#what i would give to fucking put lipgloss or whatever on this man's mouth

[cum-a-calla]

still one of the horniest pics of Kieran i have ever seen. look at him. LOOK AT HIM!!!

[coleskingdom]

Cold

Jay White x f reader

NSFW Minors DNI 18+

For @madhatterbri you wanted jealous the man is United Empire green. Thank you @midwestmade29 for reading and going back and forth with me.

“You look fantastic. What are your plans with Skye tonight?” as Jay helped clasp the necklace as I put on lipgloss. “Honestly not sure, she just said we were going out for dinner and drinks. It’ll be fun.” knowing the question coming next. “Is old golden boy and his boyfriend going out joining you and Skye this evening ?” I roll my eyes in the mirror looking at him “Honestly I’m not sure, but if you weren’t t so grumpy you should come with me.” smiling sweetly. “No thanks but if you want to stay in, I can think of a few things more interesting than taking dinner and drinks.” his beard tickling me as he leaned into kiss my neck. “ Jay, I’m looking forward to this , but those interesting ideas I want to hear about them when I get back.” Pulling away and heading out the door.

Of course my luck would have it that Will and Kyle both were there. I tried to relax as I sat next to Skye, “You okay” she asked a bit of concern in her voice, “Yeah I’m alright, but I can already feel my phone going off.” Sighing reaching for my phone. Answering the FaceTime, “Hey, what’s up?” my voice cheerful, “How’s dinner? How’s Skye?” his voice too cheerful “We’re good, here with Kyle and Will” my voice hesitant but Skye leaned in “Hey Jay” Skyes voice “I’ve got our girl and I’ll get her home safe tonight.” I could tell from his quick answer back that he wasn’t thrilled . He let her go, and Skye handed me back the phone. “Shake it off. Have some fun.” ordering another round for the table. Dinner was so much fun, and I agreed to go out dancing with them. I dance with Kyle , Skye and Will when some girl spilled her drink on my top. “Hey take my jacket, go clean up in the bathroom.” Will stripping off his jacket. “ Thanks I appreciate it more than you know. Whatever it was. It’s sticky “ taking it gratefully. I went to the bathroom and changed glancing at my phone.

Jay-

You didn’t mention anything about spending the night grinding on Will.

I found Skye “ Hey I’m gonna go, I need to get home.” she hugged me, “Go home and get your man” I laughed half heartedly.

I was outside the door of the house when I realized that I was in Wills jacket, the united empire green with the Billy goat symbol. I had no choice but to walk in.

“Sweetheart there you are coming home in your new lovers jacket” the bottle of scotch on the table nearly empty . “Jay a girl spilled her drink on me. Will offered me his jacket that’s all.” my voice calm. “Did he lick you clean?” the jealous tone maddening. “ Yes Jay, he took off my shirt in the middle of the club, and licked my chest. Then I got to wear his jacket as a prize.” throwing my wet shirt and bra at him.

“Bravo, the award for pretending that she didn’t enjoy grinding on Golden Boy goes to you my dear.” Raising his glass to me. I reach for it “Your obsessed with this thing with Will. Is that what you want to see me fuck him Jay while you watch? Do you want me to take him in my mouth? Do you want me to straddle him and ride him all night ? Since you already think he licked me what if he puts my knees to my shoulders and just ruins me. Which is it?” looking him dead in the eyes as I drink his scotch.

I saw the flash in his eyes before he was on me. “There she is my little vixen. No the only one that gets any of that is me. “ He kisses me roughly , his mouth tastes of the scotch , his hands threaded through my hair holding me to him. Releasing me his hands reach for the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down and throwing it in the floor. I moan as his mouth finds my neck tilting my head giving him better access as one of his hands grips the back of the neck walking us backwards. My ass hits the back of the dining room table,as his hands now focus on the buttons of my jeans. My hands going to the hem of his shirt pulling it off of him. He let me run my hands over him and kissing him, the man was intoxicating. “I’m going to give you something golden boy could never .” I bite his lower lip “ Shut up about him and fuck me.” a low growl in his chest. “That’s it darling girl tell me, tell me what you want.” His breath against my ear my nipples hard against his body. “Turn around” the heat in his voice sends a jolt of desire through me. I do as he asks my bare torso against the cold wood of the table. He finishes pulling off my jeans and panties as I spread my legs a little bit further apart, and arch my back at him. My lips part as I feel the first slide of his fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this, the question is which one of us gets you this wet?” His fingers moving faster, then disappear from my body. “I asked you who Sweetheart?” I feel his cock pressed against my entrance “Jay it’s always been and will forever be you “ I moan as he slides all the way in.

This is the Jay White of the early days in the ring and in our relationship. The seemingly cold, volatile arrogant bastard who intrigued me like no one else, who took me where and when he wanted, with no apologies but full of passion.

Rough, calloused hands slide over my curves to fit beneath me, one settling on my clit, seizing the bundle of nerves between his thumb and finger; the other to cup the front my neck, securing me gently as his body folds over mine, until his chest meets my back, all while he continues mercilessly driving into me.

"You're mine."

"I'm yours."

"I want this to work between us."

"Yes!" I manage to get out through pants.

"You're about to come," he grits out, his cock swelling more inside me with each thrust, telling me he's not far behind me. His fingers, now slick, work against my clit with a sense of urgency, hard and fast circles that make me want to spread my legs wide for him.

The rush hits me and my muscles begin to contract. In answer, he angles his hips to thrust harder into me, the sensation so overwhelming I'm unable to hold back my cries of ecstasy as a mind-paralyzing, explosive orgasm rips through my body, leaves me a quivering mess.

"Fuck!" Jay presses his mouth against the back of my neck to muffle his cries. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, spilling his release into me, leaving me slick and sore and so utterly satisfied.

Silence surrounds us as we lie on the table, limp, him draped on top of me, his heartbeat pounding against my back.

He pulled himself from me ,then left as I tried to regain my composure. I heard the bath tub running, he came back from our room with my robe and put it on me gently. “Go get in the tub while I make you something and get you a bottle of water.” he kissed me and sent me on the way. I hear my phone ring Jay answers it as I settle deep into the tub the warmth enveloping my body as I close my eyes.

[takenbyheartstrings]

Project Parker | peter parker.

part one: IN YOUR EYES || series masterlist

[ enemies! peter parker x fem!reader || warnings. fluff & swearing, sexual innuendo || wc.  ]

a/n. WELCOME TO MY NEW SERIES <3 i hope you enjoy reading this!!

YOU WERE SAT AT YOUR desk in class as MJ wrote in her notebook. She looked over at you, as you looked over at Peter Parker to which she was having a staring contest with as he walked through the door, he flashed her a smirk, “Y/n! Looking great today, I just love it when people embrace their flaws.” He chuckles before going to sit down, you hold your foot out as the boy trips, looking at you with a slight fire to his gaze.

You chuckled, “Oops,” You pouted your lips giving him a sorry look, but it wasn’t true. You didn’t like Peter and he didn’t like you. You don’t know when you started hating Peter. Maybe it was when he started being better than you at certain things. When you got bumped down to second in the class?

Your teacher coughs trying to get the classes gaze away from you and Peter, “Okay, we’re doing a science project!” She smiles cheerily, “Now, this is going to be different this time, I’m partnering you up,” The whole class groans angrily.

“Don’t expect me to be lenient either, okay,” Miss Grundle claps her hands together, “Uh first up we have Flash Thompson and Ned Leeds.” Ned looks like he could just about shit himself.

“Michelle Jones and Harrison Osborn.” Harry smiles and winks as Michelle rolls her eyes even if she has the slightest of crushes.

The teacher reads through the rest of the names and then you notice that everyone has paired up except for you and one other person your eyes meet Peter’s like they did at the beginning of the class. “NO!” You practically scream, “No! No! NO!”

“Miss Grundle!” MJ speaks up, “It’s really not a good idea, she hates him and he hates her. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on that.”

Peter smirks, “Am I really that repulsive?” he asks nobody in-particular, “But if it’s any consultation, Miss Grundle, I say ‘No! No! NO!’ too.” He mocks your voice.

You roll your eyes, and open your mouth but Miss Grundle interrupts, “No, no’s.” She hisses, “You guys are partners, this is your problem now.”

The two of you had to discuss the project, but you sat there drawing and he sat there staring at the clock waiting for the godawful task to be over. But you couldn’t wait out the awkward silence anymore. The two of you had to discuss something otherwise the you would fail.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you asked Peter suddenly.

His eyes went wide at your choice of words, “Woah! Okay, uh…” You chuckled at the way he was flustered.

“What? Can’t handle the word fuck?” You questioned him getting in close, whispering the word in his ear, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.” You spoke as his cheeks went a deep crimson red.

“No, no! I just-” The poor boy cuts himself off, “Let’s just focus on the project. Did you have any ideas?”

You blew a raspberry and you rolled your eyes, “No.”

He grins, his smile full of that sarcasm that you just loved, “Keep rolling your eyes and maybe, just maybe you’ll find a brain back there. I can’t make any promises though,”

You go to roll your eyes once more, but you catch yourself in the act, “Whatever,” You mumbled, “Maybe we could take something simple and put a twist on it. I mean, it is science, we can mix whatever we want and make an explosion.”

Peter looks at you thoughtfully, “I don’t think that’s how it-”

The bell cuts him off and as he goes to continue what he was going to say, so does your voice, “Look, Parker, we’ll go to the library after school,”

The boy sighs, hating himself for what he’s about to offer, “Why don’t you come over?” He asks you, “My place is closer than the library. That’s like a forty minute walk, fifteen minute drive. Mine’s only a five minute walk away.”

You stand up and made your way toward the door, stopping before you could exit, “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to get me in bed.” And with that you finally left the room, leaving Peter to blush once more.

At the end of the day you met Peter by his locker, you got stares but you waved them off, he opened his locker and you were met with the sight of a little lego man, a whiteboard and a whole load of notebooks and like three backpacks. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You just observed. Peter finally shut his locker, and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking and you took that as a signal to follow, your pink and white air max’s pressing onto the floor. The two of you didn’t speak on the way to his house, nor on the way up the stairs or as you walked into his room. It was odd seeing it. He had a bunk bed, you didn’t know what for since he was an only child.

Maybe for when Ned sleeps over? You thought to yourself.

He had multiple Star Wars posters on his walls and a desk covered in papers and notebooks and more backpacks were sat in next to it. How many backpacks does this kid have? What didn’t help you was the fact that they were all the same, same style, same colour. You didn’t speak on it though, if the kid collects backpacks, he collects backpacks.

Peter was sat on his desk chair and noticed you just standing there, doing nothing, but before he could say anything you took a seat on his plaid sheets. Looking around the room you made eye-contact with his things, his trinkets. His LEGO Star Wars figures. You had only ever talked to Peter in class so when you were in his room it made it seem all different and weird, you felt squirmy sitting in here. Like you couldn’t.

“So we should start on the project, right?” Peter questioned you.

“Uh,” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth. You looked over at the door and picked up your black and white backpack and stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t know what was happening you but you couldn’t sit in there anymore. You couldn’t deal with looking at Peters things, the things that make him more than someone you just made snarky and mean remarks to.

Peter followed you down the stairs, “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU GOING WE NEED TO DO THE PROJECT.” By the time he made it down the stairs he saw you sitting next to the stairs in front of his building. Your head in your knees.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, you didn’t know what to say to him and he didn’t know what to do. So he sat down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder, and he expected you to shrug it off - but you didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” You speak, and he looks sort of surprised, he never expected you to ever say it. The girl who had picked on him for so long even when he started picking on her back, “Look, I’ve just- I- I never,” You didn’t know how to speak, “I was always jealous of you. You get good grades, you’re cute, you always know what to say, have the right answers. You’re just perfect.”

“Did you just call me, cute?” Peter laughed, and you whacked him softly.

“Shut up,” You smiled softly.

He returned the soft grin, “I could say the same thing,” Your grin got slightly wider, as you looked down at your hands. “Let’s truce.” Peter speaks up.

“Really?” You questioned him, “Don’t you hate me?”

“Look, Y/N, you’ve never been anything but rude, or mean, or snarky. But, I never actually hated you.” Peter talks, “Everything you said about me, I could say about you - I think the reason we always hated each other was because of everything that we have in common, so let’s think about what we don’t have in common and go from there, maybe we can actually be friends.”

“Okay,” You smiled, “Let’s be friends.” You stood up, “So let’s think of this as our project first and then we can do the actual project. We’ve got weeks.”

“That’s probably cause the project is supposed to take weeks.” Peter retorts.

“Shut up, Parker!” You laughed.

When the two of you got back up to Peter’s room, you took a seat on his bed once more, all of a sudden it wasn’t scary anymore. It didn’t seem like the world was closing in around you as you looked around.

“So let’s start, clearly, your favourite movie is Star Wars - mine is Now You See Me, there’s something about hot magicians that turns me on. Does Leia do the same to you or?” You comment with a smirk.

Peter’s eyes go wide at your comment, “I- uh- I’m-”

“Relax, Parker, I’m kidding.” You lay back on his plaid sheets, smiling up at the ceiling.

You and Peter start brainstorming ideas of what you could do, building off of what you had said earlier, something simple with a twist on it. It seemed like a good plan, but simplicity is often the hardest thing to do. You sighed as you looked up at the wood planks of the bunk bed, you don’t catch it but your eyes start to close, until they do and you doze off, falling asleep. You hadn’t noticed it but night had fallen over New York, and then you woke up, Peter nowhere to be found. You were still in your clothes from the school day, but your hair was fucked up and there was mascara and lipgloss smudged on your face, a blanket was over you though, a blanket that wasn’t there earlier. However, your breath tasted foul.

You stood up feeling slightly lightheaded as you saw the texts from your mother on your phone from not too long ago, 10mins it read next to her name, so you clicked on the contact and called her.

“Hey mum, sorry I’ll be home soon I just fell asleep at MJ’s is all.” You explained, you didn’t want to tell your mum you were at a boy’s place. Especially Peter’s, after you talk your mouth off about how much you hated him.

Your mum lets out a sigh of relief, “Okay good, I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” You can hear her smile through the phone.

You picked up your black and white backpack for the second time that evening, walking out the door to be met with a lady with large frames on her eyes, “Who are you?” She asks, “I knew Peter told me he had someone over, now I know why he wouldn’t tell me who.”

“My names Y/N,” You told her almost regretting it when her jaw dropped.

“OH MY GOD, no way, you’re the last person I expected to see here, Peter never shuts up about how much he hates you, honestly, I think he has a crush on you. I’m also his aunt May by the way,”

You laugh at her rambling, “Well, I’m the last person I’d expect to see here too, but Miss Grundle put us together for a project.” May nodded, “Speaking of Peter where is he? I wanna say bye before I leave.”

She tenses a little, but then relax’s, “He’s at the store buying us a chicken, because I can’t cook to save my life.” She smiles, “You’re welcome to stay.” She offers but you shake your head.

“My mum is expecting me home, so I’ve gotta go, but thank you.” You smile kindly.

“Well, maybe next time then,” She returns a smile.

“Yeah, next time.” You walk out of the apartment, closing the door behind you, you didn’t know why you felt so happy but you did.

You and Peter Parker were friends and you were happy about it.

[donutloverxo]

Kissing under the misletoe w/ Andy

*gif is not mine*

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated❤Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings - dom/sub undertones, boss/employee relationship, implied age gap, jealous Andy.

Word count - 1.3k

7 days of ficmas

“Mr Barber,” you called out, knocking on the door that was slightly open, before entering, he looked up at your from the paperwork giving you a small smile, “We’re all wrapping up for the Christmas party, you’re coming, right?”

You blinked at him, subtly jutting your bottom lip out to give him your signature princess eyes, because you knew what his answer was going to be.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can make it. I think I’ll just go home and work on some of these cases,” he replied, gesturing to the heaps of files on his messy desk.

He often picked up the slack during the holidays because he didn’t really like to celebrate much, or so you’d heard, you had only been here for about half a year.

You expected him to tell you no. You didn’t know how someone so effortlessly charming can be so anti-social. If he ever did come for drinks after work or at an office party, he’d just hover and not speak unless spoken to.

Since he was the DA and everyone’s boss, they were more conscious around him. Except you of course. You didn’t think he was meek, it didn’t really make sense for a lawyer to be so shy...

“Please?” you blinked, “I’ll be so bored without you...” dropping your voice just a little to get the message across. Jutting your titts out by pressing them together with your forearms, hoping to entice him some more.

You weren’t one to chase a man. Nope. They chase after you. But if Andy really was shy then you’d have to do something to get the gears going unless you wanted to die an old maid.

He cleared his throat, running a hand through his brunette hair, “I’m sorry, Y/N, you’ll have to go without me. Maybe I’ll be at the next one?”

You only huffed, stomping your foot and then storming out over to your desk. You had been Andy’s secretary, or assistant or whatever, for over six months. You thought he was as into you as you were with him. He often got you coffee or your favorite sweets, you had caught him staring at you more times than you could count.

Then there were those lingering touches, or how he’d remember everything you ever tell him about yourself, or how he’d laugh just a little bit too much to any stupid joke you cracked.

Surely, you weren’t imagining all of it. Maybe he felt that you were too young for him, or that he couldn’t be with someone he works with.

“And then I got his wife to testify against him,” Neil said, cracking a crooked smile that made you shiver, “I haven’t lost a single case this year.”

Lie. He most definitely had, Andy loved to rant about his incompetence to you.

He had been acting like a creepy old man since you started working here, he wasn’t your type, he annoyed the fuck out of you.

But... nothing would piss Andy off more than you being with his bff.

Besides, you didn’t want to be alone on the holidays and he was the only one who seemed to show any sort of interest in you...

“Hm.” You hummed as you tuned him out once he started talking about where he gets his suits.

“So, what are you doing for the holidays?”

“Not much really, I don’t want to go home this year, my family can be a bit too much.” You answered.

He held onto your elbow, whispering into the ear over the festive music, “You wanna get out of here?”

You nodded. Collecting your coat you followed him out but he still wouldn’t stop fucking talking as you both waited for the elevator.

If only to just shut him up, and because you hadn’t felt any sort of intimacy, not even so much as a hug in the past year.

You pulled away when you heard someone clear their throat, your heart hammering in your chest as you feared of being branded the office slut.

“Oh,” you let out when you saw Andy come out of the elevator, giving you a look before staring Neil down. “Hey...” You're not supposed to be here.

“Neil,” he said, his hands on his hips.

“Hey, man, have fun at the party, we were just taking off,” Neil looked at you, probably hoping to get out of there.

“She’s not coming with you.”

Which made you huff. Putting you in an awkward position because yeah you’re obviously not going home with him now but who the fuck did Andy think he was to tell you what to do.

“What?” Neil scoffed before looking at you for an answer.

“Yeah, I um... have to help Mr Barber with something,” you told him before apologising and following Andy to his office. If Neil was upset, he didn’t really show it, telling you that it was okay and you’ll both get together some other time.

“Close the door behind you,” Andy instructed.

“Did you forget something? I didn’t know you were coming... or I wouldn’t have...”

“Wouldn’t have what? Made out with the first man you laid eyes on?” he quirked a brow at you.

“It was hardly making out,” you rolled your eyes, “I have a friend who’s from Europe and she kisses me on my lips all the time!”

“What constitutes as ‘real' kissing to you then?”

You hummed in thought before pulling him over to the window, where you had hung up some mistletoe while you were decorating his office, you pointed up at it

“It’s more festive this way,” and then crashed your mouth over his, he tasted like coffee and peppermint from the candy cane cookies you baked and gave him as a Christmas present.

You released all your pent up tension and feelings into that one kiss, massaging his tongue with yours, caressing his cheeks over his beard, not pulling away until you literally couldn’t breathe.

“See,” you wiped some of your lipgloss off of his mouth with your thumb, “this is real making out.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he spat, his mind still a bit dizzy, “From now on, you’re not going to be kissing anyone.”

“What? You don’t get to tell me what to do! Not after work hours, and let’s see,” you looked at your wrist, “it’s after six!”

Taking a hold of your forearm, digging his nails into your skin, “Stop playing games,” he sneered

“You’re the one who’s been playing hard to get since the beginning,” you mumbled.

“Fine then. No more games from now on, you’re mine.”

“Just like that? I don’t get a say in it?” Not that you would ever even consider rejecting such a tempting offer...

“No, you don’t, since you decided to go and be a bad girl. What am I going to do with you,” he shook his head. Before stealing another kiss from you, he was already addicted to the taste of you.

He thought he could stay away from you, trying to deny his growing feelings for you, he didn’t want anyone questioning your accomplishments or how you get them. So he returned home with a heavy heart but he missed you and your festive spirit too much, so he came back, to maybe tell you how he felt, only to see you in another’s arms...

“Um... maybe you could let me off with a spanking?” you cheekily suggested.

“You’re definitely on the naughty list this year,” he said and then gasped, a bit taken aback, when he felt you squeeze his ass.

“Ha! I knew it! I knew it’d be the most perfect piece of ass ever.” You laughed like a maniac, grabbing two handfuls of his buttcheeks and then pressing your face into his chest, his body heat warming you up in the nicest way as he wrapped his hands around you to hug you.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, patting your hair, “because we’re going back to my place. And I’m going to teach you a lesson or two on apprprite office etiquette.”

“Mm... okay.” You usually hated lessons and lectures but this one sounded promising.

[yunhoiseyecandy]

𝟽 ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ (ᴍ)

✕ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴘ.ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

✕ ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟷.𝟿ᴋ

✕ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴘɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ɴᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ

✕ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ — ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ꜱᴇx ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜɪɢʜꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ, ᴀᴛ ᴀ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪᴏʀ

─────

here you were again, at some useless party that your friends dragged you to. you were never a fan of parties just because the thought of drunk, teenage bodies and random strangers making out in the corner never was really your way to de-stress.

 sure, some people made fun of you for always being stuck inside your dorm and not “socializing enough”, but what did that matter? while you were in bed studying for a final, your roommate was out at one of the local’s parties, which she seemed to do pretty often.

you never really thought much about the teasing and harassment, but tonight was one of those nights. the nights where you had to study because something in you kept letting you know that if you didn’t you would fail. so when your roommate came home and started bugging you again about being such a bookworm, you’d finally had enough.

"if I say yes to going to some lame party with you tomorrow, will you please stop bugging me?” the number of emotions you saw cross her face was too many to count. “wait, really?!” “yes, but you have to promise to never leave my side” “mhm sure, whatever” “ I need you to promise me, okay..” she paused, letting a couple seconds of silence lay between the both of you before she spoke up saying, “I promise!”, before running out the door to go get a drink with one of her friends.

you huffed when you realized that she most likely won’t keep her promise. you had finished your assignment, closing your laptop before lulling yourself to sleep, oblivious to the actions about to take place tomorrow. 

your day went on as if it were any other day, up until it was time to get ready for the party. “you’re going in that?” your friend said as you finished pulling on your jeans, unbuttoning your grey cardigan at the top. “is there something wrong with it?”, she gawked at you as if you had just tried talking to a plant.

“oh, I don’t know just- everything?” you pouted at her words, wondering if you really did look as bad as she’d made it seem. you never really took the way you dressed that seriously, always putting your studies first. “girl you look like a damn grandma, come here-” “no I don’t-”

about an hour and a half later of throwing clothes around the room and then deciding you’d go in something she had, she pulls you in front of her mirror asking you if you like it. “it’s… different. but I don’t hate it.” she smirked before pulling out some mascara and lipgloss. “you’re already pretty, but they’ll just enhance your features” you’ve never really worn makeup before.

sure maybe once or twice, but she was putting on so much of it- too much of it. “I don’t know about this. what if people stare?” she had finished applying the lipgloss, asking you to stand back and look in the mirror, saying you look fine and maybe you’ll get laid. you had a pretty strapless dark pink dress on with a simple leather jacket hanging over your shoulders, some black boots that tied the outfit together.

“oOo what about seonghwa, you still like him right? I’m pretty sure he’ll be there tonight!” you gasped, moving to swat at her arm, but she sadly dodged it. “he would never even look my way.” you had a crush on seonghwa since senior year of high school, never even trying to get his attention since you knew it’d never work out. 

-time skip-

“who’s house even is this?” you asked when you guys pulled up to some random house, walking up the stairs and closing the door behind you. “It’s yunhos, you’ve heard of him, right? he’s a super sweet guy, and really good in bed. lemme tell you, he’s so good with his fingers and tongue, oh god. and he’s so big I-“ you didn’t give her a chance to finish before you went over to a stand with some (what you assumed to be juice, but were not) drinks.

you picked up one of the cups that were lined up, smelling it before you put it down because it smelled like pure alcohol. you decided to play it safe and go with a water bottle that was in a cooler along with some beer bottles. “hey, do you want water or something else-” you cut yourself off when you realized that your friend was no longer in sight. “that son of a bitch.” you cursed lowly under your breath. “guess I’m alone for the night, that’s just fucking great. so much for promising to stay with me.” 

since you had nobody to talk to, you decided to make the most of your night and explore the rest of the house. walking upstairs, you had a hard time trying to not trip over all the people standing at the bottom, but you managed. the first room you decided to explore looked like it belonged to someone that did not care about cleanliness. you got claustrophobic easily so you quickly decided to move on to the next room.

this one was far more pleasant to walk around in. the bed was made, and a fresh basket of clothing was placed at the edge of it. you noticed that they had a lot of frames hanging up, so you decided to see if you recognized any of the people in the pictures. your eyes widened when you realized that you were in- “what are you doing in here? If you haven’t noticed, the party’s downstairs, sweetheart.” you stepped back from the frames, a blush creeping up your face.

“I-I’m sorry seonghwa, I didn’t know this was your room,” he looked at you for a second before saying that you should get out, and to which you quickly agreed to. you rushed downstairs, your friend calling your name asking you to play a game with her and a couple of friends.

-time skip-

“shouldn’t there be more people?” a guy named wooyoung asked. “yeah, they should be here in a few minutes.” you laughed at mingi when he responded. you could just hear the annoyance laced in his voice. you couldn’t blame him because wooyoung had asked the same question fifty times within the span of five minutes. “I wonder who else is coming, we already have about thirteen people, how much more do we need?” your tone was laced with annoyance. you’d all been waiting thirty minutes on one single person. who could possibly be that important? 

and as if on cue, the last person you wanted to see right now walks through the door. “eyy finally, man! what were you doing, folding clothes?” everyone except for you and seonghwa laughed at sans joke, seonghwa shaking his head in annoyance. “can we just get this over with already?” he asked, clearly over this whole idea already. “yeah, of course. who’s ready to play?” yunho said, trying to calm all the voices in the room.

“we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven, right?” jongho asked, nodding when yeosang shook his head yes. your heart dropped. 7 minutes in heaven? you’ve played games before, but never one like this. “girl, I think I’ll pass,” you begged your friend to let you go, but she just pulled you to the ground. everyone followed, sitting in a circle on the floor. “so… who wants to spin first?”

about ten minutes passed before you had to spin and to not only yours but everyone else’s surprise, it landed on the one and only park seonghwa. your eyes widened before your eyes slowly met his, only to be met with no emotion in them. “I-I think I’ll pass.” “girl no, you have to go! It’s park fucking seonghwa!” Your friend whisper yelled at you. “I-I can’t-”, but before you could object, seonghwa was pulling you up by your arm and into the closet, shutting it behind him.

it was silent for a moment before you heard Jongho yell, “I don’t hear anything going on. are you guys just going to stand there or-” “shut up!” you’ve never heard seonghwa yell before, but you’re not gonna lie- it was kinda hot. “we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want t-” that was all you were able to get out before seonghwa was shoving you up against the wall, pinning both of your hands above your head and whispering lowly into your ear. “are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting for this since 12th grade.”

you gasped when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, releasing your wrists so he could pull down your panties. “s-seonghwa, ah fuck,” you screamed when he shoved two fingers into your mouth, him groaning at how fast you took them in. “shit baby, you’re so fucking good for me. I bet your pussy's soaked right now, all for me, right?” you moaned, begging him. “fuck I need you so bad, please.” 

he quickly pulled his fingers out of you, turning you around. you heard the sound of his belt, and then you heard his pants fall to the ground. he pulled his cock out of his trousers, opening the condom and sliding it on. “do you want me as much as I want you?” you moaned, grinding back to feel more of him. “yes, fuck please more.” he pulled your hips into him, sliding in easily because of how soaked you were. “ah, shit!” you tried to keep it down because of the thin wall between you and the rest of the group, but you lost all of your senses when his pace quickened. 

“fuck, baby, you like this don’t you? the feeling of people being able to hear you, screaming for me and only me.” he pulled your head back roughly by your hair and sucked on your tongue before spitting on it. “swallow” you swallowed, looking up at him and moaning when he hit that perfect spot inside of you. he groaned, speeding his pace up and reaching his hand down to rub eights around your clit. “fuck I’m close, so fucking close!” you screamed, pushing back onto him to meet his thrusts. “fuck baby that’s it, cum on my cock. just like that, doll face.” he felt you clench around him, him releasing into to condom before pulling out slowly.

kissing your shoulder, he pulled his underwear and pants up. “guys, your time’s up!” yunho yelled to let you guys know to come out. you pulled your underwear up, not sparing a single glance at seonghwa. you opened the door and left the room to go clean up, ears burning when you felt eyes burning into your back.

-last time skip- 

“how was he?” you groaned before looking over at her, not wanting to talk. “he was good, leave it” “oh come on, I’m just asking a question-” just as you were about to close your door to the car, seonghwa comes up to you and asks you if you wanted to hang out tomorrow. “why?” you ask, completely puzzled as to why he’d ask you out of all people. “because I like you, and I have for a while now. please?” you contemplated it for a moment.

on one hand, you thought maybe you should give him a chance. but on the other hand, maybe he just wanted you for sex one more time before he completely dropped you. you guess either he read your mind or he could tell how you were feeling because before any more thought could process he smashed his lips on yours. “a real date, baby. not just a hookup.” you smiled a little bit before getting in the car, shutting the door.

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

─────

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.5)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Robbery, Smoking

The smoke from the three burnt out blunts fogged the car. Erik’s head hung low as he tried to focus on the topic of discussion. Looking to his right he watched as Durk sparked a lighter to light up the fourth one and started a new rotation. Taking it from his hand Erik put the blunt to his lips and pulled. He had to admit that he was feeling high but yet nowhere near done with the session.

It was a Monday morning. Almost ten am to be exact. They were parked in Erik’s car in front of Frank’s Auto Garage. To a normal person it look like a regular place of business but it wasn’t. Durk used the shop to clean his money so he wouldn’t have anything tracing back to him. Erik glanced up and watched two corner boys walk out with a backpack each before getting into their vehicle and driving off.

“Aye man I appreciate you for coming through with this assignment. Once I get this nigga Shawn out the way I could finally do some business with the new connect.” Durk spoke before inhaling the blunt.

Nodding his head Erik slouched in his seat.

“I told you it’s nothing. Just don’t forget I’ma need one person to come with me. Someone who can watch my back.”

After going into almost two years without doing a job Erik felt a little rusty. He wanted to be certain that he could bring someone with him who could look out. Someone who he could trust that had to be skilled enough to keep up. The last thing Erik wanted was for this to go wrong and he end up in prison or even worst, dead.

If it was any other person coming to him to offer him work Erik would decline them with a quickness. This wasn’t something that he wanted to be a part of anymore. He had aspirations to become a better man. And with that, that means he had to give up the lifestyle to live a better one. But it was Durk. The man who had the opportunity to gun him down right in front of the trap house when they first met five years ago spared him. Gave him a second chance.

Erik witness Durk do way worst to people who didn’t do nearly as half as much compared to what Erik was going to commit that night. So he felt in a way obligated to come through for his best friend. There was no other option. He owe him his life.

“No doubt. Actually I got this one associate that’s in debt with me. Told him I could use his help whenever I needed him to pay me off. Heard he a shooter that don’t miss. Anybody who have your back I think it’ll be him.” Durk grinned confidently.

Erik nodded his head absorbing the information. Trusting his brother with whatever choice he went with he continue to ask him where the drop would be.

“Okay so what about this nigga Shawn. You got an address.”

Durk pulled out his burner. Going to a text message he clicked on it and passed the phone over to Erik.

He read over it. 4523 Lanely Rd. Pulling up his notes icon Erik typed in the address and saved the information. He gave the burner back to Durk. Realizing the area that it was in Erik shook his head. Nice suburban area where it was mostly Caucasian which amount to one thing. Nosy ass neighbors. It was a risk but he would just have to deal with it.

Hearing Durk sighed he studied him. His hands was rested over his eyes as he was leaned back in the chair. His boy looked stressed.

“You good?” A genuine tone came out.

“I think my sister fucking around with someone but I just don’t know who yet.”

Erik’s eyebrows lifted up. Glancing up to the ceiling as he listened carefully.

“I just really hope it’s not one of these fuck niggas. I might need yo ass for another job after this. We could rob this nigga together.”

The two chuckled.

‘Damn I can’t rob myself.’

Erik thought to himself before engaging back in the conversation.

“What makes you think she fucking with someone?” Erik curiously wanted to know. It would give him an advantage on what he should not be doing.

“Well the other night I walk in the livingroom and there she was sitting there with her titties all out, make up done like she was getting ready for a dick appointment or sum shit.” Durk replied in a stressful tone.

Daydreaming at the ceiling, Erik’s memory jogged back to her outfit from that night. He could still see the way her cleavage appeared in front of him as she sat across from him in the diner. The soft flesh looking at him. He had to control himself multiple times that night from staring at them so much. But he couldn’t with the way they would bounce a little every time she laughed.

Speaking of her smile. Erik adored that about her the most. He love how her lips curled up showing off those pretty white teeth. The way her lipgloss color made her lips appear more fuller than what they already were. The same lips that drove him crazy from the softness. If he could sit in the booth kissing her all night he would have. That was enough to satisfy him. Erik sucked in his bottom lip as if he could still feel hers on his. She just had to let him get a taste.

‘Why she let me do that?’

Erik berated himself with that question as he shook his head about his lack of self control. He felt guilty. He was the nigga who his best friend was worried about hurting his sister. Right now he was feeling like a pussy. It was like he didn’t have the balls to speak up and tell him the truth. He was feeling Amiyah.

“Why you don’t like her dating anyway? I get you trying to protect her but I mean she is 21, you can’t stop her from living bro.” Erik wanted to sound reasonable but without suspicion.

“I know she got a life to live but the fact that mine is tied up with hers don’t help.”

“What you mean?”

Durk paused glancing at his phone. “ I mean besides you I can’t trust none of these niggas man. What if whoever she talk to know that she my little sister? No telling what they’ll do to her just to get to me.”

Erik listened understanding his perspective.

“I done did some foul shit out here that I’m not proud of, you know this. This why I am what I am because if I don’t get them first then I know for damn sure they’ll try to get me. I’m just worry about Amiyah getting caught in between.”

To Erik it seem like Durk just wanted was best for his sister. To him family came first. It was important to him. He valued it and would do anything to protect the ones he love. Erik comprehend this.

“You worried she won’t be able to know who and who not to trust?”

“Every-fucking-day. That’s why I don’t want her going anywhere besides home and work. I just want the best for her.”

“You should that’s your sister. Just trust her. She not gon let you down.”

Durk looked at Erik, who gave him a sincere look. If there was anybody else he could trust with his life aside from Amiyah it was his friend. His brother. Erik.

____________________________

Amiyah leaned against the register as she wrote down her completed work assignment. Blowing the air out of her mouth she let the pen fall from her fingers and on to the counter. She was exhausted and ready to clock out and lay in her bed. Her mind began to wonder about the events that transpired over the weekend.

The last time she spoke to Erik was after he dropped her off. He sent a text asking if she made it in safely and that was it. Nothing else since then. His on and off again of inconsistency irritated her. She wanted him to be all about her just as much as she was for him. Of course under the circumstances they had to be cautious but he didn’t have to go another two days without hitting her up.

Checking the time on her Apple Watch she had an hour left before she was up and out of the boutique. She started cleaning certain areas and rehanging the merchandise back onto the racks to make time go by faster. Hearing the sound of the bell ring brought her back to reality.

“Welcome to Bella Ella’s.” She greeted them without looking up and only focusing on her task out of habit.

“Thank you. Hey girl!”

Peering in the direction of the voice she saw Alexis. She was going through the dress section. Amiyah sighed inwardly before walking over to her.

“Hi welcome back. Can I help you look for anything?” She faked a smile.

“Yes actually, I’m looking for something the same as last time just not too revealing this time. I want to tease him. You know?” Alexis sent her a smirk as she walked in front of one of the mannequins observing the clothes.

Hesitant but curious Amiyah asked her. “For another date?”

“Uh you can say something like that. It’s a surprise.” Alexis eyed her up and down.

“Well we have this ruched bodycon dress. It’s an off the shoulder long sleeve lace type of look. I think it’ll fit you. Check it out.” She handed her the dress.

Alexis put the dress up to her frame. Looking in the mirror she smiled at the choice of clothing. Shaking her head she grinned pointing her finger at Amiyah.

“See girl you get me. It’s crazy. Almost like we like the exact same thing.”

“You can say that again.” Amiyah whispered under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh I was just talking to myself. If you’re ready I can ring you out.”

They walked to the counter. Amiyah logged in and scanned the dress. Folding it up and putting it a bag she heard Alexis speak.

“Girl how do you do it?”

“Do what?” Amiyah answered confused.

“Work a nine to five. I mean don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just that I personally wouldn’t do it.” She smiled.

“ I like working honestly. I get to meet new people. I have fun here sometimes. This is where I met my best friend and I get to get away from home.” Amiyah shrugged her shoulders as she spoke truthfully.

Alexis nodded slowly. “Right. So are you seeing anyone? Anybody caught your attention?”

Laughing lightly Amiyah shook her head. “No. I met this one guy and gave him my number but nothing popped off yet.” She was talking about Cane.

“Hm if that don’t work out you should let me hook you up. I know a few niggas that’ll blow ya back out and then pay ya bills after.” Alexis grabbed her bag and started to walk away.

Before she could stop herself the question came out faster than she expected. “Is that what you do?”

She stopped midway before turning back around. Her face was contorted. Sizing Amiyah up as she stepped in front of the counter.

“Bitch I do whatever the fuck I have to do to get what I want. Even if it mean that I have to fuck around here and there. It keeps my bills paid and my nails from getting dirty. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.” She gave her one last look before she strutted out the shop.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. Taking a ‘How to get a man’ class from Alexis was the last thing on her list. Girls like her and Amiyah don’t mix too well. She just couldn’t understand how you could trade in time spent on a fake relationship just to get what you want with true happiness.

Her shift was finally coming to an end. Amiyah sent her brother a text fifteen minutes early just so he would be on time to pick her up. Looking towards the entrance her coworker Kacy was coming in to relieve her.

“Hey Kace, it was pretty much a slow day so there’s not any go-backs that you have to do. I would just try to act like you’re cleaning up. Look busy because you know Rhonda be watching the cameras.”

They both laughed.

“I know. She think she slick but go ahead and get out of here. Enjoy the rest of the day. See ya Amiyah.”

Waving goodbye Amiyah exited the boutique. There she spotted her brother waiting outside in his all blacked out Audi A4. She strolled in his direction and got in.

“Wow it’s been forever since you’ve been here on time.” She teased fastening her seatbelt.

Durk kissed his teeth as he pulled off driving to their home. “How was work?”

“Boring I do the same thing everyday.”

“So quit.” He took a quick glance at her.

She sighed irritated. “I’m not quitting my job Durk.”

“You the one who said it’s boring. Just quit.” He laughed.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. “Why? So you can keep your eyes on me 24/7. You always trying to babysit me, damn.” She snapped at him. The mood changed instantly.

Durkio’s jaw clenched as he turned looking at her with his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Babysit you? Where the fuck you get me trying to babysit you from telling you to quit-“

“I know that’s what your intentions are! Not that you care about me not liking my job but because you just want me to have to depend on you and ask you for everything!” Amiyah’s voice kept getting higher with every word.

“Miyah you already depend on me. That two thousand dollar bed that you sleeping on I brought that. Your whole bedroom set, I brought it. The apartment that you living in comfortablely without worry about having to pay one muthafuckin bill, is because of ME!”

Durkio’s hand gripped the steering wheel tightly as he parked in front of their building. He could feel his breathing began to spike as he felt himself get more agitated and angry. Getting out of the car he headed towards the entrance to avoid going any further with her.

Amiyah jumped out and followed closely behind going inside. The elevator ride going to their floor was quiet and tensed. Amiyah tried her best to not argue with her brother but she had more to get off her chest that she didn’t want to go unheard.

“You know you’re a fuckin control freak.” She slammed her purse and jacket on the couch one they made it threw the door.

Durk paused his steps from going into his room.

“How? Tell me what I do Amiyah.” He walked leaning against the counter with his hand folded over the other waiting for her to talk.

“Durk stop playing dumb. Everything that I do you have to be a part of somehow. Like the time I couldn’t take the job offer from the mall because it was ‘too far’. Or how whenever I want to hangout with Kelley you think I’m going to fuck some man-“

“That’s because you are! I know Saturday night you ain’t go out with no fucking Kelley dress the way you were. I’m not fucking stupid Amiyah.”

Amiyah got in his face. “Why would I go fuck someone and I’m still a virgin Derrick. I’m not dumb. I’m not just sleeping with any and everyone.”

Her eyes burned with tears threatening to fall.

Durk used his forearm to move her out of his space. It triggered him whenever someone would walk up to him with disrespect. He knew he would never put his hands on his sister but he didn’t want to feel the urge like he would so he gave her a light push.

“Miyah back the fuck up.” His jaws were tensed and his nostrils became flared out.

“So you can speak your mind but I can’t? I’m not your girl Durk so stop putting rules and regulations on me like I am. I wish our parents were still here so I wouldn’t have to be in this shit hole of a place you call home.”

Amiyah’s blood was boiling. She spoke without thinking. She let her emotions get to the best of her before she could calm down to try and talk to her brother like the young adults they were. But it was too late. She’d gone too far.

Durk shook his head before releasing a dark chuckle.

“You an ungrateful ass bitch, you know that?” His voice spoke lowly but loud enough for her to hear.

Amiyah looked at him in disbelief as the tears came down her face.

“I had to put my life on hold to take care of you. I put myself at risk everyday just to make sure you’re taken care of. So that you won’t have to go out there doing anything you didn’t want to do just to put food in your mouth and clothes on your back. And this how you show some fuckin appreciation?”

He looked at her confused.

“Durk I do appreciate-“

“Get the fuck out my crib.” His voice spoke coldly.

“What?” She unfolded her arms before she walked towards him.

“You heard what I said. By the time I get back you better be gone. Good luck supporting yourself with that weak ass job.”

With that being the last thing spoken to her he brushed past her shoulder and left. Amiyah waited in the same spot hoping that her brother would come back and just tell her to forget this whole argument. But he didn’t.The tears that she thought she had control of were now cascading down her face nonstop.

“What the fuck did I just do!” She scolded herself as her hands covered her face.

She walked to her room. Pushing her door opened her eyes scouted around the room taking in all of her belongings. Where would she go? What could she take? How much could she take without having a vehicle of her own?

Walking over to her bed she sat in silence. She had to think. She had to find away to get her out of the mess that she put herself in. Picking up her phone she dialed the number of the only person she could run to without judgment.

“Hey, Kelley.”

_______________________________________

Erik rolled up to Frank’s Auto Garage. It was time for him to go on the mission. His attire was all black to make himself easily invisible in the shadows. Getting out and walking to his trunk he popped it opened and lifted his secret compartment befor grabbing a duffel bag.

Closing the trunk behind he locked it using his key fob and walked to the front door. He banged four times doing the code knock before he was invited in. One of Durks look out men opened the door.

“Oh shit, what’s good E. You working tonight?”

Giving a silent head nod of approval Erik dapped him up.

“Ok. Well boss is in management. I don’t know what’s going on but he definitely not in the mood. Tread lightly man.”

Taking note Erik walked to the room where Durk was. When he reached it he saw him sitting at his desk talking to someone that he never seen before. Erik tapped lightly on the door making his presence known.

Durk eyes shifted up. “Erik what’s good? Why you knocking? You my brother, you know you ain’t gotta do that.”

“Didn’t wanna interrupt. What’s good? How you doing?” Erik gave him dap with a hug. When they pulled apart he looked in his eyes trying to find an answer. Durk was hiding something.

“Yeah I’m straight. But I want you to meet the person who gon be going with you tonight.” He replied quickly before walking back to his desk.

The guy that sat there quietly got up from his seat. From Erik’s view he didn’t look too much younger than him. He seen his attire matched his as he seen that the young dude already had some leather gloves and a ski mask rested on his head.

Erik gave him a fist pump. “What’s up, I’m Erik.”

“Cane. Nice to meet you bro.”

Durk watched the two interact before interrupting.

“Alright it’s almost 3am. Just got word that nigga Shawn was at the club,which should be closing now. If y’all make it to the address before him-“

“That’ll give us time to find an area to stakeout and then bum-rush him. Catch him off guard.” Cane spoke.

Durk turned to look at Erik before smirking giving him a ‘I told you’ look.

“Exactly. Listen just make sure y’all get the M and dip.” He was referring to the million dollars stashed away.

“I know how this go. Just make sure this nigga straight before we go out there. You know what you doing lil nigga?” Erik questioned Cane.

He kissed his lips. “Look man this ain’t my first rodeo and if I didn’t know what I was doing I’m sure ya boy wouldn’t be calling me.”

“Whoa nigga you owe me a solid. Don’t act like I need you.” Durk stepped in to check him.

Cane waved the two off.

“Aight I trust ya judgment Durk but if shit hit the ceiling, you bailing me out nigga.”

Durk laughed. “Nigga get fuck and go get my money.”

They dapped one last time and Erik left with Cane trailing behind him. He went up to a shelf that had multiple sets of keys sitting on it. Erik grabbed one before walking to the back. There were five different cars out there. He hit the unlock button on the key fob that led him to a dark burgundy Toyota. It was the getaway car for the night. Erik never used his own when he had to do jobs.

He opened the back door and place the duffel bag in the bag. It had two Beretta M9’s, an Ak-47, as well as a roll of duck tape and rope in case the situation went left. Erik got in the driver side. He heard Cane slipping in the passenger seat as he place the address in. It would take them 37 minutes to get there.

Glancing at the clock it was now 2:24 am which gave them plenty of time to find a place for a hideout. Entering the highway Erik and Cane rode in a comfortable silence. Cane every now and then giving Erik a quick glance over before turning his head.

Some time had past when they noticed that they were arriving in the neighborhood of the house where Shawn stayed. The houses were a few yards away from each other but Erik knew that they would still be able to hear the sound of a gun if one went off.

“If you park on this side that bush will be a blind spot. That nigga won’t be able to see us when he pull up.” Cane pointed to the area.

Erik shook his head in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Pulling into the spot Erik parked the vehicle and shut it off. The light from one of the houses landscape slightly shined in the car to make it possible for them to see each other as they waited.

“So you the infamous Erik I heard about. Ya name got some clout to it with all them licks you did when you was coming up.” Cane broke the silence.

Ignoring his comment Erik reached in the back unzipping the duffel and taking out one of the Berettas. He began to load the clip.

“I never thought I see the day where I would be doing a job with you. Heard you was one hard ass nigga”

Chuckling Erik stopped to face Cane. “What you want an autograph or something. Damn nigga you sound like a fan.”

Cane smacked his lips and then laughed.“Aight you got it. But nah I’m just showing respect to an OG.”

“I don’t look that much older than you.”

“Still one of the OG’s.” Cane showed him respect.

“I appreciate the courtesy. I heard some good things about you as well.” Erik was referring to his previous conversation with Durk.

Cane shrugged. “I do a lil sumn.”

Reaching in the back Erik pulled out the Ak-47 and handed it to him.

“So then you should be able to handle this then.” He was testing him.

“What! This is personally my favorite. This thing could make any nigga dance.”

Erik laughed watching the thrill of excitement in Canes eyes. He reminded him of himself when he was first getting started. Ready and down for everything.

The headlights of a Cadillac SUV caught their attention. It was Shawn pulling up. They watched as he hopped out the driver side.

“Heard this nigga keep one on him. You think he gon try and pull it.” Cane took the safety off of the AK. He was talking about his piece.

“I don’t give a fuck what that nigga got. He better not flinch.” Erik pulled the mask over his face. He watched Shawn walk to his passenger side and opened the door.

“Oh shit! This nigga got a bitch with him.” Cane blurted out.

“Plans don’t change. It is what it is.” Erik spoke truthfully. He had to get the job done.

Cane nodded his head and pulled his mask down. They watch Shawn walk to the front door with the girl following close by. Three minutes later the couple went inside the house.

Erik and Cane exited the vehicle making their way onto the front lawn. Staying away from the security lights they crept on the side. There was a side door that they found that lead right into the kitchen. Peaking through the crack of the blinds Erik spotted the two in livingroom sitting on the couch facing the opposite way.

“Let me pick this lock.” Cane bent down to eye level with it. It took him nothing but a minute to get it open.

Quietly Erik turned the knob and entered. Both him and Cane slowly tipped toe to the livingroom putting a gun to both of their heads. Erik had Shawn and Cane had the girl.

“If you want you and your girl to make it to see another day I suggest you to comply with my instructions and not try anything stupid.” Erik threatened as he cocked the gun.

Shawn froze in his seat as the girl next to him started to scream. Cane hopped over the couch and snatched her up by the arm.

“Bitch shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in yo head. You know what get against the wall and stare at that muthafucka.” He pushed her towards the wall.

“Y’all niggas know who I am?” Shawn finally spoke up.

“Yeah nigga. Why else you think we here? We just want the money. It’s simple.” Erik negotiated with him. He pulled him off the couch by his shirt.

“I don’t know what you talkin-“ He was interrupted by Cane hitting him in the mouth with the butt of his gun.

“Nigga quit fuckin playing with us. Run that shit.”

Erik shook his head but smirked. This was one reckless ass dude and he liked it.

The girl screamed again. Erik could hear the terror in her voice. It sounded like she was going to cry.

“You got five minutes to give us that money or you and ya bitch die. Which one is it? Yo life or some dead presidents”

Cane started to run the show and Erik let him as he sat back and watched.

“Aight nigga. It’s in the fucking safe.” Shawn spit the blood out of his mouth.

“Lead the way then bitch.” Cane pushed him and followed him to the back.

Erik was left alone with the girl who was facing the wall. From behind she had a bad ass body. Gazing over her wardrobe she was Burberry down and her fire red locks fell down her back. He kept glancing back and forth between the dark hallway and her back before Erik finally heard a few words slip out of her lips.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

The moment her voice reached his ears his face scrunched up. Walking up to her he turned her around to face him. Backing up he put his gun down shaking his head with disbelief.

The bitch that Shawn had with him was Alexis.

____________________________

Please excuse any mistakes! I will edit this chapter soon!

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[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - I am..WHAT?!

Henry Cavill x OFC Phoebe (Bee) 

Warnings: mentions of smut, strong language, unplanned pregnancy, sad fluff

Word count: 2.414

Author’s note: OKAY..one more to finish the year. I’m writing this while frying oliebollen (Dutch dough balls we eat during festivities) and my fingers are all sticky and sweet, but hey; I can’t leave you readers hanging on the last day of this miserable year! Kisses 😘

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

Phoebe was done with it all. Done with this week; done with the slump that was her life right now. She just worked through a week with three over-time shifts at the hospital, some annoyances with her new IUD and Leon. Fucking-fucktard Leon. 

But tonight she was going to be a big girl and suck it up, because heck; she was a good friend and tonight was Megan’s night. After long years of hard toil and shitty side-jobs, Megan had MADE it. She had gotten her first serious acting gig and tonight was the premiere, to which Phoebe would be her +1. 

Single girls unite. 

Sighing, Phoebe leaned into her make-up mirror, applying a coat of lipgloss to her pursed lips, heavy eyelashes fluttering. She never wore this much make-up, but it seemed like a thing you did when you went to such a fancy party. An A-lister party. Would Meryl Streep be there? She always had wanted to meet Meryl Streep. 

Smacking her lips to feel the stickiness of her lipgloss - why did people like wearing this crap? -, she moved out to the hall of her small apartment where she heard the intercom buzz. Alright. Showtime. 

‘Coming!’ She called to nobody in particular, hastily looking over the rows of shoes that were messily stacked by her door. Heels - heels - heels. And that scarf. Leon’s scarf. “Accidentally” left behind after he had come over to finally pick up the last of his things. She couldn’t stand the sight of it, and if it were a “good girl thing” to do, she’d shove it down the trash right now - like the trash he was. Cheater.

*tringgg* 

Hurry! -- Okay, shoes! Purple, brown, practical, no - no - no.. And then her eye fell on the perhaps a bit painful, but very much sexy heels she had once bought to wear for her 6th anniversary with Leon. Fuck-Me-Pumps. With silvery diamond straps and all. He hadn’t given two damns about them, about her dreams she had tried to talk about during that dinner - kids - but then again, Phoebe learned a year later why that was; CHEATER. 

‘Please bring me luck, babies.’ Phoebe mumbled, picking up the intercom that buzzed again. ‘Just putting on my shoes. Down in a minute.’ 

‘Alright m’am.’ A deep voice responded politely. 

Was that the driver? It must be the driver! They had a driver?! OH MEGAN, YOU! 

Excitement started to bubble in Phoebe’s tired bones as she realised that perhaps for tonight, things could be fun - painful shoes and all. 

Show-time. 

--

The water boiler gurgled lazily on the countertop, two pairs of eyes staring down at it, willing it to go faster. 

‘You didn’t respond to my text.’ Henry tried to keep a casual tone, but even with all his acting experience, the hurt was evident as his blue eyes swiftly moved over to Phoebe, who that had just knocked on his door after 3 months of radio silence. 

‘Yea...’ Phoebe cleared her throat and awkwardly leaned into the opposite kitchen counter Henry was leaning into. The tension was tangible and for a moment she scolded herself for pushing Megan to find out Henry’s address. 

‘..some..stuff happened.’ 

‘Is this the point where you’re going to tell me you’re married and your husband found out?’ 

Phoebe’s eyes widened and a chuckle escaped her lips, making Henry frown. ‘That might have just made all this a bit easier. But eh..no. I ..’ 

--

‘FEEEEBBsss where WEREEEE youu. Oh my god. Have you met..’ Phoebe could barely manage to stay balanced on her high heels as Megan’s hand dragged her away from the toilets - away from him - and onto one of the far corners of the crowded room where some mildly creepy man was waving at Megan. Megan waved back, but Phoebe could only focus on the burst of white camera flashes behind her, her eyes wishing to look if he followed. 

But Megan’s grip was tight and Phoebe was perhaps three shot glasses too drunk to stay on her feet AND look over her shoulder - the deep pink blush on her cheeks betraying that something was going on. 

‘..so I had this super fun chat with Michael. You know Michael right? I mean he was crazyyy excited about..Phoebe? Earth to Phoebe!’ Megan’s neatly manicured nail prodded into Phoebe’s silvery dress, awakening the blond woman from her over-shoulder stare when they finally had halted. 

‘Wh-what? Hi! Sorry. Eh..’ Instantly the deep pink worsened on Phoebe’s cheeks as Megan shot her one unbelieving wild eyed stare - she knew. Oh fuck, she knew. 

‘You know what - if you’d excuse us for a moment.’ Megan smiled charmingly at the old man that was checking her out for all the wrong reasons. 

Again Megan’s hand pulled on her arm, but this time they travelled less far, walking out to a more quiet area guarded by some heavy red curtains which offered a walkway for the staff who much resembled an army of tuxedo clad ants moving large trays of fizz around. 

‘You are 50 shades of red, hun.’ Megan chuckled, wiping some mildly smudged lipgloss from Phoebe’s chin. 

‘Oh, woops.’ Phoebe quickly mimicked the wipe on her chin, but the sticky residue was already gone - though other sticky residue on some other lips were most definitely still there. 

Shit, she had to get cleaned up fast. She wasn’t even wearing any PANTIES. DAMMIT. Oh my...how..why..Wobbling dangerously on her heels again, Phoebe lurched for one of the walls, a sudden wave of nausea coming over her as her red cheeks turned bitter green.

‘Awh shit Feebs. You OK? Eh..Ehhhhh...’ Nervously Megan looked around the stretch of the hallway, black and white tuxedos cruising deftly around with the patterns of a well-practised champagne carrying dance. 

‘Pfff...’ Phoebe tried to breath in deeply, inhaling whatever air she could muster in her suddenly claustrophobically tight lungs. Oh what did she do?!!! OH NO. Oh Christ. Good girls don’t shag in toilet stalls. Good girls don’t... ‘Pff - pff -pff’ With short little puffs she let out the air, but the nausea didn’t fade. How did pregnant women do that? Damn. 

‘I gotta go home.’ 

‘Yea-yea. Let me fix you a cab.’ Megan clipped her fingers and in a few minutes Phoebe was loaded into a cab, away from the bustling bubble of Hollywood A-listers and hot shots. 

The fairytale, was over. 

--

‘I got scared.’ 

‘Of me?’ Henry’s face pulled into one of agony, making him look even more disheveled with his wild curls, crumpled white shirt - which looked much too good on his large chest - and loose hanging grey sweatpants. 

‘No. I mean. Eh. Well. I lost my phone and..I called..and..someone picked up.’ 

‘Lea? Miranda? What someone?’ Henry stepped a little closer as the water cooker started to come to a slow boil. 

‘I don’t know. I -- They said they never heard of me, so I explained what..happened - oh fuck I shouldn’t have..I...pfffff. I panicked.’ A heavy blush crept over her cheeks as she nervously eyed the water boiler, the little lever moving back to “off” as the water danced in a heavy boil within.

‘Gr-green tea? English tea? Mint? I got some..’ Henry’s voice trailed off.

Phoebe shrugged and brushed a hand over her cheek, willing herself to stop blushing as the large stranger of a man brushed passed her to reach for the tea bags that were located just beside her head. 

‘Oh sorry.’ She quickly tried to get away, but Henry could only grin. 

‘It’s not funny, Cavill.’ Phoebe pouted shyly. 

‘Well you stood me up. I’m allowed to..smile, no?’ 

Phoebe opened her mouth to say something. Perhaps ask for forgiveness, or further her explanation to why she chickened out to trying again - and how she had even gotten his address. But no words came and so she just watched as Henry turned back to the task of making tea, bunching a few mint leaves in the two grey mugs that were settled on the smooth grey kitchen counter. 

This man sure liked his greys. 

‘I eh..actually ..had to tell you something.’ 

Even Phoebe herself wasn’t prepared for the words that had just escaped her lips, but there they were, earning a surprised quirk of Henry’s eyebrow. 

‘You don’t say.’ His lip curled into another cheeky grin and Phoebe couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Henry chuckled and hinted in the direction of the kitchen table. ‘Let’s sit.’ 

-- And that was a very good idea -- 

--

‘Meg..oh I’m in deep shit.’ Phoebe paced her small hallway as she waited for her friend’s voice to soothe her stomach fluttering nerves, her new smartphone clutched tightly in her hand. 

‘Oh- oh- wait a sec. Baby..yea..mommy is gonna be righttt there. Just a moment okay?’ A short pause followed and then Megan finally answered. ‘HEYY booo. What’s cooking goodlookin’?’ 

‘A baby, that’s what.’ 

‘W-what?’ 

--

Why didn’t he say anything? Phoebe nervously fingered the ear of her mug, waiting for Henry to give any kind of response to what she had just explained, and for the slightest moment she considered fleeing again - like she had numerous times when she tried to find the courage and call him, text him - anything. But that just hadn’t sat right, felt right. And then for long weeks she just pushed the reality of it all away. How could she be pregnant?! HOW?! 

The new IUD, that’s how. But, Henry had used protection; how much bad luck could one have?! So much for accidents that happen in cramped little bathroom stalls. 

Finally Henry made a noise, but it was more like a surprised squeak, then any normal sound a man his size would make. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Phoebe lowered her eyes a little more, taking it up as a; yea, this is not cool, girlfriend.

No, scratch that - she was not even his girlfriend. Ha! They were strangers for fuck’s sake. 

‘O-okay.’ Henry inhaled deeply and nodded, brushing a hand over the head of his dog, who was pushing a curious nose into his lap. ‘Okay. Wow.’ 

‘Yea..’ Phoebe swallowed thickly. ‘I..I’m keeping it either way. But..I thought..’ Her fingers had apparently curled around the mug so fiercely that it right about screamed as its small ear broke off. ‘OH FUCK.’ Her eyes widened as her lips turned into a shocked little “o”. 

Henry laughed. ‘Well, we better get new mugs before that baby is born.’ 

Was he being sarcastic? Phoebe felt like she was close to tears as the man before her cracked out the mug joke. Oh, why did she always ruin things?! 

‘Oh don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’s just a mug.’ Henry’s smile turned into a pained lip bite as he saw the silvery tears rim Phoebe’s eyes. But Phoebe couldn’t help it, her lower lip already shivering as she looked down at the broken little tea ear in her hand. 

‘I’m sorry..’ She whimpered pathetically, the first tears already beading down her cheek before Henry could push away his chair and squat down beside her. 

‘Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s..hey, come on now.’ 

‘I’ll *sniff* g-get a new..ha..new one *sniff*’ 

Henry smiled, slowly shaking his head before he carefully brushed his fingers through her golden locks, hooking them behind her ear so he could properly see her face. 

‘Bee..’ His voice lowered to a gentle hum.

‘It’s Phoebe by the way.’ She sniffled. 

‘Okay. Hello Phoebe.’ His hand folded around her hand that was carefully holding onto the broken off mug ear. Hesitantly, Phoebe looked away from her hand, right into the blue ocean that had drawn her in some three months ago from across the crowded room. She now too noticed a little fleck of brown in there - a little accidental mutation. Would the baby have his eyes? 

‘H-hi.’ She sniffled, trying her best to turn her lips in a smile, but it only worsened everything, more tears bursting from her eyes as the stress and chaos of the past months came crashing down. In an instant she felt herself be enveloped by large warm arms, a hot breath fanning over her head as Henry nuzzled her hair, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear as he spoke: 

‘It was just an accident, okay? No harm done.’ 

Phoebe nodded, but scolded herself anyways. Sure enough he was just talking about the mug. The stupid fucking mug. But what about the fucking baby?! Her..- his - baby. 

‘Phoebe? Bee?’ He settled back a little, his fingers brushing through her hair again. ‘How about we go sit on the couch and I make you a new cup of tea and we..’ He licked his lip as his eyes quickly flew over her heart-shaped, tear bruised face. He had to try hard not to unnecessarily coo over her. He didn’t want to chase her away this time. Especially not now. Not with this..situation.

A..baby?!

‘You don’t have to be so nice you know.’ Phoebe muttered, looking back at him. 

‘Well, too bad I’m a nice guy then.’ -- Who is going to be a dad!!! WOO! --  His lips curled in a sweet smile. 

‘Nice guys don’t shag women in bathroom stalls, do they?’ 

Henry cleared his throat at her sharp words, quickly looking down at his hand covering hers. ‘Yea..that was a ..bit uncharacteristic of mine. Ha..fuck..You know I scolded myself so hard for doing that. I-I sent you a pretty long Whatsapp message after, but..’ 

‘I never got that. Must be some syncing issue when I got my new phone.’ Phoebe’s lips curled in a watery smile. ‘The couch is fine.’ 

‘Okay.’ Henry’s smile grew a little. ‘Can you walk?’ 

‘Pff..Of course I can walk.’ She huffed, before she all but flew up into Henry’s chest in surprise when she was nuzzled by a very wet nose. 

‘Oh, I forgot to mention, this is Kal. My dog. And he likes the word “walk”’ - the dog borked softly - ‘very much.’ 

They both laughed and Kal’s ears perked up, his wet nose pressing in Phoebe’s elbow again, pushing her further up into Henry’s welcoming arms. 

The whole situation was weird, but as Henry felt how naturally they somehow melted into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his back, he could only smile. 

Sometimes accidents simply offered you the little push you needed all along. Be it in the form of broken mugs or babies. 

--

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[cestlestial-beings]

like that

Summary: Three times Sam and Dean have sex: 1. Dean visits Sam at Stanford and they find out they feel the same way about each other; 2. Sam confesses to Dean that he's a man, and Dean does his best to ease Sam's worries; 3. Years into Sam's transition, Dean enjoys Sam's masculine traits.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: FTM!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Word Count: 4600 AO3: Link

Notes:

Thanks to @jackklineisperfect for beta reading :) Any errors you find are my own.

Pronouns are based on Dean's perception, not Sam's identity.

Part 1/Stanford Sam looks like this.

More notes on physical transition for transgender men are included in the end notes on AO3.

Full Fic:

The First Time with Her

Dean fell in love with Sam when she was sixteen. One day, it just clicked. She was beautiful.

He would never act on it. She was four years younger than him, and they were siblings.

But every time he hooked up with someone else, he thought about her.

* * *

Dean visits Sam a couple of days before her birthday, two years into her time at Stanford.

He has no idea how she’s going to take it—they’d had enough angry arguments over the phone during Sam’s first six months that they haven’t spoken to each other in more than a year, despite how much Dean has wanted to—but here he is, in front of Sam’s apartment building, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

Finally the front door to the building opens, and Dean sees her.

His breath catches. She’s embraced her feminine side since she’s come to Stanford. She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and shorts that show off her long legs instead of the too-loose hoodie and jeans of her high school days; she has a wavy, shoulder-length hairstyle and bangs instead of a choppy, done-at-home haircut; and she has just a hint of makeup on—light eyeliner and lipgloss. She looks nothing like the frumpy, tomboyish girl she’d been when Dean saw her last.

“You’ve been standing out here for two hours. Are you just gonna stand there looking like a stalker, or are you coming to come in?”

He ducks his head and jogs up the steps to the door. Right back into her sass, before even a hello.

“You look so grown up, Sammy,” he says, as she walks him up the stairs to her apartment.

Sam smiles shyly. “My friends are really insistent on helping me with my style.”

No kidding. Dean’s never seen her look so much like a girl.

She leaves the stairwell at the third floor and stops at a door about halfway down the hall, then turns to him.

“Dean, why are you here?” she finally asks.

He gives her a wavering smile. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, Sammy.” He knows that doesn’t answer her question, so he sighs and adds, “I know I gave you a lot of crap for leaving me and Dad behind, but…” He shrugs. “I miss you. I’ll accept your decision if it means you’ll be in my life.”

“Awwww. That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes. All grown up and yet still the annoying little sibling.

And then she smiles, and it lights up her whole face. His heart melts, and he hates himself for it.

She pulls him into a hug. “I really missed you too, Dean.”

* * *

Sam introduces Dean to her roommates as “an old friend” which strikes Dean as strange, but he rolls with it. She grabs her stuff and they go out for burgers, talking about everything except what Sam left behind. The conversation is so natural, it’s almost as if the two-year gap since they last saw each other hadn’t happened at all.

Dean gives her a gift (a small stack of classic movies he knows she hasn’t seen but should) and buys her a milkshake. He sticks a candle he’d brought with him into the top of the milkshake and lights it, and Sam laughs when an employee comes over to tell them to put it out because it’s a fire hazard. As it gets dark, Sam takes Dean on a walk around the Stanford campus, pointing out certain landmarks as they go.

It’s almost ten at night when they get back to Sam’s apartment building. They stop in front of the building, and it feels like the end of a date, neither of them sure where to go from here. Something shifted in their relationship since they’d seen each other last; there was a new, unexplored dimension to it that hung heavy in the air between them.

“Where are you staying?” Sam asks him.

Dean points to the Impala, parked across the street. “That’s my room for the night.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she says, already headed inside.

“Won’t your roommates mind?”

“No,” she says. “They have boys over often enough, I don’t think they’ll care.” Dean feels his cheeks start to burn, and he can see Sam start to blush at the careless comparison as well. “You know what I mean!” she says, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Sam lays a futon out on the floor for him and gives him a stack of sheets before leaving to go through her bedtime routine. He sets up, feeling nostalgic for when they shared rooms as kids. You have to sleep on the floor because you’re younger, Dean would say after setting up the bedding on the ground, and Sam would throw a fit but finally give in, and ultimately Dean would give her the bed because he felt guilty.

Dean looks around the room, running his fingers along the back of the spines of textbooks and picking up picture frames with photos of Sam and people Dean doesn’t know.

Sam finally comes back into the room, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose AC/DC t-shirt. She’s so gorgeous that Dean loses his breath for a moment.

“Hey,” she says, shutting the door behind her, and it’s a little awkward now, since they’re alone, awkward like it hasn’t been all night. She bites her lip and pauses like she’s going to say something. It takes her a moment but she finally says, “There’s something I feel like I should tell you.”

“Hm.” He’s completely still, waiting for what she’s going to say.

She takes a deep breath. “Part of the reason I left was to get away from you.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, and he turns away.

“No, Dean, I…” She runs a hand through her hair. “I wanted you in a way that I wasn’t supposed to, so I ran. I ran because I was guilty, and scared. I just thought you should know, before you leave again. So you can know not to come back.”

Dean’s breath stops completely as he takes in her words.

She forces a laugh. “God, it was a mistake inviting you up here tonight when—”

He cuts her off with a kiss. She’s surprised but leans into it almost immediately, the tension melting out of her body. He thought this would feel worse. He thought this would feel gross, and predatory, and wrong. But he can tell how badly she wants him, so it just feels good.

He pulls back, just a little. “I want you too,” he says. “In a way that I’m not supposed to.”

She lets out a short, giddy laugh, and pulls him back in for a kiss.

He sits down on the bed and pulls her onto his lap, their mouths never leaving each other’s. His hand slips up under her shirt to cup her breast, and he’s surprised to note she’s still wearing a snug-fitting sports bra, even in her nightwear. She leans away from him and pushes his hand down.

“You don’t want to…?” he starts to say.

“No, I do. You can touch me anywhere but there.”

He doesn’t really understand but he doesn’t mind because there’s so much more of Sam to explore. He lets his hands roam down her back, across her belly, around the firm curve of her ass. He pulls her shirt off of her and helps her slide out of her pants and she’s here, bare in front of him in just her underwear and so, so beautiful.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and she nods, hungry. “Okay.”

He flips her over onto her back and takes a moment to pull off his own clothes. He feels self-conscious in a way he’s never been with other girls as he undresses in front of her. When his clothes are off, he crawls over to look down at her. Her eyes are sparkling and happy, the corner of her mouth just barely pulled up in a smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and now she does smile, fully.

He presses kisses down along her body, along her collarbone and arms and stomach—careful to skip over her still-covered chest, like she asked—and he pulls down her panties, down and off (lacy pink doesn’t seem like Sam’s style, but the thought only registers in his head for a moment).

He kisses her lower stomach, and he feels her gasp lightly, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pushes her legs apart for access and slides his tongue along her folds and up to her clit. She’s wet already.

“Dean,” she moans, and the sound runs straight through him to his rapidly hardening dick. She buries a hand in his hair while his tongue swirls around her clit. She tugs his hair a little bit. “Dean, I want you inside me.”

He slides back up and kisses the corner of her mouth. “Sure, baby.”

“Condoms in the second drawer,” she says, pointing to the nightstand.

He opens the drawer and rifles through it. There’s a couple of dildos, a vibrator, several sizes of butt plugs. “Sammy, you naughty girl. Playing with yourself, huh?”

Her face is in the shadow of his body, but he can still see her blush. She slaps his arm. “Just get the condom, asshole.”

He obeys. Fishes one out, tears open the packaging, slides it on. When he looks back at her, her lips are parted just slightly, her eyes hooded with desire. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She’s everything he’s ever wanted.

He lines himself up with her hole and she uses her hand to help guide him in. He pushes in and she gasps, pressing her head back into the pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. He slides in slow, letting her adjust to his presence inside her. She’s tight and warm and it feels so good it’s almost overwhelming.

Dean stops when he’s all the way in.

She opens her eyes and meets his, bringing up her hand to rest on the side of his face. “This is pretty fucked up, huh?”

Yeah, he wants to say. There’s a part of him insistently reminding him that it’s not too late to stop, to put things back to the way they were. To make their relationship be that of siblings, not whatever the fuck this is.

But he wants this and Sam wants this and he doesn’t want her to feel like a freak for her desires, so he says, “Less fucked up than everything else about our lives,” and she laughs softly before pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam keeps him close as he rocks into her, slow and sensual, and sometimes when he hits just the right spot, she’ll moan against his lips. Their bodies move together with a familiarity that only comes from having known each other their entire lives, though they’ve never known each other like this.

She comes with a moan, and the feeling of Sam clenching around him pushes him over the edge a few seconds later.

“Fuck, Sam,” he says, the pleasure washing over him in waves.

“Dean,” she says, and, breathing hard, she takes his face in both of her hands, watching the pleasure on his face with a satisfied smile.

He pulls out and flops down next to her, lying on his side so he can watch her catch her breath.

She brushes a lock of sweaty hair out of her face and rolls to face him as well. She grins. “God, you’re hot.”

“I know,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. He leans in close and kisses her forehead, the way he’s done since she was a little kid. He thought it would feel weird, a gesture of an older sibling right after sex, but it just feels natural. Like the physical intimacy they’d just shared was simply an extension of the emotional intimacy they’ve had their entire lives.

“Hey,” she says, running her fingers along Dean’s cheek. “I don’t have class tomorrow morning.”

“So...?”

“So you can keep me up tonight,” she says, and she winks at him, an awkward wink closer to a blink, and he laughs at her attempt to be sexy. Her cheeks turn red, but she scowls at him. So cute.

“Okay, I’ll keep you up tonight,” he says, giving her a quick kiss.

And he does, but they spend more time talking than fucking, and he’s so content. He could stay here forever.

* * *

Dean doesn’t call for a year, even though he knows he should. But what is he supposed to say, after a night like that with his own sister?

Finally he works up the nerve.

It’s a short conversation.

Sam is in a committed relationship now. She’s trying harder than ever to distance herself from her past, and Dean doesn’t fit into her new life.

It shouldn’t hurt like it does. Dean is the one who’d put space between them, and she was going to move on eventually. But he still feels hollow, and he doesn’t call her again.

The First Time with Him

Sam is having a breakdown in the motel bathroom and Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dean thinks she was set off by meeting Dean’s old flame Cassie, and Dean doesn’t know how many more times he can assure Sam that Cassie isn’t the one he’s in love with anymore, that Sam is the only person he has eyes for.

“That’s not it,” Sam said, but wouldn’t elaborate any more than that.

“Come on, Sam, just talk to me,” he says, resting his head against the bathroom door. “Please.”

“Give me some space, okay?” she says again.

He sighs, but there’s not much he can do, so he goes out and gets a couple of burgers and comes back. When he enters the motel room, Sam is sitting on the bed in a huge, oversize hoodie and a loose pair of Dean’s jeans, staring at the wall. It’s almost impossible to make out any of her form beneath the clothes. She’s been dressing in super loose, baggy clothes like that more often than not lately, and Dean doesn’t understand.

“Food,” he says.

Sam begrudgingly gets up and sits down at the motel room’s table, helping herself to one of the burgers. She munches on it silently, her red, puffy eyes carefully avoiding Dean’s.

She’d been so much more masculine by the time Dean had broken into her apartment to tell her Dad was missing. Away from her feminine attire and presentation she’d had the previous time they’d met, and back to a short, boyish haircut and masculine outfits that hid her curves. Anyone would see her as a guy at first glance, and probably at second glance too. I just feel more comfortable like this, she’d said, and then it turned out her committed relationship was with a woman. Dean was shocked. Had Sam really been a butch lesbian this whole time? Was what happened between them two years before just a dream?

It didn’t make him any less drawn to her, though. She was still Sam, with her piercing green eyes and sharp intelligence and a level of empathy and kindness that seemed miraculous, given the background she came from. And she was still drawn to him too—their relationship became physical a few weeks into working with each other again.

The closer physical intimacy meant that in the past couple of weeks, Dean has been noticing that some things are seriously off. Sam wears a tight sports bra every time they fuck and refuses to take it off. She barely speaks to him when she’s on her period. Sometimes during what he considers pretty vanilla dirty talk, she shuts off for the night. He chalks it up to hormones, but he knows it’s something more, especially now that she’d had a full breakdown over whatever it is.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Dean asks, not yet starting in on his burger. He tries to keep his voice gentle and even, to coax her into talking about what’s been bothering her so much.

She sets down her food and pushes it away. She absently taps the table with her finger like she’s trying to decide whether to share what she’s thinking or not. She’s still avoiding looking at Dean, and it’s starting to piss him off that she’s barely acknowledging him.

“Sam, come on,” he says, and his voice comes out harsher than he intends. But he’s tired of her brushing it off and pushing him away when it’s not something that either of them can just ignore. “You can’t just expect me to walk on eggshells around you, hoping that I won’t set you off about something I don’t even understand. Why the hell are you upset?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Come on, man, give me something,” Dean pleads.

Sam swallows. “I’m not who I am, Dean.”

Dean furrows his brow. Sam couldn’t be any more unclear if she tried. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m…” She gestures down at herself. “This isn’t me. It’s not me. I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“A girl.”

“I don’t get it.”

She takes a long, shaky breath. “I want—I need—to be a man.”

Dean supposes he should be more shocked by her declaration, but Dean has always seen her more as Sam than as a girl. And finding out she feels like a guy… Things just start to click.

All the times Sam had called herself Dean’s brother as a little kid, despite John and Dean’s frequent corrections. Excited chatter about how much she related to the boys in her most recent book. Complaining about not playing soccer at the same time she quit the girls’ soccer team. The complete withdrawal into herself as soon as she hit puberty.

Dean had always figured it was identity confusion because Sam had never had a female role model growing up, but that wasn’t what it was, not really.

And more recently—leaning into anything masculine while distancing herself from femininity. He remembered when a store clerk had called her “sir” the other day, and her face had brightened. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—it seemed a lot of people mistook Sam as a guy—but it makes sense now why it would make her happy.

“Okay,” he finally says, waiting for her to elaborate.

“‘Okay’?” she asks. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“I guess I don’t understand what this means, exactly.”

“It means…” She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “I’d be different, Dean. If you were okay with me starting hormones, it would mean I would look different, and sound different, and probably feel and smell different too.”

She laid it all out for him, but he’s still not sure he understands. He has no clue what the changes would look like on Sam specifically. He focuses on the one part of the sentence he did understand. “What do you mean, if I’m okay with it?” he asks. “The Sam I know would never ask permission.”

Sam picks at a fingernail nervously. “I don’t want to lose you,” she says softly.

“You’re not going to lose me, Sam,” Dean tells her. “I’m going to stay with you, I promise.”

“No, Dean, I mean… You’re attracted to women. Just look at Cassie. She was so… And I’m so…” Sam shakes her head as she struggles to find the right words. “I’m going to change and…” Her voice starts to fade as she talks. “You’re not going to want me anymore.”

Dean has no idea what to say. He can’t see any universe where he wouldn’t want Sam. He’s silent for a long moment as he looks at Sam carefully, thinking about what she would look like as a guy. Yes, he loves her body as it is now, the soft curves and smooth skin and feminine moans he pulls from her during sex. So what would it feel like to be with her, if it was different? Stubble and broad shoulders and a dick?

He tilts his head slightly. He’s never sought out guys, never really been interested, but he’d never really been averse to it either. If Sam became a man, Dean’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. He would miss some things, but he wouldn’t mind. His attraction to Sam is because she’s Sam, not because she’s a woman.

Sam shifts uncomfortably, his eyes still avoiding Dean’s.

“Hey,” Dean says, and his hand snakes across the table to take Sam’s. “I’m gonna love you no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah, but not like—”

“Yes, like that,” Dean says. “I loved you the way you were when I came to see you in college. I love you the way you are now. I’ll love you no matter what changes you or your body go through, okay?”

Sam’s eyes well up with tears. “Really?” he says softly.

Dean squeezes Sam’s hand and gives him a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”

Sam sniffs. “God, I tell you I feel like a guy and then start crying like a girl.”

Dean stands up and pulls Sam up to his feet too.

“Hey,” he says, taking Sam’s face in his hands and wiping away Sam’s tears with his thumbs. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dean pulls him into a hug and holds him close while he cries himself out.

Normally they’d look for their next job at the end of a day like today, but they take the night off and talk about where Sam is going to go next. How he’ll get hormones, if he’s going to get surgery, how fast the changes will happen.

Sam gradually starts to open up about it and get more and more excited, and Dean can’t help the warm feeling deep in his core. When Sam is happy, Dean is happy too.

* * *

Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms that night and only wakes up when the light streaming through the crack in the curtains hits his eyes.

He groans and rolls over so he’s facing Sam. He nudges Sam awake.

“Hey, handsome,” Dean says, and Sam blinks his eyes open sleepily. Sam smiles when he meets Dean’s eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Dean brushes a messy lock of hair away from Sam’s face. It falls right back into place. “Since you’re a guy now, would it be gay if we fucked?” he asks. He’s excited to try, now that he knows the feminine words to avoid and the masculine words to try out. Now that he knows what will turn Sam off and what might turn him on.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, does that bother you?”

“Can’t knock it ’til I’ve tried it,” Dean says. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to suck a dick.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

Dean starts to scoot down the bed and looks up at Sam through his eyelashes. “You mind if I give it a try, stud-muffin?”

Sam bites his lip. “Hey, I’d like if you never called me that again, ever.”

“Daddy?”

“Gross, that’s so much worse.”

“Lover boy.”

“Dean.”

“Little brother?”

Sam doesn’t object to that one, so Dean takes it as a green flag. Not a traditional sexual term, but he thinks it’s kind of hot.

While Dean goes down on Sam and listens to Sam’s moans, he realizes this feels right. Sam, a guy. It’s going to take some getting used to, but it fits. Things have changed, but they’re the same; it’s a new chapter, but still the same book.

The Hundredth Time with Him

It’s a few years later, sometime between near-world-ending events, that Dean wakes up in a motel bed with his arm draped over Sam. Dean still likes being the big spoon, no matter that Sam is bigger than Dean now. When Sam started testosterone, he bulked up big time. He’s huge and all muscle, but that doesn’t stop him from snuggling up against Dean.

Dean yawns and strokes his fingers lazily through Sam’s chest hair and Sam hums sleepily. He runs his hand down Sam’s side. Gone are the feminine curves Dean loved about Sam before, smoothed out and adjusted by hormones, but Dean loves the new shape just as much. And ever since the surgery they’d only had to commit light fraud to afford, Dean’s pleased that he can touch Sam’s chest wherever he wants.

Sam rolls over and nuzzles his nose against Dean’s. Dean strokes a thumb along Sam’s jaw, the stubble prickly under the pad of his finger. Dean hadn’t expected so much facial hair growth, but he doesn’t mind it. The scent of Sam’s aftershave turns Dean on just as much as the familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo used to.

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing a light kiss to Sam’s lips. “We should get up.”

“I don’t want to,” Sam mumbles, eyes still closed. He’d been up far past Dean, finishing up on a lead for some research, so Dean doesn’t blame him for wanting to stay in bed.

“Come on. We’ve got work to do. I’ll suck your dick if you come take a shower.”

That seems to do it. Sam groans and rolls out of bed. “Fine.”

Sam is too sleepy to do much himself, but Dean takes his time lathering Sam up with soap, scrubbing him all over his body with a washcloth. Sam is so comfortable in his body now, too, in a way that he never was before. It’s a relief to be able to touch Sam anywhere without Sam turning off or pushing him away.

Dean massages shampoo into Sam’s scalp and grins at the moan it elicits from Sam.

He shuffles around so he’s in front of Sam and gets on his knees, brushing his soaked hair from his eyes. Sam looks down at him through hooded eyes and buries a hand in Dean’s hair. Dean smiles and takes Sam’s dick between his lips, lapping at the tip and water running over it. Sam’s cock is still small, but it’s grown since Sam started hormones, almost an inch and a half long now, sometimes a little more when Sam is hard.

Dean slides two fingers into Sam. He knows Sam’s body almost better than his own, so when he curls his fingers, he finds Sam’s g-spot instantly. “Mm, fuck, Dean,” Sam says, pushing his hips towards Dean.

Dean takes his time, sucking on Sam’s cock and stroking his fingers in Sam, enjoying Sam’s panting and gasps until Sam comes with a moan. Dean feels himself start to get hard as Sam’s pussy clenches around his fingers. Dean runs his tongue along Sam’s cock one more time and then stands up. He meets Sam’s lips with his own. “Worth getting up for?” he murmurs.

“It was… adequate,” Sam says, and Dean punches his shoulder while Sam laughs.

“Last time I ever do anything nice for you,” Dean grumbles.

“Aw, come on,” Sam says, and he tugs Dean in, pressing their bodies close together. Dean leans his forehead against Sam’s and lets out a contented sigh. It crosses Dean’s mind, briefly, how far they’ve come. How far Sam has come.

How everything about Sam is different, except that he’s Sam.

And Sam is all Dean wants.

[unseeliekey]

kaemiu perhaps? :)

“At a certain point,” Kokichi told her, watching the blaze in the chemistry labs spread despite the best efforts of the sprinklers above, “it starts looking a little bit desperate.”

“Oh, shut up,” Miu replies, lifting up her pink-stained hands in surrender as the teachers of Hope’s Peak came flying down to catch them. “I thought we had better fire safety measures in place after fuckin’ Komaeda and the gym incident. These are science labs. I dunno why everything in them burns so goddamn easily.”

“It’s because you mixed a highly explosive powder in the pink dye,” Ouma sighs, giving a very annoying wave to the upperclassmen evacuating around them. “Which I told you not to do. Just get pigments from Angie like a normal person?”

She elbows him sharply, hands still raised. “As if your stupid fucking blueprints weren’t what spread it everywhere! You always leave them scattered around! This is a place of work, not a doodling workshop, you little twink bitch-”

Her next row of insults are cut off by a sudden boom from within the lab- the fire swelling too fast to process and proceeding to shatter every window in the lab with the heat of it. People are yelling, now.

Miu winces.

Kokichi looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, before leaning up against her with a grin. “Well, look on the bright side.”

She shoves him off her tit and resists the urge to pick him up by his scarf and give him a good shaking, like he’s a badly behaved cat or something. “What?”

His smirk only widens. “This will definitely get Akamatsu-chan’s attention.”

--

Homeroom, after school, one gorgeous girl genius stuck on the class side of the teacher’s desk, one not-quite as gorgeous but still stupidly pretty dumb stupid piano player on the other side, lecturing her.

Really, this is entirely Akamatsu’s fault.

If Akamatsu hadn’t been pretty and nice and somehow stupid enough to continually seek out Miu’s company, to stop by her lab and ask her opinion on festivals and school events even though everyone knows she’ll never agree to Miu’s brilliant ideas anyway, maybe Miu wouldn’t…. Appreciate her, a little. As a fellow intelligent blonde. So that’s her fault, for starters.

And, maybe if Akamatsu wasn’t the sort of idiot who liked to try and “increase class bonding” and “establish a good kinship with the rest of the school,” she wouldn’t have volunteered to host a school dance and put their class in charge of it. 

And if she hadn’t done that, Miu would have never had to watch her turn down a boy from 2A when he asked to go with her.

And she wouldn’t have realized that the idea of Akamatsu taking anyone else to the dumb, shitty school dance that Miu doesn’t even care about- fills her with so much restless, scratchy, jealousy that she can’t even think straight.

Straight. Haha. If Kokichi were here he would have laughed.

Anyway, the point is that when Akamatsu thumps her palms on the desk and leans forward, mouth all twisted up in a scowl and Miu is staring at her lipgloss and wondering what it tastes like, when she asks “just what were you trying to do?” the only answer is “impress you.”

But Miu actually thinks she might die rather than say that, so instead she pulls at her hair and tries not to pout too much. “We were helping! We were building a decorating machine- to help get the gym ready! ‘Cos you were whining so fucking much about how ugly the floor and walls were, batting your eyelashes like you were hoping Saihara would paint it for you-”

Akamatsu’s cheeks go apple-red, curling her hands up and pulling them back. “Ah, geez! That’s not true, and I wasn’t whining, and- and, anyway, how did you make a decoration device explode?”

She’s really hot when she’s angry. Miu thinks about how unfortunate this is for a solid three seconds. “Go big or go home. You wouldn’t get it, you’re too much of an artsy type- inventing shit like this is risk-reward!”

Something in Akamatsu’s forehead twitches. She inhales, like she’s forcing herself to remain calm. “Okay. Okay. Well, maybe next time, don’t take major risks on school property.”

“This is a fucking boarding school!” Miu snaps, gesturing wildly with an arm. “What, you want me to go request a town leave slip every time I gotta work on something?”

“If it’ll keep you from blowing up half the science labs, yes!”

Miu crosses her arms. “You’re just intimidated by my genius brain.”

Akamatsu rolls her eyes in response. She’s so annoying. Class rep. Thinks she’s in charge of everything. Thinks she can just boss Miu around all the time. This is her fault, anyway. “Yes, Iruma-san,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Your intelligence is what intimidates me, not your complete lack of ability to grasp the concept of danger and consequences. You- you could have been seriously hurt!” Something sparks in her eyes, and she’s leaning on the desk again, angry and passionate and annoying as ever. “You’re lucky you escaped with first-degree burns!”

“I had ‘Kichi with me!” Miu protests.

Akamatsu huffs. “Oh, and I’m sure he would have put your safety first.”

This is a somewhat fair point. (Not that Miu will admit it.) She kind of thinks that Kokichi thinks he’s unkillable, which is why he has so little regard for his own safety and also things like pain. At the same time, Miu also thinks she’s unkillable. That’s what makes them excellent lab partners. If Miu is Frankenstein, Kokichi is Frankenstein’s shrunken hype man who keeps passing him bang energy and surprisingly skillful blueprints to work on.

(Akamatsu, obviously, is Frankenstein’s adopted-not-sister with the pretty hair and eyes who loves him devotedly. Kokichi says that their relationship was fucked up and Miu’s critical analysis skills are flawed. Miu says that she doesn’t give a shit, she’s in it for the science and the drama.)

“Look,” she says, staring sideways so she doesn’t have to look at the almost hurt expression on Akamatsu’s face. “I’m fine. I’ve done this a million times before. And the school’s got insurance or whatever and they already said I can make up for it with after school projects, and-”

“That’s not the point!” Akamatsu cries out, throwing up her hands. “Iruma-san, you can’t- I don’t care if you’ve done this a million times! Sooner or later you’re going to get actually hurt, and excuse me if I don’t want to see that happen!”

Miu blinks. She bites her lip. She tries to fight back the stupid blush on her face.

Akamatsu sighs, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “You’re my friend, Miu,” she says, and the sudden switch to her first name is like a punch to the gut. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay? Especially not for some… silly problem I got flustered with.” 

Miu twists her hands through her hair, feeling like a kicked dog. “...It’s not silly. You’ve been freaking yourself out about it for weeks,” she mumbles. She doesn’t look up. “I… you’re arranging this whole big thing, and you won’t let anyone help you, and- I dunno. You were talking for ages about how ugly the gym was.”

“I didn’t say it like that,” Akamatsu protests, but a little softer.

Miu pushes her fingertips together. “Whatever,” she scoffs, and her face still feels all hot. Akamatsu called her Miu. “I don’t even care about your stupid dance, anyway, I just wanted you to stop being so fuckin’ whiny-”

Akamatsu leans over the desk. Miu feels lips, warm and soft, and a little tacky with lipgloss, press against her cheek. 

She thinks she might have died.

Akamatsu looks sheepish but pleased, her face all flushed pink again. “...How about next time, you just come and help me hang up streamers?” She asks, and somehow she sounds a little nervous.

She should be nervous, of course. She’s asking for the company of the world’s number one inventor, asking Iruma Miu to hang out as if she doesn’t have better things to do, as if she isn’t the hottest motherfucker around-

Miu can only nod, clutching at her own shirt. “I’d- yeah. I can- I can do that.”

And Akamatsu smiles like the sun is coming out.

[putas-in-suffering]

Fluff #65 with Angel or EZ

✨“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”✨

This took on a life of its own without permission. El espiritu de la puteria was with us lol!

“Bitch, don’t even act like you’re not in love with him.”

You nearly choked on your drink at your best friend’s bold words, thankful that the bar was loud enough to conceal the not-so-secret secret from wandering ears.

But she wasn’t wrong, she hardly ever was when it came to matters involving you, having known you long enough to consider you like more of a sister than a friend.

“Okay fine! So I love Ezekiel, y que?” You responded defensively, eyes nervously darting everywhere but in her direction.

“Does he know that though?”

You didn’t trust yourself to answer, so you took another long sip of your margarita instead. The bitter aftertaste of the tequila lingered on your tongue like the words you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say to your boyfriend. It was silly really, considering how long you’d been with EZ, but it still felt like such a huge leap.

She sighed at your silence, reaching out to place her hand over yours.

“Girl, what are you waiting for? You know he loves you too. I mean, the man looks at you like you’re his whole fucking world or something. It’s kinda gross.”

You smiled up at your friend, her validation meaning more than she’d ever know.

The thought of how much you loved EZ invaded your mind, the very look your friend described flashing through your memory, bringing tears to your eyes and a warmth to your cheeks. Tequila always made you sentimental, but you also knew it wasn’t the only reason to blame for the flood of emotions you were experiencing.

“I’m gonna tell him,” you turned to face her, your posture and voice suddenly confident as you dug around in your purse.

“If I can just find my phone....”

“Oh this thing?”

Your friend playfully waved your phone in her hands. It was safer in her possession than in yours, given the state you were in, but that didn’t stop you from reaching for it, nearly spilling your drink on the bar top.

“See, that’s why I’m not giving this back,” she laughed, tucking the phone away in her purse.

“Bitch,” you spat with a laugh, which she returned.

***

You stayed at the bar for hours, laughing and drinking until you’d both had your fill of both. It was last call when you grabbed your purse and excused yourself to the bathroom. You stumbled inside less than gracefully, catching your reflection in the mirror. You admired yourself for a moment, wondering if EZ would have liked your outfit, what he might have said to you if he was there, what he might do. The thought alone bolstered your confidence.

You set the purse down on the counter to look for your lipgloss, except the contents were completely unfamiliar. A small gasp left your lips at the realization that you’d grabbed your friends purse instead of your own. But you didn’t rush to return it, not when you knew that your phone was finally back in your possession. You held it in your hands like it was the holy grail, toying with the idea of calling EZ just for the hell of it.

Maybe it was how much you missed him or maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins, but you decided to call him either way. The rush had you bouncing on your heels, waiting eagerly for him to pick up the phone, to hear his voice on the other end of the line.  

After what felt like ages of ringing, he finally answered, but you winced at the sound of his voice, finding his panicked tone confusing-- the late hour not really dawning on you as a valid cause for concern.

“Hey, you okay?!”

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic actually,” you lilted, and EZ swore he could hear the batting of your lashes through the phone.

He smiled at the sound of your voice, happy that you’d had a good night out with your bestie. You deserved it-- you deserved it all, in his eyes. You’d been nothing short of patient and loyal, supporting him through all that came with joining the MC, and for that he would be grateful to you until his dying day. 

“Sounds that way. You drunk, baby girl?” His soft chuckle went unnoticed, but the implication for something else, something mischievous, was there. 

“Maybe so,” you giggled, now pacing the empty bathroom, twirling a loose curl between your fingers.

“Do you need me to pick you up or something, amor?”

Leave it to Ezequiel to be chivalrous when you were so clearly flirting with him.

“Or something...” 

Oh, so it was that kind of call.

Your sultry tone had him licking his lips, and despite his better judgement, he indulged you in whatever impulsive game you wanted to play.

“You by yourself?” His voiced had dropped an octave, sounding deeper, more dangerous.

“Yes, but I wish you were here with me.”

It was pointless to hide your neediness from him when he was always one step ahead of you, anticipating your every move, knowing you even better than you knew yourself at times.

“Yeah? And if I was, what would we be doing right now?”

“All sorts of fun things, baby,” you teased with a bite of your lip.

***

You leaned against the sink, skin balmy with sweat, the top half of your dress pulled down, chest heaving from the orgasm you’d just pulled from yourself. EZ grunted on the other end of the line, having reached his own peak, your name leaving his lips with a soft laugh. It was too easy to give into your whims, but there was no denying you.

“Fuck,” you swallowed thickly, trying to catch your breath.

“I love you.”

You spoke the words with such ease, as though you’d been saying them all along. You didn’t even flinch or think twice when they left your lips.

“I love you too, baby,” EZ confessed, his voice softer now, utterly vulnerable and sincere.

“EZ,”

Your response died in your throat as a heavy knock on the door starltled you back to reality.

“Put your fucking calzónes back on, cochina. The Uber is here,” your friend alerted you, with a little too much enthusiasm.

You visibly cringed, fumbling with the straps of your dress to regain some long-lost modesty.

“EZ, I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“See you then, baby,” he sweetly offered, making you smile one last time before you stood to face the music outside.

You wobbled slightly as you exited the bathroom, the blush on your cheeks not fooling anyone as to what you’d been up to, least of all your friend who had caught the tail end of the show.

“Can’t take you anywhere, I swear,” she giggled, hooking your arm in hers to lead you outside.

“Oh please, no te hagas la santa,” you shot back with a smirk.

***

The next morning you woke up grateful the room was no longer spinning, though the same could not be said for the splitting headache and dry mouth you were now cursed with. Tequila, that sneaky bitch. You laid around most of the day, until you got a text from EZ that made you jump out of bed and straight into the shower.

On my way, see you soon.

You got ready as quickly as possible, opting for a laid back look, EZ always did say how much he liked you without all the extras. You felt the thunderous sound of his bike rattle in your chest as he drove up, the anticipation of seeing him making your restless. He never had to knock because you always met him at the door, and today was no different.

You watched him as he walked up your drive way, imagining, not for the first time, what it might be like to see him come home to you every night exactly like this. To share a home with him, maybe even a life.

From the moment he reached the door you were convinced you never wanted him to leave again. He looked up at you with that smile of his, the one that made you weak in the knees, and you couldn’t help but melt. You jumped straight into his arms, holding him so close that you could feel the beating of his heart against your own.

“How you feeling today?” He spoke softly in your ear, holding you in his arms as though you weighed nothing at all.

“Better now that you’re here,” you beamed up at him as he walked you both further into the room.

You landed on the couch with an breathy laugh, legs straddled around EZ, who was all too smug at your placement on his lap. You talked about everything from life, to the MC, and everything in between until a comfortable silence took the place of lively conversation.

Your eyes were beginning to fall closed, the comfort of your boyfriend’s strong arms unmatched by anything, when his voice cut through the silence.

“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”

You stilled in the embrace, breath caged in your lungs at the blunt delivery of his words. The memory was fuzzy at best, the whole night had been a blur of liquor and laughter, but for as much as you wanted to deny it, you did remember. You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest, recalling how easily he had said it back, as though it had been on the tip of his tongue, aching to reveal the secret you both kept from each other.

“Well, it was a little more than that, remember, lover?” You smirked, wiggling your brows suggestively to diffuse the tension with humor.

“You’re lucky I love you,” EZ deadpanned, but a sly smile pulled at his lips soon after, his deep eyes fixed on yours.

“Yeah?” You playfully mocked, but your heart was bounding in your chest.

His face inched closer to yours, a rough hand cupping your cheek, lips brushing against yours in the whisper of a kiss.

“Yeah.”

Without skipping a beat, you closed the space between you, crashing your mouth over his in smoldering kiss full of longing and relief.

“I love you too,” you finally confessed without hesitation. “So much, Ezekiel. I have for so long.”

There was only a soft grunt before he pulled you down by the nape, kissing you with a ferocity you felt down deep in your bones. When you pulled away breathlessly, he was looking into your eyes, an overwhelming feeling so pure tethering you to him— the unbreakable bond of love.

[athenaquinn]

Strong Hand || Frank & Athena

TIMING: Present  LOCATION: Soul on the Rocks  PARTIES: @frankmulloy and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: A fae and a hunter walk into a bar... and then there’s Hughie.

Frank heard the reactions, born from her entrance alone, before he even saw her. Now that he looked up it was clear from his usual view from the bar that within the dim-lit picture that spanned out in front of him, something did not belong. A head of long yellow hair, to be specific. One, she was young. Two, she looked much too clean, too put together, to properly belong in the typical crowd that Soul attracted. Of course, that wasn’t to say that they didn’t take a liking to her. Frank watched as quiet fascination graduated to bold introductions; offers to buy her a drink, or bum her a smoke. Creepy-Joe remained stationary in his usual corner, watching but doing little else otherwise. Nothing offensive enough to warrant intervention so Frank returned his attention to the tasks at hand, cleaning and filling drink orders, all while keeping his attention outward for anything unseemly--or at least, by Soul’s standards. He didn’t notice how long time had passed or how long the girl had been sitting at the bar before she had flagged his attention. She was close enough for him to get a good look at her now and his suspicions were confirmed: much too young. Frank threw his towel over his shoulder, the usual distance of 6 feet maintained, “you got an ID for that order?”

She wasn’t stupid. Athena knew full-well that Soul on the Rocks was not her crowd. She’d lived in town all her life - which was certainly long enough and knew that of all the places to sneak into, that was usually the last on her list. The Bullet was where she preferred, and even though many of the people there had known her since she was a child they were alright with turning a blind eye and letting her order a proper drink. Sometimes, at least. However, she also knew that she was stubborn and that meant taking her fake ID and borrowing a leather jacket from one of the girls in her sorority and driving over to the bar. Part of her regretted the decision the second she opened the door and she felt all eyes on her - and though she loved attention, this was not exactly in the way that she typically preferred. Especially since most people in the bar were well-over the age of twenty-one and even over twenty-five or six. However, Athena was not one to back down from any challenge and so she tossed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at the offers to drink or smoke. “You know smoking kills you, right?” She bit back at one man. Before she could register his response, she felt her body tense up. Fae. There was a fae here and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly who the fae was just yet because there were far too many people backed into the bar. Taking in a deep breath, she made her way over to the counter. There was only one man behind the bar and she felt her skin crawl. Which meant he had to be the fae. Or at the very least she was in closer proximity to whoever the fae was. She pressed her palms against her thighs for a moment, grounding herself before she responded. “I do.” She flashed him a smile. Athena found that she regretted choosing a thin layer of lipgloss over the darker lipstick that Julia had offered her. She knew that she looked young, but usually a little flirting with a bartender made them forget that. Not yet willing to hand over her ID, she twirled her hair around her fingertips and leaned onto the countertop. Her skin was crawling, but she wasn’t going to give in. She was stronger than that. “I am admittedly newly twenty-one. Well, newly as in a few months ago.” She could feel the eyes of some of the other patrons on her. “Do you really need to see my ID? What’s the harm in a little trust?”

Frank recognised the lip-glossed smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes but if you tried hard enough you might be able to convince yourself that it did, artful twirling of her finger around her hair, the honey sweet tone that coated every word that came out of her mouth. Jake would have melted. Perhaps Frank would have too had he been younger, known less about what he was, what he could do. Before he had his good nature beaten out of him, not that there was any evidence on his skin as proof to the claim. The proof was ingrained in muscle memory and instinct, which manifested outwardly in carefully trained behaviour; like keeping his distance, and his hands, to himself—along with drinking himself into stupor in the hopes that it might dull the effect of any…influence that might have slipped past his guard. Which happened a lot more often than he liked to admit.

As she smiled up at him and Frank…well, his face was smoothed of any emotion to assume one of patient indifference. He was older now...and he wasn’t Jake. “Sure you are.” His arms were crossed over his chest, his finger tapping patiently against his side. While he might have let slide the little game she thought she was playing if they were at the Perfect Pint, the fact was, they weren’t. While it was of no fault of her own, Frank was also not oblivious to the eyes she attracted. “Look at where you are kid, you think this the sort of place that breeds trust?” He had half a mind to send her home now, though experience warned that- that was a sure road to a bad ending, one way or another. Then again, what did it matter? She wasn’t his responsibility, what the fuck did he care? He shouldn’t care about Ariana either but alas—he did care, and he cared now. Fuck. “Look, if you ain’t got an ID, I’m gonna send you home. Next time get a fake one or something.”

She noticed him watching her. Not that it was hard, being in such close proximity, but she felt uncomfortable regardless. Uncomfortable but necessary. Athena knew that she couldn’t very well kill this fae in the middle of a bar - though if there were a bar to do it, Soul on the Rocks seemed like just the place. Unfortunately, as unresponsive as he was to her hair-twirling, a man just down the bar was not - and he had to be at least in his late thirties. Athena rolled her eyes, adjusting her position - learning her arms further onto the bar, chin resting in the palm of her hand. She knew that she was attractive, and although the last thing she wanted was for a fae to be attracted to her (though how wonderful of an advantage would that be - what a way to get them all alone), if it got her something she needed, she could deal with it. It only further proved that she was good at masking her identity.

“I am.” She said, voice even. Her eyes narrowed at the kid remark, “well, I don't know, but can’t you just trust anyone?” Athena fought away the urge to smirk, instead letting her eyes grow wide. She was good enough at people watching to fake naïvety when the situation called for it. To fall into who she might have been if she and her brother shared more personality traits. “I do have an ID.” She slid it out of her wallet, handing it over to him. Joan Parrish, it read - not a total lie, though far from her real name - after all, she couldn’t have her parents getting in trouble, as they were upstanding members of the community. “Told you.” She tapped her nails on the countertop. “So, do I get a drink for free? I heard that sometimes if you’re lucky, that happens. I’ve already been offered that from other people here!” She could feel the cold iron of one of her knives against her hip, but she couldn’t use it. Not now. She could consider this a recon mission of some sort.

Frank answered her question with silence and a pointed look, his brows raised, as if the answer to the question seemed obvious enough that it needed no response. The word trusting and Frank could not be further opposites, anyone who knew him knew this, and even those who didn’t learned very quickly. He waited, watched, for the younger woman to produce her ID. When she does, he doesn’t take it from her hand, but waits until she puts it on the bar top. Joan Parrish. It was her face on the small card, and the date of birth proved that she was of age—if one was in the habit of trusting everything they read. Frank was not. Even if it didn’t, he seldom poured any great effort into inspecting anyone’s IDs, it was just a matter of doing his due diligence. Still doubtful of its authenticity, he returned the ID anyway (returning it to the bar top before stepping away for her retrieval). Her apparent confidence prompted an amused grin to crack over his lips, a chuckle building first in the depth of his chest which then formed the beginning of his words, “that might have worked on Jake kiddo, but I ain’t Jake. So I guess that means you ain’t so lucky tonight. Think about what you can afford and then get back to me, yeah?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, a particularly eager patron broke through the throng and claimed an empty seat at the bar. He’ll pay for whatever the little lady wants, he said and he smiled and he turned that smile to her, and then Frank wasn’t smiling anymore. “Fuck off Jerry,” the word sliced through the noise and he said them without hesitation. “If you think she’s gonna go anywhere with you, you’ve got another thing coming, so walk on.” The man—Jerry’s mouth opened as the beginning of a retort was forming, Frank turned his gaze on him again, and wisely, he thought better of it and slinked off. Frank’s height and general aloofness afforded him an influence that was untouched by any sort of supernatural advantage, this served him tremendously in a place like Soul, while it didn’t help him back any friends he’s convinced himself that he liked that just fine. He turned back to the younger woman, Joan Parrish, a little apologetic, he did just rob her of a free drink. “I mean, do whatever the fuck you want. You can call him back if you really want that drink, he’ll be more than happy to come back if he thinks he’s got a shot.”

Athena watched the man inspect her ID. The rumors that she’d heard about Soul on The Rocks tended to imply that she wouldn’t be asked for her ID, but considering she’d accidentally walked into a place of employment of a fae, she figured that luck was not especially on her side tonight. “I don’t know who Jake is,” she responded, giving a shrug. “This is my first time here.” First and last, probably. Though she wanted to find out more about the man - find out as much as she could. Even though she knew her parents would frown upon her being in the bar, if she could learn more about the fae, then perhaps all would be forgiven. That was, if they ever even found out what she was up to. She hid very little from them, which meant that they very rarely suspected that she did anything but what exactly she told them.

However, as another man came over and began offering to buy her a drink, looking her up and down, she twisted her lips into something of a half-frown. Even if he wasn’t way older than her, he was entirely not her type. This might have been a mistake, Athena was starting to realize. Continuing to realize, if she were more willing to be honest with herself. If nothing else, the dim lighting and completely not her style music were signs that she probably shouldn’t have even bothered coming.  He was defending her? The thought practically made Athena’s blood boil. She didn’t need defending, particularly not from a fae, but a small part of her figured that in any other scenario, she would be at least a bit grateful. It just had to be a fae, didn’t it? “Are you kidding me?” She practically spat. “No way ever. I do in fact have a solid head on my shoulders, and that means I don’t go off with strange men.” She was always deeply fascinated at how unaware fae could be when it came to who she was. Not that it was something she’d ever dare complain about, but it amused her all the same. “I think I’d like a hard cider though, and I can pay.”

“Clearly.” He said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, closed lipped and crooked, but still with its soft edge. Despite what his appearance, and his general demeanour even, might suggest, Frank was never very good at playing condescending or deceitful. Everything about him was always painfully honest. He was private, and liked his privacy, but was always truthful. Some might suggest the latter was the unfortunate side effect of his supernatural inheritance, but that was all Frank. While anyone’s introduction to Soul was a source of amusement, especially someone inexperienced with the bar’s particular crowd, a quiet wariness always hummed beneath the surface, ready to spring to action at a moment’s notice. “Ah—yeah, don’t worry about Jake. If you’re lucky you won’t have to know him.”

The cute coy-school-girl routine dropped for a moment, and the little tiger showed her teeth. A consequence of instinct and character rather than anything so superficial. People were always infinitely more interesting than the mask they put on for others. He wasn’t sure if she thought her little flirting game would work on him—and then he wondered whether he should be more concerned if he gave her an impression that it would—but if she failed to catch his attention before, she’s certainly got it now. “Kudos to you kid. You might actually survive this shit hole.” He said as he reached for the glass and began filling it with the question. Of course it’s a fucking cider. Soul wasn’t exactly known for its extensive cider collection, most opted for any option that got them the most drunk at the lowest cost. Cider was not exactly the bar’s drink of choice. “Your hard cider, Joan Parrish.” With the practice of one who’s done it a hundred times before, Frank slid the cider across the bar, the glass coming to stop at her hand with a gentle tap. His distance rule strictly obeyed. Ducking his head into the kitchen, Frank called to one of the workers there, one hand already in his jacket pocket to produce a little white box of cigarettes as he called for someone to get their ass out here while he takes his fucking smoke break. To Joan, he said, “you can pay Hughie for that cider, Joan Parrish.” To Hughie, he said, “Joan Parrish still needs to pay for her cider,” and added in a hushed tone, “and do me a favour, keep the creeps away from her please?” And then he was out the back door, a lone cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Not that obvious, mister.” Athena wanted to bristle. Did, internally at least. If he was so damn keen on calling her kid then she’d fire right back. That was all she could do, right now. She wondered for a moment if there were any hunters in the bar. “Why, is he so much more boring than you are?” There was a giggle that followed her words, one that was likely too light and airy - more carefree than she usually found herself. One that drew a few more eyes as she finally resorted to covering her lips with a hand, refocusing back on the man. Apparently, acting overly calm and eager could do something of a wonder to stop her skin from completely crawling, though a certain part of her wanted to pull at it, just as she did whenever there were fae around, and particularly the ones who looked human.

“Trust me, I’m good at surviving a whole lot of things.” He seemed clueless enough to what she really was that she doubted that he’d take that remark as anything beyond a perhaps overly-confident co-ed, and that worked just fine for her. She wasn’t afraid to bite back if some creep thought they had half a chance with her. Athena had to admit she was a bit impressed the bar had a cider - though she knew it was a decently popular drink, this bar seemed far more the type of place to just have mediocre beer - though she supposed the same could be said about any number of the frat parties she went to. She caught the glass easily, curiosity piqued at the fact that he was staying away from her, potentially from any possible contact. She filed that away in her mind for later examination, for later when she was away from the bar that was practically buzzing. With a certain energy that she found herself equally repulsed and intrigued by. Incredibly unlike the life she was usually a part of, and for a moment she found herself feeling naïve - at least to a certain level. I wonder if that’s what my brother feels like all the time, Athena pondered for a moment before looking back over to the man, who was now leaving. “You’ll be back, won’t you?” She called out, before focusing on whoever else the fae had sent to babysit her. “How much do I owe you?” She asked Hughie, looking him up and down before pulling out her wallet and pulling out a twenty. “This should be enough, right? When’s my friend coming back over? Can’t believe he left right in the middle of our conversation.” A small pout formed on her lips. “So, Hughie? Name or nickname?” She took a sip of her drink, not quite focusing on him, but instead on the direction where the other man had gone, as if daring him to come back.

Mister. Frank noted a hint of derision that was lent to the word, a childish retort that was probably meant to rebel against the label he had given her. It was precisely something a kid would do, and it prompted a faint smile to curve at the edge of his lips. Then she giggled, and it was an uncommon enough sound that it attracted even more curious glances, thirsting for the pretty young flesh that had so generously presented herself to them at the bar. This time however, the boldness stopped at the glances; no one seemed particularly interested in following in Jerry’s misguided footsteps, or at least as long as Frank was still working the bar. So business went on as usual, at least for now. “Nothing stopping you from finding different company,” he raised his eyebrow in a kind of challenge, leaned forward just slightly, while still keeping respect to his six feet rule, “let’s just say, you giggle enough times and you can probably get as many free drinks as you want outta him.” That alone, Frank thought, spoke volumes about his particular…character. There was a reason Frank and Jake didn’t get along. Although Frank’s insistence that he was a slimey asshole (usually to his face) probably burned any bridges they had for reconciliation, which suited him just fine.

“Are you now?” There was something about Joan Parrish that Frank had come to enjoy—almost endear. Or the very least, found to be a source of light amusement. A certain battle-hardened naivety about her that appealed. No normal person was so quick to declare that they have survived things, and it spoke to something that she did. An unknown history that Frank was not privy to, and was still debating on whether he cared enough to want to be. Or maybe she was just a kid who said things she didn’t mean. Either way, that was a little note he tucked away, to be revisited later. She was drawn to him, for whatever reason, that much was obvious, or she wouldn’t have called out to him. He was suddenly very self-conscious of his abilities, one that seemed to operate of its own volition, sometimes even without him knowing. He spared a glance back at her but didn’t answer, and found himself that much more eager to get out and get himself back together. “He’ll be back,” Hughie answered for him, “he takes a lot of those…his smoke breaks. But he works harder than anyone here, and closes up after everyone and throws the assholes out, so the boss lets him.” He was not as tall as Frank, and was a skinny looking thing that could have a few years over Joan, but was definitely younger than Frank. Not a fae, but charming enough to be, certainly a lot more forthcoming than Frank was. He took the money from her and busies himself with getting her change, “plenty, thanks—and no, Frank hasn’t got any friends. I don’t know if you’ve met the man but he doesn’t exactly scream friendly. And god forbid he comes within a mile of you, literally. The day that man actually hands you a drink, will be the day hell freezes over. Oh, name’s Hugh, but everyone calls me Hughie which I think sounds a lot more…” His eyes look between the girl and the door, and then he laughs, “that son of a bitch. A little old for you isn’t he?”

She could feel the eyes on her and she shrugged it off. Even if they tried something, and something about the fae behind the bar seemed to be keeping them away, but even if they tried something Athena had no qualms dealing with them on her own terms. If anyone asked, it was easy enough to say that she’d trained at her mother’s gym - or rather, Linda Quinn’s, since she wasn’t Athena, not right now. Soon enough she wouldn’t need the fake, but it was working overtime to her advantage right now. Both for getting her into the bar and for keeping her proper identity secret from the fae behind the bar - though her face would remain the same - but if it came to that - when it inevitably did, unless someone else got to it first - it wouldn’t matter. “Mm,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder before she refocused back on him, watching as he leaned just slightly closer to her. “Well, he seems like a skeevy kind of guy, then, though I appreciate the tip.” Her lips curved up into a smirk. “Good to know how to get free drinks if I feel a need for it.” She adjusted the jacket, a sudden chill rolling through her body, though she couldn’t tell if it was due to someone opening the door or the continued presence of a fae so very close to her.

“I am.” She replied. He didn’t reply much beyond that, didn’t ask probing questions that could have so easily come along with it. That sometimes did, if she happened to off-handedly mention it to anyone else. Which she usually didn’t, or followed it up with how tiring being pre-med was - which wasn’t a total lie. It just wasn’t as tricky to figure out as some of the creatures she’d studied. Studied and dealt with, though Athena didn’t find any of that too difficult in the end, either. She gave a small huff at his utter lack of response, but allowed herself to refocus on Hughie who was, thankfully, not fae. She let her gaze flick up and down, taking him in, letting a smile settle on her lips once again. “Well, hard work should be rewarded.” Athena had half a mind to follow him outside, because then they would be all alone - but it was too obvious, too easy to point to her, and besides, Hughie seemed certainly more willing to talk to her. She pocketed the change, not looking back behind her again - any of the other creeps in the bar were at least maintaining their distance, whatever else they were doing mattered little to her. Inconsequential, in the end. “Well,” she began, biting her lip in false shyness once again, “his tricks are something.” He didn’t like to touch people. Her mind was spinning, narrowing down to what he might be. Of course, there was always the chance of being an overly-cautious fae, but she also knew there were certain ones for whom touch played a role. “Hughie’s a nice nickname. I -” she couldn’t fight back another laugh of her own, still light and carefree, at his next remark. “Oh him?” Tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth, she weighed her options. “I mean, I guess? He seems to care so much though, and what’s not appealing about that? He is old though. Well, comparatively speaking.” She permitted her gaze to focus on the door for a few moments more - a few moments beyond what might have been typical, before refocusing on Hughie. “Nice of you to stick around and keep me company though, I do appreciate that.”

A light blush coloured his cheeks, but he never shied away from flattery. Hughie blossomed under praise and kind words, a stark contrast to his co-worker who bristled at them, and guarded himself against them with a defensive word or cold silence. A sure way to sever any ties before it had even a chance to form. That was Frank. Hughie threw his head back and laughed, and if the word honest could be attributed to any laugh, it would be his. There was nothing derisive or sarcastic, not even a waver that might suggest jealousy. “Trust me Joan, you would not be the first, or the last person, to think that—or the first or the last to try. That is if you’re into the whole tall, quiet, mysterious and stupidly good looking types.” A stroke of luck with his god-given genes, some might say. Though ‘lucky’ was not the word Frank would use, and despite being raised Catholic, Frank didn’t believe in God. “Although to his credit, I think he does care, like genuinely. He looks out for people, he breaks up fights—well, I say ‘break up fights’, but he mostly just gets his ass handed to him. And then he goes and pays for their cab so they can get home. I mean Frank can be an ass, but it’s hard to hate the guy.” Hughie noted once more her wandering gaze back to the door, for a split second too long, and a hint of pity was found in the smile that now shaped his lips. “He is old—comparatively speaking. Although I should probably also tell you that he hasn’t shown any interest in anyone. Not once, not as long as I’ve worked with him anyway.” When her focus shifted back to Hughie, he was all mush in her hands. His grin was all teeth, both stupidly sincere and shamelessly pleased. “I think you’re real sweet, Joan. I mean it’s not exactly saying much considering the types we get in here, but you’re a lot nicer to look at for sure.”

Hughie wasn’t the only one to think so. The bold gazes found new courage in Frank’s absence, and more of them were suddenly very keen for a drink at the bar, and their generosity extended to the young woman that was already there. “Come on man, she’s minding her business, leave her alone.” His warnings and protests were silent to ears that considered rejection a challenge. Hughie was kind, and to those whose language was aggression and violence, his kindness was taken as harmless. Frank was not harmless, and his return was marked with a brusque, “fuck off Jerry,” as he grabbed a towel from under the bar and threw it over his shoulder: smoke break was over. “I’ll call a fucking cab next, I won’t ask again.” Hughie, visibly relaxed by Frank’s return, dipped his head to whisper something conspiratorial to Joan, a barely concealed laugh colouring his every word, “calling them a cab is Frank’s way of a threat.” Frank, who’d heard the hushed exchange, did not find it equally amusing. “Fuck off Hughie.” If you knew him just enough, which Hughie did, you could hear a ‘thanks’ in there.

There was something certainly satisfying about knowing that she could get a reaction out of the other bartender. Athena settled into a comfortable smile again, letting her hair fall over her shoulders as her fingertips tapped against the cider glass. “Try?” She said, tilting her head. She supposed it was comforting - to a degree - that her recon was easily dismissed as a childish crush. She wondered about Hughie - wondered if he felt secondary to the other man - the one who was, apparently stupidly good looking. “Maybe I am, who knows, really?” She let one finger tract the divots on the counter stop, making eye contact with Hughie as she did so. Though she had no interest of a romantic sort in either of the bartenders, a little extra attention to the one that was quite possibly ignored for favor of a fae who could trick and manipulate those around time couldn’t hurt. Besides, there was something incredibly endearing about him. Hard to hate unless you know what he is. She shrugged. “He seems real noble, huh? Besides, I’m not that young, but I understand your point. It’s all comparative, hmm?” Hughie turned back to her and he had a similar look on his face to many of the freshman boys who she sometimes saw around campus. “I think I might be terribly offended if you thought I wasn’t nicer to look at.”

She made a face at the other men who had decided that now was the time to return to the bar. Well, the rumors about this place certainly hadn’t been exaggerated. It was sweet that Hughie was doing his best to fend them off, though Athena had half a mind to turn around and deck one of them herself. Particularly that Jerry character. Turned out that she didn’t have to, given that she felt her skin crawl again before she saw him, and watched Jerry slink away, another laugh - though a bit more biting this time - escaped her lips. She turned to Hughie, running her tongue over her teeth and raising an eyebrow at his words. “Well, hey, at least it means the general public doesn’t have to deal with them.” Athena settled back, offering a shrug. “He’s just helping me, and since his name isn’t Jake I figured it’s safe, isn’t it?” She winked at Hughie before taking another sip of her cider. “You know cigarettes can kill you, right?” A repeated remark that she’d given to one of the patrons, earlier. This time however, there was a hint of amusement that would suggest a certain playfulness. Not that I’d mind, even if you have kept these creeps away. “Will you drink with me, at least?” Her gaze flickered over to Hughie. “Either of you.”

Hughie answered her with a pursed lip and a pensive expression. He didn’t just wear his heart on his sleeve, Hughie was all heart. He had enough heart in him to give to every pretty smile and every kind word he received, and he gifted them freely and in earnest. And he needn’t bribe anyone with promises of free drinks to convince them he was charming, he just was. Perhaps it was this charm or his naivety or a combination of both that had endeared him to Frank. With the knowledge of the world that existed beneath Hughie’s mundane one and the creatures that lived within it (creatures like him), the latter had warned him of his habit, though Hughie never took much notice of it. That was just Frank being Frank, he thought and Frank’s warning had been abandoned long before Joan smiled at him. “Noble is a strong word. I mean, the guy’s still an asshole.” He grinned, and did not mind saying it aloud considering how often he’d said it to Frank’s face. Frank just grunted, which means it must be true. And it was. “Don’t be. You look very nice.”

His hand operated entirely on its own accord as Frank made drinks that he’s done a hundred times before, for patrons he’s seen just as frequently. He was still technically on the clock, and Joan wasn’t the only one at the bar. Even as his hands worked, his mind was elsewhere, he spared a glance, and an ear, at the two as they laughed to themselves (“Ew—yeah, Jake is his own brand of asshole. Definitely do not get free drinks from him,” Hughie chimed). He recognised instantly that wretched hand of envy as she grabbed his inside and twisted it, giving rise to the ugly feeling. He envied their distance, the literal closeness as Hughie lent over the bar to reach her ear. He envied that they can joke and Hughie could be charming and pleasant and have his company be enjoyed and know with complete certainty that the reciprocated amiability was a result of him, because what else could it be? The simple, magnificent, connection between two people. Truth was, Frank was all heart too, he was just always too afraid to use it. For good reason. He answered her words with a raised brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth; this was not the first time he’s heard this. Judging by her tone, it was not the first time she’s said it. “It can try,” he said, and it was casual enough to be taken as a joke, though the downward turn of Hughie’s lips showed that only Frank thought it was funny. That was because Hughie didn’t know that cancers don’t kill Gancanaghs, though Frank certainly smoked enough to test that theory. “I don’t drink on the job.��� Frank said, just as Hughie answered, “yeah, sure!” He turned to Frank, eyes silently begged for permission, and Frank hadn’t the heart to say no. Oh what the fuck. “You are paying for every fucking glass Hughie.” As if the kid had the tolerance to go for more than a couple of pints. “No one hears of this, or you’ll hear from me.”

“Eh, still seems noble to me.” Athena grinned. “I mean, I don’t think it’s best if I say anything about the second part, because he’s been nothing but more than civil to me.” She could comment, if she wished, about the fact that he wasn’t human, that his niceties could easily be a front to whoever he really was - but perhaps that was another discussion for another time. If she ever got Hughie alone, to poke and wonder just what he knew, though she knew that she’d have to be delicate in her questioning, given how entirely oblivious the vast majority of the town was. It meant she’d have to find some way to see him again that didn’t involve coming to a creepy bar that smelled far too much of tobacco. “Well, if you say so, I’ll acquiesce, I suppose I do look good and a compliment from you is better than the others out there.”

Athena kept her gaze trained halfway on Frank even as Hughie whispered in her ear. If he was one of the species that she figured he might be, she had half a mind to say that she was safe, that he couldn’t harm her. But instead she bit her lip, gaze torn between the two of them. “I’ve got no plans to get any drinks or talk with Jake, don’t you worry - but it is sweet of you to look out for me.” It was part of a game, because people usually based their opinions on how someone looked, and she knew that she didn’t exactly look tough. She let her grin turn open-mouthed, running her tongue along the bottoms of her teeth. “Well, it can, and I could tell you about the damage it does to your insides, but maybe that’s not proper bartop conversation, hmm?” Raising an eyebrow, she shrugged at Frank’s refusal to drink. She hadn’t expected either of them to agree, but she supposed that she ought to not have been very surprised when Hughie was jumping to agree. He reminded her a bit of a puppy dog, in a way that she did admittedly find a bit charming. Maybe the factor of comparison played a role, too - what with being compared with a literal fae and a much of thirty and forty-somethings who remained far too eager to steal glances at her, though a good number of them were at least somewhat ignoring her now that she was focused in on the two bartenders.  Athena took another careful sip of her cider, the playful and somewhat coy grin from earlier returned. “What will you be drinking first, Hughie?” she giggled. “Will Frank at least talk with us? I know I can provide better and more enlightened conversation than, well…” she waved her hand behind her. “Them.” She let her lips form into a pout. “Please?” Even if batting her eyes proved mostly fruitless on the fae, it didn’t hurt. Provide him with the sense that she was anything but a threat.

Hughie’s smile was wide, positively brimming with a lightness that did not belong in Soul. He’d tangled himself in the vines of Joan’s apparent loveliness and seemed to be in no rush to get himself out. Such was the romanticism of youth. Frank looked at the world through the cracks of the rose coloured lens, and it warned him to keep his distance; so he does. Hughie was too trusting, incredibly so. His smile said that he would throw himself to the wolves to ‘look out’ for the young woman sitting next to him, and Frank knew that he would sooner be ripped to shreds before he got a chance to save anybody, and if Hughie knew what was good for him, he would already be on his way back into the kitchen. “Thanks doc but I know what it can do,” to most humans anyway. “Don’t mean I’m gonna stop doing it.” Hughie turned to Joan, a resigned look on his face, and simply shook his head, “don’t bother. I’ve already tried. Many, many, times.”

Before Hughie could give an order, a pint of beer had travelled the length of the bar and stopped at his hand. He took a tender sip at first—nobody came to Soul to sample their most favourite drinks and the beer that Frank handed (or more accurately, slid across the careful distance of 6 feet) to him was far from his, but it was pleasant enough that the sip became a mouthful. “House lager,” he said, and after another mouthful, added, “it’s alright.” Frank, who was not attached enough to anything, much less the drinks at his least favourite bar, was not offended enough to give a reaction and continued fussing over some glasses for some more drink orders. Joan Parrish was a picture that resembled everything exquisite and delightful about youth. She was all play, with her pout shaped mouth and batted lashes, and the glimmer of something more secret behind pretty blue eyes. It charmed both the Hughie’s and the Jerry’s of the world. It might have endeared itself to Frank too had he let it, but true to form, he remained distant and detached, and answered with a simple: “Hughie can keep you company. He loves to talk, the trick is to get him to shut up…” Hughie launched into his objection at Frank’s accusation, but the latter’s attention was already lost. He was looking past them and out toward the middle of the bar, where the root of a brawl was beginning to take shape in the form of loudly traded words that graduated into a shoving match. “Fuck me.” He muttered under his breath. Frank doesn’t miss a beat, and tossed the towel aside as he carved a path out into the storm. The first fist of the night was thrown, and it cracked across Frank’s jaw with enough force to knock his head to one side. In fairness, the target was not Frank but the man behind him whom the bartender had pulled out of the fist’s trajectory at the last possible moment. Hughie winced, but didn't move from his seat. This was not his first fight at Soul, or the first time he’s seen Frank take a punch. He calmly reached over the bar, found Frank’s phone (punched in his passcode) and dialed a number. “I guess I’ll be calling the cab then.”

“Well, can’t say I didn’t warn you then,” Athena shrugged. She held a certain sort of delight with how much Hughie was smiling. It was almost enough to distract from the fact that there was a fae in this bar who was helping her and who she couldn’t kill. Almost. “Well, it’s good he has someone like you.” She didn’t laugh this time, but instead let her smile do all the talking. It drew less attention she found, and that was for the best, at least here. She was good at keeping secrets, keeping herself toned down when need be, though she did prefer to be more the center of attention usually.

Either these two did truly know one another in a way similar to how Athena knew Amanda, or Frank was just good at guessing orders or wanted Hughie to shut up. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, which was a bit of a source of frustration for her, but she had gotten better about dealing with her frustrations as she’d grown up. This wasn’t some chess game when she was little, when she’d get terribly annoyed every time her brother took too long choosing the next move when they were playing chess. How she’d once gone through nearly an entire box of colored pencils in kindergarten, snapping each one as she tried to color in a picture all while sensing that one of her classmates was fae, but when the feeling was still new and entirely consuming so much so that she couldn’t pinpoint it. Regardless, Hughie had his drink now and Athena didn’t drink beer, but she had half a mind to reach out and ask if she could try some. Perhaps she would, soon, but not yet. “The cider’s great, if you want to try that.” She replied instead, unable to help herself. “I don’t have any germs, I like to keep myself clean as possible.” She glanced back over to Frank, watched as he meticulously cleaned the glasses (though, Athena had to wonder, would the clientele here really care if one was a bit smudged with a questionably cloudy mark?). If this was to be counted as recon, and she had to count it that way - and learning any sort of habit was beneficial in the long run. “Well, I love to listen, so it works out just fine.” Except before she could do more listening of the man near her, she heard a fist collide with someone’s jaw and then Frank was moving over and apparently what Hughie had said was true, because he was trying to break the fight apart and Athena sat with quiet fascination, though outwardly she shifted her expression into one of concern. “I guess you will.” She said, turning back over to Hughie. Palms pressed against her thighs, she let her eyes grow wide. “Can I help you?” Tongue held between her teeth, she blinked just how she knew she was supposed to whenever something terrible was going on. “We can get drinks another time.” That much permitted a shift to a teasing smile. “I just - is Frank going to be okay?”

Frank doesn’t swing but sidestepped every throw hurled at him. For one as tall as he was he moved with remarkable grace, although it was probably very easy to look graceful when one knew what he was doing and the other two were flinging their fists around in desperate, drunken, Hail Mary attempts at hitting something…anything. To their credit some of those blind throws landed, others merely clipped him, though neither had enough force to do any real damage. Which was just as well. He has yet to have a conversation about broken bones that healed overnight that did not end terribly at worst, and very awkwardly at best. “Oh don’t worry he’ll be fine.” Or he was until one of those Hail Mary throws saw Frank’s cheek at the end of a fist. He stumbled, but recovered quickly enough before the second Hail Mary found him. “Yeah…He’ll be fine.” Said Hughie, more to himself now. “Walk it off Frankie! That’s a lad!”

It was a battle against time at this point; more energy was required to throw a punch than to avoid it, and they always tired themselves out in the end. It was a sort of dance they’d watched him do enough times that one would think they would eventually catch on. Alas, anger made for poor decision making and with intoxication at its right hand the outcome was a predictable one, although they always seemed very surprised when Frank outlasted them. And he always did. This time, he caught one by the scruff of his shirt, and the other by the arm (his hand on the sleeve of the other’s jacket), which Frank had pinned up against his back as he pushed them both forward toward the door. Moans and groans and a chorus of general dissatisfaction ushered them out; the fight was over though not many were very happy about that. Hughie who was watching the unravelling of the events very closely, Frank’s phone still held up to his ear, let out a breath of relief as he finished the last of his instructions into the receiver. “Yeah, for two people…separately. If that’s okay?…okay? Okay. Thank you.” Frank was already out of the bar at this point, he’d just caught a glimpse of him throwing the two (barely) fighters to separate ends of the curb as the door closed behind him. Hughie pocketed the phone and turned to Joan with an offer of a small apologetic smile. He’d wanted to impress her with a pleasant time, in a hopeful bid to get her to come back so he might see her again. He had liked her, and you don’t find girls like Joan Parrish in places like Soul on the Rocks. Although after what had just happened, he decided that it might just be as well. “I’m sorry, I have to go make sure he’s okay.” He had half a mind to tell Joan to stay put. The last thing Hughie wanted was to put her in the company of two men who, only moments ago, seemed bent on tearing each other, and Frank, apart—although the alternative to that option offered him little comfort. “Do you want to come with?”

Even Athena had to wince at the fight breaking out in front of her. She was used to training, used to fights designed for the purpose of bettering oneself and not for the purpose of trying to - well, she didn’t even know what the fight had started about. Only that it now involved two drunk men and a fae who she watched more carefully - that part held in certain fascination, watching his movements and the way he held himself. Just in case, she reminded herself. It was always important to understand how others worked - their bodies and minds. Particularly people like Frank. She glanced back over to Hughie, who seemed incredibly willing to cheer on his - friend? - Athena was not quite sure, but his eagerness continued to be fascinating to observe.

She bit her lip as the other men in the bar groaned as the two drunks were ushered out. This place really was something else, though Athena found that she did not entirely regret coming, if only because she had now discovered a fae who she had never found before. There was always the chance that she would have run into him elsewhere in town, but here she got the chance to be not herself and that permitted her a certain level of power. Though she very much doubted that he thought of her as vulnerable entirely (she could read his facial expressions well enough to know otherwise), he certainly had no idea what she was properly capable of, given an opportunity. She let her gaze shift back to Hughie. She almost felt bad for how much her lips turned to pouting around him, how much of a thrill she got out of his reactions - though at the same time she wasn’t entirely opposed to them either. She listened as he ordered cars for whoever was out there, drew designs in the water that had fallen from the condensation on her cider glass, both their drinks now long forgotten. “Don’t be sorry.” She let her gaze fall to him again, all softness and caring. Besides, she’d lost track of Frank as well - though she presumed he was outside with the drunks. “Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.” She hopped off of the stool and wrapped her jacket around herself. “That is, if you’ll have me, of course.”

Frank turned at the sound of the bar’s aged hinges groaning, a sharp word taking shape on the tip of his tongue, poised to command any over-zealous spectator that followed them out to take their sorry behind right back in. Alas the words never became more than a thought long forgotten as a mop brown-curly head emerged from the bar, a smaller blonde one following close behind. Frank’s surprise was not for Hughie, whom he’d already expected to come check on him, as he usually does, but was reserved for Joan Parrish. She was apparently not the little flower that shrank from a fight but rather a woman of firmer constitution that followed it out. Perhaps she was neither of these things, and was simply another over-eager spectator with the difference of a pretty face and a more expensive outfit. Although the way she regarded them, regarded him, Frank suspected that it was the former—either way, there was more to Joan Parrish than a pretty smile and a cute glass of cider, and he filed this little piece of information away. Maybe he would see her again, maybe he won’t, either way it didn’t hurt to know. Not that it made any great difference to Hughie of course, who perhaps did not realise the same caution Frank did, or he did and simply didn’t care. Even with Frank minding the two drunks, Hughie kept himself firmly fixed between them and her. “Your phone Frankie.” Hughie took a step forward, the phone in hand, but Frank stopped him and gestured to him to throw it over instead. Unknown to Hughie, he was edging much too close to Frank’s 6 feet, but he didn't question it (although the prospect of closing the distance between himself and the two violent drunks could have something to do with it) and did as he was asked. “And don’t call me Frankie.”

“Cab should be here soon,” Hughie casted an apprehensive eye on the two shadows that sat at opposite ends on the curb, Frank standing firmly between them. “You look…good.” You could practically hear the wince that seeped from Hughie’s face and into his words. The street lamp did him little favours on his split lip, and the dark purplish shadow that sat prominently against his cheekbone. Alas, Frank wasn’t looking at Hughie but rather past him, at the woman that had not said a word in this entire exchange. She didn’t look afraid but rather fascinated, and so was Frank. “Sorry about that ugliness back there.” He said. Hughie, as if realising that Joan was still behind him, a new development as far as Frank was concerned considering he hadn’t lifted his gaze from her since it found her, said rather sheepishly, “oh, yeah. I didn’t want her to be left alone with that lot back in there so I thought—” Frank didn’t give him the chance to explain, and went on as if he had not said anything at all. “Are you leaving too?”

She could feel Frank’s eyes on her, but it did little to bother her, to knock her off balance. Athena wasn’t so easily moved, even if he could practically see his mind working, as if trying to figure out who she was. Even if she never returned to Soul on The Rocks, she fully intended to run into him again, either purposefully or on accident. There was far too much that she was curious about, so much so that her curiosity seemed to have alleviated the chills under her skin. Which was something else she filed away - if she turned everything into work for the sake of curiosity whenever she could, then perhaps she could more easily work to stop feeling on edge every time she came near anything fae-related. She focused her attention back on the matter at hand, watching Hughie as he gave Frank back his phone, and she watched to see how much he would react to being so close. She had half a mind to try it a bit herself - and perhaps she would have, but the two now rather dejected but still fairly drunk men were not something she wanted to deal with.

She continued to watch the exchange between the two of them until she felt Frank’s eyes on her again. “I mean, I guess I should’ve expected that.” She shrugged, eyes growing just slightly plaintive. Athena realized then that perhaps Hughie had been a bit too focused on the phone return to notice her. Or remember that she was there, and she offered him a smile that said thank you for caring, or at least, she hoped that it did. “He was just trying to look out for me, I think.” Pursed lips and a shrug followed that. “I might be leaving.” She let her gaze focus back on Hughie. “Unless I was given reason to stay - but I think that given the experience with the patrons,” she looked back at the door, “given all that - you two have been real kind to me,” she forced a blush onto her cheeks as she looked between them, “maybe it’s best if I do go.” She pulled out her own phone. “Though,” she turned to face Hughie, “if you wanted to hang out without creeps hitting on me and without your boss having to break up bar fights, I’d be down.” She looked back over to Frank, “you should probably get some ice for that to reduce the swelling, though you took that better than I imagine most would’ve.”

“I’m not his boss.”

“He’s not my boss.”

Their words were said at the same time. Hughie, because he liked Frank too well to ever think to form an association between him and their actual boss. Frank, because—simply, he didn’t care to be anyone’s boss. His aversion to telling people what to do could be credited as a consequence of his supernatural abilities. It was also just as likely that it was just Frank being Frank, or maybe a combination of both. He watched as Hughie positively lit up at her invitation, his heart pumping a light dusting of pink to colour his cheek. “Yeah? I mean—yeah, yes! Of course!” He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans, and with visible effort to keep it from trembling, proceeded to put his number into her phone. “Christ…” Frank’s eyes turned heavenward, desperate to look at anything else that might spare him from further witnessing Hughie’s love-sick bumbling routine. He caught Joan’s eyes, and her remark prompted his hand to absently nurse the sore on his cheek. “I’ll live,” he said and tried not to think about the pain that was emanating beneath.

Sweet relief took the form of two cab cars as they pulled up against the curb, one after the other. Frank took the first of the drunks by the arm and stuffed him into the back of one cab, deposited some cash into the driver’s window and did the same for the second offender. He tapped his hand against the roof of the cab and the last car pulled away. Just like that, the night came to a sudden stillness and all seemed quiet once more. Alas, silence was a delicate glass and in the hands of drunken idiots, it could do little else but break. In the case of Soul on the Rocks, it quite literally shattered as the sound of glass breaking could be heard from inside the bar. A reminder to both Frank and Hughie that they were still on the clock. Dutifully and without a word, Frank stepped away from the curb and headed for the bar. For a brief moment, he met Joan’s eyes, and he didn’t falter but came to a deliberate halt in front (but still distanced) of her. “Don’t take this the wrong way Joan Parrish, but I really hope I don’t see you here again.” He said and ducked back into the bar, the door creaked open, bleeding sound into the night, and then closed behind him, and then quiet. This time it was Hughie who broke it, and he did so with a grin that he turned to Joan, “I think he likes you.”

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home Chapter Two: I Am A Heart

“I am a heart that’s hard to pin, You are an arrow sticking in” - hey ocean!: i am a heart 

Read Chapter One: Hometown here!

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: There’s a few mentions of death in this chapter. If you’re sensitive to it and don’t want to read this chapter because of it, I totally understand <3 A/N: This is a very long chapter, almost 2,500 words long, so I hope you all enjoy it, lmao. As always, this chapter has been checked for errors, but if you see any pls do let me know. I’m going to be inactive this coming week, because I’m taking a little staycation to a place with very limited wifi, so if you send me a message/request, it might take me a while to respond. But I will respond ASAP! I will also be trying to work on chapter three/other stuff whilst I’m away, but I REALLY need this break, so pls don’t get mad if I don’t write anything.

Again, special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop​, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting​, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Adjusting my hair and outfit in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, I sigh. “You look fine, stop adjusting your outfit...” I tell myself. “Nick’s not going to care how you look....right?” God, I’m a mess. Putting on yet more lipgloss, Jane’s voice echoes in my mind. 

“Both of you look so much like your mother. Especially you Y/N.” She was right, I did. Not that I had many memories of how my mother looked when she was still alive, but hours spent leafing through stacks of photo albums with my Nana and Katie when we were younger had made me more familiar with her and how she looked. She was gorgeous. I wish we had more time with her. If we had, our lives would be very different...and I would never have come to this town in the first place. Suddenly, I feel stinging sensation at my eyes. Aaaaand I’m crying. Great. Just what I fucking needed. A knock sounds at my door. 

“Y/N? Are you alright? You’ve been up here a while.” Nick’s voice sounds through the door. No, THIS is just what I fucking needed. Shit. Now he’s going to think I’m a total emotional weirdo who doesn’t want to spend time with him. Not that that was a TOTAL lie, I did want to spend time with him....just anywhere but here. Oh, he’s going to hate me. “If you’re not feeling well or something’s come up, we could do this another time?” Nick continues, and I sigh again. He’s so sweet. I can’t let him down. Quickly trying to stop the tears from falling, I open the door, and Nick smiles. “Hi. You look great.” I immediately blush.

“Thanks...Oh! So do you!” I gasp, trying not to seem awkward.

“Thank you.” Nick chuckles. He looks at me closer, and his eyebrows furrow together. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?” He asks. 

“Uh, no! It’s just...allergies.” I lie. “The dust in this house is terrible. So...shall we head out?” I ask, and Nick nods. The two of us walk downstairs.

“Byeeee you two! Have fun!” Katie’s voice calls from the living room. Oh, I’m sure I will. 

“So, what do you wanna do?” Nick asks as the two of us leave the house. 

“I don’t mind. I mean, we could go to the park, or for a coffee....or just, a walk in the woods?” I suggest. “Actually, maybe not the woods. There may be an axe murderer, or the big bad wolf or something.” I immediately cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth, and Nick laughs. Oh god, he’s laughing at me and how cringy I am.

“I mean, I didn’t personally think of that, but that’s a valid concern. I think we should take the park then.” He says, and I nod. “This way?” He points towards the town, and I nod. He sets off, leaving me standing there. 

Well, that went better than expected. Oh right, I better go catch up with him. 

“So, how long did you two live here?” Nick asks as we both walk closer into town. 

“Um, about...sixteen years.” I work out the maths in my head. “We moved here when I was four, and Katie was two. We both left to go to college.”

“Oh! I thought this was where you guys were born.”

“Nooo, we just call it our hometown cause we’ve lived here from such a young age. At this point, it feels like our hometown. We’re actually from New York City, and we both moved back there for college. I live there full time now. Katie’s in New Jersey.” I explain.

“Oh, what a coincidence! I live in New York too.” Nick smiles. “Small world, right?” I nod. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did your parents pick here to move? This place is nice and all, but it’s a lot different than New York.” He asks. A memory flashes through my mind. 

“What the hell do you expect me to do? I can’t look after them! This shithole is the best option, and you know it.” I shudder, hoping Nick doesn’t notice. 

“Um....just personal circumstances really. Our Dad wanted a change of pace and scenery for us. He thought the city was too busy for us to grow up in.” Nick nods, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted. I look up at the sky and see the leaves on the trees. Some were bright orange, whilst others were red. I sigh happily. “You gotta hand it to my sister, she picked one of the most beautiful times of year to get married.” 

“Yeah, beautiful.” Nick mumbles, and I look back over at him to see him looking at me. 

“What?” His eyes go wide.

“Nothing! Just agreeing with you!” He gasps, before continuing to walk. Okay, that was weird. I shrug it off and follow him down the street. After a while, we reach the park and begin to walk around together. The two of us are silent as we take in the scenery around us. The leaves crunch under our feet. I was right, this time of year really was beautiful. The cold wind blows, and I shiver. “Want my jacket?” Nick asks. 

“No thanks, I’m okay.” I smile. But come on, giving a girl his jacket? That’s so cliché...and so damn cute.

“Want to go on the swings? That might warm you up a bit.” He suggests. Another memory enters my mind.

“When’s he coming back?” I ask, tugging on her skirt. “I miss him.

“...Soon, sweetheart. He’ll be back soon. Why don’t you go and play on the swings and I’ll come over and give you a push in a minute?” She suggests, and I nod vigorously.

“Okay! See you in a minute!” I call, running towards the swings.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go on the swings.”

~~~

A few hours later, Nick and I were in the local coffee shop, chatting about everything from our interests to our time at college. “So when do you want to practise our big dance number?” Nick asks, taking a sip of his coffee. I sigh.

“Oh right, I forgot we’re meant to plan that at some point.” Nick chuckles. “So, what song do you want to pick?” Nick shrugs.

“It’s up to you, I’m okay with whatever.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Really? I don’t think Katie would be happy if we picked something like Baby Got Back to dance to.” Nick bursts out laughing. 

“You’re right. But it would be funny. Any suggestions?” I shake my head.

“I mean there’s so many...maybe something slow? Or something more upbeat?”

“Well we have some time, so why don’t we each make a list and pick one?” He offers. I nod. “You know, I had a really nice time today...” Nick begins. I smile.

“Me too.” And I actually meant it. Despite how much I was dreading this, it went better than I expected. My phone rings, and I take it out of my bag. “Hey, Katie...Yes, I know...Okay, I’ll be back soon. Bye.” I hang up. 

“Everything alright?” Nick asks.

“Sorry, turns out I’m urgently needed for some maid of honour duties, so I gotta go. Are you okay here, or do you wanna walk back to the house with me?” Nick waves me off.

“No, don’t worry, you go on. I need to take care of something in town anyways. See you later.”

“Bye, Nick.” I leave the coffee shop, and start the walk back to the house, almost feeling a spring was in my step. For the first time since being back here, I was happy. I was comfortable. And it was all thanks to Nick. I soon reach Nana’s house and walk inside. “Helloooo!” I call.

“Well, someone sounds happy.” Katie’s voice sounds from the living room. She comes out to greet me. “Oh. My. God. Look at the smile on your face!” She gasps. 

“I had a great time with Nick today.” I explain.

“I can see that. Guess my big sister has the hots for the best man, huh?” She teases. My eyes widen.

“No, I don’t!” My cheeks flush. 

“Mhm sure. Deny it all you want, I can tell. Anyway, come on you, we need to make the centrepieces.” I wasn’t in love with Nick. I may love spending time with him, but I absolutely was NOT in love with him.

~~~

That Night

"We are here today to honour the life of Rose L/N.” The priest begins. “She was a light in the lives of many, especially her two granddaughters, Y/N and Katie, who she is survived by. For most of their lives, she was also their guardian.” 

“He’s not here.” Katie whispers in my ear. I discretely roll my eyes.

“Of course he isn’t. He stopped caring a long time ago.” I reply. I find her hand beside mine and give it a squeeze. “We have to be strong together now, like she said. It’s just us now.”

My eyes open, and I look around the room for a moment to get my bearings. I’m still in my childhood bedroom. It was just a dream. A dream featuring our past. A past I had tried to run from. Of course, it found a way to find me again. It has a funny way of doing that. My eyes drift over to the bedside table, displaying a picture of Katie and I with our Nana from many years ago. I smile softly and run my fingers over the image. “I miss you, Nana. I wish you were still here. To guide me...to guide us.” Laying back on my pillows, I sigh and hold the picture close. “Maybe if you were still here, I wouldn’t be such a mess.”

~~~

One Week Later - Fifteen Days Until the Wedding

“I’m just saying, Cinderella continues to be the best live-action Disney adaptation. It’s faithful to the story, the costumes are great, and it’s just so cute!” I exclaim, trying to stifle a yawn in the process. I was still having nightmares and barely sleeping. Thankfully, I was managing to hide it well, and nobody suspected anything. If they did, I could just lie and say I was up late working on bachelorette party plans and lost track of time. Nick laughs. “What?”

“I love that this is what you’re passionate about.” He grins.

“Well, I’m absolutely right.” I tell him, and he nods.

“Oh, absolutely.” I had a feeling that he had no idea what I was talking about, which was usually the case. But he agreed with me anyway, which I appreciated. Despite all my nightmares and bad memories, spending almost every day with Nick was helping me feel happier, and far more comfortable. It also took my mind off of my nightmares from the previous night. Nick was lovely, and I actually felt upset whenever we had to go back to the house. The fact he was gorgeous helped too, of course. Before I can say anything else, I suddenly spot the town’s bakery and walk over to the window. 

“Look at all these cakes.” I smile. “Oh my god, those cupcakes still look delicious.” I state, staring through the window at them. “My Nana used to bring Katie and me here every Friday after school, and we’d each get a cupcake. I always chose the birthday cake ones, cause it felt like we had a birthday celebration every week.” I smile fondly. “It’s one of my favourite memories of her.”

“Do you want one?” Nick asks, causing me to look over at him. “Seriously, do you want one?” He repeats, taking out his wallet. “They do look amazing. And after all, today is Friday. Can’t waste traditions.” He smiles, and his smile almost makes my heart do backflips.

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Seriously.” Nick opens the door of the bakery. I hear the wind-chimes over the door sound as we both walk in, just like they did all those years ago. The smell of baking is everywhere, filling me with a sense of comfort.

“Oh god, I remember this smell. It’s so...familiar.” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes. In that moment, I feel like I’m a little kid spending time with my Nana again. But when I open my eyes, I’m back to my real life, and the nostalgia is gone.

“I’m coming, just give me a few minutes!” Someone calls from through the back of the bakery.

“Opal?” I ask. Opal was the owner of the bakery...at least when I still lived in Saint Chase. Like Jane, she was friendly and welcoming, and every customer was her friend. She always used to sneak Katie and I samples of her new loaves of bread and cakes before we went to school in the mornings. If we liked them, they stayed. She always called us her honorary business partners. Of course, now I know she probably said that to every kid who wandered in, but it made kid me feel great.

“That’s my name, don’t wear- oh!” She gasps, immediately retreating back through the door she came from. Nick and I give each other a confused look. Rose returns a few moments later, carrying a small cake.“Katie! You look so different from the last time I saw you. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding!” She grasps my hand and shakes it vigorously, then does the same to Nick’s hand. “Want to see a preview of the cake? This is in no way finished, but it’s just a small sample of the real thing.”

“Oh no, I-”

 “We’re not-” Nick and I begin, but Opal ignores us. 

"You two are going to just love it.”

“Opal! I’m not Katie!” I insist. She gasps, and her eyes go wide. “Katie is my sister. This is Nick. He’s the best man.”

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.” Her face goes red. Nick and I reassure her that it’s okay. “Anyway, what can I get you?” Nick and I order our cupcakes, and she rings them up for us. Nick opens his wallet to pay for them, but Opal shakes her head. “No, please, these are on me. Count it as an apology...Seriously. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

“Well, thank you!″ Nick smiles, taking the cakes and walking towards the door. 

“Y/N...” Opal beckons me in closer, and I lean in. “I just have to say, you two are adorable together. I’m still sorry for my mistake, but honestly, you two look like a great couple.”

“We’re not-”

“Everything okay?” Nick asks.

“Oh! Yeah. Opal just wanted to ask me when we’re picking up the wedding cake.” I lie, giving Opal a pointed look. She nods vigorously. “Come on, let’s go. Bye Opal.” I say quickly, walking towards the door. She waves goodbye to us as we leave the store. Once we’re outside, Nick passes over my cake, taking a bite of his. 

“Oh. My. God.” He moans happily. “That’s incredible.” 

“Right?” I agree, taking a bite of mine. “It’s just as good as I remember.” Nick starts laughing at me again, and my eyes widen. “What? Did I say something weird?”

“You have icing on your face.” He responds. Of course I do. I’m a walking cliché, honestly. “Actually, you know what? I don’t care. This cake is that good.” I take another bite. “And besides, so do you.”

~~~

Later That Day

“That one looks like a dog.”

“A dog? No way. It looks like a hamster.”

“How the fuck does it look like a hamster?” Nick frowns.

“How the fuck does it look like a dog?” I respond, raising my eyebrow. Nick laughs. The two of us had finished eating our cupcakes (and wiped our faces), and were back in the park, drinking coffee and trying to see if we could tell what shape the clouds were.

“Guess we gotta agree to disagree.” I smile. “Even though I’m totally right.”

“Of course you are.” He says sarcastically, and I gasp in mock annoyance. But I don’t detect any malice from his comment...well, I hoped he wasn’t actually annoyed with me or anything, but he didn’t seem to be. Like I said before, I felt comfortable with Nick. Even though we had met a week ago, it felt like the two of us could joke with each other to our hearts content, neither meaning anything bad by it. It was weird how close we were, despite not knowing each other for that long.  “Uh, Nick?” I ask, looking up again.

“Mhm?”

“Do those ones look like rain clouds, or is that just me?”

“I think you’re right, it’s-” The heavens open before he can even finish his sentence. “Oh god, okay, come on, I saw a bike shed or something over there, we can hide out there until it stops.” Nick tells me, quickly taking his jacket off and throwing it at me.

“What’s this for?!” I ask.

“What do you think it’s for?! It’s to hold over our heads!” Nick shouts. “Now come on, let’s go.” He holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up. “Ready to run?” He asks. I nod. The two of us begin running through the park, holding Nick’s jacket over our heads with one hand each. We laugh as we run, trying to avoid slipping on the damp leaves or falling over. We soon reach the shelter, and Nick and I jump under it. The shelter is small, so our bodies are pressed up close against each other. I’m aware of the scent of his cologne again. Nick’s body is warm against mine as he wraps the jacket around my shoulders. 

“You don’t have to give me your jacket.” I protest, but he insists.

“Don’t be silly. What would your sister say if I made her maid of honour catch a cold?” He asks.

“The same thing she’d say if the best man caught a cold.” I reply, trying to take the jacket off. Nick reaches out, gently placing his hands on my arms, stopping me. It feels like electricity runs up my arms as he touches them.

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Honestly.” The two of us stand there, Nick still holding onto my arms. But it feels good. It feels...right. Nick keeps looking at me. 

“Do I still have some icing on my lips?” I ask. Nick shakes his head. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles loud enough for me to hear. Whether I was supposed to hear it or not, I wasn’t sure. Nick leans closer to me, and my brain immediately goes:

“He’s going to kiss me. Oh my god, he’s going to kiss me. Do I even want him to kiss me?” And I realise that...I think I do want him to kiss me. Nick’s head moves closer to mine, and my head rises up to meet his. But just as our lips are about to touch, my phone rings, causing us to break apart. Dammit. I take my phone out, seeing Katie’s name flash on the screen. She always has the best timing. “Hey Katie. What’s up? ...Yeah it’s raining really badly. Yeah, a lift back would be great. We’re at the park. Okay, see you soon. Love you too. Bye.” Hanging up, I sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nick responds. However, despite him saying that, it still felt like the air around us had changed. It wasn’t like we could go back to where we left off either, because everything felt awkward now.

Shit.

~~~

That Night

“Be good for your Daddy, okay Y/N?” She bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead. I nod. “I know I can trust you to help him look after your sister, right?”

“Of course, Mommy!” She grins, and pulls me in for a tight squeeze.

“There’s my smart girl.  I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I nod again.

“Have fun, Mommy!” I call, as she walks out of the door. And then, she was gone. The image changes into something else. “Daddy? Where’s Mommy? Why are you crying?” He blinks rapidly and bends down to my eye level.

“Mommy’s had to go, sweetie.” He explains.

“But...but where? She was meant to take me to kindergarten!” He looks away from me.

“I’m sorry. Your mommy’s an angel...she’s not coming back.”

Gasping, I sit up in bed again, looking around the room. My heart is racing. “It’s just a bad dream...Just a bad dream...” I tell myself, trying desperately to calm myself down. Getting out of bed, I cross over to the window, trying to ignore my shaking hands, and peek out at the night sky. Rows and rows of trees disappear into the darkness. “It’s not real. She died almost twenty years ago. It’s just a bad dream.” Clenching my fists, I furiously wipe at my eyes. "Dammit!” I curse.

I hadn’t had nightmares about the death of our mother in at least fifteen years. I thought I was finally getting better. Of course, life had other ideas. “I knew I should never have fucking come back here.” I hiss. That’s why still had bad dreams, because I was back here. I should’ve said no and ran when I had the choice. No, no, that’s stupid. Of course I couldn’t have said no. I could never let Katie down. God knows life let us down enough times already. No, I need to stop blaming the town for my problems. It’s my fault. I thought I was ready and healed, but obviously, I’m not. God, I need a drink. 

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I leave my room and tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen, using my phone torch as a light source. Once I reach the kitchen and flash my light into the room, I almost jump out of my skin when I see a figure sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey, I- Y/N?” Nick blinks his eyes, clearly startled by the bright light of my phone.

“Jesus Christ Nick! I thought you were a fucking murderer!” I gasp. He frowns.

“A murderer...who sits at the kitchen table? Anyway, why are you up so late? It’s like 2am!” I switch the light on. 

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here scaring the life out of me at 2am?” He holds up some paper. 

“Best man’s speech. I had a stroke of genius and decided to write some of it.”

“In the middle of the night? In the darkness? And people say I’m weird.” Nick chuckles. I cross over to the cupboards and get out some mugs to make tea. “Want some tea?” I ask, and he nods.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What brings you here at this hour?”

“Oh I just love hanging out with men in kitchens at 2am, didn’t Katie tell you?” I tease, filling the kettle and putting it on to boil. Nick laughs. I can’t tell him the truth. Then he would think I was weird. “But seriously. Couldn’t sleep.” I mean, that wasn’t a total lie. Nick didn’t have to know the truth. “How’s the speech going?”

“Ehhh?” Nick responds. I turn back to him and raise an eyebrow. “Not well.”

“I can tell.” The kettle finishes boiling, and I pour the water into the mugs. “But I’m here now, so you have an extra person to help you.”

~~~

One Hour Later

“Y/N...Y/N?” I hear someone whispering. Is someone....nudging me? I look up. Why was my head on the table? I notice that Nick has scooted closer to me. Is he the one nudging me?

“Mmm, Nick...whashappenin?” I mumble. 

“You fell asleep.” He explains. I shoot up in my seat and rub my eyes. 

“What?!” I gasp. “Why didn’t you wake me up?! I was meant to be helping you with your speech!” 

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” Nick reassures me. “You looked really tired, so I thought I’d let you sleep. You sure you’re okay?” He asks. Before I can say anything in response, I yawn. “Guess that answers my question. I think you should go to bed.” I shake my head.

“Nope. I’m not....” I cut myself off with another yawn. Nick gives me a look. “...Okay, maybe I’m a little bit tired.” I admit.

“Mhm. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He helps me up. I protest, but he continues to do so. “Y/N, trust me. You need some sleep. You’ll thank me later.” I realise he’s probably right. So, I let him lead me upstairs and into my bedroom, his hand resting on the small of my back. “So uh....can you take care of yourself from here?” He asks. I chuckle softly and nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks Nick.” I smile. “Goodnight.”

“Night Y/N.” 

~~~

The Next Morning - Thirteen Days Until the Wedding

“You invited Great Aunt Hilda? Seriously? All she’s going to do is talk about her cats.” 

“That’s why she’s sitting with you. At least you’ll have something in common.” Katie jokes. I jokingly punch her in the arm. “Hey!” She laughs. The two of us were spending the day arranging seating charts and finalising the seating plan. So far, it was all going well, and we managed to make it fun. “Oh, god.” Katie wrinkles her nose. “I forgot both Uncle Chris and Aunt Pamela said yes, AND they’re bringing plus ones. That’s gonna be rough.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Didn’t they get divorced like three years ago?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Aunt Pam’s gonna be a fan of his plus one....” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh right, he dumped her for his secretary, the one with the big boobs, didn’t he? Are they still together?”

“Yuuuup. She’s the plus one.”

“Better sit those two as far away from each other as possible then...” I mumble, trying to arrange the tables on my side of the chart as best as I can. Studying the rest of the little figures representing people, I frown, seeing one I haven’t seen before. One I definitely did not expect to see. I pick it up, and my eyes go wide. “Uh, Katie?”

“Mhm?”

“...Why does our Dad have a seating place?”

[megalony]

Please

This is a Billy/ Four 6 Underground imagine that I hope you will all enjoy.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy

Ben Hardy masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Billy leaned his head back against the broken trunk of the tree, feeling each splinter and sharp edge of the jagged wood prickling against his skin. There was a weird sense of serenity and calmness flowing through his veins as he watched the scene unfold from a fair distance.

He always wondered what his funeral would be like, Billy had often found it unsettling to think that he could get to an old age, tell someone what he wanted his funeral to be like but never have the satisfaction of knowing if it had gone how he wanted or not. When he died, he was never going to know if people remembered him, if they played a song at his funeral or if they didn't do any hymns like he asked for. It annoyed him more than scared him because he would have no control over his legacy or his memory or how people talked or perceived him anymore.

But this was different.

Sitting here, under an old oak tree in a rather dim and broken cemetery, Billy had some relief. He hadn't been allowed in the church because clearly, someone would have realised it was a sham, but Three had gone inside for him and stood at the back. There were only five people present and two of them just left when the coffin was brought out into the cemetery, but it was what Billy had asked for. No hymns, no religious sayings, no one praying for him and no music or annoying speeches to unsettle everyone. It was plain and simple, just how he knew his real send-off was going to be.

When he really did die, the group he had now joined wouldn't give him a send-off or bury him because they couldn't and that was perfectly fine with Billy.

"Can we go now?" Three muttered as he brought a cigarette to his lips, leaning his shoulders against the same tree Billy was sitting against as he clearly found himself bored now. It was the end of the funeral anyway, they were starting to lower the coffin into the ground, not realising that the box held weights instead of Billy's battered and bruised body.

"Not yet." Billy shook his head when his eyes focused on someone who made him regret agreeing to this.

Billy didn't really have much of a choice. He had been battered and broken when One got to him and tied him up. The choice was to have a chance to do something good and help the world, or go back to stealing and being caught by the police. One had already banked on Billy agreeing to his offer and had set the wheels in motion for Billy's fake funeral and the world believing he was dead. There was very little choice for Billy to take but there wasn't anything in his life that made him want to stay.

Except for (Y/n).

One had promised Billy could talk to her one last time but he hadn't managed to do that and now it was his funeral, Billy had no chance of being in her life. He loved her so much, she was the reason he had tried to snatch the most expensive piece of jewellery in the world. He did that last job to try and get himself out of the thieving world. But his plan hadn't worked, Billy had tried to set himself up for a better life with (Y/n) but all he had done was cut himself out of her life.

Billy wasn't leaving yet, he wanted a few more minutes to gaze at (Y/n) and commit her features to memory before he had to leave and be told not to see her again. He didn't want to put her in any danger so he was going to control himself and not go back to find (Y/n), but he wanted to see her now whilst he still could.

His hands gripped at his knees that he pulled up to his stomach as he found himself feeling a wave of pain in his chest. He had the sudden urge to bolt over the grass and reach out to (Y/n). Billy wanted to run over to her and wrap her up in his arms and tell her he wasn't going anywhere, but he wasn't allowed. Billy wondered what the harm would be if only (Y/n) knew he was still alive, he hadn't done anything with the group yet, they had no mission and were not known by anyone. Billy was a nobody, if (Y/n) was the only one who knew he was really alive, she wasn't going to go around telling people.

The blond pushed away the tears welling in his eyes as he watched (Y/n) kneel down next to the grave. He couldn't cry right now because even though Three might ignore the action, One certainly wouldn't. One would tell Billy to man up because he wasn't special and he had agreed to this and he couldn't back out now.

Billy's eyes narrowed when he noticed (Y/n) put an envelope down next to a flower at the grave. It was a rather small envelope so he guessed it wasn't a letter, he knew (Y/n) wasn't that type because she was like him. She thought he was really dead so she wouldn't write him a letter because there was no point to it and it wouldn't make her feel any better.

"Get the envelope for me." Billy glanced his eyes up to One, a pleading look in his pupils but a rather authoritative look on his face. He wasn't pleading or begging, he was telling One that he wanted that envelope. It was from (Y/n) so Billy needed to have whatever it was.

One rolled his eyes but complied with the order all the same, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and made a slow walk over the grass to where the grave was. They had sat right out of the way on the edge of the cemetery to make sure no one would see or notice Billy, even though there were only three people left around the grave now.

By the time that One got there, (Y/n) was talking to the other two people a few feet from the grave. None of them noticed One reach out and slip the envelope from the grass before he turned on his heels and slowly made his descent back to the other two. His eyes drifted to look at the car on the road only a few feet from where the boys were stood next to the tree. When they were finished here they were getting in that car and making their way back to the base.

"Read it and then we'll go." One tossed the small square envelope onto Billy's lap before he turned his back so Billy could read it in some kind of privacy.

Looking down at the envelope, Billy found his hands shaking as he slowly opened it and reached inside to find what was there. He was certain that it wasn't a letter and he realised it wasn't when he felt a small piece of paper inside that wasn't barely big enough to be a letter.

"No... no, no." Billy found himself repeating that word over and over again like he was a broken record as his features started to turn bright red like he was boiling up on a stove. Tears swam in front of his emerald green orbs that were becoming glassy and irritable as he couldn't breathe. Billy felt his chest tightening and his stomach pulling inwards as he couldn't manage to take in a proper breath and it was making him feel sick.

"Love letter?" Three muttered without looking down at the blond, he simply flicked the stubbed out cigarette into the grass as he hoped they could get going now.

"(Y/n)!" Both men were surprised by Billy's sudden outburst and the shrill tone of his screech that they simply couldn't allow. If Billy started shouting she would hear him and this would all be for nothing. They had gotten this far, Billy couldn't ruin it now, he was one of them now. He was a ghost and he couldn't blow his cover the moment it was created just because of someone he had promised them he would leave behind.

"Fuck's sake shut up! Get him in the car!" One hissed, reaching out for Billy when he tried to stumble to his feet and clearly wanted to run over to the girl he couldn't let leave him now.

Three deadlocked his arms around Billy's frame and started to drag him backwards but it was getting harder the more Billy kicked his legs out and whacked his elbows back into Three's chest and stomach to try and break free.

A screech mixed with a cry left Billy's lips which soon became smothered when One curled his hand and forced it against Billy's mouth to shut him up. He hated to do this but they couldn't risk everything now, not for one person that Billy loved. It simply wasn't worth it. Three dragged the younger man back through the gate but Billy bit down on One's hand before he screamed (Y/n)'s name at the top of his lungs. He had to see her again, he couldn't go now.

Reaching down, One grabbed hold of Billy's legs when they reached the car, watching as Three stooped down and twisted himself around so he could stuff Billy into the backseat of the car. He pushed the younger boy in when he tried to scramble back out as One forcefully shoved his legs in before slamming the door shut and climbing into the front with Three who got in the driver's seat.

"Shit... I'm sorry." Three lowered his eyes to the ignition as he started up the car, sadness dwelling in his heart when he caught sight of the picture deadlocked in Billy's hand.

It was a scan photo.

"L-let me out! I didn't sign up for this shit let me out you bastards! I have to see her!" Billy kicked his feet out as he scrambled to sit himself up, forcing his body over to grab the door but it was locked.

(Y/n) was pregnant. She didn't get the chance to tell him before he did that heist that went wrong. If Billy had known she was pregnant he would never have agreed to join this team and cut himself off from the world, from (Y/n). Billy could only just handle the thought of never seeing her again but he couldn't just leave her on her own to bring up a baby- his baby. He had to be there for her and his kid, he couldn't be a part of this team if they were going to separate him from his new family.

"You promised! You fucking promised I'd see her again! Please."

Billy started to slam his fist against the window to try and smash it because he wasn't travelling all the way back to the base and leaving (Y/n) behind again. He left her when he joined this group but he couldn't leave her now, even if it was only for two seconds and he simply got to tell her that he knew and he was still here.

"Please..." Billy sobbed through the word as he looked at Three in the mirror. He knew that One wasn't going to be understanding or kind because he didn't care. He had told Billy he had to leave everyone and everything behind and he had already done that himself, he wasn't going to be sympathetic to Billy when he had agreed and gotten this far.

But Billy knew Three might just understand, he hadn't wanted to cut ties with his mother which had been hard for him. He must understand that Billy didn't want to leave things like this.

"Ahh, alright fine." Three tipped his head forward as he stopped the car and unlocked the doors, his head turning just in time to see Billy scramble out of the car with a grateful look on his features. He wasn't waiting to say thank you or to hear One yell at him for what he was going to class as a mistake.

He had to get to (Y/n).

Billy gritted his teeth when his feet scraped against the gravel and his knees caved in. His body toppled forward but his feet continued to move causing his hands to reach out and scrape against the dirt and gravel that cut into his palms and brushed flecks of mud against his features. But it didn't stop him, he scuffed his hands and pushed his weight back upwards until he was running along the dirt road again to reach the cutting in the cemetery. He hoped he wasn't too late.

The moment Billy scrambled into the cemetery, his eyes landed on (Y/n) who was still near his fake grave. He guessed by the way she seemed to be staring down into the ground that she might just have heard his screams and pleas of her name.

He glanced his eyes down to the picture in his hand but the moment he lifted his eyes up, (Y/n) was already heading towards him like a train that was going to barrel into him.

Billy's breath was stolen from his lungs the moment (Y/n) was in his arms because it was a feeling he thought he was never going to experience again. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, gripping her so tightly he could feel her breaths pushing against his own.

"Billy-"

"I'm so sorry." Billy repeated the words on a loop as he moved his hand to the back of her head, knotting his fingers into her hair as he breathed in her scent that felt like a drug was wading through his system. He couldn't stop the words from repeatedly passing through his lips because he would never be sorry enough for everything. He had made her think he fell to his death and that she had to bury him and bring up this baby on her own. And he almost went through with it.

Billy couldn't go through with being in this team if they wouldn't allow him to see or be with his family.

He needed her.

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

10. Part 2

Waking up hearing the sounds of the sea from outside my window, it was a different feeling to feel, it sounded so peaceful. I slept with my balcony doors open, I felt safe here and it was good to have that feeling. I didn’t have to lock my door, I didn’t have to close my balcony door because of noise from a party, I just feel free, is this what freedom feels like. I am in heaven; I have to be. Lifting myself up on the bed, resting my back against the headboard. I feel happy, we ate last night together at the table and I felt a little awkward of course, I am just the outsider but where they sat me was on the same side as Robyn and I couldn’t see her, and then I went bed early because I felt tired but I think it is because I feel so much at peace, I like this feeling. The sense of security here is giving me good vibes, I have not had this in so long, the last time I have felt such a way was at Robyn’ birthday party, I had so much fun too but I was not in a good place either so things went south after that. Looking towards the balcony doors smiling, the sun is shining through. Hearing giggles from outside, I wonder what time it is. I like that I know that is Robyn’ laugh, she is awake too. Reaching over to the side table, seeing the time. I actually slept in until ten, ok who is this man. Let me actually get out of bed, Robyn text me too. Ok I missed this; she might think I am rude just ignoring her too. Reading the message from Robyn ‘How come you commented on my post? Gn though’ she said good night to me, I missed it like an idiot but Robyn and I have not spoken like for real, it’s been many people around and I guess I feel very awkward about it all, it’s me. I feel like something will go wrong and that alone makes me close off.

I wore some cut off jeans and a tee, I mean I don’t want to be topless just yet. I am still on a bad side of Rorrey, it’s like he wants to kill me but then he knows he can’t either. This place is just full of beauty, you look outside every part and it’s just beauty after beauty. Placing a cigarette between my lips making my way to the outside, I want to see what Robyn is up too, I heard her outside laughing so I want to see, turning the corner but I stopped myself and moved back “were you expecting the nigga to be here?” the guy sat next to him asked, I don’t know him but he has a bajan accent so that must be family “no, I didn’t think Robyn was that stupid. I am angry she got pregnant by him. The nigga is a big time crackhead, he takes those hard drugs and now my nephew or niece will part of him? She is stupid and in love, I don’t fuck with him like that. Also, we are having a baby shower in Barbados for my sister, he ain’t invited, she ain’t got no choice with that shit” hearing him say, raising an eyebrow “fuck that nigga, he ain’t welcome in Barbados, then just keep Robyn there. He hurt your sister, not once but twice. You as a brother got to protect that, she will see sense Rorrey, I know it” ain’t that some shit, not something I wanted to overhear but I did. Taking in a deep breath and just moving from my spot, I need to hold my head up high and keep going, Robyn is trusting me, so I need to just do her proud and fuck them. Rorrey looked at me as I started to walk “you not left yet?” he asked but I didn’t say anything, I got my cigarette between my lips anyways and he is beneath me.

Stepping outside and seeing Robyn with her friends and Dennis, my face softened and honestly, the shit I heard meant nothing to me now seeing Robyn in a bikini. The feeling went straight down to my dick, the cigarette near fell from my lips, I barely could light it, but I caught it. I slowly walked more out from under the cover, the sun shone down on my head as I stepped out “shut up! Oh my god, Mel. Please stop speaking, I need to record this!” Robyn shouted; Mel laughed moving away “shall we take two for Fenty Skin?” Dennis said, lighting my cigarette finally, my eyes never leaving Robyn as she just sat on the sun lounger, she is working while on vacation, is this a vacation. Not in Robyn’ eyes clearly “now I need to top my lipgloss up, making me talk out of line. Dennis let’s start again” blowing the smoke out from my lips, I smiled at the very time Robyn did, she is making me love her even more. I mean look at her stomach out, wow. A whole baby is in there, it’s my baby too. She looks so beautiful pregnant, she is always beautiful but now, it is even more. The way the sun shines down on Robyn, she is a true angel “ok, so once you are ready. So, proceed and Melissa, just lay there and shut up!” Dennis shouted, Mel laughed again “ok, I am done” Mel said but she better stop because Robyn is getting annoyed with her.

I have been here like a creep and watched Robyn do the whole ass video with Dennis, I have not looked away at all. This is not good; I am not supposed to be falling in love with Robyn all over again “I don’t think anyone trust your fucking videos anymore Robyn! After the pregnancy announcement” I near died at Robyn staring at me, oh she caught me “I am sick of your mouth, move bitch!” Robyn got up, I don’t know if to move or just stand here like a lamp. That made me laugh, why am I laughing. What is even happening to me, I think I have malfunctioned slightly. Robyn is walking to me, she has a lacey robe on, oh wow. Robyn is just, wow. Turning around “aht, aht! Where are you going?” turning back around “inside?” well she caught me and oh my god, her stomach is just the cutest thing, I really have feelings and I don’t like it. Bringing my eyes up to hers “but you were watching me all that time huh, I saw you a while ago. I don’t stop working, this backdrop is the best, I am releasing my new moisturiser, but anyways. I saw you watching” oh she peeped me a while ago “yeah, I was going to eat something” Robyn looked behind me “the chef will be making lunch, wait it out. Sit out here with us, or somewhere else?” nodding my head “sure, you can take the lead” I prefer she did and I follow, Robyn turned around and oh hey, she is wearing some lacey shit today, tilting my head “don’t look!” She spat; she knew I was.

I was expecting Robyn to sit with the rest but she didn’t “sit, come, come, come” she shuffled back on the sun lounger, sitting across from her “you not put anything on your face?” shaking my head “you know me, I just come out here. I just woke up, you know. I do have something in my bag but it’s just whatever” she is judging me “you need to look after your skin nigga, what the hell. You in your thirties like me. You got to do it” Robyn said shaking her head, she is not impressed “don’t judge me, damn. But I just saw your message now when I woke up, I fell asleep straight away pretty much” Robyn squinted her eyes smiling, she is so pretty “well least you fell asleep, I wasn’t waiting up for your text. Don’t worry” she winked at me “you just blinked at me forcefully” I laughed saying “oh shut up! You know damn well I can’t wink, asshole. I tried” we both laughed “blinked forcefully, be quiet, annoying ass. You are just as bad as Melissa” watching Robyn laugh, she is vibrant and I just want to kiss her, no I don’t actually because that would make things awkward “how come you commented anyways?” staring at her lips “uh” I breathed out looking away “well I am just looking like a nigga that is bitter and angry, just reading shit saying I am crying about it which I am not but I mean I was but I am not now. I just wanted to shut them up, so I wrote it. Now I look obsessed so I can’t win” I finally looked at Robyn “I see, I don’t mind it that you have said something, but you got to realise that you will never win, neither will I. I look like I have made my child fatherless and I am selfish for it, so I can’t win either way. I look bad. So, the only thing you can do is ignore them because you are better then that, I just don’t comment anymore. Just one or two times to the people I want too but you shouldn’t let that bug you, even if it wasn’t yours because things like that can get you down” she is right “I don’t know what I would be like, I was already depressed when I found out, I love you. So, it was different” Robyn and I always look away from each other when we speak on love “sorry for making the conversation awkward” I added, Robyn smiled shaking her head “no you didn’t, stop it. Just don’t let it get to you mentally, it’s a lot of shit that will come about and I want you to come out of this better than ever” rubbing my hands together, I am just an idiot and I hate it.

Feeling Robyn pick at something on my white tee “huh” looking at her hand “it’s a ladybug, look at that. Attracting the bitches again” looking at Robyn’ hand “why ain’t you screaming like always” the ladybug flew off “because the bitch is cute, so. How is Christopher, you not taking anything are you? I can tell you’re not because this is you” shaking my head “I am ok, I feel good about things. I haven’t felt like this in a while, that is because of you” Robyn licked her lips looking at me, she looks concerned “but I want you to do this for you?” she questioned “I am but I needed someone real, someone that cares. Your whole vibe is helping me, I don’t really fuck with drugs, but it killed time and my mind, and I think I have probably made a mess of myself. But right now, I am good. I sleep so that is good” I laughed to myself “sleep is a good factor you need, and I am glad, you know I am here if you need to talk to me about anything. Can be your love life too” I laughed shaking my head “don’t play like that, I don’t have love or a life. Come on now shawty” Robyn and I just laughed at each other “you need to look after your skin too, I can lend you some of my Fenty skin” smirking at her “I need teaching too oh leader of the many” she hit my arm “shut up now but I can teach you, I am going have you look like a new man. Sleep and good skin, chile. That is what we need, but first. You need to protect your skin from the sun, come with me” Robyn got up from the sun lounger and her bump near knocked me out “jeez!” I moved back “am I that big!” Robyn spat “no, just we were sat close” getting up also.

Drying my face off with the towel, Robyn was dead ass about this, and I wasn’t and now I am stuck doing this with her, she is being legit too, just here watching me “we going to look like some fly ass parents with some fly ass skin nigga, we need your skin on fleek too. I can’t have you letting me down, and the hell!? Pat your face down, why are you fighting with the towel, this reminds me of when you used just act like you washed your face and you didn’t. You are so stank for that, we was in New York and we went out and then you admitted you didn’t, now that nasty shit is catching up on you” I grinned like a goof “but you kissed my cheek still” I smirked “I regretted it after, so next time be nice to your face. So next, now we got your face looking all good! We going to tone this” Robyn gripped my chin and shook my head as she laughed “we going to tone it, and I will watch you. All this free Fenty Skin, I should charge you” she passed me the bottle “and then hydrate with SPF and protect that face” looking down at the bottle “you saying that face, acting like I don’t have a cute face?” Robyn shook her head “be quiet and get on with it now, I am watching you. I want to see you doing this from your face to your neck, here” Robyn touched my neck “all here, massage it in too” she keeps touching me and being so close we going to kiss next “Robyn! You’re needed downstairs!” Rorrey shouted from the door that is open, scared us both as we just looked “the fuck, ok nigga now leave me alone” he looks way too angry.

Wiping my hands on the towel “so, did I do good?” I asked, I mean I tried “come here” Robyn waved me over “is it not good enough for you? Judgemental ass, sat there with your lacey robe and shit” Robyn rolled her eyes getting up “lift your head up, come up” I can’t stop smiling, Robyn makes me laugh “we need to massage it into your neck like this” I like this, I like that Robyn is massaging my neck, can she continue this “mhmm” she then slapped my neck which ruined it “next time do it better, but your skin looks better. You can keep my shit too. I have some more, ok?” nodding my head “but those are not full products?” Robyn side eyed me as she walked off “should be glad you get that, ugly” why is she doing this to me, I am actually crazy for her and this is making it worse “oh god” laughing to myself, this is bad. Walking into the bathroom with the towel in hand. Looking in the mirror, nodding my head seeing the hype on skin care. I mean I do have my skin care thing when I can be bothered to care for this, but here I am looking good as hell. Touching the side of my face, I like this, and I fuck with it.

I am hungry as fuck, I thought I would go down after having a talk with Hoody. He is missing me I think anyways “hello Robyn boyfriend!” Majesty shouted so loud “Noella you better get your child before I do, who taught her this” Robyn said, “auntie not playing now, stop this!” Majesty jumped down off the chair and ran towards “where have you been? We are supposed to have singing lessons” why do these girls like me picking them up “I could ask the same thing about you” picking her up “you went missing on me, but we can eat now” putting her down as I got to the table “sit next to me! Come on” Majesty grabbed my hand “I am so sorry Chris; she is just doing the most. I think she really likes you” pulling the chair out, I think I can thank Majesty because I am sat across from Robyn now “what you all think to Chris and his skin? I have been teaching him how to moisturise his face” all eyes are on me including her lovely brother “yeah” shuffling my chair in “it looks nice, brings out your cheekbones, like I would literally die for those cheekbones” Ja said which made me laugh “you can also get those from drugs, try that Jahleel” the table became awfully quiet “you can also get it from the lack of food you get when your sister is not paying for your shit too, just something I heard” well isn’t this just nice, hearing my phone go off. This is a facetime so I know who this is, it’s Royalty and I can’t ignore it. Looking at my phone, it is her. Getting up from the chair, I got to answer it, or she will bombard me with messages and send out a search party. Walking outside, answering the facetime “one minute” I said while walking away further from them “I got a new booboo dad!” Royalty shouted, holding the phone up “oh for real, how did you do that now? Don’t tell you been play fighting with Sinatra again” sitting down “ballerina classes, I fell on my leg. Look” she showed me her leg that has a pack of ice on it “mom says I have to rest so now I am, but I am ok. I just wanted to see how you are? Are you having fun?” nodding my head “yeah I am ok, even happier seeing your beautiful face, you made me smile” Royalty scoffed “don’t have to lie to me but I just wanted you to see that, it really hurts” my clumsy daughter “you not broke it?” she might of “no, we got it checked out. I can’t wait to see you, are you really gone now?” frowning “uh yes why?” she knows I have “just that uncle invited mom to a party at your house, mom doesn’t know I heard but she said no but then why can’t I go? And then mom complained that your house is not safe for me” Royalty shrugged “I don’t know” a party, when the hell was there a party “when was this?” I asked “uhm it was last night” that is some bullshit.

Hood and I have been going back and forth over text when I told him to leave my home, he’s just causing shit. My daughter is nosey, and I like she told me but why the fuck would you invite Nia, that is dumb, he is moving dumb too. I am also highly annoyed that Rorrey said that, so I am just annoyed when I been had a good time “so what are you hoping it will be?” Tina asked, looking up from my phone and at Robyn before it gets all awkward I am just going to go “I will be upstairs” I got up from the chair “but you literally haven’t ate?” Noella said “it’s fine” my phone started ringing in my hand, I will literally fuck Hood up. Answering the call as I walked off “I didn’t think it would be an issue, a party? That always happens” he said “I am not there, I said that I am not there so why do it. It’s wild that you do it when I told you to go home” what don’t niggas understand “you are acting real different Chris, whatever the fuck you are doing. I don’t fuck with new niggas” why can’t he just let me be “to clear my mind is me being brand new, whatever. I said what I said now just leave my home, then when I come back then things will go back to normal” jogging up the stairs, I don’t want to say anything else but that.

I have remained in the room, I can hear them setting up or whatever, but I just stayed out of the way watching Alien shows on YouTube, didn’t realise its been about two hours that has gone by. I just find inappropriate of him, it makes things awkward and I don’t like that at all, then this morning, all that shit about the baby shower, he holding onto what I did after all these years “can I come in?” a knock at the door “uh yeah” Robyn knocking on doors now “you never know, so I knocked anyways. Hiding up here now? Also, we can’t go down anyways until they have finished setting up or whatever for the reveal but I bought you a shirt to wear, I am wearing a warm pink dress, and you are wearing this white shirt” I didn’t expect to be dressed too, she placed it on the bed “thank you” I didn’t expect it “also Rorrey has one more chance to say anything, I appreciate that you are being quiet but I do want you to eat also, I said I would support you in this and I will do what I can for you. I don’t want you to feel that way, you never said what sex you hope the baby to be?” Robyn sat down on the chair in the corner, shuffling up on the bed “I don’t mind it, if it makes you happy then I am also happy. I don’t think people understand how much this feels like my first child but it’s like awkward, like I shouldn’t have an opinion with having two already. What did I say to you, they called me obsessed with you for saying something nice” I had time on my hands of course I looked “maybe you need to step back from social media while you try to better yourself Chris, people like my brother are one person out of the many in the room that like you. You are fuelling that on him, don’t let him ruin this nice time for us, but he has that last chance with you ok?” nodding my head “we have to wait here now, and I also need to get my dress on but we have time to kill, so we can just talk” Robyn really wants to hear me talk shit.

[friendlylocalwhumper]

gabe is @crash-bump-bring-the-whump‘s oc, and he’s been borrowed with permission!

content warning: drugged whumpee, vague near-noncon (interrupted).

Mere minutes after he sips at his fruit-punch flavored drink, pink and pretty in its wide-brimmed glass lifted from the bar by his fingers wrapped around the slender stem, Christian can feel the effect it’s having on him. It’s only his second drink of the night and he’s starting to list to one side, eyes struggling to focus, will and inhibitions slipping away. He’s been drugged.

Blake is across the nightclub dancing with someone, distracted and lost in the crowd. Christian can’t get to him, and can’t call him, not with the booming music nearly shaking through the walls and floor and barstools.

The nearest person is a woman, her high blonde ponytail swaying as she nods to the music, heel tapping. Christian steps closer and clumsily bats at her arm in an attempt to tap her shoulder.

“Heyyy,” He slurs, and cringes when she glares openly at him. Her friend steps into view and grimaces at him too.

“Another groping drunk?” She comments drily. “Get lost.”

“‘m not, I… I’m not drunk.”

“Mmmhmm. Touch her again and that glass is going down your throat.”

Frowning, Chris looks to the bar beside them to see a drained whiskey glass, right next to three emptied glasses, the kinds that hold the shots of stronger, grosser liquor that makes people lose their coordination and senses quickly. They’re not his, but he doesn’t have time to explain that.

“I - please,” He whines, sounding Marlow-like in his plaintive, consciously powerless tone. “Think ‘ve been… somethin’, something, in my drink…”

The women look at each other, some indecipherable emotion being shared between them. Chris sways on his feet.

“Somebody put something in your drink, honey?” The blonde asks, looking concerned and stepping closer to hold his arm gently. Christian nods sadly.

“How many drinks did you have? Did you leave your drink alone? How do you feel?” The other lady comes close too, looks him over.

With a miserable, stressed sound, he tries to answer. “Two. Left, for a miiiinute, f’got to watch’t… nnnh, not good… please, ‘m scared…”

They’ve both taken his arms, now, and he’s being led to the back door of the club. They go slow so he can keep his feet under him, and move so anyone walking past comes close to them, not the guy they’re helping to walk - to escape.

He feels a bit better when they get outside, the cool night air washing over his suddenly hard-to-maneuver body. The girls set him down to sit on the step up to the door and sit on either side of him; the redhead with the cute pixie cut rubs his back supportively.

“Is that better? Good to get fresh air.”

“Yeah, def. Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone whisk you away.”

With a drowsy nod, he leans against the blonde, floppy and loose under the effects of the drug. His shoulder-length hair, brown and soft, tickles her neck, but she lets him lay his head on her shoulder.

“What’s your name, handsome?”

The pet name makes him smile hazily. “Mmmh, Marlow,” He hums, feeling nauseous at his own answer but too dazed to puzzle out why.

The door behind them creaks, then bursts open, the metal corner hitting the redhead in the back. She jumps up and cries out, pulling away from the one she was comforting.

“What the hell!” She cries, and her friend pulls Marlow closer, protective at his frightened whimper as she watches the men who take two steps to be fully outside, then crowd around. Three men, two looking like bouncers and one in a suit.

“You ladies should go back inside,” One of the T-shirt clad musclemen says in what is clearly not a suggestion, but an order.

“Fuck off, we’re not -“

When her friend yelps in pain, her wrist grabbed by the muscleman and twisted, the blonde bursts to her feet and rushes forward, only to be grabbed around the waist by the other bodyguard.

Marlow is hardly able to sit up on his own, going wobbly as soon as he’s got no one to lean on anymore. He can only give a soft keen when he’s grabbed by the shoulders and hauled up to his feet by the man in the suit. He’s forced to walk backwards a few steps until his back up against the alley wall, the bricks cold and rough even through his shirt.

“Your owner’s been looking for you, Marlow.” The man smiles at the one who shudders under his grip. Those brown eyes are wide and doe-like, nearly glassy from the drink that stole any fight he might have had before.

“Let him go!” One of the girls yells, and the other adds, “Fuckers! Let us go!”

“Escort the ladies to their cars. They’re going home. I want to spend some time with little Marlow, it’s been too long.”

Marlow tips his head away from a light touch to his cheek, whimpering when his hair is grabbed and his shoulder released so he slides down to his knees, too weak to stand. The ladies are shoved out of the alley, threatened and gripped too tightly, twisting to see the man step closer to Marlow and forcing him to tip his head up, to look up at his attacker from where he kneels.

Marlow hears a belt buckle, and a zipper, but his eyes are already closed. He’s scared. He wants Blake, not this man, and not his owner.

There’s a hissing sound, and a slap, and yelling. Screaming. Marlow flinches back against the alley wall, fumbling to pull his knees up to his chest when the man before him seems to move away, the grip on his tousled hair suddenly gone.

He wants to go home. To keep his eyes closed, and be scooped up, and brought home, no explanation or coaching out of the Marlow-headspace needed. He just needs to get this drug out of his system and sleep and wake up a brave, angry person instead of a meek, trembling Marlow.

“-to get it outta my pocket,” Someone says, a conversation nearing and becoming audible. “Assholes will be choking on their snot for hours.”

“Mace will do that to you.”

A deep man’s voice answers a woman’s. Marlow curls in on himself tighter, arms wrapped around his knees, head tucked down; it’s as tight and tense as he can get with the drug trying so hard to relax his muscles and dull his reflexes, sap his strength.

“What’s his name?” The man asks, and the woman says, “Marlow.”

“Marlow, you in there? Those guys are gone.”

Marlow likes that, the you in there? It makes it sound like he’s safe in his little ball, curled up as he is. He unfolds enough to tip his head up, to look up at the person above him. He forgets to answer, reading the broad, strong-looking man as someone to cozy up to and appease, if he’s not a threat. But Marlow’s just too sad and scared to do that right now.

“You’re safe, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” There’s a pause, heels tapping against the pavement. “These ladies won’t either. Are they your friends, buddy? Do you have someone you want me to call?”

Marlow’s mouth feels funny, like he put on lip-plumping lipgloss and got given laughing gas by a dentist, his body gone all floaty. He can’t remember if there was anyone with him - would he even go out without his owner? It seems like a silly question. No, there’s no one here who can take Marlow home, and he doesn’t even - he doesn’t even know Sir’s number, how to call him.

“Nnno.” He pouts, pushing himself to his knees; he’s just more comfortable kneeling. “I don’t…” He was alone at the bar. That’s why someone slipped something into his drink. No one was watching, no one was close to keep him from getting taken away. “Was alone.”

Slow brown eyes follow the man’s movements as he reaches into his pocket for something; he pulls out a phone, tapping a few times on it then turning the device for Marlow to see.

“My name’s Gabe. This is Throl, we live together.” Marlow smiles at the explanation and the picture of a tall, lanky person with dark hair and circles under his eyes holding the big man happily in his thin arms. Marlow loves handsome couples. Throl looks charming. “Do you want to come crash at ours? No one will hurt you there, and you can come down off whatever’s in your system. You can leave anytime.”

Oh! Well, as long as he’s not just going home alone with Gabe. As long as he has a choice. Choices are uncomfortable, but good for him, Marlow knows. The aim is to rest and recover, not be a pretty, pleasing guest.

“Wouldn’t, I, wouldn’t… owe you?”

Gabe’s temple twitches from his jaw clenching. Marlow stares at it, sluggishly registering okay, he doesn’t want that, he really doesn’t.

“No. Come on, let me help you up, man. If you need help staying steady, can I put my hand on your back?”

Marlow feels a bit less meek at being called man. He likes it. Gabe offers a hand up, and Marlow gets his hand on the target within thirty seconds, missing the first two times. “Mmkay.” He’s gently pulled up to his feet, a big hand exercising incredible caution not to crush his slender one, and then everything spins madly before Marlow’s eyes. “O-o-oh,” He moans, then goes boneless.

His knees don’t hit the pavement. Marlow swallows and blinks rapidly, fingers roaming to feel out where he’s ended up. A chest. Arms. He’s been caught, lifted. Marlow lets himself flop entirely, head leaning against a pec.

“Thaaankyou,” He slurs, fingers twisting loosely into a short sleeve. He mumbles something else, increasingly incoherent as he lets the contact lull him into instinctive relaxation. If he’s held and drugged silly, he can’t possibly upset anyone, fail to appease them - it’s out of his hands. It’s terrifying and wonderful. He doesn’t care where he’s taken, or who’s there, or what they want with him; Gabe is big, and seems gentle, and it’s much safer to be in his arms than to kneel dizzily in an alley all alone.

[twokinkybeans]

Jar Of Dirt 13: Peachy [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Spanking, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Name-Calling, Thigh Riding, Dry Humping, Implied Oral Sex Other Warnings: Beck's at it once more (creep), Tony and Peter fight.

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 Masterpost (More to come!) 

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Chapter 13: Peachy Peter grins, biting on his lower lip when he turns the little note around to show Tony what he picked from the jar this time. He knows how badly Tony has been looking forward to this. And honestly, so has he. They’ve been slowly initiating it already, joking, teasing. Sometimes Peter could feel the man struggle against his desires to just go for it right then and there.

Spanking

“Fuck. Yes.” Tony breathes out, staring at the word in his own handwriting. He’s so ready for this. He’d seen little glimpses of Peter’s inner brat shine through and he couldn’t wait to see what the boy would come up with. God. He couldn’t wait to smack that perfect little butt, making Peter whimper and moan. He groans as he feels his groin tingle at the mere thought. He’ll start slow. Have Peter get used to the sting, the warmth. The intimacy. Peter puts the jar aside carefully and licks his lips when he slowly gets on his hands and knees, crawling towards Tony on the couch. Tony swallows. “Hi, daddy,” Peter smirks and hovers over his boyfriend, lips less than an inch away. Fuck. Is that… Peach? Tony cocks an eyebrow, staring into Peter’s beautiful eyes. “You’re wearing the lipgloss again.” “Guess what else I’m wearing?” Peter’s voice is playful and already filled with lust. “Don’t you want to find out?” “Why do I have a feeling you’re not going to show me?” “Hmmm, you know me too well, Mr. Stark.”

Peter leans in, his soft, sticky lips catching onto Tony’s, making the older man tremble with desire. Peter always draws out his filthy side far too easily. His cock already hard and straining against his pants. “I do want to see it, Pete.” “Nu-uh, you’re going to have to make me.” Peter draws back slightly and Tony feels the stain of the gloss still on his lips. The boy’s eyes showing him the naughtiest sparkle Tony has ever seen. “I’m asking you one last time, baby. I’m not holding back if you won’t listen.” Peter swallows, his eyes widening the slightest bit. Tony grins. Seems the little brat isn’t so cocky after all. Peter pushes through, though. “Come and get it.”

That’s all Tony needs. He tangles his fingers in Peter’s soft curls, yanking the boy forward. Peter yelps surprised, falling right over Tony’s lap. His chest resting on the armrest of the couch. He tries to get up, but Tony holds him down tightly. “You’re a bad, bad boy, Peter.” Tony growls, using his free hand to tug Peter’s sweatpants down, revealing the boy’s beautiful ass. He gulps when he sees the pastel pink panties. Peter had only shown them off once before, he never actually wore them. “Teasing daddy as always.” His hand gently caresses the soft skin. Peter is already a panting mess, Tony can feel the boy’s hard-on digging into his upper leg. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest little slut- so easy. Already surrendering to me.” “Well,” Peter huffs out a breath, wriggling in Tony’s hold. “-you’re just big talk, have yet to see you follow through with those empty threats, and- AH!” The hard smack startles both of them, Tony’s fingers tingling where the impact hit him most. The boy melts in his arms, actually falling into his submission this time. “You were sayin’?” “N-Nothing, daddy. ‘M sorry!” “Color?” “Green, please, hit me again, daddy,” Peter breathes quickly. Tony inhales sharply, staring at the rosy spot on Peter’s butt and aims for the same spot once more. The way it has Peter whimper is addictive. Tony wants to hear that sound over and over again. “You were naughty, honeybunch,” Tony grunts, smacking him again. “Talking back to daddy on purpose.” Another. “Twice.” With that, he moves to the other buttcheek, giving two fast slaps in a row. He pauses, gently kneading the soft, already warm skin.

“How’s it feel?” “G-Good. Shit. I knew I’d like it but I didn’t think I’d like it this much. It’s all tingly.” Peter rambles, shifting and turning his head to the other side, trying to look up Tony. Tony smiles, loosening his grip on the curls and their eyes meet. “You look so pretty splayed out on my lap like this,” he whispers, making Peter blush and cast his eyes down again. He wiggles his butt, though, and Tony can’t help the soft chuckle from escaping his lips. “You want more, don’t you?” “Please?” Peter’s voice is so needy and sweet that it has Tony’s heart flutter. Gosh. He is madly in love with this kid and they’re a literal match made in heaven. Or hell. Whatever floats your boat.

He shifts a little, steadying himself where he sits and lets go of the boy’s hair. His hand slipping down Peter’s back. “We’re going to make a little game out of this, sweetness. I’m gonna beat your pretty ass, and by the time I stop, I want you to tell me how many you got. Yeah?” Peter nods frantically, spreading his legs slightly, putting that beautiful little butt on display. “D-Don’t hold back, Mr. Stark. Please. I want this so bad.” Tony complies with Peter’s pleas, lowering his hand harshly again, and again, and again, relishing in the loud smacking sounds ringing in his ears. Peter turns into a moaning mess as he takes it all. His sweet pleas grow softer and more incomprehensible. Tony notices how the boy’s hips start to roll down on Tony’s thighs and it makes him grin. He could tell Peter not to do this, but damn, the sight is so mesmerizing and he loves that he drives Peter crazy like this. “Hmm, that’s my good boy,” Tony coos, “-so sweet and pliant just how I recognize you. You’re getting yourself off, showing me how good you feel, uh?” “Yes, feels so good. Oh…” Peter’s voice trails off and he digs his fingers into the couch, hips speeding up. “Can I… Can I come, daddy? Please?” “Well, that depends, did you count?” “I-I… Fuck. Forty-three? ” Peter chokes out, “-I tried, I really tried! It just feels so good, I can’t think straight.” Tony moans out loud at the way Peter’s losing himself. He actually hit the boy a bit less, but, Peter’s been so sweet… “Alright, you did so well baby, wanna see you fall apart.” Tony breathes out, staring at the way the boy’s neck is flushed too. The bucking of his hips is getting more and more desperate, needy sounds falling off his lips. “Come for me, Peter. Now.” “Th-thank you, I… I- Fuck!” Peter’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he cries out in pleasure. The boy is shaking in Tony’s arms. His head is thrown back as he rides through his orgasm.

Tony can’t help but stare at his ass. It’s flushed pink, the slight outline of Tony’s hand visible from where he hit him. He traces his fingers across the hot burning skin and Peter gasps. “T-That tickles. It’s so sensitive, fuck, is it warm? It feels warm?” “Hmm, definitely is. It’s brighter than those adorable panties of yours baby.” “Damn,” Peter’s voice is so quiet and breathy. “-knew I picked the right ones this morning.” Tony laughs at that, his fingers caressing Peter’s cheek. Peter turns his head, sucking one of Tony’s fingers into his mouth. “Pwease,” he mumbles around it, “-can I?”

Before Peter knows what’s happening, Tony shoves him off his lap and guides him to the floor. Peter’s knees hit the tiles with a soft thud and he looks up with wide eyes when Tony stands up from the couch, towering over him. His hands reaching for his belt and unbuckling it right in front of Peter’s face. The boy licks his lips, looking up at Tony’s wide grin. "Now, put that bratty mouth of yours to good use, kid. Suck me off real good."

-

Peter drops himself in his seat next to Ned, flinging his backpack on the floor next to him and taking out his laptop. Classes should be back to normal again. Beck’s final lecture was last Friday, so Peter fortunately doesn’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s gone. Out of Peter’s life. For good. At least that’s what Peter hopes. He starts up his laptop and sucks at his teeth, tapping his foot compulsively. He quickly types his password and spots that his battery is running low. He bends over towards his backpack to take out his charger, when all of his muscles tense. Something’s wrong. Goosebumps spread over his body like rapid-fire and he freezes, eyes wide, when he spots a pair of expensive white shoes in front of him. No. Peter slowly looks up, only to be met with Quentin Beck’s wide grin looking down at him. Peter realizes his own face is at the same height as Beck’s dick and he quickly pushes himself up to sit straight, not caring about his charger anymore and smacking his laptop shut.

“Peter,” Quentin says breathlessly. “Where’s Professor Dane?” Peter forces out the words, not wanting to make small talk. Quentin nods his head triumphantly. “Unfortunately,” he pauses, running his fingers through his hair. “-There were some unforeseen post-surgery complications. It’s uncertain when Professor Dane will return to teach. If he will return at all.” Peter’s stomach turns into a pit. This was all a little too convenient for Beck, wasn’t it? “What complications?” To Peter’s dismay, Beck pushes the laptop aside and sits down on Peter’s table, invading Peter’s personal space. “One of the machines he was hooked up to was... Faulty.” Peter shivers at the words. “That’s all the faculty allows me to say. Though, MIT would’ve had to look for a substitute for ages, had I not been so generous to offer to stick around until professor Dane is recovered.” Quentin grins. Peter turns his head to look at Ned, who gives him a worried glance. “Thank you, Mr. Beck!” A few of the girls in the class shout from the other side of the room. “You’re always so kind! What would we do without you!” Peter refuses to look back up at Beck’s smirking face. The man stands up from Peter’s desk, but not before giving the boy a gentle pat on his hair. Peter pulls his head back with a slight jolt, away from Beck’s hand. “Well, certainly not the practicals that are planned in three weeks. So, I figured you wouldn’t be too happy to have me here.” He saunters to the front of the classroom. He turns swiftly on one foot, facing the class again. Facing Peter. “But really. I like you too much.” Beck’s expression darkens. He’s not talking to the class. Peter knows. And it has him shaking. “I am not going anywhere.”

-

Tony nods along to the music on the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically. He hasn’t heard much from Peter in the past week, so he figured picking him up from MIT would be a nice surprise. The kid has a physics lecture at the moment. Tony stops the car just a little bit from the entrance of the building with the lecture hall. He doesn’t really want to walk into the uni. He’s here for Peter, not for people who want his autograph. Besides, he has his car conveniently parked in a spot Peter would walk past on his way to his dorm to grab his bag for the weekend.

The billionaire is absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, answering some emails, when F.R.I.D.A.Y. speaks. “Peter just walked out the building.” A smile creeps on Tony’s face and he looks up to see Peter and Ned chatting casually. Peter smiles and waves at Ned, who walks the opposite direction. Peter grabs his phone from his pocket and Tony decides to get out the car before his staring would be considered weird. However, before Tony gets the chance to even open the car door, he hears his voice. “Peter!” The world crumbles around Tony when Beck - fucking Beck - rushes out the door to catch up with Peter, a small stack of paper in his hands. The boy turns around to face him, taking a step back. Everything about Peter’s body language says he’s not comfortable with Beck being there, but he doesn’t walk away. Why doesn’t he walk away? Peter looks down at the papers in Beck’s hand and carefully reaches out. He takes the papers from Beck, but Tony can’t help but see how Beck’s fingers brush past Peter’s. How Peter pulls back quickly, taking another step away from the other man. However, Beck follows with another step, aiming to stay in Peter’s space.

Tony’s heart beats fast and loud in his chest. Why is he so scared? What’s stopping him from interfering? He feels like he can’t breathe. It’s really Beck, there’s no denying. Those bright blue eyes, the hair, the slight stubble… That same fucking grin. And he’s talking to Peter. He’s talking to Tony’s boyfriend. Again. Just like at the party. Why is Beck at MIT? Why did he have a stack of papers to give to Peter? What’s going on? When Beck places a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezes, Tony boils over. Red spots cover his sight and he throws open the car door, stepping out and taking big strides towards the two other men. “Peter!” He shouts, similar to how Beck did before. Cheerful, yet forced. Peter turns around to meet Tony’s intense gaze and the boy immediately and visibly relaxes. The billionaire ignores all the people who realize that none other than Tony Stark is on MIT grounds.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s arms drop to his sides and he sighs gratefully. However, when he wants to step towards his boyfriend, Beck suddenly throws his arm around Peter’s neck, pulling him to his side. The boy visibly flinches but again, doesn’t move. “Tony! Good to see you again! How are you?” Once again, Peter’s visibly uncomfortable. With his senses, it’s only natural the boy is feeling Quentin’s breath, his movement, everything. Especially now that they’re flush together. The thought alone makes Tony nearly lose it on the spot. “Peachy,” is all Tony says. Beck doesn’t even acknowledge Tony’s answer and keeps on talking. “Peter is by far my favorite student. Such a bright kid .” Goosebumps cover Tony’s body and he cocks his head. “Your favorite student?” The puzzle pieces start falling together. Why Peter’s been acting off. The whole substitute teacher blabbering when Ned almost slipped. Beck has been teaching Peter. And Peter didn’t think that would be worth mentioning to Tony. Apparently. “It’s- It’s a long story-” Peter stammers, shimmying away from Beck’s touch and turning to stand at Tony’s side. Tony immediately wraps his arm around Peter’s waist, pulling the boy against him possessively. Peter flinches when Tony squeezes his side a little too hard.

“Since when do you teach at MIT?” Tony bits his cheek, trying to stay somewhat civil. He’s an adult. He wants to deal with this in an adult way. He doesn’t want to give Beck the pleasure of knowing his entire being crawls under Tony’s skin. Nevermind his heart still thumping in his chest. Knowing Peter can hear it, aches him. “A few weeks now. I’m here until professor Dane recovers from his surgery, but in all honesty, I’m not sure if that’s gonna happen.” Beck obviously feigns his worry. The sarcasm seeps off his words. A glimmer shows in his eyes as he looks straight at Peter. “Didn’t he tell you, Tony?” Tony clenches his jaw, his lip quivers and he can’t believe he’s holding back tears right now. Can’t believe he’s fighting the strain in his throat. “No,” he forces out. Beck finally looks away from Peter, looking straight into Tony’s eyes with a grin. Tony can’t win this. He’s freaking Iron Man, yet this man has him quiver with fear. He turns his head to look down at Peter. The boy stares at his feet, the papers wrinkled in his clenched fist. Tony tugs at him and he turns them away from Beck to walk to the car. “We’re leaving.”

-

All Peter could feel was shame and guilt. He clearly made a mistake. Tony didn’t look at him when they started walking towards the car and they could both feel Beck staring at their backs. Tony’s body is vibrating with tension, his grip on Peter’s waist convulsive. He only lets go of Peter once they get to the car. Tony opens the door to the passenger side rather aggressively and if Peter didn’t have super strength, he’s pretty sure the man would have shoved him in. Tony’s scared, Peter understands. But this… This is not his Tony. Peter buckles up quietly, not wanting to set the man off even further. Tony shuts the door with a loud bang. Once he’s seated, he presses down the gas full throttle.

Peter glances at the dashboard, jaws clenched as he watches the hand of the speedometer go up further and further. Tony’s hands are clenched around the wheel, his eyes strained on the road in front of him, but Peter isn’t sure Tony’s actually paying attention. Peter knows he’ll easily survive a crash like this. It’ll hurt, yes, but he’ll heal. Tony, however… “Mr. Stark-” “Don’t.” It’s all he gets. Peter looks forward again, but he can’t keep quiet. “If you don’t slow down, I’m gonna jump,” he threatens. Once again, Tony doesn’t respond. “Mr. Stark!” Nothing. He barely evades a pedestrian and that’s it. “HIT THE BREAK, TONY.”

He does. The car drifts and their bodies push against their seatbelts. When they finally come to a halt, they’re both panting. Peter slowly turns his head to face Tony. The man is staring at his hands, still stuck on the wheel. As much as Peter wants to comfort him, something in him shifts. “Was that necessary?” He says, surprised at his own words. He doesn’t take them back, though. He just stares at Tony, whose eye twitches. “Necessary?” Tony repeats with a quiet scoff. “You know what’s necessary?” He whips his head to stare Peter down. “Telling me my abusive ex is your physics prof! That’s what’s necessary, Pete!” “I didn’t want you to freak out, it was only supposed to be for a week- I-” “No, kid, you don’t get to decide what’s good for me, you hear me?!” Peter stares at Tony wide-eyed. He’s never heard Tony yell like this before. When Tony sees Peter’s face crack he gasps for air, shifting to look forward again. “I shouldn’t yell- I shouldn’t- fuck, Peter, that was Beck.” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so they stay on the wheel. “Holding you.” “I didn’t want-” “What’s he been doing to you?” The question was stern. Tony closes his eyes, trying to make sense of everything. “Nothing, Tony. I won’t let him-” “So, he tries?” Peter presses his lips on top of each other. Tony slowly turns his head again at the lack of reply. “He tries,” he confirms for himself. Peter looks down, not knowing what to say. There’s too much to say.

After a long silence, Tony starts driving again. Slowly this time. They’re literally two blocks away from the dorm anyways. The ride is silent and when Tony parks the car at the curb, he finally lets go of the steering wheel. “Out,” he growls. Peter stares at Tony in disbelief. “What?” “Out.” Peter swallows, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. “So, what, you’re just gonna leave me here because your ex decided to get involved with me?” “That’s the worst way you could put that.” Peter drops his head against the back of his seat. “You know what? You’re an asshole, Tony. Honest to God, you’re an absolute asshole.” Tony doesn’t move as Peter opens the car door and shuts it, only barely holding back his strength. “I know what I did wasn’t smart, but don’t pretend you’re a saint.” “If all you’re gonna do is judge me for my anxieties then I’m just gonna drive off,” Tony says, starting the car again. Peter puts his hand on the car door, through the opened window and he grips on. Tony isn’t going anywhere.

“I can’t believe you’re back on your bullshit.” “Bullshit?” Tony scoffs. “You shove people away, Tony! The second shit gets hard you start pushing!” Tony keeps his foot off the gas, knowing Peter’s strength will actually stop him from moving. “I’m not letting you run away from me, Mr. Stark.” Tony nods, evading Peter’s gaze. “I know, kid.” “I’m sorry.” Peter’s voice cracks. His fingers are going to leave an imprint on the car, that’s how tightly he’s holding on. “I should have told you, Mr. Stark. I just didn’t want you to worry. But I should have told you. I should have.” Tony swallows, staring at the road in front of him. “It’s okay.” “It’s not. You know it.” Tony squeezes his eyes shut at Peter’s words. “I’m not angry with you, you know that right?” he whispers. “How could I be angry with you for wanting to protect me from myself?” Tony opens his eyes to look straight at Peter, only to see the tears running down his boy’s cheeks. “I just… I can’t deal with this, Pete. I can’t.” Peter nods slightly, his lip quivers. “I know.” It’s barely a sound. “I love you, Peter, but… I need some space right now. I- I can’t-” “It’s okay,” Peter mumbles. Tony scoffs, repeating what they just said, but reversed. “It’s not. You know it.” Peter’s fingers slowly uncurl, letting go of the car. “Maybe not. But if you need it, I won’t get in your way.” Tony releases his breath, raising his foot to rest on the gas. “Thank you,” he mutters. Peter takes a few steps back, looking at his feet. “I’ll be waiting for you,” he chokes out. The words send another surge of emotions through the man’s body and he takes a deep, shaky breath. Tony can’t find it in himself to reply anymore. He knows he’ll just break. He slowly presses his foot down, letting the tears flow as he drives away, leaving Peter behind by himself at his dorm, sobbing quietly.

--- More: Chapter 14 Masterpost