#can you tell i was an AP kid in high school who got to campus early just to shit my guts out????

[bloomingonionbitch]

(rn i'm simultaneously Syd puking behind the dumpster and Carmy stuck - and unraveling - in the fridge).

[primaviva]

PAIRING: (primary) gwen stacy x fem!reader, (secondary / onsided romance) harry osborn x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: gwen has liked you for a long time, harry knew this. to gwen's surprise, harry actually liked her for much longer, something she only learned when he confessed and asked her to prom. gwen's rejection hit harry hard. you can imagine gwen's shock when, just as she was about to tell you how she felt and ask to be your date, you revealed that you already had a date. harry osborn.

WARNINGS/NOTES: misunderstandings trope like heavy, a lot of cursing, manipulation on harry’s part, angstyyy, suggestive toward the end, jealous n angry gwen vs sassy man harry, white boys doin too much and not proof read

as summer's hot embrace swept across queens, whispers of anticipation filled the air in midtown high.

the arrival of prom.

the streets adorned themselves with vibrant hues of gold and scarlet, echoing the spirit of the season that gripped the hearts of every new yorker. decorative banners danced in the breeze on campus, proudly displaying the school's emblem as a symbol of community pride. the heat and constant air conditioning mingled with the distant sound of a marching band practicing their lively tunes, weaving a tapestry of nostalgia and excitement for all the locals and alumni.

prom, a cherished tradition to no one but the beckoned who peaked in high school. let’s be real here, what teen beside the tryhard kids trying to form the perfect resume for college genuinely cared for homecoming? nah, not one. the only excitement that came from it was being able to get free food, dress cute, some photo ops with your partner, and just hanging out with your friends. you could technically count the performances by the school bands and dance teams but to be honest all the talent was overshadowed by the patriotic midtown chants praising the school for its community and kindness even though you could’ve swore you saw flash thompson trying to beat on some freshman in the hall the other day.

it’s midtown high… mid is in the name. to be quite honest, you weren’t expecting much. you didn’t even have a date in mind, you just knew you’d end up going with your small friend group consisting of your best friend gwen, peter, and harry.

you were brought back to reality when your teacher pulled an ‘i’ll wait’ on some girl in the front who was just as confused as the rest of the class and was simply asking someone else for help.

as the minutes ticked by in the seemingly endless ap english class, the only escape you found was talking gwen during class to keep you sane.

you leaned towards gwen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "i feel like i’m trapped in a literary prison. is it just me, or does every sentence, as soon as she opens her mouth, sounds like some philosophy subreddit bullshit?"

gwen stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "oh, trust me, it's not just you. i think i've somehow deciphered the hidden meaning behind every comma in this book. it's like we're on a quest for the nonexistent holy grail of english assignments."

you both burst into a fit of laughter, struggling to contain your amusement while keeping a watchful eye on the teacher. the irony of the situation wasn't lost on you— the passionate exploration of language and literature reduced to a burdensome chore.

however, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of jealous eyes on you. the prickling sensation at your neck coming from the back of the class made you turn your head slightly, and you caught a glimpse of harry's eyes fixed on gwen, his expression tinged with jealousy. his lips pressed together in a tight line as he bit down on them, lost in his thoughts to notice that you caught him looking. he seemed almost irritated at you by the way he stared and to your understanding, for no reason. it’s not like you did any sneak shit behind his back or got on his nerves .

caught in the awkwardness of the moment, harry mustered a teasing smile and gave a nod, as if attempting to play off being caught. the nod was like a silent statement from him to you, that he felt the same way you did in the class. bored as hell.

but beneath the facade, the tension simmered, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface. questions swirled in your mind, but for now, you chose to let it go and return your focus to gwen.

"this class single handedly ruined how i’ll read for the rest of my life, and you know how much i love to read edgar allen poe," you whispered, barely able to contain your sarcasm.

gwen leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "i swear, if i have to dissect one more sonnet, my brain cells will start killing themselves."

the bell's sudden ring startled both of you, cutting short your whispered complaints and signaling the end of yet another mundane class. you exchanged a knowing look, relief and mischief dancing in both your eyes.

"finally, damn!" you exclaimed under your breath. "let's get out of here before we start speaking in iambic pentameter."

gwen nodded, her lips curled into a smile. "i can't wait another second."

together, you gathered your belongings, trying to suppress the lingering laughter that threatened to bubble. as you made your way towards the door, the teacher's eyes scanned the room, momentarily pausing on your mischievous glances, but quickly moving on.

you were about to respond to her joke when harry osborn approached you two with a slightly hesitant yet determined stride. his sudden interruption caught both of you off guard.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice shaky. "can we talk for a minute?"

your curiosity piqued, but you gave gwen an understanding look and assured gwen that you would wait for her at the lockers, giving her a reassuring smile. with a nod, she followed harry to a quieter corner of the hallway, leaving you to be nosy and wonder what the conversation could be about. time seemed to stretch as you leaned against the lockers, the echoes of passing students fading into the background.

minutes turned into an eternity before gwen finally emerged from the conversation, as she walked toward you, you could sense the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. without a word, she shook her head, her eyes filled with unspoken thoughts.

"what did harry want? some chemistry homework answers that been due since last week?" you asked playfully, trying not to make it seem like you were praying for information.

it’s not like you were jealous of harry or envious of him for talking to gwen, you knew where you two stood. but just the way he looked at you? just rubbed you the wrong way. and you couldn't lie and say the curiosity wasn’t killing you as to why he had to pull gwen away from the public to just ‘talk to her.’

gwen's eyes met yours, looking unusually reserved. she hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice barely above a whisper. "it’s nothing, really. he just asked me a stupid question. don’t worry about it."

you left it at that, not wanting to force her into talking about something that was clearly private. you respected her desire to just move on. still, a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you couldn't resist a teasing remark.

"did he ask you to be his secret prom date?" you quipped, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

gwen's face turned pale for a moment before her cheeks flushed slightly as she shook her head, a subtle smile gracing her lips. "no, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. i um… i actually have someone in mind."

you felt your cheeks heat up at her comment, but also a gut wrenching feeling in your stomach. could she be talking about you? no, but then again all the moments where your legs brushed together while you sat, the lingering gazes and stolen looks, her hands on your waist when she guided you through a big crowd, just all the times where the lines between best friend and more became blurred.

however, gwen remained silent, her intentions veiled for now.

you two had similar schedules, so it was everyday you two walked to your classes together. as the two of you made your way to study hall, gwen broke the silence, "wanna share headphones while we work?"

her hand brushed against yours, your breath hitching as you became hyper aware of how close gwen was. you could feel her continue to stare into your eyes as she intertwined her hand with yours. a smile bloomed across your face as you nodded in agreement, unaware of someone else glaring at you from a distance. again.

weeks passed since then. before, prom was less than a month away. now? just days.

you still didn’t have a date. part of you wanted to just go along, not having any interest and anyone besides gwen. but another part of you was still holding onto hope, living in the fantasy world of the imaginary scenarios that she’ll ask you out.

there were doubts in your mind if gwen liked you, and even if you liked her. she’s your friend, best friend even. but your friendship with her is so different from the way you both treat your other friends. you don’t let your other friends call you names, sit on their lap while their hands wrap around your waist, stay up on friday nights and fall asleep on the phone, and so much more. it was more than just the physical attraction you had to gwen, it was the chemistry between you two. you admit, gwen is more than fine. to her tall demeanor and athletic body, and not to mention the hair and piercings. but the way she understood you more than anyone else was the biggest turn on of them all. she can read you like the back of her hand. she knows when you’re sad, when something’s bothering you, when you’re overwhelmed and just want someone to run away with even if it’s temporary.

all year it seemed that you both had been running circles around each other. there was just something different about the way she stared straight into your eyes as you talked about something. or the times where you swear you saw her biting down on her lip as she sneakily checked you out before you could catch her and she’d tell you how pretty you are. the times you would ask her to repeat stuff on the phone because you just loved hearing her voice just to fall asleep to it. the time where she noticed you looked at her while she cleaned her drumsticks and she told you it’s rude to stare. the times where she had no problem sneaking into your home from through your window to comfort you after a fight with your parents.

she felt like your other half and that’s what confused you. everyone talked about their best friend like that, but you and gwen didn’t seem like friends. and you can’t tell anymore if that’s good or bad.

it was clear you were attracted to gwen in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help but be in denial because of your fear that if you did pursue something romantic with her you could possibly ruin your friendship forever, and you couldn’t imagine your life without her.

gwen couldn’t imagine her life without you either, harry knew that first hand. which is why he’s on his way to your place right now.

harry osborn mustered up the courage to confess his feelings to gwen, his heart pounding with anticipation. he found her in the hallway, took a deep breath, and poured out his emotions, confessing his affection and asking her to be his date for the upcoming prom.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. "i've been meaning to tell you something... i really like you. you're amazing, talented, and so fearless. i’ve admired you for a while. so, i was wondering if you'd go to prom with me?"

gwen listened attentively, a kind smile on her face that slowly dropped as she kept talking. but before harry could catch his breath, she gently interrupted him.

"harry, look, i appreciate you telling me this and you're such an amazing friend," gwen replied, her soft and cautious. "but, i can’t go with you. i’m sorry it’s just… i actually had something on my mind too for a while. i've been wanting to tell (y/n) how i feel about her for a while now and so i thought prom would be the best excuse. i've just been nervous about it because i don’t want ti ruin anything. you understand, right?"

harry's face fell slightly, his disappointment flickering across his features. he tried his best to hide the bitterness he felt, realizing that gwen's heart was set on someone else.

"oh... i see," harry responded, trying to sound nonchalant. "don’t worry, gwen. i get it. i never caught on that you liked our (y/n), that’s my bad. i'm sure you’ll both have an amazing time at the dance when you ask her."

gwen's expression softened, "thank you, harry. i hope this doesn’t make anything too weird or weirder than it needs to be. friends?"

harry forced a smile, masking his envy as best as he could. "of course, gwen. friends always."

but as gwen turned to leave, harry's mind started to spin. thoughts of revenge began to cloud his judgment.

how could gwen stacy reject him? it was all he could think of. ‘she’s just a cop's daughter’ he thought, balling his hands into a fist.

“hey, could you speed it up?” he pressed the driver, quickly apologizing. “sorry i just… the waiting is killin’ me.”

maybe it was the bitterness fueling his need to boost his own ego, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the rejection. all his life, harry was given what he wanted without a second thought from his father or the people around him. it seemed that for the first time he couldn’t have what he wanted and didn't know how to act.

that’s what led him here, to the front of your place. harry pushed open the car door, his oxford shoes hitting the pavement.

“wait for us, will you?” he asked the driver but the tone of his voice made it clear that it was an order.

harry : hey sweets

harry : go look outside your window for me sent at 4:53

you were doing your homework when suddenly you felt a vibration against your desk. you turned your head to the side and noticed your phone lighting up. with a sigh wanting to take a break from working, you picked it up and your eyes went wide as you saw who it was who texted you. part of you hoped it was gwen, but no, it was harry.

the message on your lock screen made you cringe as soon as you saw that he had called you ‘sweets.’

“the hell is this boy on now,” you muttered, swiping up to see the full text in messages.

you : tf you mean look out my window… did you take your daddy’s medicine by any chance ?? sent at 4:55

before you even gave him the chance to reply, you walked up to your window and pushed the curtain to the side. looking down, you were met with the sight of harry typing on his phone before looking up at you with a charming smile.

harry : you wanna come down rapunzel?

you let out a scoff, the sides of your mouth twitching into a smile as you made your way downstairs. you unlocked the door, opening it to be met with harry walking up to you and revealing a beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers to you. it looked expensive and it glowed in the sun.

“don’t tell me those are for me,” you spoke in a whisper, voice caught in your throat from how unexpected this all was.

he smiled, putting the bouquet in my hand as the floral aroma filled my senses. “then i won’t, just take them princess.”

harry knew you were getting weirder out by his behavior just by the way your face had this stank look to it. not like you were disgusted by him or anything, but by how confusing this was.

“what?” he asked with a smirk.

“you’re just acting a lil’ strange is all,” you replied slowly, squeezing the bouquet to your chest and sniffing the assortment. “they smell beautiful harry, thank you. but no offense, why are you outside my home dressed like james dean?”

he did a low chuckle as he looked into your eyes. sure, harry was cute though he wasn’t necessarily your type. and while it is really attractive to have someone dress nice for you, call you sweet things, and even come to your home with flowers, it was just weird. it was just weird. why him?

"just walk with me, please?" harry asked, extending his hand towards you.

“and sight see all the power plants?” you mocked, but seeing the pleasing look on his face made you fold. you hesitated, but ultimately took him up on it.

as you took his hand, you felt his grip tighten, pulling you uncomfortably close. "i'm sure there's a beautiful waterfront or some other scenic spot for us to explore," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.

you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and curiosity flickering in your eyes. despite your reservations, you found yourself drawn to him and his intentions.

“you look beautiful today,” he added, still looking forward as the glow of the sky highlighted his face.

you let out a laugh, causing him to glare at you from the corner of his eye.

“oh harry, you’re so charming, thank you,” you teased, voice monotone to poke fun at his advances.

he let out a chuckle as you both approached the waterfront. golden hour was approaching, and the sky was painted a deep orange with yellow highlights and a beauty exuding from it. the clouds were faint and moved slowly to the side, like careful paint strokes to a canvas.

as you released your hand from harry's, you walked toward the ledge, taking in the awe-inspiring scenery. it felt like a moment of pure magic, as if the world had paused to allow you to appreciate the simple pleasures surrounding you. the gentle caress of the warm breeze, the distant echoes of laughter, and the soothing sound of water rippling in the wind created a serene ambiance.

harry initiated the conversation, breaking the silence. "you've never been here before?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

you met his gaze with a sly smile, “nah, i never have time to do stuff like this. im always busy with my own responsibilities so it doesn’t really cross my mind to do a tinder style long walks down the cigarette infested new york streets and visit all the landscapes.”

harry approached you, leaning against the ledge with a smile playing on his lips. he let out a genuine chuckle, appreciating your sense of humor.

"there's the (y/n) i know," he remarked, his tone filled with affection. "always quick with the sarcasm. it's one of the many things that make you so likable. you have this unique and mysterious charm about you.”

you studied him for a moment, a dry laugh escaping your lips. "secret charm?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow. "i've never really made an effort to talk to anyone, so l'd be surprised if i had any secret admirers.”

“well, allow me to introduce you to one of them,” he said as he took your hand in his and gave it a chest kiss.

harry's expression turned softer, and he took your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on your palm. his eyes held a glimmer of and a hint of seduction.

"i know we haven't always been the closest, but lately, you've been on my mind. a lot," he confessed, bringing your hand to rest against his chest. "i've admired you from afar, and i've been nervous to be around you. you're not just gorgeous, but smart, witty, and so much more. i can't imagine going to prom with anyone else but you. so, would you honor me by being my date?"

your heart skipped a beat with each word he spoke. shock washed over you, and your face revealed a mix of emotions. while you value your friendship with harry, you didn't share the same romantic feelings. you hesitated, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts.

but something about it was off. while his words seemed genuine and soft, his eyes told a different story. they were dark and deceptive, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. it sent a shiver down your spine, making you question his true intentions. the way he stared at you felt predatory, like he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at his prey. it created an alarming imbalance of power, as if he was counting on something beyond your control.

"harry," you began, your voice gentle but firm. “i’m really sorry for this but i don’t see you that way. i’m flattered but you have to understand… there are other girls that would love to go with you. you’re a heartthrob, y’know? you can get anyone with your appeal. it’s just that i’ve liked gwen for a while and have been waiting for something to happen but-“

“it seems i really can’t get anyone, (y/n),” he spat out in anger. harry's demeanor shifted, his face contorting with anger. he turned slightly away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to regain composure. his tone dripped with bitterness as he spoke. “gwen huh? always gwen, isn’t it?”

“what?” you mouthed in confusion.

"you really think gwen would ever ask you to prom? better yet, you think she likes you?" he sneered, closing the distance between you until your chests almost touched.

“get outta my face, i’m leaving,” you demanded, frustration welling up inside you as you pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance. “harry, fuck off of me.”

but harry's arms held you firmly in place, preventing your escape. his voice took on a mocking tone as he continued to belittle you.

"gwen already has a date. some kid named miles from out of town. she's been talking to him for a while now," he informed you, his words hitting you like a blow. "she doesn't want you, never has. she's just being nice, pretending to be your friend. so i don’t know when or how you tricked yourself into thinking she has any interest in you."

your world seemed to crumble around you, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. your legs grew weak, and you struggled to maintain your composure. tears welled up in your eyes, and you wiped them away, attempting to regain your composure before facing him.

“i know, it’s hard to hear. and she’s a fool for ever letting a girl like you slip away,” he continued, his tone shifting once again. "but you deserve better, (y/n). gwen is a selfish coward who only goes after what she wants with no regard for others. you deserve someone who appreciates you. someone like me. let me show you how you should be treated."

you took a step back, turning away from him, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. the tears flowed freely now, and a sense of disbelief washed over you. had you been deluding yourself all this time? was there truly no spark between you and gwen?

a forced smile played on your lips as you turned to face harry again, your entire demeanor transformed. it was as if a switch had been flipped, and you presented a facade that masked your true emotions.

"i'd love to go with you," you spoke weakly, your voice devoid of its usual strength. though you didn't reciprocate his feelings, you wanted a distraction. maybe he could give you the attention he claimed you deserved.

a wide, unsettling smile spread across harry's face, his expression taking on an eerie quality. it was a smile that sent shivers down your spine, as if there was something unsettling behind it. you couldn't shake off the feeling that his happiness wasn't truly about you saying yes.

"i'm glad," he replied, pulling you closer to his side. "let's get you home."

as you made your way back home with harry, the atmosphere became increasingly tense. the once-pleasant and work filled evening had transformed into an uncomfortable walk home. harry's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully.

you attempted to break the silence, hoping to alleviate the mounting unease. "so, what are we gonna wear? have you thought about it?"

harry's response was curt and lacking his usual warmth. "i have a few ideas in mind. we'll figure it out."

you couldn't help but notice the change in his demeanor, his friendly and charismatic personality replaced by something cold and distant. doubts and concerns swirled in your mind, but you couldn't find the energy to voice them. instead, you kept quiet, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.

upon reaching your house, you turned to face harry, attempting to gauge his mood. "thanks for walking me home," you told him, your voice laced with uncertainty. "i'll see you at school tomorrow."

harry's eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and unsettling. "no need to thank me," he replied with a slight sneer. "i'll be seeing a lot more of you from now on."

confusion washed over you as you watched him walk away, his figure disappearing into the night. something was undeniably wrong, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger. you retreated into your home, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

you went into your room and just jumped into your bed and before you knew it your eyes were wet and you blacked out.

it was saturday morning, and the events of the previous night were a blur in your memory. as you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed, you glanced down at your clothes, and suddenly, it all came rushing back. you had spent the entire night looking over old photos of you and gwen, shedding tears, before finally succumbing to exhaustion and taking a hot shower to soothe your emotions.

your face felt tight and slightly flushed as you made your way to the mirror. you examined your reflection, noticing the lingering redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. even your voice seemed affected, carrying a hint of strain from the relentless sobbing that had consumed you.

it wasn't the news itself that hurt you. it was fine if gwen didn't have romantic feelings for you because it’s not like you’re entitled to her. if anything, you found relief in knowing that your friendship could still remain intact. but the way harry had delivered it to you was harsh and blunt, forcing you to confront things you hadn't even considered before.

to realize that gwen may have never seen you in a romantic light, not even once, left you feeling foolish. the most humiliating part was the possibility of misreading every interaction, every gesture, and every shared moment. and to learn from harry of all people that she had someone else all along made you question how long she had been interested in miles without ever mentioning it to you. although you had heard his name mentioned a few times, it had never crossed your mind that gwen had feelings for him. and it definitely didn’t cross your mind that they had been talking as of recently.

your phone began to ring, causing a pang of agony to surge through you. "please, let it be a scam call," you silently pleaded, yearning for a moment of solitude to process your thoughts.

reluctantly, you picked up the phone and turned it around to see the caller's identity. it was gwen. you felt conflicted as your stomach began to turn once again. on one hand, you longed to talk to her, driven by the depth of your feelings. but on the other hand, the internal embarrassment you felt made you want to avoid her at all costs.

summoning your courage, you swiped to answer the call. "hi," you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to conceal any cracks.

there was a brief silence on the other end, and then gwen spoke with concern in her voice. "(y/n), are you okay? i tried texting you last night, but you didn't respond," she questioned.

"oh, um, yeah. i've just been having sleepless nights, so i went to bed early," you explained, attempting to brush off the previous night's emotional turmoil. "sorry bout’ that."

"are you sure everything's alright? it sounds like you've been crying," she pressed, genuine worry coloring her words. "if you need someone to talk to or if you want me to come over, just let me know. i’ll be there.”

"i'm fine. i wasn't crying, i literally just mentioned being tired," you replied, irritation seeping into your tone.

"i just want you to be honest with me. can i still come over? i have something i want to tell you," she mustered the courage to ask.

this was gwen's moment. she had been gathering her strength to speak to you about for so long, and now she was ready to make her request.

"yeah, sure. actually, i have something to tell you too," you added, your voice steadier now.

“okay, great- i mean good. i’ll see you later, okay?” she spoke, her voice cheery but a little nervous.

“see you later,” you replied, repeating it back to her as you hung up.

hours had past and it had only made you more anxious. what did she want to tell you? why wasn’t she here already?

you had already changed your clothes and fixed up your appearance to make yourself more presentable. you made sure to put some concealer under your eyes too to try and draw attention away from the puffiness and fading redness.

the knock at your door gave you a temporary relief from the anxiety of your mind as you went to go open it and greet gwen.

“hey,” she greeted, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into a hug.

you hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t resist the need to feel her touch. you wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. there was something so comforting about her touch and gentleness. you both pulled back as gwen stared deeply into your eyes. her hands drifted from the sides of your waist to the small of your back as both your eyes flicked over each other's features.

“are you gonna raid my fridge or wanna go straight to my room?” you asked, teasing her as you broke the unspoken tension between you two.

she giggled as a smirk appeared on her lips. she gave your back a gentle slap, “hey! and no thank you, i actually wanted to come talk to you about something that’s been on my mind,” she confessed.

“oh okay,” you said silently, leading her to your room.

gwen made herself comfortable as she plopped herself on your bed. she manspreaded her legs as she threw her head back against your wall, giving you a glimpse of her faint adam's apple before looking down at you. her hair had gotten longer since she shaved the sides, turning it into more of an undercut now as it framed her face beautifully. it was moments like these you remembered that gwen had equally good looks to match her personality. god, she was so breathtaking. her outfit was an oversized band hoodie that overlapped the tied flannel shirt around your waist, paired with black leggings and her signature teal converse.

"do you always have to take up all the space in my bed?" you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you placed your hands on your hips.

gwen responded with a playful groan, accompanied by a mischievous look. "oh please, there's plenty of room," she retorted, patting the empty space next to her, inviting you to join.

taking a deep breath, you couldn't resist the playful banter, and you sat down next to her, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"so?" you prompted, your voice filled with anticipation, hoping she would take the lead in the conversation.

gwen's hesitation lingered in the air, her gaze momentarily shifting away as she gathered her thoughts. "i don't know... i've been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and, well, with prom coming up..."

before she could continue, you blurted out your own news, interrupting her. "harry asked me to prom."

the sudden interruption hung in the air, momentarily breaking the flow of the conversation. the nervous smile on gwen's face dropped immediately, and she sat up, her eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

"he what?" she questioned, her voice low and raspy, almost demanding you to repeat yourself.

"harry came here yesterday with flowers and asked me to be his prom date," you explained, sensing gwen's anger starting to simmer.

"(y/n), are you being serious with me right now?" she asked again, slowly rising from the bed as her anger began to surface.

"why the hell would i make any of this up, gwen?" you responded, a touch of frustration in your voice. "he said that he's liked me for a long time and that all he's been thinking about is asking me to prom."

gwen was in shock. anger fueled her thoughts toward harry. could he really be plotting revenge against her like this? was it possible that he would go to such lengths?

"do you think you're the first person he's told that to? he's not what you think," gwen told you firmly, her voice tinged with hurt and anger.

your irritation grew. you couldn't understand why gwen was so angry when she already had a date.

"really? so what is he then?" you questioned, your voice matching her intensity as you stood up to meet her gaze.

"i'll tell you this, he isn't the damn saint you're making him out to be!" gwen exclaimed, her anger palpable. "he's an actor, and if he's got you so hooked with a ten-minute performance, he's probably next in line for an oscar."

you scoffed at her frustration. "you have no business being mad at me for this when you already have your own date. do you want to have your cake and eat it too? because i'm sorry to tell you this, but that's not gonna slide with me. i'm allowed to have fun and talk to whoever i want," you declared, standing your ground.

gwen's eyes furrowed, and she put a hand over her mouth, taking a deep exhale before turning back to you.

"what date? what the hell are you talking about?" she hastily asked.

"don't play with me, gwen. i heard about you and miles. if it's not supposed to be a secret, then why didn't you mention it at all?" you raised your voice, frustration evident.

confusion etched over gwen's face. "did obnoxious osborn tell you this? because it's all bullshit, and he's talking out of his ass. he's literally known for being a heartthrob and making out with random girls in our class under the bleachers. come on, you know better than this," she explained, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and concern.

“i said don’t play with me, i’m not here to listen to you act childish and sound like a psycho tryna rhyme his name with the first words you can think of from a kids vocab book,” you yellee, quicklime calming yourself down.

you took a deep breath, ready to finish this.

"do i know better?" you repeated, stepping closer to her. "you're always disappearing randomly and refusing to open up about it. you act one way and then another, and you give me so many mixed signals that i've had enough of it!"

it felt like everything was falling apart, like a chaotic mess that couldn't be unraveled. after years of friendship, it was collapsing before your eyes like dominoes.

"i can't talk about it, okay? i have my own stuff, and you've never pressed me to tell you anything about that, so i know that’s not the real reason you’re upset," gwen argued back, her voice strained. "the mixed signals are what i came here to talk to you about, (y/n). i... i don't want to be friends with you anymore!" she admitted, her vulnerability showing through.

the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. you took a couple of steps back, feeling the ground shift beneath you. is this what harry was talking about? no, you knew better than to trust him over gwen. but in this moment of vulnerability, the conflicting information dragged you in two different directions. was it true that she didn't want to be friends with you, as harry had tried to convince you, or did she see it entirely differently?

gwen put her hands over her face, gripping her hair out of frustration. she tried to step forward, reaching a hand out to you, but you refused, holding your ground.

"shit... (y/n), i didn't mean for it to come out like that," she attempted to explain, her voice choked with tears as she realized the intensity of the situation.

"leave," you told her, your voice stern and harsh.

"what? you can't be serious," she pleaded. "you don't seriously choose his word over mine, do you?"

"no! i just- i just can't do this right now, and i need you to leave," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of pain and frustration.

the room fell into an uneasy silence as gwen stared at you, her eyes wide reflecting her disbelief. slowly, she walked past you, tears streaming down her face as she looked down to avoid your gaze, and left without saying another word.

as the door closed behind her, you sank to the floor, feeling a heavy emptiness settle in your chest. the weight of the broken friendship added a weight onto you, and you couldn't help but question whether things could ever be the same again.

"you told her you didn't want to be friends anymore?" peter asked in disbelief as he leaned against a nearby locker, his eyes fixed on gwen.

gwen let out a frustrated sigh as she slammed her locker shut after putting her books inside, resting her back against it. "i didn't mean it like that, peter. i was just caught off guard. and to make matters worse, harry sabotaged everything," she explained, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "i never even saw it coming.

peter stepped beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "you know (y/n), gwen. she's smart and strong. she won't let harry manipulate her, and deep down, i think you know she doesn't have any real interest in him," he reassured her, urging her to have faith in your judgment.

gwen nodded, her eyes closing shut as she palmed her face. "i know, it's just... the thought of her with harry makes me physically sick," she admitted,

the image of you with someone else haunted gwen's thoughts. and knowing the person was harry, who didn’t even love or care for you, made it so much worse. she knew he could never love you the way she does. he was merely using you as a pawn in his little game, and it infuriated her that you were dragged into this one-sided fight.

"speak of the devil," peter muttered, gesturing for gwen to look down the hallway.

her eyes landed on you, engaged in a casual conversation with your friend liz allen. that was normal, but what wasn't normal was harry by your side, holding your hand as you strolled confidently down the hallway together. gwen's heart sank as she felt her tongue press against the inside of her cheek. he noticed her gaze and it only made his smirk grow.

“i'm gonna go with liz. see you later," you said to harry before walking away, leaving him with a warm smile

on his face.

"i'ii catch up with you later, baby," he replied, his tone affectionate as you disappeared into a nearby classroom.

gwen winced at the nickname, her inner cheek now bearing the marks of her biting down on it. she let out a deep sigh, her eyes still fixed on harry as he made his way over to her and peter.

"why the long face? the frown doesn't suit you," he taunted, trying to provoke a reaction from gwen.

and it worked.

gwen's frustration boiled over, and without hesitation, she grabbed harry by the collar and pushed him up against the wall, surprising him with her sudden burst of anger. the unexpected aggression caught harry off guard, eliciting a loud grunt from him.

"gwen, wait!" peter called out, attempting to intervene and calm her down.

“she’s not just some toy you can pick up and play with until you don’t need her anymore. she has nothing to do this with and you're seriously pathetic for going this low by dragging her into this just to get back at me,” gwen asserted.

harry let out a mocking laugh, trying to mask his surprise. he carefully chose his words, well aware that the hallways were empty at this time.

“but toys are meant to be played with by definition,” he said, his voice dripping with coldness. “does it make you mad when you see her with me? when i get to touch her the way you’ve wanted for so long and you couldn’t? you call me pathetic, but you couldn't even gather the courage to tell her how you feel. holding her hand made you shy away like a little girl," he retorted.

gwen yanked him forward before forcefully slamming him back into the wall. her eyes blazed with fierce determination. "you are the embodiment of pathetic, harry. this whole mess started because i don't like you, and guess what? that hasn't changed. you believe yourself to be sophisticated and superior to everyone else, but all you do is push others down to get yourself where you want to go. you disguise it behind the glamor and the clothes but behind it you’re just a lowlife with no real friends. you aren’t entitled to anybody or anything. and i guess since you’ve been spoiled all your life it’s up to me to teach you that no amount of money or charm will buy you dignity.”

taking a deep breath, gwen eased her grip on his collar, releasing him from her hold. “you think life is one big party and people are just trends you can skip over, but mark my words, you’re in for a rude awakening,” she stated.

"and what are you going to do?" he jeered, mocking her. what could she possibly do to free herself from the drama harry has ensnared her in, purely for his own sadistic pleasure of watching her life crumble?

"you'll see. but next time you dare to pull a stunt like this, remember who you're messing with," she warned, giving harry a menacing glare as she walked away, accompanied by peter.

gwen wouldn’t let harry get away with this. to her, this wasn’t about revenge, this was about you. this was about her doing right by you and treating you how you truly deserved to be treated. she was going to make sure you know exactly how she feels.

the day of prom had arrived, and the anticipation weighed heavily on your shoulders. it was evident that harry's focus lay not in the outfits you both wore, but rather in the desire to be seen with you. perhaps he aimed to stoke gwen's jealousy, to make her realize what she couldn't have.

as you slipped into your dress, its flattering silhouette accentuating your figure with an open back and slit, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. the night you once eagerly anticipated now loomed before you with apprehension. the fallout between you and gwen had left a void, and the lack of communication had extended to peter as well. the thought of addressing the situation felt overwhelming, so you chose the path of avoidance, despite knowing deep down that it may not have been the wisest decision.

occasional conversations with peter only served to reinforce your initial doubts about harry. he told you that he was acting sketchy, his fight with gwen, and you also shared with him the things harry had told you in his little speech. you acknowledged the validity of those doubts, but a part of you couldn't help but harbor anger towards gwen. you longed for her to take the initiative, to approach you and express her true feelings. while you understood her struggle with vocalizing emotions, the prolonged silence of unspoken words and the feeling of being strung along intensified the tension between you. it was a painful realization that your feelings for gwen had no sign of fading away soon, yet they seemed to have no chance to blossom into something more either. the stagnation gnawed at your heart.

the internal conflict in your mind tormented you, a battle between your desire for gwen's love and the frustration of her fears.

as you stood in front of the mirror, the anxiety of the night filled the air. the sound of a car pulling up outside your home signaled the arrival of harry, who had graciously offered to be your escort for the evening.

taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and made your way downstairs to meet harry. as you opened the door, he greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

“aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” harry stated as he leaned against your door frame. he wore all black which included his blazer and khaki’s, but instead of a button up he fancied himself in a matching black turtleneck. his shoes were equally dark oxford’s that he sported casually.

“who are you, someone’s grandpa?” you asked as a harsh tease.

all he did was chuckle in response, not sensing your bitterness toward him.

"ready for a night to remember?" harry asked, extending his hand to you.

you hesitated for a moment, torn between your heart and your mind. yet, you were in too deep and it felt all you could do now was seize the opportunity to make the best of your prom. you took harry's hand, allowing him to lead you towards the awaiting car.

stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in luxury. the plush leather seats and the soft ambiance of the car created an atmosphere of opulence. as the vehicle glided through the city streets, you couldn't help but marvel at the passing lights and how beautiful new york looked transformed by the night sky.

you glanced absentmindedly at the raindrops trickling down the window, seeking solace in the gentle rhythm of the drizzle. it acted as a soothing distraction from the swirling thoughts that occupied your mind, thoughts that revolved around one person in particular— gwen.

harry, perceptive as ever, sensed the weight of your emotions.

"you know you made the right decision," he remarked as he edged closer to you, his voice having an untruthful undertone.

you gave him a glare from the side of your eye before turning to face him.

“why do you say that?” you questioned, growing frustrated with everything.

"well, with gwen, you would've never reached this point," he responded simply.

his words stung, it was a bitter realization, one that left a sour taste in your mouth.

a wry smile played on harry's lips as he reached out to adjust the corsage he had bestowed upon you, an accessory chosen not out of admiration, but as a symbol of his possession over you.

harry sensed your conflicted state and attempted to try and ease you up.

"i may have attended plenty of lavish events in this car since i was young," harry continued, a faint shadow of a smile dancing on his lips. "but tonight... tonight feels different with you."

the words echoed hollowly, devoid of the genuine emotions you had secretly yearned for. they were a stark reminder that beneath the glittering facade, harry's intentions were far from pure. you didn’t respond, instead you chose to nod at his words as you recognized you were near the school.

"here we are, mr. osborn," the driver announced, interrupting the tense atmosphere.

harry's face lit up with a triumphant gleam as he turned toward you, extending his hand. reluctantly, you accepted his hand, stepping out of the car, the light raindrops falling around you like a somber symphony. as you made your way towards the entrance, you steeled yourself, preparing yourself for whatever mess that you knew you were about to get into.

as you stepped into the prom venue, a wave of excitement washed over you. the energy was electrifying, with music bouncing off the walls and vibrant lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room. the once crappy gym had been transformed into a breathtaking space, adorned with elegant decorations that made the room look so enchanting and full of life.

the makeshift dance floor was enticing, its polished surface gleaming invitingly under the soft glow of the overhead chandeliers. couples twirled gracefully, their movements synchronized with the rhythm of the music. laughter filled the air as friends greeted each other and took pictures.

the walls were adorned with cascading drapes and shimmering streamers, creating a whimsical backdrop. tables were meticulously arranged, adorned with centerpieces of flowers and flickering candles, adding a special touch to the scene. everywhere you looked, the place was alive.

the dj stationed at the center of the room skillfully curated a playlist that blended popular hits and timeless classics. the beats throbbed through the speakers, encouraging everyone to take to the dance floor and lose themselves into the night.

as you made your way further into the so-called venue, you caught glimpses of friends and classmates as they passed by. yet, still no sight of gwen.

as the hours ticked by, you found yourself consumed by an unexplainable longing to see her. the mere thought of seeing her again stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you, leaving you restless on the dance floor and yearning for her presence.

throughout the night, you caught fleeting glimpses of her, mere fragments that left you wanting more. your attention was drawn to the distinct elements that composed her captivating image. her hair, cascading in waves, held a hint of mystery, teasing you with its untamed elegance. the sight of her donning a black leather jacket ignited a sense of rebellious allure, adding an edgy touch to her.

your eyes traced the contours of her neck adorned with a black choker, layered with multiple necklaces, each one a reflection of her individuality. beneath the jacket, a pink dress peeked through, its front short and the back long, while a layer of dark purple added on top.

black knee-length tights hugged her legs and as your gaze descended, you couldn't help but notice the black boots that completed her look.

as you swayed to the music, engrossed in conversation with your friends, harry slipped out of your view, claiming he was going to fetch drinks for the two of you. he made his way to the drink table, where an array of drinks and desserts awaited.

with a hint of mischief, harry muttered to gwen, "oh, don't mind me, just getting a drink for me and my girl." he poured two glasses, a calculated move to incite a sense of jealousy, knowing that gwen had been watching your interactions throughout the night, longing to be the one by your side. “enjoying the night, hannah montana?”

gwen, determined not to let harry's words affect her, initially brushed off his comment. however, his persistent needling proved too much to ignore. "wow, that was the funniest thing you've said yet! you deserve some applause for that one," she retorted sarcastically, her hands mockingly clapping for his attempt at humor.

he smirked watching her get riled up as he took it upon himself to stand next to gwen. he moved closer to her side, leaning in to speak softly into her ear. “sad to think that you thought you’d have the last word in this all, gwen. after this it’s off to college. you really messed up your chances. not even just with (y/n), but with me. we could’ve had something, but you only really care about yourself, huh?” he turned around fully, holding his two drinks ready to leave. “this is it. i have the last word.”

that was enough to do it for gwen.

gwen reached her breaking point. the music slowed down, the dj's announcement filling the air, urging everyone to bring their partners to the dance floor. the crowd surged, people jostling for space, with a few girls even approaching harry for a quick dance, eager to bask in his wealth and fuel his ego.

this was her time.

"hey, we need to talk," gwen said, her grip tight as she grabbed your arm. startled, you looked up at her, surprised to see her so close, determination evident in her eyes.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, allowing her to hurriedly guide you both outside, away from prying eyes and the bustling prom.

as you stepped into the open, the light drizzle that had fallen earlier transformed into a gentle rain shower. the lobby glistened with moisture, and a soft breeze rustled through the nearby trees. gwen's hand tightened around yours, helping you stay stable amidst the slippery ground.

"gwen," you called out, tone laced with concern, but she continued walking, leading you to a secluded spot beside the school lobby. "gwen, enough! you need to talk too," you exclaimed, feeling the urgency mounting within you.

she paused, her hand covering her face momentarily, trying to rein in her frustration. "i need to talk? you didn't even let me explain myself last time, and then i saw you here with him," gwen said, her words pouring out rapidly as she fought to control her emotions. "but that's not why i wanted to talk to you now. look, harry asked me to the prom, and i said no... because i had planned to ask you," she revealed.

your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and realization washing over you. you had suspected harry hadn't been entirely truthful, but the revelation that gwen had intended to ask you left you speechless.

"what?" you mouthed, struggling to find the right words. "so when you came to my house?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling.

"yes! i was going to ask you," gwen affirmed, feeling relief as you finally began to understand. "i love you, (y/n). you've been my best friend, but i've fallen in love with you. i've been losing sleep over it. you're always there for me, understanding in ways i've never experienced before, and it scares me. i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want to risk losing what we have. the thought of you saying no and jeopardizing our friendship stressed me out so much. i would have rather kept my feelings hidden if it meant i could still have you in my life. but now, i just want to face my fears and say, 'screw it,' because i meant every word that i told you when i went to see you. i don't want to be just your friend anymore, i want to be more."

a silence settled between you, interrupted only by the sound of raindrops cascading down gwen's jacket. tears welled up in your eyes as her words pierced through your heart.

"you like me?" you simply asked, your voice almost breaking.

"more than like," she chuckled softly, running a hand through her hair. "you have no idea."

slowly, you closed the distance between you, your fingers fidgeting with the corsage on your wrist. "i like you too, gwen. love, even," you confessed. "i felt so foolish, thinking there might be something between us. part of me believed it was all in my head, and then harry started messing with me, planting doubts that you would never be interested. it hit me hard, and that's why i went with him. i felt trapped, but i also wanted to see your reaction."

gwen's smile grew, and she gently placed her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you wanted to see if i'd get jealous?" she inquired, curiosity dancing in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.

"yeah, i guess... i felt this thing between us at times, and it made me overthink. i thought that maybe, if you saw me with someone else, you would speak up. and if you didn't, well, it would be a win-win because at least i'd still have a date," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have treated you like this. i just get overwhelmed and scared when i don't think things are gonna work out, so i just avoided it all outta fear."

"don't apologize. both of us got caught up in harry's stupid revenge scheme," gwen said softly, her thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

in the quietude that enveloped you both, you found yourselves staring into each other's eyes. the moonlight filtered through the dark night sky, casting a soft glow upon gwen's features. she looked effortlessly beautiful, her blue eyes sparkling, and her hair framing her face. up close, you noticed the delicate touch of makeup—a rosy red on her lips and smokey eyeshadow with a hint of blue.

before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips. it was too quick for her to kiss back.

her eyes widened in shock and you felt her gasp against your lips. with the unspoken tension broken, there was no more denying the feelings that had been building between the two of you.

suddenly, gwen’s lips crashed against yours as her hands moved to grip your waist and hold you close. she melted into you, a moan escaping her lips as she pressed herself

against you and kissed you hungrily. the electricity between the two of you surrounded you, a silent understanding passing between you that changed the dynamic of friendship was changed forever.

gwen parted her lips away from yours as they brushed up against each other in the small distance.

her eyes softened, her gaze searching yours. "you deserve better," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "and i want to be the one who shows you that."

her hands massaged up and down your torso gently as your arms found their way around her neck. “you are better,” you whispered to her.

it was like you and a magnetism to you that gwen couldn’t fight as your words encouraged her to kiss you again. it was like a switch was flipped inside gwen. she'd never experienced something so electrifying before. feeling your lips against hers was pure passion. her heart raced with excitement as she let herself be swept along in the moment. when your lips met hers and your mouths filled with the taste of the other, gwen felt there was no more room for hesitation now, and the two of you were lost in an incredible kiss that couldn't be stopped.

"you don't need this anymore," gwen's voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she reached for the corsage on your wrist, the one harry had given you. her eyes lingered on the delicate blooms, appreciating their beauty for a fleeting moment. then, in one swift motion, she tore the corsage clean off your hand, her grip firm and unwavering. the force with which she removed it almost stung. gwen flung it far behind you, casting it away.

gwen pushed you lightly into a nearby wall, her hand cupping the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt by the impact. she wanted nothing more than to feel you against her, to have your arms wrapped around her as you kissed her again and again. her heart was starting to beat in her chest, and you could feel her breathing quicken.

but still gazing intently into your eyes and keeping her lips inches from your own, gwen briefly backed away. "i think harry's an idiot," she purred, her tone dripping with confidence.

she pulled you close again, her body pressed against yours as if she was trying to collide with you. "he doesn't know anything about you. you're the most amazing, incredible, sweet, adorable..." she paused, her heart racing. "perfect."

a drop of water landed on her nose and slid down her face, causing her to giggle. her radiant smile illuminated the moment, casting a spell of enchantment.

the weight of her words settled upon you, leaving you blissfully captivated. "perfect?" you repeated.

“so perfect, you don’t even have to try,” she replied, her eyes softening as she sees how flustered you get.

gwen leaned in and nibbled your lower lip as she bit the bottom teasingly, just to see how you'd react. "mmm, " she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips against yours again. you felt her lick on your lower lip as she cocked her head to the side to deepen the kiss. your body trembled as gwen's tongue pressed into your mouth. her hands reached out and drew you closer as she gently slipped past your playful resistance and explored your mouth.

her eyelids drifted shut as your tongue stroked hers. this was heaven for her, and your moans were like music to her ears. she ran her hand through your hair, her fingers gently brushing against the back of your neck as she continued to kiss you deeply and passionately. you could feel her other hand running slowly down your back, her fingertips gently trailing your spine. her kisses grew more frantic, her breathing becoming more rapid. all she wanted was you.

gwen felt your cool, plush thighs clamp around her leg as she slid it up between yours through the opening in your dress. her hands slid down your body, one moving past your legs and coming to rest on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as she began to knead at your skin while the other put a firm hand on your hips. you winced at the sensation of her hand rubbing between your thighs as the opposite hand pushed you down onto her leg. in all the excitement, she had pushed herself closer, now grinding against you as she tried to find some sense of relief.

with the rain, the kiss became even sloppier. your mascara started to drip and streak, and you could feel it on your lashes. your and gwen's lipsticks ended up mixing and smearing up against each other as you were both kissing. gwen broke away from your mouth and started laying a trail of kisses down your jaw, leaving faint red lip prints in their wake. her red rose tinted lipstick was now much more faint and messy around her lips.

gwen lowered her mouth to your neck and began lightly sucking and nibbling. you almost went weak in the knees from the stimulating sensation caused by her lips leaving open mouth kisses on the surface of your skin that reached your collarbone and the curve of your breasts.

“(y/n)?” you heard a voice call.

shit, it was harry.

“(y/n), are you out here?” he called out once more.

gwen lifted herself off your neck and straightened herself as she glanced up at you with half-lidded eyes. peering from behind the wall that offered a semblance of concealment, you saw harry discovering the discarded corsage gwen had ripped off your wrist. he knelt down, his gaze fixated on it.

gwen's eyes met yours, a mischievous glint dancing within them. despite your scolding look, she leaned closer to you, undeterred by the risk of being overheard.

"he's going to hear us, gwen," you warned, aware of the potential consequences.

"so?" she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice. "unless you care, because i don't. let him hear."

her audacity caught you off guard, your face flushing as she returned to your neck, this time biting down hard on your skin as you felt the blood rush to the concentrated spots. you were sure they were gonna bruise and turn purple later.

“gwen!” you gasped loud, quickly covering your mouth to muffle her name. she went on, and her unexpected senses caught you off guard.

you made every effort to make sure you weren't too loud for harry to hear, but it was difficult to keep your whines under control.

but gwen knew. when he heard mysterious noises, noticed your discarded corsage, and realized he hadn't seen her go back inside, gwen knew he was aware based on the way she noticed in the corner of her eye how his face twisted. he ultimately stood up and turned around as he headed back inside.

with a soft pop, gwen pulled away from your neck. she stared attentively at you as you were breathing heavily against the wall. it was a gaze that held the power to captivate, like a masterful musician surveying their latest composition. in that moment, you felt like a canvas, waiting to be explored and transformed by her artistic touch.

“perfect and beautiful,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. “i’ve wanted to do that for so long- not the makeout and hickey thing. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i enjoyed it even if it moved a little fast but uh… the kiss part. i wanted to kiss you for a while to see how it felt.”

even though gwen was touching you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear with complete confidence, you grinned at how nervous she had become. wrapping your arms around yourself, you shivered slightly, the rain casting a chill upon you.

“you’re cold? hold on,” gwen's concern was immediate as she swiftly removed her leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “here, much better than getting hypothermia.”

you chuckled at her teasing as you felt her cheeks heat up. "thank you," you whispered, hugging her briefly.

she smiled down at you, admiring how you looked in her clothes. "no need to thank me. you look stunning in it," she complimented, a mischievous smirk gracing her lips.

as you emerged from your hiding place, she seized your hand.

“what do we do now?” you asked her.

gwen turned to you, a rebellious glint in her eye. “well, i’m over this prom thing,” she admitted as she pulled you closer, her hand releasing from yours to wrap her arm around your waist and hold you snugly against her side. “wanna get outta here?” she asked.

a smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "yes, let's do it," you replied.

just as you both contemplate your next move, your phone vibrates, signaling a new message.

“don’t tell me it’s him,” she groaned as you nodded, confirming her suspicion.

she extended her hand, silently requesting your phone. "can i?" she asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

handing her your phone, you watched as gwen opened the camera app and positioned it in front of both of you. "smile!" she declared, capturing the moment with a click. the picture was you smiling as gwen held you jaw gently, planting a kiss on your cheek.

with the photo now saved on your phone, gwen's mischievous side took over. she swiftly navigated through your messages until she found harry's name. grinning devilishly, she selected his contact and attached the newly taken photo.

"just gonna let him know you won’t be coming back," gwen remarked, her voice full of wicked delight. without hesitation, she composed a short message to accompany the photo, her fingers dancing across the screen.

harry : (y/n) where did you go? you missing out sent at 8:53

you : hey harry, it’s gwen. she’s a little busy right now.

you : me and (y/n) are kinda over this prom night so we decided to do our own thing so i promise you we won’t be missing much. hope you enjoy the photo tho!! sent at 9:00

"there you go," gwen told you as she giggled to herself. "let's see how he likes that."

‘it feels good to be petty’ she thought, handing your phone back. the sky stretched out above, an expanse of darkness that seemed to swallow the world below. it was a canvas painted in shades of ebony and indigo, adorned with the twinkling jewels of distant stars. the rain had dampened her hair, causing it to cling to her forehead in an alluring fashion.

“so, my place? i have food,” she suggests, a smirk forming at the corners of her mouth.

you laughed at how casual it was. you two, ready to go to prom and dressed up, would now rather just go to her house and eat whatever leftovers she had to offer.

"wow, how fancy," you jested, your tone filled with playful sarcasm. "please, take me anywhere but here."

together, you left, leaving behind the glitz and glamor of prom and harry’s drama to finally have the night you and gwen deserved. as you stepped away from the whirlwind of glittering lights and laughter, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you in her presence. for just an instant, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. although you had fully anticipated having the most miserable prom and an even worst summer, you were now fully content. you had gwen, and that was all you could ask her.

she was just glad she could steal you back faster than he took you.

A/N: it’s finally here….😽😽

© 2023 primaviva

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal! 

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k 

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug. 

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.” 

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked. 

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.” 

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically. 

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?” 

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you. 

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked. 

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove. 

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.” 

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject. 

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.” 

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked. 

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him. 

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands. 

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you. 

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks. 

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous? 

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper. 

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead. 

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain. 

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs. 

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria. 

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off. 

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes. 

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia. 

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless. 

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron. 

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody. 

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

 Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it. 

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him. 

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario. 

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery.  He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.” 

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully. 

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head. 

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep. 

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck. 

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” 

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.” 

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?” 

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him. 

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury. 

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.” 

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you. 

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes. 

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts. 

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him. 

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him. 

“Noted.” 

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.” 

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.” 

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[leafcabbage]

Hello Mx. Cabbage, I just finished your fic after 3 days of constant reading after finishing my AP Physics homework. So I must know, Leafy (woah look at us first name basis), wtf is Purpled's deal. I must know everything about Purpled. Purpled in particular. I would like an entire fic. Particularly explaining Purpled's relationship with Punz. Thank you for the wonderful fic, but you must now explain your dubious characters. Thank you author leafcabbage, have a good day.

damn... ap physics... could not be me hope thats going well for you! i am very very sorry to tell you this but purpled does not have a largely fleshed out backstory yet. he's gonna have a somewhat larger role in one of the future fics (if all goes to plan) but his presence very much started as a joke so i have minimal answers for you. i CAN give you some stuff with punz though :]

(under the cut)

-he's from the new england area -he's very dedicated and smart and did not have a lot of friends in high school because he came across as a know-it-all (...he kind of was) -his mom died when he was like 12 -his dad got remarried like two years later and purpled never got along with his step family. his dad was always really into the whole having "perfect family time" and purpled did not want that. he was the odd one out. -he did one of those summer programs for high schoolers at SPU summer before senior year of high school and punz happened to be taking a summer course -(purpled did the summer thing because his mom went to SPU and he wanted to because she did but had to make sure it was like... actually an option) -purpled was kind of bored with it because he'd expected more than he got and would explore campus every chance he got because he didn't really make any friends there -he just happened to run into punz in the library and asked about his textbook because that actually looked interesting and they ended up talking long enough that purpled got in trouble for not going back to the dorms when he was supposed to -purpled started coming to find punz at the library during the same time every day. it wasn't luck that punz was there, he really didn't need to be at the library that much, but he thought purpled was a good kid who obviously was actually interested in learning -punz was the one that made purpled really decide to go to spu because he told purpled about his actual experiences rather than the shit they tell you at tours and stuff -they exchanged contact information before purpled went home and kept in contact, very much building an brother-y dynamic -punz was someone who actually cared about what purpled said and his accomplishments and surprise surprise purpled liked spending time with punz more than his family -punz actually came to purpled's graduation!! he was the only one there for purpled. -punz is why purpled ran for student gov. when punz graduates purpled will run for board treasurer to take his place. -purpled now spends a lot of his time at punz's apartment both for schoolwork help and because he finally gets to actually live with family -purpled has an invite to any holiday gathering of punz's friends now who have their own found family shit going on. purpled fits right in :]

[poptod]

induratize (Kenny Al-Bahir x Reader)

Description: Induratize (v.) - to amek one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's please or advances, or to the idea of love

Notes: I dislike this immensely and I feel embarrassed posting it but I mean... we’re lacking in Kenny fics and every bit counts lmao. Implied male reader.  Word Count: 1.5k

In your world, there are certain things you don't understand but have to accept. There are things like that in every person's life, but you're a little too caught up in your own, centered around the school you go to and the home you can't bear. Not that there's any specific reason you dislike your home or your parents – just general teenage angst. It's handy to blame your problems on hormones, but there are adults like you too; adults who refuse to love, who can't open their hearts, who grow sick at the thought of loving others. You know it's unhealthy. You know something has to change, because it isn't like you've never felt love before – only that you've decided no one is truly worth the time and heartbreak.

A closeted, homosexual high schooler in 2005 – what a wonderful thing to be, what a wonderful reason to hate yourself. What a wonderful reason to distance yourself from your classmates, what a wonderful excuse to ignore your teachers. But you know the difference between solitude and being anti-social, a line you cross very easily, though you manage to stay on top of your grades and such.

You've got your life figured out, or at least the life you will have to live for the next couple of years. Stay quiet, stay under the radar, don't make friends, don't spill secrets, listen intently, and most of all stay safe. There's only one problem with all of this:

There is an insanely attractive person trying to get your attention.

Not just any attention, either �� romantic attention, and you can tell by his quickened heartbeat when you accidentally touch upon his pulse point, his dilated eyes, his mouth parted ever so slightly in awe of you. You're nothing special, you know that, but you're not willing to debate why this boy likes you. The only thing you're willing to do is try and get rid of him.

During lunch times you try to find the oddest, most secluded spot you can so no one can find you. Usually it works well, and every now and then you go off to find a new spot – this time it's inside one of the trees on campus, far off on the other side of the school's massive lawn for football and soccer practice. Sitting underneath it would've been too conspicuous, so you climbed high into it's branches, and began quietly eating.

Nearer to the school building itself, kids swarm around in all different heights and colors, like a massive swath of bees that don't quite belong to the beehive but can't survive anywhere else. It's a stupid analogy you think, but not entirely incorrect. However there's one distant form that grows steadily larger and clearer, and as a sinking feeling develops in your chest, you realize that maybe sitting in a tree isn't as inconspicuous as you originally thought. It's that boy who keeps trying to talk to you, and his hair looks recently cut. He looks a lot better than he did before.

"Hey," he says, a simple start to what you know is going to be a grueling conversation, at least for you. His voice wavers when you meet his eye, something you're sure is an anxious habit.

You don't respond.

"What are you, um, doing up there?"

"Eating," you reply in a muffled voice, talking around a purposefully large bite of sandwich.

"Can I join you?" He asks, much more straightforward than you thought him capable of. In the one class you have with him, he's rather squirrelly, but you admire the courage he's plucked up. So instead of saying no you say nothing, and wait for him to draw his own conclusions. 

It takes him a little while, but he manages to get to where you sit, the thick tree branches easily supporting his weight next to you. As he gets comfortable you note his heavy breathing, and watch with careful eyes as he takes off his coat. He has muscles. How did you never notice that before?

He takes a deep sigh and closes his eyes, tilting his head up to the sky. It's then you notice the discoloration along his jawline, a clear bruise against his tawny oak skin, and a cut across his cheekbone. Curiosity overcomes you, and for the first time in a good long while you say the first sentence.

"What happened to you?"

Impersonal enough, you think – it isn't like you asked him if he's alright, though it is sort of implied... when he turns to you with surprise, you can feel regret bubbling in your stomach.

"I, um, got into a fight," he says quietly, scratching sheepishly at the back of his neck. You raise a single eyebrow. He's not the type to get into fights. "Alright, fine," he says. "I.. got beat up, just a little bit. You should see the other guy."

What a cheesy joke, you think, but he smiles gingerly and every thought in your head blips out of existence.

"Oh, my name's Kenny," he says suddenly, holding his hand out for you to shake. He's overly polite, but you know your manners as well, and you take his hand to greet.

"I thought so," you say in reply, recalling the few times his name was hinted at you. "I'm (Y/N)."

"You're in my science class, right?"

"AP Biology, second period, Mrs. Holsten," you say.

"Right. She assigns a lot of homework," he comments thoughtlessly, something you know is a desperate attempt to fill any silence that could appear.

"Sometimes," you agree.

"I just.. it takes me forever, 'cause I usually have to help Larry finish his as well. He's in that class too."

"Who's Larry?" You ask slowly, wanting nothing more than to crawl up into a ball and roll away. This is far too close to 'getting to know someone' than you're comfortable with.

"Oh, sorry, he – he's one of my friends," he says as though he has other friends.

You hum in response, directing your attention back at your lunch. Kenny, however, feels very differently, and makes several more attempts to keep conversation going. For the most part you don't pay attention, catching only snippets of the subjects he's talking about – even though you despise talking with people, you can't deny he has a very nice voice, and you (unfortunately) enjoy listening to him.

"– yeah, but no matter if the rumors are true or not, they're still bad to spread around, you know? Like, there's rumors about me, and –"

"What rumors?" You interrupt him, turning to face him.

"Oh, um... some people think I'm gay," he laughs, and it's a horrible fake laugh, "which of course isn't true."

You're so tempted, so, so tempted to say point blank that you're gay, to ask what's wrong with being gay, but you don't. Thank God.

"Interesting," is what you settle on, staring at him and nodding like you're spacing out which, to be fair, isn't entirely untrue.

Kenny seems kind enough – he's practically spilled his entire life story over the course of the fifteen minutes you've been together, and you have little reason to distrust him. That being said, your distrust of humanity is still rooted deep inside you, and you doubt a single man could demolish that. But looking at him, watching the way he bites subconsciously at his lips, the way his eyelids flutter open and closed and the long lashes that line his grey eyes – you want to toy with this boy. It's probably just your gay thoughts irritating you again, but God he looks like a good target, and he's just so damn pretty.

So you give in.

"Has anyone told you yet that you're pretty?" You ask, pretending it's a normal and casual thing to ask. As expected, Kenny flusters and stammers, falling over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence.

"I, uh – I'm not, I uh.. I don't think I – not.. um, there's not – I mean –"

You decide to spare him from further embarrassment, which he greatly appreciates (even if he doesn't say anything).

"I'm assuming that's a no, then," you say, to which he quickly agrees with a nod of his head. "That's a shame. I hope that changes."

Your saving grace – the bell rings from across the large field, and tucking away your containers into your too-large pockets, you hop easily down the tree, followed by a much more nervous Kenny. Reaching your hands up to him, you help him down the last branch, landing him safely on his feet.

"There you are," you mutter as he brushes himself off. "Any scratches?"

"I, um, don't think so," he says quietly, his breath halting when you brush a hand down his chest, ridding his shirt of a couple of bits of bark.

"Get some ice on that cut and bruise," you say, patting his shoulder and turning to leave.

After a moment you can hear his footsteps chasing after you, and it isn't long at all till the two of you are walking together, on your way to your separate classes.

"A lot of people think you're rude," he says out of nowhere. You shrug.

"That's on them," you chuckle, and he easily agrees.

"I think you're kinda nice."

"... thanks."

It's the first time anyone your age has complimented you. Maybe talking to people isn't as horrible as you thought.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

This Too Shall Last 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is based off of @dumb-bitch-starker‘s post that you can find here! I saw it and had to try my hand at it. I’ve got some personal experience with marriage young, so it was a fun one!  Warnings: NSFW stuff - lots of fluff, be ready!  Summary: 

Peter Parker is from a small town in rural Virginia. After winning the National Spelling Bee, he's given the opportunity to go to an advanced private school. Midtown is where he meets Tony Stark, a brown haired boy with an affinity of beating him to the punch. They grow up together and find that what they were looking for wasn't all that far away. This is the story of how these two move from friends to boyfriends to husbands.

Or, the one where Peter Parker is a genius and has an epic friendship turned romance with Tony Stark.

Read it on AO3 here

For Peter, being smart was his foot in the door to a world that for the longest time, he could only imagine. In the town he lived in with is Aunt, there was one school that catered to all of the grades, K-12. There were two stop lights and a singular gas station nestled in the heart of town. Aside from a handful of transplants, most of the town’s population consisted of long lines of families and those that were establishing them. May still had her mail delivered to her by the same man from her later childhood.

All and all – getting out of that place was the only option and luckily – Peter was blessed with the means to do it.

After winning the National Spelling Bee at the young age of 6, Peter got several scholarship offers for some of the private schools around the Virginia area. It would have been nice to actually get away from his little town and go to one of the more prestigious ones – but May needed him around and could only truly afford to see him go 45 minutes away instead of the several hours some of the other schools offered.

Midtown Private catered to the rich of the Virginia Beach area – Peter understood that immediately. Even as a young kid, he realized that his old backpack and battered shoes were something completely different compared to the people around him. It didn’t take a genius (even though he was,) to catch onto the fact that everyone else had drivers drop them off – he watched them file out of their pretty cars from the bus stop every morning. There wasn’t much to be done, though – the opportunity was there, and he planned to take it.

Despite all of the differences between him and the rest of the student population, Peter excelled. After a few days in his second-grade class, it was obvious that the people around him were also of another caliber in the classroom. In his old school, he spent most of his days completely bored. Since the first day at Midtown, Peter felt challenged – his brain finally stretched the way it needed to be. His classmates were able and more than willing to participate in the classroom. A brown-haired boy with quick hands beat him to the punch a lot of the time – but he didn’t mind, there was something to be said about someone just as interested in the information.

At the end of his first week, Peter found out who the brown-haired boy was. His eyes were still wide from the initial shock of walking into a lab that he could fit his entire house into. There were so many different tools and instruments he’d never seen before – things that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. It looked like a scene out of some of his favorite science fiction movies that played late at night. He sat down at the closest cluster of chairs and looked around with marvel.

The chair at the desk next to him moving on the floor brought him out of his excitement induced trance – he cracked a smile when the brown-haired boy sat down. “You’re the new kid, right?” he asked – the question rattled off without an ounce of hesitation. There weren’t many kids his age that behaved that way; his difficulty making friends stemmed from a lot of things and that was one of them. Tilting his head, Peter took him in for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m Peter,” he finally replied, his body shifting slightly in the seat to see the other kid a little more clearly.

They met eyes for the first time then, the brown of the other’s eyes reminding him the color of milk chocolate melting on the stove. For some reason, that made him feel a little calmer – the hue reminding him so much of fondue night with May.

The kid was smiling at him, his hands flipping open the folder he pulled out of his bag. “Hi. My mom makes me introduce myself as Anthony – but that name is stupid, so just call me Tony.” While he spoke, he slipped a worksheet in front of Peter.

“Do you like science like you like math?” Tony asked him, his eyes looking at the sheet briefly, then straying back in Peter’s direction. It felt weird, having someone understand his likes without evening knowing him – Tony pinpointed him just by observing. He wondered, not for the last time in his life, just what else Tony effortlessly observed about him.

Glancing down at the paper, his eyes lit up when he recognized the microscope on it. Just last Christmas, he got a small lab set that came with beakers and a microscope – he spent hours taking it apart and putting it back together for many weeks after that. The reading level of what he was looking at surpassed even what a class like this would provide for them – so he was immediately excited.

“I love science. I’m going to go to space one day,” Peter muttered, his eyes still looking over the paper in front of him. He wondered where Tony got it – the board at the front of the room said they were looking at the different types of rocks and there wasn’t an accessible microscope in sight. “This is a light microscope, right? What are you looking at with it?” He finally pulled himself away from the difficult information, his brain on fire.

He couldn’t tell if Tony was on the verge of excitement or blowing up at him, the look on his face a little unreadable. “You want to go to space? I want to build rockets. I’ve been trying to read through a book about Apollo 13 – but that words are kind of hard.” He shrugged then, his hand reaching over to take the sheet back from Peter’s desk.

“I don’t know what I’m going to look at yet – my dad said I needed to learn more about it before I could touch his expensive equipment.” Tony made the infamous air quotes and rolled his eyes – the look on his face making Peter laugh.

“My aunt says stuff like that, too. She bought me a starter lab kit last year for Christmas – and I’m terrified to break it. I may never get anything cool ever again, if I do.” He crinkled his nose, the thought making his brain hurt a little. “I’ve taken the microscope in it apart and put it back together a bunch of times – I can help you, if you want,” Peter added in after a second, his eagerness in the suggestion apparent.

Tony took a second to answer back – his cheeks were turned up in a smile, but he stayed silent, regardless. “Okay,” he said simply, a soft look on his face. “Sit with me at lunch – I want you to tell me more about this lab kit.”

That day was forever engrained in Peter’s head – he later came to find out that Tony, who was Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, the frontrunner in plane, boat, and submarine technology and construction – was the smartest and most sought after friend in the entire school. People did not talk to him for weeks after they sat together that first day at lunch. It was laughable that something as silly as that was the thing that made him an outsider.

For years, Peter ran in the same circle as Tony in a lot of ways. From that fateful day in science on, Tony sought Peter out as a lab partner. Even being in a school where everything was advanced, both boys were more than capable of bigger things. Tony invited Peter to his dad’s lab every now and again – despite how much May hated having to drop him off at the fancy gate whenever he went.

After proving his worth and commitment to thorough research and a safe approach, Tony got access to a lot of cool things; a few of these things he shared with Peter. Between third and sixth-grade, Peter and Tony built a different (and progressively more advanced) robot each year for the science fair. Being friendly with someone like Tony was like being shown a different world; both the boy’s personality and background contributed to that, too. He learned something new about the boy every instance they spent any time together.

Middle brought the ability to do extracurricular activities – an opportunity in which Peter took complete advantage of. Enjoying the robot building process so much, Tony convinced him to join the Robotics team. He also found himself recruited to the track and field team after a startlingly fast mile during physical fitness week. Both activities were so much more than he ever thought imaginable for himself – so he went above and beyond to be amazing at them.

Running came naturally to him, he quickly came to find out. All of his middle school years were spent going to conference, regional, and national meets. The year before entering into high school, Peter broke the 1500-meter record and won a middle school national championship. Walking onto a new campus the next year, Peter found himself embraced by the teammates he had previously and the new ones he gained – not for the first time, he felt surprised by the odd dynamic of the people he luckily found himself surrounded by.

The opportunity to get ahead in college came around his junior year. He took all of the AP science classes and passed with ease, so there wasn’t much left in his high school to take – a select few that were of similar academic standing were cleared to take dual enrollment classes that would count as college credit. There were tons of science he was going to need in college, the ability to knock out a few of them was too hard to pass up.

He barely made it to the early college campus before his first class started late one September – the bus was running behind again and had been all week. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Peter took a seat towards the back of the class – the person next to him none other than Tony Stark. “I thought I’d see you here,” Tony mumbled towards him as he settled in, the now very, very, very handsome boy’s cheeks curling up into a grin. “Did you have to run to get here?

Looking around for a second, Peter noticed there wasn’t much happening – the front of the class empty, no professor in sight. “From the bus stop, yes. The earlier buses always run a little late,” he explained, his chest finally relaxing, the tightness ceasing now that he wasn’t running at full speed, anymore. It felt good to sit down after that.

“That’s no bueno, Pete – I need my lab partner fresh and on his toes. You can ride with me,” Tony stated, his voice definitive, the tone just barely shy of being bossy. “We’re both going to the same place – I don’t mind.” He finished his words with a smile, the look enough to make him laugh a little.

There wasn’t any reason not to accept the offer – the thought of not having to take the bus four times every day sounded pretty dang good. “Okay – if you really don’t mind.” Peter reached across and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, his fingers tightening. “Thanks, Tony,” he murmured, his eyes alight.

Tony tilted his head a little, brown eyes watching Peter closely for a second before he nodded – his eyebrows arching. “I really don’t mind. You’re welcome, Pete.” As he spoke, the door opened and the professor walked in, everyone in the class straightening up – the authority of the person at the front of the class still respected at their age.

For the rest of the day, Peter didn’t think too much about Tony or his offer, there were too many interesting things being thrown his way. It wasn’t until they finished their Biochemistry lab that Peter even remembered the offer. Tony caught up to him out in the hallway, his glasses slipping down his nose a little when he stopped in front of Peter. “You don’t have practice until later, right? Want to study for a bit? I’ll take you back when we’re finished. That lab report could use a little work before we turn it in tomorrow,” Tony spoke with such confidence, the quirk in his lips natural looking, not forced like it might’ve been on Peter himself.

The glance down at his wrist was unnecessary, without looking at his watch, he knew it was pushing 2. He wouldn’t need to be back to the high school until 4:30 and with a ride, he didn’t have to worry about catching the bus. “That sounds okay to me – I think I finally figured out how to do the last problem set,” Peter replied, his thumbs slipping under the straps of his backpack. “I think I saw some good reference books when I was in the library yesterday. Let’s head that way.”

That afternoon started a chain reaction of studying together every day after class, the two of them nose deep in books until Peter’s alarm went off. The first couple of times it happened, the dirty looks were numerous – then they got smart about it. Since they were in the early college program, classes ended at the same time every day – so, they rented out a study room and spent the two hours in there, instead. The whiteboards were good for everything they were trying to accomplish, anyway.

One afternoon about halfway through the semester, Peter walked out of his last period lecture hall completely done in. Practice the day before kicked his butt and they were running low on food in the house. He snuck in a granola bar earlier – and his metabolism demolished it before he could even think about being at least somewhat satisfied. School breakfast that morning ran out a earlier than usual, so he was feeling it.

When Tony stepped up to his side a couple of minutes later, Peter looked at him blankly. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to study today, Tony – I’m exhausted. And starving. Mostly starving, honestly,” Peter babbled, his right hand settling on his stomach – he hoped if he got there fast enough, the growl wouldn’t sound between them.

Peter rolled his eyes when they both heard the gurgle – a spot of red pressing into both of his cheeks almost instantly. He pressed against his stomach a little more firmly then, his thoughts willing the damn thing to shut the hell up. Chancing a glance up, Peter was surprised to see empathy in Tony’s eyes. Despite knowing him relatively well, there was no real way of anticipating how the boy would react – Tony worked on a scale of differing levels of sarcasm. He figured it would take the rest of his life to truly understand the rules to Tony’s game – but it felt good to see the other at least respond positively to his insignificant troubles.

“We’re so caught up on everything, Pete – I’m sure the library can do without us for the day. Do you want to go grab some food? There’s this place, Chester’s, they make the best burgers.” Tony spoke while he fidgeted with his hands, his body much like his mind – always moving, never quite satisfied.

At the mention of food, Peter’s stomach growled again, his mouth watering, too. There were a few dollars in his pocket, the idea of using it to afford food sounded like an excellent one. He nodded his head excitedly, eyes bulging a little. “Yes, that would be amazing. I’d eat your shoe if you seasoned it right. A burger sounds delicious,” Peter agreed, his feet already antsy to start moving towards the door and closer to the food.

It took a little while to get used to driving around in Tony’s fancy car. The contrast to May’s broken-down Chevy made his stomach churn a bit – but on the other hand, he got a little excited about it, too. The black Audi drove like a dream and had an engine that could easily become something too fast for its own good. The inner console was completely touchscreen and the family AI, FRIDAY, could be reached with the controls. One day he expected to walk out to a car that would drive itself.

Settling into the passenger seat, Peter felt better than he did all day and tried not to think too hard about that. In the past couple of months, Peter’s feelings about Tony went from neutral to completely over the hill for him. It wasn’t hard to feel that way about the other, though – Peter knew that from being in school with him so long.

Girls and boys alike would trip over their feet to get his attention. Yet, no one managed to catch it. Tony kept to himself for as long as Peter could remember – no matter how much people wanted him, he didn’t budge. Now that he was starting to feel the same way about the other boy, his stomach felt a little funny – like a weird mixture between giving a speech and watching Batman on TV.

There wasn’t any hope for his silly feelings to be returned, Peter knew that. He couldn’t claim to be a genius without understanding the reality of the situation in front of him. Even still, Peter was unable to keep a lid on it and found himself smiling over at Tony more in the last three weeks than in their entire existence together. Not for the first time, Peter wondered if Tony knew – his friend was too smart not to.

The drive was pretty easy – there wasn’t much traffic at that time of the day, so they were skating down the highway in Tony’s beautiful car in no time. He fiddled with the screen for a while before The Used started to play – the throwback making Peter laugh outright.

“I never pegged you for a 2000’s emo fan,” Peter said through the chuckle, his brain already supplying the lyrics to the song, regardless of his own taunt. Lots of things happened in the early days of Peter’s life – he found a weird kinship with the early 00’s songwriters; their grief and pain were tangible, and he liked that.

Peter watched Tony drum on the steering wheel with one of his hands, the other loosening and clenching with the beat. It was easy to tell that Tony was not a stranger to this type of music – the chorus of Bird and the Worm started and they both broke out singing it, their voices surprisingly meshing together pretty well. “I’m full of surprises, Peter Parker. I also happen to like old rock, too. What do you have to say about that?” Sarcasm dripped from the words, each one settling in the pit of Peter’s stomach – each one making that little flame of want grow the slightest bit bigger.

Catching himself smiling, Peter turned his face towards the window, the cityscape of Virginia Beach flying by them. “I think that’s okay by me. I kind of like surprises. Makes life a little more interesting. I don’t like tomatoes – I’m sure that comes as a great surprise to you,” Peter retorted, his own joke pulling a chuckle from his lips.

Tony shook his head, eyes breaking from the road to glance in Peter’s direction. “Something tells me there’s a lot more to you than just not liking tomatoes. For instance – you can run a 1500-meter race in under 4 minutes. Now that, my friend, is very surprising. I probably couldn’t even make it around the track once in 4 minutes.” Tony joined him in laughter then, the self-depreciative statement nowhere near the truth – Peter could see the obvious signs of that in the way his bicep bulged when he turned the wheel.

“It’s always a surprise to me, too. The last lap, I’m always just running on pure instinct, adrenaline, and dopamine. I didn’t know you knew that, though. We’ve never really talked about it before,” Peter realized, his thoughts manifesting in the words slipping from his mouth. Over the years, they spent so much time together and never broached the layers beneath the surface. Peter felt compelled to change that, even if it was for his own sick pleasure of knowing more about Tony, of having little pieces of him that not a lot of people get access to.

“I like statistics. Me and a couple of the guys from robotics got together to watch last year – it was cool to see the variance in all of our time guesses. You’re talented, Pete. That’s pretty hard to miss.” Tony shrugged then, his hands returning to their incessant drumming on the steering wheel.

Peter was glad for Tony’s shift in attention – the pink color on his cheeks already embarrassing without getting caught out by the boy he wanted to impress. Despite the roaring redness in his face, Peter wrapped himself in the knowledge that Tony noticed him and let the hum of his feelings crank up just a little bit louder.

That first burger stop led to a change in their routine – instead of hitting up the library, they camped out at a table in the corner of Chester’s dining room and studied. At least, it started out as studying. The topics progressively moved from Biochemistry to track and field – then even further past that into a much more personal territory. Peter learned that Tony’s parents weren’t ever around and when they were, he was avoided at all costs. In turn, Peter told Tony about his parents and uncle Ben – about the travesty of the start of his life and the small town he couldn’t wait to get away from.

He figured out pretty quickly how good it felt to simply talk to someone, especially a someone that seemed to understand more than anyone else Peter could remember encountering. Tony listened so intently, like Peter’s words were ones he needed to absorb and digest. Peter felt heard, the feeling so novel that he almost didn’t understand it – that burning sensation of actually being acknowledged. The similar look in Tony’s eyes when Peter gave him the same attention clued him in, though – the boy across from him seemed just as eager to have a pillar to lean on.

And interestingly enough, he chose Peter for the position.

A couple of days before finals week, Tony and Peter were in their normal booth at Chester’s – their shoulders pressed together to look at the textbook between them. The ringing of Peter’s phone shattered the peace of their study sanctuary – he let out a soft sigh at the break in concentration. Answering it swiftly, Peter was surprised to hear the Stanford Track & Field team coach on the other side of the line. After listening intently, Peter dropped the phone back to the table – his chest alight from the news he just received.

“That was Mike Eskind from Stanford – they want to bring me out to campus for a visit when next semester starts.” Peter looked up to catch the tail end of Tony’s huge smile – the look making his guts churn with that all too familiar heat. Shaking his head of the thought, he beamed back – their eyes locking.

“Holy shit, Pete!” Tony exclaimed, his voice the loudest pitch Peter heard him use all day. The boy jumped out of his chair – their gazes still connected. Peter followed suit without much hesitation, his entire body thrummed with excitement and pent up energy. Tony threw his arms around his hips and pulled him close – the throb of the other’s joy enough to make Peter suck in a breath, his own arms wrapping around Tony’s to join in on the embrace.

It felt right – being wrapped up in Tony’s arms. They were solid and warm, the presence of them on Peter’s hip grounding him, keeping him in the moment – the one where he got some of the greatest news of his life. He felt Tony’s head turn a little bit, his breath now gusting against the length of his neck. “Congrats,” Tony mumbled into the skin there.

Pulling back, Peter felt his grin widen, their arms not leaving each other. In the years to come, he wouldn’t be able to say who leaned in first – but all of the sudden, they were kissing. Tony’s lips were warm like the rest of him, the fullness of them pressing elegantly against Peter’s.

The initial kiss was soft, the chasteness of it a little like taking the first sip of a drink to test the flavor. Peter knew in that instant that nothing else would be as good as this – the smooth taste of Dr. Pepper, french fries, and a thing that he could only describe as Tony. It was intoxicating and enough to realize just how fucked he really was.

They inhabited the same space for another couple of moments, then Tony pulled away – one of his hands moving from Peter’s hip to cup his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” Tony whispered, his forehead tilting forward to rest against Peter’s. “Forever,” he mumbled again – the singular fact that they were in the middle of a public restaurant not registering to either of them. Peter closed his eyes and let himself relax into the embrace.

“Me too,” Peter replied after a while, his eyes opening for a brief second before Tony leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. The thought that maybe this might be a thing from now on made his heart skip and his head tilt a little further to the side, deepening the kiss.

Later that night, Peter thought so much about that kiss – about how utterly perfect the first one he ever got was – how, out of all the people in the world, Tony chose him to be on the receiving end of his affection. After getting to know the boy, Peter understood just how big of a thing that was – he didn’t get any in his home life, it made total sense that being able to give it wasn’t the easiest thing. Yet, it seemed to be earlier that day, the memory of Tony’s lips still ghosting across his own.

----

Finishing out the semester with all A’s, some college credit, and a boyfriend still felt surprising – even two months later when he slid into Tony’s car bright and early in the morning. This new ritual of theirs started when winter break ended, and their high school classes started back up. Since they didn’t have any early college stuff until the middle of January, both boys were free to do what they wanted after 11 every morning. Peter didn’t have any commitments until track practice at the end of the day, so they capitalized on it. His lips were so chapped by the end of the three weeks of freedom they had, and the boys were closer than ever.

He still didn’t understand why Tony wanted to drive 45 minutes in both directions to come and get him – but he wasn’t going to complain. Not having to sit on the bus so early in the morning was a beautiful thing, and all the extra time he got to spend with Tony was even better. Sometimes they were early enough to stop off and get some breakfast – and sometimes they skipped the McDonald’s and took advantage of the extra time; Tony’s back seat felt like a second home after so much time in it.

Though they were always all over each other, things hadn’t escaladed between them. Peter knew the feel of Tony’s cock through the tightness of his jeans – he knew the face Tony made when he came in his pants, but that was the extent of it. For a while, Peter worried that Tony would be mad at him for keeping things low level between them. The emotional feelings he felt for the other boy were so strong – he could only imagine what adding more to the physical sense of those feelings would be like.

With the thought in mind that junior year was the most important and the hardest, Peter and Tony kept their hands to themselves more or less and merely enjoyed being in each other’s company. When they weren’t making out in the back of Tony’s car, they studied at Chester’s or in the library, and spent time with May.

She initially wasn’t on board with the whole relationship when Peter first told her about it – then Tony came to the house for dinner and charmed her pants off. The deal was pretty much sealed after that. Tony seemed to enjoy the family aspect of being with her, and Peter enjoyed the look of happiness on his face too much to deprive him.

Peter thought that track season would put a damper on things between them, but it only seemed to strengthen their bond. Tony didn’t have anything other than robotics going on after school and they were currently on a break until championships at the end of the year – so he came to all of Peter’s meets. By the middle of the season, Peter’s teammates recognized Tony and May as his cheering section – and when things got really intense, many of them would join the pair in cheering Peter on. This was his year and the closer he got to it, the more Tony being there meant – the fact that the other cared about him enough to stand in the hot sun and rainy days was motivation and pushed him harder than he ever thought imaginable.

Winning nationals that year felt so sweet – his entire season was more than amazing and a lot of it had to do with all of the love and support he felt on a constant basis. So, it was easy to finally let Tony have the little bit of love they hadn’t experienced with each other yet. It seemed like the perfect celebration for an achievement that most people couldn’t even fathom – let alone achieve three times. The look of pride on Tony’s face made the decision pretty simple. Not even May looked at him like that – like he was the most prized trophy in the world and that Tony was the true winner here, not Peter.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as he initially thought it might be. Tony spent a long time prepping him – the view of the boy with sweat on his brow and a look of pure concentration on his face something Peter didn’t ever want to forget. He came more than once throughout the process and when Tony did finally press inside of him, the burn of the stretch felt like the lactic acid build up at the end of a race – something he could easily push through. Watching Tony fall apart above him was almost as good as the rush of intense pleasure when his boyfriend finally found his pleasure center deep within. The utterance of his name never sounded sweeter than when Tony gasped it in the throes of pleasure – his lips finding Peter’s as he rode through it.

Slumping together on the hotel bed after they were done, Peter relaxed into Tony’s arms – the other’s soft hands ran over his hair, lips pressing against his neck every couple of seconds. “I love you, Peter Parker. I love you and I’m so proud of you. So proud, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his lips against salty skin disguising some of the words – but Peter heard enough. His heart picked up its pace, the organ not used to this sort of rush. He loved Tony – that much was obvious to everyone that got to see them together. Never in a million years did he think Tony would be the one to say it first, though.

“I love you too, Tony. Thanks for being here. Not just today, either. You’ve been the best support I’ve ever gotten. I can’t thank you enough,” Peter whispered back, his eyes a little teary. Between the exhaustion of his two days of racing and the emotional roller coaster of it all, Peter felt drained – and that meant a little more susceptible to being smacked in the face with his feelings. Looking over his shoulder, Peter reached for an awkward angled kiss – the move stopping the tears in their tracks.

Without missing a beat when they pulled away, Tony pressed a kiss to his neck and shoulder, hands traveling down Peter’s side. “You deserve it. Not just because you’re good – even though you’re fucking amazing. You bring a lot of things to the table, Pete. The more people get to see that, the more they realize just how big of an asset you are. Why do you think your teammates came up with us to cheer you on? You make an impression – you’re the greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Peter turned over to get a better look at Tony, the boy’s words so big. Now that they were facing each other, Peter could see the post-orgasm flush on Tony’s cheeks and the soft smile his lips seemed to be in on a near permanent basis these days. He pressed a kiss to the edge of his smile on both cheeks, then licked his nose in jest. “I think you’re just biased, babe,” Peter decided to say, all of the other words he could have blurted out stuck in the filter – his head everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The rush of air against his cheek when Tony laughed made his body shudder, the goosebumps taking over his flesh a nifty side effect to the soft sound of his boyfriend’s happiness. “You’re probably right.” His reply was quick and followed by a series of kisses against both of Peter’s cheeks. Tony’s hand ran hypnotically from the middle of his back all the way to the top and then back down again – his entire body now completely relaxed into the comfort of his favorite person.

As most do, their relationship changed a little bit after that. With the summer months ahead of them, there wasn’t much else to do other than spend time together. Tony’s parents left the day after they got back from nationals and would be gone for the rest of the summer – which meant they got run of the huge Stark mansion, just the two of them. They spent way too many hours in the lab constructing a couple new versions of some of their older robotics models – and fucking over available surface, too. It was one of the best summers Peter could remember and they didn’t even leave the city.

Throughout the week, Tony took Peter back and forth between his place and May’s – he still needed to do track workouts and such, so he used the mornings away from Tony to do just that. After his last win, it felt important to make sure he kept at it and tried to advance even more than he already was. He committed to Stanford at the end of the school year and didn’t want to give the school a reason to rescind the opportunity they were giving him. He and Tony were both polishing up their essays before sending in their applications – he still needed to get into the school to actually be able to go be an athlete there.

Peter felt lucky, spending the summer days surrounded in the haze of his love for Tony and the fun they could so easily have with each other. Most of his summers before were spent doing odd jobs around town to make a few extra bucks and counting down the days until he could get back to Midtown. It was miserable and Peter dreaded everything about it.

Not anymore, though – the days were dwindling down way too quickly; the freedom of the summer was too sweet to want to give up.

Regardless of his desires, senior year started without much preamble. The beauty of being with someone as smart as Tony came with having every class with him – even their early college classes on the other campus. Each day got to start and end with Tony, the exact way Peter preferred it.

About halfway through the year, May pulled him aside before he could walk out the door – her eyes filled with concern. “Pete – don’t you think you and Tony might be getting a little bit too serious? We haven’t had dinner without him in months,” May said, her face pinched up tight with discomfort. “It’s just – you’re in high school and you two act like you’re a married couple.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips – the truth of that statement hitting him square in the chest. They did and there wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t like that fact. Life with Tony in it was easy – more natural than breathing, even. It never crossed his mind, how the time they spent together might look to people around them. Tony brought him joy and happiness – and those feelings quickly became the sole focus in his life. He felt good and there wasn’t anyone who could take that away from him – not even May.

“Yeah, we do. And that’s okay. It’s not unhealthy, or anything. I like being around him, May. He makes me happy. Isn’t that what you want – for me to be happy? He’s my best friend. I’m not going to give up on the way that makes me feel – even if you think it’s too much.” Peter didn’t wait for her answer, he simply pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked out the door – the black Audi sitting there immediately making him feel better.

Settling into the seat, Peter buckled himself in before reaching across the middle console to put a hand on Tony’s thigh. “Want to know what May just said to me?” Peter asked, a soft smile on his lips. The thigh under his hand moved as Tony adjusted, his boyfriend turning a bit in the seat to see him more clearly.

“That sounds like a trick question – but I’ll bite. What did May just say to you?” Tony put the car into gear and pulled forward, his hand grabbing Peter’s and tangling their fingers together. “If it’s juicy girl talk about me, I definitely want to know.”

Peter brought their joint hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to Tony’s knuckles – his nose rubbing there for a second. Tony’s hands were always warm, the constant presence of it one of his favorite things about the other boy. “She said we act like a married couple. I can’t lie – I liked the sound of it.” And he did – very much, almost to the point where he wanted it to be the case.

Tony must have liked the sound of that, too – his fingers squeezed Peter’s tightly, his head nodding vigorously. “I too like the sound of that. We might as well be. You’re not ever going to be able to get rid of me,”

Not that he wanted to anyway, Peter thought to himself. The rest of the drive to school, Peter kept the thought at the back of his head – his brain already moving in a billion different directions. They were heading out to California together in the summer, Tony already had plans for their house (though, he failed to share them with Peter,) and his boyfriend was right – there’d be no getting rid of Tony now that the attachment was created. Peter didn’t think either of them wanted to know what it was like to be without the other.

As the year mark of their relationship crept up, so did early acceptance time for Stanford. Between finals week, making goo-goo eyes at each other, and waiting by the mail – Peter felt a little bit of stress. There’d be another opportunity to get into Stanford later on the year, his entire future wasn’t riding on this acceptance letter, yet, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about it nonetheless.

His record was spotless – but weirder things have happened in his life and he was unable to let himself relax completely. Tony would get in, that was a given – everything about the boy shouted pristine. And despite not wanting to lean on the Stark name, Tony couldn’t escape the prestige that his family offered him.

When the letters did eventually come, Peter almost passed out when he saw the ‘Congratulations’ in the first sentence. He spent so many sleepless nights brainstorming back up plans for no reason. The ability to drop all of the stress and worry away was like lifting the bag from his head – Peter could breathe fully for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Tony pulled him into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, the touch lingering only for a moment. “See, you were worried for nothing,” Tony whispered, his nose brushing against Peter’s softly. “Proud of you, Pete.” He kissed him again, this time his lips lingering for a couple of minutes.

The pride they felt for each other made the celebration of their acceptances into college that much sweeter – Tony took his time with every aspect of it, his fingers reverent, his thrusts long and thorough. He pulled every ounce of pleasure from Peter’s skin, while whispering sweet words of nothing the entire time. As Peter hit his peak and felt Tony tumble down with him, the thought of forever came back and hit him again – there was a lot to be said for spending the rest of his days just like this; completely and utterly absorbed in everything Tony was and could be.

----

The rest of the year went pretty quickly after they came back from winter break. Peter scheduled his final semester to be as easy as possible – between the hopes of having his best track season and starting a life with Tony, school was the last thing on his mind. There weren’t too many options for the more advanced classes, anyway – their aeronautical engineering classes the next year would be more than enough.

Some of the best parts of the end of their senior year didn’t come from school or the track. Tony surprised him with a scavenger hunt around Virginia Beach to ask him to prom. The day ended with Tony at the end of their favorite dock with a single red rose. The other knew there wasn’t any need to even ask – they simply put on nice suits the year before and danced the night away. Yet, the fact that Tony went out of his way to make it special felt pretty damn good.

They rode in one of the Stark limos to the big hotel Midtown always held their prom in and spent the entire time making out in the back seat. For some reason, Tony’s fire burnt a little hotter that night. He pulled Peter close and kept him near when they were standing with a couple of the different groups of people they were friendly with. The last slow dance of the night ended with Tony pressing soft kisses to the shell of his ear and muttering about how much he loved him. Getting into the back of the limo, Jarvis didn’t even try to engage them in conversation, he simply rolled up the window and pulled the car away from the curb. Peter couldn’t remember a time when Tony’s touch was so hotly determined.

Their good time at prom translated into an abundance of energy for Peter – the rest of the school year and track season went by in the blink of an eye. Before anyone really knew it, he was lining up for his last ever national’s meet – that thought making his heart thump against his chest. Track was going to get him exactly what he wanted out of his life – it felt a little weird to be closing that particular chapter.

Settling onto the line, Peter closed his eyes and got himself to his spot – the place somewhere in his mind that he could just relax and let his body go. He’d been sprucing the spot up a bunch over the past year, this season one of season best yet because of it. After another second, the gun sounded and Peter took off, his eyes snapping open and completely focused on the run ahead of him.

As he turned the corner of his last ever straightaway in his high school track career, Peter found himself smiling. The last few steps felt like his best yet and when he crossed the finish line to the announcer saying his name over the speaker, he raised a hand in the air and let out a shriek of victory. What a way to end what turned out to be some of the best years of his life so far. Getting there meant so much, Peter couldn’t have done it without the people in the stands supporting him. He looked up to catch eyes with Tony and frowned when he didn’t see him. After a quick look around, Peter noticed him at the edge of the track, a smile on his face.

Tony stepped onto the track; his strides purposeful towards Peter. Tilting his head in question, Peter narrowed the space between them – “Tony, what are you doing?” Peter asked, his face pulling into a grin despite his confusion.  “The next race is – “ he started, but was shockingly interrupted by Tony getting down on one knee before him. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth next was stopped in its tracks, his brain all of the sudden narrowed down and completely focused on the person in front of him.

“This is a long time coming, Pete. I know we’re young and there are so many things that are going to change here soon – but I want to be with you when they do. Growing with you these past couple of years has been the very best thing in my life. You put a smile on my face, and I want that for every morning – every day, for the rest of the ones I have left. Marry me, Pete.” Tony flipped open the box of a simple white gold band, the elegance of its basic nature something that made the rightness of the situation standout. The decision seemed pretty easy after that.

Pulling Tony up, Peter crashed their lips together – his sweaty face and the crowd be damned; his best friend and very favorite person just asked him to share forever. He broke the kiss before it could get too heated, their lips separating just enough for Peter to mumble “yes” in the space between them. The world was narrow for a few seconds as Tony slipped the ring on his finger, a huge smile on his face.

“Well, folks – it looks like our record holder and national champion just got engaged; congratulations, Peter Parker!”

His face flushing, Peter urged Tony off the track and out of the public eye – his heart was pounding, and he wanted so much just to have Tony wrapped around him and nothing else. “I can’t believe you did that. We’re getting married,” Peter exclaimed when they were nestled into the safety of the team spaces under the bleachers. Tony was full of surprises and constantly sweeping him off of his feet. It wasn’t necessary – they both knew that. They were solid and nothing was going to change that. Yet, the weight on his left ring finger spoke volumes, the sweet whisper of the rest of their lives together, and the gentle murmur of a commitment that Peter knew Tony was never afraid to give him.

The glitz of excitement lasted all the way through the metal ceremony and the near constant interviews he gave for a couple hours after that. Everyone wanted to know about the gorgeous stranger that stepped up and asked for his hand. They were curious about everything except his last run around the track – and Peter couldn’t blame them. He didn’t have any interest in talking about running when he could still hear Tony’s words in the back of his head, each one fresh – each one trying to dig a hole in his brain and stay there, to be remembered and kept close.

Peter wasn’t naïve, he knew exactly what getting married young would be like. There were still adult things he didn’t know how to do and leaving May’s house to not only go to college, but be someone’s husband – it was scary. The thought of not having Tony with him, for any reason, was much more frightening than anything else, though; he could learn how to do the laundry and pay his taxes, his genius level intelligence needed to be good for something.

Getting back to the hotel room, Tony pulled Peter through the door and proceeded to slip his hands under the warm-up he’d been wearing since he took off his uniform. His skin was dry now, but Tony’s touch brought the goosebumps rushing back, the surface feeling like it might crack and break all over the carpet if Tony’ didn’t keep touching him. A loud cough from the other side of the room stopped them in their tracks – Peter’s eyes widening when he saw May sitting there, a weird look on her face.

“May – what are you doing here? I thought we were meeting you later?” Peter asked, his brain trying to recall when he gave May his room key. She’d been staying at the nice hotel across the street on Tony’s dime, his boyfriend adamant about making sure May was taken care of. Moving a little, Peter felt Tony’s hands fall from under his shirt, the boy grabbing for his palm, instead – their fingers tangling.

It would have been nice, to marvel in the fact that from here on out, they were going to be together. May didn’t seem to have the same idea, though. She stood and closed a little bit of the space between them – the fact that both parties were standing not lost on Peter. He knew her battle tactics – staying on her feet was the easiest way for May to prepare for an attack. Peter bit down on his lip and prepared for the worst – whatever she had to say, it probably wasn’t pretty.

Turning to Tony first, she looked him square in the eye, her lips moving without any sound coming out for a moment, the woman obviously searching for the right words. “When you asked me if you could marry him, I didn’t think you meant ten minutes later!” May exclaimed, her voice cracking a little with the intensity of it. “I would have liked to have gotten some pictures, or something.” She shook her head, then moved her glance over to Peter, eyes now soft – the heat in them gone the second she started talking at Tony.

“And you – you know you’re only 18, right? Marriage isn’t a joke. Picking up his underwear for the rest of your life is taxing and takes a lot of work. Are you ready for that? To be someone else’s before you even figure out who you are?” May’s questions were valid, her empathy obvious in every action she ever made with Peter in mind. His aunt only wanted to see him excel and succeed – he couldn’t hold her worry or curiosity against her.

Dropping Tony’s hand, Peter narrowed the space between himself and May, his arms wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. “Do you remember what Ben used to say? When the bones are good, the rest don’t matter. There’s no cracks in the foundation, May. It’ll be okay. I’m scared, too – but I want this.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek then, her arms tightening as the words seemed to sink in.

He knew using Ben against her wasn’t the fairest thing he could have done – it was obvious she felt his loss so sharply still, all these years later and she was still so desperately in love with him. His uncle’s words were ones that stuck out, though. Even as a young kid, Peter knew things weren’t always good for them.

It was a struggle to pay rent with their meager jobs – they were constantly pulling at everything they had to make ends meet; for Peter and more importantly, each other. Peter’s favorite memory of the man was when he pulled both Peter and May into his lap – he looked around the room and said, “this house won’t crumble – the bones are too good.”

And for some reason, that stuck with him. At 5, he had no idea what it meant. He looked around for days to find the bones of the house. Then Ben died and he watched May do everything she could to keep things afloat – the literal backbone of the little family unit that they were. Finding himself with Tony finally made the words mean something to him – the foundation of their relationship was strong enough to keep whatever they decided upright and standing, regardless of the things that came their way.

Tearfully, May looked between them, Peter back by Tony’s side, their hands tangled together once again. “You’re such a dick for using Ben, Pete – but you’re also right. And no matter what I say, you’re going to do what you want. I’m not stupid enough to lose either of you because I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” May stopped then, shaking her head and filling the space between them with silent steps. She embraced them both, one arm around Peter and the other around Tony – both her babies now. “I love you – both of you. Even if you are a couple of idiots.”

Tony’s parents weren’t as kind and made their opinion about it pretty clear. Peter stood next to Tony while Howard berated him about bad decisions and getting ahead in life – his heart broke with every word, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from busting open. “Why do you care now? I’ve known Tony my whole life and you’ve never been this interested in what he does. I spent almost every day with him last summer and you didn’t call once. It seems like it’s a little late to have such a strong opinion about his behavior now, Mr. Stark.”

Everyone in the room looked at him for a couple of minutes – the silence sitting heavily in the already toxic air around them. Tony broke the trance and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, his lips pressing against the side of his head. “I fucking love you,” Tony murmured. He pulled away and grabbed Peter’s hand, the clank of his boots heavy on the floor as he started to walk out of the room. Neither of his parents said anything or tried to stop him – so they walked down the stairs and left.

There wasn’t anything holding them back now.

----

They decided to be understated about it. Tony used a hefty portion of the funds he miraculously did not get cut off from to buy plane tickets to Hawaii. With May in tow, Tony and Peter got married on the beach in Maui – the sunset in front of them and flower crowns made with the local flora in their hair. The man that officiated the ceremony was a native on the island and took them around to all the best spots in celebration – it was absolutely gorgeous to see the beautiful place from such an insider perspective. Their hired photographer took pictures of them on the beach right as the sun was setting. The whole day absolutely magical, despite the fact that it was just the two of them for most of it.

May stayed in Maui when Peter and Tony left to spend their last week before heading to Stanford together in Honolulu. Their penthouse suite was bigger than his entire childhood home and had the most amazing view of the beach from the balcony at the back of the room. They spent their wedding night getting tipsy with May, so it would be the first night they spent together as husbands – and Peter was a little nervous.

For whatever reason, it felt like a totally new thing, being intimate with Tony now. They were the same people – still Peter and Tony, the young idiots in love. And yet, his heart pounded hard against his chest when Tony wrapped his arms around his hips from behind, his husband’s face settling over Peter’s shoulder. “I can hear you thinking all the way across the room. What’s on your mind, husband?” Tony questioned softly, the movement of his jaw a nice weight against him.

“It’s nice to be able to call each other that, isn’t it? Husband.” Peter reached up and placed his hands on Tony’s, his body relaxing back into him.

Tony moved a bit, giving the side of his neck a kiss. “Yeah, it is.” He pressed another kiss against Peter’s skin, and then another – his lips roaming across all the bare pieces of his neck and shoulder that he could find. “You’re the one, you know? I’m glad I finally get to have the world know that now, too.”

Turning in Tony’s arms, Peter wrapped his own around the other’s neck, their chest’s flush together. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the gentle beat of Tony’s heart against him – the rhythm of it steady. “Your possessive nature is kind of my favorite. I’m yours, Tony. Forever and ever.” Peter whispered the words, his nose brushing back and forth against Tony’s. “I love you, husband.” He finished off the sentiment with a kiss, his lips slipping across the other’s until he opened up to him, their tongues tangling.

It didn’t take much to stumble their way inside and land on the large bed in the middle of the master bedroom. The hotel chose a high thread count sheet set, Peter sighing when he relaxed against them. Tony really did go all out. Thoughts were soon replaced by nothing but feeling, Tony’s lips devouring his for minutes at a time, his husband only pulling back enough to catch a quick breath, then driving back in.

Tony took his clothes off one by one. He started with Peter’s short sleeve button down. He’d been growing some facial hair, and it tickled when he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of Peter’s chest. With only three buttons undone, Tony got sidetracked – his mouth finding first the right nipple, tongue and teeth toying with the nub until it was hard and air sensitive. Only then did he switch, the man taking his time to get his desired result out of that one, too.

Nimble fingers finished the job, the tips of them caressing the lower part of Peter’s stomach and ever so slightly under the waistband of shorts and boxer briefs. He didn’t waste any time at all, either – he pulled the button of Peter’s pants out of the loop and tugged the offensive garment down. That beautiful mouth attached itself to the bulge in Peter’s underwear, the warm air making him toss his head back – his traitorous hips thrusting up off the mattress to get more friction.

Peter slid his fingers into Tony’s hair when he pulled the waistband of his underwear down just enough to let his tongue run over the very tip of an already leaky cock. He couldn’t control the babbles that were coming out of his mouth, most of them not even words – just breathless pants and choked off syllables. Tony worshiped at the alter and took his time slipping his boxer briefs completely off, tracing the length of his cock with eager fingers and tongue, then finally closing his mouth around him completely.

The tight grip at the base of his shaft kept him on the edge of his seat for what felt like forever. Both of Tony’s hands were on him, one hand gripping tight, the other moving with his mouth on the downward stroke – it felt like a fire being stoked from the outside in. “Tony, you’re killing me – I’m so close,” Peter mumbled, his hips thrusting up uselessly into the tight grip of his husband’s hand. Brown eyes completely taken by a lust-addled pupil looked up at him, a glow there.

“Cum, then,” Tony challenged, his lips barely coming off of Peter’s cock to get the words out – he felt the hum of every single one.

He wasn’t one to not listen to directions, so he did just that – Peter’s fingers tightened in Tony’s hair, the strands bunched up between them. “Oh, fuck – “

It took him a second to come back around, his eyes blinking the black dots from them to get a better look at the man between his legs. Tony was still laving his sensitive erection with his tongue, his eyes closed, a look of complete contentment on his face. He watched him long enough to feel the heat bubble in his gut – arousal coursing through him once again.

“Mm – back already. How do you want me?” Tony asked, looking up to catch Peter’s eye. He reached down to tug Tony up, his weight settling on top of him once again. He pressed up and gave his husband a kiss, the taste of himself still fresh on Tony’s tongue. The way the essence of who they were tangled together never ceased to drive him crazy – the underlying taste of Tony below the bitterness so intoxicating.

With Tony over him again, Peter could feel his hardness pressing into his hip – the tip wet, small dribbles of precum dripping from it as they kissed and thrust against each other. Breaking away, he let his fingertips brush Tony’s cheeks, a small smile on his face. “How about you sit back and relax for a minute – I’ll show you exactly what I want.” Peter laid another kiss on his lips before using his hands to push at Tony’s chest, his husband moving without much prodding.

“Sit back against the headboard,” Peter instructed, both of them adjusting until Tony was propped up against the back of the bed, creamy thighs straddling him. With eager hands, Peter reached over to the bedside table, his boy scout of a husband leaving the essentials there when they first got in. “Always prepared,” Peter said with a giggle, the lube bottle swinging between them. Uncapping it, Peter poured a generous amount on his fingers and let it warm up – the slickness something he couldn’t wait to feel.

Sitting up a little, he widened his legs across Tony’s lap, his finger finding his own entrance and pushing in. it still took a little while to get used to, the feeling fingers inside of himself, but Tony’s hands running up and down his thighs helped, his entire being relaxing. “You look good like this, Pete. Your eyes are glazed over and your skin is flushed. The running gives you these amazing thighs – and watching you put your own fingers inside yourself… I want to be those fingers, Pete. I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Tony babbled as he watched and caressed, his eyes glued to Peter’s.

He threw his head back, all of his nerve endings on fire – the delightful tug-o-war between the naughty words coming out of Tony’s mouth and the stretch of his own fingers. It was hard to break away from the intensity of his husband’s gaze, but he needed more – he swiftly replaced one finger with two, a groan slipping from his lips from the delightful burn. “I can’t wait either, baby. I can’t – I need you.” He was groaning, the words dripping from his lips without much of a run through his brain to mouth filter.

Neediness in mind, Peter rushed through the rest of the prep – the tease of it doing its job – Tony was mindlessly thrusting up against him and his own body was humming with want and heat; all of it so very delicious.

Peter uncapped the lube again and poured a generous amount directly onto Tony’s cock, his husband opening his eyes wide – “Fuck, Pete,” he shouted, neither of them all that worried about the noise level. He gripped Tony tightly and spread the slick down his cock, his length glistening when he pulled away. “Please, baby – “ Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter’s hips tightly as he settled over him.

There wasn’t much finesse to the way Peter simply sat back and took Tony’s length in – he felt the biting burn of stretching muscles and the tight grip of his husband’s fingers, but not much else. His legs were spread wide, his hips merely rolling to keep the entirety of Tony in him, the tip of his dick sitting just barely against his prostate. With the small thrusts up Tony couldn’t hold back, Peter’s innermost pleasure spot was constantly getting serviced, the divine ache of It out of this world.

It didn’t take much time for Tony to start to lose control – “Move, please – more… I need more.” Tony wasn’t much of a talker when they got to this portion of the evening, he showed his pleasure and appreciation through the touches, each caress saying something different, portraying his feelings in that instant. It sent a jolt to his core and spurred him up onto his feet, his arms holding onto Tony’s shoulders for dear life.

Tony’s hands moved to grip an ass cheek in each one, his hold helping Peter lift up a little more. He moved rapidly, then – his control swiftly shot, the shift in position pressing Tony in a little deeper. The only sounds in the room were the slap of skin on skin and harsh breaths – Peter whimpering every few thrusts down against the tip of Tony’s cock; his insides burning, the heat eating him up cell by cell.

When Tony started to lift his hips to meet his thrusts, Peter saw stars – his orgasm rushing over him without warning. “Tony, oh god – “ his cock emptied between them, each splash of cum coating Tony’s still flexing abs.

The rhythmic clenching of his hole must have been too much – Tony came undone beneath him only seconds later. He gripped Peter so hard he could already feel the bruises starting to form there. The delightful wetness within him made him clench again, the move drawing a long groan from his husband’s lips.

“You’re going to kill me one day,” he mumbled, his hands brushing up the length of Peter’s back as he leaned against him. “But what a way to go.” Peter shut him up with a kiss, their shared laugh almost as amazing as the love they just made.

The rest of the week was spent much the same – Peter and Tony tangled up together. They walked along the beach and spent time exploring each of the islands – one of the days, they met May for lunch and talked about all of the cute island guys that she’d been gathering up the courage to talk to. It was pretty perfect – a good way to relax and enjoy the last couple of days of freedom before the fun started.

Tony didn’t let him leave the bed all of the last day. They bought movies on demand and ate really expensive room service. After the burn he got the day before, Peter was grateful to spend the day in the air conditioning, his body worshipped by his very new and very beautiful husband.

----

They said goodbye to May at the airport and took a left when she went right. Peter was expected to check in for track workouts the very next day. It was hard to see her crying face take the corner – Peter wouldn’t get to go back to Virginia until winter break and when they did, it was only for a week. The indoor season would take up so much of his time, he wondered for a while if he’d be able to keep up with the aeronautical engineering program. There wasn’t any point in worrying, though – they hadn’t even gotten there yet.

After the 5-hour flight into Palo Alto, Tony got them a car that took them to their brand-new town house. It was the first time that Peter saw it, so he brushed off the tiredness and explored the two-story home – Tony must have spent a lot of time ordering furniture while Peter took care of their clothes and other belongings.

The entire house was set up – and their books for the semester were sitting on the dining room table. “I had Jarvis come ahead and set everything up for us. He wanted to buy us a wedding gift, but I thought a week in California for a little bit of interior decorating was a good trade-off,” Tony said, his hand caressing Peter’s cheek when they finally settled into the bar stools in the kitchen. “Do you like it?”

Peter moved quickly out of the seat, wrapping Tony in his arms before his husband could move or even think. “It’s perfect. There’s so much space, I won’t even know what to do with myself. I can’t believe this is ours,” Peter replied, a little bit of awe in his voice. It felt weird to be on his own for the first time, but also amazing – they were finally together, finally on their own, and completely free to start their life together.

Of course, it took a little bit of adjustment to get used to things. Tony didn’t do a lot of his own cleaning growing up and Peter washed the dishes for May every night – so it took more than a few discussions to come to a compromise that worked for them both. When Peter was unhappy, Tony listened to his complaints and tried his best. Peter tried to do the same for his husband and most of the time – it worked. The times that it didn’t, there was enough space for the two of them to separate and cool off. Fights were never major, though Tony sometimes tried to make them so.

It was funny – how different married life actually was to what he pictured in his head. There wasn’t much difference to their relationship. They laughed together often and explored the city – when Peter had track events, Tony went with him. People looked at them oddly when Peter introduced Tony as his husband – many of them telling them both that they would have never guessed they were gay, let alone married. Peter merely smiled and pulled Tony towards him; a soft kiss being pressed to the man’s cheek. “Yup, gay and happily married,” he always replied, a soft smile making the words as convincing as they were true.

Tony took a job in the physics lab during their second semester freshman year, his need to fill the time even more pressing now that Peter would be gone pretty frequently. It gave them a bit of separation and made coming back together a lot sweeter. Right before Peter left for his first ever college track meet, Tony took him to the plant nursery to pick out a couple of the foliage he’d been looking at. They initially wanted a pet but figured that a plant dying would be much less scarring than a dog or a cat.

They went home with a whole selection of house plants – a spider plant, a lucky bamboo, some ponytail palms, and a sword fern. They were perfect for the back part of the house where the morning sun peaked in. They would be successful parents one day and that journey started with the plants that they picked out with care. It was fun to argue about how to arrange them and when they ended up on the floor with nothing on but a little dirt from a tipped over pot, Peter figured they’d do an okay job keeping their little babies alive.

College track was a lot different than the high school circuit – the abundance of meets making it a little harder to recover and by default, Peter a little grumpier than usual. A Thursday after a long practice, Peter came home to an empty house. He’d been looking forward to pouncing on Tony, his need for comfort almost overwhelming to the point where he was a little pissed by his husband’s absence.

Pulling out his phone, he called Tony, his head tilting when he heard the man’s distinct ring up the stairs. A soft sigh left his lips when he saw Tony on the bed, fast asleep. All of the bad feelings slipped from him – his face pulling into a grin. The siren song of the love of his life looking so cute in bed pulled him in, too – Peter kicked off his shoes and wrapped himself around Tony, his eyes slipping closed within moments.

The smell of bacon woke him up a little while later. Glancing over at the clock, Peter saw that it’d only been a couple of hours. Grinning at the thought of overcooked pig, he climbed out of bed and hobbled down the stairs, his body still a little sleep addled.

The sight of Tony at the stove was heartwarming, he wasn’t the best cook – he never had to make a meal for himself before moving out here in his life; but he tried, and that was enough. The one thing Peter knew he could make was bacon, though – his stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought.

“Hey, husband,” Peter announced, his voice making Tony turn from the stove with a slight jump.

“Hey yourself. You’re looking good, Pete. That little bit of sleep did you good, baby.” Tony smiled at him warmly, the bright look in his eye never dulling, the intensity of it only seeming to glow more as the days passed. It felt good – to be loved like that. So selflessly, with so much of a person that was willing to give him absolutely everything.

Walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, Peter grabbed his hips, fingers squeezing. “Yeah, thanks – its been a hectic couple of weeks. Conference is coming up, so they’ve got their foot on the gas with training. Speaking of – I can get you a pass, if you want to come.”

Tony flipped the burner off and went about putting things on plates, his husband turning with his hands full to nod enthusiastically at him. “You know I want to come, Pete. I haven’t missed one of your meets yet. It was kind of fun to go to Idaho a couple of weeks ago – I’d never been before.” He set a plate in front of Peter, a glass of orange juice following it a couple of moments later. “I’m going to get your distance coach to like me one of these days.”

Peter ate with one hand, the other playing with the fingers tangled with his own. Tony talked a bit about his day in the lab and told him about the copy of notes he made for Peter that was sitting on his desk in the study. He simply let him talk, Peter luxuriating in the clarity of being with Tony. It didn’t matter if he had a shitty day or that he was tired all the time – having Tony to come home to was nice – better than nice.

A couple of weeks later, Peter was getting ready for a race when one of his teammates came up to him, a question evident in his eyes. Letting out a breath, Peter turned his attention to him. “What’s up, Clint? I’m sure the rumor mill is churning up something good.” Peter said sarcastically, his arms still swinging in an attempt to keep himself warm.

“Why are you married? You’re talented, you’re hot – you could have anyone that you wanted. Instead you’re tied down. Why? Everyone wants to know why.” Clint didn’t beat around the bush, the blush on his cheeks the only sign that he felt a little bit embarrassed by the question. Peter grinned, the question one he could easily answer.

“Because I love him. He loves me. We take care of each other. He’s my best friend. I wanted to be with him forever and so did he. There are lots of reasons.” Peter’s smile grew when he saw Tony coming his way, his husband carrying a Gatorade and a hot dog, the bottle being thrust his way the second he was close enough to Peter. “Because he buys me Gatorade without asking,” Peter added, his arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulder.

Twenty minutes later, when Peter was pulling up from his push through the last lap, he looked up to see a group of his teammates sitting with Tony, all of them clapping and cheering with him – his husband hopping around like a madman. When they caught eyes, Tony stopped, his fingers coming to his lips to blow him a kiss. He mouthed ‘I love you’ at him – Peter’s heart stopping a bit at the softness of his cheeks and the look of pure affection on his face.

Peter ran to the edge of the track and grabbed the edges of the fence, a huge smile on his face. “I love you too, Tony Stark.”

Opening up the text from Clint a couple hours later, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. Tony looked over his shoulder to see a picture of Peter clinging to the fence, the shot of his side profile showing off the huge smile on his face. “Loving me looks good on you,” Tony whispered, his lips pressing against the shell of Peter’s ear.

“Yeah, it really does.”

[lost-in-time-marie]

Into the Shadows: Chapter Two

The rest of the week passed easily. I hung out with Natasha and Katy whenever possible, easily getting into my familiar school routine. I put in extra effort to participate this year, shaking of the previous years’ disinterest. I avoided any form of contact with Ryder; in class a competition took place of who could pretend best that the other wasn’t there; I liked to pretend I won those. Classes picked up eventually and I started getting the first lessons and assignments of the year.

Things did, however, get interesting one Wednesday. Mrs. Robertson was announcing “Romeo and Juliet” to be the play of the semester, a super original choice, I noted with the roll of my eyes, when Mr. Monroe, the principal, walked in. He whispered something to Mrs. Robertson, and she nodded and smiled. A few seconds later Mr. Monroe walked out and ushered a tall, dark, and handsome male inside. A swarm of hushed, excited conversations passed between the girls in class. The guy was handsome; I had to say that, with curly, dark brown hair falling over eyes so brown they were nearly black, wiry muscles hidden under slightly tanned skin, and his face was all angles, smooth and sharp. The class watched curiously as an introduction took place. Mrs. Robertson greeted the new student kindly; he returned her warm smile and shook her hand. Mr. Monroe took his leave just as Mrs. Robertson turned and addressed the class.

         “Class,” she announced, “this is James Sampson, he is new to our area so please be kind to him.” Mrs. Robertson led him to my seat and loudly pushed a desk from the back of class to the side of my desk unoccupied by Ryder. Our school was very popular this year, apparently so was I. For the second time in so many days, the gazes of my peers shot daggers into my back, and I felt every single one.

“I know you already have a partner,” Mrs. Robertson said, gesturing to my other side where Ryder sat, “but would you be a dear and show James around? I know I can trust you to be nice.” Mrs. Robertson flashed a joyful smile and returned to the front of class without even waiting to hear my answer. I didn’t really mind helping out, but seriously? How many new students was she going to place in my care? At least this one appeared nicer than Ryder.

“Is Mrs. Robertson going to put her with all the hot guys?” The girl behind me, Kim, complained to her partner, Elizabeth, who muttered in agreement. I rolled my eyes. God, I hated them so much.

“Hello, I’m James,” the mysterious newcomer greeted me politely, flashing a charming smile and offering his hand after taking a seat. His molten gaze aimed in my direction quickly dispelled my thoughts of Kim and Elizabeth.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Kristin. Welcome to hell,” I joked surprisingly easily, my round face brightening with a warm smile as I took his hand.

“Is this class really that bad?” He chuckled.  

         “Oh, you have no idea. Mrs. Robertson can’t control a class to save her life, and she just finished telling us the play for the semester. Care to take a guess? It’s a huge cliché: Romeo and Juliet,” I whispered, as Mrs. Robertson began passing out the script.

         He let out a low whistle, “Oh man, it’s so much worse than I thought. Just kill me now,” He joked.

         “Only if you promise to take me down with you,” I laughed. James was easy to laugh with, I was surprised to discover. Generally being considered the school outcast and finding it a chore to relate to the rest of my species most of the time, I was impressed by our light interaction. After that, we became instant friends, joking about class and comparing schedules. It turned out we had AP Literature, lunch, and AP Psychology together as well. James glowed with warmth and oozed charm. Acting suddenly became my second favorite class of the day instead of a morning drag.

              “Hey guys, this is James Sampson,” I introduced, plopping down with my tray at the lunch table. Natasha sat beside Aleks, a Russian foreign exchange student who had transferred to our school two years ago. Natasha always had an odd, bordering creepy, fascination with everything Russian for as long as I had known her. The moment Aleks had been ushered into our classroom in tenth grade with his shaggy dark hair, muscular build, dark eyes, pale white skin, and thick accent, she pulled up a desk and befriended him. He stuck with us ever since, I never minded because he was actually a very nice guy.

         “Hello,” James greeted warmly.

         “Nice to meet you,” Natasha said kindly.

         “Hey,” Aleks said casually after a moment of eyeing James warily. I explained that James was new and Mrs. Robertson instructed me to show him around. Shortly thereafter, he won over Natasha and Aleks as easily as he had me. I got the feeling James was just good at that kind of thing; making friends, charming people, adapting to new surroundings. All of us already felt like we’d known him for much longer than a couple of hours.

         “Well, you’re certainly better than the first new kid Kristin had to show around,” Natasha praised openly with a smile.

         Aleks shook his head, before candidly adding “Natasha was just filling me in on that. Ryder is a huge asshole.”

         “Our other partner in Acting?” James asked with a quizzical look.

         “Yeah, I’d watch out for that one, he’s not terribly friendly. He’s said about one whole sentence to me since school started, and that one sentence wasn’t very nice,” I explained, recalling our brief introduction and the hallway when I tried to help him.

         “Yeah, I kind of got that feeling from him. He doesn’t look at us at all; just sits perfectly still and straight in his chair, when the bell rang today, he practically ran out the door.” James observed.

Conversation eventually took a new turn, for which I was thankful, and the rest of lunch passed easily as we introduced James to the school and gave him tips and warnings. Soon the bell rang and I headed off to Teacher Assisting. Helping Mrs. Enders grade papers and make copies certainly doesn’t make a class period go by quickly, but at least she was nice and when I finished my work she let me do my homework in the library. Eventually the torture ended, and I headed off to AP Chemistry, an entirely different, more painful, kind of torture. After what felt like ages of hearing Mrs. Gold ramble about atoms, molecules, ions, and other things I didn’t care about, the bell rang and I bolted for AP Psychology, my favorite class. I caught up with Natasha and James before the late bell rang. We took seats near each other while Natasha dished the latest school gossip. Soon the bell rang, and Sinclair came sweeping in the door, right on time. Class passed quickly as he explained an upcoming project, when the bell rang again, I could hardly believe the school day was over.

“Hey, Natasha, do you mind waiting by the car for me, I need to drop off my volunteer application at the elementary campus,” I said, shoving a binder into my already heavy green backpack.

“Ooh, I want to see the babies,” Natasha cooed excitedly.

“Wait for me at the car, I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail for kidnapping,” I laughed. She sulked and grabbed her books, trudging off to the parking lot.

Our school had an interesting tier design. The high school, my school, stood at the very front of a large piece of property, behind it, across a grassy field, the middle school was built, and across another grassy field, in the very back, sat the elementary school. The elementary school had an after school care program to watch the students whose parents worked late, the school was always looking for volunteers to help out; I loved kids so it was a convenient way to get my mandatory volunteer hours for graduation.

I made the long trek to the elementary campus, taking my time, appreciating the vast greenness of the school fields and the dappled patches of wildflowers growing amongst them. A large brick building loomed closer and closer, a copy of the two other large, brick buildings behind me. My legs led the way without any prodding and I found myself in main office. Air conditioner and the scent of orange sterilizer blasted me the moment I entered. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. None of the office ladies sat behind the long tan counter, which bisected the room. Just when I was about to turn and leave, I noticed a small, black bin perched on the counter labeled Volunteer Applications. I placed my packet in the bin and turned to walk out the door. Instead, I slammed right into the person behind me. At least, I assumed it was a person, because it felt a little more like running into a brick wall.

“Ouch!” I yelled, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

“Are you alright?” A soft, concerned voice asked from above me. My eyes fluttered open to the sight of Ryder, except he didn’t look like himself. The stone mask I’d grown so accustomed to melted away, worry and concern softening his sharp features.

“I’m fine,” I replied a little dazed, still curiously studying his expression. His jaw line softened from harsh angles to a more rounded edge and his eyes looked more brilliant instead of glaring intimidation. Ryder grabbed my arms gently and pulled me up with ease; he studied me for just a moment longer, then all at once the stone mask slammed into place and he jerked stiffly away.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not letting him turn to stone so easily.

“Picking up my little brother,” Ryder said in the same stiff tone he always used. I sighed and said a half-hearted goodbye, not wanting to be near stone-statue Ryder any longer than I had too.

“What took you so long?” Natasha complained when I finally reached her car.

“Long line,” I muttered sliding into the smooth, leather passenger seat of her car, not feeling up to divulging in a six hour play by play of my run in with Ryder.

“So do you want to come over my house and work on the AP Government assignment?” Natasha asked starting the car and backing out of the parking lot.

“Oh, I completely forgot about it. Yeah, that sounds good, just let me text my mom,” I said. I got permission from my mom and chatted with Natasha about James and other school events for the rest of the short ride to her house.

“Kristin?” Natasha asked in a more cautious voice than usual once we parked in her driveway. I paused halfway through undoing my seatbelt to turn to her, sensing a more serious turn of conversation.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked.

“That night I pulled you out of bed, I’m sorry for being so reckless. It was really irresponsible of me. You know how I get in those danger seeking moods with my bipolar disorder,” Natasha apologized softly, staring at the steering wheel.

“It’s really okay, once you ran off I just went home,” I shrugged, wishing to end the conversation. It wasn’t often Natasha had enough insight to realize her actions in her manic phases, I wasn’t quite sure how to take her sudden maturity. Perking back up to her usual self, Natasha retreated into the house ready to begin our project with a clear conscience. As I stepped out of the car to follow her, an image flitted through my mind, a dark figure darting about in the shadows, but the more I reached for the memory, the further it slipped away. I shook my head as if that would dispel the thought, grabbed my books, and ran after Natasha into the house.

    My footsteps echoed on the wet asphalt street. I hugged my jacket closer against the cold, damp air. I warily searched each shadow and dark, empty yard for figures and silhouettes. I felt the oddest sense of déjà vu. Why am I being so nervous? I’d made the short walk from Natasha’s house to mine thousands of times, during both the night and day. I could probably close my eyes and my feet would just lead me home. I squared my small shoulders, shook my head, brown hair smacking me in the face, and told myself to stop being such a baby.

Natasha and I hadn’t intended to work that late. The assignment wasn’t due until next week, but we got an idea and finished the whole project in one night. The next time I looked up it was already 10pm. We quickly packed up and now I was practically jogging home so my mom wouldn’t ground me for breaking curfew. I silently cursed myself for insisting on walking when Natasha offered a ride, but I wasn’t ready to be home so soon.

“Hey! You’re the girl that got my brother in trouble!” A deep, harsh voice shouted at me. I jumped in surprise, shuttled instantly from my thoughts to reality. The dark street came into focus again, but this time in front of me a hulking man blocked my path. The darkness sheltered him; in the only bit of light offered by a distant streetlamp, I could make out thick, rippling muscles. I instinctually backed up. The monstrous man let out a bellowing laugh.

“That’s right, girlie, you should be afraid,” He taunted, taking a giant step forward. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach and I fought desperately against the panic rising within me.

“What are you talking about?” I asked annoyed, faking confidence, “You’re making me late. I have a curfew.” I crossed my arms and stared straight at him. This guy was bigger than a horse, but I was determined to keep up my façade, so I kept glaring at him defiantly and refused to show any weakness. The flashes of images were running rampant behind my eyes, confusing bursts, a flurry of overwhelming emotions. One thought tickled the back of my mind, taunting me with the clarity just out of my reach.

“You better make time for me then,” He bellowed angrily, “You got my brother arrested. He was just being friendly and talking to you. The police arrested him for no reason at all,” He ranted, walking closer. I refused to move an inch.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” I complained, forcing an exasperated sigh. My head was spinning with the force of the memories, and still the one memory I needed for them all to make sense danced just out of reach.

“I’ll just have to finish this matter then,” He rambled nonsensically with an excited smile, sauntering closer. I took several steps back this time, fear crashing down on me like an anvil. The snarky, sarcastic voice in the back of my mind joked about being attacked by such a cliché thug, but fear quickly gagged that voice. This was real, actually happening, it wasn’t like the movies I was accustomed to watching or the stories I was fond of reading. That thought almost pushed me over the edge, and if my joints weren’t locked in place I may have collapsed.

“Run little girl,” the thug whispered, “I’ll even give you a head start.” He taunted.

“That makes you nicer than me,” A light, teasing voice echoed from behind the thug. Suddenly, in the time it took me to blink, the man before me was lying on the floor, leaving a lean figure standing in his wake. The man roared and jumped up. I stood frozen as the lithe figure danced around the man, easily avoiding his blind, rageful attacks.

The memory ripped forward from my subconscious, finally ready to be discovered. I remembered Natasha rapping loudly on my bedroom window, calling me outside to seek danger, and then her leaving me alone in the street. On my journey back home, two experienced thugs trapped me in the dark street and a strange figure saved me. The next thing I knew it was morning and I was waking up in my room thinking the whole ordeal had been a strange dream.

“Oh, you’re going to have to do better than that,” The shadow teased, leaning against an unlit streetlight, pulling me from my reverie. I squinted to get a better look at the figure; it was definitely the one from the other night. The figure was rather tall, a head taller than my 5 foot 3 inches, lean, and muscular. That was all I could discern in the dark. The man bellowed and charged at the shadow, but the figure was already gone, the man instead punched an empty streetlamp with a metallic thud. The thug cried out in pain and whirled around searching for the taunting shadow. His eyes fell on me. Before I could move an inch, if I could have even moved at all, he had his thick, sweaty arms wrapped around me. I gagged on his overwhelming stench of sweat and body odor. His hot breath on my neck made my stomach churn in disgust. I might as well have been restrained by steel bars because no amounts of kicking or squirming made him even ease up.

“How about if I squeeze the life out of your little girlfriend?” The thug shouted at empty air, spinning wildly looking for the figure. This thug smelled about as pleasant as the last, apparently his brother, and his brother I only got a whiff of from a distant. Up close and personal was not a place I wanted to be with this guy.

One moment the man restrained me, the next I dropped quickly to the ground and the man lay behind me in a crumpled heap. The shadow stood with the unconscious man at his feet and made no attempt to approach me. My head swam, black spots dancing across my vision. I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the damp, dirty street and never move again.

“Are you okay? You’re not going to pass out again, are you?” The figured asked from the shadows, his voice softer now, wary. I quickly stood up and brushed myself off. Luckily my huge displeasure at showing emotion to strangers won over my weaker self.

“I don’t think so,” I said, scowling and giving myself a quick once-over. I squinted in the dark trying to get a look at my savior. In the glint of the moonlight I saw only a black, Lone Ranger style mask and dark eyes. I stepped closer to get a better look, but the figure retreated farther.

“It seems you have a knack for trouble,” the figure teased playfully, leaning lazily against the unlit streetlamp again.

“Whatever do you mean?” I joked with mock confusion. I thought I saw him flash a bright grin as he turned to leave.

“Wait!” I shouted, “Don’t I get to know who saved me? Twice,” I added.

He chuckled, “Just stay away from dark streets, they’re dangerous at night.” With that, my hero melted silently into the shadows.

[lovingpartydeputyeagle]

Notes: Hi lyric and I guess Naomi, so for this story I basically tried to make it like tutor sessions but I wanted to put my own twist on it to make it like some of the other stories that I have been reading here’s a little disclaimer basically Lyric is the main character and Naomi is her best friends or her side character or whatever and there is a brief mention of hawks but the love interest or whatever is Dabi yeah. I wrote it on here cause like no one knows that I have tumbler I didn’t want to do it on wattpad. Hopefully you like this 😐

It was the first day back to school and over the summer you had gone through a horrible break up which wasn't the best way to spend summer but your entire focus was gonna be on school this year no more relationships. You thought to yourself.

As you entered you first period, you see your friend Naomi... she called you over "hey Lyric! come sit by me" you then walked over to your seat and set everything down while the rest of the kids came into the classroom.

As the class began your teacher projects "welcome back to school students my name is Mr.Jean and this year you will be taking AP history or in other words advanced history". "This year we have two students who are sophomores but were allowed to take this upper class because of their high GPA."

"Their names are Lyric and Naomi if you turn and look back they are sitting in the corner" Everyone turned to look back at you guys for about 5 seconds and for the most part you thought nothing of it, but this one guys with black hair and burn marks who was quite cute in your eyes stared a little longer. The guy sitting next to him with blonde hair grabbed him and said "dude turn around don't be a creep".

The teacher sighs, "Hawks and Dabi please don't forget that you guys are retaking this class because you goofed off last year, you're seniors get it together."

They both looked embarrassed and you kinda felt bad for them, you look over to see Naomi not even paying attention to them though, that made you a little upset since her and the blonde would definitely look good together.

As class ended you went to your other 5 courses, and thank god that you didn't have to see your ex since you guys didn't have any periods together. That made you super relieved, it was about 6:00 and you were done with cheer practice. You headed back to your dorm where Naomi already had been since she didn't do much after school. You were able to stay on campus in high school because of dual enrolment.

You dropped your things and plopped on your bed, you weren't planning on going to sleep because you wanted to shower but Naomi forgot to wake you up even though you told her 10 times to wake you up!. It was the next day 8:00 Am to be specific and class started at 7:45 you were late...or at least you were gonna be REALLY late ! You jumped up and quickly yelled "Naomi ! Wake up ! ....we are so late you didn't wake me up last night or set an alarm ! UHHH!"

"Lyric calm down, I fell asleep and couldn't wake you it's just class." "You are only mad cause you might see Your ex Todoroki in the halls because he's usually late to class too. You reply "uhh okay yeah maybe, anyways wait for me until I get out the shower we might as well be really late cause I don't wanna go to class smelly" You both got ready and headed to your first period where you saw Dabi and Hawks, something about Dabi had you so intrigued but uu didn’t know what it was. The entire class period you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

When class ended you quickly snapped out of it and thought about the promise you made to yourself after what you went through with Todoroki, boys would not be something that distracted you. At lunch you sat with Naomi and told her that she should definitely get with Hawks cause they would look so good together. She responded “don’t think that I didn’t notice the way you were looking at Dabi the whole class, let’s talk about that.

You looked confused and responded “no he’s not my type”.... “Who’s not your type?” said a deep voice coming from behind you, “oh um hi ! You responded “you’re in my first period right” “yeah my name is Dabi and this is Hawks, can we sit here?” Naomi nodded “yeah definitely, we weren’t talking about anything serious.”

He smirks “oh okay...that’s good to hear ladies”

Hawks turns and starts to have a conversation with Naomi while Dabi turns and faces towards you. He laughs “so I mean I can hear pretty good, who is this guy that’s not really your type”.....you blush “oh um that was just a little inside joke I promise , it’s nothing to dwell on. He says “hmm okay whatever you say, so how are you liking Mr jeans class Lyric, it must be so easy because you were able to get in because of your high GPA.”

You respond “to be honest the work seems kind of hard, harder than I expected” Dabi says “oh so “smartie” can’t even get that mans work done he’s such a pain in the ass.” You think to yourself wow this guy is pretty funny...maybe I shouldn’t push him away.

He says in his monotone voice “well since we both seem to be struggling...maybe we could have a study sesh, ya know for the upcoming quiz next week”. You respond “uhm yeah this Saturday right after the football game I can come to your dorm” his face lights up “yeah that’s perfect since I’m playing in the game, and your a cheerleader right”? “yeah, uh yeah I am”you responded.

Fast forward to Saturday you and Naomi head to the field and she wishes you good luck. You start to get in formation while you see Dabi warming up, he smiles at you. You turn around quickly because the game is starting. You and your squad are about to go on, you see Dabi from the corner of your eye looking your way...omg why does he have to be so hot it’s making me nervous you think to yourself. Uh I’m gonna forget the routine.

Luckily you didn’t forget and everything went just as planned. When the game ended it was around 8:00 Pm, You and Naomi headed away from the bleachers when you heard that same deep voice of Dabi yell “Hey! Lyric and Naomi” you both turn around to see him and Hawks running . Hawks says “hey Naomi we are still on for hanging out ?” She reply’s “uh yeah totally”, Dabi says “yeah Lyric we are still on too right?” You responded yes and then He hugged you goodbye that gave you butterflies.

You and Naomi make it back to the dorms, she smirks “I didn’t know you and Dabi had a little thing going onnnn...” you rolled your eyes “we are just studying, plus I’m pretty sure you and Hawks will be doing way more stuff than us tonight .She replied “yeah okay whatever you say I knew I was right, don’t let Todoroki hold you back, not everyone is like him” you ignored her and you guys proceeded to each get in the shower and then get ready.

When you both were finished you realized that it worked perfectly because while Hawks went to you and Naomi’s dorm you would be gone, and while you were at Dabi’s dorm Hawks would be gone. You saw the blonde approaching you...he asked “so Lyric is Naomi ready?, Dabi is ready for you and our dorm is 5b2 just in case you forgot. You reply “uh yeah Naomi is ready, okay bye”

You knocked on Dabi’s dorm and he hugged you again, everything was surprisingly neat and it smelled really, really good. He says “uhm you can sit at the desk I’ll be there in a minute I have to get my books” he came running back and sat right next you. “Okay so we are just taking notes for the study guide” you said he responded “yeah”.

He then wrote his name on the paper [dabi ackerman] your eyes quickly opened wide you thought... no, no way AKERMAN!? the same last name as Todoroki ? You asked “um akerman..that’s your last name don’t tell me you have a brother named Todoroki?”

He responded “uh yeah I do actually he’s in the same grade as you right..how do you know him?” You sigh “we dated last year and ended things over the summer” he looks shocked “ohhh you were the girl he was talking about, yeah my brother is a total piece of shit when it comes to relationships” he puts his hand on your thighs and reassures you “but i promise I’m nothing like him”

He slowly moves his fingers up your thigh “hey Lyric, tell me did you really come here to just study” you responded “well...that was my intention bu-

He cuts of your sentence and kisses you, “I know you didn’t, you can’t be as innocent as you look”. He grabs your hips and lays you down on the bed as he starts to unbuckle his belt, You could see how hard he was through his pants. You gave in, even though he was Todoroki’s brother you wanted to have some fun so you entertained the situation.

You pulled off his black tank top and put your hands in his pants, you then pulled him on the bed and got on top of him. You could see that he was very turned on and the mood was set because of course he already had music playing. You started to kiss his stomach all the way down to his dick.

You put your lips on the tip and his head titled back in pleasure “uh yeah fuck just like that” he then stood up over you and put his hands around your neck “be a good girl like you claim to be, and put the whole thing in your mouth” you did as he said, he still had his head tilted back as tears were running down your face and black eyeliner was dripping, you pulled yourself back and only focused on tip knowing that was his most sensitive place.

He said “oh so your being a bad girl, looks like I’ll have to punish you”. He pulled you up by your hair and pushed you on the bed, he groaned “panties off NOW” you looked away and thought “damn I didn’t wear any” he smirked “oh so you must wanna get torn up” he proceeded to start licking his way down your stomach then he pulled your sweats off with his mouth.

“Oh so no panties, your such a slut baby girl” he pulled your sweats off and kept eye contact with you. As he spit on your cunt, he stuck out his tongue and licked up and down your clit, the metal from his tongue piercing felt so good...you moaned..“uh- yea- !” He whispered “shhh other people will hear you”.

You moaned “uhhh I’- im cumming Dabi, you came in his mouth he smirked “does that turn you on..the thought that other people could hear you being a whore?” ..without warning he put 2 fingers in you moving in and out fast. “Dabi please! I- I can’t anymore... he laughed “yeah you can and you will, this tight little pussy needs stretching Lyric. He put his hand on your thighs and pulled your legs over his neck while he destroyed your cunt. You put your hand around his hands for support as you felt yourself coming close to your edge.

Dabi notices you tighten around his fingers and says “we can’t have my bad little slut cumming 2 times in a row” he gets up off his knees and turns you around so your ass is up. He takes your shirt off and fondles your titties, you move back pressing yourself on his dick “you’re so needy, you just can’t wait to have my cock inside you darling..huh?”

He teases your pussy by rubbing up against you, you sigh “please Dabi put it in I can’t take it anymore I want you inside of me !” He waste no time and starts ramming into your cunt. Dabi groans “your so fucking tight I’m gonna give you my baby” you cry “it feels so good DEEPER! please” not knowing what you got yourself into he puts his full length in you.

It was so big and thick that you couldn’t feel your legs, Dabi notices and pulls you up by putting one arm around your waist and the other on your neck. He turns your head around and presses his lips against yours...while saliva is dripping from both of your mouths.

You feel his cock twitching inside you, he knows your legs are giving out but he turns on his back and says “ride” you did as he said and started to bounce on his dick, he moans “f- fuck yeah baby girl cum on my dick” you kept riding until you couldn’t do it anymore you felt yourself coming close to an orgasm again but you fell on his chest.

He grabbed your ass and started to thrust hard into your cunt, you could feel it so deep in your stomach. You moaned “d- Dabi I’m cumming please give me your baby” you felt his dick twitching inside you and he released his load while his blue eyes were staring into yours.

You both exhale and lay on your backs he laughs “damn we just did that” you laugh “yeah...give me your number, I kinda like you. He says “yeah I like you too Lyric”. You guys exchange numbers and then you guys put back on your clothes..he notices that your legs are still shaking.

He giggles “I’m gonna carry you back to your dorm” you said okay... you got onto his back and you guys made it to the dorm where Naomi and Hawks were together. Dabi knocked and said “hey open up” !nobody answered so yall figured that they must’ve went to sleep together.

Dabi then carried you back to his dorm and said “well I guess you can sleep here tonight” you got into his bed and he cuddled you . Not knowing that you were awake, he whispered “I hope we can do this again soon, I know you’re the one.” You smiled and fell asleep with him.

[twiceinadream]

“My turn.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Nayeon (top) x S/O (sub) smut. Nayeon makes her gf (s/o) jealous but gets out of hand so she makes for it. Kinda soft please!

a/u: So this will be the only post for the week, since I can’t post over the weekend, because I’ll be away for school. But I hope you guys enjoy, since it’s pretty lengthy. But thank you all so much, and enjoy!

Category: Fluff, Angst, and NSFW (High School AU)

Word Count: 1.3K

What wasn’t there to love about, Im Nayeon? She was: pretty, popular, rich, and taken. It was like a shockwave that ran through the campus, when word of the “young and wild” (sorry) Im Nayeon had been tamed. And by you nonetheless.

You two were the power couple of, JYP Academy and no one dared to stand in your way. Well except for one. The all mighty jock of JYP, Yoo Jeongyeon. She was everything you would expect from one too: she was handsome, had great hair, and had every girl in the school falling for her.

And you honestly really wouldn’t have had a problem with her, until you found her with Nayeon attached to her hip and your girlfriend’s arm around her shoulders. You could feel your heart seize in your chest, as you watched them laugh; surrounded by all the kids who had mocked you, your whole life. It was just cruel irony that you ended up dating their ring leader; and ended up falling in love with her.

How blind could you be? You shook your head as you walked back down the hall, taking Nayeon’s scrunchie off your wrist and shoving it into your pocket. Forcing back the tears that threatened to spill, as you walked to your car; your phone lighting up with your girlfriend’s face as she called you, you wiped away the tears as you threw your phone in the backseat, driving home.

—

You woke up the next morning with dry eyes and a slight headache, as you looked at all the missed calls and hundreds of messages from Nayeon. Ignoring them as you got dressed for school; throwing your bag over your shoulder as you walked to your car, and drove to the one place you dreaded most.

You parked your car, as you walked to the front of the school, to meet up with your friends: the star student Park Jihyo, the cheerful Kim Dahyun, the free spirit Son Chaeyoung, and the ever quiet Chou Tzuyu.

A small smile grew on your lips as you spotted them, watching how Chaeyoung hopelessly flirted with an oblivious Tzuyu and an exuberant Dahyun bugging the hell out of Jihyo, as she tried to finish the work for her infinite amount of AP classes. You let out a laugh as you put a hand on Dahyun’s shoulder so she would face you, smiling as she brought you into a hug, “Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?” Her smile seemed to falter slightly as she looked you over.

You forced a smile, “Yeah. Why?” Dahyun opened her mouth to speak again, before she closed it; looking into your eyes as she squeezed your wrist, the exact spot where Nayeon’s scrunchie was normally placed. She frowned at you, as you were the only one to see it; a sad look in her eyes, before she let go of your wrist and a smile returned to her lips.

“Nothing, Y/N-ah. You just looked tired.” You gave her a small nod in understanding, as you sat beside Jihyo; looking at the complex work in front of her. You just shook your head at the amount of work the girl put herself through, she was already perfect but no matter what you told her; she always strived for more. But as you looked up from her, your eyes were drawn to the girl who had just walked onto campus, your girlfriend: Im Nayeon.

But your eyes weren’t just drawn to her, they were drawn to the jacket she was wearing. The unmistakable black and gold of JYP Academy, with the most notable last name written in bold letters on the back, Yoo.

Your teeth clenched as you watched your girlfriend walk into the school, seeming to not notice the looks she got as she passed, and the unmistakable star athlete right at her heels. Trailing the older like a lost puppy. But all you could see was red; and you were furious.

—

When the final bell rang, you got out of the school as fast as you could; the sound of your heart breaking echoing in your ears, throughout the day. But the second you got out, you got in your car and drove home. Finally making it to your room, as you closed the door and layed down on your bed, somehow falling asleep.

You awoke to a dark room, and the sound of tapping against your window; you listened to the rhythm of the taps, knowing exactly who it was. “Open.” You faced your ceiling, there was no point looking, as the window opened then shut. It took a couple seconds but the bed beside you dipped, as arms encircled themselves around you.

“What’s wrong?” Nayeon’s voice seemed foreign to your ears, her head resting on your chest.

“Why don’t you ask, Jeongyeon?” Your words came out with more venom then you intended, as you felt Nayeon flinch against you.

“I didn’t mean for that happen, Y/N. I just wanted the…” you cut her off.

“Attention.” Nayeon nodded against you, “Well you had mine.” You suddenly felt a weight settle upon you as you looked up, to Nayeon who began straddling you, her eyes were filled with hurt.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Nayeon placed a kiss on your lips, “I told you, I love you. Why would I go back on it for, Yoo Jeongyeon. She’s already dating, Park Jihyo.” Your eyes widened at your friends name, as you finally connected the dots.

“I’m a pabo.” Nayeon laughed.

“It’s okay, Jagi. But I feel like I really owe it to you, to make for what I did.” You gave her a questioning look before she began kissing down your neck. Leaving a trail of nips and licks as she descended. Her hands roamed under your shirt as you nuzzled into your chest, pushing your shirt up to expose your stomach; as she left a small trail off kisses downward. Your breath became heavy with every kiss, “Can I?”

You nodded as Nayeon flashed you a small smile, exposing her bunny teeth. As she unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, lifting up your hips as she brought your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. Leaving you bare, as she kissed her way down your thighs; as she ran her nails over your heated flesh. Slowly parting your legs, to reveal your aching core. Nayeon smiled as she gently blew on it. Giggling at how that made you tense.

No more words were exchanged as she placed soft kisses around your core, lapping at your essence as began to spill out. She carefully slid a finger into her trembling core. Every thrust of her finger was accompanied by a kiss, a suck, a lick, pushing her towards the sweet release.

Nayeon could hear the moans and gasps, and almost strangled cries when you bit her lip to keep herself from yelling out your lover's name and she savored every curse, both in your native tongue and not and rewarded you with another finger that slid into her over-stimulated bundle of nerves with ease, two fingers now doing their satisfying work until she felt the muscles around her digits contract harshly. The high came and went quickly, kisses and now slower thrusts accompanying the orgasm until Nayeon was sure you were done.

You breathing was labored as Nayeon crawled back to you, her face slightly wet with your juices as she brought her fingers to her lips, “Good as always.” You rolled your eyes, as you wrapped your arms around her neck, and pulled her into a kiss. Tasting yourself on her lips.

“You’re right. Not bad.” Nayeon smiled as she shook her head, looking down at you as your eyes became dark, “Well you had your fun. But now…” You flipped your positions so a very shocked Nayeon laid beneath you. As you leaned down to kiss her.

“It’s my turn.”

[madness-in-the-middle]

OH. MY. GOD.

So today it was finally eighth grade’s turn to trek down to the gym for the mandatory grade level assembly. When the call was made, the teachers dutifully shuffled about 500 twelve/thirteen/fourteen (fifteen in some cases) year-olds into the bleachers, and mostly managed to keep the classes together. The assistant principal over eighth grade, a very intimidating man in his early 30s, quieted the kids down and got the presentation started.

Just to give you an idea of who this guy is within the school, if I had to pick one person on our entire campus that every single kid both feared and respected, I would pick this AP. Not the overall principal or any of the other three administrators, but this dude. In a matter of seconds, he quieted down 500 eighth graders with not much more than a look and an intimidatingly spoken, “Good morning.” He plowed on through the general policies and procedures that the kids are expected to follow, delivered some threats about grades and behavior, and finally moved on to the district policies that the students, eighth grade in particular, are already having trouble following.

Up until this point, the majority of the students looked bored to the point of almost falling asleep. As the AP talked about tardies and the consequences that followed, you could hear a pen drop when he paused to take a breath.

Then he moved on to dress code.

Let me tell you, I did not think he started out well when he he called out “young ladies” for wearing pants with holes that are too big and too high up on their pant legs. “Have some respect for yourself,” was the message he gave the girls. 

The sagging pants I see on the majority of boys went unmentioned.

Oh, but he didn’t stop there.

He continued on to say that he, “didn’t want these girls that that were wearing pants like that to come complaining to him when the boys touched them, cause, let’s call it what it is: You are inviting that kind of behavior with how you are dressing.”

Me and every other female teacher are just standing there like....

At this point, you could hear the uproar in shocked and angry whispers go over the bleachers. Instead of reading that context clues to retract, change, or clarify his statement, he just told them to close their mouths. It took a minute to quell, but he got them back and just continued to roll through with his presentation.

My day continued on, and as more periods passed without mention of the assembly, I thought maybe I had understood a meaning from the statement that no one else had, and I just needed to let it go. 

Then, as my lunch period was lining up to leave, I heard one girl call a boy stupid. I just casually reminded them that just that morning, the AP had reviewed how they should treat each other with respect per our school motto. The girl immediately replies, “No, he said that the boys can touch the girls and not get in trouble because it’s the girls’ fault for how she dresses.”

I just......I have no words. The kids all took the exact meaning I did out of that assembly. From the mouth of arguably the most respected person on campus, they heard that girls are at fault when they are assaulted by boys. They heard that there is no use in telling anyone in authority, because nothing will be done and they will be blamed. I’d like to think he just misspoke and he didn’t actually mean what he said. But as one of the other teachers put it, there’s not much else he could have meant. 

After talking with some other teachers, I found out that they are equally, if not more, outraged at these comments. I don’t know how to make it better for these girls. This man is technically my superior. He is the discipline source on campus. He is the AP for my grade level. If I have any sort of schedule, grade, discipline, or testing problem, I have to go to him first. I have to maintain a working relationship with him, and it seems unprofessional if I say anything to undermine his authority to the kids. But at the same time, I don’t want my students thinking I agree with his statements. I’m just so angry for all of my students, and I just don’t know what I can do.

TL;DR - The assistant principal told all the eighth graders that sexual assault of a girl is her fault for being attractive.

[smartguyreviewed]

2x1 - Primary Brothers

Original air date: September 10, 1997

Season 2, what it do? Yes, the first season only had 7 whole episodes and now we are back. I hope everyone enjoyed heartwearming TJ in the last ep, because we’re getting a full push back into manipulative TJ. And what better setting for this little villain than politics?

It all starts with TJ, home from school and hoppin’ mad, slamming shit down and just letting his little lips pucker all the way out. The source of his ire is the broke ass science club at school. They have no money for anything cool. TJ, hon, you go to a predominately black public school that has no money for AP classes, so what did you expect? Go make some dry ice or something.

Floyd asks why Piedmont isn’t paying for its more intellectual extracurriculars and Yvette says the funds are allocated by the student council. It’s the reason why the Penguins got new gear even though their team is shitty. I get that Floyd is just trying to do his best here, but he’s completely out of touch by saying TJ should run for president. Yvette has to quickly shut that down by reminding TJ that it’s nothing but a popularity contest that a 10 year old has a chance in hell of winning. I personally remember when I foolishly ran for president in grade school. Quickly learned that nothing beats being tall, a guy and promising everyone Pokemon cards if they voted for you. This world is unfair, I tell you!

Even Floyd has to admit that Yvette is right, but TJ notoriously doesn’t take n for an answer and never accepts defeat. He decides to run anyway, with astoundingly bad results. These posters certainly don’t help. 

Yvette checks in on TJ after Mo chides him for not having food. He tells Yvette that he’s failing and she reminds him of the missing height and age that would make running easier. We know where this is going. In true political form, TJ decides to make someone his puppet. Enter Marcus, who isn’t interested at first, but the moment a cute girl shows up and strokes his ego just a teensy bit, he decides to run. TJ is so annoyed that he breaks the fourth wall.

Now we’re on the campaign trail and first up are the “science dorks” as Marcus so eloquently puts it. When they roll up on the clique, one of them actually flinches. I’m just confused because Marcus doesn’t seem to have a bullying bone in his body but apparently he pantsed this kid. Weird. After mispronouncing the name of a comet, Marcus gets clowned a bit, but reassures them that their issues will be heard.

Next up is the jock table and Marcus easily wins this one by promising them a peek at the new Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue after school. Ah, the days when you actually had to turn pages to get your fap on. 

Last but not least are the ladies. Now, if Marcus wanted to gain points in my book, he’d pressure the administration to get the girls free pads and tampons because they shouldn’t even have to buy them to begin with. Or he’d make sure to protect them from unwanted sexual attention on campus. But it’s okay because apparently, they don’t want those things either! All they want is a better sound system for dances. TJ is mad that Marcus is following his dick when the plan was to raise money for his science club.

Marcus however, has grown to like this and wants to continue to run alone. Good for you, Marcus! Don’t let that little pipsqueak boss you around. 

Yvette always seems to be around whenever she needs to point out the obvious to TJ, so here she is, reminding TJ that Marcus is popular and has a real chance at winning. TJ realizes he needs to nab someone else with that popular proximity. Enter Mo. Because TJ can’t just do one thing at a time, he figures he can both win this election and break up his brother’s only real friendship in one go. 

TJ is able to convince Mo that he’s in Marcus’s shadow because Mo is a lowly bass player and Marcus sings lead. But...it’s Marcus’s band! And what’s wrong with being a bass player? This doesn’t even make any sense for Mo to entertain because as we saw before, he clearly doesn’t even care what happens to the band as long as the puss keeps flowing. It’s really annoying to watch him blindly believe anything TJ says, especially when he’s not even really “friends” with TJ. Part of me would even think TJ is still mad about him getting kicked out of the band even though he deserved it. Wow, one bird and three stones, the third being possibly ruining Mackadocious.

Marcus comes around, being uncharacteristically mean to Mo and belittiling him for the plot’s sake. Mo naturally takes offense and now he has ammo to run against Marcus. TJ is a petty--yet brilliant-- little asshole.

At home, Marcus lets Floyd in on what’s been up and how he dropped TJ from his campaign that he didn’t even wanna run for in the first place. Daddy Flody is sad because for a moment because TJ and Marcus were actually getting along. Once he knows that Mo has replaced Marcus, he’s confused, The only one who wanted the damn science club fixings in the first place was TJ. I don’t get why he’s confused though. Doesn’t he remember what his son is capable of? He should totally know that TJ orchestrated all of this, but TJ just shrugs, pretending he doesn’t know why Mo of people is now his running mate. Do better, Flody.

Since this episode is about mudslinging and typical political treachery, Mo as TJ’s stand in is making fun of Marcus to the originally intended demographic. Yvette comes up to TJ and asks if he and his puppet are ready for the debate, and TJ deadass says Mo isn’t a puppet, “he’s a real boy.” Yvette just stopped by to say they’re filming the debate and she’s hosting. 

In the midst of all this sneaky fighting and smear campaigns, Marcus actually comes to Mo and tries to apologize for being a dick earlier. Aww, Marcus. Too bad TJ is about to shit all over this because he’s watching and once Mo hears this olive branch, TJ is able to convince Mo that Marcus is trying to bait-and-switch Mo to shake him up for the debate. Marcus insists that it is genuine but TJ wins Mo over by just telling him things to repeat. At this point, Marcus is over trying to be nice and says autonomy is the shit. Mo says fuck autonomy and leaves with TJ to prepare for the debate.

I love how Yvette leans into this husky, reporter voice for the television. She even put on her best two piece lilac suit. She introduces the candidates and is baffled when she realizes that Mo has had his extracurriculars beefed up. When Yvette asks when Mo was in all those clubs, TJ says since earlier that day and that he can prove it. I’m sure that he committed a crime here with these fake documents, but it’s pretty on brand for him to do, so whatever. The view count for the debate goes down when Yvette starts going off into how long each candidate has to talk about issues and honestly, I probably would have left, too. This is a high school student council election, for crying out loud. Her audience went from this:

To this:

Mo and Marcus get into a fight over the stupidest thing: who calls heads or tails. After they start elbowing each other, a physical fight breaks out. Again, TJ tries to break it up, even though he just, you know, only is the reason they’re fighting right now. Intervening gets TJ some new eye makeup. But TJ hasn’t learned shit because at home, nursing his black eye, he is still trying to manipulate the two into being friends again. 

Floyd has to remind TJ that hey, you can’t just play with people like that, even if you have good intentions. It finally sinks in that TJ could have very possibly ruined a friendship and broken up a band in one go. Floyd tells him to fess up to the boys and prepare for another ass whooping. Luckily, Mo and Marcus are guys and guys tend to resolve conflict--with each other--fairly fast. Mo comes over and gives something back to Marcus and just as he’s leaving, Marcus invites him back in to watch television. They chat and Mo reciprocates the olive branch with a pound. I really love these two together! They have so much chemistry that I honestly would be heartbroken if I learned that they stop talking after Smart Guy. Anyways, I ship it, Marcus x Mo forever. 

Stuff I noticed:

- Yvette is her middle name. Her first name is Tasha!

- Welp, guess the white guy is still president.

- Pretty sure this may not have been intentional, but I love that there is a black girl at the science dorks table. We love our black girl nerds!

[purplesurveys]

709

Just another names survey, because there’s nothing like looking back at everyone you’ve ever met at 11:28 AM.

Do you know anyone with these names?

Sara: I know a Sarah from my college. She’s kind of a friend-ish? Like I’d say hi to her if we pass each other in the building but I wouldn’t get lunch with her or send her a meme. She also goes by Chloe, her second name. Gabby: Pretty common name. My girlfriend is a Gabie and I had another high school batchmate named Gaby; I also had an old friend from the wrestling fandom whose name is Gabbie. The last Gabbie also goes to UP but I’ve never met nor seen her in the four years I’ve studied there, which is still such a weird thing to me. Rochelle: My Language teacher (it’s basically a subject that taught us English grammar) in the 5th grade was a Rochelle and she was a massive bitch. She is the manifestation of small and cute but terrible, and she didn’t like me and made sure I knew it. I’m glad she aged terribly in the last few years. Alexis: Apparently my Uncle Alex’s full name is Alexis, but I didn’t know until today when I read the obituary for my grand aunt who had just passed. Aurora Summer: I have an orgmate/coursemate named Summer. She’s nice but I think she’s a little lazy and doesn’t make a good co-worker in projects.

Peyton Bianca: Also a common name, but it’s a pretty middle-class/white girl name too. I knew lots of Biancas from high school and all of them are studying in the more expensive university just beside ours. Jordan Eliana: I don’t know Elianas but close enough -  we have a current applicant for our org named Liana. Liberty: Eh, noun names like this one aren’t too common at all where I live. Meadow Cheyenne Acacia: Nah. The only Acacia I know is the name of one of the many dorms inside campus. Laurice and Jo used to live in Acacia but their applications got denied this year.  Erica: I used to ride the bus with an Ericka but it’s all very hazy - I was only in Grade 1 and I think she moved schools not long after, so I don’t have a lot of memories of her. I had a high school batchmate named Erycka but I never liked her either - just seemed too uppity and had a bit of an attitude for no reason. She used to be Gabie’s friend so when the two would hang out I would fuck off so that I didn’t have to deal with her loud ass. Chantell Shawna: Gabie has a coursemate(?) named Shauna. I don’t know her and I dunno if I’ve met her. I think I have, but I never talked to her. Suzy Maria: I can confidently tell you a good 70% of Filipino girls/women have Maria as their first names. No one uses it as their main name though; it’s usually just given to complement second names. Gretchen: Eh, I know a couple of popular personalities with this name but no one personal. Isabella: I have a second cousin named Isabella but I’ve never gotten to form a relationship with her because she was born and is being raised in Australia. Isabela is also the name of one of Gab’s sisters.

Skye: Someone I went to high school with has a kid nicknamed Sky... Skylar: ...because the kid’s whole name is Skyller. Cecily Paige: Nope but this did remind of the WWE wrestler Paige. Autumn Arielle: I went to grade school with an Aerielle. We lost touch for a bit when she had to drop out for a bit and ultimately moved schools, but we’ve since reconnected ever since she got into UP. She’s taking up journalism too. Brianna: Callo’s third name is Brianna. Her chaotic behavior on social media had pissed me off in the last few months so I cut ties with her. A little sad considering how incredibly close we were in high school, but I just have to remember how annoying she’s been and I feel ok again. Cassandra: I used to go to school with a Cassandra but she moved when we started the 1st grade, so I never actually got to talk or be close to her. Like Aerielle, it turns out she’s also in UP now and she’s in the football varsity too. I see her sometimes but given that we’ve never talked, the most we’ve given each other is a look of recognition of being in preschool together lmao. We also had a batchmate named Kassandra but she lives in Singapore now. Small, sweet, and just the nicest girl. Cassidy Sierra: Aya’s second name is Ciara, which is pretty close. Some of us say it similarly to Sierra, and others pronounce it as Sha-ra, so it varies. Cheri Shariah Savannah Greta: My sister had a batchmate named Greta and I remember her mostly because she’s the daughter of my high school’s old theatre manager/director/I never actually found out what his position was called, but basically he used to produce all of our school productions. Leandra Lauren: I went to grade school and high school with a Lauren. We were close as kids but she changed crowds in like the 6th or 7th grade and we lost touch from there. Austin Samantha: Lots of Samanthas were I’m from; it’s a fairly common middle-class name. I used to be best friends with a Sam; I had a high school batchmate named Sam; I knew someone a high school batch higher with the name; and I also currently go to college with a Sam. OH and I also have a cousin with this name hahahaha. She lives in New York but she visited the Philippines a couple of years ago and I was able to spend time with her then. Shayne: My sister’s kindergarten teacher was a Shane and all I remember is that she was really nice and motherly to my sister who did nothing in school but cry because she had bad separation anxiety. Seth: I have a cousin named Seth, but he lives in New York and I’ve never seen him. He’s the younger brother of my cousin Sam. Scott Ryan: I have a uncle with this name but I haven’t seen him since I was a little girl. He used to live with one of my aunts but I think he has since moved back to our home province. Maverick: One of our org’s alumni is a Maverick but he goes by Mawel. I’ve always thought he was intimidating so I’ve never approached nor talked to him. Dylan: My sister had a batchmated named Dylan which I think is a badass name for a girl. Anna: I had several former teachers named Anna. Two of them taught AP (social studies) and another taught us algebra. Katie: I will sometimes call Kate this, but I dunno anyone who legit goes by Katie. Jessica: Went to high school with one. Was always too boisterous and a little fake for me. She also loved to surround herself with boys as early as when we were 13 and while that’s never wrong I just never vibed with people like her. Lydia: I don’t know anyone with this name but this did remind me of the Breaking Bad character who was always a little bit annoying. Ellery Dakota Epiphany Galaxy Ariana: I think Yumi’s sister is an Ariana, but I’ll never know for sure because she always just calls her Ari. Gabriella: My girlfriend is a Gabriela. Rachel: My math teacher in Grade 1 was Ms. Rachel. I don’t have an opinion on her but I remember one time when our class was too noisy, she got way too pissed off and she spent the entire 45-minute period doing sign language to us to be petty. I never did like her after that. Amy: I go to college with an Aimee but I never get to see her on campus because her whole person screams Ateneo. I have no idea why she just didn’t enroll over there instead looooool, her boyfriend and all her friends are there and she’s always hanging out at their campus it’s so weird. My late grand-aunt Amet was also called Amy by some of her peers. Marissa: This is the second name of Kayla, someone I go to college with. Her schedule is weird though because she went on exchange in Canada two sems ago and she’s supposed to have been back a long time now, but I haven’t seen her at all. I have no idea if she’s still even in Canada or is back in the PH now and is just keeping her whereabouts on the down low. Taylor Rebecca: One of Rita’s older sister is named Rebecca but she goes by Becca. She graduated from my college last year, so I’m pretty familiar with her. We’re not close but I’ve encountered her a few times before and she’s reeeeally pretty and nice. The few times we’ve crashed at Rita’s place she had always greeted us out of familiarity from seeing us in our college building. Ashley: I had an STS class with an Ashley but I didn’t get to know her all that much. Allison: I used to have an instructor named Allison but I think she only taught so she could have extra cash because she’s also taking up her Master’s in the same college, so she wasn’t that good of a teacher. I do remember finding her pretty though. Oh and she also got into a really bad car accident in the middle of the sem and we didn’t have classes for like a month, so there’s that. Madison Abigail: My mom is named Abigail. Zachary: I have a cousin named Zachary but he mainly goes by James. Gabriel: Yep I have an orgmate with this name but we call him Gab. He’s...a bit of a character. Either you can tolerate his presence or you find him plain annoying. Used to play his music LOUD in Skywalk which annoyed the hell out of everybody. I’m still not sure what to feel about him so I just give him a nod when we see each other. Mitchell Joe: I have a friend named Jo but she’s a girl. I don’t think I know any guys named Joe. Corey Shawn: I know a friend of some of my friends is named Sean but we’ve never encountered each other. He’s into broadcasting and has done hosting gigs and I think he’s a junior jock in one of the local radio stations as well. Carly: Carley was my old internet best friend. We first found each other because we were huuuuge Stephanie McMahon fans on Tumblr a decade ago and we’d do edits and read fanfic and reblog photos of her, so a really close friendship blossomed from there. She had a rough life those days with a bit of an abusive mom (who has since passed) and I’d video chat her in the afternoon when I’d come home from school (by then she was preparing for school, since she’s from the US). After a while her schedule turned weird and she’d be offline for months at a time only to resurface for like two days then disappear again. She did this for like 3-4 years until I got tired and just stopped talking to her. She’s still my Facebook friend and she shares a lot of memes, but that’s all to it now. Carmen: I went to school with someone who had a very lengthy name and one of her names was Carmen, but she goes by Pam because she also has a Pamela in her name. She does streetdance and I was classmates with her once but we never really got to talk. Melissa: Eh, sure. Someone from high school. Lazy ass. Stephanie: The only IRL Stephanie I know is this girl who’s supposed to be enrolled this sem and is supposedly a classmate of mine in several classes, but never showed up from January through March. And now the lockdown hasn’t helped her case either. Shannon Selena: I have a cousin with this name but it’s spelled Selina. Also she goes by Bia because her other name is Bianca. Christine: Fairly common name. I know lots of Christines/Christina but I’m only close with one, who’s my orgmate and is the VP for Membership for the org, aka she’s the one in charge of recruiting new applicants for the two sems that she’s in charge of the committee. Paula: I went to grade school and high school with a Paula. She was SO painfully shy and quiet but friendly. She studies in Ateneo now but I wouldn’t know if she’s gotten extroverted in the last few years. Harmony Serenity Tessa: My prof in PR was Ma’am Tessa. One of the nicest, softest people ever who’s always down for anything. I think she’s in her 70s now but she’s definitely still kicking and doesn’t miss a single basketball and volleyball game during UAAP season. Claire: One of my very first guidance counselors was Ms. Claire. I remember her being motherly and she was also the counselor that intervened when I had a fight with one student in third grade that was big enough for both of us to land in the guidance office heh. Ruby Rhiannon Harper Riley Brandon Brayden Mystery Noelle: I vaguely remember going to school with a Noelle in kinder but she only stuck around the school for 1-2 years so I have no memories of her whatsoever. Destiny Darcy Dianne: Went to kinder, grade school, and high school with a Dianne. She was quiet for most of the years but she had a really blooming glow-up in high school, where she was part of the popular clique. Super smart and she’s now in business school in UP; also a terrific dancer. Felicity Grace: I have a grand-aunt named Grace. She’s very sweet and funny and is doting towards her grandkids and her grandnieces and nephews, but she and her sisters have notorious track records in the family for having a bit of an attitude and/or for making scenes, and she’s the pettiest of them all given that she’s the youngest. Despite that, all in all I have a soft spot for her. Hannah: One of my best friends in UP. We first met when she and Macy (my old high school friend) transferred to UPD from UPLB, but in the end Hannah and I ended up becoming closer friends because Macy has since struggled to adjust to the transfer and has pushed people away in the process, including me. ANYWAY I’m glad I was introduced to Hannah because she’s one of the most hilarious people I’ve ever met. She’s also insanely talented and a hell of a performer. I’ll miss her the most when I have to graduate. Kayla: That girl who went on an exchange program in Canada that I mentioned earlier mainly goes by Kayla. I remember her notably because she’s the first EVER person I talked to when I got officially enrolled in UP - we were seated together in the welcoming assembly for freshies back in 2016. It was nothing more than a random encounter though and we didn’t end up becoming close after that. Liam: My cousin Seth is also named Liam. Morgan Natasha: I went to school with a Natasha but we all called her Tashie. She had a bit of a larger build than the rest of us which made her look domineering, but she’s really nice and is a big softie if you get to know her. She posts workout videos from time to time and has since lost a lot of weight in college. Nathan Olivia: My future daughter loljk Bailey Emily Amanda: I have an orgmate named Amanda. She’s mostly shy and reserved and I haven’t really gotten the chance to know her since she’s quiet and always has to head home earlier than the rest of us. Addison Adrienne: An old classmate from high school has had her third kid that she named Adrienne. Molly Siona: I don’t know Sionas but I do know a Fiona, heh. Emerald Chelsea: Yeah Chelsea was one of my close friends in high school. We don’t talk these days but we’ll sometimes react on each other’s posts on Twitter or Facebook which is enough for me. We used to have parties and drinking sessions at her family’s gazebo behind her house, so even though we’ve mostly lost touch I’ll always have fond memories of her. Naomi Bethany: A very very very VERY old mutual on Tumblr had this name but we mostly called her Beth. She lives in the UK and I remember her being a CM Punk fan. Had unique eyebrows but was super pretty and she used to post webcam selfies all the time. Brittany Hope: Someone I went to kindergarten with had Hope as a middle name but she went by Maezelle. Super blurry memories of her as we were never close, but I remember her specifically for her teeth lmao - she had some cavities as a kid so she had a bunch of silver teeth. OK just checked Facebook and it turns out she lives in California now, as do most of my batchmates who migrated to the States as kids. Joy: I know several people who have Joy as a middle name but don’t go by it, like high school batchmates named AJ and CJ. Jade Aaron: Old friend from high school. Like Chelsea, he was a part of our friend group. He studies in UP too and we’ll say hi and hug when we see each other, but we aren’t personally close. Andrew: Coursemate, classmate, orgmate, groupmate in several projects, and now my thesis partner. At first I found him annoying and a bit too invasive and extroverted for my liking, but I gave him a chance and he’s turned out to be a really amazing, loyal, supportive friend. He’s an extremely talented writer, singer, performer, host, and radio jock. Wimpy drinker though haaaah. James: I have a cousin named James. He lives with his family in Vietnam and since his dad is from New Zealand, he’s picked up a bit of an accent as well. Jonathon Zachariah Malachi Victoria: I had a classmate in a polsci elective with this name, but I called her Jillian during that time cos it’s her first name. Judging from social media posts, she mainly goes by JV. Solomon Sorin Celia Heather: Went to high school with a Heather and is actually attending the same course as Jillian ^ in UP now. We were quite close in high school and she used to confide in me about relationship issues, back when she was seeing someone who had plans of transitioning. Heather’s parents were very strict against the idea and went to great lengths to forbid her from seeing him, so yeah that’s what she would rant to me late into the night about. We also bonded over One Direction and Joe Sugg for a time, and those days were a blast. She also got me to be in a Twitter DM thread with Caspar Lee for my 16th birthday which was a HELLUVA SURPRISE lmao. I’ve never forgotten those days with her and I’ll always remember her fondly even though we never talk anymore. Ivy: My prof in feature writing was named Ivy. She’s... a meh instructor at best. She loved telling HER stories and HER experiences and narrating HER interviews with famous people, politicians, celebrities, athletes, etc. but she left a few lessons behind which is really what we all enrolled for lmao, so I didn’t really learn anything from her class. Jasmine: Someone I went to high school with. She was into K-Pop, J-Pop, and anime back then and I think she still is. We were always good friends towards each other even though we were never close close. She’s taking up linguistics in UP now. Jasper Kaylee Anica: An instructor from the broadcast communication department in my college. Nothing much to say about her except she weirdly tags along with one of the other professors ALL THE TIME TO EVERYWHERE, including the washroom. I’m definitely not judging but yeah, it’s what I notice first when I think of her.

[gaypanda]

Not Even Sunflowers Can Grow In Our Toxic Love Pt.1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Tony Stark 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Non 

Summery: It’s October in 1995, Tony Stark is 24. All he need is coffee and his lab. Then he meets Steve Rogers an artist. They fall in love. They face the world together. Yet, sunflowers can’t grow in their love, but that’s okay morning glory can. That should be enough.

A/N: Hello, Humans. This is a fan-fiction that I’m working on. I hope you like it. This will also be posted on ao3 with the same title. I will let you guys know there will be somethings that I will tag as I go. I’m doing this not to deceive anyone, but the tags would be spoilers. Any ways I hope you enjoy. 

He stayed in the lab until three in the morning and had a seven A.M class to attend. Sadly he couldn’t just skip it to sleep, because the teacher for some god awful reason gave a grade for attendance. Which meant that he had to actually go to class. In the hopes that he might survive the day he rushed off to get coffee. With coffee in hand he could actually be a person. Only to get to class and have the espresso-filled cup spill on all the notes he had taken that night. With coffee gone and notes ruined Tony end up falling asleep in class. After that two hour monstrosity, he was able to go back and get more coffee before his physics lecturer where he needed to be able to correct the stupid TA that was teaching the class. 

Once Tony entered the coffee shop only to see that they got a new barista. He looked like a blond Superman. Tony stood in line trying to think of a good pick up line to use on the blond man. Slowly the line got shorter and Superman got closer.

“What can I get for you, Sir?” Blond superman asked

“How about you tell me how to time travel from World War Two and my dad’s lab” Tony asked. Only to mentally scolded himself. Why did he think that a pick up line about his dad's failed super soldier experiments during World War 2 would work or make sense? God he needed coffee.”I mean can I have an extra large cup filled with just espresso and a dash of milk.”    

“Are you okay, Sir?” Superman asked while he wrote down Tony’s order. He had a faint smile on his lips.

“No, I need caffeine or I will die!” Tony said pulling out a twenty and handing it over to blond superman,”keep the change by the way.” Tony said as he walked a way to wait for his “coffee”. 

“Espresso for ‘Or I will die’” one of the other barista’s yell a little while later. Tony rushed over to the barista and grabbed the cup and went straight to drinking it. 

When he looked down at the side of the cup he say some writing on the side along with a number. ‘Your pick up lines suck maybe you should try again -Steve’

Tony smiled at the number. He finished his coffee pulled out his phone and put Steve’s number in it.

To:Steve 

I think it worked if you gave me your number. My name is Tony by the way.

Tony smiled as he walked to class. Maybe today wasn’t turning out to bad. Now he just had to deal with mister “I know more Physics than you do so shut up”. The man sucked at physics. Tony was constantly correcting his work. At this point He was practically teaching the class. This is what he gets for trying to be normal. 

After that god awful class Tony was done for the day. This meant he could go home and crash. He lived a couple of blocks away from campus in one of the larger apartments. He lived alone more often than not. His best friend Rhodey would took the guest room when he is home from the air-force. 

Tony meet Rhodey in high school. Rhodey got in the private school by scholarships and pure dedication. He had taken every AP class he could and then he took the test. Somehow he always passed those tests with nothing lower than a 4. By the time they graduated high school Rhodey was halfway done with college. He ended up signing up for the air-force and enrolling in MIT.Tony was proud of his best friend. Every once in a while Rhodey would stay at Tony’s. 

The other person who would stay the night was Tony's other best friend Pepper. Pepper was an intern at Stark industries she was better than the people that Tony's dad had working there. Pepper took no shit. Tony fell in love right away, but Pepper said that she didn’t date spoiled rich kids. From then on they were friends. Pepper calling him out for his shit, and him repaying her with expensive shoes and dresses. By now Tony had given her his credit card when he messed up so she could buy her own apology clothes. When people asked if he was scared that she was just using he for his money Tony laughed and told them if she was then she would have dated and married him. No, Pepper was one of his closest friends, and one day she was going to run Stark Industries. 

Tony smiled as he thought of his friends. Thinking of Pepper, he should ask her if she wants to come over and do a movie night.Tony pulled out his phone to text her when he noticed he had a message. 

From: Steve

You got me. Although what was that pick up line? You need to tell me that story. How about you do that over some dinner. What do say about 6 at the pizza place north of the art building. 

Wow this guy was smooth was all Tony could think as he read the message.

To: Steve 

Yeah I can do that.

Tony looked at the time. It was 12:13 which meant he had just enough time to eat quick sandwich, tell Pepper, take a nap, Pepper barge in help him dress, and get there by 6. Oh how he wishes that could be the case.

Once home Tony did make a sandwich, but only to have Pepper walk in. 

"You have a date, and I'm only being told now." Peppers eyebrow raised as she looked at him and his sandwich. 

"Umm, yea, you were informed the same time I was. Oh yeah his name is Steve. I meet him at one of the three coffee shops near campus. I was too tired to remember which one.” Tony said as he eats his sandwich. Pepper looked at him with disgust as he ate with food in his mouth.  

“Okay,” she sighed,” what time is this date?”

“6 o’clock”

“Do you need help getting read. What don’t answer that of course you do.” Pepper smiled at him. Tony know that she was proud of him for going out on a date with a guy. Tony for the longest time refused to except that he was bisexual. Howard, Tony's dad, was very homophobic. Tony who always wanted his father approve tried to push down the part of him that liked boys. Slowly With the help of Rhodey and Pepper Tony learned that it was okay to like both girls and boys. He still hasn’t told Howard and never will, and Tony’s okay with that.

Tony smiled at her before telling Pepper that he need to nap for at least 3 hours before he could do anything. Pepper just laughed as Tony walked to his room and crashed.

“Tony it’s 4 o’clock you need to get up.” a female voice told. Tony sighed, turned away from the voice, and tried to go back to sleep.

“Tony if you want to make it to your date with Blond superman. Than you need to get up and get ready.” The female voice, now Tony could say was Pepper, told him. With another sigh he open his eyes. Pepper was standing over him. Her red tied back in a bun, along with the suit she was wearing made her look like a mom. 

“ Pepper you look like one of those work moms that is waking up her kid for school, before heading off to work.” Tony laughed.

“God knows I’m not paid enough to wake you up for school.” She rolls her eyes and walks over to Tony’s closet to pick out his date clothes.

“You’re not paid to be my friend Pep. You just love me too much to leave.” Tony said as got up to shower. Stepping in to the bathroom Tony stripped. He turned on the shower and stepped in. The warm water helped wake him up the rest of the way. Tony stands under the hot water letting it wash away the stress of the day. After an unknown time Tony thought it best to rushing through the rest of the shower. When he got out Pepper had already picked out what he was going to wear. She had pulled Tony’s maroon dress shirt and a pair of black jeans.

“I own a pair of skinny jeans?” Tony asked side eyeing to jeans

“They aren’t skinny jeans they’re just jeans. Of course you own jeans Tony want do you wear in the lab?” Pepper respond with a raised eyebrow.

“Jeans but those jeans have holes and grease. Those jeans love me Pep. How did those even get in to my closet?” Tony said as he pulled on the shirt and a pair of briefs. 

“I got you them for your birthday last year, but never showed you to make sure didn’t get rid of them. Now put them on they will make your ass look phenomenal.” Pepper said throwing them at Tony only to have them land on his arm and fall to the ground. Reluctantly Tony put them on. Pep was right they did make his ass look great.

Once dressed Tony made his way to the bathroom to put on some makeup. After being in the public eye his whole life Tony was always having makeup put on him. In his teen years one of her girlfriends thought that it would be fun to do his makeup in the way that girls do it. After that Tony found he liked how he looked fully done up. From then on he would do his makeup for dates and parties. Tony decided to a simple look with only eyeliner, mascara, and a red lipstick. 

When he walked out he saw Pepper sitting on his bed. She smiled at him before telling him, “Now Tony you need to play nice with Steve. Remember that if wants to play you need to be safe. So don’t be silly Tony and wrap your willy.” 

“But mom all the other kids don’t wrap their willies.” Tony laughed.

“ Yes and look at where that got them. Pregnant and getting chlamydia, so lets- lets” Pepper couldn’t finish she was laughing to much. Tony at his friend at they laughed at her stupid joke.

“Okay Pep I need to leave if I’m going to make it on time. Also Pep I’m not the kinda guy that goes wam bam thank you mama.” He said as grabbed his wallet and keys. Before closing the door he hear Pepper shout

“Tony that’s all you did last year.” As she continued to laugh.

Tony walked to the pizza place that he had been told to meet Steve at. He stood at the door looking in and he saw his blond superman. Tony’s heart fluttered and butterflies swarmed in his stomach. Tony knew that this was the start of something amazing. With a deep breath Tony opened the door and walked.

[the--blackdahlia]

Natural Born Killers Chapter 8 (Sam x Dean)

Title: Natural Born Killers Chapter 9

Summary:  It started as an accident. That’s what it was. But things escalated from there and now the law wants Dean Winchester, one way or another.

Warnings: Language

AN:  So, after I wrote this chapter, I realized that same-sex marriage was not legal in California until later. So, let's just pretend this is an AU where it's a little more accepted/legal in the early 2000's.

Present

“Your file says you graduated from St. Joseph high school.” Victor said, looking at Sam.

“That’s right.” Sam said.

“Was this before or after your dad died?” Victor asked.

“Why does it matter?” Sam asked. “I graduated. That’s all that matters, right?”

“I’m just very impressed to be honest.” Victor told him. “I mean, you have to have had at least a hundred schools under your belt. You stayed at St. Joseph for about two years it seems. And then you graduated salutatorian and got a full ride scholarship to Stanford. That’s pretty good for a prime candidate for foster care.” Sam just rolled his eyes. “Tell me about Stanford Sam. What led up to it. All of it.”

****

2001

It was a few days after Dean’s birthday when the envelope showed up. Sam had applied at Stanford, as well as Notre Dame, UCLA, and some various Michigan and Indiana colleges. The trail of letters had slowly been trailing in. But this one was different. And when Sam opened it, he knew his life was going to change.

“Dean?” Sam said into the phone. Dean was at work. He was working a little later throughout the week so he could have his weekends with Sam. It didn’t always work out that way, but since he had proven himself to be such a good mechanic, his boss tried to work things out for him.

“Sammy? What is it? What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

“I have something big to tell you.” Sam said. “I don’t know if I should tell you now though…” Dean’s heart was beating hard. What was wrong with his Sammy? “De?”

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, his voice a little unsure. Sam was smiling, not that Dean could see.

“De, how do you feel about California?” Sam asked.

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

“Well, I got a full ride scholarship to Stanford, so…” Sam said. Dean was silent at the other end of the line. Then Sam heard him yelling and could make out words of excitement.

“Oh my god Sammy! That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Dean told him. “When I get home, we’ll celebrate! Fuck, I’m so proud of you!”

****

“I have to live on campus.” Sam groaned as he tossed all his information on the coffee table and dramatically threw himself on the couch. Dean looked up from the movie he was watching.

“Says who?” Dean asked.

“Says Stanford.” Sam said. “The only way I don’t have to is if I have proof I’m living with my parents, there are accommodations that I need that they can’t provide, or I have proof that I’m married or in a domestic partnership.” Sam looked up at Dean. “So I guess I’ll be living in a dorm for at least the first year.”

“Give me some time.” Dean said. “I’ll make sure you can stay with me baby boy.”

****

The big day came not too long after Sam turned 18. He was one of the youngest in his class it seemed, but he was so excited. He had made friends with a bunch of people over the two years he was there, and even walked with Kaelyn, a girl that was in his photography club with him. He had worked his ass off over the past two years, taking as many AP classes and activities as he could to beef him up to colleges. Him and Dean hadn’t been hunting a lot, but he wanted to make sure they never had to rely on hustling pool or anything like that ever again.

Sam gave a beautiful speech and man, Dean was so ready to jump up and applaud every word that came out of his mouth. Dean hadn’t graduated high school, so he didn’t really see the joy in sitting in a gym for hours while kids talked about following their dreams and such. But seeing Sam in that dark blue gown, standing up at the podium to give hi speech, filled Dean’s heart with so much love.

And then he got his diploma and Dean was on his feet, cheering his blushing little brother.

“So where are you off to after this?” Kaelyn asked Sam as they all stood around, hugging each other.

“We’re moving out to Palo Alto so I can attend Stanford in the fall.” Sam said shyly. He didn’t like boasting about himself. Only a few of his friends knew about the full ride.

“That’s right Mr. Smart Stuff.” Kaelyn laughed and hugged him. “Well, I’ll send you my address when I settle in my dorm at the U of M.” She smiled at Sam, like she wanted to ask him something, but Dean came up and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and Kaelyn blushed. She had a major crush on Dean.

“Well, I’ll send a postcard to your home address when I get settled up in Palo Alto so you have the address.” Sam said. “I’ll miss you Kaelyn.”

“I’ll miss you too Sam. And Dean.” She said, her face turning a bit redder. Sam and Dean made their way towards Baby. Sam had gotten pictures with his friends and they all promised to send him a copy when they were printed. Dean had a disposable camera he had gotten at CVS and the roll was filled with nothing but Sam at his graduation.

“I thought we could order Chinese and stay in for the rest of the night.” Dean told Sam. “The house we picked out over spring break is ready for us to move in. Dan and Tiffany are sad to see us go. They said we’re the best renters they’ve had in awhile.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Sam said, staring out the window. Dean frowned a little. He knew Sam had been stressing about the housing situation for awhile. If he could prove that he needed to live off campus, the money from his scholarship that would be put towards room and board would be given to help offset a rent or mortgage. Because Palo Alto was expensive. But they had found a cute little place not too far from campus. It was the cousin of Dean’s boss’ place, and he wanted to sell to head east.

When they got home, Dean placed an order at the Chinese place and went to their bedroom to watch Sam change out of the dress clothes he had worn under his gown and slid into some sweats and a t-shirt. Dean wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed on his neck.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” Dean murmured against him. “Go sit down and I’ll bring it out.”

“Mmmm, okay.” Sam said, moving away from Dean and settling himself on the couch in the living room. Dean took a couple minutes but came out with an envelope. Sam looked up at Dean. He had been getting cards and such in the mail from people like Bobby and Jim who wanted to congratulate him for all his hard work. Sam just thought it was one of those.

“You didn’t have to get me a card.” Sam said, taking the envelope from Dean.

“Just open it Sammy.” Dean said. “I called in a lot of favors for this.” Sam raised an eyebrow but opened the envelope and took out the paper from inside.

State of California Department of Public Health

License and Certificate of Marriage.

Samuel W. Campbell and Dean M. Winchester.

“D-Dean.” Sam looked up at him.

“Now you don’t have to live in the dorm baby boy.” Dean said. Sam laid the paper by him and wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him. “We have an official record in California, and I got someone to change your records at school to reflect it.” Dean’s heart warmed at the smile that spread on Sam’s face. “There’s something that goes with that.”

“What?” Sam asked. Dean grabbed a box he had set on the coffee table and opened it to show two black bands. Two black wedding bands.

“Gotta make it official right?” Dean asked, taking one of the bands and sliding it on Sam’s finger. Sam did the same for Dean. Dean took Sam’s hand and kissed the finger where the ring was. “Mine.” He whispered.

“Yours.” Sam said happily.

****

Two days later, they Impala was packed down with all their boxes and such. They had sold off most of their furniture, and rented a small trailer that could hitch to Baby for the things that wouldn’t fit in the car. They had not stayed in a motel since they rented the house, but they were going to stay in one on the way to their new home. Dean wasn’t entirely sure where they were going to stop off at yet. They had left early in the morning and stopped to get breakfast. But Sam was tired and napped on and off on the way. They finally stopped late in the night for a motel. Dean hadn’t had to pull all nighters to drive for a long time and he was a little out of practice. So he got them a motel room with a king bed for him and the other Mr. Winchester.

“It’s pretty much our honeymoon baby boy.” Dean joked as he kissed Sam gently. Sam just rolled his eyes and let Dean kiss him.

The next morning, he was like a ball of energy. They were so close, he could taste it. He would have about a month or so to get used to the house before he had to attend orientation and then classes. He had plans to do some gardening; herbs and other plants that they could use for protection as well as cooking. He had done a little with their next door neighbor in Michigan, since it was sometimes too hard for her to get done to pull the weeds. It was a great relaxer sometimes. Dean worked on cars; Sam liked to take pictures and work on gardening with Mrs. Tandy.

“We’re almost there.” Dean said as they passed through Sacramento. Dean couldn’t stop stealing glances at Sam. He looked so happy, so relaxed and Dean was so in love. Before they knew it, they were pulling onto Emerson Street in the Midtown neighborhood.

“I can’t believe we scored a house here.” Sam said in almost a dreamlike state. Their home in Michigan was very nice, but it wasn’t theirs. They were just renting it. Of course, their landlords didn’t mind if they painted or anything like that, but Sam wanted someplace that was theirs.

“Remember, it needs a little love.” Dean said, finding the right address and pulling into the driveway. They had visited the house and it’s previous occupants on Sam’s spring break a few months prior. The house had been empty for about a month now. Dean had worked extra hours and done a few kills to get the money to pay for the house, meaning that the extra scholarship money could be applied to fixing it up.

“It’s ours.” Sam said, a huge smile on his face. “It’s all ours.”

****

Two Months Later

“Dean, I’ve gotta get to the orientation.” Sam said.

“Want me to drop you off on my way to work?” Dean asked, buttoning up his work shirt.

“Might be a good idea. I heard parking is a bitch.” Sam said. “And I haven’t gotten the bus schedule down yet.” Dean smiled and kissed Sam.

“And you’re the nerd.” Dean laughed. “Come on. Let’s get you to your orientation.” Sam smiled. He knew how to drive, but he had just never bothered to get a car. Dean drove them everywhere and Sam was happy with that. Occasionally, he would drive out for things, but it was rare.

Dean dropped Sam off at the student center and gave him a quick kiss.

“If you need me to pick you up, call me baby boy.” Dean said. “Love you Sammy.”

“Love you De.” Sam smiled and waved to Dean before heading inside. They were all gathered into an auditorium and went over all the things that Stanford had to offer, financial things, etc. Finally, they broke for lunch. Sam sat a table by the window, looking out over the campus.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?” A kid asked holding a tray of food.

“Sure.” Sam said, looking up at him.

“I saw you at orientation. What dorm are you in?” The kid asked.

“Oh, I don’t have one. I live at Midtown with my husband.” Sam explained.

“Dude, lucky.” The kid laughed. He stuck out his hand for Sam to shake. “Name’s Brady. I’ll be at Florence Moore...I think.” Sam laughed and shook his hand.

“I’m Sam.” Sam said, smiling at him. “Pre law.”

“Business.” Brady said. “I’m gonna be a CEO someday. But I think I’ll need a lawyer like you to help me out.”

Conversation flowed freely between the two of them, and they stuck together for the rest of the orientation. They had a few of the same basic core classes, and they even got them at the same times.

If Dean ever had to be jealous of anyone, it was Brady.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @we-ride-with-the-tide @dekahg @marvel-af @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @strab0 @sandlee44

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23 @supernaturalwincestsblog @flamencodiva @sams-serialkiller-fetish @theas-bedtime-stories

Natural Born Killers Tags: @mysteriousharmony @webcraft4eveh @mereka18 @writinginthesecrettrees

[chasholidays]

Holiday prompt: Bellamy POV of Somebody's Only Light would be amazing!

Original fic here!

“I can’t believe this is actually the best way for you to find out your soulmate’s name,” Miller says, pixelated and slightly delayed over the shitty Skype connection. He’s examining the photo Bellamy sent of his back in the mirror, and Bellamy owes him a lot of beer when they get back to campus. “I feel like I’m on CSI or some shit. You literally sent me a picture to enhance.”

“This is how I know you’re an only child. I don’t want my sister to find out first. She’d probably say some weird name just to–”

“Clarke Griffin,” says Miller, and Bellamy’s jaw drops.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure. It would be easier if you just got someone there to double-check. Maybe Clarke is wrong? I don’t know, it’s your back.”

Right on cue, Octavia bangs on his door. “Hey Bell, how’s your–”

“I don’t have a soulmark! I’ll call you back,” he adds to Miller, and closes the laptop, tugging his shirt back on before opening the door for his sister.

She looks supremely put out. “You don’t have one?”

“Nope. I’m going to die alone. It’s not a big deal,” he adds, before she can say anything. “I told you I don’t care about soulmates.”

“Yeah, but–you really don’t have one? Did you check everywhere?”

“I did and I don’t want you double-checking.” He rolls his eyes, deliberately melodramatic. “Yesterday you were telling me you didn’t want one and all your friends were being weird about it.” His mouth goes a little dry on the word friends, but he thinks she doesn’t notice. She doesn’t really have any reason to be suspicious of him. “I’m fine with it, seriously. Soulmates aren’t everything. Plenty of people don’t have one and have perfectly good lives.”

“Uh huh.”

“I promise, I’m fine.”

“Still, you wanted one, right?”

“I was cool either way,” he says, and wishes he meant it.

Not having a soulmate sounds great right now.

*

The number-one thing Bellamy knows about Clarke Griffin is that she’s fifteen.

It’s obviously not her only personality trait, or even her most important one, but it’s the only one that can matter to Bellamy right now. Because fifteen is really, really young, and the more he thinks about it, the younger it seems. He doesn’t think he was even a complete person at fifteen, and Clarke probably isn’t either.

Not that he doesn’t like her, so far. She’s smart and sharp and interesting, not exactly fun, but enjoyable. Plus she’s always good for a random argument, which he likes, and she’s started experimenting with low-cut tops, which he’s trying very hard not to pay any attention to, even if it doesn’t always work. She is pretty, but, again, in the way where he’s very aware that she’s going to be in high school for several more years. By the time she graduates, he’ll be out of college himself and off in the world.

Even if she is his soulmate–and he got one of his own high-school friends to confirm that she is, after swearing her to secrecy–she’s not his soulmate now. And if, when she’s twenty, his name shows up on her, she’ll at least know who he is. She can try to find him, if she wants to. There’s definitely no way for him to tell her now that she’s his soulmate without feeling like he’s taking advantage of her, so he just doesn’t. He goes back to school without having said a single word to his new soulmate the entire summer.

Miller isn’t impressed. “You let your sister tell her you don’t have a soulmate?”

“What else was I supposed to say? Hey, call me in five years if we’re soulmates but otherwise have a nice life? Fuck, I’m not ready to be someone’s soulmate now, she shouldn’t have to do it at fifteen. And I wasn’t just going to make up a name.” He sighs. “If you have a better idea for what I should do, you can tell me, but anything I can come up with feels like–grooming, or some shit.”

It doesn’t take Miller long to think through that one. “Yeah, fuck, I don’t know. You’re right, that sucks, there’s no good way to tell a high-school sophomore she’s your soulmate. Sucks to be you.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Can you at least stay in touch? Like Facebook friend her or something?”

“I’m not going to sign up for Facebook just to friend an underage girl.”

“So then what’s the plan? Wait five years and google her?”

“Wait five years and see how I feel. I’ll still be twenty-five and she’ll be twenty, that doesn’t sound much better. Maybe give it ten years, that’s enough to not be creepy, right?”

“I think once she’s legal, you’re set. But what do I know, I’m still waiting to meet Monty the normal way.”

“I met her a normal way! She’s my sister’s friend, it’s totally normal. The timing just sucks. If O had met her in college, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It would still be weird,” he admits. “Depending on how old she was. But at least I wouldn’t have to be overthinking it alone.”

Miller pats his shoulder. “Yeah, this is basically the worst possible soulmate scenario for you. So–happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“At least you like her.”

He sighs. “Yeah, at least there’s that.”

*

As a rule, Bellamy doesn’t like lying. He does it, of course, about big and small things, but he doesn’t enjoy it, and having Clarke for a soulmate means he’s doing it a lot. For the most part, he can tell his friends the truth, but he feels weird telling people he hooks up with–it always ends up being such a long story, and people always want more details. It turns a quick, no-strings-attached fling into a long discussion about soulmates and the right way to deal with them and how age gaps change as people get older. Which isn’t always bad, but is rarely what he’s looking for at a party.

So he mostly says he hasn’t met her yet, which is what everyone expects him to say anyway, and if he ever wants to actually seriously date someone, he’ll tell them the whole truth. It’s not as if it reflects poorly on him; he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s trying so hard to do everything right.

On his breaks, he’s constantly aware of Clarke being nearby, of the possibility of seeing her, like a malfunctioning spidey sense that doesn’t actually tell him anything and just makes him non-stop paranoid. Since he still hasn’t told his sister about the soulmate situation, he can’t just ask her, and it seems as if she and Clarke are growing apart anyway, in the natural way that kids in high school do. And while there are definitely some advantages to that, it makes him feel antsy, too, unsure of what’s happening to Clarke in the months and years of his not seeing her.

When he does, finally, he’s not ready for it, of course. He’s home for spring break, not quite a year after he gets his soulmark, at the grocery store, and he literally runs into Clarke in the produce aisle, the stupidest meet-cute in the world.

Her smile is warm as she recognizes him. “Hey, Bellamy.”

“Hey, Clarke.”

“Spring break?”

“Yeah.” He wets his lips, trying to figure out something to say that isn’t an unhelpful mono-syllable. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like years since he saw her, and he can’t help studying her for non-existent changes. She’s just Clarke, the same as he remembered: blonde hair, blue eyes, the mole over her lip adding a lopsided charm to her smile.

His soulmate.

“How are classes going?” he finally asks.

“Fine. Pretty uneventful.” She holds up an apple. “Just stocking up for a road trip. Mom and I are doing a college tour over break.”

“Anywhere you’re particularly excited about seeing?”

“Brown,” she says, with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m a legacy, so it doesn’t feel completely unrealistic.”

“Definitely not. I hope you get in.”

“Thanks. You’re a junior too, right? Any idea what you want to do after graduation? Or is it too soon for me to even ask?”

“If everything goes well, I’m going to be teaching. But that’s assuming everything goes well, I’ve got certification and prep stuff to do first, and that’s not set up yet.”

“I figured it might be a little early, yeah. What do you want to teach?”

“History.”

“That sounds like a good fit for you.”

“I’m hoping so, yeah. What about you, any career aspirations yet?”

“Something art-related, still not sure what. My mom thinks art history will make me more employable, I’m not totally convinced.”

“I think a degree from somewhere like Brown will probably make you pretty employable all by itself.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“Well, uh–” He rubs the back of his neck, but he can’t come up with anything else to say to her. This might be the last time he ever sees his soulmate, and he’s done. “Good luck with–everything.”

Her mouth quirks. “Everything?”

“End of high school, college, college applications. All that stuff.”

“The rest of my life?”

“I’m not going to wish you bad luck for the rest of your life.”

That one actually gets a laugh out of her, and his stomach flips. Would he feel the same, if her name wasn’t on his back? He wouldn’t have been thinking about her off and on for all these years, but he thinks–she’s pretty, he likes her. There would have been something there.

“Yeah, I guess that would be pretty shitty of you. Good luck with the rest of your life, too.”

“Thanks,” he says.

If she wasn’t his soulmate, he probably wouldn’t watch her go. But he thinks he’d still want to.

*

Gina Martin feels like someone he might marry, in another universe. They meet his first spring teaching AP World History, when he starts going to a bar regularly because it feels like a healthier way to consume alcohol than alone (or even with Miller) in his apartment while he grades. It’s still probably not the healthiest thing in the world, but that’s fine. He was never going to be the healthiest person in the world, he was only ever going to do his best.

Gina is cute and flirty right from the start, but he does his best not to read into that. It’s her job, as a bartender, to be cute and flirty, after all. She does it to everyone, and he doesn’t want to get carried away thinking it’s anything personal.

It’s not like he has time to date, anyway.

It’s been about three months when some drunk guy spills a drink on her and she tugs off her flannel to reveal a gray tanktop underneath, low cut enough that he can see the curling edge of soulmate letters on her left breast. He can’t read the name, but its existence interests him in the way soulmate names always do.

Once she’s dried off, he says, “Do you like talking about soulmates?”

She thinks it over. “I do it a lot. Does that count?”

“Not really. If you don’t want to, we can skip it.”

“Having problems with yours?”

He’s pretty sure Clarke is older than twenty, by this point, but if she’s tried to get in touch with him, it hasn’t worked. Most of the time, he’s too busy to worry about it much, but every now and then, he’ll wonder if the lack of contact means she got another name, or if she doesn’t know how to get in touch, or if she’s disappointed, or any of a thousand other things that occur to him in his stupidest, most irrational moments.

He knows it means she hasn’t decided to talk to him, and that’s all he needs to know. Which is a good reason to try to flirt with a cute girl.

“I was actually curious about yours,” he says. “But I’m always ready to vent about mine.”

It’s not entirely true, but it does make her smile. She raises her eyebrows at his empty beer glass and he nods, so she refills it and slides it back to him. “Haven’t met mine. Your turn.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You two don’t get along?”

“No, that would be easy.” He drums his fingers on the bar. “I’m, uh–twenty-five now?”

She smiles. “You don’t even know?”

“It’s been a busy year. So, yeah, I got my soulmark five years ago, when I was home from college for the summer. And I knew the name when it showed up.”

“Lucky.”

“Not really. She was one of my sister’s friends, just finished with her sophomore year of high school. I panicked and told everyone I just didn’t get a name because it didn’t–” He sighs. “I didn’t know how to tell her. She wasn’t going to know anyway, it didn’t matter.”

“But she must be old enough now, right? To have her soulmark.”

“Yeah. But I haven’t heard from her.”

“Does she have any way to get in touch with you?”

“Google.”

“And you haven’t gotten in touch with her?”

“No. Sometimes I think about it, but–” He shrugs. “I don’t know what I’d say.”

“It makes a lot of sense to me. You lied because she was a kid, and now you want to come clean. What else would you need to say?”

“I don’t know.” He huffs. “I figure if I’m her soulmate, she’ll let me know. And if I’m not, I don’t want to make her life more awkward by bringing it up.”

“That seems misguided at best and actually stupid at worst, but I also probably wouldn’t want to call her if I were you either, so–what are you doing after this?”

He frowns. “After what?”

“Well, I get off in an hour, so–after I get off.”

The frown deepens. “Did that story count as a pickup line?”

“You’re cute,” she says. “That’s not new. You’ve been trying to not be a dick about flirting with me, we both have soulmates, you’re clearly a good guy. So if you want to go on a date sometime, I’ll take it on credit.”

“Credit?”

“Buy me dinner later and you can get laid tonight.”

He opens and then closes his mouth. “Sounds like a good deal,” he settles on, and Gina grins.

“I thought so.”

Bellamy’s pretty sure they both know it’s not going to last, but it’s nice for as long as it does, through their first Thanksgiving together. Octavia comes back from college to crash on his couch, and they have this awkwardly intimate dinner with just the three of them. Holidays have been weird since Aurora died, but Bellamy wasn’t prepared for just how much weirder it would be with his (fairly casual) girlfriend there. She’s so convinced that Gina’s going to abandon her own soulmate and marry Bellamy, and even if that was never on the table and Gina didn’t want it, it’s an awkward situation.

“This maybe isn’t the best idea,” Gina says.

“Yeah, I know.”

She bites the corner of her mouth. “I know that saying I still want to be friends is a total cliche, but I do still want to be friends.”

“Me too. I definitely don’t want to have to find a new bar,” he teases.

“Yeah, we can’t have that.”

He puts his arm around her, giving her a quick squeeze. “I still love you. Just not–”

“The same way you always have,” she supplies.

“Yeah.”

“We both knew what we were getting into. We’ve got soulmates who are going to show up.”

Sometimes, Bellamy can believe that. Sometimes, he does think that Clarke will just stroll back into his life someday, that they’ll run into each other at the grocery store or something equally cliched, and things will just work out like magic, like they’re supposed to, without this years long headache he’s been nursing.

Mostly, though, he thinks he missed his chance. That he was supposed to go for it back when he first got Clarke’s name, because whatever great celestial force it is that governs soulmates doesn’t understand age of consent laws.

But that’s never going to be the right thing to say to his girlfriend during a breakup, so he just smiles. “Yeah, we do,” he says, and tries to mean it.

*

Gina: Are you coming to the bar tonight?

It’s not a particularly surprising message for a Saturday night–the more surprising thing is that Bellamy was chaperoning a dance and hasn’t been checking his phone–but he still can’t help feeling a little suspicious. He doesn’t like Rocket Fuel as much as he liked her last employer, and it’s early enough in the year he doesn’t feel the need to go full alcoholic. Probably there’s some guy there hitting on her and she wants him to scare him off. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Me: I wasn’t planning toI had a school thingbut we’re done so I can be on my way overeverything okay?

Gina: Everything’s fineClarke Griffin is hereWe’re talking about you

Bellamy nearly drops his phone, and the effort it takes to not drop it makes him nearly makes him trip over his own feet. It’s about the least graceful he’s ever been, but–Clarke. Clarke is at the bar. Clarke is so fucking close.

He tugs on his jacket and starts walking before he’s even responded to the text, in a hurry to get there as soon as physically possible. It’s not that long a walk, which is the best thing about Rocket Fuel, as far as he’s concerned, but he still can’t get there fast enough.

Me: holy shit I’m going to kill youyou’re joking, right?

It doesn’t feel like the kind of thing she’d joke about, but it doesn’t feel possible either. There’s no way Clarke just wandered into the bar and started talking to Gina about him. Did she just tell Gina her name, or did Gina bring him up?

He’s trying to figure out a good way to ask if he’s Clarke’s soulmate too when the picture comes through, Gina with Clarke and an unfamiliar woman with dark hair in a tight ponytail. She’s lovely, but all Bellamy can focus on is Clarke, her hair shorter, her smile nervous, but still familiar. She must be twenty-two or twenty-three by now, out of college and in the world, in his world. Talking to Gina. Taking selfies.

Gina: That’s MY soulmate with her btwRaven ReyesAnd you are Clarke’s soulmate, don’t worry

Me: holy shitI’m on my waybe there in ten minutes

He actually runs part of the way, which feels excessive and a little pathetic, except that Clarke is right here, and his soulmate, and all he has to do is get to her. He’d run the whole way, except that he doesn’t want to be weirdly sweaty when he shows up.

She may be his soulmate, but he still wants to make a good impression.

To his surprise, she’s leaning on the fence outside of the bar, although it takes him a little while before he’s sure it’s her, and not some other blonde girl. The odds of that seem low, but the odds of Clarke showing up at Rocket Fuel with Gina’s soulmate seem even lower, so he’s not ruling anything out.

Once he’s close enough, he waves, and she smiles, pushes off the wall and comes to see him. He knew what he was expecting to see, knew what she looked like now from the picture Gina sent, but the reality of her is still a shock.

He clears his throat. “Hey, Clarke.”

“Hey.”

Ideally, this would be the point where he said something smooth and cool, some line worth waiting for, but his brain is still stuck on her face. “You didn’t want to be inside?” is all he comes up with.

But she laughs. “Honestly? No. We had an audience.”

“Gina said you brought her soulmate too, yeah.”

“My best friend.”

“Jesus. I can’t believe it.”

Her smile is impish. “Which part?”

“Everything about soulmates, pretty much. I’m, uh–” He pauses, reconsiders. There are thousands of things he wants to say, but one’s more pressing than the rest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. When it happened.”

Her response is immediate. “Don’t be.” She smiles. “You want to take a walk and tell me about it? That must have sucked.”

He inclines his head in the vague direction of the park, away from the school. All the students cleared out, but they could still be in the area. He really doesn’t need to be dealing with anyone else. Just dealing with Clarke is overwhelming enough. “It was–fucking surreal, honestly. I wasn’t expecting to get anyone I knew. Most people don’t. And I didn’t–” He shoots her half a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, you were cute, but you were fifteen, and you weren’t going to get your mark for five years. If some guy had come along and told O that, even if he was her soulmate, I would have kicked his ass. And now, teaching teenagers? Jesus. There’s a reason you don’t get it until you’re twenty. I still wasn’t ready then.” They walk in silence for a second, but he can’t help it. The question has been pressing at his mouth since he first saw her. “You really got me too?”

She laughs. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know much about you. I tried to figure it out. Why we were–why you were my soulmate.”

“And?”

“No comment,” he says, automatic.

“Oh, come on.”

She sounds so disappointed he has to laugh. “I liked you fine, okay? You were smart and intense and I felt bad for noticing you were hot.”

“I don’t feel bad about that at all,” she says, grinning. “You’re my soulmate, you’re allowed.”

It’s surreal, hearing the words. He was so sure he wasn’t going to be anyone’s soulmate. That this couldn’t possibly work out for him. “I still can’t believe it. I thought you might have my name, but–I figured if you did, you would have gotten in touch.”

She shrugs. “I thought you would already have someone else. Since you didn’t have a soulmate. I didn’t want to barge into your life and mess stuff up for you.” She laughs a soft, sheepish little laugh; he can’t stop looking at her. “You were mine, but I thought I wasn’t yours.”

It makes total sense, of course, but it’s also just the most absurd situation. And mostly because of him. “I would have liked to know, even if I had someone else. But I get it. I didn’t want to do that to you either.”

“I think you did the best you could. I don’t know—" She shakes her head. “I have no idea what I would have done if you told me back then.”

He grins. “Been smug as shit, I assume. I know all you guys had a thing for me.”

“Not a big one. Just, you know—normal teenager stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“Did your sister know?”

“About you? No, I just told my best friend. He’s the one who found your name for me. I sent him a picture because I didn’t want O to know first. Which was a good call, I don’t think she would have been able to keep her mouth shut.”

She’s going to murder him when he does tell her, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, he’s catching up with his soulmate.

“Where is it?” she asks, and he frowns. “Your soulmark.”

“On my back, just under my shoulder blade. Where’s yours?”

“Stomach.”

“So you couldn’t really hide it.”

“No. Are you—" She pauses, reconsiders. “I guess you date. You dated Gina.”

“Yeah. But I’m not seeing anyone right now. You?”

“Single.”

His stomach flips, like it always has. “It, uh. This doesn’t have to be anything, if you don’t want it to be. We can just be—“

She shakes her head. “I want it to be something. We should at least try.”

It feels like such a small word, like nothing new. He feels like trying his best sums up his whole life.

Then again, it’s turned out pretty well for him. He’s got a job he likes, friends, and a soulmate who’s smiling up at him, eyes bright with happiness.

He smiles back. “I’m good with trying.”

*

In the morning, he calls his sister.

Clarke is on the couch, dressed in his clothes, which isn’t a new kink for him, but feels new because he is completely gone for her and his previous scale of things he was into no longer applies. She’s been texting Raven for updates about her and Gina, and Bellamy texted Miller with the update that Clarke was in the apartment, but he doesn’t think he can get away with texting Octavia. Even if he tried, she’d call back immediately, and somehow put herself on speaker phone so she could yell at him most effectively.

She picks up on the second ring. "Why are you calling so early? Did you and Miller have a fight?”

“That’s your guess?”

“Wait, am I supposed to guess? I was just annoyed. You woke me up. Did something bad actually happen?”

“Nothing bad.”

She groans. “Please just tell me, it’s too early for this shit.”

“I lied to you,” he says, in a rush. “About my soulmate.”

There’s a long pause. “What?”

“I told you I didn’t have one, but I do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice is small, and he closes his eyes against the guilt.

“It had nothing to do with you, O. My soulmate–it’s Clarke Griffin.”

“Clarke?” she demands. At least she’s too surprised to sound hurt.

“She was fifteen, I didn’t want to tell her. Fuck, I didn’t want to deal with it at all. And I wasn’t going to make you lie to your friends for me.”

“You kind of did, though. You had me tell them all that you didn’t have a soulmate.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know it was a lie.” He rubs his face, and Clarke gets off the couch to wrap her arms around him, an unexpected burst of warmth. He leans into it. “I’m sorry, seriously. I kept wanting to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

She pauses. “So why are you telling me now?”

“Because she found me,” he admits. “And I’m her soulmate too.”

“Of course you are.” She doesn’t sound sarcastic, or even surprised, just matter-of-fact. Like there was no doubt. “You thought you weren’t?”

“Assume I’ve been on a downward spiral about this whole thing for the last seven years. I figured I was going to die alone.”

“That’s why you should have told me, dumbass. Or she should have! I can’t believe you two. You’re both ridiculous.”

“We are,” Bellamy agrees, twisting to kiss Clarke’s temple. “We must be soulmates.”

Octavia, at least, just laughs. “Yeah. No question.”

[writehardwhumpharder]

Deadly Class Fic. because we need more Marcus whump

King’s Dominion - prison, school, slaughterhouse, and now home. Marcus just knew that it wasn’t the street and that’s all that mattered. The fact that he’s any safer here than on the street was highly debatable, but at the school he had regular meals and a clean, warm place to sleep every night. But old habits die hard, and he found himself stuck in survival mode. Sleeping with one eye open and a knife under your pillow was a very good idea in a place like this, but taking half-eaten lunches out of the trash and hoarding whatever he could get his hands on earned Marcus some strange looks. However, there was one major downside to his new living arrangement, the strict no drugs or alcohol on campus policy. Here he was, laughing with his new friends, eating fresh food, wearing clean clothes, it was everything he could have wanted. But still, as the days stretched into weeks, the itch under his skin, the need to get high, never went away.

The students weren’t locked in the school at all times, technically he should be able to go out and score any time he wasn’t in class, but the walls had eyes. Eyes that followed him out onto the street at night, eyes that kept him in line. But that was about to end. When Marcus and Saya received their assignment in AP Black Arts to successfully stalk someone — not kill, thank god — naturally he chose the best drug dealer he knew.

“What are we really doing here, Marcus?” Saya whispered from where they were crouched behind a building. “I thought you said this guy was some kind of rapist, but for the last three hours we’ve been trailing him, all we’ve seen is a couple drug deals.” She saw right through him. Marcus didn’t even know why he bothered to lie to her.

“He is.” Marcus continued with his story. “He just uses the drugs to lure the girls, or boys, into dark alleys where he can make his move on them.”

“You, can tell me, Marcus. Did this man touch you inappropriately?” Saya teased with fake sincerity.

“Oh shut up.” He snapped. In all fairness a few have tried, but Marcus learned to take care of himself a long time ago. They continued following him to an apartment complex on the edge of town.

“I think that’s where he lives.” Marcus said, pointing to a decrepit building. Sure enough the man hobbled up the steps and went inside. Saya took the lead, edging towards the door with silent footsteps. Marcus wasn’t nearly as graceful but with the crying babies and loud shouting coming from above, he doubted it would really matter. They stepped into the stairwell which reeked of piss and cigarette smoke, the front door was not only unlocked, but it didn’t even close all the way. Their assignment was to follow someone without being seen and to get some token of proof which the pair planned to take from his place. It was ambitious, but Marcus had his own reasons for wanting to get into that apartment. They slowly walked up the stairs to the door they saw him enter. The sound of a T.V. carried out into the hallway, nearly masking the light snoring but Saya caught it and took it as her cue to enter. The drug dealer was fast asleep in front of the T.V., he most likely drank himself into oblivion. How he did it in the few minutes after he got home, Marcus didn’t know. But it sure made stealing from him a lot easier.

“Look for something small to take and be quick.” Saya said before they split up. Saya silently rummaged through the junk on his table while Marcus headed for the bedroom. He knew just where to look — under the mattress, under the nightstand, the bottom drawer of the nightstand, the closet, and if all else fails, the medicine cabinet. He found the small tin almost immediately and slid it into his jacket pocket without checking the contents. On the dresser was a thin “gold” chain, if you can even call it that. The initials RT hung from the middle. The man would definitely notice it was gone but he’d probably think he just misplaced it so Marcus held onto it and tiptoed to where Saya was still looking. He held it up for her see then made for the door. Neither wanted to spend a second longer in that shithole than they had to. Once they were safely on the street, walking back to the school, Marcus handed her the necklace.

“It’ll definitely get us an A, right?” He said smugly. “It’s not exactly proof of how much of a dick he is but that’s a stalking job well done, my friend.” Saya still seemed skeptical of the whole thing but if she noticed what he took, she didn’t say anything. Marcus knew that all she really wanted to was to ace the assignment so when they got back to their dorms they went their separate ways.

Marcus’s closet of a bedroom was only temporary but he relished every second of having his own room. Once he got properly assigned any chance at privacy was long gone. He locked the door and emptied his pockets. Opening the container was a nice little surprise, after all, he’d take anything he could get. Weed, crack, acid, heroin… heroin. Not his first choice but it would do, and he had everything he needed right in front of him. Marcus wasted no time heating up the poison and tying his arm off. Luckily there was a clean needle in the container so he didn’t hesitate to inject the heroin into his bloodstream. The effects were almost immediate. He wanted to just give in and let the drugs take him away but he forced himself to put everything back in the container and hide it before he drifted off. After weeks of being clean, this was pure bliss. The numbness spread through his body like a warm, heavy blanket. Marcus closed his eyes, dead to the world.

He woke up a few hours later, still night. But something felt… strange. He flicked the light on, only to be assaulted by a blinding pain behind his eyes. Bad idea. He turned it back off. He’d been careful about how much he took, but now that Marcus thought about it, he had no idea what the stuff was cut with. If the heroin was as dirty as the dealer he was in big trouble. Marcus’s mind still swirled with the effects of the drug, and if not for the insistent itch in the crease of his arm, he probably would have let the darkness take him again. Pulling a hoodie on to cover his arms, Marcus slipped out of his room into the dark hallway. His limbs were fuzzy and difficult to move but he powered through. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the hallway that he realized he didn’t know where he was going. He needed help, but who the hell could he trust to help him? Marcus couldn’t think, didn’t want to, but the high from the heroin was fleeting and left in its wake the feeling of poison shifting through his veins. The dim hallways were a mercy to his aching head, although they did nothing to quill the growing sense of nausea. The kind of nausea where you don’t know up from down and everything spins too quickly to keep up with. His vision swam in front of him but he managed to keep himself upright as he made his slow trek to Willie’s room. It was the last place Marcus wanted to go right now but Willie owed him, making him Marcus’s only real option.

How he didn’t get caught before he got to Willie’s room was an absolute mystery but man he couldn’t have been happier to see his scowling face towering over him. It was clear he wanted to have nothing to do this. Marcus leaned heavily on the door frame, trying in vain to appear normal and not like a drugged out homeless kid cowering at his doorstep.

“The hell do you want, Marcus?” Willie growled. “Get lost.” It was the reaction Marcus expected.

“Remember… remember that one time, when I sav-“ Marcus started, playing the only card he had left. Willie had heard enough to know that this problem wasn’t going away that easily so he pulled Marcus into the room shutting the door quickly. Apparently Marcus wasn’t prepared for the sudden movement because once the doorframe was out from under him he found the floor rapidly approaching his face. Willie sighed, out of both annoyance and discomfort. He was out of his element.

“God damn it, Marcus. You wanna tell me why you’re stumbling into my room at 2am, coated in sweat and looking like actual death?” Willie demanded.

“That bad huh?” Marcus mumbled from his place on the floor. “I think I used some bad shit.”

“Bad what? What are you talking about?” Willie was getting more and more nervous by the second.

“Heroin, some bad heroin.” Marcus said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world while tugging at his left sleeve to inspect the inflamed puncture site. The sight of it almost made him gag. Willie didn’t say anything for a few minutes. In fact, Marcus was already starting to fall asleep when he felt strong hands lifting him onto something soft, a bed, he figured.

“Okay first we’re gonna clean that, and maybe get some water too.” Willie said, wetting a tissue with some vodka he pulled seemingly out of nowhere. “Look man, I don’t know how to deal with this shit. So you’re gonna hang here and try not to go into the light while I go get Saya and Maria.” Fire raced up Marcus’s arm as soon as the alcohol touched his skin. He hissed, suddenly much more alert.

“Wait, don’t… Saya ‘ll just… and Maria. Wh- Why?” The words jumbled in his mouth. Willie gave him a strange look and opened his mouth to say something but next thing Marcus knew he was gone. Naturally he tried to get up to go look for him. Only succeeding in turning over face down on the bed. The movement was just enough to send his nausea over the edge and vomit trickled down the wood frame of the bed, most of it ending up on the floor. He’s gonna kill me for this, Marcus thought as he drifted away again.

“Oh my god?! What the hell happened to him?” Maria whisper-shouted upon entering the room.

“I think I know.” Saya said. Her eyes trailed over Marcus’s limp form on Willie’s bed. He was deathly pale and visibly coated in a thin layer of sweat. What was most concerning was that he’d either fallen asleep or passed out with his hand left in his own vomit. “I knew I should have kept an eye on him when we were at that drug dealer’s apartment.”

“I’m sorry, when you were where?” Maria questioned as she strode over to the bed. She took a nearby water bottle and emptied it over Marcus’s head, gaining little reaction besides a slight stir. “This is bad.” Saya reluctantly placed a hand on the boy’s forehead, eyes widening in shock as she felt the heat radiating from him.

“Okay, new plan. Willie and I will take him to the showers, you can go sneak into the poisons classroom and get that stuff Mr. Denke keeps for emergencies.” She said to Maria.

“We didn’t have a first plan.” Maria pointed out as she quietly snuck out into the hallway. Now all Saya had to do was figure out how they were going to drag Marcus halfway across the school without being seen.

“I got it, just open the door.” Willie said, throwing the limp boy over his shoulder with ease. Saya went ahead of them, making sure the coast was clear every time they turned a corner. When they got to the showers Maria was already there waiting for them. They stripped his hoodie and socks off before leaning him against the tiled wall.

The cold water yanked Marcus back to reality in maybe the most unpleasant way possible. His first thought was that he was drowning, but his surroundings slowly came into focus. Shaking from the cold, Marcus fought to get out from under the stream of ice cold water but someone held him there. A second person started shoving some foul tasting sand into his mouth. Marcus swallowed some against his will before spitting the rest out as soon as the person, — no, Maria — let go of him. He still felt awful but whatever she had given him seemed to be working.

“What’s going on?” He said through chattering teeth. It wasn’t until he looked down at his exposed arms that he remembered what happened. Saya, mercifully, turned the water off.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, you stupid capullo.” Maria said, crossing her arms in annoyance. Saya and Willie had similar looks. Marcus stared down at the last of the water swirling down the drain, letting the shame and embarrassment sink in. He wouldn’t meet their eyes and instead brought his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself.

“Feel free to come clean up my room when you’re done sulking.” Willie said as he turned to leave, Maria right behind him. When Marcus looked up again it was just him and Saya left in the shower room.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked. Saya looked like she genuinely didn’t know. Part of her cared, the other part just felt obligated since she was the one that convinced him to join King’s Dominion. “I guess you were right.” Marcus said after a few long seconds.

“About what?”

“I’m not alone.” He said, his voice barely a whisper. Saya was caught off guard when he reminded her of their intimate moment on the tower.

“I’m always right.” She said, unable to agree or disagree, because either would require some expression of emotion. While tossing a dry towel at him something that looked dangerously close to a smile spread across her face. “Come on.” Marcus dried his soaking wet clothes as best he could and followed her out.