#floristic championship

[missjomarch]

catching flights

luca fantilli x reader word count: 1.5k warnings: none :) just fluff a/n: unedited and first writing in a while. I needed something to force the writers block out of me :')

You anxiously drummed your fingers against your arm rest as you glanced out the window for what felt like the millionth time. It had been about 10 minutes since the flight attendant announced that the plane would be landing soon, instructing everyone to fasten their seatbelts. However, it wasn't the landing that had your heart pounding.

You hadn't seen your family or your boyfriend, Luca, in 5 months. Originally, you had been ecstatic to embark on your study abroad trip to France. But you had been entirely unprepared for how much you would miss the people back home, Luca especially.

Having moved from your home in New York to Michigan for college, you were accustomed to being distanced from your family. However, you'd been with Luca almost everyday for the past year and a half. While you two had never navigated a long distance relationship, you were both confident your relationship could survive the trip.

You had planned the whole thing out, scheduling FaceTime dates often and promising to update each other pictures throughout the week (yours were admittedly a lot more interesting). Luca even had flowers delivered to you from a local florist in France on multiple occasions. Your love didn't dwindle with the distance, but it was the smaller things the two of you didn't account for prior to the trip.

Both of you struggled with the time difference, of course, but being without each others support on the hard days was the most difficult part. You couldn't go curl up in Luca's bed after a bad day, or meet him for coffee during your class break. There were no pregame naps or post win parties to be had. But the absolute worst part was missing hockey playoffs.

Luca was always incredibly hard on himself after a loss, and the playoffs only amplified this. You had to watch through your phone screen as he broke down after losing in the championship. You didn't think it could get worse than the lose to Quinnipiac the year before, but somehow it had. You did your best to comfort him from afar, but it shattered your heart seeing his pain and being unable to just be there. Not only did it pain you to see Luca's defeat, but the rest of the boys as well. The team had become your family, most of the boys even referred to you as 'mom', and you hated being unable to comfort them.

After that night in April, time seemed to go by a little quicker, and you were now finally headed home. You had begun counting down the days until your return the second your plane landed in France. And, despite him chastising you for this, so had Luca. But the day had finally come, and Luca would be waiting to pick you up and the airport.

He had texted you that morning to let you know he'd be picking you up instead of your mom. To say you were excited would be a drastic understatement. Originally, he wasn't going to be able to come see you in New York until 2 weeks after your arrival because of a golf trip with 'the boys'. But, in his words, he "missed you too much". So he skipped the trip to come welcome you home instead.

The plane landed at the airport right on schedule, and you quickly grabbed your carry-on before making your way to baggage claim. After you told Luca you had landed, he sent you the location of where he'd be waiting. You were about to burst with excitement, entirely prepared to grab your bag and haul ass to the airport lobby.

However, as you descended on the escalator you noticed a familiar blond smiling up at you. Luca had already grabbed your bags, and was waiting for you near a bench in the corner.

You couldn't stop the wide grin that formed, and you had to refrain from toppling over the people in front of you on the escalator. As soon as you reached the bottom, you were sprinting towards him.

"Lu!" you shouted, dropping your bags and practically tackling your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your legs found his waist, and you were finally reunited. You had promised yourself that you wouldn't get overly emotional, but you could feel the tears that were beginning to well. Luca chuckled as you clung to him, wrapping his arms around you to return the tight embrace.

"There's my girl," Luca mumbled into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume for the first time in months.

You couldn't care less about the attention you had attracted with your dramatic display. It was just you and Luca in the world right now, that's all that mattered. You basked in his embrace for what felt like hours. He didn't release his hold until he heard your sniffles, only then did he pull away to look at your tear streaked face.

A look of concern crossed his face, "Hey, no tears. What's that all about?"

"I just really missed you," you mumbled, slightly embarrassed by your level of emotion.

Luca had set you down now, and his hands came up to brush your hair from your face before resting on your cheeks. A small smile played at his lips.

"I missed you too, love. But there's no need for tears. You're back with me now, yeah?" You nodded in response, sending a small smile back. "And you're literally not going to be able to get rid of me for the entire summer. You're gonna be tired of me before the month is over."

You shook your head at this, "I could never get tired of you, Lu."

Luca didn't respond, instead leaning down to give you a long overdue kiss. Your hands made their way to grab where his wrists rested by your face. You pulled away before the kiss could get too intense, but you both still pulled away breathing heavily.

Luca rested his forehead against yours, "God, I missed that so much."

"Really?" You scoff, playfully shoving his shoulder, "Is that all I'm good for Fantilli?"

"Well I definitely didn't miss your attitude," Luca rolled his eyes, only to be met with you smacking him across the head. He quickly corrected himself.

"Ouch. I mean of course not, baby. I love everything about you."

"That's what I thought." You were about to place another kiss to your boyfriend's lips when an all too familiar voice sounded to your left.

"You guys can't seriously be fighting already."

"Come on Fants, she just got back."

You look to find none other than Seamus and Rutger approaching you. You gasp, quickly wiggling out of Luca's hold to throw your arms around the boys.

"MY BABIES!!" You exclaim, practically jumping with excitement. Luca stands to the side, jaw dropped as he watches the interaction.

"Damn, Fantilli. We've done stole your woman," Rutger pokes at Luca, giggling at the scowl on your boyfriend's face.

"You two were supposed to wait in the car," Luca grumbles, voice exposing his mild jealousy.

"And miss this reaction? Not a chance, bro."

Luca only glares at Seamus, turning to wrap his arm around your waist. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple before mumbling a "surprise" in your ear.

"Careful, Lu. You're looking a bit green." You whisper back to your boyfriend.

Luca groans, "The least they could do is give me 15 minutes alone with my girlfriend. Who I haven't seen in 5 months, in case you forgot." Luca sends a pointed look to the two boys standing before you.

They both just shrug, throwing their hands up in mock surrender.

"Neither have we, bro. That's our mom. It's on you for bringing us along," Rutger says.

"And I'm sure you guys will get plenty of alone time tonight," Seamus suggests, winking at you.

"Okayyyy, that's enough of that," You joke, "I'm going to guess this means the boys trip wasn't actually canceled on my account."

"More like relocated," Luca responds with an innocent smile. You just roll your eyes, nodding in acceptance.

"We promise not to steal him away too much, y/n. Don't you worry."

You let out a small laugh, "thanks shea."

Turning to Luca, you yawn slightly. "I am incredibly jet lagged though, so can we go home?" Luca nodded, turning to grab your bags. You stop him, and he looks back at you confused.

You jerk your head to the two idiots behind you, "let them get it."

"I think your thinking," Luca smiles at you before intertwining his hand with yours. The boys grumble, but pick up your luggage nonetheless. They complain the entire way to the car, only to be met with your apathy.

"You two are the ones who decided to come inside. You could've been sitting pretty in the car instead," you smarted back. This shut them up quickly, and you looked up to find Luca grinning at you.

"What?"

"I missed you so much."

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Behind The OC Name

Thank you @kaitaiga @alypink @welldonekhushi @revnah1406 for the tag! Let's do this!

OKAY. I'm gonna turn into a bachelor of yappology here so bear with me ☝️🤓

🌹 Charlotte 'Jade' Le Jardin 🌹

Initially, I wanted to name her 'Roxanne'. Some of you might know this, but Jade used to be my original story's main character called Louisa. BUT, Louisa's initial name was Roxanne. I didn't know why, but elementary school me liked Roxanne so much (I didn't even know that it's also a song title by The Police back then HAHAH). I wanted a very recognizable name, but I think it was a bit much, so I switched to Charlotte because of Charlotte Bronte, the writer. Also, it turns out that 'Charlotte' means 'free man', it's pretty cool since Jade's story is mainly about breaking free from MI6's influence and shackles along with her parents. Meanwhile, Le Jardin was the result of Jade's family's occupation as a florist. I mean, it's a fake last name anyway as they were making an entirely new identity after escaping from MI6.

Jade was literally just because she had a green eyes, but I felt it's too cliche so I made an entirely new black division of MI6 where each agent is named of a type of ore/jewel. Plus, Jade is just easy to pronounce and recognizable, perfect for communication purpose!

🐞 Eleanor 'Ladybug' Graham 🐞

Eleanor's name came up just out of the blue from my mind. I drew Lady's design first, and then decided to make a name for her, and it's either Eleanor or Claudia, and I thought Claudia doesn't suit her at all, so I stayed with Eleanor. Eleanor means 'Light-hearted' or 'shining light', kind of goes along with her 'take-it-easy' attitude and how she's a medic and becomes the light of hope for the wounded. The surname Graham is literally just my obsession with Will Graham from Hannibal. My 14-16 year old ahh was obsessed with NBC Hannibal, and Will held a special place in my heart LOL.

When I created Ladybug, I knew I wanted a special and a cheeky callsign for her to pair with Gaz. I never really liked bugs, but I thought back then that a ladybug's shape and pattern is so damn cute and endearingly silly. So I just went with Ladybug. AND THEN, The NFC Championship 2023 game happened between 49ers vs Lions. Brandon Aiyuk caught a pass from Brock Purdy after the ball straight up bounced from Kindle Vildor's helmet, which resulted in a touchdown in the next play. At the interview post game, Aiyuk said "a ladybug landed on my shoe." JUST THEN I KNEW THAT LADYBUG MEANS 'GOOD LUCK'. And then the gears on my brain turned, and I can connect with how Gaz is always unfortunately hanging/falling from an aircraft, be it an airplane or a helicopter. The fact that he's always came out ALIVE after those events just tell me, there's gotta be a ladybug that's always with him 24/7!

🔥 Barandos 'Bara' Tarigan 🔥

For Bara, I just KNOW that his name's gotta be Bara because there's a celebrity chef from Indonesia called Bara Patirajawane, and it's such a sick name that I just had to make it into a name of my OC HAHAH. Bara also means 'fire embers' and it's pretty cool ngl. Tarigan is a Batak tribe surname (I'm half Batak from my name), so I just wanna have that element on my OC.

⏳ Silja Freyrsdottir ⏳

For Silja, I actually had quite a hardtime to name my OC. I didn't know what her appeareance yet, her story yet, and like what her role was in the God of War Ragnarok storyline. So I started to think of what goddess she was, and I wanted it to be close to Heimdall, so the Goddess of Memory and Remembrance it was. I then searched for that kind of god in the Norse mythology, and I didn't really find anyone that came close to what I imagined, so I just started from sratch. I sketched her character, and as I draw her I make up a story in my mind. Oh, she's an adventurer, a rogue princess, hmmm from what realm, Alfheim? Let's do that cuz I love Freyr. I wanted her name to be either 'Silja' which ironically means 'blind', or Ragnhild, which means 'battlecounsel'. QUICKLY I feel that Ragnhild sounded to professional for her adventurous character. Silja sounded so right, and her name could be like a contradiction to what her ability is, which is seeing people's pasts, but blind to the present (a flaw much like Heimdall's).

Tagging YOU 🫵 Reblog this with your OC's name lore!

[elf-kid2]

Role-Reversal AU's are fun, and good for a thought-exercise and character exploration... And it's interesting when you come across characters who simply Will Not Work in a Role-Reversal scenario!

Helluva Boss is a good example of that. Specifically, Blitz and Stolas.

"What if the roles were reversed? What if Blitz was old-money Demon Royalty, and Stolas was a struggling business owner with a complicated (& star-studded) backstory?"

-Well, for starters, Blitz would not be the person he IS if he were Old Money Royalty! His entire PERSONALITY was FORGED in the fires of poverty, active competition, substance abuse, dreams of upward mobility, and a world trying to keep him down!

Take away his specific trauma's and give him a different set?! He becomes a WHOLE DIFFERENT CHARACTER!

"Stolas grew up in a Circus, instead of a Gilded Cage--!" Okay, so was he a clown, an acrobat, a fortune teller, or what,? How do you fit this rich-boy from the poetry group into the mould of a Carnie?

He is a nepo-baby; he is a student who was pressured to Study Hard so that he could earn that Law Degree without Father having to bribe the University; his whole life was planned for him without his input. How do you re-write him into a self-made man who chose to leave the Family Business and take his career in an entirely different direction.

You might as well have a different character!

.

If I were to imagine Blitz as Demon Royalty, he would be a warlord, some Foot soldier or General who took the throne in a bloody coup during some ongoing conflict.

Cavalry with bloodied swords, not 8th-generation Fencing School championships at the Country Club.

.

Likewise, I can imagine Stolas in the working class-- perhaps as a florist, or some kind of clerk or secretary with a Stressful Desk Job, trying to support their teenage daughter, convinced that they're way to old for their "Cinderella Story" to ever actually happen...

But I have to change things, see? I can't simply put one into the other's shoes, because they never would've grown into the people they are now, if they're been wearing those boots from the start.

You're?

[racingliners]

hiiiiiiii, 11 + sewis :D

hi!!!!!!! this was literally the first thing that popped into my head so I just ran with it, I hope you like it! 💚

sewis + "This must be a mistake" - send me a prompt!

Lewis returned to his apartment building just before eleven. He’d intentionally slept in, deciding to do his early morning jog at mid-morning instead. Monaco weather was more temperate in October so he would get away with it without suffering too much, unlike in the summer where he would have to make a stop to dip in the sea to cool off.

He smiled at the concierge on duty and was halfway over to the lift when the concierge called out to Lewis, stopping him in his tracks.

“Pardon me Monsieur Hamilton, these came for you while you were out.” The concierge delicately lifted a bouquet of flowers from under his desk. It wasn’t ostentatiously massive, but it wasn’t small either, whoever sent it clearly went to some kind of trouble.

“For me, are you sure?” Lewis even pointed at himself just to make sure there wasn’t another Lewis Hamilton in the building that was due a bouquet of flowers.

“Oui, I know the florist in Nice they came from.”

“Alright then,” Lewis went over to the desk, as he accepted the flowers he asked if there was anything else, and the concierge just shook his head. “Thanks, have a good day.”

“And you!” Lewis strolled over to the lift with the flowers nestled in the crook of his elbow and he pressed the polished gold button for his floor. Thankfully for his sake no one else stepped in along the way up or was in the corridor when Lewis exited the lift and walked the few short paces to his door.

The apartment was empty thanks to Angela offering to take Roscoe and Coco for a walk round the marina, so Lewis bolted the safety chain and went into the kitchen to look for a vase. It took him five cupboards to find one, clear glass shaped in a perfect cylinder that he half-filled with cold water from the kitchen sink.

He assumed the flowers were from Mercedes, a small token of their congratulations on his sixth championship win. And it made sense for them to get a florist in Nice to deliver flowers to Lewis as opposed to him getting them at the factory leaving Lewis to worry about the logistics of getting a bouquet through the French-Monaco border.

The flowers had been wrapped in brown paper as opposed to plastic and was tied together with a small red bow. Lewis didn’t know much about flowers but he recognised the blush pink peonies and light purple dahlias as he gently put the bouquet in the vase, small white and blue flowers filled out the rest of the bouquet alongside some greenery. It was too beautiful to be left in the kitchen, so Lewis carried the vase through to the living room and set it down on the coffee table, and he picked the white card off the plastic clip to read it.

Congratulations on your sixth world title

Call me when you get these

Seb x

Lewis almost dropped the small white card and fell backwards onto the sofa, but somehow he both stayed upright and kept a hold of the small white card.

“This has to be a mistake.” He muttered to himself as he examined the writing more closely. He read it another three or four times, each time feeling more convinced that the handwriting could only have been Sebastian’s.

So why did he sign the card off with a kiss?

Lewis frantically looked around for his phone, only for it to still be in his pocket. He quickly found Seb in his contacts and pressed the green dial button, pressing his phone firmly against his ear.

With each passing ring Lewis’ heart started to beat faster and faster, to the point he was worried it would fly out of his chest and land somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.

The flowers didn’t make any sense. Seb had sought out Lewis in the paddock in Austin to say congratulations with a bright smile and a hug as warm as the midday sun, so why did he feel a need to send them? Lewis had unknowingly started pacing by the time Seb picked up.

“Lewis!” It didn’t feel right, but Lewis could swear that Sebastian sounded nervous. “Hi.”

“Hey man,” Lewis tried his best to sound like nothing in the world was bothering him, even though he was still clinging into the small card for dear life. “Listen um, this might sound a bit weird but…” He paused to briefly glance over at the flowers. Whoever they were from, they were beautiful. “Did you…” Lewis could feel beads of sweat start to form on the back of his neck, he’d never felt so ridiculous in all his life. “Did you have flowers sent to my apartment?” The words flew out of his mouth so fast it almost didn’t sound like a proper sentence.

“Yes, I did.” Yet somehow Seb managed to make sense of them. “If you hate them I can go back to the florist and ask for something different.” Lewis could hear the forced smile in Sebastian’s voice, he hated it.

“They’re gorgeous Seb.” He said softly, as his legs finally gave way and he sat down on the edge of the sofa. “You wrote on the card to call you when I got them, so…”

Where did you begin when the man you had fought so hard for the championship twelve months ago had sent flowers for another championship win a year later.

“I’m in Nice.” Seb said quietly, like it was a secret meant just for them both.

“Why?” None of the past ten minutes made any sense to Lewis whatsoever.

“Because I couldn’t just turn up unannounced with flowers without explaining myself.”

“Why would you have to explain yourself?” Lewis’ brow was furrowed so tightly it was starting to hurt. He heard Sebastian take a deep breath on the other end of the line.

“I talked myself into telling you slowly, first the flowers, then the phone call, then…” He paused for so long Lewis was briefly terrified that Seb had hung up, and that Lewis would either have to wait until Brazil to speak to Sebastian or corner him in Switzerland to find out what on Earth was going on.

“Then what? Seb?”

“I…” Sebastian’s voice cracked completely in two. “I love you, Lewis.”

With the concentration Lewis needed to keep a hold of his phone, the card that had came with the flowers slowly fluttered to the ground. He watched it delicately land, and felt sad when the side with Seb’s handwriting was now face down away from view.

“You don’t need to say anything, you don’t even have to talk to me again if that’s what you want. I just…” Seb let out a long shaky breath. “I just wanted to let you know.”

Lewis’s back fell against the sofa, forcing a small puff of air from his lungs.

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Like…” Suddenly almost every word in the English language had evaporated from Lewis’ head. What did you say, when the guy you’d spent years racing against suddenly said they were in love with you?

“Like I want to do everything in the world with you, and more.” Seb’s voice wasn’t just dripping with sincerity, but something even deeper.

As Lewis sat dumfounded on the sofa, he didn’t think about the practicalities of what this meant, or that he should have started packing by now. He wondered, for the first time, what it would be like to kiss Seb.

And he realised very quickly that he really wanted to find out.

“Get over here then.”

On the other end of the line, he heard a relieved sigh and Sebastian’s trademark grin in his voice.

“I’ll be twenty minutes.”

[milk-crater]

SEND ME A PHOTO AND PROMPT:

Pairing/wrestler: Adamjf

Word: bruises

Picture:

MB, I couldn't fit the 'bruises' part in but I was inspired. I hope you like this! *** “Hi, doll,” Max drawled, then realized maybe that wasn’t the best way to greet a tombstone. Well, whatever, no one else was visiting the graveyard today: too hot. The Florida heat meant Max’s balls were threatening to evaporate in his three-piece suit. Maybe he should have dressed-down, but it’s not every day you visit the grave of one of your heroes. Heroes and chief spank-bank material bank in the day, but Max didn’t want to dwell on that, not when he was standing by the guy’s grave.

“I brought you flowers.” Max laid the bouquet of roses by the grave. Again, maybe an odd choice, but Max had immediately been drawn to them when he stopped by the florists. “Anyway, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Maxwell Jacob Friedman, and I’m the best wrestler in the world.”

Adam Cole’s grave sat still before him. Around him the different Florida wildlife croaked and chirped, totally undercutting the somber mood.

“You know, when I was younger I dreamed about the two of us. That we’d met in the ring and do something special,” Max said. “I’m in this new company, All Elite Wrestling. It’s run by your old buds, those dweebs the Young Bucks. Oh, and Kenny Omega and Cody Rhodes.” Shortly after signing with AEW Cody had told Max that no matter, do not ask Kenny or the Young Bucks about Adam Cole. “I know you’re a big fan, but he was their close, personal friend, and his death hit them all very hard,” Cody had said, with that pompous gravitas of a teacher who wants to impart a life lesson but also be your best bud. Max had just snorted. He was supposed to feel sorry for them? At least they had known Adam, had been his friend. Max would never have that.

The unfairness of it all hit Max, not for the first time. He scrunched up his face, trying to keep tears from forming.

“Who dies from drinking an expired energy drink?” Max spat out. “What the hell? Why’d you have to have such a weak constitution? If we’d met I just know we could have been...” Rivals? Lovers? Friends? Maybe Max didn’t know after all.

Max rolled his neck, controlled his breathing.

“Well, whatever. It’s way too fucking hot out here, so I’m going to split.” He turned to go, then cast one look over his shoulder at the grave. “I’ll drop by again next time I’m in Florida. And I’ll have a fucking championship belt around my waist to show you.”    

[irelandking]

modern au fic recs

bucky barnes x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut 📱 = social media au

multiparts/series:

seat 2C - @viollettes

Part 2 & Part 3 Bucky gets signed up to be a seat-filler at the Academy Awards, only to get assigned to the seat next to one of his favorite actresses. ❤️

i’m with you - @wkemeup

When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they are sent on a whirlwind weekend filled with cancelled flights, painful questions over giant checkers, an ex-boyfriend’s wedding, and a confrontational graduation. They find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love. ❤️

soul mark - @kaunis-sielu

Part 2 soul mark au ❤️

city love - @chrevastan

You attend one of Natasha’s office parties against your will and end up meeting a charming stranger who turns out to be the person who runs the company. CEO!Bucky ❤️

the holiday hack - @gogolucky13

part 2, part 3 You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party. [Fake dating AU] ❤️

mais charmante - @sunmoonandeddie

James needs something.  More specifically, he needs someone.  Someone he can take care of that’ll fill his daily quota of affection.  Who better than a college student whose heart is too big for her own good? sugar daddy au ❤️📱

baker bucky au masterlist - @angrythingstarlight

all interconnected one shots ❤️🔥

fight for you - @teamatsumu

At the annual local boxing championship, Y/N is the leading medical specialist on call. It’s a whole new environment, and despite the drastic change, she loves it. Bucky Barnes is the reigning boxing champion of Brooklyn. Virtually undefeated, this tattoo artist by day, boxer by night is someone that is now fighting his way into Y/N’s head. And she’s helpless in front of his winning streak. ❤️🔥😔

once upon a time - @navybrat817

part 2 & 3: far, far away, a real prince charming librarian!bucky - happily ever after begins in the subway ❤️

freshly picked - @navybrat817

beefy!bucky florist, multiple parts ❤️🔥 budding romance, blossoming, fragrance, petal, sweetest nectar, efflorescence, adventures in babysitting, and grandeur

sugar and spice - @navybrat817

tattoo artist!bucky au, multiple parts ❤️🔥 and everything nice, what dreams are made of, and sweet and strong

everyone's watching him (but he's looking at her) - @writing-for-marvel

The entire world’s eyes are on movie star Bucky Barnes, what he’s wearing, who he’s dating, even the mystery behind why he needs a prosthetic arm - but Bucky doesn’t care about all that, he’s only got one thing on his mind, you. ❤️😔

sugary sweet - @all1e23

Is it all just sugar or something more? This is not a typical sugar daddy fic. Ya know me. Can’t make Bucky anything but the softest man to ever exist. There is smut so 18+, please. * ❤️🔥

he's hazardous to my health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames? ❤️🔥😔

all the blind dates - @supersoldierslover

After finding out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, you agree to go a few blind dates to help you move on ❤️📱

feelings you can't deny - @buckysmischief

You love working with your brother and best friends. But what will happen when Bucky visits the Avengers and you can’t seem to stop embarrassing yourself? bucky x stark!reader ❤️📱

[28dayslater]

Fuck you Nottingham florist, enjoy the championship next year 😁

[omori-aus-archive]

Bet you all thought I wouldn’t come back to this, huh? Well, since I’m struggling with the HIKKI/OMARI AU atm, I thought now would be the perfect time to finally start the Epilogue Arc. Hope you all enjoy the end of this AU.

Epilogue I: Chapter 38: Arc 12: Endings Are Beginnings Reprise: The Next Chapter

—————————————————————-

(Several years later....)

As time went on, the group began to discover their own paths in life. Separate from their lives as a found family, but still connected through their experiences with one another.

Hero, based on what happened to Mari, Sunny, and Basil, ultimately took his pursuit in medical education much more seriously. No longer bound by wanting to simply please his parent, he wanted to make sure the tragedies that befell his loved ones didn't happen again.

He graduated with a master's degree at the age of 27.

Kel never stopped going after his dreams with sports. Shortly after graduating high school, he attempted to draft for the NBA...with minimal success.

Ultimately, it seemed that Faraway High School and the nearby colleges took notice of his skills and requested that he join their basketball teams either as an athlete or a coach.

He ultimately chose to become a coach, surprisingly becoming VERY successful in this career and only taking part-time liberal arts college classes. He managed to get his team to the championship at age 24.

As for Basil, given his love of gardening and taking care of plants, it wasn't a surprise that he looked into get a florist career. Much like Kel, he also only to took liberal arts part-time. He was only 22 when he opened up shop.

He ultimately named it after his grandmother and Polly.

Aubrey, surprisingly, seemed to have been the most interested in pursuing a career with the exception of Hero. Ultimately, she successfully managed to graduate, before entering college part-time with the plan to become a hair stylist.

She graduated with an associate's degree in cosmetology, before taking a job at the local salon in Faraway.

Sunny and Mari seemed to struggle with their education more as they really had no idea on what careers they each wanted. While the boy had some idea related to his more creative mindset, his sister was at a loss on what to do....

Unlike most of the group, the one thing she DID have a passion for was no longer enjoyable, not to mention that she associated it with a period of her life that she felt was unhealthy to her mindset.

And despite her struggles, a part of her felt like there was a need to share her story, even if no one believed her.

And thus, she began getting into becoming an author.

Ultimately, she graduated with an associate's degree.

—————————————————————-

In regards to their more personal lives, Hero and Mari began rekindling their romance and got married at the age of 23.

When the two made the decision to move in together, Mari was insistent on moving into the house next door or across the street from her current residence.

It was clear that she didn't want the past to repeat itself and Hero was more than willing to help her with that.

Sunny and Aubrey, meanwhile, had successfully decided to have a legitimate romance and ultimately got married at the age of 22. Aubrey ended up moving in with Sunny rather than them buying a house.

Aubrey felt like it was the best choice. Not only were Mari and Hero right across the street, most of the group were well within walking distance.

Kel had a few dates, though they sadly didn't last. Thankfully, they managed to end on good terms. The coach honestly felt like a relationship like that was not for him.

Basil, on the other hand, chose to remain single. Unlike Kel, it wasn't because of the type of relationship. It was because the person he had feelings for, who was Sunny, was already taken.

—————————————————————-

In their mid-20s, Sunny and Aubrey would surprise everyone when they introduced their daughter, given the name Eri. Mari pulled her brother to the side, understandably in shock by his sudden step in responsibility.

Sunny explained to her that after what he and Mari went through...what they ALL went through with their own parents...he didn't want another child to experience that pain too.

So he and Aubrey adopted Eri and gave her a name that she'd be happy to have.

About two years later, Mari and Hero would have a child of their own; a son named Henry. And after holding her son in her arms, Mari understood why Sunny wanted to make sure his daughter didn't go through the same experience he and Mari did.

The woman realized that she'd do anything to keep her son and niece safe and happy. Just like Sunny would.

In the passing decades, the group would notice just how attached the two kids became. They essentially treated each other as siblings.

Mari and Sunny felt overjoyed by that.

A sense of peace came over them.... One that would last for a lifetime....

Omori: By Your Side. Always. (Ghost Mari AU)

(Cover art by @enigmaticallyartful and edited by me.)

—————————————————————

Chapter 1: Arc 1: Endings Are Beginnings: Death And Afterlife

—————————————————————-

At first, there’s darkness surrounding her.

All she remembered right now was….an overwhelming and unshakable feeling of regret and guilt.

An overwhelming sorrow and aching heart. A pain in the back of her neck and the cold welcoming of death….

An unbreakable….and UNSTOPPABLE amount of rage and hatred towards herself for harming someone she loved….

She remembered begging….pleading….PRAYING to that someone to forgive her. To not blame himself for her actions. For an accident that SHE caused.

Then darkness returned as a surprising, yet unsettling warmth greeted her….

—————————————————————-

The first thing that Mari noticed when she opened her eyes was that she was on the floor by the stairs, laying on her back. Much to her surprise, she wasn’t in pain. “Why am I….?” She began to ask herself, before she froze when she heard Sunny sobbing.

Immediately, Mari got to her feet, but stopped just short of the stairs when she noticed her brother’s destroyed violin. She remembered that Sunny had broken it in frustration.

Mari also remembered being shoved down the stairs by the younger teenager, only for him to immediately try and grab her hand to stop her from falling in panic and regret.

She then remembered her argument with Sunny that caused him to shove her, flinching as guilt course through her. She….really fucked up during that, for lack of a better term. She probably scared Sunny and made him hate her.

She then panicked and immediately ran up the stairs. Sunny was sobbing because she hurt him. Her brother was crying because of the argument they had. She needed to apologize, comfort him, help him in anyway she could think of.

Sunny may have broken his violin, but Mari now knew that he must’ve had a good reason for it. If she found out about that, then she could help him.

She then ran towards her room, though her panic was too high for her to wonder WHY Sunny was in there. Why Basil was looking inside. Why she ran THROUGH the door itself.

As soon as she made it in, Mari opened her mouth to speak, but froze when she saw HERSELF in her bed. Not moving. Not breathing. Not LIVING.

“Am I….dead?” Mari whispered in horror and sorrow, watching her little brother sob his eyes out as he held her lifeless hand. With Basil watching from the open door.

An older Mari, furious and frighteningly similar to an adult angel, shouted, “DAMN RIGHT! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!” “HOW DARE YOU YELL AND TREAT YOUR BROTHER LIKE THAT!” The angel snapped in rage, causing the 15-year-old to jump in fright.

Another Mari, but as a saddened and heart-broken child, said, “Why did you push Sunny so hard? He was clearly becoming more frustrated and you….” “You didn’t seem to CARE….” The saddened girl said, nearly choking on her own sob.

Another Mari, who was mostly entirely in shadow, looked at Sunny and hugged him tightly. Or tried to anyway, as she began crying. The shadowed Mari began whispering to Sunny how sorry she was, but didn’t ask for forgiveness.

Mari then collapsed to her knees and broke into sobs, whispering, “God, what have I done….?” She knew what she did. She had FUCKED UP….

And she probably would never be able to get a chance to redeem herself for it. She was dead….because she hurt Sunny.

As far as she was currently concerned…..THIS was her penance. And she was MORE than certain that she deserved it.

After what seemed like hours of crying to herself, of feeling guilt eat away at her, of feeling furious with herself, Mari looked up at the bed, only to notice Sunny and Basil were missing….as was her body.

She then rushed around the house, searching for her little brothers. She then found them in the backyard, walking away with fear and trauma in their faces.

It was only when Mari looked behind them that she saw why. And she covered her mouth in shock and fear.

There was her body. Hanging from the tree with a jump rope used as a noose.

“Dear god…..” She whispered, immediately turning away and heading back into the house, where Mari slumped against the walls in the hallway, trying to calm herself down.

She was dead.

And now the boys have traumatized themselves by faking her death as a suicide.

She didn’t even want to know how everyone was going to react if they found out the truth.

As fear, anger, self-hatred, sorrow, hopelessness, and guilt coursed through Mari again, she knew that her new existence….

WAS going to be Hell on Earth.

Keep reading

[scriptflorist]

Hi, thanks a lot for your answer about floral competition but it isn't what I was asking. I know how one works and have a specific reason for the couple to meet the winner. The problem is that I don't do floral art and barely know a thing about design, so I need to know how to describe them and not make what I describe improper or impossible flower care, downright ugly, out of place, etc without actually being an expert who can design something great, especially a winning design.

Hi again!

Thank you for the clarification, you’re right I kind of missed that you want to describe the actual competition. But only kind of because one of the things that’s important for you to understand here is that competitive floristry largely happens behind closed door. Preferably even each florist to themselves. The events generally aren’t advertised to the public (not counting the world cups), rather than exhibitions displaying the end results. That being said these two events always have to happen back to back because flowers don’t last forever so the works are often made available to the public the same day they were created. Usually in the afternoon, evening or on the following day.

This is largely due to the fact that competitive floristry calls for complex arrangements that take like an hour and a half to build in the first place. And while people may enjoy watching that, it would come at the cost of the florist's concentration and perhaps their flowers too. You may remember I’ve talked about that in the previous post, however, there’s a second reason this doesn’t happen. And that’s cause the actual evaluation and assessment takes foreeeeever. (I was so bored out of my mind that I brought my laptop to our finals so I could write some while waiting for the examiners judgement, me and some classmates ended up listening to music for the longest time of our wait. It was like three hours and we were only five people.) There’s a huge check-list of technical and art-related topics to go through and it will take the jury several hours to complete it for every arrangement. Technique is almost the most important thing so it makes up a rather large chunk of the evaluation sheets actually, so your florists are most likely to get points deducted in that department. People who aren’t acquainted with floristry likely won’t even notice the blemishes a jury has to criticise so it’s not necessarily essential knowledge for your characters.

This masterpost is from way back, but it does give a good idea about what florists mean when they talk about technique. Technique at all times has to be well hidden by your florists. Although there are a few exceptions, like floral tape on a stem not counting for corsages. However, most technique is often hidden well enough to the untrained eye, keep that in mind for the characters who marvel the artwork.

The first thing you will have to ask yourself is whether or not the competition they attend is behind closed doors. Because if it is, you’re fine with just laying focus on the best (or the first three) arrangements, while pointing out general details about the rest. Their general opinion on colour, type and size should be sufficient. Maybe they notice a flower they like too, but unless they think someone else’s is waaaay better they’re not going pay much attention to detail once they see the others.

Whether or not the florists are going to work in the same space or each gets a separate room may depend a little on the location, but usually either or works. Especially if nobody needs extra space. One could even request to work by themselves if it helps them, juries aren’t picky about that. It’s more important that everyone finishes on time. Your characters may even choose to wear earplugs or headphones. I wore headphones during my midterm because talking to others makes me a slower florist and that was bad when I was working on a schedule. So I had a playlist that was roughly half an hour.

Given that every competition, there will be some for the florists too. Usually, flowers are allowed to be prepared, meaning they’ve been rid of all excess leaves, and thorns or side shoots. However, they won’t be allowed to cut them to size already. They will also have extra flowers in case something breaks. Same goes for wiring.

From there on out it’s everyone for themselves. Your florists will be busy thinking about how they have to do their arrangement, what has to be prepared first and which flowers come first. Size, shape and colour play a huge role in which flowers are chosen for which role in the arrangements. But as a rule of thumb lighter colours have to be set higher than darker ones, however, for example, a blue larkspur would have to be set above a white rose because of its shape and character. So your winning florist might catch a glimpse of their surroundings but will for the largest part be lost in their work. Afterwards comes the waiting, maybe even the announcement of the winner, unless that’s supposed to be public, and at last the exhibition where the public will be invited. (And family and friends usually.) If the arrangements aren’t already where they are supposed to be the florists have to set them up for the exhibition. This, however, depends on whether or not the arrangements are fit for moving in the first place.

The next question you should ask yourself is what sort of arrangement you have in mind for the winner. What sort of framework does it have? How tall is it supposed to be? Is it wall-like? Supposed to be set on the ground or on some sort of pedestal? Is it a wreath in any way? (Basically, is it round like a circle and made off plant? There you go consider it a wreath.) Are there branches? Is it supposed to be hanging? Go look at pictures of floral arrangements and write down what you like. Look at vases and basins and baskets and the likes – again write down what suits your tastes. Look at colour gradients and write down what you like, ask google if flowers come in that colour if you aren’t sure – write down what you like. (Complementary colours also work well.) Have a look at wreaths and garlands – write down what you like. Because this is the part where floristry is just another art form and what’s art supposed to be other than pleasing to the eye. Which is an utterly subjective thing in the end. The one thing I cannot tell you is what any of the pieces are going to look like, there are too many factors playing into it including the character of the people making them. I usually go into it by deciding I like a flower and go from there and don’t really have an idea of the final product till I’ve created it unless I am forced to articulate it.

Colors that almost clash make visual tension that can be flashy and attention getting. (Example: pale lavender daisy mums with bright orange gerberas).  - Mod Den

(You should also give the theme of the competition some thought, is it freedom, is it love, is it all retro etc. because that too will shape the arrangement in one way or another.) The bottom line here is that a lot is possible and just because Picasso may not be your taste and Monet is doesn’t mean its immediately ugly. Even if we’re talking floral arrangements and not painted art. Same rules apply. You don’t have to describe your winning arrangement down to a t, as long as you get across that it’s bedazzling and a masterpiece of craftsmanship that’s more than enough. Emotions are more important in describing artworks than knowing in which directions the brush went when crossing the canvas. For example, you could have them compliment their use of colour theory.

It’s a floral art competition, the designs can be *anything* and other than not showing the underlying support in ways that shouldn’t be, and the basic principles of design (proportion, size, form, color).

If a reference needs to be made to a design, then vague comments about the use of a certain flower or the way one of the elements of design were implemented would be best. Otherwise a specific design has to be completely thought up, checked for feasibility, and then it’s still going to be subjective of if that one should win over some other one. Heck, maybe even one of the characters thinks the 2nd place design was better, happens all the time in art competitions with other media.- Mod Den

What I can tell you is that you won’t have to worry about care unless your winner made a bouquet. Which would be an open access competition, like what I talked about in the previous answer. However the larger the competition the more likely it won’t be the only thing your winner made in the end. And bouquets only require care because they need to be cut and given fresh water. (A slanted cut with a regular boring fruit knife or preferably a pocket knife with a single blade. Many florists carry one of these.) Floral foam already takes care of everything because it’s soaked through with water and giving the stems an edge makes piercing into it way easier. (Note: Your florists do know that floral foam needs to be given a minute or two to soak up the water instead of being emerged in it because the latter only causes a dry centre and sad droopy flowers through that.)

Of all the things out of place, you could describe flowers out of season may be the worst offenders, so no tulips in summer and chamomile in winter and the likes. A florist who doesn’t know their craft would not only make for a poor competitor. Actually, they would no competitor at all.

- Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[formulaa-1]

instagram au ✨ L.H

vet!reader x Lewis hamilton

fans sususpect that Lewis hamilton is dating roscoes vet 🐶 is award winning vet y/n y/l/n and formula 1 championship winning Lewis hamilton dating ?

I have been thinking about vet!reader x l.h for the longest time and I felt it was very fitting so here we go !

y/nusername

y/nusername: this is definitely one of the most rewarding jobs ❤️🐶

Liked by roscoelovescoco and 113,373 others

view all 102 comments

lh44_fann: awhhh y/n’s roscoes vet 🥹🥹🥹

user292: such a kind person ❤️

roscoelovescoco: I’s is a cutes pooch🐶

Liked by y/nusername

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f1waggupdatess

f1waggupdatess: lewis hamilton spot with mystery woman. who is she ? are they dating?

Liked by hamilton_44 and 15,383 others

view all 340 comments

hamilton_44: isn’t that roscoes vet ? Y/n ?

user373: i think it is yeah !

mercgirl63: we’ve lost him🥲 but it’s y/n so it’s all good 🥹

fanoflh44; OH EM GEEE Y/N??!!

username_37: ❤️❤️❤️

y/nusername’s story

lewishamilton’s story

f1waggupdatess

f1waggupdatess: new update on the y/n - lewis situation … lewis posted that he was at a florist today then not even 2 hours later y/n got flowers and captioned the photo “he’s a keeper❤️”

Liked by fan2 and 12,456 others

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fan2: they’re deffo together!

mercedes4eva: oh for sure 💯💯💯

threearrows: SCREAMING CRYTHING THROWING UP

user69: okay but that florist is so beautiful 🤩

uaer333: I’d be sneezing like an asthmatic cat 😭😭

user69: LMAOOOOOOOO

lewishamilton

lewishamilton: love is in the air 😏

Liked by y/nusername and 467,455 others

comments on this post have been disabled.

authors note- hope you enjoyed this because Iv been thinking about this for a long time ,again it’s short and sweet ;)

[mjm5655]

HAW ?

this man says he killed himself ? but he was sat here, very much alive, talking to majima. of all the things majima's heard, this has to be the wildest shit he's ever heard. the man even shown a scar that did match what most bullet wounds looked like, but to be shot there, it would have usually been fatal.

❝ man, ya must be one tough dude to survive a bullet to the head ! maybe wasn't a bad idea hirin' ya after all ! ❞

majima still didn't believe the other didn't fake his death, like how else could he be here alive ? he'll have to get the florist to look into this, tell him of a mark heathcliff from the state of wisconsin, & see if the man could dig up anything on him, it had started to interest majima now, especially with the last words he said. majima wasn't sure if he could say the florist found everything by pure luck, he just knew where to look, if there was one person who could unravel the mystery of this man he was talking to, it'll be the florist.

oh ! that was right, majima was to defend his reigning championship today ! he had to get down there & fight whatever fool that wanted to take him on. quickly taking off his snakeskin jacket, & leaving the other to hold it, he stood up, ready to go down there.

❝ 'cuse me, i'll be right back, forgot somethin' ❞

he all but ran down to the ring, taking out his demonfire dagger, & tossing it around as if it were a toy, masterly catching it by its handle, each time, & finally by his teeth as his opponent made it to the ring. removing the tanto from his mouth, he let out a crazed laugh that echoed throughout the arena. there was no backing out now for his opponent as the cage started to come down, closing both men in.

his opponent was a sizable one, & even came equipped himself, a puny handgun, majima knew he would have no issue dealing with this however, he could be fast, all it took was a broken arm, & that firearm would be useless.

the announcer did his stuff, announcing that majima was the reigning champion here for over three months now, & who his opponent was, just a random criminal, go figure. majima stood smiling as the other looked as if they were near wetting themselves despite being the one with the gun in hand. the bell rang, & the fight started. the man could barely aim his gun as majima dodged each bullet aimed at him, getting closer as the man backed himself up ; all those muscles, & yet nothing to show for it. he tried to fire the gun again but now that majima was close, he could grab onto the man's arm & he twisted it in such a way he heard a snapping sound, indicating the man's arm was now broken. he dropped the gun, & screamed in pain.

usually majima would pick up the gun himself here, & finish things off, but nah, he was in a special kind of mood, & he wanted to show off to his new employee too. so he threw his tanto up into the air, as it fell, he round house kicked his opponent, smashing him into the cage, his tanto came down just in time for majima to catch it, & without warning, he stuck it into the man's throat.

❝ pathetic. ❞

was all he said as the cage started to be lifted, the announcer & crowd going wild, announcing majima's win, & how he maintains his reigning championship in the coliseum. he shook his head, as walked back up to his employee, sitting back down, taking his snakeskin jacket, & putting it back on him.

❝ fuckin' dumbass, thinkin' he had any chance against me, how 'bout me n' ya go for some drinks now ? ❞

he spoke so casually, it was as if he didn't just put an end to that criminal's life. he wondered what the other might think now.

     mark could only muster a ( less than ) enthusiastic mutter; something about how it’d truly be A DELIGHT in showing majima around the one country that truly didn’t held up to the dream it once prided itself as. a hand reached up to rub along the back of his neck, never having the opportunity to talk about himself   ———   even if it was simply where he was from   ———   and answering to GENUINE curiosity. how long has it been since he’s actually engaged in a conversation in which he could answer NORMALLY? at least, initially?

     “...Wisconsin,” mark soon answered with his upper midwestern drawl, hand lowering to rest upon his lap. “Up north In America. Not really the most exciting state there is like Las Vegas or New York, but it has its places. You just gotta know where to look.” EVERYTHING was practically left behind there   ———   it did, however, make him wonder just what happened to mandela county. to the counties of bythorne, yonder, and werksha. last he heard, the government has ordered some form of ISOLATION ( though it wasn’t even the term the last he saw; the details made it as though the entire area was in CONTAINMENT ) of the four counties from the rest of the country but not once did mark hear of ANY NEWS or even activity from there.      what the hell did they do there? what happened to those that were trapped there? were they RESCUED? still TRAPPED?   /   WERE THEY ALL SILENCED TO PREVENT A MASS PANIC?

     at majima’s warning, mark gave him a DISDAINFUL scoff and leaned back in his seat. “No, it’s nothing like that. You’d think that I’m some badass on the run or something, but I’m far from it. I’m...” he paused to give his surroundings a glance. NO ONE didn’t even cared of majima and mark’s conversation; all eyes SOLELY FOCUSED on the fights below. his eyes lingered on the ring for a moment. “...You won’t believe me, but the only crime I’ve commited was ending it all. I killed myself.”      to prove such a BIZARRE claim, mark lifted chestnut brown locks at his right temple. a somewhat circular scar could be seen, GNARLED and CRUDELY HEALED like the process itself had been HASTENED to mend. it resembled a bullet wound caused by a powerful handgun   ———   the aftermath would have been GRUESOME to witness! mark lowered those locks with a scoff. “If your guy is lucky, he’ll find a photo of the local cop finding me. Whatever was left of my head was all over the walls of my bedroom.”

[favonius-captain]

𖤐 * ∿  MASTERLIST   ɞ ∿   NAVI  !

do not redistribute any of my works, or claim credit. that being said, reblogs & likes are very much appreciated ! hcs first & then fics ! ♡ means its a favorite of mine !

𖥻  ALBEDO

—  championship for your heart ( albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya )  : you’re supposed to be his rival; but then why does his heart skip a beat when you’re around? (modern fluff)

—  another language of love ( albedo, childe, kaeya, thoma xiao ) :  modern day coffee au (modern fluff)

—  before you go ( albedo, diluc, kaeya ) ♡ : how you fall out of love   ( angst )

—  someone to love ( albedo, diluc, kaeya )  : pt 2 to before you go  ( hurt/comfort  )

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  AYATO

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  CHILDE

—  championship for your heart ( albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya )  ⋮ you’re supposed to be his rival; but then why does his heart skip a beat when you’re around? (modern fluff)

—  masks and everything we left behind ( kaeya, childe ) ⋮  fake dating for a mission au (fluff)

—  streamer au ( childe, xiao )  ⋮  modern day au streamer (modern fluff)

—  another language of love ( albedo, childe, kaeya, thoma xiao ) ♡  ⋮  modern day coffee au (modern fluff)

—   alea iacata est ( childe, diluc )  ⋮  it seems like an easy decision; trading your love, for his life ( angst )

—   astra inclinant, sed non obligant ( childe, diluc ) ⋮  pt 2 to alea iacata est (hurt/comfort)

—    florist/tattoo, prankster au ( childe ) : you’re a florist who moved in, and he’s a tattoo artist. enemies to lovers, prank war rivals, how he fell in love (fluff)

—    he loves you, the story still ends ( childe, diluc, kaeya )  : how he says please don’t make this harder than it already is (angst)

—    names in a city ( childe, kaeya, xiao ) ♡ : how he reacts to your “death” (hurt/comfort)

—    three things you knew; one thing you didn’t ( childe, diluc, kaeya ) ♡ : in which you’re his almost lover before you two are separated; that is until you meet again ( hurt/comfort )

—    he has a nightmare ( childe ) : he has a nightmare, enemies to lovers agent au ( hurt/comfort )

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  DILUC

—  pretend it isn’t gold ( kaeya, diluc ) ⋮ in which you get hurt trying to save them after arguing with the boys (angst)

—  the waves break our fall ( kaeya, diluc )  ⋮ sequel to gold (hurt/comfort)

—  championship for your heart ( albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya )  ⋮ you’re supposed to be his rival; but then why does his heart skip a beat when you’re around? (modern fluff)

—   alea iacata est ( childe, diluc ) ♡ ⋮  it seems like an easy decision; trading your love, for his life (angst)

—   astra inclinant, sed non obligant ( childe, diluc ) ⋮  pt 2 to alea iacata est (hurt/comfort)

—    he loves you, the story still ends ( childe, diluc, kaeya )  : how he says please don’t make this harder than it already is (angst)

—    three things you knew; one thing you didn’t ( childe, diluc, kaeya ) ♡ : in which you’re his almost lover before you two are separated; that is until you meet again ( hurt/comfort )

—    summer camp au ( diluc ) : strangers to lovers au in summer camp with diluc 

—  before you go ( albedo, diluc, kaeya ) ♡  : how you fall out of love  ( angst )

—  someone to love ( albedo, diluc, kaeya ) ♡ : pt 2 to before you go  ( hurt/comfort  )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  KAEYA

—  pretend it isn’t gold ( kaeya, diluc )  ♡ :  in which you get hurt trying to save them after arguing with the boys (angst)

—  the waves break our fall ( kaeya, diluc )  : sequel to gold (hurt/comfort)

—  masks and everything we left behind ( kaeya, childe ) ♡ :  fake dating for a mission au (fluff)

—  championship for your heart ( albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya )  ⋮ you’re supposed to be his rival; but then why does his heart skip a beat when you’re around? (modern fluff)

—  another language of love ( albedo, childe, kaeya, thoma xiao ) ♡ ⋮  modern day coffee au (modern fluff)

—   fake dating rival singers au ( kaeya )  ⋮  250 event fake dating rival singers au (modern fluff)

—   preludes in a book that never ends ( kaeya )  ⋮  250 event modern agent au, how he fell in love

—    he loves you, the story still ends ( childe, diluc, kaeya )  : how he says please don’t make this harder than it already is (angst)

—    names in a city ( childe, kaeya, xiao ) ♡ : how he reacts to your “death” (mostly hurt/comfort)

—    three things you knew; one thing you didn’t  ♡ ( childe, diluc, kaeya ) : in which you’re his almost lover before you two are separated; that is until you meet again ( hurt/comfort )

—  before you go ( albedo, diluc, kaeya ) ♡  : how you fall out of love  ( angst )

—  someone to love ( albedo, diluc, kaeya ) ♡ : pt 2 to before you go  ( hurt/comfort  )

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  KAZUHA

—    next time, i’ll get it for here ( kazuha ): a college rivalry to lovers au 

𖥻  THOMA

—  another language of love ( albedo, childe, kaeya, thoma xiao )  ⋮  modern day coffee au (modern fluff)

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  XIAO

—  streamer au ( childe, xiao )  ⋮  modern day au streamer (modern fluff)

—  another language of love ( albedo, childe, kaeya, thoma xiao )  ⋮  modern day coffee au (modern fluff)

—    names in a city ( childe, kaeya, xiao ) ♡ : how he reacts to your “death” (mostly hurt/comfort)

—   summer rain ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) ♡ : two unlikely high school candidates are paired together for a documentary — neither expect to fall in love ( fluff )

—    always you ( xiao ) : 250 event, model au, jealousy, ( hurt/comfort )

—  superache ( albedo, ayato, childe, kaeya, thoma, xiao ) : them as conan gray songs ( angst, p2 hurt/comfort soon )

𖥻  ZHONGLI

—  broken contracts  ⋮  agent enemies to lover au ( event )

𖥻  XIAO

— bridges and the pouring rain ( xiao )  :  you’re an immortal general, cursed to die once you fall in love ( angst )

[macybeckham7]

Grid Kids

Gisela #1

Gisela Hamilton aka the Flower Fairy. Any Formula One fan would remember having the little girl run around the paddock and gifting flower treats to whoever she thought needed some extra luck. The guys would wear their flower crown with pride and they was bickering between them who was her favourite. She wouldn't outright say it but she adored her Uncle Seb, and the Schumacher's.

As she grew up she loved racing but she never saw herself doing that, and she definitely felt the pressure. Out of her and her siblings, she grew to hate the cameras. Sebastian was the one who taught her the important of nature and to look after Earth. She was 6 when she helped him tidy up Silverstone after the weekend of a sold out GP. He introduced her to bees and taught her how important they were, especially to her flowers.

Her family were all supportive, when she turned 11 she was invited to the Chelsea Flower Show and she got to choose who was the winner. She loved looking around, seeing their passion, and learning about new plants and flowers. She went to University, and after three years she had got a job at a Botantical Garden. And brought her own shop, and become a florist.

G looked up when she heard the bell ring and saw Cairo and Azalea walking in. They all kissed each other with Lea handing her a white chocolate mocha, which was her favourite.

'How are you feeling about the big opening?' Cairo asks as he noses at what his younger sister was doing.

'I'm nervous, and excited' she says.

'You've worked hard, everyone is going to be excited' Lea says. 'You belong here'

'For a while I thought you would be the one outshining me on the F1 track, so I am glad you realised flowers are your biggest passion' Cairo jokes.

Growing up, everyone thought Gisela was going to be the one to follow in her fathers footsteps. She was pretty mean in a Go-Kart but that was the thing that made her grow out of love with it. She didn't want to be a nepo driver.

'Can you help, with the boxes out?' she explains, with the two nodding and making their way behind the desk.

The bell rings making the Hamilton trio stop bickering and reminiscing, they smile when they see Jacob walk in his leather jacket, wanting to look like a bad boy.

'You managed to find it' Lea jokes knowing he could get lost anywhere.

'Ha ha' he said dryly as he hugs G. 'Do I get a tour?' he asks, she nods and takes his hand and walks him around.

It was a big area, with loads of different plants and flowers. The walls were decorated with photos and memories of her childhood. Jacob smiling softly at the photo of her G gifting a bouquet to Max as he won his second championship. A photo of her stood in the middle of the field of sunflowers. There was a big double door to a garden of flowers which she grew ready to be picked and ready to buy.

'You have done a good job' he smiles.

She gently rubs her thumb over the petal of the flower. 'Thank you, I feel like I am free and don't feel any pressure to make anyone proud' she speaks honestly. 'I hope you feel that soon' she says as she picks up the flower and hands it over to him.

He gently smells it and looks at her. 'I have stopped trying to make him or anyone happy, I don't think I can whatever I do' he mutters.

She gently squeezes his shoulder.

.......

The event was in full speed, Gisela stood with a champagne glass in her hand, there was some journalist scattered around, and then there was her family and chosen family. Lewis was sat beside Sebastian and Michael as they caught up, Michael was now the Ferrari principal, he had just been announced. But they all learnt about it a week prior and they all went round for dinner. Azalea was sat on Jules’ lap as he bickered with Jacob. She didn’t understand what they’re issue with each other. Properly because they were too alike. Cairo was holding his phone and moving it around, with Adelaide sat on the screen. They were her family, who she always found comfort in. And didn’t feel any pressure to be this ‘perfect’ girl who everyone thought she was. These people raised her, she shared a bath with most of them. She would sneak in alot of their beds at midnight after a nightmare. Sebastian and Michael would pick her up when something happened and Jules and Jacob would go over to the guy who broke your heart to rough them up a bit.

'I am will the champ this season, last season I let you past but not this time' Lea said confidently and flicking Jules' nose.

'I don't know, I am backing Jacob, and I have already gave him a lucky charm' G says as she sits beside Jules. They all 'Ooo' in a teasing fashion with G winking at him.

'Traitor' Lewis jokes.

‘The Hamilton reign is over’ Jules says sticking his tongue at his on, off girlfriend.

‘I don’t know, those Hamilton’s are a force to reckon with especially now they are teammates’ Michael smiles.

No one noticed but G did how her sister stiffens and her smiles falls off her face. As she starts to play with Jules hair.

'Can we have one night not talking about F1' she suggests.

They all nod, Michael standing up and pulling her to her feet too. He gets the rooms attention. 'Looking around the room, it shows how loved you are. I think I echo what everyone is feeling. But I am beyond proud of the women you have grown up as. Heres to Gisela and The Flower Fairy, to loads of success' he says.

Everyone lifts their glasses up and say in unison 'To Gisela and The Flower Fairy!'

------

Gisela's car pulls up infront of the family home, both of her siblings cars were already parked up. Lewis always liked to meet up with the Hamilton trio (mainly Lea and Cairo) to remind them that they were siblings before hand. The season had started, so it had been two weeks since she had seen them properly. Only really seen them when they poked their heads into view when she spoke to dad. She takes the bouquet of flowers and jumps out, her mum and Angela were the first two to welcome her. She walks into the kitchen were the others were already. Lewis pecks her on the cheek and hands her a coffee which she was grateful for.

'Sorry I am late, but I bet none even realised' she mocks, which gains an eyeroll from Cairo.

'You are so bloody dramatic' with Azalea mocking 'Who are you again?' which makes her younger sister aim an apple at her head. Lucky for her, her F1 reactions are top tier.

They start to talk about the start of the F1 session, hearing that Jules is on another level.

'Should we cut the season short and just give it to him?' G jokes. 'Dad whose side was you on when Cairo took Lea out?' she asks.

'I didn't!' he cuts in. 'If you rewatch you see her turn into me' he argues his case as Azalea makes a hand puppet with her hand.

Lewis looks at his daughter with a 'thank you for that' look.

'I reckon they are working together now they are sleeping together' she giggles into her coffee.

'How are you and Jules?' Lewis asks. 'We are good' she says, she looks at Cairo. 'Cairo is dating Addy'

'Where is she now?' Lewis asks.

'Um' he looks at his phone. 'She is in Australia' long distance is harder than expected' he explains.

'She's a good kid' Lewis nods.

Gisela looks at her brother, she knew that they both had a thing for each other for a while, it wasn't until Cairo won his first World Championship when he drunkenly confessed his love for the Aussie beauty. Azalea and G both cheering from the other side of the room. The whole of the summer they lived in each others pockets, their second family all travelling around Europe. They got the front seat seeing them fall more in love with one another, she didn't think anyone could have a beautiful love story like her parents but she believed they were a close second.

Lea lets out a groan when G walks into her bathroom.

‘What was the emergency?’ she asks as she sits on the side.

Her older sister looks at her and points at her face. ‘I have a photoshoot and my brows are fucked and my skin is disgusting’ she frowns.

She was playing in the garden with the English Bulldog when she got a text and she instantly ran upstairs to her. She thought maybe it was something more of an emergency.

‘What’s the shoot for?’

‘Forbes or something, I have an interview too’ she sighs. ‘So they’ll just be like how does it feel like you are the shit Hamilton, how does it feel that you always get overshadowed, what do you bring to the table!’

‘You’re not the shit one’ she argues, which just gets a groan from her.

‘Ever since we were little and running around the paddock, everyone only looked at you and Cairo. Oh and here comes the other one’ she frowns. She bite her lip to try and stop her giggle because her voices and impressions are the best.

She gets down and wraps her arms around her middle. ‘That’s on them, not you’ She kisses her cheek and suggests that they have a pamper night to get her ready for the shoot.

‘Can I join?’ Cairo peeked his head through. ‘I have the same shoot tomorrow’

Lea groans and storms out, G gives him a shrug and chases after her.

‘What did I do?’ he calls after them.

[piedpiperslists]

Jungkook One Shots (XXI)

* s - contains smut

So Good by @ggukiepie s wc~3.3k / established relationship, PWP Summary: Just some steamy sex with your boyfriend JK.

Every Kind of Way by @gukslut s wc~14.2k / established relationship Summary: Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK.

Little Library Girl by @kooksgalaxy wc~5k / college au Summary: Jungkook is the star quarterback of his college, but he has to keep his grades up in order to continue to play. With calculus being his hardest subject, he is tutored by Y/n, someone who is the complete opposite of him. With stress rising with the upcoming championship, his feelings for Y/n are making things much more complicated. Take the glory of football, a little library girls, and throw in a malicious opponent… you’ve got a whole lot of trouble.

Sweet Tooth by @lisired wc~4.3k / friends to lovers Summary: Oh, the man named Jeon Jungkook who knows all of the sweetest ways to tug at your heartstrings. The organ swells everyday, unable to handle all the sugary goodness, yet it still beats for him. Your heart has a sweet tooth for him, and while it feels so full of love, it keeps begging for more—or, in which Jungkook is your friend, your roommate, the love of your life, and it’s Halloween and you have a sweet tooth for him.

I Will Not Lose! by @jimlingss wc~6.2k / rivals to lovers, magic au Summary: A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

Of Insults and Flowers by @breadoffoxy wc~5.3k / strangers to lovers, florist au Summary: You weren’t sure what to expect when a hot customer comes barging into your shop, but the depletion of your flowers representing insults and falling in love was definitely not on the list.

Mean Girls by @taetaesbaebaepsae s wc~9.1k / tattoo artist!Jungkook, strangers to lovers Summary: Jungkook is usually bored at his job as a tattoo apprentice, but the day you walk in, he finds it a lot more interesting.

Edge by @whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~8.4k / strangers to lovers, PWP Summary: You're on Tinder because you're horny. Horny, but not stupid. Min Yoongi is helping you sort through the assholes and he can spot an asshole when he sees one. Someone familiar pops up, someone Yoongi recognizes - Jeon Jungkook, who he says is a "nice asshole... sometimes." By the way, Yoongi expects to hear all the details of your date. Turns out, it's less of a date and more of a horny fuckfest. Oops.

I Don't Like a Gold Rush by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids wc~17.3k / college au Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college’s football team. Rumor has it, there’s simply nothing he can’t do. The same cannot be said about you, but you’ve never had an issue with that. You’re happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you’ve taken an interest in him — and you’re sure you shouldn’t. There’s no way this can end well for you… right?

Cut Me Loose by @dreamyjoons s wc~3.6k / FWB Summary: You always ended up here. Sitting in the passenger’s seat of Jungkook’s car, the city passes you by. Your heart gets heavier with each drive you take together - and it can’t go on forever.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

The Proposal | la proposta

warnings; none word count; 1703 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

13th July 2024, Germany

Amelia and Ben had found themselves experiencing a slight bit of deja vu. The night before the final match of the UEFA European Championship, Amelia was sat in her hotel suite, finalising her preparations for the following evening. A rematch between the Three Lions and The Azzurri. Who would have thought that three years after the last final, the same two teams (give or take a few players) would be in the exact same position.

The difference this time, Amelia had more to think about than just her brother’s feelings. Her relationship with Ben had grown throughout the 3 years that they had been officially together. Countless family holidays shared together, and with each other's respective families had since become a thing of the past as they had successfully managed to merge both the White’s and the Chilwell’s together to create one big happy family. Ben had asked Amelia to move in with him only a year into their relationship, and although outsiders might think it was fast the couple could only disagree with them. They took each stage of their relationship as it came and when it came, just the two of them how it should be.

6 months after moving in together they had adopted a dog together from the local animal rescue centre, a black Labrador called Maverick who was bi-lingual and responded to both English and Italian, much to Ben’s dismay. Amelia began teaching both of her boys (Mav & Benj) simple words in the language of love  and Ben had a harder time retaining it than the pup. Nevertheless, he loved hearing Amelia’s voice when she spoke to him in Italian and it was something he hoped he could hear every day for the rest of his life.

Amelia had continued her role at Chelsea FC as a tactical analyst for the first team, and Chelsea had honored their promise to the girl to allow her to work in depth with the academy talent which is something she found very rewarding and the part she loved most about her job. Of course she loved being around her friends and helping them achieve their dreams but there was something about fostering youth talent that made Amelia really proud to be in the position that she was, to help these young kids from all walks of life make it in the big scary world of professional football. The smile on their faces when they get a call up to an older division, the tears shed by their parents as they wave them off to go and live with their host family nearby Cobham facility, the same eyes that leak a whole different set of tears as they sign their first professional contract with the club - it makes it all worth it.

Something that was eerily similar to the last time Amelia was sat in her hotel room the night before the European Championship Final is that she was, once again, the tactical analyst for the Italian National Team. This time, however, there was no knock on her door with Federico Bernardeschi on the other side waiting to bring her to the English National Team’s base so she could have it out with her brother and Kyle Walker. Thankfully, her relationships with all of the England team had remained intact but that was largely due to another no-contact ban being enforced between her and the Three Lions. This meant that she hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of her friends, let alone her boyfriend Ben, in three weeks. It was painful for both parties, but necessary to ensure that there was no untowards activity or information being shared.

When Amelia was first offered the job she had sat on it for days before making a decision to rejoin the national team. Ben had actually been the one to push her to accept it, it was only something that would make her life better and he didn’t want her to miss out on any opportunity that came her way - even if it meant that the two of them had to be apart both physically and digitally for 3 weeks. That was the thing that held Amelia back from accepting the position on the spot, she would miss the person that became her right hand man. But Ben’s encouragement made the last few weeks easier, and also made Amelia realise just how ready she was to give herself to him...officially.

Marriage had been something that they had both discussed prior as a natural conversation between two people in a relationship that they could see was obviously heading in that direction already, so it was something that was always in Amelia’s mind. She had found herself at florists buying flowers for their dining room table and absent-mindedly thinking about the perfect wedding flowers for her bridal bouquet. However much to Amelia’s dismay, Ben was yet to ask her the most important question of her life and these three weeks apart have made her more desperate than ever to become Mrs Chilwell.

14th July 2024, Signal Iduna Park, Dortmund Germany

A torturous 90-minute match of football later and the Azzurri had done it, back-to-back UEFA European Champions. The only goal of the match coming from her midfield-maestro Jorgi, which was the direct result of a misplay from Declan Rice meaning the ball fell at the feet of Jorginho as he was directly in front of the goal, Jordan Pickford was no match for the beautifully crafted strike which isn’t anything towards Pickford, no keeper was stopping that ball from going in - it was just that good.

This time however, she was the one being consoled by her brother. The pressure of the situation getting on top of her, 3 weeks of no contact with Ben & seeing him for the first time out on this pitch but not being able to kiss him was getting to her, the knowledge that she was again partly to blame for their heartache. Her brother had seen the look in Amelia’s eyes when the whistle blew and the entire bench of the Italian team ran onto the pitch to congratulate the players, she had remained behind. Wrapping his arms around his little sister as she sobbed into his jersey because she was too empathetic for her own good was not how he predicted the outcome of the evening at all, but he was glad he was there for her. Pulling away from her, he tidied up her face and sent her on her way out to the pitch to wrap her Italian friends up in the hugs that they so well deserved, fully aware of the events to follow the wrap up awards ceremony that same night.

______________________________________________________________

I found myself standing in the centre circle at the Borussia Dortmund home ground, with an Italian flag wrapped around my shoulders and confetti all over the floor at my feet. Looking around at the fans who had stayed behind so they could meet their idols, I could not believe my luck in this world.

“I hope you’re not considering a job out here in Dortmund, Mils? I possibly couldn’t be away from you any longer” Ben spoke from behind me, pulling me out of my trance. I whipped my body around at lightning speed and launched myself at my boyfriend, my soul mate.

“Ben” I whispered into his ear as he lifted me from the ground, feet dangling at his mid shin and my arms wrapped around his shoulders so tightly as if to convey all of the hugs we had missed out over the last few weeks apart.

“Mils, I’ve missed you so much.” He said back to me, expressing the exact same sentiments as I possessed. He put me back on the floor and began to push me away from him, in my desperate attempt at a longer hug I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled myself back in.

“No Mils, I need to see your face as I do this.” He laughed, pushing me off him again and taking a step back from me.

“Benj, what are you doing?” I questioned him, not really believing my own thoughts as to what was about to happen.

“Amelia, my brilliant Amelia. The past three weeks have done nothing but made me realise I never want to spend a day without you again. There are many ways to be happy in life, but all I need is you.  You are my sunshine, you make me unbelievably happy, you make my good days great and my hard day's worth it just to see your smile in our kitchen at the end of it. Your brain is the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I hope our future daughter turns out exactly like you so that I have another you to love.”

Ben had descended to one knee as I stood before him, both hands raised to my face to cover my shocked by bright smile and both eyes stuck directly on his own. I hadn’t noticed the crowd of our closest people begin to gather around us to watch the show.

“So in front of God…” Ben nodded his head slightly, I turned my head to see he was referring to Paolo Maldini and shook my head with a little giggle which was copied by everyone else around us.

“...our family and closest friends I want to ask you the question that I know you’ve been patiently waiting for - will you marry me?” Ben pulled out the most perfect ring from a box that I hadn’t even noticed in his hands.

Dropping myself so that I was crouched and on both knees in front of him, I grabbed his face with both of my own hands and pressed the firmest kiss to his lips. My tears ran down my face and probably all over his, he kissed me back. They say a picture says a thousand words, and while I hoped that at least one of our friends had managed to snap a few of this moment, my kiss said only one word...Yes.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card  - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K  Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

---- 

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.  

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a chef friend that makes killer steak frites.”

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.  

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.