#like to be completely honest even just a grocery list from her college years would probably tell us so much abt her

[fourfucksake]

online meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, stripping, masturbation

word count: 4.2k

p.s this workpiece is set in an alternative reality. this is a professor!chris one shot + i imagined y/n as a black girl, but i hope every single one of you lovely people will read!

Heaps of new policies bombarded universities since the spread of the virus. The amount of preparation and paperwork that had to be completed due to the newest conditions in the teaching system made everyone stressed to the maximum level. Perhaps, that’s why teachers communicated more during those challenging times; only those who work in the same environment can relate to your work frustrations. Individuals whom before appeared almost invisible where now your online buddies. It was quite incredible though.

Chris enjoyed the feeling of this community being available for him whenever he feels like expressing his irritations and or simply desires to moan about his dislikes. Before, he has never considered himself to be a whiner, but since everyone has been constantly moaning and pouting, he thought this is the right time to join the club.

Taking into consideration the current state of the world he was assured that everyone is a complainer right about now. He was okay with that though. No doubt, he didn’t know much about psychology, however, it seemed only logical to allow people to talk about how they feel. Also, it appeared plausible people felt scared, confused, or worried. Hey, these were very surreal times. There was no reason to make others feel bad about having emotions.

Of course, there was some resentment towards certain members of University since all the teaching went online. Sometimes, Chris felt like most of his colleagues gave rats ass about regulations and procedures that were now put in place. Instead of trying to provide the best learning experience possible, they restricted themselves to slamming all the work materials online for students to figure everything out on their own.

Personally, he found online teaching unbearable and exhausting. He hated it; there were no words to describe how much he despised it. At first it was alright; it was tolerable and doable. In a way, it was nice. Being at home, able to wake up later than early morning hours. Being with his dog and going on long walks wherever he wished. Being able to take his time with cooking, exercising, reading. All of those mentioned were exceedingly pleasant.

However, Chris chose to be a teacher. He loved spreading his knowledge around. Since an early age he would teach his younger brother; he was much help when it came to revising, essay or exam tips. This was his passion, he loved it. This pandemic undeniably took this away from him. However, there was still room to provide students with knowledge this way, and he tried extremely hard to do so in most effective ways.

For example, he did not have to orchestrate his own online meetings to be this long. Half an hour, that was a long time slot. This was planned completely on purpose. Ultimately, his desire was to provide students with the time to talk to him, express their concerns, and ask questions. Maybe he took this job way too seriously, he thought, and it wasn't needed. However, there’s always this teacher everyone likes, and Chris wanted to be precisely that guy. It wasn't some stupid ego thing, not at all. He genuinely wanted people to feel like he is there for them and wants them to succeed. Every single individual had an ability to be successful, some just needed an extra push too keep them on track. Although his own schooling experiences where genuinely pleasant, he knew he would benefit more from University experience if he had a teacher like him. Not to lick his own ass, he thought, of course.

After years of working in the schooling system no errors have ever occurred. Until last year, when the last class prior to pandemic began their college journey. Back then and there a problem has arisen – you. It was no one else than little Miss Perfect, the girl who made him look twice when she entered the room. Oh, how tiring and fatiguing crushing on you really was. Chris was always collected and focused while working, but with you in his classes he found himself distracted. Often losing his train of thought, his mind shifted to dark places when your class sat in front of him. Chris was a perfectionist, so this was, in fact, greatly infuriating for him.

He did not feel this way since high school. Back in the day he was not the coolest kid you could walk past in the corridor. Thankfully, he has never had his head shoved in the toilet, but not being bullied did not necessarily mean there’s a successful high school experience behind an average American. In his own opinion, he was just a normal kid that had nothing to show for back then.

Precisely that, being average, was now the reason behind this familiar feeling. A pretty girl, a popular girl causing vivid emotions to flush down himself. Looking at her while she does the most ordinary things was the reason behind the uncomfortable state in his pants. His hormones went ill around her, reminding him of how tough being a teenage boy with no control over his erections was. It felt so familiar, craving her this badly, almost as if he’s done it before. Maybe, in a way, he compared you to someone he crushed on for the whole duration of high school. A beautiful skin complexion, addictive smile and those big, shiny eyes staring at his soul; those qualities of yours highly reminded him of her.

Chris remembered that girl very well. He recalled being fascinated by her presence, by her strong personality, and hypnotic prettiness. Her name did not pop up in his mind for years. Until he met you. Chris had Pearl, Pearl Bennett, tattooed on his brain back then. Needless to say, it was embarrassing how annoyingly beautiful she was. Just like you. Now, he didn’t even know if she was alive, he hasn’t seen her for years. It never really bugged him then, it didn’t bug him now. It was just a pleasant memory that he was able to recollect because of you.

He wasn’t sure about your feelings towards him. Mr. Novak, his colleague, often commented on the way some students would look at him. Chris regularly heard Novak claiming that Evans could get any of “that young pussy” if he only snapped his fingers. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea. Maybe, he was just humble. Or stupid, possibly very stupid.  

The house was practically unoccupied now; his wife was dropping groceries off at her mum’s house and Dodger was nowhere to be found, most likely sleeping someplace in the house. Chris did not mind. In fact, he was relieved to have no other human being here. Since pandemic began his marriage decreased in its quality drastically. For quite some time existing relationship brought more annoyance than joy. He was not sure if it went both ways but noticing how regularly his wife exited their house in recent times it was healthy to assume the feeling was mutual.

How did he feel about his failed marriage? Weirdly, he was awfully okay with it. There was not a single part of him that cared enough to fight for this marriage any longer. Right now, all his thoughts were concentrated around another female. How she managed to look delicious without trying. How she smiled or laughed. How her faced twisted with grumpy expressions once she didn’t understand a certain concept of a lecture. Chris could go on, and on, and on.

It was not possible he could describe you in any other word than perfect. It was quite pathetic, he thought, it shouldn't be like that. Yes, you are a pretty girl and yes, no man can probably say no to you. There was just something about you, something so extraordinary that it took his breath away. What was this fascination? He wasn't sure. However, what he was positive about was that he enjoys looking at you. He enjoys listening to you. He enjoys thinking about you. He enjoys all those things way too much; he was aware of that. He was not ready to stop thinking about you just yet.

Now, sitting in front of his Mac, his eyes were focused on the screen. He wasn’t too up to date when it came to the modern technology, but he also wasn’t clueless to how to work a computer. Setting everything up, he glanced over at the previously printed list of names with time slots besides them. The list was not in alphabetical order, students had their half an hour available for the next eight hours of his life.

It would be a lie to say he was not thinking about you. He was looking forward to seeing your face, even if it’s only on the computer display. Your surname and student ID were somewhere halfway through the list. Naturally, he searched for your name straight away after the programme generated the list.

The ticking of the clock hanged on the nearby wall sounded out so clearly. Almost like a racing heart whenever one feels more strain than usual. He could feel the nervousness growing within him as the time passed. He almost felt bad for the kid who had his scheduled meeting right before you. Chris kept on stuttering, disconnecting, and asking for questions to be repeated. Unfortunately, there was no strength in him to think about the failed one-to-one since his brain was too concentrated on you. His favourite, little student.

His thought process was disrupted as a green dot appeared next to your surname, suggesting your online availability. Licking his lips and fixing his hair, his fingers position themselves on the mouse. One click and the signal began. Beep one, beep two, beep three.

“Hi, Mr. Evans!” Her bubbly voice caused Chris to smile. She waved and in response so did he. She seemed happy, her face expression indicated nothing but joy, he enjoyed it greatly. “Hi! How are you? How’s everything?” He asked with an honest curiosity, still smiling at his student. It’s been months since the last time they spoke without anyone else around. Of course, this was the first instance of them conversating in those settings, but he did not mind. Any type of physical interaction seemed impossible now and anytime soon. This was the best he could receive for a significant period for now.

Their faces didn’t shut for the first couple of minutes. Talking about the past months, Chris was quickly reminded of how smart and funny this girl infatuating really is. They seemed to be getting on well right from the first meeting. Weirdly, she had similar likes and dislikes as well as sense of humour. It was like talking to a long-term friend whom you haven’t seen in the longest time. He noticed her hair change, spotting the long knotless braids; in his opinion she looked completely stunning in this hairstyle. He was quick to comment on it and as a reply he was given a complement on his newest buzzcut.

Sadly, but still, he ended the chit chat to focus on discussing work material. Chris tried to stay on topic and somehow it was going well. For the next couple of minutes, he chatted about work. His hand travelled to the left side of his desk to glance at a list of things he wanted to mention, however, he got cut off by the voice emanating from the screen.

“Are those meetings being recorded, Mr. Evans?” She raised her eyebrows with interest spread across her face. Her back bent forward, causing her face to enlarge on his screen. “I mean like,” She continued and coughed. “Is anyone going to watch this later? Does anyone have access to this after we finish talking?” Her question expanded or rather multiplied, sounding out in Chris’ air pads. There was no denying he was conflicted about why she was asking this question. This was not his first online meeting and not a single individual showed any concern in this matter.

“Well, no, not really. If any of us wanted to report our meeting for any reason then I guess, um, I guess it is possible to reopen the video chat,” Slow nod was all he could do at this very moment. No doubt, he still was not able to understand the nature of her question. “If any of us found the other person’s behaviour concerning, rude or inappropriate then the IT services could recover this video chat.” He added in a robotic tone almost as if he were reading from the script.

“Would you want this meeting to get inappropriate, Sir?”

He chocked a little as his eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself across the face in response to his pathetic reaction. Shouldn’t the age gap mean something? Why was he behaving like he’s on her leash? Why was he this…nervous? Excited?

Assuredly, she should be the one who is intimidated, meanwhile it’s her making the first move. He wasn’t sure whether this simply comes from his politeness and gentles; obviously, momma Evans raised him to be a respectful man. It’s apparent, the fear of scaring you was blocking all his possible moves. Risk of being reported for improper behaviour in the workplace was also a worry of his, but it came nowhere near the terrifying theory of frightening you.

But here you were. Being indecent with him. And oh, how he loved it. How he enjoyed this single sentence leaving your pretty lips. Your remarks were more enjoyable and exciting than everything he has completed with the woman he married in the past year, if not longer.

Was he being delirious? Did your comment indicated what he thought it did? Possibility of his mind playing games on him was high. It’s so easy to assume things happened when you wish for them to happen.

“Do you want to make it inappropriate? Do you want me to be inappropriate with you, Sir?” A deep breath left his mouth and a shiver travelling down his spine followed. He was now sure; he did not misunderstand. This was not his imagination playing him, tricking him into believing there’s something here that does not exist. All of this was very real.

“Whatever you wanna be on this call — I’m happy with,” He managed to speak out loud, fixing himself on the chair. This was a bad idea, he thought once again, a horrible idea that could quite literally ruin his career. Was he going to stop? Prevent this from happening? No fucking way.

“Huh, you sure about that, Mr. Evans? I can get really filthy when I want. I am a naughty girl,” Your words hit him like a truck, and he couldn’t help the blood rush in his trousers. He licked his lips slowly and pressed his back onto the chair. He could say something, but he chose not to. Whatever you planned on doing suited him and there was not an ounce of interest in preventing you from doing so.

No further words were spoken. There was a moment of short silence that felt like forever. A moment for someone to back up, break this madness off. No one expressed a need nor a want to stop. She played with her nipples through her shirt before they journeyed up. The straps of her pale pink top slowly moved down her arm, his eyes patiently followed. To him, you were mesmerising. At this moment you had his whole attention.

Looking straight at him, her hands removed the top and carelessly dropped it on the floor. His eyes glued onto her as the soft material left her body completely. He tensed as his length twitched, reacting to her breasts and hard nipples. Her skin was complemented by the colour of a previously worn top but seeing her without it sent shivers down his spine.

Chris could feel the discomfort in his pants becoming unbearable, needing to expose himself immediately. With shame, but still, he slowly undid his zipper. For a while now the feeling downstairs was insufferable, pleading and begging to be uncovered by his hand. Chris gulped back the lump in his throat as he completely freed his member. The view on the screen made his dick ache, his length twitched, jumping again his tense stomach.

“Liking this?” She teased, firmly grabbing her breasts. His eyes darken when he took in all her naked presence. The way she touched herself, he wanted that too. He wanted to feel her nipples between his fingers. He ached to be close to her.

“I wanna see all of you,” His words escaped his mouth, hand firmly grabbing his cock. Without shame nor hesitation his member was stroked, slowly and decisively, as his back leaned on the chair comfortably.

She was quick to listen. So submissive, he though, hand still firmly hugging his man part. He observed as she stood up, taking a few steps back. Still looking at Chris, her body turned around in a circle. Her moves were slow, very captivating, making Chris feel like every single movement was in slow motion. He already adored her body.

Her hands roamed around her own body before she slipped her hand inside her shorts and panties. Subtle movements of her hands indicated she’s pleasuring herself right in front of him. By her expressions, he was able to conclude that she’s enjoying herself. She didn’t play with herself for too long. Pulling the defiant material down as her eyes travelled to his, she exposed herself completely. He felt his mouth dry at a sigh of her bare body. She gave him a sultry look, realising the power she now held over him.

“Is this how you like me, Mr. Evans?” She broke of the silence, still exposing her hot flesh. It took Chris a couple of second to even register the question, his imagination run too wild to focus now. “Do I like you naked? It’s certainly a more thought-provoking image than how I usually view you,” He teased, slightly raising the corner of his lips in a smug smile.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I love imagining it’s your cock fucking me instead of my dildo,” She said completely unprovoked, making Chris widen his eyes. They did something naughty, something filthy, yet this comment really threw him off. “I’m gonna show you how I play with myself when I think of you,” She added and waisted no time before sitting on the bed. Chris had to admit, he spotted the bed straight away when the call started. Picturing himself laying there, you next to him, he took some time imagining the wicked scene you two could create on that mattress.

“I will show you how much, how much I love picturing us together,” Her seductive voice reached Chris’ ears, his interest growing with every single second. There was this unexplainable fear within him at this very moment, fearing she is going to stop. He was helpless now, he needed her to entertain him long enough for him to reach satisfaction.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid, her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I want you to watch,” His student said firmly, staring right at him. The sound of a dildo followed. Chris’ breath was caught in his throat straight from the anticipation of the next step she’s going to undertake. With hunger, Chris watched as she teased herself, rubbing her clit. The toy fondly slid inside of her, resulting in her lewd sounds and Chris’ silent moan.

Her nipples were hard, her unoccupied hand coming up to fondle them both whilst her bottom lip was taken hostage by her teeth. She was really enjoying herself; Chris could tell. The bed made a squeaky noise every time she moved. The call was so clear, thank God, he was able to enjoy every motion of hers. The moans, whimpers and groans escaping her pretty lips as she fucked herself with a toy. The quality of the video chat was good, but not great. He wanted to see her in full HD, he wanted to see the details. For now, though, viewing this was enough. This was damn good, so good. Those desperate hand movements, stuffing the length as deep as she could, it drove him insane. Oh, how he wanted to stretch her out like no one did before.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned, squeezing his hard cock. He was conversating with you through moans, examining you as the vibrations caused tingles in your lower department. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew her pussy was throbbing and pulsing, desperate for more length to enter. His body parts were no different; his balls felt heavy and his dick was hard as a rock, begging for a dream release.

The heat began to grow within his body with each and every movements of hers. She kept him going, moaning his name, calling him daddy, reminding him who she’s pulling this show for. If only she had any idea what it did to him. A shaky hand wrapped around his length made rapid movements, fighting for his orgasm to arrive. Watching her, listening to her, it was magical. This craze he had within him, this fixation she caused – it was obsessive. A loud scream, her thighs closing on the pink toy and her eyes shut while she orgasmed was enough, it was everything.

The feeling of euphoria intensely swept through him as a creamy load exploded in his hand. She could not see it, but he knew she felt it. All that left his mouth was a silent “fuck” as he collected his breathe. Chris was in pieces, still processing previous events. It was now clear to him how he pleaded for that orgasm to happen, how he needed it. He was embarrassed to admit how strong, how intense, the load bursting onto his hand really was. Lucky for him, no one knew anything about it but him and himself.  

„You liked this little show of mine, daddy?” Her voice awakened his senses, causing his mouth to water once again. She caught him looking at his crotch, now surely convinced what happened. She removed the toy from her body, a silent whimper followed. She threw it away on the bed like it was nothing, like it did not help them both cum just minutes ago.

“So much baby, so much. Can you show me s’more? One more time,” He breathed, looking at her with lust. She obeyed, without hesitation; her body rose from the bed and did a slow, full 360 to demonstrate her delectable features. Maybe, he was delusional, but he was sure her juices travelled down her leg. If he were right next to her, his tongue would have taken care of that.

“See you in a seminar, right, Mr. Evans?” Her sweet voice rang in his ears followed by his quick nodding. He had a chance to see her collecting the missing wardrobe that she then put on right before him. Chris could not help but notice her shaky legs. She sat down in the exact same position as before. She reached for a cup, drinking, and sipping the liquid through a straw. Now, she was back to her regular self, looking innocent once again. It slightly woke him up, brought half of him to reality.

“Yes, Miss. I will see you there. Be good, huh?” Chris said casually or at least he tried to do so. He was caught by surprise, convinced that he’s going to slur over his words more. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, forming as much of an eye contact as possible through the processor. Her current thoughts seemed impenetrable to him, although he always thought he’s amazing at reading facial cues.

“Me and you both know - I won’t.”

The last words of his current interest sounded from his Mac. Sending him a flirty wink before pressing the right button, she terminated the call. The intense orgasm left his hand still somewhat shaking. Eyes focused on the screen, he looked like he was awaiting another glimpse of her to come back.

Chris’ ecstatic state wasn’t quick to falter. It took another couple of minutes for him to do anything. Literally, anything. He was already late for the next meeting, which he felt absolutely no remorse for. His eyes lowered to look at the mess he produced; his mind displeased as he had realised, he needs to move to clean it.

Once again, it was just him and his usual surroundings. The call was over, just like that, almost as if it never happened. Despite his deepest longing, he could not go back to what just happened, he could not relive it. Your moans and whimpers performed in his head like a favourite song one would put on replay without a hesitation. He was craving more, his fingers curled into fists as he felt his cock hardening again. He was not sure what his next moves in this matter will be, but he was more than sure he needed to be inside this beautiful body.

[parkmuse]

Not So Honest (M)

Word Count: 9322 (Reposted) (Wonhopes Masterlist)

Jungkook has got a pretty BIG problem, and he desperately asks you for your help.

cr.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! Dingdongdingdongdingdon-

You let out a heavy sigh, pausing your show as you get up from the couch to answer the door. That annoying repetitive doorbell rings could only come from one person.

“YAH! Where’s your fucking keys you brat-“ You stop mid-sentence from yelling at him because your eyes catch onto the large package he’s struggling to hold along with a mountain of grocery bags in his hands.

“Yeah, I forgot them this morning and remembered once I was at the store. By the way, this was at the doorstep-“ You immediately snatch it out of his grasp, twirling around as you let go of the door and let it slam back in his face. You run to the table, squealing as you set it down to try and go look for something to open it with. “My package arrived!”

You hear the front door rattle a few times before its shoved open again, him struggling to get all the bags in as he forces the door closed with a bang. “What the fuck Y/N? And I don’t even get a thank you for picking that up for you?”

“I didn’t ask for your help, Jungkook,” You replied, waving him off before you walked back over to your package.

You’ve been waiting a whole two weeks for another one of these Amazon packages. You did a little contract with some sellers there that you would test out their products for free and give your honest review in return that you get free samples of the items. So far you’ve gotten blenders, make up, wireless head phones, even a decent cellphone all for free. And all you had to do was type up a quick, honest review with the pros and cons of the product that took less than 5 minutes, then you could enjoy all your free shit. Did I say free already?

“What’s in the package? Another crappy phone?” Jungkook yells from the kitchen, placing all the food in their designated locations. You let out another heavy sigh before responding to him. “Why do you care? Go hangout with Jimin and suck each other’s dicks or something.”

“You’re just jealous cause I could probably get more dick or actually scratch that, any dick at all compared to you if I really wanted to.” You shot him a glare and he smirks, then sticks his tongue out before placing the milk in the fridge.

God, you hated that brat. You’ve hated him for so many years, basically all of your life since you’ve known each other since elementary. Your parents were great friends so you always had to hang out with him when you would go to each other’s houses, dealing with him pulling your hair and stealing all your food and toys from you almost three times a week. Once you hit high school you were even forced to baby sit him even though you were only two years older, but his parents baby him so much and think he’s not fit to stay alone in his own damn home that they’d throw him over at yours.

Even now, as two damn grown adults you are still stuck with him, forced to share an apartment since you two go to the same college because his parents don’t trust him alone or with strangers. It was a living nightmare since you basically had no privacy with this brat, always meddling in your stuff and your life and him walking out of his room practically naked every damn day. Sure, he’s grown up really well, and he’s always been cute I guess, but holy hell he gets on your nerves so much he’s lost the on chance that you would ever find him attractive. The only upside to this is that you get help paying rent, but honestly you think you’d rather live on the streets than be with this annoying kid.

At least your annoyance will be at its minimal today, too excited to let him cloud your day when you got more cool free shit-

“What the fuck?” You spit, eyes bugged and jaw dropped once you comprehend exactly what Amazon just sent to you.

“What? Another flip phone or some shit- woah,” Jungkook’s eyes widened as well once he peeks over your shoulder to see what the big deal was.

Sex toys.

Not one, not two.

A whole box full.

There were different kinds of toys like vibrators and silicone dicks in all the colors you could possibly imagine. You didn’t even know what half the shit in that box was either; there were weird looking eggs to obscure shaped things you assumed were supposed to replicate a dick but had an extended side that you couldn’t figure out what it was actually intended to do. You pulled out a box and on the cover read Sassy Anal Beads in fancy cursive lettering, finally making you lose your patience.

“Why the fuck would they send me this shit!?” You huffed, tossing the stuff back in the box. You had no use for any of this. Sure, they could keep you company since you were single as hell but you really wished they would have sent you something way more useful.

“Maybe they knew you needed it— OW!” Jungkook yelps as you punch him in the chest. He pouts as he clutches onto his pecs but you just roll your eyes.

“Shut up, you deserved it.” You walk back to the couch and plop on it with a sigh, resuming your TV show.

“Aren’t you supposed to review all this shit?” He says, digging through some more of the box as he pulls an unrealistic sized purple dildo.

“I’m not going to bother. I’ll just say they were all shitty or something,” You say as you bring your feet up to the coffee table.

“Well that’s not really fair. You have to give your honest opinion. What if King Cock Deluxe deserves five stars?” He snickers, waving it over in front of your face.

You scrunch your face in disgust, “Stop being gross.”

He laughs and tosses it back in the box, then pulls out another item. “What the hell is this thing?”

You see him examining it in his hands, his face scrunching up in confusion. It was small and black, a ring attached to the end and the top having two protruding bumps.

You’ve actually heard of that one before from one of your girl friends who was gushing all about it. It was a rabbit designed cock ring, the two ends from the top was actually a vibrator so when you had sex the “rabbit ears” would stimulate your clit. Your friend said although it looked really ugly it really did the trick, but her boyfriend never liked using it because it was way too tight on him.

“It’s a cock ring,” You said unamused, standing up to walk over to the kitchen.

“Cock ring?” Jungkook responded, still sounding confused as ever.

“Did I stutter?” You said, digging through the pantry.

“Does it make you feel really good or something?”

You turn back to face him so you can yell at him for asking so many questions, but stopped once you saw his face. He was still looking at the toy, examining it in his hand intensely.

A small smile crept on your lips, and you’re glad he was still too focused on the toy in his hands to see. “Yeah Jungkook, it makes you feel real good.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, but quickly replaces his surprise with a lazy smirk. “Yeah right, this free shit would never work.” He tosses the toy back into the box.

You snicker at his response. How has he never heard of a cock ring? Was he that inexperienced? Jungkook’s a grown man, but you’ve always seen him as the little brat next door. “I mean, I heard that got a lot of positive feedback for being one of the best sex toys out there. Men go crazy about it,” You chimed in, continuing to tease him.

“That piece of rubber? Bullshit.” He walks back into the kitchen, throwing some more groceries into the fridge. After a couple of minutes of silence and fixing up the kitchen, Jungkook speaks up again.

“I mean, what does it even do? How is it that good?”

“I don’t know, but must be pretty amazing.” You were getting kind of tired of your little white lie, and his constant repetitiveness of the topic was staring to annoy you. Before he was about to speak up again you interrupted him.

“Jungkook! I told you to buy some more damn cereal!” You whack him on the back of the head and he groans.

“I got most of the stuff on the list!” He pouts.

“You had one job kid, and now we got milk and no cereal.” You huff, walking over to grab your purse. “I always have to do things on my own around here. I’ll be back in a bit.” You grab your keys and walk out the door.

-

You finally made your way back home after being stuck in traffic for a good thirty minutes just for some cereal. Damn that Jeon kid for forgetting one measly thing.

You were starving since you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and you were too lazy to cook anything so why not just have some cereal? You walk to the kitchen to pull out a bowl, opening the box of Frosted Flakes and filling it up to the brim. You walk over to the fridge to grab the milk, opening the door. You were met with nothing but water bottles on the top shelf and some groceries at the bottom. Confused, you looked all over the sides and in the drawers. There was a whole carton before you left and now it disappeared!

Then it clicked in your head. Your eyebrows crinkled and you let out a heavy sigh, closing the fridge. “JUNGKOOK!”

That damn kid always brings the carton of milk into his room, sometimes drinking it straight out of the container. You hated sharing food with him for this very reason, and you should really get him to stop drinking that shit because he’s getting way too big for his own good.

You waited for a good minute just to give him mercy, but by now he should have answered you, walking out of his room with a yeah, yeah as he brings the carton back out.

But there was complete silence.

You groan, walking down the hall to where your bedrooms were. He better have a good ass explanation for why he hasn’t answered you by now. You twist the knob and roughly push the door open. “Where’s the fucking milk Jungkook?!”

You pause at the door, making eye contact with a seemingly alarmed Jungkook. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed faced away from you, shirtless again, head turned with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar. He looks like a deer in the headlights, his hand clutching onto the sheets crumpled beside him.

“You’re just sitting there doing nothing but didn’t bother answering me?” You thought it was a little weird, but quickly brushed it off.

“Um—well, I—“ Before he can give you an explanation, your eyes catch the item you were looking for at the night stand beside where he was sitting.

“There it is, I fucking knew it!” You strode over to the carton.

“NO! DON’T COME HERE!” He hollers, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“Whoa no need to yell, what’s on your dick?”

“N-NOTHING! Just…go to the store and get more! This is my milk!”

You could have sworn you felt a vein pop out of your temple at his remark. “I just came from the damn store! That’s a brand new carton! And my milk your ass I paid for that!”

You were seriously getting tired of him. When will you finally be able to get away from him? 5 years? 10 years? Are you really going to have to spend the rest of your life with this brat?

You don’t even know why you’re listening to him at the moment. You can do whatever you want, he can’t stop you. You continue to make a beeline to your milk, running past him to grab it and run out. Your feet catches onto his blanket, causing you to trip over and onto the floor in front of him with a loud thump.

You groan on the floor, pushing the sheet off of you and sitting up as you rub your head. You turn your head to look at a mortified Jungkook, completely colorless as he stares back at you in complete fear and embarrassment. Confused, you were about to ask what his problem was but your eyes flicked south.

A mere inches from your face was his dick in his hand, semi hard and just…all out there. What definitely made your jaw drop was that right at the base was a familiar looking object, black with bunny ears sticking out at the top.

You covered your mouth, embarrassed to have caught him in the act but also trying so hard not to laugh in front of his face because you cannot believe he’s actually doing this.

“Y/N, I-I can explain-“

You get up on your feet and grab the milk from the night stand, walking straight to the door avoiding eye contact with him. “No need to Kook, pretty self-explanatory. You have fun with that!”

You just wanted to get out of there as quick as possible before it could get even more awkward, but he calls out to you, making you stop.

“No wait! Don’t go! I-Um…”

“If you think I’m going to sit here and watch you jack off you have another thing coming-“

“NO! It’s not that! Why the fuck would I ask you that? I’m not some sicko.”

“Says the one with a bunny cock ring on his dick-”

“OKAY! You got me there,” He sighs. “But I was just curious! What was so good about this piece of plastic? And then I put it on a-and…”

“And what?” It probably didn’t feel good as he expected it to. Hell, it’s supposed to be the complete opposite.

“Well, it’s kind of…kind of stuck.”

A few seconds of silence pass as you comprehend what he just said, then you burst out laughing. He jumped in his seat, surprised by your reaction but then gives you a glare and a pout. “Why are you laughing?!”

You grab onto your sides, tears coming out of your eyes. You just can’t control yourself. This dumb kid has a sex toy stuck on him and he can’t get it off.

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just so…so hilarious. Wow.” You wipe the tears from your cheeks as the last bits of chuckles come spewing out.

“It’s not funny! It won’t come off…a-and it really hurts.”

You can hear the pain in his voice and for a second you actually felt bad for him. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much.

But then again, he deserves it.

“Well, seems like you got a real problem on your hands. I’ll leave ya to it.” You say as you start walking out the door.

“Y/N WAIT! You have to help me!”

You turn back to face him, your brows knitting in confusion. “And why do I have to do that?”

“Please Y/N, you know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t mean it.”

You stare at him for a moment, taking in his facial features. You were a couple of feet away from him but from there you could see the tears threatening to fall from his big doe eyes. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, probably to stop it from quivering in front of you. His broad shoulders visibly shook, and you sigh. He must really be in pain.

“Please, Noona.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his response. He hasn’t called you Noona for years. The last time he called you that was years ago, during a small phase where he was actually really sweet and nice to you. You actually loved that Jungkook back then, but then he went a full 180 on you and went back to being a brat.

You bite your lip, contemplating on what to do. He winces in pain and lets out a long drawn out whimper, which immediately shot to your core. What the fuck?

You don’t know what overcame you but you had the sudden urge to touch him.

What the hell were you thinking?

You just want to help him, that’s all.

You let out a heavy sigh, then placed the milk on the TV stand, proceeding to walk over to him. “Fine, let’s just get this over with. I don’t want your parents to blame me for not watching you and you coming home dickless.”

His eyes light up in admiration for you, excited to finally be free of this dumb torture-like pleasure free device. You stop in front of him, sitting on your knees as you push his legs apart to get a better look.

Surprisingly, Jungkook didn’t have a micro penis like you thought he had all these years. It was actually really, really generous, probably one of the biggest you’ve seen. No wonder this kid had a big ego.

“Alright, let’s see what we got.” As awkward as this was supposed to feel, it didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would. Why did it feel normal to be on your knees in front of Jungkook’s dick? You honestly didn’t want to think about why other than the fact that you’ve known him all your life and being naked in front of each other probably isn’t a big as a deal as you would imagine. You guys used to bathe naked all the time; that counts for something right?

“Wow Kook, you got it lodged pretty good. How the fuck did you get that all the way up there?” You stared at the small device, tightly clenching the base of his shaft.

“I-I thought it was supposed to hurt in the beginning, and then it would feel good later. That’s how sex is for girls, right?”

You snorted. “Does it look like you have a vagina, Jungkook? I mean maybe you will after your dick falls off-“

“Stop!” He whines, pouting at you. “Don’t say that! I would die without my dick.”

“That actually sounds like a good plan, maybe we should leave it then-“ He grabs your hands in his, squeezing them tightly as you were about to sit up again.

“Y/-Noona, please, please help me. I’ll be good to you from now on. I won’t be a brat anymore if you help me. Just…please.”

He softly caresses the back of your hand, looking at you again like a lost puppy.

Was Jungkook really being obedient right now? He seems like he would do anything for you, listened to anything you said. He seemed so…submissive.

You unintentionally licked your lips, but immediately came back to your senses. It was really getting hot in here and your hands were starting to sweat.

You ripped your hands away from him. “Okay, okay. Jeez.” You played it off like you weren’t phased by what he said and his sudden new name for you. You just needed to get this shit off of him and then you could finally eat. Starving yourself is definitely not good for your head.

You take in a deep breath, then reach for him. You didn’t want to bother addressing the elephant in the room, the surprisingly pretty big elephant in the room, because you didn’t want to make this even more awkward as it is. Asking if you could touch his dick would probably make this situation even worse, so you’re just gonna do what you need to do.

You grasp onto the base of his shaft where the toy is, tugging it forward in attempts to take it off.

“OW!” Jungkook yelps, grabbing your wrist. “You’re hurting me!”

“I barely even touched you brat, suck it up.” You whip your hand away from him, bringing it back to the toy.

He really got himself into a real mess here. There’s barely any space between the toy and his dick. Did he really think this wasn’t going to happen?

You attempt to pull at it again while your hand rested on his abdomen. You didn’t expect Jungkook’s abs to be so defined and rock solid under your fingertips, but you quickly brushed the thought away while you focused on the situation at hand.

When you pulled, the toy stayed put and your hand ended up grasping through the rest of his length to the tip, leaving you empty handed. You cupped the toy again, firmly pressing against his stomach while you pulled again, only to bring your hand against him again without the toy. You hear him whimper under your touch but again you don’t let it get to you, thinking he’s just being a little wuss about the pain again. After another attempt of tugging it off and your hand unintentionally grasping his length, you accidentally squeeze the end of his tip, feeling the warmth on your fingertips.

All of a sudden Jungkook lurches forward, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing tightly. His face is a few inches away from yours, his heavy pants tickling your face.

“Noona,” He chokes out.

You look up at him to see his adam’s apple bob, licking his partly chapped lips as he lets out open mouthed pants while his other hand clutches the bed sheet. You could see him breaking a sweat down his temple, looking so fucking hot for some strange reason but then something breaks your thoughts.

You feel a pulse under your touch, and you realize you’re still grasping his tip. You look down to see his dick erect, the tip partly red as you slowly feel the palm of your hand get wet. You slowly open your hand to see pre-cum leaking from his tip, some smeared along your hand.

You instantly get red, looking back up at Jungkook with the best glare you could muster up at the moment when in reality you’re freaking out and heating up inside. “What the fuck Jungkook!?”

You were about to stand up to leave when he grabs you again. “I-I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

“You’re gross!” You try to rip your hand away, but he keeps a firm grip.

“Y/N I’m sorry! Your hand just feels really, really soft…please, just help me get it off!” He pleads. “I’ll do anything Y/N. I promise!”

You look back at your hand covered in Jungkook’s residue, groaning at the sticky substance. You hate to admit that you loved the fact he got like that because of your hands, because of you touching him. You grab the blanket off the floor and wipe your hand, not wanting to think about it. You gulp once you face him again, his cock looking bigger than before and a bit more constricted against the toy.

You press your fingertips against the toy, attempting to twist it off of him. He whimpers, eyes shut tight as you can’t help but notice his stomach clench against your touch again.

“Noona, please...” He says again in what was like a husky whisper, sounding like he’s begging for you. The high pitched whine that came after striked right at your core, causing you to bite your lip. Your stomach was doing somersaults as you tried so heavily to focus on getting this damn toy off of him, but he was making this so, so hard. No pun intended.

You tried whatever you could, pushing it upwards and to the side and downwards, but none of it seemed to be working.

“I think we need to get some oil or something and maybe it’ll slip off,” You thought. “I’ll go get some in the kitchen.”

“You won’t find any,” He said hesitantly.

“What do you mean? I thought you just bought some?”

“I…was that on the list too?” He looks at your warily, biting his bottom lips as he slowly cowers away.

Your eyes turned to slits as your brows crinkled in distress again, letting out a long, slow sigh. “Well, I can’t think of anything else.”

“Why don’t you spit on it?” Your eyes bugged out while you looked at him like crazy woman. What did he just say?

“What?” You say, looking at him incredulously.

“Well, water isn’t going to work. We don’t have anything else and that’s all I could think of.”

“Do it yourself!” You yell, red as a tomato at what he just actually asked for you to do.

“I can’t! My hands are too big! Your hands are perfect and it’s easier if someone else does it. I’ll just hurt myself. Please, just do it it’ll work!” He pouts at you again, biting his bottom lip as he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. “You’re so gentle Noona. Help me,” He begs.

You know his words weren’t supposed to sound dirty in any way, but god why do you keep thinking like that?

Your empty stomach was messing with your head. Not only was your head throbbing, but you can’t ignore the ache between your legs either. You thought of just telling him to fuck off and leave him there to figure it out himself, but he speaks up again.

“It really hurts…I’m begging you Y/N,” He whimpers, whispering your name with a groan at the end. You notice his uneven breaths as his stomach vibrates, his veins protruding along his arms as he still clenches the sheets, the other hand holding onto his hard cock. He grasps himself, letting out a high pitched whine as he grits his teeth, seeing his eyes water yet again from his action.

You gulp at the sight of him before you, so helpless and vulnerable that causes your core throb even more.

You press your thighs together to ease the tension. You don’t know why such a helpless Jungkook was turning you on uncontrollably, and you’d love to see how much more he could beg and sob under your touch if he’d allow you to.

You shake your head, pulling yourself out of your crazy thoughts. This is getting really bad and you knew you had to get away from him quick. You needed this to be over as soon as possible.

“Fuck, okay! But we’re never fucking talking about this again. This never happened,” You say as you kneel in front of him again. You bring a hand to your face, spitting into it and smearing it along your palm. You cup the base of his shaft and glide your palm around the skin near the toy, trying to lubricate it as much as you can.

“It’s not enough Y/N, just spit directly on it,” He groans. You were going to yell at him for telling you what to do, but spared him once you saw his flushed and pained expression. You silently obeyed, sitting up so your face hovered over his dick. You collected enough saliva in your mouth and spit on the skin below the toy, letting the liquid slip down and over his cock. You bring your fingertips to massage the area, spreading your fluid as much as you can over him. Once you think it’s enough, you try pulling the toy again but it still didn’t budge.

“I-I think you still need to add more,” He pants.

“You think I got gallons worth Jungkook? That I’m a human sprinkler?” You spew.

“Well how about you just use your mouth?” He said nonchalantly.

You gaped at him, about to tell him off but then he cuts you off. “It would be easier! You wouldn’t have to keep spitting and have it dry up. You can get it all over and then it would pop right off!”

Your patience was really wearing thin with this kid. But then he grabs you by shoulders, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours.

“You’re my only hope Noona. You can only help me with this. I’ll do whatever you want after I promise.”

  “I swear I’ll be a good boy.”

  Good boy?

  Hearing that made the last strings of your sanity cut loose.

 Fuck it.

 You push him away by his chest abruptly, making him almost fall back on the bed. He caught himself before he could fall, hands flat against the bed. Before he could ask you what your problem was, you flatten your tongue along the base of his shaft.

“Y/N!” He moans aloud, bucking his hips up and into your face. You glide your tongue along his vein, swirling your tongue against his tip. You press an open mouthed kiss, then wrap the tip around the lips as you suck lightly.

“Oh fuck! Noona,” He rasps, trying so hard not to lose control and grab your hair to push you further into him. His moans egg you on and you tease his slit, earning another strangled moan of your name from him. Then you bring your mouth down onto his cock, taking him inch by inch.

You try your best to use your tongue, trying to wet every inch of his throbbing cock until you finally reach the base where the toy was. You hear him panting like he just ran a marathon above you, groaning as he watches your pretty lips around his thick member.

“Your mouth is so warm, it feels so good,” He groans, licking his lips before he gulps as he watches you intently. You stop your movements and look up to him, making direct eye contact. He looks at you in confusion, seeing the subtle glint in your eyes. Before he could say anything you swallow hard, causing him to thrash his head back and fist your hair.

“Fucking shit!” He moans, bucking his hips upward into you, causing the tip to hit the back of his throat. It hurt of course, but seeing the way he reacts to your ministrations was definitely worth it.

You pull your mouth off of him just until the tip, then bring him all into your mouth once again, sucking harshly.

“Holy fuck Y/N,” he moans, grasping the back of your head as you bob up and down his length.

“Keep fucking doing that.” You scratch his thighs, telling him that you’re the one in control instead of him before grazing your teeth slightly against his length. He whines in response, slightly nudging your hair back to stop you.

“Y-Y/N please…I’m sorry, just please keep going.” You release him with a pop, wiping the saliva from your chin as you look at him with a glare.

“Why are you telling me what to do? I thought you said you’d be a good boy?” You say as you slightly dig your nails into his massive thighs once again. “Or should I stop?”

“No! No please! Don’t stop I’ll be good I promise!” He whimpers at you, bringing his hand to your cheek to slowly caress your face.

“I’ll be good Noona.” You pretend to contemplate on your answer when you definitely weren’t going to leave him like this now, but you seem to think he’s had enough when you see his arm shake and his lips quiver.

“You better be.” You bring your mouth back to him, sinking your mouth down his hardened length as you take all of him again. You didn’t really think of Jungkook as the vocal type, but hearing him shamelessly moan and whimper your name aloud to the point the next door neighbors could hear heightened your ego tenfold.

You release him, bringing your hand up and down his shaft. You lift his dick so it’s against his stomach, about to run your tongue against him once again when you noticed something odd. A very thin line was visible on the cock ring, located on the bottom side of his dick. You bring your face closer to the line, looking at it curiously. Very small and slightly faint read the letters OPEN right above the line, in bold lettering.

Aha! You thought. Finally. Before you could bring your hand to the little slit, Jungkook calls out to you.

“Why did you stop? I’m being good Noona. Please, keep going.” He cries, and you swear it’s a tear that slips from his eyes and down his cheek than his sweat.

You lick your lips, looking back down at the toy then back at his cock.

He deserves this for being a brat all these years.

You look back up at him, giving him a sweet smile which felt seemingly odd to him. You never smiled like that at him. “Okay, since you’re being so good for me Kook,” You say sweetly.

“Why are you- fuck!” Jungkook groans when you take him all in one go, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You slightly gag, your mouth so full from his thick length but you push through it. You wanted to see this boy suffer.

You continue to go all out, hollowing your cheeks and deep throating him in the best ways possible, drowning in all his whines and cries of your name and how you were so fucking good.

“N-Noona, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“ You smile at his words.

Any second now.

At one particularly harsh suck he grabs your head, sinking you further down his cock as your mouth hits the toy. He moans at first but quickly cries in agony, fisting your hair harshly as you try to focus relaxing your throat.

“What…What the fuck…?” He whimpers, eyes squinting closed as he groans.

You release him with a pop, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “What’s wrong Kook?”

“I-There’s something wrong,” He says, grabbing his dick and wincing.

“Does it still hurt Jungkook? You want Noona to make you feel good?” You pull his hand away from him, grasping his length once again and pumping up and down slowly. He cries again, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements. “It fucking hurts Noona. What’s happening?” He sounded so lost, so helpless.

You never thought yourself to be a sadist but fuck, you loved it.

“Shh, Kookie,” You slowly rise to your feet, standing between his legs as you grab onto his shoulder. You bring a finger to his chin, lifting his head so he can look up to you. “Let Noona help you. I’ll make you feel real good.” With that, you pushed him harshly on the chest, causing him to fall back into the sheets. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts leaving you in your black lacy underwear, then turn back to him.

You lick your lips, staring at him sprawled on his bed looking so fucked out, completely naked. You climb up over him, bringing one leg over to straddle his waist.

“Y/N, what are you-“ You muffled him with a kiss, soft and sweet at first but slowly getting rougher to the touch as seconds go by. He moans when you bite his bottom lip, allowing you to delve your tongue into his hot cavern. His hands quickly find purchase on the soft flesh of your hips, holding you tightly. You suck on the tip of his tongue, earning you a groan.

You bring your mouth to his ear, nibbling his lobe before you whisper, “Just relax, Kook. And let Noona do all the work.”

You rise above him, your hands running along his arms as you meet his hands on your hips. You bring your hands to the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting it off of you and exposing your matching black lace bra.

“God damn,” he choked, eyes as wide as saucers as his mouth gaped at your beautiful figure. You chuckle at his response, then bring your hand down to your underwear. You rubbed yourself through the fabric, lightly moaning as you feel your juices seep through. You were definitely ready for him already. You use two fingers to hook your underwear, pushing it to the side while using your other hand to grab his dick.

He groans, watching your movements as you align yourself with his dick.

“Y/N, are you sure you- ahh!” His nails dig into your hips as you slowly sink onto him, your mouth slightly ajar as he fills you up perfectly.

His length and girth is the perfect size for you, filling you up to the brim as you settle perfectly onto his cock. You moan once your ass meets his thighs, sitting still as you adjust to the new found fullness.

Then, you move. You bring yourself off of him until just the tip is left, then sit back down with a slap. You moan at the sensation, but Jungkook is crying from your action.

“Holy f-fuck! Fuckkk,” He whimpers, chest heaving as you bring yourself up only to come down with another harsh slap. You continue these movements until you set a steady pace, bouncing on his length.

“Y/N! Oh my god, fuck, fuck Noona,” He writhes below you, looking like he’s about to lose his mind as he twists his head back and forth with his eyes tightly shut.

“You feel so fucking good, god, keep going please,” He whines, continuously licking his lips as his mouth constantly lets out a string of profanities and whimpers.

“Am I making you f-feel good, Kook? Ah, fuck,” You groan, speeding up your pace as the room fills with constant slap, slap, slaps.

“Yes yes yes, fuck yes, you’re so fucking good, I’m losing my mind,” He chokes, bringing one hand to squeeze your ass while the other tightly grasps onto your upper thigh. You continue going hard against him, him hitting you so deep and in just the right spots. Every time you drop down you feel something hitting against your flesh, then you look down.

You forgot the cock ring was still stuck on him, then realize it was the bunny ears. Memories of your friend saying how good the vibrator was rushed into your head, then you bring one of your hands to the toy. You press the switch on the toy, the low buzz sounds filling the room along with Jungkook’s whines. Once you sink down onto him again the product lands right on your clit, vibrating at an inhumane speed which causes your eyes to roll back.

“Oh my fucking god!” You scream, pausing your movements as you let the vibrator run against your bundle of nerves. You’ve never felt anything like it before.

You attempt to squeeze your thighs together, slowly rotating your hips instead as you let the vibrations of the toy work its magic against you. You moan aloud again, throwing your head back as the feeling of Jungkook’s cock so deep inside you along with the toys ministrations make your mind go hazy. All of a sudden you feel Jungkook’s hips lurch forward, pounding into you from below as he holds you by the hips to keep you still.

“Jungkook!” You scream, scratching his chest with his hands as he takes over.

“Y-You’re getting tighter on me, fuck, you feel so fucking good,” He moans, filling you to the brim each time as the toy continues to rub against your clit.

You can’t contain your voice now, moaning nonstop as Jungkook keeps ramming into you, the toy helping you reach your high quicker than you ever thought possible. After a few more strokes you come undone, moaning loudly as you tightly clench Jungkook’s dick. He lets out a deep groan, continuously thrusting into you as you ride out your high.

“Y/N, Y/N, fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna-“ Jungkook grabs onto your ass tightly, letting out a strangled moan. You watch as his head falls back into the bed, his stomach clenching tightly as he releases a choked sob. You felt his cock throb from within you, but no release. The side of your mouth twitches upward, but when you see his eyes fill with tears once again, him crying aloud, you finally actually start feeling bad.

You lift your hips, letting his hard cock slip out of you as you roll over beside him. You take a few seconds to catch your breath. You’re about to sit up to take the cock ring off of him but all of a sudden he rolls over to hover above you, spreading your legs open and pushing your panties to the side.

“Hey, what-“ He grabs his cock and roughly shoves himself into you again, causing you to throw your head back with a moan. He has his hands on either side of your head, then brings his mouth to your ears.

“You’re so fucking tight Noona, you feel so warm.” He grabs your hips as he starts pummeling into you, making your eyes roll back.

“You’re fucking hot as hell, you moaning my name and coming all over my cock,” He grunts, “You don’t know how many times I’ve came imagining what just happened. But why can’t I fucking come now?”

“J-Jungkook, stop,” You moan, trying to get him to stop so you can take the ring off of him. But he doesn’t let up, too focused on trying to reach his release as he fucks you harder, grunting and growling as he picks up his pace. The toy continues to buzz, occasionally rolling over your nub if Jungkook angles it the right way, causing you to yell out. He spreads your legs further, tossing one of your legs over his shoulder to reach into you deeper.

“That picture of you bouncing on my dick, fucking me, using me to make you feel good, I never imagined how fucking sexy you’d actually look. And the way you moan my name, fuck I’ll come just from thinking about that next time I touch myself,” He groans, reaching behind you to rip off your bra. His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking your breast as you grab his head to bring him closer. He laps your nub, licking up the valley of your breasts and brings his lips to yours.

You moan into his mouth, allowing him to ravage you some more. He brings both of your legs around his waist and you cross them, shoving himself into you faster. At this angle the toy is hitting directly on your clit each time he pounds into you, making you scream out his name as you clutch the bedsheets beside you.

“Jungkook!” You moan his name like a mantra, your release getting closer and closer. He continues kissing you, and after a few more deep strokes you come all over him again, squeezing him so hard he yells your name aloud, his cock throbbing uncontrollably as you clench tightly around him. His hands are holding your hips so tightly you know there’s going to be bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. You move your hips against him as you embrace the waves of pleasure, panting as you finally go limp. You’re about to slowly doze off from being so tired, wiping the sweat along your temple when you hear another choked sob. Jungkook pulls out of you, his dick still hard and swelled. The tip looks painfully red, the rest of his shaft looking constricted as he whimpers again.

“I-I fucking can’t,” He cries, his cheeks red and wet with tears of frustration as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Oh Kook,” You bite your lip. Maybe you really went too far.

You crawl over to him on his knees, carefully touching his length. He winces at your touch, whimpering as you lift it up. You press the button to turn off the vibrations, then use your fingernail to dig into the slit of the toy, pulling it forward as it pops open. He groans in relief as you slowly drag the toy off of him, tossing it to the side.

“And that’s what you get for being a brat all these years.” You say as you plop onto his bed, grabbing the sheets to cover yourself.

“What?” He looks at you confused, then his eyes widen.

“Wait…you fucking knew?”

You chuckle, “Of course, who doesn’t fucking know what a cock ring does? It stops you from coming, Kook.” You shuffle onto your side, getting ready to fall asleep.

“So you fucked with me this whole time?” He said in a low tone, venom laced in his voice.

“Fucked and fucked,” You said. “You’ve always fucked with me all these years. I was just making it even. Also we’re not telling anyone about this, okay?” You pointed back and forth from yourself to him, then plopped back onto the pillow.

Silence filled the room and you accepted it with open arms. You were just completely exhausted at this point, not having really expected such a good fuck from Jungkook. But hey, he made you feel good and you got your revenge, so it all works out. You were slowly slipping off into dreamland but all of a sudden the sheets are ripped off of you. Your legs were pulled downward, dragging your head off the pillow.

“What the fuck-“ Jungkook grabs your waist and flips you over onto your stomach, pushing your head down into the mattress while your ass is raised in the air. You attempt to turn around to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, but you cry as a hard slap echos in the room.

He smooths his rough palm against your right cheek where he spanked you, then brings his hand once again over the spot making you choke.

“You think this is a fucking joke? Making me lose my fucking mind, not letting me come three times?”

“Let go brat-“

Slap.

“The girl of my fucking dreams comes in here and sucks me off, fucks me twice, yet I couldn’t even fucking enjoy it cause I was in so much pain? You know how fucking horrible that is?” He grabs your underwear, tearing it in half as he lets it fall on the bedspread.

“Jungkook-ahh!” You moan once he brings his hand to your core, running his fingers along your slit.

“You call me a brat all the time, yell at me, yet I do everything for you,” He says as he lets a finger slip in, pumping into you as your wet juices fall down your thighs. “But you didn’t even let me come once.”

“Jungkook I can’t, not anymore,” You whimper, fisting the sheets as he plunges a second finger into you.

“Oh you can’t? But you came so many times Noona. Fuck, I even called you Noona cause I knew you secretly loved that,” He grunts. “I hate saying that. But I did it for you, to make you feel good Y/N.”

“Please,” You beg, trying to move away from his touch. But he doesn’t let up, continuing to touch you.

“I think you can go again. You never do anything for me, so you can do this. I haven’t even come yet,” He drags his fingers out of you, then leans forward so his dick sat against your cheeks and his chest leaned against your back. He brings his fingers to your lips, prodding them at your entrance. “Suck.”

You complied, opening your mouth as you lapped up your juices on him. You hear him groan behind you, slowly rubbing his length against your ass.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He leans back, pumping himself a few times before he aligns his tip at your entrance. You were going to attempt to stop him again but he pounds right into you, causing your face to fall flat onto the sheets.

He immediately starts off rough and fast, holding you by the hips as he drags you to him, fucking you onto him. You mewl, so sensitive from the last two rounds that you didn’t have the strength to do anything.

“Fuck, you’re still so fucking tight,” He groans, “God, I imagined fucking you so many times before, but I never thought it’d feel this good.”

“Jungkook…” You moan, slowly feeling the coiling in your stomach return.

“All these years Y/N, having to deal with seeing you in those short shorts, those low tops, fuck, you were such a fucking tease,” His thighs slap harder against your ass.

“Did I ever tell you I walked in on you changing once? I fucking ran to my room and jacked off that entire night to that image.” You moaned in response, thinking about the thought of Jungkook touching himself, pumping his shaft hard and fast as he thought of you, moaning your name as he came. And he was only a couple of feet away from you in the other room.

“But I never did anything about it, because you always treated me as the little brat next door,” He growled, flipping you over so you were on your back, then pushing himself right back in.

“Tell me Y/N, do you still think of me as a kid?” He grabbed one of your breasts, kneading it as he sucked on the other. “Would some brat make you feel this fucking good?”

You moaned in response, grabbing his hair as you tried to pull him closer to you. He sucked harder, pinching your nub between his fingers as he continued thrusting you at a harsh pace. He let you go, rising up to adjust you again, hooking his arms around your thighs as he fucked you into his mattress.

“Fuck, Jungkook! Oh my fucking god,” You moan aloud, slightly arching your back as he drilled into you, making your body slowly inch upward and closer to the bedframe. The hinges squeaked uncontrollably, the bed frame hitting against the wall each time he thrusted into you.

The angle was causing you to see stars, his length hitting you in your deepest and most pleasurable spot.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna-“

He immediately stops his movements, causing you to groan at the loss of your blissful release.

“Why the fuck did you stop!?” You yell, tears of frustration clouding your vision.

He smirks at you in return, leaning forward until his face is a mere inches from yours.

“I don’t think you deserve it. Why should I let you come again?” You try to move in response, but he still has his arms around your legs, keeping you in place.

“Please,” You beg, wanting nothing more than to just drown in euphoric feeling of letting go against him.

“How are you gonna make me?”

“I’ll do anything! I won’t call you brat anymore! Just please, let me come,” You whimper, bringing your hands to cup his face.

“Hmm…” He contemplates for a little while, then you whine another please before he chuckles.

“You’ll do anything?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be my girlfriend after this?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops, not expecting that request at all. You thought he’d want you to suck his dick again, which you wouldn’t mind. But girlfriend?

He grabs your hand into his, then slowly caresses his face into your touch. He turns his face to kiss the inside of your palm, then each of your fingertips.

“I’ve loved you since I was 7. You’re the only girl for me, and we’re practically going to be together for the rest of our lives cause of our parents. My parents don’t want me to be with anyone else either, so we already have their blessing.” He smiles at your speechless face, then brings himself forward to give you a kiss on the nose.

Butterflies fill your stomach, and you feel like you can’t breathe for a moment. This brat has been with you for so long you never realized you actually loved him too, and you wouldn’t know what you would do without him.

“So do I take that as a yes?” He says, peppering sweet kissing along your jawline.

You bite your lips, but slowly your mouth curves into a smile. “You’re such a greaseball.”

He chuckles, bringing his lips to yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, melting into his kiss.

“Okay not to ruin the moment but I’m kind of fucking dying here and I feel like my dick is going to fall off,” He groans, feeling him still hard within you.

You giggle, giving him one last kiss on the lips before moving away from him. “Where do you want to come?”

“Fuck,” He grunts, licking his lips as he contemplates.

“I want to come inside you.” You nod at his response, “That’s fine, I’m on the pill. And how do you want me?”

“On top.” You nod again, smiling at him as you lift yourself up, changing positions with him. He falls back on the sheets and groans while he watches you straddle him, lining his cock with your soaking entrance. Once again you sink onto him, allowing him to fill you up to the brim. Both of you sigh in content, him kneading your breasts and you holding onto his chest.

You quickly start bouncing on him, wanting him to have his relief as quickly as possible. He groans as your ass slaps against his thighs harshly every time you come down, eyes closed shut as his mouth hangs open. You clench against him, trying to milk him out for his release, and he moans your name louder. You feeling the throbbing occur and you know he’s close. You were so focused on trying to get him off that you didn’t realize Jungkook reached for the toy again, turning the power on as the slight buzzing filled the room. Your eyes pop open and you cry aloud once he presses the vibrator part of the cock ring against your clit, making you writhe above him.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, Jungkook, fuck,” You mewl, moving faster against him as he keeps the toy against your bundle of nerves.

“Come on Y/N, come for me babe. Come all over my cock,” He grunts, and after a few more seconds of the toy against you you let go, lurching forward as you throw your head against Jungkook’s chest, crying his name aloud. He grabs onto your hips and plants his feet flat on the bed, fucking you through your high, and after another half dozen strokes he chokes your name out, coming inside of you in long, hot spurts. Jungkook’s warmth felt nice inside you, and you continued moving as best you could until he finished, groaning as he slowly went limp inside of you.

Both of you were panting and you could feel his rapid heartbeat slow against your cheek. He brings a hand to brush through your hair, bringing a blanket to cover the both of you before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I love you Y/N,” He said, kissing your temple.

“And I love sex toys now even though it hurt like a bitch, but at least it brought us together.” You slap his chest, causing him to let out a chuckle. “We should give it a 5 star review. The toy sucked ass for me but it also brought me this beautiful ass,” He said as he squeezed one of your cheeks. “Pretty great if you ask me.”

“You’re still dumb and a brat,” You said as you rested your chin on his firm chest, staring up at him. You leaned forward to kiss his bottom lip, right where his mole was that you always secretly adored.  

“But honestly, I love you too.”

[mlovesstories]

His Thoughts on Therapy Part 1

Summary: Dean is forced to go to therapy.  He doesn’t want to, but he ends up meeting a friend.  

Warnings: Dean being emotional because of the fire, therapy, car issues, cussing

Words: 2600

Dean x reader!platonic

Sam x reader!platonic 

Dean x therapist!Dr. Sky

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Go.” Sam growled. “Or I’ll take you there myself!” 

Dean has made a bet of sorts with Sam. If his drinking became more frequent, Sam was going to be in charge of buying the beer and Dean would have to go to a therapist. They had experienced a lot, and they both knew that. Sam could see Dean fading, so he laid down the law, and Dean was not cooperating. 

“I’ll pour all the beer down the drain right now if you don’t go to your appointment. It’s in twenty minutes.” He was toward the fridge. 

“OKAY!” Dean stood up quickly and grabbed his keys. “Don’t touch what beer I have left.” He groaned. 

“Bye!” Sam sighed, happy he won the argument.

Dean went to his therapist for a few sessions.  He was very saddened when he saw that she was older than him and not his type.  Dean did not want to be there, and it showed.  He liked her, but he was not the ‘spill his guts’ type of person.  His therapist made an off comment about her mom passing, and Dean’s heart dropped.  

“My mom is gone too,” he said sadly. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean.” She frowned. 

“Yeah, it was a while ago.  It’s fine.” 

“You’re really good at not really dealing with anything, are you?” The doctor said seriously. 

“What gave it away? My sarcasm, deflection, or self-preservation?” He grinned. “Look, doc,” Dean sighed. “My mom died when I was four.  My dad told me to get Sam, so I got my brother out before the fire engulfed the stairs.  Dad was fine, but my mom didn’t come out of the house with him.” 

“Wow,” the doctor said, almost judgingly.  

“What? My story not good enough for you? I got more if you-” Dean raised his voice in defense.  

“No, Dean,” she put a hand up asking him to calm down.  “What I meant was that just from that one story you’ve told me, it tells me a lot about you.” 

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

“Like what?” 

“You grew up a lot that night.  I’d put my money on you as the protector and preserver of the family.  You probably blame your dad for your mom’s death in a way.” 

“Woah, my dad-” 

“I’m sorry.  That was very forward of me.” She frowned again.  

“I was in charge of Sammy, and he was supposed to get Mom.  He didn’t.  End of story.” 

“Mhmm.” Doctor Sky eyed him.  

“Okay, I’m done,” Dean stood and put the pillows back where they were placed at the beginning of the session.  “I’m done with you psychoanalyzing me.” He stormed out.  She didn’t chase after him.  The oldest Winchester walked down the steps to the parking lot.  Sitting in the Impala, Dean froze, not understanding his emotions.  All of a sudden, he realized he had hiccups.  

Why am I crying? I don’t cry!

But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean covered his face with his hands and sobbed. 

YN was late for her appointment.  She quickly walked from her car and ran up the stairs to the door she needed to enter.  An hour later, she noticed a car in the same spot that it was in when she had arrived.  Dean sat blankly in Baby, not seeing YN approaching.  She saw tear stains on his face and his eyes puffy.  

“Here,” she said, her hand extended with tissues, offering them to him.  Dean jumped. “Sorry.  Thought you could use them is all. Have a good day.” YN walked toward her car when he heard him call for her.  “Yeah?” 

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” 

Dean was surprised by the interaction.  No questions about why he was acting the way he was.  He appreciated it since he was, once again, not a ‘spill-the beans’ type of a person.  

The next time he saw his therapist, he apologized for his actions.  Dean himself was surprised he even went back, but he knew he needed to or Sam would not buy him any drinks.  

“Let’s talk about something else today. Other than your mom, how was it growing up? Are you and your little brother still close?” 

“Sammy and I live together.  He’s a lawyer, I’m a mechanic.  I can’t afford a house, so he lets me rent a room.  He’s taller, but I’m cooler,” Dean laughed, and so did the doctor.  “Growing up, my dad was gone a lot.  He had to run the shop pretty much by himself.  I had to take care of Sammy.” 

“You’re still very connected with him, that’s very nice to hear.  A lot of clients don’t have healthy family relationships if I’m being honest.” 

“We’re all we got, I guess.” 

“Do you get along with your father? Does he still run the shop?” 

Dean winced.  

“Am I missing something?” She asked, sincere. 

“He passed away a few years ago.  A car was on the lift, one of the arms broke.  He pushed me out of the way.  He didn’t make it.” 

“Wow, Dean.  That’s a lot.” 

“Yeah.  My brother has dealt with it better than I have.  He exercises regularly, I... “ he stopped himself.  “I don’t make healthy choices.” Dean laughed.  “I drink sometimes. Sammy said if I continued, I needed to see a therapist.  So, here I am.” Dean looked up from his fingers nervously running over a couch pillow placed on his lap.  

“Good for you.”

“Huh?” He was confused. 

“For seeking help.  You’ve been through a lot, Dean.  I have something I want you to try.  Can you draw?” 

“I used to draw my own comics as a kid.” 

“Perfect.  Here,” his therapist reached in her drawer and pulled out a sketch pad.  “Use this.  In two weeks, I want you have completed a scenario from your own life where you were hurt.  But remember that you’re the comic book hero in this.” 

Dean’s face dropped.  

“If you want me to read it, I will.  If not, that’s okay too.” 

 Dean relaxed.  

“Okay,” he followed her lead as she stood and led him to the door.  

“Great.  You did wonderful today, and I’m so happy to have you as a client, Dean.  Have a wonderful day.” 

Dean passed someone on the steps as he walked down to his car.  He heard sniffles.  Dean turned and found the girl he had seen previously.  

“Hey, tissues.” he smirked at his nickname for her.  She startled and looked at him.  “You okay, kid?” He saw bruises on her arm.  When she realized they were noticeable, she adjusted her sleeve.  

“Yeah, just got robbed.  I’m okay,” she shrugged, trying to keep the tears away.  

“Shit, kid.  Let me see,” Dean walked toward her, but she recoiled.  Forgetting how large he was compared to her, he didn’t realize how he came across.  He put his hands up.  “Just trying to repay the favor from the other day.  Promise I’m not here to hurt you.” Dean slowly sat down on the steps next to her.  He was surprised at her openness and trust level.  YN pulled her sleeves up to her elbows.  She had a few scrapes, but she looked to be okay.  “Looks like you need some tissues this time,” Dean grinned.  She smiled.  “I’m Dean.” 

“YN.”

“Are you here with your parents or someone who can help you?” 

“I don’t have anybody in this town.  Going to college here for the first semester.”

“Eighteen?”

“Twenty.  Transferred from a junior college.” She looked at her phone.  “Shit.  I”m late for my session.  Thanks, Dean.  See you around.” 

“Bye, Tissues.” Dean grinned. 

“Whatever, asshole,” she retorted, returning his expression.  

Dean kept thinking about his interactions with YN.  He felt bad for her that she was so young and on her own.  Obviously smart and cared for her mental health, but he somehow felt protective of her.  

“Kid?” Dean saw her in the grocery store. She turned.  

“Hi Dean.  How are you?” 

“I’m good.  Uh.  This is my brother, Sam.” 

“Hi,” Sam extended his hand and shook hers. 

“Damn, they make you guys big.” YN giggled.  “You from Texas or something?” 

“Nah, right here,” Dean laughed.  “Hey, you doing better today?” He leaned in closer so that others wouldn’t hear. 

“Much, thanks.” 

“Here, take my number, and you can call us if you need anything.” He ripped off part of his grocery list and wrote his cell phone number on it.

“Are you sure?” YN gasped at his sweetness. 

“Sure,” he shrugged. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.  “I need to go, but thanks, boys.  I appreciate it, really.” 

“Not a problem,” Sam said.  “I’m hungry, let’s go, dude.” 

“So what was that about? You don’t just hand your number out to people these days.” Sam looked up at his brother that evening at dinner.  

“Nothing.  She’s a kid and she needs help sometimes just like we all do.  She told me outside the therapy office that she doesn’t have anyone here because she’s going to KU, not from here.  YN is down on her luck, that’s all.” 

“You’re not asking her-” 

“Eww! No.  Gross.” 

“Okay, okay,” Sam leaned back.  “Just trying to understand.  

“She was black and blue the other day, Sammy.  You would have done the same thing.” 

“Whatever, dude.”

A few days later, Dean heard his phone go off in the middle of the night. 

“What?” He groaned, sleepy. 

“Dean, it’s YN… from therapy.” 

His eyes widened and his senses were alert.

“What’s wrong?” Dean immediately sat up in bed, concerned.  

“I got stuck in the road.  I heard you were a mechanic? Do you happen to have a tow truck? My starter is shot because of the storm and mud or whatever.  I’ll pay you for it, but can you help me?” 

Dean heard the waver in her voice.

“Where are you?” 

She told him the cross streets, and he told her he would be there in fifteen minutes.  

“You’re on the side of the road, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Stay in your car, you don’t need to be stranded AND wet from the storm.  You’ll be okay.  I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, Dean.” 

When she saw a large truck getting closer, she flashed her head lights and tail lights at him.  Dean pulled in front of her car.  Getting out, he motioned for her to get into his vehicle. 

“The heat is on, stay warm! There are blankets in the back.  I’m going to put your front tires on the back of my truck and then we can go.  Just give me a few!” Dean shouted over the rain pouring.

“Okay!” YN ran to get into the warm vehicle.  She looked over her shoulder and saw flannel blankets on the floorboard.  

Ten minutes later, Dean came inside.  Soaked from the storm, he tried to warm up by putting his sleeves next to the vents.  

“Here,” YN grabbed an extra blanket.  She motioned for him to lean his head toward her.  YN ran the blanket through his hair to get the excess water off.  “Take your shirt off, it’s sopping wet.” 

“I’m okay.” He smiled, thanking her for thinking of him.  

“You’ll catch a cold, it’s fine.” She waited until he complied.  “Wrap this around you,” YN offered him the blanket.  

“Thanks,” he sighed.  “Let’s get you home.” 

After agreeing that he would take her car to the shop in the morning, he told her good night.  

“Tissues!” He yelled through the noise of the storm.  She turned. “I’ll give you an update tomorrow.  Don’t worry about it, okay? Go dry off!” 

“Okay!” YN hurried into her apartment before stripping off her clothes and blow drying her hair.  Retrieving her pajamas from the dryer, she settled in for the night.  

Thank God for that Winchester guy. 

“Hi Dean,” YN answered the phone the next evening.  

“Hey Tissues!  Your car is at the shop.  We’ve got a starter for you.  You’ll have it back tomorrow.” 

“Oh, that’s awesome.  How much do I owe you?”

“It’s usually one hundred, but it was an easy job, so don’t worry about it.” 

“You came and got me at 2am, brought me home, and then fixed my car.  AND YOU DON’T WANT ANYTHING FOR IT?” 

“How about you buy me and the guys two pizzas? ‘That fair?” 

“Oh my gosh.  Dean, yes.  Thank you!” YN squealed into the phone.  

“I’ll call you when it’s done, okay?” 

“Thanks, Dean!” 

Dean checked on her every few weeks after that.  Dean tried harder in therapy, realizing the value of it as he attended more sessions.  

“YN told me what you did for her.  How did that make you feel?”

“Good, I guess.  She needed some help, and I could help her.  She doesn’t think I’m a creep or something, right? I could be her dad, I was just trying to be nice.” Dean sputtered out.  

“I think it’s fine, Dean.” The doctor laughed.  “What I mean is that you gave of yourself when you didn’t have to.” 

“I guess.” 

Dean texted YN that night and asked if she needed anything.  

YN: Nope, thanks, Winchester. 

Dean: No problem, T. 

YN: When are you going to stop with the ‘Tissues’ thing?

Dean: You don’t like it?

YN: Dork. 

Dean: Whatever.  

“I’m not going! I don’t feel good!” 

“You’re not sick. So help me, I will dump that whole six pack down the drain if you don’t go to therapy today!” Sam chased after his brother. 

“I’m- she makes me think, and I don’t like it!”

Sam chuckled. 

“That’s her job, asshole.” 

“Shut up. Fine. I’m going. You better not touch my beer.” 

“Hi, Dean.” YN passed him after her session with their therapist.  “How are you?” 

“Not today, kid.” He ran past her and let the door slam as he entered the suite.  

“Damn.  Whatever, Winchester.” 

“What’s going on today, Dean?” His therapist got comfortable in her chair.  

“I’m fine,” he shrugged.  

“Is that why everything you’ve done while in my office has included sudden movements? And maybe the reason you sound like an elephant stomping around?” She raised a brow.  

“Doc, I don’t want to be here, okay?” 

“You’re only here because of Sam, yeah, I got that. What’s going on? No therapy talk, just a conversation.”

I don’t know.  Okay?  I’ve been a mess since I’ve been coming to see you, and I don’t know why.  I also don’t like it.” 

“Ah. So then why are you still here? Other than your brother making you? There has to be something else.” Doctor Sky at him squarely.  

“I’ve never felt like this before.  I’m an emotional mess and yet it feels good…? Is that weird?” Dean readjusted his sitting position on the office couch.  

“That makes perfect sense.  You’re exploring parts of your life that you haven’t in a long time, Dean.  It feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?” 

“Odd, I think is a better word for it.” Dean huffed.  “I hate being here, but I feel better about everything too.” 

“That’s not at all a surprise to me, Dean.” She pulled out a pen and wrote a note to herself.  :THat shows growth.  I think you’ve grown.”

“I guess.” 

“Did you write in your comic book?” 

“Oh.  Yeah.” Dean pulled it out from his large back pocket.  He tried to hand it to her. Before reaching for it, she tilted her head. 

“I gave you the option of not sharing it with me. Are you sure you want to?” 

He extended it further.  

“Did you enjoy putting your comic together?” His therapist flipped through a few pages and then looked up at him.  

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it was fun, but I would rather do that than write it out.” Dean shrugged.  

“Noted.  So I see in here you depicted the fire.”

“And the time I had to take Sammy to the emergency room on my bike because he broke his arm,” he grinned at the memory.  

“Oh my.” Dr. Sky smiled.  “Sounds like a story for another time.  Please keep using this, I think it will be beneficial to you.  When you need a new one, let me know.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I’m very proud of you for sticking this out.  I think we should talk about some coping skills for you.” 

“Come on, doc.” Dean adjusted his jacket on his shoulders, showing his uncomfortableness.  

“You’re showing new emotions, you need to know what to do with them, don’t you think?” His therapist put her notebook to the side.  

“Do you enjoy physical activity, sports, watching TV?” 

“All of the above.” 

“When you start to feel out of control, use one of those.  It’s good to feel emotions, and it’s healthy, but don’t let your mind stay there.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“You’re doing great, Dean.  Keep up the good work.”

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural  @unicornblood4ever  @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x  @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl  @super100012  

 @percywinchester27  @waywardsuns  @supernatural-jackles  

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09  @kingandrear  @bellero @skylarraker

@seality​​​​​ @jaycc7983​​​ @luci-in-trenchcoats​​​ 

@cherryblossomflowers​​ @because-you-never-know-when​ 

@sleepylunarwolf​ @choosemyname​ 

@internationalmusicteacher​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ 

@encounterthepast​  @torn-and-frayed​ 

@giggles1026​ @xiumin-girl99​ 

@mangueweaschester​

@idksupernatural​  @silverstripe101a​

@thevelvetseries​ @jennawinchester152a​ * @samsgirl93​   @supernatural3002​ *

* @breereadsthings​ * 

@a-magey​ @vicmc624​ @hookedinto-fictionalworlds​   @beatifuldisaster018​

@miraclesoflove​ @myopiamystical​ @fallen-wolf22​

@waywardnewcomer​  

@marvelouslysherlockedhunter @miss-nerd95​  @akshi8278​  

[theotpauthor]

Hi! This is my gift for @kbaycolt for the @tma-valentines-exchange this year! You requested JonSasha and I hope you like it! 

“Jon!” a voice called, making him startle. He put down the can of soup he had been looking at and glanced down the aisle.

“I didn’t know you went to this grocery store,” his boss, Sasha, said happily. She was tugging along one of those hand held baskets, packed with some fruits and veggies.

“It’s the closest to my apartment,” Jon replied, “so it’s convenient. I thought you lived further out though?”

“I do,” she admitted easily, “but the produce section in my normal grocers is complete garbage. Half of the time they’re only a couple days from rotting.”

“Unpleasant.”

“Indeed. Especially after that last batch of statements. But while you’re here—would you mind staying after hours tomorrow? I have a non-work related favor to ask, but it’ll take a bit of time to explain and we both look a bit busy at the moment.”

“Ah—” If it was anyone else Jon would have said no easily, or at least fumbled his way through an excuse, but this was his boss, and (though she hadn’t meant any cruelty by it) one of their first conversations had been her laying out, quite explicitly, his complete lack of credentials for his job. That was six months ago, and they had both grown closer as a unit in the archives, but he still felt an underlying need to prove that he was worthy of his job. He desperately wanted her to think he was competent, and refusing to help her was just another way of saying he wasn’t capable of doing so. “Of course.”

“Thank you!” Sasha said with a grin. “I know this is a little out of nowhere, but it’s nothing too bad, I promise. I’ve gotta run now, but I’ll see you on Monday!”

. . . o0o . . .

“You wanted to see me?” Jon said, peering into Sasha’s office. He tapped his fingers together at his side and hope she didn’t notice; he still wasn’t sure what the issue was and his nerves had steadily increased since their meeting at the supermarket.

“Ah, yes,” Sasha nodded. “Here, come in, sit down.” He did. “Well, easiest to tear the bandaid off quickly I suppose. Will you pretend to date me so Tim gives up on me?”

This was—not what Jon had been expecting. He hadn’t really had set expectations in the first place, besides something probably professional, and this was far from that.

“Has Tim been . . . making you uncomfortable?” Jon asked, eyebrows crinkled in confusion and a hint of worry, but Sasha was shaking her head before he got the chance to finish.

“Oh no, nothing like that. Tim is a good guy. He’s just . . . the type to hold out hope, you know? We had a brief fling and he keeps trying to make it more. And the only way to get him to move on genuinely instead of pretending is to convince him that there’s no use waiting for me to change my mind.”

“Huh,” Jon said speculatively. “He hadn’t struck me as particularly romantic. At least, not in that way.”

“So, will you do it?”

Jon hesitated. He remembered working with Tim before, and though Jon had acted as prickly as ever, it had never seemed to bother him. They hadn’t quite gotten to a level that Jon would call friends, but they had been getting there before Jon’s transfer to Archives.

“Won’t this hurt him? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’re actually in a relationship?”

“Ideally, but I don’t want him to be pining over me for who knows how long before I find my person. He’s my friend, and I don’t want him to miss out on someone because he was too busy wanting something that will never happen.”

“. . . And as for hurting him?”

“A necessary evil.” Sasha pursed her lips. She had known Jon and Tim were friends, but she hadn’t been sure how deep the bond had been on Jon’s end. She still wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt her scheme. “Look, I don’t like it either. But he’s going to get hurt at some point, and I’d rather have it be short and—well, not sweet really—than long and drawn out. This’ll be better in the long run.” She stared at Jon, and wiped her hands nervously on her pants. “Will you do it? I know this might be a bit weird since I’m your boss but—”

“I—no, I’ll—I’ll do it. But we’re going to need to work out the logistics. I mean, Tim knows both of us. We can’t just be dating out of nowhere.”

Sasha grinned, relief flooding over her. Her teeth shone.

“I’ve already made a plan. You could come over my place so we could talk about it? Figured it’d be better to discuss it here than in a more public place.”

. . .

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Jon said, blinking slightly. In front of him were various papers, all tacked up onto a corkscrew board, describing different versions of how they could have started dating, their various dates, and more. It might have been creepy, except for the fact that Sasha was a constant overplanner, and he was somewhat surprised she hadn’t simply told him a backstory she had created.

“I was trying to find something realistic that still wouldn’t hurt Tim too badly,” Sasha admitted, chewing on her lip as she glanced over the various papers. Jon noticed for the first time that her concealer had slipped, and she had bags under her eyes.

“Are his feelings that strong?”

“It’s not that they’re strong,” Sasha said slowly, trying to think of how to say it. “It’s that they’re constant. Tim acts flippant but once he cares about people, it’s very hard for him to stop.”

That hadn’t been the impression that Jon had gotten, but Jon had only known him for a couple months before his transfer, and Sasha had known him since university, so he was willing to assume she knew better in this case.

“That aside,” Sasha said, “I say we figure out the most awkward part first and get it out of the way. When did we first have sex?”

“We didn’t,” Jon said dryly. “I’m asexual, and not particularly prone to PDA either.”

Sasha paused for a moment, readjusting her plans with the new information.

“Well, we still need to act comfortable around each other. We don’t need to go making out in back corners of a club or anything, but couples usually have an ease around each other.” She smiled over at him, teasing. “Unless hand holding is too scandalous?”

“Haha,” Jon rolled his eyes. “No, that’s—fine. I know I’m agreeing to this, but I just didn’t want you to think that—er, that is, I—”

“Jon,” Sasha cut in gently. She thought of placing her hand on his knee before thinking better of it. “Even if we were dating, no string attached, I would never make you do something you didn’t want to. Sure, I like hooking up with people, but in the list of things I couldn’t live without, sex doesn’t even reach the top twenty.”

“Oh.” Jon’s face went pink. He coughed. “Ah, well, right then. Glad that’s sorted.”

“Yes, though we definitely need to discuss more about how we started dating . . . “

. . .

Jon looked at the address Sasha had texted him again, checking for the countless time that it was right. Tim was throwing a small house party, and he was Sasha’s date. He had offered to pick her up, but Sasha hadn’t even given the idea a thought before saying no.

“It’s quicker for both of us if we just meet there,” she had said over the phone. Jon wasn’t much of a talker, but Sasha had insisted on using phones rather than texts that anyone could read later. “and I would that to anyone I was dating too. Actually caused some issues in the past, but I never got what the difference between ten minutes was.”

So Jon was in front of Tim’s house by himself, and trying to convince himself that walking up to the door and knocking was not nearly as hard as it felt. It was only when he started considering waiting for Sasha outside that he pushed himself out of it and forced his legs to move.

“Hey Jo—woah,” Tim said as he opened the door, face going slack in surprise before his grin was back, “I’ve never seen you in casual clothes. Feels like I’m breaking the law.”

“Haha,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. He glanced down at his clothes—he had the foresight to stay away from his old college clothes, but honestly his outfit wasn’t much. Just an old t-shirt from a band he used to follow and a pair of jeans. Sasha had warned him not to be too formal, and he had tried to follow that advice. “I do, actually, have a life outside of work.”

He didn’t, really, but Tim didn’t need to know that.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Tim said. “Casual looks good on you. Come in.”

After a couple minutes of small talk and being introduced to Tim’s friends, he found himself sitting on the couch next to Tim.

“So you and Sasha, huh?”

Jon felt his cheeks warm and was glad his darker skin made it hard for people to tell. If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t have known Tim had feelings for her at all.

“If you’re going to interrogate him, you could at least wait until I’m here,” Sasha cut in, and Jon felt himself relax. He wasn’t good at lying, and her easy grin made the whole farce seem more believable.

“What’s the fun in that?” Tim shot back, laughing. “And did you pick the lock? I don’t remember you knocking.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sasha grinned.

“Hellion,” Tim said. “A complete and utter hellion.” He turned to Jon, whispering in a way that was meant to be heard. “Run away before you have to change all your locks.”

“Leave my boyfriend alone,” Sasha rolled her eyes.

“. . . I don’t see how changing locks would do anything if she can pick them?” Jon replied honestly, trying to wrap his head around the logistics of it. His blunt, honest tone made the other two laugh, which hadn’t been his intention, but was workable.

“So you two are official then? I have to say that I am betrayed that neither of you told me earlier.” His words were overly dramatic, as was the way he threw his hand over his heart, but Jon had a feeling there was a kernel of truth in them.

“We didn’t want to tell anyone. I’m his boss, and his transfer was so sudden that we didn’t want people to think the wrong thing.”

Sasha and Tim talked a bit longer, with Jon occasionally chiming in. It was obvious that the two had known each other for a long time; there was an ease in their teasing and back and forth that was almost enviable. It was easy to see why Tim’s feelings hadn’t faded before.

Eventually Tim was called away by a different one of his friends, leaving Sasha and Jon alone.

Sasha’s shoulders relaxed, and suddenly Jon felt guilty for not doing more in their little ruse. He should have put more effort in—but he couldn’t exactly apologize with people still around, so he pushed it down and made a note to apologize later.

“God,” Sasha muttered, “this would be so much easier if he realized how Martin looked at him.”

“Martin?” Jon asked, and she startled.

“Yes,” she said recovering, “the poor bastard is completely besotted, but turned Tim down for a hookup, and in Tim’s mind that means he could never be interested in a date either.”

“Ah,” Jon said, seemingly confused.

“Martin is romantic,” Sasha explained, “but Tim has never been in a relationship that hasn’t started off as purely sexual. But if they got past that hurdle I think they’d actually be a cute couple.”

“If Tim is a fan of constantly having stray animals in his house, then that’s his taste I suppose. Don’t get it myself.”

Sasha snorted.

“Martin apologized how many times about letting that dog in?”

“Not enough.”

“You know, he’s not that bad of a person. You might like him if you gave him a chance.”

“Doubtful,” Jon said dryly. “But we aren’t in the same department, so small mercies I suppose.”

“Ah yes, god forbid you have to work with anything less than complete competence.”

“Well, you’ve set the bar rather high,” Jon responded, the complete honesty in his voice making her blink, pleased. She was more used to teasing back and forth, but there was something nice about not feeling like she was in a competition.

Other people milled about, and they had various conversations with people that Jon immediately had forgotten the names of. At one point, drawing came up, and Jon went into a tirade about the evolution of crayons and other drawing materials as if he had a degree in it. There was a slight crinkle in between his brows, and his hands moved as he talked—different from the usual stiff, purposefully scowling persona he carried at work. Sasha stared, surprised.

Then she smiled, not thinking about it as she reached out and held his hand. He paused, seemingly only half aware of it. He glace at their hands, eyes lighting up slightly, before continuing, this time only gesturing with one hand, though she felt the other twitch in her hands at times.

. . .

The next Monday at work, the atmosphere was not awkward the way Jon had feared. It was incredibly easy to go back into the familiar patterns of researching statements that were patently fake. He had yet to find a single one that was true. Sasha felt the same way but said that this was as good a job as any other, and he agreed.

Once they both clocked out, Sasha asked Jon if they could talk.

“Did Tim believe it?” Jon asked. She nodded.

“You might not believe it, but he doesn’t normally drink quite that much. But I saw Martin watching over him and making sure he was alright, so I think he’ll be okay.”

“That’s good,” Jon said. There was a pause. “I know that you said it would just be one date, but I was thinking—” He stopped, knowing what he wanted to say but unsure of how to.

“Ah, well,” Sasha hadn’t expected to say this, had thought it would be a one and done sort of deal, but before she can think her words through, she adds, “It might be suspicious if we’re only together once. Tim might think that it’s just—just a fling.”

“Of course,” Jon said just a second too quickly. “Tim isn’t dumb, if we go back to acting as friends, he’ll realize something was up.”

“We’ll have to continue,” Sasha said in relief. “So he believes it.”

“So he believes it,” Jon echoed, and they shared a happy smile.

“He invited me to drinks this weekend with some friends if—”

“I’ll be there.” Jon stopped, flushing slightly as he backtracked. “Ah, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Don’t worry about it. So it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

[cake-writes]

Compromise (Part Three)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Angst, Fluff, Separation Anxiety

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

Interlude #1 / Master List

To say you slept terribly was an understatement.

You were too nervous, too keyed up to sleep. Not only were you worried about Winnie, but the prospect of car shopping with Bucky was an additional stressor. Why had you even agreed to it in the first place? Yours was just fine. A beater, sure, but it still ran. Kind of.

Deep down, you couldn’t help but appreciate that he cared about Winnie’s safety. You just didn’t like the nagging. He’d been on your case for the last few months about your car, ever since you got into an accident on the way home from the grocery store. A fender bender, nothing serious. It wasn’t even bad enough to warrant repairs – just a few dents and scratches on your rear bumper. The other driver gave you a couple hundred bucks for damages, which you used on birthday presents for your little girl.

That said, you weren’t poor, just frugal.

Most of Bucky’s child support – a couple thousand dollars a month – went straight into savings for Winnie’s college fund. The rest was used on doctor’s appointments and medicine. Despite the fact that she also had the serum in her veins, she still got sick like a normal child. Between croup and colds and ear infections, you’d dealt with it all; even her asthma, unpredictable as it was. It flared up at the strangest times, not from overexertion or allergies like one might expect, but randomly and you hadn’t yet figured out the cause. Neither had her doctor, let alone Bruce for that matter.

Of course, the serum did affect her some. She grew slightly faster than her peers; although she was a little over three years old, now, physically she was more like four. Then again, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as your pregnancy only lasted eight months instead of nine. Technically she was a preemie but she certainly didn’t seem like one, having been born at a standard six pounds, five ounces.

Standard. Normal.

When she ran, it was at a normal speed too, and she definitely couldn’t lift anything heavy. She had a tendency to trip and fall flat on her face, so her reflexes weren’t exactly enhanced like Bucky’s, either, though her skinned knees did seem to heal faster than the norm.

To you, Winnie was a normal little girl through and through. She played with dolls and stuffed animals, drew with crayons and markers, and had temper tantrums on a regular basis. She liked to dress like a princess, watch Disney movies, be tucked in and read to. She even snuck into your bed at night when she had a nightmare.

She was normal. Mostly.

The fact that her Mommy and Daddy were separated made her a target in preschool, and you hated it. Her friends often babbled about their parents, plural, whereas Winnie usually only got to talk about you. You knew how much it bothered her. 

It bothered you, too.

Morning came before you knew it, and you were anything but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. By the time you left for the compound, it was a little after nine and you’d already downed about a gallon of coffee. Even though you’d been a barista for almost a decade, you never really used to drink coffee much until you had Winnie. Then, all of a sudden, you completely understood why it was so popular.

There were no hassles at the gate this time. Bucky’s name held enough sway that you didn’t have to repeat yourself after yesterday. You kind of liked it – always had, if you were being honest. Not that you’d ever admit it. Especially not to yourself.

Yawning, you made your way up the handful of steps and through the glass doors. You’d texted Bucky right before you left and although he wasn’t there to greet you this time, you vaguely remembered where to go. At least you could take the steps more slowly this time, now that you weren’t being watched.

The compound was incredibly quiet for a Sunday morning in comparison to the tower. There was never a dull moment there, but here, even with all the buildings, it wasn’t noisy at all. Instead it was tranquil – relaxing, almost. You could even hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside as you knocked on Bucky’s door.

On the other side, you picked up the deep rumble of his voice. It wasn’t quite loud enough to make out, but you could easily assume what he’d said when Winnie asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Mommy,” you answered cheerfully.

You heard her squeal, and then she relayed the information like Bucky had no doubt asked her to do. “Mommy’s here! Can I open it now?”

He spoke again – louder, this time, closer to the door. “Sure, princess.”

There were a couple seconds while she fumbled with the handle; she was barely tall enough to reach it at home, and this one was the same. Bucky might have tried to help, you weren’t sure, but soon enough the door was pulled open and a little brunette blur promptly attached itself to your leg.

“Mommy!” Winnie said happily, peering up at you with her big blue eyes. “You’re back!”

“Of course I am, sweetpea! Did you miss me?” you asked with a smile.

While normally you would have ruffled her hair, you noticed that she had two braids on either side of her head, secured by tiny pink elastics you didn’t recognize. They were very cute, but who’d done them up for her? Natasha? You were sure that none of the boys knew how to French braid. Why would they?

That particular thought made you wonder if there was something going on between her and Bucky. She was here yesterday, too. She’d tell you if there was, though, wouldn’t she?

“I missed you lots, Mommy,” Winnie told you, letting go of you to hold her arms up in the air. She wanted to be picked up.

You, of course, hoisted her up with ease and propped her against your hip, holding her little body just a smidge closer than yesterday – not tight enough to hurt, but you were ecstatic to have her in your arms again. “I missed you lots, too, baby.”

Then you finally looked over at Bucky and found him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. The way his tight black t-shirt strained over his biceps made you feel a little hot under the collar, but what really caught you off guard was how his lips were just slightly curled up at the corners, like he was trying not to smile.

You made a joke in an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that he was always too damn attractive for his own good. “So can I come in? Or do I have cooties?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, then, blinking like hadn’t really thought of it – and then he stepped aside to allow you entry. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“If anyone has cooties, it’s Daddy,” Winnie made a point of saying. “He’s a boy.”

You let out an undignified snort as you crossed the threshold. “Is that right?”

“Yeah! Boys are yuck.”

“Boys are yuck, huh,” Bucky remarked, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Then he muttered under his breath, “Sure hope it stays that way.”

That comment coupled with the suddenly wary look on his face made you laugh outright. Bucky hadn’t made you laugh in a long time; you were too busy arguing with him to do much else. “Isn’t it a little early to be worrying about that?”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “you’ve already got her college fund set up. Don’t talk to me about ‘too early’.”

You huffed, but it was in jest. “That’s different.”

“Yeah?” At that, he offered you a roguish grin that made your heart skip a beat. “How’s it different?”

Now, it wasn’t witty banter, per se, but something was different for sure. The dynamic had shifted between the two of you, somewhere between the time you told him goodnight and your mid-morning arrival. It was a small change, but you could feel it in the air: a distinct lack of tension.

Unfortunately, it also made an indignant flush come across your cheeks. He was teasing you. He hadn’t done that in a long time, either.

“It just is,” you responded unhelpfully, setting Winnie down on the sofa before you sat down next to her. You purposely kept your back facing him to conceal the fact that you were blushing like an idiot and you didn’t even know why.

No, that was a lie. You did know why.

This felt entirely too familiar.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to pick up on your change of tone and let it go in favour of asking, “Have you eaten? We only got up a few minutes ago.”

By ‘we’ you assumed he meant Winnie, because he never used to sleep well. Nightmares usually kept him awake, and while you knew he wasn’t a morning person, he got up at the crack of dawn anyway. Bucky told you once that he liked to watch the sun rise. The peace and quiet helped him think.

“Not yet,” you answered, fussing with the wrinkled collar of Winnie’s dress. Another distraction. You’d dropped off a few different outfits for her in an overnight bag last night, along with her inhaler, some toiletries, and of course Mr. Squiggles. Now she was dressed in her Sunday best, but in all actuality, she probably just wanted to wear a pretty dress.

“Daddy said he wanted to make Mommy’s favourite pancakes!” Winnie piped up, and you instinctively tensed at the admission.

That’s right. It was Sunday.

Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat, but made no attempt to correct her.

There was a brief pause – stunned silence – until you regained your bearings enough to ask, “Did he, now?”

“Uh huh!” Winnie told you, nodding excitedly. “Blueberry!”

Your brows rose as you turned to him. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Why do you think I used to make them?”

Your heart instantly warmed at his admission – and ached, because of the memories. He was on missions more often than not when the two of you were together, but without fail, whenever he was home on a Sunday, he made blueberry pancakes. His Ma’s recipe, he said.

They were the best pancakes you’d ever eaten.

“Well,” you began nervously, “it is Sunday.”

He met your eyes, then – gentle, warm. Just like how he used to look at you.

“Daddy,” Winnie whined. “I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Daddy,” you chimed in, feeling a little lighter than before. “I’m hungry, too.”

Bucky grumbled an easy, “Yeah, yeah,” as he got to work, but his tone didn’t match the amused expression on his face. You didn’t fail to notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

That was when Winnie started to tell you about the show she was watching on Netflix, the same cartoon you’d glimpsed yesterday. You were interested in what she had to say, of course you were, but not as much as you normally would have been because her father looked so fucking good right now.

He’d remembered. As innocent as that was, your body’s reaction to it absolutely wasn’t. Call it Pavlovian conditioning, but the first time he made those pancakes for you was the morning after you first slept together. That was the same night Winnie was conceived. 

When Bucky pulled out a frying pan from one of the cabinets and set it on the lit stove, you couldn’t help but notice how his t-shirt stretched over his muscles underneath, not to mention those sweatpants which did nothing to conceal his fantastic ass.

You’d already seen and sampled what he had to offer, but hell if you didn’t want to have another taste anyway. Not that you ever would.

He started to lay out all of the ingredients on the counter, including a punnet of fresh blueberries but you were more focused on the way he worked with such finesse, like making breakfast for the three of you was a normal, everyday thing for him to do.

It was, once.

Then, as Bucky mixed everything together in a large bowl, he finally glanced up only to catch you staring.

Shit.

You immediately tore your eyes away, heart pounding a frenzied tattoo within the confines of your chest and you made sure not to look back again. Instead, you feigned interest in the show Winnie was babbling on about, squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the sudden ache in between.

You needed to stop.

He wasn’t good for you. He wasn’t good for Winnie.

Right?

But your thoughts just kept drifting back to him anyway. You couldn’t help it. It was during times like these that your memories got the best of you, because you knew he was more than capable of being a good father if he wanted to be. You’d seen it not only while you were pregnant, but during the first couple of months after Winnie was born.

What’s worse was that Bucky was capable of so much more, too. He could be downright wonderful. A good boyfriend. A supportive partner. An attentive lover. He was all of those for you once upon a time.

It wasn’t until the pancakes were done and you finally met his eyes again from across the kitchen table that you knew you were in too deep. You’d never gotten over him, not really – and being here with him and your daughter, so sweet and domestic for the first time in years, was what made you finally realize that.

You still wanted to be with him. 

You wanted to be a family.

Part Four

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.1

Summary: Bucky has had the day from hell and all he wants is to buy what he needs and get home to his sick kid. Enter Steve Rogers in the wrong place at the wrong time and Bucky’s day goes from bad to mortifying.  Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: A smidge of bad language, but really ya’ll should expect that from me by now lol

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to start a new adventure with me? I knew I wanted to write a kid!fic with Bucky and Steve but I didn’t expect it to go quite this way until I jokingly called a friend “Captain Clueless” and then couldn’t get that name out of my head in relation to Steve. I fell completely in love with this little universe as I went and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes is not at his finest. He just got off a sixteen hour shift from his job as an ER nurse and can barely keep his eyes open. The shift should have ended four hours earlier, but a tour bus accident had them overwhelmed on what had already been a busy night. Bucky was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep while Becca was at preschool but nope, he came home to a frazzled best friend/ babysitter and a sick four year old. It was always something with Becca, her immune system just wasn’t what it needed to be. Bucky couldn’t fault her for that, she had been born premature and that unfortunately resulted in a whole host of health issues for the little girl. He would never regret adopting her, it was the best decision he’d ever made, but some days parenthood wore on him. 

Bucky moves the load of laundry Natasha had started for him into the dryer. It smells clean but there will forever be a slight stain from puke on the ladybug print sheets. He can try his heavy duty stain remover on it later, but he knows there is only so much that can be done for white fabric and bodily fluids. There’s a reason most of his scrubs are black. After checking in on Becca, Bucky begs Natasha to stay a little longer so he can run down to the bodega to pick up a few things for when Becca wakes up. He would have sworn they had an extra bottle of Pedialyte, but apparently they’d used it up during Becca’s last bout with the flu. 

Natasha waits patiently, listening to Bucky complain about his shift while he quickly changes out of his scrubs into a pair of soft grey sweats and an old Blink 182 tshirt. She’s been his best friend since their first year of college when they met in Intro to Biology. The two of them have been inseparable ever since, both even choosing to stay in Brooklyn after college instead of going back to where they were from. Natasha’s family was from Russia but traveled a lot so she was happy staying in the city that felt like home to her, and Bucky would have done just about anything to avoid going back to the tiny town in Indiana where his parents were still selling drugs out of their trailer and making each other miserable. 

Bucky had thought he was free of his family forever when NYU accepted him into their nursing program. It was his way out of a poverty stricken little town that people rarely escaped from. Bucky had left home at eighteen with no intentions of returning, and he probably never would have, but during his last year of nursing school he found out through Facebook that his thirty eight year old mother was pregnant. To no one’s surprise, his mom was still dealing, still with his deadbeat dad, and was too far along when she found out she was pregnant to have any other option than having the baby. It was a repeat of the situation she’d found herself in at sixteen when she had Bucky. Knowing what it was like to grow up in that house, Bucky couldn’t allow another child to be brought into such a toxic environment. As soon as his mom confirmed the news was true, he hopped on the next flight out to Indiana and started the process to legally adopt his sister once she was born. 

When Rebecca Grace Barnes came into the world nine weeks early the doctors said it was a miracle she survived. She was so small, just barely three pounds, and needed to stay in the NICU for just over a month. Bucky had made arrangements with his professors to turn in exams and papers online, barely managing to finish up his nursing degree while biding his time before he could go back to Brooklyn with his baby sister. It had been a wild ride trying to get his nursing career started while caring for a newborn but Natasha had been a life saver. She and their other friend Clint had stepped up in a huge way, helping to watch Becca when he needed to work and daycare wasn’t open. Their schedules had gotten even messier recently when Becca started preschool. Bucky is counting down the days until kindergarten starts so their schedules will align enough for him to only lean on Nat and Clint one or two days a week at most. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Natasha throws a balled up Minnie Mouse sock at Bucky who’s too tired to dodge and instead gets a face full of pink fleece. 

“Yeah, Nat,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could take off his aching prosthetic but knowing he’ll need both hands for shopping bags. “I’m getting you a choco taco and a red bull this time. I got you.” 

Natasha nods happily, completely unphased by Bucky’s eye roll. She’s getting her wake up juice and her crunchy chocolatey sugar, and that is all that matters.

Bucky rushes around the bodega grabbing everything he’ll need to deal with a sick kid, throwing things in the basket without even bothering to check price tags. His bank account will hate him, but he doesn’t exactly have time or options to find the best deals. Grabbing Nat’s items and an iced coffee for himself, he waits in line as an older man chats with the clerk while the teenager rings up his order. The television in the corner is playing the local news, apparently Captain America visited a rec center in Brooklyn recently. There are sound bites from elderly residents and young kids fawning over him, and one of the Captain himself extolling the importance of community and keeping kids off the streets.

Bucky thinks his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head with how hard he rolls them. “This fucking guy.” Bucky grumbles as he places his basket on the counter, unloading his stuff. 

The clerk nods in silent agreement.

“I’m sure he was a ‘bright shining beacon of hope’ back in WWII but he has no clue what’s going on in the real word nowadays.” Bucky continues.

The clerk nods once again and Bucky, feeling particularly exhausted and grumpy, yells over at the TV, “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine Captain Clueless!”  

“Captain Clueless?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him, “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but that’s a new one.” 

Bucky sees the clerk's face go pale and the kid freezes, confirming what Bucky feared when he heard that rich baritone behind him. Oh fuck. 

Turning around, Bucky prepares himself for the worst. Instead, he finds an extremely amused looking Captain America holding a bottle of water and a bag of swedish fish. 

“I’m… I… I didn’t mean…” Bucky stammers. He doesn’t know how to politely explain I meant every word but never meant for you to hear it. 

The register pings as the clerk frantically finishes ringing up Bucky’s order, trying to get both men out of the shop before the situation can get any worse. The sound startles Bucky and he turns around to see the green blinking $58.79 on the little box. His stomach sinks, there went grocery shopping for the week. But, he reasons, Becca won’t want much for a few days while she recovers and he’s no stranger to a ramen-only diet. They’ll get by, just like they always do. 

Before Bucky can hand over his last three twenties, a sleek black card taps against the card reader and the machine starts blinking, processing it. Bucky spins around in surprise only to literally face plant into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle that smells like tea tree and mint, yum. Bucky moves backwards in surprise, bumping into the counter but getting himself away from the giant of man who’s also moving backwards after their collision. 

“It’s on me.” Steve tells him with a shrug. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Bucky insists, “I insulted you.” 

“You were just being honest.” Steve reasons, “I don’t get to hear people’s honest opinions all that much.” 

“That has to be weird.” 

Steve chuckles, “Pal, you got no idea.” 

“Well, thank you. And I am sorry you heard that.” Bucky collects his bags, still dumbfounded by the whole experience. 

“I’d like to hear more about why you said it. Whatever you think it is I’m missing about the twenty-first century. I’m just out for a run so if you don’t mind company on your way back to wherever, maybe we could talk?” 

Bucky shakes his head. The man actually wants to learn how to be a better person after being insulted by a random grungey stranger in a bodega. “You really are Captain America.” Bucky murmurs, still stunned. 

Steve chuckles again; a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, guilty as charged. But you can just call me Steve.” Steve winks conspiratorially and Bucky thinks he might actually combust. No one should be allowed to be that good looking. 

Bucky waits as the cashier rings Steve up for his things and Steve taps his card again to pay. “I thought it was weird enough getting a card that swiped when I came out of the ice, but now this one doesn’t even swipe. It just taps and poof, done.” Steve says with a faint tone of awe. 

Bucky can’t imagine how many things Steve needed to adjust to after waking up from the ice. “Far cry from what you were used to, huh?” 

“Well, it sure beats keeping coins in old coffee cans.” 

Bucky glances over at Steve as they leave the bodega together, “You do that whole ‘awe shucks, man out of time’ thing really well. Is it real though? No offense, you can’t really be that well adjusted. You’re still human.”

Steve meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, crystalline blue piercing into smoke grey-blue, assessing him. After a few beats he decides Bucky is someone who can handle the truth. “It’s a lot easier to do that than to curse up a storm every time some piece of tech pisses me off. Plays out a lot better with the whole Captain America image too.”  

“I didn’t think Captain America even knew how to swear.” Bucky teases. 

“He doesn’t, but Steve Rogers does. I grew up in Brooklyn, I know how to curse.” 

Bucky laughs, swinging his bags idly as they walk in silence for a few steps.

Steve breaks the silence, reminding him of why they’re walking down the street together in the first place, “So really, why do you think I’m so out of touch? Because I thought SHIELD did a bang up job teaching me about the world and what I missed while I was out.” 

“I’m sure they did, but SHIELD is still an agency with their own ideas and agendas. I promise you, you got a watered down version of real life. Do me a favor; when you get home look up what they say about The Great Depression and WWII. Do a little research on how we look back at those times. Then think about how it really was back then when you were living it. I would bet you lunch that the two don’t line up.” 

“I never thought about it that way.” Steve admits. “I’ll look it up today, promise.”

They arrive on Bucky’s stoop and he climbs up a step, looking down at Steve instead of up at him. He wants to know what Steve thinks once he does some research but doesn’t know how to ask. Luckily, Steve beats him to it. 

“I’m going to need your number if you’re taking me out to lunch.” Steve says casually, a light hint of teasing. 

Bucky blushes, trying to remind himself that he was the one who threw the lunch bet out there. Steve Rogers would never just ask him out like that. “I… uh… um…” he fumbles anyway.

Steve takes a step back in retreat, his own cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, that was. I’m sorry. You clearly have a sick kid to get back to, and I’m sure a lovely wife waiting for you too.” he motions at Bucky’s bags. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” Steve turns to hurry off and, thankfully, Bucky’s brain catches up with him.

“Steve, no.” he blurts out. “No wife. Sick kid, yes. But no, um, no one else. If you want my number, I’ll give it to you. My schedule is a little weird because of my job but I do want to know what you think when you get done looking things up.” 

Steve smiles up at Bucky, soft and hopeful and genuine. It isn’t the All American facade grin he uses for the cameras, and it feels all the more special to Bucky because of it. Steve hands over his phone to Bucky so he can enter in his contact info and then sends him a quick text so Bucky has his number too. “So, I’ll call you later then?” Steve tries, sounding a little unsure still.

“Yeah, I’ll look forward to it, Steve.” Bucky looks up at his doorway, knowing he needs to get back to Becca but not wanting Steve to leave quite yet. 

Steve takes the hint and gives him another soft smile and a small wave as he turns and heads off down the bustling city sidewalk. 

Bucky stands there a moment, collecting himself and trying to process it all, before hurrying back upstairs to his little apartment to relieve Natasha of babysitting duty.

*** New chapters will be posted on Sunday and Wednesday nights until the fic is complete ***

[offrankies]

New Beginnings || Graham & Frankie

TIMING: A few days ago PARTIES: @grahamstoker & @offrankies SUMMARY: An anxious, homeless lesbian with lots of questions convinces a hematophobic vampire to let her be his roommate, and gets some answers in the process.

Rushing in to a new town with nothing but a backpack filled with things hadn’t been one of her brightest choices. Frankie knew her grandma had to butter up to her parents into accepting her decision and that would mean eventually getting most of her stuff from her house, but until then, she couldn’t afford a place to live on her own as she only had enough money for a month’s worth of rent and food. Her first day in town had been spent driving around, in hopes of finding Layla walking around, but also to start learning her way around. She’d eventually found a grocery store, a board on the entrance with different kinds of ads. One in particular had stood out, a simple “room for rent” with a scribbled address. Her grandma would’ve argued it was sketchy, but at this point she was desperate for a roof to sleep under. A knot had formed on her throat as she stood outside of the apartment, her hands clenched in fists against her chest. She had no job, no education other than school; just hopes and dreams that she knew White Crest would fulfill. With a deep breath, heart pounding on her chest, Frankie placed two knocks on the door.

The city of Rome wasn’t built in a day, they said, but Graham found himself absently wondering if it was built by vampires as he sat splayed on his couch, one leg over the arm as he lazily flipped through the channels on his TV. It probably wasn’t; thank god he wasted thought on that. He finally had a day off both his jobs, which he seemed to have worked every day since he arrived in this weird-ass town and dammit, he was going to enjoy his nothing-to-do. So it was odd that that would be the one day he received a couple knocks on the door and he frowned to himself, wondering who it could’ve been. He stretched and got to his feet slowly, trudging over to the door and not bothering to look through the peephole before opening it to regard a… girl. Teenager. It took him just one short moment to mask his confusion and his expression softened. “Hey there,” He said lightly. “What can I do for you?” He never was one to shy away from temporarily entertaining (and maybe even trolling) passing salespeople; she was no different. 

Frankie’s hands started fidgeting, mindlessly pulling the broken skin on her nails as she waited for the door to open. It hadn’t been even a minute, but the seconds stretched like years in front of her, and the moment the door opened, she braced herself to the shiny colors that would greet her… except nothing came, just the voice of an older man. Her mouth opened and then closed again, in shock. There was absolutely nothing surrounding the other, at least nothing other than air, and she had to fight the urge to raise her hand and touch him to know that he was real. It wasn’t possible, never in her life she’d seen a person without an aura - at least, not one that was breathing and staring at her with bright eyes. There were times where she’d met people with small, almost concealed auras, but there was always a hint, a glimpse of colorful shadows around them. His voice made her blink a few times rapidly, snapping out of her thoughts, and she quickly straightened her back, clearing her throat, ignoring her heartbeat on her ears. If she had been nervous before, it had turned into excitement. Who- no, What was he? “Hi, I’m-- I’m Frankie, I just moved here. Uh---” Her shaking hands reached into her backpack, pulling a creased piece of paper and extending it to him. “ I was wondering if you-- if the room offer is still there?” Out of all the things Graham was expecting the girl named Frankie to try to sell him on, asking for his spare room wasn’t on that list. Part of him forgot that he had even offered the room out. Only part, mind, but it was still enough for him to stand there for a second or two to process what exactly he wrote. He remembered soon enough, though, and he gave her a small nod, taking the paper from her gently and noting her… presumed nervousness. “Yeah! Yeah, c’mon in, Frankie.” He offered, standing aside to allow the girl passage. He was thinking of someone a little older, perhaps, but he had moved out of his house by the time he was 18 so he knew it was possible. “Don’t be scared,” He added, his tone casual and approachable. “I promise I’m not one of those weirdos that post stuff to lure girls in. Not my style.” Hopefully she would believe him on that.

In all honesty, the possibility of him being a predator hadn’t crossed Frankie’s mind until he mentioned it, and she couldn’t help but laugh at that. Normally she’d know if he had such intentions, but for the first time in her life she was completely clueless with what and who she was dealing with. Still, she was way too interested to let the opportunity pass. She made her way inside, looking around the room. “I’m not scared.” She reassured him, turning around to give him another look, the lack of aura once again making her breath catch in her throat. Maybe she needed glasses? Maybe the place was somehow locking the auras from showing?  “This is… all new for me, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” She didn’t know if she was referring to finding a place to live or the lack of flowing colors everywhere, but she guessed it was true for both. “It’s a lovely place though, … uhm.” Her lips pressed together, waiting for a name. “Well… start by taking a seat anywhere you think’s comfortable,” Graham replied, closing the door behind her and going over to the bar that separated his kitchen from the living room, keeping his eyes on her not warily but just to show that he was giving her his attention. “Oh, it’s Graham,” He gave her the name as he got out a glass and filled it with ice and water. “Tell me about you, Frankie; how old are you, what do you like to do, things like that.” He suggested, going back over to her and offering the glass to her. At least she wasn’t afraid; good. He tried to avoid giving that impression when he could avoid it. 

Her eyes moved around the room, and Frankie wasn’t completely sure if she should sit down on the couch or not. “Nice to meet you Graham.” Oh, fuck it, if she was going to live here she needed to see if the couch was comfortable or not. Taking her backpack off her back, she sat down, now focused on the man. “Well, I’m nineteen, soon to be twenty. Or not so soon, really. My birthday’s in November. I want to get a bachelor’s in childhood education so I really need to look into colleges around here. Uhm, I also kinda need a job but I have enough money for rent until I get one.” Was she rambling? Oh god she started rambling. She wiped the sweat of her hands on her black jeans, a nervous laugh escaping her. What are you supposed to say in these things? “I like animals and I have my own motorcycle...?” As the girl situated herself, Graham studied her movements, her speech patterns and, of course, the information she gave him about herself and he couldn’t help but scoff when she told him that she didn’t have a job but did have a motorcycle. “So you’re from out of town,” He assumed. “Your only education is high school and you need a job,” He basically repeated her though he noted that she had money. Part of him wondered for a moment if it was because her parents were rich, that she was a thief or she had a job before but that was then and this was now so it didn’t matter too much to him. “And you like animals. That’s good, at least.” He chuckled, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “So I gotta ask; what made you come to White Crest?” Relatively speaking, White Crest DID have the weird ability to draw people to it for some reason or another. He had gotten a suggestion but he was learning that a lot of people just… showed up. He felt like that might’ve been the case with this girl.

“I know it doesn’t look good, but I can’t get a job or enroll in college unless I find a place to live first.” Frankie’s hands were once again fidgeting on her lap, the realization that she was blowing the interview. However, his question made her freeze on her seat. The image of Layla crying and telling her all the secrets she had kept from her filled her mind, and she had to bite down her lower lip to keep herself from tearing up. “I’m … I’m looking for my girlfriend.” Her voice was awfully quiet in comparison with her previous outburst, and once more she found herself fishing inside her backpack, grabbing the tape to show it to him, her lips tightly pressed together. For a minute, she didn’t say anything, pondering. She could lie, come up with a pitiful excuse and use emotional leverage to convince him to let her stay; or she could be honest, and risk sleeping on the streets yet another night. “Her parents told me she was dead, but she sent me this two days ago so I’m- I’m trying to find her.” He was thrown for another loop and Graham’s expression got more gentle almost immediately when Frankie came clean about why she was there. His thoughts nowadays seemed to occur in short bursts of memory and the briefest of contemplations and for that moment, he recalled the face of a woman, with a warm smile and an infectious laugh. Her hand on his shoulder, her lips against his, the smell of expensive wine tingeing her breath as-- He blinked and he gave a small sigh as he took the tape from her shaking hands. He would’ve been lying if he thought to deny her request, to tell her she’d have more luck somewhere else and to not get involved but he couldn’t bring himself to and he turned the tape in his hands carefully before handing it back. “Okay,” He relinquished. “Okay, just… calm down, it’s okay.” He assured, putting his hands on his hips. He exhaled through his nose. This changed a couple things up. “So… since we’re being honest, what’s going on with your girlfriend? Why did her parents sign her off as dead?”

Frankie's lips were once more tightly pressed, a knot on her throat forming as the other stood quietly. She had flunked it, and she quietly closed her backpack and grabbed it as she stood up, ready to be kicked out. However, his answer and question made her open her eyes wide, carefully taking the tape. Once again, she was at a crossroad, needing to decide whether to lie or not. A nervous laugh escaped her, and she shoved the tape back with her belongings, not daring to meet his eye, the lack of aura still making her nervous, but what she was about to admit made her even more anxious. "You won't believe me if I tell you." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up to him, an apologetic smile painting her lips. "She's- she's a werewolf-- and her family wanted her dead because they're hunters and hunters kill werewolves, and she was supposed to be one of them but then she wasn't---" Taking a deep breath to slow down her babbling, she hadn't realized the tears were willing down her face. "I- I know this sounds taken straight out of a lame 90's movie like Teen Wolf but I swear I'm being honest." Though he could feel Frankie’s anxiety radiating off of her, Graham was determined to keep his eyes on her with no impression that he was about to toss her out. However, from the moment she said ‘werewolf’, he smothered the immediate scoff that wanted so badly to escape his body and he inhaled sharply through his nose as a compromise. He remained steadfast in his gaze as she continued to be upfront with him, or at least upfront enough that he didn’t think she was actually lying - rather, he found Frankie’s very evident attachment to this girl to be endearing. He was realising as she talked that he probably wasn’t the best person to deal with teenage drama. He got another short memory of the woman from before, thinking she would’ve been much better at this. “Oh, sweetie,” He did scoff this time as he gently reached forward and wiped a tear from her face with a thumb, giving her a smile. “I believe you.” He said, stroking the side of her face briefly in what he hoped was a warm gesture (her skin certainly was) before pulling away and reaching over to retrieve the decorative box of tissues from the side table in the corner and offering it out to her. “That’s awful, though. I can’t imagine being killed or hunted by your own family. And so young to be given such a curse.” He lied this time, easily but he still meant what he said. “No more crying on the couch. Just take a deeeep breath.” He had to lighten the mood if only for his own sake.

The moment Graham's hand touched her, Frankie took a sharp intake and let out a sharp yet soft scream. He was colder than the ice cream she used to share with Layla, and the seconds his finger lingered on her face stretched dlike eternity, her heart sinking on her chest. "You're cold." She whispered, swallowing to get rid of the knot the crying had formed in her throat, and for a moment, Frankie felt small, and alone, realizing that she had left everything and everyone chasing something that sounded like a dream. Without a warning, she closed the distance between them and burrowed her face on his chest, her sobs filling the room. Nevermind that he was a complete stranger with no aura and honestly a potential murderer - he believed her, and for a second that's all she needed. "Please let me stay here." Her voice was muffled by the clothes and her sobs, and Frankie was too desperate and broken to realize that not only his hands were cold, but that his whole body felt like a big human shaped rock. One moment Graham was offering out tissues and the next he was standing there with a teenage girl burying her face in his shirt, feeling her fingers grasping at his clothes like she was drowning and scrabbling to grab onto anything to keep her from going under. He gulped and his eyes darted around the room under furrowed brows for a few moments, as if he were the butt of some hidden-camera show. Well… he knew, he knew that it didn’t matter if he was being secretly recorded or not; he used to be a surgeon. That part of his brain kickstarted for the situation and though he experienced hesitancy, his mind still seeming to want to determine whether or not he was actually sympathetic to her plight or just eager to get this over with, what empathy he had retained from his old life sparked back to life and he placed a strong hand on the top of her head. He started weighing the pros and cons….. and figuring out that there weren’t a whole lot of pros. Baby steps. He pet the top of her head gently. “Okay.” He said softly. He wanted to add some levity again but he left his response as it was and simply stood there, steadfast for her to cry herself out.

Frankie felt like her whole mind was spiraling without control, flashing images of Layla and her watching bad movies in her bed with their legs tangled together, her grandmother teaching her the importance of meaning behind the different colors surrounding a person, her mother softly caressing her hair when life became too hard one day to another. It felt like years had passed, her whole life changing in a matter of hours. She’d struggled, she was still struggling, and even though she took pride in being a smart, strong woman, it took times like this to remember she was still only a kid. The feeling of Graham’s hand trying to comfort her mixed with his soft answer took more muffled crying from her, and it took several minutes for her to calm down. Eventually, her shoulders were no longer shaking and her fists weren’t clenched on his shirt, but instead cradled against her own chest as she took a few steps back from him, puffy eyes and rosy cheeks from her sudden outburst. Her breathing was still irregular, but at least she felt a little better.  “I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean to do that.” And like that, she let herself drop back on the couch. “My- My grandma told me stories when I was a kid and I never thought they’d be real, about werewolves and fairies and vampires, and now Layla just throws this bomb at me and I left my home to find her and I don’t--” She stopped to take a deep breath, wiping her face with both her hands in frustration, but also to wipe the tears that were still there. “I don’t even care if it’s real or not, I just need to find her.” All things considered, Graham thought he was treating this situation like a boss. He waited patiently until she pulled away from him in which he removed his hand from her head. the sudden separation of her body heat from him almost prompting a sigh but he kept it under wraps. He examined the tears on his shirt briefly - bigger fish to fry, don’t worry about it - and he offered the box of tissues again. “Yeah, it can be a little… jarring,” He agreed, sitting on the arm of the couch lightly. “You said she sent you that message, what, two days ago? The likelihood of her still being here is pretty good,” He said before his expression shifted. “But I’ll be honest with you - werewolves aren’t nice creatures to fuck around with. Have you figured out what you’re gonna do after you find her?” 

“I hope you’re right.” She mumbled, sinking even more on the couch. His question made Frankie’s mouth hung open for a few seconds as she thought, before she clenched her teeth, a frustrated groan leaving her as she burrowed her face in her hands. There were just too many things going on through her head and  Graham, though blessed for not kicking her out the second she opened her mouth, wasn’t helping. Honestly, Frankie hadn’t thought that far ahead and had hoped that things would sort out on their own once they happened. She could worry about what she would tell Layla after and if she found her. But his previous statement floated around her head, and she turned her face towards him, one eye peeping from between her fingers. “How… How do you know so much about werewolves? And why aren’t you freaking out?” And she put her face in her hands again. Graham felt his eyebrows do a dance on his forehead as they went from raised in worry to half-quirked with some other emotion. He guessed he didn’t say the right thing but he felt it was important to at least think about future plans before jumping in even deeper. The look carried through into his mulling over her question when she asked between her fingers. She was being honest so far but would she believe him? He was far less concerned with her leaving if she didn’t like what or how he was but given that she dropped everything to come running to her werewolf girlfriend, he decided to go out on a limb and he started to rub his hands together absently, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been told a lot of things and I’ve done a lot of reading,” He replied honestly. “As I’m sure you’ve been able to figure out, this town is hella weird. I dunno what all was in those stories your grandma told you but at least half of it is probably true.” He explained. “This is the part where I should probably tell you that I’m a vampire.” Well, there it was. He didn’t adjust his form at all as he spoke, wondering how the girl was going to react to that information.

Her mouth formed a perfect circle, her hands slowly sliding down her face to her lap. Her face felt weird because of the dried tears and her eyes still stinging with a burning sensation, but it didn’t quite matter when he had dropped yet another bomb. The Frankie from six months ago would’ve laughed in his face, grabbed her stuff and walked out of the apartment without a second doubt, but after everything that had happened in her life, and after Graham so easily believing what she was saying, it would be hypocritical of her. A small voice told her than, maybe, he was messing with her and joking after the werewolf bit, but the feeling of his cold hands and hard body was still lingering in her skin. A vampire. Unconsciously, her body shifted slightly away from him. Vampires were… bad, right? At least most movies portrayed them like that. Then again there was Twilight where vampires were good--- Oh, What if he was like Bella? And that was why she couldn’t see his aura? “Um. I’m- You won’t drink my blood if I live here, right? I mean I guess I could--- maybe-- if it doesn’t hurt too much but it would be just super weird and-- ” “Oh no no, that’s not my intention,” Graham replied quickly, keeping his blue eyes on her steadily and noticing her subtle body language, distancing herself from him as he expected; good, she had some form of self-preservation. “You’re a little young and…” He did actually consider withholding the following information but decided to go all the way since they were already there. “The sight and smell of blood makes me… nauseous. Freaks me out.” He DID decide not to add the part where he would’ve said ‘I might kill you’ - there was a line so he decided to hide it behind the good ol’ hematophobia. “I don’t feed in front of other, uh… people.” He wasn’t lying about this part; he already dropped the ball with the whole ‘vampire’ bit. “UNLESS-- unless… well, no. I still don’t plan on it.” He shrugged. “If your girlfriend is over and she wolfs out, then all bets are off.” He felt the need to specify. “I draw the line at being attacked in my own apartment.” He gave her a clever smile. “BUT that being said, you’re off my menu. Just… warn me if you’re planning on getting blood anywhere.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Any more questions so far?”

“How often do you feed?” The question was out of Frankie’s mouth before she even noticed what she was doing, her lips pressing together to keep her from spilling any more blabbering or stupid questions. Honestly, at this point she had no idea what she was anxious about, but she couldn’t seem to find the off button. “Sorry. Uhm. Don’t answer that. I’m sorry your only food source makes you sick.” She remained quiet for a moment, thinking. “What does wolfing out mean? Do werewolves turn into actual wolves? I thought they just… grew more hair and… I don’t know, got claws and stuff? And Is the alpha beta thing an actual thing? And-- do they have, like, insane senses? Can they turn them off?” She stopped to take a deep breath, suddenly standing up to face him better. “Sorry. We can, uhm, I guess you can fill me out on the wolf department later. I-- I kinda need to come clean about something too.” Her mouth was like a faucet the way she just spilled question after question but Graham kept in mind every one of them until she finished with a taper and she realised that she was unloading her curiosity onto him. He didn’t necessarily mind but that was what he HAD in mind when he asked about questions. He found it curious for a moment that she was inherently more interested in the ‘wolf’ part than the ‘vampire’ part but that was to be expected - she WAS the girlfriend of a werewolf, after all. “How ‘bout this, then - I’ll answer your veritable onslaught once you tell me what’s on your mind.” He compromised, looking at her patiently.

Frankie was silently thankful of how calm Graham was, taking each outburst better than the last. She licked her lips as she figured out the best way of telling him, as it was the first time she ever confessed her gift to someone outside her family. “Okay so---” Her left hand reached forward to him, not touching him but rather lingering a few inches away, tracing where his aura would be if he had one. “-- there’s absolutely nothing here. You have no aura. And I kinda think it’s because you’re, uhm, dead, but I can’t really tell because I’ve only dealt with people before?” Blabbering. She was blabbering again. Another deep breath, her hand dropping, fingers toying with each other. “What I mean is --- I can see auras. And they’re annoying for the most part because they’re super bright sometimes. So it’s nice that you don’t have one.” “Ah, you’re an aura reader,” Graham replied casually, lying through his teeth - he honestly didn’t know that aura readers were a thing but she didn’t need to know that. He didn’t find it surprising that she could read auras though he did find himself slightly surprised at his own lack of aura… he didn’t have one? He was undead but he was still a-- well, maybe he didn’t qualify as a person anymore. That thought made him… “Well! Happy to help; I can imagine how annoying that could be.” He painted over his brief expression with a smile. “Guess it works out in our favour.” He said, reaching forward with a finger and poking her palm gently, feeling her heat against his skin. “Okay, my turn.” He cleared his throat, going back to rubbing his hands together. “I try to only feed once or twice a week. I call when werewolves involuntarily transform ‘wolfing out’. Like someone ‘freaking out’ but with a wolf,” He looked up as he recalled the questions in order. “Only werewolves who have achieved some sort of equilibrium turn into actual wolves, to my knowledge. Most of the time, they take on quadrupedal beasts with wolf features. Alphas and such are mostly a myth but I THINK the wolves that were born with it prefer running in packs. The “alpha” thing isn’t much more of a thing to werewolves than humans who want leaders. Annnnnd… They have enhanced senses that get stronger nearer to the full moon.” He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t miss any questions, did I?”

His reaction made Frankie smile in relief. Oh, thank God he knew what she was on about, because she didn’t have the slightest idea on how to explain how, less alone why she could see auras, and in all honesty, even if she knew how, she didn’t want to do it either. Her eyes looked down to his finger poking her fidgeting hands, and because she was a curious teen, she reached forward to take his hands in hers, the cold touch completely foreign to her but, now that she knew what to expect, it didn’t bother her. For the first time since she had entered the room, she remained quiet, letting him speak, her fingers playing with his and letting her warmth conquer his tundra. It was amazing how Graham could recall every single question she had asked, even the ones she didn’t even remember saying. Even after he had stopped talking, she remained silent. It was way too much information, and by the way her brows were furrowed, she was clearly struggling to process everything. “I need to write this down somewhere before I forget.” And like that, she let go of his hands, a sigh escaping her. “Thank you. For, like, everything, not just the not having an aura and.. answering my shi--- stuff.” Was she allowed to swear? “Uhm, I promise I’m not always a mess ...? Maybe sometimes--- but you won’t regret taking me in.” The space between them was quiet for a moment following his string of answers as Graham felt her fingers touching his hand, almost childlike in their curiosity. He had to admit that the warmth was one of the things he missed the most and he got another brief memory before it faded back out and he saw the look on her face - maybe he answered too many of her questions at once. She was a teenage human and this was a lot to take in. He chuckled when she censored herself and shook his head. “I can write everything down for you and you can curse - you’re a grown-ass adult who can make her own decisions.” He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re here, after all.” He pulled to his feet from sitting on the arm of the couch. “Just take a few days to get settled in, just relax. One step at a time.” He pulled the front of his shirt away from his chest to keep it from sticking subconsciously. “C’mon, lemme show you around. You can have the guest bathroom - keep it clean,” He motioned for her to gather her things and follow her. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

GROWN UP CHRISTMAS LIST

link to the sing is HERE

A/N: Last one before Christmas everyone!  Also, I totally forgot Peter Parker is Jewish/Jewish coded and it was too last minute to change so I tried my best to make it work, I’m so sorry >~< please tell me if anything is inaccurate or insensitive and I’ll fix it ASAP

College!Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 1994

Summary: The holiday season is supposed to be joyful and warm!  But Peter can’t feel happy knowing others are suffering.

Warnings: Peter being a bit of a jerk, sadness, mentions of homelessness and illness, a bit of depression/ sadness?

Do you remember me

I sat upon your knee

I wrote to you with childhood fantasies

Well I'm all grown up now

And still need help somehow

I'm not a child but my heart still can dream

  December was a pretty busy season for you and your fiance.  You and Peter had three holidays to plan for that month, sometimes two of them would overlap.  You would both have to go Christmas shopping and prepare for a week of Hanukkah, and of course New Years after that.  It was hectic, but always loads of fun!  This year, you decided to stay with Aunt May over the holidays and celebrate with her and Ned; get the whole gang together!

You rummaged through Aunt May’s decorations, some green and red, others silver and blue, looking for the old holiday pictures of Peter.  It was mandatory you put at least one old picture of Peter up, just to embarrass him.  “Oh my gosh, look at this!” You laughed, calling over Ned and May so they could see.  They looked up from their Christmas-light-untangling to see what you were laughing about.

It was the photo that had been taken a few years ago when you took Peter to see Santa at the mall as a joke.  He was wearing a kippah, an “ugly Hanukkah sweater, and his tallit.  The mall Santa got a kick out of it and both he and Peter looked so happy in the picture.

“I totally forgot about that one!” May cackled, her body moving joyfully as she laughed, “put it on the mantle! That’s too good for people not to see!”.

“Speaking of which, where is Peter?” Ned asked, adjusting his festive Santa hat, “he should have been here by now, it’s been hours,”

“Well he’s got a big grocery list to shop for- two holidays and normal shopping,” you said, putting the picture on the mantle, between the Menorah and Christmas tree, “he was also going to visit MJ,”

  Peter barged into the door, carrying about seven thousand grocery bags, all packed full.  “Little help please?” he demanded, a six pound bag of potatoes balancing on his head.

You and Ned rushed to help him, gathering some of the bags and setting them down on the kitchen floor and counters.  “Are you okay?!” Ned gasped, hoping Peter didn’t hurt himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” he snapped, groaning as he rubbed the red marks on his wrists from there the bags were cutting off his circulation.  He pushed past you and stormed to his room, slamming the door.

“... Geez…” Ned hissed, turning back to the groceries to help put them away, “what’s up with him?”.

You narrowed your eyes at Peter’s bedroom door, a little miffed at how poorly he had treated his friend.  “I don’t know… maybe it’s just the holiday shopping- it’s… it’s pretty stressful…”.

 So here's my lifelong wish

My grown-up Christmas list

Not for myself but for a world in need

This is my grown-up Christmas list

  You groaned as you struggled to wrap Peter’s gift- the tape would not cooperate and your wrapping paper kept ripping.  How was it you were being outsmarted by a PS4 that wasn’t even out of its box?  “How do people do this so easily?!” you groaned.

Ned laughed, helping you with the tape, “practice,” he said, handing you a little strip and folding the paper over so it would cover the whole box.

You looked past Ned to see his perfect pile of perfectly wrapped presents.  “Show off…” you muttered, cutting some blue ribbon and tying it into a mediocre-looking bow.

  With soft footsteps, Peter wandered into the kitchen to get himself some eggnog.  That was his favorite part of celebrating both Holidays- he got the best food from both of them.

“Go back to your room! No peeking!” you cried out, shoving his David’s star-shaped stocking under the couch, “we’re wrapping your gifts!”.

He paused mid-sip to cringe.  “Why did you get me gifts?” Peter scoffed, “could’ve spent that money on charity…”.  That last part was said under his breath, but you heard it clear as a bell.

“Hey, you should be grateful!” you spat back, “if you didn’t want anything, you should’ve told me that before!”.  If you were completely honest, Peter had been acting like this since Thanksgiving; bitchy.  You were not going to tolerate it.

He just rolled his eyes and walked back to his room to be alone.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), I’m sure he’ll apologize once he’s out of this funk,” Ned said, putting a hand on your shoulder.  You wished you could believe that...

 As children, we believe

The grandest sight to see

Was something lovely wrapped beneath the tree

But Heaven only knows

That packages and bows

Can never heal a hurting human soul

  “Turn off the Christmas lights! The Menorah looks so much prettier with them off,” May said, motioning her hand for Ned to switch off the electric lights.

Ned nodded, rushing to turn off all the lights and closing the curtains.  You’re not sure why he decided to do that, it was already dark outside… even though it was only, like, two pm.

May put in the fifth candle in its place, before starting to recite the blessing.  “Baruch atah…. Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam… asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah…” she recited perfectly, barely even looking at the cheat sheet she printed out.

The cheat sheet was more for you as you tried your very best to speak good Hebrew… you were not very good, definitely butchering the pronunciation.  You looked over at Peter for some guidance, but he wasn’t even trying.

His lips barely moved as he mumbled the blessing, switching his weight from one foot to the other.  His arms were crossed and in his face, he looked… sad.  Overall he just looked uncomfortable.  Peter loved this part of the night!  It was weird enough that he turned down the opportunity to light the candles, but wasn't even participating.  Was he okay?

  May lit the helper candle from the center before taking it from its stand and lighting the other five.  The flame reflected off her glasses as she smiled, so excited to share her family tradition with others.  “Peter, why don- hey… are you okay?” she asked, cupping his squishy face in her hands, “what’s wrong, peanut?”.

Pete looked at her with sad puppy eyes.  He swallowed his feelings, pushing away from her to go back to his room.  “Nothing…” he mumbled, “if you need anything, I’ll be at my desk,”.

 What is this illusion called the innocence of youth

Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth

  It was the middle of the night, not a creature was stirring, except for you.  It was cold, it had started to snow, and you only had one blanket, so you were going to the to find another one.  You quietly padded to the living room, only to be startled by the shadowy figure on the couch.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, turning on a lamp, “oh.. Peter… it’s just you…”.

He didn’t even move, he just kept holding the picture he had taken off the mantle, staring at the wall.

  “What are you doing up, darling?” you asked, going to sit down beside him.  He shifted away from you, but it was clear he needed affection, so you gently put a hand on his shoulder.  He let you.  “Peter, you’ve been acting weird, please tell me what’s wrong?” you begged, rubbing his back gently, “I’m worried about you,”.

Peter let out a long, tired sigh, his shoulders sagging.  “What’s the point?” he sniffed, trying not to cry.  Oh, you hated seeing him cry, he always looked so scared and helpless when he cried.  “Why should I enjoy my time during the holidays when there are millions of people suffering?” he sobbed, leaning into your side for comfort, “I tried to visit MJ the other day, but she couldn’t talk because her Aunt is sick, I went shopping and I saw so many homeless people on the street… now that it’s snowing people are freezing!”.

  You heard what he was saying, you really did.  It was hard to enjoy life when you see the world suffer.  But you didn’t understand why this was bothering him now?  He was Spider-Man!  He saved lives, helped people… he was one of the most charitable people you’ve ever known!  “Peter… darling… it’s okay,” you assured him, cupping his face, “you do so much for the world, you can alleviate some of the pain people feel… we can help, we can do something,”.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he looked you in the eyes.  “I know, I know, but…” he sniffed, pulling away from your touch, staring down at the silly Santa picture in his hands.  What happened to him?  He used to be so happy when he was younger… now… he just felt hopeless…  “I can’t stop bad things from happening… an entire galaxy and multiverse of heroes can’t stop bad things… what can I, one man, do?” he ranted, growling in frustration as he stood up to toss the picture back where it belonged.  He sighed again, the wave of anger passing.  “I can’t do anything…” he whispered, slinking back to his room.

 No more lives torn apart

That wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts

And everyone would have a friend

And right would always win

And love would never end

  Christmas Eve, less than twenty-four hours from the most wonderful day of the year, and Peter couldn’t be more depressed.  He drugged up the stairs with his tired feet, exhausted from work.  Damn, why wouldn't maintenance fix that stupid elevator already?  He peeled the red beanie off his head, his curly hair fluffing up from the static electricity as he reached the sixth floor.

“What the hell?” Peter called, seeing the long lines of people in the hall.  All of his neighbor's doors were open, hundreds of strangers were walking from apartment to apartment with plates of food and big glasses of hot cider.  Entire families were sitting on the floor, opening shiny new gifts and little stockings with their kids.

Peter fluidly moved around the crowds of people to get into his apartment, looking for you.  There were still tons of people in his home, lines of people going to the kitchen and back out to the hallway.

“Peter!” you called excitedly, waving your hand above your head from the kitchen, “over here!”. 

He quickly ran over to you, not expecting you to toss an apron onto his head.  “What is going on here?  Who are all these people?” he asked, tying the smock around his waist.

“They're friends,” you smiled, serving latkes to the people coming through the line, “here, take a ladle and serve the beef,”.  He followed orders, still really confused.  “I decided to contact Pepper and your neighbors, do some good this season,” you grinned, yelling over the crowds, “I told them what you said the other day and they wanted to help, so we organized a food and toy drive through Stark industries,”.

A wide smile split Peter’s chapped lips.  “You’re the best, you know that?  You really are,” he shouted, eagerly serving the line.

“Pepper even opened the old Stark tower as public housing!” Ned said, bringing over another pot of potatoes to May so she could continue cooking, “thousands of people will be sleeping and showering there!”

  Peter looked around the room, seeing all the smiling faces coming and going, really experiencing the holidays, possibly for the first time in years. He was so proud of his family, so thankful for them.  This… this is what he truly wanted for Christmas and it was another Hanukkah miracle!

 This is my grown-up Christmas list

This is my only lifelong wish

This is my grown-up Christmas list

____________________

TAGLIST

[svedone-writes]

it was always you | t.h. | year one, part two

pictures from the esquire china shoot and the man about town shoot, others are stock/public domain, moodboard created by me!

series masterlist

series summary: tom holland is your boy next door–well, technically, he’s the boy across the hall, but that’s not important. what isimportant is that you’re now in college, the perfect time to branch out and try something new. tom is the perfect way to do that: he’s attractive, funny, kind, caring–and unfortunately, not into you…or so you think.

chapter summary:  the aftermath of your confession. tom isn’t great at making good decisions.

warnings: mentioned underage alcohol usage, minor swearing

word count: 3k

author’s note: please read my recent psa about this series! in summary, parts going forward are going to be a lot shorter than the first one and “year one, part three” may be postponed a week. my psa gives a full explanation! also, someone asked about a tag list--since this series updates at the same time every week, i probably won’t do a taglist. however, in the future for blurbs/new series/whatever, i would definitely be open to one, so let me know if you’d like to be on that! 

anyway, enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! big thank you to those who have given me feedback so far :)

you woke up with a slightly pounding head. sunlight was poking through the curtains that were haphazardly pulled across the window. when the light met your barely-open eyes, you groaned in protest and fumbled for your phone to see what time it was.

right when you saw that it was noon, a knock sounded at your door. “____? you awake?” came tom’s muffled voice. the sound of his voice brought memories of the previous night rushing to the forefront of your brain: meeting henry, tom walking you home, and most embarrassingly, your drunken confession. “____, if you don’t answer the door i’m gonna think you’re dead and steal all your stuff.” you smiled at that despite the hollow ache in your chest—everything was about to be different between the two of you, and you weren’t ready to lose him completely. you figured that your relationship with tom would now be awkward and strained, and soon enough you two would grow part. it was almost too much to bear.

he knocked again. “alright, alright, i’m getting up,” you called back to him as you slowly shifted out of bed. standing up made your headache substantially worse, and it took all your effort to answer the door instead of just climbing back into bed.

when you finally opened the door, tom grinned before immediately looking concerned. “wow, no offense, but you look like shit.”

“thanks, tom, really appreciate that,” you whispered with your eyes closed in an effort to block out the fluorescent hall lights. “anyway, what did you wake me up for?”

he shuffled awkwardly. “uh, well first i just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“awful. next question.”

“and second…how much of last night do you remember? you were pretty drunk.”

you stilled. maybe this was your chance to pretend last night had never happened. but then again…lying to tom wouldn’t be much better—but at least you’d still have him. “not much, to be honest,” you finally said. “i remember getting to the party and meeting…henry, i think his name was? then i remember having a few shots, and from there my memory gets kind of fuzzy.”

tom’s shoulders drooped slightly. “oh. so you—you don’t remember me taking you home?”

why does he sound so sad? you shook your head, your heart already heavy with the lie. “no, sorry. but thank you for doing that.”

he nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “got it. well i…i’ll leave you to it, then.” he turned around to head back into his room. “hope you feel better,” he mumbled before his door clicked shut, leaving you to stand their confused and alone.

you moved back into your room and shut the door behind you. sleep sounded incredibly inviting, but it was already halfway through the day, and you had a few assignments that you needed to complete. after a quick shower, you brought your things into the floor lounge and began working. as you went through some of your assignments, you thought back to the conversation with tom—how he had immediately deflated once you lied and said you didn’t remember him taking you home. was tom that upset that you didn’t remember telling him how much you liked him? why? you reached a startling conclusion: perhaps tom did feel the same way about you. but that doesn’t matter much know, does it? you thought to yourself. he has a girlfriend.

about a half hour into your work, the door to the lounge slowly opened and tom poked his head in. “i thought you might be in here.” he said as he walked into the lounge all the way. his backpack was slung across his shoulder. “d’you mind if i sit with you?”

“of course not.” you replied. tom made his way over and plopped down in the seat across from you. immediately, you felt the guilt of your earlier lie resurfacing, making your chest draw tight. you were so caught up in the feeling that you almost didn’t notice the eye contact you were maintaining with tom—almost. he was looking at you, his chin resting on his hand, with a slightly pinched expression, like there was something he was dying to tell you but couldn’t quite figure out to say. it soon softened the longer you looked at each other, though, as if tom couldn’t bear to be upset with you for too long. a strange tension was beginning to build, not unlike the night he had asked you about your biggest fear and the two of you had almost kissed.

once again, the moment was broken by a buzzing phone—this time, however, it was yours. you quickly fumbled to check what it was. “sorry, it’s just henry.”

his once-soft expression hardened. “the guy from the party last night?” you nodded, and tom scoffed. “what does he want?”

“just asking to see how i’m feeling,” you answered distractedly as you typed out a response.

you: i’m doing fine, a bit of a headache but nothing major. you?

after a few moments he texted back.

henry: i’m fine. according to you i’m an alcoholic heavyweight, remember?

you laughed a little at that before setting your phone down and looking back at tom, who looked much more pissed off than he had been moments ago. “do you like him?” he bit out.

“wow, tom, so blunt,” you attempted to joke with him. once he didn’t laugh, you continued more seriously. “gosh, i don’t know, i just met him last night. i like to get to know people before i decide anything.” not that you had known tom for very long before becoming completely infatuated with him, but you’d never tell him that (while sober, at least). “he did seem like a really nice guy, though. really funny.”

“from what you remember.” he refused to make eye contact with you, instead looking over his textbook, which you could tell he wasn’t really reading.

“yes, tom, from what i remember.”

tom sighed and finally looked up at you again. “i’m sorry, it’s just that from an outside perspective he seems like a creep. but it is what it is.” tom returned to his textbook nonchalantly, trying to signal that the conversation was over.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows and waited for an explanation. tom continued reading silently, making it clear that he wasn’t going to give you one. “fine, then. how’s emma?” you asked, a little harsher than intended. “did she like the fact that you left her at a party to walk another girl home?”

tom snapped his textbook shut. “that’s really none of your business, is it?”

“then neither is henry!”

“that’s different.”

“how is it different, tom? god, friends aren’t supposed to act like this.” you started angrily putting your things away.

“oh, and how are they supposed to act then? enlighten me.” you definitely didn’t like his condescending tone. this entire argument was making you reconsider your entire friendship with tom—maybe it wasn’t as strong as you had thought. and maybe your infatuation with him was just that: infatuation.

but then you remembered all the times you had talked, whispering to each other in class or joking about anything and everything but always being able to have serious conversations about your hopes and dreams. you thought about the smiles he would give you, some blinding and some soft or understanding, and you deflated, much less angry than before. “i don’t really want to argue with you, tom. sorry i even said anything.” you grabbed your now packed bag and headed back to your room, resolving to do your homework there instead.

the next day, you were standing in the middle of your room, backpack slung over your shoulder. your usual sunday studying with tom would’ve started in about 5 minutes, but a few things were keeping you from just heading over to the lounge: first, there wasn’t a quiz this week in your calculus class because of your midterm the previous week. then there was your argument with tom…you had apologized, but he hadn’t. you weren’t even sure if he wanted to speak to you at the moment; for some unidentifiable reason, he was both angry and upset with you.

your train of thought was broken by a knocking at your door. quickly placing your backpack on the floor, you moved to open the door and were surprised at the sight of tom. “hey, i, uh,” he held up a bag of your favorite candy and some popcorn, plus a pack of your favorite drink. “i thought maybe since there’s not a quiz this week, we could watch a movie instead?” tom then smiled apologetically. “i also wanted to…well, i’m sorry for being such an ass lately.”

“that’s an understatement.” you flatly responded despite the smile on your face. tom winced before noticing your happy expression and quickly gave a shy smile. “that sounds lovely, tom.” you opened the door wider to allow him to come in. “by the way, where did you even find that candy? they don’t have it in any of the vending machines on campus.”

tom hopped up on your bed and settled in as he answered. “i walked to the grocery store. that’s where i got the drinks, too.”

you stopped in your tracks. “the grocery store is almost a half hour walk from campus.”

“and?”

“you walked that far to get me candy?”

he shrugged and replied, “it’s your favorite,” as if that explained everything behind it.

you sat beside him on your bed after grabbing your laptop from your bag. “well…thank you. no one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

tom simply shrugged again, happily munching on the popcorn he had brought while he waited for you to pick out a movie. you finally settled on one of your favorites. as it began playing, you realized just how bright your room’s lights were, and you huffed in annoyance before pausing the movie. “hold on, i gotta turn the light off.”

you started to shimmy off of the bed, but tom beat you to it. “don’t move, i got it.” smiling, you settled back into the bed and waited for him to turn the lights off and rejoin you before starting the movie again. as the movie began, you wrapped yourself up in your comforter. tom looked at you with a pout. “am i not allowed in the blanket?”

“nope,” you responded, popping the “p” loudly. “this is what you get for being a jerk to me yesterday.” tom pouted even harder, and you giggled at his expression until he started trying to wrestle the blanket from your grip. “hey!”

tom quickly moved your laptop off the bed so it wouldn’t be accidently knocked off. “you’ve brought this on yourself,” was all he said before doubling his efforts to rip the blanket away. you were breathless with laughter, just barely being able to fight off his attack and keeping the blanket wrapped around you. tom was grinning, too, and you wished you could stay in this moment forever, with both of you laughing and simply happy to spend time together. “____, if you don’t let me in the blanket, im gonna tickle you.”

“how do you know that i’m ticklish?”

“you told me during the second week of school.”

“wow, so you’d betray what i told you in confidence just to get the blanket?”

tom smiled, a devilish glint in his eyes, and threateningly raised his hands. “yup.” he then began his assault, his fingers dancing up and down your sides. the blanket fell from your body, but tom did nothing to stop his assault to grab it.

your laughter continued as you tried (and failed) to swat his hands away from your torso. “tom!” you managed to shout in between laughs. “you—are so—evil!” finally, you grasped his wrists and held them away triumphantly—until he flicked his hands and was suddenly pinning your wrists above your head, pushing you into laying down.

he was hovering just above you when he whispered, “am i still evil, love?” you could tell he meant it to come across as a playful mockery, but because he had whispered, it came out soft and gentle.

you lightly shook your head in response, all thoughts of the blanket and movie forgotten. your gaze slowly roamed over tom’s face and drank in just how vulnerable he looked. his hair, which was normally styled, was draped across his forehead, a few of his loose curls sticking to his forehead with sweat. his cheeks were red, and his chest was slightly heaving from exertion—and possibly the position you were currently in. you met his gaze again, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized his expression seemed to be pleading with you, like he was offering his heart in his hands and was asking you to never break it. his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, and before your mind could even remind you that tom had a girlfriend, he leaned down slowly until his lips just barely brushed yours, waiting for your permission. his nose was resting against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how soft this entire moment was. you were about to move up to meet his lips and—

—there was a loud thump on your door. tom released your wrists and jerked backward so fast he almost whacked his head on the wall. “____!” zendaya called from the hallway. “could you open the door? my hands are kind of full.”

you cleared your throat. “yeah, just a sec!” you hurriedly hopped down from your bed and closed your laptop before opening the door.

zendaya grinned. “hey, roomie!” she happily walked into the room but faltered once she saw tom sitting disheveled on your bed. “and tom. hi.”

“hi. sorry, i’ll uh—i’ll just leave you both to it, then.” tom awkwardly coughed and quickly left your room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you to squirm awkwardly under zendaya’s gaze.

“what just happened?” she set her things down and looked at you pointedly.

“well…” you launched into an explanation about the whole situation—the party on friday, your confession, how you lied to tom about what you remembered, the fight you had with him, until finally finishing with the situation she had walked into and the almost-kiss. “oh god, z,” your voice began to break as your eyes starting tearing up. “he has a girlfriend, and we almost kissed.” you started to cry, then, and zendaya wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and guided you to your shared futon. “i’m a shitty person, aren’t i?”

she grimaced. “well…yeah, it would, but the fact that it didn’t actually happen and that you recognize that it was bad helps a lot. did you reciprocate it at all?”

you thought for a moment about what had happened before shaking your head. “no. i thought about it, but then you got here.”

“thinking is a lot different than doing, but still…you probably shouldn’t have considered it. tom shouldn’t have put you in that situation either, though.”

“yeah, that makes sense,” you sniffled. your stomach was now twisting up with guilt, both at the fact that you had almost kissed someone in a committed relationship and that you had lied to tom. “should i tell his girlfriend?”

“oh, god no.” you laughed a bit at her immediate answer. “that’s up to tom, i think. but it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if you avoided them for a while.”

you nodded in agreement. “that would probably be best.” you both sat there for a while. zendaya slowly rubbed your arm in an attempt to comfort you as you tried your best to compose yourself. “you don’t really like tom, do you?”

she sighed. “i actually do like tom. i think he’s funny and kind, and we get along really well, but he’s still a little childish. he has a lot to learn, and i’m hoping he learned something today.”

“how are you so wise?” zendaya chuckled at that but offered no answer, instead standing up and stretching.

“c’mon, let’s go get some ice cream, and i’ll tell you about my totally boring weekend to take your mind off of it.” she offered you a hand to get up and you gratefully accepted, ready to put the entire mess behind you. all you could think about was tom and how confused you felt—did this mean that tom felt the same about you? would he break up with his girlfriend? but most of all you wondered that even if he did like you back, would it be worth it to be with someone that had almost cheated on their partner?

the next morning, you sat on your bed, contemplating what you were going to do about the calculus situation—you didn’t really want to see tom, but you also didn’t want to miss lecture. beyond that, you also weren’t sure if you wanted to go to class at all. you finally caved to that thought and decided it was high time for a mental health day; after all, you had just finished your midterms and did fine on all of them, so you figured you deserved it.

having finally arrived at a decision, you laid back down and closed your eyes to get a few more hours of sleep in. right before you drifted off, you resolved that at the next lecture, you would arrive at the last possible minute and take the next open seat—as long as it wasn’t next to tom. you did promise yourself, though, that you wouldn’t avoid him forever. just until you figured out how you felt about the whole situation: tom, your feelings for him, his (possible) feelings for you, and henry, whom you’d been texting on and off since the party.

but who knew how long all of that would take, anyway.

 is tom really a jerk or just stupid? how will henry fit into all this? why won’t the reader just tell tom she likes him (well, at least while sober this time)? let me know what you think! i would love feedback on anything--my writing style, the plot, what you predict will happen in the future of this story, anything!

a note on tom’s behavior: obviously, the tom we know is 23 years old and has a lot of experience in professional environments. this tom, however, is 18 and has little to none of the same experience. 

[sapphicparker]

Fell from the sky into my lap // peppermay

Summary: "May Parker, will do you the honor of being my fake girlfriend?” She hold out her hand. May smiles.“Yes, I do, Pepper.” May intertwines their hands together. (AKA fake dating/college au)

Words: 21,231 | Other ships: SteveTony & Yelenat

Warnings: SMUT

(Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921644)

May Parker rarely lies but when she does, let’s just say she’s the mighty, great leader and sole creator of the ‘lying is totally okay and cool’ club. They even have jackets, leather ones to be exact. She doesn’t do it out of habit or force, it just happens and she, eventually, deals with the consequences later. The short list of lies she’s ever told aren’t as catastrophic, most of them range from lying about not doing homework to studying for an important exam, even making up an excuse not to go out. Even telling her boyfriend she was home sick when in reality she was cheating on him. 

Okay, maybe the last one is a bit much, but in her defense, they were already broken up and she definitely didn’t think he would come back a few hours after their final fight to get his boxes of shit while seeing her go down on some girl she met at the bar right after their fight. The biggest lie she has told was to her parents, who she hasn’t seen in a couple months, is that she’s bringing someone home for winter break.

Before the inevitable break-up;

Honestly before the fight, her and Ben were doing great. They met at one of the bars, Carter’s, right down the block by campus. Did their usual routine, two or three beers, depending on what kind of day they had. He would talk about football and courses he was taking, but mostly about football. May honest to god tried to pay attention but that night, her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere else like finding an engagement ring in a drawer. She shuddered at the thought of marriage, not that she liked it, she did, it’s a huge commitment that she was in no way, shape, or form ready for it.

She grabbed her beer and chugged it as Ben began to about classes and bullshit drama that somehow crossed his path during the day. After an hour or two they went back to May’s place, put on Netflix and did some homework.

To this day May still silently thanks god everyday that meeting Ben wasn’t set up by some dating app but instead by one of their mutual friends. She still remembers it like it was yesterday. Carter’s bar is not the most spacious or extravagant looking bar, it still has it’s charm and outside good looks. The inside however smelled like aged old liquor and a weird sense of mildew. Truly comforting in its own weird way.

As for Ben, he’s just like any ordinary tall, brunette, college football player who is somehow not a pretentious douchebag. Him and May were friends at first, good friends even. Ben needed a place to stay for awhile, so she let him room with her. Awhile turned into weeks, which turned into a couple months, and then into him moving into his own place…down the hall from her.

May thought it was nice seeing him every time she had to do laundry or even throw out the trash, sometimes he would get both of their mail so she wouldn’t have to trudge down the flight of stairs to get it. May knew the first time she realized she liked Ben was when he came over for their annual Friday movie night. Usually, she was the one to remind him but, this time he remembered, it was a tiny thing that made her stomach do the weird butterfly thing. He even brought over Chinese food takeout and a cheap bottle of wine.

A couple weeks down the road they kissed and it was nice and exciting and new. They would wait for each other after classes, get some drinks and study together. May would go to his practices and games, cheer him on, even wear his jersey. After games they would get ice cream, it didn’t matter if he won or lost, or if it rained or shined, they would go.

They lasted around eleven months or a year, May honestly doesn’t remember, and it was bad on her part, actually it’s both of their fault. May told Ben she found the ring, he asked her if she wanted to marry him, she said no. May explained to him why she didn’t want to, that she wasn’t looking for that kind of commitment right now and she definitely didn’t want to be tied down. She was still young, she wanted to live more, worry less.

Ben didn’t like that, he got all defensive, arguing back about some bullshit leading him on, so what did May do? She rolled her eyes, told him she’s going out and to pack his shit and leave. Next morning, Ben comes home to get his things and sees May having sex with someone. He quickly shuts the door and never returns. May still has his boxes stacked in the hallway closet, she hasn’t opened the door since.

Flash forward to now. May’s currently very single and lonely at this place and time. She’s wearing an old ACDC shirt that she “borrowed” from Carol and a pair of plaid pajama shorts while sitting on an old maroon couch drinking wine as season six of Great British Bake Off plays in the background. Yeah, that little fling she had with that bar girl, she doesn’t remember her name, it sounded like that coffee company, Folgers. May tilts her head trying to remember the name, it takes her a moment until it comes back to her, like someone flicked on the light switch. She snap her fingers. Felicia, that’s it.

May pours more wine into her glass as she narrows down possible fake boyfriend, or girlfriend options. Separating them into two columns; boys slash girls, and jotting down basically everyone she knows. Boys; Steve, Quentin, and Bruce. Girls; Carol, Jane, and Maria.

She takes sip of her wine before immediately crossing out the lists and throwing the notepad onto the adjacent coffee table. May lets out a heavy sigh and lays her head back on the couch, she feels entirely overwhelmed and more stressed than when she took midterms. It’s at this moment her black cat, Milo, jumps onto the couch and purrs. He rubs his head on her arm and looks up with his black eyes, tilting his head, almost as if he can sense something is wrong. May gently scratches his cheek.

“It’s okay, buddy. Everything is fine,” she say to him as if he can somehow understand and magically talk back to her. He immediately jumps into May’s lap, curling up into a ball. This has to be some kind of witchcraft, she thinks to herself. Not that black cats are often associated with witches, they are, but Milo is special in his own way.

A groan slips out of her mouth when she realizes she has a, now, sleeping cat on her lap and she absolutely refuses to wake him up. That’s the second rule you have to follow when you get a pet, owner shall not move when said pet is sleeping on you. Right on top of feeding your pet and loving them unconditionally.

Mumbling ‘fuck it’ under her breath, May reaches for the tv remote and turns the volume up. In this particular episode of Great British Bake Off, the bakers are making a delicate spongecake. May has never in her life wanted spongecake more than she does right now. Grabbing her phone from the side table, May unlocks it and opens the notes app. Typing, GET SPONGECAKE, in all caps to let her future self know that it’s important to get it when she eventually leaves the comfort of her bed to do grocery shopping tomorrow morning.

She adds in the following; eggs, almond milk, coffee, coffee creamer, peaches, strawberries, mashed potatoes, box of pasta (x2), White bread, plums, chocolate and vanilla ice cream.

Satisfied with her list, she puts the phone down only to pick it up again when it rings. The name ‘Tony’ with the black heart emoji next to it flashes along with a horrible selfie of him. May’s finger slides over the answer and she puts him on speaker, holding the phone in her hand.

“What do you want you, gremlin,” May says annoyingly as she tries to focus on the tv, taking a sip of wine.

“Well, hello to you too, what’s up?”

May rolls her eyes. “You called me, genius.”

Tony lets out a gasp. “Yes, yes I did. My mistake.” He takes a breath before continuing. “Right, what are your plans for winter break?”

“I’m unfortunately going home, remember? Or did you completely forget what we talked about this morning at the coffee shop.”

“I didn’t forget.” May could hear the exaggeration in his voice.

“Yeah, sure you did,” May says as she raises an eyebrow at one of the contestants forming an elaborate cake that might possibly take up all the baking time.

Tony scoffs and May’s sure he’s shaking his head. “Do you or do you not want to come back with me for winter break, instead of going back home?”

“That’s sweet, Tones, but I already told my folks I’m coming back and that I’m bringing someone.” She mumbles the last part, hoping he doesn’t hear it.

“I’m sorry, what was the last part?”

May groans. Damn bastard has ears like a goddamn hawk.

She lets out a sigh, “I told my parents that I was bringing someone home for break. I’m pretty sure they think it’s Ben, they don’t know that we broke up, so they’ll find out when I come home.”

“You really need to stop lying about things, May. I know sometimes you can control it, but in situations like this you really shouldn’t.”

May pinches the bridge of her nose, “if you’re going to lecture me, please wait at least 24 hours before doing so.”

“Fine, at least tell me who you’re bringing?”

She pauses and that seems to be a good enough answer for Tony.

“Are you serious? Winter break is literally in a few days and you don’t know!” Tony exclaims over the phone loudly and May lowers the volume a tad bit.

“I’ll figure it out, I always do,” May confidently says, knowing damn well, she have no clue what to do.

“I don’t believe you but, alright. I’m coming over for lunch tomorrow since Steve’s taking his last midterm, sound good?”

“Fantastic. See you then,” May says before Tony mumbles out a ‘bye, love you’

May casually tosses her phone onto the side table, not really caring whether or not it dies overnight, or mysterious lives thanks to the new and improved battery life span. Eventually she finishes the episode, the credits begin to roll when Milo stirs in her lap. He turns his body facing her, a small meow echos throughout the room along with the Great British Bake Off song credits.

“Did you have a nice nap?” she says softly, rubbing her nose against his fur, he purrs in agreement. “Yeah, I bet you did, buddy.” Shutting Netflix off, May carefully lifts Milo off her lap and cradles him in her arms as she simultaneously grabs her phone.

Once in the bedroom, May puts Milo down on the bed, he immediately curls up at the end of it. Plugging in her phone and setting it down on the bedside table, she grabs the blankets and comforter, shuffles a couple times before finding a comfortable position and falls asleep.

It’s next morning when she hears her phone ringtone blaring throughout her room. May’s eyes are still closed when she reaches over, answering it without a care in the world who could be calling her this early in the morning.

“Hello?” She mumbles, her voice still horse and clouded.

“I’m here with coffee, let me in.” It’s Tony because of course it is.

May lets out a groan, she hangs up, and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She trudges to the door, unlocking it, and welcomes Tony in. She lets out a yawn as she stares at the brunette man now standing in her kitchen.

“You know, you could be nicer in the morning. I did bring you coffee.” Tony hands her an ice coffee. May takes a sip and a small smile appears on her face. She sticks her tongue out at him before sitting on the couch, one leg under the other.

“Why are you here? I thought we were meeting for lunch, not breakfast,” May calls out to Tony as he’s lazily pouring cat food into Milo’s dish, some of it tumbles out of it and onto the floor, Tony shamelessly kicks it under the fridge. Milo appears in front of him and Tony lets out a gasp, clenching his chest.

“Jesus christ, Milo!”

May lets out a loud laugh and Tony stares at her, completely flabbergasted that she would laugh at his pain. May lets out a breath, “I should’ve warned you, he tends to do that when he gets food.”

“You think!” Tony exclaims as he shakes his head. He kneels down to scratch Milo’s head, the black cat lets out a small meow before digging into his breakfast.

“I’m telling you, he belongs to witches or something.” Tony shakes his head and smiles at Milo before standing back up and grabs his coffee. May looks up at him when he enters the living room, Tony jumps onto the couch and sits crisscross, staring at her.

“What?” She asks questionably.

“Did you think about who you’re bringing home yet? You still have time to change your mind and come back with me.”

May immediately lets out a groan, she hoped Tony would have forgot it by now but, no. He can remember what they talked about yesterday but he can’t remember his goddamn anniversary.

“Not yet,” May pauses to take drink the rest of her coffee, occasionally slurping it, causing an annoying sound to echo in the room. Tony rolls his eyes at her childlike behavior. “And, no to coming with you. As much as I love Jarvis’ cooking, I promised I would go home for break.”

Tony nods his head. “I’ll bring you leftovers but you might not get it with how much Steve eats.” May chuckles.

“That’s alright, i’ll take my chances. I just need to find someone who will actually go along with it.” A sigh escapes May’s lips.

Tony thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers, breaking May’s train of thought, not that she was thinking about anything in the moment anyway.

“What?” She asks.

“I think I know someone, wait do you want male or female?”

May stares at him, one of her scary death stares that Tony hates. He immediately puts his hands up. “Alright, jeez. Just stop looking at me like that. God, you’re worse than Milo.”

It’s nighttime and May is sitting uncomfortably in a fancy restaurant, she checks her watch again for the third time that night. Her date, who Tony set her up with, was fifty minutes late and she felt awful for the poor waitress who kept coming up to her asking for her order. May sighs as she drinks the remaining wine in her glass, she gestures towards the waitress for another bottle, dear god she’s going to need it. The waitress, Pepper is her name, leaves the bottle on the table.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? I’m sure bread and wine isn’t the most suitable meal.”

May reads the menu again. “You’re right. You know what? I think I’ll have the ravioli.”

“Excellent choice, I’ll bring that out for you shortly.” Pepper smiles.

May bites the inside of her cheek. “Please take your time, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone else.” She gestures towards the empty seat in front of her.

Pepper’s lips curl up into her mouth, she looks around the restaurant before leaning down to May’s height, “I’ll throw in a free desert, just for you.”

The glass of wine stills in May’s hand, the red liquid swooshes around in it. She turns to look at Pepper, her tongue poking out to wet her lips. “Why, thank you.”

Pepper walks away towards the kitchen and May can’t help but stare at her as she does. Her line of sight is interrupted by her phone ringing. Without even reading the I.D, May already knows who it is.

“Hi Tony,” she grumbles into the phone.

“Hi darling, so tell me everything, how is he? Great?”

May’s jaw clenches, she doesn’t want to cause a scene in this very nice restaurant. “Well, darling,” she imitates Tony’s tone, “it’s been an hour and I’m sitting here alone in this fucking expensive ass place.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Stark.”

“But I- I don’t understand. He was actually excited for it, I don’t know why,” Tony rambles on and May isn’t listening to a word he’s saying because her eyes are flowing over to Pepper talking to customers.

“May? You still there?”

She lets out a cough, “yeah, I’m still here. I’m getting dinner for one.”

“Oh, okay, I was just gonna come to you but if you’re good,” Tony’s voice trails off as May stares at Pepper who’s carrying a tray of food over one shoulder and placing it down onto the serving table. She bends down to grab extra napkins and forks and May can’t help but advert her eyes down to Pepper’s body. Tight black jeans do wonders for everyone.

“Parker!” Tony yells out. May does a double-take and blinks repeatedly. “Jesus christ, what the hell! I’ve been talking for two minutes without an interruption.”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” May says as her face becomes flushed.

“Distracted from?” Tony coerces out.

“There’s a really cute waitress who’s working tonight,” May whispers into the phone and Tony reacts how anyone would, by letting out an excited scream.

“No way! Steve! May’s crushing on the waitress,” Tony says excitedly. In the background May can hear Steve say ‘are you serious, Tony hang up! Let her get back to the date.’ Tony shushes him.

“Goodbye, Tony,” May hangs up the phone as Tony yells excuses to not hang up.

May’s putting her phone back into her bag when Pepper is walking towards her with dinner. She places it in front of her. May takes a breath. “This looks great, thank you.” A genuine smile flashes across her face.

“Enjoy, I’ll just be over here if you need anything.” Pepper smiles and nods her head in the direction where she’ll be. She begins to walk away when May grabs her forearm, stopping in her step.

“Please, sit,” May gestures towards the empty seat in front of her. Pepper looks around the restaurant, it’s late and nearly empty with a few stragglers and the clean up crew’s about to start coming in. Pepper immediately sits down and loosens her tie, pulling it down a few inches before unbuttoning her collar.

May digs into her ravioli, it tastes so delicate and warm, and the sauce is great, a mix of red and vodka sauce. It might be one of May’s new favorite dishes. “So do you like being a waitress?”

Pepper chuckles, “Is this how you always begin conversations?” She grabs a water pitcher from a nearby empty table and fills up a glass, nearly downs the whole glass and lets out a breath. May smiles before taking another bite. “Not always but I thought I would give it a shot.”

A small smirk appears on Pepper’s face, “I just need this job to help pay for college. It’s only a couple days a week so it’s not all bad.” May hums in agreement and takes a sip of wine.

“Can I be honest for a second.” May nods her head. “Who the fuck stood you up tonight?” May lets out a loud cackle. She covers her mouth with her hand to subdue her laughter. Pepper stares at her, for the first time that night she actually really looks at her. She notices how May gets crinkles in the corner of her eyes when she laughs really loud. She notices her dimples rise up when she grins a certain way. She notices how her brown eyes look lighter, more warmer in the light. She notices how her cheeks get more flushed, a light shade of pink. And lastly, Pepper notices how her heart is beating like a drum in her chest and how her palms are suddenly clammy, and how she wants May to feel like this every day of the week.

Once May has calmed down, she wipes an invisible tear from her eye and drinks the remaining wine in her glass. “Thank you, I needed a good laugh.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll let you finish your meal and I’ll bring dessert out,” Pepper says as she stands up from the table.

“Hopefully for two?”

“Absolutely,” Pepper walks away towards the remaining stragglers, talking to them. May sighs contently, she suddenly feels very warm and a tad nauseous.

Ten minutes pass by and May eats half of her ravioli dish. She leans back in her chair, deciding she’s definitely bringing leftovers home. Pepper exits the kitchen carrying a plate of dessert. Once in front of May, she places it on the table. “Chocolate mousse cake with vanilla ice cream on top.”

May licks her lips. “Looks great, shall we?”

“We shall,” Pepper hands May a spoon and they dig in. It’s so rich and creamy and delicious. Once dessert is devoured by the two of them, Pepper grabs a take-out container and puts May’s leftovers in it, sealing it in a brown paper bag. May hands Pepper her card for the check, after a brief moment she comes back with it.

“Thank you. I hope the rest of your night is lovely.”

May smiles, “Yours too.” She pauses for a second, her breath catches in her throat. “When do you get off work?”

Pepper stares at her, mouth agape, and she looks at her watch. “My shift ended ten minutes ago.” She chuckles awkwardly, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

May has her coat on, her bag slung over her shoulder and leftovers in hand. She turns to look at Pepper, “You wanna get out of here?”

Pepper nods her head, “yes, yes. Let me get my things.”

May watches Pepper run off to get her things, as she does, she quickly texts Tony. No, she texts Steve because he’s more likely to read it. She texts him; ‘I know Tony won’t respond so I’m telling you to tell him to not come over in the morning for breakfast.’ Seconds later Steve replies, ‘will do’ with the thumbs up emoji, followed by, ‘late night? And wink emoji.’ May responses back with the middle finger emoji and once she does Pepper is at her side. She puts her phone in her bag and they’re out the door.

The minute they’re back in May’s apartment, May has Pepper pressed against the door. They shuffle their jackets off, their bags land on the hardwood floor with a thud. Peppers arms are around May’s waist, pulling her closer. She presses her soft lips onto May’s, they move in sync, letting out breathy moans before Pepper slides her tongue into May’s mouth, deepening the kiss. May grabs Pepper by her neck, pulling her closer until the silky fabric of May’s dress rubs against her now, slightly unbuttoned shirt. Pepper shivers at the touch of it, small goosebumps rise on her exposed skin. They pull away for a second, both chests heaving and feeling hot.

“Bedroom?”

“Definitely.”

It’s early in the morning when May wakes up, she turns her head to look at the alarm clock, instantly rolling her eyes when she sees that it reads exactly eight a.m. She wipes the sleep out of her eyes before rubbing her bare shoulders and reaches down to the floor, grabbing a white t-shirt and throws it over her naked torso. It’s not perfect, there’s a small coffee stain on it, but she doesn’t care because Pepper is still in bed.

May carefully reaches over to move a blonde strand out Pepper’s eyes before placing a kiss on her forehead and quietly gets up to make some coffee and breakfast. She hears the pitter-patter of Milo behind her as she enters the kitchen. As the coffee machine powers up, May gives Milo his breakfast, he lets out a soft meow as if he’s saying thank you. May ponders for a moment deciding on what to make for breakfast, she opens the fridge to see it almost bare and empty. She lets out a groan when realizing she got held up with Tony and forgot to go grocery shopping. She settles on making French toast, making a couple slices and topping it with powered sugar and syrup. The coffee machine lets out a beep and she pours the dark, warm liquid into two mugs, adding two spoonfuls of sugar and an insane amount of coffee creamer. May lets out a content sigh when she takes a sip, it’s perfect.

Pepper wakes up as sunlight shines through the window, her skin feels warm and soft and golden. She reaches over to check the time on her phone, it reads eight-thirty along with text messages from a group chat. She stretches a hand out to feel a cold spot, her bottom lip pokes out. She wanted to wrap her arms around May and thank her for making her feel like she escalated to another world, for feeling like she saw the moon and stars and everything beyond.

Pepper grabs a discarded hoodie that was on a nearby chair and throws it over her, lifting up her blonde locks that got stuck under the neck hole. The smell of French toast leads her to the kitchen, where she quietly watched May sit on the counter sipping her coffee while watching tv. May looks up from her coffee and sees Pepper, her eyes light up.

“Morning! I made breakfast and coffee.”

Pepper swears she could stay here forever, she could get use to this. May hands her the other coffee mug and Pepper doesn’t miss the cute look on May’s face when she takes a sip of her black coffee.

“I’m not even going to ask about that,” May’s eyes advert towards the mug in Pepper’s hand. Pepper nods her head. “Good, cause that’ll be up for debate later or another day.” She takes another sip of coffee.

“I forgot to go grocery shopping so I made French toast.”

Pepper smiles. “It smells wonderful. I haven’t had French toast in forever.” She cuts a piece off, dips it in syrup, and takes a bite. She gives May a thumbs up as continues to devour the breakfast food. May finished her remaining piece of French toast a few minutes before Pepper came into the kitchen, she sits quietly drinking her coffee as Pepper eats. May smirks to herself, god knows she worked up an appetite last night.

Once Pepper is done eating, she looks up at May, silently hating that she has the height advantage now that she’s on the counter. She places her hands on May’s thighs. “You have a little,” May begins before licking her thumb and wiping off some powder sugar at the corner of Pepper’s lip, “there. All good.”

“God, you’re so cute,” Pepper breathes out before kissing May. Her hands slide up her torso towards May’s face where she cups her cheeks, her thumbs comfortably resting on her cheekbones as she gently caresses her soft skin. May smiles into the kiss, she feels lightweight, like she’s floating on a cloud. It’s soft when Pepper kisses May, she grabs Pepper’s waist pulling her in between her thighs. She holds onto her waist as she wraps her legs around Pepper's.

Pepper’s tongue darts into May’s mouth as she lets out a low moan, a hint of heat radiating off both of them. Pepper pulls away for a moment, a pout immediately forms on May’s face. Pepper chuckles as she takes off the hoodie, she’s bare underneath except for her underwear and May bites her lip. Pepper lets out a gasp when May’s cold hands touch her, the hair on her arms stick up slightly as she moves her hands towards Pepper’s neck. Her hands remain still on Pepper’s chin, “if you’re cold, I can warm you up in no time.” May pulls Pepper into a kiss and they return to their former position. May’s about to take off her shirt when there’s a knock at the door.

“Who the fuck is that?” May growls as she jumps off the counter and darts towards the door. The door is open in a flash and May is annoyed at the sight in front of her. Of course, it's Tony, with a smile on his face while Steve is daunting an ‘i’m sorry’ look. May is looking at them both with an expression that could make a child cry.

“Go away,” she practically yells at them.

Steve sighs, “I’m sorry, you know how he gets. I tried my best to make him stay home.”

May rests a hand on her hip. “Yeah, that worked out pretty well, huh Steve. Did you not try sex?”

Tony perks up at the mention of sex, “Oh, you bet he did.” He mouths the word ‘twice’ and holds up two fingers, Steve rolls his eyes. May shakes her head knowing there’s no way they’re not just going to stand in the hallway all day, she moves out of the way to let the boys in.

“Put the hoodie back on, we’ve got company,” May says annoyingly as she makes her way back into the kitchen. She begins to put the dishes into the sink when Tony lets out a shriek, almost making May drop a mug.

“Shut up, Pepper!”

“Hi Tony.”

Tony does a double-take, looking at May then Pepper, then May again before letting out a gasp. “Oh my god.”

Steve gently pushes Tony into a seat on the couch, letting him absorb everything his genius brain can handle, before helping May in the kitchen. He’s handing her various plates and forks around the kitchen, eventually getting distracted by Milo who was now sitting on the counter, meowing at Steve to pet him. He happily obliges, a smile plastered across his face as he does.

“Okay! I’m good,” Tony yells as he claps his hands together.

Pepper shakes her head, she looks over his shoulder to see May making another pot of coffee. It only takes a few seconds before May is looking back at Pepper, she mouths an ‘i’m sorry’ with a pouty look. Pepper shrugs before mouthing back, ‘it’s okay’ and blows a kiss. May blushes.

“So how did you two meet?” Tony says as he rests his arm on the couch, leaning closer to Pepper. May is in the living room now, changing the tv channel on the remote to a Will & Grace marathon. She falls into Pepper’s lap, earning a giggle from the blonde and blocks Tony’s view of her. Steve carefully drops Milo into Tony’s lap, he stares at the black cat, still not over yesterday’s incident of scaring him to death. Milo looks at him before jumping down and walking over to Steve, who sat in the corner loveseat. Milo jumps into his lap and comfortably lays down.

Steve smiled, his dimples coming into play as Tony shared a look of jealousy at him. He let out a scoff before bringing his attention back to May and Pepper. Tony let out a cough. “Can I get an answer or is this going to be a bigger mystery than finding out if an actress is gay or not?”

May scoffs, “First of all, we always find out. Second, we met last night at the restaurant. Remember, your guy didn’t show up? Pepper was the waitress.” Tony’s face lit up like a little kid on Christmas. Pepper chuckled as she shook her head. God, Tony was one of a kind, there was certainly no one in the world like him.

“How did it go?” Tony asks as he sits in a criss-cross position, hands clasped together with his chin resting in them. A literal child.

“It was going well until you showed up,” May blurts out as Pepper shushed her. May sighs. “It’s very good.” Pepper rubs her arm up and down May’s in a comforting manner, already feeling how tense and annoyed she is. Something she’ll definitely have to get used too.

Steve snaps his fingers causing everyone to look at him, including Milo who raised a paw at him. “Why don’t you ask Pepper to come home with you for winter break? You said you were bringing someone. Well, here you go.” May looks at Steve with an expression he can’t read, nor understand. She side eyes Pepper, she was definitely not in the position to ask Pepper to come home with her to meet her family. They just met last night and May was in no way ready for her to get caught up in her bullshit, she wanted Pepper to be hers and only hers. She didn’t want her to be a victim to the chaos her family causes, May just wanted to stay in the little happy bubble with her. But eventually the bubble pops and you have to make a new one, oh, what the hell could go wrong.

“What’s he talking about?” Pepper asks, a wave of concern flashes across her faces. May sighs.

“I wasn’t even going to bring it up, Steven,” May angrily says as she looks at Steve, his face is filled with regret the moment May says his full name. He immediately looks down at Milo, petting him softly as he licks Steve’s hand.

“I told my parents I was bringing someone home for winter break, so I told Tony I just need to find someone to fake date until it’s over, it’s only for two days. I was planning on cutting the reunion special early anyway.” Pepper nods her head, taking everything in.

“Okay,” Pepper says.

May raises an eyebrow, “okay what?”

“I’ll do it, I’ll come with you. I’m not doing anything for break. My parents are going to some ski resort upstate. Plus, I’m an only child.”

May hesitates for a moment, her mouth agape. For once, she’s utterly speechless. Her mouth curls up into her mouth, “you know what? Fuck it. Yes.”

Pepper grins, “Let’s make it official. May Parker, will do you the honor of being my fake girlfriend?” She hold out her hand. May smiles.

“Yes, I do, Pepper.” May intertwines their hands together. They stare at one another and Pepper looks at May like she holds all the secrets to the universe and wants to discover all of them, including the hidden ones. It’s no secret May’s a tad bit scared of commitment, but she’s looking at Pepper as if all the stars and moon combined into one single element. It’s barely been twenty-four hours and she knows she wants Pepper in her life.

It’s the day before they head to May’s family home and May is immediately regretting even going. She hasn’t packed yet, and she can’t bring Milo with them because her dad is severely allergic to cats. May rolls her eyes for the third time, Pepper has counted so far, sitting across the island table as May talks to her mother on the phone. May put her on speakerphone so Pepper could hear what the devil incarnated sounds like before meeting her in person.

May mouths ‘blah, blah, blah’ as her mother goes on and on about her cousin getting remarried again. She imitates Darth Vader using the force to choke herself until her mother calls her name.

“May”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening to me or are you drowning me out by staring at the tv screen?”

May lets out a cough, “no, i’m totally listening. You were talking about Natasha getting remarried.”

“Yes! I can’t believe she’s already getting remarried after divorcing Matthew last year!” May’s mother exclaims. May could hear the annoyance through the phone.

“Well, some people move on fast and I think this is good for Nat, you know how she can be,” May says genuinely, she always defends Natasha.

“I just don’t understand,” her mother trails off and May looks at Pepper. She’s caressing Milo as he’s lies down on the counter, his eyes are closed and purring softly.

“Your dad said you’re bringing someone with you? Is it Ben? I’ve missed him, how is he?” And just like that, May’s entire demeanor is changed, Pepper immediately stops petting Milo to look at May.

“Oh, um, yeah i’m bringing someone but it’s not Ben. We broke up,” May says carefully, almost like she’s stepping on eggshells, one wrong move and it’ll break.

“Oh no, what happened? He was so sweet, May.”

May ran a hand through her brown locks, she pulled on the ends. “I don’t really remember, mom. Listen, I gotta go, I have to start packing.”

“Okay, sweetie. Remember to bring sweaters! It’s cold here!” May hangs up and lets out a heavy sigh as she crosses her arms on the counter, resting her head in them. Pepper is behind her, rubbing her shoulders in a comforting manner, she places a kiss to her hair. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

May lifts her head up and turns to face Pepper, she blows a raspberry. “You really think so? I mean, what you heard was only the beginning of it. We don’t even have to go, we can just stay here or even go to Tony’s.”

Pepper shakes her head, “there’s no way you can get out of this, you promised and you’re going to fulfill it.”

May lets out a groan and crosses her arms over her chest, “fine but you’re helping me pack.” She grabs Pepper’s arm and drags her to the bedroom.

“I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

They haven’t gotten on the plane yet and May is already dreading this. She hasn’t even had her coffee yet, and it was definitely killing her mood. Steve, the ever so sweetheart, drove the two of them to the airport at the ass crack of dawn. He was already out on his morning run before picking them up and was in the most perky, happiest, mood ever. In the car ride to the airport, Steve was telling them that he let Tony sleep in, knowing how much of a little shit he’s going to be when Steve eventually wakes him up to get on the road to his parents house later in the day.

May’s knee bounced up and down as she waited for their flight to be called, she was getting impatient as she laid her head back on the chair, eyes closed. A sudden cough made May open her eyes, she looked up and saw Pepper standing in front of her, holding two hot cups of coffee. May perked up, her eyes widened. Pepper outstretched May’s cup, their hands touched briefly when May grabbed it. She took a sip and let out a heavenly sigh. Pepper smiled at her as she took a sip of her own, sitting down next to her.

“When do you think our flight will be-”

“Flight 702 to New Hampshire is now boarding,” the announcer yells in a horrible, yet mildly disgusted, tone.

“Never mind,” Pepper chuckles as both of them stand and grab their carry ons . On the plane, they have a row to their selves, Pepper gives May the window seat. It’s a short flight and May falls asleep the entire time, her head resting on Pepper’s shoulder. Pepper doesn’t sleep, she’s too busy reading the book she brought with her and making sure May’s okay. She doesn’t tell May that two people told her they were a cute couple, Pepper smiled and thanked them for their kind words.

May wakes up when the plane touches down on the runway, she looks out the window to see that it’s snowing, she lets out an inaudible groan and turns to see Pepper talking to the flight attendant about the weather. Their conversation ends when she announces they can start exiting the plane.

“Did I sleep the whole flight? I’m sorry.”

Pepper pushes a strand of May’s hair behind her ear, “It’s okay, you were tired. Everyone heard you snoring.” May gasps, “I don’t snore!” Pepper lets out a chuckle as she grabs her bags in one hand and May’s in the other. May smiles.

Natasha is waiting outside the airport for them and May’s entire mood is lightened. She pulls May into a hug and ushers them into her car, instantly cranking the heat up before turning to Pepper, in the backseat. She holds her hand out, “i’m Natasha, May’s favorite cousin.” Pepper shakes her hand. “Very nice to meet you, Natasha.” Natasha smiles and pulls out of her spot and starts driving to their destination, the radio is playing soft music on low.

“Mom told me you’re getting remarried?” May questions once their silence got enough. Natasha smiles and holds out her left hand, the diamond on her finger isn’t big, it’s small, wrapped around a silver band, and it’s just perfect for her. “It’s so simple, I love it,” May says happily as she watches Natasha take another look at it before using said hand to turn on the blinker, making a right turn.

“Do I even want to know who gave it to you?” May says curiously.

A hint of blush appears on Natasha’s face, she clears her throat, “guess.”

May lets out a heavy sigh, “are you kidding me? I haven’t seen you in so long and you’re making me guess! Can you believe this Pep?” May turns in her seat to look at Pepper who pauses for a second, “Is it a woman?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything which essentially means yes, and May lets out a gasp. She repeatedly claps her hands in excitement, “Oh my god yes!” Natasha grins.

“How did you know?” Natasha asks into the rearview mirror, her undivided attention on Pepper. Pepper smiles and she leans forward, resting her arms on her knees. “You look happier, and the ring is simple, yet elegant. It’s not drawing a lot of attention, it’s just right. Plus, you should have cleaned out your car before picking us up because there’s a lace bra back here.”

May laughs loudly as Natasha mumbles ‘fuck’ under her breath. She puts the car into park once they pull into a driveway. May lets out out a deep breath. “Do mom and dad know?

Natasha shakes her head, “not yet. She’s coming over soon. I can’t wait for you to meet her May. You too, Pepper. You’re gonna love her.” May smiles. In all her years she’s known Natasha, she’s never once been this excited for May to meet someone. She’s met her former husband, Matthew, but only on rare occasions. Natasha was never a very open person with her relationship, so this was all new to May, and she likes it. She likes it when Natasha is openly accepting and vulnerable, showing her true colors to people she loves dearly. May can see it in her eyes, the way she talks about her fiancée is so soft and unique, you can see how in love she is. May reaches over the cupholders to pull Natasha into a hug, she instinctively wraps her arms around the smaller woman, burying her head into her shoulder.

“You know I love you,” May mumbles. Natasha smiles into her shoulder, slowly swaying her back and forth. “Of course I do, you dork.” Natasha releases May from her embrace and they exit the car. The snow is coming down hard as they stand outside the front door of May’s parents house. May exhales a shaky breath as Pepper grabs her hand and rubs her knuckles softly.

“You know, we can just run back to the car and get a hotel?”

Natasha gives her a look, “you know we can’t do that. Stop trying to run away.” She opens the front door and the three of them are instantly greeted by warm air and the sound of voices echoing throughout the house. May immediately leads Pepper up the stairs to her former room, the loft a.k.a the attic. Once in the room, May shuts the door, locking it before letting out a breath. Pepper looks around the room, curiosity getting to the best of her as she takes everything in, admiring all of May’s little nicknacks and decor.

“This is where the magic happens,” May says as she slides a hand over her comforter, a sly smirk flashes across her face. Pepper chuckles as she shrugs off her carryon bag, placing it onto the couch in front of the bay window. May’s room is very cozy and simple, Pepper’s eye is immediately drawn to the huge bookcase adjacent to the queen size bed, the books on the shelves are old and new, and of course they’re in alphabetical order. She drags her fingers across the books.

“It took me awhile to finally complete it and a lot of money at thrift bookstores,” May chuckles as Pepper smiles, still taking her time to look at the books, “it’s very impressive.”

There’s a knock at the door and May lets out a groan, she trudges to the door, opening it to reveal Natasha standing next to a petite blonde woman who looks nervous. They don’t bother asking to enter because Natasha grabs the woman and pulls her into the room, taking a seat on the couch. May stares at the empty hallway, flabbergasted, she shuts the door.

“A simple hi would’ve done but okay, what’s up?” May rests her hands on her hips. She gives Pepper, who leans back on the book shelves, a confused look. Natasha grabs the woman’s hand, intertwining them together, her thumb rubs her knuckles. “This is my fiancée, Yelena.”

May lets out a gasp, her mouth agape. She runs over to the two of them and hugs them tightly, Natasha has to pry her arms off of them. May awkwardly chuckles. “Hi Yelena, i’m May. Natasha’s favorite cousin.” She extends an arm out to the blonde. Natasha rolls her eyes, “you’re my only cousin, idiot.”

Yelena shakes May’s hand, “it’s very nice to meet you, May. Nat has told me a lot about you.” May lets out a squeak, “you let her call you Nat! That’s so cute! No one in the family is allowed to call her that.”

“It’s true,” Natasha says as she shrugs her shoulders. She pulls Yelena in closer, making her comfortable as she lays back on Natasha’s chest, pressing a kiss to her hair. May grins, she extends a hand out to Pepper, pulling her to the bed. They lay back against the many pillows on the bed.

“This is Pepper, my girlfriend,” May says to Yelena, they both wave to one another. Natasha gives May a look, like she trying to figure something out but, May shrugs it off.

“Your mom’s looking for you,” Natasha says when she’s putting Yelena’s hair into a French braid. Yelena smiles at her through the mirror next to them. May lets out an incoherent groan and drops her head back on the headboard, banging it slightly. “Did you see her?” May looks at Natasha.

“Yep,” Natasha says as a small chuckle escapes her lips. Yelena turns to look at Natasha, “tell her, please.” A smile is across her face in a flash. May immediately sits upright, “tell me what?” She’s curious, along with Pepper who imitates her.

“Melina had already met Yelena a couple days ago, and she’s really happy so I thought it would be the same with your mom so,” Natasha is interrupted by May letting out yet, another groan, “let me finish telling the story you little shit.” A pout forms across May’s face. Pepper kisses her cheek, and the pout disappears.

“So I introduce Yelena to your mom and she said,” Natasha laughs, along with Yelena. She takes a breath to get regain her composure, “she said it’s so nice of you to bring your gal pal with you, the matching rings are adorable!” May cackles loudly to the point where she’s clenching her stomach and repeatedly hitting Pepper, who’s covering her mouth with her hand to subdue her laughter.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re lying!” She blurts out as she takes a deep breath.

“I swear to god May, Yelena can vouch for me,” Natasha gestures towards Yelena who nods her head and wipes a tear from her eye.

“I told you it would be a nightmare,” May whispers to Pepper, turning to look at her. Pepper tucks a strand of brown hair behind May’s ear as she looks into May’s eyes. Pepper can tell she’s nervous and scared to show it, “you did. Many, many, times but i’m here, so it’ll be okay and if not then there’s always a hotel.” May leans into her and Pepper places a soft kiss onto her forehead, May smiles.

After an hour of catching up, Natasha and Yelena retreat to their room, they already had dinner and May felt bad for keeping Pepper all cooped up in her room. It’s after eight pm when they ascend down to the kitchen, May heats up whatever leftovers the family had for dinner as Pepper grabs two sodas from the fridge. A light flickers on and they freeze in place. “If you were hungry you could’ve just came down for dinner like everyone else, May.”

May curses under her breath, “hi, mom.” A fake smile flashes across her face and Pepper knows this because May’s real, genuine, smile causing those cute dimples that she loves so much. “And you must be Pepper, hi i’m Claire Parker. It’s so nice to meet one of May’s friends other than that Stark boy.”

Pepper shakes her hand, “yeah, Tony can be a bit of a handful.”

May takes out their leftovers from the microwave when it beeps, grabs two forks and walks past her mother, “actually, Pepper and I are together, you know like Natasha and Yelena, except without the rings.” An expression flashes across Claire’s face that neither Pepper nor May can read.

“Oh, okay. You gals have fun. I’m just going to make some tea,” Claire says as she turns on the stove, boiling water in the teapot. May lets out a deep breath, she clenches her fist in her free hand not holding the takeout and forks. “I don’t know what century you’re in but, no one says gal pals anymore, and it’s quite an out of date term and i’m not sure you think you’re saying it correctly.”

Claire gives May a confused expression, “of course, I am. You’re girlfriends.”

Pepper now understands why May didn’t want to come home, she’s also feeling a tad bit uncomfortable as the tension in the room has reached a higher level. May is resisting the urge to slap herself across the face, how was she related to this person.

“No, mom, I-“ May pauses. She mumbles ‘fuck it’ under her breath and licks her lips. “Pepper and I are together as in we kiss and have sex and go on dates like everyone else. The same way as you and dad do. The same why Natasha and Yelena do, it’s normal.”

Claire’s face is as white as a ghost and she doesn’t say anything for a solid minute which means it’s a good time to run upstairs and eat, and they do exactly that. May and Pepper climb the insane amount of stairs back to May’s room, sit on the couch by the window and eat as they look out the window at the stars. It’s silent for a moment, they’re eating as May’s record player is quietly blasting a spice girls record.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Pepper says once the silence got enough for her, she looks up from her container of food to see May smiling. “I didn’t think I would do it but it just got so frustrating. We can leave tomorrow if you want, i’m sure I can get Natasha and Yelena on board.”

“Don’t you have family staying over the weekend?” Pepper questions as she snatches an egg roll out of May’s takeout dish. May gasps and shrugs it off, it’s only food.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen most of them since last break, but i’d rather just spend it with Natasha and you.”

Pepper looks up at May after taking a bite of her egg roll, “I’m in, whatever it is you want to do.” May cheeks turn a light shade of pink and she smiles. She smiles the real, genuine one, cute dimples and all, that makes Pepper’s heart beat fast in her chest, it echos in her ears.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” May puts her now empty container onto the coffee table, she sits in a criss cross position and leans forward towards Pepper. “Tell me something about you. I want to know everything.”

Pepper tilted her head, pausing for a moment to think, “I wanted to be a vet when I was younger. I loved animals, still do, so much until I realized going to school for almost seven years seemed too excessive.” May smiled at the thought of Pepper being a vet, helping animals, making sure they’re happy and healthy.

“That’s cute. I always knew I wanted to do something with my love of books, whether I decide to become a writer or open up my own bookstore, it’s where I truly feel like myself, when I’m surrounded by books and of course, Milo.”

Pepper rests her chin in her hand, she looks at May as she talks about her love for books and writing and what she could do. She notices that May talks with her hands a lot, they’re constantly moving in different directions when she speaks, making her point across. Pepper also notices there’s a tiny twinkle in her eyes when she talks about anything she loves and Pepper decides right then and there that she has moved from the like stage of their relationship to love, and it was going to be difficult.

May lets out a yawn, breaking Pepper’s train of thought. She gets up from her seat, shuts the record player off and grabs a pair of pajamas from the wardrobe. She changes into them, not caring if Pepper sees, they already had sex. May lazily braids her hair as Pepper changes into her own pajamas.

Pepper’s flannel pajama set is far more gracious looking than May’s old Beatles shirt and some boxers. They throw out the empty containers, shut the lights off, and are immersed in the softness of the sheets and comforter. May turns on her side, she pulls the comforter up to her chest, and faces Pepper. The blonde imitates her, they stare at each other as the moonlight shines through the window onto their face. May’s tongue pokes out, wetting her lips, before whispering, “Did you know that the moon is a lesbian?”

Pepper covers her mouth with her hand as she laughs. She takes a brief pause to collect her breath. “Are you serious, who told you?”

May raises her eyebrows, “Um, everyone knows. The moon and the sun are lesbians, they’re together.” Pepper nods her head, “yes, what was I thinking? They definitely are.” She didn’t know much about the moon and sun, even the stars, but what she did know was that May was very enthusiastic about the moon being a lesbian and Pepper didn’t have the heart to tell her what she thought of it.

“It’s just a theory, I’ll let you sleep on it.” May says before giving Pepper a sweet, soft, kiss and turning the other way to get some sleep. Pepper freezes, she didn’t expect that at all. She mumbles out, “Night, May.”

The bedroom door barges open, it smacks against the wall. May instinctively sits upright in bed, her hair is disheveled and eyes are still closed, and Pepper is still soundly sleeping.

“What,” May mumbles out, eyes still closed, her voice is hoarse.

“Breakfast is ready,” Natasha says as she leans her back on the doorway frame “I’m not leaving until you get up.”

May lets out a groan, she runs a hand through her hair and gets up quietly from the bed without waking Pepper. She takes one last look at the sleeping blonde and follows Natasha down the stairs. It’s suspiciously quiet for a Saturday morning in the Parker household, besides the tv in the next room playing the news on blast, it made May feel a little on edge. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as Natasha immediately grabs the already made coffee pot and sits in the empty chair next to Yelena.

Natasha hands May a mug, she pours the steaming dark goodness into it, adding a touch of creamer and sugar before taking a sip and letting out a content sigh. There’s a variety of breakfast foods scattered along the island table. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast. Even some boxes of cereal and bowls of fruit.

May rolled her eyes, her parents always go all out when they get together and there was only eight of them currently in the house. Three of said eight were currently sleeping. Claire hasn’t even acknowledged May’s presence yet, occasionally sipping her coffee and looking over at the newspaper her dad was currently reading. May let out a huff and piled some of everything onto a platter, she grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with orange juice and set it onto the tray. She lifted it up and began to walk back upstairs to her bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Claire called out. May bit the inside of her cheek.

“Upstairs. Pepper’s still sleeping, so I thought I would surprise her with breakfast in bed or is it mandatory to eat in the kitchen now?”

“That’s very sweet, kiddo,” May’s dad, Ed, said as he licked his finger and turned a page in the paper. A half smile appeared on May’s face, she ascended up the stairs when no one objected, though May knew as soon as her back was turned her mother had a stern look on her face.

Natasha and Yelena sat quietly watching May walk up the stairs. Yelena gave Nat a look, almost asking if we should follow but Natasha shakes her head. She broke off a piece of pancake, dipped it in syrup and took a bite. Yelena craned her neck to look at May’s mother, she felt a sense of uneasiness but discarded it when Natasha threw a berry at her.

“Why?” Yelena asked when Natasha threw a second berry.

“Because I wanted too,” Natasha argued back, instead of throwing another fruit, she popped it into her mouth. Yelena stared at her, her nose scrunching up.

“If you keep doing that i’m going to kiss you,” Natasha said as she scooted closer to Yelena, her arm rested on the back of Yelena’s chair. Yelena moved closer, she reached over to wrap an arm around Natasha but moved it at the last second to grab a strawberry off her plate. Natasha let out a small fake gasp before smiling, she knew what Yelena was going to do before she even did it. It was a little thing that Yelena loved, like Natasha was part witch or something, she had a sixth sense.

“No PDA in the kitchen please,” Ed said without even looking up from his newspaper as he did the crossword of the day. Natasha rolled her eyes, “we weren’t doing anything, uncle Ed.”

“Oh, I know, but who knows what happens after the kitchen gets covered in fruit, I definitely don’t.” Natasha let out a chuckle. She cups Yelena’s face with her hand and gives her an eskimo kiss, Yelena lets out a giggle.

May shuts the door quietly behind her as she places the tray of food onto the table. She walks over to Pepper’s side of the bed and places a kiss on her forehead, Pepper stirs and mumbles, “Why are you giving me kisses, no one’s around.” May chuckles, “that makes it even better.”

“I brought up breakfast since you wanted to sleep a little late.” May leaves Pepper’s side to bring the tray over onto the bed, Pepper is immediately woken up by the warm, delicious smells of food. Her stomach rubbles. “First of all,” she lets out a yawn. “You didn’t wake me up so don’t blame it on me, sweet cheeks.”

Pepper ties her messy bed hair into a ponytail as she sips her orange juice and cuts into her pancake. It’s covered in syrup and completely lathered in butter, just the way she likes it.

“What are we doing today?’ Pepper asks after she takes a bite. She pops a pre-cut strawberry into her mouth.

May takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m not sure, maybe we’ll go to a museum or just hang out.” Pepper nods her head. They sit in silence as Pepper eats her breakfast. Occasionally May will steal some fruit out of the bowl, earning a glare from the blonde. Pepper lets out a huff as she sits back, she’s content and in a slight food coma, it’s good though. May stares at her and raises an eyebrow in her direction before standing up, taking two long strides to the dresser and grabbing an outfit for the day.

“I’m heading to the shower,” May suggests as she walks towards the door, “unless you want to save time and water.” She raises both eyebrows up and down. A small smirk appears on Pepper’s face, she licks her lips.

“Love to, sweet cheeks. But, I’m afraid I can’t get up, due to the food coma that has overcome me. Raincheck?” A pout forms on May’s face, “okay.” And she’s out the door. Pepper lays her head back onto the pillows, closing her eyes as her nose scrunches up and a sigh escapes her lips.

“You should’ve went,” Natasha calls out.

Pepper looks up and sees Natasha with her arms crossed, hair braided, standing against the wall. She’s dressed like Lara Croft, black jeans and leather jacket. Pepper gets up from the warm, comfortable bed, to her suitcase, pulling out an outfit.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll make it up to her,” Pepper says as she stands awkwardly holding her clothes in her crossed arms.

“This has nothing to do with morning shower sex but please don’t hurt her. She can overthink anything and is a little fragile.”

“I won’t. You can count on me to pick up any broken pieces that have fallen,” Pepper swears as she places a hand on her chest. Natasha looks at her, almost stunned, maybe her little cousin finally found someone who equals her.

“Well we’re going to the museum today, because I don’t think anyone wants to be in this house right now,” Natasha nods her head and walks way, leaving Pepper alone to get dressed. She’s half naked in just her bra and pajama bottoms when May comes back into her room, towel wrapped around her body and her brown hair is dripping wet down her back.

“Oh,” May says as her cheeks flush, she shuts the door behind her. “I thought you were going to shower after me.”

Pepper shakes her head, “dry shampoo does wonders.” She chuckles. “I’ll do it tonight, you did say you wanted a raincheck.”

May does a double-take, “You’re right, I did say that.” She smirks as she pulls her jeans over her tan, skinny, legs.

“I always am,” A now dressed Pepper says as she runs a hand through her hair. She turns around to see May standing in front of her mirror, admiring herself. Pepper smiles as May turns around.

“Let’s go,” she says as she glides past Pepper and out the bedroom door.

The four of them exit Natasha’s car and head to the museum, it’s not as grand as the one in New York, it has its perks and small flaws. Natasha grabbed Yelena’s hand and drags her in the opposite direction May and Pepper are going. “We’ll see you at the gift shop later!” She called out over her shoulder. Yelena sent the two women a sympathetic smile.

May let out a groan, “of course she wouldn’t want to keep the buddy system in place.” She opened the museum map and began to walk towards the art section, Pepper followed.

“It’s alright. They just want to do their own thing. C’mon,” Pepper smiles as she links her arm around May’s. They’re standing in a gigantic room, paintings scatter the walls in various directions and Pepper’s eyes are immediately fixated on a flower portrait. She stand in front of it, her hand rests on her chin.

“Whatcha thinking about?” May asks as she slides next to Pepper, her eyes move back and forth from the painting to Pepper.

“The colors in this blend almost like a sunset. See here,” she points. “The way the purple moves into the blue then fades into green and so on so forth.” May nods her head. It’s this moment she really wished focused during art class she had to take as an elective.

“I take it you like art?” May asks as they move down the line of paintings, staying in sync with Pepper.

“Yes, very much.”

“God, you and Steve would get along so great,” May says drastically as she looks at the map.

“Why’s that?’ Pepper asked curiously. She tilted her head to the side.

“Because Steve’s an artist, or at least trying to become one. He’s fascinated by it to the point where his apartment is filled with paintings, old and new, unfinished and completed. It’s really remarkable to see someone with their life together and completely immersed in their work.” May frowns and shamelessly tilts her head down to the floor. She walks towards the next set of paintings. Pepper’s eyebrows furrow, she’s not sure how to respond to the truth hidden between the lines. She lets out a breath and follows May.

It’s quiet in the museum besides the soft, elegant, classical music playing throughout the room. May and Pepper don’t speak for a moment until they reach another exhibit, the statues. May’s demeanor has completely changed. She pulls out a camera that Pepper had no idea she brought with her. May ran over to an open bench and rolled back the camera. She disposed the film into it, slow and steady, and snapped it shut. The sound of the camera rolling film was pure, soothingness, to Pepper’s ears. It was equivalent to a wave coming to the shore or the sound of coffee pouring into a mug. With a content sigh, May looked up at Pepper and smiled.

May jumped up from the bench, rolling back and forth on the heels of her shoes. She ushers Pepper to stand by the statue. “Imitate it please.”

With her mouth now agape, Pepper drops her bag next to May and immediately does what she’s told. The statue’s arms are slightly crossed with one another and her head is tilted up, showing off her jawline and collarbones. Once Pepper is in position, May adjusts the zoom and clicks the shutter. “Nice,” May says as she rolls the film. “Come on.” Pepper blinks and nods her head, she grabs her bag and follows the petite brunette.

They spend the next forty minutes lost in one another’s presence and taking photos of the statues while also recreating some of them with the help of a very nice bystander. By the time they’re done, it’s time to meet Natasha and Yelena at the gift shop. Natasha is talking indistinctly to Yelena, May can see that Yelena has a bag of goodies, no doubt in her mind Natasha bought her it.

“Did you guts have a good time?” Yelena asks as she pulls her bag tighter around her shoulder and leans into Natasha.

Pepper nods her head, “Yes, I loved it.” She pauses to glance at May and clears her throat. “The art was beautiful, this was a lot of fun.”

A small smirk appears on Natasha’s face, “good. Let’s go.”

May lets out a groan, “Awe, come on. I don’t want to go home just yet.”

Natasha sighs, “you know we have to go back eventually. You can’t keep hiding in your room until you leave tomorrow night.”

“I can try,” May mutters under her breath as she follows them to the car. Pepper rubs May’s shoulder in a calmly manner.

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out over her shoulder. May rolls her eyes because of course Natasha did. She probably, no definitely, has a sixth sense, May thinks.

They’re back again in the driveway and May just wants to stay in the car. She hates confrontation and she knows it’s only going to get worse. Maybe she can leave early, she thought. No, that would do no one good. Natasha and Yelena exit the car and head towards the house when May pauses in her step before entering. Pepper’s next to her, holding her hand. Getting a weird sense of deja vu.

“It’s alright if you want to leave tonight instead of tomorrow.” Pepper looks at her with concern, her eyebrows furrow. May sighs and says nothing when they enter the warm house. Her mother has definitely been baking as the smell of chocolate and cinnamon flow throughout the house. There’s a roar of laugher coming from the living room.

Natasha takes a pause when she sees Melina and Alexei sitting on the couch with May’s dad. They’re in the middle of a game of chess and a bottle of bourbon has been opened, the bottle is empty halfway. “Um, hi,” Natasha says and their attention is immediately drawn from the chessboard to her.

“Natasha!” Melina says as she gets up from her seat to hug Natasha. Natasha doesn’t know if she should hug her back or remain stiff as a board. “I told you we would come. Hello Yelena.”

“Hello,” Yelena responds as she glances at Natasha. The expression on Natasha’s face is hard to read. Yelena doesn’t know if she should comfort or drag her away from the scene in front of them. Behind them, May and Pepper lean their heads in the room to see what the commotion is and May’s eyes widen. “Those are Natasha’s adopted parents,” she whispers to Pepper. Pepper nods her head. “We heard you were going to be here for the holidays so we thought we would surprise you,” Melina says as she glances back at Alexei, who is taking a gulp of his cold, bourbon, glass. Natasha swallows and clears her throat. “Not that I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t have to come here. We would be with you for the holidays anyway.”

Melina’s eyebrows furrow, “I thought you would be excited to see us. It’s our first Christmas here and it’s been so long since we saw our dear niece, May.” She pauses to look around for the brunette and her eyes land on May slowly sneaking upstairs with Pepper. “May!”

May sighs and turns back around with a smiles on her face, “Hi aunt Melina.” Melina embraces May and rubs her shoulders. “It’s so good to see you dear, how are you?”

May is taken back by the question. Ever since she arrived home, no one has asked her that and she is once again reminded why she likes Melina more than her own flesh and blood mom. May sniffles.

“I’m doing my best, aunt Melina. Um, this is Pepper, my girlfriend. Pepper, this is aunt Melina, Natasha’s mom.” May says as she glances at Natasha, who is sneaking away with Yelena to another room.

“Hi Pepper, it’s so good to meet you” Melina outstretches a hand to her. “How are you enjoying our cold weather? I bet it’s a bit upscale from New York.” Pepper softly shakes her hand, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s definitely colder than New York but nothing I can’t handle. Actually, I quite like it.” Pepper says honestly. She doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence and truth came out. Maybe it has something to do with the way Melina does things and asks the right questions.

“That’s wonderful to hear. I can’t wait to tell you more once we have gotten settled,” Melina is interrupted by Alexei yelling at Ed, she rolls her eyes. “I have to go calm him down before things get out of hand again. I’ll see you girls later.” As quickly as she came to them, Melina is next to Alexei, rubbing his arm calmly.

May exhales, “there, you met Melina. I think that’s everyone besides by brother and sister who,” May pauses for a second to overlook the living room and part of the kitchen, “who, aren’t even here.” May rubs a hand over her face, she was starting to get tired of her family.

“If my mom and I don’t make up tonight then we’re hopping on the first plane out, is that alright with you?” May asks Pepper, she looks up at her, there’s almost tears in May’s eyes.

“Come on,” Pepper says as she grabs May’s hand. Together they walk up the stairs to May’s room and shut the door. Both of them let out a gasp when they see Natasha and Yelena sitting on the couch.

“I thought you guys were still downstairs,” May questions as she sits on the bed, Pepper following.

“How did you forget your house has more than one set of staircase in it? It truly baffles me that i’m here more than you are,” Natasha says as she plays with Yelena’s hand, instinctively drawing circles on it.

“Yeah, well, don’t take that as a compliment or let it go straight to your head,” May argues back. She leans her head back onto the pillows.

“Do you want to tell or should I?” Pepper whispers. May turns her head towards her, “No, I can”

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Parker?” Natasha says with an eyebrow raised.

“If mom and I don’t make up tonight, we’re leaving,” May says calmly as she intertwines a finger with Pepper’s, locking it together. Yelena’s eyebrows raise and she cranes her neck to look at Natasha.

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks in a concerning voice, surprising May.

“Yeah. I’m tired of it, I just want to go home, be in my bed and see Milo. I knew I should’ve gone to Tony's.” May angrily says as she hits her head back down onto the soft pillows.

Yelena was about to open her mouth but Natasha beat her to it, “Milo is her cat.” Yelena nods her head and closes her mouth, smiling.

“We have a cat too. A white cat named Luna,” Yelena says smiling.

“She hates me,” Natasha says with a straight face.

“No, she doesn’t,” Yelena looks at her defensively as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Awe, we can have cat playdates,” May says grinning and definitely doesn’t miss the awful, horrid, look flashing across Natasha’s face.

Yelena laughs. “I’m so down for that. We need to set up at date.”

“No.” Natasha immediately says.

“Yes.”

May clears her throat, “can I just ask-“

“No,” Natasha says once again. “We’re not talking about why they’re here. I have no idea. I didn’t ask them, neither did Yelena.”

May nods her head, “okay, good.”

“Good,” Natasha repeats as she rubs a hand across her forehead, trying to relieve the sudden tension she had.

There’s a knock on May’s door.

“Yeah?” May calls out.

Ed pokes his head in with his eyes closed when he opens the door, “is everyone decent?”

Natasha chuckles, “yes, uncle Ed.”

“Oh, good,” Ed opens his eyes. “Dinner’s ready.” He turns to head back down the stairs before pausing to turn back to May.

“May, it’s okay with me if you want to go back to New York. I know you’ve only been here a short time but, it was nice to have you back home, kiddo.” He smiles and trudges down the staircase. May sighs and thinks to herself, he’s definitely a spy or has cameras everywhere.

Dinner that evening is quiet, the tension in the air is thick. Melina helped Claire make pasta, even their homemade sauce. It was delicious and very comforting. Alexei and Ed talked amongst themselves, discussing various things from cars to the economy. The girls sit at the booth, Natasha and Yelena sat in during breakfast, while the other adults claimed the island.

Melina, who sat the closest to them, turned in her seat. “So Pepper,” Pepper pauses, her forkful of penne froze midair. “How did you meet May?” May glances at Pepper.

Pepper places her fork back into her bowl, “we met through Tony, one of May’s closest friends. He introduced us and the rest was history.” Pepper smiles.

Melina nods her head, “very cute. Tony as in Tony Stark?”

“Yes,” May says this time, allowing Pepper to continue to eat her pasta. “You met him, I think, last year when we came over for Christmas. It was the year Natasha got sick.”

Melina’s face lit up, “yes! I remember, he was very sweet. He helped me bake cookies and talked about a boy named Steve, whom he had a crush on.”

May smiled, “they’re together now. They’re disgustingly adorable.” May sticks her tongue out before taking a bite of bread.

“That makes me so happy to hear! Alexei, dear."

Alexei pauses his conversation with Ed and focuses his attention on his wife, “yeah?”

“You remember last Christmas when May brought home her friend Tony?”

Alexei face also lights up, “of course! I told him he needed to grow more, he’s uncomfortably short for his age. How is he doing May?” He cranes his neck to look at May from over Melina’s shoulder.

“He’s doing very well, he’s trying to get into business while working part-time at a garage. And as I told Melina, he’s with Steve now. I think they’re going on almost a year together, right, Pepper?” Pepper nods her head.

“Get outta here!” Alexei exclaims. “That’s wonderful. Please tell him I wish him all the best, I hope one day we can meet Steve.”

“I’ll pass it along, uncle Alexei. You can count on me,” May says smiling as she takes a sip of water. She glances up at Natasha and Yelena who can sense a relief coming from May, more like a breath of fresh air. It’s extremely comforting for all of them in their little booth.

A pair of utensils clattering onto a plate makes everyone jump in their seats, except for Ed, who continues eating and is definitely used to this annoying behavior from his wife by now. Claire stands up, her chair screeches on the hardwood floor, she puts her dish into the sink and heads towards the living room. The tv echos throughout the first floor of the house.

Ed lets out a heavy sigh and excuses himself from the kitchen, he follows in his wife’s footsteps while absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. Melina and Alexei side eye one another before they continue eating, occasionally grabbing more bread from the bowl.

May lets out a puff of hair, a strand of hair blows. She pushes her pasta bowl away from her and crosses her arms over her chest. Natasha looks at her sympathetically, she reaches across the table, palm facing up. May looks at it before putting her own hand on top, Natasha rubs her hand with her thumb, in a circling motion. Pepper leans over and places a kiss on May’s temple.

“If you want to go, we can go,” Pepper whispers. May nods her head and gets up from her seat, she takes the semi-empty bowls to the sink. As she pushes back her hair from her face and ties it onto a low ponytail, she turns back to Melina and Alexei.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time together. I hope you’ll come to New York soon and we can do something, maybe i’ll cook and bust out the card games,” May says as she laughs uncomfortably.

Melina nods her head, “I would love that May, thank you. Definitely stock up on beer for this guy,” she nudges Alexei who raises his glass.

“I’ll keep my schedule open,” May responds before signaling the girls to head upstairs. They pause in their steps when yelling is louder than the tv.

“I don’t want to hear it Claire. I’m tired of it and getting annoyed every second,” Ed exclaims.

“You’re tired of it? Tired of what exactly, me telling you how I feel?” Claire says back, hostile as usual. May rolls her eyes.

“Tired of you treating May and your niece like this,” Ed gestures his hands out. “Like they’re not human beings, they are, and one of them is your flesh and blood. Have you even talked to Pepper since she’s been here, besides the hello from yesterday? Cause I have. She’s incredibly smart and I can see how much our May means to her.” Ed argues back.

May looks at Pepper, who’s eyebrows are furrow. Pepper may have forgot to mention that she did talk to Ed when she came down for lunch. May grabs her hand and kisses her knuckle. Natasha and Yelena continue up the stairs while Pepper and May linger for a minute.

“Change our attitude and mindset, even the way you treat everyone in this house. I’m sleeping in the guest room for the time being.” It’s quiet for a moment until Ed’s footsteps are being heard and he’s standing on the bottom step of the stairs, looking up at May and Pepper. A smile appears on his face and he puts a hand on May’s shoulder, rubbing it in a comfortingly. The three of them head upstairs, Pepper continues walking while May and Ed stop at the landing.

“Have a safe flight, kiddo. Please call me when you get home.”

“Will do, dad. And, um, thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” May says when Ed pulls her into a hug. She feels a little uncomfortable with the sudden affection, something she’s not used to since she was a child. She hugs him back, wrapping her arms around his torso. He pulls away after a full minute.

“Remember what I said,” Ed says while pointing at her, smiling, and enters the guest bedroom. May chuckles and throws her arms up in the arm and brings them back down while letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding it.

May enters her room when Pepper is packing her suitcase, she’s folding her clothes neatly, making sure they fit perfectly. “You know the t.s.a agents don’t credit you for how well you pack your suitcase?”

Pepper chuckles, “is it a crime to have everything neat for when I unpack at home? No.” May shakes her head and starts packing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I talked to your dad while I had lunch and you were with Natasha. It slipped my mind,” Pepper confesses while looking at May throwing her clothes into her suitcase.

“It’s okay, you don’t need my permission to talk to anyone. I appreciate you talking to him. Please tell me he didn’t dive into his dad talk or completely overshare about my childhood,” May pleads as she holds her hands together, praying. Pepper smiles, “Yes, he talked about you but, nothing bad I promise.”

May smiles as she zips her suitcase shut. She reaches down to grab her carryon and puts her necessary items in it, including the book she wanted to read but never got the chance to. Pepper puts her coat on, not caring that the outfit she wore, a pair of leggings and a hoodie, didn’t match. She lifts her hair that got stuck under the collar and turns to May. “Ready?”

May has her coat on and throws her carryon over her shoulder. “As I’ll ever be.” They walk down the stairs, suitcases in tow.

“Hey, wait, who bought our plane tickets?” May asks with an eyebrow raise.

“Your dad,” Pepper says enthusiastically as she looks at her feet, worrying she might tumble down the flight of stairs.

May smiles and mumbles, ‘of course’ under her breath.

At the bottom of the stairs is Melina and Alexei, they embrace the two girls in hugs. May promises Melina she’ll call her when they get home to arrange when they can get together, because let’s face it, they need a redo of this Christmas break.

As they head out the door, Claire gives them no attention, her sole focus is the reruns of criminal minds. Pepper shakes her head. Natasha opens her trunk and helps them put the suitcases in it. The door closes shut and they’re in the car. Natasha starts the engine and before she can pull out of the driveway, Ed comes out of the house, yelling, “wait!”

May rolls down her window, “yeah, dad?”

Ed stops in front, pausing to catch his breathe even though the distance between the front door and driveway was no longer than eight feet.

“This is for you,” he hands her a present wrapped in red paper and a bow on top, “Merry early Christmas, May.” He smiles. May’s eyes widen and her eyebrows raise high enough that she has lines on her forehead. “Open it when you get home or even at the airport,” Ed says before sending May one last smile and running back into the house.

“What was that about?” Natasha asks as she looks into the mirror, pulling out of the driveway.

“A present,” May says smiling as she rubs her hands over the wrapping paper.

“Great, so you get one early while we have to wait until tomorrow,” Natasha says sarcastically as she turns right.

“Are you going to open it?” Yelena asks May, turning in her seat.

“Later, I will,” May replies as she glances at Pepper.

Natasha puts the car in park when they arrive at the airport. There’s a sudden realization between the four of them that this could be the last time they see one another, until Natasha’s wedding, at least. Natasha doesn’t say anything when she exits the car and pops the trunk open for May and Pepper to grab their luggage.

May sets her luggage on the concrete and immediately grabs Natasha in for a hug, the redhead instinctively wraps her arms around May’s petite form. She buries her head in May’s neck.

“You know you’re my maid of honor, right?” Natasha mumbles against May’s neck and May lets out a sob and laughs.

“Of course, I know. Who else puts up with your shit?” This time Natasha laughs, a real genuine one. They pull away slowly and dry their tears with the end of their jackets and laugh. “Promise to call me?” Natasha says as she extends out her pinky finger. May nods her head and wraps her own finger around Natasha’s, they shake. May turns her head to see Pepper and Yelena exchanging numbers and talking quietly amongst themselves.

“She’s a good one, I hope you keep her,” Natasha nods her head in Pepper’s direction. May licks her lips and smiles, “I plan too.”

May waves over to Pepper, “we better get going.” Pepper nods her head. “It was nice to meet you Yelena. I hope you know you have a long road ahead with this one” May nudges Natasha’s arm. Natasha glares at her.

“Oh, I know. I’ll enjoy it,” Yelena says with a grin on her face.

“And that’s our cue to go. Goodbye, I love you,” May exclaims as she blows the two of them a kiss. Natasha imitates her before pulling out of the spot.

“You ready?” Pepper says once she’s next to May at the check-in line. She instinctively reaches out for May’s hand and intertwines their hands together.

“Yes,” May says without a beat. She kisses Pepper’s knuckle and they’re off back to New York.

It’s only nine-thirty when they’re in a taxi headed out of the city when May begins to question where they’re going. She does a double take before asking Pepper, the right and only question, “Where are we going?” To which Pepper responds with, “just relax and you’ll see when we get there.” May sighs and leans her head against the headrest, she slowly begins to drift off. With the day she had she at least deserved some sleep. Another thirty minutes pass and May is awaken by the car door shutting, she jumps in her seat and rubs her sleepy eyes. Pepper opens the door for her and unbuckles her seatbelt. May feels like a little kid when her parents used to wake her up after a long car ride and carry her into the house. No way is she allowing Pepper to carry her. “I’m alright,” she says once she gets her bearings. Pepper nods her head.

“C’mon, I’m sure they’ll want to see you,” Pepper says as she hands both of their luggage to a man at the front steps. May raises an eyebrow when she steps out of the taxi, she’s about to pay the driver when Jarvis steps up to do it for them. May’s eyes widened. She wants to squeal but she knows it’s late and she definitely didn’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood. Jarvis turns to face them when the driver pulls away from the sidewalk.

“Good evening miss Parker,” Jarvis says in his wonderful British tone that May absolutely adores every time she hears it. May is hugging Jarvis faster than Pepper can blink. The tall man smiles and imitates her, wrapping an arm around her neck. May breathes in his scent, a smell of cherries and a hint of scotch. They pull away and walk in arm and arm towards the house, Pepper follows closely behind, smiling to herself.

“I’ll have you know miss Parker that I have missed our weekly board games. I can play a mean game of poker.”

“Oh, don’t I know it, J. You always beat me but, never at checkers. That’s my speciality.” May says as she winks back at Pepper.

Pepper’s never been inside the Stark family home before and it’s much more beautiful than she imagined. It’s like it was taken straight out of a renaissance painting and fused with modern elements.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Jarvis says, breaking Pepper’s train of thought.

She clears her throat. “Yes, it is.” She extends a hand out to him. “I’m Pepper Potts, we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, of course, miss Potts. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Jarvis shakes her hand before reaching over to grab the phone.

“Tony, you have company. Can you and mister Rogers please come down.” Jarvis nods his head and hangs up. He turns to the girls. “Would any of you like some tea? We have every kind.”

“Yes!” May exclaims as she follows Jarvis to the kitchen, dragging along Pepper. “Jarvis makes the best tea, you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Pepper responds with a smile on her face.

Jarvis starts up the teapot by pouring water into it and setting it onto the stove, igniting it. He takes two tea cups and sets them next to the stove, a teabags in each. As the teapot heats up and begins to whistle, Tony and Steve enter the kitchen. Tony’s eyes widen as he runs to them, hugging both of them tightly. Steve smiles with his arms crossed against his chest.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were home,” Tony questions May, a concerned look plasters his face. He rubs her shoulder in a comforting manner.

“Not now okay? They just got here,” Jarvis says suddenly when he pours, now four cups of tea.

“Yes, sir,” Tony says as he sits next down to May.

Jarvis adds honey to every cup and slides one to each of them. “There are some lemon squares on the counter, feel free to take as much as you like. Tony, mister Rogers, miss Parker, and miss Potts, it’s been a pleasure. I bid you all a goodnight.”

“Thank you, Jarvis” They all say in unison, and that makes Jarvis grin.

Steve slides in next to Pepper, he blows on his cup of tea before taking a sip of it. “Thank you for calling me. He was getting worried about the two of you going to May’s home. I’m glad you cut it short.”

“Anytime, Steve. I mean it. I should be the one thanking you, not the other way around.”

“I’ll take you up on that anytime, starting now,” Steve lets out a chuckle.

“How was your weekend before we crashed yours? Sorry,” Pepper says shamefully as she sips her tea.

“It’s been great, Tony’s parents aren’t home and—“ Pepper raises and eyebrow and smirks. “hey! None of that.” Pepper chuckles. “Anyway, it’s been really good getting to know Jarvis. He’s really the best, I finally see what Tony’s been talking about all this time.”

“That’s really great, Steve. You got the approval of the highest person on Tony’s list of who he truly cares about. The second being you, then May and me.” Steve smiles bashfully.

“Thanks, Pepper. I appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Tony suddenly says making Pepper and Steve look in his direction. “What are you two talking about that’s making Steve go as red and hot as his tea?” Steve chuckles.

“Nothing that concerns you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, god,” May gags before taking a bite of a lemon bar.

“Oh, shut up Parker, you’re much worse.” Tony says as he drinks his tea in slight disgust. Tony wouldn’t dare say he hates it because he does. He just couldn’t live with himself to see the look on Steve’s face when he disappoints him.

“You got me there,” May mumbles through the lemon bar and holds up a pair of finger guns. She chuckles. Tony sets his cup down on the counter.

“Okay, lay it on me. We have plenty of time.” Tony rests an arm on the counter, his head lay in his comfortably in his palm. He looks up at her with eyebrows raised and a concern look. May sighs heavily. “First, Natasha’s getting married.”

Tony’s eyes widen. “I thought she was divorced?”

“She is. Now, she’s engaged to Yelena, who is just wonderful. You’ll love her, she’s so sweet.”

Tony’s mouth is agape with a grin on his face. “To a woman?! Why didn’t you lead with that! That’s great.”

“It is. I’ve never seen her so happy before, it was relieving.”

“Okay, so that’s the good news. What’s the bad?” Tony’s face is all serious. The grin from before is replaced with a stern look. May wets her lips and stops herself from looking anywhere but Tony’s face. “Um,” she pauses, moving a strand of hair out of her face. “My mom doesn’t approve.” May lets out a dry laugh. Tony immediately pulls her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her frame. He comforted her in the same way Jarvis had did when his own father didn’t approve of him being with Steve. Tony felt May’s tears soak his shirt as she sobbed into his arms, clenching his shirt in her fists. A wave of anger washed over his face as he looked up to Pepper and Steve sitting quietly, letting them have their moment. One look at Tony and Steve knew, of course he knew. How could he not? It was the exact same face Steve made when Tony told Howard. They understood one another. Pepper began to rub May’s back gently, she let out a sigh. None of them moved for a solid seven minutes, occasionally drinking their tea in silence. Tony held his breath when May lifted her head off of his tear stained shoulder, she sniffled.

“Sorry, about your shirt,” she rubbed her nose on her sleeve and wiped her eyes.

Tony chuckled, “it’s okay. I have plenty of shirts.” He tilted his head to the left and raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, eventually.” May let out a breathy laugh. “Thanks for that, I needed a good cry.”

“Don’t we all.”

Tony reaches over and grabs a lemon bar. He takes a bite of one and looks at Steve. “Ready for bed?” Steve nods his head and puts his cup into the sink and rises it out.

“Ladies, we’ll see you in the morning. Jarvis is making his special pancakes.” Tony beamed as he wraps and arm around Steve, slowly leaving the kitchen.

“You must be exhausted, baby.” Pepper gently says as she moves a strand of hair out of May’s face and places a kiss to her temple. May blushes at the nickname, she always does, as she ponders saying something but stops when she instinctively leans into Pepper.

“C’mon, let’s get to bed. We’ve had a long, tiring, day.”

May nods her head. She slides her empty cup over to Pepper who gracefully takes both and puts them into the sink next to Steve’s.

Arm in arm they walk up the mahogany staircase. Steve had told Pepper that they would be staying in the guest room across from Tony’s. May flops down on the soft duvet, too lazy and drained to change into her pajamas. Pepper looks around the room and notices their luggage is stacked neatly by the door, along with an adjoined bathroom.

“You lay there. I’m gonna get changed, okay?” Pepper tells May as she grabs her change of clothes. Before entering the bathroom she turns to see May lift up a thumbs up. Pepper chuckles. Not even four minutes later, Pepper is changed and much more comfortable, she sees May completely passed out on the bed. Pepper shakes her head and smiles. Slowly but carefully, without waking May, she moves her under the covers. Pepper slides in next to her and wraps an arm around May’s chest, kissing her forehead. Matching May’s breathing, she slowly begins to fall asleep.

May wakes up from the best sleep of her life, the kind of sleep that gives you lines on your arms when you wake up. She lets out a content sigh and rubs her eyes. She feels a weight on her chest and looks down to see Pepper sleeping soundly on her. May smiles. She slowly moves out from under Pepper and stretches her legs, arms and back until she hears her a cracking sound that is slightly satisfying to her ears. May heads to the bathroom quietly, without waking Pepper, and does her business before hearing a faint tapping on the bedroom door. With an eyebrow raise, May opens the door just a crack and fights the urge to let out a scream when Tony’s head peeks in. She glares at him and flicks him in the forehead, Tony’s not phased by it at all.

“Jarvis has breakfast ready, come on.”

May nods her head, feeling a bit fatigued after yesterday's unfortunate events, she rushes over to a sleeping soundly Pepper. She brushes the hair out of Pepper’s eyes as the blonde lets out a content sigh and blinks repeatedly.

“Good morning, sleepy head. Jarvis has breakfast ready, you hungry?” May asks as she slowly removes the covers from Pepper’s body.

“Starving, but I’m not imposed to staying here all day.” Pepper raises an eyebrow.

May bites her lip. “Tempting but, i’ve been craving Jarvis’ chocolate chip pancakes since we got here last night.”

Pepper hangs her head low, “It was worth a shot. Lead the way your majesty.” She bows ever so slightly before May grabs her arm, pulling her off the soft bed and into the hallway where Tony and Steve are still standing. Pepper laughs.

“Dear god, another minute and we would’ve left your ass in the dust.” Tony joked as Steve nudges him making Tony yelp out an ‘ow.’

Tony gawks at Steve. “You’re just pure muscle, aren’t you?”

Steve rolls his eyes as a sly smirk appears on his face. “Oh, shush. You love it.”

Tony blinks repeatedly and moves to kiss Steve. He pauses in his step when May lets out a barf sound, their eyes immediately glare at her.

“Can we please go eat now?” May pleads. She clasps her hands together, begging. Tony sighs as he puts an arm out, gesturing May and Pepper to head down the stairs towards the kitchen.

“Yes!” May exclaims and grabs Pepper’s arm dragging her down the stairs, semi tripping in the process. Steve chuckles.

The kitchen smells like a bakery, a heavenly, beautiful bakery. There’s plates of eggs, bacon, sausages and chocolate chips pancakes. Amongst the food is orange juice and of course, coffee and tea. Jarvis is mid pouring coffee into a mug when the four of them come in and sit at the island. A ear to ear grin flashes across his face. “Good morning, and Merry Christmas!”

A flash of confusion is on May’s face, she cups her face with her hands and gasps. “Holy shit I forgot.”

Pepper rubs May’s arm, “it’s okay. Yesterday was chaotic.”

“After breakfast, we’ll open gifts. Tony, your parents left gifts out before they left. I think it would be wise to at least call them for this occasion.” Jarvis says sternly, looking Tony in the eyes. Tony lets out a groan.

“I’ll do it later, J. I promise.” Jarvis nods his head, gesturing everyone to begin eating.

May immediately grabs a plate and takes a stack of pancakes. She adds a dab of butter and a lot of syrup and lets out a heavenly sigh when she takes a bite. May looks up at Jarvis. Pepper smiles, a giggle escapes her lips.

“Jarvis I want these pancakes every time I come here, you hear me?” May says as she raises a forkful of pancake in the air and into her mouth.

“As you wish, miss Parker.

May lets out a gasp, “Nice Princess Bride reference there, J.” May smirks.

Jarvis hides the smile across his face by taking a sip of his coffee. Tony shakes his head and whispers something to Steve that May, nor Pepper can hear, which results in Steve chuckling as he eats his scrambled eggs. Tony takes a sip of coffee and places his cup back down on the marble countertop.

“After gifts I assume you’ll be heading back to the city?” He questions, looking to Pepper, who is smearing butter onto a piece of toast.

“Yes?” Pepper questions as she side eyes May who nods her head. “Yes.” She repeats, more clear this time.

“Good. So are we. You’ll come back with us.” Tony grins, not missing the sudden death glare on May’s face. “Oh, cheer up, May. It’ll be fun.” May shrugs her shoulders.

Once everyone has eaten a little bit of everything, they graciously help Jarvis clean up and head to the living room with the biggest Christmas tree. Tony opens his gifts from his parents, from Maria, a record vinyl, and a watch from Howard. Tony shakes his head as he tosses both aside. Both gifts he had gotten from the previous Stark Christmas gathering.

Tony’s mood is instantly changed when Steve opens his gift from him. He takes a polaroid of Steve as he opens the blue wrapped box, inside it is multiple paint sets. Steve knows it’s the expensive one he’s been saving up for but he doesn’t care about that at all right now. He leans in to give Tony a kiss that Tony happily obliges with, wrapping a hand around his neck, deepening it. Jarvis lets out a cough before either of them can continue their PG-13 film.

Steve turns red, blush forming from his cheeks down his neck, while Tony shamelessly rubs the back of his neck. Tony gestures for May to open her gift, the one her father gave her before they left. It’s wrapped neatly with a red bow around it, and it’s a little on the lighter side. May untangles the bow and sets it off the the side. She lifts the cover of the medium size box to see a second box inside, it’s smaller and wrapped in tissue paper.

May’s eyebrows furrow as she rips the tissue paper off, throwing it into the previous box. She opens the box to see a folded up letter and a silver chain with a locket and ring around it. She gasps at the coldness and initials written on the locket; E.P. It also smells very old, like the smell of old books or an antique shop. Setting the necklace back down in the box, May opens the folded letter and the first thing she notices is that it's in her father’s handwriting.

‘May,

This necklace belonged to your grandmother, my mother, Edith Parker. You know for a long time she was with grandpa Parker but that wasn’t her first love. Her first love and other woman in the locket is Sophie. As for the ring, it was Edith’s. Sophie gave it to her and she wore it everyday around her neck hidden.’

May does a double-take, her mouth agape, and continues to read.

‘I’ve known Sophie all my life, you would’ve loved her my dear, May. and be absolutely enchanted by all the stories and special moments she would tell you one on one. I have other items from their time together, a box of trinkets and letters in a box, hidden, of course. Your grandmother asked me to pass this down to you when it was time and I think right now is a good one. I’m sorry, I have to give you this when you’re not here in front of me. I hope it puts a smile on your face. I love you. Happy Holidays. — Dad’

May doesn’t know how to react other than with tear-filled eyes. She smiles, a real genuine one, dimples and all. She gently holds the necklace in her hands afraid it might break, as she opens the locket and low and behold, two photos on equal sides of the locket are Edith and Sophie. May sighs, she rubs her thumb over the photos. She can see a little resemblance of herself in her grandmother. Her eyes advert to the ring, a silver thin band with multiple roses on it. Upon a closer look May notices their initials are engraved in it as well. She decides to leave it with the locket as intended. As May unclasps the necklace, Pepper is next to her, moving May’s hair onto one side of her frame.

“Let me,” Pepper whispers. May nods her head.

Pepper dangles the necklace around May’s neck, goosebumps arise on her skin. Pepper’s hands are shaking slightly, she doesn’t know when the sudden nervousness started. Probably when she realized she’s completely in love with May Parker and everything in her body is telling her this a red flag because there’s no way this angel sent from heaven likes, hell, loves her back. None of the less, Pepper shakes her head, clearing the thoughts, she fastens the necklace clip and pulls May’s hair back around her neck. May looks down at the necklace, and turns looking up at Pepper. “Thank you,” May whispers. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. And yes, it is,” Pepper says quietly, heart thumping in her chest, as she looks at May. May looks into Pepper’s eyes, her eyes widen, almost as if a light bulb went off in her head. She gasps quietly and excuses herself from the group. Pepper’s eyes follow her. “I’ll be right back.”

Tony claps his hands. “Shall we continue? Jarvis, this one’s for you.” Tony hands Jarvis a present. Their chatter slowly fades out when Pepper closes the kitchen door to have privacy. May is standing with her arms crossed, her back against the counter, and eyebrows furrow with thin lines across her forehead.

Pepper intertwines her hands together in front of her, she pauses in her step afraid of getting closer she will spook May. “You okay?”

May immediately looks up, her mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with me?” Her arms relax at her sides.

Pepper’s mouth opens then closes. She ponders for a moment. “I was going to tell you.” She clenches her hands, knuckles turning a shade of white.

“When? In a year or two?” May steps forward.

“I mean, maybe,” Pepper shrugs. May scoffs. “And how did you think I would feel, huh? What if I started dating someone? Or you started dating? Would you just stay quiet about it and suffer in silence?”

“In the case of you dating someone, yes, I would stay quiet about it, because it’s unrequited love. If I started dating someone, I wouldn’t give my all to then and I know that’s not fair at all. Pepper takes a step forward, she unclenches her hands.

May licks her lips. “What if it’s not unrequited love?”

“Then we do something about it.” Pepper takes two steps. She wipes her clammy hands onto her pants.

“Let’s do something about it.” May strides over to Pepper, wrapping a hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. It’s hot, and heavy and teeth clashing. Pepper’s arms instinctively wrap around May’s torso, sliding down to her hips, fitting perfectly into May’s love handles. Pepper lets out a small moan when May pulls away, her pupils are wide and there’s a spark in them.

“I love you.” Pepper grins like a Cheshire Cat. Her heart is banging like a drum and she feels like she can suddenly float on water. She pulls May back in, mumbling, ‘I love you too’ on her lips. Pepper lifts May onto the counter, May dangles her legs on either side of Pepper. She wraps them around Pepper’s legs, pulling her towards her. May’s hands roam Pepper’s body, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, almost as if this is their first time. It’s not. She feels goosebumps and soft skin, and the smell of roses. It soothes her. May moves away from Pepper’s mouth to place delicate kisses along her neck and collarbone. Pepper bites her lip.

Pepper sighs heavily. “We’re in the kitchen. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get hot and heavy in here.” Pepper leans her forehead against May’s. May pouts, her bottom lip poking out. “You’re right.”

Pepper helps May down from the counter and together they head back into the living room where the others have unwrapped all the presents.

“Hey, you’re back! We opened everything because it’s my house and I can,” Tony smirks.

“That’s okay,” May says smiling. “We’re just going to relax and get things ready before we leave.” She side eyes Pepper and grabs her hand.

“That’s right, I totally forgot,” Steve gasps. His eyes still fixated on his paint supplies. Tony’s heart swells in his chest every time he sees that glimmer in Steve’s eyes.

“I’ll pack leftovers for all of you,” Jarvis announces before heading into the kitchen.

“Thank you, J.” Tony yells with a smile on his face.

May leads Pepper up the stairs to their room, she shuts the door. Pepper leans back onto the bed, she closes her eyes. May licks her lips before lunging herself on top of Pepper. Her arms rest on either side of Pepper’s head, the necklace dangles, occasionally bumping into Pepper’s nose.

May kisses Pepper slowly and softly, she slips her tongue in. Pepper lets out a low moan as she switches their position, without breaking the kiss. Pepper slowly lifts up May’s shirt to unbutton her pants. She slides them down her legs and drops them to the floor with a silent thud. May rubs her hands along Pepper’s arms, feeling how they twitch anytime she touches them.

Pulling away, Pepper kisses May’s stomach and slowly kisses down until she reaches her underwear, placing a kiss there too when May lets out a whimper. Pepper wraps a hand around her thigh, kissing the side of it before using a finger to drag down May’s underwear and off the bed, dropping down on top of her pants.

May’s hips lift off the bed when Pepper kisses her clit. She slides two fingers through her folds, feeling how aroused she is and slowly begins to rub in circular motions. May lets out a breathy moan. “Pepper.”

“Yeah?” She raises an eyebrow and looks up.

“C’mon already, please.”

“As you wish.” Pepper says before licking a long stride. She goes up and down, very slowly, teasing May. She slides one finger in and May’s hips once again, lift off the bed as she grabs onto the sheets. Pepper kitten-like licks her clit as she slides a second finger in, she speeds up her motion, feeling May’s walls clench around her fingers. She’s close and May bites her lip to the point where it starts to bleed. Pepper removes her fingers and replaces them with her tongue and May moans loud.

Pepper grabs May’s hand with her, now free, one. Too caught up in the act to care about the wetness of Pepper's hand, May intertwines them together, knuckles turning white as Pepper’s tongue goes deeper until May’s backs arches off the bed for a final time and she gasps. May sees a blinding light and stars as Pepper continues to lick, not leaving anything behind and lays her head on May’s stomach, breathing heavily.

May chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

Pepper kisses May’s thigh. “Neither will I.”

May runs her hand through Pepper’s hair as they lay there for a moment or two. May sighs.

“I have to shower before we go. Unless you want to take me up on our previous rain check?” May smirks as she raises an eyebrow.

“Tempting but if I go with you, we’ll never get out.” Pepper pushes a strand behind May’s ear.

May rolls her eyes playfully and gets off the bed. "Pick something out for me."

Pepper tilts her head down, “of course.” May smiles and closes the bathroom door behind her before poking her head out.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Pepper shakes her head and stands up, stretching. She lets out a content sigh before taking out some clothes for May and herself.

Fifteen minutes later, May is out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body. She graciously puts the clothes, Pepper laid out for her, on. It’s just her usual grey crewneck and matching sweatpants, but May can’t help but smile to herself.

“I figured you would want to be comfortable in the car,” Pepper says honestly as she heads to the bathroom.

“Thank you.” May pulls the crewneck over her head and untucks her hair from the neckline. She puts her grandmother’s necklace back on and holds it in her hands.

Pepper quickly vanishes into the bathroom as May gathers her things. They barely touches their suitcases when they arrived, only to change into pajamas and get necessities. There’s a knock at their door and May has an inkling she knows who it is. Her suspicion is correct when she opens to see Tony staring at her. May raises an eyebrow.

“You had sex.” Is the first thing to come out of Tony’s lips and May gasps. May’s nose scrunches up as she tries to weasel her way out of talking about it but Tony ignores her and hops on the window seat, avoiding the bed at all cost.

May rests her hands on her hips. “What do you want Tony?”

Tony leans forward. “Well I would love to hear about the sexy stuff but Steve told me I have to tell you we’re leaving soon. As in five minutes because mr perfect doesn’t want to hit traffic.”

May chuckles. “You guys have the weirdest nicknames, I’ll never understand it.” Tony shakes his head.

“And you never will, my dear.”

Pepper comes out of the bathroom fully clothed, she’s not surprised to see Tony here, after all it is his house, well, parents house technically. She had a feeling he would be in the room and definitely didn’t want to scare him into oblivion at her nakedness.

Tony raises his eyebrows up and down with a smirk plastered across his face. “So,” he drags out.

“So what?” Pepper rolls her eyes.

Tony claps his hands together and lets out a child-like giggle. “I can’t believe you guys had sex in my parents room! I can’t wait to tell Steve.”

May and Pepper fall silent, they side-eye one another and shoulders tense up. Tony’s hand covers his mouth to contain his laughter.

“What!”

“Can you repeat that one more time?”

Tony takes a breath and grins. “Yeah, we don’t have a guest bedroom. Most of the rooms up here are offices and libraries, it’s just their room and mine. Jarvis has the guest house out back.” He giggles once more. May and Pepper stare at him flabbergasted. They’re at a complete loss of words and remain silent until Steve comes to check up on them.

“Hey, you guys ready to go—“ he pauses. “What’s wrong?” He raises an eyebrow. Tony lips fold into his mouth as tries not to let out anymore laughter. He scratches the back of his neck as he lets out a breath.

“These two,” he gestures towards May and Pepper. Steve looks at the both of them. “Had sex in my parents room.” Tony then gestures with his hands, in a jazz hand motion, the room. Steve’s eyes widen as he lets out a snort followed by a loud cackle. His back arches as his head tilts back, he wants to cover his mouth to suppress the laughter but he just can’t do it.

May’s mouth is still agape and at a standstill when Pepper rolls her eyes and gathers their suitcases. May feels the roughness of her suitcase handle in hand and Pepper’s warm, soft, hand in the other. She drags May along out the door, still hearing the loud cackling from Steve and occasional shushes from Tony.

May bounces back to reality when Jarvis stands in front of her, handing her Tupperware of goods. May nods her head, smiling. “Thank you, Jarvis”

“Anytime, miss Parker.” Jarvis leans in to hug May, she happily obliges, wrapping her arms around his slender frame. She pulls away when Jarvis moves to Pepper, hugging her as well.

“It was lovely to meet you miss Potts. You’re welcome to come here whenever you please.”

Pepper smiles. “Thank you Jarvis.”

Tony and Steve come trudging down the stairs. “Ready to go?” Steve asks before grabbing their suitcases and heads out the door, May nods her head.

Tony turns to Jarvis. “Happy Holidays, J. We should do this every year, it always gets better and better.” Tony sends a sly smirk to May as she rolls her eyes and heads in the direction Steve went. Pepper quietly follows not a minute after.

Jarvis rubs Tony’s shoulder. “We do this every year, Tony. Even with the exception of your parents.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, I know. I mean, it’s just better without them, more quiet and relaxed rather than the chaotic mess.” Jarvis hums in agreement.

“I see, sir. Well they won’t be back for another two weeks, can I expect to see you and mister Rogers before then?”

“Of course you can.” Tony smiles and hugs Jarvis.

Jarvis looks up and out the open door to see Steve waiting by the passenger side, arms across his chest, one over the other.

“I like this one.” Jarvis says quietly even though they’re the only two in the foyer. Tony wants to scream with glee, but he doesn’t. Instead, a tear slides down his cheek, he quickly wipes it away. Tony grips Jarvis’ jacket tighter, he starts to shake, knuckles turning a shade of white. All Tony has ever wanted from his parents is love, affection, and acceptance, maybe even an occasional ‘i love you.’ So far he has barely gotten any of those. That’s an understatement. The only ‘i love you’s’ he’s heard is from Jarvis, Steve, and May. And now, to hear something so pure and something he shouldn’t even ask for, from Jarvis, someone Tony absolutely adores and admires is just the thing he needed to hear this weekend.

Jarvis rubs Tony’s back comfortingly. Tony mumbles a ‘thank you’ into his neck and Jarvis smiles. They stay like that for a moment until Tony pulls away, wiping his face.

“Out of all of them, you’re the best one,Tony. I mean it.”

“Thanks, J.” Tony sends Jarvis one last glance and a smile before grabbing his backpack and is out the door. Steve uncrosses his arms and opens the passenger door for him. His eyebrows furrow and his smile is replaced with a concern look. “You okay?” He rubs Tony’s shoulder once he’s in arms length.

“Never better.” Tony says smiling. Steve ushers Tony into the car and shuts the door. Before entering the car, Steve turns back to Jarvis and waves. Jarvis smiles and nods his head. Steve puts the car in drive and backs out onto the main road. The radio plays soft 70s music that Tony silently hates but Steve knows he enjoys it from time to time. Tony grabs Steve’s hand and kisses his knuckles before rubbing a thumb gently over it. Steve side eyes Tony, keeping his eyes on the road but a warm smile plasters his face and Tony’s heart swoons in his chest.

In the backseat, May rests her head on Pepper’s shoulder. Their hands intertwined as May reads the book she brought with her. Pepper silently following along with her.

They’re in the car for over an hour and good thing they left when they did because traffic just started as they entered the city. Pulling up to the curb in front of May’s apartment complex, Steve’s puts the car in park and unlocks the trunk. He places their suitcases onto the curb.

“Thanks, Steve.” Pepper says with a smile.

“No problem.” Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against the trunk. Pepper glances at May talking discreetly to Tony by the passenger side door.

“She’s a good one.” Steve says suddenly, breaking Pepper out of her trance.

“I know. Thank you for reminding me.” Pepper blushes as she fixes her shoulder bag. May shakes her head and chuckles to herself when she walks back to Pepper. She leans her forehead on Pepper’s shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

Pepper places a kiss on the crown of May’s head. “I know, babe. C’mon, I’m sure Milo misses you.” May’s instantly perks up and runs to the apartment door, suitcase in tow, yelling, “I hope Loki didn’t kill him!”

Tony shakes his head as Steve chuckles and Pepper sighs. “See you guys later. Get home safe.”

“Will do.” Steve sends her a salute and is in the car, pulling away from the curb as Tony waves goodbye.

Pepper meets May in front of the elevators and smiles when she sees May getting antsy, she’s jumping up and down in place.

“I can’t wait to see my baby boy!” May yells when the elevator doors let out a beeping sound. They’re in the elevator in a flash and immediately press their designated floor button. May’s still bouncing up and down, like a little kid in a candy store. The elevator lets out another beep and May runs as fast as she can to the door and unlocks it, leaving it open for Pepper who is still walking.

“Milo! Baby!” Pepper hears May and she giggles to herself. Once inside, Pepper shuts the door and places her suitcase by the door. She takes off her jacket and places it on the coatrack. Pepper heads to the kitchen to get a drink but pauses in her step when she sees a note on the counter. It’s for the both of them.

‘Dear May and Pepper,

Milo was an absolute dear. He was very lovable and affectionate and the most sweetest cat. So no, May, I didn’t kill him. He’s very much alive and waiting to see you again. You too, Pepper. I hope one day we can meet face to face, I’ve heard wonderful things. P.S; I would love to cat sit any time, any where.

Love, Loki’

“May, there’s a note here from Loki,” Pepper says as she carries the note with her to the living room. May is cuddling with Milo who has his head is resting on her chest and purrs softly. May takes the note with her free hand and reads it with a smile on his face. “I’ll text him later to say thank you.”

“And you thought something bad would happened to him,” Pepper shakes her head as she takes the empty seat next to May on the couch, petting Milo slowly. May glares at her.

“I have to take precautions, he’s my son. Ain’t that right, Milo?” She lifts him up so they’re face to face, Milo tilts his head and licks May’s nose. She grins. Pepper chuckles and Milo iears perk up at the sound. He's focused on her now as he jumps out of May’s hold and walks over her legs to Pepper and purrs.

“Yeah, sure, kid.” May rests her arm on the back of the couch, she stares at the two of them. “So, what now?”

Pepper eyes advert from Milo, who is rubbing is head on her arm, to May. “U-haul?”

May laughs. “Too soon.”

“Definitely.”

There’s a moment of silence before Pepper speaks up. “I don’t want to go home just yet.” May smiles and stands up from the couch. She puts a record on and moves the dial onto it, turning the volume up. Of course, Wham! plays softly through the speakers.

May gestures a come hither motion with her hands and Pepper can’t resist but move Milo out of her lap, he looks up at them with wide, curious, eyes. Pepper holds May’s hands as they sway together, back and forth to the beat of the music. Pepper twirls May around as she throws her head back, laughing, she pulls her in and rests her forehead against May’s. May pecks her lips before spinning around in a circle, moving her arms in the air. Pepper pauses and smiles at May dancing. Yeah, she could get use to this.

[rohitkkumar]

Pooja Batra celebrates International Yoga Day 2021 by doing tripod headstand

I married young, and had two perfect daughters, but my marriage was far from perfect. We had been young and in love. I was entering the community college and Denise was starting her senior year when we decided to tie the knot. Her family’s ready acceptance of me was a huge factor – the family I’d never had, making me feel like a real member of theirs. I can admit it now; I probably loved being a part of the family as much as I loved Denise.

Our split up was inevitable, two teenagers who knew nothing about life thinking their infatuation with each other would make everything else workout. I wasn’t an all-star, super jock, Rhodes Scholar with a 12″ swinging dick. I was just your average student, A’s and B’s, spending some bench time on the football team to get my letter, and losing my virginity at 18 to the girl I’d eventually marry.

When times got rough, we didn’t know how to handle it, and struck out at each other. Her family often stepped in and helped out when they could, but time after time, the great sex wasn’t enough to make up for the difference in our wants, needs and ambitions.

In the end, we gave up. Sometimes I think it’s a miracle we made it through 5 years. Our devotion to our children allowed us to finally see past our own issues, and work out a remarkably amiable truce, with our girls at the center. Even though Denise and I couldn’t live together, it turned out we got along a lot better divorced. We shared our daughters’ time, lived only one neighborhood apart, and worked together as a team to make our personal differences have as little impact on our girls as possible.

I had initially shared an apartment uptown, but eventually bought one of the smallest houses in the same school district, just to make things easier. It was a lot more than I needed most of the time, but when the girls stayed with me it felt like a home. And we only lived a couple of miles apart.

The neighborhood was nice, predominantly younger families, in older, smallish homes. Most of the people were cordial, kept up their property, and after a few years I knew many by name and would exchange greetings at the grocery store, or when out shopping. I had become suburbanized.

This was our fourth Christmas since the divorce. Denise was living with Eric, who I wish I could despise, but he was a decent guy with a great job and lousy taste in sports teams. He doted on my girls without trying to take my place. It had taken a while, but we’d developed a friendship, which wasn’t a bad thing.

My child support was pegged at just over $1500, with the kids on my health insurance. Even though we weren’t married long enough for alimony to kick in, I was paying another $500 a month just to make the kids’ lives better. And for me, that was all that really mattered.

The expense had been rough at first, but with little to concentrate on other than work, my performance skyrocketed. Two promotions in three years had made the financial aspect much less problematic, but increased travel had made the ability to be available for the girls less guaranteed. Denise was good about it, and worked with me. In return I picked up some more of the girls’ expenses, including music lessons and a piano.

Christmas was special. We celebrated Christmas an an extended family. I’d come over early, and we’d have a big family breakfast and open all the presents together. I really went all out to make sure the girls got their favorite items. At six and eight years old, they were still young enough to have simple wants, and the magic of Christmas was as real as it gets. The in-laws would come over in the afternoon with more presents and we’d have a good old fashioned Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. It was nice to be part of something.

I got a Christmas shut-down at work and Denise didn’t, so we agreed that they’d stay with me from Christmas to New Year’s, and any time she could get off, we’d usually work out something to get her time with the kids. It was understood that I wouldn’t leave town, at least not for more than a day.

Summer was great with the 2 weeks I got to spend with them, and we’d usually spend it on the beach. Christmas was still different. Christmas was magical.

I always was given the girl’s wish list, but I’d also start my shopping in late November for the must have items of the season. And I wasn’t stingy; I’d buy them all up, just to make sure I didn’t miss any. Stores, online auctions, Craigslist, I’d use any way possible to get my hands on the hottest presents. The first two years I’d caught hell from Denise for buying everything on the list, leaving nothing for them to get. Now I received a separate list of things I wasn’t allowed to buy.

So it was that I had just finished wrapping my forty-fourth present, all in glitter Barbie paper for Briana, and in Hannah Montana paper for Allora. December 5th, my earliest date so far to finish the bulk of my shopping. Sure, I’d pick up a few more things, including something for Denise and Eric, but my girls were taken care of. The presents were carefully spread around my living room, where they’d remain on display until just before Christmas, when I’d bring them over to Denise’s in a big ceremony.

The call came from Denise’s mother, Sharon. It took me 11 minutes flat to get to the hospital. I was still too late. Denise and Briana had both died en-route. Eric had passed away only ten minutes before I’d arrived. But Allora, my perfect little Allora, was fighting for her life, in critical condition. She’d always been a fighter, would never back down from any challenge. She’d beat this too, I just knew it.

It was a freak accident, with a car dodging out of the way to miss a coyote on the road. An 18 wheeler behind the car did his best to avoid the car in front of him, but ended up fishtailing, and taking out a suburban in the next lane over. That vehicle crossed the median and hit my ex-wife’s family van head-on. Six dead already and one little girl still fighting hard for her dear life.

Sharon and I kept a vigil over the little towhead, and when the doctors came out after 6 hours and declared the worst was over and she was in stable condition, we fell into each other’s arms and cried like children.

We stayed by her side, one of us always present, and Sharon called me when my baby woke up and spoke. For three long days we watched her slowly heal in the hospital, the worst of her bruises, cuts and contusions blossoming on the second day, and only just starting to fade again. I’m not a religious guy by nature, but I found myself on my knees beside her bed, praying to God to take care of her, and giving thanks for pulling her through this horrendous disaster.

At 4:18 pm on December 7th she passed away.

No warning, no reason, she was there, and then she wasn’t. The doctors suspected a clot. I suspected incompetence.

I finally understood how a person could get so down on themselves that life might not even feel worth living.

I went home and shut myself off from the world. After a while I took the phone off the hook. Hell, let’s be honest, I ripped the fucking wires out of the wall so I didn’t have to listen to one more bleeding heart tell me they were “sorry for my loss”. The cell phone was easier. I just turned it off.

Several people from work came by and assured me that I could take as much time as I needed. They’d bring me food, and news, and would leave as soon as they felt they’d spent the minimum time required socially by the situation.

Denise’s family took care of the funeral arrangements. They attempted to call, and even stopped by for my input. I gave them a check for $10,000 to take care of the girls, nearly wiping out my savings. What was I going to spend it on now? I couldn’t bring myself to go to the showing but I did take a shower and put on a suit for the funeral. It was a bleak day, gray skies, 20 mile an hour winds threatening to tear the top off of the outdoor tent. The ground was soggy from rain the previous night. Just perfect.

“Thanks, God. Piss on a guy when he’s down. Well, fuck You too.”

I shook the required hands, and kissed the offered cheeks until I just couldn’t take it any longer. All these fake people. Fake emotions. Tell me how sorry they were then go home to their perfect little families and eat meatloaf. Fuck’em. Fuck’em all.

Fourteen days. Two solid weeks in that dark house. I wouldn’t turn on any lights. No TV. I didn’t bathe, I didn’t shave. I sat in my chair or I lay in my bed and wallowed.

I had a few visitors after the first couple of days, but I’d rarely let them in, and before long they had the decency to stop showing up. Only Cathy from next door wouldn’t let me sink into complete oblivion. Every day, at least 3 times a day, she’d check in on me. I wouldn’t have let her in, but she had a key to the back door for emergencies and wasn’t afraid to use it.

She’d open the windows a crack, and goad me into getting out of bed and at least sit in the living room. She’d bring food, which she’d set in front of me, and refused to leave until I at least tried it. I insisted on getting my key back, and she handed it over willingly enough. And showed up again the next day. She’d made copies. Meddlesome bitch. Again, she badgered me into eating her breakfast.

And she’d talk. God, how that woman could talk! I got tired just listening.

All the neighborhood gossip, town gossip, political gossip, school gossip – she was plugged in everywhere and knew it all. Who was doing what, or whom. Griping about people who still had Thanksgiving decorations up, or had Christmas blowups in their front yard. Church fiascos and neighborhood vendettas, she would sit there, drink her tea (or bourbon and coke if the sun had set) and fill me in.

I didn’t care.

It had been two weeks since the accident. I’d lost more than 10 pounds, and really just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. But Cathy wouldn’t let me. She made it her personal mission to cheer me up, get me to respond, bring me back to life.

Then one day she let me have it with both barrels.

She walked up to me and slapped me across the face. Hard. “Damn it Alex! Snap out of it! Life is hard. And it isn’t fair, but as bad as you have it, there’s always someone who has it worse. Often in your own backyard if you have the eyes to see it.”

“What do you know about it?” I snapped viciously. “I notice your kids are alive.”

“I know my mother died when I was six, and my father left when I was thirteen, leaving Mike to raise my sister and me. He was seventeen years old. But he manned-up and did the job the best he could. That’s what I know. Life is hard.”

“Life is hard. Life’s a bitch and then you die. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When God closes a door he opens a window. If I hear one more God-damned cliché I swear I’ll kill something,” I growled.

“Alex, you got a raw deal. You had two perfect little girls, and now they’re gone. Your past is shattered. Your little bit of immortality is lost. And as bad as you’ve got it, I’d remind you others have it worse, and they just press on. You need to as well,” Cathy told me, kneeling beside me and holding my hands.

The woman barely knew me. A middle-aged mother of three with grown kids, and a workaholic husband. Her life was her home, keeping it immaculate and decorated for every holiday and season. Now it seemed I was her newest project. Why should I matter that much to her? Couldn’t she see I didn’t want her help?

“Sure, starving Ethiopians, children in Nigeria dying of aids, Tibetan monks martyred, it’s a tough world. Boo hoo.”

“You don’t have to look as far as Ethiopia or Tibet. There are people right here, right on your own block that are really struggling. Open your eyes. If you don’t like the unfairness do something about it. Even up the odds a bit. Make a difference somewhere. Get back to living.”

Something she said must have gnawed its way down to my subconscious. I spent my usual 14 hours or so in bed, but when I awoke I was thinking about her constant comments about someone in my own backyard that had it worse.

I cataloged each person on my block, in my head, and nobody really had it that bad. Sure, Neil, three doors down had lost his job, but his wife was still working, and he was looking. The Harris’s on the corner had a boy in Iraq, but as far as I could tell he was still Ok, and they had three more at home. The Martins, one down from the corner, fought all the time, and even had the cops called in on them once but they were still together. What did Cathy mean?

I expanded the radius of consideration to include the blocks surrounding us. Then it hit me. Across the alley in back, two houses past Cathy’s own. Six months ago. Barry Morrison had driven into an empty field behind the local middle school and eaten a bullet. I didn’t know much about the family – I just knew there was one.

When Cathy came over, I had showered off the top two layers of grime and sweat, and was drinking a Coke in the living room.

“Good morning, Alex, beautiful day outside. Why don’t we go out on the porch?”

“The Morrisons. Tell me about them.”

She placed her mug of tea in the microwave, warming it up, then walked out my front door and sat in one of my rocking chairs out front.

Irritated, I followed, and sat in the chair beside her. “The Morrisons?”

“Sandy and her daughter Erica. You won’t see much of her; she’s working two jobs trying to keep the house over their heads. They’re still fighting with the insurance company over payment. Suicide clause won’t pay under two years. He had insurance for years, but just around two years ago he changed the terms. She’s been trying to sell the house, but it’s underwater, and nobody’s buying.”

“How’s the little one?”

“Erica’s not doing so well. She’s seeing a counselor twice a week, and hardly speaks anymore. The school’s talking about holding her back,” Cathy explained. She sounded sad.

“Do we know anything more about why he did it?”

“No crimes, he wasn’t fired, no embezzling, it’s not clear what it was about. Apparently he’d been depressed for quite a while, but the underlying situation is still a blank as far as I know.”

“Harsh on the family, going out like that,” I told her, finding the whole idea hard to grasp.

“To say the least. The poor woman is worn to a frazzle.”

“And how does this all matter to me?” I asked.

“It doesn’t. It doesn’t have to matter to anybody. They’re on their own. Alone.”

“No family help?”

“Not that I know of. If they’re around, we don’t see much of them, that’s for sure.”

“Cathy, how the hell do you know all this stuff?” I had to ask.

“People just like to talk to me. I’m a very good listener,” she told me with a big smile.

We sat quietly enjoying the crisp air, finishing our drinks.

“You’re a good neighbor too, Cathy. Thanks,” I said softly.

“That’s what neighbors are for,” she said, reaching out and patting me on my arm.

That’s what neighbors are for.

* * *

Cathy brought me dinner again and I realized I was starving. She beamed at me when I finished the whole platter.

“Let’s go for a walk, Alex. You could use a stretch of the legs.”

It had gotten chilly, and we bundled up a bit. She took the lead and we walked down the block and turned up the neighborhood. We headed back up the next block and she regaled me with the entire history and habits of the inhabitants of each place we passed. She might have been a good listener, but I had to wonder when she ever was quiet long enough to hear anything.

It was obvious when we got to Sandy Morrison’s place. The “For Sale” sign was a dead giveaway. The unkempt yard and overgrown bushes indicated a lack of care for months. It couldn’t help with the sales prospects. The door paint was faded, and there were no Christmas lights or decorations set up. I thought the Realtor wasn’t earning their commission, letting the place show like this. Through the window I could see a desktop Christmas tree, maybe two feet tall, lit up all in white.

Strangely, Cathy stopped speaking before we got to the house, and didn’t speak again until the end of the block. “Sad,” was all she said.

We took a round-about path back to my house, and our conversation had returned to the safety of weather concerns, community issues, and such, carefully skirting any discussion of the Morrisons.

I was feeling the chill after the walk, and invited Cathy in for a cup of coffee, Irish fortified if she so desired.

We drank our coffee in front of my gas fireplace, warming our old bones. Damn that neighbor of mine, and her good intentions! She’d not only gotten me to think of something other than my own misery, and the unfairness of it all, but she had me thinking about those poor girls behind me, and what they must be going through. Damn it! It wasn’t fair.

I guess I still wasn’t ready for pleasant company. Angry at the world, I threw my mug at the wall, shattering it, and leaned over with my head in my hands, doing my best to hold back the tears. Big boys don’t cry.

Cathy stood and ran her fingers through my hair for just a moment before leaving out the back door. Kind enough to leave me alone to wallow in my misery a little longer.

* * *

December 22nd. Just three days until Christmas.

When Cathy came over that morning, I was already up and dressed. I had my working duds on and coffee and bagels ready.

“You’re up early,” she commented, helping herself to the java.

“It’s almost 10,” I reminded her. “Not so awfully early.”

She laughed. “Seems to me anything before noon is quite early as of late. Got plans?”

I nodded. “Thought I’d head over to the Morrison’s and see what I can do about the outside of the house. Clean it up a bit. Make it a little more presentable if they’re really planning on selling it.”

“That’s mighty neighborly of you.”

“It’ll give me something to do. I need to get out of this damned house.”

After our coffee, she walked with me across the alley, all my yard-work gear in a wheelbarrow. The grass was dormant, but long, and the bushes were out of control. I didn’t notice when Cathy left, but she returned in a few hours with some sandwiches for lunch, insisting I take a break.

I’d finished the bush trimming and had mowed the lawn, bagging the trimmings. I was just finishing the edging when she appeared. I took a break, and listened to her chatter about the neighborhood activities, and how sad it was that in the past few months nobody had offered to do as much as I had.

“I guess we victims of fate need to stick together.”

“It already looks 100% better. If you want to work in the backyard, I have a key to the gate.”

“It figures you would.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“It just doesn’t surprise me. I bet you’ve been helping out when you could.”

She sighed. “Not too much. She’s too damn proud. Doesn’t want any help from anybody.”

I shook my head. “Now you tell me. She’ll probably call the police on me.”

“So what if she does? You know you’re doing the right thing. I’ll bail you out if need be.”

I let her unlock the back gate, and saw I had my work cut out for me. The back yard was worse than the front. The fence needed work as well, some boards were broken and loose, and one whole section was sagging. Luckily, my tools were only a couple of hundred feet away, across the alley, and I was soon at work, determined to finish before the residents arrived home.

The biggest problem was one of the fence posts which had rotted out at the bottom. A new post and some quick-setting cement, solved that problem. Within an hour I’d be able to reattach the fence crossbeams to the new 4×4.

I turned to see a young girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, watching me from the porch. Crap.

[steveandtorixinthemiddle]

Steve, Tori, and X in the Middle

Hello and Welcome to our new blog (If I’m being completely honest, I will probably be the one posting the most) about the next adventure in our lives. I suppose we should introduce ourselves. Let’s start with Steve because he’s the funny one.

Who is Steve? Well he has been a construction worker in various fields for most of his adult life. In 2011 he discovered Wii golf, which got him interested in the actual game. At first it was just playing on his PS3, but eventually we were able to find a decent set of second-hand clubs meant for a lefty. The first time he came home from the golf course (after what he described as the most horrible round in history) he was grinning from ear to ear and happier than I had seen him in a long time. He said he didn’t get remotely close to par, but he’d enjoyed himself immensely. He has gotten better but says he will never be a pro.

Steve is funny. I mean gut-splitting, spit milk out your nose, pee your pants funny. Most of his quiet little comments go unnoticed by those who don’t know him, and they are missing a lot of laughs because of it. He has bought nearly every stuffed animal I own (and I own a lot of them, mostly ladybugs) because he enjoys making other people smile. Okay, mostly me.... Then again, he also worked two jobs to put me through college, so you have to know he’s a good guy.

Funnily enough, people actually think Steve looks a little scary. I don’t usually see it though. I see a big teddy-bear, or a really goofy guy who just wants to have fun. Sometimes I accuse him of being a ten-year-old in the body of a grown man (I guess like BIG) because he loves fart jokes and many of the other things every boy I’ve ever known has liked. This man used to sit down and watch a couple hours of Sponge Bob when our son was small. He watches Red Green, Monty Python, Mythbusters, and the Mel Brooks movies and wishes he could do something like that.

Now me, I suppose. Well, I’m in my late thirties, but sometimes feel three times my age. I haven’t had an easy life (who has?) and my body is feeling it. In 2017 I had a pretty bad fall that resulted in lingering pain for years. Pain so bad that I couldn’t even walk. We had no medical insurance at the time (we were poor, but not poor enough, and living in SC, a state that didn’t take kindly to the ACA), which meant that the injury went untreated, even undiagnosed.

If the physical injury wasn’t enough (it really was if you ask me), the meds that they gave me to treat my PTSD were late a couple times. It was a medication with a warning I was never given. Occasionally someone will withdrawal from certain medications in such a way that it causes damage. This particular withdrawal caused me to have seizures, brain zaps (which can only be described as electricity zipping through your head every time you move it, or even your eyes) and suicidal thoughts so severe my husband had to take several days off work just to sit with me.

All totaled I was trapped mostly in bed or in a wheelchair. I was depressed and anxious. My PTSD was worse than ever. I was feeling hopeless and alone all the time, and I honestly wasn’t sure if there was any reason to keep going. I would have really great days, when I was able to get my wheelchair down the ramp, take the bus to the store, even see my friends. And then there would be days when my hip would lock and I would fall down.

After a fall I could usually expect to be trapped for days in my bed, in unending pain, and mostly alone as my husband had to work, walk the dog, take care of me, do all of the household chores, and literally everything else. My only contribution to our life was using the phone to pay bills and make cigarettes. I felt like I was a burden to my husband. It just got worse and worse and I didn’t see an end.

It’s interesting what life gives you sometimes. One afternoon, when I couldn’t find any inspiration for a fanfiction story I was working on, I started looking on YouTube for anything that would keep me entertained. As I was scrolling through, I saw a video from Trent & Ally (Experienced Van Builder Creates Masterpiece (4k) Van Tour). When the video ended I remember thinking, ‘if I’m going to be stuck in bed all the time, I wish it moved.’ I had no hope of having “van-life” adventures. Not with my health so bad, or with my mental health not much better. Still, it gave me something to dream about.

Then one day my husband sat down in his chair across from the bed, looked me in the eye, and said “we’re going back to Maine.” He’d had enough of seeing me suffer. So, we came back to Maine. It didn’t work out the way we planned. We had to leave our dog Chyko with my cousin (his original owner, who had raised him from a pup) and his family and take the train and a bus to get there, which meant leaving almost everything behind for the second time (we’d done that when we moved to SC after I found my mom).

Almost immediately after getting to Maine we were able to rent a lot with an old trailer on it (1972) not far from Steve’s brother. Right after moving in, I applied for Maine Care, which is Maine’s version of Medicaid. After a while, with the proper medication and a LOT of hard work, I started to get better. First it was just walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. Then I wasn’t staying in bed all day anymore, I would sit at the table. After a while I was walking several times a day from one end of the trailer to the other.

You should have seen my husband’s face when I told him I was going to walk to the store for the first time. I actually thought he might cry. He walked beside me the whole way, telling me over and over how proud he was of me and grinning from ear to ear as he “showed me off” to the people of the town he had grown up in.

It’s funny the way things happen. Covid shut down the country. More and more I wanted out of my house. I took over walking the dogs (who we adopted from Steve’s brother when they moved to a place that wouldn’t allow dogs) twice a day. I started going out with my sister-in-law to stores and walking through them, first in my walker, and more recently on my own two feet with absolutely no help!

Over the past year I have gotten stronger. I will never be where I was before. I will never walk 23 miles with a toddler on my back again (yes, I did that once). I won’t be skydiving, or cliff jumping, or any of the major things I wish I could have tried at least once when I was young enough to survive (he he he). Still, I have a lot of life ahead of me. I’m glad my husband didn’t let me give up.

And now we are preparing for our next adventure. We are going to buy a shuttle bus and turn it into our home on the road. We have several reasons for this. One of those reasons is to pay off all of my outstanding medical bills. I literally owe so much that if I keep paying at my current rate it will take me 417.8 years to finish. So in part, I suppose this is about making sure we don’t leave that debt to our son.

There are other reasons though. One of them is that I would dearly love to meet a few of the couples/families/individuals I began following on YouTube over the past three years. Another reason is because we will never be able to afford a retirement on what my husband makes working in a grocery store (which was his only option after moving here) and we need to go where the work is. We also want to see the country, find out who we are now that “mom and dad” aren’t our biggest titles anymore, and to keep us both active and healthy.

(Okay, and because someone told me I couldn’t do it and I’ve never been able to resist proving people wrong when they say that, so long as I actually WANT to do it).

I’m sort of hoping my husband can put together a show of his own, that people actually enjoy watching on YouTube. Sort of a mix bag kind of show that brings in elements from his favorite shows and movies that really speak to us both. We would love to make videos about how and where to fish, or how to get a fishing license in a state other than your own. I’d even like to do my own short segment, sort of like what Mariah Alice does in her videos. Just talking about what I’m feeling, and why. Figuring out where I go from here.

And... both of us want to help others in our situation (low income) make a go of the life. We watched, horrified, over the last year as more and more people lost everything to wild-fires, floods, even evictions. We want to make it possible for other people to take their homes on the road with them. We want to help families who are really struggling figure out what to do next. And we want to really join in the community (which will be hard with my social anxiety, but not impossible).

Mostly, I think we just want to live while we still have time. I’m done existing. I want to really enjoy what is left of my life. And I want to keep getting better. If I am ever going to check off the last item on my bucket list (WALKING the full length of the Appalachian Trail) then I need to get much stronger than I am now.  

As for who is traveling with us...

The young Marine in the picture is our son, Tim, who has made us incredibly proud. He lives on base and seems to be doing very well. I wish he would call more, but what can I say, he’s an adult now and deserve the right to start his life, not keep his mom worry-free. He won’t be traveling with us, unless he decides to visit when he can build up some leave time.

If you look at the picture of me lying on the couch covered in dogs however, you will meet Madison (a twelve year old pitt mix) who we adopted from Steve’s brother. She is sweet and affectionate, but tends to bark at strangers and friends alike (you can only tell the difference by the beating your knees take from her tail). Beside her is Avalanche, her son, whose name fits him perfectly. His father was mostly lab, which shows. He is super affectionate, and if he doesn’t get my attention he will put his paws on my leg and lick me half to death until he does.

Both our dogs tend to bark when there are strangers around, though we are trying to get them into the habit of only giving one bark, to warn us. Unfortunately it is a bit more difficult to retrain older dogs, so it hasn’t been as easy as it was with retraining Chyko. Thankfully neither of them have huge health issues, but Madison is getting older. We’re hoping that since she isn’t full-blood pitt she will live a little longer than it says online.

Our plan is to stay in Maine during the summers, except perhaps an occasional trip, and mostly travel in the fall, winter, and spring. We do want to avoid the heat (mostly because my husband is afraid I will go supernova and take half a state with me if I get too hot), but we really want to see our son and visit with our other family down south, but then we will probably follow the weather to avoid costs associated with heating or cooling.

Right now we are just at the beginning. We’ve only just made the decision and haven’t even gotten our shuttle bus yet (though we are looking for the right one). We are gathering the supplies we will need to start. We plan to live in the bus during most of the build. Basically we have to do the insulation and redo the floor, walls, and ceiling of the bus before we build out anything, but the whole idea of hooking up the solar terrifies me and makes my husband a bit nervous too, so we will probably wait on everything but a little Jackery until we really know more.

We’ve been watching hundreds of YouTube videos a week for the past two weeks! We have a list of the things we NEED, and the things we want. Right now we are focused on needs first. Things like the ability to cook and wash dishes and have light at night. There is so much more to do, and it will probably be fall before we even get on the road in a barely renovated bus.

We might be crazy. We probably are. A least a little insane. Still, if that crazy makes us happy, gets us out of debt, lets us figure out who we are now, and enables us to see friends and family we dearly love and miss, then I’ll take a bit of that crazy any day of the week.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Friendship List by Susan Mallery

 Two childhood friends

One a widow the other a single parent

Both have baggage they need to deal with

Why?

They need to move on with their lives and truly live!

A catalyst is needed but will it be enough?

Are they ready and willing to change?

And, if willing, will they be able to do what is necessary?

 What I liked:

* The friendship between Unity and Ellen

* The eventual personal growth of both women

* The fact that both women were able to earn a good living in spite of everything

* Dagmar – Unity’s wise older friend with good sense and years of experience

* The teens…sometimes they seemed more mature than the adults

* Thaddeus: a good man that deserved the best – a great book boyfriend

* Keith: a coach, father, and overall good man though a bit neurotic about keeping his daughter safe

* That there was a happy ending for all

 What I didn’t like:

* More a quibble than a dislike-  I had a bit of difficulty believing that two 34-year-old women would behave as Unity and Ellen did…they seemed, in some ways, to have been stunted in their teens although their backstories indicated why this might have happened

* Wondering what happened to Luka – missed him in the epilogue

 Did I enjoy this book? For the most part

Would I read more books by this author? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 3-4 Stars

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Already a worldwide success in mass market and trade paperback formats, Susan Mallery’s newest hardcover is an emotional, witty, and heartfelt story about two best friends who are determined to help one another shake things up and live life to the fullest...only to discover that possibilities are everywhere--especially in the most unexpected of places.

 Ellen and Unity have been best friends basically since birth, but they couldn’t be more different. Unity married her childhood sweetheart just after high school and became an Army wife, moving from base to base…until her husband's shocking death in the line of duty leaves her a widow. Grief-stricken, it’s time for Unity to come back home to Ellen—the only person she can trust to help her rebuild her life. But Ellen has troubles of her own. Boys never seemed to notice Ellen…until one got her pregnant in high school and disappeared. Her son is now 17 and she’s wondering what to do with herself now that he’s heading off to college and he's literally her entire world.

 But now that Ellen and Unity are reunited, they’re done with their stale lives. It’s time to shake things up and start living again, knowing that they'll always have one another to lean on. So they create a list of challenges they have to accomplish--everything from getting a tattoo to skydiving to staying out all night. And whoever completes the most challenges is the winner. But with new adventures and love just around the corner, there’s no such thing as losing…

  EXCERPT

Chapter One

 “I should have married money,” Ellen Fox said glumly. “That would have solved all my problems.”

 Unity Leandre, her best friend, practically since birth, raised her eyebrows. “Because that was an option so many times and you kept saying no?”

 “It could have been. Maybe. If I’d ever, you know, met a rich guy I liked and wanted to marry.”

 “Wouldn’t having him want to marry you be an equally important part of the equation?”

 Ellen groaned. “This is not a good time for logic. This is a good time for sympathy. Or giving me a winning lottery ticket. We’ve been friends for years and you’ve never once given me a winning lottery ticket.”

 Unity picked up her coffee and smiled. “True, but I did give you my pony rides when we celebrated our eighth birthdays.”

 A point she would have to concede, Ellen thought. With their birthdays so close together, they’d often had shared parties. The summer they’d turned eight, Unity’s mom had arranged for pony rides at a nearby farm. Unity had enjoyed herself, but Ellen had fallen in love with scruffy Mr. Peepers, the crabby old pony who carried them around the paddock. At Ellen’s declaration of affection for the pony, Unity had handed over the rest of her ride tickets, content to watch Ellen on Mr. Peepers’s wide back.

 “You were wonderful about the pony rides,” Ellen said earnestly, “And I love that you were so generous. But right now I really need a small fortune. Nothing overwhelming. Just a tasteful million or so. In return, I’ll give back the rides on Mr. Peepers.”

 Unity reached across the kitchen table and touched Ellen’s arm. “He really wants to go to UCLA?”

 Ellen nodded, afraid if she spoke, she would whimper. After sucking in a breath, she managed to say, “He does. Even with a partial scholarship, the price is going to kill me.” She braced herself for the ugly reality. “Out-of-state costs, including room and board, are about sixty-four thousand dollars.” Ellen felt her heart skip a beat and not out of excitement. “A year. A year! I don’t even bring home that much after taxes. Who has that kind of money? It might as well be a million dollars.”

 Unity nodded. “Okay, now marrying money makes sense.”

 “I don’t have a lot of options.” Ellen pressed her hand to her chest and told herself she wasn’t having a heart attack. “You know I’d do anything for Coop and I’ll figure this out, but those numbers are terrifying. I have to start buying lottery scratchers and get a second job.” She looked at Unity. “How much do you think they make at Starbucks? I could work nights.”

 Unity, five inches taller, with long straight blond hair, grabbed her hands. “Last month it was University of Oklahoma and the month before that, he wanted to go to Notre Dame. Cooper has changed his mind a dozen times. Wait until you go look at colleges this summer and he figures out what he really wants, then see who offers the best financial aid before you panic.” Her mouth curved up in a smile. “No offense, Ellen, but I’ve tasted your coffee. You shouldn’t be working anywhere near a Starbucks.”

 “Very funny.” Ellen squeezed her hands. “You’re right. He’s barely seventeen. He won’t be a senior until September. I have time. And I’m saving money every month.”

 It was how she’d been raised, she thought. To be practical, to take responsibility. If only her parents had thought to mention marrying for money.

 “After our road trip, he may decide he wants to go to the University of Washington after all, and that would solve all my problems.”

 Not just the money ones, but the loneliness ones, she thought wistfully. Because after eighteen years of them being a team, her nearly grown-up baby boy was going to leave her.

 “Stop,” Unity said. “You’re getting sad. I can see it.”

 “I hate that you know me so well.”

 “No, you don’t.”

 Ellen sighed. “No, I don’t, but you’re annoying.”

 “You’re more annoying.”

 They smiled at each other.

 Unity stood, all five feet ten of her, and stretched. “I have to get going. You have young minds to mold and I have a backed-up kitchen sink to deal with, followed by a gate repair and something with a vacuum. The message wasn’t clear.” She looked at Ellen. “You going to be okay?”

 Ellen nodded. “I’m fine. You’re right. Coop will change his mind fifteen more times. I’ll wait until it’s a sure thing, then have my breakdown.”

 “See. You always have a plan.”

 They walked to the front door. Ellen’s mind slid back to the ridiculous cost of college.

 “Any of those old people you help have money?” she asked. “For the right price, I could be a trophy wife.”

 Unity shook her head. “You’re thirty-four. The average resident of Silver Pines is in his seventies.”

 “Marrying money would still solve all my problems.”

 Unity hugged her, hanging on tight for an extra second. “You’re a freak.”

 “I’m a momma bear with a cub.”

 “Your cub is six foot three. It’s time to stop worrying.”

 “That will never happen.”

 “Which is why I love you. Talk later.”

 Ellen smiled. “Have a good one. Avoid spiders.”

 “Always.”

 When Unity had driven away, Ellen returned to the kitchen where she quickly loaded the dishwasher, then packed her lunch. Cooper had left before six. He was doing some end-of-school-year fitness challenge. Something about running and Ellen wasn’t sure what. To be honest, when he went on about his workouts, it was really hard not to tune him out. Especially when she had things like tuition to worry about.

 “Not anymore today,” she said out loud. She would worry again in the morning. Unity was right—Cooper was going to keep changing his mind. Their road trip to look at colleges was only a few weeks away. After that they would narrow the list and he would start to apply. Only then would she know the final number and have to figure out how to pay for it.

 Until then she had plenty to keep her busy. She was giving pop quizzes in both fourth and sixth periods and she wanted to update her year-end tests for her two algebra classes. She needed to buy groceries and put gas in the car and go by the library to get all her summer reading on the reserve list.

 As she finished her morning routine and drove to the high school where she taught, Ellen thought about Cooper and the college issue. While she was afraid she couldn’t afford the tuition, she had to admit it was a great problem to have. Seventeen years ago, she’d been a terrified teenager, about to be a single mom, with nothing between her and living on the streets except incredibly disappointed and angry parents who had been determined to make her see the error of her ways.

 Through hard work and determination, she’d managed to pull herself together—raise Cooper, go to college, get a good job, buy a duplex and save money for her kid’s education. Yay her.

 But it sure would have been a lot easier if she’d simply married someone with money.

 *

 “How is it possible to get a C- in Spanish?” Coach Keith Kinne asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Half the population in town speaks Spanish. Hell, your sister’s husband is Hispanic.” He glared at the strapping football player standing in front of him. “Luka, you’re an idiot.”

 Luka hung his head. “Yes, Coach.”

 “Don’t ‘yes, Coach’ me. You knew this was happening—you’ve known for weeks. And did you ask for help? Did you tell me?”

 “No, Coach.”

 Keith thought about strangling the kid but he wasn’t sure he could physically wrap his hands around the teen’s thick neck. He swore silently, knowing they were where they were and now he had to fix things—like he always did with his students.

 “You know the rules,” he pointed out. “To play on any varsity team you have to get a C+ or better in every class. Did you think the rules didn’t apply to you?”

 Luka, nearly six-five and two hundred and fifty pounds, slumped even more. “I thought I was doing okay.”

 “Really? So you’d been getting better grades on your tests?”

 “Not exactly.” He raised his head, his expression miserable. “I thought I could pull up my grade at the last minute.”

 “How did that plan work out?”

 “No bueno.”

 Keith glared at him. “You think this is funny?”

 “No, Coach.”

 Keith shook his head. “You know there’s not a Spanish summer school class. That means we’re going to have to find an alternative.”

 Despite his dark skin, Luka went pale. “Coach, don’t send me away.”

 “No one gets sent away.” Sometimes athletes went to other districts that had a different summer curriculum. They stayed with families and focused on their studies.

 “I need to stay with my family. My mom understands me.”

 “It would be better for all of us if she understood Spanish.” Keith glared at the kid. “I’ll arrange for an online class. You’ll get a tutor. You will report to me twice a week, bringing me updates until you pass the class.” He sharpened his gaze. “With an A.”

 Luka took a step back. “Coach, no! An A? I can’t.”

 “Not with that attitude.”

 “But, Coach.”

 “You knew the rules and you broke them. You could have come to me for help early on. You know I’m always here for any of my students, but did you think about that or did you decide you were fine on your own?”

 “I decided I was fine on my own,” Luka mumbled.

 “Exactly. And deciding on your own is not how teams work. You go it alone and you fail.”

 Tears filled Luka’s eyes. “Yes, Coach.”

 Keith pointed to the door. Luka shuffled out. Keith sank into his chair. He’d been hard on the kid, but he needed to get the message across. Grades mattered. He was willing to help whenever he could, but he had to be told what was going on. He had a feeling Luka thought because he was a star athlete he was going to get special treatment. Maybe somewhere else, but not here. Forcing Luka to get an A sent a message to everyone who wanted to play varsity sports.

 He’d barely turned to his computer when one of the freshman boys stuck his head in the office. “Coach Kinne! Coach Kinne! There’s a girl crying in the weight room.”

 Keith silently groaned as he got up and jogged to the weight room, hoping he was about to deal with something simple like a broken arm or a concussion. He knew what to do for those kinds of things. Anything that was more emotional, honest to God, terrified him.

 He walked into the weight room and found a group of guys huddled together. A petite, dark-haired girl he didn’t know sat on a bench at the far end, her hands covering her face, her sobs audible in the uneasy silence.

 He looked at the guys. “She hurt?”

 They shifted their weight and shook their heads. Damn. So it wasn’t physical. Why didn’t things ever go his way?

 “Any of you responsible for whatever it is?” he asked.

 More shaken heads with a couple of guys ducking out.

 Keith pointed to the door so the rest of them left, then returned his attention to the crying girl. She was small and looked young. Maybe fifteen. Not one of his daughter’s friends or a school athlete—he knew all of them.

 He approached the teen, trying to look friendly rather than menacing, then sat on a nearby bench.

 “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m Coach Kinne.”

 She sniffed. Her eyes were red, her skin pale. “I know who you are.”

 “What’s going on?” Don’t be pregnant, don’t be pregnant, he chanted silently.

 More tears spilled over. “I’m pregnant. The father is Dylan, only he says he’s not, and I can’t tell my m-mom because she’ll be so mad and he said he l-loved me.”

 And just like that Keith watched his Monday fall directly into the crapper.

 *

 Keith left work exactly at three fifteen. He would be returning to his office to finish up paperwork, supervise a couple of workouts and review final grades for athletes hovering on the edge of academic problems. But first, he had pressing personal business.

 He drove the two short miles to his house, walked inside and headed directly for his seventeen-year-old daughter’s room.

 Lissa looked up from her laptop when he entered, her smile fading as she figured out he was in a mood. Despite the attitude, she was a beauty. Long dark hair, big brown eyes. Dammit all to hell—why couldn’t he have an ugly daughter who no guy would look at twice?

 “Hi, Dad,” she said, sounding wary. “What’s up?”

 “Spot check.”

 She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? There is something wrong with you. I heard what happened at school today. I’m not dumb enough to date a guy like Dylan who would tell a tree stump he loved it if it would have sex with him. I’m not sleeping with anyone and I’m not pregnant. I told you—I’m not ready to have sex, as in I’m still a virgin. You’re obsessed. Would you feel better if I wore a chastity belt?”

 “Yes, but you won’t. I’ve asked.”

 “Da-ad. Why are you like this? Pregnancy isn’t the worst thing that could happen. I could be sick and dying. Wouldn’t that be terrible?”

 “You can’t win this argument with logic. I’m irrational. I accept that. But I’m also the parent, so you have to deal with me being irrational.”

 He pointed to her bathroom. She sighed the long-suffering sigh of those cursed with impossible fathers and got up. He followed her to the doorway and watched as she pulled the small plastic container out of the bathroom drawer and opened it.

 Relief eased the tension in his body. Pills were missing. The right number of pills.

 “You are a nightmare father,” his daughter said, shoving the pills back in the drawer. “I can’t wait until I’m eighteen and I can get the shot instead of having to take birth control pills. Then you’ll only bug me every few months.”

 “I can’t wait, either.”

 “It’s not like I even have a boyfriend.”

 “You could be talking to someone online.”

 Her annoyance faded as she smiled at him. “Dad, only one of us in this house does the online dating thing and it’s not me.”

 “I don’t online date.”

 “Fine. You pick up women online, then go off and have sex with them for the weekend. It’s gross. You should fall in love with someone you’re not embarrassed to bring home to meet me.”

 “I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t want complications.”

 “But you do want to have sex. It’s yucky.”

 “Then why are we talking about it?” He pulled her close and hugged her, then kissed the top of her head. “Sorry, Lissa. I can’t help worrying about you.”

 She looked up at him. “Dad, I’m taking my pills every day, not that it matters because I’m not having sex. I’m not. I’ve barely kissed a guy. Having you as my father makes it really difficult to date. Guys don’t want to mess with you and risk being beat up.”

 “Good.”

 She smiled even as she hit him in the arm. “You’re repressing my emotional growth.”

 “Just don’t get pregnant.”

 “You need to find a more positive message. How about ‘be your best self?’”

 “That, too. Gotta go.”

 “I’m having dinner with Jessie tonight. Remember?”

 “No problem. Be home by ten.”

 He got back in his truck but before starting the engine, he quickly texted Ellen. I need a couple of beers and a friendly ear. You around tonight?

 The response came quickly. Only if you bring fried chicken. I have beer and ice cream.

 You’re on. See you at six.

Excerpted from The Friendship List by Susan Mallery, Copyright © 2020 by Susan Mallery, Inc.. Published by HQN.

The Friendship List : A Novel

Susan Mallery

On Sale Date: August 4, 2020

9781335136961, 1335136967

Hardcover

$26.99 USD, $33.50 CAD

Fiction / Romance / Contemporary

384 pages

BUY LINKS:

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

SUSAN MALLERY is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women's lives—family, friendship and romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations," and readers seem to agree—forty million copies of her books have been sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live.

 Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She's passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the two Ragdoll cats and adorable poodle who think of her as Mom.

 SOCIAL LINKS:

Twitter: @susanmallery

Facebook: @susanmallery

Instagram: @susanmallery

Author website: https://www.susanmallery.com/

Q&A with Susan Mallery

Q: Where did the inspiration for The Friendship List’s plot come from?

A: The inspiration for The Friendship List came from a reader—but I don’t think it’s exactly the story the reader was asking for. A couple years ago, a reader suggested I write a story about empty nesters, a couple whose children had grown up and were moving out. I considered the idea, but it didn’t immediately sing for me.

Then, while washing dishes—which is when I often get ideas—I thought to myself, “What if it isn’t a couple, but a single mom? And what if she had her baby really young, like in high school? She would be in her midthirties when her kid went to college. What would that be like?”

That’s the spark that led to Ellen, a single mom who had her son when she was a senior in high school. Since then, she has put his needs first, always, to the point where she hasn’t dated really at all in her adult life. When her son was little, she worked her butt off to raise him and go to college to become a math teacher.

The story starts as Ellen overhears her son telling a friend he can’t go away to college because his mom doesn’t have a life without him. They’re a team, and she needs him. Ellen is horrified that she’s holding him back, and she knows she has to do something drastic to convince him that it’s safe for him to follow his dreams.

Unity, Ellen’s best friend for as long as they both can remember, is a young widow, still mourning the death of her husband three years ago. She’s stuck in her grief, and reluctant to change that because getting over her grief might mean really letting go of the love of her life forever. But for Ellen’s sake, Unity comes up with the friendship list—a series of challenges designed to shake up their lives.

One way or another, this will be a summer that will change them forever. The Friendship List is a celebration of friendship. I know authors aren’t supposed to have favorite books, but I have to admit, this is one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written—certainly the funniest. Every day, I couldn’t wait to get to my desk, excited to write that day’s fun scene. It was pure joy from page 1 to The End, and I hope you’ll love it, too.

Q: Who is your favorite character in this novel and why?

A: I love both of the friends, but Ellen probably squeaks out a narrow win over Unity simply because her journey was so much fun. Think about it—she had her kid when she was seventeen years old, and from that moment on, her life revolved around him so she missed out on the things most people experience in their twenties. Dating, parties, bar-hopping. She was home studying and taking care of her kid.

And in fact, he’s the impetus for her to change, as well, because she  sees  that what’s best for him now is for her to let go, to get a life of her own. When she realizes all that she’s been missing, she dives in with her whole heart and body, with such enthusiasm that she had me laughing every day. Suddenly she wants to try everything all at once. Love, love, love, love her.

Q: Of the challenges in the book, which was the most fun to write about? Why?

A: Oh, that’s a tough one! I don’t know if I want to tell you my favorite-favorite because it might be too much of a spoiler. So instead, I’ll tell you one of my other favorites, which is more of a teaser than a spoiler. 😊 One of Ellen’s challenges is to wear clothes that fit, instead of her normal habit of wearing clothes that are at least three sizes too large for her. Baggy is her comfort zone. The first time she wears an outfit that shows the shape of her body, her pal Keith can’t help looking at her in a whole new way. Here’s a clip:

He stared at her in confusion. Something was different with Ellen, he thought, trying to figure out what it was.

He cataloged her appearance. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, just like always. She had on makeup maybe, which was a surprise, but made her eyes looked bluer than usual. As for what she was wearing, it was just some shirt thing and pants that stopped just below her knee. Nothing out of the ordinary except—

He swore silently. The clothes fit. For once they weren’t swirling around her, the extra fabric concealing every part of her body. He could see the shape of her waist and her hips, the outline of her thighs. And breasts. Ellen had breasts!

He realized he was staring and forced his gaze away. Of course she had breasts. Women had breasts. Ellen’s were no big deal. Only he’d never noticed them before and he didn’t want to see them now.

Q: What is your idea of a good personal challenge for yourself?

A: The challenges in The Friendship List are meant to push the women out of their comfort zone and be a little intimidating for them, so my personal challenge will have to do the same. Hmm… Oh! How about a plunging V neckline? Cleavage makes me really self-conscious, but I admire women who can proudly show off their curves.

I’m nervous just thinking about it!

Q: Do your characters tell you their stories a bit at a time or all at once? Do they ever pull you in unexpected directions changing up the plot you originally planned?

A: Yes, yes, and yes. It depends on the story. Very rarely, a story will come to me fully formed. Daughters of the Bride was like that. A gift book. That almost never happens. Usually, I get a spark of an idea. I write up some notes, then set it aside. If I’m still thinking about it, I know it has potential. I get a lot of ideas that never go anywhere. They might make fine stories for someone else, but if they’re not tugging at me, I let them go.

I’m on the extreme-plotter end of the plotter/pantser spectrum. (For those who don’t know, a plotter is a writer who plots the story in advance. A pantser is a writer who flies by the seat of her pants, without knowing where the story is going.) I generally work out story problems during my plotting process, which makes me feel free to relax and sink into the story while I’m writing.

When I get into the flow of a book, the characters do take over and sometimes they do surprise me. When they take me in a direction I didn’t expect, I have to step back to look at the big picture to adjust. I never try to force a character to do something that doesn’t feel right for him or her. Every decision must be motivated.

In The Friendship List, Unity threw me for a loop early on. I knew she was still in love with her late husband, but until I wrote a particular scene, I didn’t realize just how broken she still was. I did have to make some very serious adjustments to her road to a happy ending. And in the end, as I brought her out of that darkness, I cried. So satisfying!

Q: Do you have pets? How do the animals you have now or have had in the past influence writing animals into your stories?

A: Yes, I have three pets. Two ragdoll cats, siblings Alex and Lucy, and a miniature poodle named Kelli. I love animals of all kinds. I’m a big supporter of Seattle Humane and the amazing work they do for animals in and around Seattle.

Animals play a big role in my books. When they have a part in the story, they are genuine characters because I believe, like humans, each animal has its own unique quirks and personality traits. The book I’m working on right now will be the first book in my new series, Wishing Tree—Christmas romances—and there are two dogs in the book who I adore. Bella is a Great Dane who loves to play dress-up in cute canine ensembles, and who is intimidated by a dachshund named Burt. The first Wishing Tree romance will be out in 2021.

Q: Is there a genre of books that you have not written yet but might contemplate writing in the future? What might that be?

A: I recently toyed with the idea of writing a thriller. I even did quite a bit of research on Bitcoin, which was going to be a big subplot. I decided against the thriller, but research is never wasted—one of the characters in The Friendship List became a Bitcoin millionaire, and then a regular-money millionaire. Plus, I'm kind of proud of myself—it took me two weeks of research to be able to understand crypto-currency, but I'm now I'm at least cocktail-party level literate. 😊

Q: What was the first book you sold/published and how did you celebrate when you received the acceptance letter from the publisher?

A: The first book I sold was a historical romance called Frontier Flame. A few months after that, I sold a book to (then Silhouette) Special Edition. Both books came out the same month, so the first time I was published was with two books. It was very heady! Of course, before that and after that I had many story ideas rejected. Even now, although infrequently, one of my ideas can be rejected. It happened recently. Still stings, but not as badly.

I celebrated my first sale by calling all of my writer friends and squealing over the phone, and then by going out for a nice dinner with my husband.

Q: What do you love to do when not writing?

A: I love hanging out with my friends—and I miss that right now because of the coronavirus. Friendship is one of the most fundamental relationships in a woman’s life. You might argue “in a man’s life, too,” but from what I’ve observed, most men don’t have the same visceral need for community that women do. My husband once told me, “You’re all I need.” Which is sweet and romantic and probably true. I love him dearly, more than any other human being on the planet, but I need friends, too. My friends are the family I chose, and I nurture those relationships in every way I can.

[exile-wrath]

Athanatosora told me that you (probably) took creative writing in college. Can you share your experiences with it?

@athanatosora you fucker how dare you make me remember this 

uhhh oh boy where do I begin. kay, well for one, I go to community college, and creative writing courses are open to anyone, not just english majors. I took intro, fiction writing, and poetry writing. It’s probably a different experience than a proper uni

students I encountered:

people looking for easy humanities credits

this one lady that enrolled by mistake but was really talented at writing and had great skill with placing the reader in the setting. her descriptions style was just so good. needed to work on her dialogue but I loved her stuff I think I still have some.

Aspiring Hollywood Scriptwriter White Guys who had like. decent ideas. awful execution. a workshop piece that reeked of misogyny and got eviscerated for it by one of my friends.

this dude that had a lazy drawl and whose writing made me go ??? bc  the main character of his workshop piece was all about exploring sexuality and I’m ace and literally everything about that piece went over my fucking head. it might have been the writing style. It was 50% the overwinded descriptions and 50% the completely unnecessary masturbation description. His writing reminded me of James Joyce and I hate James Joyce.

people like London and Casey who I both met in creative writing classes. AKA, serious writers that actually have sold their soul to the words. Their existence helped me get through. I still remember their workshop pieces because they were worth remembering.

People who were exploring writing as something new to do. Beginning baby writers whose work made me war flashback to when I first started writing. Their enthusiasm levels and talent levels varied per person but they weren’t terrible to be around bc they were honestly trying.

And then there was:

Me: passionate about writing as my future career and the one (1) thing I’m good at and like to do. At that point I’d been writing for 4-5 years. 

Intro to Creative Writing spent half the time on poetry and half on prose. It was. boring. We covered really basic things like point of view, description exercises, and... nothing that really stuck out. It was definitely more catered to students that had spent all their life writing essays and never writing for fun. I snoozed a lot because I knew everything that was being covered bc I’d been writing longer than most people in that class. It was barely engaging. It focused a lot more on the technical aspects of writing, and I just... found it really boring. 

About at some point in the semester, we started doing workshop pieces! Basically we would write a thing, pick a date to be workshopped, distribute copies to everyone the week before, and on the workshop day you got to sit quietly while people discussed your piece, what they liked, what stood out, what sort of meanings they picked up, critique they had, anything. 

Workshop was uhhhh a doozy. We had to write up 1 page critiques each of them? And a lot of the time I was left reading a workshop piece and having nothing to say because I couldn’t think of anything nice or substantial to say. Oh god I think I still have the google doc with all my written critiques 

some things from my critique document:

77 words on a bag is a bit... much 

Don’t ‘list’ actions like a grocery list, it gets boring.

The last paragraph, which the narrator drives off into the sunset, I thought felt off. It feels rushed, and even though he says he’s relieved, there’s not much to indicate it in his thoughts? Mention how it felt good to finally blow off steam. How nice to finally stop giving a fuck. What’s the significance of the song that starts playing over the radio? Maybe give us the one-two lines that resonate with the narrator as he feels free again. I don’t know the song, so I didn’t get what sort of impact it was supposed to have. 

W-what tense are you trying to use. The beginning paragraph is a confusing mess of past and present and like what. /overall the whole thing confuses me; why are they talking about things in a public setting where anyone could hear, why is this girl trying to indoctrinate this guy when she’s also trying to blackmail him, that doesn’t make sense, other than their clothing, what do they look like. I just have so many questions, and no answers??

Unfortunately the worldbuilding paragraph at the beginning felt almost like a crutch, explaining things rather than you trying to fit it into the story itself. 

Okay. Lot’s of description about things, clothes and place and such, I do admit. But it feels a bit excessive and almost poetic in the way that I just. Flop. //flops out

The key thing that’s missing here is the lack of plot. No conflict, no purpose to the characters. They’re just walking and blandly commenting on strange things that they pass by. What’s... the point?? There is none. I see none. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my head turns upside-down, my body inverts, because WHERE IS THE PLOOOOT. So yeah. Add a plot. Will 100% help.

If I had to be honest, the cringe was a bit strong here. You try to use strong imagery in order to get it across to the reader, yet it somewhat backfires. It’s incredibly detail-heavy, simply swamping us with details to build the scene, yet it’s way too much sensory detail. The plot is completely halted in order to simply build the scene. It was quite tedious to read.

Ao probably neglected to tell you that I screamed about writing crits A LOT. These are some of the Bad bits from my crit though. There were definitely really good pieces, but there were also the really “what did I do to deserve this” pieces.

Okay this post is getting long but ANYWAY Creative Writing class is a doozy. Don’t go in expecting that everyone will be at the same skill level. It was somewhat fun because of the people I met, but it was a lot of reading and writing in a certain way that the teacher wanted us to. They’re good, I think, for learning technical skills, but will barely help otherwise. Trying to write creatively for a class can be killer on inspiration levels though, because the moment I had to write for an assignment rather than my own enjoyment I regretted taking it.

[always-the-little-spoon]

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 19: Sing

Scott dropped his duffle bag beside the couch in the center of the apartment Stiles shared with Derek in New York. It was looked a bit more lived in than last time with odds and ends cluttered about, Stiles clothes were strewn over everything, and last night's dishes sat on the coffee table in front of the TV.

The plates smelled faintly of tomato and cabbage, which meant Stiles had made his infamous cabbage rolls, which Scott missed like crazy. Maybe there would be leftovers in the fridge he could nab before Stiles noticed he had broken in.

Still, the place looked good; homier. But to be fair, he’d only been there for a week after Stiles had been in an accident last summer, and he’d had to stay in a cheap hotel because there hadn’t been enough room in the apartment with the Sheriff already staying with them, and Derek couldn’t handle having his home invaded by two alpha’s at the same time.

At first, Scott hadn’t got it until Stiles had taken the time to explain while Derek and the Sheriff had gone for groceries, leaving Scott on babysitting duty, which really meant keeping Stiles from walking on his caste. The Sheriff was an alpha in his own right, as Stiles had explained it to Scott. It didn’t matter that he was human. Scott respected it.

But this time, Scott was staying with them for Spring Break and the Sheriff was still back home in Beacon Hills. Sort of his and Stiles’ last hurrah before finals in their last semester of college. He couldn’t wait for Stiles to move back home. He didn’t visit enough, and the distance was hard on the pack, most of whom were still in California, minus Lydia up at MIT, and Derek, who had picked up Stiles after graduation almost four years ago.

Scott had accepted Stiles’ decision. He wished Stiles had discussed it with him, or his dad, or had told anyone, instead of dropping the bomb only minutes after accepting his diploma.

“Dude!” Stiles burst out from behind the curtain that hid his bedroom and tackled Scott in a hug, pounding him on the back excitedly before he could sneak into the kitchen for leftovers. “You’re here! What are you doing here? I thought you flew in tomorrow. Oh my god!”

“Hey, man,” Scott said, returning the hug with just as much enthusiasm. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“And surprised I am, Scotty boy, but I’m totally choked you deprived me of picking you up at the airport. There was going to be signs and glitter,” Stiles said with an expressive wave of his arms. “But hey, this is perfect. You can come with me to the show.”

Stiles unzipped Scott’s bag and began to pull clothes out without asking, scattering them on the floor and over the couch until he made a sound of triumph and held out a tight tank top and a pair of nice black jeans.

“Here. Put these on.”

Scott took the clothes thrust against his chest and blinked. “Show?” he asked before he realized that Stiles was dressed up. Or, as dressed up as Stiles ever got. Red skinny jeans, clean converse, and... “Is that Derek’s shirt?”

“Yeah, man. Eau de Derek. Keeps unwanted attention from others of the supernatural persuasion away,” Stiles said, tugging on the front of the white t-shirt that was slightly too big on him. “Trust me. There are a lot bummin’ around the city. But seriously, dude. Get changed. Derek’s set starts at nine.”

“Oh. Oh!” Scott grinned. He’d heard random tracks Stiles sent him, but he’d never seen Derek actually DJ live. “He’s spinnin’ tonight?”

“Hells yeah, man. I mean, distinct lack of actually spinnin’, sorta. I’m not really clear on the technical aspects of what it is he does up there, but hey, it’s still gonna be awesome.” Stiles thumped Scott on the back and shoved him in the direction of the bathroom. “Go make yourself pretty. Gonna be plenty of girls for you to...”

Scott was almost to the bathroom door when Stiles went quiet, and he paused. “What?”

“Ah... well, you see...” Stiles rubbed the back of his head and gave Scott a sheepish smile. “I kinda forgot with the whole ‘dude, you’re here’ that ah... Kira’s gonna be there.”

“Oh.” Scott’s heart stuttered for a moment in his chest. He hadn’t seen Kira since she had left for the desert almost five years ago.

One minute they were defeating the Beast of Gévaudan, and then she was disappearing into the desert to train for an unknown period of time with crazy animal skin wearing woman. She hadn’t told him she had finished.

“Yeah...” Stiles bit his lower lip and shrugged. “We, like, hang out, and stuff.”

“Hey, that cool.” Scott smiled, but it was weak which only made Stiles smell guiltier. “I’m glad your friends. I just... She never came back.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Scott’s hand tightened around the bundle of clothes and walked into the bathroom to change. By the time he finished, Stiles had pulled on a hoodie and stood by the front door flipping his keys lazily in his hand.

“Hey, man. This is going to be awesome,” Stiles said while they walked down the block to the main street to hail a cab. “I texted Derek. You’re gonna get the full VIP experience. Guest list, free drinks, and the works.”

Scott laughed when Stiles nearly fell on his face as he flagged down a cab, and they clambered into the back seat. He didn’t understand the directions Stiles rambled off to the driver, but by the time they pulled up outside the club, Scott’s side hurt from laughing so hard.

As they tumbled out of the cab, Stiles tossing the driver a wad of cash, they were still killing themselves as Stiles finished the story of the first time a kid had approached Derek in his fullshift. Stiles had made it sound like Derek was a very large scary dog for the sake of the driver, and not a werewolf that shifted into a rather large scary wolf, but Scott could still picture Derek in his fullshift hiding behind Stiles’ legs and whining.

“And he just sat!” Stiles choked out, gasping for air between uncontrollable snickers. “And he’s, and he’s just sitting there, with these huge puppy dog eyes and droopy ears like I’ve somehow betrayed him, while she pats his head and calls... and calls him a good... a good boy!”

Scott howled with laughter as he hung off Stiles’ shoulder. “Oh my god! He didn’t!”

“He did,” Stiles insisted, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “It was so freaking adorable, I thought I was going to lose my frickin’ mind with all the cuteness.”

Scott started heading to the back of the line snaking down the side of the club. The thump of the bass could be heard outside, even without the aid of his enhanced hearing.

“Dude,” Stiles said. He caught Scott by the elbow and lead him toward the front of the line where a bouncer stood holding a clipboard. “VIP, remember.”

“Right,” Scott said. He eyed the bouncer, whose eyes had narrowed in suspicion at Stiles’ jovial grin and bouncing step, but Stiles completely disregarded the glare narrowed in his direction.

“We’re on the guest list,” Stiles said. He pulled out his ID and nudged Scott to do the same. “Stilinski and McCall.”

Scott fumbled for his own driver’s license. He and Stiles were both legal. Actually, Stiles was almost twenty-two, but between the two of them, Stiles had a bit of a baby face.

The bouncer took their ID. He barely glanced at Stiles’ but took longer with Scott’s, eyes darting between the photo that had been taken a few years ago, and Scott. He didn’t look that different. Maybe a little older.

“California, huh,” the bouncer said. He handed back their IDs and crossed their names off the list.

“Uh, yeah.” Scott glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eye when he realized his best friend had a New York license, but Stiles was still bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning. “Just here for spring break.”

The bouncer grunted, but he unclipped the rope and waved them in. “Just keep it in your pants this time, Stilinski,” he muttered.

“I make no promises,” Stiles called over his shoulder as he dragged Scott into the deafening pulse of the club.

“Dude, you getting some?” Scott asked, but Stiles didn’t answer him. His best friend bobbed along to the beat and grinned at him.

For a few seconds, Scott had forgotten that Stiles was human. He couldn’t hear him over the pounding bass like the rest of the pack, and it’d been so long since Scott had dealt with human senses. The only member of the pack still in Beacon Hills that was human was Mason, and to be honest, Scott didn’t spend a lot of time with him.

While Scott took in the club, he trailed after Stiles to the bar where his best friend threw himself forward, shoving through the crowd, and demanded a drink from the bartender that Scott had never heard of. The bartender returned with something fruity and sweet complete with a little yellow umbrella, and Stiles grinned at Scott around the straw when he turned around.

“Get whatever you want!” Stiles leaned in and shouted to Scott, though Scott could hear him perfectly fine without him raising his voice. “Just tell them to put it on Hale’s tab, and you’re good.”

“Yeah, sure,” Scott said, but Stiles had already turned away to survey the club. He ordered a rum and coke despite the fact he couldn’t actually get drunk.

Half an hour later, Stiles was tipsy. Not drunk, but he’d had enough alcohol to start commenting on the crowd, narrating their action, and even making up stories, like how the cougar at the bar was secretly a giant preying mantis there to lure young virgins to her lair to breed with before she ate them. He’d punched Scott in the arm after and called him uncultured for not understanding the reference.

“First Star Wars, and now Buffy,” Stiles muttered. “How are we still friends?”

Suddenly, the music died and the lights dimmed. Scott looked around, trying to figure out what was wrong, but the crowd cheered. He glanced back at Stiles only to find his best friend gone.

Stiles shoved his way through the crowd towards the stage as a shadowy figure stepped up to what looked like a table covered in expensive equipment. Scott chased after him. They were in the center of the dance floor when the music started.

The giant screen that dominated the wall behind the stage glowed ‘DJ Sourwolf’ with the silhouette of a black wolf howling against the backdrop of a huge full moon, and the graphics pulsed in time to the beat. But it was the DJ’s glowing blue eyes staring down at him that caught Scott off-guard. He stopped dead in the middle of the crowd and stared up at who he quickly realized was Derek.

“Dude, your eyes,” Scott said. His eyes flashed red instinctively in response. If Derek lost control in the middle of a packed club, they were in for a world of trouble.

“It was Stiles’ idea,” Derek said without stopping whatever he was doing on the mixer in front of him as if holding a conversation across a club over heavy electronic music was completely normal. “Said I needed a gimmick.”

Stiles’ had probably been the one to name him too. Scott asked Derek, who nodded in response while he continued to spin and calmly explained Stiles had said it as a joke, but Derek had run with it.

The track changed, and Scott soon found a girl in a mini skirt and tube top pressed against his front. He flashed a grin over to Stiles, who gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Stiles danced as if no one was watching. He bounced along to the music, all limbs and no grace. Scott switched partners every few songs, but Stiles seemed oblivious to the girls, and even a few guys, that tried to approach him.

An excited squeal was the only warning Scott had before a small body darted past him and leapt at Stiles. Scott was seconds from attacking before he caught a peek at the woman’s face.

Kira looked good.

Stiles yelled over the music into her ear, and Kira glanced over at Scott. She smiled shyly and waved. Swallowing, Scott lifted a hand off the waist of the girl he was dancing with and waved awkwardly back. She didn’t say anything to him but turned away to jabber excitedly to Stiles.

Scott tried to ignore them, but he couldn’t stop watching Kira dance. Things hadn’t ended badly between them, or really ended at all. Not officially. Kira had left to train, and their break-up had been more or less unspoken.

The track changed. Stiles and Kira weren’t dancing together. More just in close proximity, but Kira grabbed Stiles arm and bounced with excitement.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, he’s playing it!” Kira squealed, and Stiles ducked his head as if suddenly shy.

Scott didn’t have time to wonder what she was talking about because suddenly he heard it. A voice singing, slightly altered and autotuned, but still familiar and easily recognizable. The lyrics made no sense. Just typical Stiles nonsense.

“Dude, is that you?” Scott yelled to Stiles.

Stiles tilted his head to the side and squinted. “What?”

Scott tried pointing to the ceiling, not quite sure where the speakers were, but hoping Stiles would figure out he meant the track. Finally, he pointed at Stiles and then at the ceiling again, and Stiles grinned.

“Hell yeah that’s me,” Stiles said. “The jackass recorded me while I was washing dishes without telling me, then mixed it. Dick move, but it's my favourite track.”

“Mine too,” Derek suddenly said.

Scott glanced up at Derek. He’d forgotten the other werewolf was there, which was odd because it was his gig. 

Derek wasn’t looking at him. Scott tilted his head to the side and followed his gaze to Stiles - who was still jumping around like an idiot and singing along to the song - with an expression Scott had never seen before. If he didn’t know better, he’d call it fond.

Eventually, Scott got close enough to Stiles, ducking an arm that nearly smacked him in the side of the head, and yelled into his ear. “Dude, hot chick, nine o’clock, checking you out.”

Stiles glanced to his left.

“I mean three o’clock,” Scott corrected.

A cute blonde, probably a few years older than them, bit her lower lip and eyed Stiles hungrily while she shimmied to the music, a light sheen of sweat on her flushed chest. She was exactly Stiles’ type. Stiles had been gone so long, Scott doubted himself a little.

“Nah. I’m good,” Stiles said. He clapped Scott on the shoulder and turned his back on the woman and continued to dance with Kira.

Scott blinked and frowned. Stiles hadn’t made a move on a single girl at the club. Maybe Stiles was already seeing someone. But that didn’t make sense because he would have told Scott. Stiles told him everything. Unless it was someone he didn’t think Scott would approve of...

Scott’s eyes darted to Kira. The kitsune’s awkward jerks and clumsy footwork were oddly endearing. She threw back her head and laughed at Stiles’ spastic flails. They weren’t dancing together so much as faced towards each other. There was a good two-feet between them, but they hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

The rest of the set passed in a blur for Scott. He couldn’t tear his attention away from Kira and Stiles, analyzing every little touch, or how Kira threw her head back, exposing her neck as she laughed, or when Stiles placed his body between Kira and other interested parties.

Stiles slung an arm around Scott’s shoulder when the music ended. “Dude, I’m gonna run backstage real quick and check on Derek.”

Scott glanced around He hadn’t even noticed Derek had disappeared from the stage, and the club DJ had replaced him. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he said. “Want me to come?”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it. Stay here and have fun. We’ll be out in a sec.” Stiles thumped Scott on the chest and melted into the crowd leaving Scott alone with Kira, who nervously twirled her hair around her fingers.

The sea of bodies around the jumped and writhed around them. Scott jerked his chin towards the bar, and Kira nodded, eagerly following him as he shoved a path through the crowd. Unprompted, Kira ordered another drink on Derek’s tab while Scott leaned back against the bar. He drummed his fingers against the polished wood and Kira sucked her drink through a little back straw.

“I’m gonna go find Stiles,” Scott finally said after several long minutes of uncomfortable silence. Kira looked like she wanted her to protest, but Scott shoved through the crowd towards the door he’d seen Stiles disappear through ten minutes ago.

Scott pushed through the door into an empty narrow back hallway that wrapped around the back of the stage and disappeared around a corner. The heavy door swung shut behind him, oddly muting the music from the club.

In a strange way, backstage reminded him of the tunnels under Eichen House. The dim fluorescent light overhead flickered, and the grey paint was cracked and peeling. He followed the hall, and just as he was about to round the corner, he heard it; a soft, breathless whimper followed by a low growl.

Speeding up, Scott threw himself around the corner, fangs and claws flashing, but nothing could have possibly prepared him for what he found.

Derek Hale buried balls deep in his best friend.

Jeans hiked down just enough, Stiles had been hoisted up and pinned to the wall, wrists restrained by one clawed hand above his head, and legs wrapped tight around Derek’s waist. He panted softly, head thrown back and eyes closed as Derek fucked into him with long, deep claiming thrusts.

“Oh my god,” Scott gasped.

Glowing blue eyes snapped toward the intrusion, and Derek snarled around his fangs, but his hips never stilled as he continued to drill into his pliant human partner.

Scott took a step backwards at the low growl, but the deep sound spurred Stiles on, and he arched back off the wall, mewling eagerly. The sounds he made weren’t even coherent to Scott. Just a string of needy whimpers and moans.

“Do you need to cum, baby boy?” Derek growled. He dragged his fangs along the vulnerable stretch of Stiles’ exposed neck, never once tearing his gaze from Scott frozen in place.

“Oh god. Oh god, please,” Stiles begged. His voice wavered and cracked with desperation. “Please, Der. I need to cum. I’ve been good. I’ve been so good for you, Der.”

“Of course you have,” Derek rumbled. He nosed along Stiles’ jaw and nibbled at pale skin damp with a sheen of sweat. “So good for me. Sing for me, baby boy.”

Stiles’ body was drawn taut like a bow, ready to snap as he came. Scott staggered back as the ragged sound of his best friend’s orgasm tore through him. The hoarse cry of Derek’s name chased Scott down the hall as he stumbled over his own feet and tore out of the back hall, into the club, panting hard.

Stiles wasn’t dating Kira because Stiles and Derek were together. They were dating. Or fucking. Or something. They were definitely something. Stiles hadn’t been interested in any of the girls at the club because he had a boyfriend. Derek was Stiles’ boyfriend. His mind was going in circles.

All Scott could see amongst the flashing lights was his best friend getting fucked by his beta. His former beta?. He wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with Derek, and now, apparently Stiles. They were best bros for life. They told each other everything. Well, not everything.

Scott gripped the back of a barstool. The wood creaked in protest under his hand. His best friend hadn’t told him that he was in a relationship.

“Scott? Scott, are you okay?” Kira’s concerned face swam into focus.

“I... I, uh...” Scott licked his lips and stared blankly down at her. “I just...”

Kira sighed. “You caught them fucking, huh. I’m glad I’m not the only one that happens to. Once, the Sheriff...” Her voice faded out as Scott only half listened to the story she told him. Something about Sheriff Stilinski taking a shower, and Derek and Stiles on the couch.

“Wait.” Scott zoned back in. “You knew?”

Blinking owlishly, Kira paused. “You didn’t?”

A hand clapped Scott on the shoulder, and he turned to find Stiles with wild sex hair and flushed cheeks grinning at him. “Found Derek,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards Derek who was smirking behind him. His eyes weren’t glowing anymore. “Ready to to go?” He paused. “You okay, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Dude.” Scott knew his eyes were glowing because Derek’s smirk only grew. “We need to talk.”

[elfnerdherder]

The Fault in My Code: Ch. 15

You can read Chapter 15 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 15: One Eye Green, One Veiled Sea Blue

           Matthew Brown lived at an apartment complex towards the outskirts of the city with decently thick walls, kudzu creeping up the side, and a door whose lock was picked with relative ease.

           As Will stepped into the apartment and lingered on the landing, he supposed he could have asked for a key, maybe explained the situation to someone who would take pity and just let him in. He was tired of having to explain himself, though. He was tired of completely understanding and recognizing the absolute expression of dismay, followed by pity. If there was one thing he’d choke on in the end, it was the pity that people gave him, now that they knew about his fucking eyes.

           What have you done to your eyes, Will?

           Matthew’s apartment was clean, mildly Spartan in furnishings with a distinct organization that showed his living alone rather than with a roommate to save on money. It was a one bedroom apartment with a plain blue bedspread, one bathroom with a plain blue curtain, and one photo in the living room of a man in profile showing one blue eye.

           He stared at that photo of himself for a long time. It was one that Alana had tagged him in on Facebook, something teasing and reminiscent of their college days when all seemed to be somewhat manageable. He looked younger in it, the lines and weariness not so set into his face. It was a stoic photo, like Matthew’s mother said, but it was the sort of photo that made him look handsome rather than fatigued –purposeful, as Red Dragon called him.

           He sat on the sofa next to the end table that housed the picture, and he tried to sink into the space that Matthew Brown lived in, the space that he existed without having to hide himself. He’d not even been able to be honest with his family, his co-workers, or his friends. He’d pretended at a relationship with his family, sneered at Lecter’s connection to Will with his co-workers, bemoaned singledom with his friends.

           There was nothing inside of the apartment that felt truly like Matthew at first. He shifted on the sofa the way he imagined Matthew would, lingered in the kitchen whose refrigerator held no magnets boasting announcements of weddings, reminders of bills, or lists for groceries. Inside of the fridge, a small bowl of leftovers contained an egg salad, condiments were minimal, and the milk had expired. Will poured the milk down the sink so that later in the week, Mrs. Brown didn’t have to when she came to collect her son’s things.

           The books in the one bookcase in the house held discussions on psychiatry, notes on soulmates. It was there that he felt he’d found some of Matthew Brown, confused and bitter as he highlighted the portion discussing half-connections and how they ultimately were like having no connection at all, both socially and neurologically. Will stood frozen by the shelves of books on anatomy, books on animals, books on zoology. There was even one of Will Graham’s own books –something he hadn’t intended to have published, but Alana had coerced him into it after a publicist made contact –discussing the ramifications of the social indoctrination of soulmates within education and upbringing. There were notes throughout it, written in a cramped hand in the margins:

           Exposure to normalized ‘need’ of soulmates at young age leads to expectations later in life socially?

           Friend groups determined in high school based on if you have soulmate or not –Graham ostracized for not having soulmate? Maybe bitter?

           Lots of derision here. –This in reference to soulmates whose sentences in prison were lighter due to having a living soulmate that stood before a judge and begged to not be kept apart.

           Bad experiences with soulmates at young age? –This one written beside the case study Will had used to explain serious cases of bullying for those that had already found their soulmate in elementary school by other children that were unable to articulate their own jealousy or worry they wouldn’t find one.

           Statistic of colored contact purchases to hide soulmate or to pretend to have soulmate –NO clear stats (Green 0394 for mine)

           Graham visited with Dr. Bloom again. Shook my hand, but he didn’t look at my eyes. –This was written beside a paragraph discussing the rarest form of soulmate pairing: the staggered connection. Sometimes, one person connected early on, and their eye changed color. It was a half-connection that had no effect on the second person until months later –years, even –when they met eyes again and a full connection was established. Will had gone on to discuss events could have occurred between the initial eye change that caused the other person to suddenly connect, and there were several sentences underlined, highlighted, near-smudged with fingers that gripped the pages tightly.

           The spine of the book was bent, much loved and worn from being read over and over and over again. The deepest indent in the spine though was the space that opened up to the discussion of the staggered connection. Will tasted his desperation there.

           He sat down beside the bookcase where he imagined Matthew would have sat, and he traced over the letters written along the margins. He could feel the hope in the words, the idea that maybe if Will had managed to look again, something would have happened in their time apart that he would finally connect back. It was in those vulnerable spaces that he finally found Matthew Brown, quietly yearning that if he just waited long enough, Will would see him for what he was –what they could be.

           I thought, what if he saw someone like me?

           He laid his head against the edge of the bookcase, book open on his lap. He was cruel when he could have been kind. He couldn’t take his anger out on Hannibal at the time, therefore he took his anger out on the catalyst, the one that dipped along the shadows and let the ball roll that inevitably led to Molly and her god damn pause.

           The one that spent the quietest parts of his days wondering if one day Will would see him and finally see.

           There was a thin notebook beside a biology book, and he slid the other book back into place, sitting down once more and propping himself up against the wall. It was a sketch book, and he opened it, his gut tight. Sketch books were intimate; writing was intimate. He was seeing too much, knowing too much, but for what he’d done to Matthew, he felt it was right that someone in the end knew him and knew him well. For the sake of the mother that hugged him beside the casket and thanked him for what he’d done, he owed it to Matthew to finally see.

           He saw himself in those pages. He hated himself a little bit more.

           They were sketches done from a mildly unpracticed hand, but a hand none-the-less. Among small doodles of animals copied from the zoology book up above, Will saw himself through the eyes of Matthew.

           His estimation of Will Graham was far kinder than Will Graham’s.

           He looked pensive, purposeful. In one he smiled, glancing off to the side, and Will recalled his meeting with a man that that had a speech disorder where he could only speak when Will looked away.

           In many, he looked like there was a glow about him, something more than flesh and bone and color. There were earnest expressions, resigned expressions. Page after page gave Will the understanding of just how someone saw him when they hardly knew him. With each intimate line and curve of graphite, there was a longing and a comfort. Three and a half years of sketches, small notes that tracked Will’s accomplishments with pride.

           March 14th, moved and began work at a small office specializing in soulmate grief

           May 21st, awarded certificate for best lecture on soulmate grief, quantified by the ratings and reviews of attendees.

           August 3rd, positive review for work posted in the journal

           October 12th, appearance in court that aided in release of a soulmate wrongfully imprisoned –cornerstone of case his analysis

           October 20th, dating someone? How long?

           February 14th, her name’s Molly, and they’re not soulmates.

           After confirming that Will and Molly weren’t soulmates, he went back to his sketches and his notes of things Will had done, things that were public knowledge and easily accessible. Alana must have mentioned something around Matthew about Will and Molly for him to have known. He traced over the pressure of the word ‘not’ for a long time, the sensation of relief at Matthew realizing that Will may not have connected to him, but at least he hadn’t connected to anyone else, either.

           He was jolted from his pained musings by the sound of the door opening, and he stood up quickly, tucking the notebook under his arm like it was his. A man he didn’t recognize stood in the doorway, and he looked appropriately confused.

           “Who the fuck are you?” the man demanded. Will noted the keys in hand, the nametag at his belt.

           He thought to maybe placate the man, maybe explain himself. The words were jarring in his throat, though. Instead, he gestured towards the photo of himself on the end table, like it should explain everything.

           People are impressionable; when silence spread and gaps exist, they make explanations, create stories to placate themselves. People have a need to know, but when little information is revealed, they make the information. This was no different. Will saw his eyes leap from Will to the photo, then back to Will. Thoughts tumbled, shifted, and before Will’s very eyes he saw the man create a world within himself, a world where Will was a soulmate that’d just endured the wrenching loss of losing his other half.

           “Oh, you…you were Matt’s…” His voice trailed off, and he nodded. “You look…hell, sorry. I’d just never seen you around. I’m his landlord –well, I’m the landlord’s son.”

           “Nice to meet you,” Will managed. “I’m leaving, if that’s alright.”

           “Yeah, shit, man…yeah.”

           Will passed by him, and there was that fucking look again –pity. He despised the pity. He paused in the doorway, notebook tucked underhand, and he glanced back.

           “His mother’s coming to get his things later this week,” he said.

           “You don’t…you don’t want them?”

           “No.”

           Will left him with that silence as well, let the man make his excuses as to why he wouldn’t want his soulmate’s remaining things. Driving back to the hotel, Will supposed that it only made sense that if he’d just lost the most important thing in his world, the last thing he’d want is to have to remember it.

-

           The woman he sat down across from was aged, both from time and from a life of secrets. She eyed him across the table, and he eyed her back, fingers tapping idly on a file.

           “You’re the biological mother of Francis Dolarhyde, Marian Vogt,” he said at last. She had mismatched eyes and the sort of hair that screamed the wife of a politician.

           “I didn’t keep contact with him,” she said curtly. Age had given her fine lines around the eyes from posed smiles and harsh glares.

           “You had an orphanage take him soon after birth where he was taken in by his grandmother, your mother, at about five years of age,” Will said, ignoring the shrill, shrewd stare she held. Behind the mismatched gaze, there was something decidedly guilty. “Later, though, you took him back once more after having three more children with your soulmate when he was aged nine.”

           “You’re telling me things I know, Dr. Graham,” she said, shifting in her chair. Her discontent was as tangible as the itch of Kevlar under his shirt. “Is there something wrong? He died a few years after he married that woman.” Her sneer told him exactly what she thought about Reba’s skin color. The derision was an itch he couldn’t reach, and he frowned.

           “As a soulmate psychiatrist, my specialty is in the studies of the psyches of children whose minds are still developing within a culture of soulmates like ours. He once saw a psychiatrist that was working with him on his grievances regarding soulmates, and we’ve attempted to analyze his mental state for our work.”

           “What do you think I can give you that a shrink can’t?”

           “He didn’t speak of his childhood very much. Only a month or so after you took care of him once again, you had him taken back to the orphanage under ‘unknown’ circumstances.” He’d been watching her face, and when he emphasized ‘unknown’, an odd sort of spasm twitched near her right eye.

           “It’s been so long that I can scarce recall,” she sniffed delicately. “He burned their house down, you know.”

           “I think you can recall,” Will replied.

           “I really can’t.”

           They considered one another from across the small desk, a spare office he’d borrowed from a local counselor’s business Dr. Avery had contacted for him. While Will’s face was grave passiveness, hers was defensive, a stark expression of a shuttered window with no way to peer behind the curtains.

           “I think he killed an animal,” Will said at last.

           “Is this how you speak to your clients?” Marian demanded.

           “You’re not a client,” Will replied. “I think he killed the family pet, and you sent him away for it.”

           The horror, unmasked at the ease in which he revealed a sordid family secret, was palpable. Will wondered if he reached out, he could touch it with his bare fingertips, wrestle it into something substantial so that he could understand Red Dragon through the mother that’d abandoned him twice.

           “That little shit wasn’t normal,” she said at last. “And my husband –my soulmate –just got sicker than sick after he was there, lost the election, lost face with the community because of that…that…boy.”

           “The three children you had with Howard Vogt were well aware that they were the product of a soulmate union and that Francis Dolarhyde was not,” said Will, ignoring the way her hands clenched a small handkerchief in her lap. It was reminiscent of old southern women in church, trying to wrangle themselves together when they heard something particularly spiritual or troublesome. “Just how did that line manifest in your home?”

           “I don’t have to deal with this. You know, you people call me, make it seem like this is something important –he’s not even alive and everyone is trying to make me take responsibility for something that isn’t mine…” She stood up to leave, fumbling with her purse as she strode towards the door, cardigan slipping off of her shoulder with the weight of the purse swinging wildly.

           “Mrs. Vogt, were you aware that he was being abused?”

           She paused at the door, turned to consider Will with a furious, horrified expression.

           “Excuse me?”

           “He didn’t speak of his past with his psychiatrist, but he did speak of his dreams. Nightmares of scissors held against his genitalia, threats of emasculation, brothers that weren’t brothers slamming his face to a mirror repetitively after a lost election. Were you aware of these things occurring in your home? Or did you simply not care because he was the product of something that wasn’t your soulmate, therefore his existence was inconsequential to you?”

           Will hated doing small speeches like that, words tumbling and falling like rocks that crashed every which way. He’d hit his mark, though; the longer he spoke, the angrier she became, the more embarrassed she became as she hissed, stalked closer and leaned over the chair she’d once sat in, fuming.

           “He took my beautiful daughter’s cat and strung it up,” she snapped, “and he had a face not even a mother could love. My mother held his life over my head like some sort of trump card because I didn’t want him, but in the end he was just like her and they burned their homes around themselves until there was nothing left. Neither one of them had soulmates for a reason, Dr. Graham. I’m the only one in my family that did, and what’s that say about them?”

           “I think that says more about you than it does about them, Mrs. Vogt,” Will replied calmly, “that you would turn one child away for not being the product of a simple chemical reaction in the brain.”

           “Fuck you and don’t ever call me again,” she snapped, and she stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

           Will sat in the aftermath of her guilty fury, and he felt that he understood Francis Dolarhyde a little bit more, the things he was searching for behind the mirrors in Mrs. Hess’ and Mrs. Panter’s eyes.

-

           He got a call much later, as he sat in his hotel room and turned the bottle of whiskey around in his hands. It was almost gone, a testament to his commitment of numbness and his commitment to drinking himself into oblivion when he didn’t have to fire on all pistons. He was only guilty at Beverly having wasted so much money on the bottle when he’d partaken of it with a gluttonous need that well drinks could have provided for less.

           It wasn’t Molly’s phone, nor was it the landline to her family’s house. Will decided to answer, head propped to the side to hold up the phone as he poured himself another glass.

           “Hello?”

           “Working late, Dr. Graham?”

           “Good evening, Hannibal,” Will said wearily. He wasn’t sure whether or not to be surprised; he’d stayed well enough away after Hannibal agreed to help them, unable to fathom staring at that space between them with no way to really close the distance. It infuriated him. The fact that it infuriated him disgusted him.

           “You don’t sound as though it is a good evening. In fact, I’d say you’re three glasses into a rather potent form of whiskey.”

           “Do you feel drunk when I’m drunk?” Will wondered.

           “You once informed me that emotions are only felt in extreme moments. For the time of our connection, I’ve come to the conclusion that either you are only able to feel things in extremities, or the distance has heightened my ability to feel your emotions due to your refusal to come close to me for the time being.” Hannibal paused to allow Will a miserable laugh. “However, when you drink it is a muted thing. The longer that time passes, the more I find there to be far more frequent bouts of muted emotions.”

           “They call that alcoholism,” Will informed him.

           “Does Molly know that you have fallen off of the wagon, dear Will?”

           Her name in Hannibal’s mouth was wrong, all wrong. Will studied the lovely color in the glass, reflected every which way by the lamp next to his favored chair, and he sighed dismally.

           “Molly paused us,” he confessed. “And it’s not because of the alcoholism.”

           “My dear, are you trying to inform me that it’s because of me?”

           “She wasn’t pausing us before you came along, that’s for damn sure.”

           Hannibal was quiet, and Will wondered what sort of secrets he kept, what sort of thoughts he was latching onto without sharing. He sipped the whiskey, savored the feeling of numbness that it provided. The after burn was much like how his skin felt whenever he was too far away from Hannibal, and that sort of torment was something he was more than happy to deal with.

           “I’ve been informed that I’m to be moved tomorrow,” Hannibal said when Will didn’t elaborate on Molly’s ill-fated pause.

           “You’re finally getting what you wanted.”

           “What is it that you think I want?” Hannibal asked. “To be closer to you? To have reason to be moved near you?”

           Will snorted. “Nothing so romantic. You wanted a way out of that institution, and I’ve provided it.”

           “An implication that the benefit of being close to you is somehow sub-par to the idea of being let out of this infernal place. Rest assured, Dr. Graham, I am also looking forward to being exposed to you without this wall between us once more.”

           “Touch starved?” Will taunted. The moment he said it, he wished that he hadn’t. It sounded almost flirtatious, something he’d say to someone he wanted to touch. A wicked, dark part of his mind whispered, don’t you, though? Don’t you want to touch?

           “As much as you are, I think,” Hannibal replied dryly. “Although with the alcohol you’ve supplied yourself with, it’s difficult to tell. Was that your intention?”

           “Why did you call, Hannibal?” Will asked, exasperated.

           “You can hide many things through your use of self-medication, but you can’t hide your pain at your dear Molly pausing you,” Hannibal said. “In your mind, everything you’ve done now seems almost inconsequential, that you can’t return to her and say that all is well.”

           “I don’t want to talk about that,” Will snapped.

          ��“She’d have paused you whether or not you connected to me, dear Will,” Hannibal assured him. “In the end, I was not the one that brought the darkness out of you. I merely showed you mine in return.”

           Will finished off the whiskey with a vengeance, slamming the glass down with a little too much force. He thought about pacing, about throwing a few more things, about cursing the shadow of Red Dragon lurking nearby, but ultimately he slumped down farther in his chair and swallowed heavily, the room hot and blurring around him like the landscape was melting at his very feet.

           “You don’t have to remind me,” he whispered, aggrieved. “I am well aware what sort of person I am, Hannibal. The kind of person that I will always be.”

-

Will didn’t have to see Hannibal get strapped into something much resembling a dolly that packed large boxes for delivery men, nor did he have to see him get wrapped into a straightjacket. He sat outside of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane the next day in the early morning and enjoyed a small cup of coffee that didn’t come from the BAU break room. The last time he’d shared a cup with Beverly, he’d had to ruminate on the taste of two-day-old, reused beans. She hadn’t been sorry in the least when he’d pointed it out.

           Beside him, a soulmate argued on the phone with someone, head dipped down. Their whispers were harsh, prickling things.

           “I know she’s in prison, mother, but –oh my god, did you really just say that? Really? She’s mentally unwell, you can’t just. No. No. Yes, god, I know, but…”

           Her voice trailed off, and she cast a side-eye to Will who pointedly tried to ignore her.

           “Look. I know you think this is just stupid, you and dad aren’t soulmates, but you have no idea what it’s like. I can’t…just stay away. I can’t just…” A pause as she scrambled for words to convince her mother of her dubious choices. “I could walk up to anyone with a soulmate, and they’d tell you the same. You can try to stay away, but sooner or later it pulls you back. She’s always kind to me, mom, and we were dating long before she ever killed those people.”

           Will brushed his thumb over his lips to rub away a small, secretive smile.

           “You know what? I don’t care what Pastor Mark says, how can you call it a sin if God made us soulmates? Because it’s a girl? Would you care if I’d connected to a boy that killed people instead? That’s so homophobic!”

           The voice on the other end grew louder, but Will couldn’t quite make out the words.

           “Oh my god! Okay! Fine! God!” She hung up and threw her phone into her purse, righteous indignation. Will sipped his coffee. He could taste her pain as much as he could taste her longing. It didn’t mix well with the coffee.

           “Do you have a soulmate in there?” she asked glumly.

           “Yes.”

           “Worker or inmate?”

           Will glanced at his watch; Freddie’s article had been out for a few days now. “Inmate,” he said.

           “How long?”

           “Not too long.”

           “My mom…she says it’s not worth it. But you know, right? You know it’s worth it?” She was desperate. She saw his mismatched eyes and needed reassurance from someone that knew.

           Will watched the army of vehicles roll up, four police cars and a transport van. He finished his coffee, tossed the cup in the trash can beside him and stood up, rolling his neck back and forth to pop it. He sniffed his collar; it smelled of expensive whiskey and a long night of no sleep.

           “I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. He glanced at her green eyes that were just different enough to be a problem within her family dynamic. “If I see you around later, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

           She watched him climb into the back of the transport truck. She watched them drive away.

           Hannibal watched him from the cage he’d been locked into, arms tied tight around his torso, a mask strapped across the bottom of his face to keep his mouth from snapping. There was a part of Will that despised it, longed to rip it off of him, but another part whispered that he’d bit a nurse’s tongue off, once. His heart rate hardly changed at it.

           His heart rate changed when he’d hurt Will, though. That thought closely followed, and Will sneered at it.

           “Back in Baltimore for the time being,” Hannibal noted lightly.

           “I’d been in Maine,” Will informed him. The need to reassure him that he hadn’t been trying to run from him was as off-putting as the tie had been at Matthew Brown’s funeral.

           “What did you find in Maine, Dr. Graham?”

           “Francis Dolarhyde’s base of operation,” he replied. The agent shot him a glance at giving away such information, but at the sight of his mismatched eye, they looked to Lecter’s and couldn’t suppress a shudder. Whatever they thought was kept silent, but Will could all but taste the discomfort, closely followed by the pity. He resented the pity.

           “I’m sure that was enlightening,” said Hannibal gleefully.

           Will hmm’d an assent and shifted around the agent to sit down.

           “Comfortable?” Hannibal asked him as he settled down on the metal bench. On one side, the orderly sat prepared to administer a sedative if Hannibal became belligerent. On the other side of him, the agent wielded a shotgun.

           “…Going to be,” he said. “You?”

           “This is more fun than I’ve had in the last three years,” he replied, and Will saw through the small holes made for breathing, the twitches of a smile. “I owe it to you, dear Will.”

           “Happy to oblige,” he muttered sarcastically.