being sexist, I know Santa is a man as a woman wouldn’t be able to hack driving a sleigh around for a night, not to mention the complete mess she’d make trying to park it…”

“Wow!” Fliss looked at him as he laughed, “Ok, buddy, I bed I can think of 5 reasons why I would jump at the chance to be Santa.”

“Go on.” He teased and Fliss held up her hand, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

“One, I could grow to the size of Hawaii knowing it’s simply all part of the job. Two, I’d simply be able to buy one big, black belt, and brass buckle, and be accessorized for life. Three there would be no reason to have my hair colour done. Four, everyone would be extremely nice to me, regardless of my behaviour and five, if people commented that my belly jiggled when I laughed I could hit them with my purse.”

“Six…” Evelyn picked up as Frank laughed “You would always work in sensible footwear”

Frank shook his head “She always is anyway, not like you wear high heels to ride horses in and muck out stalls…”

“Those boots hurt when they’re not worn in.” Mary jabbed back “I know.”

With a snort Frank leaned back and looked down at Alex “Buddy, you better hurry up and start talking, I need someone here to even out the numbers.”

After another hour or so, when it was dark, they headed home and Evelyn bid them all a good night, heading to her guest suite above the garage to read and relax, declining their offer to join them for a drink stating she’d had quite enough the night before.

Mary wasn’t far behind, the excitement of the last few days having wiped her out, plus as she reminded Frank and Fliss, the sooner she went to bed the sooner it would be present time. She headed off for a bath before she settled down with her book upstairs and an hour or so later Frank went up to took her in, finding her fast asleep with Fred curled around her head.

It wasn’t even 8:30 pm and Fliss and Frank were all set for the evening. Presents wrapped, kids settled, and Frank had just moved to grab them a beer each when his phone sounded in his pocket.  He glanced at the shitty Nokia he was being forced to use after smashing his Samsung against the wall and frowned.

“It’s Greg.” He said before he answered. “Hey man.”

“S’up, listen, you guys free if I pop in for 5? I got a Christmas card for you and I forgot to drop it off earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank chuckled. “Just come on round the back, gate and the door are open.”

“No worries pal, see you in 15.”

“He coming over?” Fliss asked as Frank tossed the phone down on the side.

“Yeah, just for 5 minutes. Says he has a card for us.” “A card?”

“Yeah, you know what Zara’s like. He’s probably had it for weeks and forgotten about it.” Franks shrugged, passing Fliss an open beer as they both crossed to the sofa. They settled down to watch the Christmas special of Brooklyn 99 and true to his word, Greg walked in 15 minutes or so later.

“Hey Greg, you want a beer?” Frank stood up, gesturing to the kitchen area.

“No I can’t stay, I just wanted to give you this before tomorrow.”

Frank paused and took the envelope off him. “This isn’t a card?” he frowned.

“No, it’s a little better than that.” Greg beamed as Fliss rose to her feet, crossing to where Frank was stood. With a frown, Frank turned the envelope over, opened it and as his eyes scanned the piece of paper he felt his mouth grow dry and his heart suddenly pounded so hard he felt it was going to thump right out of his chest.

“He signed the papers…” Frank whispered, swallowing as he looked at the document in his hands. “Lissy, Polland…he signed the adoption papers.”

“What?” Fliss breathed out as she took it from him, her eyes roving the wording before she looked at Frank, then Greg. “I- when?”

“I had a call earlier this afternoon saying they were dropping the objection.” Greg smiled. “Seems he suddenly had a change of heart when his Attorney told him he was on tape confessing to taking a bung and attempting to blackmail Fliss. I won’t tell you what he called him, it was a 4 letter word and ended in t…pretty sure you can fill in the gaps.” He nodded to the paper in Fliss hand “I asked him to hurry that through and it arrived about half an hour before I called. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“So…we don’t need to go to court?” Frank breathed out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Greg shook his head “There’ll be a finalisation hearing in January but coupled with that and the CWD report it’s gonna simply be a formality. It’s as good as done.” “So, we’re…” Fliss took a deep breath “We’re gonna be her parents?”

Greg nodded. “Yup.”

Frank was struggling for words as he looked at his best friend before he pulled him into a huge bro hug. He stepped back, wiping his eyes as Fliss moved forward to hug Greg too, before they both walked him to his car.

“I owe you, big time.” Frank croaked and Greg waved him away as he opened the door to his Merc.

“I told you it would work out.” He shrugged, smiling broadly. “Merry Christmas guys.”

The two of them waved him off before Fliss turned to Frank, her tears falling down her cheeks “I can’t believe it…” “Me neither.” Frank spluttered and Fliss leaped into his arms, the pair of them laughing in sheer joy. Even thought they’d thrown themselves into the holiday spirit, neither of them had been able to shake that little feeling that a small, dark cloud was still following them. And now that was gone.

It was over. All over. And they’d won.

They headed back inside, both resisting the urge to wake Mary to tell her, deciding they’d leave it for the morning, but they absolutely did decide to crack a bottle of champagne open.

And then Frank had an even better idea, one that came to him on a whim as they walked back through their garden. Silently he disappeared into the little laundry room at the side of the kitchen and when he emerged, Fliss had her back to him so she didn’t see him deposit the 2 pool towels on the breakfast bar. He moved to where she reaching for two champagne flutes, and as she stood on her tiptoes, he wrapped his arms around her from behind causing her to jump a little.

“I can’t believe it.” Fliss whispered “I mean I hoped he’d back down but…”

“I know” Frank kissed her neck tenderly “Another huge Christmas Eve huh? Second one in a row?”

Yeah.” She sighed happily, her hands falling on top of his arms, rubbing gently. “You know last year I was so nervous when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So was I, and that was before you told me that bit of news.” He smiled, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’d been trying to propose for ages. I was shitting my pants it was gonna go wrong or you’d turn me down.”

“Not a chance Sailor.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re stuck with me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and the pair of them stood in silence in their kitchen, lost in their own thoughts, simply looking out of the window over their garden which was illuminated softly by the lighting round the pool area. Eventually Frank remembered his original plan and he smiled to himself.

“So all the presents are wrapped, everyone’s in bed waiting for the big guy with the sack to arrive…” Frank muttered, his lips grazing her neck “The pool heaters have been on all day…what about a Christmas Eve dip?”

Fliss turned in his arms, arching an eyebrow “Would you merely be trying to get me naked Francis?”

“Yes.” He nodded and she giggled.

“Skinny dipping? On Christmas Eve?”

“You lost your sense of adventure Cowgirl?” he teased.

Fliss peered round him to where Alex was sleeping in the basinet and with a grin pulled back and whipped off her T-shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

Frank laughed and caught the top as she threw it at him, tossing it to the side as he grabbed the towels. By the time he caught up with her outside Fliss was on the edge of the pool in nothing but her baby-blue cotton panties and his eyes scanned up her legs and the rest of her body until they locked onto hers. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her underwear and Frank felt his cock twitch as she turned and coyly shot him a look over her shoulder before she descended down the mosaic tiled steps at the shallow end of the pool.  

Not wanting to waste a second more he threw the towels down on one of the sun loungers and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of his grey t-shirt. He pulled it off before be quickly undid his belt and in one swoop yanked down his loose jeans and boxers.

Fliss dropped off the bottom step, her shoulders dipping under the warm water as she turned to watch Frank following her in, her eyes trailing up from his knees over his thighs, semi-erect cock which stood beneath that happy trail that led down his slim, flat yet ever so slightly soft stomach and up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Her eyes moved to his handsome face, the stubble on his jaw line always gave him a more rugged look and his short hair was spiked up messily as it usually was at the end of the day.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

And not just on the outside. Even before the events of the last few weeks Fliss knew her man was the most caring, wonderful and doting father and lover on the planet but since the issue with Polland had raised its head she'd seen a side to him that she had only ever caught glimpses of before. A softer, vulnerable side and it filled her heart with even more love for him for reasons she couldn't explain other than it just did. He wasn't afraid to show weakness to her, he wasn't ashamed to tell her his fears. Because they were a true partnership. And as she watched him crouch down so his body was submerged in the water, his eyes sparkling in the lights, she felt an unnerving spike of desire that was so strong it surged right from her toes up her body, leaving her slightly fuzzy headed, like she was drunk on love. 

Frank cocked his head playfully to the side as Fliss gracefully pushed off the ball of her foot and swam towards him before she twisted in the water slightly and brought her legs out in front of her. She wrapped them round his waist, settling herself on his lap as his large hands gently splayed on her back. Fliss nuzzled her nose against his chin, nudging his head back so she could chain soft kisses across his jaw line, her lips skating the bristles on his face as she gently nipped at his skin. Frank let out a soft sigh, his hands pulling her closer as she moved her affections down his neck, over his Adam’s apple before she gently sucked at the junction of his shoulder and neck, grinding down on him, her bare core slicking over his cock.

"Fuck, Liss..." he stuttered, pulling back to look at her, the water sloshing around them "What's got into you, huh?"

"Nothing yet." She purred back.

Frank looked at her, but before he could make a smart reply she’d dropped her hand from his shoulder into the pool and wrapped her palm around him making him choke on his words slightly as she stroked him with a few quick flicks of her wrist.

“Jesus, baby…” he managed to croak as her eyes locked onto his and a smirk curled on her lips. She leaned forwards, her teeth nipping at his ear and he gave a soft groan, his head falling back slightly as she continued to work him, her hand pumping up and down his now rock hard dick. And then she stopped, and he felt her mouth curve open and her breath was hot on his skin as she whispered 3 words that sent red hot fire coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck me, Sailor.”

He didn’t need asking twice. 

Fliss moved herself, guiding him to where she wanted and she sank down onto his length, his hands grabbing her hips as she took him in completely, a low, drawn out gasp escaping her lips as Frank hissed slightly as her walls clamped around him. He gave himself a moment, enjoying the feel of her before he thrust upwards, his fingers curling around her soft flesh as he drew back slowly, before pushing back into her deeply, rotating his hips. Fliss’ hands curled around his shoulders, her head tipping back, eyes closed in pleasure, the action causing her breasts to rise out of the water. Keeping his rhythm slow and deep he dipped his head, his tongue tracing a stripe down her cleavage, the salty tang of the pool water hitting his taste buds as he directed his attention to her nipple, flicking and sucking softly, all the time listening and feeling her reactions as she pushed down further against him, desperate for more. For whatever reason, Fliss was in a downright filthy mood and Frank had a feeling that slow and steady wasn’t going to be enough. He moved his mouth, nipping up her neck before his lips pressed onto hers, the kiss filthy as his tongue fucked her mouth and he pulled back as he began to back himself up to the side of the pool.

With a quick movement he turned so Fliss’s back was against the tiled edge, and he looked at her as she stared at him, her deep brown eyes wide with lust as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

“Turn around.” He instructed, his voice low and Fliss complied, moving off him and spinning in the water. One large hand slid up her spine to her neck and his fingers gently curled around her nape as he pushed her forwards slightly, before he slid both his hands up her arms and directed her hands to grip at the lip of the pool.

Fliss’ body was tingling with anticipation. Her palms gripped round the rough surface of the pool edge as she surrendered to Frank’s control, his chest pressing against her back, lips sucking at her neck.

“If this is too much, tell me…” he whispered against her skin. Fliss tilted her face round to look at him, seeing those ocean blues she loved shining with love and what looked like a slight glimmer of concern. And she knew why. Whilst their sex was hot, passionate, loving, it was very rarely rough because he didn’t want to push her too far knowing her past. But she wanted this, she needed it. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“I trust you.” She promised him gently and Frank kissed her again before he pulled away. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up so her feet planted on the floor of the pool as he rose to his, the water lapping around his thighs as he buried himself into her with one swift movement. He pulled out slowly before he thrust back, bottoming out as she gasped, her head tilting backwards as he continued rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his movements gathering pace until he built up into a fast, relentless rhythm, every drive into her jolting her forwards slightly as she braced herself against the edge with her arms, elbows locked to absorb the shock. Pants, whimpers, soft cries and the debauched sound of sloshing and skin slapping skin filled the otherwise silent night air of the garden and Frank dropped his eyes to the point where he was pounding in and out of his girl, the sight of where they were joined was hot as fuck and he let out a groan as he watched for a second, before his eyes flicked back up to Fliss. Her head was dropped between her arms, slightly twisted to the right and he could see her eyes were closed, jaw slack, full lips open in a silent cry.

As he continued his powerful, fast thrusts, his cock brushed occasionally against that spot inside and Fliss felt the coil in her belly beginning to tighten slowly, each time he hit it. Frank adjusted his stance and bent over, his right hand falling over hers as he too braced himself against the edge of the pool, giving a dirty grind and Fliss cried out loudly at the sensation.

“Fuck, right there…” she encouraged and Frank repeated the movement again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he was fighting the urge he was feeling to cum.

“Liss, shit...” He gasped, his left hand dropping between her legs, coaxing her clit and after a few strong strokes Fliss arched her back, her head following as she let out a cry of his name as the world tilted on its axis, her orgasm rocking her to her very core. The feeling was too much for Frank and with a loud moan that rumbled from his chest he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pumped through his own release before he stilled, his head bowing as he waited for the surge of ecstasy to dissipate.

Eventually the fog lifted enough so that he was able to bend his knees slightly, and with the arm that was curled around Fliss’ waist he turned them in the water. Fliss was near dead weight and went with him obligingly, his cock still buried in her as he pivoted and dropped down so that his back was against the wall of the pool and she sat on his lap, the water gently splashing around their shoulders.

Frank cradled her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave a low hum of satisfaction, her head falling back against his shoulder, a smile flickering across her lips.

“You know…” Frank mumbled after a little moment of silence “Cowgirls will always be my favourite, even in reverse.”

Fliss gave a soft chuckle as she opened her eyes and titled her head to look at him. “I prefer sailors…” she smirked and he laughed, pressing his lips to hers.

“You ok?” he asked, as her hands fell over his arms, fingers softly skating up his wet skin and she gave a nod.

“Never better.” She affirmed.

“Good.” He kissed her temple. “You wanna get out or…”

“No, I’m good here for a while.” She purred and he smiled, his mouth dropping to her shoulder where he pressed another kiss to her skin.

Eventually Fliss reluctantly conceded that they probably should get out as Alex would want feeding again any time soon. But, not wanting the moment to end, Frank suggested that whilst she showered he could do the feed and light the fire-pit. Fliss agreed and after wrapping herself in a towel she kissed him again and headed upstairs. Frank dried himself off, located his T-shirt and shrugged it on, leaving the towel round his waist as he warmed a bottle for his now grumbling son. By the time Fliss came back down stairs in her plaid sleep pants and tank, Alex was just finishing up. Frank passed him over, and they both headed back outside. Once the fire was lit Frank scooted off for a quick shower and returned 10 minutes later to find Alex settled once more in the basinet, tucked snuggly under his Christmas blanket that was decorated with little Santa’s and trees, his eyes roaming the starry sky.  Fliss sat with her legs under a tartan fleece on the outside sofa, the bottle of champagne stood in the middle of the table in an ice bucket and either side of it rested two full flutes. With a satisfied sigh Frank sat next to her, reaching for his drink and resting his feet on the table as Fliss snuggled under his arm. The pair of them clinked their glasses together, shared another soft kiss and settled into a soft chatter.

It was cosy, domestic, loving, and everything Fliss had ever dreamed of having, but never in a million years thinking she’d experience, and as they sat talking and laughing, speculating about Mary’s reaction to the news of her adoption being tomorrow, she felt herself suddenly choked with emotion and she sat up, looking at her man.

“I think she’s gonna...” Frank trailed off, frowning at the look on Fliss’ face “Hey, honey what’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She muttered, clambering onto his lap so she was straddling him, jolting the glass he was holding a little and sending some of the Moet spilling onto the patio.

“You sure?” he titled his head to look at her and she nodded, sniffing back her tears as she kissed him, her hands running through his messy hair.

“I’m just so happy Frank, I can’t stop thinking about how much I lucked out.” She whispered as she pulled away and Frank smiled against her mouth.

“I think I’m the one that lucked out.” He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to smooth her hair back slightly.

“Maybe we can agree we’re both lucky bastards” she grinned and he chuckled, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I can live with that.” He agreed.

******

For the second day in a row Frank and Fliss woke with hangovers, as post the champagne they hit the bourbon and didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Now it was half 6 and Frank wasn’t impressed that he was going to have to deal with a hyper 9 year old who was currently bouncing on his bed, a 16 week old and his mother with a headache and only 4 and a half hours sleep.

After they sat and opened the gifts in their stocking, Frank telling Fliss to leave the thin, flat box until she was alone, they headed downstairs. Frank grinned at Fliss as Mary bust into the family room and glanced at the presents which were arranged in a pile by the sofa. The three of them exchanged their gifts, Fliss being especially delighted with her Spa Day voucher from Mary and Alex, which Frank informed her Simon had also gotten one for Bonnie so they could go together. Frank had also bought her a few new pairs of riding breeches, signed her up for a year’s subscription to Kindle Unlimited, a few more items of clothing, a 3 Pandora charms in the shape of the letters, F, M and A meaning she had one for them all and a stunning silver and diamond necklace and earring set from Tiffany’s which Fliss gasped at when she opened. In contrast Fliss had bought Frank a new phone from Alex and Mary to replace the one he’d smashed against the wall, a few T-shirts and then cryptically told him the biggest gift from her was yet to come.

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” he leaned over and asked her semi-seriously.

“Fuck, no!” she spluttered and he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s just a little big…you’ll see.”

Before he could press her any further, Mary gave a loud shriek as she unwrapped the hooded top that was decorated the same as her Gillet and grinned, jamming it on over her pyjama top. Frank laughed as she did a parade in front of them before she paused, looking at the door to the little room off the kitchen. Frank had covered over the door frame in wrapping paper as it held her big present and Mary looked at it, before she turned to Frank and Fliss, frowning.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Frank teased “Why don’t you go through and see?”

Mary looked at the pair of them again before she ran over, her reindeer slippers padding over the floor and she tore through the paper, pushing the door open.

Frank curled his arm round Fliss, kissed the side of her head as they followed her into the room where Mary was stood, gaping around.

As a surprise they’d turned it into a little sitting room of sorts for her. Over the last 4 weeks they had meticulously emptied it of the crap that had been in there since they’d moved in and they’d completely re-decorated it. Frank had painted a pale yellow on 3 of the walls, the 4th at the back was papered with a huge picture of Monty in the pasture. Her show rosettes were hung on a trellis which Frank had screwed to the wall with plenty of space for more and on the shelving unit which housed a large, flat screen Tv, Blu-ray player and Android box were positioned a few photos of various family shots. To finish the room off, 2 huge bean bags were placed in the middle of the room which were big enough for Fliss and Frank to lie in (they'd had a lot of fun trying them out) and there was a small desk in the corner along with an office chair. But it was the electronic keyboard nestled in the corner of the wall that held the TV that caught Mary’s eye.

As Fred sauntered in and hopped up on a bean bag as if he owned the place, Mary walked over to the keyboard running her hands along it before she turned to look at the two adults, her mouth hanging open.

“We thought you might like a place to hang out or chillax or whatever it is you kids do now...” Frank smiled “You know, instead of always needing to go to your room when Rosie or whoever comes over. You can study in here too as well.”

“And trust me you'll want your own space once this monster starts crawling.” Fliss smiled, readjusting Alex in her arms slightly.

“I love it…” Mary gasped, looking around her eyes brimming “My own special living room…and a sort of piano.”

“Well, you keep up your lessons with Nanny V and we might, and I mean might, get you a real one” Frank smiled and Mary beamed at him before she shot over to the pair of them. Frank picked her up with a groan and kissed her cheek.

“Rosie is gonna be well jel.” She giggled and Frank laughed as Mary leaned over to kiss Fliss’ cheek.

“There’s something in the desk for you too.” Frank took a deep breath, setting Mary down on the floor. As she walked over the room, Frank moved, his arm hooking round Fliss’ waist as they watched her open the lid of the desk and take out the envelope. With a frown she pulled it open and her eyes widened as she looked at the detail.

“Is this…” she started breathing deeply, her gaze shooting up to Frank’s, her eyes filling with tears “He…”

Frank nodded, his own eyes pricking with tears “Yeah, he signed the papers Stack.”

“So, I’m…I’m adopted?” she stuttered.

“Not quite but…” Frank sniffed, “It’s about as good as done, yeah. Greg got those yesterday.”

As Mary looked back down at the paper in her hand, Frank spotted a tear fall from her face and then he frowned as he saw her legs starting to shake. In a flash he was by her side, catching her as she dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the paper scrunching slightly in her hand as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and began to cry.

Frank pressed his face into her hair, trying desperately to keep his own tears from falling but failing miserably. Fliss was already gone, and she moved to walk towards them, dropping gently to her knees, Alex held safely in her arms.

“We’re gonna be a proper family.” Mary sobbed and Frank stuttered a laugh as he pulled back to look down at her.

“Mary, sweetheart, we already were.” His voice cracked and she nodded against his neck, before she started to cry again. At that point Thor walked into the room and pushed his nose straight in between Mary and Frank, licking her face and letting out soft little whines.

Mary giggled and grabbed his fur gently “Thor, get off you doofus…”

“Is everything ok?” a voice made all of them look up to see Evelyn in the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown and slippers. Frank, who had momentarily forgotten he’d text her to come join them, looked up through his tears and nodded. Fliss took the paper out of Mary’s hand and held it out to Evelyn. She gently gripped it, her eyebrows raised slightly, and then her hand flew to her mouth when she read the writing.

“Oh, that’s….that’s fantastic!” she sniffed, “Really…”

Mary, whose sobs had now subsided suddenly pulled back from Frank and looked at Fliss, “We need to give Frank his present!”

“Yup, we do!”

“Yeah, what…” Frank frowned “I’m kinda scared about this you know.” “Oh trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!” Mary grinned, before she stood up straight.

“Why don’t you let me watch Alex whilst you head out?” Evelyn smiled and Fliss handed him over to his grandmother before the three of them headed to the hallway. Fliss fished the garage keys off the hooks by the door and tossed them to Frank who caught them in his right hand.

“You’re gonna need those” she smiled. Frank arched an eyebrow as he shoved on his sneakers but didn’t say anything as they headed out into the December sun, making their way over the drive.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” he paused, the keys in the door.

“No.” Mary grinned. With one final, suspicious look at them he flung the up-and-over door open and stopped dead as he looked into the now full space of the double garage, his mouth hanging open.

In front of him was a fairly large boat. It had a covered lower deck area which housed the main engine and cockpit and a large, open flat stern area with benches. It was old, and in need of a fuck tonne of work but Frank was absolutely over the moon.

“Holy…you…you bought me a boat?” he turned to Fliss who grinned and nodded.

“I suppose technically I bought us a boat, but…” she shrugged as Frank moved over to examine it. He ran his hands over the hull, which was sound enough considering the state the rest of it was in and he turned to Fliss, his handsome face splitting into a huge smile.  

“It’s a wreck, I love it!” he beamed and Fliss grinned as he took her face in both hands and kissed her “Thank you baby.” “Well I thought about getting a newer one but I know you’ve always wanted to do your own up” she smiled as he pulled away “Plus, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you full of grease again.”

He grinned and arched an eyebrow before he kissed her again and Mary made a gagging noise. He turned to her, playfully swatting at her head and the 3 of them made their way back to the house, Frank casting a loving glance at his newest prized possession before he pulled the door down and locked it.

They exchanged gifts with Evelyn over breakfast, both Mary and Alex’s piles in the living room were significantly larger when they finished opening the bags full each and then following a breakfast of pancakes and bacon which was made whilst dancing around the kitchen to various Christmas songs, Fliss and Mary headed over to the yard to see to the horses and sneak a quick ride in before they needed to head over to Bill and Verity’s.

Fliss opted to shower first so she could get Alex ready and once she was alone she took her time to open the present Frank had told her to leave until later. As she pulled off the wrapping paper she smiled to herself as she saw the Victoria Secrets box and lifted the lid off, gently pulling back the pink tissue wrapping. Biting her lip she pulled out the sheer gold negligee, which was beautiful and rather classy as well, before she placed it back in the box and headed into the bathroom.

Just as she’d finished dressing Frank walked into their room, Alex in his arms and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

“I opened it…” Fliss smiled against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm” she affirmed “I happen to think I suit gold.”

Frank smiled “I’m sure you do.”

She grinned and took Alex off him before she headed out of the room, Frank watching her go before he stripped off his clothing and headed into the bathroom.

20 minutes or so later, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red and blue flannel button down, Frank wandered into the family room and stopped dead as he caught sight of Alex’s outfit.

“Lissy, what the fuck is my boy wearing?” Frank stared at the baby who was sat on Mary’s knee on the sofa, dressed in a green elf onesie. It had a black strip round the middle with a little yellow belt buckle detail, and the collar was red and ruffled. The legs were red and white hooped, just like tights, and on his head sat a red and green hat. As Frank stared at him in disbelief, Alex gazed up at his dad and let out a loud excited noise and waved his hands and legs.

“He looks cute, Frank.” Mary grinned, herself dressed in a white little blouse detailed with christmas patterns. Fliss walked over from the kitchen where she had been boxing up the sugar cookies she had made and grinned as Frank glared at her, pointing to Alex.

“He’s a fucking elf.” He deadpanned. “In tights.”

“Language.” Fliss slapped his arm lightly before she shrugged and gestured to her own Christmas sweater which depicted Santa stuck upside down in a chimney “It’s Christmas.” Frank shook his head. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Don’t be a scrooge.” Mary grinned and Frank shot her a glare, before he glanced at his son again, shaking his head. Alex seemed absolutely nonplussed at the fact his Mother had dressed him in the utterly stupid get up and Frank turned, shaking his head as Fliss smirked at him.

“Everyone is gonna laugh at him.” He pouted and Fliss snorted

“No they’re not!”

Frank knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, Fliss was as big a child as anyone when it came to Christmas, but he was damned if he was going to let his boy be the subject of ridicule without a fight. But whatever protest he had left died in his throat as at that point Evelyn walked back into the room, a few more gift bags in her hands for Fliss’ family and Roberta and let out a little chuckle.

“Oh my God, doesn’t he look adorable.” She clapped her hands and walked towards her grandson.

Fliss bit her lip, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the utter indignation on Frank’s face as he rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated growl as she slid her arms up round his neck. 

“Fine, just…whatever.” He sighed as she pulled his head down to hers, catching his lips in a soft peck. “Poor kid’s gonna grow up with a complex” he mumbled against her mouth “First the dinosaur outfit at Halloween, now this…”

“Well, so he doesn’t feel too bad, I got you a matching jumper.”

“Yeah Frank, you can put it on and then we can all take an elfie with your new phone, geddit?” Mary grinned and Fliss snorted. Frank pulled back and glared at Mary “Over my dead body.” “Can be arranged.” She retorted, and at that Fliss and Evelyn burst into laughter.

“Well that’s just mean.” Frank pouted and Fliss grinned, standing on her tiptoes.

“I’ll make it up to you later Sailor.” She whispered, her lips brushing his ear “I’ll let you decide if gold really is my colour for yourself…”

“Yeah?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hands dropping to her hips.

“If you wear the sweater…” “That’s…that’s blackmail.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I know.” She pulled back, turning to Mary and Evelyn. “Ok, shall we load the cars up? Mary you wanna ride with me or Frank?”

“Who’s goin’ to get Roberta?”

“Frank.” Fliss said “I’m taking Alex and Thor…and Fred.” She added as an after-thought. “Then I’ll go with him.” She nodded “That ok?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, her hand dropping to Mary’s head.

There was a sudden, excited bustle around the room as everyone moved to get their things together…and Frank went upstairs to change into his new elf sweater.

***** Chapter 18

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess

Miss Lake has been spotted on her way to New York, and by the time she gets there, Peggy thinks she has figured out why.

-

Peggy found it very difficult to sleep properly the next few nights.  She would toss and turn, with the bedclothes coming free of the mattress and her curlers coming loose in her hair, as she puzzled over the situation and tried to figure out what it all meant.

Based on Lake’s techniques it seemed clear enough that she had come from the same place as Dottie – a facility that trained women from childhood to be perfect, undetectable spies.  Evidently, it worked, since Peggy had now fallen for it twice. That being the case, it seemed clear enough that Lake’s mission was to locate Dottie and… and do what?  The Soviet government had already denied all knowledge of her and made it clear that they didn’t want her back.  Dottie didn’t seem to want to go back, most likely because she knew she’d be executed at once and nobody would shed a tear for her.

Either way, Dottie would be no longer be the SSR’s problem. That might be a good thing, except for the part where Soviet agents were operating on US soil apparently at will.  People like Masters, and now Governor Strieber in Nevada with the mob breathing down his neck, already thought the SSR was unnecessary in peacetime, or even actively doing more harm than good.  Capturing Dottie would be a way to demonstrate that they weren’t useless and could correct their mistakes.  But to capture Dottie they might first have to capture Lake.

And then, apparently just because all that wasn’t enough of a bloody headache, there were the numbers.

What else could they be, if not the location of the Valkyrie?  There wasn’t much else up in that part of Canada besides the occasional polar bear. The most obvious explanation seemed to be it was some kind of trick or trap, a distraction, a piece of psychological torture – which it definitely was – but what if?  If the Russians did know where Steve’s body was, had they already retrieved it?  During the war other countries had certainly been working on their own super-soldiers. The Geneva Convention had condemned such experiments as inhumane, but that certainly wasn’t enough to stop some people.

She was going to need a strong cup of tea in the morning if she were going to be good for anything.

How had she been so stupid?  The FBI didn’t employ female agents – posing as one had merely played to Peggy’s sympathies.  And she’d already known that Lake was an actress.  She’d been doing MacBeth when Peggy walked in and Rose had even said she wasn’t terrible.  When Daniel had told her Strieber had called in the FBI she should have asked for the agent’s name then and there, but she’d been too annoyed.  If she’d known to expect Nedrick instead of Nadine she could have arrested the woman at once!

Why had she given Peggy the telephone number for a place she actually was staying?  Had she really expected Peggy to get in touch with her?  Was she supposed to have found the envelope and rung her hours earlier?

Not that it mattered now… by now Lake was surely long-gone.  If she’d heard that they’d found the real Agent Russel, she’d probably left the country. The only way they’d find her now was an incredible stroke of luck, and Peggy knew better than to hope for that.

Two days after searching Lake’s apartment, however, Peggy got one.

She arrived at work, and Agent Sato immediately stood up. “Carter!” he called out.  “The Chief wants to see you in his office.”

Brilliant, Peggy thought… absolutely tremendous. What more could be added to this palaver?  “Thank you, Sato, I’ll be right there.”

She set her purse on her desk and her briefcase beside it, and went and knocked on Daniel’s door.

At this point she would have thought nothing could surprise her anymore, but it was a genuine shock when Daniel answered with a smile on his face.  “Good news, Peg,” he said.

“What, really?” she asked.

“We have a sighting!”  He let her in.  “I got a call from the New York office – a man saw the poster of Miss Lake and recognized it.  He says she was a stewardess on his flight from Chicago yesterday.”

It sounded too good to be true but damned if Peggy wouldn’t take it.  “From Chicago to where?”

“New York City,” Daniel said.

Peggy paused.  “Does that mean Dottie’s in New York?”

“That’s what Thompson thinks.  He’s asked for you.”

That was a second surprise.  “Thompson asked for me?” Peggy said, not sure she’d heard right. Jack Thompson considered Peggy a humiliation waiting to happen… whenever he thought he was onto something big his first reaction was to push her out of the way so she couldn’t get involved. That was how she’d ended up in Los Angeles in the first place and she doubted anybody had ever been happier to sign transfer papers than he.  Now he wanted her help?

“He said to tell you that you’re the expert on these Russian girls.  Also that he’s still sore, and his wife doesn’t think he should be back to work at all yet,” said Daniel.  “What he told me is that we know Miss Underwood considers you a personal rival, and…”

“And he wants to use me as bait,” Peggy finished for him.  Now, that sounded more like Thompson.  “Well, you be sure to tell him he can call upon my expertise anytime. Do you have my ticket?”

“It’s waiting for you at the airport,” Daniel replied.

“I’ll pack a bag and be on my way,” she promised.

Daniel nodded.  “When I came in today, I was thinking it had been a while since we had a date and with all that’s going on it might help you relax.”

“I’ll take a rain check,” Peggy promised, and kissed him quickly before hurrying out.  In the door, however, she hesitated.  “Has anyone heard from Agent Russel?”

“No,” said Daniel.  “We assumed he’d been taken off the case.”

“So did he,” Peggy replied.

It had only been a couple of weeks since Peggy’s formal transfer to the West Coast had gone through… she had certainly not expected she’d be heading back to New York so soon after finally clearing her things out of Howard’s house.  Angie would be happy to see her, and perhaps they’d be able to have lunch together…

But mostly what consumed her thoughts as the propellers roared into takeoff was the question of why Lake would have gone to New York.

Of course, the fact that she’d been on the flight didn’t necessarily mean that was her destination.  She could have been on her way to Canada, or Europe, or just about anywhere except Australia, really.  Unless she thought her quarry were there, there wasn’t much reason for her to stop in New York City.  That was clearly Thompson’s theory, but if he were wrong they might ultimate accomplish nothing.

Was there another reason for her to go to New York? What was in New York that the Soviets might be interested in, besides the SSR itself?

The answer came to her, and she sat up straight. “Fenhoff!”

The man in the seat next to her, who’d been snoozing with a newspaper over his head, twitched.  “Gezundheit,” he muttered before settling down again.

Of course, Peggy thought… Fenhoff was the one who’d hired Dottie under false pretenses.  He was a major part of the reason why the Americans even knew the Russian women were operatives.  He’d done irreparable harm to their national security for the sake of a personal grudge.  It was supposed to be a secret where he was being held, but that didn’t mean it actually was.  He was in Sing Sing, just up the Hudson River from New York City.  If anything, they had even more reason to want him dead than they did Dottie.  They would never have lost control of her if not for him.

She checked her watch.  Still over an hour until their next landing, when she’d be able to telephone Daniel and tell him.

Her layover was brief, but she did just barely have time to find a pay phone and pass her theory on to Daniel.  He promised to pass it on to Thompson and she got back on the plane feeling much less antsy.  Not that she felt any great love for Fenhoff himself, but the government wanted to keep him alive, and if it helped her catch Lake and Dottie, well… maybe Thompson had the right idea.  Bait.

When the plane finally landed in New York, the SSR had a car there waiting for Peggy.  She tossed her suitcase in the back and climbed in – Thompson was in the back seat.  Peggy took the place next to him and said, “Fenhoff.”

“Sousa already called me,” Thompson assured her. “We’re arranging to beef up security around the place but we’re not gonna make a show of it.  We don’t want to tip Lake off.”

Peggy nodded – it was nice to be taken seriously, although she had to wonder whether Daniel had mentioned it was Peggy’s idea. As the car pulled away to drive to her hotel, she couldn’t resist a dig.  “Well, Miss Underwood may not be in town, but it’s lucky I’m still the expert.”

“You can think like they do,” said Thompson, as if agreeing with her.  “That’s what we need right now.”

Thompson had never been shy about the belief that women were basically illogical creatures.  He would never even try to get into one’s head.  “You mean I’m… underhanded and duplicitous?” Peggy asked innocently.

“You’ve fooled all of us more than once,” Thompson pointed out.

He did have a point there.  Peggy decided to consider it a compliment.  “How’s your war wound?” she asked, referring to the time Thompson had been shot in a hotel room.

Thompson grimaced.  “Sally’s still treating me like an invalid.  She thinks this would be a great time for me to get an office job. Something where I don’t get shot at.”

“I hope you told her the SSR would be lost without you,” said Peggy.

He gave her a sideways look.  “Was that sarcasm, Carter?”

“Of course not!”  Peggy changed the subject.  “I assume somebody has already called and checked with Sing Sing?”

“Fenhoff’s still in his cell and very much alive,” Thompson replied.  “We also interviewed some of the other passengers and crew from the flight.”

“And?”

“They all agree that the sketch from Russel’s description looks like the stewardess.  The pilot told me one of the girls who was supposed to be working the flight got a call from the police in her hometown to say her husband had been arrested, so this other lady took her shift.  None of them had ever seen her before but they didn’t care as long as she did the job.”

“None of them will ever see her again, I’m sure,” Peggy said.  “Any sightings of Dottie?”

“None that we know of.”

“I see.”  So unless she really were on her way somewhere else, Fenhoff was the only reason Peggy knew of for Lake to be in New York.  The next few nights were going to be a series of long, tired, boring stake-outs, but it wasn’t as if Peggy would have been sleeping anyway.

Once she was settled into her hotel room, Peggy made a couple more telephone calls.  One was to Angie, to let her know she was in town and that the two of them could get together and catch up once she knew her schedule better.  Then she did her best to catch a few hours of sleep, knowing full well she’d be up the entire night.

This went better than she’d expected – rather than rolling around squirming as she thought of the missed opportunities, she nodded off quickly and napped for a couple of hours, waking up groggy but at least having had the rest.  It must be because she felt as if they were getting somewhere, she thought.  The idea that Lake would be after Fenhoff was only a theory at this point, but it was a good theory, one that allowed her to take some action.  She combed her hair and got dressed in practical trousers with her holster under her jacket, and met the car that would be taking her up to Sing Sing.

“You owe me one, Marge,” said Thompson, as Peggy climbed into another car with him.  “The prison’s only got a few girls working for them, mostly nurses and laundry, but they’ve sent them all home until further notice so this Kay can’t slip in among them.  They didn’t even want you there but I convinced them we needed you.”

“I’ll remember that,” Peggy promised.

“We’ll have men at all the exits,” Thompson went on, “but I’m gonna put you right next to Fenhoff’s cell.  Should be no way she can get that far.”

“Should be.”  But if she did, Peggy thought, Miss Lake was going to find herself with quite a bit of explaining to do.  Hopefully before turning her over to the men, Peggy could get an opportunity to ask about those bloody numbers.

[hargrove-mayfields]

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 4

Pt 1.   Pt. 2    Pt. 3

Max reads the message written in the Christmas card over and over until her eyes are crossing, then does it some more.

She’s so caught up on that last part, the signature, “mom.” Her mind just can’t process what she’s reading.

Maria Hargrove was Billy’s mother, a woman who Max had never had the pleasure, or displeasure, depending on who you asked, of meeting, being that she was out of the picture years before Max got involved.

According to her ex husband, she was conceited, selfish, sleazy. Ask her son, and he’d say she was quiet, nervous, loving.

Rumor has it that she just up and disappeared one day, leaving everything behind but a packed suitcase and a stolen debit card. Everything including her ten year old son.

Max had never really gotten the full story, only bits and pieces of the truth, but up to this moment she’d been perfectly content with the explanation that she’d gotten too worn out by Neil’s abuse, and cut out everything that had to do with that life they shared.

The card in her hand and the note inside of it might suggest otherwise.

The retelling of events from the abuser abandoned by his victim and the scorned and forgotten child was something that Max always knew would never be the most accurate, and so she knows her perception of the situation might be wrong, but there was still something that was throwing her off.

For one thing, why would a mother who had deliberately left without her son just write to him like nothing was wrong? She supposes that Billy tried to keep guarded a lot of his personal life, and maybe this wasn’t quite as out of the blue as she thought.

But what bothers her more is that the message seems far too simple, too casual to be addressed to a dead boy. Maybe it is surprising for Maria to have sent anything in the first place, but for it to include such a normal interaction? There’s something there that’s rubbing Max the wrong way.

Thinking back, she realizes she can’t actually remember anybody ever mentioning that they’d called Billy’s mother to break the news, and she knows for a fact that she hadn't seen her face, the one immortalized in the photo of her that Billy always kept in his glove box, anywhere among the few guests that had shown up at his funeral. And then she figures it out;

Maria Hargrove doesn’t know her son is dead.

Max’s knees start to shake, so she lowers herself to sit on the stoop. Words can’t come close to describing how she’s feeling, holding in her hands that handwritten sentiment from an isolated mother to her dead son. Not even the tears that run down her cheeks and are dried by the winter wind can express the grief that that little Christmas card triggers in her heavy heart.

Just knowing that there’s someone out there that might care as much about Billy as she does is such a profound thought in her mind. But is it really the same?

Is there any comparison even able to be drawn between the grieving sister of a misunderstood brother, and the woman who’d knowingly left her child with a monster?

Max’s knee jerk reaction is to say no, that any person who would knowingly abandon another who needed them deserves in no way to be affiliated with her and her heartache, but deep down she knows that isn’t completely true.

Even she’s considered it, running away from Neil and Susan and Hawkins and never looking back, but she’s trapped, by school, by her friends, by a cemetery plot. For Maria to actually go through with it, that must’ve been the hardest decision of her life.

And besides, Billy would had to have already forgiven her if he gave her the Cherry address. There’s no way she would’ve gotten it on her own, they hadn’t even told anybody where they were going before they moved.

The whole thing was a lot more complicated than she’d ever expected.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there contemplating it, bright red tear streaks on her freckled cheeks, before her ride eventually shows up, and Max realizes that now more than ever, the last thing she wants is to go to some party.

Not even the idea of being around her loving friends seemed like too attractive an alternative right now, not since she’d stumbled across Billy’s Christmas card, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have a choice.

Bailing now meant she’d have to go back inside and face her parents after she’d already made them angry today, which would do nothing but prove Neil right. She could already imagine the smug look on his stupid drunken face, and so, despite her resignations, she stands to make her way towards the car.

Carefully, she slides the card back into its envelope and puts it into her jacket pocket, or rather the pocket of Billy’s jacket that she saved from being thrown out when they cleaned out his room.

Up until now, she’d been telling herself she only wore it because it was warm, but today she'd done enough reflecting to be able to admit that, more than any other excuse she might make for the sake of appearances, she just missed her brother.

The walk down the sidewalk to Steve Harrington's BMW waiting for her at the curb feels very much like a walk of shame.

Maria’s card burning a hole in her pocket, Max tries to focus on the crunch of ice melt under her boots, the wind whipping the branches of the bare ginkgo trees at the edge of their property, anything at all that might take her mind off the lump in her throat.

When she yanks the door open, she knows it’s a little too hard for an expensive car that isn’t hers, but she slumps down into the passenger seat anyways.

Steve makes a face, she assumes because he’s going to call her on not going for the backseat when they’re supposed to be picking up Dustin too, but then he just keeps staring at her.

Max scowls, “Are you going to take me to the party or what?”

He clears his throat and looks away. “Yeah I just, uh, wanted to ask, you know, if-if you were okay.”

“What do you think?” She spits.

Even though she’s pretty sure he wasn’t asking about the abuse, only curious as to how she’s coping with her brother's death rather than how she’s holding up against Neil’s temper, she tugs her sleeve down anyways, just in case he saw the bruises.

Of course Steve catches it, his eyes flickering down to the denim cuffs pulled over her hands and softening to show something like pity, before he says, “Sorry, I wasn’t-“

But Max doesn’t want his pity, so she shuts him down, clear exhaustion in her tear-thick voice, “Please, just drive.”

Most people would be happy to know there was someone in their corner, but the longer she’s alone in that house, the more others' empathy has come to make her feel smothered.

Because a thousand empty “sorry”s and condolences without feeling wouldn’t change a thing, wouldn’t make the bruises and the man who put them there go away or bring her brother back, they only piled up expectations on her to get better for their sake, so they didn’t have to watch her be all depressing anymore.

For that reason, it felt sort of insulting to her to have others showering her in pointless pity.

“Right, yeah, of course.” He says, but his gaze lingers again on Max’s face for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in thought as he turns away to start the car.

She rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat, hoping to show him that now is just really not the time for a therapy session from her babysitter.

Max’s subconscious must have disagreed, or maybe the concern on Steve’s face just seemed genuine enough that she buys it, because she feels the tears coming again.

It’s something that feels so incredibly shameful, to turn her head and stare out the window so Steve Harrington can’t see her crying, to even be crying again for what felt like the hundredth time today, but she just can’t stop herself.

She tries to cheer herself up by remembering that she is currently on her way to her friend's house, and that she would soon be celebrating and having fun with the people who care about her, because Christmas is not supposed to feel like this.

But knowing that when all of it was over, Billy won’t be the one there to pick her up in his Camaro, and that she’ll be dropped off back at a home where she isn’t safe, and where they’ll pretend her brother never even existed, the joy of the holiday is drained away entirely.

Her shoulders shake as she stifles her sobs, and there’s no hiding the few sniffles and gasps she can’t hold back. It’s humiliating, especially because she can feel Steve glancing over at her every now and again.

Were she not sure that the moment she opens her mouth she’s going to start ugly sobbing and betray her barely there dignity, she would’ve told him to mind his own. Instead, she just keeps her mouth shut and stares out the window, hoping he’ll leave her alone.

They’re a few minutes away from Dustin’s house when Steve sighs and suddenly makes a dead stop, pulling over against the curb. She looks over at him, and notices his eyes shining in a way that was probably not because of the heater being turned up too high.

“What are you doing?”

He lets his hands drop from the wheel, and turns in his seat to look at Max. “Do you even want to go to this party?”

She doesn’t really know how exactly she’s supposed to answer that. There isn’t time to explain the nuanced version, the internal debate she’s holding between friends or family, invasions of her privacy or a slap to the face, so she settles on, “I don’t know.”

“Then let’s ditch. My friends and I used to go down to Benny’s on Christmas for the pie, we should go.” Steve says, his voice wavering, just a little.

The implication of skipping out on the party to go out with a boy her brothers age, alone, mind you, when he’d already been accused once of being sweet on her, (the assumption was baseless and came from a panicking and very confused Billy, but still) is enough to make Max’s heart drop into her stomach with dread.

There must be a look on her face to match that feeling in her chest, because he specifies, “I promise it’s not weird or anything I just- you shouldn't have to be around all that right now.”

But she’s on the defensive now, and she crosses her arms and says, in her meanest tone of voice she can muster, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you and I both know they’re going to be nosy.” Judging from the concentration on his face, he knows he has to earn her trust back, and calculates his next words very carefully. “Wouldn’t want them asking any questions about your arm.”

In a way, that only does the opposite by making him seem suspicious, but her interest is piqued. He knows something, and he wants to talk about it without drawing the attention of everyone that’ll be at the Wheeler’s. That doesn’t automatically equal him being a creep, right?

Not when she’s got so much that she doesn’t want them to know either.

Turning it over in her head, she makes the decision that she's got enough that she doesn’t have to bolt, but she’ll still be wary. She's well aware that she has a problem with being too trusting, for years she’d thought Neil wasn’t that bad of a person, but she’s pretty sure Steve’s a little more open about his baggage, and her judge of character isn’t that bad once she gets familiar with somebody.

So she agrees in her own way, looking over to Steve and asking him, “What about Dustin?”

“He’ll be fine, dude. He’s like, super tough.” Steve mocks Mikes tone from when Mike had said the same thing earlier, having overheard through his own walkie that he always left on in case of emergency and putting lots of effort into his stupid teenage boy impression.

For the first time that morning she feels something other than the sting of despair, a small bubble of laughter from her throat and a smile finding its way onto her face as she mumbles, “Whatever.”

Read also on ao3!

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 3/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, I don’t think there’s anything else :)

Word count: 3998

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

It truly was high school all over again. As Y/N and Billy walked around the newly rebuilt mall, he kept bickering with Max about her going to a party. They had decided to meet up with everyone for a bowling game instead of sitting with Susan and Neil in tense silence by the dinner table, but the two were going at it like they would at home.        “You were so much worse at my age than I am,” Max exclaimed throwing her hands in the air. “Besides, I wouldn’t get drunk or even drink, I have graduation the next day.”        “You could be drinking water and still get roofied,” Billy’s hand slid into the back pocket of Y/N’s jeans. “Trust me, guys your age only think with their dicks.”        “Like you did?” Max’s ginger eyebrow rose, a smirk on her face as her brother only glared at her.        “Watch it, Maxine.”        “Call me Maxine again, and I’ll drive your Camaro into the lake.”        Billy pointed a stern finger at her as they entered the bowling alley. “Touch my car and you’re dead.”    “How're things between you and Lucas?” Y/N butted in, tired of their arguing. They really were siblings, and it didn’t matter if they were related or not, they definitely acted like it.        “We broke up.”        Billy snorted. “Which time is it now? Twelfth?”        “Fourteenth.”        “What happened?” Y/N asked lacing up the shoes the guy behind the desk had given her, but where she thought it’d be just stupid teenager drama, Max’s face completely fell.        “He’s going to NYU… got his acceptance letter during Spring Break.”        “Max, that’s amazing,” Billy said but his sister’s mood only soured.        “Yeah, well for him, not for us… he’s going to NYU I’m going to UCLA, but the thing is we’d talked about applying to the same ones, and he did it behind my back!” she exclaimed. “He didn’t even tell me he was thinking about it! That’s what pisses me off the most.”

       Billy grunted standing up after having put on his own shoes. “Do you want me to beat him up?”        “What? No!” Max rolled her eyes. “I can do that myself. I just… this isn’t the kinda shit we usually break up over.”        Y/N gave her a sympathetic look. Before she’d ever met Billy, she had been thinking about going to NYU as well. And if she was being honest, for the first few months they lived in California, she had regretted not going to the Big Apple. Things had obviously worked out just fine, but it was a little tear in her heart to know her plans hadn’t really gone the way she thought they would. Then again, Y/N didn’t think she’d have to fight the Mind Flayer either, so there was that.        “And what kind of things did you usually break up because?” Y/N asked as she and Max went to pick out their balls, Billy quickly ordering some drinks and food for them and the rest of the Party as they’d join later.        “I dunno,” the redhead sighed and looked up at the board showing her name. “Like in eighth grade, I dumped him ‘cause he stepped on the back of my shoes for a week. He thought he was being funny, so I told him to back off. Another time was ‘cause he’d been copying my homework, but when I wanted to do the same he wouldn’t give. That’s the kind of stuff we argue abou-“ her train of thought was interrupted as everyone else loudly entered the alley, Nancy's hand in Johnathan's as El, Dustin, Mike, Will, Alex and Lucas all barreling in.        Max's blue eyes locked onto the latter’s brown ones for a moment, before he broke the gaze and took one of the bowling balls. The silent treatment was in full force.          “Did he say he was going?” Y/N asked, after having scored a spare and sitting down onto one of the seats. El was instantly by their side, wanting in on the girl conversation.        “No,” Max groaned looking at Lucas who was holding the ball by his face, trying to figure out the trajectory that would give him a strike. “But that’s not the point. The point is, he didn’t even tell me he was applying… like I think we would be able to manage a long-distance thing… but it’s just… like he didn’t trust me, like he was afraid I would discourage him from doing it.”        “Would you, have?” Y/N hesitated to ask but knew she should. “If he had told you he wanted to go to NYU, knowing you’re set on UCLA, do you think you’d try and talk him out of it?”        “I just…” Max dragged a hand through her hair, tears she never let fall glistening on her lower lash line.  “I love him. I don’t wanna lose him. But he doesn’t trust me.”        By that point, Nancy, Johnathan, Steve with the addition of Robin who’d been busy earlier that morning had joined in on the game, and were all preoccupied with beating the kids' scores.        “Y/N!” Billy shouted, “You’re up!”        “Look, Max, I think you two need to sit down and talk about it,” the girl stood up and went to grab her bowling ball. “Maybe he was scared of losing you too… maybe that's why he didn't say anything...”        Her Y/E/C eyes zeroed in on the pins, arm pulled back and with a little skip forward, she let the ball go, knocking down the ten white pieces of wood.        STRIKE! The board announced with a little animation on it.        Max just huffed at the implication it had.

***

       Dustin ended up being the one who scored most.        “It’s the missing bones, I’m telling you!” he laughed as everyone gave back their bowling shoes and made their way out of the mall, the parking lot practically deserted save for a few cars.        Y/N’s hand was in Billy’s, and he was swinging them back and forth.    “How does that make any sense?” she asked looking up at the teenager. All of them had grown so much, it was practically unfair.        “It’s just the way it is.”        “So, you’re like Gumby or some shit?”        “Uh,” Steve butted in, “I’m pretty sure it’s gumbo. We had this conversation years ago.”        Y/N raised her eyebrow and looked at Robin who just rolled her eyes. “You do know gumbo is a dish, right?”        “Yeah, but does it have any bones in it?” he remarked. Nobody had anything to answer, so he just gave them a smug smirk, opening his car’s door. “Thought so.”        Dustin, Robin and Lucas piled inside Harrington’s vehicle while Nancy and Johnathan would bring Will, Alex and Mike home, Max driving with Y/N and Billy.        “We were actually thinking about going to Tina’s after we drop these ones off,” Nancy said, leaning on her door. “So, if you wanna join, we’ll be there in like half an hour.”        Y/N sighed, nodding her head and giving a small smile before ducking inside the safety of Billy’s car. They drove to Max’s in silence, the rock music that usually blasted on high had been turned down low, so Neil wouldn’t hear them approaching.        “Think about what I said. Please,” Y/N said to Max with a sympathetic smile as the teenager hopped out from the backseat.        She responded with a small nod and then closed the door.        The two watched Max skip up the porch and unlock the door. Only when her bedroom’s light was off and there was no other movement in the house did they pull away and started to drive down the road.        “Do you think we could go to that party?” Billy’s question caught Y/N completely off guard. It was already eleven thirty so without a doubt it would be in full swing.        “You didn’t want to earlier today, what changed?”        He just shrugged and looked back at the road, streetlights guiding their way. “Just thought it might be fun… ever since Clara, we haven’t had much time to ourselves. I absolutely love her and would give up everything for her happiness, but I just thought… I dunno… it might be fun…”        Y/N bit her lip as she watched Billy chew on the inside of his cheek. She didn’t really want to go. The thought of seeing Carol, Tommy and the other delinquents was not an appealing one, and, without a doubt, the woman would try to get a rise out of her, seeing as Y/N had helped the bad boy of Hawkins settle down, but he looked so nervous when he’d asked it, she just let out a sigh and nodded.        “Why not… besides, Nance, Steve and the rest are going as well, so… sure.”        But Y/N regretted that decision almost immediately. She didn’t mind parties, just the people that went to them, and when the first people she saw was Vicky Mulligan and Tina Wakefield sucking on some strangers’ necks she immediately decided to scour the place for her friends, if they had to stay.        “Look who decided to show up,” Tommy slurred, already intoxicated with his shirt buttoned open and sweat or beer trickling down his chest. “Ladies and gentlemen, the King of Hawkins has finally graced us with his presence. Though I have to warn you – he’s quite boring now. Doesn’t drink or even fucking smoke.”        Laughter and booing erupted throughout the house, and Y/N saw Carol snicker, as she had joined them by the driveway, a cigarette hanging between her fingers.        Billy didn’t even bristle as he pulled off his leather jacket and slammed his car door closed. “What’s the record?”        “What?” Tommy laughed dragging a puff before exhaling it through his nose.        “I asked what’s the record?”        Tommy’s lackeys all scoffed and crossed their arms before he answered. “You’re still in the lead.”        Y/N saw him smirk and threw her a wink. “Them I’m about to beat myself.”        She sighed, knowing what was going to happen. As the boys all gathered around Billy, grabbing him by the legs and waist to hoist him up, Tommy passing the hose to let the beer flow, she entered the house, harshly slamming her shoulder into Carol’s, Vicky and Tina sneering at her.        Pure Fuel was her mission, and that’s where she found her saviour in the form of Robin.        “You don’t look like you wanna be here,” she stated handing Y/N a red cup filled with the alcohol mixture. They’d shared English with Mrs Nelson during their last year of school, but other than a couple of group projects the two girls hadn’t interacted much, until the summer that changed it all.        Robin was still someone Y/N looked forward to seeing and hearing from, but she also knew that their friendship was nothing compared to hers and Steve’s. In a lot of ways, Robin had replaced Y/N as Steve’s best friend, but she wasn’t bitter about it. In fact, she was truly happy there was someone he could be completely himself without any other intention than being a friend.        “That’s ‘cause I really don’t,” Y/N snorted and gulped down half her drink. “I have no joy sharing air with those three harpies.”        Robin nodded and sipped on her gin and tonic. “It’s truly amazing how they haven’t changed a bit. It’s like they’re still stuck in high school.”        “You’re telling me,” Y/N shook her head. “Carol looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her sockets when I said Billy’s my husband.”        “I would pay to see that,” Robin pointed with a finger at her and chuckled in her raspy tone.        “I mean, imagine how she’d look if you said you have a daughter.”        They snickered for a moment and shook their heads, Robin looking to the garden where the popular ex-kids-now-adults had gathered.        “You find a girl in London?” the question took her attention away and though unexpected it wasn’t unwelcome. She trusted Y/N enough to come out and had never heard a harsh word from her. The blush that crept up Robin’s neck would’ve been enough of an answer, but she did give a soft ‘yeah’ as well.        “Tell me everything,” Y/N leaned forward, genuinely interested in what this person was like, and if she made Robin happy. But she didn’t get a chance to open her mouth when the deafening cheering of boys bombarded their senses.    “The Keg King still lives!” Tommy hollered over the heads of everyone, and Billy let out a yell of victory.    He couldn’t help himself as he slipped back into that persona that didn’t care about anything or anyone. Obviously, things had changed, and where he used to slink away to find his taste of the week as a teenager, Billy was very much so devoted to his family, but it was nice to let loose for a bit. If only for a moment to become the Keg King.         His wife stood by the door aisle looking at the aftermath of the whole ordeal, but contrary to where her husband had drunk beer for a minute and a half without stopping for a breath basically, she had been nursing the same cup of Pure Fuel the entire time.    In Y/N’s mind, she thought they’d come here, mingle for a bit, maybe talk with a few other of their fellow ex-classmates and go home to rest, but given how it was moving closer to two AM already, she knew that wouldn’t happen.        “Babe, did you hear that?” Billy’s arms were wide open in pride as he looked at her. “I’m still Hawkins’ reigning King.”        Y/N pulled her mouth in a tight-lipped smile and crossed her arms humming in agreement. “Imma get you some water.”       Tommy H scoffed. “Water; if you’re getting him anything get him Pure Fuel. It’s a party, not a sermon.”        “C’ mon,” Billy sighed moving to where she stood, hands grasping at her waist and pressing his forehead against Y/N’s. “Don’t be like that.”        “Like what?”        “A mood killer. This is just one night.”        Y/N scoffed pulling back. “What happened to ‘I don’t drink or smoke’? You were pretty happy to put both Carol and Tommy down when we first met them today, but the second you have a bigger audience it’s back to the old ways?”        “You know that’s not true,” the words were more like a growl than anything else. “I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”        “You wanted to come here,” she pointed out. “Not me. I’m just tagging along.”        “Well maybe then you should go home.”        That was not the answer Y/N expected to hear from Billy. With wide eyes, she pulled back from his embrace and stepped out of arms reach. “Maybe I will.”        With that, she turned around and weaved between the drunk people, searching for someplace quiet, but given how every single space in Tina’s house was packed, the only unoccupied place would be the woods at the back.        Y/N ran a hand down her face, as she stepped onto the forest floor, the noise of gravel crunching under her feet being replaced by moss, making her steps completely soundless.        “And what are you doing here alone?” a voice from the shadows startled her, but it turned out to be just Steve as it seemed he had run away from Tina’s as well.        “Reliving the first party of senior year, I guess,” Y/N snorted giving the house a quick look. “Billy’s the Keg King again, and I’m hiding in the woods. Seems about right.”        “Shouldn’t’ the Queen be next to her husband?”        “The Queen,” Y/N sighed, “is apparently killing the mood… I didn’t think things would go back to the way they were so quickly…” she bit her lip and exhaled another breath. “Like, I know we’re not that much older, and it doesn’t matter if we’re twenty-two or eighteen, but I thought, you know… we have a kid,” she chuckled. “We’re married… maybe I was just naïve thinking that he’d be the same as he’s in San Diego.”        Steve sighed, a pained look on his face. “Come on, don’t say that,” he went to stand next to Y/N. “The guy’s crazy about you. And I never thought I’d say that about Billy Hargrove. You know, the guy who went around town screwing every girl that would open her legs for him. He hasn’t so much as looked at someone else. He loves you, it’s just those assholes goading him.”        “I know,” Y/N sighed and leaned against the tree trunk. “and I get it, I guess. It’s easier for him to shut everyone out and become someone he isn’t here. At first, it was kind of sweet, that only I’d got to see who was underneath all that brashness and temperament, but now… it just feels like a weight dragging everything down. It’s like all those soft moments we’ve spent together and with Clara mean nothing as long as he gets to beat the record again.”        Steve could understand where she was coming from. They’d been best friends since forever, and after having been through unimaginable shit, he was genuinely happy Y/N had found someone to call her home. And having seen how affectionate Billy could be when they were at the bowling alley, his heart hurt for her.        “Hey,” he tried to distract her, “the junkyard wasn’t that far now was it?”        Y/N shrugged. “A twenty-minute walk. Wanna go?”        And it really was like high school all over again. With the booming sounds of the party remaining in the distance, Y/N walked side by side with Steve, catching up on the things they had missed over the phone or just reminiscing about how things were, and how they’d changed.        “Been drugged by any more Russians?” Y/N quipped as the sound of cicadas chirping trailed behind them.        “No,” Steve replied through a snort. “But anytime I walked into an ice cream shop, I was a bit weary.”        Their conversations drifted from one topic to another without a single pause. Y/N felt like she was seventeen once more, and that feeling only intensified when the smashed carcasses of old cars came in view, both of them dashing to the old bus they loved to sit on top of.        Together they set off into a sprint, loud giggles taking over the quiet of the junkyard, as Y/N leapt onto the hood of an old crushed BMW, but Steve slammed open the door of the bus and decided to use the hatch on its roof.        “I,” she breathed out heavily, “win.”        “You,” Steve mocked her out-of-breath voice, “cheated.”        “I did not!”        “Yes, you did!”        “Really,” Y/N lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “How so?”        “You had a head start!”        “No, I’m just not slow like you.”        At that, he showed her shoulder and she almost tumbled to the ground, had it not been for Steve’s fingers grabbing onto her jean jacket. Billy’s jean jacket that she had stolen to wear. She sighed and leaned her head against Steve's shoulder, nose hidden in the lapel of the piece of clothing, her husband’s smell enveloping her.        “I just really hate them. Hate how they were able to get under his skin when he didn’t even let Neil do it.”        Steve’s arm wrapped around her shoulder as he rested his head against Y/N’s. “Well, Billy was right about one thing – Hawkins’ a shithole.”        For a moment they were silent, eyes trained towards where the lights of the mall glittered brighter than the stars in the sky when something moved between the cars. Something that was coming towards them.        “Steve,” Y/N’s voice trembled as she extended a shaking finger. “What’s that?”

***

       Robin’s heart was pumping as if she had just run sixty miles, Nancy and Johnathan scattered throughout the house as they tried to locate Billy. He had disappeared after his little argument with Y/N either gone to a quiet place to gather himself or Tommy had dragged him somewhere and shoved a bottle of tequila in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other.        She finally found him when the Californian exited the bathroom, a desperate girl trying to flirt with him, not noticing how his eyes didn’t even lift to look at her. But he did see a panting Robin, that grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him down the stairs.        “I saw something in the woods.”        Billy was beyond confused. “What?”        “Steve and Y/N,” she took in a breath and quickly exhaled, “they were in the woods, talking and then I saw something."        His heart dropped to his feet at the words, but he masked it quickly with a sneer, trying to push through the crowd and into the kitchen, the anger that had returned to his blood since arriving in Hawkins, slowly starting to boil.        “Yeah, well, I hope those two have a grand fucking time.”        “No, you don’t get it,” Robin shook Billy’s shoulder a bit and yanked him hard enough that the man turned around. “I said I saw something.”        That’s when pure fear took over his body. In all honesty, he would rather Y/N cheat on him, to say she didn’t love him, tell him she was running off with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington than what Robin’s words meant.        Immediately, he was running or at least attempting to get out of the house and to his car. He could already see Nancy and Johnathan waiting by the door aisle. He was almost out of the woods, when a slurring Tina stopped him in the middle of his tracks, trailing a hand along his exposed chest.        “Billy, where are you going?” she tried to purr, but he just pushed her away in disgust.        “My wife’s missing, so I’m going to find her.”        “You don’t need her.” The woman was relentless, especially when there was liquid courage in her system. “She’s boring, a snooze fest. Bet she doesn’t even put out.”        Her whiskey stained breath slammed into Billy’s nose, and he physically recoiled.    “You need a woman that knows how to take care of a man’s needs,” Tina continued on.       Billy was fuming by that point. Every wasted second was a possibility of Y/N getting hurt. Sure, she had Steve with her, but as far as he knew, neither had any kind of weapon to protect themselves, and if Robin was sure that a monster from the Upside Down was lurking in the forest and maybe even tracking them, there wasn’t much they could use.    “Someone like you?” he asked.       Tina’s smirk widened, and she was emboldened, sliding her palm down his chest, abs and towards his belt buckle. “Someone exactly like me.”    “Listen here sweetheart,” Billy started grabbing ahold of Tina’s hand. “If in these two minutes that I’ve wasted on talking to you or rather listening to you put down my wife something happened to her, it’ll be your head I’ll be coming after. If even a single strand of hair I find amiss on her head, I’ll scalp you with my bare hands.”        “She’s probably off somewhere screwing Harrington!” Carol hollered after Billy as he pushed Tina from where she’d been grasping at the collar of his shirt.        “Go choke!” was the only thing he dignified them with.        Elbowing away Tommy’s hand that wanted Billy to turn around and prod him to do another stand, he rushed out of the house and to his Camaro Robin following suit while, Nancy and Johnathan piled into her car, but not before she took out a shotgun from her trunk and passed it over to Billy, a box of bullets with it.        “The junction before the junkyard. We’ll try and get there from the other side.”        No more words needed to be spoken as the engine roared to life, Billy speeding away from the party.        “Don’t do anything stupid, baby,” he muttered to himself hoping that somehow Y/N would hear his words. “I’m coming. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take): 

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: @genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @cracked-sidewalk98 @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01

A/N: If you wanna be tagged, please drop me a message :)

P.S. I went to see Spider-Man: Far From Home and it was such an adorkable movie, like omg I loved IT!!!!!!!!

[robinskey]

Coworkers (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Read Part Two Here

A/N: Okay, so this was going to be one long fic, but I decided to split it up into two parts. I’m hoping to get the other part out tomorrow, but I wanted to give you guys a little something tonight! I appreciate you all being patient with my erratic posting schedule as I settle into college. :) 

Warnings: Minor language, reader being clueless

Request: Heyyy could you do steve x fem! reader where reader thinks steve and robin are a thing and reader kinda ignores steve for a time until one day( he is super drunk) he goes to her house and just says he wants her back (even tho they never dated) thank you!!

You started working at Hawkins Family Video in the summer of 1985. It was just supposed to be a summer job so you could earn a little cash before college started. Then, after the scandal surrounding Hawkins Lab leaked, there was a mass exodus from Hawkins, which left your manager, Keith, short on employees. You decided to stay a few more weeks until he could find replacements. His search continued throughout the duration of August and bled into September, then October. Before long, mid-terms were rapidly approaching, and Keith still hadn’t hired a soul. That all changed about a week before Halloween.

New shipments always came in on Saturdays, so Keith had sent you into the back room to sort out the boxes while he manned the front desk. It was an unsurprisingly slow morning; people rarely stopped in before noon. Those who did just sort of quietly milled around the store, clearly just trying to waste time, since there wasn’t much else to do in Hawkins, Indiana. Thus, you were surprised to hear Keith start a conversation with someone. You couldn’t resist peeking your head out the door.

There were two gangly teenagers standing at the counter, staring intently at Keith. One was a tall, freckled girl with heavy eyeliner, high-waisted jeans, and a vaguely-familiar face. The guy standing next to her, though, you recognized immediately, thanks to his unforgettable head of hair. The last time you’d glimpsed that glorious mane was a few months ago, when it had been drenched in hair gel and squashed under a graduation cap. 

“Uh, just to be clear, we weren’t fired, you know,” the girl was saying. “The mall burned down and killed, like, a bunch of people.”

“Thanks for sharing. Didn’t know,” Keith said, somehow making a monotone ooze with sarcasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes; your boss was a lot of things, but “welcoming” wasn’t one of them. He pointed a finger at the girl and said, “Three favorite movies-go!”

She glanced around for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, then named The Apartment, Hidden Fortress, and Children of Paradise. Without showing any sign of acknowledgment, Keith turned to Steve, looking for his answers to the same question. You expected Steve Harrington to smoothly fire off a list of flicks featuring lots of action-packed scenes and scantily-clad women.

However, he just repeated Keith’s question, dumbfounded. Keith responded, “Did I stutter?”

Steve drew out a long “uh” before answering, “Animal House for sure, uh…” 

He brought his hand nervously to his lips, which he grazed over with his thumb. Oh, to be that thumb. His dark eyes darted around the room until Keith reminded him, “Eyes on me, Harrington.”

“Yeah, uh...Star Wars?” It sounded like more of a guess than an answer.

“A New Hope?” 

Steve stared at your boss blankly. “A new what now?”

Keith heaved a sigh. He was clearly already done with this kid. “Which Star Wars?”

“The one with the teddy bears, duh,” Steve said. 

He made a high-pitched noise that you figured was supposed to resemble an Ewok. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. You knew Keith wouldn’t be impressed, though, so part of you felt sorry for the poor boy.

Wait, poor boy? This was King Steve you were talking about. The last thing his big head he needed was for his head to get even more inflated with your sympathy.

“Hmph, no?” he asked. His female companion ducked her head, effectively hiding her face. Then, excitement lit up Steve’s features, and he started ticking things off on his fingers. “Oh! The movie that just came out. The one with the DeLorean, and Alex P. Keaton, and he’s trying to bang his mom-”

Was that...Harrington’s synopsis of Back to the Future? Really? God, was this guy okay? I mean, you knew he’d smoked a little in high school, but you didn’t know marijuana could do permanent brain damage. 

“Yeah. Those are my top three. Classics,” Steve murmured. He cast his gaze down awkwardly. Because as clueless as Steve Harrington could be, he still knew what was coming next.

Keith confirmed everyone’s suspicions by telling the girl, “You start Monday,” and telling Steve, “You start never.”

Steve blinked, the hurt evident in his chocolate eyes, even from a distance. The girl leaned into him, gently bumping her shoulder against his.  “Will you just, um-will you give us a minute?” she asked, gesturing to Keith. 

“Why?”

“Steve,” she said gently. The message she communicated through her gaze must have been convincing, since Steve simply nodded once before sliding his resume off the counter and walking over to a display. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, the girl leaned forward on the counter. She spoke barely above a whisper, and you had to strain to hear as she defended her partner’s honor. You crept up the aisle to get closer to the action in hopes of catching the rest of the conversation. 

“He’s a douchebag of the highest order, Robin,” Keith was saying.

That was when the mystery girl’s identity finally clicked. This was Robin Buckley-band geek, language nerd, school genius. You’d gone to high school together. She was a year younger and way too smart for her own good, so you didn’t share many classes, but you’d had the same homeroom last year.

“He was a bit of a prick to us in high school; I’ll grant you that, but he remains…” Robin threw a glance toward Steve, who was admiring the cover of every single movie on the shelf. “...a total chick magnet.”

The guy who’d just made an Ewok sound moments earlier? Yeah, okay.

“Yeah, okay,” Keith said, mimicking your thoughts. You made a mental note to try to spend less time with Keith so his terrible personality didn’t rub off on you too much. “And this is relevant to me how?”

Robin’s jaw practically dropped. She spoke, voice full of drama: “Earth to Keith. The ladies will come in just to see him. They’ll come in in droves. Droves, Keith. We sold so much ice cream that they had to get a second shipment from Michigan. Goddamn Michigan, Keith. And these ladies...these ladies are hot. They are so very hot. And there are too many for little Steve. He needs assistance. He needs your assistance, Keith.”

“What’s in it for you? You got a thing for him or somethin’?”

There was a loud clatter as Steve bumped into a cardboard cutout of a woman in a bikini. (You really didn’t understand why you even had that thing at a place that called itself a “Family Video” store. However, when you’d questioned it, Keith had just told you to “find something better if you don’t like that one”, and you weren’t about to spend your already-scarce income on a lifesize cardboard cutout.) The cardboard lady tumbled to the floor, despite Steve’s best efforts to rescue her. As he awkwardly tried to restore her to her former position, Robin turned back to Keith.

“We’re just-um-we’re just friends,” she said, even though the slight blush that sprung to her cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise.

“Oh! Fast Times,” Steve exclaimed, putting the fake woman back into place. He read from the caption at her feet. “Fast Times. Ever heard of it? Top three for me.”

Robin let out a twinkling laugh, and Steve smiled back at her.  

You didn’t understand why that simple exchange twisted your stomach into a knot.

Taglists:

General: @novaddictx @anabundanceoffandoms @rexorangecouny @morganvanilla@anolddayslover

Steve: @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh@peterhollandd

Stranger Things: @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

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If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

[carol-effing-danvers]

where we grew up

this is part two of the series “run long, roam far, return soon” part one: “knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe)” (cont.) (fin.) part three: “push me, pull you” 

(click here if you’d prefer to read this in AO3′s format)

Steve assures her that he’s done all the right things, followed all the right procedures. He’s calm, he looks…not relaxed because no one could possibly be relaxed in this situation, but he looks like someone who is collected and has control of the situation.

But Robin knows him, and she can see in his eyes that some piece of him has quietly died – maybe not forever, but this day has wounded him deeply.

So, she tells him he’s got this and when their lunchbreak is over, she goes back to the high school building and immediately goes to the main office. Impatiently, she dials and waits for someone to answer, anxiously hugging herself with one arm.

“This is the 11th Hour,” El answers in her best ‘customer service’ voice. “I’m Jane. How can I help you today?”

“I need you…” Robin sighs, closes her eyes, and puts a hand over her face. “Is Hargrove there with you?”

“Yeah, Robbie, hold on.”

There’s a clattering in the background before Billy’s gruff tone says “Buckley. What’s up?”

“You…you need to pick up Steve from work, today.”

“Car break down? Didn’t sound like it was in bad shape, last I heard,” Billy observes cautiously.

“No, Billy,” she says with quiet pain. “He’s-he might be there late. But he’s going to need you, when it’s finished.”

“Okay, Rob, you need to back up here. What’s going on?”

“Steve had to call CPS, Billy,” she whispers, “One of his kids came in with belt marks all over him, and while the school nurse was looking him over, Steve brought his older sister up and started asking her some questions, and he and the nurse realized very quickly that someone has been beating her around, too.”

Billy’s stomach drops. “But they’re-they’re five year olds,” he says numbly. “Little kindergarteners…”

“Yeah.” It’s amazing how much pain and anguish can be packed into a single word. “They are.”

He is, at this very moment, imagining anyone attempting to do that to his sweet little Lulu and the blind fury that left him for so long suddenly comes back with a fiery vengeance. “What kind of monster beats a five year old with a belt?!”

But the thing is…he-he knows. He was raised by that same kind of monster – Neil Hargrove absolutely beat Billy with a belt, more than once throughout his childhood.  He has no idea how Robin is managing her side of this conversation so calmly.

“Their mom is an addict, and it seems she doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to how her boyfriend treats her kids. Steve mentioned a couple of times throughout the year that he’d noticed both of them looking a little…unkept, but Rosie is a single mom and times are hard, so he gave her the benefit of a doubt,” Robin says grimly. “Turns out, they were looking unkept because the sister was the one trying to do the laundry and making sure they both got a bath and she wasn’t always so great at it. Not surprising, since she’s only nine.”

Swallowing past the sick feeling in his guts, Billy asks “Okay, so what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to be there when he lets himself freak out. He was acting super calm when I saw him because he has to finish class and wait with them until CPS can contact their aunt, but I’ve known him for a decade – the moment a child doesn’t need him, he’s gonna fucking lose it, Hargrove, and I know you’re the person he wants the most right now.”

Billy’s eyes go wide. “I’ll be there.”

“I know.”

Even with Robin's helpful warning, Billy doesn't really know what to expect when he walks down the Grade K hall. There are no children left in the classrooms here - school let out twenty minutes ago and these kids are too little for extracurricular activities.

He is expecting what he sees in Steve’s classroom least of all.

Steve and the other kindergarten teacher, Melanie Dohr, have rooms that mirror each other – boxy spaces slightly wider than they are long, with a doorway at one end that faces the children’s cubby stations, except that Melanie’s desk and chairs are to the left of the classroom door and Steve’s are to the right. At the very end of this room is a little sofa and an open space where they do story time and nap time and when he leans his head in to check on Steve, this is where he is sitting.

Squished right up against him on that sofa is a little girl with brown hair in two long braids. She’s a little girl, but she’s still too old to be someone Steve teaches. As Steve reads aloud, one arm around her, she listens intently as she leans into his side, a tissue clutched in her fist that she holds near her mouth as she silently cries. She’s heartbreaking and what’s worse – Billy actually recognizes her.

“Something that for lack of any other name might be called friendship existed and always had existed between Marilla Cuthbert and Mrs. Rachel, in spite of – or perhaps because of – their dissimilarity...”

This is Marcy Roberts, Martin’s big sister. He’s seen her many times, because Marcy walks her brother down to the kindergarten hall every morning before she goes back to Mrs. Webster in the third grade hall.

On their very first date, Billy had overheard Steve having a talk with Martin outside the classroom when he hit a classmate who called him names, and it reminded Billy so vividly of himself it was nearly painful. Of course Martin was the boy who’d taken a beating with a belt. He didn’t know why he hadn’t guessed it was Martin in the first place.

Silently, Billy makes his way into the room – he knows when Marcy spots him, because the fourth-grader immediately becomes tenser and tries to shrink into Steve’s side, her big blue eyes watching him wearily. Steve’s arm tightens around her, eyes briefly flicking upward before he serenely continues with his reading.

Old Billy would’ve been furious that Steve was deliberately choosing to ignore him – Old Billy was furious when Steve ignored him. New Billy slowly crept his way around to Steve’s desk while being watched by a little girl, settling back into the teacher’s chair and trying to look as innocent and nonthreatening as possible.

He wouldn’t consider himself a natural with kids, not like Steve was, and he’s definitely never had to interact with a child whose been treated…well, the way he’d been treated, he supposed. Lulu has never been afraid of him, but she also doesn’t really know any better. Uncle Billy is Uncle Billy, and he’s always been Uncle Billy in her eyes. And Justin is a worthless father, but he’s never actively tried to cause his daughter physical pain or mental anguish – though his complete disregard for her existence could hardly be called any better.

Steve is beloved by all of his students, of course, but for Marcy, he may literally be the only adult that she trusts. Marcy and Martin need him and that will hold his entire focus until they can be settled.

For a while, Billy wonders what happened to Martin, and then realizes that he probably had to stay in the nurse’s office. He knows from hard experience that sitting was likely painful and difficult at the moment if Martin got the belt. With any luck, the nurse has given him a light sedative, something to put him to sleep or even just make him a little more comfortable.

When Marcy’s focus is no longer dedicated to waiting for Billy to suddenly attack her, he takes the time to really look at her. Has she always been so small and thin? Is he only really noticing this now because he has some idea of what her home life is like? There’s a wrapping of gauze around her right forearm hinting that Marcy didn’t entirely escape the mercies laid upon Martin. Her hair – brown to her younger brother’s toe-headed blonde – is looking a bit unkempt and her clothes aren’t dirty but they are also certainly not new and Billy knows he wouldn’t have noticed any of this if Robin hadn’t already told him that their mother has been neglecting them.

But Steve had noticed.

Steve has been noticing, maybe the entire year, probably watching with helpless dismay as Marcy and Martin’s condition deteriorated right before his eyes as their home situation got more and more unhappy. Billy wonders what finally led him to the proof he needed to get CPS involved.

In hindsight, Billy now realizes that more than one of his own teachers had tried to get him to open up to them about the way Neil treated him at home, but he had been a scared and angry child and in early childhood, he hadn’t understood what they were asking for. And later on, he hadn’t trusted any adult enough to do that, until he’d become a sullen and violent teenager that everybody wanted to write off instead of an energetic and overeager child.

Marcy is still half hiding against Steve’s side, listening to him read – or maybe just letting the sound of his voice wash over her the way Billy is doing. Her hand is up near her face, fingers reflexively curling but she doesn’t actually put any of her fingers in her mouth. It’s not normal, is it, for a nine year old to still have the urge to suck her thumb?  

He loses track of time, letting the murmur of Steve’s voice soothe him into something like a doze, though his eyes are still open, when there is suddenly a knock on the classroom doorframe. A slim blonde woman with a briefcase wearing a navy blue pantsuit stood in the hall, standing beside a brunette woman with her hair cut into a short bob. “Hello, you must be Marcy!” the blonde says, just a little too bright to be entirely natural. “I’m Mrs. Rhodes, but you can call me Vicki.”

“Uh…okay,” Marcy says nervously, still glued to Steve’s side.

Steve gives Vicki a very charming smile – though now that Billy knows him so well, he can see that it’s a bit insincere. “Can I talk to Marcy for a just a second? Nurse Downing’s office is just down the hall and to the right if you’d like to check in on Martin. He might still be asleep, though.”

“Alright!” Vicki said, though the brunette looked like thrilled about this, she followed her back down the hall to the nurse’s office.

As soon as the woman’s footsteps had dwindled down the hall, Steve gave Marcy the worn down copy of Anne of Green Gables. “Keep that with you,” he tells her quietly. “It has my address and phone number inside. I think your Aunt Rachel will take good care of you, but if someone hurts you again, if you don’t feel safe, or if you just want to talk to me, call me, okay? Even if it’s really late at night, even if it’s not a school day, even if it’s the middle of summer, alright, Marcy? Any time you want to talk to me, call me. Alright?”

“Okay.” Marcy repeats, louder this time but with a wobble in her chin. She clutches the book to her chest like a shield, fingers tightening on the spine now that she knew the truth of its importance.

She surged forward, embracing Steve desperately, which he returns before plucking up her faded purple bookbag. “Let’s go find Mrs. Rhodes and Aunt Rachel. We’ll see how Martin is doing.”

---

The hand off was just as hard as he knew it would be. Martin was emotional and weepy, throwing something like tantrum – or Steve would’ve called it a tantrum if he didn’t know how scared and confused and traumatized he was – but Helen handled it pretty well and managed to calm him down. Marcy practically had a panic attack as they were leaving but Steve could almost see her reminding herself to be the responsible big sister.

Fuck.

Steve has to remind himself for the hundredth time that the state won’t let a single man with his history and his salary have one child, never mind two. No matter how much he loves them. No matter how torn up he is to watch them leave.

Rachel will do a good job, he tells himself firmly. Truthfully, Rachel couldn’t do much worse to them then her younger sister already had. Even after his gentle question of Marcy – something Vicki and Rachel will probably follow up on in more depth later – Steve isn’t exactly sure when Rosie checked out on her job as a mother. What little Marcy had admitted to, beyond the evidence directly on her and Martin’s bodies, left him believing that the real problem had been that Rosie was never checked in.

Rachel had looked unhappy with the development of this whole situation – unhappy, but not at all surprised. Steve thinks that maybe Rachel has long harbored some suspicions of her own.

Steve walks back to his classroom like a sleepwalker. He feels drained, like some kind of vampire has been sucking on his neck all afternoon.

Billy leaning against a corner of the hall, waiting for Steve to return. His eyes, so stark and vividly blue, remind him painfully of Martin and Marcy. Reminds him of a hospital bed, and a monster made of a mountain of corpses and carnage. Reminds him of the way Billy had looked against the starched white linens, and how for the longest time, that was the last image Steve ever had of him.

Deep in himself, he feels sick down to his soul. With time and practice, he’s gotten the hang of dealing with other people’s pain, but Steve has never quite gotten the knack of looking directly at his own. His voice crawls from his throat, falsely bright and without any warmth. “Picked a wild time to surprise me.”

“Wasn’t a surprise,” Billy grunted, watching him closely. The way he always seemed to be watching him. The way, Steve now realizes, the way Billy literally always had watched him. “Buckley asked me to take you back home.”

“I don’t know why,” Steve says, frowning at his desk as he idly tidies up before reaching to shut the lights off. “You don’t have to. I can drive, it’s not like I’m impaired or something.”  

“Humor me,” Billy replies shortly, in a way that tells Steve he won’t be taking ‘no’ for an answer. Not that he ever really takes ‘no’ for an answer. Steve finds it both aggravating and charming, and he knows that combination is going to get him into some serious trouble one day.

Steve shrugs, though even that’s half-hearted. “Fine, I guess.”

Maybe Billy and Robin are right – he doesn’t really remember the drive back to his apartment and he’s sure that he opened the door at some point, but Steve finds himself in the kitchen, just…staring at the cabinets, and he can’t quite recall how he got here. Standing there, with no Billy in sight.

“Billy?!” His voice cracks, his voice going shrill with the same panic that’s making his palms sweat.

“What, what’s wrong?!” Billy shouts from the bedroom. His bedroom. Their bedroom? “Stevie?”

“I-nothing.” Relief suddenly makes his legs so weak that he nearly just collapses right down to the ugly linoleum floor. “Nothing!”

Come back. Come back and hold me and don’t leave me – not now and not ever. Tell you love me and tell me you’re okay. Tell me everything is gonna be okay.

Steve slid down the side of fridge and on to the floor, breathing deeply in and out.

Back when they first began living together, Robin had very quickly caught on to the fact that sometimes Steve was…not okay, so she made him get some time with an anxiety specialist – paid for by the US government, because part of the cause of this condition was a secret interdimensional hole under the town that occasionally produced violent alien entities that killed and ate people, which Steve and Robin were both not allowed to talk about with the outside world. They taught him breathing exercises, meditation techniques for moments like this one.

When he can get his legs beneath him again, Steve hauls himself off of the ground and searches around for the cast iron skillet. They have the ingredients for cornbread around here somewhere.

It will probably still taste like sawdust to him, but the activity will occupy his mind, at least for a little while.

He feels bad that he can’t pretend cheerfulness, even to Billy. Beyond the aching numbness that has penetrated into his very bones, Steve’s anxiety is shrieking at him, telling him that if he keeps acting this way, Billy will leave. A voice in his head that sounds like Robin warns him that his inability to give a shit about even that isn’t a good sign.

They eat dinner, and Steve tries to answer like a normal person would, but he can tell by the way Billy doesn’t quite meet his eyes that he’s not doing a good job. A much less helpful and comforting voice – one that sounds more like his mother or his father – tells him not to be so sensitive. To stop overreacting.

That other voice, his Robin/common sense/better angel voice, won’t shut up. Won’t leave him alone. Tell him. If you don’t tell him, you’re always gonna feel like shit about this. Tell him, dingus.

In the end, it’s Billy himself that breaks that final barrier on his silence.

---

Billy knows how to solve this – or at least he knew how Henry solved this when he found Billy wandering around fucking Silver Lake in the rain. But he doesn’t really want to put Steve in a bath of ice cold water and pour whiskey down his throat until he gags. Lost white boy. Hey, lost white boy! Why you walkin’ round lookin’ like somebody whipped yo dog? Huh?

He never did give him a real answer. What could he have possibly said?

Part of the problem is that if Billy didn’t know him so well, Steve would seem almost normal. But he seems a little extra vacant throughout dinner, while watching television, even while brushing his teeth. Like somebody replaced his boyfriend with a friggin’ Stepford Wife or something.

As gently as he can, Billy removes the remote from Steve’s nearly limp fingers. Steve barely blinks at him – though it would usually garner at least an indignant squawk from him. He tries to think of a way to say it diplomatically. Fail, because he’s Billy Hargrove and he has no diplomacy – and says: “Are you going to talk to me about this or do I have to torture it out of you?”

He’s entirely joking, but Billy flinches when Steve absently replies, “I doubt you’ll have any better luck than the Russians,” blinks, and then says: “What?”

Swallowing down his queasiness – Max has passionately defended Steve’s bravery at Starcourt before he ever even returned to Hawkins – he sweeps back the bangs hanging into his eyes. “Your kids,” he says, still clumsily attempting gentleness. “Do you want to talk about that? What happened?”

Steve smiles weakly, giving Billy a hug that held maybe a tenth of the strength he normally possesses. “No,” he whispers, face hidden away against Billy’s neck. “No, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Billy swallows again, wondering why he feels so disappointed. He doesn’t really want to hear the grisly details – he’s probably got firsthand knowledge of most of it already – but at the same time, it feels like part of Steve doesn’t fully trust him. Though that idea should sound ridiculous, an insecure part of himself – mostly the part that still remembers his dad calling him a fuck-up all the time – wonder if Steve is actually as serious about them as Billy is.

Because Billy is like…insanely serious about them. A hundred times more serious than a heart attack, serious.

If a single pastor in Indiana woulda let him, Billy would put a ring on the long white second finger of Steve’s left hand tomorrow. That’s how serious he is. They’ve been together less than a month, but a part of him has belonged to Steve, with Steve, for more than ten years now.

Beyond even his own paranoia and insecurity though, is just…plain old worry.

He’s pretty much always known that Steve has a heart of hold, but it’s starting to look like maybe this day has hammered it to pieces. He watches Steve brush his teeth mechanically, unaccompanied by any of his usual chatter, moving like someone twice their age.

At bedtime, they usually trade off being the big spoon and little spoon, but this time, Billy stays facing Steve, gently strokes his cheek. A part of him feels a flair of love and hope when Steve leans into the touch. “Take it easy, heartbreaker,” he whispers, sweeping back Steve’s bangs again. “I’ve got your back tonight.”

The streetlights outside spread across their bed in a warm orange glow, allowing Billy to watch Steve blinking in a heartsick daze. Faintly, Billy hears him say “He was just crying. Just crying the whole morning, and I couldn’t understand why. By the time I took him to the nurse’s office, I-I think I already knew.”

Steve is the one crying now – crying and hangin’ on to Billy like he’ll disappear.

Billy’s just stunned, stunned and heartbroken by how utterly devastating this has been for Steve. He’s speechless, and the only thing he can do is hang on and be here for him. So he does.

---

The next morning is one in which Steve is allowed to sleep in, both because it’s Saturday and also because it seems that Billy has already gotten up to feed Angie for him. Normally she wakes him up whether his alarm goes off or not. He felt the mattress move just before dawn, but Billy is in bed with him now, wrapped around Steve’s back. He’s got a lowkey headache from all the crying – or trying not to cry – that he did yesterday, but he feels calmer about the world today. Marcy and Martin are safe, and Rachel will make sure they stay that way. Billy is here.

Relaxing back into the pillows, Steve finds Billy’s hand resting against his belly and laces their fingers together. He can tell that he’s already awake – his fingers squeeze back at his own too readily.

“I thought about you,” he admits quietly, tracing over Billy’s knuckles – rougher than his own, belonging to fingers shorter and thicker than his own. “The head nurse probably thought that I was going crazy. He was just…staring at me, on the bed. And I kept thinking about the last time I’d seen you before you left town.”

“What happened to me…it’s all in the past,” Billy says simply, and the ways his arms tighten around Steve’s body is comforting but the words don’t soothe him.

It’s all in the past.

But it wasn’t. Not for Steve.

“I use to wonder where you were,” he whispers, lifting Billy’s fingers to trace his lips over the scars on those knuckles. “No…not wonder. I use to worry. About you – where you were, what had happened to you.”

And now that the words had were finally coming out, Steve couldn’t hold anything back. “I’d worry myself sick, because the last two times I’d seen you-” He chokes, surprised anew that even with Billy right beside him, those images held just as much power over him as they had before. “-the last times I’d seen you, you were dying or you were-you looked so hurt and lost…”

“I’d wonder if you were even still alive – were you okay? I used to have these-these really vivid night terrors about that night in the mall…” He closes his eyes and swallows past the hard lump sitting in his throat. “Robin made me see a doctor, it got so bad – she didn’t know the specifics, but she did know that it wasn’t getting better.”

And for ten years, he hadn’t been able to say the name of his crush out loud, like there was a terrible curse placed on Steve. He laughs weakly. “I-I remember nearly fainting when El sad she’d seen you at Max’s wedding, and you looked well. You were happier. Calmer. It seemed so silly after that – though I still wondered what happened to you.”

“That’s not silly at all,” Billy murmurs, and he sounds thought, squeezing Steve around the middle and warming him right through. “Was I okay? I wasn’t. Not for what felt like a long, long time.”

To Steve’s surprise, Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and continues speaking. “After I tried going back to my mom’s – I was kinda homeless. I mean, I had the truck, but I’d just got out of the hospital and I could barely sleep for more than an hour or two at a time and every little noise made me wanna crawl outta my skin. I didn’t really notice much back then, but I’m sure anybody who walked down the street crossed to the opposite side when they saw me coming toward them.”

“This guy – this random black dude named Henry found me walking around Silver Lake, just wandering around by myself in the rain. I’m still surprised nobody called the cops on me. Anyway, Henry took me back to his apartment, poured whiskey in me until I gagged and threw a bucket of ice water over my head.” Billy chuckles slightly. “Miguel was so mad at him for that.”

“Miguel?” Steve repeats in a whisper, terrified that Billy will stop talking.

“Yeah, Henry’s boyfriend, Miguel. He was a nurse. I called them Harold and Maude just because it drove him crazy. They, um,” Billy took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled hot air down Steve’s neck. He shivers and Billy cuddles closer, Steve’s heart thump, thump, thumping for him. “They were part of the group of volunteers who like…took care of people with AIDS. A lot of their families just kind of…abandoned them.”

Thrown them away, Steve thought, heart sinking. Just like Billy’s mother had (repeatedly) done to him.

Quietly, Billy says “For my first couple years, that’s what I was doing. Helping Henry and Miguel and the other volunteers. Looking back on it, they probably thought I’d lost someone to it. Most of us had, it seemed to be everywhere.”

He’s silent for so long that maybe Steve thinks that this is it, these tantalizing hints are all he will get of Billy’s past for right now, and Steve continues obviously stroking at his knuckles. He aches at the idea of Billy, still injured and hurting from the rejection of his mother, wandering through California all alone, until a good Samaritan was kind enough to take care of him.

Then Billy says, “Sometimes, I wished…I wished that had it.”

And Steve can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t think. With five short words, Billy had wrecked his whole thinking brain. “You…that you had…”

“Yeah,” Billy says, very softly. “I didn’t want to die, I didn’t even want to be sick. But HIV was a concept Henry and Miguel would’ve known how to understand. I know that they saw the bandages, that first night, and the scars later on. I think I spent the first year there wishing that I were sick instead, just so that I would be able to tell someone what had happened to me.”

Steve can’t stand doing this without seeing Billy anymore and rolls to face him. “You shouldn’t have had to do that by yourself,” he says, nose trailing down Billy’s neck. “Nobody should have to do something like that by themselves.”

Willing his anxious stomach to settle, he adds “I hate that you went through that and that you were in such obvious pain that a literal stranger could see it. I hate that it took meeting two complete strangers for someone to finally care about when you were hurting. But more than anything, I hate that I wasn’t there for you when you needed someone.”

Billy’s freckles show in the morning sun, and the light makes his eyes bluer. He leans into the touch as Steve holds his cheeks in both palms. And what he says next makes Steve love him just that little bit more: “Maybe not. But I used to be a little boy, just like Martin Roberts. And you were there when he needed you, when Marcy needed you.” Softly, painfully gently, Billy kisses his mouth. “Because of you, Martin doesn’t have to grow up into me someday.”

Steve caresses down Billy’s cheeks with his thumbs, palms tickled by all the bristle. He whispers, “I don’t see growing into you as a bad thing, Billy.”

Billy huffs out a laugh, long eyelashes falling to his cheeks. Just the lightest of flushes touching the tips of his ears. “You were there, y’know.”

“Hm?” Steve murmurs dreamily, caught in the spell of those freckles and lashes.

“Every pair of big brown eyes were your eyes. Every lanky brunette with a sweet smile was you. I saw you everywhere I went. Trust me, even if you didn’t know it – you were there, heartbreaker.” His eyes devour Steve’s face, gaze lingering at the curve of his lips. “You're here with me right now."

When Steve cuddles closer, he rests his head right above the scars that mark the place where the Mindflayer pierced his chest. He has never been more owned, more possessed by anything than the feeling of his bare hand on Billy's chest. "Wild horses couldn't drag me off."

[howfarethestars]

Don’t Go Breaking (Into My Apartment)

“You broke into my house drunk thinking it was your friend’s house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we’re good” AU

read on ao3

Thor didn’t often spend his Saturdays alone, at his apartment, watching reruns of Chopped on the Food Network with his cat in his lap, but Steve had cancelled their plans last minute and Loki was going through one of his “I wouldn’t be caught dead with you” phases and Bruce was busy working on his latest PhD or whatever, so here he was. He idly scratched behind Pegasus’ ears and narrowed his eyes at the screen. Come on, Ricardo, don’t make a salad with a minute left on the clock, he thought with a rueful smile, I had faith in you.

Thor watched tensely as Ricardo threw a pile of spinach and olive oil on his plate while the clock ticked down. Even Pegasus seemed on-edge, worried for their friend Ricardo.

There was a knock at the door, sluggish yet firm. Thor’s brows furrowed, and Pegasus shot off his lap and towards the door. She was like a dog, that one. Thor checked his watch. It was past midnight, meaning whoever was at the door was most likely drunk. He decided to just let them figure out that this was not their apartment on their own and just keep going. He snapped his fingers, trying to call his cat back to him, but she’d already plopped down at the door and started meowing. It was a lost cause until whoever was behind the door left.

Thor settled deeper into the couch, breathing a sigh of relief when Ricardo threw his hands up. He’d done it, the madman.

The knocking ceased, finally, and Thor thought he was in the clear. He tried once more to call Pegasus to the couch, but she stayed seated in front of the door, her white and grey tail flicking back and forth behind her.

Thor waved a hand at her. “Oh, forget you, Peg,” he mumbled, cutting the volume up on the TV.

The volume was almost too loud for Thor to hear a faint squeaking coming from the door, but he heard it. Dread pooled low in his belly. He crept off the couch, letting his blanket slide off his legs and onto the floor. He muted the TV. Pegasus meowed loudly. Thor tapped his pointer finger on his lips, as if the cat could actually understand his human signals. He snuck past his couch and into the foyer, readying himself to deal with some drunk freshman.

There was another squeak of metal on metal, and to Thor’s surprise, the door came completely off its hinges. Completely. It fell to the ground with an ear-shattering thud, revealing a very drunk woman with a bright orange screw driver in her hand. She stuffed the tool in her back pocket and pushed past Thor like she owned the place. Thor was just too shocked to say anything when she stumbled inside and collapsed on the couch.

“Why didn’t you answer the bloody door?” she slurred, her voice muffled by the couch cushions. “We had an agreement, Korg.”

Thor stared down at his door, which now lied in the middle of the hallway, looking lonely. He blinked a few times, his lips parted. Pegasus mewed softly and pawed at the door, like she too was confused by its current state.

“Sorry ‘bout your door, man, but your handy w’things, yeah?” the woman said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, “Wha’ever. Shoulda let me in.”

Thor shook his head to clear the cobwebs out and went about standing his door back up and placing it awkwardly back on its hinges. Thankfully all the screws had rolled back inside, so he gathered them up and placed him on the counter.

“Cut the bloody TV down,” the woman groaned, covering her ears.

Thor watched, still a little out of it, as Pegasus trotted over to the couch and hopped up on top the back cushions. She sniffed at the woman’s dark hair before jumping down onto the small of her back.

The woman cursed loudly and bolted up, sending Pegasus flying. She whipped her head around, suddenly alert. “Crap. This isn’t Korg’s place.”

Thor finally snapped out of it, but instead of doing the rational thing and calling the cops, he doubled over in laughter. He laughed so hard that tears streamrd down his cheeks. He stumbled backwards against the counter, clutching at his stomach. He pointed at the woman, who’d scrambled off the couch and now stood a few steps away from him with a blush on her cheeks.

“You,” he breathed, “are very drunk.”

The woman humph-ed, and folded her arms over her chest. “Quit laughing!” she snapped.

Thor lost it again. “I can’t! You just took my door off its bloody hinges!”

The woman looked in horror at the disaster that was Thor’s door and paled. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she said, this time actually sheepish. “Geez, I thought this was my friend’s place.”

Thor wiped at his eyes. “It’s alright,” he said, chuckling one last time. “Really.”

The woman buried her face in her hands and groaned. Pegasus, who was apparently amazing at reading situations and knowing how to help, rubbed against the woman’s legs and purred. The stranger’s fingers spread slightly, just enough for her to see, and she looked down at the cat.

“See? Peg seems to like you,” Thor said. He held out his hand. “I’m Thor.”

“Brunnhilde,” she said, taking his hand. “I suppose you’re going to call the cops now, yeah?”

Thor shrugged. “Nah. Pegasus likes you, and she’s a great judge of character.“

Brunnhilde’s shoulders slumped in relief. “That’s good. I can’t go back to jail,” she said, shuddering. Thor couldn’t tell if she was kidding. “I better go. Unless you want me to fix that door...? I should. Fix your door, I mean.”

Thor shook his head before he could stop himself. “No, stay. You’re drunk, you don’t need to be driving.”

“I’m not an idiot, I wasn’t going to drive,” she argued. “And you could be a murderer.”

Thor pressed his lips together in an unimpressed line. “I could be a murderer, but you just committed breaking and entering. So stay or I’ll call the cops.”

Brunnhidle’s pretty brown eyes widened. “You’re blackmailing me into staying over?”

Thor nodded. “I’ve got a guest suite,” he said, “and I’m just looking out for your safety.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Yes, I do. Your name is Brunnhilde.”

Brunnhilde turned her head in a failed attempt to hide her smirk. “Alright, Thor. I’ll stay.”

Thor grinned. “Yay,” he chirped. “Want something to eat? I’ve got Pop Tarts.”

Brunnhilde chewed on her bottom lip. She looked like she desperately wanted to refuse, but she sighed and nodded anyway. “Yeah. What flavor?”

“Strawberry, blueberry, and cinnamon,” Thor said, trying to hide his excited grin. He was a friendly guy, and one of his greatest joys was making new friends. Now one had busted down his door.

“Cinnamon,” Brunnhilde replied, hopping up onto the barstool and swinging her bare legs over the side.

“Toasted?” Thor asked, tilting his head at her over his shoulder, and flashing a friendly smile.

Brunnhilde rested her head on her chin and nodded. “Of course.” Her eye lids drooped, revealing white markings Thor hadn’t noticed before. They were pretty.

“Two?”

“Mhmm,” Brunnhilde mumbled sleepily, her eyes now completely shut. Thor smiled softly at her. She was really pretty, actually, with creamy brown skin and dark hair and round cheekbones. Thor grinned again. Maybe he’d found more than a friend.

“So you’ve got to tell me, Brunnhilde, how’d you get this drunk?”

“Party,” she said with a shrug, “What else? Some crazy sugar daddy that calls himself The Grandmaster, I don’t know. He’s nuts, but he throws wild parties.”

“Sounds pretty wild,” Thor laughed, shaking his head as he dropped two Pop Tarts into the toaster. He pushed down the lever, then turned back to face Brunnhilde.

“There were some things I’d rather not relive, actually,” she said. She opened her eyes and narrowed them at him. “Tell me why a hot guy like you is home alone on a Saturday.”

Thor chuckled at her description of him, not that he hadn’t been called “hot” before; he was well aware of his looks. “My friends cancelled, and my brother hates me.”

“That’s a shame,” Brunnhilde said, shaking her head ruefully. “Really, you should’ve come to the party.”

Thor shrugged. The toaster dinged, and the heavenly smell of cinnamon filled the air. He plopped them on a plate and passed them over.

“Bon appetite,” he joked as she took a bite. He expected her to wince at the heat, and opened his mouth to warn her, but she dug in anyway. Without hesitation. It was pretty attractive.

“Thanks, Thor,” Brunnhilde said. She wiggled her toes in her sandals to amuse Pegasus and smiled a little. “But I better head to bed. You’re the best, you know?”

“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.

Brunnhilde jumped down, throwing her head back laughing as she did. She carried her Pop Tarts in her hands.

“The guest suite’s the third room on your left, and the bathroom is the second,” Thor called after her, leaning over the counter to watch her disappear down the hall. He settled back on his feet and shook his head. Pegasus launched herself up on the counter and mewed at her owner. He scratched her head. “What have I gotten myself into, Peg?”

—

The next morning, Brunnhilde woke up to three things. One, a massive headache that felt like a hammer splitting her skull. Two, the smell of bacon. And three, the overwhelming sense of panic that accompanied the feeling of not knowing where she was or how she got there.

Brunnhilde shot up in bed and threw the covers off her body. She was clothed, thankfully, and wearing the same black romper she had been wearing the night before. The room she was in was small, painted blue, with a big window on the left wall that was drowning the room in sunlight. Way too bright sunlight, actually. She stumbled out of bed and forced the thick white curtains shut with a grunt. She pressed a hand to her forehead and racked her brain. How the bloody—

A cat mewed, drawing her attention to the cracked-open door. Brunnhilde narrowed her eyes at the little grey and white cat that bounced inside. It came straight to her and rubbed against her legs.

“Okay, what the—“

“Pegasus!” a deep, hushed voice called. “Get out of there, she’s still...” The door creaked open further, revealing the very handsome face of a man Brunnhilde didn’t quite recognize. His blue eyes widened. “Oh, she’s awake.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Brunnhilde said, clenching her fists at her sides. She’d taken a self defense class, she could fight him off if she needed to. “Who are you?

The man pushed the door open completely. He was large, at least six foot three, and very (very) muscular. Brunnhilde was suddenly less certain that she could take him. “I’m Thor, you broke into my house last night, ‘member?”

Horror flooded Brunnhilde’s veins as the events of last night washed over her. She clamped her hand over her gaping mouth. “Oh...oh, Thor I’m so sorry. I was so bloody drunk last night, and I’ll fix your door.”

Thor chuckled and waved a hand. “It’s alright,” he said, “Come on and eat before you go home.”

Brunnhilde sighed and followed him out of the room and down the hall. The living room and kitchenette looked less blurry than it had the night before, she had to admit. The embarrassment of the whole situation made her want to charge right out of Thor’s slightly off-kilter door, but her head was still aching, and that bacon smelled really, really good.

“There’s Advil in the cabinet,” Thor said, taking his spot in front of the stove, which is where that amazing smell of pork was coming from. Brunnhilde’s mouth watered.

“This one?” she asked, opening up the cabinet closest to the fridge. Thor nodded, but she’d already grabbed the bottle of Advil and was bringing it down. “Got it.”

She swallowed two pills dry, then meandered back to the bar. Pegasus was curled up in a ball on the counter, and lifted her head when she heard Brunnhilde. She rubbed the cat’s back, earning a round of purring in return.

“She really does like you, you know?” Thor said, sliding a few slices of bacon onto a plate. He brought the plate over and placed it in front of Brunnhilde. “She actually hates most people. Except for me, Bruce, Steve, and Nat. She despises both of my siblings.”

Brunnhilde laughed and took a bite of bacon. It was perfectly crispy, exactly how she liked it. “I really can’t thank you enough, Thor. For letting me stay and, you know, not calling the cops.”

Thor smiled and pulled up a stool on the other side of the bar. He stole a slice of bacon off her place and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. Brunnhilde was mildly impressed. “It was the least I could do.”

“The least you could’ve done was called the cops, actually. I broke into your apartment, and you cooked me breakfast.”

Thor shrugged. “I was raised right, I guess.”

“Clearly not,” Brunnhilde laughed, “You let a stranger into your house!”

Thor ate another piece of bacon with one hand and petted Pegasus with the other. “I’m a...kind soul?” he offered.

“You’re nuts, is what you are.” Brunnhilde ate another piece of bacon before jumping down off her stool. “Listen, I really should be heading back. My roommate hates me enough as it is, she’ll kill me if I don’t pick up groceries.”

Thor nodded. “Before you go,” he said, his eyes scanning the counter. They locked on a notepad and pen against the wall. He snatched them up and scribbled something before handing the strip of paper to her. “In case you get drunk again.”

Brunnhilde blushed slightly and read what he’d written. Peg would really miss you if you didn’t come around anymore. And then his number. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile.

“Don’t worry,” she said, looking back up at him and tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll definitely get drunk again.”

[supersoldiersruined-me]

Caelus

A/N: This is my entry (super late yet again) for @ruckystarnes Summer of AUs challenge! And for a lack of inspiration, the titlte is space in latin! loll I had an inital idea when I signed up but this honestly took me so long to grasp and then it just poured out! So here it is, thank you for being so patient love! 💖 Beta: babyboo @eyesfixedonthesun22 Warnings: language, smut, gay sex, mention of blood  Word count: 5714 Prompt: Space AU, Stucky

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“Steve, you jackass! Come back!” There’s no point in yelling twice. Bucky knows. But his best friend is storming towards the recruiting line-up with a mighty will. When they had denied him to join the army, Steve jumped on every last occasion to prove himself.

Not two weeks ago, Stark Industries announced a new advanced project that would allow a select group of candidates to participate in a space camp tryout. They’d be secluded into experimental ships, given some basic training and then experts would monitor their behavior, their reactions to simulated situations. If they made it out alive - and sane - a month later, they’d be taken to Stark’s secret facility and given proper training and instructions. Every boy in New York reached out like little kids given the gift of their lives.

So Bucky is standing there in the busy streets of Brooklyn, arms up in disbelief. The sick boy was going to go against the odds once more. He was a foot shorter than the men around him. Arms frail, and thrown into an asthma attack once he reached the building. Security threatened to keep him out - much to his safety - but Steven Grant Rogers does not back down because of some disability.

“I swear to God,” Bucky mumbles under his breath as he begins to make his way towards the atroupment of testosterone. 

“There’s no reason for me to be doing less than these men!” Comes as a shout out of Steve’s mouth. He’s red and Bucky isn’t sure if it’s the rage or yet another one of his problems surfacing.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go home,” he tries to reason with him.

“No Buck! Don’t you get it?” Steve turns back to the guard. “I’ll fucking die anyway! Might as well it be doing something important…” His face winces at the thought; he’d never mentioned his illness as something so weighing, so dark.

“Steve…” He brings his hand to his best pal’s shoulder as he tries to comfort him. “Your value isn’t measured with what you can do for the world. You take care of me and that’s plenty.” Steve sighs and accepts defeat.

“Fine,” he looks into Bucky’s eyes, tears of anger filling his own, “I guess we can go.”

They turn towards the street and start walking home. As he looks over his shoulder at the line of people still hoping to get a shot, he sees a strange man scribbling down a notepad, looking at the two of them leave with a smile. Round glasses frame his face, he hasn’t shaved in a week. From his outfit and his demeanor Bucky knows he’s German. He shrugs it off and turns his attention back to his friend, throwing his arm around his neck.

It’s a week later when a knock at the door startles the boys out of their sleep. It must be around three in the morning, as far as Steve can tell. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand and looks over at Bucky in annoyance.

“Jerks,” he whispers as he recalls the nights of torment the kids from the neighbourhood had him endure - it was the reason Bucky had moved in with him.

“Let me take care of it,” the dark haired man replies. 

“Bucky, stop. I can take care of myself.”

“See, the thing is, you don’t have to.” He shakes his shoulder before walking over to the door. There’s a paper taped to it, bright and clear texts surround a pointy, metal ship image. There’s the Stark logo on it, and it makes him shiver in excitement.

“Steve…” He trails. “Get your ass over here.”

He hands him the poster and gives him a minute to read. It begins to tremble in his hands when he reaches the last sentence: “We are glad to announce that you have been selected to participate in an experimental camp supervised by the Stark Industries.”

There’s a place and time for them to be the next day, and they spend the rest of the night getting their luggage ready, along with making up stories and tripping out over the opportunity.

*

The rustic walls of brick have transformed into sterile steel. The floors are made of a plastic-like material - something easy to clean, Steve notices. It would be impossible to reach the ceiling and he’s wondering how they even managed to build this facility anyway. It’s highly distinct from the level of ingenuity of the current construction standards. The white building stands out absurdly in its secluded forest location.

Robots roam around, tacking and bolting steel plates to one another. Prototypes of deadly weapons are hung on the walls as they walk behind a seductive lady to what they presume is the reception. Their stuff, along with themselves, go through metal detectors - something they had only heard of until now - before making their way to a large office.

“Good evening, boy.” There’s a thick accent to the greeting, one that both can easily distinguish. “I hope we haven’t given you too much trouble.”

“Not at all, um...” Bucky begins, words failing him as he’s still processing the amount of discoveries they are about to do. He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m Dr. Erskine. Responsible of the Biological Enhancement department here at Stark Industries. This here is Lady Carter, she’ll be assisting you on your journey.” The voluptuous woman nods their way and it has them both swallowing hard. She has a confidence they had never witnessed, and it has them nearly humiliating themselves.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve manages to say as he struggles to gain composure. He hopes she doesn’t notice him drying his palms on the back of his pants.

“Likewise,” she says. Her British accent runs a shiver up Bucky’s spine.

“Now, we wouldn’t want to keep you up too late. If you please follow Miss Carter to your assigned pod. We’ll go through the logistics in the morning.” The German man hands them a pair of overalls; nothing flattering, Bucky thinks.

*

It takes only three weeks for the boys to be fully independent, allowing them to be part of the first team to launch the program. Their uniforms along with their tools and weapons get a significant upgrade. They’re already anticipating the look of their new quarters.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Steve mentions.

“Really? After twenty-something attempts I would highly believe that you’d be given a chance,” Bucky answers with a hint of sarcasm. They both laugh until a voice requests them to be at the main quarter in the next ten minutes.

The spaceship is a hundred feet tall or so, its body is quite narrow and it feels pretty sturdy. They gulp nonetheless, this would be for real and they couldn’t just drop out with a snap of their fingers. The team of eight wait by the cabin door, ably putting on their masks and equipment.

“This is it!” Bucky shouts.

“We’ve been working so hard for this. Maybe a few years after this we’ll be able to finally see what Earth looks like from up there.” Doug, who’d been the fittest one of them until he took Bucky under his wing and made him an even bigger beast, contemplates the unimaginable. 

“Remember when just last year they presented the concept of flying cars and it failed. Seems like they were either lying to us or they made phenomenal progress since then…” Bucky remembers his astonishment after the Stark Expo; he was always a fan of progress and technology used for the good of the population. This journey would be an experiment of a life-time.

“Alright everyone settle in.” The German accent demands over the intercom. The small group walks into the ship and find their respective seats. With his wit and quick thinking, Steve was assigned board commander. Bucky was in charge of the combat tactics. It felt like, for once, their lives had meaning and it was an honour to be going through this together.

“‘Til the end of the line.” Steve captures his friend’s hand in his.

“‘Til the end of the line,” Bucky answers. They feel the ship ‘shake off the ground’, and the team howls in enthusiasm. 

Once the orbiting procedures are done, they find their way into their seperate quarters, each sharing rooms in teams of three, except for Bucky and Steve who have the room to just the two of them. They walk to the door as they chit chat. Their smiles fade when the door slides before them and they notice the size of the room.

A large window gives out to a realistic CGI galaxy. The moon roams by slowly and it’s enough to have them holding their breaths, eyes watering at the beauty. 

“Steve,” Bucky whispers. He turns to see his friend nodding at him, his lower lip bitten as he tries to hold in his emotions. “This wouldn’t have happened without your stubborn little head.” 

“You deserve this as much as I do Buck.” They turn around and freeze at the sight of the one king sized bed that sits right in the middle of the room. Around it is a flowy drape they can pull closed - something to keep the sun out as it never sets, they think. At the corner of his eyes, Steve can see Bucky blush. His body shivers, his numerous dreams coming to his mind again.

“Is, um. Is that okay with you?” He asks.

“Yeah. Yeah it’s fine Stevie.” He walks over and sets his bag on a small bench. They begin to set their things in the abundant storage space. Neither of them talk for the next couple of minutes, too shy, perhaps. Too caught in their own fantasies to acknowledge their separate peaks at the one bed as they eyeball the distance that will be left between them.

“I’m exhausted. I’ll hit the showers and be right back.” Bucky is first to say, a foot already out the door.

Steve sheds his clothes, leaving only his briefs on. The sheets are the softest thing he’s ever touched. Everything is plushy and so welcoming. There’s Bucky’s sweatshirt on the left side pillow; he’s tempted to take it and wear it, knowing he’s always cold at night. But he only pulls it close and brings it to his face, feeling the material on his heating cheeks, inhaling the masculinity of his best friend. It’s inevitable he’s growing hard at the thought of being able to smell it directly from his neck. To have his head on his chest. 

His free hand reaches under the band of his briefs, tentatively groping himself to try and relieve some tension. He loses himself in it though, and starts moving and twisting his hand faster. He’s staining his underwear but he doesn’t care. He knows Bucky’s hand would feel much better, much more unforgiving. There’s a pinch in his gut at the thought of teaching him all his sweet spots - or worse even, letting him discover them as he becomes a panting mess on this very bed. 

“Shit,” he whimpers into the balled up sweater. His hips find a slow rhythm to go along his hand movements. His dick is out of its hiding spot by now; he’s big for his frame and he needs the extra room to pump harder. The door opens but he’s too lost to notice. There’s another muffled moan before he hears someone clear their throat.

“Steve, I-”

“Fuck! I’m sorry.” No no no! he thinks. “Buck I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine Rogers, just... Maybe finish in the bathroom?” He suggests with an uncomfortable smile. He’s scratching his scalp, looking anywhere around the room but the bed. When Steve doesn’t budge, he allows himself to look down. His friend had simply pulled the cover over his head, and he knows Steve is cursing himself for being careless.

“You can keep the hoodie, if you’re cold.” Steve nods no and doesn’t move. “Alright,” he adds before shuffling into his spot. He’s careful to stay along the edge of the bed, enough not to fall off but granting his friend personal space. He closes his eyes and tries to let his mind wander into sleep. It’s no use now that he’s seen his pal touching himself like that. Not that he’d never imagined it - he was much smaller in his mind though. He didn’t sound as heavenly either. Bucky had caught Steve jerking off already, their apartment being quite small for two people, but it was always discreet and he mostly had to spy on him to see anything.

The more he thinks about it, the more each scenario comes out clear. Steve had touched himself whenever they had been close, like when they got back home from the drive-in, or if Bucky walked around shirtless after a rather intense training. Steve had touched himself every time he felt bothered with Bucky’s presence, and fuck if that wasn’t something he’d dreamed about.

He inhales deeply before shifting to face Steve. His hand slowly lifts and comes to rest on his friend’s shoulder, which surprisingly relaxes under his touch rather than tense up. 

“Bucky, it’s late. I’m sorry, okay?” It’s a half plead, half demand as the physical effects of his actions still haven’t dissipated. Bucky knows from the speed of his heart when his Stevie is nervous of agitated. Or in this case aroused.

“No. I’m sorry Steve.” Without turning completely, Steve gives him more of his attention. His silence is enough to note his questioning. “I should’ve realised before.”

“Wh-what do you mean, Buck?”

He answers with his body rather than try to explain his thoughts out loud; Bucky could be the clumsiest person when his mind got hazy. His hand moves to Steve’s chest, and in a swift pull he brings him closer. Close enough to kiss along his shoulder, then up his neck, until his nose tickles the base of his scalp.

“Buck,” Steve shivers.

“Let me. Please Stevie,” he says, his breath warm on the poor boy’s frigid body. When he doesn’t feel a protest, he lowers his hand onto his stomach, takes extra time just under his navel before he ventures under the waistband of his briefs. He’s perfectly hard under his touch, it takes a longer stroke than he anticipated before his thumb can reach the soaked tip. Steve hums deep in his throat. Bucky’s hip jerks forward in response. He’s already a mess and he’s only been touching him for a few seconds.

“Yes,” Steve whimpers. It earns him a soft bite to the shoulder; tender action meant to stifle a moan. “Bucky, don’t hold back.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear this,” he answers.

He’s got Steve on his stomach as soon as he’s done answering, a low grunt escapes his lips when he kneels over Steve’s legs, admiring the boy’s slender body. He snakes his hands over his shoulders, over his arms. He feels every inch of his skin as if he’d seen it for the first time. It feels new, strange even, to be able to give his pal what he’d always dreamed of; but it’s the best sentiment he’s ever experienced. From the soft moans he can pull from Steve, Bucky knows he’s enjoying this as well. Once the muscles under his touch have gone slack, he proceeds lower, kissing the trail he makes in the valley of his back. Steve jerks his hips up slightly when Bucky’s thumbs come to rest over his back dimples. He’s longing for what’s next; for the frightening act of intimacy.

“Bucky, you don’t-” He’s cut short in his suggestion by the inevitable. He moans Bucky’s name over and over every time his tongue flattens over his puckered hole. Bucky’s at work like a hungry man who’s just discovered the sweetest fruit. He licks and sucks and pokes intently at the flustered mess of man underneath him; and /he’s/ already done for. He’s rock hard in his own boxers at the way he can get Steve to squirm. 

“Ja-james! Ah!” Steve’s got both hands fisting the sheet and his face flat into his pillow. He moves his hips along with the tactful intrusions. There’s a sticky mess already glueing his stomach to the mattress but he doesn’t care. If anything it allows for the lack of friction on his aching dick. “More. Please,” he pants.

He can hear Bucky spit but his rear is already too worn out from the previous actions to feel a thing. There’s a light poke, then a sting as Bucky’s slowly inching two fingers into him. 

“So fucking tight, Stevie. God… You’re going to ruin my cock, aren’t ya?” His words send shivers up their bodies. 

“All yours Buck,” Steve adds before choking on his words when he feels a third finger joining the others. “Always been yours.” With that said, Steve stretches back as best he can and brings a hand to the brunette’s hair. He plays with the curls, eyes fixed on the icy blues and his stomach tightens when Bucky leans into the touch. He moves his hand to his chin and pulls him up so their eyes are leveled.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” Bucky asks and regrets the way he phrased that.

“I can ta-”

“No, punk.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s not about bullies anymore Stevie. I want you to feel wanted. Desired. It always pissed me off to see how the ladies treated you. They don’t know what they’re missing.” There’s a moment of silence while Steve turns around and sits straighter. His brows furrow but he doesn’t argue.

“Bucky, it’s fine. Those girls didn’t really have anything going for me, anyway.”

“So… Will you?” He’s still not looking at Steve. Afraid that maybe this was all he could allow himself to take. He ruined his chance, he thinks. But then Steve’s thumb comes to his chin and he’s forced to look up. The pretty blond is all smiles; the sweet pink on his cheeks warms Bucky’s heart. Steve dives in and crashes his lips to his friend’s. His boyfriend? Lover? He isn’t sure yet but that doesn’t matter for the night. 

“Would that include letting me come before the morning?” There’s a gasp coming from Bucky as the question comes out, but he smiles and nods stupidly at Steve’s confidence. He pounces on him, their lips meeting again in a heated kiss. 

“Only if it’s while I’m fucking that prefect little ass,” he taunts.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Steve answers.

The following nights are spent identically. Several years of hidden feelings are finally being rewarded and the boys know exactly how to make up for lost time. Most of their breaks are spent in their room, in the sauna or in the private lounge each team gets to share alternatively. Between trainings and meals, before, during and after showers. It’s an insatiable feeling to be wanted and taken care of, which never came easily to Steve until the very moment Bucky had his face between his hands and seemed to dwell into his eyes. Everything went on so quickly. Too quickly, perhaps, for Bucky soon found himself feeling guilty. Dirty. To be filling his needs with his favourite boy, while he knows he’s building a really fragile castle around them. To be imagining a life of happiness that had no place to be. Amongst the group, none seem to have caught up on their shenanigans. They were safe. Safe in the confines of this ship until the mission was over and they’d have to go back to being best buddies; friends since playground. It’s a thought that has Bucky’s stomach churning. He’d been glued to bed with a pounding headache for two days, and a raging boner he kept denying Steve. This has to stop, he thinks.

The curtains rush open, startling him out of sleep. Through the bright, manipulated daylight he sees Steve’s silhouette standing in front of their window. 

“What’s up, Stevie?” His voice barely makes it out of him.

“I could ask you the same,” Steve accuses right away. He can hear Bucky fall back into his pillow and grunt.

“Care to explain…”

“You’re unbelievable.” He paces, his hands on his hips. “What’s so hard for you to accept? I thought you realised that we had been hiding these mutual feelings. I thought you were on my side, Buck. You haven’t touched me, haven’t even looked at me in the eyes for a week…”

The anguish in his voice has Bucky up on his feet in a second - he’s ready to lay down his point of view but Steve retorts faster.

“Look around! We’re in a fucking ship that’s meant to be in space, man.” His finger taps the glass behind him. “Everything around us is astonishing progress.”

“Yeah, simulated,” Bucky says.

“But progress nonetheless. Forget what people think. Gosh I wish this thing could take us to the future. Maybe things would have changed…” Bucky takes a step closer and he’s ready to fold. He wants Steve in his arms. Wants to keep his word and hold him tight. He reaches his arms out but quickly retracts when a sharp object flies over his upper arm.

“What the-”

There’s a rush of wind that sends a dozen more pieces their way. The back wall of their room is fractured, smoke coming in from the adjacent room, followed by a muffled scream. The strident screeching of metal makes it hard to focus. Alarms have gone off and an external team is running around, trying to find everyone.

It suddenly becomes hard to breathe but the medics have surged to rescue the guys who were stuck behind the flames. When Bucky turns around to grab onto Steve, he finds him lying on the ground, hands clenching his stomach and he swears that even through all the back-alley fights he’s never seen Steve’s face so contorted. A piece of steel bigger than his hand pokes out of a gash just under his left rib. Bucky knows not to pull it from him. He’d seen the consequences first hand on the field. 

“Don’t move, don’t move.” He’s got a hand on his shoulder and the other beneath his head. There’s a glance around his body before he’s sure he can lift him up. Luckily, Steve’s about half the size of the guys Bucky had to carry in boot camp. He makes sure to keep the wound close to himself, and he heads towards the nearest door, the floor plan of the ship something he knows like the back of his hand.

“I got you Stevie,” Bucky says when he hears him weep.

**

Bucky’s fidgeting on the chair around the corner of two narrow hallways. His arm still burns from the alcohol-drenched bandage someone put on him while he was passed out. He turns to the one on his right. It’s bright from all the fluorescents and much too lifeless to his liking. The same nurse keeps shuffling through the different doors with a pad in hands. His head is about to explode from all the beeping of the life support machines and the aftermath of inhaling so much smoke. Someone at the end of the hall in front of him keeps coughing and Bucky’s throat is suddenly tingling. He’s a moment away from bolting up from his seat when Peggy walks out of the room.

“Barnes.” She has an apologetic look, but she offers a sweet smile. “He’d like to see you.”

There’s a blink before he can react, before blood goes back into his legs and he can head towards her. She reaches for his arm and guides him over, stopping just before the curtain around the bed.

“Now,” she begins. “We’ve had to um… They did someth-”

“He’s fine?” He practically screams.

“Yes. Yes James he is fine.” She takes a step back and stretches her arm to direct him forward. He takes a deep breath, flattens his shirt over himself as a habit and nervously pulls onto the edge of the curtain.

His heart skips a beat when he lays eyes on him. He recognizes the flowy blond hair; he wants to run his hand through it. But he’s taken aback when he gets closer. The under shirt they put on him is about to burst from the width of his shoulders. His jaw, man, his jaw is square and strong, just like the rest of him. He scans him up. Once. Twice. He thinks it’s the illusion of Steve being laid down, but he knows he’s gotten taller. Before he can wonder further a hand comes to his shoulder.

“Stark. What happened?” He asks, not taking his eyes off his friend.

“The infection spread like wildfire. His frail disposition made it impossible for him to surpass this. He needed a little...boost...if I can say so.”

“Well, a boost he got!” Bucky answers a tad enthusiastically. He sees Peggy smirk and his cheeks heat up. “Sorry,” he mouths.

“Yes. Well. We had this experimental serum going around for a while. A project run by Dr. Erskine. It was meant to help soldiers heal faster. Make their ability to bulk up easier. Let’s say we might have dosed up a little on him.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Peggy joins in.

“Did it... hurt?” There’s a new concern in Bucky’s voice. The same gut wrenching feeling he had whenever he found Steve beat up to the ground. He closes his eyes to keep the imminent tears from spilling out. 

“Did it like a champ,” comes Steve’s voice next.

**

“Steve, listen,” Bucky begins as they walk into their apartment, bags of groceries in arms - the first one since they’ve been back from the mission. He’s walking behind him, still astounded by the two inches Steve has won. Their elbows bump as they walk around in the kitchen - they’ve yet to adjust to the two of them taking a lot of space; the conversation of them moving out into a new place was impending. 

“Bucky, stop. I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” He means it, but Steve continues to set the things away without looking at him.

“I got caught off guard, Stevie. The lady asked the question but the tone in her voice made me uncomfortable. I should have s-”

“Yes. You should have said we were together. But it’s fine,” he adds. Bucky steps up and grabs one of the blonde’s hands. He brings it to his chest, over his heart, and his eyes begin to water when they get lost in his. There’s a synched deep breath before Bucky composes himself.

“I’m sorry.” Steve’s shoulders loosen at the small admission - he watches as Bucky kisses his fingers one by one before leaning into him. His lips come to his neck and Steve can’t help but shiver. The serum surely had enhanced everything.

“Why is it still so hard for you to acknowledge this,” Steve says as he rubs Bucky’s back. “Every time you say ‘friend’ my stomach flinches.” 

“Strict family. It’s been coded into me when I was young. Every time I would hang out with you I’d get deathly stares at the dinner table.” Steve hugs him tighter. Bucky had never mentioned this before. Never said a word about being roughed around as a kid. He feels guilty. A feeling of remorse stikes through him as he recalls the numerous times he asked Bucky to pose for his sketches. Or when he needed a hand climbing somewhere and Bucky would hold onto him /just that way/. He didn’t know that his father was overlooking their every move from his office window. Didn’t know that his own mother was being lectured about their behavior.

“Plus, I still look at you and kind of freak out that I don’t have my little Stevie anymore. But you know… I’m really looking forward to what /this/ Steve can do.” He takes a step back to better look at him. His hands are on his hard chest, making their way onto his shoulders and he can feel Steve relax under his touch. One hand moves up to his nape before settling onto the side of his face; the other has made its way south, tracing every muscle on the way down. 

“How about you knock some sense into me?” Bucky taunts, eyes dark and glimmery. It takes Steve out of his thought - pulls him out quite harshly in fact - but he lets the brunette palm him through the thick fabric of his chinos. 

“But, Buck. We always-”

“I know. But I want to, baby. At least once…” There’s a soft whine along Bucky’s words and Steve melts into his embrace. Their lips stand close, waiting patiently for the right opportunity; though Bucky’s hand has made its way past Steve’s zipper by now. “For once, Stevie...please fuck me.”

It’s beastial. The way Steve picks his lover like he’s not heavier than a pillow. How he has him pinned to the wall by their room - they had finally started sleeping in the same bed, and eventually turned the spare room into a small art studio.

It takes a minute for Bucky’s hand to land onto the door handle, and another second for his mind to command it to turn it open. Steve’s grunt follows when it finally pries wide, allowing them to adventure further. Three steps later, Bucky finds himself thrown onto the stiff mattress, shirt gone missing while strong hands are already working at the button of his pants.

“Don’t break anything, Rogers.” He lifts himself onto his elbows to look down at the brusque man between his legs.

“The only thing I might be breaking is the bed,” he begins, his words muffled as he bites down on his tongue in concentration. He looks up at the headboard. Surely this was the first time they’d be intimate since ‘the change’. It most likely frightens Bucky more than it does Steve. A grin autographs his next words. “We need a new one anyway.” And with that he hooks his fingers into the waistband of both Bucky’s pants and underwear, and glides them off his thighs.

“Always so fucking hard for me,” Steve growls. “No wonder, you had /me/ on my back like that. I could get used to this view.”

“Don’t linger, Stevie.” Bucky’s words are low, but stern. His hips buck in agreement.

“Was I so whiny all the time?” They both chuckle before Bucky swats him on the chest.

“Only when I was balls deep in that fantastic ass,” he answers, both hands on the plump flesh he mentioned. The action causes Steve to grind into him - and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t the plan all along. Bruises would appear on his shoulders the next day with how hard Steve’s biting down on them.

“I swear to God-" The enhanced man has his prey on his stomach in a flash, barely taking a breath of effort. He reaches forward to present two fingers to Bucky who gladly coats them in a generous amount of saliva. A hum rumbles into his chest when he feels them swipe over his hole, Steve taking his turn in exploring his man. The stretch is new, although Bucky had done this to himself in the past. The sweet tickling feeling of the intrusion is brain numbing. He's not sure he’s going to last. Surely Steve’s new physique could give more than he bargained for.

“Holy shit,” he cries when he feels the head of his dick press against him. They both moan when Steve inches into him with ease until his hips meet with Bucky’s ass and he stops, giving both of them a moment to adjust.

“Never thought it would be this good,” the blond grunts, eyes shut as he focuses on not painting the walls that so tightly envelop him. He pulls out just a tad, before pushing back in and establishing a smooth rhythm. Bucky contorts and mewls beneath him, his eyes go white as they roll to the back of his head.

“Like that, huh?” Steve asks. “I sure as hell fucking like it.”

Bucky can only make faint noises. Steves and ahs and what not escape his lips in the smoothest symphony Steve has ever heard. He’s fucking him relentless, unsure of how he can even get his hips to move this way as he never found himself in this exact position. But he’s going. And going. And he’s loving every moment, so much so that he’s not sure he can ever go back to the old ways. Inevitably him or Bucky would succumb. Both giving and receiving felt amazing, but he’d always be James’ little Stevie.

“You take me so well, fuck,” he adds.

“Ste-eve.”

“I know. Poor little face is all red and hot. You’re so close, love.” The praise comes naturally from Steve, but it seems to have Bucky blushing even more. He bends down and snakes an arm under Bucky so his hand can come around and hook onto his neck. His right knee spreads his legs even further, allowing him to bottom down into him; the head of his cock nudges that sweet spot and as if the words weren’t enough, it has Bucky pulsing and making a mess on the bed.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He exclaims as he empties himself completely while Steve still pounds into him. He reaches back and grabs his lover by the head to bring him in for a heated kiss. A moment later it’s Steve’s turn to fall over the edge. He groans and shakes as he gives three more thrusts before pulling out and letting his seed splatter over the spent brunette’s back. Hot spurts reach up to his shoulders and onto his cheek. Steve is quick to lean forward and lick him clean.

“So good,” he says.

“Stevie, that’s your own cum,” Bucky replies with a shy smile. Who’d have thought Steven Rogers would be the kinky one.

“Mmm. And?”

“And… I want some.” They both chuckle before Bucky can grab onto the man’s broad shoulders and fetch what he wanted.