#after the shit my aunt did after we left back in thanksgiving

[galariangengar]

💭

[hockey-fics]

Next Summer ~ Brock Boeser 

Summary: The summers spent at your family’s cabin were some of your favourite memories. When you return as an adult you discover that maybe not everything from the past was really left in the past. 

Word Count: ~5,300

Warnings: Drinking, implied smut (I guess, but it’s very fleeting and vague)

Traditions didn’t hold a huge place in your life growing up. Every Christmas you bounced from one relative’s home to another. Thanksgiving dinners almost never looked the same. Cousins and aunts and uncles would come and go, years of family dinners and holiday gatherings would go by before you would see them again. 

But there was always one thing that you looked forward to each and every year. Every summer, for two and a half months, you would drive down from your home in the suburbs to the cabin on the lake. You would get to forget about school and homework and bedtimes. You would spend all day out in the summer sun, sticky with sunscreen and bug spray. 

Your family wasn’t the only one. Each of those cabins along that shoreline would come alive. The quiet beaches would fill with children, adults on decks drinking a few hours before it became socially acceptable anywhere else. Dark nights would be brightened by campfires and beams from unsteady flashlights, held onto by kids who should have been in bed long ago. 

There was a sense of peace that was brought on by that property. Time moved slower, everyone seemed happier, things felt easier. But as time went on you started spending less and less time out there. You went away to university. You became busy with internships and jobs and leases that didn’t end for the few months of summer. 

But eventually the property lost the interest of your parents. With no children at home, familiar friends who once had cabins up there selling them off, the time and energy and money to take care of it no longer seemed to be worth it. You yourself hadn’t been there in a couple years, though the memories were as vivid as always. So when the option of them gifting the property to you came up it took little consideration for you to say yes. 

After packing your car full of essentials you headed up to the cabin shortly after the exchange of ownership. When you pull up to the familiar cabin there’s a sense of ease that washes over you, even now that you had a truckload of responsibility to go with coming up here. 

Hoping out of the car you bring everything inside, the memories flooding in. After putting your groceries in the kitchen, sheets on the bed, and pulling the patio couch cushions out you head out onto the deck to enjoy the fresh air and slight breeze rolling in off the lake. 

A few minutes after flopping down onto the patio furniture you’re greeted by a big white dog, tail wagging crazily as he stares up at you. 

“Hey buddy,” you say, reaching over and scratching him behind the ear. “Where did you come from?”

“Milo.”

Tipping your head up you look in the direction of the man calling for who you would guess to be the dog that was standing in front of you. Standing up you walk towards the edge of your deck, the dog following after you, nose nudging at your hand. “I think-,” you begin, freezing when you notice who was standing in the yard next to you. “Oh my god,” you laugh, hurrying down the stairs. “You’re still around, hey?”

You grew up with Brock. At least for two months of the year every summer. You were the same age and his family owned the property next door. The crush you had on Brock spanned from early in your life right up till the last summer you spent together right after high school graduation. 

“Holy shit,” Brock comments, shaking his head. He has his arms around you as soon as you’re close enough for him to reach you. “Of course I’m still around, I’m out here every summer. You’re the one who vanished.”

Pulling back you look up at Brock, shaking your head. “Sorry, we don’t all have an off-season.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Brock chuckles. “Just out here for the weekend then?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” you admit. “The place is mine now and I work remotely so I guess I could be out here as long as I want but I don’t know, it feels weird to think about being here that long again.”

“Yours, hey?” Brock states, glancing behind you at the house. “Are your parents okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assure him. “Just not as interested in getting drunk on the lake everyday of the summer anymore.”

Brock laughs, glancing out at the lake before turning his attention back to you. “Well I’m glad it’s yours now, wouldn’t want to see anyone else here.”

You couldn’t deny the way he still managed to fill your stomach with butterflies, even all these years. “Me too,” you say, voice quiet. Glancing down you pet the dog again that had still not left your side. 

“I see you’ve met Milo,” Brock comments, glancing over his shoulder and pointing to the second dog that was laying under the shade of a tree. “That one’s Coolie.”

“They’re very cute,” you tell him, smiling down at Milo. “How long are you up here for?”

Brock shrugs, like time didn’t mean anything to him. “Till sometime in August.”

“So I guess we have plenty of time to catch up then.”

“Absolutely,” Brock says with a smile. “You want to come over for a drink or something?”

“I’d be down for a drink.”

You follow Brock across the yard and onto the deck, accepting the can of cider he offers before sitting down on the soft cushions of one of the patio cushions. “So, what’s new in your life?”

Brock shrugs, flopping down onto the patio sectional, Milo joining him seconds later. “Not too much, I guess. Just been in Vancouver for the last while playing for the Canucks.”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Well I know that much, can’t exactly stay under the radar as a professional athlete.”

“I guess,” Brock chuckles. “What about you though, you seem to be staying under the radar pretty well.”

“Gotta keep a little mystery…or my life just isn’t that exciting, I don’t know. I got my degree, moved back to Minnesota and now I’m just working from home…living the life, really,” you joke. 

“I can’t imagine you not making life exciting.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you take a sip of your drink. “Why’s that? Because I used to steal my parent’s alcohol and try to convince everyone to go swimming in the middle of the night?”

“Well that was pretty exciting back then,” Brock laughs. 

“Are you out here alone?” you ask, looking towards the cabin. It was pretty quiet for anyone else to be here but you almost couldn’t imagine Brock ever being alone. 

“Yeah, for now,” Brock nods. “My, um, my mom doesn’t really come up very much anymore.”

“Right,” you say quietly. You hadn’t talked to Brock in a very long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know anything about his life, including his father. 

“I have a few friends coming up in a few days though,” Brock tells you, his inflection rising, an obvious attempt to change the topic. 

“Uh oh,” you joke with a playful smile. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Hey, now, I’ve never been trouble,” Brock defends, laughing under his breath. 

“I don’t know about that one,” you tease. 

The two of you sit on Brock’s deck, drink after drink as you exchanged stories from the nearly 10 years since the last time you saw each other. You didn’t even realize how long had passed or how late it had gotten till the sun was beginning to set and you realized your mind was hazy from the alcohol. 

“I guess I should get going, don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you say, finishing off the last of the drink you had in your hand. 

“You never could,” Brock tells you, taking the empty can from your hand as you stand up. “But I won’t hold you here either.”

“I appreciate that,” you laugh, glancing back to your cabin. “I should probably go figure out dinner though.”

“Fair enough,” Brock chuckles. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure you will,” you tell him, heading down the steps of the deck and back over to your own house. 

After making yourself a late dinner you head to bed, your mind unable to think of much more than Brock. It was clear that your feelings for him hadn’t entirely disappeared. But eventually you manage to clear your mind enough to fall asleep, sleeping peacefully through the night till the sun shining through the blinds in your room wakes you up. 

You make yourself some breakfast before dragging your laptop out onto the deck with your mug of coffee to get some work done for the day. It’s not long before your attention is broken by the sound of Brock’s voice, calling after his dogs as they run out the door and towards the lake. 

Smiling you watch the dogs for a few minutes as they splash around in the shallow water of the lake. When you look away from them you see Brock looking in your direction, raising his hand in a friendly wave. 

“Morning,” you call to him, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the patio railing as Brock comes closer. 

“How was your first night back out here?”

“It was great,” you tell him. “Do you want some coffee?”

Brock’s eyes shift to your laptop before looking back at you. “I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working.”

Shrugging you push yourself away from the table to stand up. “I’ve been missing the interruptions you get working in an office anyway,” you tell him with a smile. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Some cream if you have it.” Brock makes his way up the steps of the deck, sitting down at the table across from you as you return with a mug of coffee for him. “Got any plans for after work?”

“Not really,” you tell him, sitting back down and looking over your laptop at him. 

“I just bought a couple stand-up paddle boards a few weeks ago. Would you want to come test them out with me?”

“As long as you promise not to laugh at me when I fall off.”

“I promise,” Brock chuckles. “You can get back to your work if you want, I don’t want to distract you.”

“Hard not to be distracted by you,” you tell him, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Well I’m always happy to be your distraction.”

After Brock finishes his coffee he heads back to his own place, giving you a chance to actually get some uninterrupted work time in. It’s nearly 5 when you wrap up everything you had to finish for the day. Changing out of the pyjamas you had spent the better half of the day in you tug a pair of shorts over a bikini, heading across the yard to Brock’s place. 

With the garage door wide open you step into it, watching Brock doing kettlebell swings. 

“Enjoying the view?” Brock asks, looking at you through the mirror when he finishes up his set. 

“Well I can’t say I’m not enjoying it,” you tell him, glancing around the garage turned gym. “This is pretty impressive, I remember when this place was filled with bikes and beach toys.”

Brock turns around to face you, wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. “I needed to have something out here to train if I want to spend this long out here.”

“Makes sense. Well, I can get out of here to stop distracting you, when did you want to go out on the paddle boards?”

“I’m just finishing up here, I’ll probably go have a shower before we head out.”

“Do I get to enjoy that view too?” you joke. 

Brock chuckles, reaching down to pick up the kettlebell again. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

Shaking your head you take a step out of the garage. “I’ll meet you down at the beach when you’re ready.”

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Brock says as you head out of the garage. 

Finding a beach towel you head out onto the end of the dock that was connected to your yard, laying it out and shimmying out of your shorts. Laying down on your stomach you rest your head on your arms, enjoying the way the sun felt like a warm blanket cloaked over your body. 

It’s not long before you hear Brock calling your name and you roll onto your back, looking down to the end of the dock. 

“Ready to go?” Brock calls. 

Collecting your things from the dock you hurry down to meet Brock, following him to grab the paddle boards before heading to the edge of the lake. The water is surprisingly warm for July and you climb onto your paddle board with a shocking amount of ease. 

After steadying yourself the two of you begin to paddle along the shoreline, your conversation falling to quick comments here and there as you focus intensely on keeping yourself upright. By the time you make it back to the section of the lake in front of your house you’re more than ready to follow Brock’s lead and sit down on the board, floating easily on the still water. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Brock tells you. 

Your legs are crossed in front of you, arms behind you on the board as you lean back into them. “Guess my balance is better than I expected.”

“I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to see you fall in.”

“Oh, you want to see me get wet?” you joke.

“I-I, that’t…well, I mean, I-,” Brock stammers, shaking his head as he gives up on his sentence. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tease, giggling as you stretch your legs out in front of you. “What are your plans for tonight?”

Brock hesitates for a second, eyes narrowing. “Are you hinting at something?”

It takes you a moment to realize what was going on, reaching down and running your hand through the lake to splash Brock. “No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was going to see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Oh,” Brock laughs, eyes diverting down to the surface of the lake, cheeks flushing red. “Yeah, dinner sounds great.”

After putting the paddle boards away you and Brock head over to your place, digging through the kitchen to try to figure out what to make for dinner. You hadn’t really thought through your plan, inviting Brock over before you even know what you would make for dinner. 

“You’ve been in the fridge for awhile,” Brock comments, sitting at the bar counter on the other side of the kitchen, watching you curiously. 

Sighing you turn around, shutting the door behind you. “I don’t actually know what to make,” you admit. 

“I can tell,” Brock laughs. “What are the options?”

“Whatever is in the fridge,” you tell him, gesturing to it. 

Brock slides off the stool, walking across the kitchen to pull the fridge open. His eyes scan the shelves for a few minutes before slowly turning towards you. “Do you need me to go to the grocery store for you tomorrow or something?”

Rolling your eyes you push yourself between Brock and the fridge, your back pressing against him as you join him in staring into the nearly empty fridge. “Look, I know it’s bad but I didn’t plan to stay more than a night or two.”

“And were you planning on only eating eggs and spinach for three days?”

“Maybe,” you hum. “I didn’t plan to have dinner guests I would need to impress.”

“You don’t need to impress me,” Brock whispers, his hands falling to your hips. “Now will you agree to come have dinner at my place instead?”

Your mind tunes in to the feeling of Brock’s hands on your body, your heart hammering heavily in your chest. While you were so caught up in your thoughts you realized you hadn’t answered the question within a length of time that was even remotely normal. “Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

Brock steps back, his hands falling from your hips and leaving your body longing for more. Sighing to yourself you fish a bottle of wine out from otherwise bare fridge, hurrying after Brock. 

It’s not long before you’re standing next to Brock, a glass of white wine in your hand while you watch him barbecue a couple steaks. “Was inviting me over just a scheme to get me to feel bad for you and cook you dinner?”

“I wish I was that calculated.” Bringing your glass to your lips you take a small sip, gravitating a little closer to Brock. “I like how this worked out though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Brock teases, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. 

You let out a shaky breath, fingers clutching tighter onto your wine glass. With your heart racing you try to act natural, like your stomach wasn’t absolutely alive with butterflies, like your thoughts weren’t racing a million miles an hour about nothing but Brock. 

“You okay?” Brock asks, the smirk on his face was enough to tell you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so used to this aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Brock laughs, eyebrows furrowed as he looks away from the barbecue to turn his attention to you. 

“Tall, handsome hockey player who can get women to absolutely fall apart like it’s nothing,” you tease. 

“I’m not that tall,” Brock comments, pulling the steak off the barbecue. 

“Oh, but you know how handsome you are.” 

Brock gives you a simple shrug, chuckling as he picks up the plate of steak, letting you go to head back inside. Rolling your eyes you follow Brock back into the house, refilling your wine glass before leaning against the counter. 

“I’m actually surprised you don’t have a girlfriend,” you comment, watching Brock plate up the steak and salad the two of you had made earlier. 

“Why’s that?” Brock asks, setting the plates down on the table next to the large window that overlooks the lake. 

“I just told you why outside, you just want to hear me talk about how great you are,” you joke, sitting down at the table across from Brock. 

“Well I could say the same thing about you,” Brock retorts, switching the conversation around onto you. 

“Because I’m a tall, handsome hockey player?” you joke, taking another drink from your wine. 

Brock shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “Seriously, weren’t you with someone for quite awhile?” 

Nodding slowly you inhale deeply, polishing off what was left in your glass of wine. 

“That bad, hey?” Brock asks, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. 

“No…I mean, yeah, I guess, I don’t know,” you sigh, picking up your newly refilled glass. “We were together for three years in university.”

Brock nods, taking a bite of his dinner, evidently waiting for you to continue to fill in the details of your vague story. 

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you assure him with a breath of laughter. “I’m just glad it ended when it did.”

“For what it’s worth I’m pretty glad it ended as well.”

Scoffing you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head. “Why?” you ask, already well aware of why. 

“Well I don’t think I’d get to be sitting here having dinner with you right now if you were still with him.”

Tipping your head to the side you gaze across the table, a soft smile on your lips. “Does that mean there’s something more than friendly happening here, Brock?”

“I’ve had some more than friendly thoughts,” Brock admits. 

You can feel your cheeks reddening, looking down at the table. “Oh,” you mutter. 

“Sorry, I, was that too much or-.”

“No, no,” you interrupt, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Just, um, been awhile since I’ve flirted with anyone.”

“There’s no way that’s true.”

“Yes it is,” you exclaim, laughing quietly. “I honestly don’t meet a lot of new people and I don’t usually make it a habit of flirting with my friends.”

“I’m glad you made an exception.”

Laughing softly you pick up your glass of wine, taking another sip, enjoying the warm buzz the alcohol was filling you with. “Me too,” you whisper as you set it down, gazing over at Brock. 

Finally you two finish the dinner that had been nearly forgotten amidst the conversation. After the dishes are done you head out onto the deck to continue your conversation. Before long the sun is set and the bottle of wine is empty. After another goodbye that you know won’t be for long you head back to your own house, falling asleep easily to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore through the open window. 

The next few days leading up to the weekend feel busier than any days you had in a long time. After work you would join Brock for some activity or another. A trip into town to properly stock your fridge. An evening on the boat. More paddle boarding and kayaking and even partaking in a couple sessions in Brock’s home gym. 

And before you knew it you had finished up your work from the week, time seeming to be flying by now that you were spending it with Brock. 

Friday night. You hadn’t expected your Fridays to remain as exciting after leaving the city. But you also didn’t expect to be spending it with Brock and a handful of his friends. 

“Still impressed with your Spikeball skills, to be honest,” Jack says, standing next to you by the fire, a bottle of beer in his hand. You had spent the afternoon fighting to keep up in many competitive rounds of Spikeball on the beach, something you did better than even you had expected you would do. 

“I’m kind of offended by how much you underestimated me,” you laugh. Lifting your red solo cup filled with tequila and grapefruit soda wincing at the flavour, the ratio of tequila to mixer so off it would make a bartender cry. 

“Sorry, I promise I won’t do it again,” Jack chuckles. “I’ll make sure we’re always on the same team from now on.”

“Good,” you say, extending your hand to shake his on the agreement. “We can be a power duo.”

“Power couple,” Jack comments with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes playfully you take another gulp of your drink. “Pretty bold of you.”

“What can I say? I’m a bold guy.”

Before you can get another comment in you feel a hand run along your lower back, stopping on your waist. With a slight flinch you turn your head, body relaxing when you realize it was Brock, though you were still a little surprised by the physical contact. Brock places his fingers under your chin, tipping your head back so you were looking up at him. You don’t even have time to process what’s happening before he’s pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. 

“H-hi,” you stammer, voice soft as your cheeks redden. “What, um, what’s going on?”

“Just coming to check on you,” Brock whispers. 

“Shit, sorry man,” Jack mutters to Brock, nervous eyes shifting back to the fire you were all standing around. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Brock tells him dismissively. “Want to come with me to get another drink?” Brock asks you. 

With a quick nod you let Brock take your hand in his, guiding you around the fire and up into the quiet cabin. 

“Okay, what the fuck was that, Brock?” you exclaim, now in the privacy of the kitchen. 

“I-,” Brock begins, shaking his head. “Have I been reading this wrong? I thought…I thought…haven’t we been flirting since you got here?”

“I mean, yes,” you exhale. “But what the fuck was that? Why’d you choose that moment to kiss me?”

“I’m sorry,” Brock mumbles, swallowing heavily. “But you two were flirting and I didn’t want to lose you and I-.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him.” Stepping closer you reach up, your hands on either side of Brock’s face. “You have to trust that I would never do anything with your friends.” Rolling forward onto your toes you lean closer to Brock, your lips brushing against his. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Brock mutters before kissing you again. It’s longer this time, your lips moving with his as you wrap one arm around his shoulders. Brock runs one hand around your back, tugging your body closer as his tongue brushes against yours. He’s pushing you against the kitchen counter a second later, your head spinning with the mix of overwhelming emotions and the effects of the tequila. 

A strangled moan emanates from your throat just before you hear the crashing of the cabin door closing. Pulling back from Brock you stare up at him with a guilty smile, as if you were still just a couple teenagers sneaking around at the summer cabin. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam declares, taking a step back towards the door. 

“No, no, you’re good,” you assure him. “We were just, um, about to head back out.”

“Were we?” Brock asks, voice quiet as he places his hands on your hips, pulling your back into his chest. 

With a quiet giggle you tip your head back, looking up at Brock. “We can pick his back up later,” you assure him. 

Back outside you let Brock pull you onto his lap on one of the chairs around the fire. You knew it was some drunken, misplaced desire to exert the fact that there was indeed something happening between the two of you that was more than just friendly. 

The rest of the night is spent in loud conversations, rambunctious laughter echoing off the still lake. By the time the night is over and people begin trickling off to head inside you’re more than ready to have some time alone with Brock.

“I’m going to head home now, want to walk over there with me?” you ask Brock before standing up.

“Yeah, of course,” Brock replies taking your hand and walking back to your cabin. 

Inside you take Brock’s other hand, tugging him closer. “Do you want to spend the night here?” 

“Yes,” Brock replies quickly before pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you with an eagerness that you quickly matched. 

Before long the two of you had stumbled your way up to your room, the silence of the cabin being interrupted by the sounds of your moans.

Laying breathlessly next to Brock, your body flushed and tired, you can’t help but begin to worry about the implications of the situation. Was this just because you were both drunk? Did he really have feelings for you or was this all just because of the alcohol? 

After tugging some pyjamas on and using the bathroom you crawl back into bed with Brock, resting your head on his shoulder, arm over his chest. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Brock hums, running his fingers along your back. 

“Do you, um…was this, I just,” you stammer, finally pulling yourself away from him, sitting up and staring across the dark room at the slice of moonlight that was shining on the wall through the curtains. “Was this just a meaningless hook-up? Because I actually have feelings for you,” you admit. 

You feel Brock run his hand along your back, fingers curling around your waist as he tugs you back to lay next to him. “No, it wasn’t,” he assures you, kissing your temple before you settle in next to him. “I was so into you when we were growing up. Every summer since high school I’ve hoped you would show up again.”

“I don’t believe you,” you giggle. “I had the biggest crush on you back then, you can’t steal my story,” you tease. 

“Back then?” 

Rolling your eyes you reach over and take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Still do.”

“Good,” Brock chuckles. 

And just like that the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that quickly turns to a deep sleep. After that first night together the two of you grew closer, no longer just spending the days together but the nights as well. 

Every morning you would wake up next to Brock, often going for a walk with the dogs before you would have breakfast together. Then you would spend the majority of the day working at your place. After you were done your work for the day you would head over and join Brock for dinner. 

For the next month and a half everything felt easy and fun. The daily stress you normally felt when you were back at your apartment had almost dissipated entirely. You grew closer and closer with Brock, falling more and more for him with each passing day. Time had begun to slip by faster and faster, till the majority of the summer was now in the past and you were getting closer and closer to the day where the cabins would be shuttered as everyone returned to the real world. 

Laying on your couch you stare out through the large window at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. The summer was coming to an end whether you wanted to admit it or not and the grey sky was doing its part to remind you of that. Brock’s car was already packed, his place was tidied and ready for his departure. 

You have your head on Brock’s chest, your arm draped over his stomach. He’s running his hand along your back and with each passing second you begin growing closer to tears. You didn’t want to admit how much it felt like your chest was being ripped apart.

Sniffling quietly you try to blink away the tears in your eyes before Brock could notice. But you weren’t as secretive as you had hoped. “Are you okay?” Brock whispers.

Nodding you lift your head from his chest, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Brock assures you, waiting for you to go on.

“I just don’t want this to end,” you admit. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t either.” Brock wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you mumble, shuffling in your seat to face him. Taking one of Brock’s hands in yours you give it a quick squeeze, glossy eyes staring across the small distance between you and Brock. 

“Because I never meant to hurt you.” Brock reaches over, brushing away a few of the tears that had spilled from your eyes onto your cheeks. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me, Brock. I know you didn’t,” you assure him with a quick sniffle, eyes gazing down at your interlocked fingers. “I would rather be hurt now than to never have had this summer with you.”

Brock leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I just wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” you whisper, lifting your eyes to look back up at him. “Maybe we can next summer.”

Brock nods slowly, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Next summer,” he echoes as a tear slides down your cheek no longer caring enough to wipe them away, no longer fighting the sadness in your heart. Because the pain was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. But maybe, just maybe, the promise of next summer would be enough to help you deal with the sadness. 

[blackroseguzzi]

FATE part 2 💙

Colin Zabel x ex fiancé

Summery:Colin and y/n finally encounter each other in a strange twist of fate.

I sat inside my car, lighting a cigarette as I parked in front of my parents driveway. I know my mom was in there wondering why I wasn’t coming up- I just needed a moment before the shit storm was about to start.

My mother had called me that morning to make sure I got the rental car they had sent over alright. Leave it to my parents to treat me like I couldn’t do a damn thing for myself anymore.

I watched as my sister, Janice, opened the front door and walked briskly towards me. I threw the cigarette out the window, even though I knew she could smell the smoke regardless.

“Get your ass inside, what are you doing out here-it’s freezing!” She shivered into her brown coat. I smiled politely, knowing she was about to be the kindest person to me in that house.

‘I’ll be right in, just mentally preparing,” I laughed inwardly but I was really crying inside.

“Moms in a great mood, c’mon it’ll be fine.” I huffed, wanting nothing more than to turn the car back on and drive off- but instead I opened the door and exited the vehicle. My sister met me with open arms. Her hugs were always the best. She was the most amazing big sister in the world. She had the perfect husband, the perfect twin boys, and even the perfect Black lab, Buxley. God, Colin loved Buxley, and when Janice had called to tell me she had puppies last year I wanted nothing more than to have her save one of them for Colin.

She had never asked me why I had called off the wedding - she knew in her heart that I did it for my career and for Colin. She told me once that she thought I’d done a horrible thing to such a sweet man, but that she completely understood. I’m not sure if it made me feel worse or better.

We walked to the front door and I took a big breath before opening. My nephews, Alex and Reid were at the dining room table playing checkers, my dad coaching them both. They were 10 and loved board games more than anything in the world, mostly because they were highly competitive- especially with each other.

“Hey Aunt y/n,” Alex yelled from the table as I entered my childhood home. The smell of Italian food flooded my nostrils. Leave it to my mother to cook a giant Italian meal the day before thanksgiving.

My dad gave me a polite wave, and I smiled back. He sided with my mom for sure, but he also didn’t care as much about appearance as my she did.

Speak of the devil, as soon as my name came out of Alex’s mouth my mother rushed out from the kitchen.

“Finally!” She hugged me quickly and squeezed my shoulders, looking me up and down.

“You look thin- and not in a good way.” She cocks her head to the side and examines me more. “And the bags under your eyes could be designer!” She laughed at her own joke, but I rolled my eyes and shrugged her tiny hands off of me.

“I’m healthy as an ox, and I didn’t wear much makeup since I was traveling today,” I looked over at Janice and gave her the Death glare- moms in a great mood my ass.

“Janice help me in the kitchen while your sister gets settled in!” Mom waltzed back into the kitchen.

I called out that I was going to grab my bags from the car. I walked back out the front door, turned my car on and decided that Instead of getting attacked by my family any longer I was going to the police station to start on my piece on the Erin McMenamin case.

I walked into the station, shivering. I hadn’t bothered putting the heat on during the drive here, mostly because my blood was boiling from my mothers rude comments and clear distaste for me after almost two years of supposedly ruining her life. Wasn’t it my wedding I called off, and my fiancé that I left? God she infuriated me at times.

“Hey, I’m looking to speak with Chief Carter.” I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and the desk officer looked me over, probably looking at my overall existence like my mother had.

“And you are? Is he expecting you?” The officer gave me a questioning look. I know this small town, and not a lot of random people came in to ask to speak with the chief.

“Yeah my name is Y/n and he’s been waiting for me for a while,” I lied. Years in this work I noticed that telling people that you were showing up without an appointment usually got you a swift kick out the door.

“Alright, I’ll take you right to him.” The officer got up from the desk slowly. You could tell he was annoyed that he couldn’t just sit there and stuff his face with donuts all day. I smiled politely and followed him down the hallway.

“Chief, Mrs….”

“Y/l/n” I called out with a small smile. I inched myself further in front of the door, ready to put up a fight I know was coming. Chief Carter appeared at the door looking between me and the desk officer.

“Mrs. y/l/n is here for you,” he patted me on the back before walking slowly back to his desk. Chief huffed, he was wondering how the hell I’d gotten back to his office since he was clearly not expecting anyone.

“Hi Chief Carter, my name is Y/n, I’ll get right to the point. I’m a reporter for..” before I could finish Chief Carter was already closing the door. I pulled my arms up, stopping the door from slamming in my face.

“With the WASHINGTONN POST, and I think that the Mcmenamin case is the ideal case to have as much media coverage as it can get.” I finished. The door was now open and Carter looked down at me.

“We don’t need more coverage, we have our own paper here in Easttown, but thank you.” He sounded tired, and clearly annoyed with my presence.

“Look, I’ve read the papers’ piece of this case. It’s poor grammar and lack of any sort of police and detective commentary is concerning. To put it lightly, it looks like you’re doing nothing, and by the comments I’ve been hearing around town it seems like people are catching on to that.” I gave my best smile and the Chief sighed heavily.

“Alright, but what will change with this case by writing about it in the post?” Carter questioned me. He let go of the door and crossed his arms- I was getting somewhere.

“It would spread this case far and wide- I’d make sure to add your detectives thoughts and if anyone widespread knows of anything they’ll let your station know. The post is very popular, so it’ll make this case a top priority. Not that I need to say more but I’m a local from the town over- so I promise you I’ll take the best care of reporting only facts and keep Easttown in my best interest.” I wasn’t lying, this case struck a cord in the place I had once held so close to my heart. Chief Carter stared at me. He was deciding on what route to take. He finally decided on trying to slam the door in my face, but yet again I stopped it with my hands and this time pushed it towards him. I was being ballsy, but that was the only way I knew how to do good at my work. Although it wasn’t usually a police chief I was bargaining with.

“You can either point me in the direction of the case detective so I can get information from them, and work WITH you to get the most accurate story, or you’ll have one hell of an annoying reporter that won’t give up and who may or may not shine a generous light towards your police officers and small town station. Your choice chief.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he sighed. He took a few moments before speaking.

“You know, I really have a distaste for big shot reporters around my small town station. You’ve got all eyes on you from here on out. You don’t talk to the town, you speak only with our detectives to gather your information. It’s the only way I’m letting you go down that hallway to Detective Sheehan’s office. Do you understand me?” His voice was smooth, and the way he worded his request seemed like a threat. I nodded slowly and gave him a pearly white smile. I hated who I could be at times when I knew it was the only way I was going to get what I needed. I had just became his biggest pain in the ass, and I’m almost certain this Sheehan character was going to think I was just as big of an ass pain.

“Yes, Sir!” I saluted, and Chief Carter pointed me in the direction of Detective Sheehan’s office.

“There is one detective on this case from our office and a county officer that’s assisting. Marianne Sheehan’s our own, and her office is down the hall to the left - good luck.” He chuckled a bit as if he thought me going to her office was funny. Great, she’s probably an old bitch with zero interest in what I had to say.

I thanked him and confidently strode down the hallway, my dirty white converse squeaking down the hallway. I licked my chap lips and looked down at my attire. The ripped jeans and chunky brown sweater under a very old black puffer jacket was not what I imagined myself in when I took on this job. I probably should have waited until after Thanksgiving, but I couldn’t bare spending any more time than I had to with my family at the moment.

I pulled my hand up to the door, but before I could knock, a woman swings open the door angrily.

“What do you want? I can see you standing in front of the door. Its tempered glass, genius.” I already pissed her off.

“Marianne Sheehan?” I asked quietly.

“In the flesh. What do you want?” She was chewing loudly on a piece of gum. I actually felt quite comfortable in my choice of clothes after seeing what she was in. I could see the coffee stain on her ivory shirt clear as day. Plus the smell of grape vape juice could be detected from a mile away off her old plaid over-shirt.

“Chief Carter send me down here to your office. I’m here with the Washington Post, covering your case on Erin Mcmenamin’s murder.” I dug my hands into my coat pocket.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Detective Sheehan closed her eyes and sighed. I could tell she was clenching her teeth as she held the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t know if you’ve read the Easttown Paper’s take on this, but frankly I assure you I will make your department look much more invested than they have. Plus, with the internet- who even gets the paper anymore? The Washington Post will have this case spread all around the Country. I’m not here to be a lice in your hair, I’m here to help,” I knew this woman needed a drink more than she needed my speech about how I was going to help her lead the case to success.

“You can come in, just don’t be annoying and ask me 50 questions right now. Also don’t call me Marianne.” She threw her pen down on the desk and sat down. She put her head in her hands for a moment before looking at me.

“Can I at least ask you what you prefer to be called?” I laughed and sat down in front of her. She didn’t think I was funny.

“Detective Sheehan, and I suppose you’ll be following us this afternoon?” She rolled her eyes as if it was second nature to her. I smiled back, trying to kill her with kindness.

“It depends on what there is for me to write about there?” I questioned her. She sighed and told me that they were looking for the bullet that had been part of their investigation. I pulled out my notes on my phone and typed out this information.

“Any other information you’re willing to give to me right now?” I asked eagerly. She was a bit of an unpleasant and sour broad, but she was pretty informative and clearly knew I was there to do my job as much as she was.

“Look, you’re going to have to work for this information just as much as I am. I’m fucking pissed you’re even here. First a County Detective, now a reporter following me like flies. You feed off people for your own per…” She was cut off by the ringing of her cellphone. She picked it up and quickly answered.

“What?” She was clearly as abrasive to everyone as she was to me, so that gave me a bit of peace. “Okay, yeah I’m held up in my office with some dumb big city reporter. Be there in a second,” She didn’t even bother looking to me to see if I was offended. I just looked down at my phone and smiled. I was just some dumb big city reporter. The best fucking one she was ever going to meet.

“Alright, if you promise to write a piece better than the local paper- and actually spell my fucking name right I can let you come to the scene with me and let you have some information I know the publics been askin for.” I nodded and jotted in my notes ‘SHEEHAN -Can’t fuck that up.’

“I have to head to the scene. You can ride there with Detective Zabel.”

The blood ran cold in my body.

“Detective Zabel…?” I felt like my soul left my body, why did that come out of my mouth, what if I had heard that wrong. I felt so sweaty, is this what having an anxiety attack feels like? He was a country detective now… I had only googled his name every week. I drank yourself into oblivion when I found out he was the one who had cracked a case that had the media buzzing - a missing teen, of course the perfect Colin Zabel found a missing fucking kid.

“Yeah, he’s the county Detective on this case with me. He’s a real… treat.” Mare raised her eyebrows at me as she slid her old gray jacket over her body. I got up somehow, even though my legs felt like they would give out at any moment.

“Speak of the devil,” Mare nodded towards the door, and I felt myself involuntarily turn my whole body to the exit and entrance of the small office. 
His smile instantly fell, his jaw was slightly ajar as if he couldn’t believe he was seeing me as much as I couldn’t believe I was seeing…him.

I felt my eyes widen in horror and I looked at the man I had been dreaming about for almost two years. My ex fiancé.

“You good Zabel?” Sheehan’s voice broke my stare and it clearly did for Colin as well.

“Yeah, hi. It’s been a while,” Colin’s soft voice filled the room. Detective Sheehan scoffed.

“You know her?” She asked looking between the two of us. Yeah we knew each other.

“Um, we uh… we went to high school together actually,” I filled in the blank for Colin as he stood there-white as a ghost. I can’t be doing this to him. I’ll call the post and tell them to reassign me to something fashion related instead. I mean I clearly need to learn something in that field.

“Great, you can catch up on the drive to the scene then. I’m out.” Detective Sheehan walked by us quickly and the room felt heavy as it was just Colin and I left. I swallowed the bile creeping up in my throat.

Colins sat down heavily in the chair I had occupied moments before. He gently placed his coffee on the table and refused to look at me.

“What are you doing here, Y/n?” He said softly, almost a whisper.

“I… I got assigned to write about the Mcmenamin case while on holiday. I’m gone in a week.” I managed to talk, which surprised not only me but Colin as well. He shot me a look of horror.

“A week?” His voice was no longer a whisper.

“You’ve spent a lot more than a week with me, I think you can handle it.” I retorted, annoyed that he was that angry to see me. I had to understand, but the sad sappy girl inside me played this scene VERY differently in my head.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just.. wow I didn’t ever expect you to be here.” He ran his hands through his hair, and I wanted to grab him in a hug. He was so gentle, and I missed that about him. I suddenly wanted to know if he was seeing anyone. I made a mental note to figure that out during the week I was here. I don’t think I could handle it if he had moved on. I know how bad that sounds, but seriously I couldn’t.

“I have my car parked out front, I’ll just follow you to the scene I.. I know you don’t want me here. I’m so sorry. I never would have taken this case if I knew you were in it as well. You have to trust me on that,” I talked soft and slow. I wanted him to understand that I didn’t mean for this to happen.

“It’s fine, you can ride in the squad car with me. It’s safer that way.” He got up from his seat and let out a breath. He avoided eye contact, but I couldn’t help but need to look into those brown eyes.

“Colin?” My voice seemed to have calmed his nerves and he looked at me, his eyes finally landing on mine. Now they were not as mysterious as they had been for all those years. They were still dark and dreamy, but now they were clearly filled with pain, hurt, and sadness. I did it again, I re-opened a wound he was so desperate to close. I’m so great at fucking everything up for myself, but now I realize I was fucking everything up for the one person in the world who truly didn’t deserve it.

“I am so sorry,” My voice cracked and I realized I wasn’t talking about being here and reporting on his case. I was talking about everything that came before that.

“Yeah…” He stood there, eyes searching mine. “Let’s get going, Mare’s waiting.” He wasted no time, I stood there for a moment in shock. I had to be dreaming this encounter.

“You joining me?” Colin asked at the door. I smiled politely and apologized before following him out the door.

[melodyalanaroster]

Update As Of November 3rd, 2023.

Hey everyone. The last time I updated ya'll was in September. I know, I probably should have updated ya'll like this last month, but its been a busy one.

If you're in the Otome Haven Discord Server, then you have been updated almost weekly as things in my life progress. If you're not and you still read my story, here's what's currently going on.

In the last update, I told ya'll that I had gotten engaged in May and that my fiancé and I were house hunting. Well, at the end of September, we found a house. On October 3rd, we signed the paperwork and became homeowners.

Moving sucks... Moving from a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment to a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom house is a whole different brand of sucking. Especially when you're trying to do it in such a way that you won't need the movers for very long. And we managed to get it to where we only needed the movers for 2 hours, rather than the 6ish that they quoted us for. We had to make sure the roof and foundation were fixed. We painted almost every room (with the help of his mom and my best friends). We had to go through the shed in the back yard. We even had to buy a new fridge.

On top of that, his family is going through some shit, and he's caught up in the middle of it (since its mainly his parents doing the shit). Let's just say that his dad and his dad's mom are assholes... Both his dad and one set of his grandparents (his dad's parents) have come over to our house without warning, or invitation and we've only been in the house full time since October 21st. Oh, and his mom is driving both of us insane....

To keep the family drama to as much of a minimum as possible , we've cut contact with my family down to a trickle... Despite that, my grandmother and aunt don't seem to get the fact that they can't just invite themselves over to my house. As they don't have my address, they can't just show up... Yet. They're going to have a very rude awakening in the coming months (to put it lightly)... Especially when they try to bring my little cousin over to my house (because they will do this) and find out that my fiancé and I don't want kids at our house at all for now (and my little cousin is never allowed over). Even though we haven't seen my family since before we signed the papers, they've managed to do this over the phone... When all I did was text my grandmother an update on how things were going and to tell her that I love her...

We have his family, my family, his coworkers and all of our friends demanding that we have the mother of all housewarming parties, and we're not even gonna think of actively planning that until after the holidays.

As of 11/03/23 at, we still have 3 plushie nets to hang, and 3 boxes left to unpack...

Now, of course, the holidays are upon us. Our jobs are demanding the world from us. We have multiple Thanksgiving celebrations and Christmas events to worry about and attend.

And, while during some of the most horrible points in my life, I've managed to get multiple chapters of my story out in a year... This year is not one of them. I'd be lying if I didn't say that it would be a miracle if I managed to get a chapter out before the end of the year.

This is all the main reasoning why I didn't get together with my mods to do a fandom event in the discord server this year.

The Melancholy of Melody Alana Roster is not finished. It is going to be, eventually... But right now, its not a priority. It can't be.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 6)

Summary: The reader’s relaxing plans for Dean at yoga class are anything but. However the rough evening turns out to be exactly the opposite when it helps Dean get over his fears...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, smut, drugging & overdosing

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

________

Reader’s POV

Two Weeks Later

“Yoga is exactly what I need,” you said, throwing your head back. You grabbed Dean’s arm as he chuckled on your way into the studio. “You don’t have work tomorrow right?”

“Nope. We are both off from now until next week. I can’t wait to give you girls a proper thanksgiving again,” he said, opening the door for you.

“Does family come or is it just friends?” you asked.

“Mostly friends. We uh...there’s a lot of crap that’s happened to a lot of us. Some have lost people. Some left bad situations like Sam and I did. My Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen will normally come though. They don’t talk to my parents anymore,” he said.

“Well I am looking forward to meeting anyone you consider family,” you said, showing him to your locker. “So you can put your coat and shoes in here and I will go get you a spare mat.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You whistled as you went over to the front desk and got a rental for Dean, seeing some other people there for class.

“Hey Y/N. Been awhile,” said Kerri as you headed back to the lockers. 

“Yeah. Life’s been a bit crazy. I managed to get my boyfriend to come with tonight,” you said. “He could use with some relaxing too.”

“Oh is he cute?” she asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” you laughed as she walked in with you. Dean turned in your direction, gaze going right to Kerri. “Dean this is Kerri. She’s one of the instructors here.”

“You look so familiar,” she said to him. “Have we met?”

“Yes,” he said. He turned back to the locker and you saw him tense and start pulling on his winter boots again. “Y/N I got an emergency call. I need to take this.”

“Do you want me to…” you said, Dean walking out with his jacket under his arms. “Uh, sorry. He’s a doctor. There must be an emergency.”

“Oh no trouble. I definitely remember him now,” she grinned. You raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “It was a one night stand years ago. There was nothing to it. He was very fun to play with.”

“Fun to play with how?” you asked.

“Most guys aren’t into fingers...in places,” she said. You stared at her and she looked around. “Maybe it was just a phase. He was into all sorts of kinky shit.”

“Walk away,” you said as it dawned on you.

“What?”

“I said walk away before I punch you in the face.”

“Don’t be such a prude. He asked for-”

“He asked for you to stop. That’s assault what you did.” You clenched your fists, catching her size you up and down. She was tall but slim and didn’t have the muscle you did. 

“Wait in the car,” said Dean, his hands on your arms tugging you backwards. You glared up at him but he pushed you back towards the door. You grumbled and went outside, Dean returning less than a minute later with your coat and yoga mat. He tossed them in the backseat and drove off, pulling into a parking lot after a moment. “Y/N I don’t need you to defend me.”

“I wasn’t defending you. She pissed me off. I’m never going there again,” you said. You crossed your arms and he looked out the window, leaning his head against the glass. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“You didn’t know. I didn’t know. I never knew what she did for work,” he said.

“Can we just go home?” you mumbled. Fifteen minutes later you were in your bedroom, Tessa and Toast over Hailey’s, Sam out catching up with some friends. You tossed your yoga mat in the closet and ran your hands over your face.

“You did promise me yoga,” said Dean. You moved your hands down to catch him picking up the mat. “Show me?”

“I don’t know how to teach.”

“A few moves then,” he said. He held out his hand and you took it, following him out to the bedroom. You laid out the mat in the open space, pausing when Dean took off his shirt and tossed it aside. He stood by the end of the mat with a smile and shrugged. “What’s up first, boss?”

“We’ll do a little light stretching,” you said. You stood at the opposite end, Dean matching you work your arms and legs a bit. “Let’s just do a little three move circuit. Pretty beginner stuff. Let’s do cat cow so get down on your hands and knees. I’ll do it first and then you can try.”

You went down to the floor beside him, arching your back and then bowing it, doing it a few times for Dean to catch on. 

“Like this?” he asked as he arched his spine.

“Yeah. It works your lower back,” you said. He did the pose for a minute or so when you got up to your feet. “Okay. We can do a quick warrior. This one stretches your legs and hips.”

You got into position, Dean mostly matching you aside from leaning too far forward.

“Tuck your hips back,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” he asked.

“Can I?” you asked. He nodded and you put your hands on his hips, pulling them back a little. “Now put your weight forward...and keep your back straight...and there you go.”

“This feels weird. Like a stretch and strength at the same time,” he said. 

“Welcome to yoga,” you said. “Now try with the other leg forward.”

He turned and faced you, letting you help him put his hips in the right spot again. He lowered his arms and rested his hands over top of yours, standing up, moving you with him. 

“You uh, have one more pose,” you said, Dean not saying a word when you ran your thumbs over his skin.

“Maybe another time,” he said. You started to move your hands away when he caught your wrists. You laid them back on his hips and gave a cautious squeeze, Dean taking a sharp breath. “If I hadn’t come in, what would happened back there.”

“She’d probably have a black eye right now.”

“You shouldn’t be violent.”

“People shouldn’t hurt you. She would have deserved it. She does deserve it.”

“I told you that you don’t have to defend me.”

“Well I’ll defend you whether you like it or not. You’re my boyfriend. You don’t like it, tough shit.”

“Touch me. Please.” You stared at him and he slide your hands up his chest. “Y/N.”

“Where?” you asked softly.

“Everywhere.”

“Does everywhere include down there?”

“Yes,” he said, leaving your hands on his pecs. “I am so not afraid of you. I never had to be.”

“I’m gonna freshen up quick. If you’re so inclined to take off the rest of your clothes while I’m gone, I’d have no problem with that,” you said. You raked your fingers down his torso gently and he shivered. “Been awhile for me too, Dean.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said. You kissed him briefly before you ducked into the bathroom. You peeled off you workout clothes and stripped down, washing off your face. You waited a beat and opened the door, the bedroom darker now. Dean’s back was to you and you smirked at his perky cheeks, Dean spinning around with a smile.

“Hey.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he said. 

“I know,” you teased, Dean chuckling long enough for you to walk up to him and kiss him. “Tonight’s about you, alright?”

“Why not the both of us?” he murmured, dipping his head low to your neck before he started kissing the skin. You arched it back for him and put your hands on his ribs. He shuddered but it looked pleasant that time, his hands gently landing on your hips. 

“Mostly about you then,” you said, gripping his sides. 

“I can agree to that,” he said. You broke off and climbed up on the bed, pulling Dean with you into the middle. He sat back and let you take charge of a kiss, his hands lazily wandering up and down your back. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you breathed out as you caught your breath.

“I can touch you right?” he asked.

“Yes, Dean,” you said with a smile. “I highly encourage it actually.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” 

“Why don’t you lay back and we can take this nice and slow.”

“Alright,” he said. He scooted further down the bed and lay back, gazing up as you straddled him and dipped your head low. “Wait.”

“You okay?” you asked, sitting up as Dean smiled.

“Yeah. I got condoms in the drawer is all,” he said, nodding towards his nightstand.

“And you already know I’m on birth control,” you said. “You good to keep going?”

“Yeah,” he said, your head dipping low once more and kissing under his jaw. “Stealing my moves on me sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumbled against his skin, kissing him softly, running your hands all over his shoulders, his arms, his chest. You gripped his sides carefully, Dean’s eyes fluttering shut. “You’re all mine, you got it? Gonna take good care of you.”

“Why?” he asked as you gave kitten kisses down his chest. “Would you want me to be yours I mean?”

“Cause you’re my boy,” you said with a smile, cupping his cheek and giving him the gentlest kiss you could. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he said softly. He reached up and pulled you flush with him, kissing you deeply. He roamed a hand down the curve of your spine, dipping in the hollow of your back before traveling up again. “I trust you.”

“Good,” you said, kissing him and reaching over to the nightstand. You dug around and found the box, pulling out a condom. You tore it open and sat back, Dean propping himself up on his elbows. He nodded and you lightly grazed his cock, Dean’s breath hitching. It was mostly hard already and you slipped the condom over the head, rolling it down slowly, Dean throbbing under you. You smiled and leaned back, waiting a beat to wrap your lips around his tip.

You bobbed up and down slowly, only a few inches, focusing on the head when Dean’s hips bucked and he groaned.

“Gotta stop,” he said and you pulled off. “I’m too wound up. I was about to come already.”

“You come as many times you want to,” you said. He grinned and you moved closer to him, hovering over him, kissing him again, Dean exploring more with his hands. Goosebumps broke out over your skin while he touched you, smirking when rolled your hips against nothing.

When his hands rested on your hips you slid back and lined yourself up with his cock, sinking down slowly, Dean squeezing gently when he bottomed out.

“Same,” you said, lifting off and back down, Dean letting out a tiny laugh.

“Ah, that feels so good,” said Dean.

“Like I said, lay back and enjoy.” You rolled your hips and started a steady pace, Dean’s palms landing on your thighs after only a minute.

“Y/N, I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead,” you said. You went a hair faster and before you knew it, Dean’s hands were on his hips and you felt him tensing beneath you, Dean gasping when you clenched around him. You rode him for a few more thrusts, Dean enjoying every last second of his orgasm. You giggled and lowered your head, kissing him quickly. “Feel good?”

“Definitely,” he said. “Come here.” 

You cocked your head and he lifted you up, pulling you forward, your hands slamming against the headboard.

“Dean what-” you said as he slid down, holding you over his face as he ate you out. You slammed your hand again when he teased your clit, Dean chuckling under you. “Dean.”

You breathed hard, Dean knowing exactly what he was doing as he swiped his tongue over you. You moaned when you came, Dean holding your legs as they quivered. You panted and slumped back down beside him. 

“Fuck. Me,” you said. You sat up and reached over, removing the condom before you got up. Dean giggled in bed as you threw it away in the trash, grabbing onto the doorframe of the bathroom when your legs wobbled.

“I still got it,” he said with a big stretch as you cleaned yourself up.

“I will definitely take more of it,” you said. You walked back up to the bed and reached under the covers, wiping him off with a washcloth as he looked up at you with a goofy smile. “What?”

“You’re cleaning me up,” he said. 

“I like taking care of you,” you said. You tossed the washcloth in the laundry basket by the closet, Dean wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He kissed your temple and smiled, holding you to him. “I had a lot of fun tonight all things considered.”

“Good,” you hummed as you shut your eyes. “Still kinda wanna go kick Kerri’s ass.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” laughed Dean. He played with your hair and you burrowed down into him, starting to drift off when there was a knock at the door. “Yes?”

“Guys I don’t feel good,” said Tessa. You sat up and Dean pulled on some boxers and sweatpants by the time you put on his shirt and a pair of underwear. He opened the door and Tessa was leaning against the wall. Dean put a hand on her head and glanced back at you.

“You feel okay before Hailey dropped you off?” he asked as he checked under her jaw. She shook her head and he walked her into your bathroom where you saw how pale she was. He got out the first aid kit from the cabinet and took out a thermometer, sticking it in her ear. He pouted when he pulled it back, showing you.

“Ninety eight?” you asked, Dean nodding.

“Tessa tell me what else is wrong,” he said. He felt her abdomen but she just shut her eyes. “Tessa.”

“I’m tired and cold and achy and feel like I’m gonna throw up and my skin’s weird, like tingly, and I’m just really like off,” she said. He crossed his arms and she blinked hers open, Dean pinching the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“Your eyes are dilated. Did you take drugs tonight, yes or no?” he asked. She scoffed and he ran a hand over his face. “Tessa. I’m serious. Yes or no.”

“I don’t take drugs. I had a headache so Hailey’s mom gave me an advil,” she said.

“Tessa, I’m not joking around.”

“I’m not laughing,” she shot back. 

“Tessa,” you said, her face softening. “What did you take?”

“Her mom gave me an Advil!” she said. 

“Call Hailey’s parents and find out exactly what medication she gave her,” said Dean. You left the room and found your phone on the bed stand. You walked back a few minutes later with Dean still checking Tessa over. “Well?”

“Heather I’m gonna put you on speaker,” you said. You tossed the phone down and Dean took a deep breath.

“Heather this is Dr. Dean Winchester. We met a few weeks ago when the girls were in the car accident. Tessa’s just gotten back home and is showing some serious signs of drug side effects. I need to know what and how much you gave her,” said Dean.

“It was just a painkiller. My doctor says it’s just like Advil,” she said. Dean rolled his eyes but bit back a comment.

“Heather I need to know the name of the drug and the amount of milligrams you gave Tessa. It’ll be right on the bottle,” said Dean.

“Fine. Give me a minute.”

“Are you aware that it’s illegal to give prescription drugs to anyone that’s not the intended recipient,” said Dean. There was silence on the other end and Tessa leaned back against the counter, gripping it tightly. “Heather.”

“Yes, yes. It’s Hydrocodone. I gave her three pills since she said it was quite bad,” she said. 

“Tessa, throw up right now,” said Dean. He pulled her over to the toilet and she stared at him. “You need to put your fingers to the back of your throat and trigger your gag reflex. Do it right now.”

She paused only a moment before she forced herself to, Dean holding her hair as she wretched.

“Y/N. 911. Tell them she’s overdosing on an opioid,” said Dean. You hung up and dialed, your local fire department showing up within four minutes. You let them in and showed them upstairs, one of them opening up a bag when they got into the bathroom. 

“Deano. Not the way I wanted to meet the new girlfriend,” said a guy. He pulled out a syringe and Tessa hurled again. He stabbed the needle into her leg and she yelped, scooting back into Dean. 

“That’s gonna help buy us some time,” said Dean. He picked up Tessa and carried her downstairs, Toast pacing around frantically. “She’s gonna be fine, buddy. Y/N, why don’t you ride with your sister and I’ll follow behind in the car, okay?”

“Alright,” you said, an ambulance there by the time you walked outside. She threw up a few more times in the ambulance and they rushed her into the ER, jabbing her with some needles. Dean jogged in with a fire department shirt on, handing you a pair of sweatpants as he stepped inside the room.

“Paramedics say Hydrocodone overdose?” asked some doctor that was tearing open a black package.

“Yeah. Three pills intended for an adult woman about thirty minutes ago,” said Dean. “Didn’t get milligrams.”

“She’s been vomiting,” he said.

“First time tried to flush out what was left in her stomach. She hasn’t stopped since,” said Dean. He grabbed your arm when he saw a black capsule in the doctor’s gloved hand. “Y/N you don’t want to watch this.”

“Dean, it’s-”

“I will stay right here with Tessa.” You nodded and stepped back. “The police will show up soon I’m sure. I’ll come get you when she’s ready to see you.”

“Is she-”

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “I think we caught it real early. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You pulled on the pants and took a seat on a bench in the waiting room, Dean coming back about ten minutes later to get you.

“Hey,” said Tessa wearily, her lips stained black and some streaks down her chin and neck. “I really liked this shirt too.”

“We’ll get the stains out,” said Dean. “Doc this is the big sister and guardian.”

“Alright big sis. Tessa’s gonna be just fine. Her vitals are already all back up in the normal range. We’re gonna keep her overnight and flush out her system. She’ll be able to go home in the morning.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“Thank him. He made my job easy,” said the doctor. “A nurse will bring some paperwork over in a minute to get her admitted.”

“Thank you,” you said. He left along with most everyone else in the room besides a nurse, Dean finding your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And thank you. Really.”

“I like the little dork,” he said, ruffling Tessa’s hair. She gave a half smile and closed her eyes. “Tessa I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of taking drugs. You were very ill for a second there and I was scared.”

“Why?” she asked. “Don’t you deal with stuff like this all the time?”

“In med school I did. But you’re like my little sister. It’s different,” he said. 

“I like having a family again,” she said quietly. She nuzzled his hand for a moment and you smiled. “I should get all the credit for getting you two together you know.”

“You’re delusional,” you joked. “Hey you want ice cream in a little while? I can run out and get you some.”

“Yeah. My throat hurts,” she said. 

“How about I run home and get you some clean clothes and ice cream and you’ll be all set for it by the time I get back?” said Dean. She nodded and you promised you’d be right back as you walked out with Dean. You took a deep breath out in the hall and he pulled you into a big hug. “She’s okay.���

“I know. You really care about her,” you said.

“If I’m overstepping-”

“No. Not at all. She likes having a big brother. Two of them. Trust me. She tells me things.”

“She reminds me of Sam sometimes,” he said.

“I will happily take someone else watching her back. As long as I get to watch yours every once in a while too,” you said.

“Mmm I will take you up on that tomorrow. You still owe me a post-sex cuddle,” he said.

“Sadly I think we’ll have to do it again if you want the right mood for it,” you smirked.

“Such a shame,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you said when you saw Dean in the hallway an hour or so later, Tessa watching TV in her room. You were speaking to a detective and after Dean brought Tessa her ice cream, he stepped into the hall with you. “Detective Hawkins this is my boyfriend, Dean.”

“Y/N’s told me about your involvement tonight. I’d like to get your statement,” he said, flipping to a new page in his notebook. “Just take me through your evening sir.”

“Um…” said Dean as he glanced at you. 

“Sir this isn’t a group statement,” he said. Dean sighed and started to recant you two having dinner and then what happened with yoga. He didn’t give any details about your bedroom antics until Tessa showed up. 

“Then I left to go home and get a change of clothes for the girls and some ice cream for Tessa. I just got back,” said Dean. He nodded and bit his lip for a moment. 

“Would you like to press charges against this Kerri person?” he asked.

“No,” said Dean quietly. “I have no proof anyways. I’d rather forget about it.”

“Alright. There are counseling-”

“I understand,” said Dean. “I’m more concerned about the fact a prescription opioid was given to a teenager so nonchalantly. A teenager with a history of seizures.”

“I’ll give it to you straight,” he said, tucking his notepad away. “There’s a reason you’re speaking to a detective about this and not a regular cop. This is not the first incident involving the Locke family and the severity of this one has raised it up the chain. There’s a class action involving two other families pending. I would suggest you get involved with them if you intend on suing.”

“Yeah but courts don’t tend to…” said Dean before the detective gave him a look. “Oh. Oh. The parents are…”

“Mother is also a doctor. You get the picture,” he said, giving Dean his business card. “I’ll be in touch with you two and Tessa.”

“Thank you,” said Dean. He nodded and the detective left as you cocked your head. “Tessa’s mom is pushing pills.”

“What?”

“She’s got access. She gives a younger person free dosage, makes ‘em feel good, gets ‘em hooked and then she collects. You mentioned Hailey has older siblings. I guarantee those are who that cop is talking about.”

“Hailey is her best friend. I’m supposed to tell her she can’t see her anymore?”

“Her best friend’s mom tried to give her a drug addiction. She nearly killed her. Hailey didn’t do that though.”

“Guys,” called Tessa from her room. You both ducked around the corner, Tessa sat up in bed and toying with her pint of ice cream. “I think Hailey knows. She’s been acting weird lately and like, talking to the stoner kids a lot at school.”

“Well that might-” you said before Hailey held up her phone.

“She texted me and told me not to say anything to get her mom in trouble,” she said. 

“I’m gonna go get the detective before he leaves,” said Dean. He jogged out of the room and you took a seat on the side of the mattress. Tessa put her phone back in her lap and poked her ice cream again.

“Tessa it could be coincidence.”

“But it’s not. She’s so sketchy lately and she doesn’t even care I’m in the hospital. She didn’t care about Toast getting hurt. It’s her fucking fault my dog lost his leg. She didn’t even care. She’s been this way since the summer and fuck her.”

“Do you want to sue? It’s your call,” you said. She nodded and you gave her a hug. “Okay. We’ll get all this sorted out as soon as we can.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

[lovelyirony]

"a single thread of gold/tied me to you" for ironhusbands?💛

If there is one thing that James Rhodes cannot stand, it is “love at first sight.” In his professional and personal opinion, there is no such thing. It is simply a concept that Disney invented so they could make cutesy stories about princesses finding their princes immediately and give people hope about love, but in the end it is all about the money. 

“You’re a cynic,” his sister Jeanie tells him over breakfast. She flings a stray Cheerio at him. “You are a cynic and you’re never gonna date someone because they’re going to think you suck.” 

“People are going to date me and realize that I’m a good, realistic choice,” James responds, sticking his tongue out and stealing a drink of her orange juice. “People are going to date you and you’ll be disappointed because you watched too many romantic movies and you let it taint reality.” 

“Loser.” 

“Dork.” 

And then he’s in college. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t meet Tony Stark for two years despite the fact that every single year, they live in the same building on different floors. He has had to evacuate about twenty different times because Tony cannot stop himself from doing experiments in his room. 

The third year, James is an RA and required to live with one of the residents because of “experimental tendencies.” They don’t elaborate on why he’s stuck with a roommate, what the tendencies are, or who he is. 

“You’ll know,” comes the email from the coordinator, and he has never wanted to curse so badly in an email before, but here he is. 

But he’ll deal with it. Just like how he’s going to deal with everything this year. 

-

He thought he would get the room to himself for a little while before everyone moved in and brought everything and he would check them in. 

But no. 

There’s his roommate, lounging on a bed, and grinning. 

“Simply enlightening to meet you, James. They told me I could come back if I had a trusted roommate.” 

“And they stuck you with me?” 

“Well they were going to stick me with some dude who got the email, and then immediately transferred to Dartmouth. So I think you were the second option.” 

“Great.” 

He hates life, maybe just a little bit. 

Tony wants to do things. Which is fine, but he isn’t really in the mood to have the conversation of the fact that he can do things, but he doesn’t want to do them. He has to focus on being an RA and preparing for the Air Force. 

“Why prepare for that when you could be living?” Tony asks, lounging on Rhodey’s bed. 

Oh yeah, that’s new too. Rhodey. Apparently, “Jim,” “James,” and “Rhodes” were unacceptable nicknames. 

What is acceptable is Rhodey. And of course, the “honey bunches of oats” and “loveliest RA of all time in the history of MIT” and “sugar-puff” and “sweetness overload” 

He’s responding to all of them, by the way. 

Rhodey didn’t think his mental health would get this bad by the beginning. He had actually scheduled it to be around October. 

- 

And then the students come. There are nervous freshmen, the sophomores who don’t say anything as they move in and get settled, and the returning juniors and seniors greet Rhodey and Tony with familiarity and laugh about the posters that Rhodey’s worked hard on. 

“So, we’re having joint-RA’s or something?” Miles asks, throwing his comforter over his bed. 

“No, we’re not,” Rhodey says, hoping his expression is somewhere along the lines of not-showing-emotion. “Tony’s just...” 

“I’m simply too exhausting for Housing to deal with anymore, so I have a babysitter,” Tony says with a wink. “And who better than our lovely Rhodey?” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Sugar-puff?” 

“Still no.” 

Miles snorts. 

“This year should be good. Tony, you gonna pull any fire alarms this year?” 

“Rhodey has expressly banned experiments in the building, unfortunately,” Tony sighs. “It’s like he doesn’t want everyone to bond over having to leave at two in the morning...” 

“Nothing says bonding like hating a rude wake-up call,” Rhodey says, and Tony nods. “We’ll let you get all moved in, Miles. Remember that floor dinner is at six!” 

“You got it!” 

Rhodey gives Tony a look. 

“You know, I can do this on my own.” 

“Aw shutterbug, I’m not gonna let you.” 

“Are you really this intent on following me around?” 

“Well, what if I want to overtake your position next year? What if you tragically get a raging headache and it’s up to me to know what to do? What if your mother kidnaps you and never lets you come here again?” 

“I’m sure the college kids will be fine,” Rhodey stresses. “And I’ll still have access to email and the groupchat, genius.” 

Tony just laughs. 

“Alright, okay. I gotta go get some shit for my new class. The teacher sent out an email stating that the textbook is mandatory, and we have to do book work. This feels like eighth grade all over again.” 

Rhodey snorts. 

“Is it for Professor Casper?” 

“Yeah, did you have him?” 

“Yeah, you don’t need the book. You can find it online for free, and he never collects the book work. It’s a waste of time to get the book.” 

“You’re an angel-and-a-half, love of my life,” Tony says. “And for that, I’ll snag an extra pudding for you at the dining hall.” 

“Is it vanilla or chocolate this time?” 

“Chocolate with cookies in it.” 

“Oh my god, seriously? Already?” 

“Guess they must have had a jump,” Tony teases. “I’ll see you at dinner.” 

- 

Tony has a specific way of getting people to open up and actually talk with others that Rhodey envies. 

If Tony wasn’t so hellbent on convincing the group that if Miles and Kamala create a distraction, they could totally sneak out one of the pictures of the mascot. 

“We are not doing that the first week,” Rhodey says. “Maybe the last.” 

“It’s a beaver,” Tony whines. “Who’s gonna miss it, a Canadian?” 

“It’ll be the floor bonding activity,” Gwen says, finishing off her fifth (maybe sixth) slice of pizza. “Better than talking about your feelings about the campus or whatever.” 

“No.” 

“We’ll convince him soon,” Tony whispers conspiratorially. “Also, who here is a freshman? I have some advice regarding the math classes and which teacher you want...” 

- 

Rhodey does have to admit, that sometimes it’s easier to have Tony around, who is so willing to stay up until the late hours because of some stupid drama or to help Peter at his chemistry homework and also ease his anxiety about leaving his Aunt May all alone. 

Tony isn’t all wild and crazy as stories have led him up to be. 

"I wore out all my crazy freshman year after going to two frat parties and deciding that no one knew anything about how to have fun,” he declared. “I mean, come on. Why have beer pong when you could quiz people about obscure fashion facts?” 

Rhodey snorts. 

“Don’t make that the next game night. Hey, what do you think about having a movie night this Friday? I’m thinking something not scary, we’ve been doing a lot of those.” 

“It is October, what do you mean not scary?” 

“Some of our residents don’t like scary,” Rhodey reminds him. “Honestly, I think we could do with a bit of Halloween fun.” 

“Hocus Pocus? Double Double, Toil and Trouble? If you want to be slightly scared of old women and clown parties, I’d recommend it.” 

“You weren’t scared of clowns beforehand?” 

“Of course not, I wanted what they have; the ability to fit eighteen people in a car.” 

“Couldn’t you just gut the car?” 

“Not the same effect, honey-pie. Not the same effect.” 

Miles and Peter both end up lobbying for Hocus Pocus, with little to no competition other than a promise that the other choice would be shown later on in the semester. 

They’ve shoved all the chairs together and multiple people have brought out their own chairs, and Tony saves a seat for Rhodey under the premise of “Rhodey organized it, he gets a seat.” 

It’s a tough squeeze, and Tony and Rhodey get all tangled up together. 

Tony smells like expensive cologne and coffee, and he grins up at Rhodey and maybe the lights from the TV aren’t bright enough, but for a moment his heart skips a beat. 

Well. Shit. 

When he goes home for Thanksgiving break, Tony seems a bit...sad. 

“What, your mom cook the worst turkey in the world?” he jokes. 

"Sure,” Tony says, eyes unfocused. “Yeah.” 

"Dude, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, turning. His smile brightens, eyes crinkling. “Why wouldn’t I be fine, buttercup?” 

Rhodey gives him a look. 

“I’m gonna call you when I get home, okay? You better answer.” 

“I always answer to you,” Tony says, and damn Rhodey’s mind shouldn’t be going where it is. 

Rhodey waves, gets in his car, and thinks about how Tony most likely has a problem on his mind, how he should probably not room with him, and his Aunt Ada’s green beans. 

God, he loves those green beans. 

- 

Tony is alone for Thanksgiving. Jarvis and Ana got an opportunity to visit Aunt Peggy in England, and he knew that they hadn’t seen her in two years. He didn’t want to be selfish, have them stay just for him. 

So, it looked like deli turkey sandwiches were in his future. If there’s still some soda in the fridge, maybe that too. 

He sighs, and turns towards the lab. Dum-E’s not even here, as he didn’t fit in the travel car, so Tony let him loose on the floor to “keep guard” over the dorms and make sure that no one broke in or stole the cords that he knows he accidentally left in the common room. 

The odd thing is, he had almost told Rhodey. Almost let him know that he’d be alone for Thanksgiving, but is that weird? That’s weird, right? To tell people your emotions just...it’s so messy. 

They have to deal with it, you have to deal with the fact that they’re dealing with it, and then other people know that you both are dealing with it and it’s just a whole mess of epic proportions, you know? 

-

Rhodey finds out on Thanksgiving, when they’re doing the parade on the TV and there’s a new snippet on the gossip channel when they go on commercial break. 

Howard and Maria Stark, vacationing off the Mediterranean Coast. 

“It’s reported that Tony Stark has preferred to spend his time in the vacation home,” the news reporter said, her smile wide and placid. 

“Tony’s lucky,” Mama says, wrapping golden yarn around her fingers as she works on another sweater. (A small one, a tiny one. It’s for the new baby in the family for Christmas.) “He tell you about it?” 

“He’s not there,” Rhodey says numbly. 

“He’s not?” Dad says, eyes raised over the newspaper. 

“No.” 

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Dad asks. 

“No, no he didn’t.” 

“Well then. Next time he’ll come with us.” 

Rhodey nods. 

“Christmas?” 

“Clear it with his parents if they’re not spending time together.” 

“Got it.” 

- 

Rhodey’s Thanksgiving is...nice. He can’t stop thinking about Tony going alone. 

So he calls him. It’s two in the morning, he might be asleep, and Rhodey’s not sure if he got the “eight” in the last four digits right or not. 

“Howard’s out, who is it?” comes a sleep-addled voice. 

“Good thing I’m not looking for Howard, Tones.” 

“Rhodey? Why are you calling me?” Tony asks, and Rhodey can imagine his eyes lighting up and that’s...that’s something. 

“You spent Thanksgiving alone, I wanted to see how you were.” 

“Aw, checking in your residents?” 

“Checking in on you.” 

Tony stills for a moment at the phone. 

Besides Jarvis, no one had ever really checked in on him. 

“Um, I’m fine?” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I mean, it sucks to be alone on Thanksgiving, but I don’t really like any of the foods that people usually have, so I’ve been fine. I ordered wraps from my favorite place.” 

“Good to hear, good to hear.” 

There’s a silent pause for a moment, the one where they both try to find something to say. 

“Listen,” Rhodey says. “If you’re ever stuck for a holiday alone, you’re coming with me, okay?” 

“I don’t want to intrude on your family,” Tony says softly. 

“They all wanna meet you. Jeanie says she can kick your ass at ice hockey!” 

“You guys can actually play ice hockey?” 

“With limited degrees of success.” 

“Oh, now that I gotta see some time.”

- 

They come back to college, and Tony is back to his usual antics, greeting everyone who comes through the elevator with a shower of shredded paper. 

“Welcome to Winter Wonderland! Next stop: suffering through finals!” 

“Ugh,” Kamala groans, “stop it. Stop making me think. I have to memorize Byronic poetry. Do you know how boring that is?” 

"Speak for yourself, I have to build a wooden chair,” Riri whines. “Who works with wood these days? It’s so old-fashioned.” 

“Create the most bitching chair alive,” Tony says. “And I’ll help you with the necessary tools. Your professor isn’t expecting much, mainly just that it can support the weight of two people, you’ll be fine. Kam, Byronic poetry is not that bad, you will be good. We will bake cookies.” 

“Can we even bake cookies? I thought our floor got banned from kitchen usage,” Peter says. “Hey Rhodey.” 

“Hey kiddo,” Rhodey says. “First of all, yes we are banned from the kitchen. Second, we’re only banned and get in trouble so long as they know we’re there. And since more than half of us are nocturnal creatures and I am willing to wake up to help, we can bake cookies.” 

There are cheers around the room, and Tony mocks offense. 

“You don’t trust me to help the future youth?” 

“Given that we’re not allowed to rent out any more equipment from the front office? Yes.” 

“You wound me, darling.” 

“Only as much as kitchen equipment goes, sweetheart.” 

Tony grins. 

“Aw, you missed me.” 

“Yeah, I did. Now come on, you gotta help me with a billboard about the movie night this Friday. We thinking a romantic comedy or something mildly terrifying but probably won an award?” 

“Mildly terrifying!” Gwen calls from her dorm. “If we watch two people falling in love I’ll choke! We’ve been doing it all year!” 

“We’ve only watched, like, three rom-coms?” 

Gwen rolls her eyes, as if he’s missed something completely obvious. 

“You don’t get it. I’ll try again later. Hey, are we doing floor dinner tonight?” 

“They’re serving pizza sandwiches, so obviously,” Tony says. “We will feast like kings.” 

- 

Christmas is a festive time for Tony. He loves it, and goes overboard with decorations. Rhodey lets him, because you can’t stop Tony once he loves something (and Rhodey is kind of. Fond of him). 

Pepper comes up from the fifth floor, whistling. 

“Damn, Jim. I knew you would do a good job with decorations, but not this good. Is this...did you buy a miniature village? How was this budgeted?” 

“It wasn’t,” Rhodey says. “Tony’s really into Christmas and the floor convinced him that the theme should be Christmas Village. He’s been crafting identities for each villager instead of studying for any exam. The craft store employees know him by name now.” 

“Well, we all have our vices. You two seem to get along well. Housing is pleased that he hasn’t blown up anything yet.” 

“If they try to serve cheese ravioli again, he might.” 

“That’s a problem for Dining,” Pepper reminds him.  

“Still, it’s abominable. Where did they get them, bottom of the Hudson River?” 

She snorts, adjusting her shirt. 

“Probably, but hey. They still got eaten, even if that one freshman threw them all back up at the entrance.” 

“It was payback, they were vile.” 

Tony waltzes into the lobby, arms filled with glittering tinsel. 

“We are not letting you hang that,” Pepper says, gaping at it all. “Do you know how hard it is to get rid of tinsel?”

“We’ll manage!” Tony says. “Also, are you free at six-thirty?” 

“No, that’s when we’re getting dinner on my floor, what do you need?” 

“Just that little tidbit of knowledge,” Tony says, looking down at his phone. 

A message buzzes from the groupchat, and Rhodey glances at it: 

We are a go for the real Christmas tree. I have the vacuum, and a believable lie. Rhodey’s gonna tell us when the RA on duty is gonna come so we can hide it. 

Rhodey looks at Tony, grinning. He smiles right back. 

“Is there some weird roommate telekinesis I’m missing here?” Pepper asks. 

“Yes,” Rhodey says. “We’re discussing dinner plans.” 

Another text from Harley: 

I’m already picking one out with Peter. I have good taste. When is the ornament-making party? 

Pepper looks at them. 

“You’re planning something that I probably would have to disapprove of. I’ll tell people I got your floor watched tonight.” 

“Pepper, light of my life, my absolute sunshine? You’re the best,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey-darling, help me with tinsel?” 

He can’t say no. Simple as that. 

That is how tinsel gets strung throughout his hair as he’s watching Tony climb onto chairs that shouldn’t be climbed on to hang it from everywhere. 

“People deserve to have a good-looking Christmas,” he says. “Besides, I wanna win the decoration contest.” 

Rhodey laughs. 

“Okay, okay. I think we got it in the bag.” 

Later on in the week, Tony can be seen flitting about from room to room with help and jokes to lighten the mood. 

Rhodey has to admit, being an RA with Tony around is...nice. Better than he thought. 

And maybe he has feelings. He’s not going to say anything about it. After all, they’re roommates. He also isn’t allowed to have a relationship with anyone on the floor, regardless of anything. 

It doesn’t mean every RA follows it. God knows Sharon’s snuck down to the fourth floor to see Sam near-about every night, and her residents usually keep it a pretty good secret. 

Still. There’s also everything else to consider, and the fact that he doesn’t even know if Tony likes him like that. 

He doesn’t have to focus on it. 

- 

At least, not until the week of finals when he’s dying and Tony’s made him peppermint hot chocolate and sits on his bed, just about an inch away from his notes for his history class. 

“Do you remember what you told me on the phone?” Tony asks softly. 

“You up to compete against Jeanie for this year’s ice hockey championship?” Rhodey asks, smiling. 

Tension releases from Tony’s shoulders. 

“Only so long as you’ll have me.” 

“Always, genius. Always.” 

- 

After the last resident leaves for the holiday and Rhodey checks in with those who are staying, he and Tony hit the road, dragging suitcases behind them. 

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” Tony asks. “I can always find a hotel along the way...” 

“Mama wants to meet you, I keep telling them a ton about you,” Rhodey says, laughing. “They told me they want to hear your side of the great Glitter Debacle.” 

Tony laughs. 

“You mean the truth?” 

“Uh, I’m sorry, how are you going to convince them that green glitter was needed? And that you could clean it out of carpet?” 

“Determination and grit?” 

Rhodey laughs again as they pull onto the highway. 

- 

After a couple of hours, they make it to Rhodey’s home. His sister comes out, hugs for both. 

“Good to meet you Tony,” Jeanie says. “I’ve heard a lot, and I think we’re going to get along awesomely after I tell you every single embarrassing thing that Jim’s ever done.” 

“Only if I get to share stories too,” Tony teases, grinning. “Aw, they call you Jim?” 

“What do you call him?” Jeanie asks. 

“Jim-Jam, angel-dear, sugar-puff, Rhodey. You know, the usual.” 

Jeanie snorts, taking one of Rhodey’s bags. 

“Calling you the first one from now on.” 

“Tony did you have to let her hear any of those?” Rhodey asks, exasperated in a teasing manner. 

“Of course I did,” Tony sing-songed. “Now after you, I’m sure your mom is waiting to hug the living daylights out of you.” 

- 

It’s not until Rhodey gets all settled in and Tony is downstairs competing with his dad in a round of chess that Jeanie sits on his bed, the intention to annoy. 

But it’s...different. She looks at him. 

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” 

Rhodey stills. 

“You wouldn’t have told him he could come here if you didn’t.” 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right,” Jeanie says, flipping braids over her shoulder. “Nice of you to finally realize that I’m the smart one.” 

Rhodey doesn’t say anything as she saunters out of the room. 

He makes the decision not to tell Tony. 

If it goes wrong and if Tony says no, he doesn’t want it to be an awkward family event but more importantly, the most awkward rest of the year ever. He can say it as they’re moving out, and that’s that. 

He tells Jeanie as such. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” she says as they’re preparing the soup for dinner.” 

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Rhodey says. “I do believe in love. There’s a difference.” 

There’s a hell of a difference. 

First sight, you don’t know everything. The second, third, fourth, fifth, and so on? Oh you learn so much more, and they become that more important. 

He learns that he doesn’t mind picking up tinsel, so long as Tony is laughing and singing along to all of the worst Christmas songs ever, and maybe. Just maybe he could picture looking at Tony underneath the fairy-lights that they hung in the dorm room for all time. 

Love is terrifyingly exhilarating, even when it isn’t supposed to be. 

Rhodey did not think his heart would race so much as Tony listened to his Mama talk about her wedding china, about the utter disaster that his father was. 

“He forgot his tie,” Mama said, smiling. “Oh my lord, my mother had a cow about that. I thought he looked kind of dashing.” 

Tony’s eyes drift towards the wedding pictures, which are slightly shaky, but everyone had such wide smiles. 

It’s a far cry from the publicity photos from the Stark wedding, Rhodey remembers the solemn expressions, the stuff tuxedos. 

“I love it,” Tony says softly. He looks at Rhodey across the table, setting down the final plate. “Tell me more, Mrs. Rhodes.” 

“Call me Mama, honey, Mrs. Rhodes is for people I don’t like that much. I think you’re gonna be my new favorite.” 

“Even over me?” Jeanie says, grinning as she kisses Dad on the cheek. “I’m your favorite.” 

“You’re my favorite until now,” Mama says. “Don’t think I don’t know that you skipped out on setting the table because Tony was here and graciously offered.” 

“It was nothing,” Tony says. “Just happy to help. Thank you for letting me stay at your home for the holidays.” 

“We’re always lucky to have guests,” Dad says, setting down the main dish. “Now let’s eat.” 

Family dinner is a brand new concept to Tony. He’s had maybe four or five of them, and the majority of which were staged for some holiday shoot or some “celebrating American values” shoot. 

It was awkward, weird, and he didn’t get why. 

Now, he does. Jeanie has been steadily moving mashed potatoes away from Rhodey’s plate, and Mama caught her eye and winked, distracting him with talk about his college major and news about the neighbors. 

Mr. Rhodes watches it all with a careful eye and a lax smile. 

After dinner, they play cards. 

It should be boring, but Jeanie puts on an old record and Rhodey keeps trying to count cards, and Tony didn’t think you could count cards in a game of Spoons. 

“You can’t, he’s just a try-hard,” Jeanie stage-whispers. 

“You-” 

Jeanie laughs, rolling herself out of Rhodey’s grasp as he chases her around the family room. Tony leans back into the couch, and shouts with surprise as Jeanie trips Rhodey into the couch. 

His body twists, and Rhodey’s facing him on the couch and they’re close and with the fire roaring in the fireplace and the Christmas lights outside shining through the windows, it’s almost magic. 

It is magic, but Rhodey is kind of terrified of that. 

Tony breathes in, breathes out. 

“Hello sugar-puff,” he says. 

“Hello genius,” Rhodey says, a smile on his face. 

Oh. 

The night does not get much sleep. 

Tony doesn’t sleep anyway, but Rhodey finds that quite often he can’t sleep without some softly-playing rock in the background, doesn’t matter if it is a highly-questionable AC/DC song. That and Tony softly murmuring about his plans, and it’s like a personalized lullaby. 

Rhodey cannot sleep. Tony’s in the guest room, and he can’t sleep. 

There’s a soft knock on his door. 

Tony’s there in shorts and a t-shirt that’s probably expensive, but he’ll never say if it is or not. 

“Can I...I can’t sleep.” 

“Get in here, Tones. I can’t sleep either.” 

The bed is a tight squeeze, but they make it work. 

Rhodey whispers until he drifts off to sleep about Christmas and school and everything else. 

Tony watches with quiet eyes, interjecting with his own stories occasionally. 

They fall asleep tangled up together, and Rhodey doesn’t mind it one bit, not as he pulls Tony in closer. 

-

Waking up is bittersweet, honestly. Rhodey has Tony in his arms, and that’s...that’s perfect. He thinks this is going to be the best thing that’s ever happened in his lifetime. 

“It’s too early, darling,” Tony groans. The light from outside is already peeking through the blinds, and he has stuffed his head right back into a pillow. 

“Jeanie’ll be here soon to bother us for Christmas breakfast,” Rhodey says. “And unless you want her pouncing on the bed and landing on wrong everything, we better get down there.” 

Tony smiles sleepily, stretching. 

“Thanks for letting me sleep in your room, honey-bunch.” 

“No problem,” Rhodey said. “Missed the constant AC/DC and late-night discussions about robotics.” 

“Not like I did much talking, Mr. Sap,” Tony teased. “Or was it me who mentioned that they had a favorite plate for dinner?” 

“Listen, it’s superior and you did not once interrupt that story to complain. I think I did a great job explaining it.” 

Tony laughs. 

“I’m gonna go get dressed, okay?” 

“Not until after present unwrapping,” Rhodey says. “We stay in pajamas.” 

“I’m cold,” Tony whines. 

Rhodey chucks his sweatshirt at him. 

“Then here you go.” 

Tony’s eyes light up as he shrugs it on, wiggling as he brings it up to his nose. It shouldn’t be that cute. But it is. 

“You are the light of my life.” 

Rhodey laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“Maybe. Now come on.” 

They head downstairs together, and they both get swept up into the speed of things, with Jeanie racing around the house and telling Tony that he got treats too, they just didn’t have a back-up stocking. 

“Hush,” Mr. Rhodes says, handing Tony a carefully wrapped gift. “After breakfast, we’ll go ahead and open it.” 

He smiles, and Rhodey thinks it’s the best thing he’ll ever see. 

- 

Christmas gifts, Rhodey thinks, are his new favorite thing to see Tony interact with. 

It’s painfully obvious that he’s never really had any personal gifts, anything that reminds people of himself. He carefully unwraps the paper, careful not to rip it. 

“You nerd,” Rhodey says, grinning. “Come on, show us what you got.” 

Tony laughs as he opens a box with two coffee mugs from the rest of the family, emblazoned with “Rhodes” on one cup, and the other being a simple red with gold trim. 

“They’re perfect,” he says. “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re feeding his coffee addiction,” Rhodey answers. 

“Like you aren’t doing the same,” Jeanie teases. “You made him his cups of coffee this morning.” 

“That is because I have trained him well,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey, here’s my present to you, open it.” 

He’s nervous. 

Both of them are, but Tony especially so. 

He told Rhodey once that he’s not good at shopping for other people. He tends to have the phrase “go big or go home” permanently circling in his mind, and it can lead to...complications. 

(Rhodey remembers the overhaul of his closet for his birthday, complete with a visit from a rather well-known designer.) 

Inside is a beautiful jacket. It’s all patchwork, artfully sewn together with embroidery thread spelling out “James” at the lapel. 

“I commissioned Janet,” Tony says, smiling softly. “She wants you to still walk in her fashion show, by the way. Says you’re a model.” 

Rhodey snorts, shrugging on the jacket. 

“You helped with this, right?” Rhodey says. “I can see it in the gold thread you got on the sleeves.” 

“I may have had some creative input.” 

“I love it,” Rhodey says. “Now here’s mine.” 

Tony breathes, and Rhodey wonders if this gift will be enough. He feels a bit stupid, it doesn’t seem like that great of a gift, in retrospect- 

It’s a puzzle. 

A puzzle of their favorite cafe and restaurant to go to at MIT. It was in a shop window, and Rhodey could tell that Tony would love it. 

On top is a scarf, since Tony gave away his last one to another student in their philosophy class. 

“I love it,” Tony breathes, tackling Rhodey in a hug. “I love it, I love it! We have to do the puzzle after this.” 

Mrs. Rhodes sends her husband a look. 

Yeah, Tony would be around for a long time. 

- 

They set up the puzzle on the floor of Rhodey’s room, clearing away any luggage. It’s silent for a while, Tony moving around the pieces and Rhodey looking for edge pieces. 

They work closely together, side by side. 

Rhodey can’t stop staring. 

He should be able to. He’s stopped himself before, but now? 

Sunlight is coming in through the window, playing around Tony’s fingers as he nimbly picks up puzzle pieces, and this is the eternity that Rhodey wants so badly. If he died right now, he thinks he would choose for Heaven to look like this. 

“You okay?” Tony asks, eyes looking up. He took his contacts out, and now he’s just in his tortoiseshell glasses, the ones that he secretly likes more and Rhodey loves. 

“I’m in love with you,” Rhodey blurts out, because he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful Tony is and how much he loves him. 

He realizes that this could very well be considered a mistake. Because they still have to live together and drive back together and it won’t be the same, and the residents will notice no matter how well they both act--

Tony pops his head right under Rhodey’s chin. 

“Kiss me?” 

That’s all it takes. 

They mess up part of the puzzle, but that’s okay. They find they don’t mind it too much. They can work on it later, when Tony’s done getting Rhodey out of his new jacket and Rhodey works his hands underneath Tony’s sweatshirt. 

-

Mama takes one look at them for dinner and grins. 

“Jeanie, you owe me a night of dish-washing.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Mama!” Rhodey hisses, embarrassed beyond belief. 

Tony just cackles, and elbows Rhodey out of the way so he can get to his chair at the table. 

“Couldn’t have fooled you for a second, could we?” Tony teases. 

“Not at all,” Mama states proudly. 

Rhodey rolls his eyes and squeezes Tony’s hand under the table. All will be well. 

- 

When they both get back to college, none of their residents are surprised, at least not until they have to have a “knocking before entering” policy put in place after one particular late morning. 

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt 3 (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4, Pt 5)

-----

There were two things in life that Peter was unequivocally certain were true.

Number one was that Monday mornings were a universally despised, unpleasant experience that no weekend could ever ease the pain of having to endure.

And number two: Sit-ups were a specific and profound mechanism of torture that no person should ever be required to engage in, recreationally or mandated.

Of course, it would be just his luck that the two were combined on this very Monday morning.

It was cruel and unusual is what it was, Peter thought, hands curled at his temples as he pushes himself into a sitting position, falling back onto the dewy grass with a thud that steals the breath from his chest.

Bucky, holding his ankles, encourages him to complete his set.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps, his stomach trembling as he pulls himself up again. “I - oh fuck - I hate this. I hate exercise.”

Bucky squeezes his ankles tighter. “C’mon, Parker, only three more. You can do it.”

Peter shakes his head, even as he pulls himself up again with a pained groan.

“No, I can’t. Make it stop.”

“Two more. You got it. Sit-ups are not the boss of you.”

“Yes - ahh - they are!”

“One more!”

Sweat pours down his neck and his muscles protest as he pulls himself up for the last time. He gets probably only most of the way up before his gravity slams to the ground.

Bucky slaps his bare calf encouragingly as Peter stares up into the glaring morning sun, arms splayed out, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Oh, god. Never again. That was the worst. 

Covering his eyes with his quivering arms he wonders if maybe coach will indulge him just this once. Maybe he can stay here until training is over, perhaps curl up into a ball and try to blend in with the grass so that no one sees him or subjects him to any more exercise. 

Except Coach Danvers is already yelling at him to get off the ground and get moving.

He smacks his hands over his ears but it’s no use.

“Get up Parker, last warning!”

“Respite!” He yells back pleadingly, curling in tighter upon himself. “Please!”

Her whistle pierces the air.

“Now!”

Coach has been on edge all morning. Her harsh has turned razor edged in the face of their upcoming match against Kingston this Thursday, reminding the team of her expectations, tolerating nothing other than complete dedication.

Which, whatever.

Peter’s dedicated, okay? It’s Monday. He dragged his ass out of bed to be here at an unholy hour, exhausted and bloated from his indulgent weekend, didn’t he?

Erring on the margin of spite towards Danvers and self motivation, which he suspects is her aim, he pushes himself back up. Taking each of Bucky’s ankles in his grip, he starts counting as Bucky begins his set. 

Not that he needs the assistance, Bucky proves his strength by ripping through the set like a bull stampeding through a brick wall. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Dude’s crazy athletic.

It’s really not fair.

As he mentally counts the reps, Peter thinks Bucky’s the kind of fit that Peter both hoped and never hoped to be. He’s effortlessly capable at any physical task, but he works hard for it, harder than Peter would ever dream of working, dedicating hours to gym time and conditioning. Bucky’s not even out of breath when he strikes up conversation. 

“How was your weekend, PP?”

“S’okay. Played Mario Kart with my Aunt all weekend.”

Bucky grins as his upper half rises to meet his knees. “Oh, party animal. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” Peter grins wryly, taking one of his hands from the other’s ankle to push the sweat-damp hair from his eyes. “Kicked my ass though. She always takes Toad.”

“Switch?”

“Nah, GameCube. How was your weekend?”

“Boring. Parents were home all weekend and wanted some ‘family time’.”

“So, you just watched The Voice all weekend?”

“Yup.”

“Nat sneak in after?”

“Yup. How’d it go with Stark on Friday?” Bucky accepts Peter’s hand as he finishes his set. Peter pulls him up and pats him on the back.

The set off in a jog to complete a lap of the field, Coach yells that only five minutes are left, urging them to pick up speed. Peter’s lungs burn when he speaks.

“It was fine.”

Bucky looks at him dubiously, flyaways whipping at his face.

“Well not like, fine-fine, but no bloodshed. See? All limbs intact.” He holds his arms out mid-sprint. 

“Wow, so you’re basically best friends now.”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands and braid each other’s hair?”

Incensed, Peter shoves at Bucky to the sound of his snickering,

“Ew, stop, I just had breakfast. Look, the first experience was painful enough. Can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about it.”

---

“And then he hit on my Aunt,” Peter complains in the showers, soaping up his chest. “Literally right in front of me. Who does that?”

“Did she flirt back?” Bucky asks, dipping his head into the spray. 

“What? No. He said he was just trying to get under my skin,” he puts his head beneath his own shower head, the water pleasantly lukewarm against his heated skin. “I mean, what kind of psychopath does that?”

“Yeah, but your aunt is super hot though,” Wilson says to his right. “Stark’s an asshole, but he’s not crazy.”

There is a general murmur of agreement around the showers. 

“I’m going to need you all to shut up right now,” Peter warns, turning to point at them all. “Keep my aunts name out of your mouth while you’re washing your balls, alright?”

“You heard him, move on,” Rogers cuts in, offering Peter a sympathetic smile. 

He nods gratefully as conversation quickly turns to girls, grades and the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays. There was a reason why Peter was on Roger’s side all these weeks ago, he thinks, observing how the entire team respects his command without query. The guy was just interested in doing the right thing, and that’s pretty cool.

By the time they’re all dried and dressed, the topic is forgotten, much to Peter’s relief. He’s nearly late to first period though, too busy watching Wilson and Barnes smack each other with wet towels and attempting to tame his unruly curls into something resembling neatness. He’s not proud of the amount of gel it takes, but it’s what he’s got to work with. 

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his appearance or anything, but he has a routine that he sticks to. Gel and lots of it.

Once, in third grade, Flash pulled one of Peter’s tightly coiled ringlet between his fingers, pulled on it and said oink. Peter still had some lingering baby fat at the time and so, as cruel as children can be, Peter was donned Piggy Parker for a time afterwards. Sometimes Porky Parker. They’re friends now, but the oinking and snuffling that followed him around the playground still haunts him.

Anyway.

On the way to first period Rogers walks alongside him down the hall. They have English together, but usually make their way separately. It kind of weirded Peter out for a moment because while they’re team-mates, they’re not really friends. 

“Heard you got paired with Stark for an assignment,” the other boy says, his wry smile caught between amused and sympathetic. “That’s shit luck, Parker.” 

“You’re telling me,” Peter agrees, waving to Ned and Betty as they pass. “Dude’s a freakin’ prick.”

Rogers bumps their shoulders together.

“You said it. Want me to have a word with him, get him to back off?”

“Nah,” Peter shakes his head. “I can handle Stark, he’s just some bored rich kid looking for a fight. Besides,” he gives Rogers a once-over, “pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your distance after your last brawl with him.”

“True,” he concedes, clamping Peter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as they stop before their room. “But we’re a team, alright? Just say the word and I’ll encourage some sense into him. Promise to be gentle.”

Peter clamps his hands over his heart with a flair of drama, despite being truly touched. “You’re my hero, Captain Rogers.”

Rogers rolls his eyes and shoves him into the classroom.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s go.”

Inside, he smiles sheepishly at Mrs Perez who glowers at them for their lateness and takes his usual seat between Clint and Shuri. He signs a good morning to the former and smiles at the latter, who is staring down at her desk with disdain.

“What’s wrong?” He nudges her chair with his foot to grab her attention.

“The curriculum.” She raises her head and points to the board miserably. It reads Lord of the Flies.

Oh, great. He could use the nap.

Peter smiles sympathetically, opening his nearly full notebook up to a blank page. “How was your weekend?”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Mmm,” She nods, gesturing airily. “You know, eh. Oh, oh! I heard you spent the weekend getting cosy with Stark,” Shuri follows, pretending to search through their textbook. “Wow, that’s a three-sixty, PP. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Peter hisses, voice lowering when their teacher looks around as roll-call commences. “That’s not -- ”

“Parker!” Perez yells for roll call.

“Present!”

Shuri snickers as Peter’s hand shoots up.

Lucky for him it’s the last he hears of it.

Kinda.

---

His next class is Bio with MJ who, thankfully, says very little through class. She inspects him with bleary eyes when he enters, nursing a coffee in her hands, always earlier than Peter who has to come from the other side of the school.

Peter’s grateful for the reprieve. When she does speak to him, it’s to borrow a pen or to offer him a sip of her coffee. It’s not a lab class today, only note-taking and listening to their teacher drone on about plant anatomy in the same monotone, so he accepts the bitter black coffee without hesitation.

It’s only then that he ventures to initiate conversation.

“So,” he begins precariously, doodling in his notebook, “how was your weekend?”

She shrugs, appearing more awake than earlier. “It was okay. You?”

“It was okay.”

And that was that, he’s relieved to note, companionable silence falling between again as they turn their attention to their teacher again. It’s not until they’re packing up their books at the end of class that MJ speaks to him again.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, dude. Save us a table?”

“You bet. Oh, and by the way, I heard Stark is gonna be your new step-daddy. Congrats.”

Peter groans.

“How do you -- you know what, no,” he says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders and making a x with his arms. “Nope. No more talking about Stark, he is persona non grata. I’m traumatised enough.”

MJ pushes his glasses up after they slipped precariously down his nose during his declaration. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

He bumps their shoulders together on the way out of the room and shakes his head.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

---

Ned texts him during recess; Peter is taking an extended break in the bathroom despite not needing to be there, but he’s definitely not hiding, nope. He’s just chilling in the cubicle.

< heard stark spent the weekend < lol wtf < plz verify < actually i don’t want to know < no wait i do tell me < dude

< hello?

----

Traitors, all of them.

He wonders if he should leave this school and start anew elsewhere.

---

Here’s the thing.

As much as Peter loves his friends, he has limits to how long he can spend with them before needing a time out.

They’re his motley crew of village idiots. Some he’s known since first grade, like Ned and Flash, others only since he came to the school and subsequently, the football team.

This school headhunted him because of his academic merit. With his pursuit of scholastic excellence - and the fact that some of his best friends would be attending the school, he applied for and was awarded a scholarship. It was a no-brainer - he had big dreams and even bigger expectations of himself to achieve them and he wanted May to be proud of him.

Which was why when it was suggested that he try out for JV, having exhibited some physicality during gym class, he decided to give it a try. It would look great to have on his applications, he was assured.

So he did. Somehow his wiry frame and years of gymnastics was considered an asset and he was promptly recruited by Coach Danvers. At first he deeply regretted the additional commitment -- the early hours, the soreness, adapting to the internal culture within the team. But he’s persevered and he’s glad that he did. 

And for the most part, he copes okay. He can juggle football obligations and after-school activities and the odd tutoring jobs here and there and stay sane, right?

Sort of.

Because as grateful as he was for his broad circle of friends, Peter was still, at heart, an introvert. And right now, his social energy is running on fumes. 

It’s because of this - and nothing to do with the relentless questions about Stark - that Peter retreats to the library at lunch that day. 

Nestled away in the dusty, back corner, near the collection of old encyclopaedias that nobody reads, are an assortment of bean bags. It’s away from the main area, quiet and disregarded by most. It used to be a thriving recreational area way before Peter’s time, but there wasn’t any maintenance to it over the years. Now the bags are old, terribly lumpy and are speckled with suspicious stains, the fabric is thinning and aged. Most people purposefully avoid the old rec area, which is why Peter likes this spot best. It’s his secret hiding space.

He prepares to disassociate for the next forty minutes by getting comfortable on his favorite bean bag and popping his earphones in. 

Next, he retrieves his slightly soggy ham-tomato sandwich from his bag and takes a large bite after unwrapping it. The first burst of tomato hits his tongue at the same time as the music begins. 

Ah, to be alone.

Closing his eyes, he allows his body to sink into the bag and for his thoughts to wander freely.

Of course, because his luck is as poor as he is, his seclusion lasts all of three songs before someone else enters into his space. Well it’s not his space, technically, but it should be. 

When Peter creaks an eye open to see who is intruding he’s surprised to see Thor perched on the bean-chair opposite him. They catch each others stare and smile.

Well, alone time is overrated. 

Maybe his luck isn’t down the drain after all - because this is his opportunity to prove he isn’t a total fumbling loser. He doesn’t know which deity he pleased to be alone in a quiet corner of the library with Thor, but someone up there is clearly looking out for him.

He wants to say something, to strike up a conversation that might make Peter seem cool and only casually interested - something that would make him sound both smart and like, available.

But not too available. 

With little success, Peter wracks his brain for the best opening line but frets because he’s ever been cool or collected a day in his life. And great, now he’s just been sitting there smiling for like two whole minutes like an absolute weirdo. Come on, Parker, say something! 

Thor acts well before Peter has the chance to say anything, pointing at him, his mouth moving with words Peter can’t hear. 

Realising a moment too late that his earphones are still playing music from his phone, Peter hurries to tug them out if his ears, smacking himself in the face in the .

“Sorry, I was --” Peter gestures to his ears, hands shaking, cheeks going hot. God, Thor is talking to him. Him! Peter Parker! “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said I like your shirt!” Thor replies, way more loudly than what would normally be socially acceptable for a library, but Peter does not care. Thor likes his shirt.

“This?” He asks, gesturing downwards to his shirt where crumbs are dusted at the collar. “You like Nirvana?”

“I do not know Nirvana,” Thor smiles, “but it looks very cool. Peter, right?”

“Uh yeah,” he nods, face positively flaming because again, he knows Peter’s name. Quickly sweeping the crumbs from his shirt, he extends his hand out to the older boy who shakes his hand. Holy shit. Be cool. “I’m Parker -- I mean, Peter. Yes. Nice to be here. I mean, nice to be speaking. To you.”

Even as Peter’s arm is roughly jostled with Thor’s exuberant hand-shaking embarrassment crawls up his neck, and he wants to disintegrate into the bean bag where no one has to witness his persistent, glaring awkwardness. Palms sweating, Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting on how big Thor’s hands are.

Stop it, he scolds himself, be normal, play it cool.

“Thor, right?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t doodle their initials together in his notebooks. “You were at training last week.”

“Yes, you fell on your face,” Thor nods, gesturing to the yellowed bruising on his jaw, “I saw.”

“Oh, okay, so you saw that! Uhh -- ” Peter waves a hand at his face, laughing nervously. “This? It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”

“You are clumsy,” Thor states, not unkindly.

“Well, no -- I mean, yes --” Peter tries to come up with an explanation, but falls short. “I’m not always a klutz, promise. Just sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us. Well, not myself, but you know, generally speaking. In any case, I’m happy to see you’re okay.” 

Thor unzips his backpack then and from within it retrieves a truly gargantuan protein shake, followed by a sub wrapped in foil so large it could be the same size as Peter’s forearm. Sneaking a look down at the remainder of his own lunch, his pickings look pretty slim in comparison. 

“Sorry,” Thor says. “Just peckish for a snack.”

Peter watches, dazed, as the older boy consumes half his sub in a single bite, washing it down with several mouthfuls of his shake.

A snack.

“You’re fine. Anyway, football isn’t really my forte,” he admits after a moment, drawing his knees up. “I mean, I’m okay at it and I like it, but it’s not really what I’m best at, y’know?”

The blond boy nods, “I’m on the varsity team,” he proclaims, wiping his mouth. “Whatever that means.”

His accent is so thick it takes Peter half a moment to figure out what it was that he said. 

He’s not sure if Thor is being serious or not but the one question Peter has is why is he so fucking cute? 

A silence follows, albeit not an awkward one. It gives Peter the opportunity to inspect the older boy, nearly a man at his height and stature, of course helped along by the generous distribution of facial hair across his lower face. 

“Uh, did you play football back at home?” Peter asks, keen to keep conversation going. “Soccer?”

“Oh yes,” the boy nods. “Soccer, tennis, volleyball. Water polo. Badminton.”

“Wow,” Peter blinks, “that’s a lot of sport. You’re like the whole Olympics here.”

He’s awarded with a lazy grin for that comment. Thor, to his credit, doesn’t appear to be boastful about his physicality, seemingly a result of his passions instead of a product of vanity.

“Close enough, I suppose. What else do you play, besides football?”

“Uhh --”

Oh god. How is he supposed to respond to that when the idea of doing additional sports outside of football is abhorrent? He can’t tell Thor that. Surely he can fake a common interest. Think of something, Parker, think, think.

The first bell rings, saving him from having to provide a potentially humiliating answer, seeing as all how all that could think of was chess, or PC. Both of which are true and accurate, but not exactly something he thinks that would make him appear more attractive or endearing.

Thank god for fifth period.

“To be continued?” Peter asks as he picks up his backpack, just a little hopeful.

There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs, moment filled with odd squeaks of polystyrene as they attempt to stand.

Thor nods and to Peter’s surprise, doesn’t immediately rush to get away from him. There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs with, odd squeaks of polystyrene as they stand. Instead, he accompanies Peter all the way out of the library, walking alongside him into the main hallway where a flurry of students are intersecting to get to their next class, walking alongside him.

Heads turn to watch them as they depart the library and enter the halls. For a moment, as kids part like the red sea to make way for them - for Thor - Peter wonders if this is what it’s like to be famous. Or to be on the arm of someone famous. It certainly feels like it, because even though the revere isn’t for Peter specifically, it seems like the weight of everyone’s awe is on them.

He doesn’t like the attention. But he likes Thor.

To his delight, the older boy follows him to his locker. Embarrassingly, it sticks when Peter tries to open it, as it usually does. He struggles with it for long, humiliating moments before Thor opens it with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says, blush creeping back up his neck. “You’re like, crazy strong, dude.”

Thor flexes and inspects his own bicep, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Perhaps,” he concedes, smiling roguishly. “Back at home I used to lift my brother for weight training.”

“You what?”

“A story for another time,” Thor shakes his head, shuffling closer to be heard over the traffic of students. “Anyway, I should be going. But there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if I may take a moment --”

Peter freezes. Oh my god, this is it, he thinks. 

It’s happening.

“-- seeing as you and I have similar interests and we seem compatible, it would please me greatly if you would agree to --”

Heart racing, Peter turns, a fervent yes already on his lips.

It dies when there is a loud call of his name in the hall.

“-- Hey, Parker!”

Whatever Thor was going to say wilts at the interruption, seemingly forgotten as he waves at the intruder. Peter turns to see who called out for him and instantly wishes he didn’t.

Heart dropping to his stomach, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. 

This is his luck.

Never has he wanted to melt into the floor and die like he does right now as Stark approaches the pair in quick strides.

Hands shoved into his jean pockets, Stark’s wide eyes dart between them inquisitively, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face, disappearing just as quick.

“Well, pardon me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony places a hand on his heart and leans on the locker next to Peters. “Thor, barely a pleasure as always.”

“Stark,” Thor nods.

Tony simpers, smile saccharine sweet and gestures to an uneasy Peter.

“I am just so sorry to intrude, but would you mind if I spoke to my husband here? He’s such a slippery one, aren’t you, sweetums?”

Thor looks between them, head going to and fro like a pendulum.

“He’s not my husband,” Peter rushes to assure, acutely pincered between Thor’s confusion and Tony’s mischief. “I mean he is, but it’s for an assignment. We’re not really -- it’s not real. I don’t like him.”

Tony exhales heavily, looking at Thor with dismay. “That’s not what he said in our wedding vows.”

Peter wants to punch him in the throat.

“I understand,” Thor smiles, patting each of them on the shoulder. He dips his chin and catches Peter’s eye. “To be continued?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter nods enthusiastically, probably too enthusiastically, he thinks, as his aim is to pretend to be cool and disinterested, but he doesn’t even care because maybe not all is lost after all. “To be continued. See you.”

All of the pomp bleeds away from Tony as Thor walks away, his posture turning into a slump against the locker.

The smile drops from Peter’s face. He sends Tony a heated glare as he retrieves from his books, shoving them into his bag.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, slamming his locker shut. “You have the worst timing, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the other boy shrugs. “What can I say, I’m delightful.”

“You’re deplorable.”

Tony gasps in mock offence. “Deplorable? Good lord, Parker, is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“If the shoe fits,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I have to go to class. Say what you want or move out of the way.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon, what were you and He-Man grunting about, hmm? Grr, me big, you tiny?”

“Unless you have a point,” Peter asks, pointing to the main hall, “I’m leaving.”

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, however the glib expression doesn’t quite leave his face. But at that moment Peter doesn’t have it within him to care, he’s not here to entertain him and sooner they get this over with, the better.

“Alright, alright, buzzkill. Come outside, I have to talk to you about the assignment.”

Peter looks at him, perturbed. 

“I need a smoke,” he explains, tutting at Peter dispiritedly. “Also, don’t lie, I know it’s your free period.”

He doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, heading straight for the double doors that lead to the courtyard at a sedate enough pace for Peter to follow. Nonetheless he jogs a few paces to catch up after debating whether or not it was a good idea to follow or if he should hide in the boys bathroom.

Again.

It’s fairly chilly out, the wind whipping through his clothes. He wishes he had a scarf or gloves or something, opting to shove his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and hooking the hood over his head.

“How do you know it’s my free period?” he queries loud enough to be heard over the wind. 

“Because,” Tony turns to walk backwards, the breeze whistling around them, “it’s also my free period and you always stink up the library so I can’t go there,” he rounds the corner to lead Peter to the shaded area behind the auditorium where a few students are lingering, most of them smoking. 

“And you take the best seat. Personally, I think it’s selfish. I can’t possibly sit there after your ass has warmed it.”

Willing himself to not rise to Tony’s level of pettiness, he crosses his arms over his chest as they come to a stop. The wind is at full force now that the surrounding buildings aren’t taking the brunt of it and it is cold as all hell, although Tony’s in a black t-shirt and doesn’t look affected at all, probably because he’s cold-blooded or warmed by hellfire.

Tony cups his hands over his lighter to protect the flame from the breeze, struggling briefly to light his cigarette. Once the end is properly alight, Tony takes a drag while staring at him. 

His hand comes to rest at his thigh, smoke rising idly from the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales the smoke in Peters direction.

“Wow. You’re disgusting,” he waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the smell. “Don’t you know second-hand smoke can kill?”

"Yes. Do you want a drag to speed up the process?”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says as Tony seems to find himself funny, offering up the cigarette in jest. Peter has half a mind to snatch it out of his hands and stomp on it. “I know that’s hard for you.”

“I’m joking, okay. I thought the wind would redirect the smoke. My bad.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, the assignment? Still waiting for whatever was so urgent."

Tony takes another drag, flicking ash to the ground before answering.

“I booked an appointment with a realtor for tomorrow after school.”

That has Peter’s curiosity piqued. “Really? Where?”

“LIC. One of the agents has agreed to be a reference so our domestic nightmare can be officially documented. Yay, go team.”

“Yay,” Peter deadpans. “What time?”

“Appointment’s at four-thirty,” Tony retrieves his phone from his pocket and hands it to Peter. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details.”

Peter accepts it with a grimace. It’s warm from Tony’s body heat. Ugh.

“And now you can say: ‘thank you for being proactive, Tony, you’re so much better than me, Tony’.”

“Thank you for being proactive, Anthony, even if you’re a self-aggrandizing jerk,” Peter mutters, voice getting progressively more sarcastic. 

A wide smile blooms on Tony’s face, clearly pleased with himself. 

“You’re welcome, Parker.”

He is going to let that one go, Peter decides, feeling magnanimous on spite of the circumstances. He’d never admit it, but he’s kinda surprised by Tony’s apparent initiative, and even genuinely a little grateful that the other boy has arranged this so quickly. Or even that he thought to arrange it at all - field research was one of the highest scoring components on the rubric for this assignment.

Eyes flicking up for a moment, he assesses the other boy. Maybe he’s not as much of a slacker as Peter thought he was.

Tony, slumped against the brick wall, rubs his stomach and burps quietly. 

Or maybe he is.

Nevertheless, Peter types in his details and saves his contact in Tony’s phone as Your Better Half. 

Peter isn’t too much to look at, he knows, but he’s not the weak link here.

Tony accepts the phone back and wipes the touch screen on his shirt before pocketing it. 

“Alright then, meet me after school tomorrow in the parking lot. Don’t be late,” he flicks his cigarette to the ground and steps on it to put it out. Tony bends at the waist then to pick up the stub, clutching it in his fist for later disposal instead of leaving it as litter.

That surprises Peter a little, it’s more thoughtful, conscious a gesture than he would have expected to come from Stark. Not that he’s ever personally seen such behaviour from him, but it wouldn’t be a stretch with his devil-may-care attitude. Would it?

He’s about to make mention of heading back inside when Stark takes two purposeful steps towards Peter, bridging the gap between them. 

Peter freezes on the spot, breath caught in his chest as Tony brings them nose-to-nose.

He flicks his eyes down at Tony’s lips when his solemn expression morphs into an impish smile.

“Dude, what -- ?”

While Peter is distracted, Tony’s hands dart out to grip the strings of Peter’s hoodie, tugging them until the hood shrinks around his face.

“Do me a solid and try to wear something that doesn’t make you look like you’re a step away from lining up at a soup kitchen, okay? Y’know, something nice.”

Peter smacks his hands away furiously, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Tony backs away, snickering.

“You really get off on being a prized piece of shit, don’t you?” he mutters, somewhat self conscious as he tries to correct the hood. “Poor jokes, that’s real nice. Sorry not all of us were born wearing Balenciaga.”

He continues to struggle with it as they move away and head back towards the main building, pushing it off his head altogether. 

“Calm down, Charlie Brown, it’s not that deep,” Tony says drily, although his flippant demeanour softens significantly. “I have no doubt that you’d still manage to look like a hobo even if you were loaded, okay. You just have that grubby vibe.” Tony claps his hands together. “So, tomorrow. Meet me in the parking lot. Yes?”

Inside, away from the wind, Peter is still helpless to quell the hurricane that is Tony Stark. He gives him a tired thumbs up.

With that Tony sets off in the opposite direction, leaving Peter to wonder what the hell just happened, and what his life has become these last few days. 

“What a jackass,” he says to himself.

Now alone, he rubs his hands up and down his face, fruitlessly attempting to scrub away the memory of Tony close to him, eyes warm with mirth, the heat of his body up close and the smell of nicotine on his breath as he quite literally tugged Peter’s strings. It takes longer than he likes to will the image away and to calm the furious beat of his heart.

Furious; a feeling Peter is becoming progressively more familiar - and uncomfortable with.

Ben used to say that being angry at someone was allowing them to take up space in your head, rent free. He was right, because it never served Peter well to house animosity when acceptance was kinder to his soul and psyche, and to others -- but he can’t help it with this guy. Tony Stark is like an ear worm of the brain. He has this completely obnoxious way of making himself front and centre despite Peter’s best efforts to cast him to the sidelines.

While he’s willing himself to move on his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a new message.

> ur not my better half, loser > why r u like this > nvm i already know lol. > remember, don’t be late 2morrow

Peter, just a little satisfied with himself for getting under Tony’s skin, saves his contact as Tiny Stank and types back quickly, eager to get back to his seat in the library - assuming Stark hasn’t already occupied it - and make the best of his remaining free period.

<  whatever helps u sleep at night < also, plz lose my number after this is over

> way ahead of u, princess > say hi to aunt may for me

Ugh, Peter cringes, pocketing his phone without replying.

That guy is the worst.

---

*

*

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends, @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix

[seasonsofeverlark]

I Don't Know Much (But I Know I Love You)

Author: @juxtaposie​​

Prompt:  An international student comes and they never celebrated thanksgiving or seen fall colours before. Coming from a country they don't see those colours often... It's amazing to them becuase they never had anything like this before maybe a first snow fall. [submitted by @katnissandpeeta125​]

Rating: T for some swearing and described adult activities

Summary: Katniss might be in love, so it’s really too bad she couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone she was bringing him to Thanksgiving.

Author’s Note: As before, many thanks to @mandelion82​​ for being my point person, @eiramrelyat​​ for keeping me on schedule, and @jroseley​​ for the proofread!

__________

The drive down from Boston had been rough. What should have taken eleven hours had taken closer to fourteen, the highways clogged with holiday traffic, but Peeta had been a good sport about it. He’d gamely manned the aux cable, fed her french fries in traffic, and even talked her down from rear-ending the asshole who’d cut them off when they’d merged on to US-50 in the last hour and a half of the drive. He’d made a hellish experience bearable, keeping her spirits up when they’d hit traffic - again - outside of Harrisburg and she’d nearly run off the road avoiding a pile-up. He’d smiled at her, and made her laugh, and kept her sane, and that feeling was bubbling again, that feeling that she’d been stomping on since the first time he’d put his arm around her (over the Irish breakfast plate, in a booth at the Wheelhouse Diner, both of them so hungover they could barely sit up). 

She hadn’t said it yet, but she could feel the words clogging her throat every time he held her hand, every time he put his arms around her, every time they made love. 

It was really going to break his heart when he realized she hadn’t told anybody she was bringing him. 

It wasn’t like she was keeping him a secret - not exactly, anyways. Prim knew they were kind of sort of dating, that they’d been out a few times and that Katniss liked him. What she didn’t know was that for the last month Peeta had more or less been living with her. He had his own apartment, of course, but she could barely remember the last time he’d slept there. He didn’t have a drawer or anything, but there was a stack of his clothes on the floor of the closet. His toothbrush was sharing a plastic bag with hers, packed neatly in her duffel, because she’d grabbed both of them out of the cup on the bathroom counter. She was wearing his oversized All Blacks sweatshirt. 

Jesus, why hadn’t she told anybody she was bringing him?

A low whistle from the passenger seat interrupted her shame spiral. The two-story ranch house had just come into sight at the end of a long drive lined with live oak trees. Even at 1am, the surrounding lawn was well-lit, and the house gleamed a shining white. Most of the windows were dark, but the porch lights were still on, and Katniss breathed a sigh of relief. She could stave off the shitshow for a few more hours at least. 

Peeta groaned as he climbed out of the car, stretching muscular arms above his head and across his chest. “Glad that’s done,” he said, smiling at her over the roof of the car. “I’m knackered.”

“You weren’t even driving,” Katniss groused as she popped the trunk on her second-hand Corolla. 

“The control freak at the wheel wouldn’t give me a turn,” he countered, maneuvering her out of the way so he could grab both their bags. 

“Can you blame me?” she asked as they climbed the steps up to the front porch. “You flat-out told me you drift into the left lane when you’re tired.” 

Their shared laughter died when the front door swung open abruptly. 

“Get your asses in the house,” Haymitch grumbled. “I wanna go to bed.”

Katniss froze, stunned by the complete nonchalance her uncle was displaying upon finding her on the porch with a strange man. Beside her, Peeta dropped one of the bags so he could offer his hand in greeting. 

“I’m-“

“Peeta, I know,” Haymitch interrupted before saying to Katniss, “He’ll have to sleep in the game room. Guest rooms are all taken.”

“You didn’t have to wait up,” Katniss said, kicking the door shut as they followed him into the house. 

“Nah, you know how your aunt is,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal. Then, turning to Peeta, “Game room is in the basement. Goodnight.”

Peeta just laughed, shaking his head a little, and turned to hand Katniss her bag. “Goodnight then, I guess,” he said, bending to kiss her gently, heedless of their company. 

“Goodnight,” she echoed softly, already feeling lonely at the prospect of sleeping without him.

“Hold on a second,” her uncle said when she turned resolutely toward the staircase.

Katniss paused, annoyed, and turned back to find him fighting back an obnoxious, shit-eating grin.

“Prim ratted me out,” she surmised.

“Sure as shit did,” Haymitch replied. When Katniss made a displeased sound in the back of her throat, he continued, “Didn’t say anything about him coming to Thanksgiving though, I’m guessing because you didn’t tell her.”

��I didn’t know if he wanted to come,” she tried to defend, but it was only partly true. 

Haymitch just shook his head at her, and headed for the stairs.

“For the record,” he said as he passed her, “I don’t care where you sleep. Just don’t let Effie catch the two of you. She’s already so far up my ass about tomorrow being perfect. Think she might stroke out if we add premarital cohabitation.”

“You lived together before you got married,” she protested, smiling.

“Goodnight,” was Haynitch’s only reply as he disappeared up the staircase. 

Biting back a grin, Katniss made her way toward the basement stairs. That hadn’t gone half bad. Maybe things would be fine.

***

Much too early, Katniss was dragged into consciousness by a loud slurping sound. She and Peeta had crammed onto the game room couch, clinging together so neither fell off, and she poked her head out from the warm cocoon of body heat and blankets to find Johanna Mason sitting on the floor, not three feet from the couch, with a large, steaming mug of black coffee.

Johanna took another loud, slurping sip, smacking her lips and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Who ya got under there, Brainless?” 

“Go away Johanna,” she grumbled, turning her face back into Peeta’s chest, which was now shaking beneath her in silent laughter. He’d clearly been awake longer than she had, and Katnuss groaned unhappily. If there was anyone in the house she wanted to keep Peeta away from, it was Johanna Mason.

“Hi,” Peeta said, extracting a hand from the blanket pile and reaching in Johanna’s direction. “I’m-“

“Peeta, I know,” Johanna said, taking his hand and shaking it so enthusiastically that Katniss was jostled.

“Did Prim tell everyone?” Katniss asked as she sat up, her ire rising.

“No,” Johanna said easily, still grinning. “But Haymitch did.”

Katniss scowled at her. “Why aren’t you asleep? In your own room. Far away from us.”

Johanna’s grin just widened. Ignoring Katniss, she said, “So New Zealand. Thrill capitol of the world. Ever been skydiving?”

Peeta sat up beside her, pushing unruly curls back from his forehead. “A couple times, yeah.”

“Bungee jumping?”

“Once,” he replied. “It sort of loses the novelty once you’ve jumped out of a plane.”

Katniss was shaking her head, both at the apparent cheeriness of her morning-person boyfriend and the thought of jumping out of a perfectly good plane.

“What time is it?” she asked before Johanna could continue with her inane questions.

“After seven,” Peeta offered, slinging an arm around her dropping shoulders so he could pull her in against his side and kiss the top of her head before pushing himself to his feet. With a smiling, “Excuse me, ladies,” he stepped around Johanna and disappeared into the bathroom.

Katniss watched him go, but when she turned back to Johanna the other girl was craning her head around to watch the now-closed bathroom door.

“Stop,” Katniss said firmly. 

“I’m not even looking at you,” Johanna said. “And can you blame me? Look at you. Look at him! I thought for sure he was going to be ugly, or weird, but he’s actually pretty hot. His arms are almost as big around as my thighs.” 

Katniss flopped back over, intent on hiding in the blankets, but Johanna climbed onto the couch before she could burrito herself in the blankets, and continued to make inappropriate comments until Katniss pushed her bodily back onto the floor. She practically skipped from the room, still cackling, when Peeta reappeared mere moments later. “Up, up, up!” she called down the stairs in a surprisingly accurate impersonation of Aunt Effie. “It’s a big, big, big day!”

 “I don’t see what you’re always complaining about,” Peeta said as he pulled her up off the couch and into his arms. “She’s not half bad.”

Craning her head back to see his face, Katniss took in his beatific smile and said, “You heard her call you hot.”

“She only said ‘pretty hot’,” he reminded her, tightening his arms around her until her heels came off the floor. She took the hint, closing the last few inches of distance between them to kiss his smiling mouth while he pulled her completely off her feet. Laughing, he spun them around and began walking backwards toward the couch, but before he could sit down there were footsteps on the stairs.

Panicked, Katniss tore her mouth from his and pushed on his shoulders. “Put me down,” she whispered urgently, feet scrabbling for purchase on his shins, but it was too late.

“Katniss!” Effie exclaimed, somehow managing to shriek despite the fact that she was almost whispering. “What are you doing? Who is this?” Then, before Katniss could answer, Effie was hustling back up the stairs, yelling, “Haymitch! There’s a boy in the basement!”

Peeta let go of her as the basement door slammed shut, and took a big step back. They stood in awkward silence as Katniss tried to come up with something to say, but Peeta beat her to it.

“You know,” he said gently, “I don’t care that you clearly didn’t tell anyone you were bringing me, but you could’ve let me in on that.”

“Peeta,” she tried, reaching for him, but he shrugged her off. 

“Give me a minute,” he said, kneeling to dig around in his duffel. 

Katniss swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. 

The basement door opened again. “Hands where I can see them,” Haymicth shouted before appearing on the stairs. He gave the two of them a long look before saying, “Your aunt wants me to talk to you, so when you get dressed and come upstairs just… act like I yelled at you, or something.”

“I see you come by the avoidance naturally,” Peeta said to her, and Haymicth let out a barking laugh. 

Face burning, Katniss asked, “Don’t you have something better to do right now?”

Haymitch shook his head. “Better than embarrassing you in front of your new boyfriend? Not a chance. Hope you’re ready for the third degree.” Addressing Peeta, he said, “She’s never brought a boy home.”

“What, ever?”

“Gale was over here all the time,” she protested. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t like him,” Haymitch said. “You thought you did, for some reason I still haven’t figured out, but you didn’t.”

Peeta laughed, teasing, “Do you like me, love?”

“Don’t blame you for not being able to tell,” Haymitch said. “Girl’s pricklier than a cactus.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Katniss shot back. 

Haymitch held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Why don’t you two get dressed and come have some breakfast. I’ll, uh, give you some privacy.”

When he’d gone, Peeta reached for her hand and pulled her toward him. Still kneeling, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and rested his chin against her belly, looking up at her through long, golden eyelashes. “Do you like me, love?”

Just like that, the feeling she’d been pushing away roared to the forefront of her mind. Suddenly shy, Katniss plunged her hands into his hair and bent to press her cheek to the top of his head, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” she breathed, feeling like she was confessing something much bigger. “I like you. So much.”

****

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. After they dressed they had breakfast in the living room, eating english muffins, eggs, and sausages off paper plates while sitting cross-legged on the floor around the coffee table. Effie was practically vibrating, peppering Katniss and Peeta with questions as she moved in and out of the room. Prim finally came downstairs, shrieking in delight when she realized who was sitting beside Katniss on the floor, and just as predicted she got along with Peeta like a house on fire. It made Katniss feel warm inside, to see the two people she most adored talking like old friends even though they’d just met. 

Haymitch and Johanna left for the airport, and returned an hour later with Finnick, Annie, and their 2-yr old son who was named for his father. Prim immediately commandeered the baby, while Finn and Peeta bonded over surfing, and Peeta promised to take them all to Tauranga if they ever made it to the North Island. They put the parade on the big screen TV hanging over the crackling fireplace, and Peeta put his arm around her. Despite the raucous conversation and an audience composed of almost every one she cared about, Katniss was content to tuck her feet up under her and snuggle into his side. 

“Do you need any help?” Peeta asked Effie, causing Haymitch to shake silently with laughter.

“Aren’t you darling!” Effie exclaimed. “No, you just sit right here until Santa shows up.”

“She’s not cooking,” Katniss supplied after Effie had left the room.

“I thought eating was the point of this holiday.”

“Oh, we’re gonna eat,” Haymitch said, “but Effie’s not cooking. No one wants that.”

“We made everything yesterday,” Prim said, bouncing the cooing baby in her lap. “Effie and Lavinia are just heating it all up.”

Even so, after the parade ended Peeta left Katniss with her family and went to the kitchen, where he was promptly put to work making pastry lattice for the three pies - the only things being made fresh that day. 

With Peeta otherwise occupied the teasing began, and continued for nearly twenty minutes until Haymitch said, “All right, let her alone. If we keep it up too long she might disappear on us.” 

“He seems really nice,” Annie offered sincerely. 

“He is,” Katniss agreed, unable to keep a smile off her face. 

They kept the TV on, enjoying the dog show and the warmth of each other’s company. Baby Finn was particularly enamored with the animals, which launched a discussion about pets, past and present, wherein Prim reminisced fondly about the absolute monster of a cat she’d lost just the previous year, and no one, not even his wife, could talk Finnick out of the idea of providing a puppy for his son to grow up with. 

“You’re leaving for college next year,” Haymitch told Prim. “You’re not getting a damn cat!”

After the dog show they put cartoons on for the baby, and Katniss went to rescue Peeta from her aunt only to find him happily engaged in a conversation about his family’s bakery in Hamilton. He loved the bakery, Katniss knew, even if there was so much bad blood between him and his mother that he’d left the country over it. Effie was in her element, directing Peeta and Lavinia around the kitchen as she finished the place settings in the dining room. When Katniss poked her head through the door to take in the year’s decorations, somewhere tastefully between Thanksgiving and Christmas, she was roped into moving the  serving dishes around the table until her aunt was satisfied everyone would be able to reach everything. 

“I think we’re almost ready,” Peeta said, bending over in front of the oven to survey the baking pies. 

Effie checked her watch, declaring that they were right on time - it was a few minutes before 2pm - before sending Katniss into the living room to corral everyone. 

When they were all standing around the table, waiting to take their seats, Effie elbowed Haymitch until he cleared his throat and said, “All right, well… Here’s to the family we choose. Let’s eat ‘til we puke.”

“Haymitch!” Effie exclaimed in dismay, but she was drowned out by laughter and the scraping of chairs as everyone took a seat. 

The meal was incredible. Katniss took Haymitch’s advice, having seconds of everything until she felt sick, and somehow still managed to find room for pie. Peeta’s hand rested on her thigh under the table, and every time she looked at him she could feel an unmatched fondness bubbling up in her. He took the teasing in stride, laughing as her aunt, uncle, and sister told embarrassing stories about her, and even offered a few embarrassing stories about himself, and Katniss had to hold herself back from kissing him. Her heart was as full as her stomach.

By the time everyone was done eating she was sleepy and content, and when everyone drifted away to find their own quiet corner in the house, Katniss took Peeta’s hand and led him up the stairs. Her old bedroom was just as she’d left it when she’d moved to Boston for school, and she pushed Peeta toward the bed before shimmying out her jeans and joining him.

“So that’s American Thanksgiving,” he said, his hand drifting up and down her arm. 

Katniss laughed. “It’s not over yet.”

“We watched the parade, we had turkey and stuffing and pie, now we’re having a nap,” he ticked off on his fingers. “What’s left?”

“We’ll probably go to the movies later,” she said, “then Effie and Johanna and Prim will get up at 3am to go shopping.”

“Black Friday is real?” he asked with a laugh.

Katniss groaned. “Unfortunately. You might get roped into going. They always need a pack mule, and Haymitch bitches so much my aunt doesn’t make him go anymore.”

“They’re an odd pair,” Peeta said. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “They are.They fought all the time when I was little - they still fight all the time. She drives him crazy, and she used to get so mad at him she’d go into the basement and scream. I didn’t really get why they were together. 

“Didn’t like past tense?” Peeta asked, squeezing her tighter. 

“You don’t drive me crazy,” Katniss said, immediately understanding what he was driving at. 

“Might be doing something wrong then,” he said, pushing up on his elbow until he was leaning over her. 

Taking his face in her hands, she stroked his cheek, her thumb catching in the dimple beside his smile. “Did you enjoy your first Thanksgiving?” she asked quietly. 

“Love, I enjoy anything I get to do with you.”

She didn’t mean to say it, hadn’t wanted to say it, but the “I love you,” tumbled from her lips before her brain could catch up with her heart, and when she realized what she’d done she pulled Peeta down against her, burying her face in his neck so she wouldn’t have to look at him. 

He laughed, and she was mortified - she hadn’t said those words to anyone but Prim, since her dad died, and Peeta was laughing at her - but before she could fall down the spiral of despair Peeta said, “I knew it,” and kissed her. 

It was a sweet kiss, just the gentle pressure of his lips against hers, his free hand buried in her dark hair. 

“I knew it,” he said again when he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers. “You’re awful at hiding how you feel, you know.”

But he hadn’t said it back, so Katniss swallowed down the lump in her throat and asked, “Do you love me?”

“Are you blind?” he shot back. “Of course I love you. I’m crazy about you.”

Before he could kiss her again, the door to her bedroom flew open and Prim bounded in, heedless of the moment she’d just interrupted. 

“Movie’s at 5:40,” she said, “and the mall opens at 10pm this year, so we’re just gonna head over after.”

“That sounds awful,” Katniss groaned, hiding her face in Peeta’s neck again. 

“Can’t wait,” Peeta replied. “Better get some rest then eh?”

“Yep, rest,” Prim agreed. “I”ll just lock the door on my way out, shall I? Happy Thanksgiving, guys.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Katniss echoed, and for the first time in her life, she meant it. 

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. five : two and a possible

four

I finished up my ‘morning’ routine and walked back over to sit next to him, finally ready to eat something. “I'm hungry. What we having?”

“Oh shit!” 

“What?”

“I forgot to get food.”

I tilted my head, my features overtaken by displeasure. “You’ve been eating hella takeout, huh? You know that’s not good.” We’d had this conversation a couple times before. He was generally a healthy guy, but his diet could be so trash at times. 

“I mean, I was. But I’ve been at my mom’s house eating Thanksgiving leftovers the past few days.”

I snorted. “You are such a man,” I playfully huffed, shaking my head.

“I’ma do better,” he mumbled listlessly with a laugh. “You can order something, though. I’ll pick some stuff up tomorrow after my last meeting.”

“Ok. We can just get pizza. That cool?”

“Yeah. ”

“You got dessert at least?”

He stared at the wall in deep thought, his mouth doubtfully agape. “ …I think I have ice cream?”

“Ok.” I left my seat with the kitchen in mind solely because of the obvious lack of confidence he had just displayed. “Come look with me.”  

“What?” The presence of a frown was more than apparent on his face.   

“Come with me,” I insisted, unfazed. 

“For what? You aren’t a guest anymore.”

“I am, too.” Now I was frowning. 

“No, you're not. You know where the kitchen is, the pantry, the fridge; you know where everything is,” he listed candidly, but stood to his feet anyway.  

“So. You don't have to be rude.” I rolled my eyes, turning to walk out with him in tow. I’d had to hide the smile trying to creep onto my face. I loved messing with him. 

He smacked his lips, clearly agitated, and I couldn't hold my laughs. “I’m coming, woman.”

We stepped into his kitchen and I pulled the freezer drawer open, searching for the ice cream I had sort of been promised? Curious, I paused to look in the refrigerator. Other than a few bottles of water, a carton of eggs, a couple carryout plates and various condiments, there wasn’t much inside. “Damn, you weren't lying. Ain’t shit in here.”

“I told you.”

I laughed as I closed the doors and went back to the freezer. I moved a bag of broccoli to the side, then a bag of pineapple chunks. “Found it,” I gleefully announced, lifting the pint of vanilla Haagen Dazs. I removed the top and the seal was still there. Perfect. I turned to show him just as he was coming out of the pantry.

“Here’s some stuff my sister had.” He held up a box of fudge brownie mix in one hand and an unopened bottle of vegetable oil in the other. 

“Oh, hell yeah,” I approved with a satisfied nod, before putting the ice cream away. That was right up my alley.

He chuckled, shaking his head, as he sat them both on the counter. I walked over and slid them closer to me. “I swear you a junkie.”

“Glucose gang ‘til I die, cuz.”

“You bangin’ sugar?” I looked up at him and we fell out almost immediately. I leaned over onto the marble in front of me, cracking all the way up while he stood beside me doing the same. “You got a problem.”

“Nah, that’s why I’m so sweet.” I winked and stuck my tongue out before laughing a little harder. He just grinned at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Now, go order the pizza,” I snappily instructed, waving him off and pulling out one of the chairs at the island.

“That wasn't sweet at all.”

I took a seat and pompously crossed my legs, clutching my knee with laced hands and being sure to keep my eyes away from him, even as I spoke. “This is just payback for making me spend the day by myself tomorrow.” 

He smacked his lips. “Girl, hush.” He was so serious I couldn't help but laugh, but also don’t be telling me to hush. He went to leave and I reached out to push him. The joke was on me, though, because he had gotten too far. All I had done was push air and almost fallen out of my chair. “Look at you. So sweet I don’t know what I’ma do with you.” 

I snorted. “Shut up.”

“You feel like baking for real, though? I need one of them fire ass strawberry cheesecakes.”

“I got you, babe. You know I always feel like baking.”

“Bet. Text me a list so I can get the stuff tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

He came back with his laptop and credit card, settling in the seat next to mine. Normally this part would take a while, because one of us—me—would have a time trying to figure out what they wanted. But that wasn’t the case today. I was starving and my pizza order didn't usually get too complicated anyway. I quickly decided on pepperoni and green peppers, and he went with chicken and spinach. I couldn't wait to eat some of mine and his. 

“So… how has it been? How are you?”

I shrugged my shoulder, taking my focus to my hands down on the counter. I really didn't want to talk about this. Honestly, it was the furthest thing from my mind. But I knew he was probably worried. “…Ok, I guess. I’ve been good.”

“Have things gotten any better? Be honest.” 

I looked up, seeing the care and concern that I always saw in his eyes. And that shit made it extremely hard for me to lie to him. I wasn’t a good liar either. So, I shook my head. It had actually gotten much worse since the last time he and I saw each other. But, that part, I had to keep to myself. “Not really. Just the same ol’, same ol’.” 

His gaze never left me, but he didn’t speak another word. Probably just didn’t have anything to say. I could definitely understand.

At this point my only concern was her wellbeing. I couldn't give anymore advice, because I had long tapped out. It had all been falling on deaf ears anyway. We’d known each other for about a year and a half now, and nothing had changed. I didn't mean to judge her, but she seemed content just where she was. Content with disarray. In my eyes, her reasons for staying were bullshit. Because love damn sure wasn't keeping her. Love wouldn't be doing half the shit she was enduring. It certainly wouldn't have her going into another man’s home just to get away. 

Nah.

Love is what had me making accommodations every sixty days for a woman who wasn't mine. It’s what had me turning down the advances of other women when I didn't have to. It’s the five hundred dollar mixer and numerous other baking supplies in my kitchen that I don't even use. It’s what kept me up at night asking myself what the fuck I was doing, and actually attempting to justify it. Love is me throwing everything reasonable, and everything sensible, and everything rational, and everything logical out the window when I knew better.

I felt like it was time for me to make a choice. For my own good if nothing else. Without question, things just weren't gonna work themselves out. I needed to start using my better judgment. It was on me, because she wasn't moving. I needed to take myself out of the picture. I knew this, but it was hard as hell to even think about. A sign from God is what I really needed. Soon. Because I felt that my next move was about to be a mistake no matter what. I hated to admit it, but I was getting tired of going to pick her up every time that ungrateful ass nigga left, having so much fun with her, and then taking her back to him. I wanted her. So fucking bad. And I knew the feeling was mutual. But being on the sidelines of her life was slowly breaking me. I had to accept that whatever I was to her now was likely all I would ever be. Equally, I couldn't stand seeing her allow someone to treat her so poorly when she was worth so much more. I just wish that I had been able to make her understand that. I wish all of it could've gone differently. 

“So, what you been up to?” she quietly asked, breaking the silence.

“Not much. Just working, the occasional event, linking with my boys. You know, the usual.”

“Any new possibles?” She couldn't even get it out before her lips started to form a grin. This was what she had really meant by her previous question. She always found a way to work it into the conversation. And each time was less cunning than the last, even though she was for sure trying to be slick. 

“Oh, of course.”

“Ewww,” she drawled, simultaneously smiling and scrunching her face in disgust. I chuckled. 

“What?”

“‘Oh, of course’!”

I dropped my head, laughing at her exaggerated imitation of me. I did not sound like that. “I'm just saying. Women love the king.”

“Oooh. You weren't this cocky the last time I saw you,” I teased lightheartedly, clutching my imaginary pearls. He was so tickled.

“I’m joking.”

“Nah, you're serious.”

“I know what I bring to the table, but I'm not over feeling myself.”

“I hear you, homie.”

He cut his eyes at me as I kept up my production of faux amazement. “You get on my nerves so bad, Jay.”

I grabbed his shoulder and leaned over on him, laughing too hard. Yeah, I was picking, but I couldn’t be mad. He was telling the truth. Women did indeed love his ass. Whenever we were out, I would catch them staring constantly. A couple of them had even had the gumption to approach him. But seeing him interact with the women who actually knew him, the women in his family, I could just feel it. They really loved him. His mom, his best friend’s mom, his little sister and a cousin were the ones I’d had the opportunity to witness him in conversation with. The adoration was practically radiating from the screen during their Facetime calls. He even had an aunt who would send him care packages from time to time. I understood fully. I absolutely adored him myself. He just had this light about himself and it was fiercely captivating. Even if I’d wanted to let go, I don't believe I could. His place in my heart had been solidified. I couldn't imagine my life without Omari. I didn't even like to think of the possibility. 

“So, these possibles,” I continued, a smile still lingering. “Is there looove in the air?” 

“Nah.” He reclined in his seat and propped his elbow on the back. In a matter of seconds, all enthusiasm had left his body. “I’m not really on that right now.”

I frowned. He wasn't usually so dry with me. “Did something happen?” 

“Nah, not really.”

“So, what’s up? You don't have your eye on anybody?” I found that very hard to believe. 

“I mean…” The sly smirk that made its way onto his face caused me to drop my concern like a hot potato. I knew he was holding out. 

“Mhmm. Spill, bruh.”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, laughing a little as he leaned toward the island again. “I didn't say that, I just been chillin’.”

“Nah, something’s going on. We tell each other everything, now cat got your tongue.” 

“It’s not even like that. To be completely honest with you, it just feels like nobody is genuine anymore. Now, these women either just out here on the come up or they're only interested for superficial reasons. They don’t really like you. I can’t mess with none of that.”

“Well, I can definitely understand not being able to trust.”

“You know? It’s hard. And I do want that special something with someone, someone I can do life with, but I don't know. Risking your heart like that is just…” 

“Yeah. I get it.”

“So, yeah. That’s all it is.”

“Maybe you can start looking in some different places than usual. Where you be?”

“I'm not looking for anything currently.”

“Why do you sound so sad when you say that, though?” 

He glanced over at me and laughed, but I didn't return his supposed joy. I can’t lie, it was a bit troubling. We had spoken on this kind of stuff before, but he had never seemed so affected by it. “I’m not sad. I’m good, I promise.”

“Ok, so what qualities would your ideal lady have?” I switched to a lighter, more giddy tone, in hopes of making his mood follow. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanna know. Maybe I can help you out a lil bit.”

[foxydivaxx]

The Mystery of The Black Rose Chapter 1

After this, I don't think I can write any stories or anything anymore. I should just quit.

The Davis family at a glance seem to have it all. A seemingly perfect, well rounded and God-fearing family. The late Chief Gboyega Davis passed away about 18 years ago and many expected the matriarch of the family to falter over her husband's death. Yet this woman somehow managed to bounce back via her clothing line Violet Life which is reportedly worth a billion dollars.

Naturally with such success, there would be a lot of pressure on each of her three children to succeed in whatever chosen field that they set their sights on. So far, the oldest two children are doing well in their careers. Temitope, the oldest child and the only son of the family, is now a successful and highly respected doctor. Bisola who is currently married is an accountant for Savannah Bank.

All that remained at the moment is the youngest child Wuraola who is still in University studying Journalism in the hopes that she makes it as journalist someday. The girl comes across as a shy yet sweet and friendly person to be around. However, there lies a great pain in her heart. Said pain emerged one fateful day during a phone conversation with her sister Bisola.

"Wura, you are overreacting again. Mother isn't like that."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!! I AM NOT CRAZY!! MUMMY HAS THAT TENDENCY TO NOT ONLY INSULT THE HOUSEGIRL AND TELL HER TO HER FACE THAT SHE IS ONLY A HOUSEGIRL BECAUSE SHE LACKS INTELLIGENCE!! THIS SAME OLD HAG ALSO INSULTED ME FOR TRIPPING OVER THE STUPID CARPET AS I HELPED HER BRING SOME COOKIES!! THIS WOMAN HAS BEEN BULLYING ME AND THE STAFF FOR YEARS FOR FUCK'S SAKE!! YOU WERE THERE WHE THAT WOMAN CUT MY HAIR OFF FOR NOT DOING THE HAIRSTYLE SHE WANTED ME TO DO AND YOU BLOODY DID NOTHING!! YOU AND TOPE!!"

Thank goodness their mother had gone out otherwise had the woman listened in on Wura's rant, the child's situation could have gotten worse.

"Seriously Wura calm down. Also, yelling like that will not help matters. Plus mum had every right to yell at both you and Yemisi since both of you do not know what you are doing half the time!!"

Wura just sighs. Why did she even bother herself with reporting her mother to her sister who is obviously so blind and refuses to look at anyone's point of view? It is almost as though Bisola cares more about herself than anyone else and it shows.

"So you mean to tell me that I should take whatever beatings and insults that woman throws at me?" Wura asks in a cold tone.

"Wura she is your mother...."

The last born immediately hangs up on her sister and lies down on her bed. For the past couple years, she had been questioning her role in the family. As far as she is concerned, they are all chess pieces in whatever evil game their mother intends to play.

I can't believe people find that woman's behavior to be cute. That is not cute. That is pure borderline abuse. How come no one has seen through her bullshit yet?

That was about five years ago.

Five years later, the entire family had gathered at the main Davis family home to have a family dinner to celebrate the 18th anniversary of Chief Davis' passing. As per tradition, the family and their friends and various well known celebrities that they happen to know would show up at the Church for a special Thanksgiving service. The family then heads to the family home to eat together and send some time before heading off to their various homes.

"Wait, where is Wura?" The kids' aunt, Aunty Yewande asked. The rest of the family exchanged looks.

Temitope snorts. "Hmmph that girl. She is probably watching that her favorite Korean show." he says with a mocking tone and shrugs. If there was one thing the family often mocks Wura for, it is her obsession with Korean dramas and Kpop which they often found childish.

"Or she could be sleeping. At times, Wura gets tired after church services and just doses off. She did not head downstairs for lunch." Says Violeta their mother.

"I will go fetch her." Says Bisola as she raises up from her seat. She takes slow yet tentative steps as she walks up the steep stairs.

"Wura come downstairs!! Dinner is ready!!" she calls out to her sister.

No response.

No do not panic. The girl is fine. She is fine. Nothing bad had happened to her. She is perfectly fine. Bisola kept on reassuring herself as she keeps on walking until she arrives at her youngest sister's room.

Of all the Davis children, Wura has the largest room with cute pink colored walls and white furniture at the girl's request. At the corner of the room lay a collection of CDS and books messily stacked up on the shelves above Wura's study desk. It seemed that the girl hadn't cleaned up at all. Bisola sighs. Their mother is strict on cleanliness and Wura always bore the brunt of abuse for being disorganized and having poor hygiene. This naturally affected Wura at school because how can someone so disorganized and scatterbrained like her even do well at all?

Bisola pauses as she hears notices a sea of water coming out of underneath the door of Wura's bathroom.

"Jesus wept." Could Wura have left the tap open to overflow like that?

Is she in there?

She slowly walks over towards the door and opens it. The sight that greets her forces her to scream her lungs out. Right inside the bathtub was none other than a naked Wura who seemed to be completely knocked out. There were heavy cuts and bruises all over her body and beside her were tubes of prescription pills. The rest of the family get alerted by the scream and rush upstairs to see what the fuss was about.

"Bisola wh-" Temitope freezes once he sees it. His wife Amelia gasps. When Violeta joins them, she immediately passes out with Yetunde holding on to her. "Mama Tope!! Please wake up!!"

Tope immediately springs into action and gets into the bathtub and picks up his little sister's unconscious body whilst Bisola's husband Timothy pulls out his mobile phone and immediately calls the nearest hospital.

"Hello!! Y-Yes!! We have an emergency here!! Our youngest family member drowned in the bathtub!! Please send paramedics down here!!"

Meanwhile, Tope performs emergency CPR on his sister, hoping and praying that the girl wakes up. Unfortunately for him, it seemed all his efforts were in vain. He then checks her pulse and his heart sinks.

"S-She is gone guys."

"No.." Bisola muttered in total disbelief. Tope simply sighs, trying not to appear emotional as he stares down at her body, his hands shaking in rage.

"Breaking news!! The youngest daughter of the Davis family, Wuraola was found dead in the bathtub of her bedroom at around 7.30pm today. Official cause of death is still unknown." says a news reporter who had just arrived at the scene.

Paremedics soon arrive and place Wura's body onto a stretcher and head outside. "NO!! Give me back my baby!!" Violeta screams as she chases after the paramedics. "Mummy calm down." Says Bisola.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN CALM DOWN?!! MY DAUGHTER IS GONE!! MY BELOVED WURA IS GONE!!"

The woman slumps onto the floor and begins to weep bitterly. Tope has tears in his eyes as his brother-in law comforts him. Amelia on the other hand, just stares up at the ceiling above them, not a single tear in sight. Thank goodness the only grandson of the family was with her parents. Lord knows how they would explain about what had just happened to his favorite aunt.

The Chief Inspector of Police arrives flanked by a group of police officers.

"Ah, good evening Mr Kasali." Says Bisola.

He simply replies her with a curt nod. "Please lead us to the crime scene."

Tope wipes his tears and takes it upon himself to lead them up to the room. "This was where we found her." he says, pointing at the bathtub which was still filled with water. There were still some blood stains on the tub.

The Inspector nods to one of his men who pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the crime scene. Another set of police officers begin to investigate the area.

"Did anyone else come into the room with her?"

"No sir. It was just her. We hadn't seen her since afternoon. I remember her saying something about wanting to take a nap because she was tired and did not even join us for lunch."

He was not saying the complete truth, that he already knows. Nevertheless, Kasali chose not to press him even further.

"Did she have a fight with anyone?"

Tope begins to think. "She did have an argument with mummy but that was over where she wanted to go for her Masters."

Pure utter lies. It hurts that he has to cover up their family's tracks here.

Kasali nods as he notes all this down. "Alright. We shall leave no stone unturned in this case. You have my word on that."

"Inspector!!"

He turns around and walks over to a police officer who holds up a blood-stained razor blade and knife.

Tope's eyes widened in shock. "Holy shit!!"

His mind then flashes back to one particular day where he had just returned home after his graduation. He remembers seeing Wura holding a knife and him immediately confiscating it from her.

Wura please don't tell me you still harmed yourself.

"Very well. Pack that up. We will have to talk to others that know her in order to understand what led her death." With that, he and the other police officers leave.

Once everyone else was gone, Tope immediately walks over to his mother and grabs her by the hand.

"What the hell did you tell Wura that led to her death mother?! Tell me huh!! What did you do to her?!!"

"Ah hah!! Tope leave our mother!! Can't you see she is still upset?!"

"Shut up Bisola!! You do not help matters at all with your nonchalant attitude!!"

Bisola immediately keeps silent. He then stares at their mother who was cowering in fear. "I will not repeat myself again mum. What did you tell Wura?"

The woman gulps, fear gripping her as she meets her son's angered glance.

"W-Well.....you know that Wura is a messy person who is also a scatterbrain. She always forgets things. Today she forgot to give a special package I had wrapped for Mama Kanyin."

The boy's death glare intensifies. "So because of a stupid package, you sent her to her death."

The woman looks away.

"See? That proves my point. You and Bisola should be proud of yourselves because you have murdered my little sister!!" With that, he walks away, leaving a stunned mother and sister behind.

The boy stomps all the way down and sighs to himself as he walks towards his car and slams the door shut. Amelia had already left the vicinity to go pick up things from the supermarket. He could have done better and saved Wura from that place. From all those horrible people. But he himself was way too consumed with his own darkness, his own madness to even save his little sister.

He would not necessarily call himself the closet sibling to Wura but he still tried his best to be a big brother.

He just sits down in the driver's seat, his mind a total mess as different conflicting voices start to fight for control over him. Almost as though he were possessed. Maybe he was.

He then hears his phone buzzing which distracts him for a brief second. Reaching for his iPhone, he sees a notification about a message from an unknown number. Suspecting that it could be one of his crazy girlfriends, he checks the phone and is met by the following message:

Shine your eyes Mister man,

Your problems are not yet over,

No matter how saintly you try to be now,

Your sins are about to come crashing down on you.

Tope simply laughs it off. "Sins. What sins?" Truth be told, he is aware of what this mysterious person was talking about. However, he thinks little of such.

"Must be one of Danielle's tricks to try and get into my pants again. Stupid bitch does not know when to quit." He mutters as he starts the engine and begins to drive off to his home.

Bisola sighs as she sits down in her old bedroom. Unlike Wura's, hers was a lot more subtle with plain neutral colors. Her mother was fast asleep haven given her some medication to calm her nerves down and try to force her to sleep. So far her plan worked.

Her husband has gone off to go check on their son whilst she stays with her mother to keep watch over her. Before she could do anything else, her phone vibrates next to her on the bedside table. Fearing for the worst, she picks up the phone and checks her messages and gasps upon reading a rather vague yet scathing text.

You try to see the good in others,

Yet you refuse to acknowledge your inner darkness,

Your careless tongue and bitchy attitude caused the death of someone,

Someone that ought to be close to you,

Your other brother has problems no doubt,

But at least deep down he has a heart unlike you and that wretched witch

You call a mother,

"Who sent this?" Bisola asks. No. Wura is dead. There is no way she could have sent this even though the tone used her sounds exactly like her. Must be some friend of hers.

"Friend? Wura and friends? Pfft. Yeah right." As far as she and the rest of the family knew, Wura had little to no friends. Or so she thinks.

Meanwhile, Tope arrives at his house on Banana Island. Compared to Alakada, Banana is more of a surburban area filled to the brim with extremely wealthy individuals, mostly politicians and famous musical and movie superstars and a couple wealthy billionaires.

He packs the car and walks off to his penthouse suite that he recently bought with the new paycheck given to him by his boss Dr Roberts. Perks of being a in-demand doctor.

Once he reaches his suite, he heads straight to the living room and throws his blazer onto the couch and takes a seat on one of the chairs.

"You are back."

He looks up to see his beautiful wife who was wearing a purple silk dressing gown over her night gown. He nods. "This day has been a horrible day for me." He mutters. His wife takes a seat beside him.

"Poor Wura."

He simply nods and remains silent. Lord knows how they would fix this mess.

[13dead-ends]

Chapter 8 Getting Somewhere

Chapter 8 of Blood Bound

Henry Cavill x Named OC

Summary: Things get heated after Halloween only to get cut short by Thanksgiving plans.

Word Count: 5597

Warnings: just some kissing, hands almost up dresses, more slow burn

A/N: So sorry this took literally forever! It’s out now though and I hope you like it! As usual, thanks to @hellcaster901​ for reading my work all the time and dealing with my annoying ass. Happy Reading :) 

I fumbled with my keys, standing in front of the door. Henry stood behind me, hands tickling my waist. I giggled, not finding the stupid key. “Are you ticklish?” Henry’s breath was on my neck and he pecked it. I giggled again, picking out the right key.

“Yes,” He placed another kiss down my neck. “I am, stop.” He chuckled. I didn’t really want him to. I tried jamming the key into the lock, but it was the wrong way. Henry’s hand was moving my jacket collar so he could kiss more skin. “Henry,” I finally got the key in and I turned it. I opened the door stumbling through it, both of us laughing. I dropped my keys on the counter and took off my jacket. Henry was shutting the door and locking it, then he turned to me. He pressed me against the counter and his hands tingled on my waist. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. He kissed my lips and my knees felt weak. I held his face and kissed him harder. He ran his hands up my waist over my dress, then back down. One grabbed my knee, hooking it over him. I gasped and he snuck his tongue in my mouth. I moaned, arching my back to press closer to him. He suddenly let go of my knee and pushed me up by my waist, sitting me on my counter. He started at the top of my cleavage with little kisses, trailing up to my collar bone and then to my neck. I couldn’t catch my breath before he was kissing my mouth again. I gripped his shirt pulling him closer. Suddenly his hands gathered my skirt a little, then his hands touched my bare thighs. I shuddered and they trailed their way up and up. I couldn’t breathe.

“Henry.” I pushed his shoulders back. He pulled away, his lips a little redder.

“What’s wrong?” He brushed my messed-up hair back. I shook my head.

“Nothing, just um,” He stepped back a little, but he leaned his hands on the counter on either side of my legs.

“Is this about the other day in the trailer? I wasn’t cross with you or anything. I was just really distracted the day before and kept forgetting lines.” I sighed.

“No! It’s not that. I was just, I felt awkward.” He tilted his head at me. “I wasn’t sure what all this meant for you and us.” I looked down, my knees peeking out of my dress.

“What? Kissing?”

“And dinner the other night. It really felt like a date, but you never said so.” He sighed and then chuckled. He kissed my cheek and forced me to look at him.

“As long as you’re okay with it, it was a date.” He smiled at me.

“I’m okay with it.”

“Communication really is important to you.” I nodded.

“Yes, please just be as blunt as possible.” He rested his hands on my hips over my dress and began leaning in again. I shut my eyes waiting for him to kiss me again, but then my phone rang.

“I’m being blunt when I say I don’t want you to answer it.” Henry whispered and I groaned.

“It could be Abbey. I had told her to call me if she needed something.” Henry rested his forehead against me. “Can you grab my jacket?” He huffed but got my jacket and even fished my phone out for me. It was Abbey, so I answered it. “Abbey? What’s up?”

“I can’t find James.” I rubbed my temple as Henry stepped back from me, grunting a little.

“Oh, Abbey,” I began talking her through where she was and where she last saw James, then Henry began undoing the straps of my shoes, pulling them off. My feet felt relief just from that, but he gave them a little squeeze before pulling my skirt back down. I briefly thought of Abbey saying I’d be getting railed tonight and then shook my head.

“Wait, I think I see him.” I smiled.

“Put him on the phone before you hang up!” I told her. I heard shuffling and then James voice came on.

“You little sneak, left without saying anything.” I laughed. “I got us an uber, she’s spending the night with me.”

“Good, be safe, text me when you get home.”

“I will. And you’re good?”

“I got an uber with Henry. We’re home.” He whistled.

“Yes girl, I expect details tomorrow. In fact let’s do brunch-“

“Goodnight James.” I hung up and Henry helped me off the counter. “I don’t think I can be social tomorrow.” Henry took my hand as I walked to the bedroom.

“Me neither.” We stopped at the door.

“Hold on a sec,” I went over to my clean laundry basket and found the t-shirt and shorts he let me wear last time I spent the night. “I would like to formally return these.” I handed them to him and giggled. “I’ll change in here and you can use whatever in the bathroom. But that face wash is expensive, so not too much.” He laughed.

“Thanks, dear.” I smiled at him and went in my room and shut the door. “Shit.” I opened it again.

“Henry, wait.” He was halfway through the bathroom door. “Can you unzip me?”

“Sure,” I turned around and moved my hair. He grabbed the zipper and pulled. I held the front up to make sure I stayed covered. He gently kissed the back of my neck as the sleeves went slack around my shoulder. My skin was tingling under his lips and then he pulled away.

“Thank you.” I said and shut the door again. I got changed hanging up the dress. I was in sweats and a t shirt. I opened my door and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I heard the bathroom door open as I walked back. Henry stepped out and I slid in. “Give me a few minutes. Make yourself comfy.” I shut the door and did my thing. I went back out and saw Henry standing at my bookcase. The one he didn’t get to build. He looked at the titles on a shelf.

“Don’t judge me for high school Nina’s taste in books.” I stood next to him.

“I’m not, I’m interested in a few.” He chuckled, pulling out, a post-apocalyptic book. I had loved so much the paper cover was ripped. “This one I’m very interested in.” He flicked the ripped section of cover.

“One of my favorites as you can probably tell.” I thought about my phase of highlighting books and knowing for a fact that one had passages and quotes I liked marked up.

“Can I borrow it?” He started skimming the back summary.

“Sure.” I smiled at him. “If you like it I have more by that author.”

“Thanks, Nina.”

“You wanna lay down?” I grabbed his hand as he set the book on my vanity. We climbed into bed

“Yeah,” I pulled him over.

“There’s extra pillows and blankets in the hall closet, if you want more.” I pulled the one on the bed back. “But I’m not getting them for you.” I climbed in and he chuckled.

“This is fine, move over.” I moved to my side and he got in next to me. He pulled me to his chest, spooning me. I laced my fingers through his hand as it slid around my waist. “I’m going to have to wake up early to check on Kal.” I sighed.

“Okay, I won’t guarantee I’ll wake up.” He pressed his face in my hair.

“I’ll try and let you sleep in. I could bring us back breakfast.” I nodded, my eyes closing.

“And Kal.” He laughed and I felt it vibrate through his chest. “You don’t have anything planned tomorrow?”

“Nope.” I smiled. I started playing with his fingers laying over my stomach.

“Yay,” My eyes opened again. “Is the stake thing actually real?” He chuckled.

“Sort of. I don’t know where the stake thing came from but pretty much anything to the heart will kill a vampire.” I sighed.

“Other than that, you’re indestructible?”

“Mostly, but it seems like vampire slayers can do a number on some of us.” He squeezed me tighter, and I giggled.

“How do you become a vampire?” I whispered and there was a long silence. “You don’t- “

“You have to have vampire blood in your system, first.” His voice was quieter now too and I wanted to turn to face him, but I didn’t. “Then you have to bury yourself alive.” My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

“What?” I turned around and faced him. He looked at me, letting his hands run up and down my back.

“Well, not completely. The point is the improper burial. Your head can’t be covered.” He sighed.

“Oh, that’s weird.” I mumbled.

“A bit, yeah.” He pulled me so my face was in his neck and his rested his chin on my head. I wanted to ask him about how he changed again, but I could only think of his reaction last time I asked.

“Go to sleep now, it’s late.”

The next day I woke up to my phone ringing and Henry gone. He must be checking on Kal. I rolled over and grabbed my phone. I squinted at the bright screen and saw Irene’s face on my screen. I answered and pressed the phone to my ear. “Irene, it’s early and I’m hungover.” I rubbed my head, which was starting to hurt.

“Oh yeah! You’ll have to tell me about the Halloween party. You looked hot in your dress.” I smiled.

“Thanks.”

“But anyways. I wanted to call you and invite you to Thanksgiving with my family as usual.” I sat up, turning on my lamp.

“Shit, it’s November now.” I always went to Irene’s family for the holiday. “But yes, I’ll be there.” It’s going to be the first time I’ve gone home since I moved. I wondered how Henry would react. I jumped when my door opened, I heard shuffling and a scratching of paws on my floor. I smiled, he actually brought Kal.

“Good, I can’t wait to see you.” Irene said.

“I’m taking the whole week so we can spend more than just Thanksgiving together.” Irene laughed.

“I would expect nothing less.” My door got pushed open by the giant fur ball and he jumped up on my bed when I called him. I scratched his ears.

“Are you baking this year?” Irene didn’t bake professionally but was the best baker in the world.

“Of course. I can’t let my Aunt Stacy anywhere near an oven.” I laughed.

“I’ll get tickets today and text you when I do.”

“Yay! I can’t wait. What happened at the party last night?”

“I’ll have to tell you later, Henry’s here.” She gasped.

“You said it was early. Why he’s there so early?”

“I’ll tell you later, I promise. Bye, Irene.” I hung up and got up, Kal following me. I walked to my kitchen and saw Henry drinking coffee from a shop down the road. There was another cup and a bag of food on the island. “Good morning.” I smiled.

“Good morning. How’s Irene?” He was leaning on my kitchen counter.

“She’s good. How often do you listen in like that? How much have you heard?” He was mid sip, and he sputtered a little, a trickle of liquid ran down his chin. I furrowed my brow but giggled as he frantically wiped it away. “You okay?” He just nodded.

“I try not to listen in too much, but sometimes I can’t help it.” I sat at the island and pulled my hot cup to me. I smelled the spices of a chai tea latte and I smiled. “Like I couldn’t help but here something about tickets?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah. I’m going home for Thanksgiving this month.” I took a sip of the drink and watched his face, but nothing changed.

“Oh, that’s great. It’ll be good to go home for a while. Are you staying with Irene?” I nodded.

“Yeah, her family always lets me join their dinner. It’s really sweet of them.” He sat across from me as I pulled out a muffin from the bag.

“It is. Do you think you’ll see your family at all?” I focused on my muffin wrapper instead of Henry.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting a call on my birthday, so who knows?” He sighed.

“What am I going to do without you for a week?” I looked up smiling and he faked a dramatic sigh.

“You’ll survive.” I chuckled. “And I wouldn’t mind if you called me every now and then.”

           I walked up to the Positive building and opened the door. I needed to do some paperwork and I was hoping to see Abbey or James. I wanted to see what they thought about being my test interview for the website. Plus, I was trying to make something work so I could see Henry before I leave for Thanksgiving. His schedule was getting busier and busier and I was seeing him less and less. Which was just perfect timing after finally feeling comfortable with kissing him and being close to him. I rolled my eyes and before smiling at the receptionist as I went to the elevator. I pressed the floor with the offices and leaned against the wall. I pulled out my phone and saw that Henry hadn’t messaged me back. It wasn’t a surprise, and I couldn’t be mad at him, but it was frustrating. The last time I saw him he came over on his way to film. He needed blood, but it was quick, and I only got a small kiss on his way out.

           The elevator stopped and I made my way to my desk, peaking around Abbeys door and finding no one. I sighed, making it to my desk. I sat seeing the file with the paperwork I needed to do. I wasn’t really in the mood, but I needed to get it done before I left. I opened it and tried to focus. I had set my phone on the desk and I kept looking at it, hoping it would light up with a notification. Still nothing. I turned my face back to my papers and scribbled through it.

           “Hey!” I sat up when I heard Abbey’s voice. I turned around and she was peaking her head in. “The receptionist told me you just came up.” I nodded.

           “Yeah, I have some paperwork.” She stepped in and sat on my desk. “I actually wanted to ask you something.” Her eyebrows raised as she looked at her painted nails.

           “What’s up?”

           “I was wondering if you’d let me interview you. For an article on the website.” When I had told Abbey about the site, she immediately found my articles and read them. She told me she loved them and asked about it every now and then.

           “Of course! I’d love that! What’s it about?”

           “I’m not sure yet. I want to focus on being I want to focus on experiences as a donor, but I’m not sure where to go with it yet.” She nodded.

           “Well I wanted to ask if you wanted to do something before you leave to the states. We can kill two birds with one stone!” We planned a date for her to come over. We’d make a wine night out of it. I finished my paperwork after she left. While she was here, I was distracted from the lack of reply from Henry, but when she was gone, I grabbed my phone to check. Still nothing. I pursed my lips and put my phone in my bag, continued filling out the paper. I didn’t get a text until I had been back home for a while. I was in the middle of cooking dinner when my phone buzzed.

Can I call?

That was all it said, so I told him yes and tried not to stare at the phone until he did. As his contact came up on my screen, I hit the green button and hit speaker. I pushed meat around the pan I had warmed up as I spoke.

“Hey,”

“Hi Nina, how are you?” He sounded tired.

“Good, just making dinner. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m alright. Just busy.” He sighed. “When are you leaving for the states?” I looked at the calendar on my fridge.

“My flight’s on Sunday.” It was Wednesday today, only a few more days.

“Damn, that’s what I thought.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t think I’ll be able to see you before you go. Filming is getting packed in before deadlines.” I pursed my lips together to hold back pitiful sigh.

“Can I come there? I have time tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t even be there; I go straight to makeup.” I added my veggies to the pan and covered them with the lid. I picked up my phone and leaned on the counter, rubbing my forehead. “I’m sorry dear, I wanted to see you.”

“Come over right now?” I chuckled at myself. I hope I don’t sound desperate.

“I need to be up so early tomorrow, darling, and I’m just exhausted right now.” He sighed.

“It’s okay, but if you change your mind. I’ll be here.”

“So, are you all packed yet?” I looked over at the half empty suitcase on my living room floor.

“I started; I haven’t gotten far though.” I checked on my food as he replied.

“You must be excited?”

“Yes, I’m excited to see Irene and for her pie.” He laughed. “She’s seriously the best baker I’ve ever met.”

“I’d like to meet her eventually.” I couldn’t help but smile as I got a plate from the cabinet.

“Really? I’d like that.”

“What does her family do for the holiday?”

“Lots of cooking, her cousins come up so there’s always a ton of food. We just stay in our pajamas and cook and eat all day.”

“Sounds like a good day!”

“I think you’d have fun. As long as you don’t mind food comas.” He laughed out loud. I dumped the entire pan on my plate and went to sit at the island, grabbing a fork on the way.

“I definitely don’t mind those. What do you guys cook?”

“Well Irene’s dad makes the turkey, he’s smoking it this year, I think. That’s always good. I usually make a side, but I haven’t decided what I’m going to make yet….” I started rambling about the holiday and he chimed in at all the right times and asked questions.

“Wait you burned the entire turkey?” I imagined Henry’s surprised face looking at me as I explained the one year, I tried to fry a turkey and almost burned Irene’s house down.

“It was a disaster. I’m just glad that we had all that other food cooking.” I laughed. “It wasn’t technically my fault, if Irene’s dad hadn’t left-“I was putting my dishes away when I realized I could hear snores on the other end.  

“Henry?” I said into the speaker. No reply, just deep breathing. I laughed softly. I put him to sleep with my thanksgiving stories. “Goodnight.” I told him before hanging up.

 I blinked at the two wine bottles Abbey put on my kitchen counter. “You know I have a flight to catch tomorrow right?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, and? Sleep on the plane.” I shook my head and grabbed wine glasses. “You’ll be fine. I’ll drive you to the airport and make sure you get there on time.” She opened the first bottle and poured glasses.

“Thank you.”

“So, what’s this interview about?” I took our glasses to the living room and she followed me.

“I’m going ask you about being a donor and your experiences.” She plopped on the couch and sat crisscross. I set the glasses down and sat, facing her. “Just be as candid as possible.” She took a drink of her wine.

“Okay! You’ll have to let me know when it’s posted. And tag my social media.” I chuckled getting the recorder on my phone set up.

“Of course,” I got my notebook and flipped to my questions. “Ready?” I took a drink of my own glass before hitting record. “So how about we start easy, how did you start donating?”

“Well my sister told me about it when I didn’t finish college and still had loans to pay off. This was a great way to make that money.” I nodded. “Turns out I’m a really good people person, I did really well and decided to keep doing it.”

“Did you have any troubles at first? With family or the process?”

“Well, my parents think it’s weird and we just don’t talk about it much. My sister doesn’t care at all.” She sighed. “As for the process, it took me some time to get used to, I got cocky and went overboard when I first started.”

“That’s probably why you’re so good at taking on more than one client now though.” She shrugged.

“It’s easy, but not when I first started. Have you ever had more than one?” I shook my head.

“No, I did think about it when I was first interviewed at Positive, but I really don’t think I could do it.” She smirked at me.

“You changed your mind because of your current client, didn’t you?” She laughed.

“Hey, this is your interview.” I rolled my eyes at her, but I could feel my cheeks warm up. “Anyways, what’s the most clients you’ve had at once?”

“Technically three.” My eyes widened, but she just continued. “Two of them were these old dudes who didn’t feed much and only took it from bags.”

“Oh wow, okay.” I wrote down some of her body language as she spoke. “Best thing a client ever gave you?” I knew a lot of people who didn’t donate liked hearing about the sugar daddy aspect of it all, I’d have to get some of that stuff in my articles.

“Oh well I had this doctor for a client, was fucking loaded. He took me on this weeklong vacation to the Bahamas.” I grinned taking a sip of wine. “I drank a piña colada out of a real coconut.” She gushed about the trip and I wrote down things I thought were important. I’d go back later and check the recording for more. We went on with the questions and drank more wine. After a few stories of being a donor I moved on to the riots and protests.

“I don’t know why they can’t just leave us alone.” Abbey sank into the couch cushions. “It’s all legal, we’re not hurting anyone, plus it’s regulated so much that it’s easy to be safe and smart about it.” I sighed. “And as a woman it’s a really great way to make 6 figures. We can’t move up quite the same way as men can.” I wrote it down as she spoke.

“I haven’t really looked at it from that perspective before.” That could be a good article to write.

“Well, in companies where one can hypothetically move up and get better pay and opportunities, women don’t make it as far as men. Even when they do, they’re not paid equally.” I nodded. “So, by donating at Positive I get to choose who pays me, and essentially what I’m getting paid. I can always drop clients, get new ones. We can even choose how we donate.” I looked at Abbey as she spoke. “We’re just using what we already have, instead of climbing a ladder that gets us nowhere.”

“So that’s definitely going in.” I underlined what the notes I took. She chuckled and took a drink.

“But back to your original question. These protests are pointless, they make what we do seem so complicated and horrible, but we’re just people, trying to make money. Just like everyone else.”

“Have you had any trouble with rioters or discrimination?”

“Fortunately, no. Besides the annoying assholes who like to wait outside the positive building, but everything that’s going on lately makes me worried. Like I’m waiting for the other foot to drop.”

“Okay, let’s go back to something happier.” I flipped my page. “Uh, oh! do you have a favorite donor?” I smirked at her topping off our glasses.

“I do, actually,” She shook her head. “I won’t name names, but he was just so nice. He just wanted to talk with me, and he never pressured me into anything. We were friends.” I smiled. “It was always easy with him.”

“Abbey that’s really sweet.” I jotted some notes down.

“Is it easy with Henry?” My pen froze.

“Well sometimes. I put him to sleep with my rambling the other night.” Abbey laughed.

“So, he is easy to talk to.” She nudged me with her foot. “You two looked good together at the Halloween party.”

“Thanks, and he is easy to talk to, but he just makes me nervous at the same time.”

“That’s because you like him so much.” I eyed the recording on my screen.

“Back to the questions.” I flicked her leg and looked on to my next subject

Eventually we got too tipsy to ask any more questions, so I shut the recording off, and we drank some more. We ended up passing out watching a movie on my couch. In the morning I was a little hungover, but Abbey made us tea while I got the last of my things together. I wasn’t excited for the long flight, but I couldn’t wait to see Irene.

“Let’s get going, we gotta make it before traffic gets bad.” She helped me with my bags, and we got in her car. The drive wasn’t too bad, and I texted Henry, but didn’t know to expect a reply or not.

“Thanks for taking me and letting me ask you all those questions.”

“Of course. It was kind of fun.”

“I’ll send you a copy before it’s published. If you need me to change something or if you want something taken out, you can tell me.” She shook her head.

“I’m sure it’ll be great, but I can’t wait to read it.” I smiled at her and we parked at the airport.

“I hope it’s good.” We said goodbye and I went through security. I waited at my gate until it was time to board, still no text from Henry. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’ll get to talk to him much over the week. We’ll have the different time zone to deal with on top of everything else. Hopefully, Irene will keep me occupied enough.

They called my group and I got in line. I moved up with the crowd and then my phone rang. I jumped and pulled it out of my pocket. It was Henry. I hit the green button a put it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Nina? Are you on the plane yet?” The line moved up again.

“Not yet, almost.” He sighed.

“Good, I just um,” He cleared his throat.

“What?” I was two people away from getting my ticket scanned.

“I wanted to say goodbye and that I’ll miss you.” His voice got low and I couldn’t help the giggle escaping my lips.

“I’ll miss you too, Henry, but I’ll only be gone a week.” The line continued.

“I know, but still. I mean it.”

“Me too. Look they’re about to take my ticket, thanks for calling.”

“Of course, goodbye Nina.”

“Goodbye Henry.” I hung up and continued onto the plane with a little more pep in my step than a hungover person should have.

 “Welcome home!” Irene was grinning at me as I walked out of the terminal. She brought me into a big hug, and I felt myself smile as big as her. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Irene.” She let me go and linked our arms.

“Come on, Mom’s waiting in the car.” We found baggage claim and as we waited for my suitcase to show up I turned my phone back on and texted Henry. Irene peaked over my shoulder. “How’s that going?” She bumped our shoulders together.

“Good, I think. He’s just so busy, it’s hard to move forward.” She raised her eyebrow.

“Physically, move forward?” She winked.

“Well, I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” She laughed. “But also, in other ways.”

“You might have to get use to that, if you’re planning on pursing something with him.” I sighed, looking out for my suitcase.

“You’re right.” I stepped forward when I saw mine and tugged it off the ramp. “Come on I’m tired from the flight.” She helped me with my things, and we walked out to the car.

“Nina! You look so beautiful!” Irene’s mom got out to hug me and kiss my cheek. “You have to tell me everything about London.”

“Mom! Give her some space, sheesh!” Irene put my suitcase in the back.

“It’s good to see you Mom.” She squeezed me once more and then we got in the car. It took us a while to get to her mom’s house, but when we got there, I immediately felt excited. Her mom had put out various gourds and squashes on their front porch, and the leaves crunched under my feet as I walked up the driveway. Irene’s cousin Lucas came and took my suitcase for me, so Irene dragged me to the house.

“You’re obviously staying in my room with, since the cousins are taking the guest room.” I nodded as she pulled me inside.

I was met with the smell of cinnamon, Irene’s mom’s choice of candles this week. I got my coat off and hung it on the hook by the door.

“Thanks Lucas.” I called to him as he lugged my things up the stairs a head of us.

“You’re welcome!”

“Come on sweetheart, sit down. Are you hungry or anything?”

“Actually, I could eat.” We sat at the dining table as Mom made something to eat.

“I’m getting the wine.” I rolled my eyes at Irene and sat down, feeling tired from the flight. We were catching up and eating when I felt my phone buzz. I set my now empty wine glass down and pulled my phone out. It was a text from Henry.

I’m glad you made it. Text me or call me when you can. Have a good holiday.

I smiled and replied saying if he was still free later, I could call him.

“Mom, look she’s grinning at her phone.” Irene nudged my shoulder, and I shoved my phone back in my pocket.

“Is that boy Irene’s been telling me about? Superman?” Mom had warmed up some soup for us and I felt warm from that and the wine. “Oh, and she’s blushing. You must really like him.”

“Yeah, you’ve barely mentioned him since you got here!” Irene added.

“I’ve only been in the country for an hour.” They laughed. “But yeah, he just texted me and yeah I like him a lot.” Mom patted my cheek.

“From what Irene’s told me he seems like a gentleman.” I nodded.

“He is,”

“Mom, he bought her this beautiful dress for a wedding they went to, and he cooked her dinner for her birthday.” Mom grinned.

“Well, Nina, you might as well have brought him here. He seems like a really good guy.” I grinned at her, loving that she liked him already. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind some new eye candy in the house.” Irene and I burst into giggles.

“I heard that!” I heard Irene’s dad call.

“Honey, you know I’m only teasing.” She yelled back but winked at us. “Okay, you need to go to bed missy.” She took my glass and plates. “I won’t have you complaining about jet lag while you’re here.”

“Thank you, and yeah I need sleep.” I stood up with Irene and went up to her room.

“Okay, so please tell me Henry confessed his undying love to you before you left him at the airport.” Irene faked a swoon, landing on her bed.

“No, you freak.” I laughed, sitting in her desk chair. “He did call me though. Told me that he’d miss me.” I grinned just thinking about it.

“Oh my god, you’re totally whipped.” I stretched my leg out and kicked her.

“Will you two shut up?” I covered my mouth as I recognized Auntie Jen’s voice from the left wall of the room. Irene and I were stifling giggled as we changed into our pajamas. We got into Irene’s bed and I felt like we were in college again, but the room was emptier now, and I didn’t have finals to stress over.

“If things are getting serious, I want to meet him soon. He’s all suave in interviews, but I want to talk to him.” I smiled.

“You will, I want to fly you out there. You stay at my place and meet my friends!” She nodded.

“Yes! I don’t mind using your sugar daddy money to get me to London.” I covered my mouth to muffle a laugh. “If one of us has a sugar daddy, both of us have one.” We couldn’t hold back the fit of giggles that came from that. Sooner or later we tired ourselves out and fell asleep.

 ~~~

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[pantheracore]

Story Time 1

I’ve decided I’m going to partially start using my blog as a well, actual blog. Starting with this 4am story time. (It is 4am as me writing this.) Special thank you to that one post about ‘would you help a cop in distress, share if you wouldn’t’ or however it is phrased. Also I don’t care if someone reads this or not, it’s just nice to actually talk about.

Okay so, I once dated a cop. Get your ‘yikes’ and ‘gross’ out now, because it becomes worse knowing he was a cishet and neurotypical cop and I’m transmasc and neurodivergent.

The story starts with a little bit of context in high school, I was going through a shit ton of trauma at the time, trying to cope in a dangerous home life and struggling not to be kicked out (which inevitably happened at the age of 14 six days before my birthday, sorry for another time though). I had been introduced to this guy through volunteering at the concessions during football games. We started texting and chatting a lot, one of the big topics was about Arctic Monkeys, which comes up again later.

So, skip forward a few weeks and I end up telling this guy that I really liked him. Of course I wasn’t having the best attachments at the time for reasons above, but I was able to open up a bit and had my first crush. Well, nothing comes of it, he dates someone else two weeks later, then I eventually get kicked out, move out of state and back a few times, before finally settling back in that town. As an adult now, I kind of minded my own business until out of the blue, he messages me again. Now, I still had a soft spot for him because yknow, he was my first real crush and person I liked. I could still remember the comfort while talking to him and dealing with all my personal life bullshit. We start talking and he ends up hanging out.

We would often go out to eat, him treating me, and when we would hang out at my house, he, like every other cishet guy I dated, pressured me into yknow, nsfw activities, knowing I was going by aroace at the time. After that started happening, we would end up talking like once every other week, or even once every three weeks. I didn’t care cause we weren’t in an official relationship yet.

I decided to end up telling him I kind of wanted to date, and invited him to Thanksgiving with my family. Now that whole thing is a story for a different time because it involves my heavily christian step-aunt who claims to know I had DID when I was in the 3rd grade and who gets ‘prophetic messages’ and just bleh. That’s a trip in of itself.

Everything goes well, my aunt pulls the ‘oh we all know he really cares about you, you can tell’ bullshit. Which it was. So not only am I being pressured into NSFW (non-maliciously tbh) but my family is now pressuring me into dating him and staying with him.

Well luckily for me, though I didn’t realize it at the time, he would keep coming over once every like 2 weeks. I would ask to hang out with him more and his friends (which he only took me to see once) and I even old him about availability in the apartment complex I lived in. So him and his friend moved in a building or so down. I was excited cause this meant he could come over more right?

Yeah no. That’s when he started to really ghost me and talk to me maybe once a month. He would sit there and make a plan to walk over and see me, but always cancel. After not hearing from him for 3 months I finally decided I was done being a side piece, cause guess what, I was apparently.

I found out he was dating someone else through a mutual friend later and they actually got engaged a few weeks ago. LMFAO. It’s fine I have a loving partner now.

Also this is like my most tame story about anyone I have ever dated. Others I might talk about later include a couple I dated where one of them took advantage of me while I was stupid drunk, then that time I dated a 21 year old when I was 17, oh and the person I almost bought a promise ring who left me because they let someone worm inside their brain and dated two people who made me extremely uncomfy one of which was 10 years older than them. :D

Also fuck cops, every single one I know is a piece of shit including one whose son did a lot of really bad things and he never did anything about it.

I swear my luck is fucking god tier. Anyways, I’ll tell a funny story next time.

[ask-villain-izuku-midoriya]

May need to take a break

Ace here. I think we need to talk.

I’m kinda not okay right now. I’m super stressed out because of my job. I work as a CSR for Domino’s, and due to high labor costs, I’ve been cut down to 22 hours a week. I am literally scraping by, living off of tips and sustaining myself on Chef Boyardee. The other day my debit card began acting up, and my roommate had to buy my Lyft for me.

Trey and I are being transferred to a newer Domino’s that’s opening up next week. While it would be good because I’ll be able to go back to full time and make more tips, it’s farther away from my apartment so Lyft prices are going to go up.

I’m not sure if I have told you all, but the friend K(the one that blamed me for everything) still fucking hates me, to the point that when Trey tried to reason with him, K punched the shit out of him. He had to get 3 stitches on the inside of his mouth, and his mom kicked me out. Thankfully I already had a place so I wasn’t going to end up homeless. This was in September, and Kevin still blames me for it all. Not to mention that, unless I left our Discord server, he wasn’t going to pay Trey back a large debt.(Trey had loaned him $3,000 at one point)

My health has been horrible lately. At one point I covered a manager shift as well as my own shift. I worked from 12:45 p.m. to 02:30 a.m, which was a 14 hour shift.

Because of what that Satan spawn M did, I tested positive on B.V., and had to take antibiotics. They had been giving me bad anxiety and the doctor told me to lessen the dosage after a small break. The next morning I took a half pill. Between stress, exhaustion, and the medication, I was really not feeling good.

I had needed to sit down because I legitimately felt sick. When my boyfriend went to check on me, he saw me kinda slumped over in the seat. He put his hand on my shoulder and I fell out of the chair and onto the floor.

I was unconscious for 4 minutes.

Trey practically had to carry me to his car so he could take me home, I could barely stand. The next day I showed up an hour early so that I could make it up, and my assistant manager yelled at me, saying that I fucked everyone over by leaving early.

My phone broke on the same day, so I had to buy a new one a week later. Some credit score company charged me 40 bucks so I have to wait on them to refund me. Most likely I’ll be without phone service for a few days.

I ended up overdrafting my debit card on a Thanksgiving present for my mom, and got no thank you whatsoever. They’re idea of thanking me was sending that LOVELY text to my grandma. Not to mention said sister declining my call and my brother downright hanging up on me when I told him who it was.

I don’t know why I try for them, it’s just never enough.

I’m still battling some personal shit from when M took advantage of me. My aunt demanded the whole story a while ago and that kinda wasn’t fun, reliving that. Trey and I are having sex, but small things are causing me to shut down and have panic attacks during sex.

I have made several forms of social media recently and M pops up on the recommended for you on every single one. To be honest just seeing him makes me scared. I went through my old phone trying to export some of the files on there and some of the things from back then were still on there. Text streams, screenshots, photos, and even an audio recording from then...just seeing it all made me want to fucking vomit.

I’m really not doing too well so I may need to take a small break until I get some personal shit figured out. Sorry, guys.

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 16

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark casual reminder: this story is r o u g h. themes of rape, kidnapping, power imbalances, etc.. This story does not depict healthy or safe relationships. Trigger warning for violence.

Peter Parker was persistent. He had the kind of focus not seen in many teenagers, a dead set determination and a clever tongue to boot. Tony knew his boy hadn't learned his fast-talking ways from Penny, who would rather plow through problems with a baseball bat and her boots than sweet talk her way through anything, and he honestly wished he could've met their aunt May. She must've been one cunning lady to have raised such shit kickers. Especially since Peter, for all of his brutal intelligence, knew when to feign his sister's bambi eyes and play young and dumb. 

Unfortunately, Tony had a tendency to overlook the fact that Peter was a genius. It wasn't an exaggeration, it wasn't stretching the truth, Peter had a deadly combination of intelligence and cunning that was far beyond most people’s scope of understanding. Maybe if things had gone different, Penny could’ve explained that Peter was a fucking Slytherin. The kid had a level of ambition and determination that meant his intelligence went from ‘damn he’s smart’ to ‘oh no he’s smart’.

It was a thin line that Penny had learned to walk quite well, but that Tony wasn't quite aware of. If he knew how fast the teenager's mind worked, he would've waited to let Peter see Penny. Instead, he agreed that they would have dinner on the soldier's floor. The second they stepped off the elevator and through the door to the apartment, Peter had already begun calculating. Steve clocked it within minutes, the way the teenager’s eyes scanned. 

Peter knew without a doubt that he was the safest person in the tower at any given time, both literally and figuratively. JARVIS had eyes on him every second of the day, regardless of privacy protocols and dark rooms. If Peter was in the tower, JARVIS was watching and entirely prepared to obliterate any danger in over ten miles, if Tony's spiel could be believed. If anyone decided to try to hurt Peter, they would literally be dead in seconds. 

He also currently possessed at least 90% of Tony Stark's devotion. The man was admittedly a creep, but he was a very powerful and very dangerous creep. Peter had seen the kind of men who skittered away under the weight of Tony's glare, who were more afraid of Tony Stark than of their mobster bosses. People were scared of the power Tony had and that included every person in the tower— the soldiers were not exempt.

The soldiers were not exempt and Peter was savagely aware of his status in comparison to theirs.

And Penny wasn't right. Penny was good at hiding her distress she always had been. Even when all of her loved ones were dying around her she'd kept her head on straight. Peter couldn't remember seeing her falter even once when she knew he was watching. But she was not okay and he noticed immediately and he did not like it. 

She'd greeted him when he and Tony came in. She'd hugged him tight and kissed his cheek and whispered she loved him. Tony had quickly inserted himself, wrapping around the pair and cooing at them both like they were puppies. Steve felt his jaw tick; Peter was subconsciously checking her for injuries, tucking Penny as close to his chest as he could and engulfing her small frame while his eyes scanned their surroundings.

It was strange to see a place so heavily influenced by Penny's tastes. They'd never had money before, never had the opportunity for Penny to so any sort of decorating, but the soldier's living room was decorated exactly to her dreams. There were plants everywhere, a giant hammock hung from the ceiling in front of the windows right next to an oversized beanbag chair. There was a delicate looking shelf with a vast array of yarn. It looked green and warm and there was a fireplace under the tv that he knew she'd love once winter hit. 

Because they were still gonna be there in the winter. Peter understood that, to some degree. That it had been early May when they were first taken, he'd been about to graduate. Penny would turn 25 in August and he would turn 18 in September. And they'd be in the tower. They'd be in the tower for their birthdays and for Halloween and Thanksgiving and Hanukkah. Unless something happened. 

The longer he watched Penny interact with the soldiers, the more Peter decided that something needed to happen. 

He hadn’t seen a happy or pleased look on Penny’s face since the day they’d been kidnapped. There was no telling if Tony or the others could tell, but he got the feeling they couldn't. To be fair, she had a bit of a resting bitch face and it was difficult for some people to distinguish between ‘that’s just how my face looks’ and ‘if one more bitch throws a stone in this glass house I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it’. Even Peter could admit the differences were subtle; it came down to a slight dimple in her cheek caused when she grit her teeth especially hard on the left side, the way her nose twitched when someone said something especially fucking dumb. Usually when she spent so long looking so pissed off, she’d come home from the night shift with a bag of weed the moment she could afford it. 

But the way she looked now wasn’t… anything Peter had ever seen before. Happiness was easy to identify if you knew her and he’d seen what she looked like two minutes before she started screaming in anger. He could remember the several times the pair of them had been in some sort of custody related court hearing and he knew what fear looked like on Penny’s face too. It wasn’t fear, though, the expression on Penny’s face; it wasn’t the fear he’d witnessed on her face when she’d been so, so afraid that she wouldn’t be put under aunt May and uncle Ben’s custody. It wasn’t even the same expression she’d made the day they were deciding on whether or not he’d be able to stay under her custody after aunt May died, but fear was the closest thing he could compare it too. 

It was crushing to witness. Penny’s natural tan had gone pasty white, the blood drained from her features. Her hair was a frizzed up mess, meaning she’d been pulling at it constantly for hours. Her eyes were bloodshot and constantly scanning and she was staying within arm’s reach of the soldiers at all times. He almost wondered if it was some stupid rule they’d given her like the ones Tony gave him sometimes; arbitrary orders just to see if he’d follow the rules properly. 

But the soldiers were acting incredibly casual and simply accepting the closeness like it was a gift. Every time she brushed near them, Peter could see the way their faces would light up. Both Steve and Bucky were unnecessarily attractive, problematically pretty and when they were happy— well, they were really attractive when they were happy. Steve looked like a golden retriever, exhilarated and bright. Bucky was a harder read but even his eyes were softer, his stance more relaxed. 

“Food will be up soon, how about we pick the movie?” Steve was facing the TV as he spoke, remote in one hand while the other smoothed over Penny’s back, “anybody have any suggestions?” 

“Not Star Wars,” Tony spoke up, tone light as he put his arms around Peter from behind, kissing the side of the teenager’s head, “we’ve been marathoning them for days and there’s still more.” 

“Star Wars is great,” he automatically argued, forcing his body not to relax into the hold. 

“What about a fantasy film instead of sci-fi then? JARVIS, could you show us options?” 

The men all bickered casually over their options, but Peter turned his head to Penny and spoke in Hebrew, “what’s wrong Penina?”

The words seemed to startle her out of a trance and she turned to look at him, confusion in her eyes; he very rarely used her Hebrew name. It was common for Jewish kids to have a Hebrew name tucked away, the one that families generally used versus the English name they used by day. Penina Shoshana was her full name, her grandfather had been Penuel and was the reason Penny and Peter both had P names. Shoshana was named for her father, Ephraim. 

“Nothing my love,” she answered quietly, eyelashes fluttering slightly and he could see the shine of tears in her eyes, “nothing is wrong.” 

Peter squirmed out of Tony’s arms and walked to the couch, grabbing her arm and pulling her down onto the same cushion as him. He wrapped himself around her like an octopus, sending Steve a dark look when the blond looked back curiously, and tugged her closer. 

“Don’t lie, please tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Palti Chayim,” Penny rarely used his Hebrew name, only when she was chastising him, but it was all she could choke out, her eyes so full of fear, “don’t look at him like that, don’t make them angry.”

“But—” 

“Hey, we’re feeling a little left out here,” Tony plopped onto the couch directly next to him and wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders, “I’m surprised you both know Hebrew so well, you must’ve learned it as kids?” 

Peter tried not to grit his teeth; he was trying to have a serious conversation with his sister but if he didn’t answer Tony promptly and with the correct attitude he’d get called bratty and get threatened with a punishment. Penny was in a fragile state— Peter literally didn’t know how she’d react to him being threatened right in front of her. He’d never seen her like this before, he was missing key variables. 

“Penny knows it better than me,” he answered, “I learned when I was little but Penny spoke it enough that it kept me from forgetting it all once we moved in with aunt May. Penina, please tell me what’s going on? What did they do to you?” 

“Penina, is that what Penny is short for?” Bucky questioned, coming to sit far too close to them on the opposite side of the couch from Tony, “I thought it was Penelope?” 

“Jewish kids have Hebrew names most of the time,” Peter forced himself to bite out, “They chose Penina first with Penny for a nickname, Penelope was just an easy derivative for an English name.” 

“Peter you must let it go,” Penny’s voice almost startled him, especially coming from so close to his ear. 

“I’m not letting it go! What did they do to you?” 

Steve was watching him. The blond man was careful and incredibly discreet but Peter felt the tingle run up his spine. There was a dangerous energy behind the muscle bound giant, he retained the golden retriever essence but there was red behind it. Penny immediately clocked it as well.

“Do not speak in such a tone, Palti,” Penny’s tone was more controlled than Peter’s was but the panic was still there and she followed it up with a string of words he vaguely recognized from the Torah, mumbled so fast under her breath he couldn’t make out the individual words. 

“Penny,” her head turned, nervous brown eyes landing on Steve.

It was probably a good thing that Peter couldn’t tell what was going on in her head. The fear she’d experienced for 7 and a half fucking hours of being alone with Steve. A man that she witnessed torture another human being without hesitation just 24 hours ago. He would’ve lost it and his captors would realize he was far more like Penny than they could’ve imagined. 

“You need to speak a language we can understand, your tone is making us nervous,” the man’s words were calm and his tone was even. 

There wasn’t a hint of agitation that Peter could hear but Penny’s spine stiffened and she nodded immediately, lips pressed tightly shut. 

“Now, what movie should we watch?” 

“They hurt you, didn’t they? Tell me, I’ll tell Tony, he’ll take you from them!” 

“Palti Chayim, stop it!” An accent laced Penny’s voice, audible beneath her panic, “Now! You have to stop!” 

“Peter,” Tony’s hand casually found the back of his neck, fingers massaging into the tissue gently but pointedly, “between the three of us, we know at least 10 different languages. You can pick any of those, but you need to pick one we understand.” 

The order raced across his skin like a spiderweb, chills chasing down his spine at the nearly tangible sensation. Disobeying direct orders from Tony was one of Peter’s least favourite things to do, both because it resulted in a punishment 9 times out of 10 and because it meant Tony would be upset with him. He hated making Tony upset, despite everything. 

Once again his brain repeated what he’d been thinking for days and days, ‘if you just hadn’t of hurt Penny, if you’d left her out of this, why did you have to do this, it didn’t have to be this way’. How was he supposed to deal with such an offense, the blatant disregard for his sister’s life. Penny was the single most important person in Peter’s life but he was just supposed to deal with how she’d been treated? Like an abused fucking dog. Passed off to whatever schlep would take her, beaten into obedience and expected to be kind and loving and loyal and beaten again every time she wasn’t. 

“They hurt her,” he snapped, eyes locked on where Bucky was sitting so close to her, “they had to have, there’s no other reason Penny would be acting like this!” 

“Peter—” Bucky cut Penny off before she could finish, standing up with her in his arms and taking just a couple of steps away from the couch.

“Hush, babydoll,” the way the man arranged her in his arms bothered him, the way he rolled her head against his shoulder and tilted his head down to shadow her face. Who the fuck did he think he was, touching his sister like that?

“Peter, I want you to listen to me,” Tony took his chin in hand and turned his face, “Penny has not been hurt, she was punished for acting out last night. She wasn’t hurt at all.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Peter snapped to his feet, heart racing under his ribs, “Y-You think whatever they did to her… was okay? S-She’s traumatized! I’ve never seen her so terrified in my entire fucking life, what the fuck Tony!?” 

“Baby boy if you don’t calm down immediately there will be consequences. You’re getting your sister worked up over a punishment that should’ve been put to bed the moment it was over. You’ve earned yourself a couple of punishments yourself, haven’t you?” There was a cold calmness in the man’s voice, at war with the fire in his eyes. 

Part of him wanted to believe that Tony couldn’t possibly mean what he was saying. Penny was broken, something was wrong. How could he say that, as if she deserved to be traumatized for whatever stupid behavior she’d displayed.

It would’ve been okay, maybe, for her to have gotten a spanking like he had before. It wasn’t a lasting punishment, it wouldn’t follow her in her nightmares. It certainly wouldn’t bother her while she was awake—he’d bet Penny would chew literal glass before allowing herself to act like she was in pain from something like a spanking. Whatever this was, it had changed her entire demeanor into something he wasn’t entirely sure he recognized. It wasn’t just some punishment for misbehaving, they’d hurt her and he didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care. 

Peter turned to look where Penny had managed to wriggle her way onto her feet despite Bucky’s arms remaining loosely around her, swallowing heavily, “I’m going to get us out of here, Penina. I promise Penny, whatever I have to do to get us away, I’m gonna do it.” 

He didn’t notice Tony’s phone go off hardly a second later, but he did feel the way Tony’s hand closed over the back of his neck. The pressure steadily increased until he found himself squeezing his eyes shut, apprehension tangling its way down his nervous system. 

“I know that you were told to speak a different language—twice, baby. You deliberately disobeyed. You’re not going anywhere, sweet boy, there’s no getting away,” Tony’s voice vibrated through his entire body, his knees trembled, “and you should know better than to be acting out like this.” 

Already weak kneed, Peter was quick to collapse under the weight of Tony’s hand. The landing was jarring and painful but Tony immediately stepped up closer and pulled him to lean his weight against his legs, cheek pressed firmly to the hollow in the older man’s hip by a tight grip on his hair. Peter managed to tilt his head back just enough to see the way Tony looked down at him, the stern expression on his face. 

It only lasted a second or two. At least, that’s what it felt like in Peter’s eyes. One moment, Tony was staring down at him, flexing the hand clenching his hair and the next he was just gone. All 125lbs of Penny had bulldozed him, shoulder finding prime real estate exactly where his sternum ended and the fragile connection of his false ribs became the most tenuous. There was a horribly awkward inhale followed by a pained wheeze. Tony stumbled and hit the ground and then everyone moved at the same time. 

Penny darted forward to grab the injured man, hands already tucked into fists as she landed on her knees at his side. Before she could enact anymore acts of brutality Bucky and Steve had burst forward. Steve hauled Penny up and over his shoulder in less than a second, completely immune to her screaming obscenities. Bucky followed Tony to the floor and carefully felt out the prone man’s ribs, flesh fingers gliding over bruising skin as delicately as possible. He couldn’t find any fractures, nothing was obvious other than the abrasions, but they’d still have to call Bruce down. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too disturbed by the late hour. Or the multiple house calls in one day (to the same floor even, they were fucked). 

“Penny, babydoll—twice in two days?” Steve sighed heavily as he manipulated her carefully in his arms, her own pinned to her sides. 

“I’ll fucking kill him, I don’t care!” She screamed, tears of fear and rage slipping from her eyes, “Don’t you ever touch him! I’ll fucking die first, Stark! I’ll kill you myself!” 

Penny’s knee slipped from Steve’s grip and she immediately drove it up straight into his face. She hit the ground full force, back taking the entire impact and knocking the breath out of her. Steve stumbled back a step or two before going through the coffee table, smashing it to bits while blood spewed everywhere. 

Recovering from her rough landing took more time than she’d anticipated, but Penny managed to weakly grasp the leg of the coffee table, broken off in Steve’s spill, on her way back to her feet. 

Peter’s eyes went almost impossibly wide at the sight; Penny had played softball since she could walk. She’d been such a good batter that had she finished high school, she likely would’ve gotten a full ride scholarship for the position. She hit harder than any other player in the state, harder than the majority of the baseball teams’ players in the area. Her wrist rolled and the wood spun around her hand before coming to rest in her palm again. 

Bucky didn’t even really see it coming, but Peter watched it happen in slow motion. The man’s head turned one frame at a time while Penny adjusted her grip and wound up. He just barely managed to raise his metal arm in time to deflect the tail end of the hit. 

Steve and Tony couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen Bucky hit the ground like a sack of bricks. A completely uncontrolled fall, head bouncing off the luckily carpeted floor. Tony would’ve been next, had Steve not gathered his bearings with an unsettling swiftness. He rose to his feet, blood pouring from his nose, and grabbed Penny from behind. It was fortunate that by now she’d run through her repertoire of bear hug hold escapes because she didn’t try anything that managed to surprise him, maintaining a carefully balanced amount of pressure and support. 

 “Shhhh, babydoll, you’re gonna go to sleep now,” Steve’s hand closed over her throat, thumb covering her pulse with a careful pressure, “just go to sleep baby, we’ll take care of this.” 

“D-Don’t hurt her,” Peter felt a panic attack coming on with rapid speed, twisting in his chest and knotting around his heart, “please, please—”

“It’s okay, Peter, you don’t have to worry, Penny’s safe,” the blond’s words were gentle despite the situation, despite the fact that Penny went limp in his arms within seconds and his eyes locked on the boy’s face, “all we want is for you both to be safe and happy and we’re going to figure out how to make that work. It’s our fault that everything’s been so difficult on you both, but we’ll fix it. Just give us a chance sweetheart, I promise we’re going to fix it.” 

There was a shocking amount of meaning portrayed in so few sentences. They were going to figure it out, make it work. They were going to fix it and Peter had no idea what that entailed and no idea what impact it would have on his sister but he understood now. He understood why Penny looked so exhaustingly terrified; Steve Rogers was covered in blood, still actively bleeding while his nose swelled and his eyes bruised. His lover was knocked out cold on the floor, next to one of his best friends who still gasped for every other breath. 

The golden retriever of a man transformed into something unseemly. There was a darkness in his eyes, a sharpness to his face, and a cunning cut to his stare. He was terrifying in a way that Tony couldn’t emulate, one that caused a primal sense of fear to build in the back of one's skull.

But Peter Parker was a fucking genius and if these bastards thought for a moment they could outsmart him they were wrong. Because if you gathered all that determination and all that ruthlessness together, it collected into a powder keg. So maybe he was the powder keg, not Penny. Penny was just the match and Peter was the one about to explode.

*edited 10/6/2020 — adjusted dates

[bethhxrmon]

do flowers exist at night? -chapter eight

Chapter Eight: A Turkey Dance

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: After a little while, Thanksgiving has finally decided to show up. It causes Annie to have some realizations about everything around her.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, dysfunctional family stuff

A/N: Howdy, not gonna lie, I’ve run out of motivation over the last month. I’ve got up through chapter sixteen written, but reblogs and comments are the best way to help me get that motivation! Also, school’s starting for me tomorrow so that is definitely going to come before this fic. Anyways, if you’d like to see the other parts of the fic you can go here.

~*~*~*~

Thanksgiving was ordinarily a good enough holiday. There was food and a parade to watch plus a cute dog show afterwards. Annie's parents were never into football, so she never had to put up with watching the sport. However, this year was a little different than other years.

By a little different, that meant it was a huge difference. Initially, she assumed that it would just be her mom and herself sitting in front of the television and watching whatever was on.

Now, Annie wasn't against her mom dating someone else, but introducing the guy at Thanksgiving just felt a little bit weird to her. It could have been worse, though. The guy could have been a complete dick and Annie would have purposely made the day a living hell for everyone.

Fortunately, Scott Clarke was a nice guy. There wasn't any way around it. A part of Annie wanted to just hate him, but it was easy to like the middle school science teacher. How he and her mom met was beyond her, but her mom seemed pretty happy about it.

Steve told her to just give him a call if things got unbearable. His parents would be around, but he swore he would make up an excuse to help her out. What were friends for if not saving what was originally a well-liked holiday?

Everything was pretty nice that morning. Annie was working on baking a pumpkin pie and was making some mashed sweet potatoes. That was about the extent of her cooking ability. The pie was easy, she just had to pour a few cans of mix into the premade crust and make sure it didn't burn. The sweet potatoes were just the anomaly of being able to cook one thing decently enough.

"I've heard a lot about you from your mom," Scott said.

Annie nodded as she poured in the pie filling, "Yeah, I've heard a bit about you from some kids I know."

"Which kids?"

"Um... I think they're your AV kids? Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I think Max is in there, right?"

"Yes, you'd be correct," he grinned, "They're a bright group. How do you know them?"

"Um..." she paused, realizing she couldn't explain the real circumstances, "I helped babysit them a couple of times."

It was obvious that Scott was trying and Annie had to give him some credit. From how the kids talked about him, he was a smart and nice guy. While she wasn't ordinarily inclined to trust the judgement of a bunch of eighth graders, she trusted those kids.

While this wasn't the Thanksgiving Annie had counted on, it wasn't warranting a call to Steve. However, when the doorbell rang, a few alarms automatically went off in Annie's brain.

She went over to open the door and saw none other than Carter Hardwick. Already, she could feel her stomach twisting in knots. As nice of a guy as Scott was, she doubted that he dad would take well to him. Hypocritical yes, but what was a shitty parent if not just that?

"Anne, aren't you happy to see me?" he asked.

Annie forced a smile, "Uh yeah! Just um- just a bit unexpected."

"Well, I wrote."

Maybe she shouldn't have burned those letters after all.

Begrudgingly, she let her dad into the house. What other choice did she have? If her mom wanted to force him out, she wouldn't stop her. However, Annie was all too aware that she had no way of telling anyone what to do in this situation.

"And who's this?" her dad asked, nodding at Scott.

"Mom's new boyfriend," she said, her brain simply short-circuiting.

How couldn’t that have happened? The way her dad stared at the other man made Annie want to crawl into a hole. Thankfully, her mom came out into the living room. There was no hiding the look of disdain on her face. It was even more obvious when her mom asked him to talk with her for a moment.

He shrugged, "I'm sure whatever you have to say to me can be heard by our daughter and whatever asshole you've got over here."

"I'm speaking to you alone," her mom insisted.

That left the living room with only Scott and Annie. They both decided to just watch the dog show going on in front of them. Erik hopped onto the arm of the couch and Annie busied herself with petting him.

"So what's that little guy's name?" he asked.

"Oh, this is Erik. He's the family cat, but he likes me the most. Probably because I'm the most relaxed one in the house, I guess."

He nodded, "Poor, poor Erik."

"Wait... you've read Phantom?"

"Well, of course. It has some of the most amazing scientific ideas for the time!"

She thought a moment before nodding, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

While Annie wasn't sure what to think of her mom dating someone, she was at least glad this guy was nicer than her dad. The contrast was obvious when her parents both walked out.

"Anne, you'll be happy to know your good-ole dad's gonna be here for the day," her dad said as she dodged him ruffling her hair.

"You're not my dad," she said plainly before her eyes widened a bit.

That wasn't something she counted on coming out of her mouth, but she wasn't about to take it back. Technically, she was right. Neither of her parents were biological. Still, they took care of her like they were. Except, with all the things her dad had said and done in the past, she knew she could hold that lack of biology against him as long as she wanted.

"Go to your room!" he snapped.

Annie let out a laugh, "Are you serious?! You don't even live here! If you actually wanted to be a good dad you would... you- well you would pay the damn child support once in a while! You only have to make thirteen of them!"

"Annette!" her mom said, "I think you could use a moment to cool off."

That was the nicest way her mom could tell her to go to her room. Maybe she hit a nerve or two, but Annie knew she hadn't said anything that wasn't already true. There wasn't any use in arguing, though. Not when she almost wanted out of the situation. She picked up her cat and took him to her room with her.

This was the exact sort of thing she was supposed to call Steve over. So she took the phone in her room and dialed his number. As it turned out, Steve did have a phone in his room. One which they had both completely neglected that night a few weeks ago. A night she wasn't over by any means. She hadn't told her mom about any of it, and she knew that she probably would never be able to explain it. It still stuck around in her head. The inter-dimensional and the real things that happened just wouldn't leave.

She let out a sigh as she heard the phone ringing and she twisted the phone cord around her finger.

"Hello?"

"Steve?"

"It's not even noon yet," he said, almost laughing, "That bad already?"

Annie chewed on her lip, "My dad made a surprise visit... I kinda told him he's not my dad and to pay the child support for once."

"Oh shit..." he sighed, "I'd try to come and get you but um- my parents sprung a surprise trip to my aunt's on me."

"That- that's fine, I get it. You gotta see your family."

"If it's any consolation, I'll wish I'm not there. I'd really prefer to hang out with you."

She smiled a bit, "That's nice... I'd rather hang out with you too. Of course, I'd rather hang out with a cockroach than be stuck here."

"Well, if I make it back early enough, maybe I can make something work," he suggested.

"I'd like that a lot."

There was shouting in the background of Steve's end, "Uh I gotta go. Good luck, though."

"Thanks um- you too."

Then the phone clicked off and Annie set her own on the receiver. Admittedly, she almost counted on hanging out with Steve. Aside from the kids, there really wasn't anyone else she spent a lot of time with.

The thought of him trying to come over later did make her feel special. Not that she was about to say so. It was normal, they sort of just had each other. She didn't have any friends to begin with and she knew Steve would sooner die than third wheel his ex all the time.

Aside from sort of being social outcasts and dealing with the Upside Down together, what did they have in common in the first place? Maybe they had a similar sense of humor and similar music tastes, but almost anyone could have those things in common. They were just friends and Annie knew that didn't mean they had to do anything more than that.

Either way, Annie knew that she wasn't going to bother with leaving her room until someone told her to. Continuing on with her reading of War and Peace was fine with her. Contrary to her dad's opinions, she thought it was an interesting book.

A part of her was almost too invested in some of the drama of it all. What with Natasha now being tempted by Anatole as Sonya tried to be a good and loyal cousin as well as a friend. It had her reading the pages as quickly as she could. Though, a huge factor in getting through the book as quickly as she was had to be waking up in the middle of the night.

The nightmares didn't happen every night, but it wouldn't have made much of a difference either way. It was too much for her to deal with. While Steve wanted her to talk about it with him, she still didn't say much about it.

"Annie?" her mom knocked at her door.

She marked her book, "What's up?"

The door opened as her mom stepped inside, "You know, I think we still need a couple of things from the grocery store."

"Wait," she looked over the list being handed to her, "I thought we had-"

Her mom cut her off, "We're gonna run out soon. Just take your time, alright? There's no rush."

"Oh, okay."

This happened often enough when they lived in New York. If tensions got really high, her mom would send her out somewhere to do something. That didn't mean she missed out on all the yelling and arguing, though.

Still, it was enough for Annie to take the hint and grab her red, fleece-lined jacket off a hanger and left the house without saying anything. She was almost positive they didn't need any of this. They had more than enough butter and Annie could barely stand Stove Top stuffing in the first place.

She walked rather aimlessly, though she was headed toward the town. If she were too aimless, she would have ended up in the woods. As bright as the day seemed, she still didn't trust herself to go there alone.

Besides, she still hadn't found her switchblade since trying to fight Billy. A part of her thought it was possible he had it. Though, it was just as likely that it was in some obscure place of the Byers' house. She didn't want to go back there any time soon. It wasn't that she had anything against the family, but the thought of going back into the house or stepping into the living room? That was out of the question.

A part of her wished she had some way to actually make Billy pay for everything he did. The problem was that there wasn't any way to do that without giving away everything else. Not that she could think of, anyway. And who knows, maybe she didn't interpret everything properly. Maybe he hadn't done anything.

Her hands clenched inside her jacket pockets as she continued walking. A part of her wanted to tell her mom at the very least. The closest that got was when her mom saw the scar that the cut she got on her face left behind. She blamed it on getting into a bit of an altercation with Erik.

After walking for some time, Annie found her way to a small park. Someone was sitting on the swings. She could see the red hair from pretty far off, but she was unsure of who it was. Though, the closer she got, the more certain she was.

"Max? What're you doing out here?" she asked, sitting on the other swing.

Max looked over to her, "Um... just hanging out."

"None of the guys are available?" she asked.

Max shook her head, "It's Thanksgiving, everyone's with their families."

"Yeah? Well, then what're you doing out here? It's a bit chilly."

"Um..." Max let out a sigh, "You know how the whole divorced kid thing goes. It's my first Thanksgiving without my dad around and Neil and Billy are... um... they're being themselves."

Annie frowned, "They're not hurting you are they? Because if they are I-"

"No, not like that. After I almost hit Billy's nuts with that bat he's been a bit better. It still um- it scares me sometimes, though.

She nodded, "I guess that makes sense. I wish I could look forward to my dad showing up out of nowhere today, but that guy's a dick."

"Oh, was it just gonna be you and your mom?"

"And your science teacher."

"Mr. Clarke?!" Max exclaimed, laughing, "You're kidding!"

She laughed along with Max, "I'm not- I mean, having my mom date some guy like this is weird, but- but I guess things could be a lot worse, you know? Well, before my dad showed up and managed to make it awkward for everyone."

"Oh, that sucks. Sorry, I just don't know what else would help you."

Annie shook her head, "That's alright. You're, like, thirteen? You don't need to worry about helping me."

The both of them stuck around and talked to each other for a while. They managed to avoid actually talking about the awful things Billy had done. Likely because neither of them were prepared for a conversation like that. At the very least, Annie knew that just thinking about talking about that with anyone was enough to make her nauseous.

Eventually, it was for the best that Max went home, so Annie walked her back before turning around and heading back to her own house. She would have to face everything there eventually. But maybe her dad decided to buzz off by that point.

There was no such luck, though. As awkward as it was for her, she gave Scott props for not finding an excuse to get out of the house until the meal was over. If she were him, she  would have faked a family emergency in a heartbeat. Though, it was possible that he was just a better person than she was. Lots of people were.

"So, Anne, I've heard you're reading War and Peace," her dad said as they all sat around eating pie.

Annie nodded, "Yep."

"I don't understand why you would bother. I've already told you all the reasons it's a waste of time."

Annie set down her fork before looking over at him, "Maybe I started to realize you compulsively lie about everything. Oh, or maybe I realized people have different tastes from you. Hm, maybe it's the fact that I couldn't give a shit about your opinion of me after everything you've done."

"Language, young lady! Elsa, is this really what you're letting our daughter get away with?"

"I'm not your kid! If I were, you wouldn't send me a ten page letter about how I-"

"Cut it out! Both of you," her mom snapped, "Look, I'm not about to kick my own daughter out of my house, but Carter? I've done nothing but try to make this day decent and, frankly, I'm tired of that. I need you to leave."

Annie focused on her pie as her mom and dad headed out of the kitchen. It beat getting told to quiet down or to stop rambling. Although, it was clear the enjoyment of silence wasn't mutual.

"This pie is great," Scott told her.

She forced a smile, "Thanks... my mom ended up doing most of the work this year, though."

"You know, I hope you don't think I'm intruding on anything. I know this wasn't the best time to try and introduce myself."

"Look, I'm gonna be honest with you. Having my mom date someone is super weird, but I don't hate you. That being said, if you even so much as think about hurting my mom, I'll find a way to make your life a living hell."

Eventually, Annie was able to go back to her room for reasons other than getting into it with her dad. It was nearly midnight and she was focused on the book in front of her as she sat in her bed. There wasn't any school the next day, so she didn't worry about what time she went to bed.

Her distracted state didn't last long when she heard something knock on the window. When she looked out she only saw a shadowy figure outside and her eyes widened. Though, looking closer, it was obviously just Steve.

She opened the door, though she did so a bit sheepishly. How could she have been so easily scared by her closest friend? Steve slid in quietly, though there was a bit of tumbling in since her bed was right under her window. If he got his shoes on her light grey comforter, she would have probably screamed.

He grinned, "Told ya I'd come over."

"Steve, I- I wish you'd told me first," she said.

His smile faded a bit, "I can leave if-"

"No, sorry, just," she sighed, "I don't know, everything just really sucks right now."

There was a long pause before Annie let herself say what happened that day. She wished today could have been normal. That every day could be normal. If that meant her life was boring then so be it. Maybe all the boring people had it right.

"That's really shitty," Steve said, looking at her.

"Yeah."

"Hey, maybe it'll get better."

"Maybe."

A few more minutes and Steve was doing everything he could to get Annie to laugh. It took a solid half hour to get a real laugh out of her, but he did it. After getting her a bit more distracted, they ended up talking about everything except the things they should have probably talked about.

Instead, it meant both of them staying up until the clock in Annie's room read that it was nearly three in the morning. It was around that point that Steve passed out in the chair next to her desk and Annie was only partially on the bed with her head and torso laid out on the carpet and her legs on the mattress.

Tag List (lmk if you want on): @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @nxncywheeler​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

[quyennie]

Thanksgiving with Lou

Pairing: Reader x Lou (VAV)

Word Count: 1497

Genre: Smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (y/n is on bc), risky sex, cream pie, 

A/N: none this is pretty tame actually

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!! ENJOY!

You were headed to your parents for Thanksgiving. The entire family was going to be there, and you were really hoping your brother would bring his super-hot roommate so you could at least have some eye candy to get you through the repeated questions of are you still single, when are you going to get married, don’t you have a boyfriend, are you a lesbian. You really hated all these questions. You were so tired of these questions, you really just wanted to say you were a lesbian, but then you’d have no chance of ever getting with Lou, so you endured it. You knew your chances of getting with him kept growing smaller the longer you waited though, so you devised a plan to hook up with him during thanksgiving dinner this year. You saw the way he looked at you, and you knew he wanted it just as bad but neither of you ever acted on it. You weren’t entirely sure how you were going to make it happen, but it had to be now.

You pulled into the driveway of the house you grew up in. It was a big, white house with flowers in the front and a lot of trees. You really loved this house, but not when the family got together. Your grandma made a lot of snarky remarks, your cousins had their perfect lives, your parents seemed perfect, but you knew that was a lie; your aunts and uncles all lived so luxuriously, your brother was a shit so no one even bothered to question him, and then there was you. You had put your dreams on hold long enough to try and seem like the perfect daughter, but you were so tired of it. You wanted to run away and be the bad girl for once. You took a deep breath before you opened the door. You had to mentally prepare yourself for the dysfunctional family waiting inside. You saw your brother’s car in the driveway so there was hope that Lou was indeed inside. With him being Korean American, his family didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving so your brother normally invited him just so he wouldn’t have to stay home alone. He also enjoyed the chaos that was your family. You weren’t really sure why he did, but you were really happy when you walked in and saw him sitting on the couch with your brother watching football.

“Hey guys, y/n finally made it,” your brother, Sam, said.

“Now that everyone’s finally here we can start eating,” your mother yelled from the kitchen.

A few folding tables had been set up in the living room so everyone would have space to sit without having to hold their plates. Everyone slowly made their way through the line of food set up in the kitchen before settling down at the tables. Small talk was made. Of course, they asked if you had a boyfriend. You looked at Lou, who was staring at you intently, before sighing, “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m waiting on someone special.”

He smiled at you. You were really hoping he took the hint. He was the someone special you were waiting for. The questions continued. You didn’t know why everyone found your life so fascinating besides the fact you were the youngest and one of the few single people at the table. They didn’t care to ask your brother these questions though and they wouldn’t dare pry into Lou’s life like they did yours. They did, however, ask him if he was single. “Yes ma’am, I’m single. I have someone I’m interested in though. I’m just not really sure how to tell her.” He stared at you the entire time, though he was answering your annoying aunt. Wait, was he interested in you too? You hoped with all your being that he was.

After what felt like hours of interrogation, everyone finally settled in for a nice dinner, some football, and small talk. You noticed Lou got up to go to the bathroom, so while no one was paying attention, you slipped away and followed him. You went upstairs and knocked on the door. “One minute,” Lou replied. You waited for him to open the door, “Oh, hey, y/n.”

“Hey, Lou.”

“How are you enjoying your Thanksgiving?” “It’s the same as always. Apparently, my family thinks I’m a lesbian because I’m single, but what they don’t know is there is someone I really like.” “Oh really?”

“Yeah. He’s really cute and sweet and I really like him a lot, but I’m not sure he feels the same.”

“Well, you’re a really great person and anyone would be lucky to have you like them. I mean, I know if I was the guy you liked I would be ecstatic.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well….” you stood there for a minute before looking towards the ground and whispering, “you are the one I like.” You blushed. You’d never been one to confess to a guy before.

“I am?” he smiled. Like really smiled. It was beautiful and magical and just damn.

“Yes. I’ve liked you for a while now actually,” You lowered your voice, “I think about you a lot; about the things I would love for you to do to me.” You ran your hand down his arm with eyes full of lust.

“Mmm, baby, you don’t know how much I’ve imagined doing so much to you,” he replied, eyes darkening to match yours.

You dragged him to your old room. It still looked exactly the same, TVXQ, Big Bang, and Super Junior posters plastered the wall. Yes, you know you’re American, but you’ve been into Kpop roughly half your life and apparently your parents never cared to redecorate. You were pretty sure they just didn’t want to accept the fact that their precious daughter was almost 30 and was fully capable of taking care of herself and had been living on her own for years now. Oh well, at least they still left the bed there. Lou kissed you gently, but you weren’t looking for slow and gentle right now. This was something you had been looking forward to since the first day you met him. You needed him now, and you needed him bad. You deepened the kiss. “Lou, we don’t have time for slow and sweet. I need you now. I need you hard and fast and dirty. We can have time for slow love making later on.”

He took the hint. He locked the door and pushed you on the bed quickly stripping you of your pants and panties and running his fingers through your slit. “Oh, baby girl, you’re absolutely soaked for me and we haven’t even done anything yet.”

“I told you I’ve wanted you forever. This is what you do to me. Now fuck me please,” you pleaded.

He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to let his cock spring free. “Turn over. I want you from the back like the dirty little slut you are.” You turned over, and he slid inside your aching core. Fuck, the way he stretched you was amazing.

“Fuck, yes!”

He put his hand over your mouth as he continued to thrust into you hitting your gspot every time. “You have to be quiet, remember your family could come looking for us at any moment.”

“Choke me. It’s the only way I’ll keep quiet.”

He wrapped his hand around your throat and thrust into you hard a few more times. “Are you on the pill?” You nodded. “Good, Imma paint your insides with my seed.” As he thrust into you one more time you both came, your pussy convulsed around his cock milking him of that thick, white seed. You lay there for a minute feeling his cum seeping out of your pussy. He used his fingers to push it back inside of you. “I want you to hold my cum inside you for the rest of the time we’re here. Tonight, I’m going home with you. Let’s tell the family we’re dating.”

You just nodded. You could already feel yourself getting horny again. “Okay, let’s go give them something to talk about.”

You two walked downstairs holding hands. “You two were gone for a while,” your aunt said.

“Yeah, I know. We were talking. Guess what everyone. Lou and I are officially dating now,” you held your hands up and showed the family.

“Congrats!” everyone said. You weren’t sure but they may think this is a ploy for them to get off your ass, but you didn’t even care. You really liked Lou and wanted to be with him regardless of what others thought. You succeeded in making it through the rest of the day stuffed with Lou’s cum before you finally headed home.

“You ready babe?” you asked. He nodded and you guys headed out together. You were excited to see where this would take you.

To be continued…