#I don’t even have the motivation to walk down the stairs. To get my suitcase. And take my school agenda. And take a pic of my drawings.

[mylove-thresher]

I have 6 art wips. Can I. Like. Not.

[jazzmynerule]

“when i’m without you”

prompt: y/n and harry have been separated for quite some time and harry isn’t coping well, liam calls y/n as he’s starting to get worried about harry and gets her to come talk to him and help him

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, arguing

…………………………………….

“harry what the fuck do you want from me?! you come home every fucking night and argue with me” i screamed at him as he rolled his eyes on the couch still flicking through channels on the tv “i can’t be fucked with you right now y/n fuck off” he moves to the other end of the couch “you fucking started this harry don’t come at me for standing up for myself” i scoffed making my way towards the fridge to grab a bottle of water “i want you the fuck out” i said feeling the tears stroll down my cheeks “what?” he instantly turned the tv off and started walking towards me “i said i want you out” i sighed wiping the tears away so he doesn’t see “baby no i’m not leaving” he tries to grab my wrist but i pulled away “i’m not putting up with you if you want to keep being like this with me, harry we are fighting every single day it’s exhausting i don’t know what you want from me” opening my bottle of water i took a massive sip to try and calm my nerves a little bit “i’m tired okay you try writing songs and perfecting your voice every day in front of management to make sure you sound good enough and trying to make sure you get an album out by the end of next month it’s fucking hard and all i want is to sleep but you like to be annoying” he pulled at his hair pacing the kitchen “annoying? harry i don’t do anything i literally say hello and ask you about your day like a normal fucking girlfriend would and you snap at me! i get it that your tired but don’t you dare fucking take it out on me!” i pushed past him pulling all of his clothes out of the closet and the draws “like i said before i want you out!” i screamed letting all those tears pore out of me along with every piece of emotion i’m feeling “fine i’ll fucking leave!” he yelled back grabbing his things shoving them in bags and his suitcase and with that he was gone with a slam of the door and it all hit me i feel to my knees cradling myself in an attempt to find some comfort

it’s been somewhat 2-3 months being without harry and it’s been absolutely horrible, all i ever do now is stay at my home. harry was my reason to get up in the morning and be motivated to do anything now i don’t even clean my room he left such a big gash in my life and it feels like i can’t live without him

i was just starting to clean my pigsty room when my phone started vibrating on the bed side table i quickly made my way towards my phone to check who it was and my heart rate slightly dropped for a couple milliseconds, i saw liams name pop up on my screen i swiped right to answer “y/n! hey” he greeted into the phone “hey liam” i sighed sitting on the floor “i know we haven’t spoken much since yours and harry’s breakup but i seriously need to talk to you” i could tell something was wrong bc liam has never been one to joke about something serious “why? what’s up?” i questioned “its harry, he has taken this breakup so bad, y/n he doesn’t eat properly, drinks heavily, you can hear him smashing shit in his room every minute he just sits in there crying and yelling” my heart instantly stopped and i didn’t think twice before i said “i’m on my way” fuck i shouldn’t have said that “i’ll be waiting” and with that the phone call was over and i ran towards my closet to chuck on a pair of sweats and a hoodie “fuck how am i gonna do this” small tears started trickling down my cheeks as i picked my car keys up and made my way out of my house

“liam?” i called out walking right into harry’s house knowing it’s unlocked “hey” he smiled engulfing me into a huge hug i definitely needed “he’s in his room” he smiled “thank you” i smiled back making my way up the stairs towards harry’s room knocking on the door “go away liam i told you i’m fine” harry slurred “harry it’s me” and with that the door was pulled open quite quickly “y/n?” he sobbed “i’m coming in” i walked past him and sat on his bed “y/n baby please when i’m without you there’s nothing to live for, thought i’d be fine to get through the night but i can’t” he knelt down in front of me with his head in my lap crying hard “harry i thought leaving was the right decision we were constantly fighting” i started pulling his hair into a extremely messy bun just so it doesn’t get stuck to his face “i know but i don’t think it was the right decision, y/n i can’t live without you” he lifted his face up and looked right into my eyes, his face was extremely puffy like he’s been crying for days his eyes are bloodshot and he poor lips are stuck in a semi-permanent frown “baby please i need you back i promise i’ll be better i promise i’ll stop being a prick and be a better boyfriend i just need you back or i’ll go insane” he grabbed my hand squeezing it as tight as he could “keep those promises harry” i sighed feeling his lips press kisses on my hand “i will” he smiled

[artificialqueens]

💙 Moving Out (Dayasco) - Strawberry

Summary: Daya moves out for college, and Bosco is coming with her.

A/N: Another submission for the Pride challenge! I think this is considered domestic fluff? Lol but this is a part of a series I have on AO3, I haven't brought it to AQ bc it's fucking long but if you want context, here's the series! 

How did two high school students manage to have so much junk? That was what Daya was currently asking herself. 

Her and Bosco had arrived at Daya's aunt’s house, their new home for the next year or so. Her aunt had already cleaned out the spare bedroom for them to move into, and Daya was questioning whether or not all of their stuff was going to fit in the space provided.

“How do we have so much shit?” Daya asked as they brought the first couple of suitcases up to the bedroom. 

Bosco shrugged, “I don’t know. I only have two suitcases while you have like, six. Maybe you just have hoarding tendencies.” 

While her partner was mostly correct, she was not happy with the callout. “I didn’t bring that much. Just the college existentials!”

“I’m sure you’re going to get a lot of use out of those shoes that make you seven feet tall.”

Daya gasped, “Excuse me, Gigi got me those for my birthday! I can’t leave them at my childhood home forever.”

 “Whatever. Let’s finish bringing our stuff in. We can go to the Taco Bell we passed on the way here for lunch if we finish at a decent time.” 

That motivated Daya enough to the point where she attempted and failed to bring up three suitcases at once. Bosco had to take one of them from Daya’s grip in order to get it into the house and up the stairs. 

There was only one dresser in their bedroom, and they tried to figure out if they could make it work without having to go out and buy something. Daya figured that if she hung up all of her clothes in the closet and Bosco put theirs in the dresser, they wouldn’t have to go through all of the effort of bringing another piece of furniture into the room.

It worked out. Kind of. Bosco didn’t have a ton of clothes, so they knew that everything would fit right into the dresser while Daya had only unpacked half of the clothes she had brought with her to Chicago before the closet was completely full.

“Bosco?” Daya sighed, looking down at her partner who was sitting on the floor, folding her leggings. 

They didn’t bother to look up, “Yes, princess?”

“We might have to go to Target after all. I ran out of room.” Daya was trying to avoid a trip to Target. While she loved the store, she always ended up walking around the entire store and buying things that she did not need. 

“I was secretly hoping you would say that. I promise I won’t let you spend $200 on shit we don’t need.” The only things they needed was another dresser and a new bed set. The only reason Daya didn’t bring the one on her childhood bed was because she ran out of room packing up her car and figured that her aunt would already have something on the bed. She did, but the pattern was hideous and Bosco told her they wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping under a comforter like the one provided. 

“You’re always looking out for me. That’s why I wanted you to come with me.” Bosco didn’t know that Daya had been brewing up the plan for them to move out with her since the month they got together, and she didn’t know if she should tell them that.

Daya got onto the floor with Bosco and helped them finish folding up their clothes. She didn’t see the point of folding them if they were just going to end up wearing the clothes anyway, but that’s how Bosco liked her clothes and Daya wasn’t going to try to change that fact. 

“What does this shirt say? I’m hot and a grandma too?” Daya asked, holding one of Bosco’s pajama shirts for them to see, “Where in the hell did you get this?”

The black haired girl grinned at the sight of the cropped, black shirt. “I found it at the thrift store when I was like sixteen. I’m never getting rid of it, so don’t even ask.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to get rid of it, I was going to ask if I could wear it. I let you wear my Fall Out Boy shirt all the time, it’s only fair.”

“Maybe. I call dibs on wearing it tonight, though.” Bosco smirked. “And the night after.”

Daya pouted at that. “Not fair!”

“It’s not fair for me to wear my own shirt?” 

After they finished bickering and folding and putting Bosco’s clothes into the dresser, they headed to Target. Bosco practically had to drag Daya away from the dollar spot and to the section of the store they actually needed to go to.

They settled on a dark blue bed set and Daya had a hard time picking out what dresser they had on the shelves she wanted to get. In the end, she decided to settle on a taller, skinnier one that she hoped matched the rest of the furniture in the bedroom.

“Daya, why are we walking towards the clothing section?” Bosco asked, catching onto their girlfriend taking the long way back to the self checkout. 

The brunette gripped the shopping cart tighter. “We’re not walking towards the clothing section.”

“Then why are we passing the maternity section right now?” 

The taller girl didn’t say a word. She continued towards the women’s section — she really didn’t need any more clothes but she saw a TikTok of a cute band tee in the Wild Fable section and couldn’t help herself. Bosco ended up giving in, liking the shirts as well, but they made sure to stop Daya before she had added a whole new fall wardrobe into their shopping cart. 

“See? We only spent $150!” Daya squealed as they finished ringing up all of their stuff, “And that’s with the clothes.” 

“You’re a budgeting genius, babe.”

The Taco Bell on the drive back was calling the taller girl’s name. The line was pretty long, but she knew for a fact that they had brought back their famous Nacho Fries that week, and didn’t mind waiting. Bosco didn’t mind the wait either, as long as they were able to control what music played in the car while they waited to order.

 “Moving in wasn’t so bad this time around.” Bosco commented, stealing a Nacho fry from Daya. “Moving from Montana to Missouri was a fucking nightmare. But we only had one car full of shit to bring with us this time, so that’s probably why it’s less stressful.” 

Daya supposed Bosco was right, “The only thing I’m dreading is building that fucking dresser. I wish Crystal was here to build it for me. It’s going to take me like a week to put together.”

“Come on, the Target furniture is easier to build. It’ll take us like, two hours if you don’t get distracted.” 

After getting home and opening the box, they ended up getting very distracted. At least Daya had another week until college started up to finish putting it together.

[thegryffindorprincess]

Two In A Bed//Draco Malfoy x Reader

A/N: Holy Cow I’ve finally reached 100 followers wow! Firstly, thank you! Secondly, I’ve promised myself I’m gonna post at least three days a week from now on, so feel free to send any requests you have my way! Enjoy this little cliche piece of ‘two exes have to share a bed’.

Set: Post War

Word Count: 1,550

Warnings: swearing, drinking, sexual tension, SMUT

Y/N Y/L/N dragged her black suit case behind her as she climbed the stone steps to the grand country hotel that towered in front of her. She hovered at the door, pausing to check her apperance in the glass before pushing them open. The grand hallway was decorated in silver and green- very Pansy she thought to herself as she wandered over to the check-in desk. 

“Hi, I’m a guest at Pansy and Theo’s wedding tomorrow?” The bored teenage wizard behind the desk flicked through the parchment guest list and once Y/N had told him her name, he handed her a small silver key; room three hundred and two. Making her way up the stairs, struggling a little with her suitcase, her mind began to wonder whether Draco would be attending. Since she moved to America for work, she’d heard nothing from her ex and was even slightly surprised to have been invited to Pansy’s wedding. When she reached her room, Y/N struggled with the lock before finally unlocking the door and throwing it open. As she lugged her suitcase in, eyes to the ground, she was shocked when her body hit into a much taller one. 

“What a pleasant surprise Y/L/N.” God, his voice was so smooth, Cheeks flushed red, Y/N met Draco’s bright, blue eyes, taking in his appearance. He hadn’t changed much, he was still tall, pale and well dressed. 

“What are you doing in my room?” Was the only thing Y/N could mumble as she attempted to avoid his fixed gaze. 

“My room, you mean.” Y/N huffed before showing him her key only to find out he was holding up an identical one. 

“There must be some mistake, we can’t share this room,” Y/N began to pace, “Merlin’s sake it’s only got one bed.” Draco laughed at her a little. 

“It’s not ideal for me either darling, Pansy didn’t want my wife here and now has me sharing a bed with another women.” He suddenly stood, gently sliding his feet into his shoes, “I’ll go and sort it out.” 

Y/N watched as he left, sitting down on the bed, raking her hands through her hair. She heard the door open and instead of seeing Draco, Pansy stood at the door, face contorted in a sneaky smile. 

“If this wasn’t your wedding, I would kill you.” Y/N warned as Pansy walked over to join her on the bed, Pansy giggling quietly. 

“I couldn’t help myself, you’re just still in love with eachother and I wanted to help.” She smirked. Y/N shot her a dangerous scowl, which Pansy rolled her eyes at.

“He’s married Pans, for fuck sake.” 

“Yeah, an arranged, loveless marriage.” The words left her mouth, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop to the floor, Draco entered, causing the two of them to quickly regain composure. He announced that the wizard at the desk had instructed him to talk to Pansy about his room problem. 

“Sorry Drakey, there’s no rooms left,” Pansy said slyly before making her way to the door, “so you two will just have to be very grown-up and share.” With that, she left, giving Y/N a small wink as she closed the door. 

Draco and Y/N sat in silence for a while before either of them decided to speak. Then they launched into deep conversation, talking about her travels, his work, their lives and it felt as if they’d never lost contact. Draco didn’t mention Astoria once. When dinner time rolled around, Draco got ready first, letting Y/N have the bathroom for as long as she needed. When she stepped out in her knee length green dress, Draco was unsure on where to look. Instead, he simply let Y/N take his arm as he led her to the dining hall to meet the other guests. The dinner was spectacular, Y/N wondered how much the whole thing had cost Theo’s parents. The alcohol was effectively unlimited and before long Y/N was beginning to feel a little dizzy. As guests began leaving, she attempted to stand, swaying on the balls of her feet. Draco ran to her rescue, one of his strong arms sweeping around her waist to help her up the stairs. When they reached their room, he helped her in, leaving her to stand while he fetched her water. 

“I’m going to get undressed now.” Y/N announced, half shouting, swaying in her seat as she sat down on the bed. “Don’t look freak.” Draco threw his arms up in mock innocence before turning around to face the wall while she took off her dress. “You can look now.” He turned back to look at her and audibly sighed when he saw her in just her underwear. “Liking what you see Malfoy.” Y/N teased. She stood and before she could stop herself she was standing in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leant in, closing the gap between them. Draco’s hands found her waist and he pulled her into him, returning her kiss with twice the passion. Then all of a sudden, he pulled back, pushing her from him gently. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He whispered. He silently gathered his stuff from the room and sent her a sympathetic look. “I’m married.” Y/N watched him stuff his suitcase, still standing, saying nothing. Draco strode to the door, pulling his suitcase behind him. As he opened the door to leave he turned on his heal to look back at her. “I can’t fall in love with you again.” And with that, he left. 

XXXX

Y/N awoke to gentle rays of winter sunshine peaking through the gap in the curtains. She groaned as she remembered last night and realised her head was pounding relentlessly. Y/N stretched out in the kingsize bed before rolling over to look at the time. Eleven AM- shit. The wedding started in half an hour. She quickly jumped from the bed, sprinting around the room, perfecting her makeup, curling her hair and squeezing into her silver dress. She was finished just in time and sprinted down the hotel stairs and into the grand hall, throwing herself onto her seat. 

“Rough night last night Y/L/N?” Blaise teased as she let out a deep breath. 

“Fuck off Zabini.” She spat, he let out a chuckle. The wedding was beautiful, Pansy’s dress was stunning, the ceremony emotional and the wedding dinner as immaculate as the night before. Y/N barely drunk today though, regretting her actions last night. Draco was a no show to any part in the wedding, which left Y/N with a pit in her stomach, knowing he’d gone back to his wife. She left the wedding disco early, before anyone else, making her way back to her room at only eleven at night. As she flounced down her bed there was a soft knock on the door. 

“Go away Pansy.” Y/N yelled.  The door opened anyway, causing her to groan. 

“Not Pansy.” Draco appeared at the foot of the bed, causing Y/N to sit bolt upright. He nervously played with the family ring that snaked around his pale finger. “My wife’s fucking her boss.” He sat down next to her. 

“Oh,” Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry Dray...” 

“I’m not.” Draco suddenly turned towards her, placing his hand on her thigh, making her gasp a little. “It means I can do what I wanted to do yesterday.” With that he pulled her into him by her jaw, causing Y/N to release a shaky moan. “I’m going to file for a divorce,” He whispered while placing sloppy kisses onto her neck, “not that I ever loved her.” He swiftly fell to his knees, using a firm hand to part Y/N’s legs. “Fuck.” Y/N watched as Draco rolled and buttoned his shirt sleeves, showing off his forearm, the dark mark poking dangerously under the sleeve. With that he pulled Y/N towards him, nestling his head between her legs, dragging his ring finger over her clothed slit. She moaned again quietly, watching his every movement. 

“Are you sure you want this angel?” He asked, suddenly softly. 

“Yes. Draco I-” He suddenly moved her panties to the side before pushing his face against her pussy. He began to eat out so slow and sensually, Y/N felt like she was going to explode. Draco ate her until her legs began to shake, letting her cum on his face. Then he twisted her round, arching her back with his hands. His pale hand came down onto her ass with a smack before he teased her entrance with his tip. 

“Fuck me Draco, please.” Y/N moaned quietly. Draco needed no more motivation, pushing his entire length into her, causing her to writhe beneath him. He began to pound into her at a ridiculous pace, not giving Y/N time to think. Draco’s hand came down to grab her hair into his fist, pulling her neck back so that their eyes met. 

“Sorry princess, I just want to see your face when I cum in you.” With that Y/N’s legs gave way once more, her mouth screaming his name along with many profanities. With a few more thrusts, Draco came inside of her with a groan, pulling out and inspecting his work. Then, he leant down, placing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

“I should’ve never left.” 

[hoodieofholland]

hey love. I’m obsessed with mob!tom - could you write something where mob Tom and the reader have a really big fight and Tom says something that was really mean and reader storms out and doesn’t come back until late and night and Tom is super worried :) at the beginning angst and at the end fluff.

I actually asked other writers too to write this a while ago but nobody does it and I found your account now and I’m so in love with your writing you are super talented <3

Sorry if my English is not really good- it’s not my first language

A/n: dear anon, you were reading my mind! I was actually procrastinating with a draft of some angst with mob!tom for a while, and you just motivated me to write it again hahah im obsessed with mob!tom too btw, no shame on this lol. Thanks for requesting, hope you like it!

Masterlist Request/tell me your thoughts on this

Warnings bellow the cut!

Warnings: angst, language, mention of gun.

You throw your purse over the table as you storm inside the house, walking up to your room with a stern face, straightened back and confident steps, without saying a word. Tom watched you from behind, sighing as he knew what was about to come - you were pissed.

He followed you slowly, not wanting to hurry the fight that was about to come. He knew pretty well what he has done tonight, but wasn’t planning on apologize, as he was also sure he wasn’t wrong about it.

By the time he reached the main room, you were already in the closet, taking off your jewels and putting them inside their boxes. “Baby”, he called you, but you didn’t raise your head.

Your gesturing was obviously stating your humor - or the lack of it. You wasn’t being so careful with the expensive belongings, as you always made sure to be.

“Baby”, Tom tried again, sighing this time, “Can you at least tell me what the hell did I do?”

That was the breakpoint. You lifted your head to look at him sternly. “Seriously? You gonna really act like you don’t know?”

He snorts, running a hand through his brown curls. “I mean, I know. I just don’t get why you’re so upset about it”

You laugh humorless. “I’m upset ‘cause you fucking treated me like a doll, Tom. That’s why I’m upset about it!”

“What?”, he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck, I just told that asshole of a waiter to get his shit together instead of eye-fucking you. For God’s sake, what’s wrong with that?”

"Well, maybe the fact that you made a scene in front of the manager because you were jealous?" You shout, shaking your hands. "Should I tell you the obvious fact that this man is probably fired now because of your speech?".

Tom was growing mad. He couldn't believe you were defending the guy who was flirting with you the whole dinner.

Turns out that what was supposed to be a calm and relaxing dinner quickly became something distasteful, as Tom took notice of the waiter that was serving your table that night looking at you with a dumb smile on his face the entire time. He could even see the guy talking to some other workers about you, staring at you like you were some kind of meal. So Tom did what he thought was right - he made it very clear that you were his girl and a employee shouldn't be looking at you like that.

"I don't give a single fuck if he's unemployed right now. He should take this as a lesson to not disrespect you or any other woman in his workplace", Tom said, undoing his tie and throwing it in anywhere in the wardrobe. He was tired and pissed with the whole situation - and, more important, with you, for making a big deal out of it.

"Disrespect me, or disrespect you, Tom?", you snap, eyes wide with anger. "Cause it didn't look like you were worried about me. Cause all I wanted was a peaceful dinner with my boyfriend, who actually never seems to be available to me, and you made it pretty hard for me to enjoy, just because you were mad for a guy possibly be flirting with your girl! Like I fucking belonged to you!"

"Oh, fuck off, y/n", he hissed, walking past the closet's door and going straight to the bathroom. "It's obvious I'd be pissed for the it too. You're my girl, and I don't think it's nice if other man look at you like that! Don't act like you've never done it too".

You followed him, yelling next. "Shit, you're unbelievable! What is it? Nobody can look at Tom Holland's girl? Because you're the great motherfucker mobster and I'm your fucking prize?"

Tom turned his body to glance at you again. He pointed a finger at you, eyes serious and penetrating. "I've never said it. That's not how I see this".

"Oh, really? So you care to explain me why do you keep doing that? We barely spend time together now, Tom, and when we finally get to have a nice night out, you make sure to state that I'm yours and that no other man can lay an eye on me", you sniff, unable to keep the cracked voice from coming out and show how upset you felt about it. "I don't like to feel that I'm waiting for you like a goddamn doll, Tom".

"Well, darling, I'm sorry if I'm not being enough, but that's how real world works", his voice is cold and he is avoiding looking into your eyes, his jaw clenched in a way that make it clear that he's not satisfied with the conversation's rumor. "I made it pretty clear when we first met that my job doesn't allow me to be here the entire time, so what the fuck do you expect me to do? Or do you think that this nice house and the maids, and all the fucking jewels I give you come for free? Tell me, y/n, what the hell you want from me?"

You watch his usually soft features whenever you were around turning into the one he used with his men. The veins in his neck visible, his pupils huge and thin lips trembling with anger. Tom has never spoken to you that way, and you could feel the pressure on your chest with the pain from his harsh words.

A couple of tears rolled down your cheeks and you were quick to rub them away with the back of your hand. Noticing the way you pressed your lips together lightly, Tom's face softened and he realized his posture and tone.

"I don't- I don't know, Tom", you say in a low, croaky voice. "Think I just wanted us to be a couple. I'm truly sorry if that's too much to ask you for".

His heart pained at your words and he took a few steps in your direction. "Darling, no, that's not what I-"

You stopped him, putting your arm in front of you and shaking your head. "No, that's exactly what you wanted to say. I don't know what I had in mind when we started dating, nor what I was thinking when I agreed to move in here, but I don't want to be between you and your job anymore".

He stared at you, unaware of what you were about to do, thinking about what to say. He didn't want to fight with you like that, but didn't want you to think that what you've said is true neither.

You walked past him and straight to the closet again, picking up your suitcase and grabbing a few clothes from the wardrobe. Tom watched you for a few seconds, startled, and then started to panic.

"What are you doing?"

You ignored him, trying to think what you'd possibly need to get to stay out tonight. You could get the rest of your things later, but right now you just wanted to get out of that house.

"Y/n, love, what are you doing?" He asked in desperation, reaching your arm and trying to pull you away from the wardrobe, but you just shrugged his touch off.

"What does it look like? I'm leaving, Tom! If you can't conciliate our relationship with your job, then I guess I have nothing to do here anymore". You say through gritted teeth.

"What?!" He breathed out. "Darling, you can't leave like-"

"Don't you fucking call me darling!"

Tom stops and stares at you, blinking. His mouth is agape, trying to get his thoughts together. You didn't stop packing, and when he saw the determination in your actions, he simply couldn't contain the anger growing on his chest.

"Know what? Go. Leave me! Get the fuck out of this house. I don't fucking care!" He yelled, and you jumped slightly at the sound of his guttural voice.

You wiped some of new tears and nodded once, not minding to get anything else as you closed your suitcase and walked out of the room, hands shaking from the emotions you were so hardly trying to refrain.

But before you could step out of the room and go down on the stairs, you turn around to see he stagnant at the same spot. "Fuck you, Tom. You can take all this damn jewelry. Take this, the clothes, and everything else you bought me. If I can't have you, these don't mean a single thing to me. I'm not a fucking doll, Tom".

You left, and he couldn't move for minutes straight.

*********

The night passed by and Tom didn't hear from you. He checked his phone more times than he liked to admit, but you didn't answer any calls, any messages. Nothing. He didn't even realize what time he fell asleep on the couch, waiting for some sort of sign from you, but in the morning, when he rolled out of it, his heart pounded in his chest at the realization that you were nowhere to be seen.

He asked Harrison, his best mate and the second person you most chatted with in the house, if he has seen you, but he didn't have anything. So Tom waited, trying to focus on his work for the morning and the evening, as he thought that maybe you just wanted some time to think clearer. He regretted saying those things to you already, knowing that none of that was true. Obviously he did care if you were there in the morning. He wanted to wake up with you by his side like every other day. It was all that mattered for him after all. Not the money, not the jewel, not the house. It all didn't make sense when you weren't there.

And he felt so sick thinking that you truly believed he was seeing you as a prize, as a doll that would stand beautifully waiting for him at the end of the day. He knew he should have persisted and said that you weren't right, that he loved you so much that he could take a bullet for you, right on his chest. He'd do anything for you, but didn't seem to know how to put that in words when it comes to a fight.

"Fuck!" He shouted when alone in his office, hands collapsing on the desk. It was past seven at night and he hadn't heard from you. A whole fucking day. He asked Harrison to send the men to look for you. He wouldn't force you coming back home, but he needed to be sure you were alright.

All the bad thoughts he could have were now successfully running through his mind and driving him nuts. He thought that maybe some rival mobster could have laid eyes on you, all by yourself, and tried to do something. You could be in serious danger right now, and Tom wouldn't forgive himself if that was the case.

He took a drink. He needed to clear his mind as time was passing by and his men didn't have any information about you. Your phone would be filled with unanswered calls from him, even voicemail telling you he was sorry and would do anything if you only called him back to say you were doing fine.

"Please, love, if you're listening to it... fuck, I'm so fucking sorry. I never intended to hurt you. I'm a dumbass, and you don't have to forgive me, but, please, just let me know you're fine and I'll give you your time. Just- please. I need to hear from you, y/n", he recorded, a drink on his hand and the other holding his phone firmly.

When it was 9pm, he decided he was going out to look for you himself. He just couldn't sit there waiting for a call or for his men do to something - he needed to take that pressure of his chest and no one was helping.

He took his gun, called Harrison and a few more man before heading to the living room.

"Alright, we have a few more places left" Tom started his instructions, while shoving his gun at the back of his trousers. "Harrison and I are going to her family's house. You two check in her old friend's place. Doesn't matter how far it is, I don't want you two to come back until you've looked through that fucking town-"

"Tom", Harrison cut him off, coughing a bit to get his attention. He was about to snap at him, when he followed his gaze.

And there you were, standing at the door frame in the living room, a confused expression on your face as you tried to understand what was going on in the middle of the room. Usually, Tom never had meetings in any other area than the conference room.

"What's going on?", you asked bluntly, and Tom releases a deep and relieved breath, so audible that you couldn't not take notice of.

"God, you're here", he breathed out, walking towards you in large steps. You were still mad, but also so confused with his reaction that you couldn't stop him from holding you tightly in his arms. "Fuck, darling, where were you?".

Besides his words being a bit harsh, his voice was soft and caring, worried if anything. He didn't let go of you first, kissing the top of your head for a long minute.

Harrison smiled a little seeing the both of you and dismissed the men out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Sorry, you don't need to explain", Tom shook his head and pulled away to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, a dark circle around it. He brushed your cheeks with the pad of his thumb and furrowed. "Are you okay, though?"

"Yeah, I am- but what was going on?", you insisted.

Tom cupped your face on his hands, still not believing that you were there again. "I was so fucking worried. I thought that something was off, you didn't answer any of my messages or calls... I was heading to a drive with my men to look for you".

You blink a few times, startled that Tom was so concerned all this time.

"I was in a hotel room, actually", you chew in your lower lip, kind of ashamed that you put him through such a concern. "Needed to be alone for a time, so I turned my phone off".

Tom pressed his forehead against yours. "It doesn't matter anymore, darling. It was all my fault", his voice was croaky and you felt your heart pounding inside your chest. "I should never have said those things to you-"

"It's alright, Tom-"

"No, it's not", he shook his head. "Cause it was all lies. I do fucking care if you leave me. I wouldn't stand being away from you, my love. You're everything, everything. And you're right, I don't spend much time with you, and it eats me alive, cause that's what makes me happy, being around you. All I ever wanted was to make you happy, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry if I haven't shown you how much you mean to me..."

"Shhh, Tom", you closed your eyes, hugging him by the neck and bringing him closer. "It's okay, I know it. I wasn't thinking straight too, I know you don't treat me like that. I was just too pissed, and yeah, I'd like to spend more time together, but it's alright that you don't-"

He cut you by a sweet kiss pressed on your lips, "Nothing is more important for me than you. I was too mad with that thing in the restaurant to say it right away, but I'll try harder. I'm gonna be here with you, no matter what. Work can wait".

You sigh and pull him closer, breathing his comforting scent.

"My lovely girl", Tom sighs and smile a bit. "You scared the hell out of me".

"You deserved it, idiot" you said and he laughed quietly.

"I love you, darling", he stroked your back, hiding his face in the crock of your neck. "Always".

"Love you too, Tommy".

You spent the rest of the night together, having a nice and cozy dinner at home. Tom never smiled wider than that night, and the following others were fulfilled with his promise - there was always time in your day to spend alone with your boyfriend.

*******

Taglist:

@dreamy-clousds

@pinkrockstar19

@onyourgoddamnleft

@spideyspeaches

@miraclesoflove

@hollands-taste

@zspideyy

[otomefoxystar]

Facing the Truth

Fandom: MLQC

Suitor: Victor

Warnings: SMUT and mentions of break up.

Written for @fandom-collective-writers request event

Time could be a tricky thing, there were only so many hours in the day. _ _ _ knew Victor was a busy man, and she had been understanding. She didn’t exactly have a lot of free time herself, running her own business. Lately, though the work hours have gotten longer and the nights shorter. The time they spent together was becoming less and less. Even though they shared a home, a bed. The distance between them had never been greater. She was asleep by the time he came home, and she was getting ready for work by the time he got up. The only time they spent together was a kiss on her way out the door.

As the weeks went by her heart grew heavier and heavier. She had always heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder. She didn’t know if there was any truth to that saying, with how much her heart broke every day.

There wasn’t anything special about that day, nothing different had happened. She had decided enough was enough her heart couldn’t take the loneliness any longer. She pulled out a large suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed in between sobs. She unzipped it, opening it all the way. She opened her dresser taking out all her clothes and throwing them in the suitcase. She then proceeded to the closet ripping her shirts and dresses off the hangers and throwing them into the suitcase without so much as folding anything. She put as much in the suitcase as she could, thinking she would figure out how to get the rest of her things another day. She zipped it up while putting as much pressure as she could on the suitcase to get it to zip.

She lugged the suitcase to the front door ready to leave when Victor was standing at the door with his keys in his hand ready to unlock the door.

“ _ _ _” then he looked at the suitcase beside her.

“ Don’t you think it’s kind of late to be going on a trip?” She took a deep breath, her nerves at an all-time high.

“ I’m not going on a trip.”

“ Where are you going with that suitcase?”

“ I’m leaving.”

“ What?” His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach.

“ Someone has to do it. It’s been a long time coming, we haven’t been together for a while now. It’s more like we are roommates that sleep in the same bed.” He bowed his head, he knew he’d been neglecting their relationship. He had put work first.

He never thought she would actually leave, that it would blow over. Here they were though; having the breakup conversation. Victor pushed his way into the house locking the door behind him. Making it impossible for her to leave without going through him.

“ Did something happen?” She bit her lip.

“ Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He was losing her, she was slipping through his fingers and for once he felt powerless.

“ I just want to understand”

“ Understand? Victor, it’s been months since we’ve actually spent time together. Do you know how lonely it is being alone in this big house? Not to mention do you know where my thoughts go? I wonder are you actually working? Or are you out having an affair ?” Tears rolled down her cheeks

“ I have never, and would never be unfaithful to you! We can fix this, It doesn’t have to be this way, please…Stay.”

“Victor” He had never lost control of his feelings, but in this moment when the love of his life was about to walk out on him, he couldn’t control the panic starting to come forth.

“ It’s my fault too. Don’t blame yourself.”

“ Don’t leave.” He said feeling desperate

“ Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave?” He raked his hair back with both hands and his beautiful face contorted into something of a mix of anguish and worry. The crease between his eyebrows deepened.

“ Do you love me?” She sighed.

“ That doesn’t matter; sometimes love isn’t enough to make a relationship work.”

“Just answer the question.” He said sternly.

“Fine. Yes, I love you.”

“ Do you want to be with me?” She looked irritated

“ Victor, don’t do this.”

“ Answer me!”

“ Yes, but this isn’t working!”

Victor took a step forward and looked down on her. If she didn’t know how gentle and caring he could be she would have been intimidated.

“ If you love me and want to be with me, why are you leaving me? You don’t want to fight for us?”

“ I’m tired of fighting.” He glared at her in exasperation.

“ You’re tired of fighting? You haven’t even tried! The one thing you’ve always lacked was a voice. You never speak for yourself, I’m not telepathic I cannot read your mind. How am I to know how you are feeling if you never tell me?!” She knew it was true, it’s something she always struggled with. She crossed her arms

“ Yes, sure I know this and you know that I know it, but how am I ever supposed to talk to you when we see each other for less than ten minutes?! This right now is the longest we’ve seen each other in weeks!” Victor exhaled

“ Okay, enough yelling and enough blaming. We both have our faults, but that’s what a relationship is. Working together to find a common ground. We can’t give up before we try.” She stared at him in silence. Was he getting through to her? Were her motives dissipating?

“Don’t you know I’d do anything to be with you?” He stated in a half-whisper

Unable to resist in a moment where her mind seemed to have shifted ever so slightly. He took one small step and put his lips on hers. She tensed at first only to relax a moment later, and if by instinct she put her hands onto his shoulders and he pulled her close by her waist.

Once they deepened the kiss _ _ _ felt wetness falling onto her face, as tears of her own streamed down her face. She broke the kiss to see his tearful face. She apprehensively reached out, pausing before wiping his tears away.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Victor.”

“We’ve hurt each other, but... We can move forward, we can learn from this and be stronger.” He said as he wiped her tears away.

He didn’t say anything more, only crashed his lips back to hers in a needy kiss. She wrapped her arms around him as he pushed his tongue against her lips. Obediently, she opened her mouth letting his tongue conquer her mouth. As their tongues entwined and explored each other’s mouths. He pulled away from her biting her lip gently as he released her lips.

“ Don’t leave, don’t make this be goodbye.” He placed his forehead against hers.

He moved his hands to the back of her thighs and lifted her making her yelp. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he began walking eagerly up the stairs, down the corridor to the bedroom. He kissed her once they reached the bedroom walking her over to the bed and crashing down upon it. He lifted himself off of her placing his suit jacket over the back of the reading chair.

Once he made his way back over to her he climbed on top of her lifting her to a kneeling position and lifted the hem of her shirt pulling it over her head. He started kissing down her jaw and neck while reaching his hands behind her back and unhooking her bra. He gently slid it off her arms revealing her breasts to him. He laid her back down with her head sinking into the pillows; he began his attack on her collarbone sucking at the skin there leaving a red bruise. Then proceeding to brush his hands along her curves and give her feather-light, barely there brushes over her nipples with his thumbs.

He took his forefinger and thumb and began rolling her nipples in between them. He kissed between her breasts back up to her lips. As he teased her tongue with his hand he reached down between her legs and pressed on the hem on the crotch of her jeans stroking her clit. She shifted, trying to get more friction. He removed moved his hand and unbuttoned her jeans slipping his hand under her panties. He took two fingers slipping them between her folds and pinching her clit between his fingers and moving it side to side. Then tapping at the hood quickly. She arched her back, and he took her nipple his mouth tugging at it, and she let out a loud moan.

He moved his hand lower teasing at her entrance.

“ You are so wet, have you been wanting this? For me to touch you like this?” He pushed a finger inside of her.

“ How long has it been? Two months, maybe three?” He added a second finger, plunging them into her.

“ Tell me when you want me. Dummy”

He withdrew his fingers, and she groaned at the emptiness. He stood up and proceeded to pull her jeans and underwear off her body, then discarded his own clothes. He climbed on top of her baring his weight on her as he devoured her mouth and the tip of his cock pressed against her thigh. She reached down and wrapped her hand around the base. She began slowly stroking his length; making his hips twitch. She took her thumb and rubbed at the sensitive spot underneath the head, then continuing to stroke him a couple more times before she lined him up with her entrance. He pushed himself into her in one strong stroke. Once he was fully inside of her he looked into her wanting eyes and brushed her hair out of her face and kissed each of her eyelids.

He started slow savoring the way her breathing got heavier, and the feeling of her walls squeezing his cock in all the right ways. She grabbed the back of his shoulders digging her long nails into his skin He grunted. As their lovemaking continued and their bodily fluids mixed starting to make a squelching sound. She put her hands on his buttocks pushing him in faster and tilting her hips with every thrust.

Victor pulled out till the sensitive head of his cock was sitting just barely inside of her, and he slammed back into her. Perspiration ran down his back in tiny droplets His hair began to stick to his forehead. Still connected o her; he kneeled back and lifted her hips so her lower half was elevated.

"Wrap your legs around me," he said breathlessly.

She did as asked and he began pounding into her going at a fast pace. She felt him deep inside her, at a new angle. Making her nearly lose control right there and then.

“ Are you close _ _ _?” He asked between pants. Her whines and sighs got louder and increased in frequency

“ Y-yes.” He put her hips back on the bed and hovered over her shifting his position with her legs still wrapped around him.

He pinched her nipples and ran his hand down her sweaty torso to where her clit was. He pressed down gently rubbing it in a circular motion.

“ Ahh, Victor!" She panted "Faster, harder! I’m so close.”

At her request he rammed into her faster, rubbing her clit with more pressure, and her legs started to tremble uncontrollably.

“ I’m going to cum so hard!”

Finally, she arched her back, lifting her hips off the bed and stilling her body as her release started consuming her. The feeling of warmth from her head to her curled toes washed over her; with a generous amount of fluid releasing out of her. As she saw a bright white light and her body stilled. She scratched at his back leaving red marks in their wake.

He gently thrust inside of her, helping her come down so she wasn’t overstimulated As he continued to thrust her walls clenched around him. He felt his testicles contract as the coil in his belly began to loosen as his cock became overly sensitive. Realizing they hadn’t used any protection, he immediately pulled out and she stroked his length quickly while using her other hand to squeeze and massage his testicles. It didn’t take long before he spilled over her stomach. His eyes were closed tight and when he finally caught his breath, he opened his eyes and rolled off of her.

Grabbing a tissue on the nightstand, he wiped his release off of her. They laid there catching their breaths with their chests heaving. He rolled to the side looking at her and sweeping her sweaty hair away from her flushed face. Finally, she smiled at him and placed her hand on his cheek.

Victor placed his hand over hers.

" You're staying right?" She stared into his dark eyes for a moment, before her face relaxed.

"All I want is to be by your side.”

[fandom-collective-writers]

Fandom: MLQC

Suitor: Victor

Prompt(s): “ Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave?” & “All I want is to sleep by your side.”

Requested By: I could tag you I’m so sorry! I hope you see this

Written By: @otomefoxystar

Warnings: Smut and mentions of break up

FACING THE TRUTH

Time could be a tricky thing, there were only so many hours in the day. _ _ _ knew Victor was a busy man, and she had been understanding. She didn’t exactly have a lot of free time herself, running her own business. Lately, though the work hours have gotten longer and the nights shorter. The time they spent together was becoming less and less. Even though they shared a home, a bed. The distance between them had never been greater. She was asleep by the time he came home, and she was getting ready for work by the time he got up. The only time they spent together was a kiss on her way out the door.

As the weeks went by her heart grew heavier and heavier. She had always heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder. She didn’t know if there was any truth to that saying, with how much her heart broke every day.

There wasn’t anything special about that day, nothing different had happened. She had decided enough was enough her heart couldn’t take the loneliness any longer. She pulled out a large suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed in between sobs. She unzipped it, opening it all the way. She opened her dresser taking out all her clothes and throwing them in the suitcase. She then proceeded to the closet ripping her shirts and dresses off the hangers and throwing them into the suitcase without so much as folding anything. She put as much in the suitcase as she could, thinking she would figure out how to get the rest of her things another day. She zipped it up while putting as much pressure as she could on the suitcase to get it to zip.

She lugged the suitcase to the front door ready to leave when Victor was standing at the door with his keys in his hand ready to unlock the door.

“ _ _ _” then he looked at the suitcase beside her.

“ Don’t you think it’s kind of late to be going on a trip?” She took a deep breath, her nerves at an all-time high.

“ I’m not going on a trip.”

“ Where are you going with that suitcase?”

“ I’m leaving.”

“ What?” His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach.

“ Someone has to do it. It’s been a long time coming, we haven’t been together for a while now. It’s more like we are roommates that sleep in the same bed.” He bowed his head, he knew he’d been neglecting their relationship. He had put work first.

He never thought she would actually leave, that it would blow over. Here they were though; having the breakup conversation. Victor pushed his way into the house locking the door behind him. Making it impossible for her to leave without going through him.

“ Did something happen?” She bit her lip.

“ Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He was losing her, she was slipping through his fingers and for once he felt powerless.

“ I just want to understand”

“ Understand? Victor, it’s been months since we’ve actually spent time together. Do you know how lonely it is being alone in this big house? Not to mention do you know where my thoughts go? I wonder are you actually working? Or are you out having an affair ?” Tears rolled down her cheeks

“ I have never, and would never be unfaithful to you! We can fix this, It doesn’t have to be this way, please…Stay.”

“Victor” He had never lost control of his feelings, but in this moment when the love of his life was about to walk out on him, he couldn’t control the panic starting to come forth.

“ It’s my fault too. Don’t blame yourself.”

“ Don’t leave.” He said feeling desperate

“ Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave?” He raked his hair back with both hands and his beautiful face contorted into something of a mix of anguish and worry. The crease between his eyebrows deepened.

“ Do you love me?” She sighed.

“ That doesn’t matter; sometimes love isn’t enough to make a relationship work.”

“Just answer the question.” He said sternly.

“Fine. Yes, I love you.”

“ Do you want to be with me?” She looked irritated

“ Victor, don’t do this.”

“ Answer me!”

“ Yes, but this isn’t working!”

Victor took a step forward and looked down on her. If she didn’t know how gentle and caring he could be she would have been intimidated.

“ If you love me and want to be with me, why are you leaving me? You don’t want to fight for us?”

“ I’m tired of fighting.” He glared at her in exasperation.

“ You’re tired of fighting? You haven’t even tried! The one thing you’ve always lacked was a voice. You never speak for yourself, I’m not telepathic I cannot read your mind. How am I to know how you are feeling if you never tell me?!” She knew it was true, it’s something she always struggled with. She crossed her arms

“ Yes, sure I know this and you know that I know it, but how am I ever supposed to talk to you when we see each other for less than ten minutes?! This right now is the longest we’ve seen each other in weeks!” Victor exhaled

“ Okay, enough yelling and enough blaming. We both have our faults, but that’s what a relationship is. Working together to find a common ground. We can’t give up before we try.” She stared at him in silence. Was he getting through to her? Were her motives dissipating?

“Don’t you know I’d do anything to be with you?” He stated in a half-whisper

Unable to resist in a moment where her mind seemed to have shifted ever so slightly. He took one small step and put his lips on hers. She tensed at first only to relax a moment later, and if by instinct she put her hands onto his shoulders and he pulled her close by her waist.

Once they deepened the kiss _ _ _ felt wetness falling onto her face, as tears of her own streamed down her face. She broke the kiss to see his tearful face. She apprehensively reached out, pausing before wiping his tears away.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Victor.”

“We’ve hurt each other, but... We can move forward, we can learn from this and be stronger.” He said as he wiped her tears away.

He didn’t say anything more, only crashed his lips back to hers in a needy kiss. She wrapped her arms around him as he pushed his tongue against her lips. Obediently, she opened her mouth letting his tongue conquer her mouth. As their tongues entwined and explored each other’s mouths. He pulled away from her biting her lip gently as he released her lips.

“ Don’t leave, don’t make this be goodbye.” He placed his forehead against hers.

He moved his hands to the back of her thighs and lifted her making her yelp. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he began walking eagerly up the stairs, down the corridor to the bedroom. He kissed her once they reached the bedroom walking her over to the bed and crashing down upon it. He lifted himself off of her placing his suit jacket over the back of the reading chair.

Once he made his way back over to her he climbed on top of her lifting her to a kneeling position and lifted the hem of her shirt pulling it over her head. He started kissing down her jaw and neck while reaching his hands behind her back and unhooking her bra. He gently slid it off her arms revealing her breasts to him. He laid her back down with her head sinking into the pillows; he began his attack on her collarbone sucking at the skin there leaving a red bruise. Then proceeding to brush his hands along her curves and give her feather-light, barely there brushes over her nipples with his thumbs.

He took his forefinger and thumb and began rolling her nipples in between them. He kissed between her breasts back up to her lips. As he teased her tongue with his hand he reached down between her legs and pressed on the hem on the crotch of her jeans stroking her clit. She shifted, trying to get more friction. He removed moved his hand and unbuttoned her jeans slipping his hand under her panties. He took two fingers slipping them between her folds and pinching her clit between his fingers and moving it side to side. Then tapping at the hood quickly. She arched her back, and he took her nipple his mouth tugging at it, and she let out a loud moan.

He moved his hand lower teasing at her entrance.

“ You are so wet, have you been wanting this? For me to touch you like this?” He pushed a finger inside of her.

“ How long has it been? Two months, maybe three?” He added a second finger, plunging them into her.

“ Tell me when you want me. Dummy”

He withdrew his fingers, and she groaned at the emptiness. He stood up and proceeded to pull her jeans and underwear off her body, then discarded his own clothes. He climbed on top of her baring his weight on her as he devoured her mouth and the tip of his cock pressed against her thigh. She reached down and wrapped her hand around the base. She began slowly stroking his length; making his hips twitch. She took her thumb and rubbed at the sensitive spot underneath the head, then continuing to stroke him a couple more times before she lined him up with her entrance. He pushed himself into her in one strong stroke. Once he was fully inside of her he looked into her wanting eyes and brushed her hair out of her face and kissed each of her eyelids.

He started slow savoring the way her breathing got heavier, and the feeling of her walls squeezing his cock in all the right ways. She grabbed the back of his shoulders digging her long nails into his skin He grunted. As their lovemaking continued and their bodily fluids mixed starting to make a squelching sound. She put her hands on his buttocks pushing him in faster and tilting her hips with every thrust.

Victor pulled out till the sensitive head of his cock was sitting just barely inside of her, and he slammed back into her. Perspiration ran down his back in tiny droplets His hair began to stick to his forehead. Still connected o her; he kneeled back and lifted her hips so her lower half was elevated.

"Wrap your legs around me," he said breathlessly.

She did as asked and he began pounding into her going at a fast pace. She felt him deep inside her, at a new angle. Making her nearly lose control right there and then.

“ Are you close _ _ _?” He asked between pants. Her whines and sighs got louder and increased in frequency

“ Y-yes.” He put her hips back on the bed and hovered over her shifting his position with her legs still wrapped around him.

He pinched her nipples and ran his hand down her sweaty torso to where her clit was. He pressed down gently rubbing it in a circular motion.

“ Ahh, Victor!" She panted "Faster, harder! I’m so close.”

At her request he rammed into her faster, rubbing her clit with more pressure, and her legs started to tremble uncontrollably.

“ I’m going to cum so hard!”

Finally, she arched her back, lifting her hips off the bed and stilling her body as her release started consuming her. The feeling of warmth from her head to her curled toes washed over her; with a generous amount of fluid releasing out of her. As she saw a bright white light and her body stilled. She scratched at his back leaving red marks in their wake.

He gently thrust inside of her, helping her come down so she wasn’t overstimulated As he continued to thrust her walls clenched around him. He felt his testicles contract as the coil in his belly began to loosen as his cock became overly sensitive. Realizing they hadn’t used any protection, he immediately pulled out and she stroked his length quickly while using her other hand to squeeze and massage his testicles. It didn’t take long before he spilled over her stomach. His eyes were closed tight and when he finally caught his breath, he opened his eyes and rolled off of her.

Grabbing a tissue on the nightstand, he wiped his release off of her. They laid there catching their breaths with their chests heaving. He rolled to the side looking at her and sweeping her sweaty hair away from her flushed face. Finally, she smiled at him and placed her hand on his cheek.

Victor placed his hand over hers.

" You're staying right?" She stared into his dark eyes for a moment, before her face relaxed.

"All I want is to be sleep by your side.”

They shared a small kiss before she snuggled into his side.

[fnf-amateur-writing]

Hello! Can I request a scenario where l Updike with an s/o who got kidnapped and now he has to go save them- if u feel uncomfortable with that you can just do general relationship headcanons for him!

Hey there, Anon. I'm cool with your prompt, no worries!

TW: Kidnapping and violence.

Updike finding out S/O was kidnapped

Everything was rather dull at work. Sure, dealing with anomalies can be cool, but it wears on Updike after a while. Everyday was starting to become nothing more than paperwork, keeping tabs on the freely roaming safer anomalies, and trying and failing to kill Whitmore. Fortunately, his lunch break finally started after a long and boring morning.

Once he readjusted his tie and tucked away his trusty gun in his pocket, he went on a near daily walk to a local cafe. To be honest, it wasn't all that boring, since he now got to be with you during his lunch breaks. About a month ago, you two found out that you took your breaks at the same time. The cafe was also conveniently in between your workplaces, allowing you to walk an equal distance.

Without any incidents or that pestering metal head, Updike made his last turn, with the cafe now being just two buildings down. Strangely, the police were also two buildings down, talking to an employee that Updike recognised in front of the prematurely closed cafe. Avoiding involvement, Updike quickly turned around, waiting until he out of sight of them before checking his phone. You were always there first, so you probably texted him a heads up, but his phone showed no new messages.

It was pretty annoying, but no big deal. He'll just go somewhere else, and maybe you'll be there too if he's lucky.

~~~

The phone next to him rings, whilst Updike sat alone in his office, showing the front desk receptionist's name. That was rather unusual; that number almost never calls him directly, so it was probably important enough to be an exception. "Updike speaking," he spoke in his monotone voice, which was in a tone that easily showed how he says that a dozen times a day.

"Mr. Updike, the police are requesting your presence outside."

Okay, now that was very unusual. Not that the police are here, they show up all the time whenever a case involves an anomaly. But for them to make him go outside, when they usually go up to see him or a collegue, was odd. And he had a clean record too, so it's not like they were going to arrest him.

"I'll be right there," he said. He felt somewhat stressed from the sudden request, so he went a faster pace to the lift--to which he almost pressed the wrong button. He and a cop quickly made eye contact the moment the lift opened, and he followed the man as he beckoned him outside.

"Now, I know you're busy, so I'll get right to the point," the officer says, pulling a phone from his pocket. "Do you recognise this phone and the owner of it?" Updike wish he could say no, but he couldn't; it was clearly your phone, except it now has a large crack on the screen. "Yes, it belongs to my partner. Their name is (Y/N) (L/N)." As clear as he made those sentences, his throat was sore from the dread.

"Sir, are you aware that they've been kidnapped."

... No.

~~~

Looking back at it, he wasn't sure how he kept calm the whole time as the police explained what had happened. Some man had taken you right in front of the cafe. It happened so quickly, that the witnesses didn't seem to notice anything wrong until it was too late. They contacted him when told by employees that he always sat at the same table as you.

As he rushed home, he didn't quite know what he felt. It was a mixture of sadness, anger, stress, and whatever the hell else that couldn't be named that made his hair grey. But he wasn't going home just to wait in misery until the police did something; he was going to look for some clues, as recommended by the authorities. He wasn't aware of any troubles you may have wih your family and friends, but he was informed that most kidnappings are done by people the victim knows, so he had to snoop around your stuff to see if he could find anything to report.

However, he almost slammed himself into his own front door when something else caught his attention: a plain white envelope taped to the door. There was no markings or writing on the outside, Updike noted as he took it for inspection, but he could tell it had a letter in it. Surely, it couldn't be a coincidence this showed up the same day you were taken.

As he went inside, closing the door behind him, he didn't take another step away from the door before tearing the letter open. Within the envelope was a typed letter, which had a clear message despite never mentioning you or Updike by name. Also made clear was that this was nobody you knew, nor was it an anomaly trying to spite him, but rather a particularly greedy criminal who took notice of who you were with.

The letter demanded an absurd amount of cash to be hand delivered, an amount that clearly overestimated even his own wealth. And if he brought anyone with him or brought a weapon, then you would be shot on the spot. Finally, he had until midnight to do so, too, adding onto the stress.

The stress started to become a bit much as his hair grew darker. He had no way of knowing whether the bastard was bluffing, but it wasn't worth trying to find out. But still, there didn't seem to be a good way out anyways. It felt like he was about to snap, feeling some sparks from his head and... a spark of an idea.

He went up a flight of stairs to a closet within the hallway. There wasn't anything remarkable about it's contents, but he took interest on one side, where some suitcases of his were stored. Only one of these was useful right now: a sleek metal suitcase he can't remember even using, but he remembered it being there. After grabbing the case, he ran back downstairs while neglecting to close the closet door.

Now, he wasn't going to place any money in it. No, nothing would be in it. But he had an idea, because maybe the guy didn't quite know who they decided to mess with.

~~~

Updike parked his car on the side of the road, getting out in the abandoned yet familiar area. It was a small part of the outskirts of the city that eventually lost it's population and was left to rot, which amazed him that it hasn't been torn down yet. The only people who regularly come here are the homeless and obnoxious teenagers with cameras who pretend that one of the buildings are haunted for internet clout. However, he does remember coming here too a long time ago to hunt down Whitmore a couple times.

The meeting place was a short walk away, having used to be a local library. The evening sky was getting darker by the minute, and the sun was near set behind Updike as he looked into the old library. As dark as it was, a light was barely visible from the entrance, partially blocked by empty bookshelves. With the case in hand, he walked through the shattered glass double doors and in between two of the shelves.

"I'm here."

The light across the library shifted and footsteps approached. The man looked as dodgy as he expected, except with a bit of a 1950's greaser look to him, and the gun the man held never pointed to anything but Updike. He placed the lantern onto the shelve and approached, saying "hand it over." Definitely not a negotiating type.

Time passed too slow, yet also too fast. Though he normally used his head, Updike had to channel what was within him elsewhere or else the man would shoot him seeing the thunder from his head. Hard, sure, but dong it for you was a pretty good motivator.

In three, two...

As soon as both hands were on the case's handle, Updike managed to give a hard zap through his hand. The case's material made it guaranteed it would shock him, and shock him very badly. He shouted at the sensation comparable to that of a taser, unable to pull the trigger before collapsing. Updike wasn't sure if he was conscious, but it didn't matter since he was already slamming the case into his face. Giving a man a free nose bleed such as this one was usually seen as too barbaric for Updike's taste, but damn it was satisfying.

He took the man's gun and briefly searched his pockets for anything else he might use as a weapon. He pocketed the lighter for the box of cigarettes he carried, since he might wake up and pull a fast one by burning the place down. And then there was a key, and not a usual key one would think of. In fact, Updike knew from the shape that it was meant to unlock a pair of handcuffs. It may be best if he took that as well.

"(Y/N)!" he called out, "are you there?" He made his way to the back, peeking into some rooms as he passed. He heard some sounds coming from nearby, causing him to peek through the old bathroom door. There you were, gagged with a cloth and both hands cuffed to a pipe beneath a sink. You were trying to say something, so he quickly worked the cloth off your mouth and let it fall under your chin. Upon closer inspection he now saw how disheveled you looked and that one of your eyes was black and swollen.

"G-GABRIEL!" you finally managed to scream before coughing from finally having your mouth to breathe through. "I thought you- I thought..." He hushed you before using the key he found on your cuffs, allowing you give him a much needed embrace. "Shhh, it's okay," he said as you cried, "I've dealt with him."

"Now," he picks you off the ground and carries you away from the dreaded building, "let's go. I have an interesting story for the cops."

Now for a surprise bonus ;)

Aftermath headcanons:

Unsurprisingly, you both took off work for a while.

Regardless of how well you can handle trauma, Updike WILL take you to a therapist. He's already got one booked, so you don't have a choice really.

For the first time in the relationship, Updike has been the one to initiate cuddles. He's also just as paranoid as you are, and has become somewhat clingy as a result.

When it was nearing the day you two would return to work, you discussed plans on preventing another incident. Though it may seem a bit far, you agreed on wearing a small tracking device clipped to your clothes until the fear wore off.

The forced therapy sessions did come with benefits for the future. When you eventually had to testify against your kidnapper in court, you felt more confident in your words and managed to tell them everything without a breakdown.

The man didn't stand a chance and earned himself several years in prison.

Finally, once you felt everything was behind you, you walked together to the cafe again. It was a nice cafe and it would be a shame if they stopped visiting.

Some of the regulars and employees recognised you two, and welcomed you back. And as you two sat in your usual spots with drinks on the house, you could finally say it was a pretty nice day with nothing to worry about.

[dameronology]

welcome to the jungle {frankie morales}

summary: after taking a job with the delta guys, you cross paths with frankie morales. even though you’re at each other’s throats at first, it proves to be the start of something beautiful.  (for @what-the--curtains​ - i hope you enjoy!!) - 7k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of ptsd

this is kinda ambiguous in terms of the timeline of the film but i sort of hint to the first half being before the events of t.f and the second half being after -- with that said, you can take it as you would like :D

- jazz

Your brother had dog sat for a few days.

In exchange, you were flying out to Colombia in the middle of your work week. 

You believed in favours, but these two did not feel like they were equal. 

Still, you were a person of your word - and getting to fly to South America was exciting. The job itself was exciting, if not a little...eyebrow raising. His friend, an ex-Delta soldier, needed somebody to ID a body. That part didn’t bother you - you were a forensic archaeologist after all and it was quite literally your job description. The suspicious bit was the circumstances under which you were doing it; Santiago Garcia hadn’t been entirely clear on the phone, but he’d said something about witnesses and getting the government off of our backs. You’d met Santiago a few times and you knew what kind of work he did - military stuff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably an under-the-radar kind of affair. But, you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. 

So, here you were on a warm Colombian Tuesday afternoon, suitcase trailing behind you as you trekked towards a dusty old air base. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on your back in a way that had initially been comforting, but was now just plain annoying. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but packing three jackets now felt like a stupid idea. The one one you’d worn on the plane over had been long discarded and tied around your waist, which only added to the struggle of dragging your case up the steep, sandy hill. In the distance, you could see an ATC tower glinting under the sun - the streams of light bounced right back off of it, causing you to shield your eyes with your forearm. The taxi you’d gotten from the international airport - not like this sandy little place - had only taken you so far. At least, of all things, the boots you’d opted to wear were built for this kind of thing. 

A few hundred meters up the road, you finally saw another sign of human life. A 4x4 was parked outside the abandoned terminal entrance, three men leaning against the side of it. You spotted Santiago standing a few metres away on his phone, thumbs tapping away. He didn’t look any different to the last time you saw him; dark and curly hair, a semi-friendly smile and stubble littering his chin. You hadn’t seen him since your brother’s birthday party a few months ago. 

‘Hey!’ The former soldier offered you a grin when he saw you, holding his arms open. ‘Long time, no see!’

‘Hey, Santi!’ You replied, giving him a pat on the back as he pulled you into a hug. ‘And yeah, it’s been a while. Then again, when was the last time you were in the country for more than five minutes?’

‘I’m in high demand.’ He shot back. 

Pulling back from the embrace, Santi pointed to his colleagues. There was Will and Benny, two blonde boys, both in military gear. It didn’t take much to figure out that they were brothers; same smirk, same stance, same eyes. Even if Santi hadn’t pointed it out, you would have figured as much. You were naturally deductive - came with the job. After the brothers, there was Frankie. He had dark eyes and hair, the latter of which was covered by his hat. Unlike the other three, he was wearing more casual clothes, just with a tac vest over the top. You kind of got the vibe that he didn’t want to be there - that was...comforting. 

‘What’s all this?’ Frankie asked, gesturing to the heavy metal suitcase behind you. 

‘Just...stuff. Tools.’ You replied. ‘Things I need to do my job, I guess.’

‘How heavy is it?’ 

‘Light enough that I was able to get them onto a commercial flight?’ You offered. 

‘The plane is already at max weight.’ He replied, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. 

‘God, give ‘em a break, Fish!’ Santi slapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Remember last time you said it would be fine-’

‘- hey.’ He cut him off with a harsh look. ‘We don’t talk about that.’

‘So I can bring them?’ You raised your eyebrows. ‘Because I can’t do whatever it is you need to do unless I have them.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be fine.’ Santiago gave you a comforting smile. ‘Let’s head to the jet and we’ll talk about the job.’ 

Swinging your duffle bag back over your shoulder, you picked up your suitcase and began to follow the guys further up the hill. There wasn’t anybody else around -- just sand, sun and rusting old jets. There was one in particular that they seemed to be headed towards. It was only mildly less eroded than the damaged ones around you, but the engines were running and the cargo doors were open. Santiago took your bag from your hands as you approached it, tossing it in with the other luggage. 

‘Do not throw that one, Garcia!’ You demanded, flinching slightly as he took your suitcase. 

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He shot back. 

‘Sure thing.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘You brought a medkit right?’

‘No. Why?’

‘There’s one in my duffle bag.’ You replied. ‘Side pocket. Can you grab it?’

‘We don’t need one, we’ll be fine-’

‘- Santiago Garcia, do you want me to report back to my brother that you took his baby sibling on a jungle-wide expedition without the correct medical supplies?’ You challenged. 

Santi swallowed, mind briefly flashing back to the time he’d almost been decked by said brother for letting you walk home alone. ‘Fine.’

Your triumphant smile only lasted a split second; as soon as your eyes fell on the plane, you realised you still had to get on it. Fuck. 

The engines seemed to be working fine, but it was just...old. And eroding. And making a funny sound. You were by no means an engineer, but even just binging a few episodes of Air Crash Investigations made you feel qualified enough to know that this was not where it was at in terms of air safety. You could have taken it up with Frankie, but he didn’t seem entirely approachable. 

You did trust Santi, however - though sometimes that seemed a little against your better judgement. Every crazy story that your brother had relayed back to you from their time in the military involved him making questionable decisions. Hopefully, opting to fly this hunk of metal wouldn’t be one of them. Here’s to hoping it was aerodynamic. 

‘Are you getting in or…’ Frankie peered down at you from the stairs, eyebrows raised. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘This thing is safe, right?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘What is it to me?’ You snorted. ‘Just, y’know, that I’m about to fly a few hundred thousand feet in the air and if it falls out of the sky I’ll die.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ Frankie shut the door behind you as you climbed aboard, twisting the handle shut. ‘I’ve been flying for years.’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ You brushed past him, shoulders bumping as you did. ‘Captain fucking Sully couldn’t fly this thing.’

‘The guy from Monster’s Inc?’ 

‘No, the guy who landed the plane on the Hudson? They made a movie about it, with Tom Hanks-’

‘- you should sit down now.’ Frankie turned away from you. ‘We’re about to take off.’

Your mouth fell open in slight disbelief. What an asshole. 

Santi called your name, signalling for you to sit with him in the cockpit. The seats on the plane hardly looked comfortable, and your brain was mentally working out if it was safer to sit over the wing in a crash, or by the tail. You’d definitely seen it in a documentary once, but you couldn’t remember exactly what they said. Perhaps the best option was to just be less dramatic. 

Taking a seat between Frankie and Santi, you pulled your seatbelt on and shuffled awkwardly. This was fine. Absolutely fine. Frankie was a trained pilot (and a dickhead, but that didn’t take away from his flying skills) and you were going to be fine. Fiiiiine. Maybe if you said it once more, you’d believe yourself. You were going to be fine. Yeah, there we go. 

A few deep breaths and you were certain. Or, at least you’d convinced yourself to be certain. 

‘So.’ Your eyes momentarily flicked over to where Frankie was adjusting some controls. ‘What exactly am I doing here?’

‘A few months ago, the boys and I were involved in the shoot-out.’ Santi began. ‘Pretty standard for the type of operation we were on.’

‘Right. Standard office work.’ You muttered. ‘Do go on.’

‘We thought everyone who had witnessed it had been recorded.’ He continued. ‘And everyone who we spoke to verified that it was a justified shootout. No dirty work, no ulterior motive. All valid, from a legal perspective.’

You thinned your eyes. ‘I don’t think I like where this is going.’

‘We ID’d all the bodies at the time.’ He said. ‘Including a Ricky Martinez. Except now, a guy claiming to also be Ricky Martinez has come forward, claiming that his version of events is a little different. Like, different enough to incriminate us.’

‘He’s lying, right? You guys were the good ones?’ You urged. Santiago’s silence was anything but comforting. ‘Right?’

‘Morals are all a matter of perspective.’ He replied. ‘Our labs ID’d Martinez’ body twice but we need a third party opinion before we can completely dispel the guy pretending to be him.’

‘Guess that’s where I come in?’ You asked, leaning further back into the seat as the jet began to move. 

‘Exactamente.’ Santi nodded. 

That didn’t sound too bad. Between excavating the grave, running tests and returning the body, it would take a few days tops. You could manage that. 

The jet began to pick up speed, making its ascent towards the runway. Frankie did look like he knew what he was doing -- heck, the man looked bored, even.  He barely even had to look at the dash controls as it moved forward, hands moving freely and easily to manoeuvre the plane down the runway. 

‘What are you staring at?’ Frankie glanced over at you. 

‘N-nothing.’ You replied.  ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road-’

‘- that’s a runway.’ He cut you off. 

‘Whatever.’

You were thrown backwards in your chair from the momentum of the take off. The plane angled upwards as it went up in the air, tilting sideways as it balanced out. You felt your stomach drop as the ground disappeared from beneath you, the push of the engines pulling you up higher into the sky. There was a clunk, signalling that the landing gear had retracted. 

Well, the plane had fulfilled its first purpose: taking off. That was a good sign. 

‘So,’ Benny peered over at you. ‘What’s your callsign gonna be?’

‘My name, presumably.’ You quirked a brow at him. 

‘We have Ironhead, Catfish and Pope.’ He continued. ‘But Will and I were talking, and we thought Barbie was gonna fit well.’ 

‘Oh, really?’ You sniffed. ‘And why might that be?’

‘Because you’re young, and pretty hot-’

‘- so your call sign is Benny, right?’ You cut him off. ‘Short for Benjamin? That’s really clever. Did you come up with it yourself?’

‘Maybe Eye Candy will be beter-’

Benny was cut off when you reached across, leaning over Santi to smack him in the chest with your balled up fist. All four of them jumped in surprise at your action - clearly, you weren’t somebody to be fucked with. You hadn’t worked your ass for years to get your degree to get discredited like that. 

‘Make a comment like that again and I’ll drop kick your ass out of this plane.’ You jabbed your finger towards him. 

Benny thinned his eyes at you. ‘Frankie wouldn’t let you do that. Right, Cat?’

‘You heard ‘em.’ Frankie’s eyes didn’t move from the clouds ahead. 

--

To give credit where credit was due, Frankie was good at landing planes. 

Specifically, he was good at landing planes in places where planes should not have been landed. Not that he’d had much of a choice when the engines gave in half way through the journey, a couple hundred miles over the thick Colombian jungle. 

In short, you’d been right the entire time. The damn thing wasn’t safe. Of course, you weren’t going to say I told you so right then, since it felt like a little bit of a sensitive subject. 

Now, the five of you were standing next to a pile of what-used-to-be-a-plane, defeat plastered over every one of your individual faces. You were lucky to all have made it out okay - just about. Santiago had taken a hit to the head, Benny had bitten his tongue pretty hard when you’d collided with the ground (fitting) and Frankie had split his head open. You and Will were the only ones who hadn’t sustained any injuries. He had proven to be much more tolerable than his brother. 

‘Okay, we just gotta…’ you looked around, eyes taking in the debris around you. ‘We just gotta stay calm-’

‘- stay calm?’ Frankie cut you off. ‘You’re the reason the fucking thing went down! If you hadn’t taken all that extra weight-’

‘- do you ever shut up, Morales?’ You snapped. ‘And I’m no genius but I don’t think the engines catching fire was anything to do with me bringing an extra bag onto the plane!’

‘I’m the pilot.’ He reminded you. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe it was the weight of your ego that made it go down.’ You chided. 

‘Hey - Patrick, Spongebob!’ Will finally yelled. Both your heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide. ‘Can you keep it in your pants for two minutes so we can work out how to make it through the night?’

‘Right, sorry.’ You nodded. 

You glanced around the crash site, brain calculating for a minute as you took in what little was left. The plan had landed on its belly and skidded for a few hundred metres; consequently, most of the luggage had come out on the way. That left you with the one remaining bag, the medkit you’d scared Santi into bringing and the strewn camping kit that had been ditched in the back of the fuselage. 

Pulling your phone out your pocket, you sighed when you realised that you had no signal. What had you expected? Four bars in the middle of the jungle? Probably not realistic. You did, however, have a compass app. That was something. You thought for a moment, glancing between the app and the sun’s position in the sky. It was splintering through the trees, washing heat over you like a bucket of cold water. There was a small stream a few metres away, which was a source of water at least. 

‘It’s just gone four, maybe five in the afternoon.’ You announced. ‘So we have about three hours till the sun starts to set. The water in the stream runs that way so if we follow it, we’ll find the source. People are more likely to set up civilization around a source of water.’ 

All four of them looked at you like kids who had lost their parents in Walmart.  Were they really ex-military? 

‘So, what?’ Benny frowned. ‘We...set up a new civilisation?’

‘Oh my days.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘I am spoon-feeding this to you! It means that there will be a town with people.’ 

‘That’s smart.’ Santi nodded. 

‘But before we do that, we gotta sort this out. Will, d’you know how to check for concussion?’ You asked, to which he nodded. ‘Okay, you check Santi and I’ll clean up Frankie’s head. Then we gotta gather those camping supplies and head east. Best case scenario, we find a town before sundown. Worst case scenario, we camp out for the night.’

‘Who put you in charge?’ Frankie asked.

‘Me.’ You replied. 

Taking the medkit from Santi’s hands, you quietly thanked him and led Frankie over to some rocks. He didn’t seem all that pleased when you forced him to sit on one - and he was even less pleased when you pulled his hat off. It revealed a tangle of dark curls, some of which you had to push back to get to the mark on his head. Some may have debated the importance of mentioning such a detail, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was. 

You knelt down in front of him, pulling the supplies out of the little medical kit. There weren't many, but there was enough to give him something temporary till you got to a proper hospital. If you got a proper hospital. 

‘It’s not too deep.’ You observed, running your thumb over the creases of his forehead. ‘Just a couple stitches at worst.’

‘Don’t you normally stitch up bodies?’ Frankie asked. His brown eyes were glued to the floor, following the outlines of the boot-prints that you’d left. 

‘Yeah, it’s the same kinda principle though.’ You laughed slightly. ‘Despite your attitude, I’m not gonna give you Y-incision stitches.’

‘Thanks.’

‘At least not in a place people can see them.’

Frankie snorted, but it translated to a hiss of pain as you dabbed an alcohol wipe at his forehead. Despite everything, you had a slight admiration for him. He’d managed to land the plane safely as the situation allowed and despite a few minor injuries, things could have been much worse. You didn’t quite feel like vocalising that to him when you were still stranded in the middle of the jungle, but if you ever got out? You might get Santi to pass the message on. 

‘D’ you think it’ll scar?’ Frankie quietly asked. 

‘Maybe.’ You admitted. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

‘Where did you even learn to do this stuff?’ He asked, letting out another small grunt of discomfort. ‘The stitches and the compass shit.’

You shrugged. ‘I’ve been around the block a few times. You kinda learn to be prepared.’

‘Really? As a morgue worker?’

‘Not a morgue worker.’ You grumbled. ‘Then again, I am stabbing a needle through your skin so I suppose I’ll allow the discrepancy.’ 

‘What is it you do then?’

‘I’m a forensic archaeologist.’ You explained. ‘So it’s my job to retrospectively work out how people died, whether it be because their body was found a long time after they died or because they had to be exhumed from their original resting place.’

Gently pulling the needle back from Frankie’s forehead, you cut the thread and dabbed it again with an alcohol wipe. You brushed his hair back down and placed his hat back on his head, offering him a smile. For the first time since you’d met him, he returned the gesture. 

You dusted off your knees and took a place on the rock beside Frankie, examining your handy work. Considering you’d been in a plane crash not quite an hour ago, it wasn’t too bad. At least if it did scar, it was in a place his hair covered up. And in your defense, scarring wasn’t usually something you had to worry about with your other...patients. They usually went back in the ground not long after you dealt with them. 

‘You’ll wanna sit down for a minute.’ You replied. ‘D’you feel dizzy at all? Sick?’

‘I was just in a plane crash.’

‘Me too, funnily enough.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘I s’pose it’s the most interesting job I’ve worked in a while.’

‘Same here.’ Frankie said. ‘I normally work for a flight school, so this is...something else.’

‘It’ll make me grateful when I get back to the office.’ You agreed. ‘Because it has four walls, air conditioner and co-workers who don’t give me ridiculous nicknames.’

‘Right.’ He snorted. ‘Benny can be...Benny. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.’ 

‘Benny wasn’t the asshole.’ You quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

At least Frankie had proven now that he could talk to you without being insufferable. You couldn’t work out if you’d warmed to him or if he’d warmed to you, but doing somebody’s stitches was unarguably one hell of an icebreaker. He was just a little closed off; quiet and reserved, you figured. You didn’t know what him and the Delta guys had been through, but Santi had mentioned a few things in passing that pointed to a heavy past. That was something you could relate to - your job was no walk in the park either 

‘It’s not...personal.’ Frankie glanced off into the distance. 

Will had managed to salvage the remaining bag from the jet, meaning that Santiago could use it as a seat. Benny was sitting with them, talking amongst themselves. You would have to move soon, in order to find a suitable place to camp before sundown, but taking a minute to recover from the last hour was also important. You’d barely stopped to sit down since the plane had gone down, and now you had, the shock had hit you. Your suspicions about safety had actually been correct. Not that it mattered now, but at least you had a plan to get everyone back to civilization as soon as possible. 

‘So you being an ice cold bitch isn’t to do with me? That’s a relief.’ You joked. Frankie smiled in response; his first genuine one since you’d met. 

‘The witness that you were going to ID was from the last job we all worked together.’ He explained ‘It went bad. Really bad.’

‘From what Santi said, it sure did sound like it.’ You replied. 

‘I hadn’t seen anything as bad as we did then since I was stationed out in the war zones.’ He continued. ‘So being back here, and being with the guys, has just put me on edge. I’m sorry if I was an asshole.’

‘You don’t have to say sorry.’ You shook your head. ‘I mean...actually, yeah, you were an asshole but I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Forensic archeology is no walk in the park either.’ You replied. ‘It’s my job to work out how people have died. Most of my work is on crime scenes or in war zones so I’ve seen some...dark stuff.’

‘It sticks with you.’ Frankie quietly murmured. 

‘Yeah, it does.’ You said. ‘I know you might not think it on the surface, because it’s the usual sort of job that leaves stuff weighing on your shoulders-’

‘- doesn’t matter.’ He cut you off. ‘Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how you got it or where it came from, it’s valid.’

You gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. 

---

Later that night -- and after a few hours of walking -- you and the guys had settled down into a makeshift campsite. It was just at the edge of a clearing, not too far from what looked to be a small town glinting in the distance. You did offer to keep going, but between the injuries the group had sustained, it was easier to stop for the night. You had enough of a combined skillset to find some fruit growing to snack on and to start a fire.

Santiago, Will and Benny had long passed out. It wasn’t until after they had done so that you realised there was absolutely no room left in the tent. It was only built for two people, let alone five. Where that left you in terms of sleeping arrangements, you didn’t know, but the chances of even getting to rest felt low. Your brain was on full overdrive, tired eyes darting constantly around the distance. How safe was this place? You’d managed to convince yourself that the plane was secure, and that had gone down like...well, like the fucking plane. 

You were sitting on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. It was just something to keep your brain occupied as you fought off the tiredness. The jet-lag from your flight to Colombia had hit in full force and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed -- the bed that wasn’t there. 

‘So, are you keeping a look-out?’ 

You jumped at the sound of Frankie’s voice, twisting around to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘I can take over if you want.’ He offered. ‘You should get some rest. You’ve saved our asses like three times today.’

‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fit into that tent.’ You replied. ‘I can hear them snoring from here.’

‘Is it worse than the alternative of me keeping you company?’ He softly smiled, taking a seat beside you. ‘I’ll promise not to be an asshole anymore.’

‘We spoke about this.’ You reminded him. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’

‘I still feel bad.’ He sighed. ‘Especially after you stitched me up and led us through the jungle. We woulda eaten something poisonous and died if you hadn’t stopped Benny going near those mushrooms.’

You chuckled. ‘Don’t feel bad, okay? You’ve had bad experiences before and it’s natural to be anxious.’

‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-’

‘- Frankie!’ You cut him off with a groan. ‘I’m about to be an asshole if you don’t stop saying sorry.’

‘So we’re good?’ 

‘We’re good.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Santiago, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that he would come for our kneecaps if we left you alone in the dark.’ Frankie admitted. ‘I think he likes you.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘I think you have the wrong idea. Santi is only so protective of me because he’s one of my brother’s best friends, and I guess by extension, that kind of makes him my brother too. They go right back to high school, and then they did the academy together.’

‘That’s a long time.’ Frankie nodded. ‘So you and Santi, that’s...nothing, right?’

‘Absolutely not.’ You snorted derivatively. ‘And if it was, my brother would probably end him.’

‘So,’ He took a stick from the floor, joining in with random doodles you were carving into the ground. ‘Be honest: if these stitches scar, d’you think I’ll look rugged and handsome?’

You peered over at him, eyes creasing as your smile grew wider. ‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Ouch.’ He dramatically grabbed his heart, shaking his head. ‘The correct answer was no Frankie, you already look rugged and handsome.’

‘Okay, it would make you look more rugged and handsome.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘When was the last time you stitched up a living, breathing human?’

‘College, I think.’ You replied. ‘My roommate got into a fight and didn’t have insurance, so I did some makeshift stitches with a cheap sewing kit we found at a 24/7 corner shop.’

‘We’ve all done it.’ He laughed. ‘I’m glad the stitches you gave me were actual, professional ones...right?’

‘Obviously!’ You exclaimed. ‘You’ll probably want to get them redone when we get back to...y’know, civilisation.’

‘Naturally.’ He nodded. ‘I appreciate you stitching me up. The others would not have been able to do that if it had been just us.’

You shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘What if - and feel free to blatantly reject me for my earlier actions - I took you out for a drink when we got back? Y’know, if we ever get back to civilisation.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ You smiled. 

Normally, Frankie wouldn’t have been that bold -- and you would have absolutely rejected someone who had made such a terrible first impression. But, said impression had changed. He’d been an asshole but you could see why; you could reason with it, even. God knew that you also had a tendency to become withdrawn and irritable when you were retracting back to the darker corners of your mind. Bad days on the job were hard to shake. They stuck with you for a long time. 

The conversation continued, though you couldn’t recall exactly what it was about. Nothing and everything. Growing up and going to college - or for Frankie, the military. You compared stories of Santiago; Frankie’s were better, but yours were pretty good. He told you about how he’d got his piloting license back, and you in return offered a tale of the time that your brother had gotten a DUI. 

Between the warmth of Frankie beside you and the crackling fire in front of you, it became harder and harder to fight off your exhaustion. You would have been tired enough if you were from this timezone, but your body clock was hours out of whack. With your eyelids getting heavier and the dark sky above you, it wasn’t long before you’d flopped into the pilot’s side with defeat. 

‘’M sorry.’ You murmured. 

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.’ Frankie replied. He moved his arm around your shoulders to support your weight from falling off the log - also to give a sign that he was more than okay with it. 

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. Now that his cold facade had slipped away, you could admire him a little bit more. Warm chocolate eyes, a strong jawline, and a face that just felt kind, even despite initial impressions. The warm glow of the fire illuminated his face with a soft hue, making the lighter tones of his eyes a little more visible. 

You were both still lingering from the adrenaline of the plane crash, hearts pounding in your chests and brains wrestling with the idea that you’d both made it out with minor injuries. Was that what had made you bold? The sudden reminder of your mortality? Because you never would have kissed him if it had been a normal night.

He met you halfway, lips gently capturing yours in a soft kiss. They were a little chapped from the humidity of the jungle air, but intoxicating and enchanting all the same. He tasted very, very faintly of tobacco and a little bit of mint -- had the bastard had chewing gum this whole time? Not that it was relevant. Not that anything else in the world was relevant. Not when Frankie Morales was kissing you.

Neither of you said anything after; he simply pulled you into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. Between the mental exhaustion and emotional ping-pong game that you were partaking in, you wanted to sleep. 

And sleep, you did; tangled together on the dirt of the jungle floor, not a worry in the world. 

---

Time passed. 

It passed quickly and slowly all at once. 

Once you’d found a little town and got on a coach to Medellin, you did what you came to do: identified the body, cleared their names and closed the case. Your duties at your actual job called you back home and less than a day later, you were on a plane home. 

After that, everything was a blur. You tried to keep in contact with everyone, but life was demanding as ever. Thanks to a promotion at work, you were being kept busy 24/7. Santiago finally retired from active duty and moved back to your hometown, near to his parents and to the guys. Even with the group chat he’d made - affectionately titled Plane Pals - it was hard to constantly keep up with everyone. 

You and Frankie had texted for a while, but it sort of faded out. Whenever you were able to make it back home to see him and everyone else, he was busy. You’d both tried to make plans a few times but they’d never come to fruition. You still texted each other happy birthday every year, but that was it. Like that night in the jungle, he quickly became a thing of the past. A distant memory that sometimes felt like a dream. 

It made a good dinner table story, especially for first dates. You told it on many actually, actually -- only one ever went well. So well, in fact, that you’d ended up in a four-year-relationship. A marine biologist called Simon; not boring, but not necessarily exciting either. He was nice...enough. Nice enough that you didn’t find a reason to leave. 

Looking back, you probably had a million reasons to leave. He was an asshole, for one. The last time he’d treated you right had been your first anniversary - and for some reason, you’d stuck around to celebrate your second and third and fourth. Everyone around you was settling down, and you felt that pressure too. 

Even Santiago fucking Garcia, the biggest flirt and bachelor you knew, was getting married. You’d RSVP’d a plus one - Simon, obviously - but the week before you were due to fly home for the wedding, things had finally reached a bitter end. You weren’t sad about him; more sad that you’d wasted four years of your life on the Walmart equivalent to Ned Flanders. 

On the brightside, your brother’s respective relationship had also gone through a shitty demise, meaning you could move your seats at the reception next to one another. Like Santiago, he had also retired from the military and was living his best life - even though it had taken six months for him to start speaking to his friend again. He hadn’t taken well to the idea of Santiago taking you on a job that left you in the middle of the jungle. 

‘People are gonna ask where Simon is, aren’t they?’ You muttered. 

‘Cheer up.’ Your brother nudged you. ‘I know what’ll help - let’s make a bet.’

‘What?’ You groaned. 

You were standing outside the church, waiting to be called inside. You’d waved at Benny and Will as they came in. The latter had kids of his own now, but Benny was focusing on his boxing career. He hadn’t called you Barbie again though, so that was something. 

‘I bet you twenty bucks that Santiago is divorced by the end of the year.’ Your brother grinned. 

‘No! That’s horrible.’ You slapped his arm. 

‘Whatever. That’s $20 you’re missing out on.’

‘I hate that we’re related.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shut up!’

‘You said it first!’

The two of you were cut off by someone clearing their throats.

You almost did a double take when you saw Frankie Morales stood in front of you. He didn’t look that different to his six-year-old Whatsapp profile picture; he wasn’t wearing his hat, instead wearing his hair pushed back, and rather than his old tac vest, he had a suit and tie on. You had a sort of vision of him in your head from that night, but it didn’t do him justice. He was even better in person. 

‘Catfish!’ Your brother jeered. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!’ 

‘Says you!’ Frankie gave him a slap on the back. His eyes then fell to you, and his demeanour changed a little. ‘Hey.’

‘Frankie fucking Morales.’ You murmured. ‘How’re you?’

‘Thriving.’ He replied. ‘You?’

‘Also thriving.’ You smiled. 

‘I was sorry to hear about the divorce, man.’ Your brother, as clueless as ever, didn’t sense the sudden onset of tension. 

‘Divorce?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘Is that really something you should bring up-’

‘- you brought up your break up at dinner last week-’

‘- only because you brought up yours first-’

‘- guys!’ Frankie cut you off. ‘It’s fine, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but it was a while ago now. Besides, I’ve got Leya. She takes up all my time.’

‘Leya?’ your eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that your girl-’

You were interrupted by a bell ringing, signalling that it was time for the guests to enter the church. Did the universe hate you? What kind of fucking dreadful timing was that? 

‘I’ll see you guys at the reception, right?’ Frankie asked. 

‘Sure thing, dude.’ Your brother waved him off.

The pilot turned on his heel, giving you a smile as he headed for the church. He was the best man after all, and his presence probably was needed. 

‘You asshole!’ You have his shoulder another whack. ‘I was talking to him!’

‘Jesus, calm down! And why do you hit so hard?’ He huffed. ‘What’s so important?’

‘Who’s Leya?’

‘I dunno! Do I look like Gossip Girl?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re mean.’ He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you towards the church entrance. ‘And mum made me promise to make sure you wouldn’t play Doodle Jump during the vows.’

‘That was one time!’ You snapped. 

Thankfully, the actual ceremony passed quicker than you thought. Santiago’s new wife was beautiful -- you hadn’t met Yovanna before, but both her and Santi had greeted you with a bright smile as you entered the reception. It was in a large hotel room, decorated with strings of fairy lights and a large dance floor. A lot of thought had clearly got into it. 

It made you a little sad to think about. How many weddings had you been to in the last five years? How many times had people looked at you and your former boyfriend and said you’ll be next. You weren’t even sad about him. If anything, you were mad that you’d let yourself think about marrying him. You could do better. You were going to do better.

‘Is that girl over there eying me up?’ Your brother’s voice pulled you back to reality. ‘I swear she’s been giving me heart eyes since they brought dessert out.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the cute dress! Brown hair, dark eyes-’

‘- that’s Santi’s cousin.’ You rolled your eyes. 

‘And?’

‘Santi’s cousin who is a lesbian?’ You tried to suppress a laugh. ‘Who has been with her wife for 11 years and has three children?’

He groaned. ‘Why must you find such joy in my pain?’

‘It’s what siblings are for.’ You grinned. ‘I’m gonna get a drink. D’you want anything?’

He only let out another groan in response - you took that as a no, simply giving him a pat on the head as you stood up. 

You’d tried to ask around with a few mutual friends if they knew who Leya was -- either they hadn’t seen Frankie in a while, or they pushed to know why you were asking. You couldn’t exactly play that one as suave. Nobody took a casual interest in the personal life of somebody they barely knew -- even though you did know Frankie. Quite well, actually. He’d practically recounted his entire life story to you that night. Told you things that not even Santi knew. 

‘What can I get for you?’ The bartender asked. 

‘Uhhh…’ you glanced up at the menu. ‘Is it an open bar?’

‘If I had enough money for every time someone asked me that tonight, I’d be able to pay for all the drinks.’  She shot back. ‘So, no.’

‘Jeez.’ You muttered. ‘How much for a double rum?’

‘Fifteen bucks.’

‘Fifteen?!’ You spluttered. ‘How much is tap water?’

‘Y’know, I still owe you a drink.’

Like earlier, Frankie had suddenly appeared unannounced. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw him leaning against the bar beside you, a goofy smile plastered across his face and his undone tie wrapped around his left hand. Your eyes flickered up to his forehead, examining it for a minute. 

‘So the stitches didn’t scar?’ You asked. 

He pulled back his hair, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’ 

‘You lucky duck.’ You quipped. ‘So. About that drink?’

‘This shit is insanely overpriced.’ Frankie said. ‘I can steal us a bottle of wine if you’re willing to hide and drink it?

You glanced over at your brother, who was now crying to one of Santiago’s great aunts, piling cake into his mouth. 

‘Yeah. I’m down for that.’ 

--

Five minutes later, you and Frankie were out in the gardens of the hotel. It had been raining all day, but there was an undercover patio not too far from the main reception; the walls were made out of white wood, with red roses trailing up the side. The fairly lights tangled beside them illuminated the place in a gentle glow, blue evening sky providing a beautiful contrast. Even though the showers had stopped, you could still smell the rain in the fresh evening air. 

‘Wine?’ Frankie led you to a seat by the edge of the patio. ‘I stole it from the head table so it's the expensive shit.’

He tore the cork off, handing you the bottle. Neither of you had brought glasses, but you didn’t mind drinking from the same bottle. You’d kissed already - what was the point in formalities? 

‘I hate it to break it to you.’ You paused to wipe your mouth, recovering from the bitter taste. ‘But that’s champagne.’

‘Still alcohol, right?’ He took it from your hands, taking a swig. ‘And it’s free!’

‘You’re right.’ You chuckled. ‘So...I believe we have four years worth of catching up to do.’

‘D’you wanna go first?’ Frankie offered. ‘I heard you got a promotion.’

‘I did, yeah.’ You grinned. ‘It’s a thousand times more work but I get more control over what jobs I take, so that’s good.’

‘Anyone special in your life?’ He asked. 

‘Cut the shit, Frankie.’ You groaned. ‘I know that Santi updates you on every second of my life as it happens.’

‘You got me there. He mentioned a...Steven?’

‘A Simon.’ You corrected. ‘But Dickhead or Asshole works just as well.’

‘Damn, I’m sorry.’ Frankie gave your leg a light squeeze. ‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t deserve me and I stayed with him too long.’ You shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I had a reason to leave.’ 

‘Not having a reason to leave isn’t a reason to stay.’ He murmured. 

You didn’t know whether to bring up the D-Word. D-i-v-o-r-c-e. He hadn’t seemed that phase when your sibling had so eloquently and gently brought it up earlier, but you knew Frankie was good at putting on a front. It was why you’d clashed when you first met. 

‘Am I allowed to ask?’ You quietly said. 

‘It’s nothing bad.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean it is bad, terrible actually, but it was two years ago now. We only got married because she got pregnant and then left the minute our daughter was born.’

‘Leya.’ You didn’t mean to say the name out loud, but it made sense now. ‘Leya is your daughter.’

‘Yeah.’ Frankie warmly smiled. ‘I hate what happened but I’d do it all over again ten times if it meant having her in my life.’

He spent the next few minutes telling you about her. She was named Leya after a certain space princess, though Frankie had changed the spelling to make it less obvious (to which you had argued it was still quite obvious, but a cool name nonetheless). She was currently three years old, often got confused between Spanish and English words, and enjoyed Power Rangers. All in all, she sounded like a great kid. Above all, it was obvious how much she meant to Frankie. His whole face lit up when he spoke about her. Her mum was entirely out the picture, meaning he was doing the whole thing by himself. 

‘She sounds amazing.’ You beamed, peering down at the picture on his phone. ‘She looks so much like you.’

‘Thank God.’ Frankie murmured. ‘I dunno if it being a dad has made me more introspective, but I think about that night a lot.’

‘Me too.’ You replied. ‘Not the thing about being a dad. The other part.’

He laughed. ‘I got that.’

‘What do you think about?’

‘You, mostly.’ He admitted. ‘The fact I was an asshole. The fact you basically saved us all. The fact I never got to take you out for that drink.’

You took a swig of champagne, poking his arm. ‘We’re doing it now!’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I just...I know it was only one night but we might not have been around to tell the story if you hadn't been there.’

‘You were the one who landed the plane safely.’

‘Which wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t do all the stuff after.’ He reminded you. ‘The thing I think about most, though, is that kiss.’

You froze slightly, head slowly turning to look at him. He was peering down at you now, brown eyes intently gazing at you, not unlike they had the first time you’d been in this position. Now, you weren’t both beyond exhausted, or stuck in the middle of the jungle. You were safe and sound, right here with one another. 

‘It was a pretty good kiss.’ You edged slightly closer towards him. 

‘A very good kiss.’

‘Maybe we should do it-’

Frankie cut you off, meeting your demand before you could even finish it. He was just as you remembered; chapped-but-soft lips with a hint of mint. No tobacco this time. He gently placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you further up towards him. It was like you were both reliving the memory of that night in a dream - something you’d done many times. Your memory of it had faded over time but this? This was vivid and giddy and entirely consuming all at once. 

‘You know,’ Frankie pulled back for a moment, keeping his hand on the back of your neck and forehead pressed to yours. ‘I asked Santi about you a few years ago, pretty much the minute I realised I was ready to move on from...her.’ 

‘You did?’ You murmured. 

‘That’s when he said you’d been seeing Simon for a few weeks.’ He admitted. ‘I was gutted. Kept wishing I’d got there first.’

‘I wish you had got to me first.’ You lightly chuckled. ‘It would have saved me a lot of pain.’

‘If I were to ask out now, what would you say?’

‘Fuck yes, obviously.’

‘Good.’ He pressed a brief peck to your lips. ‘I admire the enthusiasm.’

That night - well, actually it had probably been the night in Colombia, depending on who you asked - marked the start of a fresh start for you both. What had initially started out as an attempt to seek solace in one another during a difficult time had led you to something more: something whole, something fulfilling. 

If someone had told you the first time you’d met Frankie Morales that the unfriendly pilot was going to become the best thing that ever happened to you, you probably would have slapped them. Or laughed, or cried, or all three. That night you met, you thought the emotions you were feeling were from the plane crash -- adrenaline and warmth and panic. 

As it would turn out, it was simply the feeling of knowing -- knowing that Frankie Morales was it.

[tearsofgrace]

the final rose: chapter 2

i wrote the next chapter only took me a million years

word count: 5.5k, tags: bachelorette, au, deancas fluff, cowboys

read on archive

Cas didn’t want to be here.

Well, that was a lie. 

He wanted to be here… but he wasn’t an obsessed bastard like the rest of the guys here. He wasn’t gonna cheat and fake it to get ahead. He hadn’t even submitted a damn audition tape. 

But he was here now, so he was gonna try. And Lisa seemed like a nice enough girl… maybe there was something there. And the guys, regardless of their questionable motives and outlooks on life, were miles beyond easy on the eyes. They were fucking hot. 

The first rose ceremony had been a mixture of nerves and hope. He wasn’t exactly sure if he was hopeful of getting sent home or getting to stay, but either way, he was here now. And there was no going back (he could leave… but honestly the free food and nice house made it worth sticking around for just a little longer). 

After they toasted, Lisa was whisked away and the producers briefed them on how the different rooms were assigned. Apparently, they weren’t even adult enough to decide their own sleeping arrangements, but he guessed they were probably doing it for the drama anyway. 

There were five or six guys in every room. Which was just fine by him. Until it wasn’t. 

A producer he didn’t know the name of led them up the stairs into the narrow hallway that led into several other bedrooms. He stood in front of one and called out five names. 

“Benny, Harry, Cas, Nick, and, uh,” he glanced down at a clipboard before pointing behind Cas, “Dean. You guys are in this one.” 

Cas felt his stomach drop but he kept his face set, there were still cameras on them, after all. Even at night. Even while they slept. Besides, he could deal with Nick, Benny, and even Dean for the short while it would take for them to get sent home. At least Harry wasn’t so bad. 

The producer moved on and the rest of the guys followed him while Dean and Benny shuffled into the room, followed by the other three. 

Cas walked to the center of the room where their suitcases lay waiting for them and grabbed his, barely sparing a glance at the rest of the guys before climbing onto the top bunk and falling back to stare at the ceiling. 

When he forced himself to sit back up, Benny and Harry had claimed the other bunk bed and Nick had sprawled dramatically on the twin in the corner. Dean was just standing in the middle of the room glancing around dumbly. 

He glared up at Benny who just shrugged and gestured at his claimed top bunk before jumping off it and rummaging through his suitcase. 

“Looks like you’re with me, Winchester,” Cas said, keeping his voice neutral but seething underneath. When Dean looked up at him with barely concealed horror he hid a smile. Time to make the straight boys uncomfortable. “As long as I’m on top,” he added as an afterthought. 

Dean just scoffed and grabbed his suitcases before shoving one under the bed and pulling a pair of gray sweats and a loose black t-shirt out. 

The other guys moved sluggishly after him, sitting up and rubbing their eyes before getting a change of clothes out. He half expected them to sleep in their tuxes… at least they weren’t that sloppy.  

There was only one bathroom on the whole second floor, which was maybe the stupidest part of the whole thing, so Benny, Nick, and Harry all got away to brush their teeth before all the other guys got there. 

Cas climbed down from his bed and grabbed his suitcase, resisting the urge to look up at Dean. It was just them in the room now. 

He was the exact kind of guy Cas had expected to find here. Arrogant, unfeeling, fuckboy vibes practically rolling off him. He was a dick. But Cas had plenty of experience with dicks. 

He changed quickly, and he could almost feel Dean’s eyes burning into him until he looked up and Dean jerked his head away. Cas smirked and climbed back onto the bed, exhaustion seeping in. 

Cas took deep breaths as the quiet sound of Dean’s clothes rustling filled the room. Then the bed shifted slightly as Dean settled in below him. With a sigh, he rolled over and pulled the blankets up closer around his neck. It was going to be a long couple of weeks. 

He woke up late, looking around blurrily as the sun filtered in through the small window in the corner. He could see Nick, Benny, and Harry all fast asleep in the beds across from him, but when he pulled himself down the ladder (why had he chosen a top bunk again?) Dean’s bed was neatly made and empty. 

Cas shrugged and grabbed some clothes from his suitcase before heading to the bathroom. Then he checked his watch, 8:07 am. Okay, so he hadn’t woken up that late. 

By the time he was heading down the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee was wafting up from the kitchen. His mouth watered and he rubbed his eyes as he wandered inside, ignoring the camera crew standing to the side and going over a clipboard.  

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said without looking up. “Chris is bringing by the first date card- God, that sounds stupid aloud,” Cas snorted in agreement, “Anyway, he’s bringing it by in an hour or so. I made some food. You hungry?” 

Cas squinted, looking at the man in front of him. This isn’t what he’d expected from Dean. Maybe from Mick or even Benny… They seemed like they had their lives together. But Dean? 

“What are you doing?” he finally asked. 

Dean frowned, looking back to the stove where he was stirring some scrambled eggs. “Making breakfast.” 

“Why are you up?” Cas asked, his head tilting further in confusion. 

He thought he saw a shadow flit briefly across Dean’s face but before he could be sure, it was gone. “Always get up early. It’s how my dad raised me. Now, c’mon. Get some food.” 

“Coffee first,” Cas said dryly, glancing back at the camera focused on them and pushing past Dean to the coffee pot. 

The other guys trickled down slowly, clapping Dean on the back and helping themselves to eggs, bacon, and fresh coffee. 

Dean took it all well, an easy smile on his face, and Cas felt a stab of jealousy. Pretty, a good cook, charismatic, must be a fun way to go through life. 

Some of the guys went out to the pool area, walking around the grounds, but most of them stayed inside, trading meaningless conversation. Before long, one of the producers who had been directing the cameras all morning got the guys from outside and gathered everyone in the living room. 

It’s all so fake, Cas thought bitterly, as the producers explained how there would be a knock on the door, Chris was coming to do the date card, blah blah blah. No one actually fell in love on this show. And if they did… then it was pure chance. 

He tried to school his face, mindful of the cameras, and looked up expectantly when Chris knocked. 

Gordon got up to get it and they watched him go, the forced conversation dying down. 

“Gentleman,” Chris said, rubbing his hands together as he walked into the room. “How’s it going? Liking the house?” 

Cas smiled and nodded with the rest of the guys, his eyes wandering around, staring pointlessly at the other contestants. 

“And what do we think of Lisa?” 

That got a bigger reaction, a murmur of conversation running through the room while a few guys got to say their piece. 

Good for them, they’ll make it into the episode, even if they don’t get chosen for the date. 

“Alright,” Chris said, after congratulating them all again, “Let’s talk about how this works. This week, there’ll be three dates. One group date, two one-on-one dates. If you get a rose on any of the dates, you’re safe. However, if you do not receive a rose on a one-on-one date, you will have to go home. Make the best of those. I have your first date card right here for the one-on-one.” 

Most of the guys had been zoning out through Chris’ whole explanation. They knew how it worked. They didn’t need to watch him say the same words he’d said over and over every year. But at the last sentence, they all leaned forward expectantly as he pulled out a white envelope.

“So,” Chris went on, twirling the envelope in his hands, “Have an awesome week. Enjoy your time with Lisa…” he glanced off at the producers for a thumbs up to keep going, “And I hope to see you all at the next rose ceremony.” 

He set the envelope on the table and they all stared, transfixed, as he left the room. 

Garth, who was sitting closest to it, glanced up at the producers, seeking direction, but got none. 

“Open it!” someone called. 

After a second, Nick shoved past Garth and grabbed the envelope with a sneer. “I’ll do it.” 

He pulled the card from the envelope slowly and Cas felt his hatred for this guy grow. He was looking around at everyone with a slight smirk touching the corners of his mouth, then he cleared his throat. 

“Benny,” he started, and everyone turned to look at the lucky winner. “Why don’t you and me have a reel good time?”

Nick snorted and handed the card to Benny, barely bothering to look at him. 

“Well, brother, you better go get ready,” Dean said, slapping him on the back. 

Benny stood up, looking dazed, and wandered up to his room. 

“Benny?” Michael said, voice dripping with scorn as soon as he left the room. “Like, seriously?”

“I know,” Nick agreed. 

Everyone else sat in silence, looking uncomfortably at the cameras. Eventually, one of the guys whose name had completely slipped Cas’ mind stood up and followed Benny upstairs. After that, everyone dispersed, looking for something to do in this beautiful mansion with no Wi-Fi, no TV, and no connections to their friends. 

Fun. 

Dean went to the producers and started making a list of different foods he wanted ordered. Garth went and sat by the pool, dipping his feet in without even rolling up his jeans. And Cas? He went upstairs to find his book, the one form of entertainment allowed in. 

He read all morning, already feeling like this was going to be the worst part. The waiting. The boredom. The constant cameras waiting for any sign of drama but mostly capturing the most mundane interactions that had ever happened on the planet. 

Benny came downstairs and everyone briefly looked up and wished him luck before he was on his way. 

And then they just waited, ate lunch--someone had ordered pizza. Ate dinner--still no sign of Benny. Of course not. These things took all day. 

Some of the guys decided to stay up and wait to see if Benny got a rose or not. If they had one more person to worry about or not. But Cas was beat. 

He moved towards the stairs and was stopped by a hand on his chest. 

“So?” 

He turned to see Anna staring at him, a clipboard in one hand and a headset dangling around her neck. 

“What?” he asked. 

“How’s it going?” a smile grew on her face. 

“Good,” he said simply.

“Come on, Castiel,” she said, looking around. “You’re doing me a big favor, at least tell me you like it.” 

“It’s going well. I’m glad I’m here,” he forced out, which seemed to satisfy her. 

“Good,” she said, moving out of the way. He started up the stairs but stopped when she called after him, “And Castiel?”

“What?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral. 

Her red hair glowed in the light of the mansion as her face softened. “Thanks for being here.” 

“Of course,” he said quietly, before turning and heading up the stairs. “Of course,” he muttered again once she was out of earshot. 

The next day came and Benny was still there, rose in hand, dazzling everyone with amazing stories of his night with Lisa. They’d gone to a real film studio and helped on set, then had a magical dinner in downtown LA. 

Cas tried to find the part of himself that was jealous, that wanted that time with Lisa, but it wasn’t there yet. It would be… he was sure. Just not yet. 

When the producers pulled him aside for an interview and asked him what getting on this groupdate would mean, he shrugged and said, “I don’t know.” 

When they pressed for more information he fought the urge to roll his eyes before saying, “Time with Lisa matters to everyone right now. But a group date isn’t a one-on-one.” 

Just then, the doorbell rang and they let him go meet the other guys in the living room, a few of them also trickling in from interviews. Garth went to get the card and stood at the front of the room, pulling everyone in with his magnetic yet ridiculous energy. Cas liked Garth. He was one of the only non-crazies in the house. 

“Alright, who’s ready?” he asked playfully, greeted by a loud cheer. Once things had quieted down, he pulled the card out and started reading. “Castiel,” Cas smiled, high-fiving the guys around him with enthusiasm he didn’t really feel. “Gabe,” this should be fun, “Asa, Cole, Garth,” he pointed to himself with a broad grin, “Aaron, Michael, Dean,” Cas zoned out after that, staring fixedly into the faces of the guys around him. 

All told, 14 guys were going on the date. 14 guys sharing time with Lisa. A recipe for the perfect night. 

Cas refocused his attention on Garth, who had finished the list of names and was now flipping the card over to read the date aloud. 

“Gentleman,” he started, and Cas wondered briefly if that was on the card or was Garth’s personal flair, “Let’s bare our souls. Love, Lisa.” 

Confusion settled over the room and everyone around him chattered excitedly about what it could mean. What secrets they would have to tell. Cas glanced up at Anna who had a smile touching the corners of her mouth. 

He’d seen enough seasons of this show to guess what it was. And he was not excited. 

They all got ready upstairs, crowding into each other’s space, barely enough room for the cameras to invade their privacy. He hadn’t seen guys like this care this much about their appearance since he was in college. And even then… well, it wasn’t exactly guys like this

It took three limos to get them all there. Which seemed like an extravagant waste of money but hey, it looked good on camera and that was what counted. 

No one really said anything on the ride. Made small talk, mostly. Not that there was much small talk left when they had no connection to the outside world. But there was something about the tiny interior of the limo, the cameras so close, that even at the producer’s leading questions the guys stayed quiet. 

When they finally stepped out into the bright sunshine, Cas let out a sigh of relief. 

Chuck was there waiting for them, and he gestured to a big building at the corner of the busy street they’d gotten off of and waved them forward, the whole time talking rapidly into the mic by his mouth. 

All the guys started making their way over and Cas followed, glancing up briefly at the sign on the building. Squinting against the sun, he could make out the word “Nightclub” in big block letters. 

Perfect. So it was what he thought. 

He looked back toward the building and saw Lisa standing in front of the big double doors, a broad grin fixed to her face. Her smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help a small smile back as all the guys gathered around. 

She exchanged a few words with a couple of them and then held her hands out to the building behind them. 

“You guys excited?”

“Yeah!” Garth shouted from the back, throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure. 

“Alright, alright,” Lisa laughed. “Anyone have a guess as to what we’re doing?” 

Yep. 

A hush fell over the group and Lisa laughed again. “Well, it’s gonna be super fun. And the best part is, it’s for charity.” 

The group cheered and Cas cast a side-eye at the rest of the group, seeing only Michael not clapping. Dick. 

“Anyway,” she said dramatically, her voice lowering as she turned toward the doors, “let’s find out what you got yourselves into.” 

The room they followed her into was dark and smokey and blue and pink strobe lights lit up the whole space. Loud music was playing through the speakers and Cas had to lean forward to hear Lisa as she led them into the room and directed them into a line. 

Then she turned toward a stage near the front and they all followed suit as the music stopped and the lights dimmed. 

A new song started and the lights started up again, this time in sync with the song. As they all watched, a line of men in cowboy hats (and heeled boots too, figures) walked out to the front of the stage, matching the steps to the beat. 

Yep, Cas thought bitterly. We’re gonna be baring it all. 

The strippers on stage started their dance as the contestants started coming to life, realizing what was happening. Cas watched the stage for a minute--cowboys weren’t really his thing--then turned curiously to see the rest of the group’s reactions. 

Most of them were looking incredulously at the stage, laughing nervously and cheering while their eyes opened to the fact that they were gonna be the ones up there soon enough. 

But something in the back caught Cas’ eye and he peered closer, letting his eyes adjust to the lights and the smoke. 

Dean was staring at the floor, color high in his cheeks, one hand raking through his hair as he shifted side-to-side. Cas glanced slowly from him up to the stage and a smirk slipped onto his face. Then Dean glanced up across the room, and for a split second, their eyes met. 

Cas cleared his throat and looked away, trying to make it seem like his eyes had been slipping over the crowd of guys. Really saved that one. 

Still. It was interesting. In an observationally interesting kind of way. 

Cas filed the interaction away for future reference and turned his attention back to the stage, where the stri- dancers had finished their show to a huge cheer from the guys and Lisa. 

Lisa walked out to the front of the group and gestured to a guy who’d come from some back room and was now standing next to her. His leather jacket was only done halfway up, showing his bare chest beneath. Cas nodded appreciatively as his eyes involuntarily moved up the guy’s body. This was more his style. 

“Boys,” Lisa started, “I’d like you to meet my friend, Scott. He’s gonna be helping us out today.” 

Scott nodded at her and turned to more fully face the guys. “Today, we’re going to be exposing you gentleman,” he paused briefly, glancing at the stage and smirking, “To the fine art of male exotic dancing.” Some of the braver guys in the group cheered again, but silence fell quickly. “Each of you will be performing on that stage later this afternoon. You’ll each have your own coach to help you, teach you the art.” 

Lisa stepped forward and smiled warmly at them. “If you guys are a little nervous, that’s okay. This is about trust. It’s about showing me why you’re here, and showing me you can have a great time. I don’t expect you guys to be great at it,” the guys all chuckled here and she joined in, “But I expect you to have fun with it.” 

“So,” Lisa’s smile widened and her eyes glinted, “Let’s get to some auditions!” 

The guys cheered as Chuck stepped forward, clipboard in hand. “Alright,” he shouted over the crowd. “Everyone up on the stage. Get loose, we wanna see some good dancing up there. You have three minutes to show Lisa what you got, and then we’ll decide which routine you’ll be doing.” 

The lights on the stage were bright, and Cas squinted up at them, resisting the urge to raise a hand. He could do this. He could do some stupid dance moves. He glanced over at Lisa, her head bent over a clipboard with Scott, a smile fixed to her face so natural she probably didn’t even know it was there. She was enjoying this. He could- he had to. 

The audition song went by excruciatingly slowly, everyone busting out their cringey dance moves and making as much eye contact as possible with Lisa. Cas felt the awkwardness seeping through him and his heart rate kicked up. This was just the goddamn beginning part. He could fucking do this. 

And then it stopped. Finally. 

Lisa and Scott made a few more notes on the clipboard they were holding, glancing up once or twice at the guys and whispering without pointing. 

Then Lisa walked forward with the clipboard in her hand. “Ready to find out how you’re stripping tonight?” she said playfully, winking at Michael who was standing in the front of the group. 

The guys all clapped, clearly feeling an energy that Cas didn’t. His world was still spinning, the lights and smoke crowding into his brain and leaving little room for thought. 

“There’ll be four different acts today,” Lisa went on. “Two groups of four--firemen and some policemen. One group of three, those guys will be robots. One duet for the cowboys. And,” she paused for effect, “One lucky gentleman will get to do a solo act all by himself as a bachelor!” 

Another round of cheering and Lisa shushed them all by holding the clipboard high. 

“Should I read the solo up to the groups of four, or the other way?” she asked seriously, looking over their heads at Chuck. 

Before he could reply, though, Michael shouted, “Tell us who the solo guy is!” 

This got a roar of approval from the guys so Lisa shrugged, glancing down at her clipboard as if to double check. 

“The solo act… drumroll, please,” the guys all started hitting their hands on their knees and Cas focused on his breathing, looking down at the floor, away from the lights, the noise… “Garth!” Lisa announced triumphantly. 

Everyone turned to look at him, slapping him on the back and grinning as he was ushered away but a coach. 

“The duet…” everyone started the drumroll again without prompting, “goes to Dean and Castiel!” 

Cas heard his name and looked up, trying to ignore the way everything was moving in slow motion around him. He nodded to the other guys mechanically and fixed a smile on his face, following the coach that took his arm and glancing back to see Dean walking behind him, his face flushed again. 

Once they were out of the room, Cas’ mind started to clear a little more, and he looked around, blinking. He could do this. He’d be fine. Just a duet… at least he hadn’t gotten the solo act. 

“Alright, my name’s Jay,” the coach said, slapping his hands together. He wasn’t bad looking, Cas mused softly, grounding himself more. “We have about an hour before you guys are supposed to get some sort of lunch, and then another two hours after that before call time. Which is plenty of time to learn about a two minute dance.” 

Cas gulped and glanced at Dean, who had lost his flustered look and was standing with a cocky grin on his face. 

“Let’s do this.” 

The guy took them through the steps, and Cas’ mind settled, falling into the routine. The first half wasn’t that bad. Simple stuff, more about owning the move than skill, according to Jay. 

But it was still fucking hard. Cas just wasn’t made to move like this. Not in front of a goddamn live audience. Even for charity. 

Dean, on the other hand, was a natural. He made all of it look easy, like he’d been doing it his whole life. And he did the whole thing with a swagger in his step that Cas knew for a fact had to be fake… but it sure didn’t look it. 

He kept turning to Cas and winking, giving him little pats on the back, hyping him up. And Cas didn’t want to admit it, but it did help… just a little bit. 

After an hour, both Dean and Cas were whisked away by crewmembers for a few interview questions. 

The questions were boring. How was he feeling? Some retroactive stuff like, what did he think when he walked in? How did Lisa look today? 

Cas answered mechanically, trying to seem excited and not terrified out of his mind. 

“And just one more,” Naomi said, tapping at her clipboard. “How’s working with Dean going?” 

“Good,” Cas said immediately, the word ripped from his mouth. “Dean’s good at this stuff.” 

Naomi just nodded distractedly and waved him away. “Right, right. Thanks, Castiel.” 

Cas stood and went into the main stage area where a buffet had been set up. He made a beeline for some honey and toast and then left the room, not bothering to chat it up and see how the other guys were doing. 

When he walked back into the rehearsal space, Dean was standing alone in the room, lifting up and examining the cowboy costumes layed out in the center. 

Cas cleared his throat and Dean started, whipping around to face him. “Hello, Dean.” The costume dropped to the floor. 

“Uh, hey, man.” 

Cas took a bite of his toast and regarded him thoughtfully. “Cowboys?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Dean shrugged and looked down at the outfit. “Wild West was fu-” he glanced at the cameraman behind Cas, “Friggin’ awesome, dude. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Western?” he added with a lopsided grin. 

“Just Brokeback Mountain,” Cas shot back. 

Dean gulped and dropped his gaze. “I’ve never- I don’t know what that is.” 

Before Cas could answer Ajay walked back in and pointed to the outfits laid out on the floor. 

“Get changed. Bathroom’s down the hall to the right,” he sipped from the iced coffee in his hand and cocked his hip. “Then the real fun starts.” 

In the bathroom, Cas slipped the thin material over his head, his chest starting to feel tight again. He made sure all the velcro was tight (he didn’t want it to slip before it was supposed to come off) and then walked out to the mirror where Dean stood waiting. 

“Looking good, Cas,” Dean said, one eyebrow quirked up as his eyes tracked over Cas- no, over Cas’ clothes. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Cas muttered, hoping it was quiet enough that the mic pack wouldn’t pick it up. There were no cameras in here, at least, thank God. 

Dean frowned. “What?” 

“I can’t- They’re making us strip, Dean,” he said pointedly, still keeping his voice a whisper. “In front of a bunch of strangers. In goddamn cowboy outfits. What the hell are we doing?” 

Dean chuckled a little then stepped forward and reached up, straightening the bolo tie around Cas’ neck. 

“We’re just having some fun. Remember why you’re here, man,” he added, before dropping a hand on Cas’ shoulder. He stayed there for a minute, their eyes meeting, and then he turned. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” he tossed over his shoulder, pushing open the door. 

“Let’s go,” Cas repeated, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t tell anymore if it was from nerves or-

He shook off the thought and followed Dean through the door. He was fine. They got this. 

The rest of the dance was even easier than the first half. Cas was starting to think he wasn’t going to make a total fool of himself when Jay turned off the music and spread his hands wide. 

“Right. So now, we just got to learn the stripping part of it.” 

Cas gulped, his eyes going wide. Jay pointed out the various releases on their clothing, tips for getting it off easily, and then left them to practice, his trained eyes watching them carefully. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Dean got the hang of it in like two seconds. The shirt came off and he whipped it in the air like a lasso before looking at Cas and blushing. Cas just stared back, eyes wide. 

Dean let the shirt fall to his side, his eyes still fixed on Cas, a curious expression on his face. And Cas, he couldn’t help but stare back.

Then, from behind them, Jay cleared his throat. 

Cas let his gaze slip slowly away from Dean and looked to Jay. His eyes were drifting back and forth between Dean and Cas, but after a second, his eyes landed permanently on Cas. “We need you to learn this too, Castiel. We only have about an hour until you guys need to be in hair and makeup.” 

“Makeup?” They both turned to look at Dean.

“Yeah,” Jay continued, “Just simple stuff, makes you look better on stage. Now, c’mon. Let’s finish up here.” 

Eventually, Cas got it. It wasn’t that difficult, the rip-away pants and shirt came right off. Dean’s eyes burned into him the whole time, and he pretended he didn’t notice. Pretended he didn’t see his eyes jerking away as soon as Cas looked up at him. 

He could do this. He was never going to make hundreds in tips but maybe it was enough for an audience of Bachelor superfans.

Hair and makeup didn’t take long, the producers pulled them away for another round of interviews, and then they were standing with the other guys backstage waiting for the audience to trickle in. 

A few of them were fidgeting nervously, but most of them were peaking past the wall, looking at where Lisa sat in the front row. 

They were going second. Right after Garth, who had pulled Naomi to the side and asked to go first. Still, Cas was glad they were getting it over with. Better to go now when his heart was still beating then in about twenty minutes when it had stopped completely. 

By the time Garth was waltzing out onto the stage, a grin that could be described nicely as goofy and more accurately as idiotic plastered to his face, Cas could barely think straight. 

A song Cas didn’t know started playing and Garth opened the buttons on his bachelor costume ever so slightly as he got into his routine. Next to him, Dean chuckled appreciatively and whispered, “Werewolves in London. Good choice.” 

Cas’ could only nod, the song became foggy and distant and the lights danced around him again. He felt his breathing pick up again and he looked down, blurry eyes making out his shaking hands. 

Shit. 

He didn’t know how much time passed. Didn’t notice himself swaying. Didn’t notice the camera guy getting closer to make sure he had a good shot. 

And then he was falling. 

The jerk of arms stopping his fall brought him back to the world, everything coming back into focus. Dean gripped his shoulders tightly and stood him up, pulling him away from the cameras, hiding at the back of the group. 

“Hey, man,” Dean said urgently, his hands tightening briefly before dropping entirely. “It’s okay.”

Cas gulped and silently cursed. Great. Panic attack on national TV and in front of De- Lisa--check. His Bachelorette Bucket List was going great. 

“I’m fine, Dean.” 

“No you’re not,” Dean shot back immediately. 

“It’s-” 

One of the P.A.'s Cas didn’t know tapped the back of his shoulder and he whirled around. 

“You guys are on in about thirty you need to-” 

“Give us a damn second,” Dean cut in. “Look at me.” 

Cas turned back to face him and took a deep breath. 

“You sure you’re good? We don’t have to do this.” 

Cas inhaled deeply again before letting it out. “Yes. I’m- I’ll be okay.” 

Dean met his eyes for what felt like another ten minutes before finally nodding, the concern slipping from his face. “Then let’s fucking do it.” 

He ignored the disapproving stare on the P.A.‘s face at his word-choice and led the way through the crowd and up the stairs. 

Cas followed him, eyes on Dean’s back, too shaken to look anywhere else. 

The music started up and they took the stage, the crowd going wild, Lisa in the front with a soft smile, her hands crossed over her legs as she leaned forward. 

He glanced at Dean just one more time, and then turned to face the crowd. 

Let’s fucking do this. 

[davidpastrsnack]

three times brady stayed quiet, one time he didn’t - brady tkachuk

a/n: i have such a soft spot for brady and this is the result. some really soft friends to lovers, but i also left the possibility for a smuttier part 2 if you guys are interested. i hope you enjoy (especially my fellow brady girls) and please let me know what you think!

word count: 5618

one 

After just barely getting through your final assignments of the last grueling week of school, it was finally time for the best part of the year: summer with the Tkachuks. Your dad grew up with Keith outside of Boston, the two maintaining a close relationship despite the distance that kept them apart for so long. For as long as you could remember, you and your siblings had spent the majority of the summer months with them, either on the lakes of Missouri or the oceans of Cape Cod. 

The busy hum of voices and speakers was all you heard, your tired body dragging through the airport, iced coffee in hand hoping it would give you even just another ounce of energy. You finally reached your gate, sitting down on the cool leather seat to wait for your boarding call. 

Your siblings were already in St. Louis, having finished school before you, and you were the last one to arrive before the commencing weekend of the summer. You knew you were in for a wild ride if the Snapchat stories of your older brother and Matthew getting up to no good were any indication.  

Just as you adjusted your headphones and felt your eyelids flutter shut, your phone buzzed, pulling you from your daze. 

Brady: I got held up here for another day, but should be there tomorrow

Brady: Don’t miss me too much 

You rolled your eyes at the screen, laughing as you saw his words and your brain automatically translated them into his voice. You considered all of the Tkachuks to be like family,  but Brady was different, he always had been. Since day one he was constantly looking out for you, even more so than Matthew and your brother. He always had an eye on you, that eye becoming more and more threatening to everyone else as he grew into his now 6’4”, 200lbs frame. 

Don’t worry, I’ll have Matthew to keep me company :)

You smiled as you typed out your response, throwing back exactly what he had dished out. You couldn’t deny that your relationship had become more flirtatious over the recent years, but you always assumed it was just the teasing nature of the Tkachuk household. If he was going to chirp you, you were going to chirp right back. But the banter had always flowed seamlessly, both of you knowing the other so well. You weren’t always clear on the motivation behind some of his comments, but it didn’t hurt to have a little fun with him. 

You finally boarded the plane, your flight not taking long before you were stepping out in the thick Missouri air. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, your eyes barely staying open as you searched for the black Audi you knew would be arriving any minutes. Just a few moments later you saw the luxury sedan turn the corner, a brown mop of curls sitting behind the wheel. 

“There she is,” Matthew yelled, pulling you in for a hug after stepping out of the front seat. 

“Hi Matthew,” you hummed, “Thanks for getting me.”

“Of course, Y/N, anything for my future sister-in-law,” he teased, that cocky smirk on full display while he grabbed your suitcase. 

You didn’t even acknowledge his comment, moving right along to get in the car and ask him how his season was. You were far from a stranger to his jokes, but you were not in the mood today and he seemed to pick up on it. So he gave it up for the ride, instead catching up on how you were doing otherwise since he had last seen you. All jokes aside, Matthew truly cared for you like family, especially considering he was dead serious about you eventually being his sister-in-law. 

After stopping for food on the way, you finally arrived at the house, Matthew pulling into the lit driveway as you took off your seatbelt. Chantal was waiting by the front door, immediately giving you a tight hug when you walked in. She was basically your second mother, always taking care of you as if you were one of her own. 

“Y/N! How are you, sweetie?” she exclaimed, urging you to follow her into the kitchen. 

“I’m good,” you responded while sitting down at the counter next to Matthew. 

“She’s exhausted mom,” Matthew deadpanned before you could continue. 

You rolled your eyes at his words, a smile growing on your lips as you quickly fell back into the comfort of this home. 

“I’m okay, really,” you assured Chantal. 

“Oh honey, come on,” she grabbed your backpack and gestured for you to follow her upstairs. “All of the guestrooms are full right now with Matthew’s friends but they’re leaving tonight. Just go ahead into Brady’s room, I’m sure he told you he’s still in Ottawa until tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he did.”

She led you down the hall, as if you didn’t know exactly where you were going, and opened the door to his room. The same hockey memorabilia was scattered across the walls and the closet was slightly open, the clothes he left here during the season poking out. 

“Just relax in here, sweetie. The sheets are clean and there are towels in the bathroom. I’ll check in with you in a little bit, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, pulling her in for another hug before she headed back downstairs.  

No matter how much time you had spent in this room, something about being in there without Brady felt wrong. But the exhaustion of the travel day and the past week didn’t let you think about it too much, instead telling you to go take a shower and change into fresh clothes. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but the second you laid across the bed you were down for the count. 

-----

When Brady opened his door after arriving home the next morning, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Chantal told him that you were in there, but there was no preparing himself for the sight in front of him. You were still fast asleep, but the covers were mostly thrown off your body. He smiled to himself as he remembered that you always get too hot while you sleep. The oversized t-shirt you were wearing was bunched at your waist, your tiny sleep shorts riding up your hips giving him the perfect view of your ass. Your head was nuzzled into his pillow, your hands resting in front of you as if you should be holding someone and your lips pouted as you slept. He had seen you asleep countless times before, but something about you being in his bed waiting for him like this was taking his breath away today. He thought about what it would be like if things were different. He could slide under the covers behind you, slip his rough hands around the soft skin of your waist, kiss your collarbone and neck as you giggled in his grasp, moving one of his hands lower and lower until-

“Fuck,” he mumbled, losing grip of his phone as he was distracted by his awe of you, the metal slipping out of his hand and falling against the hardwood floor. He scrambled to grab it without dropping his bags or waking you up. But it was too late, your sleeping frame stirred at the sudden noise, lifting your head to see what it was. 

“Brady?” you questioned, your voice laced with sleep and your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the morning light pouring through the windows. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I just- mom told me you were in here,” he spoke, afraid it looked like he had just been staring at you, which of course he had been. 

“Don’t be sorry Brades, it’s your room,” you laughed as you sat up, adjusting your shirt when you realized how exposed you were. 

He laughed too, trying to shake off whatever awkwardness had infected him this morning and not let his eyes trail down your frame. 

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come give me a hug?” you grinned. 

Brady shook his head smiling as he made his way towards you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling you in. His body relaxed as you wrapped yourself around him, your touch and scent overwhelming his senses. 

You could feel the tension leaving his shoulders as your hands traced the curls at the base of his neck, “You okay?” you whispered. 

He pulled back at your words, piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he paused, wondering if he should come clean about everything right now. But he decided it wasn’t worth freaking you out on day one of the summer, “I just missed you, that’s all.”

A soft smile crept on your lips, hearing him say that he missed you as much as you missed him warming your heart. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” you said as you grabbed his hand, a playful scoff leaving his mouth as he trailed behind you towards the stairs, the energy between the two of you starting to return to normal. 

two

After everyone had finally arrived and settled in, it was time for the first house party of the season. The mere thought of this moment had given you the motivation to finish your exams, so it went without saying that you could not be more excited. Keith and Chantal were out of town for the weekend, putting Matthew in charge of making sure everyone stayed safe. You were finishing getting ready in one of the guest rooms, which you had almost moved into for the summer after the one night in Brady’s. You went for a simple outfit, a white top with jeans and sneakers before heading downstairs to join the growing crowd. 

You were surrounded by faces as soon as you made your way down, some familiar and some not. Your eyes scanned the room for your friends, knowing your close friend Emily had already arrived. You finally found her standing in one of the corners and you turned to go meet them. 

“Long time no see,” you beamed when you arrived at their circle, the girls jumping to hug you as they saw you for the first time since last August. It was great to catch up with everyone, but you quickly realized that you forgot to get a drink. 

“Em, I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you spoke to which she nodded. 

“I’ll come with,” she urged, reaching for your hand as you both walked towards the kitchen. 

“So you look hot tonight,” she grinned, speaking in your ear so you could hear over the music. “I bet he finally makes his move later.”

“Who?” you challenged, but she didn’t need to say another word for you to know who she was talking about. 

“Y/N, please just save it,” Emily rolled her eyes, “Look, he’s already drooling over you,” she gestured towards where Brady was sitting around a table with Matthew and some of their old friends from hockey. She was right, he was looking right at you, waving when you made eye contact. You gave a small wave back before quickly turning your body away from him to face Emily. 

“He always watches me at parties,” you reasoned. 

“Yeah, because he’s in love with you,” she scoffed, pouring two drinks into red solo cups. 

“Because he’s a good guy, Emily,” you rebutted before taking a far too large sip of whatever she made. 

Meanwhile, across the room, Brady was facing the same kind of comments from his friends. As soon as he saw you cross the room with Emily he couldn’t peel his eyes away. You were practically glowing, your smile wide as the stress from the school year finally seemed to disappear from your mind. 

“Really Tkachuk?” he heard from next to him, his head snapping away from you to look at the voice. 

“What?” he questioned, his challenge laced with attitude. 

“Y/N? Still?” his friend Jack responded. 

Brady just shook his head in annoyance. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation tonight. 

“As long as the sky is blue, Brady will be falling at the feet of Y/N,” Matthew chimed in, a smirk gracing his lips as he hid behind his solo cup. 

Brady maintained his silence, hoping they would get bored and move on, but not so fast. 

“So you aren’t hitting it?”

He thought he was mad before, but nothing compared to the pure anger Brady felt at this comment. It was Nick, a kid he had never liked through all the years they played together in St. Louis. He was fuming, Matthew swore he could see smoke coming out of his ears as he waited for his brother's response, getting ready to step in if necessary. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nick?” Brady started, turning his body towards him and sitting up straight. “Am I hitting it? You’re talking about my childhood best friend, show some fucking respect.”

Nick looked stunned, his eyes wide as Brady glared at him. “Dude, I-,”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, moving to stand up so he towered over him. “You wanna know why no girl will ever come within ten feet of you? It’s because of shit like this, Nick. You’re a complete asshole and you don’t deserve a thing from any woman,” he scolded. 

By this point, Brady had drawn the attention of many, nearly all of the guests staring at the commotion, including you. 

Your face dropped as you saw him yelling, concern written all over your face as your brows furrowed in his direction. He finally seemed to calm down, his eyes looking defeated as they locked with yours. With one more look at Nick, he shook his head in disgust before walking towards the back of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. 

The room was nearly silent, everyone looking at each other to see if they knew what just happened. 

“Everything’s fine guys,” Matthew urged, the party resuming at his words. Your eyes met his and before you could even make it over to ask what that was he was gesturing towards the door for you to follow Brady. 

You nodded, discarding your drink on the counter and rushing to him. You slowly opened the backdoor, searching for his blond curls. You quickly found him alone on the patio, sitting on the outdoor couch with his head thrown back against the cushion, and his eyes closed. 

“Brady?” you whispered.

His eyes shot open at your voice, “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Even though he knew it was impossible, part of him was hoping you didn’t see that. 

You didn’t say anything but rather moved towards him, stepping over his legs so you could sit next to him. He stayed silent, just swinging his arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his frame. You sighed as your head rested against his chest, waiting for him to talk when he was ready. 

After almost ten minutes, Brady finally spoke, “Nick is an asshole,” he muttered. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words, lifting your head to look at him, but he was still staring straight ahead. He didn’t know if he could keep it together if his eyes met yours. 

“Brady,” you muttered, “What happened?”

“He just said something I didn’t like.”

“Come on, Brades,” you pleaded, hoping he would finally give in and tell you what happened. 

But instead, he shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he snapped, instantly regretting his reaction when he felt your body flinch at his tone. He sighed, letting out a breath it felt like he had been holding for hours, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just-”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. You had no idea what was going on with him, but regardless, it was clear that he needed you. You laid your head back down on his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your hair. 

three 

It had felt like forever since you had been on a proper date, the college lifestyle not always being conducive to it. But now here you were, getting ready to go out to dinner with the guy next door, Tommy. The two of you had been friendly for years, getting to know him more and more with each summer you spent with the Tkachuks. You definitely were surprised when he asked you out, but you didn’t see the harm in taking him up on his offer. 

And to be completely honest, part of you was getting frustrated at your situation with Brady. It was a cycle that started over each summer. You entered June denying that there was even a hint of anything more than friendship, but by July you were sucked right back under his spell, until August came and you were ripped apart from each other yet again. Clearly nothing was different about this year, so it was time you tried to move on and enjoy your summer in, well, other ways. 

You slipped into a dress, casual but still cute, and tied your white sneakers. You walked over to your window to see both Matthew and Brady’s cars sitting in the driveway. Great, you thought. This would be much more painless if they weren’t home, but of course, the world was not on your side. You did one last hair and makeup check before grabbing your bag and heading down the stairs, feigning total confidence as you grew closer to the boys. 

They were laying across the couch playing video games, both of their eyes darting straight to you as you tried to sneak out the front door. 

“It’s rude not to say goodbye,” you heard Matthew yell from behind you. 

“Fuck,” you silently mouthed, turning to move into the living room where they sat. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you guys there!” you lied through your teeth. 

Matthew’s face scrunched up at your excuse, knowing there was no possible way you didn’t see them. 

“Where are you going?” Brady asked, his voice much softer than his brothers, almost like he knew what he was about to hear. 

“Um, I’m going to dinner with Tommy,” you said, trailing off at the end as the awkwardness set in the room. 

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you saw the way Brady’s face fell at your words. The guilt suddenly hit you like a truck, but then again it wasn’t like he was doing anything to change the status of your relationship. 

“Tommy?” Matthew questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Yeah,” you stalled, “I don’t know, he asked me and I said yes.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, looking at his younger brother who was pretending to be enthralled in the game. 

“Alright well, I’ll see you guys later,” you said, standing as you waited for Brady’s response, but it never came. 

Matthew sensed the obvious tension, doing whatever he could to break it, “Have fun Y/N, but not too much,” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes, finally moving to open the door, not at all minding that it slammed behind you. 

As soon as you were out the door, Matthew pulled the controller out of Brady’s hand. He couldn’t watch this anymore. 

“What the fuck, Matt?” he shouted, his emotions high after watching you leave. 

“No, I should be asking you that,” he threw back. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Brady sighed, running his hands over his face before holding his heavy head in his palms. He didn’t know what he was doing. For so many years he was terrified of telling you how he felt. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t know if your friendship could ever recover and he was not taking that risk. But this year it was all too much, you were perfect for each other and everyone around you knew it too. How could he blame you for trying to find someone else when he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell you the truth?

“I don’t know, Matt,” he started, his words muffled by his hands, tears prickling the back of his eyes. 

Despite teasing him about you for so long, Matthew’s heart broke as he saw his brother in so much distress over this. 

“Just tell her. I promise you it will work out,” he encouraged, placing a comforting hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Anyone with eyes can tell that you two are made for each other. It’s gross, actually.”

Brady let out a laugh at Matthew’s chirp, finally picking his head up, “But now I have Tommy to worry about.”

Matthew scoffed, laughing as he spoke, “Yeah, because Y/N really seems like the type to throw away her entire relationship with you over one date with Tommy, of all people.”

-----

Your night was going well, but you just couldn’t shake the look on Brady’s face from your mind; he was hurt. 

Tommy was sweet, making you laugh throughout dinner, but you knew you had no intention of seeing him, like this, again. After leaving the restaurant, he suggested you got ice cream and walked around the city, to which you agreed. You felt bad for leading him on, but part of you was dreading arriving back to the house. You were sitting on a bench taking in the view of the city and talking about plans for the year when you felt him shift his body closer to yours. His intentions were clear, and your heart dropped at the realization that you were going to have to let him down much earlier than anticipated. 

Just as you were trying to find the right words to tell him, he placed his hand high on your thigh and he leaned in to kiss you. You immediately flinched, pulling your face far away from his.

“Tommy, I- I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

A dark chuckle came out of his mouth and you could feel the energy change, the air growing thick with tension. 

“Seriously?”

His much larger frame than yours suddenly became quite intimidating as he leaned over you, clearly not taking the rejection well. 

“I’m sorry,” you continued, “I just don’t think this is going to happen.”

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head at you, your body pushing back into the bench in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “This is about Tkachuk, isn’t it? I should have known you would only be interested in the fame and money,” he mumbled with another laugh. 

His words slapped you across the face, your eyes burning as you felt the tears try to push their way out. In all the years you had known him, you never had the slightest idea that Tommy had such a cruel side to him. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you rebutted, “Get away from me, Tommy.”

“No problem, darling,” he smiled, standing up and walking away, leaving you stranded on the street downtown. 

Your head fell into your hands, the cold evening breeze riding under your dress. Your mind instantly started listing all the reasons why this was your fault, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. After sitting there in defeat for a few moments, you finally pulled out your phone, dialing the only number that ever mattered. 

It seemed like hours later when you finally saw the black SUV pull up on the street in front of you. Before you could even stand up, Brady was running out of the car towards you. Your emotions got the best of you once he was by your side, your body collapsing into his as the tears fell. 

“What the hell did he do?” he questioned while rocking you back and forth in his arms. 

You couldn’t find the words to answer. 

“Y/N, you’re freezing,” he spoke as he felt your cool skin against his, “Come on,” he urged, grasping your hand to guide you to the car. 

Once you were inside the warm car, he reached into the back seat to find a sweatshirt, handing you the soft material. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, scared your voice would betray you as you slipped the fabric over your head, the scent of his cologne comforting you right away. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Brady hissed, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“No, you’re not Brady,” you warned, “I had a good night until I didn’t. We just had different ideas of how it was going to end,” you scoffed, a sarcastic laugh slipping through your lips. 

Brady shook his head, pausing to glance over at you while he was stopped at a light. You were resting against the cool glass, his sweatshirt pooling around your hips, the fabric of your dress peeking from beneath it. The light finally turned, your face now illuminated in green and he only had one thought. 

He would never treat you like that. 

plus one

Despite his conversation with Matthew, Brady still had yet to say anything to you. You assured him time after time that you were okay after Tommy, but he didn’t want his confession to seem reactionary. You deserved more than that. 

The plan tonight was for everyone to go out to one of the hotspots in town, but you weren’t feeling it. Everything that happened the night before had you even more consumed with your thoughts about Brady, and you needed a night of just nothing. The voices from downstairs carried while the boys were getting ready to leave, their laughter making you smile as you walked into the kitchen. They were so wound up all year long and it was refreshing to see them truly relaxing. 

You drew their attention right away as you entered the room, their brows furrowed in confusion as they took in the sweats you were wearing. 

“Y/N!” one of them howled, “We’re going soon, hurry up!”

You laughed as you turned to face him, the voice belonging to Jack. 

“I’m not going Jack,” you explained, opening the fridge to look for something to satisfy your late-night craving. 

“But you have to come, you’re so fun,” he whined. 

“I promise I won’t be that fun tonight. Just go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be here waiting to make sure you all get back in the house alive,” you jested. 

“I’ll stay,” you heard from behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. 

You finally rotated your body, meeting his gaze right away. He looked good. His black jeans hugged his thighs perfect, the matching black t-shirt fitting around his biceps like a glove. He towered over your, those bright blue eyes piercing into yours. He was close enough for you to take in his cologne, the scent immediately clouding your senses. 

“I’m fine, Brady,” you reasoned, shaking yourself out of your daze, “Seriously, go.”

He didn’t speak right away, instead he gave you a knowing look. You gave him the same look right back, challenging him to go against you. 

“Matt,” he called, not breaking eye contact, “I’m gonna stay.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness but you were just thankful that you had a reason to look away, praying that the heat you were feeling hadn’t made its way onto your cheeks. 

“Alright,” Matthew responded, not even bothering to question the two of you at this point. 

The boys flooded the front door, all yelling goodbye before they piled into the Ubers waiting outside. A heavy silence fell over the house, your body leaning against the kitchen counter as you waited for Brady to say something. 

“I’m just gonna change,” he spoke, gesturing to the staircase. “Put a movie on, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Just a few minutes later he returned, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were laying across the couch, the movie already playing as he sat down next to you. 

“Cold?” he asked, already knowing that you were by the way you wrapped your arms around your middle. 

“A little,” you mumbled, smiling as he covered the two of you in a blanket, squeezing your frame as he pulled it closer to his own. 

You stayed like that for a while, your body resting nearly completely on top of his, your leg swung over his lap and your head nuzzled into his chest. Any tension that was there before seemed to have disappeared, both of you returning to your normal states. 

But just seconds later, the screen flashed to a bedroom, the two main characters in the middle of what could be referred to only as a passionate, graphic sex scene. You immediately felt Brady tense beneath you, your cheeks flushing bright red at his response. It took everything within you not to react in any other way, but it felt like your entire body was on fire, begging to be touched. The sounds of the woman’s moans echoed off the walls, her face contorting in pleasure as the man continued. There was no denying that the image triggered a throbbing pressure between your legs, your brain fighting your body’s instinct to grind against his thigh. 

Brady’s stomach dropped when he processed what was happening, the woman undressing on the screen making his mind wander to doing the same thing with you. He wanted to touch you like that, he wanted to make you scream his name like that, make you fall apart like that because no one knew you as well as he did. But his imagination was far too vivid, and he internally cursed himself as he felt his pants become tighter and tighter. 

This has to be the longest sex scene in the history of all film, you thought to yourself as it continued, seemingly never-ending. Your hand was growing sore from its position under your head, so you gently shifted your body in hopes of getting more comfortable, but what you got was something else entirely. 

Your breath hitched when you felt it, unable to disguise your reaction. You were situated over his lap, your lower thigh brushing against his crotch and you could feel just how hard he had become beneath you. You froze, not knowing what to do or say, if anything at all. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, preparing to apologize, afraid he had made you so uncomfortable that he couldn’t recover. 

You knew he was beyond embarrassed, but something inside you had been ignited and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swung your hips over his, moving to straddle him while you grabbed his face, pulling it to yours. He tensed again in pure shock, but it didn’t take long for him to relax against you, his hands circling your waist as he pushed you back down into his lap. Your lips moved together in perfect synchrony, a small whimper slipping out from your mouth as he bit your bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into you at the sound, his hands sliding lower so he could grind you into his length, in desperate need of hearing you more. You had one hand tugging at the nape of his neck, the blond curls feeling like silk between your fingers, while the other slipped underneath his shirt, running your cool fingertips across his flexing abs. 

You were both so lost in the moment, ready to rip each other's clothes off at any second when Brady finally pulled back. 

“Wait,” he gasped, running his large hands across your thighs as he gathered his thoughts. 

Your breathing was labored, trying to catch your breath as you took in the sight below you. His lips were pink and swollen, his cheeks had a bright red tinge, and his blues eyes were staring at you in awe. 

“What?” you questioned, insecurity suddenly flooding your mind, your body separating from his as you leaned away. 

“No no no,” he cooed, urging you to come back close to him. You obliged, your eyes scanning his face in hopes of deciphering what he was thinking. 

“I just- if we’re going to do this,” he gestured between your bodies, “We have to do... this,” he whispered as he looked up at you, what he meant perfectly clear to you. “I want you, but I want all of you.” 

You smiled at his words, the anxiety washing off his face as he saw your reaction. 

“Brady, I have wanted this for longer than I can even remember,” you beamed, your hands cupping his cheeks, thumbing running over the soft skin. “I want all of you, too.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed. 

He pulled you back down to meet his lips, your teeth clashing as you both smiled into the kiss. 

“Well then,” he smirked, “If you don’t mind, I’m taking you upstairs.”

He wrapped his palms around your thighs, holding you as he stood up. You shrieked at the sudden movement, laughing as your legs circled his waist. He held you impossibly close to his body, terrified to let you go now that he had you.

“Please, Brady,” you whined against his skin, “Take me upstairs.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. 

That was all he needed to hear to rush up to his room, more than ready to show you exactly how much he had loved you since day one. 

part two here

[pitaparka]

between the devil and the deep blue sea

summary: you wake up to find your brother missing. you’re then met by two handsome boys in your motel room, who just so happen to have his key. they offer to help you find him.

pairings: jj maybank x reader / john b x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a missing brother, teenage boys, and a whole lot of eventual unresolved sexual tension

a/n: outer banks. that is all. happy quarantine yall. big love.

It was jarring to wake up in the motel all by yourself. You hadn’t even heard him leave. 

It took you too long to notice. The room was plunged in darkness, and you took your time waking up, getting out of bed, brushing your teeth. You had only turned on the light when you had decided to get dressed. Which is when you saw the empty bed next to you. It was hastily made, but even the fact that it was made threw you off. He had never been one to make his bed, even back home. Especially not when he first woke up. Did he plan on not coming back? His suitcase was zipped up on one of the chairs at a small desk off to the side. It made your stomach drop to think about. In your PJs, you checked the bathroom, the closet (for good measure), and under the bed (just in case). 

You called his name, but there was no answer. You had woken up multiple times through the night, afraid of the windows exploding, or the door caving in. There were no sand bags or boards for your room. But each time, you were lulled back asleep during a calm in the storm. The noise plus the springy mattress had not allowed for a restful sleep, and you were out of bed as soon as it was reasonable.

Your bare foot hit the damp pavement stepping out of your motel room. Petrichor filled your nostrils. It was a refreshing change from the musty dank mess you had spent the night in, but it wasn’t much more comforting. You were still alone, and you had no clue why. There were men and women all over the motel balcony, working on moving large branches and surveying the damage. You were suddenly grateful you weren’t in one of the rooms on the end, that had large cracks in the concrete. You looked both ways from your room, but you hadn’t recognized anyone. Power tools drowned out the sound of children playing in front of the motel front down below you. There were mattresses put up against the railing. You were expected to check out today, and you had agreed on leaving early, but you didn’t want to leave without your brother. The only option was to wait for him. You returned to the room.

You figured a shower was in order. So you didn’t hear the knock until you came out, towel around your shoulders, fully dressed this time. Thank God. Because you heard the key turn in the lock and light filled the room and all the doubt plunged from your chest because your brother was back—

But he wasn’t. You stared from the bathroom. Two boys. Neither of them your brother.

“Huh,” one says, and you really take a good look at the two of them. Just in case you have to describe them to the police. 

Tall. Wavy brown hair. Hat backwards. Bandanna around his neck. The other one blonde. Short hair. Tank top. Really nice arms, but considering they’re breaking into your motel, you look past it. 

“Check the bag, see if there’s a name on there somewhere.”

A name. Why do they want your name? If they’re going to steal things, they might as well just take it. They’re both teenage boys. About your age. Tall. Probably taller than you, but you can’t tell. The blonde one shoves the key deep into his cargo shorts. They go to close the door behind them.

It takes them a second to notice you. You must look like a deer in headlights.

“How did you get in here?” You ask. You saw the key. Where did they get the key? Only you and your brother have keys, how did they—

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, we didn’t know anyone—” One of them starts.

“Fuck,” the other one says.

“We found this key, we just wanted to—” One goes to explain, but you’re more scared than they are.

“What are you doing here?” You ask

“We just wanted to see where this came from,” says blondie, holding up the motel key. “We wanted to just—”

“Yeah, we’re sorry, we’ll be leaving now,”  The brunette goes to leave, and the blonde goes to follow. The one with the key in his hand doesn’t let go of it. You need to know where they got that key from.

“No! Wait,” you say, and they stop in their tracks.

“Where did you find that key?” You ask. They look between each other.

“On a boat,” One of them replies. The other stares at him.

“What boat?” you ask. You can feel your heart thumping in your wrist. You leave the doorway and sit on your brother’s bed. The door to the motel room is slightly ajar. They, theoretically, could run and never come back. But they haven’t left yet. 

“We… we found it. At the bottom of a marsh.” Brunette says. You let out a shaky breath. What the fuck does that mean? Whose boat did he have? How did he learn to drive a boat? Why would he get on a boat, in the middle of a fucking storm?

Your phone rings on the table next to them. You rush over to it, and the boys move back a little bit. There’s no caller ID. You answer.

“Hello?” you stare at the boys. They stare back at you. They look invested now.

“Hi! Are you busy?” The person asks. It sounds like a man, but not your brother.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?” you say. Today, nobody feels like giving you their names.

“Is your brother there?” 

“No, he’s not here… who is this?”

“Ah, okay, sorry! Have a nice—”

“Who is this?” you demand, but the line goes dead. 

“Fucking great,” you mutter, and the boys are still there.

“Uhh,” one of them starts, “We’re just gonna go.”

You’d had enough. You were fed up with the cryptic messages of today. Your brother disappearing out of nowhere, these boys, the phone call. 

“Can you… Do you know where the boat is, still?” you ask. You run your hands over your face, exasperated. This day was shaping up to be one of the worst of your life.

They’re both silent for a beat, before Blondie speaks up.

“Yeah. We could, I mean, we could show you where it is. Why?” 

Brunette glares at him.

“I can’t find my brother. He left this morning… that’s his motel key. He doesn’t have a boat. I just… I don’t know what’s going on today.” you explain. Brunette gives you a sympathetic look.

“He might be at the store or something,” he suggests, but Blondie has other ideas.

“I’m JJ,” he introduces. He fishes the key out of his pocket and holds it out to you. You decline it.

“No, you can hold on to it. I only need one,” you say, and you lean over to open the drawer next to your bed. Your key isn’t in there. But your brother’s phone is. And a motel sticky note with a number on it

“Oh shit,” you say, and Blondie—JJ, leans over to look in the drawer. He takes out the paper.

“Guess you could use this key then, huh?” he says with a smile. You return it sadly, and take the key from his hands. He looks over the paper.

“Thanks,” you mutter. 

“What’s this for?” he asks inquisitively. 

You take it from his hands. It’s six random numbers. It means nothing to you.

“I don’t know,” you say, handing it back. He hands it over to the other boy. You get up, and move over to the side of the room where your shoes are. Where your brother’s shoes aren’t. 

You give Brunette a once over after you put your shoes on. 

“Who are you?” you ask, and he introduces himself as John.

“But he’s really John B.,” JJ clarifies.

“Is there more than one John?” you ask.

“Probably. It’s a popular name,” John B. says, leading the two of you out of your motel room. You’d have to leave before tonight. You have nowhere else to go, so maybe because of the hurricane they’d let you stay. Checking out the boat wouldn't take too long, right?

“You guys aren’t… serial killers, right?” you question after you lock the door behind you. This is a terrible idea, going with these boys you don’t know at all. But there have been worse ideas. Like your brother leaving early in the morning to steal a boat and sink it in the ocean. You know he can swim, but you can vividly remember him tiring easily at the lake you’d spend the summer at with your family together. Your heart breaks a little bit at the memory.

“Oh come on, could a serial killer look this good?” JJ says, flaunting his body. He playfully runs his hands over his chest and face, and John B. laughs at him.

“Come on, dude, you’re freaking her out,” he says, and looks back at you while you guys walk down the stairs. 

“No, we’re not serial killers. At least not today,” he smirks. You figured you were gonna regret this, but it was too late to turn back now. Besides, what would you do in the motel room until your brother got back. What if he did come back, and you weren’t there? 

Your heart races.

“Wait,” and the sound of their feet on the gravel stops. 

“What if he comes back? And I’m not there? I should at least leave a note or something, right?” you worry. 

“I mean,” JJ starts, “If I were you, wait—have you texted him?” he says.

“Yeah, it was one of the first things I did. But he didn’t take his phone with him.” you say, picturing his phone sitting in the drawer, halfway charged, your missed calls and texts the only notifications. You didn’t know his password either, so it’s not like you could snoop.

“Well, then I think the boat will be your best bet. I could dive down there and see if there’s anything else in it,” John B. suggests. JJ nods in agreement. It’s nice how they decided to assist you, but you can’t help but feel like there’s an ulterior motive underneath it all. 

“Why… I mean, thank you, but—why are you helping me?” you say as you walk with the boys. They’re easy to talk to, and you feel like you guys could be friends very quickly.

“We got nothin’ better to do,” John B. says with a smile, and you think how nice it would be to be a part of something.

“Oh shit, it’s the cops,” JJ says, and you and John B. look up immediately. 

“What are they doin’ here…” John inquires. 

“Do you guys know them?” you ask, and JJ gives you a look.

“Know them? We’re practically besties.” 

The way he says it doesn’t make you feel better.

“Let’s go, before they see us.” John B. says, and you follow them to a little boat moored on the shore. 

“This is what we found in the room,” JJ says as he gets closer. There’s two other people there.

“A girl?” the boy says. The girl just smiles at you.

“Hi,” you say, and introduce yourself to them.

“I’m Kie, that’s Pope,” Kie says, gesturing to Pope. They look nice enough. It’s a nice little crew they have, and you find yourself wishing you could have something like this. Maybe, just maybe, if things worked out, you and your brother could make a life here. Do something here. Be someone here. But first, you’d have to find him.

“We walked in and she was in the room,” John B. says.

“We thought someone called the cops on you. Look,” Pope says, gesturing to where they had pulled up. They were talking among themselves near their patrol car. 

“Yeah, we know,” JJ says. He holds your hand as he helps you onto the boat. His hands are firm and cold, but you realize you like holding them. He smiles at you, then John B. puts his foot on the side of it.

“Uh, where’s my hand JJ?” John B. asks, and JJ responds with a shove, almost pushing John into the murky marsh water as he loses his footing, half on the boat, half on the shore. John B. gives him a hard shove back, and JJ loses his balance, catching himself with one hand, that comes back wet and muddy. You look on in amusement, but Pope tugs on your shirt, moving you back a little.

“You might wanna move back,” he says, and John B. jumps onto the boat, JJ in tow. They run around the center console for a second, JJ chasing John B. with a muddy hand, and Kie pats the spot next to her. The boat was small, so you took the opportunity to sit down. 

“What’s your story?” she says.

“Hmm?” you hum, tearing your eyes away from JJ slathering the back of John B.’s shirt with half dry mud, flaking onto the boat and sticking to his shirt. Pope narrowly avoids the splash zone, gripping the edge of the boat. 

“I can’t find my brother. The key you guys found? That was his. And he doesn’t have a boat, so I don’t really know what happend. I wanted to go check out where it was, y’know?”

You felt better around Pope and Kie. They were the more level headed of the four, you concluded. Which is probably why they were on the boat and not breaking into your motel room. You unheedingly ran a hand over the key in your pocket, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. You wish you had brought sandals you noted, as some of the water on the boat saturated the canvas of your shoes, right above where the rubber sole ended. 

“That sucks. I’m sorry,” Kie apologizes, before JJ hops off the boat again. At the front, he undoes whatever knot he used to tie the boat to whatever waterlogged tree he could find there. With a strong push, he dislodges the boat from the shore, and just makes it back onto the boat before John B. turns on the engine.

“All aboard that’s coming aboard?” John B. cries out. 

“Aye aye Captain,” says JJ, moving to the front of the boat.

John eases the boat out of the motel area, and back into the marsh. 

“You ever been on a boat before?” JJ asks, taking a seat at your feet. You politely decline the beer he offers you. He shrugs and places it back into the cooler on Kie’s side.

“Uh, not one like this. I’ve been on a boat before though,” you say.

“What, you been on boats nicer than this one?” Questions John B. from the helm.

“Not possible. This is the nicest boat there is.” Pope replies sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s my favorite part, the broken fishing rod holder or the helicopter engine on the back of this thing.” JJ says. You chuckle softly at his joke, but you find it endearing how John B. defends her. 

“Aw, don’t listen to them, Old Girl.” he says to the boat.

“You’re still my favorite,” John B. whispers to her, giving the wheel a little kiss.

Everyone laughs at him, and he grins, sitting a little taller in his seat. 

“Are you from around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” Pope says, beer in hand. They can’t be of age, but it’s an island, so who cares.

“No, I’m not. My brother and I were just passing through, but the storm hit. We were supposed to leave two days ago, but there were no ferries coming in or out.”

“On your way somewhere?” Kie asks.

“Nowhere specific,” you say, and JJ laughs.

“Mysterious, I like it,” he gets up from his spot at your feet and stretches upward. The tank he’s wearing already shows off a lot of skin, especially his sides, but when he stretches, he exposes his stomach a little bit. He’s got an athletic build. I guess that’s what happens when you live on an island.

“What about you guys?” you ask, suddenly a little claustrophobic with all the attention. 

“Have you guys always lived here?”

“Yeah. We all grew up here. Been here since we were born.” Pope says.

“Hopefully not for much longer,” clarifies Kie.

You quirk a brow at her. She continues.

“There’s nothing left for us here. Nobody cares about us. If we can get out, we can probably do something with our lives.”

“Yeah. If I want to do anything worth doing, I won’t be working under my dad when I do it.” Pope adds. Everyone else seems to agree.

Everyone except John B.

“I think that’s it,” he says, slowing the boat down considerably and looking over the console to get a look at it.

You and everyone else crowd the side of the boat. You don’t like how it leans forward a little, with the weight of everyone on the bow of it. In the cloudy water, there sits a big hunk of something. If he hadn’t had pointed it out, you probably would’ve paid no mind to it. It reminds you a little bit of how the Titanic sank.

John B. all of a sudden has his shirt off and his sandals, hat discarded somewhere off to the side with his bandanna in it. He jumps headfirst off the side of the boat, toward the object in the water. 

“I hate it when he does that,” Kie voices, “He’s gonna crack his head open one of these days,”

“Let him,” JJ says, watching the water intently with the rest of you. 

The seconds pass by slowly, and you begin to worry about John B.

“Should we go get him?” Pope asks, but John B. answers by popping up out of the water, sputtering and coughing, wiping his face with his hands.

“Anything?” you ask hopefully.

John B. stares at you. 

“Well, it’s still a boat.”

“Great, John, that’s totally gonna reassure her.” JJ criticizes.

“I couldn’t stay under long enough to see what was down there,” John B. says, making his way over to the side of the boat.

“So? What now?” you ask. All hope is lost. You can only hope that your brother is waiting for you back at the motel. 

John B. shakes his hair dry like a dog, and then slicks it all back. You can see he’s prepared to let the sun dry him off. He looks at you whimsically.

“Actually, I know where we could get some scuba gear.”

[hateswifi]

No More Second Chances: Chapter One

So I accidently delete this earlier and had a mini stress attack. So here it is back again. I hope you enjoy.

Master: Master List

No More Second Chances: Master List

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

Marinette loved her family, but they didn’t believe her. They thought she was everything that her classmates said she was. One day she came home to Alya and Lila talking to her parents, Lila was crying. 

“I can’t believe you, I can’t believe myself! How could I raise someone who can be so heartless,” Sabine said, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

“Mama I didn’t do it!” Marinette defended.

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother, go to your room. I- We can’t even look at you,” Tom said, pointing at the door leading to the kitchen and upstairs.

“Let me explain though!”

“No, now go,” Sabine said, letting herself be enveloped in her husband’s supportive hug.

“I-” Marinette tries.

“Go! Now!” Tom says, rubbing Sabine’s shoulder. Marinette plopped down on her bed in tears, she’s so happy that Hawkmoth had been defeated or she wouldn’t be able to fight off the akuma. She was now the guardian and was solely in charge of the miraculous. Adrien, her best friend, and partner had been taken into the care of his aunt after Gabriel was revealed as Hawkmoth, leaving Marinette alone to suffer with the class. With no one to stand with her, the class became unbearable.

“Marinette, we are going to sign you up for the exchange program,” Sabine said sternly.

“Why can’t you understand that I didn’t do it? If you don’t believe me, fine, I’ll leave. There’s nothing here for me. My parents don't care and believe me. My classmates wish I was dead, most of them telling me to kill myself, which I have thought about but you wouldn’t that because you gave me so much freedom that it was borderline neglect. But ya know what? it’s fine, might as well lose my home along with the people I used to care about, Tikki let’s go pack!” Marinette screamed, Tikki flying over to comfort the girl.

“It’s ok Mari, I’ll still be with you,” Tikki said, nuzzling her head.

“Marinette, what is that?” Tom asks.

“You mean who! This is Tikki, the only person that cares about me,” Marinette says.

“I’m her kwami, I give her the power to be Ladybug,” Tikki explains.

“I guess if you can’t trust your daughter then you can’t trust Ladybug, the hero of Paris,” Marinette said, pulling her suitcase out of the closet. “When do I leave?” She asks through gritted teeth.

“Well, we started planning this a while ago so Monday,” Sabine cries. “But honey you don’t have to go! Stay here!”

“What were you going to wait till Sunday to tell me? That’s great. Well, I guess I don’t want to be a bother anymore, so you can leave,” Marinette said, grabbing clothes from her draw.

“I’m sorry Honey, please forgive me. You don’t have to leave I trust you,” Sabine pleads.

“Nope, if you can’t trust me, how can you trust Ladybug,” Marinette asks, toiletries from her bathroom. “You don’t care about me, that's all I need to leave. I’ll be back when I graduate to get the rest of my stuff. Then you’ll never see me again, just as you wanted.”

“No, sweetie you can stay with us we love you, we want you around,” Tom said. 

“Night, I’m going out, not like you would care or notice,” Marinette said. “Tikki, Spots on.” She said, transforming. “Shut off the light as you leave.”

“Marinette we need to talk about this!” Sabine said, trying to follow her up to the balcony.

“Bye, Sabine, Tom,” Ladybug said, jumping off the balcony. She sat on a roof and cried. She pulled out her phone and tried to compose herself. “A- Adr- Adrien, can I come to visit you tomorrow, well stay at your place till Sunday night?” Ladybug sniffles.

“What happened, Buginette?”

“Sabine and Tom are sending me away because Lila’s lies got to them, I revealed myself as Ladybug to them during my emotional spiel and they want me to stay because of it, but I can’t stay knowing that they don’t trust me, without the knowledge of me being Ladybug,” Ladybug explained, full-on tears rolling down her face.

“Ok that’s a lot, I’ll ask my aunt, I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes, though,” Adrien said. “Breathe with me ok” After she’s calm, she hangs up and grabs her stuff. She leaves her par-- Sabine and Tom a note.

‘Sabine, Tom,

I’m leaving but I’ll be home Sunday night. I will not speak to you, I just need you there so I can leave. Then you’ll see me once after I graduate to get the rest of my stuff. If you seek me out, I will not speak to you then. You’ve destroyed any chance you had at being in my life. For now, this is farewell. My decision won’t change.

- Marinette Jiayang Fu’

As Marinette got off the train, Sabine and Tom read her letter. They cried, not only had they driven their only daughter out of their home, they drove Ladybug out of Paris. She was so detached from them, because of them, she changed her last name. They mourned over their daughter and their mistakes.

“Adrien! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Marinette runs up and hugs him. He decided to meet her at the train station with Gorilla, Adrien convinced his aunt to keep Gorilla as his driver. He was happy to have a familiar face in London. 

“How are you doing?”

“I feel free? I guess being away from Paris is like a weight being lifted off of me,” Marinette sighed as she put her duffel in the trunk.

“Finally what took you so long?” a grumpy voice said as she opened the door.

“Sorry Marinette, I forgot to mention, we have to drop Felix off for a meeting before we head back home, ok?” Adrien said, closing the door.

“Of course. How have you been Felix? I haven’t seen you since you came to visit Adrien,” Marinette smiled.

“Fine,” he responds, before opening a manilla envelope. 

“Are you taking over your father’s business?” Marinette asks.

“Why does it matter?”

“Well if you are and it makes you happy, I’m happy for you,” Marinette smiled.

“What?” Felix asks looking up from his folder.

“I’m happy for you?” Marinette says, confused.

“Marinette, Felix may be a bit confused because you guys didn’t end on the best note,” Adrien explained.

“That’s all in the past,” Marinette said.

“Oh… um, thank you,” Felix says, looking back down at the papers.

“Don’t mention it,” Marinette said, looking out the window. Gorilla growls, prompting Felix to get out of the car. After Felix enters the building, Gorilla drives off back to the house.

“Aunt, I don’t know if you met my friend Marinette, but she’s here and she’s very nice,” Adrien greets, opening the door.

“Sorry Madame, I just couldn’t stay with my parents, but I’ll be gone Sunday afternoon. My parents are sending me to the states,” Marinette explained.

“I’ll show you to our guest room, Honey,” Amelie said, walking up the stairs. “Brunch will be soon.”

“Ok Ma’am,” Marinette said, opening the door.

“Nope, no ma’am, call me aunt. Adrien talks so much about you,” She smiles. “Get settled in and join us downstairs.”

“Ok, Aunt I’ll see you soon then,” Marinette giggles, closing the door before plopping down on the bed with a sigh she states. “This has been such a long day.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Tikki laughs.

“I know but I’ve been up all night,” Marinette complained, flipping to lay face down on the bed.

“I bet they’ll have coffee downstairs,” Tikki said, that was all Marinette needed to be motivated to go downstairs. After a lovely brunch, which included coffee, Adrien and Marinette decided to go to the tourist sights. Later, Adrien would post selfies among other pictures of them together. When she went to bed that night, she passed out.

Marinette woke up early the next morning, being a baker’s daughter and all. The only person awake was Felix, who was sipping tea and looking over his tablet. “Good morning Felix,” Marinette said, brewing a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, how long are you staying for?” He responded, looking up from his tablet.

“I’m going to leave after dinner, I’m catching a train back to Paris, because apparently, I have an early flight,” Marinette sighs.

“Very well,” Felix said, standing. He walks over to the sink and places his teacup in it. “Well, if I don't see you before you leave, have a lovely flight.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Marinette says as he leaves the room. Sunday flew by fast and soon Marinette and Adrien stood back on the train station platform. They hug good-bye with promises to talk soon. As she sat down on the near-empty train she sighed thinking of the journey ahead. When she got close to her house, she transformed into Ladybug and climbed in through the balcony hatch. She showered and went to bed.

When she woke up the next morning, she was met with the smiling faces of Tom and Sabine. She got up, brushed them, grabbed her suitcase, and headed downstairs.

“Please Marinette, reconsider, we’ll stand with you,” Sabine pleads.

She shakes her head and exits, she sits in the car and Sabine and Tom reluctantly get in. “I’m sorry that it came to this,” Tom said, starting the car, his eyes were red and puffy. On the way to the airport, they tried to convince her to stay, even when she was waiting to board her plane, they were still there pleading with her to forgive them. As her flight was called, they didn't hold back their tears.

“May we please have one more hug before we don’t see you again?” they plead, grabbing her hand. Now, Marinette may not be happy, she may be downright pissed at them, but she was not cold. 

She nodded her head and they enveloped her in a big wet, tear-filled hug. She broke away, leaving them together to board the plane. She never looked back.

She realized as she sat down as she was looking through her carry on for her sketchbook, they had left something in there for her. It was information about her host family, an apology letter she couldn’t be bothered to read. She now knew who she was supposed to be looking for when she landed. She spent the rest of the trip sketching in her sketchbook, watching Friends, and sleeping. 

When the plane landed, she got off the plane and got her luggage. She entered the main area of the airport, where three people with a sign stood. She smiled and walked towards the group. “Hello, are you Marinette?”

-------------------------- I hope you enjoyed, ask me if you want to be on the tag list.

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 7

I know it took me a while to update, really, sorry, but it was because it was difficult to organize this chapter as I wanted. thank you so much for the comments, as always, is what motivates me to write I promise to take less this time

I hope you like it <3

AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

read bellow the cut :)

| G.W |

‘‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this anxious.’’ Ginny comments, watching Henry move his wand and stack her suitcase with the others who are concentrated by the fireplace. ‘’I’ve never gone this far. You know, when I was little, I climbed the trees and dreamed of the day that I could go as far as I wanted.’’ She smiles from ear to ear, anxiously walking around the room, her dark green dress still a little wrinkled. She didn't even want help getting ready, she tied her hair with magic and tied the bodice as she could.

‘’I’m glad you managed to convince them, Miss.’’ Henry smiles at her, wearing the black uniform and maintaining the most serious tone he can, even though he also looks excited. ‘’I’ve never gone this far, either.’’

‘’We still have hours, hours, until we go.’’ Ginny watched the auror, a smile on her lips taking over her freckled face. ‘’We could fly! If my father agreed to take me to the Dueling Ball, then I can fly!’’ She comments as if she were a ten year old child asking for the cookie that is in the jar on top of the cupboard.

‘‘Sorry, Miss, but the shed is still locked.’’ Henry smiled awkwardly, shrugging. ‘’But we can go to the greenhouse, we haven’t been there in a while.’’

‘‘I don’t want to go to the greenhouse.’’ Ginny sat down on the mustard-yellow armchair that her mother insisted on keeping in the living room, even though it didn't match the rest of the decor. ‘’Can we do something else? Can we go to the city?’’ She didn’t even like going to the city, but if it meant leaving home, she would be accepting. Ginny just wanted time to pass as quickly as possible. ‘’Can we do anything? I just don’t want to sit.’’

‘’Your mom asked you to train the dance.‘’

‘’Nooo,’’ She stood up, approaching Henry and looking him deep in the emerald green eyes, she could almost see the reflection of herself in his round glasses. ''Let's do something fun ... You can take me somewhere fun, can't you?'' Henry sighed, looking quickly at the bags on the floor, then at the clock where he pointed out that everyone - apart from Ginny - was out of the house, and finally for her.

‘’We have to go back before everyone else,’’ Her eyes widened as she jumped in place and smiled like she hasn't smiled in days, locked up inside the house. ''And you must promise me that you will obey me.'' Ginny laughed, throwing her arms around Henry as if it were the most natural thing, hugging him tightly and feeling his chest tighten with intimate contact. He had never even touched her shoulders.

‘‘I promise.’’ Ginny stood on tiptoe, fearless enough to kiss him on the cheek flushed with shame. ‘’I’m going to get my hat!’’ And then she leapt out of the room, running up the stairs like a child who had won the cookie, almost screaming with joy.

It has been a difficult few days, locked up at home and barely able to go to the garden itself, without being escorted by Henry or one of her brothers. Her name had returned to the tabloids, but now, they said it was all a lie on the part of her family, to create fame. They went so far as to accuse her of being psychotic mad, and that respectable ladies should stay away from her. Some women even removed her mother's name from their guest lists for afternoon tea.

Ginny still didn't know how the family was still invited to the Dueling Party, but something told her that Mrs. Potter understood what it was like to have her name in the tabloids with several lies made up about her.

She also didn't know why she was so excited. Something inside her made her think that the party could be good after all, living a week in a completely different house and with new places to explore. If no one danced with her, at least she would have new gardens and new libraries to visit.

Putting on her hat and gloves, not even bothering to look in the mirror to check her clothes or put on more perfume, just running down the stairs again, almost tripping over her dress, but being held tightly by Henry, who was waiting patiently for her.

‘’Calm, Miss.’’ He smiled, and something inside Ginny burned and trembled, like that night when she dreamed that he kissed her. ‘’If you get hurt, you won’t be able to travel or go out to the city. ’’

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m looking forward to it.’’ She running her hand over her dress and waiting for him to give the orders to know where they would go. ‘’Should I get my cape?’’

‘’Of course, we don’t want anyone to recognize you, and there are always eyes everywhere.’’ Ginny didn’t think his over-care was stupid, not after the attack and having spent days locked up Ginny would even put on a wig if that meant leaving the house and seeing daylight, smelling new smells and seeing people besides her family.

[...]

‘’This is incredible.’’ She smiled, almost standing up so she could see even more of that man sitting on the stage below, concentrating on playing the piano, while ten women wearing white and black clothes, danced perfectly and synchronously around. They stood on tiptoe, rolled, jumped, and never seemed to lose their balance, always in the rhythm of the music.

That was their first stop, at least that's what Henry said. They Apparated into the middle of Muggle London, which Ginny had seen less than twice in her life, and then rode in a carriage to that huge building from which very loud classical music came, and some people entered. There were several columns, a huge staircase - the biggest one Ginny had ever seen - and several pictures that didn't move, scattered all over the place.

No one looked at her, except for the man in the suit at the door, no one even seemed to pay attention to her, which was a divine sensation, to say the least.

Henry managed to get them up to the top floor, entering a mezzanine that had the walls covered in a wine red velvet that reminded her a lot of the color of the dress that Fleur wore at one of the balls she went to, and that the wizarding world spent weeks talking about every little detail of the piece and how the woman was one of the most beautiful in the night. There were chairs, too, and a parapet that kept them from falling over to where the dancers and the man playing the piano were.

‘’What’s the name of that?’’ She whispered, unable to take her eyes off how the skirts of those women were static and round, and how they tiptoed with frightening ease.

''Ballet. It's just a rehearsal, the presentation is always done at night... They are rehearsing Romeo and Juliet.'' Ginny almost couldn't resist the temptation to look away from the women when she felt his hand next to hers on the arms of the chair, but maybe not even Henry noticed how their fingers were almost touching, and how close they were now too, given the fact that they needed to whisper to each other.

His scent flooded Ginny inside, something that reminded her of fresh herbs and male soap. Her chest heated up, her hands tingling as if something was out of control inside her, which Ginny believed was her lack of human interaction in recent years, and it suddenly became difficult to breathe with Henry so close, so hot it seemed to burn her shoulder where they touched, and so overwhelming that it seemed that every key on the piano that was played on stage resonated inside her head as if all her demons decided to dance to the beat of a racing heart.

‘’It’s a beautiful piece, too bad it’s a tragic story.’’ He kept talking, the women down there dancing at an even faster pace, which made Ginny more euphoric. ‘’I don’t know if there’s a version in the wizarding world for this, but if you want,’’ And this time, Henry actually put his big palm over her hand, squeezing it lightly and smiling gently at Ginny. ‘’I can lend you. I have the book stored in my stuff. I brought it as a reminder of my mother.’’

The woman did not understand how they went from almost never touching, to that stage. She didn't understand what it was that shone in his green eyes, let alone her fast beats, disagreeing with the now calm music.

She had already read several books to know that if it were described in a love story, it would be the prelude that the romance between the couple was emerging; racing heart, inappropriate thoughts that invaded her mind - did Henry kiss as well as he kissed her in the dreams that tormented her the last few nights? - and a feeling of numbness that made her almost unable to think. If that were a love story, Ginny was smiling like an idiot for the book and would feel as flustered as the protagonist.

But Ginny Weasley had no chance of having her own love story. Not when her entire reputation was destroyed by people who tried to kill her, and men who never accepted that her, a madwoman without a hopeful future, says no. There were no love stories for a woman like her, who, unlike Fleur, Hermione, and all the other women who had a line of men waiting for her, was abandoned at the back of the room like a long-forgotten widow.

She allowed herself to feel just one more second of that feeling that burned in her stomach, before blinking and turning her eyes to the dancers, pulling her hand back to her own lap and trying not to pay attention to the pain that seemed to plague her chest now more still.

‘’Thank you, it would be amazing, I’m sure we don’t have it in our library.’’ She sighed, steadying her hands so that the magic that seemed to burn her fingertips would cease.

The rehearsal continued and she and Henry remained silent for the rest of the time, just admiring the dancers and the pianist, from time to time she would glance at him just to catch him looking at her fingers, covered by the white gloves, resting in her lap. It was kind of silly that they still tingled, but Ginny made a point of ignoring it, for her own good.

When everything went quiet a few minutes later and people on stage started to talk, they got up to leave, still in silence and avoiding contact as if the two had some contagious disease.

Before they could walk out into that hall full of photos and trophies, a tall, dark-haired man appeared in front of them, wearing all-black robes like the ones she saw some men wearing at dances, with a snake badge that Ginny did not recognize for being from no family. But Henry seemed to recognize it, mainly because he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him in a few seconds.

''Put your head down and don't say anything.'' Henry's voice sounded in her mind, and Ginny followed the orders without thinking twice, feeling the tingling again at her fingertips, but now, it wasn't something that seemed happiness. In fact, it was the same feeling she had felt before being attacked in the park.

Something burned inside her and an acidic taste took over her mouth, while her survival instinct made her magic swirl inside her chest and seem close to exploding. But never really getting to do it.

‘’Good afternoon, Sir.’’ Henry speaks, but his voice is louder and thicker than usual. Ginny just pretends to fix the wrinkles in her dress, avoiding as much as possible to look at the coat with the snake again, trying to remember where she had already seen one like that.

‘’Good afternoon,’’ the male voice responds, taking a step to the side and letting them pass, even though she feels that for the first time in the hour they’ve been out of the house, they were being watched. ''Beautiful wife.'' Only then does she notice the delicate ring on her left finger, and Ginny knows it's just an illusion, but can't help but be surprised for a few seconds, before returning to normal and continuing to keep her eyes down. 

''Thank you,'' but Henry doesn't move, and before she can understand what's going on, a cold shiver runs up and down her body, even causing her eyes to close to the weird sensation, before finally being pulled away by Henry.

‘’What was that?’’ Ginny whispers, feeling the air return to her lungs as soon as they step on the street in front of the theater, the afternoon light flooding them, as well as the sounds of a London that never seems to stop.

‘’I don’t know, but that man was a wizard.’’ Henry hasn’t released her yet, walking with her as fast as he can down the street, towards something Ginny has no idea what it is. ‘’And not a good one.’’

''What do you mean?'' They walk into an old library, a lady smiles at them as if she's never seen anything like it, and Henry directs them to one of the most hidden sections, then lets go of Ginny, and the shiver runs through her again, but this time, it's like she fell into a volcano. Was it that hot?

‘’He was a Death Eater.’’ Henry speaks in alarm, his hands running through his messy hair naturally, pulling on the strands as he leans on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes and sighing.

‘’Sorry.’’ Ginny asks, embarrassed and still a little moved by the latest events. A death eater! She had only known two in her life, and her father always said that she shouldn't want to be in the presence of another a third time. ‘’I put us at risk again.’’

‘’Don’t say that,’’ The man seems to allow himself to roll his eyes, taking his glasses off his face so he can wipe the lenses, as if he wants to buy time to process the ideas. ‘’You liked the rehearsal, and it’s a pity that you can’t see the whole performance, but at least we left the house.’’ He shrugged, then suggested. ‘’We have less than an hour yet, if you want to… do something.’’

''Aren't you going to demand that we go back to my house?'' Ginny's eyes flashed, the thought of being able to spend more time outside, lit her up like a hundred thousand lit wands towards her.

‘’Well, we’re already here, right? We can venture a little further. That wizard didn't recognize you, or me.’’

‘’How are you sure about this?’’ Henry shrugged.

‘’Something tells me that no. The ring was pretty convincing as well.’’ His cheeks burned, but his green eyes held steady on those of Ginny, who also felt her cheeks warm up. ‘‘Forgive me for that, Miss, but it was necessary.’’

‘’Oh, don’t worry,’’ Ginny meant he could have kissed her to convince the man, and even then, she wouldn’t care. ''You were fast.''

‘’A quality that I acquired working for you, Miss. You never know when I'm going to have to do a non-verbal spell and protect us,'' Henry whispered, moving a little closer to her and making her feel that whirlwind of emotion again, before turning away and resting his back on the bookshelf. ‘’But we’ll have to be careful if we stay here. We can go to more reserved places, that no wizard would visit. ’’

‘’How you know so much about the Muggle world, if I may ask?’’

‘’I worked for a few years with the Muggles, Miss.’’ He smiled simply, lifting his shoulders. ''Shall we go?'' Henry took her arm, as he sometimes did - in rare exceptions - and Ginny nodded, ignoring her belly being mistreated by the thousand bats that flapped their wings inside, and followed him for a walk through London Muggle, as if it were very natural for everyday life, to walk arm in arm with a handsome man as they strolled.

She knew that she needed to enjoy that moment with all her heart, as she probably wouldn't have many more, and for the next few hours, Ginny would pretend that she was not a ruined woman and without a very hopeful future.

| ? |

‘‘She isn’t a normal witch.’’ The man sitting at the end of the table looked up at the woman on his right, looking a little desperate at the blood dripping from the body hanging on the table. ‘’I’ve seen her up close, her magic… it’s scary.’’

‘’Scary? Is a 23 year old girl scary?’’ He rolled his eyes, looking again at the photo of the redhead in front of him, dressed in a long blue dress and looking bored, sitting on one of the chairs at the party. ''Who is he?''

‘’Her bodyguard. One of Robards best aurors, I heard.’’ Another man, this time on the left, replied, not even seeming to care when the blood of that filthy woman dripped near his hand.

''A scary witch and one of the best aurors... What a great pair '' His humorless laugh echoed through the dining room, his finger running over the photo of the redhead and then that of the man who was dressed in the black uniform, proudly displaying the coat of arms of the Ministry and Aurors. ‘’Kill them. Don't waste any more time and hit him first.'’ He smiled, looking at the woman’s lifeless body, hanging from ropes that went from the ceiling to a few meters above the table, her dying hand falling near the frightened woman’s plate. ‘’They’re going to the Dukes ’party,’ Looking down, he watched all his followers there, ready to do anything he assigned them. ‘’Kill them too.’’

| H.F |

‘’Why are we going to go in a carriage?’’ Ginny asked as they waited in the living room, she perched on the window like a child, watching the three magic carriages posing in the gardens, the thestrals waiting patiently to fly back into the sky.

‘’It’s safer, and it would be too tumultuous to use the Flu or Apparate, we would end up overloading the flow and maybe some people would end up stopping at different places. Furthermore, the exact location of the Dukes' country house is unknown for security reasons.’’ Henry replied, standing near the door so he could escort the family when he was called, ready for the most important job of his life.

Robards had warned him to escort the whole family as safely as possible, even sending two other Aurors to travel together in the other two carriages, to avoid any surprises, since the protection around the house had been removed so that the Thestral could enter and leave with ease.

He would obviously stay with Ginny, escorting her at all hours, especially now, still a little affected by the presence of the Death Eater they encountered.

If he were alone, Henry would probably have followed the man and tried to find out some new information about the possible attack that Voldemort was planning, but with Ginny at his side, all he had to do was move on, but always with his eyes open to any stranger to follow or look at them.

The bewitched ring had already disappeared from her finger, but Henry thanked himself for having remembered the spell in time, happy that he managed to protect her. Of course, they shouldn't have even gone to the theater in the first place, but Henry thought the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her face for all the hours they spent together had been worth it.

Ginny deserved a few hours of a 'normal' life, without a thousand eyes judging her and commenting on her every step.

‘’Do you know where it is? You told me the road is long.’’ She looked over her shoulder, her hair tightly tied in a complicated hairstyle that unfortunately left the red hair hidden in a bun. Ginny had also changed the dress, wore a much more elegant one and that Henry knew had cost a very high price, as well as some others that she would wear during the week ahead. The purple color looked great on her - like all the others, Henry suspected - and the white and silver details made her shine.

"I was allowed to know only as a security measure, in case we need to escape in a hurry, but I had to swear with my own life that I wouldn't tell anyone." He clasped his hands behind his body almost automatically, vaguely remembering the light pain he had felt. Ginny's brown eyes bulged, and she jumped off the couch, hurriedly walking over to him, holding out her gloved hand as if asking to see the mark.

‘’You… why?’’ Henry reached out, feeling warm and electrified when her delicate fingers touched his palm, his chest feeling like it wanted to explode with the gesture.

It was almost distressing that he felt so… sick when she touched him. It always seemed like something inside him was stirring, and Henry was ready to die.

‘’For your safety, of course.’’ He would do anything to guarantee that she would be okay, he thought.

‘’This is eternal.’’ Ginny looked at him, brown irises shining toward him like the caramel candies that the elves make every Thursday afternoon, and Henry always eats.

‘‘I will hardly have another opportunity to go to the Dukes’ house, Miss, so it won’t bother me, I promise.’’ Henry smiled, politely pulling his hand away from hers, his palm feeling like it was on fire. ‘’Now, let’s see… I’ll have to go talk to your father, but another Auror will be taking care of your safety until we need to go, okay?’’

‘’Why can I never go with you? You will talk about me.’’ With her chin up and her eyes defiantly staring at him, Ginny raised her eyebrows, looking a lot like when he met her.

‘‘I don’t think your dad approves, Miss.’’ He wanted to laugh, but he kept his face straight and his hands were behind him, as the label said. ‘’We’re just going to go over the protocol, it’s pretty boring and you won’t miss anything very fun, I promise.’’ As if in sync, he hears a knock on the door, and Thomas, the other Auror, bowed to Ginny. ‘‘Please forgive me for having to leave you,’’ Henry did the same, despite not remembering the last time he bowed to her - not being in public. ‘’But you will be in good hands.’’

‘’I don’t believe that much,’’ she whispered, making a face. ''But that's what I have.'' With that, Henry withdrew from the room, waving to Thomas, who kept an unfriendly scowl, and making his way to the office on the third floor of the house, where Arthur was waiting for him.

Henry wanted to think that when he got there, he wouldn't have to listen to the same conversation that Robards had passed on to him and the other Aurors, but it was almost possible that Arthur would repeat the speech about taking care of Ginny and, as much as the Duke and Duchess were good people, keep an eye out for any strangers. Deep down, Henry knew that it was only Arthur  father's concern that made the man say something Henry had already heard from the boss, but he couldn't even imagine what it must be like to know that his daughter is being threatened with death.

''Excuse me,'' He opened the door, entering after confirmation from Arthur, who was sitting in the usual chair, shuffling some papers, which Henry suspected was the letter the Duke had sent him a few days ago, reassuring the man about security. ‘’Did you call me, Sir?’’

''Of course, of course, sit down, my man.'' Unlike Mrs Weasley, Arthur was much more affectionate with Henry, respecting the limits of the hierarchy, of course, but still not taking some rules very seriously. His wife treated him very well, but Henry felt that the woman harbored a little dislike for him, but it may not be something directed at who he was, but the work he did in Ginny's life. Again, Henry would never be able to imagine the pain of needing his youngest daughter to be escorted, for fear that someone will kill her. ‘’I call you here to talk about something…’’

‘‘Say sir.’’ The man sighed, running a hand over his red hair that seemed to fall more each day.

‘’I found a good husband for my daughter.’’ Henry swallowed, happy that he managed to keep his face serious, but feeling out of breath in his lungs. ‘’He’ll be at the party, and I need you to watch him for me. If he’s respectable, he will marry her as soon as we get back.’’

Henry's tongue seemed to burn with unspoken words, like; will you marry your daughter to someone she doesn't even know? Your daughter is not an animal to be sold. Does she even know that? Will I have to leave her? But the man took a deep breath, clasped his hands on his knees, and continued to stare at the boss in front of him.

‘’I’ve already had him track down and everything is clean, but I need you to see the way he’s going to behave next to Ginny. My daughter does not deserve a man of arguable morals at her side.’’ Henry nodded, still a little dizzy. ‘’Furthermore, Mr Potter also knows him and has guaranteed that his family will more than approve the bond, as they need allies if they want to fight against You-Know-Who.’’

''I'm sure yes.’’

"And Ginny is an excellent witch, you know that yourself, the last two years she has perfected her art of dueling and the control of magic perfectly, so it will make a lot of difference for the family." Ginny hadn't improved her magic and control, to marry a weakling who needs a woman to defend himself. She needed someone to keep her safe enough, so she no longer had to worry about staying alive. The woman was barely 24 years old, and seemed to duel and defend herself as an Auror with over 30 years of service.

She definitely shouldn't marry someone who couldn't provide her with the least amount of security, so that her biggest concern would be that tomorrow the weather would be good enough to fly.

‘‘Sir, excuse the question, but does she know him?’’

‘’Oh, no, no, she’ll meet him at the ball.’’ Arthur assured him, pouring some Firewhiskey into two glasses that were already there on the table, but Henry denied it when the glass slid towards him.

‘’Thank you, sir, but I think I need to be sober for the trip.’’

‘’You’re a good man, Mr. Figg, an Auror of respect.’’ Arthur smiled at him, bringing the drink to his lips and then closing his eyes, as if he had headaches. ‘’This situation,’’ The cheeks almost automatically turn red with the liquid ingested. ‘’It has driven me almost crazy... Mr Potter organizing this party again called attention to the things that happened between our families.’’

‘’The kidnapping of the Potter boy?’’ Arthur nodded.

‘’But not only that, Mr Figg, actually, I wish it were just that… But the king has been pushing me too.’’

‘’The king?’’ If Henry had never even met the Dukes, the King was the last person he dreamed of seeing.

‘’Yes, Dumbledore has.. has been reminding me and James of something that connected our families for a long time.’’ Arthur drank some more, seeming to gain liquid courage to continue. ‘’A prophecy that made all this happen… ’’ Henry waited for him to continue, barely knowing what to say in the face of it. "It said that.. That two kids would be born 10 days, 10 hours and 10 minutes apart, and that they would be the only ones, with the wedding bond, to kill You-Know-Who." The man sighed, and Henry noticed that he was looking at the picture of Ginny on the wall, dressed in a light pink dress, and with a mouth dirty with blackberries. ‘’Are you aware of what it is like to look at your little girl, so small, and think that she is destined to kill one of the greatest wizards that ever existed? That if she doesn't do that... ’’

‘’If she doesn’t?’’ Henry insisted, thinking he was never under so much stress as he was at that time.

‘’She will die.’’ Then Arthur was silent, watching little Ginny laugh and hide her dirty hands behind her back, looking away, as if he wanted to get into the photo. ‘’Die like Harry Potter died.’’

‘‘I’m sorry, sir, but I thought the Dukes had said it was just a lie.’’

‘’No, James just doesn’t want to accept the idea, but Dumbledore believes that the boy will not have survived until now. The prophet who predicted this, was clear in saying that the farther the soul mates got, the weaker they would be, and the more likely they would end up being taken by You-Know-Who. After Harry disappeared, she was consulted by the king, who thought it pertinent to warn us now that she made it clear that if the boy had indeed survived, he would have died at the age of 20 or 21, and would not have passed that age. ’’

''Why that?''

‘’Because he would have spent a long time away from the protections that the soul mate and prophecy govern him. It was at that same age that Ginny was attacked. On her 21st birthday.’’ The man denied, closing his eyes again. ‘’Dumbledore insisted that I marry her once and for all, so that she is safe about marriage protections. It’s not much, but it’s much more than we can offer.’’

‘‘Do you believe in this prophecy?’’ Arthur laughed humorlessly, opening his blue eyes towards Henry.

‘’Harry Potter was never found, was he?’’

[...]

''Miss, I beg you to wait for me, then go inside the carriage,'' Henry asked, feeling an irritating headache, redoing the security spell around the carriage that Ginny would travel in, just as Thomas and Joe did with the other two.

The Weasleys were all talking behind the Aurors, eagerly waiting to board. Ginny was the happiest of all, barely stopping in place as she chatted excitedly with Ron about what she imagined they would do during the week they would be away from home, looking much happier than Henry remembered seeing her.

But at the same time that he was happy that she was happy, Henry remembered her conversation with Mr Weasley, and how desperate he looked. Ginny was getting married. Ginny could die.

Damn Harry Potter, who arrested her in that fate.

‘’All done, come on in, Miss.’’ Henry signaled to her, interrupting the conversation between the brothers, and smiling apologetically at them.

‘’Thank you, Mr Figg.’’ She jumped into the vehicle, followed by Ron, the twins, and lastly, Henry. As soon as he closed the door, and touched the magic coin that was the point of communication with Thomas and Joe, the carriage began to move and leave the floor. ''This is so exciting!'' Ginny opened the window curtains, and Henry even thought about asking her to close, as it was safer and prevented anyone from seeing her inside, but there were so many charms around them, that he thought it was okay to let her have fun for just a few minutes.

There were two benches, facing each other, the twins and Ron were in front of him and Ginny, and everyone seemed to marvel at the view of the property from above, much higher than they normally went with the brooms.

‘’How long to wait, Mr Figg?’’ Ron asked, still looking out the window, before he got tired and closed the curtain.

‘‘I think two or, at most, three hours. Thestrals are fast animals, they tend not to linger.’’

‘’Do you see them?’’ It was Fred who asked this time, and Henry nodded.

‘’He has seen death several times.’’ Ginny spoke before Henry was able, as if to say the obvious. ‘’Almost all Aurors have seen someone die, and if they haven’t, they’re not doing their job in the right field, because in the midst of wars, it’s impossible not to witness it.’’

‘’You shouldn’t know about that.’’ Ron pointed out.

‘’But I know, because I ask him. What else would we talk about? One hour this matter would come up, Mr Figg has been with me since I was 21.’’

‘’Miss Weasley doesn’t know any macabre details, only that I’ve seen death.’’ He lied, thinking that her brothers shouldn’t know that Henry once described how a man’s eyes were pulled out of his face. ‘’I would never give that kind of detail.’’

‘’Besides, Ron, I think I’m better able to hear about it than you are, because although I remember, when you first saw blood, you passed out.’’

Henry did not listen very much to the conversation between the siblings, looking at the small window beside him, and watching the clouds.

If Ginny married, he would be forced to walk away from her and never work with her again, even if her husband asked for a security guard, Henry would no longer be assigned to work. His contract, of course, said that when she signed her name on the wedding paper, he would automatically be disqualified as her personal security guard, and for some reason, it saddened him.

Henry had spent so much of his life alone, without many friends besides his mother and the boy who took piano lessons with her, without much vision for a profitable future. As soon as he was able to join the aurors, he imagined that he would prosper and be more social, but soon it proved much more difficult than expected. When you worked with arresting, killing and looking for murderers, there was not much time and energy left to make friends and date, and most guys didn't want to be friends with the same guy who helped him carry the body of a dead child in a confrontation.

It turned out that he just stayed at home, reading some book or the record of someone wanted, making theories and trying to think of a plan for the next day. Always trying to stay alive, even though it seemed to get more difficult with each passing day.

He had been so sorry for Robards when he told him about Ginny. The girl had lost control of her magic and now in addition to being threatened with death, she suffered public retaliation. Henry understood, at least in part, the pain she was suffering, as he felt the same thing when he saw someone dying in front of him for the first time - a colleague - and also lost control of the magic.

It had been traumatic, and Henry almost took his own life when memories of Cedric's icy white body fell in front of him. That had been the closest to a friend he’d had in years, and even though they had only known each other for a few months, the man tried to stop the Death Eater who raised his wand for Henry.

He understood what it was like not to be able to control even the wand in his hand, feeling his body tremble and his chest warm with magic, even looking like the spells would come out of his fingertips. He was desperate to say the least, and Henry sympathized with Ginny before he even met her.

A woman shouldn't feel as out of control as he had, a few weeks before he met her.

And now, he was going to see his best friend - and the woman who moved his poor heart - marry a guy who wouldn't even bring her so much security, and all Henry could do is nod, bow, and leave.

Henry sighed, closing the curtain and realizing that the argument between the brothers had stopped. ‘’Do you think the transfiguration festival will take place?’’ George asked - Henry knew how to differentiate them, no matter how difficult it was.

‘’Sure, it’s a tradition,’’ Ron said, running a hand through the red hair so characteristic of the family. ‘’I trained all week, I want to show that I’m good.’’

‘’Hmmm, is it because of Miss Granger?’’ Ginny winked at her brother in front of her, a smirk on her lips. ''Oh, Mr Weasley, you are so good at transfiguration spells, please marry me.'' She spoke of what should be an imitation of the Miss in question, the back of her hand on her forehead dramatically, and the other, stretched out towards Ron, who had red cheeks like curtains.

‘’She doesn't talk like that, you idiot.’’

''Hey. Women don't like men who treat their sister badly,’’ Fred warned him, punching Ron in the arm. ‘’And neither are the brothers!’’

‘’Women like polite men, who take her for a walk and treat her politely.’’ Ginny raised an eyebrow, arms crossed under her chest as if she could duel with her brother right there. Ron rolled his eyes.

‘’I treat her with respect... And what would you know about it? As far as I know, Mom didn't tell me about anyone taking you for walks.'' Ron looked sorry for saying that the next moment, but before he could apologize, or whatever, Ginny seemed to bristle like a wildcat.

''Because I'm a woman, you imbecile, and unlike the three of you, my head doesn't work just to think about when I'm going to sleep with someone.'' The three in front of her opened their eyes wide, and Henry almost laughed, but he thought they were too far from the ground to risk being thrown from the carriage. ''What's it? Now, after all, will you think I don't know about that? Oh, please, that's why the three of you are single, you very much doubt a woman's intelligence.’’

[...]

As soon as they landed on the floor, Henry felt the headache bothering him again, especially the scar on his forehead, the one that was always covered by his hair. After making sure it was safe, he got out of the carriage and undid the necessary protections for Ginny, Fred, George and Ron to get off too, and as much as he closed his fists around his wand, relaxed his shoulders, and took a deep breath, he still felt that tightness in his chest and burning on his forehead, which had bothered him since they started approaching the village where the house was.

It was much more than he ever thought he would have the honor of entering; it was a bigger mansion than any he had ever seen. There were more windows than he could count, large columns surrounded by rose vines, the stone-clad house was much better cared for than any he had ever known. The garden was very well maintained, with trees well over 100 years old, and flowers perfectly pruned. There were even statues, like the ones he had seen in a Marquis' house, but unlike that of the man, it was not just one, but several scattered around the garden in a way that looked beautiful and made sense. Some waved at them, and others just continued in their poses, were very well made and almost made him think that they looked like humans covered in plaster.

It was like going to an enchanted place, which brought an immense sense of peace and something even familiar, as if Henry had already been there before. What was silly, he knew.

As soon as they were ready, the Aurors followed the family to the front door, the path was long and well defined, separated from the rest of the garden, with bushes decorating the sides of the small road, and as far as he could see, the Dukes were waiting for them, wearing neutral and elegant clothes.

Henry hadn't been prepared to meet the Dukes in person, and he guessed it was nervousness that made him feel a strange urge to cry or run, as if something stopped him from breathing fully and made his knees look weak. He never imagined performing for such important people.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the first to greet, bowing first and then giving hugs and smiles, then the children, who just bowed one by one as the rule dictated and spoke a few words, and finally, the Aurors.

The Duke and Duchess looked at Henry as if they recognized him - perhaps Arthur had shown them his identification as Auror, where there was a photo. The Duchess had red hair that was darker and shorter than the Weasleys', and green eyes that looked like big, shiny emeralds in her thin and pale face. The Duke was almost the opposite of her, tall, with skin that was darker and tanned than his wife's, black hair and cropped but still a little messy, and dark eyes.

The clothes looked of great quality, much more than he could buy in his life. The thick fabrics covered them without any wrinkles, and the Potter Family crest, carved in gold, was proudly displayed.

Something inside Henry burned even harder, and as if his memory tried to remember where he had seen them - probably, in a newspaper in the past few weeks, which had several pictures of the two - his head hurt a lot. He wouldn't show weakness in front of them, so he just closed his eyes and bowed completely, swallowing the desire that had arisen.

‘’Mr, Mrs Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you.’’ Henry said as soon as his turn came, much closer to the two, who didn’t seem very comfortable with the situation. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the first party they had been throwing in years, and after what Henry had heard from Arthur, he couldn't imagine that the Dukes were happy knowing that their son was probably really dead. ‘’My name is Henry Figg.’’

[cherdream]

blue bird+renjun

synopsis: the budding friendship of renjun and y/n who seem to be polar opposites. 

genre: fluff + angst

warning: mention and acts of abuse (i’ll make a note before and after the scene!)

a/n: i hope everyone’s okay and signing petitions! i’ve also missed a bunch of the dream member’s birthdays because i haven’t been motivated to write anything and post. again please sign petitions, wear masks, and stay safe!

UPDATE: will not be getting a sequel. i apologize for the request.

“stop acting like you understand me,” you yell at the slender boy.

“that’s because you’re not letting me,” he yells back.

“renjun don’t you know how not to be nosy,” you ask, seething.

“it’s not being nosy it’s called i don’t want you to go through all this alone,” renjun replies.

“even if i told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“and why is that?”

“because god damn it, renjun you’re a golden child. a damn prince and i’m someone my family could care less about. an angel and a devil aren’t meant to understand each other,” you yell leaving the boy flabbergasted as you walk away.

***

“mother,” renjun calls out as he arrives home for winter break.

“oh my, i see my baby has grown a bit,” his mother comes to hug him.

“you’re just being nice. my height has remained the same for a whole year already,” he replies hugging her back.

“how’s y/n?” she asks causing renjun to pause for a moment.

“is it possible for parents to not love their own child?” he asks as he takes off his coat.

“i’m sure most parents love their child but there are some that don’t. why? did something happen?” she asks with a worried look.

“no nothing happened. i’ll go wash up,” he replies with a faint smile and takes his suitcase to his room.

***

“i don’t really see why you had the audacity to come back home,” says a woman.

“the academy told me i had to come home mother,” you reply as you stare down at your feet.

“we pay so much for your tuition and yet they can’t let you stay there for break?”

“it seems so.”

“just get out of my sight and stay in your room like you always do,” your so called mother says in annoyance as she lights a cigarette.

“yes mother,” you reply in a monotone voice as you quietly walk upstairs to your room.

***

“oh we’re having hot pot?” renjun asks as he comes downstairs for dinner.

“of course, it’s your favorite after all i haven’t seen you for awhile,” his mother says.

“when’s dad coming back from his business trip?” he asks as he sits down at the table.

“in three days,” she replies as she plates some food for him.

“thanks and you need to eat too,” renjun chuckles as he takes the plate.

“my son needs to gain some weight and grow up strong,” she replies with adoration.

***

“miss can i come in?” a maid asks as she knocks on your bedroom door.

“is it dinner?” you ask.

“yes.”

“then come in.”

the maid quietly walks in and places the food on a table then quickly walks out.

you roll off your bed and sit yourself down at the table.

“they always forget i’m allergic to peanuts,” you mutter as you notice the cake topped with them.

the loud chatter of the floor below could be heard as the rest of the family enjoy dinner together.

“brother must be home too,” you say to yourself as you pick at your food.

***

you ignored all the messages renjun would text you during winter break which led to renjun having a whole conversation with himself as he wonders why you became so enraged that day.

winter break finally came to an end leaving both you and renjun to start packing for the academy once again.

***

“the miss is leaving today madam,” the maid informs your mother.

“didn’t i tell you not to report useless things to me?” she asks in annoyance.

“i finally have a few days left of my break without her being home,” a young male says as he focuses on his game.

“we should have sent her out of the country for schooling,” she sighs.

“father said she’d might be in trouble if she went by herself.”

“your father has always been soft-hearted.”

you try your best to carry your suitcase without making any noise but it was no use.

“can’t you be more quiet!” your mother scolds.

“sorry,” you say as you heave your suitcase down the stairs, but another thud could be heard.

[act of abuse ahead]

as if already knowing what was to occur next, you shut your eyes tightly as a hand lands harshly on your cheek.

“such a nuisance,” your mother says, as she grabs your hair and pulls you down to the floor.

the beating continues as you try to protect your face, which angers your mother more as she grabs hold of them and throws your body towards the floor once more. opening your teary eyes you see a blurry vision of your brother’s shoes. your eyes meet a amused expression on your brother’s face as your hair gets pulled by your mother. you could no longer hear clearly what she was yelling about. eventually you stopped crying and became numb to the seemingly never ending smacks.

[scene ends]

***

“mother i’m leaving,” renjun says as he puts on his shoes.

“wait take some food with you,” his mother frantically says as she hands him a lunch box, “did you make sure you didn’t forget anything?”

“yes i made sure,” renjun chuckles and gives her hug before leaving for the train.

as he walks to the railroad center he checks his phone to see if you’ve replied only for him to see that you’ve left him on read.

renjun: hey i’ll be taking the 6AM train tomorrow in case you wanted to meet. i have seat 20.

[read]

***

the train arrives at your stop causing renjun to look outside the window for you, but to his dismay he doesn’t find you as the train starts to leave the station. until he hears someone plop down in the seat next to him.

“y/n!” he exclaims with a wide smile until he sees your bruises, “did she hit you again?’

“i just got assigned to this seat coincidentally,” you say, ignoring the question he asked.

“alright, i won’t pry it out of you, but i’m always available to talk,” he smiles, “also at least let me treat the bruises.”

you don’t say anything which prompts renjun to treat them anyway. his fingers gently apply the medicine, trying not to hurt you.

the train ride remained silent for awhile until renjun breaks it by saying, “i’m sorry. are you ignoring me.”

you simply reply with a hum.

“y/nnnnn,” he whines.

“shut up,” you reply, glaring out him which causes him to pout.

“it’s fine,” you nonchalantly say.

“really?”

“yes,” you frustratingly reply.

“good, did you bring lunch?” he asks taking out his lunch box.

“no.”

“alright we’re sharing then.”

“there’s only one chopstick.”

“i knew you wouldn’t bring lunch, so i, of course, brought an extra one,” he replies showing off another pair of utensils.

“why are you smiling like that, but thanks,” you tease.

“hey!” he exclaims causing you to laugh a little.

***

“tell me again why your friends with y/n,” a young male asks renjun as they walk to their next class.

“because she’s a nice person,” he says.

“well it seems like your her only friend,” the boy replies as he notices you alone in the school garden.

“yeah.”

“hey, you’re y/n right?” renjun’s friend asks as he walks up to you.

“yeah why?” you ask, confused as to why the boy’s talking to you.

“i’m chenle. renjun seems to think you’re nice,” chenle smiles.

“oh.”

“hey leave her alone. she’s shy,” renjun says as he tries to take chenle away.

“why? i wanna know why you think she’s nice,” he says, shoving renjun’s arm away.

“we’re going to be late. let’s just go,” he pleads.

you close the book you’re reading and walk away before saying, “i don’t think i’m nice. so there’s nothing for me to explain.”

***

“y/n?” renjun asks as he approaches a figure in the school’s greenhouse.

“hey,” you reply.

“it’s late,” he says as he seats himself down next to you.

“then why are you here?”

“something’s been bothering me lately.”

“what is it then.”

“what’s really going on in your family?” renjun finally asks as he makes eye contact with you.

“i wouldn’t consider them family,” you sigh, “you heard of my brother right?”

“yeah the genius of the l/n family.”

“well that’s the problem,” you gaze up at the stars.

“is it because you’re not like him?” he asks as he continues to look at you.

“bingo!” you smile.

“y/n...”

“look renjun i’m okay with it. i know i’m not good enough for them. i lost the desire to be loved.”

for some reason it hurt renjun to hear those words from you, “i think you deserve to be loved,” he says.

“hmm?”

“everyone deserves to be loved, but most of all you do. i know i have no say in your life because of how loving my parents are and i know i won’t understand what you have to go through but...” he looks away from your gaze as he stops his sentence.

“but what? don’t leave me hanging,” you jokingly say making the boy a little flustered.

“i’ll give you all the love your family couldn’t provide,” he finally says after a moment of silence.

“and why is that?” you sigh.

“because you don’t see yourself the way i see you. you’re a good person and you’re important to me.”

“if you phrase it like that i can’t really refute it, can i?” you smile.

“i won’t let you either way,” he says with hands at his waist as if he’s mad.

***

“please stop,” a blonde girl whimpers as she falls to the ground.

“i don’t want to. it’s funny seeing you scared,” a brunette says as she looks down at the girl.

“why are they so loud,” you mutter to yourself as you try to read your book.

the rest of the girls surround their victim as they burst into laughter.

“say belle, why do you think everyone hates you?” the brunette teases.

belle doesn’t respond.

“because you’re useless and a good for nothing,” the brunette answers herself while the rest of her friends laughing along.

“how annoying,” you say.

“what?” the brunette says as she glares at you.

“aren’t you the good for nothing?” you ask, closing your book with a sigh.

“who do you think you are?” she seethes.

“i’m just saying you’re a good for nothing because who spends time bullying other people. shouldn’t you get a hobby or something? boxing could help with your frustration, you know?” you say walking up to her.

“i remember! you’re the girl from the l/n family.”

“what about it?”

“then shouldn’t you be the good for nothing?” she mocks as her friends snicker as you pick the girl up, “don’t you feel bad for your parents? they have such an amazing son but ended up with another child that isn’t a genius like him. doesn’t that hurt your mother’s pride, having a useless daughter. isn’t that why they never visit you when you’re at school?”

“well aren’t you annoying,” you sigh with no change to your expressionless face.

“why you little-” she says as she slaps you across the face.

the loud sound of the impact startles the other students.

you could feel the pain stinging at your cheek and for some reason you lose it as you pull the girl by her hair. someone leaves to get the dean while the others try to stop the fight.

***

“isn’t that y/n?” chenle asks as he notices a familiar figure.

“huh?” renjun replies as he looks at where chenle’s facing and is left befuddled as to why you were with the dean and gen.

“i heard gen and y/n got into a fight,” a girl whispers to her friend as they walk past renjun.

***

as you exit the principal’s office with your parents you notice renjun waiting near the door. you give him a glance, silently telling him not to talk to you since your mother was here and was already mad enough. you give him a little smile telling him that you’re okay.

renjun has no choice, but to leave. he never met your parents until today. he could notice the cold presence your mother exudes as she sends him a glare.

***

the next day, news went around at the academy that you got suspended as you refused to apologize to gen. therefore, you packing your bags didn’t surprise renjun, however, you started to avoid him and he didn’t understand why. 

***

the day after, you finished packing everything from your dormitory before the rest of the students woke up, as you didn’t want to say goodbye to renjun.

***

renjun wakes up a little bit early today as he’s expecting a letter from his mother, so he hurries down to the school’s mail office. excitedly opening his mailbox, the first letter he sees has your name plastered on it. confused and worried at the same time, he hurriedly opens your letter.

dear renjun,

      you’ve been the first true friend i’ve made, though it took awhile for me to open up. i know that you wouldn’t understand my family situation, but despite that you chose to stay with me and try to lighten my mood. you became a sense of comfort.

renjun clenches the letter in his hand and runs out the place in hopes of being able to say a goodbye.

     you made me believe in things i didn’t believe in. you made me realize that someone is willing to stay with me. that someone would hold me in their arms when i cry. tell me everything will be okay, and that i’m worthy of my existence. unfortunately, it’s been decided by my parents that i’ll be studying aboard from now on. when i’ll be coming back is something i don’t know either.

he sees you loading your boxes into the car near the school entrance. sprinting to the entrance, you can be seen entering the car. renjun runs as fast as he can but before he gets there your car has already started driving away.

     but thank you for all the times you’ve checked up on me. for treating my wounds both the physical and emotional ones. simply being my friend made a big impact on my life. it made me look forward to going back to the academy. something about that stupid positivity of yours and your constant attempts to make a joke made my heart warm.

not giving up, renjun continues to chase after you. thunder could be heard as it signals future rainfall, but he refuses to give up chasing after his friend.

      i’m sorry for not being able to do the same and for not being able to repay you back for all those fond memories and pretty laughters. i only wish the best for you. for the first person i’ve learned to love and value close to my heart.

***

“do you want to stop the car?” your father says, signaling to the figure of renjun running in the rain after your car.

“no,” you reply, closing the window as another loud “stop” could be heard from your friend.

you couldn’t say a farewell to your friend, your heart just couldn’t handle it.

***

as renjun witnesses the car continuously getting smaller and smaller in the distance, his legs give out and his breathe struggles for air. coming to a stop, he breathes heavily as rain continues to pour down on him.

      i promise i’ll see you again in the future. i don’t break promises, renjun. it’s your choice to wait for me or to forget me, but for me i would always remember you as my first friend and my haven.

                                                                                        thank you,

                                                                                        your friend, y/n

[obligatorynasty]

The Weight of the Knife, Part 3: Beveled

Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~11k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Hangovers and Mentions of Puke, [Read all tags on AO3]

Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.

~*11*~

For the remainder of the day, Peter and Tony stayed in their room, save for the occasional bathroom break or a food delivery courtesy of Ned. They chose to relax together, underneath the covers, in each others’ arms, far away from everything and everyone, especially the aggravating presence of Quentin Beck. Peter wondered how he, once again, fell for a false earnesty and Tony lamented about being an absolute wreck over his father’s conniving behavior. It was almost therapeutic to realize that they were being toyed with; to realize that their fights had been exaggerated by outside forces; to finally see it had not all been their fault.

And after hours of emotional exhaustion, Tony had fallen asleep, snug against Peter’s stomach, arms wrapped around the younger’s torso. Peter, however, was wide awake. Despite his hangover, he was determined to fulfill his promise. He would protect Tony at all costs, even if it meant staying up into the night, fighting his headache, and sifting through the plethora of files in the Stark Industries database. 

With Jarvis, Peter was able to compile some very damning evidence about the company, including its dealings with terrorism and the various transgressions of its CEO. He even had security cam footage from the Stark mansion. Some clips were so heartbreaking that he couldn't bring himself to watch them. Video after video of his most precious person being abused by someone who should care for him the most.

Peter sighed and placed the phone against the nightstand, running a hand through Tony’s hair as he did. His boyfriend was so innocent when he slept, his eyelashes gently twitching in dreams and his soft snores vibrating against Peter’s abdomen. It was almost a shame to have to wake him, but he needed him for what came next. “Tones,” Peter whispered, softly tapping his fingertip against Tony’s cheek. “Wake up.”

Tony stirred awake, yawning as he spoke, “Is it time?”

“Yeah.”

Before Tony’s nap, they had discussed what to do about Quentin. Tony’s anger did not go away. It was just sharper, more focused, not as unhinged as before. He wanted payback in the form of violence and, if Peter was honest with himself, he did too. 

Quentin had played Peter for a fool. He tricked him into defending their fabricated friendship; tricked him into believing that friendship – that stupid, insignificant friendship – was somehow worth all of the arguments with Tony. Peter didn’t just want payback – no, he wanted some fucking retribution. He wanted Quentin Beck to regret what he had done. 

And he wanted it to hurt.

So Peter shared his plan, in whispered breaths during their lazy day, convinced by the devious smirk it brought to Tony’s face, that it would please them both. And it started there: right outside of Quentin’s door.

“Beck?” Peter spoke as he knocked, his free hand restlessly clutching the handle of his suitcase. “Are you awake?”

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door made Peter’s heart race but, surprisingly enough, especially to Peter, it wasn’t because of nerves. It was the adrenaline of knowing what was to come coursing through his veins. As the door swung open, he put on a terrified expression, attempting to sell his distress with wet eyes, a furrowed brow, and a frown. “Beck,” He let his voice tremble like he was on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Quentin asked, moving to place a hand against Peter’s face, thumbing at the tear that escaped his lower lash. “Why do you have your bag? What’s going on?”

Peter clenched his teeth and leaned into Quentin’s touch, trying to be as persuasive as possible, “We need to leave.”

“Why-?”

“Tony hit me,” Peter lied, feigning his sorrow with a sniffle and a stressful hand through his hair. “You were right about him. I should’ve listened, I should’ve-”

“Shh,” Quentin pulled Peter into a hug. “It’s okay. We can leave. I’ll pack my stuff.”

“Okay, but be quick,” Peter urged, shaking as he prevented himself from flinching out of Quentin’s grasp. “Tony doesn’t know I’m leaving.” An extra lie, coated in a frantic tone that made Quentin pack in a hurry, carelessly throwing his belongings into his suitcase before zipping it up and grabbing his keys from atop the dresser.

“Okay, come on,” Quentin whispered, following Peter into the hall as he closed the door behind him.

That was easier than Peter thought it would be. And with one task complete, Peter moved onto the next: the keys. As they reached the top of the staircase, Peter made a show of how heavy his bag was; struggling with two hands as he slowly took the first step, and then an even slower second, and a third at a snail’s pace…

“Here, let’s trade,” Quentin offered, handing Peter his keys in exchange for the suitcase.

And as he clutched the keys, watching Quentin carrying both bags down the stairs, Peter couldn’t stop himself from smirking. The next part of his plan began once they made it outside and walked down the driveway, far enough away from the house that what followed wouldn’t be heard. 

Quentin stopped at the curb, turning on his heel, “Hey, kid, unlock the car, would you?”

Peter shook his head, face expressionless as he stared into Quentin’s puzzled eyes. “No,” He said as he reached into his pocket, pulling out Tony’s butterfly knife and flipping it open.  “I can’t do that, Quentin,” He added as he held the knife forward.

Quentin gave a slow, confused laugh, “What’s going on, kid?”

“You know exactly what’s going on,” Peter glared at him, his anger starting to seep out. “How much is Mr. Stark paying you, hm? Enough to buy a fancy new car?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quentin immediately denied, a feeble attempt at maintaining his ruse.

Peter sighed, reaching into his pocket, switching the keys for his phone. “Quentin Beck, 18, works for Mysterio Incorporated as a professional grifter,” Peter snorted at the next line. “A prodigy in the art of the con. A bit of a stretch there, no?” He continued, “Official job assignment: sever all social, physical, and romantic connections between Peter Parker and Tony Stark.” He said, pointing the phone screen towards Quentin. “Still don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Quentin immediately dropped his gaze but then he laughed, slow and a bit dismayed, “I’ll give it to you, Parker, you’ve surprised me.” As he lifted his head, he seemed to relax in a different, less-friendly persona like a chameleon donning its natural color. “How’d you find out?”

“I heard you on the phone.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken that call,” Quentin shook his head, “You know, this was supposed to be an easy job,” He pointed out, “Break up a scared little kid and a violent asshole.” He kicked the suitcases onto their sides, “But, of course, you turn out to be just as crazy as he is,” He snapped, “You two are fucking perfect for each other!”

Peter was unfazed by Quentin’s anger – in fact, he was indifferent to it; there were no trembles or fear, not even a flinch. “That’s very nice of you,” He nodded and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you think, Tones?”

“Yeah,” Tony spoke as he stepped out of his car, cigarette and lighter in hand, nonchalantly having a smoke as he leaned against the car’s hood. “We are perfect for each other, baby.”

“Fuck this shit,” Quentin rolled his eyes, holding his hand out. “Give me the car keys, Parker.”

“Come and get them,” Peter taunted and tightened his grip on the knife.

Quentin scoffed, taking a step closer to Peter, “And what the fuck are you going to do with that?” He shook his head and took another step. “What? Stab me?” Another step. “A scared little bitch like you would never .” Another step; inches away from the knife. “Now give me the goddamn keys!” Quentin yelled, lunging towards Peter to snatch the keys, but his efforts were fruitless.

Peter slid his foot back, angling his body so that the pocket with the keys faced away from the impending grasp. He inhaled fast, his hand reactively flinching, swiping the blade of the knife against Quentin’s outstretched arm. And as he pulled away, he exhaled and glanced down at the knife, its beveled edge now streaked in a thin layer of blood. Then his gaze flickered to Tony, who was puffing gray into the latenight air, watching the interaction without an ounce of worry. The sight kept Peter calm as his focus moved back to Quentin, who had recoiled backward with a hiss, clutching his arm.

“You stupid little- you cut me!” Quentin snapped, fists balling in anger. “I’m not fucking playing with you, Parker!” He dashed forward, so caught up in his rage that he paid no attention to his biggest threat. Not bothering to notice the cigarette that had been flicked against the pavement; not even glancing up to see how close in proximity the looming threat was. It was a grave mistake.

Tony wound back his fist and clocked Quentin so hard in the jaw that he stumbled backward, tripping against a crack in the pavement. His hands shot down against the warm concrete, palms scratching on the abrasive surface as he broke his fall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and the cuts on his hands and arm, but there was no time to focus on the pain. He rolled over, quickly shifting to get back on feet, but the bad boy had descended, pinning him against the ground. He had no choice but to brace himself as a flurry of quick jabs were unleashed on his face, the force of which would no doubt break his nose if he did nothing. So he pushed, wrestling Tony onto his side, trying to flip them entirely and turn the tides of their fight, but Tony’s knee in his gut threw that plan into the water.

On impulse, Quentin clutched his stomach, letting out a pained grunt, watching as Tony stood and poised himself to kick the same place he had kneed. Acting quickly, Beck rolled, dodging the kick and finally managing to get back on his feet. Much like the fight against Loki, Quentin fought passively, fists squared to protect his face as he waited for Tony’s next move.

Tony laughed, brimming with a refined rage like he had dragged all that unhinged anger to an anvil and forged his next attacks. He was light on his feet, taking a boxer’s stance and closing in to throw a couple of jabs at Quentin’s openings. There were a few misses to the face, but a single hooked punch to the side had Quentin hunched over. 

And from there, it might as well have been decided. Tony grabbed Quentin in a headlock, letting loose a whirlwind of punches to his side, reveling in the way Quentin collapsed to his knees in pain. It was when Tony grabbed Quentin’s arm and positioned himself to break it that Peter finally interjected.

“No bones, Tony,” Peter stepped towards them, placing a hand against Tony’s shoulder. “We are still kicking him out. He has to drive.”

“Didn’t you say that piece of shit car was self-driving?”

“I did, but-”

“A rib?” Tony asked, his eyes dilated from the adrenaline of the fight as he held Quentin in place.

Peter glanced down at the bruised boy, whose eyes were teeming with a spark of defiance, and he found himself wanting to watch that spark get extinguished. “That’s fine.”

What followed was a kick to Quentin’s ribs so forceful that he screamed and started to give in, gasping and wincing in pain, “Fuck you, Parker!”

“Tony,” Peter whispered. “Another.”

And Quentin couldn��t get a word in before the pain of having a rib broken blended with the pain of having an already broken rib kicked. “Okay!” He grunted out, fear glazed across the tone of his voice. “Okay, fucking stop! Stop!”

“Tones,” Peter said it like a command and Tony followed it by holding Quentin still in a kneeling position. Then, Peter stepped in front of Quentin, squatting down to match gazes, “Are you ready to apologize?”

“What the fuck?” Quentin growled, weakly struggling against Tony’s hold. “No! I was hired!”

“Tony, I didn’t hear an apology, did you?” Peter asked as he hovered the butterfly knife in front of Quentin’s throat. “Maybe he needs a little more. How many ribs do you think you can break before a person passes out from all the pain?”

Quentin’s eyes went wide. Even with a knife outstretched and poised at his throat, the words that fell from Peter’s mouth were somehow sharper and more perilous. “Fine!” He broke, voice cracking under the force of Peter’s threat. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did, okay? I’m sorry.”

“See?” Peter smiled, hovering the knife upward and pressing it gently against Quentin’s face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

And Quentin let out a defeated laugh, “How are you even the same person I saved last week?”

“I’m not,” Peter stood, pulling the car keys from his pocket and throwing them into the sand. “Now fetch and don’t come back.”

~*12*~

“Did you get my email with the security cam footage?” Peter spoke into his phone, pacing back and forth in the sand. “Yeah, it’s really bad. Did you call the lawyer? Do you think he can do something with it?” He asked, stepping into the wet sand, enjoying the feeling of warm water splashing against his feet. “Thanks, May. Yes, now I’m having fun. Yeah, Tony too. Nope, there’s no alcohol. No, I’m not lying. My voice doesn’t have a tone. It doesn’t!” He laughed, turning on his heel, surprised to find Tony walking towards him with two drinks in hand. “Oh, May, I’ve got to go. Yeah, Tony’s here. Okay, okay, I’ll tell him. Bye!” Peter hung up the call, smiling as he took a cup from Tony. “May says hi and that she misses you.”

“Auntie called?” Tony’s eyebrow shot up. “Why didn’t you say so? I could’ve talked to her.”

“You can talk to her when we get back,” Peter waved it off, taking a quick sip of the fizzy mixed drink, face scrunching from the burn of vodka. “What did you put in this?” 

“Nothing much, just vodka and soda.” 

Peter groaned, looking at the drink like it could kill. “How much exactly?”

Tony smiled, looking Peter up and down, “Did you get sexier since the last time we spoke?”

“In the few minutes I was on the phone? Absolutely.” Peter playfully retorted, returning the smile. “But no avoiding my questions. How much vodka, Tones?”

“Not that much,” Tony laughed, taking a large swig of his drink. “Just don’t drink it too fast, okay?”

Peter gave a light huff, “What about you? Two more of those and your cup will be empty!”

Tony scoffed, “I’m not a lightweight like you.”

Without warning, a water balloon exploded against the back of Tony’s head, covering his back in cold water that had him cringing. Peter erupted into laughter, matching the energies of Rhodey, Pepper, Bruce, and Happy, who had pails of water balloons filled to the brim, fully prepared for war. “That’s what you get for talking shit,” Peter joked.

Tony grinned, turning towards his friends with a fire in his eyes. “Now I’ve got to show these fuckers who’s boss.” He took another large swig of his drink and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.”

Peter grabbed the cup, watching with a smile as Tony ran towards his friends. Seeing him like this was refreshing, like the stress of the previous week never reared its ugly head. In fact, just relaxing with friends without Quentin around had proven cathartic for them both. Peter spent his morning swimming with Ned and MJ while Tony helped Rhodey and Pepper make breakfast. The adrenaline of last night’s events had simmered and the vacation part of their vacation had truly set in.

Peter carried the two drinks up to the deck, where Bucky, Sam, and Steve were chatting and lounging on chairs. As he took a seat, he laughed at the excited way MJ and Ned prepped their buckets, readying themselves to join the water balloon fray. “You two don’t stand a chance out there in the trenches,” He joked.

“You just watch,” Ned exclaimed, dramatically thrusting a balloon into the air, “I will emerge victorious!”

MJ laughed, shaking her head as she kicked off her sandals. “You should join us, Pete. We can emerge victorious together.”

“No, thanks,” Peter smiled, placing the cups on the ground and slumping against the back of the chair. “But I wish you luck on your conquest.”

“To victory!” Ned yelled, running down to the beach with a water balloon poised to kill.

“Suit yourself, dude.” MJ grinned as she followed, beaming a water balloon from the top of the stairs to one of the unsuspecting teens below.

“Your friends are wild, Pete,” Sam said with a soft laugh. “But they’re alright.”

“Agreed, I really liked them,” Bucky nodded. “I liked Quentin too. Did he ever say why he had to leave?”

Peter shrugged, leaning to grab his cup and take a sip, feigning ignorance. “All he said was he had a family emergency.”

“Shame he had to go,” Steve said with a playful grin. “With all that flirting he was doing, you could’ve been just like me.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Like you?”

“He means having two smoking hot boyfriends,” Sam explained, gesturing to himself and Bucky.

“Oh!” Peter shook his head, a small pink tint flushing his cheeks. “It wasn’t like that with Quentin. We were just friends.”

“Were?” Bucky squinted.

“Are! Are.” Peter gave an awkward chuckle and sipped his drink. “Anyways, me and Tony are fine with just each other.”

“Yeah, you guys seemed fine the other night too,” Sam wiggled his brow. “Really fine.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Bucky gasped as he recalled what happened. “You two must have crazy sex.”

Those words made Peter’s small pink tint turn into a fully-fledged blush, “No, we actually haven’t…”

“You guys haven’t had sex?” Steve’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“We’ve like...fooled around, but yeah, no sex...um- actually, we were supposed to during this break,” Peter admitted, taking another sip of his drink to quell his embarrassment.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam questioned.

“Nothing really,” Peter shrugged, glancing down at the beach and all the balloon carnage scattered across the sand. “We just haven’t had the time yet.”

“I think you guys should fuck tonight,” Bucky pointedly suggested. “You’ve got to seduce him, Peter.”

Peter scoffed. “I don’t have a single seducing bone in my body.”

“Drunk Peter had my dumbass fooled then,” Sam spoke under his breath, causing Steve and Bucky to giggle.

Peter gave an awkward laugh, “Can we please forget about that?”

“You sucked on his finger like it was his dick,” Bucky interjected.

Peter groaned, dropping his face into his palm. “Excuse me, I’m going to wither away now and transcend this plane of existence. Don’t wait up for me.”

“See ya,” Sam quipped.

Steve laughed, sitting up from his lounged position, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Pete. There’s no judgment here.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, doll,” Bucky waved it off with a smile. “I’m sure, one of these days, you’ll catch us finger sucking too.”

“That’s comforting,” Peter rolled his eyes with a smile. “But okay, I’ll revert the withering process for now. Still, I don’t think I can channel drunk Peter on command.”

Sam nodded, reaching beside his chair to grab his own drink and holding it out, “Then, instead of channeling him, why don’t you just be him?”

“In moderation this time,” Bucky stressed, holding up his drink as well.

“To Peter getting fucked,” Steve offered a toast.

Peter giggled, holding his cup up to complete the cheers, “To getting fucked!”

~*13*~

Getting to this point was easy. After dinner and a bit more drinking, Ned roped everyone into a mini dance party with loud summer tunes and plenty of drinks. And something about the unintentional cardio mixed with the assortment of alcohol really made Peter’s haze set in. It was not nearly as strong as before – his motor functions were definitely intact – but that teeth-numbing warmth and indiscriminate confidence was alive and well. With all the sloppy dance moves, Peter could tell that everyone was somewhere on the drunk spectrum, even Tony, who was sporting tinted red cheeks and a very uncharacteristic smile as he moved to fall against the couch.

So, as he danced, Peter locked eyes with the seated bad boy, attempting to be seductive as he rocked his hips to the music as best he could. A little sway here, more hip in that move, add a bit of shoulder to that one; he was putting in a lot of effort. Yet, judging by the obvious snickering his boyfriend was doing, it probably wasn’t reading as sexy – he was trying his best, okay! He gave up, pouting as he rounded the couch, standing behind Tony and leaning in to whisper against his ear. “How dare you laugh at me. I was trying to seduce you.”

“Oh, really?” Tony snorted, leaning his head back against the couch. “I couldn’t tell.”

Peter blushed, lips still pursed in a pout, “Not even a little?”

Tony smiled, reaching his hand backward to pat his boyfriend’s hair. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“That’s good,” Peter whispered as he pressed a kiss against Tony’s cheek. “Did it turn you on?”

Tony inhaled sharp, “This definitely is.”

“Really?” Peter was surprised but moved to speckle more kisses against Tony’s cheek, jaw, and neck. “You like this?”

“Of course, baby,” Tony smirked, tilting his head to lock gazes with Peter. “I fucking love it when you touch me.”

A whine escaped Peter’s throat but, with his goal of seduction still at the forefront of his mind, he managed to contain his excitement. Instead, he leaned in, licking the space beneath Tony’s ear and whispering a fervid, “If you come to our room, I’ll touch you wherever you want.”

Tony didn’t need any more convincing.

They made their way to the bedroom, exchanging affectionate touches as they went. A hand on a hip, circling fingertips against exposed skin, the brush of an arm; innocent gestures that turned fiery the moment they stepped beyond the threshold and closed the door. Peter was the first to latch on, pulling Tony by the collar of his shirt into a messy kiss. One that tasted of vodka and smoke and, among the residual heat of dancing and arousal, it felt like a solar flare against his lips. He moaned into it, moving to jump up into his boyfriend’s arms. 

Even in his buzz, Tony didn’t miss a beat. He caught Peter by the waist, stepping to press him against the wall but diverting towards the bed when Peter whined, a very needy, the bed, Tones, the bed. It was confident and sensual and made Tony hard enough to feel through his jeans. 

And Peter could really feel it, especially against his own growing hardness as his boyfriend walked them across the room. He hummed pleasantly as he rutted against it, moving to trail kisses down Tony’s flushed neck, biting down against the skin of his collarbone and sucking to leave a deep red mark.

Tony inhaled through his teeth and groaned at the sensation, muscles flexing as he slowly lowered Peter against the duvet and climbed up between his legs. Then he smirked, staring down at his boyfriend with lust clouded eyes, “So we’re in a biting mood today, hm?” He whispered, leaning down to reciprocate the bite, leaving a mark of his own and enjoying the little whimper that spilled from Peter’s throat.

Peter busied his hands against his boyfriend’s toned stomach and in his wild hair, caressing toward the nape of his neck and around to the small of his back. He moaned, arousal flooding his core as Tony kissed his jaw and brought a hand up his shirt, rolling his fingertips against his nipple. It felt amazing, even more so when mixed with the heady feel of alcohol in his system. He found himself soaking in the closeness, lifting his hips for more and whining when the pleasure of the contact shot up his spine.

But then Tony’s hands snapped to Peter’s waist, pushing him back down against the mattress. “You’re so fucking eager,” He whispered, unable to hold back his pleased grin.

“It’s because I want you to fuck me,” Peter shot back, reaching to push Tony’s hand away and continue his impatient rutting.

“ What? ” Tony looked startled for a moment, then his expression turned pleased, then guilty, then worried. “Fuck, wait,” He shook his head, sitting back onto his knees and pushing down against Peter’s hips. “We can’t.”

Peter pouted, gently brushing his fingertips up Tony’s forearms. “Why not?”

Tony sighed, staring at Peter’s hands like they were torture devices. “You’re drunk, baby.”

“Am not,” Peter lied, putting on his best sober face. “I’m perfectly fine, so please,” He pleaded with a smile, moving to unbutton his shorts but pouting when Tony grabbed his hand to stop him. His expression fell into a frown, insecure feelings starting to surface in the form of anxious words, “Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“No, I do!” Tony said, his eyes glancing across Peter’s body. “I do. A lot ,” He took a deep breath, “You have no idea how much.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want you to be here when I fuck you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. “I am here, Tones.”

“Not completely,” Tony shook his head. “I want to see the face you make around my dick when you’re sober.”

“Me too,” Peter whispered.

Tony let out a light huff, raising his brow, “You too?” 

“No, I meant-” Peter blushed, averting his eyes, “That I want to w-watch you get off inside me.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s voice cracked a little, Peter’s words hitting him like a gunshot to his sanity. He inhaled slow, his gaze momentarily turning indulgent, “What else do you want, sweetheart?”

Peter bit his lip, nervously staring up at his boyfriend and whispering, “F-For you to- um... choke me.”

Tony grinned, leaning forward and ghosting his hand against Peter’s throat before pulling it away, “What else?”

“I want you to be r-rough,” Peter mumbled. “And um- use me... however you want because… I really just want to be good for you.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth, shifting to adjust himself through his jeans, “You are not making this easy for me, baby.”

Peter quietly gasped, “That too, that’s- I want you to call me baby,” He admitted, his face cast in a red hue. “Or baby boy. I like that more, but not all the time, just sometimes, like when we’re alone.”

“Okay, noted, I’ll be sure to tick these boxes later,” Tony smirked, “Anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Peter whispered, slumping back against the bed. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Tony shook his head, “I doubt that.”

“It is!” Peter closed his eyes, looking more embarrassed by the second. “It’s a bunch of stupid first time stuff that’s completely unnecessary because this shouldn’t be such a big deal.”

“Come on, just tell me,” Tony gently urged. “Let me decide if it’s unnecessary.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

Peter paused, covering his face with his hands and taking a deep breath. “I want-” He slid his hands away, revealing his expression, earnest and vulnerable, “I want you to say you love me.”

Tony froze, his jaw all but falling to the center of the earth as he was absolutely floored by Peter’s words. Moments of silence passed and then some more, where Tony just stared, gazed, focused solely on the boy in front of him, seemingly trying to find his words.

But Peter couldn’t take the silence, so he gave an awkward laugh, “N-Nevermind, you’re right, I’m drunk, ignore me, I’m being stupid, I’ll just go to sleep now.” He shifted away from Tony, moving to hide beneath the covers, fully prepared to wallow in his embarrassment.

But then Tony laid down beside him, pulling Peter’s covered body against his, whispering a comforting, “That’s not stupid, Peter.”

~*14*~

Spring break ended after a night of fireworks and group photos on the beach. The following morning brought a group effort clean-up, promises of summertime get-togethers, and friendly number exchanges. Packing the cars turned into hugs and ‘ see you later ’s, which turned into their long drive home. The trip ended perfectly but, as he watched the coast disappear behind them, Peter couldn’t help but feel sad. He already missed the early morning swims, the hilarious conversations around the fire pit, and the drunken late-night antics. As he settled into his sadness, a notification from Ned popped up on his phone: New Group Chat Invite from ‘Petey’s Mutuals .’ The name alone was enough to turn his mood around. He immediately dropped a laughing emoji in the chat, smiling at the flood of memes. 

“Who’s blowing up your phone? Auntie?” Tony asked, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

“No, Ned made a group chat with everyone,” Peter giggled and reached for Tony’s phone,  “You got an invite too. Want me to accept it?”

“Sure, if you want, but you know I’m going to mute it later,” Tony quipped.

Peter rolled his eyes with a smile, “I know but they’re asking for you. You’ve already been dubbed Petey’s number one mutual.”

“Petey?” Tony repeated with a smirk.

 Peter laughed, “I don’t make the rules.”

The remainder of the drive was peaceful, filled with an atmosphere of playful banter and spontaneous jam sessions as the greens of the coast turned into the greys of the city. As the fresh air became stagnant and the windows were closed to give rise to the open vents, their laughter became crisper, easier to hear without the rush of outside sounds. The sun was beginning to set as they turned onto Peter’s street. It was there that their pleasant moment faltered.

Standing in front of Peter’s building, like some kind of treacherous final boss, was Howard Stark, with his sleeves cuffed to his elbows, a sway in his posture, and a five o’clock shadow. He looked furious and a bit drunk, evident in the way his car sat askew against the curb.

“What the fuck?” Tony whispered under his breath as he parked his car across the street. “Why is he here?” He stressed, pulling the keys from the ignition and dropping his head against the steering wheel. 

“Don’t worry, we’re in public, he can’t do anything,” Peter assured as he pulled out his phone, quickly texting his aunt before placing his hand in Tony’s. “We don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”

“He’s been drinking, Peter,” Tony sighed, lifting his head to reveal his conflicted expression. “I don’t think being in public is going to stop him.”

Peter brought Tony’s hand up and pressed a kiss against his knuckles, “I’ll go and tell him to leave.” 

And before Tony could protest, Peter was outside the car, bravely crossing the street and calmly approaching the apartment building. The slam of the car door let him know Tony was behind him but he didn’t glance back. He kept his eyes trained forward, locked on target, “Why are you here?” He asked, knowing the answer but starting there anyway.

“You!” Howard yelled, reaching forward and yanking Peter by his collar. “What the fuck did you do you little shit?”

In a breath, Tony was there, warily stepping between them and trying to pull Peter out of Howard’s grasp. The defiance angered his father and, just like before, the moment was fast. A hand was raised and swinging, aimed for Tony’s face. The only difference was, this time, Peter didn’t freeze. He held out his arm, using it to shield his boyfriend from the abuse. This time Peter was not paralyzed by his fear, he was motivated by it. 

As his hand landed against Peter’s arm, Howard seethed, preparing for another swing, “You fucking-!”

“I see you got our email,” Peter interrupted, smirking despite the pain throbbing in his arm. 

“Email?” Tony repeated, distracted by the sight of his usually skittish boyfriend standing up to his abusive father. 

Howard’s eyes went wide, instinctively reaching to grab Peter again but stopping when the young boy spoke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Peter warned. “Don’t forget that we’re in public and it’ll only help our case.”

Howard hesitated, glancing down the sidewalks, reluctantly stepping backward as his eyes met pedestrians. “How did you do it?” He fumed, the scent of alcohol billowing off his breath, “How did you break my encryption?”

“I didn’t,” Peter snorted. “Tony did.”

Howard’s attention shifted, zeroing in on his son with a vehement rage. “You gave this slut access to our company!” He screamed, “Do you even know what you’ve done? Did I not teach you better than this?” And, without warning, he grabbed Tony by his upper arm, “You goddamn waste of space!”

Peter clenched his teeth and, much like his boyfriend had just done for him, he shoved himself between them, trying to pull Tony out of Howard’s grasp. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself!” He snapped, surprising even himself with the outburst but having no time to process it before Howard’s hand was locked in his hair, harshly yanking his head forward.

“What the fuck did you just say, you little shit?!” Howard seethed, ignoring the glances from passing bystanders and, when his son flinched to stop his violence, he yelled an imposing and threatening, “Don’t even think about it, Anthony!”

Peter hissed at the pull, hands shooting up, struggling to get free. The pain was sharp on his scalp and, for a moment, he wanted to call out to Tony. Call out to be protected; to be saved. He wanted to rely on him but, with one glance at his boyfriend’s terrified face, he knew he couldn’t.

Because Tony was relying on him this time.

“You’re dumber than you look,” Peter spoke, laughing through his pain. “We were going to keep this quiet in civil court but you seem so determined to let everyone know what an abusive asshole you are.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Howard retorted, yanking Peter up to face him. “You have no idea who you’re making an enemy of!”

“A businessman.”

“What?”

“I’m making an enemy of a businessman,” Peter repeated, his eyes stinging from the pain but his expression remaining calm. “I’m not an idiot. A rich person like you doesn’t fear court or prison or lawyer fees. You don’t care about anything but your bottom-line and keeping your company out of a scandal.” His brow furrowed then, “So I suggest you let me go before I circulate the files online and burn your precious company to the ground.” Peter’s words were venomous and deathly serious, enough to convince Howard Stark into releasing his hold. 

“Anthony, what have you done?” Howard turned his attention to his son, “Son, they want to take you away from me. They’re blackmailing me in court. Do you know that?”

“I-” Tony was frozen, struggling to find his words, his hands trembling, “I’m-”

Peter’s face softened as he stepped beside his boyfriend, gently interlocking his steady hand with Tony’s shaking one.

“Is that what you want? Stark Industries is yours too, son,” Howard continued. “You’ll inherit billions. They’re trying to take that away from you.” Then he pointed to Peter. “He’s trying to take that away from you. Don’t let this one mistake ruin your whole life.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Tony finally spoke, his voice cracking as tears started escaping down the contours of his face. “I don’t give a shit about the company. You do! That’s the only fucking thing you care about! So stop pretending you care about what I want! All you do is control my life and beat the shit out of me!”

“I do that out of love, Anth-! Tony , you’ll be the perfect successor. You’re brilliant, son. You got through my encryption. You’ll take Stark Industries so far if you would just listen to me ! All you need is a little tough love to keep you in line. Keep you away from mistakes like him. I’m guiding you-!”

“You’re abusing me!” Tony yelled, “Just like you abused mom and chased her away!”

“I did not abuse that bitch!” Howard shot back. “She left! That’s on her!” 

Tony inhaled through his teeth, averting his gaze to the ground, “I want them to take me away from you.” He looked up, his eyes red from all the tears but his voice clearer than ever. “Fuck you. Fuck the company. Fuck that fucking house and fuck your dirty money.” He gently squeezed Peter’s hand as he continued. “You always say I’m just like mom, so I’m leaving too.”

“No,” Howard’s voice was taut, “Listen to what you’re saying, son! You’re giving up everything, and for what?” He questioned, gesturing to Peter and the old apartment building. “This?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, stealing a glance at Peter, “For this.”

“You fucking useless child! You need me!” Howard screamed.

And he would have continued too, if it weren’t for the flashes of red and blue and the sirens rounding the street corner. 

“Boys!” It was Aunt May, hurrying down the apartment’s front steps with her hands outstretched, beckoning for Tony and Peter. “Boys, come on inside!”

~*15*~

“Why on earth do you have so many boxes of clothes?” Peter promptly complained as he opened yet another box filled to the brim and labeled Tony’s Closet . “And I swear it’s all the same black shirt!”

“It is not,” Tony laughed as he worked at unpacking a box into his nightstand. “I have at least one white shirt in there.”

“And this!” Peter stepped out of the closet, donning Tony’s cap and gown from graduation. “You looked so cool walking across the stage, getting your diploma—”

Tony snorted, “I got the folder for the diploma.”

“— and, after summer school, you’ll look so cool getting your diploma in the mail.” Peter corrected, smiling as he slid the gown off and started to fold it. “The school was not so lenient about Tony – puts the T in Truancy – Stark, huh?”

“Yeah, turns out you actually have to go to class to graduate, who would’ve thought?” Tony jested, pausing as he pulled a picture frame from his box. For a moment, he stared at the photo, distress clouding his previously content expression, but then he dropped it back into the box, sighing before picking it up again.

“What’s that?” Peter asked as he walked over, kneeling down to get a better look.

Tony shrugged, “A picture of that painting from my old man’s place.”

“You have a copy of it.” It was more of a statement than a question. Still, Peter was stunned that Tony would hold onto it after everything that’s happened.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed again as he placed it back into the box. “But I don’t even know why. I just...”

“You just?”

 “I just feel weird being in a place by myself, I guess, and it’s the only thing I have with the three of us together,” Tony sighed, shaking his head. “It’s fucking stupid, I know. He’s in it so I don’t want to put it up but she’s in it so I don’t want to get rid of it.”

Peter smiled, leaning to press a kiss against Tony’s forehead. “Then, while you decide what to do, I’ll get some pictures of us that you can put up.”

Tony smirked, deciding to leave the picture in the box for now. “Can I have that one in your living room of you at the science fair? You know, the one with your hair sticking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “That one of us during spring break is still in the group chat though.” He mentioned, returning to finish unpacking the closet. “I’ll print it out and frame it for you, okay?”

“Thanks, baby,” Tony happily responded, then his voice dropped low and uncertain. “Do you think I should bring up the picture thing next time?”

“Next time?” Peter asked but quickly realized what was meant. “Oh, for your next session? That’s up to you. If you want to talk about it, then go for it. That’s what they’re for.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “You’re right.”

Since spring break ended, a lot has happened. Tony’s dad agreed to let him move out, especially with the looming threat of a child abuse scandal above his head. More litigation was scheduled but they recently got the restraining order approved, which Aunt May called a ginormous win against that battalion of corporate lawyer dickheads .

In the meantime, May let Tony stay in their apartment. Though, despite Peter’s promises to keep his door open at night, May refused to let Tony sleep in his room. So for the next couple of months, Tony slept on the couch, and ate dinner with a smile, and watched movies that made him laugh. He sang rock ‘n’ roll when he washed dishes with May and flirted when he helped Peter carry baskets of clothes to the laundry room. His toughest days were his therapy days, when he would come back emotionally drained and tired, but even on days like that, he still managed to smile. 

After graduation, Tony surprised everyone with the announcement of his new start-up business. It was a tech company of his very own, built from his progress with Jarvis and his endless technological imagination. One good payday turned into two and soon, he was even making enough to put himself through university. May suggested MIT but Tony said he would see how he felt after summer school ended.

Moving into his own place was Tony’s next big step. Aunt May demanded that he buy the studio apartment down the hall because no eighteen year old should be all on his own, young man . All in all, things were going well and they only seemed to be getting better.

“Hey, Tones, what’s this?” Peter stepped out of the closet, holding up a brown leather jacket that seemed much too small for his boyfriend’s body. “Is this an old jacket? From before you fell into your all-black-everything phase?”

Tony laughed, shaking his head, “No, that’s actually for you.”

“What? For me?” Peter’s eyes widened as he stared at the jacket, his fingers grazing the high-quality fabric. “But why? What for?”

“Our six month anniversary extravaganza,” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t get a chance to give it to you then and, now, I guess the surprise is ruined.”

“I’m surprised,” Peter smiled as he threw on the jacket. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“Happy eight and a half months, baby.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter grinned, biting at his lip before he spoke. “After we’re finished unpacking, how about I give you your gift too?”

“My gift…?” Tony squinted but then his eyes went wide. “Really? Today? Like today today?”

Peter giggled, “I mean, I’ll have to take a shower first, but yeah.”

“Let’s fucking hurry up then,” Tony joked, making a show of his rush to unpack.

After another hour of diligent work, every box was emptied and every piece of clothing was folded and put away. Posters were hung, and kitchen cabinets were filled, and the couch was angled perfectly in front of the TV. They even carried the boxes down to the recycling bins. Everything was perfect and, when there was nothing more to do, they glanced at each other with blushing faces and simultaneous offers of you can shower first. Then awkward laughter as they corrected with a You can go ahead. No, you can, baby. Are you sure, Tones? Yeah.

It was an exchange that left Peter laying in the middle of Tony’s bed, fresh from his shower and wearing nothing but a black t-shirt from his boyfriend’s closet. Waiting anxiously as he listened to the sounds of the shower water and the hum of evening traffic pouring from the window. Scents from the soaps he had used and the lingering smoke from Tony’s ashtray wafted in the air and filled his nostrils. The only light came from a small nightstand lamp that left the room basked in a dim hue. 

Peter’s heart was racing from thoughts of what was to come and it only quickened as the water shut off. He jolted up, sitting with his calves tucked beneath his thighs, tugging at the shirt’s hem as he stared at the bathroom door. A few more minutes ticked by – where he listened to the sounds of towel drying and moisturizer bottles and toothbrushing – before the doorknob turned and his boyfriend emerged, drying his hair and wearing nothing but boxers.

Tony took a few steps before glancing up from beneath the towel, smiling when he laid eyes on Peter, “That’s a good look on you, baby.”

Peter blushed, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, “It’ll look better off of me.”

Tony gave a light laugh as he tossed the towel against the back of his desk chair, his hair unruly and damp as he made his way to the bed. “I don’t doubt that,” He said as he climbed up onto the sheets, moving to sit cross-legged in front of his boyfriend, putting their bodies only inches apart. “Hey,” He whispered, reaching to clasp their hands together. “You’re sure about this, right? You know I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Peter smiled, idly caressing his thumb against the back of Tony’s hand. Fresh shampoo scents filled his nose as he scooted closer – close enough to feel the warmth of Tony’s legs against his. “Are you?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tony grinned, lifting Peter’s hand to his chest so he could feel how fast his heart was beating. “I’ve never been more excited to fuck someone, can’t you tell?”

Peter giggled, rolling his eyes with a smile, “No way that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true,” Tony assured, smiling as he reached upward to place a gentle hand against the younger boy’s cheek, thumbing at his jawline and the underside of his chin and against the front of his throat. “You’re the first to make me so fucking nervous.”

“Good,” Peter let out a light huff, grinning, “At least we’re both on the same page.”

For a moment, Tony laughed – and Peter joined, the sound of their laughter blending together in the modest space – but then he was silent. His eyes flickering between Peter’s big brown eyes and soft inviting lips, his breath going a bit shallow as he leaned forward and his eyes fell closed.

And Peter met Tony halfway, capturing his lips, which tasted of spearmint toothpaste, in a tender kiss. One that morphed into an innocent flurry of pecks that he smiled into and took his time with. Only deepening when hands traveled to bodies and lips began to part and Tony’s grip at Peter’s sides pulled him onto his lap. And Peter dragged his hands through his boyfriend’s still damp locks, not caring about the moisture that clung to his palms as he draped his arms over Tony’s shoulders and pressed their bodies even closer.

The brush of their arousals sent a spark of pleasure to Peter’s core, reminding him of just how exposed he was. Spreading his legs caused the t-shirt to hike up, so the only thing that separated his hardness from his boyfriend’s was a thin layer of cotton boxer fabric. The friction left him whining into the kiss. The right angles had his lips stalling like the sensation threw his mind off balance and the wrong ones had his hips grinding to chase what felt so right.

Tony gripped the underside of Peter’s thighs, skimming his fingers against sensitive skin and stopping to cup his ass, pulling his body closer to incite more of that sweet friction. Then, he broke their kiss, opting to bite the younger’s bottom lip before pulling away with a smug grin, “Getting off just on this, sweetheart?”

Peter’s face flushed but he breathed a playful, “No, not at all.” Confidence was abundant in his tone but his lie was so evident in the way he continued moving his hips and showed no hesitation in letting his little moans free.

“Oh, and if I do this?” Tony asked, moving one hand to Peter’s erection, squeezing ever-so-slightly and stroking slowly from base to tip.

The sudden touch brought a breathless moan and a raspy Tony to Peter’s lips. His body tensed and his head lolled backward as the buzz of stimulation brought a bead of pre to the tip of his erection. And when Tony did it again, Peter started stammering, “I-I’ll c-come, T-Tony, I-”

“I know, baby,” Tony whispered, halting his movements to wait for Peter to calm down. “But you know better than that, right?” He grinned, a smug grin that made Peter’s already flushed face go a deeper shade of red.

“Yes,” Peter whimpered, excited by the way his boyfriend was talking to him. He liked this part of Tony – the part that was in control and confident.

“Then say it,” Tony demanded as he thumbed slowly at the head of Peter’s length.

“I-” Peter groaned, his nails digging into Tony’s shoulder blades as he fought against the urge of release. “I d-don’t come unless you say so.”

“That’s right,” Tony smiled as he went back to stroking. Watching as Peter got dangerously close to the edge and then abruptly slowing down just before the younger boy had a chance to lose it. And then he would do it again, and again he would watch his boyfriend’s wanton reactions; the sweet shaky breaths, the whole body flinches, the high-pitched moans.

Soon, Peter was sweating, skin glistening in the low light as he was mercilessly teased and edged. It was torturous but it was nice; after all, this was something they had done before. The familiar territory helped him relax, helped him cast off the anxiety and the unease, helped him to be confident and stay in the moment. Helped him find the courage to steer them towards the next step.

“Tony, I want you inside of me,” Peter moaned against his boyfriend’s ear, adding a breathy please because his body urged him to.

And Tony’s muscles tensed and his breath hitched and his eyes near dilated at the sound of his boyfriend pleading for him. "Okay," He nodded and tugged at the t-shirt. "Then take this off for me," He instructed as he halted his hands and shifted off of the bed, moving to grab a bottle and two condoms from his dresser drawer.

As Peter pulled off the t-shirt and realized what the bottle was, he blushed. He found himself embarrassed that he didn't have his own – especially when he was the one asking for his boyfriend to be inside him – and he also wondered how Tony remained so unfazed when he carried those things to the bed. 

Peter wanted to ask but he was already being pushed down against the pillows and sheets, his mouth once again being overtaken by his boyfriend’s lips. This kiss was more carnal than the last, a mix of swirling tongues and an urgency akin to hunger. 

Tony hovered downward then, trailing sloppy kisses against the younger's now bare chest, taking a moment to lick circles against each of his nipples before continuing south. Peppering more wet kisses across Peter's abdomen and, when he reached his waist, he licked his way down Peter's length, savoring the startled moan that ripped itself from the younger's throat. He smiled as he spread his boyfriend's legs and went even further, kissing beyond the base of his twitching erection, all the way to his untouched hole. 

Peter could feel the heat burning in his face and he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous, especially when Tony kissed him there . “Tony?” His voice cracked.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you tell me- um ...what you’re going to do?”

Tony blushed at that, pausing his kisses and sitting up on his knees. One hand keeping Peter's legs splayed open and the other reaching for the bottle. “I’m- uh… I’m going to finger you with this first,” He explained, the redness in his cheeks still visible as he popped the cap open. “I'm going to use a lot, so I don't hurt you too much." He brushed his fingers against Peter's entrance, "You’ve never touched here, right?”

“Never,” Peter admitted, his heart thrumming as he watched Tony coat two of his fingers with lube.

“So it’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter breathed, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the cold slick push against him. He held his breath and, with a little more pressure, a single finger was pressing into him, sliding into his tightness with little resistance. 

“How’s this?” Tony whispered, eyes frantically searching Peter's expression for any signs of pain.

Peter exhaled slow, checking in with himself as he did. It didn't feel good or bad, just foreign and unusual. He opened his eyes, gazing up at his boyfriend and speaking an honest, “Uncomfortable.”

“Should I keep going?”

“ Mhmm ,” Peter nodded, giving Tony the go-ahead to continue. 

So Tony pushed his finger deeper before pulling out slow, then he repeated, keeping his motions steady and smooth and careful. For the most part, Peter was silent, save for the small whines that escaped on the tops of his heavier breaths. In the lack of stimulation, his erection had started to soften but he was still very much aroused. The feeling of Tony's eyes on him was enough, especially when he was staring like Peter was the only thing in the world worth looking at. And between the sultry gaze and the gentle finger fucking, Peter's arousal was burning hot. It's not that bad , he thought, but the addition of another finger had him wincing.

“Wait-! Tones,” Peter flinched, reactively tensing at the pain of being stretched but fighting against the impulse when the tension only made it hurt more. “I-It hurts.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony eased, stopping his motions but keeping his two fingers halfway inside. “Is this fine?”

“Yes,” Peter’s breath was sharp on the inhale and shaky on the exhale. “J-Just don’t move.” He instructed as he forced his body to relax. The pain was not unbearable but, as a couple of minutes ticked by, the panicked thoughts swarming his mind started to be. Why do two fingers hurt like this? How am I going to fit more? Is Tony getting impatient? Is he bored with me? Is this supposed to feel good? Is something wrong with me? Peter shook his head, whispering a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” Tony immediately retorted. “If it hurts, it hurts.”

“I know but I-” Peter struggled on his words, trying to ignore his insecurities. “I just really want to make you feel good.”

“You are,” Tony leaned down, smirking as he pressed a kiss against Peter’s lips, pulling away just enough that the tips of their noses barely brushed together. “I could come just from watching you.”

“ Tones ,” Peter whined, averting his eyes, trying to hide his flushed face. “I’m serious.”

“I know but just don’t worry about me right now,” Tony asserted as he sat back up, careful to keep his fingers still. “We’re on your time, sweetheart. Take as long as you want.”

Peter locked eyes with Tony’s patient ones, feeling his anxiety ease as he did. The older boy really was just waiting, one hand gently massaging the sensitive skin of Peter’s inner thigh and the other exactly where he was told to leave it. Peter took a deep breath, actively convincing his muscles to relax and realizing that the pain was absent when he remained calm. So he breathed a quiet, “You can move them.”

And Tony nodded, wordlessly moving to squeeze more lube at Peter’s entrance before pushing his fingers in the rest of the way. Falling into the same steady pattern as before, attentively watching as Peter relaxed around the gentle finger fucking. And once Peter felt loose enough, Tony added more lube and another finger. This time, it was a painless stretch.

“Baby, you look so fucking gorgeous right now,” Tony praised as his eyes glanced across Peter’s pliant body. “You’re doing so good, you're taking my fingers so good.”

Peter’s entire body reacted to Tony’s words – even his waning erection twitched at the sound of them. “It’s for you,” Peter breathed out, his voice low and airy.

“Hm?” Tony asked, his brow slightly furrowing.

“I’m doing good for you, Tony.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you can’t talk to me like that. It’s gonna go to my head, make me lose my patience.” Tony gave a sly smile as he started curling his fingers, slowly prodding upward, searching and seeking, like he was trying to find something and – fuck.

An unexpected jolt of pleasure hit Peter so hard that, as he moaned, his voice cracked and the sound he made came out like a strangled whimper. The intensity of the feeling left him dazed, unable to process just how good it felt because Tony’s fingers were suddenly colliding with that spot again. It was almost overwhelming; a pleasure that operated somewhere between his typical orgasms and some fictional unattainable euphoria. Yet, judging by the way his hands clawed into the sheets, and the way his back arched, and the way he couldn’t exhale without a whine, this pleasure trended towards the latter.

Tony playfully grinned, unrelenting in his assault on Peter’s sensitive bundle of nerves. “Is it good, baby?” He asked as he upped the ante, bringing his free hand to stroke along his boyfriend’s stiffening length.

“ Tony !” Peter’s hands shot down, clutching at Tony’s wrist, urgently pulling his hand away from his erection. “W-Wait, I’ll come-!”

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.” Tony clutched the base of Peter’s dripping length and massaged his thumb across the wet tip, syncing his teasing with each thrust of his fingers.

Peter released a gasp that quickly morphed into a harsh moan. The heady feeling left him frantically squirming backward, trying to evade the fervent pleasure but finding himself propped up on the pillows, trapped between the headboard and his boyfriend’s torturous hands. “It’s good!” He choked out, all teary-eyed and desperate. “Tony, I- ah! Can I c-?”

“I want you to beg for more,” Tony interrupted, slowing his hands before pulling away entirely, watching with a smirk when Peter’s hips flinched to chase the contact. “Will you do that for me, baby boy?” He asked as he leaned forward, holding himself steady with one hand and placing the other against his boyfriend’s throat, squeezing just enough to make his breaths come out shallow. “Will you beg me to fuck you?”

And Peter, whose eyes were blown from the stagnant bliss, immediately did what was asked of him. “ Please .” His voice came out slightly hoarse, strained by the pressure against his neck. “Please fuck me.” He begged, keeping his eyes trained on his boyfriend’s face. “I-I want it...your dick...inside me, please .”

“Fuck, I want to fucking ruin you,” Tony whispered, using his grip on Peter’s neck to guide him into a harsh kiss before pulling away and releasing his hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much.” Then he took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re such a good boy for me, Peter.”

Peter’s heart was racing and his face was warm and his erection was aching; Tony just had that effect on him, especially when he spoke like that. “Tones, please …” He whined, eager and pouty, like he couldn’t wait another second. 

Tony laughed low, excitedly moving to pull off his boxers before returning to his place between Peter’s legs. 

And just like the first time he’d seen it, Peter had to actively prevent his jaw from dropping. Tony’s dick was big, thick, hard – basically everything Peter wanted when it was being shoved down his throat. This, however, was much different. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of it in his ass. “Is it going to hurt?” He asked on impulse.

“Maybe a little.” Tony was honest. “I stretched you a lot but it could still be uncomfortable,” He explained as he rolled on a condom and slicked on some extra lube. “But I’ll be gentle,” He said as he positioned himself at Peter’s entrance. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a small push, the tip slid right in, popping inside without resistance like Peter’s body had been used to it forever. The feeling was hot and tingly, but Peter remained calm, attempting to keep his muscles from going rigid as Tony kept going. Halfway in was more of the same but beyond that was an uncomfortable pain. Not a sharp or stinging kind of pain, but a dull and throbbing one that left Peter flinching and sucking air through teeth.

“You okay?” Tony asked as he stopped his advances, dragging a tender hand through Peter’s hair. “Is this too much?”

“No,” Peter shook his head, reaching to hold Tony’s hand. “Don’t stop, keep going, I can take it.”

Tony’s breath hitched, his resolve to be gentle faltering under the weight of Peter’s tempting words. “You want the rest of it, baby?” He asked, squeezing Peter’s hand before he pulled away, hooking his arms beneath Peter’s thighs and gripping at his waist. 

“Yes,” Peter murmured, moving to clutch at the pillow above his head, bracing himself.

So Tony pushed forward again, quicker than before, plunging deep enough to rip a loud groan from the younger boy. And then he held himself there, indulging in the pleasure of his boyfriend’s tightness, his voice strained, “How’s this?”

Peter felt like the wind was knocked out of him. The swift thrust left him tremoring around the thickness, panting like Tony’s dick had stolen his oxygen and replaced it with the strangest blend of pleasurable pain. The drag of the shaft against that bundle of nerves was what did it; he was sure, especially when Tony moved to pull out and the sensation was enough to make him feel like he was going to come. “I l-like it, Tones. It feels g-”

Peter couldn’t finish his sentence as Tony started pushing back inside. The thrust was just as fast as before, leveraged by his tugging at the younger’s waist and fueled by the ecstasy buzzing within them both. So Tony repeated his thrusts in quick succession, pulling out halfway before rolling his hips and burying himself back inside, occasionally pulling out until just the tip remained so Peter could catch his breath.

And Peter could tell with one glance that Tony was melting in the sensation; his eyes were half-lidded, his hands were gripping bruises, his forehead was beading sweat. The way his body flexed was pornographic, making Peter’s already stiffened length even stiffer, and the force of his motions was eager, overexcited, indulgent. Yet, none of that could compare to the sounds he was making. Peter had never heard Tony moan like this; so unbridled and honest. It left him leaking pre all over his stomach.

But Peter couldn’t come – not because Tony had not given permission, but because he couldn’t. The pleasure was there but orgasm still felt far away, like all he needed was just a little more. Just a little .

“Hey!” Tony grabbed Peter’s wrists, yanking them above his head and pinning them there with a single hand. “Who said you could touch yourself, hm?”

Fuck. Peter was so wrapped up in the feel of it all that he didn’t realize his hands had started moving toward his erection. “S-Sorry, I just...it wasn’t enough.” He blushed, his heart racing at his boyfriend’s strength.

“What?” Tony gave a mischievous grin, shifting his weight against Peter’s crossed wrists and bringing his free hand to Peter’s throat. “You want more?” He asked as he squeezed, laughing low when Peter gasped. “I’m not going to be gentle anymore, Peter,” He whispered, “Let me know if I should stop and I will.”

And when Peter nodded, Tony let loose. Keeping his grip at Peter’s throat steady as he slammed all the way to the base, pulling out almost entirely before driving back in. Besides the amount of force, Peter thought it would feel the same. He was wrong . So fucking wrong. This pleasure was different – different enough to leave Peter screaming – and the only changed variable was the angle. Tony wasn’t just rubbing against his prostate anymore, he was practically brutalizing it. Each thrust hitting it so directly Peter wondered if pleasure was even the right word anymore because, for him, it felt euphoric.

“This enough for you, baby boy?” Tony teased, loosening his grip on the younger’s neck as he continued his fervid assault.

Peter wanted to be playful, challenging, witty, but the only words he could manage were coated in a desperate need for release. “ Yes , T-Tony, can I- please, can I come? P-Please, please .”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Tony finally gave in, releasing Peter’s wrists and using his hand to stroke at the neglected cock. “Since you asked so nicely,” He rubbed his thumb against the head, keeping his thrusts steady. “You can come.”

And Peter did. He came harder than he ever has. All shaking and screaming and teary-eyed as his cock pulsated, shooting thick lines of cum against his stomach and twitching when Tony milked out the rest. The aftershock had him dazed and sensitive, even Tony’s touch burned with an agonizing bliss. All he could do was lay there, trembling around Tony’s dick, which remained buried deep inside of him.

“Look at you,” Tony breathed out, grinning sly as he smeared his hand through the cum. “You think we’re done?” He shook his head, bringing his wet hand against Peter’s face and rubbing it across his cheek and lips. “All that talk about wanting me to feel good, but here you are, looking fucked stupid.”

“I’m not done,” Peter exhaled, tongue darting out to lick the mess on his lips, challenging his boyfriend despite his body urging him to reject more pleasure. “We stop when you say stop.”

“Big talk,” Tony gave a light laugh and then, without warning, he lifted Peter by the waist and flipped them over. “Let’s see you back it up,” He said as he ran his fingers up the younger’s thighs. “Ride me.”

When Peter felt the gravity keeping Tony’s dick buried inside, his body screamed with overstimulation and, judging by the smug grin plastered across his boyfriend’s face, it must have shown. He didn’t care. Instead, with the goal of making Tony come at the forefront of his mind, he pressed his hands against the older’s chest, lifted his hips halfway up, and dropped them back down.

“ Fuck ,” Peter muttered under his breath, wincing from the overwhelming spark of pleasure. “Like this, Tones?” He whined as he repeated his motion, moaning and letting his hips fall into a rhythm. 

“Yeah,” Tony groaned out as he skimmed his fingers to the sides of Peter’s thighs, which would tremble after each drop. “Just like that,” He assured, his eyes flickering between Peter’s lust drunk face and his diligently working hips. “Tell me how you feel, baby boy.”

It wasn’t a question – Peter knew that – but his focus was on keeping stable, fighting through the sting of breathtaking stimulation as he vigorously bounced his hips. So, instead of obeying, he took a page out of his boyfriend’s book and talked. 

“Are you going to come inside me, Tones? Are you going to give it to me? Fuck, I want it so bad. I want your cum, Tony. You feel so fucking perfect. You stretched me so well. Look how good I fit around you now.” He managed to say it all confidently, despite his slightly ragged voice.

And it paid off because, soon after, Tony was coming. Peter could feel the warmth of his climax filling the condom inside. It was a strange but gratifying feeling, only improved by Tony’s blissed out expression.

Peter carefully lifted himself off and collapsed against the sheets. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and panting. The aftermath of his orgasm still imprinted on his senses. His body felt floaty and, if he even thought about the pleasure he had experienced, a wave of chills would quake through his body like a visceral reaction to being so utterly pleased. “Is it always like that?”

Tony breathed a short laugh, looking just as wrecked as his boyfriend. “Fuck. I hope so.”

Peter giggled as he scooted closer, draping his arm across the older’s torso, “So you liked it?”

“Yes,” Tony answered without hesitation. “Holy shit, baby, of course, I did.” He stressed as he eased into the cuddling, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. “Did you?”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed but quickly lowered his tone, blushing at his overexcitement. “It was good. Really good. You’re really good. Like almost too good.”

Tony snickered, “I’m glad, especially since I ticked every box but the one.”

“What?” Peter was confused and then he wasn’t as he remembered his drunken list of wants. “Oh. Oh! ” His blush deepened as he nervously shook his head. “You don’t have to check that box if you don’t want to. We have plenty of time to say it later. Honestly, it’s okay.”

“But I want to and you deserve it,” Tony whispered. “Because you mean everything to me, Peter.”

Peter was stunned by his boyfriend’s candid words and his heart pounded in his ears as he responded with a quiet, “I do?”

And Tony just nodded and leaned in for a kiss, pouring his emotions into the gentle contact and, as he pulled away, he whispered it . So perfect and meaningful that Peter almost burst into tears as he shakily reciprocated. The soft laughter that followed kept him grounded as Tony said it again and again and again. The moment was special. Precious. 

And it was theirs, and theirs alone.

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