#whatever. it’s fine. I’ll suffer through another day tomorrow. its fucking fine.

[taketheringtolohac]

what if I just screamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and cried!!!!!!!!

[christ0pher-evans]

Troubled Heart

Part Two of Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: Angst / Cheating / Mentions of Sex  Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Welcome to the second part of Shattered Heart!! I am so so overwhelmed with the love I received for, what initially was just a one-shot, so I thank you all so so much and send you big hugs💗 So with all your support, I’ve decided to make this a mini-series (maybe three or four parts) so I’m super excited about that! I hope you guys will be too💗 Please let me know what you think of this part!

‣  I guess part two is kind of a filler part, because spoiler alert: PART THREE IS GOING TO BE INTENSE!!! Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart

  ♡

The past 24 hours since Chris left your shared home had felt like a bad dream. 

You’d stood emotionless as you ridded your bed of its sheets and covers, mortified at how clueless you were as Chris had so casually fucked you into the mattress after cheating on you. You’d screamed and cried as your friend had text you double checking you and Chris were still on for your double date tomorrow. You’d buried yourself under the covers in the spare bedroom once you had text Chris telling him you needed a couple of weeks apart to figure out what you wanted, too shaken to call him. You’d cried yourself to sleep when Chris had replied telling you that he would support whatever your decision was.

Knowing Chris would never be disrespectful about your feelings or choices moving forward was reassuring but part of you wished he fought a bit harder for you. Your skepticism was playing devil’s advocate and awakening stupid thoughts. Was it an easy way out? Did he not want to fight for your marriage? 

Scott had guaranteed you that it was because he cared about you so much and couldn’t bare the thought of upsetting you anymore than he already had. It’s a bit too late for that, you thought. 

Nevertheless, you appreciated that he was giving you space. You had left the house for the day when Chris came back to pack up some clothes to take to Scott’s, where he was staying. Terrified at the thought of seeing him, you couldn’t understand if it was because you were angry at him or because if you were there, you wouldn’t want him to leave again.

In the two weeks of space you had asked for, your mind was in turmoil. 

Putting on a brave face for eight hours a day in the office was easy, pretending that nothing was wrong between Chris and yourself had become second nature in the past year. Coming home was a different story; an empty house and an empty bed was undeniable proof that your marriage had possibly life-altering problems. That was the hard part. You wanted to be strong, but reality proved that you were lost without Chris; he was your best friend, your sweetheart and your evermore.

Enduring time alone at home where your mind could wander was the heart-wrenching task. As if your heart wasn’t already shattered, you tortured yourself with replaying all the details from Chris’ rendezvous with another woman, the conversation you had the morning he had confessed and the evening he left; splintering your heart into unfathomable pieces. You were so angry and so upset, that in those moments, you wondered if you could ever forgive him, ever be with him again. 

Most days, you felt numb. Some days, things felt marginally normal. You’d meet Scott for a coffee, chatting about anything other than Chris, walking and talking till you cracked a light smile. Coming home, there would be a bunch of your favourite flowers on the doorstep, a note simply saying I love you. One day, you had received a donut delivery from your favourite bakery down the street, something only Chris knew about you. Small traces of significance that displayed Chris making an effort, showing that he loves you, wants you, is fighting for you; fighting for a second chance. 

At the end of your time apart, you had just arrived home from a tough week at work. You were exhausted and were desperate to just eat and sleep away your suffering. Slumping down onto the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, you shed a single tear as you realised you’d instinctively ordered your chinese takeaway as if Chris was home with you. As if he was sat right next to you on the sofa, moaning about the rom-com you'd started playing on Netflix, moaning that he was bored till he had enough and made love to you on the sofa. You could hear his voice as he whispered how much he loved you, how good you made him feel. 

A shudder coursed through your body as you reminisced, as you remembered how perfect your marriage could be. Two whole weeks you had spent trying to force those memories out your mind, preoccupied yourself something stupid to forget him, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Your mind bitter at the pain Chris caused you but your heart ached for him; his voice, his kiss, his touch, his love. 

As you sat in the kitchen the next morning, picking at the leftover chinese and looking at the almost dead flowers that had been delivered the week before, you realised how much you missed him. You knew that everything felt different without him around but you were too rage blind to see what was right in front of you; Chris fighting for your relationship whilst you just basked in your misery.

And that, for the first time in two weeks, was why you decided to pick up the phone and ring him. He answered after only one ring. 

“Sweetheart.. Hi.” Your heart swelled at this voice, progress from the fact it made you shudder two weeks ago. 

“Chris. Um, sorry if I caught you at a bad time?” 

“Sweetheart, there is no bad time for you to call me. You’re my wife, I’ll always answer.”

“Okay, well, uh..”, you were so nervous, fiddling with your wedding band, “I was wondering if you would come round so we could talk?” You didn’t miss the hitch in his throat. You knew you had to be clear that you were not inviting him back to move home, but just to come round for a chat.

“Yeah, if that is what you want? I can come round right now if you'd like?" 

"Oh, um yeah, I guess that'd be okay?” Initially you thought you needed time to plan what you were going to say but maybe it was better that Chris came round now before you chickened out. Chris could clearly hear the uncertainty in your voice. 

“It doesn’t have to be now if you don’t want?” 

“No, sorry that’s fine. I just assumed you’d be busy.” What you didn’t know was that Chris hadn’t been at work since you had asked him for space two weeks ago, just sitting at Scott’s, waiting for your call. 

“Okay sweetheart, I won’t be long”, he hesitated before continuing, “I love you.”

You couldn’t say it back, not until you knew where you stood, not until you knew what you wanted to do about your marriage. 

“I know you do Chris.” 

 ♡ Part Three: Bewildered Heart

Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work] 

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH5

one // two // three // four

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, cheating, mentions of the war, desc. of torture, pain, drinking, aftercare.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // flashbacks in italics - Hopefully this chapter gives an insight into why George is so protective over his girl, but also why Y/N is the way she is around him. 

There were two times you'd reserved yourself the ability to let loose and have a break, The first was after a big Game, where being absolutely hungover wasn't a problem the next day, or after a big product launch. Fred and George were two men who liked to party hard. Fred loved getting smashed among friends, participating in drinking games and nearly causing a full on riot - a drink to get drunk kind of man. George on the other hand, took a lot to get drunk, he would be waved most of the night and then sober by the time he was home, The one thing however about your boyfriend was that he got handsy and possessive, something that drove you absolutely crazy for him. 

You'd been clubbing in muggle London with George multiple times, using the night as a distraction from the wizarding word, taking a cab home to either his place or yours - more often than not passing out cuddling each other in impossible positions. It was the best rest George got, he was always confused when he woke up to the sunrise or birds chirping, finding relief in him sleeping through the night. 

George's poor sleeping habits were there before the war, however the looming death and the horrible events he suffered seemed to replay in his mind whenever he neared a state of rest. 

// 

The blast in front of him was unlike anything George had seen before with his own two eyes. Through the rubble and dust he saw you hunched over on the ground, coughing up the debris from your lungs. He was silently thanking whatever god that was out there, if there even was one, that he was here in this moment. He knelt down next to you, hand rubbing circles on your back soothingly.

“Baby, it’s ok, I’m here.” When you heard his voice you flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the state of your lungs as you held him. He was safe. 

“Let’s get you to the great hall, you can’t be running around out here like this.” You shook your head, cupping his cheeks with your hands and pressing a firm kiss to his lips, like it could be the last time you’d ever kiss him. You both ignored the metallic taste of blood and dust coating one another as you committed this moment to memory, If people caught you here, in each other’s arms, why would It matter? Secrecy was the last thought on your mind as you pressed your forehead against his. 

“I need to fight, we need to fight, George.” You were standing up, still holding onto him, you were vulnerable like this, you kissed him once more, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “Forever, I promise.” you smiled, pulling him in for another hug. “I love you.” he squeezed you tighter as a response. Before you knew it you were bending down to collect your fallen wand,  running off in opposite directions. 

You were being backed into a corner, slowly but surely. You’d resolved that this was the end. You weren’t sure who you were fighting until they were too close for comfort. Maria Bishop. When her hand touched your arm you were whisked away to another location. Once there you were violently shoved to your knees, winded still by the apparition.

“I always valued the Y/L/N family, you know,” She started, wand pointed at your head, Maria was known by others as ‘The Bishop’ you assumed because she was one of the Dark Lord’s prominent agents, finding and killing muggle-borns and blood-traitors alike, much like the bishop in chess eliminates their enemy. 

“Such a shame you’re not like your mother and father, you would have made a beautiful pureblood wife.” she was laughing as she squatted down in front of you. 

“Where Is Harry Potter?” she asked bitterly. Every inch of your skin was shaking with fear, you had no information, but it’s not like that mattered. “I- I don’t know, none of us have seen him in months.”

She didn’t like that, you didn’t even have time to think or apologise before you heard the word ‘crucio’ fall from her lips with ease. 

The excruciating pain ran through your body, you fell to the ground, writhing as a blood-curdling scream was ripped through your vocal chords. You couldn’t do anything but scream over and over, it felt like your skin was being torn from its muscle and like scraping across all of your bones. She kept demanding, over and over for you to give her information but there was nothing to let out. You couldn’t even picture what Harry looked like, the only thing that ran through your mind was relentless agony. 

You knew you wanted this to be over the minute it started, the pain crept up from your toes to your hips, over your chest and arms until finally it was at your throat. You felt like you were choking, you wanted all of the air to escape your lungs in the hope that the pain would end, but it never did. With every scream she laughed at you, watching as you writhed in pain like it was a comedy, she tried to overpower your shrieks with laughter.  

You suddenly felt all weight lift off of you as the curse faded. Every limb was weak, time was no longer a concept to you, it felt like a lifetime of agony only repressed by a moment of solace, your hand was on your wand and before you could think, you were raising it and muttering the incantation of what you knew you shouldn’t. Her eyes widened, a flash of blinding green light filling her eyes, accompanied by a rushing sound, as if an invisible something was whipping through the air - within an instant she rolled over onto her back, unmistakably dead. The Bishop was down.

//

By 11:30 you were already half gone, If anyone asked, you were most definitely sober, but if the way you were swaying as you stood or your slightly misplaced steps weren’t telling enough, your tipsy giggles sure were. You’d been drinking down gigglewater like there was no tomorrow, making sure that you were well and truly off your face drunk. It felt like most, If not all of Diagon alleys’ daytime bustle had moved into the underground club below Olivanders. The walls were a dark, dusky brown, a perfect backdrop for the flashing lights and strobes. Music was pumping through your veins with every step as you pushed through the sea of people with a drink in hand, you found the corridor, taking a moment to breathe as you sipped on the bitter liquid. 

Moments later you found yourself trapped between a pair of strong arms and the thick cushioned wall, you hadn’t even second guessed the man whose lips were on yours. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him in for a desperate, needy kiss. He was humming against you as his thigh found its way between your legs, letting you grind down against it. The man’s tongue was grazing against your lip, begging for entry - you didn’t even think of rejecting it because the touch felt so familiar. For four, maybe five minutes you were standing making out. You had to admit it felt good, of course it felt good, it was George. You pulled away, gasping for air but also getting a minute to look into his eyes, almost immediately you feel a loss of contact, as the body pressed against yours was stripped from by your side, causing a gentle whine to fall from your lips.

It was only when you blinked a few times that the fogginess of your vision truly got to you as you thought you were seeing double. You continued blinking, hoping the two would form to one, but instead you had stumbled backwards, now leaning on the wall for support. 

George had Fred by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from you, his eyes like daggers as he scowled at his brother. “You can’t use her like that when she’s drunk.” Fred scoffs, the back of his hand coming up to wipe away the saliva that coated his lips, the smirk however was undeterred by the action. “You better wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Fred.” 

The older twin was rolling his eyes, attempting to push past George to finish what he started, however, George’s hand pushed against his brother’s chest pinning him to the wall. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, shoving George away from him by both shoulders, “Fred, take one look at her, and tell me you're comfortable doing that to her… Merlin, she can hardly stand, don’t be that guy.” 

George was pleading his brother at this point, Fred sighed as he eyed you, taking in every characteristic of your demeanour - you were half asleep, leaning against the wall. He watched you try to wake yourself up and push your body away from the wall only to come crashing right back against it.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so protective all of a sudden… I’ll take her home.” Fred sighed, his hands rubbing over his face in an attempt to sober himself up. 

“Fred, wait- I’ll do it.” his twin cocked an eyebrow at him, “I’m sober, it’s fine, you can’t apperate her she’ll be throwing up everywhere.” Fred nodded, giving George a pat on the shoulder as he walked away, “Thanks, Georgie.” 

Your boyfriend's once angry eyes were softening as he looked at you, full of sadness as he watched you struggle. All he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms, and protect you, muttering under his breath, as he walked over to you, ‘let’s get you home then, angel.’ 

“Y/N, my love, it’s George, I’m gonna take you home, alright?” George was speaking so softly that you immediately felt at home. You nodded quickly, falling into the familiar pair of arms that were now holding you, giving you the anchor to finally walk again.

George led you out of the club and walked slowly with you as you stumbled step by step all the way down the quiet diagon alley. He got you into a cab as you both stumbled out of the leaky cauldron, the horns and chatter of London beaming around, it truly was a city that never slept. He had his arm wrapped around you protectively as you cuddled into his side, the sound of his beating heart slowly brought your racing thoughts down to earth. The way you were curled up against him reminded him of a moment from the war he’d never forget.

//

Your fingers trembled and shook so much that you could no longer control the grip of your wand. It truly sunk in that what you had done was unforgivable. You’d taken someone’s life. You rationalised with yourself that you had done it for your own good, to protect others, the ones you loved and cared for, but more importantly to protect yourself. You quickly pushed away from the body, crawling backwards until your back hit the wall, it had finally sunk in exactly what you'd done and you couldn't even bear to be with yourself as you buried your head between your knees, as silent sobs choked from your lips. 

George found you like this, he had been searching worriedly for hours. It was pure vulnerability, he saw the body of the Bishop lying on her back, your wand discarded and you huddled into a ball. He didn’t know what to do or how to protect you, he reached out to touch your arm but you recoiled at his touch, pulling your knees tighter to your chest.

“Baby, It’s me.” he murmured softly, his voice cracking as he pushed out a whisper, outstretching his hand for you to take when you were ready. “We need to move you, It’s not safe here.” You took his hand, letting him whisk you away to a safer place, but you knew in your heart there was nowhere safer but his arms. 

//

George carried you up the stairs to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed, kneeling on the floor as he unlaced your boots, pulling each one off gently as his hand massaged your foot. When he looked up at you, you were no longer sat upright, instead having fallen back against the sheets as you began to try and remove your own clothes, doing so in a piss poor way. 

He shook his head, smiling to himself as you grumbled at your own misfortune, his hands gripped your arms, pulling your wrists to his lips, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to the inside of each one. He slowly and cautiously helped you in removing your clothing, making sure to grab an old tee of his to cover you with when you sat naked on his bed. 

He left to go and grab you a glass of water, as well as some painkillers for the morning. Finding you curled up on top of the sheets while shivering from the cold chill of the room. He chuckled once again, popping the items on the bedside table so that he could sit you up. 

"Can we drink some water please, Princess?" you furrowed your brows, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. His large, warm hand was cupping your cheek softly, as he used his other to retrieve the glass of water, "I'll help you, now open up for me, that's a good girl."

His thumb coaxed your lips open, pressing the cold glass against your bottom lip as he gently fed you the clear liquid, you were gulping it down like you were wholeheartedly parched, he smiled at you when you'd finished, placing the glass on the bedside table again. 

"Well done, beautiful, now let's get you under these covers, that ought to stop those shivers, hm?" Your hands wrapped around his neck as he lifted you up off of the bed, you stood, holding onto him as he flipped the duvet corners open, lifting you up so he could lay you down against the mattress. 

He tried to pull your arms from his neck, but you only held on tighter, keeping him pulled close to you as a pout hung on your lips, whining as he tried to pull away from you. "Cuddle me."

He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tucked you in gently, the covers wrapping you up nice and warm. "I'll be joining you soon darling but I can't cuddle you like this, I'll crush you if i lay on top of you now," he laughed, the low hum reverberating in your chest as you smiled at him with a doe eyed expression plastered to your face. 

He stripped his jacked off, changing into some more comfortable clothing so that he could join you in bed. As soon as he sat on the mattress, your head was in his lap, he smiled at the sight, his heart warming as your arms wrapped around his thigh, cuddling into him. 

He felt your shoulders begin to shake, looking down at you he saw the salty tears running down your cheeks as you tried to hold back your sobs. The reality of what happened in the hall of the club was hitting you, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach at the prospect that you had been making out with his twin, all the while believing it was George. "I'm so sorry, Georgie, I don't deserve you, I fucked up and I'm sorry, I just- I thought he was you and I was kissing him back and-" 

George had cut you off by pressing a finger to your lips with a gentle shushing sound, his fingertips massaging your scalp as he played with your hair ."You don't need to apologise for a thing, Princess."

The feeling of his hand as he gently dragged his fingers through your hair was lulling you to sleep, you sighed contently, your heart beating faster as you began to hear the gentle soothing sounds of his humming, a sweet and soothing melody that made you feel like you were in heaven. 

To him you looked like an angel when you slept, his heart resting easy at the sight of you painless, careless and content in the arms and presence of the man she loved so dear. She was like his own little slice of heaven, for him to enjoy on earth, always feeling like the damned luckiest man in the world to wake up to the sight of you. 

You awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs hitting your senses, groaning you reached over and took the two pain relief, washing it down with some water from the night before. You were dragging your feet along the floor as you sought the arms of your boyfriend, you found him in the kitchen plating up some food. You immediately fell to his side, arms wrapping around him as you groaned, the power of your headache hitting you. 

"Eat up, my Love, You'll feel so much better after." George had prepared you a delicious greasy fry up, knowing it was one of your favourite things to wake up to, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as his hand found the small of your back, "Thank you George, smells amazing as always." 

He smiled, taking the two plates to the dining table, where cutlery and orange juice already lay. You felt spoilt by the man you loved as you wolfed down the food. George made the best breakfasts around, aside from Molly, of course, each component cooked with the special ingredient of never-ending love, making it that much more tasty. 

You were the luckiest girl alive, looking into his eyes, he smiled at you, making you melt, even after all these years. George was everything you needed and more, you were sick of hiding him and he was just as sick of hiding you. Your Protector, Your Lover, His angel.

>>>>> Chapter Six

taglist //  @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn @pigwidgexn@mrmoonyy @mackaywhore @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana  @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001

[tedesquire]

Hi! Could I please add another request to my list? :D it's based off a Hey Arnold episode in which Bill and the reader are on a week long school vacation and they run into each other at the beach and Bill develops a crush on a pretty girl who befriends him but the reader finds out the girl's only using Bill to win a sandcastle contest in order to be on the show Baywatch. The reader tries to tell Bill but he won't listen and he eventually overhears the girl talking with her boyfriend and tells her off only to win the contest with the reader and they confess their feelings? 💕💕

Summer Lovin’ 

Words: 2554

Warnings: cursing, female pronouns (but no genitalia mentioned and no skin color specified) a bit of angst (fluffy ending though)

Author’s Note: first of all, I fucking love Hey, Arnold! and definitely love Helga G. Pataki with all my heart. She’s a weirdo and I love it. I knew exactly what episode you were talking about. I can't believe you got me to write 13 pages of fanfic for such a specific and niche fandom, but hey, I don’t do this for the fame. I do this for the little bit of serotonin my brain gets when I imagine myself in scenarios with fictional characters because real men are disappointing. (Mod Olivia)

-

You hated Bill. You hated the stupid way his stupid blonde ringlets caught the California sun, the stupid vacant look in his stupid sapphire eyes at almost all times, the stupid fucking sliver of tan skin he exposed with his crop tops that he somehow got away with at school. Not to mention you loathed the stupid fucking grin that he gave to his best friend Ted, the one that proceeded the ridiculous laugh the stupid boy had.

All these things you despised, detested, and loathed with every fiber of your being. Simple annoyances beginning since kindergarten snowballed into a big, white burning ball of hatred for the boy. Hatred that made your cheeks heat up and stomach churn, just as it was doing now.

You had been so excited for Spring Break, your family deciding to travel 5 and a half hours to a beach house in Half Moon Bay. A week of the sun, sea, shopping, seashells, boardwalks, and salt-water taffy, with no Bill to bother you.

 So, naturally, when you had reached the beach after a long day of travel, the sight of Bill sitting on the sand in nothing but a swimsuit, skin glowing with tanning oil, made your heart stutter. Okay, perhaps you didn’t hate him… despise him, detest him, or loathe him entirely. From an outside perspective… some might even say that you were… in love with him. 

Oh God, it was true. You couldn't stop thinking about Bill. He looked like he was sculpted after an angel. A prince charming on a white horse. And what he lacked in academic intelligence he more than made up for with kindness. He always treated you with the utmost respect, while you paid him back in nothing but sarcasm and insults. 

You didn’t know exactly why you were so mean to him. Perhaps it was your nerves trying to stop you from getting overeager and admitting your crush. One day you were going to have to either man up and confess your feelings or get over him but that day didn’t seem to be approaching anytime soon. 

You were intent on pretending he wasn’t here, setting up your own place to sunbathe until you heard your name fall from his lips.

“Y/n!?” Bill walked up behind you, prompting you to turn around to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“Bill.” You stated dryly, “My family and I are staying nearby.”

“No way! My family’s right over there!” He pointed at a nearby beach house, a young woman who you recognized as recently-graduated and newfound wife, Missy Preston making out with Bill’s father on the porch. Ugh.

“Yes way.” You responded dryly. “We’re over there.” You pointed over your shoulder. “Isn’t this a coincidence, my ideal vacation ruined by the one person I didn’t want to see.” You noticed a flicker of disappointment flash in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. “Don’t get any weird ideas about getting all chummy with me, trying to hang out or anything. Just because we’re staying at the same beach and all.” You scoffed, causing him to flinch.

“Uh, yeah. Fine with me, y/n.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before walking off. You eyed him, sighing softly. 

“What is the matter with me?” You mumble, setting yourself down on the sand. This would have been the perfect moment to get closer to him if only you didn’t have to open your stupid mouth.

[Bill’s POV]

As Bill walked off, he felt most confused. He could never remember what he did to make you dislike him so much, but tried to get back on your good side. Thankfully, with the sun, sand, and waves surrounding him, Bill couldn’t stay too upset for too long. 

He had decided to finally get in the water, heading towards the crashing shore when he had stepped on something.

Huh. Bill was met with the sight of a brightly colored bucket and shovel. Excellent! There was nothing more resplendent than a nice sand castle. Ted was going to be so jealous when he heard. All he was doing for the week was staying at home watching Deacon. 

Too caught up in his new activity, Bill barely noticed someone approaching him.

“That’s a stellar sandcastle you have there.” Bill’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. Growing up in California he had seen his fair share of tan beach babes, but this one took the cake. A total babe. Talking to me.... Say something, dude!

“Thanks.” Bogus. Thank God Ted wasn’t here to see him blow his shot so odiously.

She pushed her sunglasses down her nose to look over the lenses, her bright eyes meeting his. “My name’s Summer.”

“Bill S. Preston, Esquire.” He puffed up his chest, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Well, Bill S. Preston, Esquire, you seem to be a pretty great artist. That’s the best sandcastle I’ve ever seen.” His dark brows knitted in confusion, looking over her to see if she was teasing him. “I bet you’ll walk away with first prize from the sandcastle competition at the festival thing later this week.”

“Sandcastle competition?”

“Yeah! Whoever wins first place will get a guest appearance on Baywatch! But that’s not until the end of the week. How about, in the meantime, you can show me around the beach? It’s my first time visiting the bay.” Baywatch? That’s only the most triumphant show on television! Ted was going to be so jealous. 

“Sounds most excellent! However, It is also my first time visiting the bay. Perhaps… we could explore the area together?”

“I like the way you think, Bill.” She winked, sitting on the sand next to him, the pair getting comfortable.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, looking over your book to watch Bill cozying up with a stranger. Your heart twisted painfully, swallowing thickly, You had no right to be jealous, he wasn’t your boyfriend, not to mention you were cruel to him in every interaction, but that didn’t stop a bitter taste from forming on your tongue. 

You stood, collecting your things and trekking back to your beach house, the beach having lost its luster.

-

You were so over this vacation. You would have given anything to stay at home. It seemed everywhere you went, Bill and that girl seemed to be infecting the air with their infatuation. 

For the past two days you’ve had to suffer watching the pair on the beach splash each other with sea water, build sand castles, and sunbathe with each other; However, that was nothing compared to today.

You and your family had decided to spend the afternoon on the boardwalk. There you had to endure the couple on the carousel holding hands, feeding each other saltwater taffy, and watching the sunset by the wharf. Most fucking heinous. 

It was early evening, and thankfully, Bill and whatever her name was were nowhere to be seen. You didn’t know if you would vomit or cry every time Bill had given her that award-winning smile, the one you so badly wanted to be the recipient of. 

You didn’t think it could get any worse, until you had leaned against the pier, ears picking up a familiar voice, Bill’s. Your heart fluttered, only to sink back down when you realized he was still with her under the boardwalk, back on the beach. 

“Isn’t this amazing?”

“You are.” You scoffed at Bill’s attempt at flirting, ignoring the tightening of your throat.

“I’m so glad I met you.” She giggled. “I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone.” 

If it had been any other couple, you might have enjoyed such a romantic conversation. This was all your fault, if you hadn’t been such a bitch to Bill on the first day, perhaps it would have been you and him hanging out at the boardwalk. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here!” 

“Excellent!” You heard him scat in that ridiculous, high-pitched way he did with Ted when they mimicked a guitar. As he walked off, you smiled, not noticing you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek.

You were such an idiot. If only you were able to act normal for a fucking minute and effectively communicate with Bill about your feelings. You had fucked up, it was too late. 

“Hey!” You had heard her speak again, wondering if Bill had returned.

“Hey, babe.” That was definitely not Bill.

“It’s all going according to plan. I do believe Bill is falling head over heels for me.”

“Well who wouldn’t?” You rolled your eyes, angrily wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“He thinks I really like him. What a moron.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was she talking about?

“If he’s as good as you think he is, we’ll for sure win the contest and end up on Baywatch.” It only took you a second to connect all the dots. This jabroni was clearly her boyfriend, and she was only flirting with Bill to win the stupid castle contest.

You had heard enough, running back to the beach in hopes of finding Bill. 

-

Fuck, all these beach houses looked the same. If Bill hadn’t pointed out which house he was staying at you would have no idea how you would find him.

You knocked on the door, praying you remembered the right house, and that Bill would answer instead of his hormonal parents. 

“Y/n?” Thankfully Bill did answer the door, hair wet from what you assumed to be a recent shower. “How’s it...hanging?” He stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey. I’m sorry about being a dickweed earlier.” He seemed as equally surprised as you were by your apology. “Um, I guess I was just thrown off at your presence… that’s not really an excuse… anyways, the whole reason I’m here is about that girl you were with earlier.”

“Summer? What about her, dude?” Oh my gosh, of course her name was something as pretentious as Summer. 

“Well, I’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but… She’s using you. I was on the boardwalk, and I had overheard you leaving, and I guess her boyfriend came up to her.. Long story short, she’s going to try and get you to build her a sandcastle to win that festival thing at the end of the week and take the credit so they can win the roles on Baywatch.” You met his eyes, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry.” 

He stayed quiet, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“That’s heavy. I mean, I’m not stupid. You’re usually most cruel around me, and now you’re acting all...nice? I do not think I’m falling for this one.”

“You don’t believe me?” You couldn’t believe it. “I know I could be less of a bitch to you, but I’ve never lied to you in all the years I’ve known you. You just met her three days ago!”

“Y/n…” He spoke carefully. “I think you were correct when you said we shouldn’t try to hang out just because we’re staying at the same beach.” Your throat tightened, that sour taste returning to your tongue.

“Fine!” You hissed. “I don’t even know why I wasted my breath and time trying to warn you. God, I wish we had never come to this stupid fucking beach!” You ran off his porch into the sand, face burning with shame.

-

Bill couldn’t stop thinking about your interaction yesterday. He was barely paying attention to anything Summer was saying to him. He wished Ted was here. He always knew what to say.

He walked beside her on the boardwalk, eyes glued to the crashing waves, mind replaying the scene over and over again.

“Bill, are you listening?” Bill blinked, turning to face her, cheeks flushing.

“Sorry.”

“I said I’m going to get more sunblock, you’re looking a little pink.”

“Oh, thanks, babe.” He heard her walk off, zoning out again. You had looked so betrayed when he didn’t believe you, but, it couldn't be you were telling the truth. Why would you do something like that? All you seemed to do was glare at him, brush him off, and scoff at his jokes. It was clear he wasn’t your favorite person.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts once more, looking around to see if Summer had come back yet. His eyes caught her figure walking up the beach and he raised his hand to wave, stopping when he saw her wrap her arms around some unknown guy. He was too far away to hear what they were saying but knew what it meant when she had kissed him. Y/n was right. And I was so non-non-non excellent to her.

-

Sweat was dripping from Bill’s brow, his chest heaving as he panted. He could not remember where your house was, even if it was supposedly close to his own. It was the third time he had run up and down the coastline, trying to remember where you had pointed four days ago.

This was ridiculous, he was never going to find you… until Monday, when you both would be at school. But that was days from now!

“Y/n!” He fell to his knees in the sand, trying to catch his breath. 

“Bill?” 

“Y/n!” It was a miracle. He noticed the basket in your hands, having collected odd rocks, seashells and glass while walking along the shore. You had been trying to explore away from your house, hoping not to run into the very man who was looking for you.

“How’s it… hanging?” You asked awkwardly, scanning the area for the female that was usually seen by his side. “Where’s Summer?” He scrambled to stand in front of you.

“Y/n, you were most veracious last evening. Summer had been pursuing me with malicious intent. I caught sight of her embracing her boyfriend and I knew you were speaking the truth. I regret the way I treated you. I should have trusted you.”

“I mean… You had reason to doubt me. It’s not all your fault. Besides, it seemed as if she really liked you. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.” You coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “Um, to be honest, I really only acted so bogus because I… like you.”

“No way…” He breathed, trying to recall any instance where it seemed you had a crush on him.

“Uh.. yeah. Yes way.” Your cheeks pinked. “But I obviously don’t expect you to return the feeling. I just get really nervous around you so I guess I figured I should treat you like dirt instead of trying to talk to you like a normal person. But I was worried you would think I was too weird, or that I talk too much, or-” You were cut off by a pair of lips. It was so foolish… and so Bill. 

“What about Summer?” You asked once he had pulled away.

“What about her?” It was just like Bill to not stay too upset for too long. 

His gaze was burning, his lips curling into that perfect, knee-melting, pearly smile. That smile you couldn’t stand. That smile that you couldn’t believe was finally directed at you.

[spookyceph]

Pull Test

Summary: Shigaraki and Kurogiri meet with the League of Villain's newest candidate.

Rating: Gen Fic, SFW

Relationships: Shigaraki & Magne

Characters: Shigaraki Tomura, Magne, Kurogiri, Giran, mentioned Dabi, mentioned Toga Himiko

Words: 2,732

Warnings: Implied/Referenced transphobia and deadnaming when Magne's background is mentioned, swearing

The manila folder dropped from the air like a dead bird, hitting the bar top with a slap. Tomura jerked back, stool wobbling beneath him, and grit his teeth as he heard the staccato sounds of his fighter taking damage in his game. Recovering balance, he hit the pause button before glaring at the warp gate that swirled into being across the way.

“Another one already?” he snapped the moment the tall figure of his caretaker stepped out of the darkness.

Kurogiri straightened both his tie and metal gorget. “I was quite impressed myself. Giran is proving to be as professional and efficient as advertised.” He motioned to the folder he’d air dropped in. “Shall we consider this new candidate together, Shigaraki Tomura?”

Tomura wasn’t in the mood to consider shit. He hadn’t been hanging around the bar for going on two hours hoping for work to come along. One of his hands strayed to his pocket. He touched the lump that was the jar of salve he’d taken to carrying at all times. The serpentine ridge of a friendship bracelet (I used red, white, and black string so it would match you, Tomura-kun!) had joined it a week ago. Of course, he’d die before admitting to lurking just to catch a glimpse of Dabi. Or that he’d agreed to let Toga show him her favorite otome games as soon as she came back from her shopping trip. He definitelycouldn’t tell the smug old ink splatter to fuck off and let him get back to his goal of a high score—not without having how wrong he’d been about those same two people rubbed in his face.

That left being a responsible leader as the only option.

Tomura growled and set his game aside. He flicked the folder open. “Fine. What’s this new asshole’s name?” Giving in didn’t require him to be gracious about it.

“Ah. About that. I believe there’s a conflicting issue in her files about that point. Her family name is Hikiishi, however, her given one, or both, may require an update.”

A look at the top of the file filled in the blanks. The picture Giran had included showed the candidate flashing a bold smile at the camera. Shoulder-length auburn hair framed prominent cheekbones. Slightly darker fuzz lined her jaw and chin. Tomura couldn’t tell what color her eyes were behind her sunglasses, but they locked with his through lenses and stock paper alike. Hikiishi Kenji, read the first line of information on the page beneath the photo. A police report, by the looks of it.

“I see. Well, for now let’s just call Hikiishi by her alias until she confirms with us.” Tomura skimmed through the info again. “Magne, right? Related to her quirk, I assume.”

The currents of Kurogiri’s mist slowed and relaxed into looser coils. “Correct.”

Tomura frowned. “What? Did you think I’d have some sort of problem with the name thing?”

“After the misunderstanding with Dabi—”

“Dabi and I talked.”

The yellow eyes glowing within the darkness widened. “Did you now?”

Fuck, he wasn’t turning red, was he? Was he? “We’re adults. We worked shit out, okay? Not everybody has a stick up their ass about being polite all the time.” He scooped up his game, more than ready to retreat into something he could control. “When are we expecting Magne?”

“Giran can bring her by tomorrow evening.”

“Fine. Let’s get the stupid meet and greet crap over with.” When only silence followed, Tomura raised his gaze from the screen to glare at Kurogiri. “What?”

The wisps curling from the smoggy bastard’s head looked suspiciously like smiles. “Nothing, Shigaraki Tomura. Nothing at all.”

-

Taptaptap.

Tomura’s finger rose and fell on the bartop fast enough to give a sewing machine needle a run for its money. The ball of his right foot bounced on the stool’s crossbar in time with it.

Taptaptap.

Giran had promised he’d be there between 9:00 and 10:00. The clock by the door pointed to 9:51.

Taptaptap.

Lots of people would be riding the trains on a Friday night. Or roaming the streets, looking for food and alcohol, karaoke, strangers to stave off loneliness. Heroes would be out in force as a result, watching for any predators stalking the herds of humanity. Tomura didn’t know how to calculate exact probability rates for shit hitting the fan, but he got the sense they were on the higher end under such conditions.

Taptaptap.

Why couldn’t he just run into party members along the way as needed, like in games? Each one would specialize in a skill, forming a well-rounded team. Everyone would follow him to the bitter end because they believed in him and not some ass goblin named Stain. Why they believed in Tomura wouldn’t matter, though money would be a reasonable guess. Idealism didn’t pay much from what he could tell.

Taptap—

“Be calm, Shigaraki Tomura. This meeting will go well.”

He bared teeth at Kurogiri. “There has to be a meeting for it to go a certain way. And I am calm, damn it.”

“So I see.” He finished wiping down the glass he held before setting it on the bar and grabbing another. “My apologies.”

Tomura twisted on the stool to give the smart ass shadow a piece of his overthinking mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

Without missing a beat, Kurogiri stuck his free hand through a small warp gate and turned the handle of the door across the room. He went back to polishing as two figures entered the bar.

For someone who charged such high fees, Giran went out of his way to look cheap and kitschy. Little round tinted lenses pinched to the bridge of his nose. A scrunched scarf like someone’s guts slung around his neck. One front tooth missing in his low-key sleazy smile. The woman following right behind him and surveying her new surroundings made for a more welcome sight. Sunglasses (her and Giran both, for fucks’ sake) hid her eyes just like in her picture, but her lips held a hint of a smile.

The essence of good manners, Kurogiri bowed to their guests. “Good evening. Welcome to our humble home.”

Tomura, to balance the scales, snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Took you long enough.”

Giran shrugged and twirled his hand, leaving behind a smoke spiral from the tip of the cigarette between his fingers. “Our train was delayed by some prankster threatening to blow up the tracks.”

“Doesn’t sound like a prank.”

“It wouldn’t have been if the lazy bastard hadn’t been trying to pass off children’s clay as plastic explosive. One of the cops noticed the stuff was bright yellow and they rushed him. They didn’t even call in a hero.” The broker shook his head. “What’s this world coming to? People can’t be bothered to find and pay for real weapons anymore. It offends my pride as a businessman.”

Behind Father, Tomura grimaced. His short-lived venture with Stain had indeed moved people to lash out at society. The problem was most of them were fucking morons. He doubted any decent candidates the League managed to net would make up for all the secondhand embarrassment he’d suffered in the past couple of weeks from watching the news.

“Oh, I don’t know,” the woman said, tapping her chin. “I felt kinda bad for the poor guy. He looked like your average office wage-slave. I thought he was going to break down in tears when they hauled him off.”

“Serves him right for cutting corners. No conviction, no integrity these days I tell you.”

She hid a grin behind her hand. “You’re heartless, Giran.”

The broker snorted smoke from his nostrils like an exasperated dragon. “I’m practical.”

“And yet you still haven’t introduced me.”

Posture straightening, Giran tugged at his weirdly anatomical scarf. “Sorry, got sidetracked. Magne, Shigaraki Tomura and Kurogiri of the League of Villains.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Slipping off his stool, Tomura gave her a short bow. The way Kurogiri swayed slightly, as if he’d swoon from shock, made the display worth it.

“I take it I’ve earned my fee?” chimed in Giran.

Kurogiri’s misty form shuddered as he roused himself. “Of course. We’ll hear from you again soon?”

“I’ve got a few candidates lined up.” The broker sketched them a mock salute before turning and closing the door behind him.

“Please, have a seat.” Tomura motioned to the row of barstools beside him.

“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.”

While Magne approached, he studied her movements. She strode across the hardwood floor, work boots making minimal noise with each step. Grace as well as power. She knew how to use the muscle under her shirt’s rolled up sleeves rather than relying on pure size. Although, that didn’t hurt either—Tomura put her at over ten centimeters his own height at least, and she definitely outclassed him by weight. He wondered whether she had speed to go along with strength. She slid into the next seat over and rested her chin in her hands.

“Would you care for something to drink, Miss Magne?” Kurogiri asked, jumping at the chance to play host.

“Oh, my. So formal. Sure, I’ll have whatever you recommend.”

Tomura waited until a small glass of something amber-colored had been set in front of them both (ginger ale for him) and she’d taken an approving sip before getting things rolling.

“You have quite a record, Magne.” Though he’d already memorized the relevant bits, he flipped open the folder container her information.

She glanced over, shades slipping down her nose as she scanned the first page of the police report. “Twenty-nine attempted murders, huh? Is that what they’re calling those? I’m surprised you guys bothered having me come in after reading that garbage.”

“Why?”

Like a small bird, Tomura’s stomach dipped and fluttered when Magne looked at him over the edge of her glasses. Not quite in the same way it did when he caught Dabi watching him from across the room, but close enough to classify the sensation as pleasant. Her irises shone like polished agates, made up of rich layers of browns from a starburst of mahogany around her pupils to flecks of burnished copper. Tomura suddenly understood her hiding them behind lenses. Such a beautiful detail would stick in anyone’s memory.

“Somebody who tried and failed to kill that many people would look pretty incompetent, right?” she replied. “Or like they chickened out at the last second. I don’t enjoy killing. I’ll tell you that up front. But…I didn’t hesitate with the three I did put down, let’s just say that.”

Tomura, a multiple murderer himself, examined the square set of her shoulders, the twist of scorn to her mouth towards her accusers, and found no reason to doubt her. He nodded.

“The so-called attempts were from the robberies you pulled off then?”

“Mostly, though I’m sure a few of the bullies I smacked around exaggerated just to prove what big, strong men they are.” She harumphed and took another sip from her drink.

“And the actual murders?”

Her lips puckered, as if she tasted something more bitter than whatever alcohol Kurogiri had given her. “Personal matters.”

“I see.” Tomura turned the page and ran his finger further down the information. “Your quirk has some unique parameters.”

The lines of Magne’s face eased into a smile. “Oh, the gender thing? A theory really. I haven’t had much opportunity to test it seriously. It might be nothing but my own perception…but I guess that doesn’t make it any less real, does it?” She lifted a hand from her glass and reached halfway toward him. “Care for a demonstration?”

Tomura caught himself drawing away from her, his nails latching onto the sides of his neck. Cowering—great way to display his leadership skills. “What’re you going to do?”

“Oh, just tug on your arm a little. Go ahead and put it down by your side for me.”

Resisting the urge to look to Kurogiri for reassurance, he did as asked. For safety’s sake he curled his fingers into a fist.

Magne smiled. “Ready?”

According to the knot in his stomach, no, but he nodded anyway. His arm jerked and leapt up as if it were tied by a string. Tomura gasped, almost slipping off his seat. Magne caught and steadied him.

“Sorry, honey! Got so excited to show off I put a bit too much oomph into it.” She patted his shoulder as if there weren’t dead, gray hands clutching it.

“’S’alright,” he mumbled. And it was—his skin showed no marks, his muscles and joints registered no pain. He readjusted the delicate hand decorating his wrist. Cold, waxy, and pliant. Nothing like Magne.

“So, can you manipulate people’s movements? Turn them into your puppets?”

She hummed and pushed her sunglasses back into their proper place. “Not really. I can move someone with the proper amount of push versus pull, but it’s such delicate work that they could break free pretty easily. Hold out your arm and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Still making a fist, Tomura followed her suggestion. Magne positioned her hands on either side of his forearm, spread about half a meter apart. Concentration dug a V between her brows. A thrum jolted through Tomura’s bones. He startled at the rush of tingles in his elbow and shoulder but kept his balance. Something like a low electrical current pulsed along his arm, raising its pale little hairs. Eyes wide, he watched as the limb drifted from one side to the other, then up, down—anywhere the poles of Magne’s palms guided it. He could even see, feel his skin being tugged and pressed by her quirk. Taking a deep breath, Tomura drew his fist back. He met some resistance, but didn’t have to put up any real struggle.

“Weird.” He shook his buzzing fingers out. “But kinda nice. Tingly. Like an electrical field.”

Magne tilted her head and smirked. “Oh? That’s a new one. Then again, maybe I’d have heard it before if I used my quirk for something besides bashing jerks.”

What would he have done without Father hiding the fact he blushed at the slightest fucking thing? He’d never get used to talking to people at this rate.

“Your skills would be a great asset to the League, Miss Magne,” Kurogiri said, saving Tomura from having to pretend he could be witty. “I presume Giran discussed the expenses we cover? Upon joining, you would also be welcome to claim a room upstairs, should you wish.”

Magne went still. Even her breathing stopped for a moment. “You’d let me stay here?”

Tomura knew right then he’d never live down being wrong about not letting League members move into the hideout. Kurogiri would never be crass enough to say it out loud, of course. He didn’t have to. Tomura sighed, accepting his fate.

“Two members live here already, including another woman. We can introduce you to them both before you decide.”

Gaze aimed at the ceiling, Magne touched fingers to her pursed lips. “I’ve already made up my mind.” She met Tomura’s eyes, a smile lighting up her face. “Sign me up.”

Well. He had no clue whatso-fucking-ever how they’d convinced her, but results were results. Besides, she hadn’t mentioned Stain once. She deserved free room and board for that alone.

“Ah, wonderful. We’re so delighted to have you, Miss Magne.” Kurogiri steepled his fingers. “Please let me know if you require any assistance in moving your belongings. I can warp them to whichever room you choose.”

A soft laugh huffed out of her. “No need, honey. I travel light these days. Would tomorrow evening be too soon?”

Tomura shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure Toga and Dabi are around so you can meet them.” Even if he had to staple the latter to a chair to make him comply.

“Sounds like a plan.” Magne raised her glass. “To new friends then?”

There was that word again. Offered with the same ease Toga had shown. And Dabi…he’d never said it maybe but his gift had implied…well, something. Tomura touched his pocket. The weight and shapes of the items inside it. With the same hand, he picked up his own glass and clinked it against Magne’s.

“Sure. I’ll drink to that.”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch5. Chilli Fries And Appletize

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

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

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ALERT!!

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

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

 “Fuck!”

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

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

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He frowned.

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

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

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

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

“And I feel huge! This is ridiculous!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

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

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” He stopped to look at her.

“I really want fries.”

“McDonalds again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?” he asked.

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

“Short notice pal.”

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

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll make it up to you.”

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

“Bow job?”

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

“Sailor, I know I can.”

“I’m not that cheap.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Don’t blame me…”

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

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

“Not on purpose!” He looked at her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bean’s moving again.”

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

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You will do soon enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You all worked up baby girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

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

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

“My hero!” she grinned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

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

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

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

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

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

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

“Probably before Boston actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know full well what I mean.”

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

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

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You bet Sailor…”

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

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

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

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for god’s sake…”

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

**** Chapter 6

[jayjaydawn]

nothing without you

Summary: Where Hoshi and you go through a rough patch in your relationship

Pairing: Hoshi/Soonyoung x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Language

Words: 2596

A/N: I actually read a fic like this long back and i tried to create something around it. I unfortunately cannot find that fic anymore and I really loved it :(((

“A relationship is perfect because of its imperfections”

It felt like it had been forever since you had a decent conversation with Soonyoung. He replied vaguely to all your text messages and declined your calls. His only excuse being that he was busy preparing for tour and didn’t have the time. He hadn’t visited your apartment in at least a month. But that didn’t stop you from making an effort. 

You had just arrived at the Pledis Building to meet him and his members. You brought some cupcakes you had baked with you knowing how much the rest of the members loved eating them. When you entered their studio, most of Seventeen was sitting by themselves, on the phone, probably on a break. The ones present there greeted you as they saw you come in. You handed them the box of cupcakes asking, “Where’s Soonyoung?” 

“Uhmm, I think he went to talk to the manager, he should be back any moment, just make yourself comfortable.” Minghao informed you. You gave him a slight smile and made your way to sit on the couch, next to Jihoon. 

“___ what’s up? You look distracted.” Jihoon asked as he saw you zoned out next to him. 

“Oh it's nothing, just thinking.” you replied and saw him nod. 

Just then, you heard the door open. You looked up to see Soonyoung enter with Jun behind him. He noticed you sitting on the couch but didn’t exactly acknowledge you before making his way to the opposite end of the room. 

You got up from the couch and made your way towards him. 

“I brought you some cupcakes” You told Soonyoung as you extended the box towards him. 

“Hmm, just keep it there.” He said, too busy rummaging through his bag to even look up at you.

“What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you look at me?” You asked him. 

“I just don’t know why you have to show up here so frequently. You’re disturbing me as well as the rest of the members.” He looked at you with an annoyed expression. 

It felt like the breath was knocked out of you. It wasn't like you visited them that frequently. You just wanted to see Soonyoung because you hadn’t in so long. They were all supposed to fly out to Japan for promotions of their new Japanese Album. You didn’t realise you were such a burden. You were oblivious to the fact that the rest of the members could clearly hear your conversation but pretended not to. 

“Oh.” You said, eyes glistening with unshed tears. You couldn’t understand why you were not able to fight back. Maybe it was because your sadness overpowered the anger you felt or maybe you just didn’t want to create a scene in front of the rest of the members. You turned away from Soonyoung and made your way over to the couch to grab your bag. You didn’t want to look at anyone, you felt too embarrassed. Even so, before you left the room, you looked up at the members, noticing how they were giving you pitiful looks. 

“Best of Luck guys. I hope you have a safe flight tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the airport to see you off.” You said with a slight smile, trying not to let your sadness show too much. You exited the room soon after. 

After a few moments of silence, Jihoon walked up to Soonyoung. “What’s your problem Hoshi? Why did you have to treat her like that?” “It’s better if you don’t get yourself involved Jihoon, she’s my girlfriend and it's our business.” “You’re going to regret this, trust me.” It seemed Soonyoung wasn’t phased at all, he simply dismissed whatever Jihoon said and left. 

•••

The next morning, you were sitting up on your bed, looking at your phone. Soonyoung always texted you when he had boarded his flight and once he landed. You were aware that his flight was scheduled at 7:30am. It was already 8 and you had not received a single text. In fact, Hoshi’s stylist, Seyeon had texted you at 5am letting you know that the boys were on the way to the airport. You were quite close to her and the other Pledis staff because of them being around your boyfriend all the time. You sighed as you laid back down. You hadn’t slept very well all night and it felt like you wouldn't be able to anytime soon. 

Before you knew it, it was time for lunch but you had not gotten out of bed at all. Your phone rang and you hopefully looked to see who was calling you. It was Seyeon. 

“Hello?” “It’s time to get out of bed now! I know you and I’m sure you haven’t even brushed yet.” “Hmm, I’m getting up now.” “Okay, so you’re going to meet me for lunch. I’m giving you the next hour to get ready and reach Pledis.” Before you could say anything else, she had hung up.

•••

“You need to stop sulking ___, He’s been behaving like this for quite some time and you need to stop giving in to him. Let him know he can’t take you for granted.” 

“Yah, I will.” You replied half heartedly. 

“Good girl. By the way, we are having a small party with only staff members and I’m in charge of decoration. Would you mind helping me?” Seyeon asked you sheepishly. “Of course I will, but you owe me huh!” You laughed as you both made your way towards the staff room. 

•••

You were on the tall tool trying to hang the streamers. You couldn’t reach a certain spot so you tried to get on your tippy toes to reach it. Before you could process that the tool had started shaking, you felt it topple over and you fell with a huge bang. 

You screamed and you heard Seyeon rush towards you. “Oh my god! Your arm!” She said as she shouted for the other staff members to come fast. She, along with another staff member, helped you up and rushed to the car to get you to the hospital.

•••

Your arm had suffered a ligament tear. They had put you in a cast and said you would need at least a week or two to recover.

“Seyeon can you do me a favour?” You asked her while sitting on your bed. She had refused to leave your side because she blamed herself for your injury. 

“Anything ___. Just tell me.”

“Please don’t let Soonyoung know.” “But--” “Please.” You said and that was the end of the conversation.

•••

Soonyoung was sitting in the dressing room in Japan. It had already been 3 days since he had arrived there. He hadn’t received any call or text from you since that argument. He suddenly felt full of dread. He knew he shouldn’t have treated you that way and he didn’t understand why he was behaving like that. You both were in a relationship for almost 4 years. You were his everything. You both never did anything without telling each other. You have had multiple fights but you always made up. 

He knew he was at fault and he had to contact you first. So he did. He called you, once. Twice. Thrice. You did not answer. He texted you, asking you casual questions. He did not apologise but he behaved as though nothing was wrong. He never got any reply.

•••

Another two days passed. He was sitting in the dressing room yet again. A hair stylist was setting his hair and another was wiping the sweat off his face. 

She suddenly asked, “How’s ___? Is her arm fine? I heard it was a fracture?” 

It felt like everything stopped for a moment. The rest of the members stopped too and turned towards Hoshi. 

“What did you just say?” He asked calmly. It was like the calm before a storm. 

“Yah. Did she not tell you? She fell off a ladder or something, Seyeon told me a couple days back. They’ve put a cast on her.” 

Soonyoung got up and pushed both the stylists away from him. “I need to fly back tonight. I don’t care.” 

“You know you can’t do that Soonyoung.” Seungcheol said as Seokmin and him tried to calm Hoshi down.

“What the fuck do you mean I can’t? She’s injured, probably in pain and I’m not there! She didn’t even tell me!” He screamed as he took out his phone to call Seyeon. 

Seyeon picked up on the third ring. “Yes, Hoshi-” “Where’s ___? Why isn’t she picking up my calls? Why the fuck did you not tell me she was hurt?” 

“What are you on about Hoshi?” “Don’t try to play dumb with me Seyeon! I know she's injured. I need to talk to her.”  “Too bad, she doesn’t want to talk to you.” “THIS IS NOT FUNNY.” He shouted into the phone. “I know it isn’t. What’s really funny is you getting worked up about her ignoring you when you’ve been doing the same for weeks. And you know what else? Yes she is injured, but she didn’t want you to know because she didn’t want to disturb you and the rest of the members! Because you told her not to!” "Fuck!" Soonyoung said and he hung up. 

He sat down on the chair there with his head in his hands. Seokmin tried to console him as the staff members gave him water to drink and calm down. They were supposed to be on stage in 20 minutes. He wouldn't be back in Seoul till the day after and he knew you wouldn't reply to him. Everything was a mess. 

•••

It felt like a decade had passed before the flight landed. Soonyoung knew where he had to go as soon as he got out of the airport. Once they had passed all the security and the paparazzi, Soonyoung rushed to the van and instructed the driver to take him to your apartment. Seokmin, Jihoon, Seungcheol, Seungkwan, Jun and Minghao were in the van with him. The rest of the members were in the other Van trailing behind them. 

Soonyoung almost didn’t wait for the van to come to a complete stop before he hurriedly got down and made his way into the apartment complex. 

“We have to go with him in case he blows up. And I have a feeling ___ will need us to calm him down.” Jihoon said and all of them got down from the Van to follow behind Hoshi. 

•••

You were in the bedroom, watching seventeen videos, funnily enough. You missed Hoshi but you wouldn’t let him know that. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing continuously and made your way to open the door. 

“Wait! I'm coming! You’re going to break down the door Sey-” You stopped once you opened the door and found a seething Soonyoung standing in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” You said and tried hiding your injured arm behind the door to no avail. Soonyoung pushed himself through the gap and stood right in front of you. You could see some of the members behind him, still outside but you couldn’t focus on anything other than Hoshi. You saw his angry eyes scanning you and stopping at your arm. You opened the door the rest of the way for the members to enter. 

“Uhh Hi” You greeted everyone unsurely.

“All of you need to get out.” Soonyoung said angrily. “Hoshi-” “Get out” He repeated himself and grabbed your okay arm gently and pulled you towards your room. “We need to talk.”

Once you both had entered your room, you pulled your arm free from his hold and sat down on bed sighing. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You laughed sarcastically, “You haven’t replied to my calls and texts for weeks Soonyoung! What did you expect me to do? Text you about my injury? For you to ignore me?”

“You know that’s not fucking true. You know I love you! I would have left whatever I was doing to come back to you! To make sure you were okay.” 

“Are you sure? Wasn’t I just a nuisance to you and the rest of the members?”

“I’m sorry I said that! I did not mean that!”

“Well it hurt either way Soonyoung.”

“I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’m sorry for blowing up just now and I’m sorry for pushing you away.” Hoshi said apologetically.

“Please just leave me alone Soonyoung, we’ll talk about this later. Your friends are waiting outside and I’m sure you need to rest after your journey.” You told him and crawled into bed.

Hoshi did not know what to say. He didn’t want to leave but he had to give you time. He had to make it up to you. He did not want to lose the most important person in his life for his own selfishness. Soon enough he left with the members and you fell asleep.

•••

The next few days seemed so odd to you. Hoshi was coming in everyday, he’d get you food, he fed you. He refused to let you do anything, even if it was to go to the bathroom. 

“You need to stop doing this Hoshi.” 

“No. I’m sorry and this is my only way of earning your forgiveness.” 

You sighed and went back to doing your work. You knew he felt guilty about his behaviour and your injury. But you didn’t want him to just be there because of that. You wanted him to be there because he wanted to. 

You felt Hoshi tug your hand. You looked up to find him staring at you. He picked up your laptop from your lap and stood you up. 

 “What now?” You asked and felt him wrap his arms around you. He gently kissed your forehead and said, “___ I’m really so sorry. I know I was selfish, I was in the wrong and there probably is no other excuse I can give you. I fucked up I really did. Please forgive me.”

“Hoshi you need to get back to work.”

“No I don’t. Nothing is more important than you.”

“That’s not what you said that time.” you mumbled. He put his hands on your face and pulled it up to look at you repeating his previous words. “Nothing is more important than you ___”

“I’m planning to take some time off, we can sort it yeah?” 

“But-” “No buts. It’ll be just you and me for as long as I can get time off. I’ll talk to management today.” 

“Okay”

•••

Hoshi arrived at practice after a week. He had taken time off and it felt good to be back after the break. 

“Hyung is back” He heard Chan say when he got to the room. He smiled at him as he put down his bag. 

“Is everything okay?” He heard Jihoon ask from behind him. 

“Yes, I think so. ____ will be coming here during our break and I’ll take her to get the cast off.” “That’s good to hear” Jihoon smiled.

After a few hours of practice, you arrived at their dance studio. Practice stopped and Soonyoung came to hug you. You smiled at him brightly. This time, the members noticed how genuine your smile was and they felt happy. Finally, you both had sorted everything out. Soonyoung leaned in and gave you a deep kiss.

“Let’s go get this cast off” 

[evqnbuckley]

Chapter 1: Hopeless

Okay so i wrote my thoughts on what I wanted the finale to be and this got out of hand...this is like almost if not 6k and i’m not even finished. If this is popular enough I’ll continue to post on here but I’m gonna continue to update on ao3! @princesscas

Sam awakens from his nightmare, disoriented. The visions of seeing himself grow old, having a family and dying feel all too real. The beginning of his nightmare is fading and somewhat fuzzy but he remembers Dean making an appearance. He remembers seeing himself fight alongside his brother, killing some vampires, a normal hunt. Then his memory clears and the image of his brother impaled against a wooden pole catches his breath.

He wipes a hand across his face, trying to erase the images of Dean saying goodbye, of Dean's hand dropping as he took his last breath, and the image of lighting his own brother's pyre.

Sam pulls the covers off and walks toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The bunker is quiet, peaceful even. He still hasn't gotten used to calling it home, not really. The thing about a home is, four walls don't constitute it. Family is similar. It's not based on who you're related to but who loves you and has your back. Family, a home, whatever they are things you build around you. He had learned that long ago.

The wooden floors creak as he walks through the library. The silence is deafening yet comforting. It's a reminder that, for once, the world isn't ending. The linoleum sends shivers down his spine as he enters the kitchen. Sam replays the nightmare in his head while he downs a glass of water from the sink. The images slowly become distorted and misplaced in his memory. He eventually cannot picture it in his mind.

Sighing, Sam places the glass in the sink and walks back to his room. His feet make a pit-pat noise, approaching the hallway. Dean's door is cracked open slightly with faint light seeping through. Sam turns toward the door and peers in. His face softens, taking in the scene. Dean is cuddling a pillow adorned with a worn, rough, blue pillow case. The light emits from a lone lamp on his desk. Some type of paper for a mechanic position sits atop a few books from the library. Sam eyes the paperwork, puzzled. Dean never told me he got a job. Underneath, one of the books has a bookmark in three different places. There are a few crumpled up papers on and around the floor. Sam picks one up and unravels it.

Cas I know you're in the empty and you probably can't hear me….why did you do it? Why didn't you tell me about the deal before? I know I messed up and Billie was about to kill us both but….we could have died together found another way.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sam picks up another one. This time it's the one closest to the trash can. The markings are a bit sharper than the paper before. Almost more angry. It appears some words are smudged but still legible.

I try to move on and put on a brave face for Sammy. He needs to know now that Chuck is gone we can move on. We have to. I have tried to find a way to bring you back Cas. None of the books are fucking useful. I can't read Enochian. I don't even know if Enochian text is the key to saving you. I've tried contacting Rowena but i think she's busy. I'm at my wits end. I haven't gotten much sleep to be honest. As I'm writing this I have looked through 28 books all based on portals to other dimensions, hell, sacrificial rituals and reverse rituals. Even Astral projecting. I don't know what to do….

Sam swallows past the dry lump caught in his throat. He glances at Dean, making sure he's still asleep. Dean briefly shifts, pulling the pillow closer. Sam relaxes and picks up one more crumpled up paper. This one appears fresh, as if Dean wrote it tonight.

I tried praying to the angels. They didn't listen. No one is listening. Jack isn't even listening. He took himself out of the story, I know but this is you I'm talking about. How can he just sit by while you're suffering. I guess I'm on my own.

Why did you say that now?

The last sentence confuses Sam. He burrows his eyebrows as he studies the three entries. Dean is searching for a way to save Cas. To bring him back. And he didn't tell me? Sam quietly crunches the papers back up and places them back where he found them. Dean doesn't move. As Sam switches the lamp off, he feels the heaviness of the dark engulf him. I have to talk to Dean tomorrow.

Dean rolls over as the aroma of burnt bacon fills his room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up. Realizing that Sam is about to burn the bunker down, he slips on his robe and jogs to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Well good morning to you too," Sam replies a bit offended. He's flipping bacon as Dean yanks the tongs out of his grip. "What- I am making breakfast. Can I not make breakfast?"

"I don't know what you think you're making but it definitely, definitely ain't breakfast," Dean smarts. He trashes the burnt bacon and starts a new batch. "Sit. No, why don't you make some coffee."

"Already did. Here ya go," Sam slides Dean's mug across the island, "your highness," Sam says under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, me too," Sam perks up. "I think I found something that screams our kinda thing. We should head there after we eat breakfast. It's not too long of a drive." Dean finishes as he places the cooked bacon on some paper towels and grins from ear to ear. Sam just watches as his brother starts on some scrambled eggs. This might be more challenging than I had hoped.  

"So when you said our sorta thing you meant pie?"

"I meant pie," Dean confirms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go eat me some of that pie."

"Didn't we-Dean we just had breakfa- nevermind," Sam gives in and follows Dean through the crowd.

Several families are participating in the pie fest. Some are gearing up to find out who can eat the most pie, who makes the best pumpkin pie, and some are just making whip cream pies and pieing each other. Sam observes those around him with a small smile. A life he desperately wants someday but knows he can't have. Or can I?

Dean approaches Sam with a big box and almost runs into some bystander. "Hey, watch it."

"What is that?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't pick just one! Come on, Sammy we're at a pie fest. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot."

Dean ponders his answer and let's it slide. He picks up one of the pies and offers it to his brother. Sam declines. "Dude, you gotta at least try it."

"No, really I'm good."

"Alright, what is it? What's got you so down today?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam replies.

"No, see I know my baby brother. So I know that is your sad Sam face. Fess up, what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" Sam begins, but Dean gives him a look.

"I don't know. I'm just thinking about Cas, about Jack."

Dean's expression falls. He looks down and places the pie back in its spot. "Yea me too. I think about them too. Every day. But we have to move on, Sam. Live our lives. Or else that sacrifice, it will all be for nothing," Dean looks at Sam. "So help me finish this pie."

Dean reaches down for the same pie again but his face is met with a cold surface. Sam smothers the pumpkin pie in Dean's face, laughing. "You know what, I do feel better!"

Sam shakes his hand to free the whip cream, watching Dean rake the remainder of the pie off his chin with his fork. Suddenly, Sam's temples begin pulsing painfully and he has an immense sense of deja vu. His smile falters and he feels out of place. Almost, as if he's reliving this moment. It's similar to the feeling he had this morning.

"Hey, Sam. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He's not honestly sure if everything is okay.

Sam texts Eileen and tells her he wants to make up for the date they missed months ago. She agrees it has been too long and tonight would work for her. Sam doesn't want to make promises, as the day is still young, but they plan for their date tonight at 7. Dean teases Sam about it even though the two are already a couple. Saying things like, "don't do anything I wouldn't do" or "make sure you use protection." Sam just sighs and shakes his head.

It's 6:35 pm and nothing has come across the wire. Social media is quiet, so Sam texts Eileen that the date is a go. She replies five minutes later, ready to go and excited to see Sam. Dean offers to let Sam take the Impala out to pick Eileen up. For once in a long time, Sam is excited. When he reaches the garage door, Sam glances back at his brother and sees him nursing a brand new whiskey bottle. Sam frowns at the sight. Dean deserves to feel excited, to be happy. Sam will go on this date with Eileen, tell her about Cas, and they will come back to help Dean. Help Dean get his best friend back. Our best friend back .

Dean waves his brother off and slumps into the chair in the library. It's not very comfortable. In fact, the wooden back is digging into his thoracic spine and causing some pain. But it's better than the alternative. The alternative of thinking about what he's lost, who he's lost, and how he lost them. That pain will never go away. Right now I can focus on this acute pain and center my thoughts on it. Keep myself from sinking into the dark hole of nothing I've been trying to climb out of since I lost - since I lost

Dean finishes the whiskey bottle before Sam gets home and he's still not drunk enough. He rises from the chair and walks to the liquor cart. All the bottles are half empty or nothing but drops of whiskey, gathering at the bottom of the glass. He picks up one empty glass bottle and stares at it for several moments. His vision becomes distorted from the small glass textures, his left ear begins to ring from the silence as he falls into a trance like state. Then, a glint of sapphire reflects in the textured glass. It catches his eye; Dean swallows. Suddenly, he's thinking of Castiel. Cas. He's thinking of "I love you's" and "Goodbye, Dean" and black goo. He's thinking of how the image of his best friend disappearing into a black mass of nothing is seared in his memory forever. He's thinking of how he didn't get to say goodbye, or anything really, and now he never will.

He grimaces at the bottle, squeezes the neck so hard his knuckles blanche, and throws it across the room, into the kitchen. It lands by the island, shattering to pieces, with a deafening crash. Dean feels his eyes burning and hot tears gathering at the corners. Before he realizes, Dean is grabbing all the glass bottles and throwing them into the kitchen. In his fit of rage, Dean throws one bottle too high and it shatters against the side of the kitchen table. Glass spreads across the floor. He doesn't even register the intensity of the mess until one bottle knocks off another, shattering it at his feet. He stops throwing the bottles, breaking from his trance.

"I tried everything! I can't save you! There's nothing left! How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch," Dean cries. He places his hands on either side of his head, thinking. "Jack! How can you just leave us? We need you. Cas needs you! Fuck this all powerful, all knowing God bullshit. We're family!" Dean tosses the cart over. "Isn't that enough?" He pauses and glances around for a moment. Nothing. "Dammit, Jack. Why won't you answer my prayers? I need some help!" He cries out and slowly sits down. "I can't do this on my own," he whispers between his sniffles. He begs over and over again please please please in his head for a few moments. But he's met with silence like every other time. Dean accepts this and wipes his tears away, picks the cart up, grabs the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and picks up his mess. He can't have Sam see what a hypocrite he truly has become.

Dean cuts himself on a few lone pieces of glass, but it's nothing he can't handle. In fact, for a brief moment, the pain gives him something to focus on. He mindlessly watches the crimson slowly drain down the sink as he holds his palm under the running water. He wonders what it feels like to float down the water, through the pipes, through the darkness, into nothing. What is wrong with me? But that's where Cas is right now. A bunch of nothing. Dean grabs a hand towel and wraps it around his left hand before returning to the broom. The kitchen is just about clean. Within about 5 minutes, all the glass and spilled whiskey is gone. Almost as if it never happened. Dean places the broom and dustpan back in the corner and trudges through the hallways.

There is a secret stash of whiskey in his man cave that Dean hid for emergencies. And this constitutes an emergency. He walks to the wall, removes a Star Wars poster from the fifth movie, and pulls out a few bricks, revealing the beautiful brown bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not his favorite but Dean was in a rush when he bought it a couple of weeks ago before they defeated Chuck just in case anything went sideways. Also, in case Sam found his stash at least it wouldn't be his good whiskey. Popping the cap off, Dean takes a long swig as he stumbles toward the couch. Sam should be home soon. I'll be done with this bottle by then and be able to forget anything blue for a while. Except all he dreams of is blue.

Bright blue swirls fill his dreams as he drifts off. He feels immense warmth as the blue wraps around him like a large ribbon and he floats above the grass. The ribbon caresses Dean like a soft, silk cloud, holding him in place. A slight breeze causes the ribbon to ripple in harmony and alternate between hues of blue. The colors circulate between indigo to azure to cobalt to cerulean to teal and finally midnight blue effortlessly. Dean sees dark angels wings above and feels safe. He flies higher as the ribbon ascends toward the wings. Flashes of cerulean eyes skip by, sad and yearning, before Dean is pulled down into dark azure ocean water by the wings. The ribbon of blue dissolves into nothing. Dean feels alone. In dreams, people don't usually have their sense of smell, but Dean swears he smells hints of sandalwood, a campfire, and honey. Then, he sees Castiel materialize before him with his wings extended, long and wide. Beautiful. They're untouched with no sign of rebellion or impurities. Just as Dean had first seen them. Before he met me. Before he rebelled and lost everything for me. I cursed you, Cas. Green eyes lock with blue and Castiel smiles at Dean. Then suddenly, Castiel's wings begin to dissipate and burn away. He appears to scream in pain. Dean reaches out just as soon as the water darkens and swarms around Castiel. He thrashes against the thick water but cannot break free. Dean is frozen in the water and at once cannot breathe. He screams out to Castiel but no sound comes out. He, instead, inhales the water. Castiel disappears within the black, thick water just as soon as he appears. He's gone.

Dean's eyes slowly open. This is a recurring nightmare he's had since Castiel sacrificed himself. Since he left. Dean had hoped the alcohol would impair his subconscious enough to avoid the nightmare. Beer hasn't been strong enough, nor tequila, or vodka. Whiskey is his last resort and apparently it does jack-shit. I need something stronger, if I am to get any sleep. Although the whiskey does not keep the nightmares at bay it does keep him numb. That is enough to continue drinking. He reaches for the bottle and misses. I may be seeing double. After a few tries, Dean successfully retrieves the bottle and downs the remaining third of the whiskey. His head feels heavy and his chest feels hot. Dean can feel his fingers tingling and toes numbing against his socks. This is the sweet spot of feeling drunk, he thinks.

Sam returns from his date, unnoticed, and walks into the room, seeing Dean spread out on the couch. He eyes the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table and sighs. Sam remembers the other whiskey bottle left on the library table. The same one Dean had been nursing before Sam left. Dean is on a bender again. Eileen shuffles up next to Sam and glances at the couch. She looks at Sam with a sad look. At dinner, he filled her in with everything he knows about Castiel and his sacrifice for Dean. But Eileen didn't realize it would affect Dean this badly. She walks over to Dean and pulls the blanket from on top of the couch and covers Dean. He's passed out again and is slightly twitching. His eyes are racing back and forth.

"We will regroup tomorrow and discuss Plan SOC," Sam whispers while signing.

"I'm still not sure about the code word," Eileen signs with a grimace.

"We'll work on it," he signs with a shrug.

The next morning Dean wakes to his Jack Daniel's replaced with three ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. Grateful, he slowly takes them one at a time due to the agonizing headache. Usually he doesn't have headaches or hangovers but the nightmares don't give him much rest. He really isn't able to sleep off the alcohol. Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to push back the headache, Dean sighs with exhaustion. He doesn't even know what time it is. His watch reads 4:32 but Dean is unsure if it's AM or PM.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach growl and Dean realizes he hasn't eaten since about noon today. Yesterday? He sloppily rises up and makes his wake toward the kitchen. Nothing really sounds appetizing except for some string cheese. Only, they don't have string cheese. Of course. So, Dean settles for the two day old pepperoni pizza in the fridge. Not too bad, and he will never say no to pizza. Dean isn't sure how long he was passed out but the effects of the whiskey have certainly worn down a bit. He can't walk a straight line, but his vision is more clear. He clumsily carries the pizza box over to the library table next to his laptop and sits it down. Quietly, he pulls the chair out and takes a seat. The hunter in him wants to make sure everything is quiet out in the world. The clock on his laptop confirms its 4:38 AM.

A few clicks and searches show there's a local mysterious killing. Our kinda thing. Dean smiles, knowing that this case will help keep his mind busy. And he will be able to save someone. At least this way he will feel like his life was worth saving. Ironic. I feel like I've said that before. Why do people feel the need to jump at any chance to save me? I don't deserve saving. Dad sold his soul for me and now Cas. I don't deserve it. He shakes his head and munches down on cold pizza in silence.

Dean finishes the last three slices of pizza, underestimating how hungry he had been. He watches a few dumb YouTube videos for a while, to keep his mind off things, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean is tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but decides against it. He needs to be as sober as possible for the hunt, for Sam. If Dean were to go alone, he would not care. Not at this moment anyway.

Dean has realized his mood swings are ridiculous lately. At one moment, he's super depressed and doesn't care about anything. He honestly doesn't care if he lives or dies.  The next moment he can't wait to see what life has to offer. It's as if his brain doesn't know how to comprehend what Castiel's sacrifice means to him. His thoughts can become so tangled and incoherent Dean doesn't know how to act - what to say. That's why he started writing down some of his thoughts, and then thought how much of girl that made him and crumpled the papers up. Right now, he can really use a moment to write down his thoughts.

He grabs the notepad and pen on the table and scribbles away. I hate this feeling. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Sadness? Relief? Emptiness? Frustration? All of the above? Others? You left me with so many unanswered questions and I left you with nothing in return. How am I supposed to go on knowing this? Cas, how can I go minute to minute, hour to hour, knowing what I know now? I fucked up. I had a chance to say what I've been wanting to say for a while and I couldn't. I didn't. Did you even know? I mean do I even fucking know? I can't even hate you to make myself feel better. I can't bring myself to say I hate you for doing this to me. Because I could never hate you. The paper becomes wet with a few tear drops. I will find you, Cas. Just wait for me.

Dean places the pen next to the notepad after a moment. He wipes his nose with his flannel sleeve. Not many tears fell but his nose is running pretty good. Out of all of his thought entries, this one felt the most cathartic. He sometimes pretends that Castiel can hear him read the words to himself or even hear him as Dean writes the words. Just as Castiel heard his prayer in Purgatory. But he doesn't. He won't. The empty is a dark and torturous place. My prayer and words will be the last things he'd focus on.

Dean lays his head on the table from exhaustion, but doesn't shut his eyes. He won't risk falling asleep. Instead, he focuses on counting the books on each shelf to his right. Then, once he's done with those he counts the ones on his left. Dean notices some of these books, he nor Sam even use. He doesn't know half of the content in these books. Unfortunately, Dean underestimated how counting can cause drowsiness no matter the subject at play. His eyes begin to drift when Sam walks in with loud footsteps.

Yawning, Sam says, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

Dean jerks up, shaking his head from thoughts of sleep. "I found us a case," he replies.

"Mhm. Is that all you were looking for during the early morning?" Sam asks, eyeing the covered notepad. Dean notices and quickly turns it over.

"Sam," he warns. "mind your business."

"Good morning," Eileen joins the boys in the library.

Dean isn't too surprised to see her here but is happy for Sam nonetheless. "Morning, Eileen. I hope sasquatch here didn't take up the whole bed."

Eileen blushes and laughs at Dean. "I don't kiss and tell," she winks at Sam as she kisses him on the cheek. "Who wants breakfast?"

"Yes, please!" Sam signs.

Sam joins Dean at the table and a long beat passes between them. Sounds in the kitchen of water running, the clinking of plates, and banging of pans fill the silence instead. Dean repositions himself in the chair, still not making eye contact with Sam. Sam, however, is studying Dean. He appears disheveled, bags under his eyes, day old stubble and crust around his lips from dried whiskey. He's a wreck.

"So this case-" "We need to talk-" They start simultaneously.

Dean glances up for the first time. "You first."

"I know about Cas." Dean's eyes widen slightly. "At least I know there's more to the story. You didn't tell me everything and I know whatever happened is eating away at you." Dean gestures to dismiss Sam. "Dean, I know you. I can see it. I know when you get like this it's because of something close to you." Sam pauses. "I also read some of your crumpled up papers." A dark look crosses Dean's face. Almost like he wants to punch Sam.

"You did what?" Dean says.

Sam continues, ignoring Dean's comment. "I know you're trying to bring Cas back. I want to help," Sam offers.

Dean sighs, looking to the side. He knows the many dead ends and how disappointing it is trying to save Cas. He doesn't want to subject his brother to the very same thing. "It's no use, Sam. Everything is a dead end. I've tried everything I can think of. Cas is gone," Dean resigns, defeated. "All we can do now is save people, hunt things, and live our lives. It's what Cas would want. It's what everyone, who we have lost, would want."

"Dean," Sam starts. "You're giving up way too easily. There is always another way. Don't you always say that?" Dean doesn't respond. "I know how it may seem hopeless but we have options. We have the resources to continue the search to save him. You can't give up now, Dean. This is Cas."

"I've tried everything I can think of, Sam. Everything! Praying, research, calling Rowena. She doesn't answer. Jack is off grid. I've tried! There's nothing. He's gone!" Dean's voice cracks. He swallows down the pain. "We have to accept that. And however I deal with it is my business. So don't give me those judgy eyes like you are now." Dean says pointedly.

"But, Dean-"

"I said no Sam."

Dean gets up, signaling he's done with this conversation and takes the notepad with him. He doesn't even acknowledge Eileen as she brings breakfast to the library. "The case is pulled up on my laptop. I'm going to get ready." Dean turns the corner and is gone before Sam can reply.

Eileen's face falls as she holds a plate of french toast, bacon, sausage, and lots of syrup. Then one plate of regular scrambled eggs with toast for Sam. She sits the plates on the table and watches Dean leave. "Is he not hungry? I made his favorite." She says.  

"It's not that, he's dealing with some, he's just-" Sam doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence, or fully explain his brother's behavior.

"Cas?" Eileen offers. Sam nods.

Sam reads the case on Dean's laptop and begins to feel nauseated. He has a bad feeling. He, again, has a sense of deja vu. Two days in a row, it can't be a coincidence. It's like there is an itch at the back of his brain, crawling to the surface, wanting to show him something. He feels a headache come on and the pain is similar to when he used to get visions as a young adult. The pain grows stronger as the itch continues, pulling toward his frontal lobe.

Then, a flash of images of Sam and Dean dressed in their normal FBI threads quickly blink by. Another image of them at an abandoned barn fighting some strange, masked creatures. Sam recognizes the mask from Dad's journal. And then a burst of images, showing Sam and Dean fighting these creatures appear. They're vampires! The brothers are winning, slicing the vamp's heads off one after another. The last image shows Dean pushed against something sharp and… Oh no, Dean Sam thinks.

He grabs his head and shakes the images away. Groaning in pain, he sees he's on the floor. He must have fallen while the vision took over. Eileen is at his side, freaked out. She's signing, "Are you okay?" over and over again.

Slowly, Sam regains his thoughts and tells Eileen he's okay. Dean rushes by Sam's side by this point after hearing the loud thud from his fall. Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder, in concern.

"Dude, what the hell happened? Say something. You alright?" Dean glances over Sam, and around the bunker, checking for any intruders.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine. I feel like I just got hit by a freight train. Like how my visions used to feel." He pauses. "I actually think I just had a vision." Sam looks at Dean with bewilderment and Dean returns the look.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you had a vision?"

"Yea." Sam breathes.

"You haven't had one of those since you were like in your twenties and yellow eyes was after you. Why the fuck now?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was a nightmare, but last night the same images played in my mind. I went all day yesterday feeling a sense of deja vu. The pie fest, reading the case, even eating breakfast."

All three are silent for quite a while. Their breakfast grows cold but no one pays it any mind. "What if it's a sign?" Eileen questions.

"Like from God, uh, Jack?" Sam offers.

Dean huffs in response. He knows damn good and well Jack is staying out of everyone's business. There isn't any possibility Jack is interfering. "I doubt it."

"It's possible," says Sam. "Maybe he has taken himself out of the narrative, but what if he's helping us still by guiding us through this vision?"

"He hasn't answered any of my damn prayers since two months ago. Why would he start now?"

"I don't know, change of heart?" Sam offers, half-heartedly.

Dean stands and laughs with a bitter shake of his head. "You honestly believe that? Come on, Sam. The kid has a new sense of almighty. We, you, me and Cas, we are now left in the dust. He said so himself. You're just having some freak migraine."

Sam stands, with Eileen in tow. She helps him up by the arm. "You're wrong. I know he's not like Chuck, and stays away, but he still cares. I know he sent me this vision to help us. All of us," Sam stares at Dean's glare of hopelessness. "I have faith, Dean."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive that this is from Jack and he's trying to help us? Doesn't make a lot of sense that out of all the times I've asked for his help, to save Cas, or help me bring him back, he's now warning you of an ordinary hunt?" Dean says frustrated.

"Because in this hunt you die, Dean," Sam blurts out. Dean stays quiet. "You die and I have to go on without you. You leave me and I have to live a life without my brother."

Dean's gaze falls to the floor. He's quiet for a moment, processing this information. "You live a happy life?" He barely says.

"What?"

"After I die, do you go on having the whole white picket fence, apple pie life with the 2.5 kids?" Dean clarifies, calmly.

Sam searches Dean's face for any kind of sign of self actualization or will to live. "Why does it matter? I can still strive for that with you alive. We both can," he adds.

Dean smiles, that tired, sad smile. "No, Sammy. You and I both know as long as I'm alive you will always be in this life." He looks at Eileen. "You two will never have a chance at a happy, normal life with me around. Besides, hunting is what I do. There is nothing else for me. Not anymore.”

"That's not true," Eileen says, with tears in her eyes. She reaches out and places her hand on Dean's cheek, pleading for him to understand how wrong he is.

"It is. I'm the one that dragged you back into this life, Sam. I'm the only one keeping you here. Let me give you an out."

"Stop. Okay just stop. We are not going on this hunt. If you want to be suicidal, fine, but I'm keeping you out of danger. You are always so quick to jump in front of a gun or blade. Do you still care that little about yourself, Dean?" Sam searches his brother's eyes. "What about that job paperwork on your desk? You must have cared at some point. Wanted to live!" Dean is quiet. Sam sighs. "Cas wouldn't want you to die. He died to save you, remember? So, what I am going to do is bring Cas back. Are you going to help me?"

Dean ponders Sam's offer for a moment. "What about the people that will die, if we don't save them?"

"I'll call some hunters and give them a heads up on what to look out for when they go there. It'll be taken care of," Sam reassures.

Dean glances between Eileen and Sam. Fiddling with a loose string on the end of his flannel sleeve, he sighs. On one hand, he'd love to see Castiel again. He'd do anything- to hug him and tell him all the things he didn't get to say. But on the other hand, he's so tired. So very tired. There are no leads. And he's lost all faith in his search to save Castiel.

"Dean?" Sam starts.

"Okay. Let's bring Cas home."

[interstellix]

morning comfort ↳ lee felix

genre: fluff

summary: sometimes spending the whole day is simply just what you need after a rough week

word count: 1433

requested: no

warnings: none

a/n: did absolutely not write this after he posted his 200828 selfie and while having day6′s when you love someone on repeat and sobbing throughout it. nope. not at all

you wake up in the same stance you fell asleep in.

despite having been in a deep slumber, it's the noise of the heavy rain that drags you out from it, inviting itself inside through the open window. along with it comes a somewhat chilly breeze – the bedroom has become cold but in your current state, you don't seem to mind at all.

gently wrapped around a pair of arms, the body heat radiating from behind you serves just the right amount of warmth to leave you content.

you have no idea what time it is but even if your phone on the nighstand is a mere arm's length away, you don't bother checking. truthfully, there's no reason to, not when staying in bed a saturday morning after a long week seems like a way more tempting idea.

when the muffled yet rumbling sound of thunder suddenly breaks the silence in the bedroom, you instinctively shift your head up towards the window.

"don't move."

you don't know whether it's the low voice murmured in your ear or the warm breath fanning the back of your neck but either way, it sends a shiver a shiver down your spine. in response, you receive an amused giggle.

you ignore it and rather answer, "I'm not going anywhere, felix." there's a short pause before you continue, "what time is it anyway?"

said one hums and as much as you try to be discreet about it, another shiver runs through your body. this time though, he doesn't comment it. "last time I checked it was almost seven – probably a bit past it now."

"seven?" you answer in a scoff, the post-sleep exhaust raspy around it.

"that's okay, we can stay in. it's not like we have anything to do today."

you blink, thinking a bit until you remember, "we have to go grocery shopping today though. I have to pick up the clothes I ordered the other day and there's some paperwork I still need to fi–"

"I said, we don't have anything to do that," felix repeats, cutting you short but soon adds, "we can take that later. I'll go shopping and pick up your clothes, you finish your wo–"

this time, you cut him short. "absolutely not; I'm going shopping with you or you'll just get that gross cereal brand; besides, you always forget stuff."

"gross? gross? I think you're talking about those you, for some reason, like," felix retorts. "and mind you, I try my best."

"felix, your best is not enough when you forget to buy stuff even when you have the damn list," you laugh. shortly after though, you sigh, "whatever, it's too early for this. let's just take it later."

"that's what I said from the start!"

"okay, okay, I get it so stop yelling in my ear already "

felix chuckle. your shirt has sightly slipped off from your shoulder and he lets himself settle a light peck to the revealed skin. as he goes on, his voice softens, "sorry." you simply shake your head but when you soon decide to move around again, felix speaks in something between a whine and a groan, "y/n, don't get up."

"baby, it's seven in the morning, how can you be so annoying?" you say but can't help laughing. "I told you I'm not going anywhere, lemme just..."

as soon as he realizes you're just trying to turn around in his hold, he becomes content again, evident in the small smile you're met by. "there you are, morning-breath."

"oh, hush, my breath doesn't smell."

there's another peck to your forehead. "g'morning."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "you say that now?"

"jesus christ, you sure like to complain today, huh? and you call me annoying."

chuckling, you lean in for your own peck, pressing it to his cheek. "I'm just kidding."

felix only nods. his eyes close and the arm around your waist holds your body a tad closer to his. his hand finds its way under your shirt, thumb lightly rubbing the skin of your back.

you let yourself move even closer to him but even while you dig your face into the crook of his neck, you ask, "isn't your arm practically dead by now?"

it wouldn't be a surprise if it were, considering how it's been underneath you the entire night. felix doesn't deny it but he doesn't seem particularly bothered about it either, "it's fine, beautiful. I don't mind."

you, however, aren't as happy about it as you click your tongue. "no, you're fucking up your blood flow."

"how do you have the energy to complain so much this early?" felix questions again. he complies though, but no more than shifting his arm upwards. your head ends up resting on it, the slight change in weight easing the pressure just enough.

the rain has grown heavier as it hammers against the glass of the window. the occasional noise of thunder shatters from the clouds a bit harsher. the bedroom is still chilly outside the covers but with you curled up underneath it, it really doesn't matter. the tasks you have to do stay lingering in the back of your mind but you can't find it to be as important anymore as long as you remain in the comforting hold you're wrapped in.

after suffering through an unusually exhausting week, you can't remember when the last time was that you felt as calm, serene even, as you do in the current. felix seemingly feels the same as he, after a while, murmurs against your hair, "do your paperwork tomorrow."

"felix, you know I want to get stuff finished as soon as possible," you sigh.

"it's not due until another, what, two weeks? I'll help you with it tomorrow." he pauses, only going on once you can't find it in yourself to protest. "let's have take-out today. we can go shopping tonight, I know you like late-night shopping anyway. besides, you're picking up your stuff in the same store, right?"

you can't help chuckling against his neck. while answering, you reach your arm around his frame, fingers tenderly running through his hair, "what's with you today? you're oddly clingy."

felix moves back just enough to see you and sighs. "it's been forever since we had time for this. let's just stay like this today."

you know it's true and you know you've missed this as much as he has. the longer you think about it, the more you feel yourself give in. however, when you decide to hum, looking like you're still considering it, the frown reaching his features immediately purs you in defeat. thus, in an airy laugh, you answer, "fine. paper work tomorrow and shopping tonight."

faster than you've ever seen it happen, felix breaks out in a wide grin, the corner of his gleaming eyes crinkling up. with your free hand giving his chest a light slap, you snort, "you look like a happy kid on christmas."

"well, I mean..."

curiously, you pull back to get a proper look up at him. felix just keeps smiling at you and for a short moment, his hand slips out of your shirt, reaching to tenderly cup your cheek.

"that's because..." he begins in a silent murmur before slowly leaning in, lips locking with your own. you melt under the touch and before long, you can feel him smile against you as you willingly respond to it.

the kiss is far from the first time. it's heartfelt and pleasant, your lips slowly moving against his leading it deeper for each second passing and yet, it conveys nothing but the purest of feelings held for the other.

you're barely aware of when or how it happens but in one way or another, you end up on top of felix, legs straddling his waist. even then, you don't part. you don't part when another unexpected roar of thunder surprises you, nor do you part when he laughs at your starled reaction.

it's only once you're both out of breath and in almost desperate need of air that you finally break the kiss. as you sit up, the hands humble on your cheek and thigh leave to intertwine with your own.

gently swings your hands from side to side, the most fond of a look spreads across his face; what does feel like it's the first time is the beating in your chest tapping harder against your ribcage and cheeks almost burning; affection in the cleanest sense of the word lacing the sweet confession emitting from felix,

"that's because I love you."

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On  Ch 5: Chilli Fries and Appletize

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

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

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

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

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

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

“Fuck!”

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

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

“Honey what’s wrong?” he frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crisis averted” she nodded.

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

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” he stopped to look at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?” he asked.

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

“Short notice pal.”

“Yeah but you owe me so pull some strings”

“I owe you?” Jake snorted “What for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll make it up to you.”

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

“Bow job?”

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

“Sailor, I know I can.”

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

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

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

“What?” she asked.

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

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

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

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

“Don’t blame me…”

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

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

“Not on purpose!” he looked at her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bean’s moving again…”

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

“I can’t feel anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You all worked up baby girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ok?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, thanks.” he said.

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

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

“My hero!” she grinned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****** “What do you think?” Fliss asked, giving a twirl. With the help of the assistant in the little independent Mother and Baby boutique shop they’d stumbled across, aptly called “Bump In The Road” she’d chosen a maxi dress with a pleated tulle overlay in stripes of bright pastel pink, orange, lime-green, purple, yellow and blue. The top half was a baby pink with spaghetti straps which crossed at the back and It had a plunging V-neckline which complemented the fit and flare silhouette which meant the skirt hung comfortably over her lower body but still made her feel sexy enough thanks to it accentuating her cleavage...which, to be fair, she’d noticed when trying the dress on, was a lot more noticable now thanks to her boobs being swollen.

Frank’s eyes took her in and he smiled, nodding approvingly.  “You look beautiful.” he told her honestly, and she flushed a little, twirling in the mirror.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you did, it was back there.”

“We’re not going home.” he said simply. She frowned.

“Where are we going then?”

“You’ll see.”

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

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

“Yup.” he nodded turning to face her. “I packed us a bag this morning whilst you were at the yard, Mary’s staying with your parents as is Thor and I suspect Fred and we have a dinner reservation at 7 for the Oyster Catcher, which is on the bay at the back.”

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

“Jake.” Frank said simply “Come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok so you’re on the 5th floor…” she said nodding, “Room 512. Take the elevator to the 5th floor go right out of the elevator and you’ll see it on the left hand side. I’ll have your bags brought up

Frank thanked her and they both headed off following the directions. Frank led Fliss out of the elevator an down to the room, opening the door to let her in. The room was large, with a huge king bed in the middle and a large TV on the wall, and a balcony overlooking the bay. But what caught Fliss’ attention straight away was the 4 pack of beer on the small table and the large bottle of Apple juice for her. She nudge Frank and he gave a snort as she walked over to it and picked up the note attached to it.

“Enjoy the room on me pal, well, my Employee Free Stay points anyway…sorry about the balls.” she read aloud as she turned to him and Frank rubbed at his neck, “I’m not even gonna ask what that means.” “Yeah, probably best” he grinned, and then there was a knock at the door. Frank opened it and in walked the bus boy with their luggage, setting it down for them before Frank thanked him, slipped him a ten and he headed out.

Fliss looked at the overnight bag and then frowned “What did you bring me to wear to dinner.” “Nothing” Frank said, before he grinned and picked up the bag from the boutique. “But I got you something before.” “That’s for the wedding.” She looked at him, “Although I could wear it twice…” “No, check in the bottom.” he insisted. She frowned a little, before she took the bag and set it down on the small table, before she let out a gasp as she pulled out the lemon yellow dress she’d tried on before.

“You bought me both of them?”

He nodded.

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

“I know but I wanted to.” he said, stepping forwards his hands dropping to her hips. “I figured it would be nice for us to have some time together, just the two…well…3…” he grinned, nodding to her bump “of us.” “Thank you.” she said, looking up at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

Once they’d unpacked their overnight thing, Fliss headed for a shower and emerged a little while later in a robe and Frank walked back in from where he’d been on the balcony with a beer, having fired a thank you message to Jake. He smiled at Fliss and headed to shower himself, coming back about 5 minutes later also wrapped in a robe. They sat out together on the balcony talking for a little while as Fliss pretty much drank the entire bottle of juice before she announced she was going to get ready.

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

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

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

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

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

Frank shrugged “According to that.”

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

Before she could reply the waiter came back to take them to their table which was on the large veranda at bay level. He left them alone for another 10 minutes before returning for their order. Frank raised his eyebrow as Fliss ordered the fishcakes to start and then the Lobster tail for main, not that he cared how much it cost, he wasn’t worrying about that tonight. With that in mind he went for the same started but then the surf-and-turf option, with a fillet steak.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this.” Fliss said, reaching out over the table, her hand tangling in his. “Just had a meal out, the 2 of us.”

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

“Probably before Boston actually.” she mused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, yeah, I do too…but you know full well what I mean.”

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

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

“Me neither…” she whispered.

*****

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

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Sweetheart…” he said gently, pulling her to him as his hands wrapped around her back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit down, sit down!” she ushered Fliss and Frank to the outside table on the decking, where Frank moved a chair back for Fliss, dropping a kiss to her shoulder. Steve and Mary padded over and Mary wrapped herself in a towel whilst Steve moved over to give Fliss a hug, causing her to squeal as he was wet. Mary hopped onto Frank’s knee and gave his cheek a peck and then squished his cheeks together as she often did, making him jerk his head out of her reach before he blew a wet rasberry on her neck, causing her to shriek and pull away.

Bill appeared a short while later, smiling at them all as he took a seat at the table, an envelope in his hands. He paid it no attention though, simply setting it on the table. They talked for a good 10 minutes or so, Fliss telling them all about their hotel and meal before the conversation turned to chatter of house hunting and how they needeed to step it up a notch really if they wanted to have a place before Bean was born, at which point Verity and Bill shared a glance and Bill cleared his throat

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

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

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

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

“It is kiddo, but you can stay.” he said, before he took a deep breath and leaned forward a little “Ok, so you know I handed the business down to Steve when we left England.” “Yeah…” Fliss looked at him as Frank’s eyes flicked to Steve who was lounging back in the whicker chair, smiling softy.

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

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

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

Fliss swallowed, speechless, as she handed the paper to Frank who took a deep breath, gulping as he saw the amount.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank groaned as Bill, Verity and Steve all sniggered and he shook his head at Mary who stuck her tongue out at him.

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

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

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

“You bet Sailor…”

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

“Actually, that would be kinda cool…”

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

“See, Fliss want’s a pool…”

“Mary, for God’s sake…”

“Ok…Bean wants a pool” Mary grinned as Fliss looked up at Frank with a shrug and a smile.

“It would be kinda cool...” she said softly. 

Frank simply snorted and shook his head. 

[imagine-loki]

I signed up for this, too

TITLE: I signed up for this, too

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her. RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: So… I had written the original one-shot for this imagine (Related to previous OS: I signed up for this) and then realized that I kind of wanted to give the story a little more depth. And so I wrote one little follow-up to resolve some of the questions I had in my head. It went wherever it wanted to, to be honest.

As far as warnings go, some language, mentions of abusive relationships, the horrid sensation that not every win is going to feel like a win, a dumpster fire human being (who totally deserved the blaster punch), and some awful logic.

= The local healer had said it was a muscle sprain, but Loki was pretty sure it was some absurd form of penance Stark had conjured up. Of course, even though he wanted to blame most of his sufferings on Stark, he had told Loki to take the day off and rest. But how could he rest when he had so many items left on his to-do list?

“Look, Rock of Ages, taking a breather won’t immediately turn you back into a baddie. I think you can rest your shoulder today and get back on the horse tomorrow without the stars falling out of alignment,” Tony argued over the line, choosing to ignore the pained grunts on the other end as Loki tried to put his jumper back on. “Are you even listening to me, Lokes?”

Loki rolled his eyes, glad that the man of iron was nowhere near him to see the expression. “Not at all. Obviously.”

“Take. The day. Off.”

A long stretch of silence passed between them before Loki deigned to answer. “I can’t, Stark.”

Tony made a clever sound on his side. “Meaning you have Charlie on your rotation today. Is that it?” Another beat of silence rang through the line. “Ugh, fine. Go to Charlie’s, but you go straight home, afterwards. You can’t be running yourself ragged. That isn’t helping anyone.”

“Fine. As you wish.” He did not sound pleased with the decision, but last time he tried to overwork himself, Stark sent a flight suit for him and locked him in a room of the Tower until he fell asleep. He wouldn’t put more severe measures past him, either.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Someone has to make sure you don’t kill yourself.” Loki grunted, having heard him before Tony sighed. “Grab some mint chocolate chip ice cream on the way. That’s her favorite.”

Another grunt and Loki stood from the medical cot with a frown. As long as he didn’t try to move his right shoulder in any meaningful direction, he didn’t feel like screaming in pain.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from shouldering several heavy, reusable grocery bags on that same painful shoulder when he was on his way to Charlie’s. He told himself that she was likely low on groceries again, though he knew that he kept her pantry and refrigerator overflowing in food. Whenever the mental image of his first meeting with Charlie floated into his mind, her face gaunt and pained, hoping death would sweep her off before anyone was the wiser, sent full-body chills through his system. Loki was not eager to repeat the experience. He had sworn to it in his heart.

Not that their relationship had gotten any easier.

Charlie, for the most part, was still weary of him; maybe even resented him. Stark had told him how smart she was, how good at her job as a web developer–something she could no longer do. She had a knack for getting things right the first time around. Which was particularly frustrating now when she felt like nothing ever went her way.

Loki knocked on the door, calling her name. He refused to continue using the greeting Stark furnished him with, and he had a sneaking suspicion Charlie preferred its disuse, as well. There was no answer.

When he opened the door, the apartment was seemingly empty. This wasn’t a rare occurrence. He put away all the groceries as quickly as he could, including the ice cream, and continued further into the home.

“Charlie.”

His ears prickled, and he twisted the bedroom door open to let himself in. Charlie was there, but not in good form. She was sat on the ground, with her mobile in hand and tears streaming down her cheeks. This wasn’t dainty or delicate–ugly crying, she would call it later. This was full-on, couldn’t-catch-her-breath, chest-wracking, head-pounding sobbing. Loki was surprised with how wide her mouth was and how much air she seemed to swallow that it was relatively quiet. Like if she were used to suffering in silence. The thought made him uncomfortable.

“Charlotte, darling, what is going on?” He hesitated placing his hand on her shoulder, though he had kneeled down beside her for that express reason. He was a monster. That wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t fix it. Gritting his teeth against the sour taste of bile in his mouth and the unwanted voices in his head, he shushed her quietly and tentatively touched her head.

Sniffling, Charlie leaned into Loki’s frame, causing him to lose his balance and land on his bum on the floor. She didn’t seem to mind the tumble, and even gripped his midsection in a vice while she sobbed. “Someone… call… charger… can't…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know…,” he trailed off, opting instead for smoothing down the cinnamon curls that looked to be in need of a brush.

“My charger.”

Loki’s nose scrunched up as he thought for a long moment. Whenever he felt like he no longer had to play charades to understand her, she went ahead and proved him all sorts of wrong. It shouldn’t be this difficult, honestly. “Your charger?” He felt her nod against his chest and the corner of his lips lifted reflexively. He sometimes wished he could capture these small, innocuous, sweet moments so he could keep them in perspective on days when she was having none of his attempts. He supposed he could take a picture with his mobile– “Oh. The charger for your mobile device? Is that it? You can’t find it?” Another nod against his chest. “I thought it was something serious. I was contemplating how much longer I would have to do chores for committing manslaughter for you.”

Charlie let out a surprised chuckle. “That’s not funny.”

“You laughed, anyway,” he pointed out with a smile he knew she couldn’t see. “Tony swapped out your chargers for wireless. There’s one on your bedside table by the lamp. You just need to lay your phone down. I told you about this last week.”

“I panicked.” Her voice and expression were both sheepish.

“It doesn’t do you well to panic.” The line was well-rehearsed, as often as he said it.

“Someone was calling,” she explained, brow furrowed into a tight frown.

“Even then, dove.” He started to maneuver them so they could get off of the floor, though his shoulder screamed from bearing her weight, bridal-style.

“It was Ben.”

“Oh.” Loki stilled, just short of putting her down on the bed. “Do you want to borrow mine? You could call him back.” The offer physically pained him, like an unnecessary tourniquet around the arteries of his heart that he would attribute to his utter hatred for the man. He managed to set her down on the corner of the bed before he looked for his own mobile in his pocket. He exchanged hers for his in her hand and put hers on the charging station.

“No! He left me, Loki.”

“He left you because of me.”

Charlie was glaring into the nothingness before her, looking rather irate. “No, he left me because of me. Because he didn’t want to deal with a blind girlfriend,” she grit out.

“I made you blind.”

“No, the Chitauri made me blind, you’re just the idiot being played who opened the door.” This was not the first time they had had this discussion. Every time they did, she showed Loki the human being’s capacity for forgiveness and his proficiency for being a fool. She was too kind.

“Charlie, you–”

“I’m not going to argue about this today, Loki. So, for all intents and purposes and ease of understanding, just assume I’m always right.”

Loki smirked, despite himself. Her response was a little more heated than usual, but it didn’t lack the certain bit of cocky humor he was used to seeing from her. “Whatever you say.”

Her shoulders slumped, though she seemed calmer. “Could you make me some tea?”

“Of course,” he replied, almost excitedly. Charlie didn’t tend to ask for favors and when she did, it felt like he was earning just a little bit of the trust she placed in him. “I’ll braid your hair after. You’re looking a right mess,” he teased. Even though she glared in his general vicinity, she allowed him to take her hand and bring her to her feet.

“Do you think I should call him back?”

Loki stopped cold, causing her to bump into his side. In one swoop, he pushed Charlie behind his frame and tensed. “I don’t think you have to, Charlotte.”

Standing at the kitchen island, glancing around the flat with interest was a man, a couple of inches or so shorter than himself, who Loki recognized from the dozens of photos he had put away in weeks prior. At the sound of their voices, he had turned to face Loki and Charlie and the gentle brown gaze turned so poisonous Loki had trouble breathing. He didn’t look particularly dangerous. On any other occasion, with his magic, the man would have been an easy feat to get rid of, but now… he was no better than a garden variety mortal. With a muscle sprain, at that. And a crippling sense of self-doubt.

“Get the fuck out of my house right now!”

Loki started, and he immediately felt Charlie grab a handful of his jumper and hold him close. “It’s alright. I have you,” he muttered. Her head popped out from around his large frame, as though she intended to peek around him.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” The man seemed no kinder when directing himself at her.

“This isn’t you house,” she replied, voice uneven.

“What have you done to her? I swear to God that if you’ve touched her, I will strangle the life outta you,” Ben growled, every step he closed in with causing the floor to tremble with his rage.

Charlie pulled Loki tighter. Her breathing was now coming in shaky pants that blew against the fabric of his jumper and tickled his skin. “Please, don’t let him near me.”

Loki half-turned, expression etched in concern. There were unshed tears building up in her eyes and her usually warm, caramel complexion looked pale and pasty. “Charlie, are you afraid of him?” She gave an uncertain nod. “Did he hurt you?” She didn’t reply, but the way her shoulders tensed and she lowered her empty gaze was answer enough. A growl ripped from his throat. “Lock yourself in the bedroom. Now. Call Tony.”

He barely waited for a response before he was strutting his own earthquake towards Ben. The other man’s eyes widened slightly at the oncoming Asgardian. Loki quietly swore that he would rue the day he decided to mean harm to Charlotte Camden. He would regret every single moment he had intended to roughhouse himself back into her life, as if he had not left her to slowly kill herself in the first place. Mostly, he was going to make him think twice about squaring off to a demigod who had spent his formative centuries fighting men several times burlier than him.

Sure, he was no better than a mortal, but his anger was transcendental.

Bam! Crash!

The blow had left Loki’s arm jarring and sent Ben in a crumbling heap to the floor. He breathed through the pain caused by both the sprain and the Nanny Cam, as Tony called it; a small sensor that could detect when Loki was doing something unsavory, like fighting outside of a gym, and sent a set of shocks through his system. It gave Ben the chance to scramble to his feet and spit blood onto the floor.

“So, is that all you got? Is that why you needed the aliens? Because you’re such a pussy?”

Loki made a noise of distaste. “Midgardians and their misplaced sexism. Is that why you felt justified to hurt her? Because you thought her the weaker sex?” He scoffed. “My world touts female warriors that are any Midgardian villain’s worst nightmare. You don’t offend me.”

“No, monsters don’t get offended, do they? They just refuse to die,” Ben snarled, lunging for Loki, who ducked last minute and crashed onto the floor with a hiss of pain.

A boot nearly went through his eye socket a moment later, before he rolled away. He had to fight both Ben and the sizzling at his nerve endings as he put the man in chokehold, praying to every deity he knew, anyone who would listen, for him to be able to subdue the other man before he himself passed out from pain. Ben kept driving his elbows into Loki’s ribs, causing his grip to falter and the process to start all over again. With one last burst of strength, Loki tightened his hold until his muscles nearly locked into place. It was a few seconds before the body in his arms went lax and he dropped the other man onto the floor.

Tony burst in the door a second later.

“Took you fucking long enough,” Loki panted, doubled over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“You good, Lokes?”

He shook his head, though that wasn’t helping the fact he had started feeling dizzy. “It burns. My whole body. Burns so much.”

“Oh, fu– FRIDAY, deactivate Loki’s Nanny Cam.” Loki let out a gasp and dropped to his knees, letting out a sob of relief as his muscles stopped warring against themselves.

“Loki?” Charlie sounded worried as she called from the bedroom.

Loki bit back a groan. “I’m coming, Charlie. It’s alright. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

She appeared at the doorway a moment after, lip quivering. “You’re lying.”

Tony looked sympathetic. Loki was having a hard time summoning the will to tell him to wipe the endearing look off his face as he glanced between them. “He’s OK, Cee. He just needs to breathe it out for a sec.” Stark suppressed an impish smile. “Do you want to help him to the couch?”

Charlie nodded, making a perfect beeline for him. Loki would have laughed at the occurrence had it not been for the searing heat in his lungs. The woman made her hardest effort to pull the much taller Prince to his feet and then felt her way to the living room. They dropped awkwardly into the sofa. Loki found the feeling of her hands clumsily searching for wounds sort of soothing. When she met no sticky patches of blood and no places where he stifled pained gasps, she sat back a little more relaxed.

“Is he still here?”

Tony had just cuffed Ben and was waiting for the proper authorities to come collect him. "Yes, but he won’t bother you. Tony has him.“ Charlie squeezed him as tight as she could and Loki felt his words become muddled with his chaotic thoughts. "I don’t deserve this.”

“Shut up.”

“He’s right. I’m a monster. I can’t fix you. This will never be enough.”

“Shut. Up.” She squeezed tighter.

“Charlie…”

“I’ll feel inclined to demonize you when you start hitting me for bumping into things like he did.”

“He did what?” Tony roared and Charlie started. Loki’s hand on her back settled her erratic pulse.

“That doesn’t justify me.”

“No, but it justifies me.”

Loki ripped his gaze away from the woman hugging him, forcing himself to focus on the limp body on the floor, instead. He could feel his brain justifying a million and one ways of torturing the cretin. He would enjoy it, making him scream in pain, but he had the feeling that Charlie would protest. After all, she had been mourning his departure just a few weeks ago. The vermin suddenly shifted as he stirred awake and blinked confusedly at Stark. 

“Tony?” Ben asked weakly, before the whine of his suit blasters filled the air and Tony sent a super-powered punch into his face.

“Oh, shit. I’ll be right back.” Loki peeled Charlie’s arms from around him and pressed a kiss to her crown. He scrambled to pull Tony back. “No. No, no, no. Not worth it. Ton-Tony! Stop.”

“Let go of me, Black Parade. I’m gonna fucking to kill him.” Loki hissed at the strain he was putting on his shoulders again, as he held Stark in a vice until he settled. “He put his hands on her and I’m going to return the favor.”

“No. Let him rot. Possibly with a cell mate who needs a punching bag.” Tony grumbled, prying free, though he stopped the assault. “Could you take the trash out, now? I don’t think he needs to be here a moment longer.”

–

Loki and Charlie sat on the floor of her living room some time later. Her attitude was bright–Loki would even go as far as to call it chirpy. It was as if a weight had been taken off of her shoulders. She held a steaming cup of tea, a blend of Loki’s own devise, and sipped noisily as his fingers handled the tresses of her hair with care and efficiency. The overly complicated plait, fifteen strands altogether, looked impressive as he tied off the end in a small elastic.

“There we go. All done. Alright, Charlie?” She hummed her agreement and nodded, busy taking another noisy sip. “Ever the lady.”

“Ever the lady,” she mocked back, imitating him and laughing at the fact she could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “How’s it look?”

“It’s good. It’s brushed.”

“Yeah, but, how does it look?”

“Oh.” Loki faltered shortly, feigning to fix a strand here and there to buy himself some time to order his thoughts. “Well, your hair is light brown, cinnamon, and glossy. Very curly. Quite soft, too.”

“Yeah, it’s called conditioner, greaseball,” she teased easily.

He chuckled, shoving her the lightest bit forward in response. “I started with a single braid in the front of your head, and started adding others a third down until they all joined near the back of your skull. Then you have a fifteen strand braid running all down your back.”

“What? Too lazy to go for 21?” She had reached back and was feeling the intricate knots with her fingers

“I’m not sure you can sit still long enough for 21 or 28, though you would look–” He wanted to say pretty, but it felt too wrong on his tongue. “–darling. Like a puppy in a sweater.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was quieter and he assumed it wasn’t for the braid.

“Don’t thank me. You have nothing to thank me for. I only did what was right.”

“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to stop being so glum and penitent. Whoever wants to forgive you, already did and the rest don’t care enough to change their minds.” She sighed, putting the mug down with a soft clink. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’m glad you're–”

“Don’t! Don’t say it, please.” His voice shuddered, as did his whole form, especially when Charlie, with all the care in the world, turned around in her place and reached for him until she gripped his jumper. His green eyes were internalizing every detail of her overly concerned expression, from the frown on her lips to the little notch that formed between her brows as they pulled together. “Charlie.”

“Loki of Asgard, god of Mischief and burdened with glorious purpose, I’m going to tell you a really terrible fact and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

For a moment he nodded, before he remembered that though her hazel eyes looked lively, they could not see him. “And what’s that?”

“When you brought the Chitauri and I–you know… In a backwards way, you saved me.”

“Charlotte, I–”

“I wouldn’t have escaped, otherwise. It didn’t start with me going blind, but I suspect you know that now. I will live because of your hare-brained plots.” Her hand had glided up his arm to his neck, and stopped at the curve of his jaw. “Not that I’m saying anything you did was right.” She patted him gently with a ghost of a smile on her face. Her touch burned him in his inadequacy.

“Why are you telling me this?” He managed to choke out, as he covered her hand with his, reveling in the ache it made him feel.

“Oh, buddy. The answer to that is really fucking complicated.” She chuckled. “But, the short of it is, as it turns out, I signed up for this, too.” If she minded the tears catching on her fingers, she did not mention it. “So, what do you say? Can we help each other out? Be friends?”

“Yes, please,” he replied breathlessly before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in tight. From within the cocoon of his embrace, she giggled, but otherwise remained still until he settled down. For the first time in a while, Charlie ate without complaint, Loki felt at peace with himself and they both ate a whole gallon on mint chocolate chip ice cream by the spoonful on the couch.

[thetransguard-archive]

I really have a hard time with ao3's interface, would you mind posting your fic on here so it's more accessible to me personally? I understand if you don't want to, have a lovely day!

of course, it’s not a problem! putting it under the cut because it’s kind of long 

tw: canon temporary character death (nicky’s shooting), mild temporary amnesia, graphic description of canon typical violence

all the little lives

Later, Joe chalks it up to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the same purpose that has carried him, exhausted and aching, up and up and up, through the sleek building to carry out Andy’s strategy. So it’s only when he offers the end of the rope to Nicky to tie around his arm, and the green eyes that stare back at him are blankly confused that he realises.

“São Pau-” but he doesn’t let Booker finish his sentence, doesn’t want Nicky stammering apologies for things beyond his control. So he cuts in, “I’ll make the entrance this time.” Loops the cord around his forearm a few times, tightens it. Swaps out his gun for Nicky’s. He has less ammunition in this one, but it’s bigger and louder and here his role is not to attack effectively, just to put them off balance, even for a moment. As he pulls away, Nicky’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The tips of his fingers are still terribly cold.

Joe looks from Nicky’s solemn face to Booker’s. The guilt in him pours from his eyes, the slant of his mouth, the set of his shoulders. Pity and pain wage war inside Joe’s mind, but right now there are bigger things to take care of. They don’t need words, not after two centuries of brotherhood.

I’m trusting you, for this. For now. Keep him safe.

He waits three seconds after the fire door slams shut behind them to smash through the window.

--

In the elevator down, his eyes can’t stop drifting to Booker. He’s standing closest to the doors, gun gripped tight. Joe doesn’t want to bore holes in the back of his brother’s head, but he can't help himself. He can’t stop wondering. When? When? At what point did Booker decide that whatever family they had all built together, was never going to be enough? That night a decade or so ago, when he’d smashed the night’s wine bottle in a drunken rage and screamed at Andy and Nicky and him until Joe had cried? Or even before that, the last job in Russia in the seventies, when he refused to speak at all? When they’d laughed over Andy’s baklava? At what point had Booker decided that a chance of true, final death was worth the rest of them?

He feels the beginnings of tears in the backs of his eyes and before he can scrub at them to push them back, he feels a warm hand on the small of his back. Nicky. He refocuses on that small pressure, on the taste of blood in his mouth, the weight of his boots. He breathes, and does not cry. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in tears, but right now he needs to keep a steady head.

There’ll be time later.

The gunshots are faint but Nicky still jolts, pale eyes latching onto the ceiling. When the elevator doors open, he sprints, pushing past Booker. Joe’s not far behind, and they help Nile out of the car as her joints snap back into place, muscles reforming around shattered bone. Bonds made in blood, in pain. In love. Joe meets Nicky’s eyes through the dash mirror as they drive into something new.

--

They stop, after a while, because Andy’s still woozy from blood loss and the shock of actually feeling the physical pain through to its entirety. She and Joe swap, and after a brief argument in which Andy increasingly slurs her words in a way that’s alarming to all in the car, Nile takes her place in shotgun. Joe looks back after maybe half an hour and finds their fearless leader drooling a little on his beloved’s shoulder. Nicky’s drifted off a little too, days of almost constant pain catching up to him. They’re only human, after all. Some small selfish part of Joe wants to swap out and let himself nap too, but Nile’s new and has just taken a swan dive out of a skyscraper and doesn’t even know where to go, really, and Booker...

Logically, Joe knows that there’s no chance that Booker would drive them into another trap, another capture. This was his only plan, and he’s shed blood to make it right, however immediately. But this new sting of pain and horror is brand new and fresh in his chest, so he keeps driving, and ignores the way Booker’s eyes keep flicking to his in the mirror. Doesn’t acknowledge him the way Nicky has been doing, but for a different reason. Nicky retreats, when he’s angry- the problem shrinks in his mind, becomes somewhat invisible. His eyes slide over the issue like a river over a rock until it’s eventually worn away. His rage is deep and slow to dissipate. But for Joe? If he lets himself go, he knows exactly the type of venom he’s capable of spitting. And it’s as Andy said. Now just isn’t the time.

So, he drives.

--

Somehow between one blink and the next, they are at the safehouse. It’s almost dark now, the deepening sky wreathed in purples and blues in a way that makes him itch for his paints. If he had the energy for it. He feels worn down to the bone. Joe is just uncurling his aching fingers from the wheel, but Nile is already out of the car, stepping around to shake Andy awake. So young, for all of this already, and stronger than all of them. She’ll be the best of us. Most days he feels fine, is able to keep all of that time packed away, out of sight and out of mind. There’s always something new to see, to experience, to love. Today though, he just feels the weight of all the years.

(He’s so fucking tired.)

A gentle voice to his right, that odd mix of old Ligurian and Arabic that they’d invented, all on their own so many lifetimes ago. He’s smiling even before he knows why.

“Yusuf, love, let’s go. Let’s go.”

He lets himself lean on Nicky, just a little, as they slouch towards the door that Nile’s taken Andy through. She doesn’t try turning on the lights, but he does, and Nile jolts like she’s been shocked when they actually flick on. Booker closes the door behind them with a soft click. Still trying to blend away into the background. They stand there in the atrium for a moment, still covered in dust and smoke and blood. The house is large and it swallows the sounds of their ragged breaths.

“Some of our safehouses aren’t abandoned churches and caves.” Nicky’s voice has gone even softer with fatigue. “Hot water works, too. The rooms have ensuites.” He doesn’t say anything else before he begins leading Joe up the stairs.

Joe, as tired as he is, is pleased to know that Nicky at least remembers these little things. It means he’s healing well.

The bedroom door locks behind them and they strip off their clothes in a pile in the corner. They’ll have to burn it all tomorrow. Now, Joe goes hunting for where they’d kept their spares while Nicky finds the soap and starts the hot water running. When he returns, Nicky is already submerged to his neck. They’d allowed themselves to splurge in buying this place, and when Joe seats himself behind Nicky there’s plenty of room to move. Nevertheless, his heart leans back, damp head on his shoulder. They sit for a moment. Soak in the quiet of it all. They’ll have to rinse themselves off properly later, but for now they let the steam pool and swirl and fill the slightly dusty bathroom.

“How much?”

Sometimes, when one of them suffers a catastrophic head injury, it takes a while to remember it all. The last time had been Booker, and he’d been blown to bits by a mine and died three more times before they could piece enough of him back together for it to matter. They’d taken turns, him and Nicky and Andy, for the few days after, filling in all the gaps that Booker couldn’t recall at the time. The memories all came back eventually, but at least there was a warning. Some things just shouldn’t be remembered alone.

Between the two of them, it had been Joe the last time things were forgotten. He’d been dead and in the process of healing before the tank had rolled over his head, killing him again. He'd awoken to a hysterical Nicky, blood all over his face and hands. Trying to piece his pulverised skull back together. He hadn’t remembered what exactly had brought him to this place, but he’d tried to wipe away Nicky’s tears, first. Always, Nicky first. That kiss had tasted of blood. When it was either of them, they usually just told tales to each other. They’d been together for all of it, hadn’t they?

There is not a single piece of his soul that he hadn’t already bared.

“Just little... Little pieces. Tell me.” Nicky has switched to Arabic, rounding out the sounds in his throat. Joe can feel the rumble of his chest, knows without looking that Nicky’s eyes are closed. He grabs the soap, starts working on what he can reach. Nicky’s sifting back through a millennium of memory. He can help speed things along.

Nicky leans forwards and Joe leans with him, lathering soap down the length of his spine. He considers. He begins, his voice a bare whisper, barely sound. Pure thought passed from one half to another.

“You are Nicolo di Genova. You are Nicholas, and Nico, and Nicky to those who love you. You are loved, dearly. You are the other side of my beating heart. You are the son to parents who did not care for you and deserve no care in return. You are the friend and brother to Andromache of Scythia, and Sébastien le Livre, and… Nile Freeman. She’s new. She saved us. He betrayed us.

We have lived thousands of lives, side by side. I have killed you, and you have killed me. Our deaths are the same. Our lives align. When that final night comes, it shall come for us both. We have walked through war, and peace, through hatred and with love, always. We hurt those who harm. We protect those who cannot protect themselves. You are good with children, and small animals. You have practised kindness until it has become the bedrock on which you build your soul.

You dream, and you think harder than any of us, because out of us you are the one who knows the danger of action without reason. You are the philosopher to my poet. You make sense of my art. You sing, when you can, and it is always the most beautiful sound to my ears, comparable only to your voice, and the beat of your heart.

You speak only when you need to. Your patience is boundless. You inflicted great harm once, on me, on my people and on others. But you learn, and you have grown. You are forgiven. You are always learning, eager for knowledge. Your curiosity is the best part of you, in my opinion. Along with all the rest.

You have purpose. You are good. Always, I love you.”

Nicky’s hair has grown back in exactly the same way it had been before Keane shot him, but the skin is tender under his wet fingers. They turn around in the bathtub, splashing water out the sides, and he feels Nicky’s hands on his shoulders now, easing away the grime.

“And you?” Nicky’s voice is breathless, teasing. Somewhere, somehow in between getting into the water and now, the weight has lifted from Joe’s bones, has set aside that grief and guilt and anger and fear. It’s still there, but he’ll deal with it in the morning. The sun will rise, as it always has, and there will be time later to card through everything and pack it away. Now, however, is cooling water and gentle fingers and cheap hotel soap from decades gone by. Now is the quiet after the storm. The house is shaken, but still standing. Everyone he holds in his heart is still here.

“I am Yusuf, I am Joe. I am yours. And I will never let you go.”

[strangerfictions]

Fight Part II

Prompts: “don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you”, “I know I shouldn’t be here”, “What’s this between us?” - Pinterest

Summary: Billy told you something that you didn’t expect while you were suffering from concussion, so you ignored it until Billy started to ignore you. With the help of Robin and Max you realize you have something to tell him too, so you make the decision to talk to him and see where things go.

Warnings: A lot of angst and a bit of fighting maybe?

Words: 2194

Read Part One Here!

A/N: Okay so I have been working on this for a few weeks now. It has taken me so long thanks to both college and the fact that I had to restart it about five times because it didn’t flow well or just didn’t feel right. This is the first time I have done a part two of a fic I have written, and I am super happy with how it turned out. This has now been sitting in my rafts for well over a week and I have been meaning to post it! Hope you all enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Edit: I had to repost this thanks to tumblr acting a bit weird but hopefully thi time it works out a little better!

It had been a week since the fight and things between you and Billy couldn’t be any more awkward. Billy still brought you to and from school but there was never much of a conversation. The night of the party was a little blurry for you thanks to the concussion, but you could remember everything he had said to you. You still couldn’t take it in, but you wanted to move on, but Billy was making that difficult for you.

It was a fresh week and you hoped that meant Billy would be back to himself. Like clockwork you hear his car come to life and you run downstairs shouting a goodbye to your parents. Before you even get into the car you can already tell Billy is still being awkward. He is sat bolt upright and refusing to even acknowledge you coming out of your house. You were sick of this and you were determined to say something.

When you get into the car you notice his black eye and split lip. You couldn’t help but wince knowing the exact pain he was in.

“Hey” Billy just nods driving down your street.

“Really? You are still being weird with me? Why are you so damn stubborn? It’s like you are going out of your way to make me feel like its all my fault when you were the one to confess to me!” You raise your voice slightly not meaning to, but you can tell from the look on Billy’s face that it has an effect.

“Fuck seriously Y/N? You know how hard this has been on me? First you beat up my fri3nds and then this shit. It takes two to have a conversation and last time I checked you didn’t put much effort in either!” You recoiled back into the seat a little as Billy begins to shout at you. You can feel your eyes begin to sting and so you turn and look out the window watching Hawkins pass by you in a blur.

“Maybe if your friends weren’t such dicks Billy, I wouldn’t have to get into a fight with them. They aren’t the ones who patch you up after every damn fight you get in are, they? They are all the type to peak in high school Billy and it looks like you’re going to be the same” Your voice cracks and luckily Billy pulls up outside school and you quickly get out before he can say anything else.

You walk towards the doors pulling them open as you hear Billy shouting after you. You run down the hall passing Steve and Robin who try to catch your attention before you go into the bathroom. You enter a cubicle and try to calm yourself down. You hear the bathroom door open and shut and the tap of shoes across the tiles.

“Y/N? You okay?” Robin calls out through the bathroom. You reach out and unlock the door pulling it towards you and leaving the cubicle.

“Yeah I’m fine. I had another fight with Billy and I just needed to calm down a little sorry.” You walk over to the sink splashing cold water on your face as Robin sits up on the counter beside.

“Again? I blame the sexual tension between you two!”

“Robin!” You were surprised she would even say such a thing.

“What? I always felt there was a little tension between you two and then I saw how he acted after the fight and I knew there was something going on there!” You nod knowing you had to tell her what he said to you. You check that all of the stalls are empty before saying anything.

“Well that night when he brought me home, he told me he liked me, and he has been really off with me and that’s what we fought about today. I brought it up and he got a little angry and so did I and we both said things we regret. As per usual…” You sit up beside Robin who has a massive smile plastered on her face.

“Wow I knew it. This is pretty big Y/N! Please tell me you told him you like him back because if you didn’t, I understand why he isn’t talking to you!” You wince at what she says remembering the night.

“I was concussed I didn’t know what I was saying!” You try to defend yourself, but you know Robin is right.

“Shit you’re right…I hate that you’re right. Can you ask Steve if he can give me a lift home?”

“I know I’m right I wouldn’t say it with full confidence if I didn’t know I was right! Yes, he will give you a lift he has no choice!” The bell rings and Robin pulls you towards your first class.

All day you have done your best to avoid Billy. You knew you couldn’t face him after everything you said. You knew what you said was wrong and would effect Billy because he already thought it was true. By last period you were ready to get home and collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of eternity, but you knew you had to apologise to Billy. Mo matter what it took.

By the time you got home both Steve and Robin had hyped you up to tell Billy that you do in fact like him a lot and that you regret everything you said. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you for everything you said but a small part of you hoped things would work out. As you walk into your house you are hit with smell of cookies. It almost as if your mom knew you were having a bad day.

“Something smells good” You say as you push the door open to find the entirety of the Hargrove family sitting at your dinning table.

“Y/N! I invited the Hargrove’s over for dinner. I was a little surprised that you hadn’t come home with Billy” You put on a fake smile hoping it will conceal everything going on.

“Oh yeah…I had to stay behind and do some work with Robin for an English report so Steve said he would drop us both home. Actually, mom I’m not feeling to great I think I’ll pass on dinner I’m going to go and do my homework” Your mom doesn’t question anything and allows you up to your room.

You get changed into comfy clothes and get started on your homework. A little while later you hear a light knock on your door. You turn around to find Max standing at your door with a plate full of cookies.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Hey…I guessed you might be a little hungry since your not actually sick” Max sits down on your bed handing you the plate of cookies.

“How did you know?” You ask taking a big bite out of the still warm cookies.

“Billy’s guilty face” You smile knowing the exact face she is talking about.

“Funny this time it isn’t just his fault. I messed up…said a few things I shouldn’t have and now I need to apologise and tell him something pretty big” You sigh savouring the taste of the cookie before swallowing.

“That you like him?” You snap your head towards Max who has a big smile on her face.

“God first Robin now you…I swear you two are literally sisters separated at birth. How did you know?”

“Intuition and the weird tension between you. It’s very obvious…even my mom has noticed it” Max grabs a cookie and takes a huge bite out of it

“Shit…I…I’m kind of surprised by that actually. I guess I should bite the built all things considering. It’s not like I have much left to lose.” You finish your cookie and grab another one.

“Exactly! I better see you getting in his damn car tomorrow morning and him smiling because I’m sick of him being in this crap mood!” You nod knowing what you have to do now.

After awhile they all leave and its just you and your parents at home. You lay on your bed and think about what to do and how to tell Billy. You can hear the lull of the TV from downstairs as you take  in the noises around you. You hear the rain hit your window as you watch as it drips down hitting the frame.

Your parents go to bed early and you decide there is no time like the present. You get u and pull on a hoodie and some shoes. Thankfully you are on the ground floor so you can jump out of your window easily. You run across the road to Billy’s house. The rain getting heavier the nearer you get to the front of his house. You quietly walk around the side to his window. As you approach you can see his light is still on and as you get closer you can hear he is listening to Def Leppard. You stop outside his window and knock lightly catching his attention straight away. He looks up from whatever he is reading. You can see him visibly sigh as he gets up to open his window. You watch as he walks towards you. You cant help but feel the nerves build in the pit of your stomach. In one swift push Billy’s window is open.

“What do you want?” Billy whispers as you play with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, but can we talk please?” You ask quietly hoping not to wake his family.

“Why? So, you can insult me again? Don’t think so Y/N” Billy goes to close the window, but you place both of your hands on the windowsill.

“I’m sorry okay! I didn’t mean any of it and it was cruel of me to say those things because I know that’s the opinion you have of yourself. It was such a shit thing for me to do and I regret it so much because I might lose you and I really cant imagine life without you. I’m sorry about fighting with your friends, I’m sorry for making you look after me, I’m sorry for not telling you I love you and I’m sorry for being such a shit person sometimes” The rain is even heavier now as you continue to confess everything to Billy.

“Shut up and get in here” Billy holds out his hand helping you into his bedroom. As soon as you are in his room, he drops your hand and walk towards his bed throwing himself onto it.

“Thanks” You mumble shifting from one foot to the other starting to feel uncomfortable.

“So, you love me?” You look up from fiddling with your fingers to find Billy smirking at you.

“Uhmm…yeah I did say that didn’t I” You begin to pick at the skin on your finger as Billy stands up from his bed.

“And do you mean it?” Billy asks as he stops in front of you. You take a deep breath in before answering.

“I mean it, but I don’t want to make things weird between us” You say quietly

“I think it’s too late for that princess” You both laugh as Billy tucks a strand of hair behind you ear.

“So, what is this between us?” Billy takes you’re hand and leads you to edge of the bed sitting down together.

“I don’t know Billy whatever it is I don’t want to get hurt” You say holding his hand in yours.

“You know I’m not like” He was right you knew he wasn’t what the rumours made him out to be.

“But if you need space, I’m willing to give you it.” You hear Billy’s voice crack a little causing you to look up to find him looking away from you.

“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you Billy!” You place your hand on Billy’s chin and tilt his head towards you. You can see the thoughts racing through his head as he begins to process everything. You are unsure on where you go form here but you hope it will involve talking to each other again.

“If you need space I…” Without thinking Billy leans forward and kisses you. You’re caught off guard and so when Billy realises you aren’t kissing back, he begins to pull away. You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him back towards you, lips smashing together. The passion between you two fills the room and the tension lifts as the kiss continues. Billy is the first to pull away to catch him breath. You struggle to open your eyes after the sheer bliss you had experienced from the kiss.

“I don’t want space either…I guess we should go about this the proper way so Y/N will you go on a date with me?” You can’t help but smile at Billy’s attempt at doing things traditionally.

“Sure” Billy pulls you in for a hug as Def Leppard continues to play in the background. And just like that everything is back to being normal.

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

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[writingwithbella]

Old Scars/Future Hearts: Salty Like A Summer’s Day

series summary; one summer. one tour. six people. touring with your older brother and the band he manages is supposed to be fun. you get to be with all of your favorite people, go to different cities, and jam out to shows every night. so why is pope so set on making your experience a living hell?

pope heyward x routledge!reader 

2.4k words (👁👄👁we really went off with this first chapter ngl)

a/n: yay! first chapter in @bricksatanakinswindow​ and I’s new fic! We are both very excited to share this with you and would love to hear what you have to say on the first chapter! this fic is definitely going to be a wild ride, but one we hope you enjoy as much as we do!

JJ Maybank sees you first.

He’s booking it across the parking lot, his hat close to flying off his head and his backpack slapping violently against his back as soon as you step out of your car. You’re too focused on tugging your charger from the port to realize he’s barreling towards you at full speed. When you finally look up, you have less than ten seconds to brace yourself before JJ is slamming into you, squashing you between him and the car.

“y/n!” he shouts, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “JB said you were coming but I said I wouldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it. You know how flaky you can be, right?”

You roll your eyes and shove JJ off of you, a grin making its way onto your face. “Fuck off, Maybank. I always keep my promises.”

Before he can answer you, another voice sounds from the other end of the parking lot in the same tone of elation as JJ. “Thank god!”

Kie’s making her way towards the two of you, a radiant smile on her face. She looks as beautiful as ever, her hair falling behind her shoulders in curls. Her skin is glowing, and her eyes are bright. You move from JJ’s grip in favor of pulling Kie into a bone-crushing hug, a small giggle escaping your lips when she gasps.

“If I had to suffer through this tour without you or Sarah, I’d go insane,” she says, moving to drink you in. “You look good, y/n. When did you start wearing so much black?”

You laugh a little, shaking your head at her. The last time Kie had seen you, you were going through your pink phase. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, really, except for the fact that it wasn’t your style. You had experimented different styles over the past few years, deciding that a mixture of pretty much everything suit you. “Just recently. I decided it’s the right vibe for now.”  

“Well, I, for one, don’t care about clothes. Let’s go back to the bus,” JJ says, grabbing two of your bags. “John B. says he misses you. Surprising, right?”

“Shut up, JJ!” you and Kie say at the same time, falling into a fit of giggles as he rolls his eyes at you.

Kie links her arm with yours, guiding you towards the tour bus that would house you for the next four months. You had been excited when John B. had called and asked you to help him manage to band on tour. Your summer was originally going to be spent in your hometown, pretending your brother wasn’t traveling the country while you worked a minimum wage job.

But this option was much, much better.

You see John B. and Sarah before they see you. You can tell right away that your brother is smitten with Kie’s best friend. His attention is fully on her, a smile brighter than the sun painted on his face. You knew your brother like the back of your hand, having watched him fall in love with girls time and time again.

“Ah, so JB is already making moves?” you ask teasingly, resting your hands on your hips.

“Sarah Cameron does have that effect on people,” Kie comments.

You snicker, shaking your head at your brother. He is a hopeless romantic through and through. You could only hope Sarah possessed some of those traits.

“I was hoping JB was lying when he said you were coming along for the ride.”

Pope’s voice turns your blood into ice. He was the last person you wanted to see – the person you were dreading seeing. Pope wasn’t nice to you. There was no way around it. For some god-awful reason, Pope Heyward fucking hated you. And because you weren’t one to back down, you reciprocated those harsh feelings.

It was exhausting being around him, always being so angry and rude. But you weren’t going to let him push you around.

You turn on your heel, catching Kie’s eye. She sends you a pleading look, one begging you to be nice. You can hear her voice in your head; C’mon, y/n, it’s the start of the tour. Let’s not do this right away.

“I promised,” you say stiffly, your eyes raking over him lazily. You ignore the tug at your heart when you see him. He always looks attractive, but today especially, he seems to have turned up the heat. He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a Nirvana tank top, and his hat backwards. He looks like a tall glass of water, begging to be drank on a day as hot as this one.

But then he opens his mouth.

“We all know how hard it is to keep your promises,” Pope says dismissively. “Kie, did you see where JB left the keys? I want to get the AC going so we don’t all heat case.”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” She replies offhandedly, gesturing towards the love-stricken boy. Pope rolls his eyes, but not frustratedly like he had with you. Rather, he seems amused, humored by the older boy’s antics. You scoff, but rather than begin the argument again, you turn to face Kie and JJ who are trying to ignore the obvious tension in the air.  

“This is gonna be so much fun!” JJ mocks, to which you and Kie laugh raucously, catching John B’s attention and breaking him out of his Sarah-Cameron-centered trance.  

“Alright, alright, calm down kids. Let’s get on the bus, I feel like I’m dying.” He pulls the keys out of one of the pockets of his cargo shorts and begins walking towards the bus. The rest of them follow after, lugging their suitcases and duffle bags behind them as if they had been walking for miles. Under his breath, Pope mutters.  

“That’s such a great idea, John B. I wonder who literally said that not ten seconds before?” You can’t help the snicker that you make at his words. He looks over at you, but before he can make whatever snarky comment had come to his mind, John B interrupts, opening the door to the bus and gesturing to the ample space within.  

Note your heavy sarcasm.  

“Welcome to your humble abode for the next four months. There’s a living room, a kitchenette, and in the far back, behind the curtain, the bunk space. Bunks are first come, first serve, so if you want a top bunk, I suggest you claim it now.” His words spark a race within the group and the six of you push and shove each other out of the way to claim your ideal bunk.  

You are reaching to seize the top bunk for yourself when a dark arm moves past you and places an olive green duffle bag on the undressed mattress. You turn to look at the owner of said arm and, unsurprisingly, find it attached to Pope, who is smiling innocently.  

“That’s my bed.” He laughs slightly, to which you cross your arms and stare him down with your most intimidating look. He laughs harder.  

“Really? I didn’t see any stuff on it saying that it was yours. No sign, no luggage. In fact, the only stuff on there is mine, so I think this is my bed. Sorry.” You can tell by the smile on his face that he is in no way sorry. But, it doesn’t matter. JJ and Kie are giving you both wary looks as if waiting for a fight to break out and this is going to be a four-month long tour. You will have plenty of time to annoy and argue with each other later.  

For now, for them, you’ll just grit your teeth and bear it.  

“Fine. I’ll just take this one. But, if I hear a single snore from you, I won’t hesitate to smother you with a pillow.” You place your stuff on the next bunk down, ignoring Pope’s looming presence behind you.  

“Fine, but one peep from you and I won’t hesitate to push you onto the floor.” You scoff.

“Fine.”  

It’s hours later that you find yourself alone with Kie, JJ and Pope having left to get either groceries or something they’d forgotten to pack, while John B is still attempting to woo Sarah by taking her to some park nearby. A sort-of goodbye to the Outer Banks before they depart for their four-month venture.  

“It’s so weird,” Kie mutters, sipping on a can of beer she’d pulled from the minifridge. The boys may not know how to pack the basics like a toothbrush or enough socks, but they’d remembered to stock every cool place in the vehicle with alcohols of all types from cheap beers to hard liquors.  

“What’s weird?” You reply, sipping on a cold beer of your own and staring out the tinted windows into the nothingness of the parking lot beyond. There really isn’t much to do on the bus when it’s just the two of you, resigning you to talking or staring—you at the outer world and Kie at her phone.  

“I feel like, I don’t know, we should all be at a dinner, celebrating us leaving for tour. Instead, we’re just sitting here, doing nothing, while everyone else does whatever. Just feels like a shitty start to tour.” You shrug, looking away from the window, and turn to face her, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in the entire time she talked.  

“Well, there’s still time for us to do all that. Maybe not a celebratory dinner, but we leave at 11 o’clock tomorrow. We could have a nice breakfast send-off.” She scoffs lightly, jokingly, and finally looks up from the screen to meet your eyes.  

“Very funny. I’m just saying, I thought tonight would be going differently, that’s all. I thought maybe we would all be sitting around a table and drinking and laughing and talking about all the things we want to do on tour. I thought we’d be trying to keep you and Pope from killing each other and be separating John B and Sarah so they didn’t try to fuck right there in front of us all. Instead we’re all separated and we’re drinking and I don’t know. I just thought things would be different.” You could definitely see where she was coming from. This isn’t how you thought tour would be starting off either, though you couldn’t say you were surprised. The group had never been very well-organized, so the idea that they are all on different pages doesn’t surprise you.  

“Well, there’s still enough time left in the day for me and Pope to start arguing again, so don’t discard that idea yet. But seriously, if you want to have a celebratory send-off, I can goad my brother into a breakfast thing tomorrow. I’m sure they’d all love to eat before the four-hour drive to Raleigh.” Kie shakes her head amusedly, looking down at the can in her hand.  

“Nah, I don’t want to force the boys to do anything they don’t want. If they want to start on a low note, that’s on them. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of group meals on the road, it’s kind of inevitable. Speaking of low notes, what the fuck is up with you and Pope?” You suspect that this was the motive behind the entire conversation—to get you to talk about Pope, but you can’t find it within yourself to be surprised.  

The tension between you and Pope has always been a point of contention within the group. No one within the group seems to know how it started, not even you. All you can remember is Pope meeting you and immediately treating you with hostility, which you returned because you didn’t know what else to do. Now, because you both possess deep friendships with every other member of the group, you are forced to tolerate each other's unbearable existences. But your friendships with the others doesn’t mean you won’t still make comments and pick fights with each other every chance you get.  

“Nothing new. He’s still an asshole and I still don’t know why. But I’m trying to be nice, for you and JJ. He just makes it so difficult. He keeps making little digs at me and stealing my bunk? He just keeps acting like a child! I don’t get it, what did I ever do to him?” Kie shrugs, but before she can reply, the door opens and the topic of your conversation enters with JJ, carrying multiple bags. At the sight of you, Pope’s expression sours.  

“Hey, so we got some basic needs for the road so we aren’t just eating junk all the time.” JJ tosses a bag to you, which you examine with an amused expression.  

“This is exclusively gas station junk food. There’s not a single healthy item in here.” JJ laughs, swiping the bag from your lap as he and Pope move past you and Kie to the kitchenette. Pope refuses to look at you.  

“Okay and? Fresh fruits would rot so fast, it doesn’t make sense to have them. At least these things will last.” JJ says, pointing at you.  

“Yeah, but my waistline won’t. We have to eat healthier, even if it means buying fruits and veggies and eating them within the day,” Kie speaks. Pope rolls his eyes, but jokingly, like he’s amused by what she said. You’re sure that if you had said the same thing that he would be going off on you or making comments. It’s frustrating to you that he held you to a different standard than his other friends.  

“I’m going to bed, guys, you all have fun,” you mutter, chucking your empty beer can into the trash can in the kitchenette and maneuvering past the confused boys. You just don’t have it in you to deal with Pope at the moment and it makes more sense for you to just remove yourself from the situation entirely rather than listen to Pope make snide remarks towards you all night.  

You dress quickly for bed and ensure the curtain is closed before you slide into your bunk, covering yourself with the blanket you had packed, not realizing the beds wouldn’t come with any sheets. You’d have to buy something soon if you were going to survive the next four months.  

As you lay still in the bunk, eyes open despite your pleas for sleep to come quickly and easily, you hear Pope’s voice cut through the silence of the bus despite its hushed tones.  

“What’s her problem?” It’s said jokingly, a mockery at your expense, but the reply you issue within the depths of your mind is serious: you are.  

taglist; @sarahcxmeron​ @northcarolinanative​

[lukatheselkie]

PruMano Week Day Four - First Kiss

@prumano-week

This is still in the cute College AU I made for this week! They’ve already kissed in this universe, so I thought I would twist this to be a different type of first kiss.

Warnings: Some cussing, giving hickeys, something that could be considered foreplay. Probably don’t read this if sexual things make you uncomfortable.

    Gilbert lays back on his bed with a groan. Everything that’s his besides the sheets is packed away, and he’s exhausted. Move out day is tomorrow, and as always he waited until the last minute to do the work. This time he’s suffering for it. There’s a soft knock at the door and he forces himself to stand, knowing it’s Lovino. He unlocks it, and opens it. Lovino smiles sweetly at him, then hugs him tightly. “Thank you for the roses! They’re beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.” He flushes, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Gilbert brings his hands up, and wraps his arms around him lovingly.

    “I couldn’t resist. After all, jou need somezing to remind jou of me over ze break. If zey vere advertised right, zey should start dying vhen it’s time for us to come back. I can’t vait to see jou zis fall. I already miss jou.” He presses a kiss to his hair. Lovino laughs, shaking his head.

    “I didn’t get you anything like that. But… I can do something for you?” This catches Gilbert’s interest. Do something? “I’m sure you’re tired from packing all of this in a few hours, right?” His cheeks tint pink.

    “Jou know me too vell.” Lovino grins up at him.

    “So that’s a yes. Go lay down. On your stomach, please. I’ll be over in a moment.” GIlbert does as he’s told, curious what he’s going to do. Maybe a minute passes, when he feels his shirt being shoved up roughly. He helps Lovino with it, then relaxes into the mattress. It dips a bit next to him, and he feels the warmth radiating from his boyfriend by his hip.

    “Vhat are jou doing?”

    “Helping,” he mumbles, pressing his hands into Gilbert’s back. Oh. That feels wonderful. And it’s working to get rid of some knots he didn’t even know he had. But it’s also making his body react ever so slightly. As long as he doesn’t think about it, he should be fine. He lets out a long sigh of content.

    “Zat feels amazing,” he breathes out, eyes flitting closed. “Danke.”

    “You’re welcome. Now shush. Let me focus.” He nods, not wanting to distract him with anymore words. It isn’t long before he’s practically asleep, lips parted to help him breathe better with half his face squished against the sheets. Then, he’s wide awake, eyes snapping open at a slightly ticklish sensation on his spine. He shoves the fogginess away from his mind, trying to place what the hell that was, when it happens again.

    It’s Lovino. Or, more accurately, Lovino’s mouth. Pressed against his spine. Gilbert wiggles slightly, letting out a whine. “I told you to let me focus.” Right. He stills, and falls silent. More kisses are pressed to his spine, all the way up to his shoulders. They get wetter now, and Gilbert starts to wonder if they’re meant to turn him on. He grabs a fistful of the sheets on his bed, pushing his hips forward in an attempt to get at least some friction. He feels the lips on his shoulder quirk into a smile, and he immediately knows this is exactly Lovino’s goal. It’s his first time giving any sort of daring kiss. It’s kind of incredibly hot. The kisses turn into harsh sucking, and Gilbert squeezes his eyes shut tightly.

    “Oh god,” he mumbles out breathlessly, gripping the sheets tighter. Lovino smirks, pulling away to admire his work. There’s a dark bruise there, and he knows it will last at least a month. Maybe two, if Gil’s lucky. He starts on another, right next to it. He’s got his hands full if he wants to leave hickeys all across the back of his shoulders. Thankfully, he’s got his boyfriend coming unraveled more and more with each one to encourage him to continue.

    When Lovino is nearly to his spine, Gilbert starts moving his hips discreetly. He can’t take it anymore! He needs moving friction. His breath comes out in slightly heavier pants than before, but he thinks it’s not enough of a change to notice. Unfortunately for him, Lovino does notice. He’s unsure if it’s from his change in breathing or if he felt him move, but now he’s sitting on his waist. “Not yet,” he whispers in his ear, nipping at the shell of it. “You can do whatever you please with me after I’ve placed these. This is too important to me not to finish.” Gilbert shudders, and focuses on the weight pressing him down.

    He can feel that Lovino has a problem of his own, though it’s nowhere near as developed. For fuck’s sake though! Him being so close to his ass makes him want more. Lovino moves back a bit to adjust himself, and Gilbert forgets how to breathe. It’s just there. If he weren’t wearing shorts and underwear, the bulge would be resting teasingly right at his entrance. He lifts himself up a bit, letting out a quiet moan when he grinds against the man on top of him. “Gilbert,” he hisses out. “Not. Now.” Despite his words, his arousal grows a bit. Gilbert hums happily, and grinds back against him again. “I can’t believe you,” he mumbles, trying to sound angry but failing miserably. “I came to give you the first back and shoulder kisses I’ve ever given anyone, and the first hickeys, and you’re too busy trying to get laid to appreciate them,” he huffs out.

    “Jou know I appreciate zem. Zey feel amazing. Zat’s vhy I’m so horny.” Lovino lays himself over Gilbert, awkwardly hugging him.

    “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He laughs quietly, then pulls away to continue leaving his trail of hickeys. He drags out the last one for as long as he can, and pulls away with a quiet pop. “There. Perfect.” He smiles at the line of hickeys. “Have fun trying to see those without a mirror,” he giggles out. Gilbert huffs and flips himself over, so he’s under Lovino still but now facing him. He notices his glasses aren’t on his face, and wonders when he took them off. Maybe when he first started giving the hickeys?

    “Can ve continue now?” He wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He runs a hand through his hair, pausing at his curl. “Can I-” He doesn’t finish the question. Lovino’s already nodding furiously. Not wanting to make him wait, he tugs on the curl. He squeaks quietly when he’s pushed flat against the mattress. Lovino runs a hand over his chest, and kisses him hard on the lips. The kiss is filled with lust, the first of its kind he’s given. He grinds down on him, pulling a moan from his lips. “Lovino,” he whines loudly. “Please, hurry.” The Italian smirks down at him.

    “I had no idea you would want to be the bottom. How cute.” Gilbert sticks his tongue out at him.

    “Shush! Just do it already,” he turns his head to the side. “I’ve got lube und condoms in ze side pocket of my suitcase. Vhen jou’re ready. If jou really vant to do zis.” Lovino smiles at him.

    “Of course I do. I love you.” He brushes his nose against Gilbert’s neck. “Do you want this? I might not be the most gentle.” The albino scoffs.

    “Jou vound me. Of course I can deal vith zat. I vant jou. Und I love jou too.” They kiss again, hearts filled with adoration for each other.

[desparikon]

Murdoc/Mac fanfic misfire #3

Murdoc is the last person standing between Mac and his plan to save the world.

Mac shook the tiny bottle, his stomach acid sloshing in unison.

It's not a date rape drug, he firmly reassured himself. OTC sleep aids. Murdoc would have a nice, long night’s sleep, and Mac would ditch his final tail. A small, but necessary, evil to temporarily get Murdoc out of the way. Nothing untoward was going to happen.

He slipped the bottle back into his jacket pocket, and took another sip of his drink, hoping the sweet stickiness would coat his stomach and settle the butterflies.

Disgusting.

What kind of message was he about to send to Murdoc, drugging his drink like that? It's sleazy, the lowest of the low. Everything Murdoc had ever done to him, and even he’d never attempted to trick Mac into ingesting something. Despite his intense, nearly overwhelming, feelings, and the opportunities, and the fact that drugging Mac would be the easy way to end his years-long craving.

No, Murdoc was bringing this onto himself. He was always too eager to make Mac’s business his own, so this time, he’d suffer the consequences. Murdoc was forcing him to make it personal.

They all were.

What part of Leave Me Alone, did people not understand? What part of I Have A Plan So Let Me Do This, jolted his friends into pursuing him around the world, in a chase that wasted time and resources, and threatened to exhaust them all to their breaking point?

Keeping loved ones safe sometimes required high risk and drastic sacrifices, and if he had to leave a trail of destroyed friendships behind him, then so be it.

Only Murdoc stood between him and finally being alone, and he had to get Murdoc to a safe distance. He couldn’t falter now. If everything went wrong, the fallout would be swift and brutal. His own survival was irrelevant, but Murdoc would absolutely not be collateral damage.

Whatever measures necessary.

Mac jumped, a hand grazing along his shoulder.

“Hello, MacGyver.” Murdoc sat back in the chair across the table, his ever present, smug smile on his face.

“Murdoc. I’m...happy to see you. Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Refuse an invitation from you? Never.” He eyed Mac’s nearly empty drink. “Though, it looks like you started without me.”

“It looked pretty.”

Murdoc leaned across the table and swiped the glass, finishing the drink for him.

“You do remember that I’ve been drinking out of that?”

“That is. Sweet. Really sweet. They need to double the alcohol in that, at least.”

As much as Mac wanted to throw back a few drinks to kill the stress, being on the run required him to be on at all times. Alcohol wasn’t an option. For now.

“I’ve been drinking out of that,” Mac repeated, stunned that Murdoc had drank out of his glass without hesitation. Flirting, or just being creepy?

“Yeah, I heard you.” “And you don’t care,” Mac smiled in spite of a sigh, “Of course you don’t. Alright. OK. Murdoc, can I get you a drink?”

“Surprise me.”

Mac appreciated the bar’s modernity in its ordering system. Using a tablet offered just enough anonymity for him to order the stereotypical girly drinks. The mermaid drink had been tasty. He had to take this opportunity to order the unicorn one. It even had little marshmallow ears; how adorable was that??

And Murdoc wouldn’t comment because he was getting the same thing.

As he pulled out his room key to scan and finish ordering, he also removed the drug bottle. Hopefully, having his back to their table made the motions of passing it to his free hand casual and undetected.

The relative emptiness of a hotel bar in the off-season, on a weekday, had the benefit of making the wait for their drinks less than five minutes. Unfortunately, that same lack of people left Murdoc with no one to watch but Mac. And watch he did, a mix of study and...admiration.

Mac rolled his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck.

He wouldn’t have that respect after this.

A glance toward the bartender warned him that their drinks were nearly ready, the finishing touches being placed. The time was coming.

His heart pounded in his chest. No room for error. No leniency for cowardice.

He turned to retrieve their drinks from the counter, popping the bottle’s cap, careful to obscure Murdoc’s view.

To Murdoc, and a future with him in it.

In the cruelest turn of fate, a passing patron bumped Mac while he poured the drug. He jerked his hand back, and spilled the remainder of the bottle’s contents onto the counter. That split second of broken concentration was all his anxiety needed to turn the situation into a high-stakes gamble. He was only about 60% sure which drink he’d drugged.

”Ta da!” Mac gracefully presented a drink to Murdoc before sitting down with his own in hand. “Surprised?”

“Only in the sense that I’m always learning something new about you. Keeps things interesting, no?”

“Cheers.”

Like cotton candy. Exactly as the pink-blue gradient advertised.

“Not bad. Better than your last drink, but this one would also benefit from being harder.”

“I ordered them without alcohol.” Mac disassembled his drink, devouring the marshmallow ears and cherry horn before licking at the icing and sprinkles around the glass’s rim.

“Oh?” Murdoc offered Mac his uneaten marshmallow, using the opportunity to rub his knuckles against Mac’s hand.

“I don’t want to end up like Amber.”

“I’m not? Seeing the connection?”

“First date, couple of drinks...I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, married to you.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “OK, that is not how it happened, but…” He poked at his drink with its decorative stirrer, the impaled cherries muddling the layers, "I guess that whole thing is proof that waking up married to me would be a bad thing."

“I don’t want to be one of Phoenix’s most wanted.”

Murdoc hummed; Mac had tricked himself into mentioning the elephant in the room.

“You’ve been doing a fantastic job of that by yourself.”

“Don't.”

“I think you’re really starting to embrace the darkness. Never thought I’d see the day where you’re the one throwing traps into your friends’ path.”

“Nonlethal, and always designed to do minimal harm.” Mac glared, and laid his hands on the table, pushing his glass out of the way before he broke it. “Unlike you, I don’t enjoy hurting people. I’m not out to maim or kill.”

“Mmm, but accidents happen, don’t they? You’re running, and you’re tired, so tired...and sometimes, the hunter sneaks up, corners their prey--”

“Stop!”

“Why, the force could’ve snapped her leg off!”

“Shut up!” Mac growled, his arm shooting across the table with intent to grab Murdoc by his coat’s lapel, but Murdoc calmly sat back, just out of reach, unfazed by the outburst.

“Yikes, what kind of attention do you want to attract?”

Mac’s eyes darted around the room, relieved that there didn’t appear to be unwanted witnesses. Yet. Their corner table only offered so much privacy.

How long did those sleeping pills take?

“And the standoff with the whole gang the other day. I was on the edge of my seat! That ‘You want to stop me?! Kill me!’ was a nice touch. Really nice.”

“I needed them to understand how serious I was about being left alone.”

“Oh, I think you got your point across. Did you see Matilda considering it?” Mac’s flinch as he hung his head didn’t go unnoticed. “No? Well, I can tell you the first shot was going into your arm, but the second...Lucky for you, she decided the hospital wasn’t close enough.”

“Maybe that would’ve been the best for everyone,” Mac mumbled.

The heavy silence amplified the sounds of Murdoc’s glass, the clinking ice, the quiet plink of the stirrer being dropped onto the table--

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Nothing better than my suffering, right?”

“Not enjoying, merely proving a point that you seem to have forgotten.”

“That I’m capable of turning to the dark side.”

“Exactly the opposite. You can’t be completely corrupted. All the chaos you’ve caused, and you’re still the same MacGyver underneath it all.”

“Have you not been paying attention? I’ve changed. This is the new me.”

“New you? No, your methods might’ve changed, but your motivation hasn’t. Everything you do is for others. This dramatic show of recklessness, of pretending to go all the way, is all to cover up the fact that you care, relentlessly. So much so that you stupidly reject everyone’s help. Even if it costs you everything.”

“Because it’s a worthy trade off to save the world! I accept the risks. I know the possible outcomes. Why can’t you, or anyone else, respect my decisions?!”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re not gonna save the world on some haphazard solo mission!”

“At least I can say I tried.”

“I’ll admit I tagged along for the entertainment—and your performance has been stunning—but I didn’t come this far to watch you turn the third act into a tragedy.”

“Then go. I sure as Hell didn’t invite you,” Mac snarled.

He stormed out of the bar, but instead of going through the lobby and up to his room, he rounded a corner into an isolated service hallway, and slammed his back into the wall, struggling to keep himself upright.

“Fuck,” Mac huffed under his breath, his entire body shaking as he forced his fists to unclench. “Fuck.”

He’d let Murdoc get under his skin, and now, his problem had gone from leaving a drugged Murdoc in his hotel room, to finding Murdoc before he dozed off in a dangerous situation. Great. He’d taken a step backwards.

Before Mac could make it back into the main hallway, Murdoc appeared, and shoved him, death gripping his upper arms, and grinding his shoulders into the wall.

Of course. Why’d he ever doubt that Murdoc would find him?

“Let. Go.”

“First, you’re going to listen. You want to put me through the paces like your friends? Fine. I’ll play. But bring it all, bring your best shot, and don’t you dare hold back, because I certainly won’t. It’s time to keep my promise to end you, wouldn’t you say?”

Mac wasn’t sure Murdoc was bluffing. He was glaring with a fury that Mac hadn’t seen since Amber had betrayed him in Colombia.

“You’re going to kill me in this random hotel hallway?”

Murdoc squeezed harder, unamused by Mac’s sarcastic tone. “We both know the fun’s in the hunt. So when I say go, you better start running, my dear. Run, and never look back. I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth. Run you down to the point of collapse. But unlike the Phoenix, I will not be called off. You won’t have peace until one of us is dead.”

“Murdoc—”

“Or,” Murdoc shrugged and released his hold on Mac, “you can take me up on the second option, which I offer only because you’re my best friend, and I like you a lot.”

Even after all his experience with Murdoc, the instantaneous mood-flip was still unsettling.

“Just tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into, Angus.”