#I wish I could say my life has been intensely busy but it hasn't

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.5

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, confrontation, minhee lovers i am so sorry, no smut this chapter, injury, anything else lmk ch.5 synopsis: life is good for you and sunghoon after you become official, yet, things take a drastic turn very quickly, and you're stuck between love and loyalty. wc: 12k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! so this is where the shit gets real icl. i loved writing this chapter honestly, it holds a place in my heart but tbh, the whole series does. not many warnings or whatever and i don't want to spoil anything here so...enjoy! likes, reblogs, feeback are all welcome as always <3 thank you so much for the support, ilyasm.

As you flip through the pages of your Successful Event Management book, your attention wavers, consumed by thoughts of your boyfriend. Despite your efforts, the words on the pages seem to blur together as your mind dances with images of him. Each time the realisation hits that he's officially yours, you find yourself involuntarily twirling a strand of your hair, unable to contain your giggles or the playful kicks of your feet. It's almost unsettling how deeply he occupies your thoughts, and now that you can call him your man, it's as if the intensity has multiplied tenfold.

Over the past week, Sunghoon has been immersed in training, preparing for Nationals, leaving little time for your usual moments together. But you understand, what with Nationals coming up, he has to be prepared for it. Your understanding doesn’t mean you don’t miss him any less though. This time apart has been the longest you’ve gone without seeing him in the past 4 months and it feels agonisingly long.

It’s just past October and you probably missed him most at Halloween, wishing you could have dressed up with him and gone to Rina’s party together, but he couldn’t cancel the trip to Japan he had. If it were any other schedule, he would have blown it off but everything had already been booked, he just couldn’t get out of it.

You loved your boyfriend's willingness to drop everything for you, even if it was often unnecessary. When you told him you nearly broke your ankle while walking down Rina's stairs in 6 inch heels and a bottle of Pinot in hand, Sunghoon instantly left his training and came to check on you. You told him about the incident so you could both laugh at how stupid you are but he didn’t find anything funny, not until he saw you were okay and giggling with Rina as if nothing had happened. 

That’s one thing that’s slightly changed since becoming official, Sunghoon is way more protective of you. Truth be told, he’s always been protective, he can just showcase it more now.

You adored him in every way a person can be adored. All his flaws, all his perfections, he was all yours.

A ping from your phone pauses your idle daydreaming.

My Hoonie ♡

9:10pm: look outside

It’s ominous but you can't resist the pull to glance out the window. Swirling out of your desk chair, you're met with the unexpected sight of Sunghoon, grinning from ear to ear and waving animatedly, as if beckoning you to join him outside.

Why the fuck is he here? He normally texts you to meet him at the corner of the street so he’s out of sight of your family.

Keeping Sunghoon a secret has been surprisingly easy these days, given how rarely you saw Minhee. You sent your brother a play-by-play of what occurred at the ceremony, along with a few pictures, but he hasn't spoken to you since his brief 'Nice' text response. You tried to initiate a few conversations with him about it, asking if anything was bothering him, but he just replied he was busy with training.

He no longer takes you to train with him, but you can't put all the blame on him; you've been telling him you're too tired for weeks to accompany him; he probably just assumed you'd keep saying the same excuse.

You missed him even though he was only across the hallway.

You quickly put on the jumper Sunghoon had given you, grab your phone, and slip on your shoes as you prepare to make a discreet getaway. With your family still inside the house, you turn the front door handle with full caution, making no sound as you sneak out to meet Sunghoon.

"What are you doing here?" you whisper urgently as you greet him.

Sunghoon brings you in for a kiss while his hand cradles the back of your head, answering your question with his actions rather than his words. He missed you, that’s all there was to it. 

"Are you free?" he murmurs against your lips, his kisses lingering, "I want to take you on a date."

You pull back slightly, taken aback, "A date? Why all of a sudden?"

"I realised I haven't properly treated you to a date," Sunghoon admits, a tinge of guilt evident in his tone. The ill-timing of officially becoming a couple and his intense training schedule for Nationals made it look like he was putting in no effort now that he had you. He never intended to spend less time with you, it’s just what happened. 

You lean back to look at him sceptically, “We’ve been on plenty of dates, Hoonie.”

"Shh, just let me take you out, please?" he playfully feigns annoyance, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Looking back at your home, you consider the options available. On one hand, there's a mountain of tasks awaiting your attention now that the new school year has kicked off. On the other hand, there's the tempting prospect of spending time with your beloved.

Was it even a question?

"Do I need to change?" you ask, casting a critical eye over your attire: his hoodie, some well-worn leggings, and slightly battered shoes—hardly your typical date ensemble. Sunghoon inspects you, pinching your leggings to rub the fabric thoughtfully, “What are you doing?” you ask quizically, raising an eyebrow.

"Just checking the thickness," he replies, turning you around and lifting the hoodie slightly to inspect the material covering your butt. "They'll do," he declares, giving your ass a playful slap to signify the end of his examination. "I have a pair of your other leggings in my car. We could layer," he suggests with a grin.

You don’t have a clue what he’s planning but it can’t be good. 

Sunghoon interlocks his fingers with yours and walks you to his car up the end of the street. The air is growing cooler now that it's early November, so all you can do is sigh with happiness as you take your seat in his warm car. 

With the early November air turning crisp, you sink into the warmth of his car seat, unable to suppress a contented sigh. Over the past few weeks, Sunghoon has allowed you to personalize the interior of his car to your heart's content. 

It started with a simple addition—a plush teddy bear seatbelt cover to cushion the strap that always seemed to bite into you. But it quickly escalated, evolving into a display of your quirks and interests: stickers adorning the glove compartment, a bobblehead of Cinnamoroll dangling from the dashboard with a matching Tuxedosam counterpart on his side, and even a change in the air freshener scent from ocean breeze to peony and cherry blossoms. Each addition is a testament to your bond and the little ways you've woven your lives together.

His life was covered in you, and he has never been happier.

Since the award ceremony, Sunghoon's skating demeanour has noticeably lightened, shedding the weight of perfectionism now that he has your unwavering support echoing in his ears and he knows you mean it because when he glances over to you in the stands, he sees the pride in your eyes. Coach Lee has commented on it a couple of times, saying how his Nationals performance might be his best yet and to keep up the good work. With you by his side, Sunghoon finds joy in skating again, rediscovering the passion that initially drew him to the sport.

"So, where are we headed?" you inquire, fastening your seatbelt and tuning into the radio.

Sunghoon starts the car and pulls away, his hand resting reassuringly on your thigh, "You'll find out soon enough," he replies cryptically. Normally, surprises catch you off guard, leaving you feeling unprepared—an impromptu birthday party is one thing, but this unexpected adventure is an entirely different story.

He chuckles at your attempt to decipher his plans, giving your leg a playful squeeze, "Sweets, I promise I'm not leading you into a cornfield and abandoning you there. You'll enjoy it, I swear."

“A cornfield is so specific, now I don’t trust you at all”  you tease, your tone laced with mock suspicion, though there's a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it all.

As the drive progresses, a sense of familiarity settles in, and when the car pulls up at Belmore, you twist in your seat to face him. "Belmore?" you query, eyebrows raised in surprise. His only response is a knowing nod, a roguish smirk playing on his lips.

"Baby, no offence, but watching you train isn't exactly my idea of a romantic date. And if it ever did count, I think we've been on far too many dates for only being together a month," you point out with a playful yet pointed look.

Sunghoon parks the car and switches off the engine, turning to you with a grin, "So, you don't consider our friends-with-benefits phase as being together?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Because technically, we've been together for like four months."

"No, our 'fuck buddy era' definitely doesn't count," you retort, stepping out of the car.

"That's a shame," Sunghoon muses, a playful glint in his eyes. "I had grand plans to whisk you away for our six-month anniversary in January. I guess I'll just have to enjoy Jeju on my own," he shrugs nonchalantly, locking the car before striding towards the main building, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

You quickly fall into step with him, looping your arm in his, a gleam of merriment in your eyes. "Well, I suppose we could round it up to four months," you offer, hoping he was just joking about going himself.

You're not about to let the opportunity for a trip with your man slip through your fingers, even if he's just teasing. You've been dropping hints about wanting to hike Hallasan Mountain and go tangerine picking on Jeju Island so often that he's actually started a 'Jeju Jar' where you contribute money whenever you mention it.

Sunghoon graciously holds the door open for you, and Miss Barbara's cheerful wave as she recognises you only adds to the excitement bubbling within you.

Miss Barbara has been in on your little secret love affair since you made it official, her only bribery she requested to keep it a secret was a bag of Revels on top of her usual Toffee gift. 

"Hi, Miss Barbara," you greet her warmly as you approach the reception desk.

"Hello, Y/N, Sunghoon. How are my favorite forbidden lovers?" she exclaims with a twinkle in her eye, settling back in her chair.

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "It's not quite as dramatic as you make it out to be, Miss Barbara," he replies with a good-natured smile, though the receptionist waves off his comment. She's fond of weaving your relationship into a romantic narrative, a tale of two star-crossed lovers defying societal norms to be together. It's a bit over the top, but it gives her something to gush over.

"We're doing well. Is anyone in there?" you inquire, grateful for Miss Barbara's discreet support. With her on your side, it's easier to gauge just how obvious your affection for each other can be. While you don't hide your love in everyday life, at the rink, you're more cautious. The last thing you need is for any of the coaches or, heaven forbid, your families to catch you in a moment of intimacy. That could set you both back to square one.

Keeping it a secret until after Nationals wasn’t just for the benefit of Minhee, but also for your own sanity. If one of your mothers found out, that would be it, you would never hear the end of it. 

“Nope, all free. Coach Kim just left and not another soul in sight.” Miss Barbara confirms.

"Thanks, Miss Barbara. This was a spur-of-the-moment thing, so we'll make sure to bring you double sweet treats tomorrow," Sunghoon promises, knowing full well she's eagerly anticipating her goodies.

"Triple and I'll let you in on a little secret," she counters, arms crossed expectantly. Sunghoon nods in agreement, intrigued, "The coaches are planning to bring you and Minhee in tomorrow for peer review and a Nationals run-through, to ensure you're both in top form for the competition in two weeks. It's a new method they want to try to strengthen your connection, especially since you're both going to be on the same Olympic team," she reveals, her tone filled with anticipation.

Your eyes widen in shock as Miss Barbara's words sink in. "Wait, Minhee and the Olympics?" you repeat, the idea sounding both fitting and surreal at the same time.

"Oh yeah, he's been putting in a ton of hours here, especially in the last three weeks. Coach Kim believes he's more than ready," she confirms with a knowing smile, leaning in conspiratorially. "But shh, it's a surprise. The coaches plan to break the news to him when he places in the top three at Nationals."

The news hits you like a wave of emotions. It's beyond perfect - your brother finally achieving his lifelong dream after years of hard work and dedication. A sense of pride and happiness swells within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Suddenly, you get a strange feeling because the more you think about how excited you are for him, you realise Miss Barbara has just said he's here a lot, but you didn't know that. Although you may not have seen him recently, you should be aware that he is spending his time here. You used to know his entire schedule.

“Was my mum here with him?” you inquire, a hint of concern in your voice.

"No, he's usually by himself or with Coach Kim. Didn't he mention it to you? I was wondering why you haven't been with him like usual," Miss Barbara explains, her tone sympathetic.

Sunghoon notices the discontent written across your face, assuming it's because of the impending peer review with Minhee tomorrow morning. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he gently guides you towards the rink. "Thanks for the heads up," he acknowledges gratefully.

As he leads you into the arena, you can feel the excitement draining from your shoulders, leaving you feeling deflated. Sunghoon hates seeing you like this. He wishes he could simply pluck the negative thoughts from your mind and replace them with happiness, but all he can do is offer distraction.

"Sweets, wait here for a minute," he murmurs, planting a kiss atop your head before darting off to the back rooms to fetch some necessary tools for your impromptu date, leaving you to wonder what surprises he has in store.

A few minutes later, Sunghoon returns, his excitement palpable as he practically skips towards you, hands hidden behind his back. The mischievous glint in his eyes sends a shiver of apprehension down your spine, "Sunghoon, what's going on?" you inquire warily.

He stops in front of you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You aren't going to watch me train," he announces, revealing a pair of pristine white ice skates and a deep blue helmet from behind his back, which he then presents to you, "I'm teaching you how to skate."

The look on your face is one of absolute shock. You have already told him how your mum had tried to get you on the ice when you were little and it wasn’t pretty, you can barely walk in the skates never mind glide on the ice. Did he forget this was the one thing you explicitly said you couldn’t and wouldn’t do?

Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Sunghoon's arms drop to his sides, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features. "Come on, it'll be fun! I'm a great teacher," he insists, trying to persuade you. Taking the skates from his hand, you inspect them apprehensively, feeling a surge of fear at the sight of the gleaming blades.

"Look, baby," Sunghoon begins, his voice softening as he places a hand on your shoulder. "You've mentioned how you never took to the ice well, but it occurred to me today that maybe that's because your mum had all these dreams about the Kang siblings dominating the figure skating world. That's a lot of pressure for a seven-year-old. But this... this is just for fun. A simple, free lesson from South Korea's greatest skater who promises to never shout or get impatient with you," he reassures, placing a hand over his heart in a solemn pledge.

It’s true you suppose, there would be no need to feel a weight on your shoulders to be as good as Minhee or have your mum telling you how easy it was and that you just weren’t trying hard enough. 

The sparkle in Sunghoon's eyes only adds to your resolve to give this a shot. He wants to share his love for the sport with you, and you can't help but feel touched by his enthusiasm. If he's willing to keep both feet firmly on the ice, then maybe, just maybe, you can brave this adventure.

"Fine, but I'm not jumping under any circumstances," you bargain with a playful glint in your eye. The last thing you want is to end up flat on your back on the ice. If Sunghoon can promise to keep you grounded, then you'll give it a try.

Sunghoon’s face radiates with glee once you accept his date idea, which is good for him because he doesn’t have a backup. He sits you down on the bench and helps you put on the skates, fastening them tightly. He goes over the warnings every skater gets about new skates, and how they need to be broken in so they might nip at the skin. He’s already tried to stretch them out for you by making Wonyoung wear them for a little while when she warmed up. 

Once both of your skates are securely laced up, Sunghoon swiftly puts on his own, his familiarity with them evident in his speed. He's had these skates for a year now, and they've never failed him.

"Put your helmet on, babe," he instructs, handing it to you. You look at it with disdain, but he catches your expression and intervenes, "I get that it's not glamorous, but the last thing I need is for you to smash your head open," he reasons, gently placing the helmet on your head and fastening it securely.

"I don't want to fall in the first place!" you protest.

"I will always catch you, I promise," Sunghoon reassures you, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your helmet, as if it were your head. He offers a gentle smile, "Plus, the rink just got Zambonied, and they'll be peeved if you dirty up the nice ice with your blood."

"Sunghoon!" you exclaim, a mix of exasperation and affection in your tone.

______

Seventy minutes into the lesson, and you've only stumbled twice. The first time was when you initially stepped onto the ice, resembling one of those cartoon skits where the character can't find their footing and begins flailing everywhere. The second stumble occurred when you attempted to march in place, a simple task that somehow became a challenge on ice. Despite Sunghoon's assurances that you couldn't fall, you seem determined to prove him wrong, even in moments like these.

Nonetheless, you have made progress. Sunghoon has painstakingly taught you how to forward glide and perform a snowplough stop, which seemed impossible given your previous difficulties on the ice. Granted, he's been hovering only centimetres behind you the entire time, waiting to catch you if you fall, but progress is progress.

Now, he's introducing you to forward swizzles, a manoeuvre with a deceptively cute name that you're convinced spells disaster for you. With Sunghoon's reassuring grip on your arm, he explains the technique. "You're just going to do a forward glide and then kind of push your feet outward and then bring them back in a circular motion. Like this," he demonstrates, making it look effortless.

Of course, he makes it look like it’s the easiest thing in the whole world, like using a knife and fork, but he's dealing with a girl who can't even distinguish her left from her right or drive a go-kart without crashing it. This venture into forward swizzles feels like a daunting challenge, but with Sunghoon by your side, you're determined to give it your best shot.

Sunghoon skates to face you, taking both of your hands as you attempt to master the forward swizzles. For the most part, you're actually not too bad at it. But as confidence starts to swell within you, you let go of his hands, only to teeter dangerously on the edge of a fall once more.

True to his word, Sunghoon is there to catch you, his grip firm and reassuring.

Determined to get it right, you take a deep breath, calming your racing heart, and try again. Sunghoon can't help but admire you in this moment. Most people would have thrown in the towel by now, but he knows you're doing this not just for yourself, but for him too. It's a realisation that fills him with a profound sense of affection as he watches you concentrate intently, your tongue sticking out in concentration as you execute a few more forward swizzles with his assistance.

"That's it! My girl is so good at this," he praises, but you shoot him a pointed look. It's not angry; it's more of a silent plea for him to refrain from speaking and distracting you while you're focused. Understanding the cue, Sunghoon promptly stops talking, allowing you to concentrate.

As you cheer and sway joyfully, a surge of euphoria washes over you, you're briefly swept up in the exhilaration of your performance. But the laws of physics are unwavering, and the slippery ice beneath your skates is unforgiving. Without warning you lose your footing and collapse hard onto the ice, your head creating an unnerving thud as it hits the icy surface. Maybe the helmet was a good idea.

"Shit, Y/N!" Sunghoon's voice rings out in panic as he rushes over to you, his expression etched with concern. He kneels beside you, quickly assessing your condition and helping you sit up. Despite the impact, all you can do is laugh. What was once a terrifying prospect - falling on the ice - is now a source of amusement.

"I'm okay," you assure him between fits of laughter, patting the helmet atop your head. "Thank god for this piece of shit helmet, that's all I'm saying." But Sunghoon's expression remains tense, his worry evident, "It's okay, baby, I promise I'm fine. Let's take five, hmm?" you suggest, reaching out to stroke his cheek in a comforting gesture.

Sunghoon nods silently, sitting beside you on the cold ice, both of you ignoring the chill seeping through your clothes. He removes his gloves and places them on your hands, a small but tender gesture that sends a flutter of warmth through your stomach, despite the icy surroundings.

"You're actually pretty good at this, Sweets," Sunghoon compliments, taking your helmet off.

But you brush aside his comment, a question that's been nagging at you for a while now finally bubbling to the surface. "I have a question," you begin, ignoring his compliment. "Why do you call me Sweets? Like, you've called me that since you started skating here."

Sunghoon's face flushes with a deep red blush as he gazes up at the rafters, gathering his thoughts. "I've been calling you that for a lot longer than that," he confesses quietly.

"What do you mean?" you press further, turning your body to face him, curiosity piqued. For all the time you've spent together, you've never questioned the origin of the endearing nickname.

He exhales softly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he begins to reminisce. "Do you remember when you were 14, and you confessed to me with a packet of sweets and a makeshift card?" The memory floods back to you, each detail vivid and clear. "You came up to me at one of the Youth competitions and gave them to me - a packet of Love Hearts, I think.” You want to protest but the more he speaks about it, the more the memory comes back to you.

Back then, you had mustered up all your courage to ask him out after years of secretly admiring him. You knew it was a long shot, considering Sunghoon was the most sought-after skater in the Junior division, but you took the chance anyway. You had even dressed up in your best outfit and attempted makeup—a slick of lip gloss from a teen magazine and a touch of mascara you'd pilfered from your mom's makeup bag.

"You knocked me back!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of offense, "I poured my heart and soul into that card, and you didn't even spare it a glance. I remember now!"

Sunghoon shakes his head defensively, "I did look at it! And I ate the sweets too," he tries to argue back, but the realization only seems to deepen your offense, "Wait, no! I know I said no, but... I had my reasons, okay?"

"Oh yeah, what?" you challenge, shaking your head sassily, eager to hear his explanation.

"I... It doesn't matter, does it? Look who won?" Sunghoon smoothly redirects the conversation back to the present day, "You've got me whipped for you."

You raise an eyebrow, conceding that he does have a point. He is your boyfriend now, albeit five years later than you originally wanted—or eleven years, if you count all the time you spent pining over him as a kid.

"Exactly," you agree, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "If you told fourteen-year-old Y/N Kang that Park Sunghoon would be desperately in love with her now, I think she'd pass out." 

Silence.

Deafening silence.

Sunghoon stares down at his skates, eyes wide and mouth dry. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air, catching both of you off guard. He hadn't anticipated the words to spill out so spontaneously, and he's never felt more vulnerable in his life.

Park Sunghoon loves you. He is in love with you.

The arena seemed to vibrate with the weight of his confession, wrapping you both in startled stillness. You can't comprehend it - Sunghoon didn't just say he loved you; he confessed to being desperately in love with you. The enormity of his admission takes your breath away, bringing back memories of your 14-year-old self, who would have had no idea how to deal with such a discovery. Even at 19, the reality of his love has you spinning.

"You love me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from the ice beneath your feet. The words hang in the air, heavy with disbelief and wonder.

Finally, Sunghoon meets your gaze, his own expression a mixture of apprehension and hope. Seeing the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your lips eases some of the tension in his chest. He had thought his love for you was obvious, but he had never found the courage to say it out loud before.

"I do," he affirms, his voice soft but unwavering.

“How long?” you inquire, stealing a glance at him.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, a playful gleam in his eyes as he picks up the helmet and spins it in his hands. “Ah, I can’t tell you that,” he teases, “If I do, you’ll never get your head back in this.” His laughter lightens the mood, but you're not satisfied with his evasive response.

Snatching the helmet from him, you firmly place it back on your head. “See, now you can tell me. It still fits, and there's even a little room,” you declare, shaking your head to demonstrate how loose it is.

Sunghoon reaches over to fasten the helmet again, his laughter mixing with yours. His fingers linger on the strap, tracing it until he reaches your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his gaze. “It's been a long time,” he admits, his voice soft but earnest. The more animated your expression becomes, the more the doubt that lingered in his mind fades away.

You don't hesitate to seize the moment, pouncing on him and knocking him back onto the ice. Your chest presses against his as you pin him down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that steals the air from his lungs. Both of you are grinning like fools, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

But there's still one final piece missing from this perfect moment.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you whisper into his mouth, your words laden with sincerity. You hope he can feel the depth of your feelings, knowing that you're not just saying it out of obligation but because you truly mean it.

“It was me, by the way,” he admits sheepishly, catching your curious gaze. You silently prompt him to continue, which he happily does “The sweets my dad gave you all the time? I asked him to give them to you. You looked so miserable one day that I gave up the packet of Haribos my dad would sneak me. After I saw your face light up, I told him to just keep giving them to you instead.”

Your heart feels like it could burst with joy. Why hadn’t he told you this before when you brought it up at the cafe? “Why did you do that?” you inquire, searching for an explanation.

Sunghoon just shrugs, playing it off, kissing you on your nose to distract you from asking any more questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. 

You look at each other and exchange sweet, short kisses on each other's lips. The moment is filled with innocence, and pure love surrounds you. But as the rink's ice starts to seep into your bodies, you both realise that, while the kisses and giggles warm you up, the frostbite on Sunghoon's ass is getting a little too much.

He stands, offering you a hand up, which you gladly accept, trying not to wobble. His lips find yours again within seconds, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over like it's a sacred mantra. Even as he picks you up and spins you around, the words never falter.

Your feet dangle in the air, suspended and untethered, a sensation that terrifies you but this whole situation is. Being in love with someone as deeply as you are with Sunghoon, anyone would find it a little scary - that’s even taking out the impending conversation you’ll need to have with Minhee. You can’t believe someone like Sunghoon is even in love with you a little bit. You counted your blessings every day that he even bothered to spend time with you or ask you to be his girlfriend, this was just surreal.

“We should go, yeah? Especially if I have to show up your brother tomorrow,” he suggests, setting you down gently.

“Sunghoon, be nice to him tomorrow, yeah? Don’t provoke him. This is important for him,” you plead with him, your voice laced with concern. All you want is for Minhee to come out of tomorrow's session feeling confident and ready. If your boyfriend starts to poke fun at him, it'll only serve to undermine Minhee's focus and now that he has a chance to go to the Olympics, he needs to feel confident, not taunted.

Sunghoon follows you as you carefully skate off the rink, back to the security of the grated mats outside. “I’m going to give him the critique he needs, brutal or not,” he says, his tone tinged with frustration. Sitting on the bench, he begins to remove his skates. He knows you don’t mean it to sound this way, but your phrasing made it seem like tomorrow wasn’t as significant for him. A whole run-through of his routine in front of everyone to determine if he's ready for Nationals? That's just as crucial for him as it is for your brother.

Ridding yourself of the devil skates you massage your feet. You have a greater respect for anyone that has to wear them for more than an hour, “And that’s fine, but don’t be a dick about it. This could be our chance to sway his opinion of you and make telling him about us easier.”

“Well, are you going to tell him the same thing? Because he isn’t exactly friendly towards me either,” Sunghoon counters. He can't argue with your logic; building a bridge with your brother would make things easier for you both. However, he isn’t willing to let Minhee berate him without standing up for himself.

You sigh, feeling deflated by the conversation already, wondering why you even brought it up. “Sunghoon, please just be the bigger man here, for me. Can you do that?” you ask, your voice pleading.

Putting his blade guards back on with a forceful gesture, he lets out an exasperated groan. “No. I will do anything for you, Sweets, but I draw the line at letting him walk over me,” he asserts firmly.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” you insist, gently pulling his face to meet yours. “If he’s rude to you, you can defend yourself, but just don’t take it too far or say anything unnecessary, especially about his skating.” The tone in your voice, combined with your touch, begins to soften the tension in his body. He grudges how much of an effect on him, “Please? Because you love me?”

He sticks his tongue into the side of his mouth and swipes it along his inner lip, “Wow, are we playing that card now?” You nod, and a satisfied smile sits smugly on your face. It was a low blow, you know that, but when push comes to shove. Inhaling deeply he agrees reluctantly, “Fine, I will be nice to him. But it’s in no way is it for his benefit, I’m doing it for us.”

You’ll take it. It’s a start and every reconciliation has to start somewhere, “Thank you, baby.” You press a smooch to his cheek and stand up, locating your shoes and putting them on.

Glancing at your phone, you notice it's past 11pm and there are a couple of messages from your mom. She's letting you know that you can't stay at Rina's tonight because Coach has requested Minhee's presence tomorrow morning, and she wants you to be there too. And you want to be there, because right now you feel a little like a shit sibling missing out on his training when it used to be the one activity you looked forward to together. 

And he’s been all alone the whole time. What was going on with your mum these days? She would rather die than miss a Minhee schedule, even if it were just practice. 

Sunghoon hugs you from behind, reading your messages, “Don’t tell me the witch is cock blocking me?” 

That’s the other thing about him being your boyfriend, you’ve started to open up to him a lot more about your relationship with your mum and how thin the bond is. You told him about her moving you out of your old room to make way for Minhee’s trophies, how she made you skip Rina’s birthday to attend a dinner with a potential sponsor when you didn’t even have to be there, and so many other unfortunate occasions.

Sunghoon was seething each time you spoke about her because you’re her daughter, you’re meant to be the joy of her life and it sounds like you’re just an inconvenience. Truthfully, you hadn’t paid much mind to it before you said all your woes with her out loud, but Sunghoon doesn’t see it as casually as you do. 

“Guess tomorrow morning is officially happening then,” You say, messaging back a quick ‘okay’ to your mum, “I’m sorry, Hoonie, I can’t come back to yours,” You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as his grip gets tighter around you.

“Sweets, it’s okay. I just wish I got to fuck you good after I proclaimed my undying love for you finally,” he kisses down your neck, “Guess I’ll just need to take you home after I wipe the floor clean of your brother.” 

Angrily, you turn around, “Any more of that and you’ll not only not be able to fuck me, you’ll also be single.” You’re not messing about and Sunghoon knows it.

“Sorry,” He winces, rubbing your arms, “Force of habit. I promise tomorrow I will be on my absolute best behaviour!” he kisses you but you don’t kiss him back, still trying to keep your annoyed demeanour. “Aw, c’mon, baby, don’t be like that! I promise skaters honour and all that.”

“You better be, Hoonie,” you warn him, finally giving in and kissing him back once, just to let him think he can’t get away with it that easily, even if he can. 

As you walk out of the arena, he follows you, stooping down to whisper, "You're kinda sexy when you're mad like that." You know he's only half-joking, so you don't play into it because if you do, he'll make you angry more often since he knows you aren't able to stay angry. Instead, you say your goodnights to Miss Barbara and make your way to his car.

He’s a piece of work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You love him exactly how he is.

_____________________

Applying the last finishing touches of your makeup, you check yourself out. Today was a big day, so yes it’s a little extreme to get dolled up at 5am on a Wednesday, but you’re seeing Minhee and Sunghoon skate their Nationals routines in full today, so what’s not to be excited about?

If anyone had told you that today you would feel no nervousness about the both of them being so close to one another, you would have told them to pull the next joke out of their ass. There was no way that could happen but it is and Sunghoon promised to try and be civil with your brother. So now all your worries are on them and their skates. 

You’ve seen Sunghoon’s routine countless times, so you know what to expect, but Minhee was a whole different story. It still irks your heart that you haven’t seen your brother train, you feel awful, truly. You just need to cheer for him extra loud today.

You grab your tote bag, which has some extra panties since you're spending the night with your sweetheart, and head out of your room. His roommates have joked that you’re moving in since you’ve left so much stuff at his place including a toothbrush, clothes, shampoo and conditioner, and even a spare book to read if you wake up before him in the morning. Not like you meant to, just over time it happened.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear Minhee and your mum whispering about something, but it’s hard to make out the conversation. Carefully tiptoeing towards the kitchen, you hold your breath, trying not to make a noise. They don’t normally whisper, especially not at this hour, so whatever they're discussing must be important.

“I can handle it, Mum, I told you,” Minhee's voice is heavy with sadness. Has he always sounded this despondent, or are you just overthinking?

“Good. I've invested too much for you to Cave now. When we get there, you know what you need to do, right?” What is Minhee supposed to do? Cave doing what? What does he have to do? Skate?

There are so many questions that need answers just by this snippet of conversation. You press your back to the wall of the hallway to make sure you stay hidden, hoping for any sort of clarity.

“Mum, I said I got it.” he snaps back and leaves it there, packing his bag, “Did you let Y/N know about today?”

“About the run-through? Yes, I told her.” your mum pours herself a coffee into her reusable cup.

Minhee rubs his eyes, clearly exhausted. Now that you’re getting a good glimpse of him after a few weeks, he looks a lot thinner and the circles under his eyes are a deeper shade than normal, “I told you not to tell her, she doesn’t need to be a part of this,” he zips his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

Does he not want me to be there for his skates anymore? Is that why he hasn’t invited me?

You can’t make head or tail of the conversation or what they mean, but the last thing you want is for Minhee to shut you out. 

“Oh, Y/N there you are,” your mum spots you, foiling your plan to eavesdrop.

At the sound of your name, Minhee tenses, pausing in his tracks for a beat. He was acting so strange, it made you hurt for him. Your brother was so lively and now he looks like a shell of himself. 

Putting on a cheerful facade to conceal your concern, you approach Minhee and casually swipe half of the banana from his hand, as you would normally do. If he were his usual self, Minhee would protest loudly, demanding you to get your own fruit. But instead, he simply hands you the rest without a word.

“Both of you hurry up, we need to go,” your mum whooshes past you both and heads for the front door, leaving you and Minhee on your own.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, quiet as a kitten. 

Minhee nods his head once and brushes by you, not even glancing at you. The relationship you have with him is now feeling like you’re strangers. You don’t know what spurred this change on but you have a high suspicion it’s because of you.

Obviously, you don’t want it to be, but you haven’t really spent time with him recently or supported him the way you should have. He probably feels neglected, something you never want him to feel.

Taking hold of his wrist you stop him before he exits for the car, “Mini, I’m sorry for not being at your training sessions. Miss Barbara said that you’ve been going to the rink a lot, I should have made it to at least one of those.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I don’t need you there.” 

That hurt. A lot. 

He finally glances down at you and sees your eyes flash with hurt, “I’ve been going spontaneously, you’ve been busy with school and…Rina. Our schedules don’t fit anymore,”  he plays it off but you’re his sister and you know he’s hiding something deeper in his nonchalant words.

Pulling his wrist from your grip, Minhee goes to the car, leaving you a lot more concerned for him than before.

As your mum pulls up to Belmore you see Sunghoon’s car already here. He must be getting in the practice he missed last night because of your date. You would feel guilty about it if it wasn’t his idea.

When the engine stops, there is a weird tension in the air as everyone has gone into covert mode. You want to break the silence but you can’t fathom what to say right now. 

"Minhee, I'm feeling good about today, do well," your mother says. Despite her words of positivity, her expression portrays a different mindset, as if she is just saying what she knows she should.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you grin at him, "Do your best, Mini, that's all anyone can ask," He smiles back at you, acknowledging your words. What's strange is that he takes your hand and squeezes it, his eyes fixed on yours. Sibling communication is turned on; you just can't understand what he's saying to you.

Walking into the arena is a completely different vibe from last night, no peace to be found. The coaches are happily chatting about their prodigies; it’s nice to see them getting along considering they were also pushed together through this blending of rinks. You wished the same for Minhee and Sunghoon.

Speaking of Sunghoon, he isn’t anywhere to be seen, he’s not on the ice like you thought he would be. 

“Minhee, go get changed, me and your sister will be over there,” your mum points to the same two seats you’ve both occupied for over a decade, “Don’t fuck it up, I’m serious.”

How can she be so harsh? 

Minhee simply waves you both off, shoulders slumped. While you watch him retreat to the changing room, you scowl at your mum, a toxic taste in your mouth at how rude she is being. At the end of the day, Minhee was always her favourite child, and now she can’t even be bothered with him.

Deciding he can’t go out with those being the last words he hears, you excuse yourself and walk in the same direction. You say your hellos to the usual staff as you go into the back hallway, scouting the place for your brother.

Without warning, you’re being pulled back and pinned to the wall. You almost scream until you feel those perfect lips that belong to your boyfriend, smushed against yours. 

Perplexed by his actions, you look around to see if anyone saw you. Fortunately, you were hidden enough, “Hoonie! What are you doing?” 

“I needed a good luck kiss, that’s all,” he smirks, “What do you think?” he draws back and shows you the outfit he was planning to wear at Nationals and your natural reaction is to gasp.

The royal blue silk shirt was basic, but you knew it would spring to life once he got on the ice, and his black slim trousers had crystals embroidered down the side as well as all around the bottom, the gems a mix of white and three shades of blue. He really fits the description of Ice Prince.

Spinning around on his tippy toes, he awaits your response. He felt good in it like he was one hundred percent ready.

“You look like you belong in a museum,” Gawking at him, you cover your mouth, you haven’t seen him look so handsome in any skating costume before, “Why are you wearing it just now?” 

He shrugs, “Coach thought it would be good to see how it holds up since I went with a new designer,” he smiles, rubbing up and down his torso. The material feels so good, he’s grown a habit of touching it whenever he can, “I’ll need to thank Karina when I’m done.”

“Huh? Why?” 

“You’re looking at a Yu Jimin original, I’ve been told she’s going to be famous.” Sunghoon grins at your surprised face.

Your best friend made this outfit? Her talents never failed to amaze you but she had never let anyone wear the clothes she made, not even you unless she was sampling. How on earth did he pull this off? 

Inspecting the costume more carefully, you see Rina’s signature stitching aka the first one she learnt and stuck with because she can ‘always make it work’ and to be fair, she does. It really was hers and your boyfriend was wearing it. 

But she would never do it out of the kindness of her own heart, “How much did she charge?” you ask worried, Rina could easily have bumped up the price since it was Sunghoon, milking him of the money she knew he had.

“Not a penny,” He stands proudly, but you know him, and you know your best friend, so you give him a dubious look, “Well, it didn’t cost money, I gave her a matching Tiffany ring and bracelet set.” He throws the sentence out as if the jewellery didn’t cost 4 times the wages you got this month.

“Hoonie, What the fuck?” 

"Nah, I got these for free a while back. I was planning to gift you them for your birthday." Wearing a playful smile, you tilt your head back as you absorb the unexpected information of your given-away gifts. Sunghoon instantly becomes aware of what he's just confessed. "Then I realised you're worth more than free jewellery and I swear when I gave her them, it was in the most 'I don't love you, this is just to get on Y/N's good side by winning you over' kinda way." 

Sunghoon bats his long eyelashes after he stumbles over his words, nervous you might get the wrong idea. You didn’t though, you know he’s only got eyes for you. 

It does make you laugh and think about how lucky you are, “Thank you for trying to get along with her,” you leave out the jib about it being your supposed gift because you can see how hard he is trying. 

Sunghoon wants to be a part of your life, that much is evident, and he’ll do anything he can to integrate himself peacefully, cautious to not disrupt too much. Rina was an easy win because as soon as she saw the trademark Tiffany Blue boxes she was on his side. Plus, the chance to have her first-ever design worn on a televised competition wasn’t really an opportunity she could pass up.

“I just need to win over Minhee now,” he says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you closer. But as you remain unresponsive, lost in thought, his concern grows. "Sweets? What's wrong?"

Your mind is consumed by the events of the morning with Minhee. It gnaws at you - his lack of confidence and timid nature seems perplexing, especially given Miss Barbara's assurance that he's practically a shoo-in for the Olympic team. If there ever was a time for Minhee to exude self-assurance, it's now.

Sunghoon shakes you a little, bringing you back, “Sorry, baby, I need to see Minhee.”

“Is everything okay?” Concern is painted on his face but you can’t let him worry over something that doesn’t involve him.

“It’s fine. Good luck out there,” you pull him for an unintentionally long kiss. He melts against you, using his arms to bring you into him, hoping his touch will give you some sort of comfort. Even if you don’t tell him right now, he knows when you’re ready, you’ll let him in on what has you this way.

Stepping out of the hiding spot, you briskly walk to the changing room to find your brother. You don’t want to cast a shadow over his day, not when this performance meant so much for him, but the anxiety and concerns embedded in your body need to be aired. You need to know what’s going on.

As you approach the room, Minhee is just walking out, head hung low. 

He quickly spots you and his eyes stretch wide, “What are you doing here?” he looks around urgently before looking back at you. 

“I just wanted to talk to you. Mum was way out of line back there and I needed you to know I’m proud of you, no matter what happens. You’ve worked so hard and I know how much this skate means considering it’s basically your ticket to the Olympics, and that’s always-”

Minhee interrupts you, “Wait, pause, what do you mean Olympics?” 

Shit. You had to tell him now, you couldn’t backtrack such a monumental piece of information.

“Miss Barbara told me that Coach Kim said you’re ready for it, and if you pass this and make it to Nationals, you’ll be offered a place on the South Korean Olympic team.” You blurt it all out at once and the smile on Minhee’s face grows bigger and bigger with each word.

“You’re not fucking with me, are you?” he asks, his tone in disbelief.

Shaking your head, you mirror his vibrant smile, “No, you’re a shoo-in!” 

Suddenly, Minhee picks you up and squeezes you tight, laughing lightly. You shouldn’t have let it slip but seeing the sadness wash away from him was worth it, even if it ruined the surprise. Coach Kim is so confident in his abilities, and so are you, you just needed Minhee to believe it too.

He puts you down, running his hand through his hair, still processing the good news. Minhee whispers to himself how he can’t believe it. You’ve watched him work tirelessly for this since you were kids, and you also saw how disappointed he was when he missed out on the Youth Olympics, so seeing him now at 20 practically being offered a place on the team is a dream come true for both of you. All you’ve ever wanted was for him to succeed.

Looking behind you, Minhee’s face drops again. As you look to see what caused the sudden change, you see Sunghoon walking towards you both. For the first time in 4 months, you didn’t want to see him right now; Minhee was finally in better spirits and you can’t have Sunghoon ruining it now. But he promised to behave, to take the high road, so you trust him to do just that.

Sunghoon stands beside you, his hand goes to sit on your lower back instinctively but he catches himself, pointing to the rink instead, “Coaches asked if you’re good to go or if you need a warm-up?”

You can’t lie, you’re proud of Sunghoon for not making a snide remark about how Minhee would need the warm-up. It’s tiny, but it’s progress.

Glaring into his eyes, Minhee doesn’t say anything, biting his lips into a thin line and nodding in acknowledgement. 

What is up with him today? You know why Sunghoon is being a bit nicer, but where is Minhee’s sarcastic quip?

“Can I get in there?” Sunghoon gestures to the changing room, “Left my skates,” You move to the side but Minhee doesn’t budge, “Are you seriously going to make me walk around you?” Sunghoon scoffs.

Again, Minhee doesn’t move but you know it’s not in a defiant way, his face isn’t giving you the normal ‘I hate Sunghoon’ look, it’s giving you more of a concern concealed by a deadpan face kind of vibe. Strange. 

Sunghoon isn’t as attuned to your brother's emotions, so he takes offence to Minhee’s resistance to move and pushes him out of the way, “You’re pathetic, Kang.”

You bite your tongue down hard, trying to suppress the anger bubbling inside you. Although Sunghoon warned you already that if Minhee provoked him, he would snap back but he didn’t have to call him pathetic. 

Minhee clenches his jaw and fists, trying to calm himself down. You take the opportunity to rub his arms, soothing him a little, “Don’t listen to him, Mini. Go out there and do your best, yeah? Remember what I told you.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m basically going to the Olympics.”

“No,” you smile softly at him, “I’m proud of you, for everything you’ve achieved and everything you will,” Stepping to stand beside him, you push him towards the rink. The words might not mean anything to him, but you say every syllable with as much sincerity as you can. 

He takes off his blade protectors and skates onto the rink, doing a few laps to warm up. Seeing him glide across the ice, practising his jumps with ease. Miss Barbara was right, he has improved a lot and that’s saying something considering he was already one of the best skaters.

Sunghoon walks up beside you, his skates in one hand as the other takes yours, giving it a quick squeeze before he lets go, joining his coach on the other side. It was a quick moment no one would be able to see but Sunghoon saw the opportunity to touch you for luck just one last time before he had to pretend you meant nothing to him. The sooner you both tell Minhee, the better.

Going back to your seat next to your mother, she doesn’t spare you a look before asking where you went but you don’t bother answering her, choosing to focus your energy on Minhee. He takes his spot in the centre and shifts into his starting pose. He looked so elegant on the ice, even in his sports athleisure. You wonder how much begging and bribery it would take for Rina to make him a costume for his Olympic performance.

Coach Kim gives him a supportive thumbs-up as the music begins. From the bleachers, you see Minhee let out a nervous breath before he begins. His eyes scoot to you and your mum for a second and you use the time to smile and wave enthusiastically which seems to settle him.

As he starts his routine, you can see how his movements have been perfectly choreographed, his frame is poised and he showcases a seamless fusion of strength and elegance. You look to Sunghoon for a moment, who seems to echo your awed amazement. Minhee wove through his spins and intricate footwork with ease. It was like he was a painter and the ice was his canvas, painting the most delicate yet structured portrait. He was sensational.

Minhee looks to your mum mid-skate for approval but you already know she isn’t showing him what he needs, so he shifts to you, eyes never leaving yours as he hits his quadruple axel. The one move he’s been dying to get into his routine, the one move that burdened him forever because he could never land it, now he just achieved it with some ease.

Your hands are clasped to your chest, your face radiating a beam of joy and pride. You can’t believe he did what everyone told him was impossible for him to achieve. The expression on your face is just as elated as his.

He missed having you here to cheer him on, you can tell by the smile of appreciation on his face.

He finishes up his routine with a Biellmann Spin and ends the way he started as if he could continuously loop his performance - it’s been his signature for years.  The arena is silent as all eyes are on your brother as he relaxes from his pose and hunches over for breath. No one can quite believe the magic they just saw.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon is the first one to clap, a smirk on his face. He just witnessed a skate that might actually throw him off the top spot for Nationals, he had to respect it. You join in, standing up to jump and cheer his name. 

On cloud 9, Minhee skates over to Coach Kim who is eagerly awaiting to praise him, “Kid, you were incredible! Seriously, by far your best skate to date,” he roughly pats the skaters back and brings him in for a hug, “My kid is going to Nationals!” The moment was so sweet you naturally pouted before running down to meet him.

“Mini! Oh my god!” your voice pulls him away from his coach, the hug from him being replaced by you, “You did so good, I almost cried! Look at my eyes, I’m not lying,” you point to your face and true to your word, there are tears in the ducts of your eyes. 

Minhee ruffles your hair, “Thanks, Bubs,” he shines at the adoration he’s being soaked in, pure happiness circulating his body.

“You did well, Kang. I have nothing to fault.” Sunghoon’s voice booms behind you, his body pressing against yours as he congratulates Minhee, “Seriously, you’ve always skated well but it’s nice to see you finally bringing me some competition.”

Your brother pulls you from Sunghoon and tucks you into his side. It’s ironic how he’s protecting you from your own boyfriend. Minhee is on such a high, not even Sunghoon could ruin it for him but that doesn’t mean he has to say anything to him. He tightens the hold on your shoulder and walks you past Sunghoon. 

As he puts his guards back on, you take the chance to look at Sunghoon, mouthing him a ‘good luck’ and smile which he happily returns with a wink. He didn’t need luck, he was a pro, but now he does have to step up his game because if he doesn’t get the same reaction from the onlookers, his mum won’t let him leave the rink until he does.

Taking your seat, Minhee gives your mum a look to which she only nods. Was that all he was going to get from her? You seriously needed to find out what had turned them so cold to one another. But that’s future you’s problem, right now, you focus on Sunghoon while he puts on his skates.

He circles the ice, stretching his legs and arms, yet his expression is one of unknowingness. While he chips his skates into the surface a few times, he becomes uneasy. 

Regardless of how he feels, Sunghoon takes his starting stance, arms in the air and one leg spread out behind him.

Beginning his routine, the blare of Ocean Eyes plays through the speakers. The song, the routine, the outfit, everything was cohesive. Sunghoon has spent months preparing his Nationals skate, meticulously changing and adapting every detail to make sure it was perfect. You’ve watched him over the weeks and it’s nothing like how it is right now.

But not in the breathtaking way Minhee was, there was something wrong.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow and as it’s coming up to his quad jumps, he skips them. Now you can confirm something is drastically wrong, nevertheless, he continues on, preparing for his flying camel spin. Whatever is going on, he’s doing his best to brush it off.

“What is wrong with him?” you whisper to yourself but your mother overhears it, smirking at you. 

“He’s thrown off by your brother, I imagine,” she says so casually but as you look at her, there’s a glint in her eye.

Just as Sunghoon completes the spin with a slight wobble, Coach Lee encourages him to keep going despite the apparent struggle. Determined, Sunghoon presses on, transitioning into a forward glide as he prepares for the upcoming triple loop. It's in that moment that everything seems to crumble beneath you.

As Sunghoon launches into his jump from his back foot, smoothly completing the rotations in mid-air, however, the performance takes a sudden turn upon landing – a moment of unease grips everyone watching, you included, as his ankle unexpectedly snaps at a 90-degree angle. The consequence is immediate and stark, leading to his descent to the ground. The hushed gasps of the onlookers echo at the sight of his body skimming across the ice. In the aftermath, Sunghoon holds his injured ankle, his face contorted in pain as he tries to move it.

He's badly hurt, unable to move from his spot on the ice, and the circumstances turn what should have been a flawless routine into an unexpected nightmare.

"Hoonie!" you yell, your heart pounding as you rush to the edge of the rink to assess the situation. Sunghoon is writhing in pain, tears pooling in his eyes, and you notice the blade of his skate has come off his boot - It must have come off when he landed. 

You need to be next to him, but before you can check on your lover, Minhee is quick on your heels, dragging you back. "Let me go," you're no longer concerned about how it will look if you go to check on Sunghoon; all you can think about is if he's okay. 

Minhee doesn’t listen, his grip tightening as he pulls you away. You struggle against him, feeling utterly helpless as you watch the commotion around Sunghoon unfold. Coach Kim, Mrs. Park, and others gather around him, their urgent actions heightening your anxiety. But Minhee is determined to remove you from the scene, forcefully guiding you through the doors and out of the arena.

Once in the car park, he releases you with a frustrated exclamation, his agitation evident in his gestures as he runs his hands through his hair. His eyes betray a storm of emotions, leaving you unsettled and desperate for answers.

“Minhee, what’s happening? We have to go back!” you insist, your voice tinged with desperation.

“We can’t, okay? Let’s just go home,” he responds, his tone strained, his features drawn with tension.

Sensing something amiss, you step closer to him, your heart racing with concern. “Minhee, please, tell me what’s going on. None of this makes sense,” you implore, your hands reaching out to him.

“It’s nothing, alright!” he snaps, his words too forceful to be convincing. “His skate broke, that’s all. I didn’t do anything,” he adds, his denial ringing hollow.

The straightforward solution would be for him to share what's going on, but the way he's shutting down makes it clear that direct communication is off the table. Your mind races back to the kitchen, recalling your mom's directive to Minhee to 'get it done.' Then, at the rink, she warned him not to fuck up. It dawns on you that this is more than just about the routine; something else has transpired. Yet, the connection between Minhee and a botched landing seems implausible. Skaters experience falls regularly; it's just a part of the sport. 

Unless he psyched him out but you were with each of them at different times and the only time they interacted was before Sunghoon went to get his skates from the changing room. Minhee acted super strange when Sunghoon asked to pass him like he was nervous about letting him in- 

Sunghoon’s skate…No, surely not. 

You take a cautious step back, your expression one of bewilderment. What you’re thinking couldn’t possibly have happened, your brother wouldn’t stoop so low, “Mini? You didn’t…”

"You're a liar." Minhee abruptly deters the conversation, leaving you much more puzzled than before. Tilting your head, you give him a sceptical look, but he only offers you a harsh stare, “Oh Mini, I would never do that, wasn’t that what you told me? You said that, didn’t you?” 

Okay, you've officially reached the top of your perplexity. What is he on about? “I don’t know what you mean?” you utter, awaiting any form of clarity. 

A visual cloud storms over his head, symbolic of his tone as he spits, “You’re dating Park fucking Sunghoon.”

How did he find out?

The weight of Minhee's accusation hangs in the air as you come to terms with the fact that your hidden relationship with his rival is now openly known. Your mind races, wondering who could have told him. To be honest, it could have been anyone at that point; you weren't being very secretive, merely keeping it low-key around those who knew Minhee. That was your first mistake, clearly.

The forced laugh that leaves his mouth is venomous, “You really ought to be more careful with your lies, Sis.” Retrieving his phone from his trouser pocket, he flicks through it until he finds something. As if viewing it for the first time, he gets angry again, shoving the device in your face, “You sent me it with the others.”

You’re faced with a picture, and not just any picture, the one of Sunghoon kissing your cheek at the award ceremony. The frozen moment captured in time reveals more than words ever could. Your heart sinks as the reality of your indiscretion stares back at you from the screen. The once-precious memory now serves as evidence. The tension in the air increases as you deal with the impact of your secret finally coming to light.

How could you be so stupid? You were so careful around him, always triple-checking everything and now it’s all up in flames.

“Mini-”

“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. Tell me you haven’t been seeing him since that night you got out of his car? That this started way after and you haven’t been with him for like 4 months?” his resolve has turned from one of anger to despair, desperate for you to tell him his suspicions are wrong.

But deception wasn't an option; lying to him now would only add more layers to an already tangled web. It was too complicated to tell him how you stayed away for a week, and how Sunghoon came to your rescue the night of Yeonjun’s party, and it was certainly not the right time to tell him how Sunghoon brought you back to life with his kisses and how he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Revealing the true depth of your connection with Sunghoon would undoubtedly trigger Minhee, unleashing a storm far beyond fits of anger, something he couldn’t come back from.

The silence gave Minhee his answer, his face falling from anger to disappointment, “I fucking knew it.”

This is what you wanted to avoid the whole time, the reason you kept Sunghoon a secret in the first place. 

If he knew, he would do something rash like…

“Did you mess with Sunghoon’s skate? Did you do this because I’ve been seeing him?” It all starts to click into place but Minhee quickly shuts you down.

“It wasn’t that Y/N.” He dismisses.

“So it was you? You caused that? Minhee what the fuck?!” you shriek at his twisted confession. 

The revelation sends a shiver down your spine as your emotions mix with disbelief and confusion. This wasn’t the brother you knew, the one you grew up with and held so dear to you. 

The air thickens with unspoken words as Minhee rattles his brain for an explanation. His eyes portray the evident guilt he feels, a turbulent storm in the depths of his gaze. Any anger now dissipates with the wind as it blows cold on his face. His voice, when he finally speaks, carries the weight of regret, “Look, Y/N, it’s complicated; you have no idea what’s going on.”

“Then help me understand because right now it seems like you just tried to hurt Sunghoon because he's my boyfriend." The chill in your words reflects the icy breeze. The atmosphere is thick with tension, like a heavy curtain waiting to be dragged back to reveal the truth behind Minhee's aberrant actions.

Minhee’s anger washes his body again, muttering the word ‘boyfriend’ in disbelief before he speaks up, “The less you know the better, okay? Stay out of it.” With a swift turn, he attempts to walk away, yet his mind is unwilling to let the matter of you and Sunghoon rest. "Y’know, when you sent that picture, I was so angry I could have killed him, but as the weeks passed I was just so fucking disappointed you didn’t have the balls to tell me." 

This whole situation is so fucked up and there is nothing you can do to place everything in a perfect timeline that will help you understand his actions because he’s keeping something detrimental from you. If it wasn’t because Sunghoon and you are together, then what could it possibly be? If it was because he wanted to be at Nationals, it wasn’t Sunghoon standing in his way so it couldn’t be that. 

Before you can dwell on the situation further, your mum strides over, balancing both your belongings. "Will you two stop acting like children and fighting? You're not 5 anymore." She thrusts your jacket and bag into your arms and does the same with Minhee. "Get in the car."

“Mum, is he okay?” It’s a hopeful, albeit hesitant, question directed at your Park-hating mother. You know it's a long shot, but you chance it.

"He'll live. I doubt he'll make it to Nationals, though." She smirks, her reply tinged with dark humour that adds an unexpected dimension of tension. The revelation regarding Sunghoon's injury, delivered with that sneering twist, leaves you with a mix of anxiety for your boyfriend. 

She had something to do with this, that’s obvious. You just had to find out how and why.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen angst #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #aj writes #melting point

[heavenbled]

@aestuavis // i saw you in a dream, it's been so long. my darling how you still shine.

his time in paldea has been nothing short of mesmerizing, breathtaking, cathartic — dare he say metamorphic. the crystals and the life has breathed a new soul into him it felt like, the weights lifting off of his heavy shoulders so much it felt like he had been born anew. but even with all the wonder and excitement and discovery, hoenn still seemed to call his name ; he knew he had left business unfinished for far too long. there were faces he yearned so intensely to see, so many words left unspoken he wished to scream to the heavens.

so many faces he owes so many apologies to. so many faces that he hasn't seen in so long it feels like a burned memory beginning to fade to greyscale. steven hated that feeling, and the guilt that subsequently came after, he hated all the more. so many faces, and yet of all of them to run into after all this time, she was one of the two that would truly rattle him to his core if caught unprepared.

and unprepared he was, indeed.

" ah — " was all he could muster up in all the short-circuiting his brain was caught up in. ( how becoming. )

did she even see him in this sleepy city of mossdeep? here, on the blue pattern cobbled streets and in the salty air? ( distantly, he hoped that if he continued to freeze in place like this, she would be unable to detect him. intelligence was something he prided himself on. )

#muse: steven stone #aestuavis #ABSOLUTELY quaking rn #gonna be quoting that tweet UnFollow Me Right Now This Is Gonna Be The Only Thing I Tweet About

[ungaroyals]

hey bestie! i couldn't think of a missing moment to request, but if you can, could you please write your version of the scene where they meet each other for the first time after christmas break? p.s. i really loved your writing style and honestly think that yours are the best young royals fanfics i've found so far :))

Hope this does the trick my lovely 💙

It'll all work out.

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 1372

Read on ao3

Wilhelm's fingers tap nervously against the itchy material of his Hillerska uniform. His stomach swirls with nerves as he sits on the chapel benches, definitely not designed for comfort.

It's been nearly two weeks since he's seen Simon or spoken to him. Not even a single text exchanged between them. Wilhelm considered reaching out to wish Simon a happy Christmas, but he didn't want to push. Everything between them still seems so delicate. The last conversation they had, was the last time they laid eyes on each other. It was intense, to say the least.

Wilhelm winces internally, trying not to let his mind linger that day. He tries not to think about the ache in his chest that grew with the distance put between them. All Wilhelm wanted was to turn back, grab Simon, and kiss him. To say screw it, and let himself be happy. Think for himself and put Simon first. But he couldn't– or at least he thought he couldn't. Now, Wilhelm isn't so sure.

Christmas at the palace had been strange. There had been a definite void eating at his family. Something missing that nobody could replace. His mother and father barely acknowledged it despite the weight his absence carried. The echo of Erik was prominent in all their traditions, within the family, and in the public eye. The joy he brought never came, and the tension he eased remained. Wilhelm never wants to spend a Christmas like that again. Not if his brother isn't there to share it.

It was difficult, to say the least. More so with, as Wilhelm's mother would say, the unfortunate attention Wilhelm has attracted. As if he was at fault for putting an increasingly noticeable spotlight on their family compared to previous holidays.

Wilhelm shuffles in his seat, bumping arms with Henry, who doesn't notice, too busy talking to someone else. Ahead of Wilhelm, his eyes bury into the back of August's skull. Bile rising in his throat at the mere fact August gets to be here. Finding a deep loathing within himself, hating that August hasn't stopped trying to repair their friendship. Pretending that there's not a rift between them. Like August didn't completely ruin Wilhelm's life or his chances of authentic happiness.

August must sense Wilhelm's eyes building a crater in the back of his head because he shifts, turning around to glance at Wilhelm, his face painted with sympathy. Wilhelm glares, revelling in August's disappointed frown as he turns to face forward.

A hush blankets the room, and students settle in their seats. There's a shuffle of polished shoes leading to the front of the chapel, and Wilhelm feels his heart lodge into his throat. His eyes scan the choir, gasping a silent breathe when he spots the boy he's been looking for.

Simon's hair is shorter, his curls less prominent, almost like waves washed through the sand. There's a pinch in Wilhelm's chest at the change, remembering what it felt like to feel Simon's hair between his fingers, how surprisingly soft his curls were and how they smelled like coconut.

Their eyes connect, and Wilhelm holds his breath. Simon stutters on the lyrics then focuses back on anything but Wilhelm, though it doesn't last. Their eyes are glued to each other, being pulled together with a rope that neither boy can explain. Excited but terrified. Longing but cautious.

Wilhelm wants to say that Simon meets his small smile with the same hopefulness, but he can't. He can't because why would Simon be thrilled to see the boy who threw away their relationship like it was nothing. When really, it was everything.

Simon's eyes jump away like he's desperate to keep himself at a distance. It destroys Wilhelm inside, but what hurts more is the beauty in how Simon sings. Wilhelm didn't realize how much he missed the way it echoes deep inside him. Pulling feelings from Wilhelm that seem much too mature for someone his age. A type of yearning he didn't know was there before.

As he listens, he becomes captivated by the passion radiating from Simon, the pressure in Wilhelm's chest somehow tightening and loosening simultaneously. Pulling Wilhelm in two different directions. One says, 'you missed out and lost your chance,' and another says, 'it's never too late.'

Then it's over. Wilhelm is brought back to reality. Back from the hopeful place he often gets lost in. Imagining all the ways things could have gone differently. He's brought back to the chapel, back to reality, back to what he lost.

The rest of the assembly draws on, and all Wilhelm can concentrate on is two rows up where the choir sits. Wilhelm's eyes never stray from the boy as the headmistress makes her speech. When she's finished, Wilhelm stands with his peers, trying to keep Simon in view. But he gets lost amongst the reunions around them. Wilhelm is ushered outside by Henry, and they stop to catch up with friends. Wilhelm is silent until he spots Felice from across the path. Familiarity blooms in his chest as she waves him over, and Wilhelm rushes to her.

"Hi Wille," she smiles genuinely, pulling him in for a hug. He returns it with enthusiasm, letting himself find comfort in their friendship.

"Hi Felice, how was your–" Wilhelm stops, voice faltering mid-sentence, chest hammering. He spots Simon and his sister headed in their direction. Sara waving at Felice. Wilhelm goes pale, and his throat dries in the cold winter air.

"Have you spoken to him yet," Felice asks, sympathy clear in her voice as her eyes bounce between the boys.

"No," Wilhelm mumbles, head down as Simon and Sara get closer, Sara more enthusiastic as she bounces over, smiling at Felice.

"Sara!" Felice exclaims, wrapping her arms around the girl, rocking back and forth while holding each other close with giant grins. They become wholly enveloped by their conversation like it's been years since they've seen each other, not weeks.

Wilhelm and Simon stand a distance away, tension building the longer they stand in silence. Wilhelm is desperate to meet Simon's eyes, but Simon seems to want nothing more than to avoid it. He's pulled his jacket sleeves over his hands, making him look even smaller in his puffy jacket. It's adorable.

"Your– your hair?" Wilhelm stutters, cheeks growing pink.

"Yes?" Simon asks, finally looking up.

"It uh– looks good," Wilhelm mumbles, stomach knotting at how absolutely pathetic he probably sounds.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm. He can do this. If he can't be with Simon romantically, then they can at least be friends, right? Some sort of civil with each other?

Wilhelm swallows, hopeful he hasn't ruined everything already, "Hi," He tries again. A little smiling dancing on his lips as he brushes a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face the best he can.

Simon finally really looks at Wilhelm, and he's met with almost an amused smirk from the boy. "Hi," Simon quietly offers, which is more than Wilhelm expected.

Feeling slightly encouraged, "how was your Christmas?" Wilhelm winces, his mind bouncing back to their last conversation.

"Good," Simon's mind must go to the same place because his smirk falters, and he looks to his feet, kicking at the gravel.

Wilhelm hates that this is what they've become. From being desperate for every inch of each other to practically strangers, exchanging no more than one-word sentences.

"Good," Wilhelm agrees, and it hurts.

Simon's eyes flicker past Wilhelm, "Mamá is here, Sara," he turns to inform his sister, tapping lightly on her shoulder. She swiftly says goodbye to Felice, both girls acting like it's the end of the world. Sara offers Wilhelm a wave before they turn to leave.

In return, Wilhelm smiles back, whispering a small, "bye Simon," after them. Wilhelm nearly misses it, but Simon looks back at him. Something flickers behind his eyes that Wilhelm can't quite place.

Felice rests her head on Wilhelm's shoulder, wrapping her hand under Wilhelm's arm, hugging him close. It eases some of the tension in Wilhelm's chest, but not nearly enough.

"It'll all work out," she reassures, nudging her head into his shoulder more.

Wilhelm hopes she's right.

#young royals #yr #wilmon #wilhelm yr #simon yr #prince wilhelm #wilhelm x simon #simon x wilhelm #simon eriksson #young royals netflix #yr fanfic #young royals fanfic #wilmon fanfic #yr missing moments #young royals missing moments

[rocketmuse]

I thought I'd share my playlist for the anniversary of the boathouse kiss. :)

Song translations, MANY thoughts, and timeline under the break.

Noise warning for song 19, Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 4:23 to the end. Loud high pitched beeps.

YouTube music version to be made soon.

Translations for foreign songs:

Ewan [Dunno] — Apo Hiking Society — Filipino/Tagalog

Amour plastique [Plastic love] — Videoclub — French

Panalangin [Prayer] — Apo Hiking Society/Moonstar88 — Filipino/Tagalog

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita [I'm Looking For You] — Rivermaya — Filipino/Tagalog

This is a collaborative playlist made with my friend.

Thought Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy would be a good starter song. Something about the music. Represents a good start of Alec persuing Maurice, like, hey, I can be yours... Whatcha doin'?

I added Puppy Princess because of the chorus but I know some people don't like that song so... You can skip if you'd like. KISS MEEEEE KIISS ME WITH YIIR EYESSS CLOSED . ALL I WANT IS YOU YEAH YOU. TELL ME I'M NOT FUNNY TELL ME I'M LEGIIIIT

Ewan. OH MY GOD this song is so them. Alec cares for Maurice, and doesn't like not being taken seriously or being treated badly and brushed off.

"I don't know why you're like that, you're difficult to talk to and you're a snob" COME ON IS THAT NOT THEM — Just a smile from you, and I'll be in heaven. Please give me a response, anything but "No idea"... What a perfect representation of Alec's continuous persuit of Maurice, always talking, always trying...

I could go on with every lyric.

Edit: I just realised this song fits so well for Alec's letters and meeting at the museum. Must resist the urge to add the same exact track twice.

So about Touch Me... Some of the lyrics apply better in other versions. Spotify just has this version tho. Touch me, just like that.

All I've Ever Known. Maurice discovered so much that night about touch and sharing and being with someone. He wants to be with Alec. "All I've ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you too. [Hold you close, I don't wanna ever have to let you go. Hold you tight, I don't wanna to back to the lonely life.]" Alec opened up his eyes and he'll never be the same.

Can't Help Falling in Love With You. 'Did you ever dream you'd a friend, Alec? ... Someone to last your whole life...' 'Alec, you're a dear fellow and we've been very happy.'

I'd Like To Walk Around In Your Mind was added from Maurice's perspective. Perhaps it fits Alec too...

I think Love At First Sight has the double meaning of the literal title, as well as "wouldn't you like to kiss her" perhaps being... Something Maurice would hear.

I Don't Dance. Based on this post/edit. Please watch this video oh my God.

Pink in the Night. Alec yearns for Maurice in the boathouse. He hasn't come. He hears his heart breaking tonight.

Every lyric is perhaps pulled straight from Alec's brain, to be honest. I remember seeing a post with this song in other contexts with them too. So yes, a few meanings.

Amour plastique. Alec reminiscences on the night in the Russet room. Why hasn't he come?

In my mind, everything goes wild. I lose myself in your eyes. I drown myself in the vagueness of your loving gaze.

And at night I cry tears that stream down my cheeks. I think of you only when the days ends, only when my sad demons descend upon my mind, into the bottomless abyss.

Waiting in the boathouse at night, when the day ends.

I ring out in kisses all down your chest. Lost in the avalanche of my heart astray. Who are you? Where are you?

The moments of then repeat in his mind. Where is Maurice?

I suppose Hopelessly Devoted To You and I'm A Fool To Want You are self explanatory. Maurice should really come... Alec really toughed it out, 2 days he spent in the boathouse, really wanted to see Maurice, really knew they had something, and doesn't want to be treated like a dog. Generally, his 1st letter.

Moon Song. My friend said they added it as a general love song. — Why do you treat me like this? Why didn't you come to the boathouse? — Alec's 2nd letter as a whole. Plus bits of 1st.

And you pushed me in, and now my feet can't touch the bottom of you. ... So I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.

Ewan would fit here tbh.

Panalangin. My only prayer in this lifetime: to be beside you, to be together with you, that's my prayer.

"I since cricket match do long to ... place both arms round you and share with you, the above now seems sweeter than words can say."

And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me, my love, please listen.

It also fits the end of museum.

I Want You. Maurice, can you come to the boathouse already? Alec has no power to teleport you there. I hold one card that I can't use.

I found you. I found the door, but when I stepped through, there was no floor. He found Maurice, bit he's not being here for Alec.

You're coming back And it's the end of the world We're starting over And I love you, darling And I am done, dear

Alec wishes this would happen. Also, he does come back later and they love again over, and "it is finished".

Credit for suggesting the next two songs goes to @beatle-capaldi!!! He also wrote was in quotations!

English Summer Rain

The Most Radical Thing To Do

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 1st letter, he's looking for Maurice. Thinking about them together.

In my thoughts and dreams, in every turn of destiny, I look for you. Also applies to that hotel/post-hotel feeling. I look for you, even if I try to forget you, saying goodbye, looking back...

Wildest Dreams. They think a lot of each other. They share once more. But they must say goodbye. Alec saw this coming. Maurice hopes that Alec will remember him like this.

I Hear a Symphony. Alec truly opened up Maurice's eyes. Maurice was meant to be with him. He helped Maurice, changed his life. But now Alec is leaving on ship... Or is he? The symphony leads into...

An orchestral sountrack. The Boathouse. Unfortunately the Maurice soundtrack is not on spotify. It's on my personal YouTube music version. I added it because it just captures the boathouse the only way the sountrack itself can.

The Word of Your Body (Reprise). MLM people have moment of romantic tension, which culminates in confessions of love. Just had to add it. "Haven't you heard the word of your body?" perfectly describes Alec gifting and showing Maurice the wonder of truest physical affection and love. He lets Maurice be okay with himself, and again, changes everything. Every lyric is perfect.

Also, sorry JBW, I like other versions more... Too bad Spotify is mean.

I See The Light. Yeah. Every lyric. Maurice is Rapunzel. Movie Blond too. Both the morning at Russet room and the museum. And the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything is different, now that I see you. "By now they were in love with each other consciously."...

Suddenly Seymour. Suddenly see more, yeah? Clive = ass and someone gives him affection for once, wow! Sidenote, I want to sing this with them and their accents... Suddenly SCUDDER...

Helpless. Musical theatre songs seem to be good retellings of their love story. It's why they belong in post boathouse. Summaries and retellings. They're also good at conveying love they'd feel for each other in general, all times ever. Like loving men, retelling a story.

I'll Cover You. Cute love song feat. gays. I like to imagine them dancing around, declaring their love and devotion for each other. Walking and dancing around like in the original scene, sometime post canon. In my own imagination, I thought of Alec as Angel and Maurice (Christopher) as Collins.

Video Games. They must love spending time together. I thought this to be Maurice POV. Only worth living if somebody is loving you I mean, come on.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you.

Un sospiro. I headcanon that Maurice picks up the piano and plays for Alec. Perhaps he picked it up bc of/after Clive, but now can play it for someone who gives a shit.

Something about the melody reminds me of them. And then it gets more intense... A bit like the passions of love, showing up in sharing and touch and more, too.

Liebestraum. I mean, it means love dream/dream of love. I just had to. Also I just like Liszt.

Take Me Up With You, Dearie. This song is just so sweet... So soft... Edwardian to boot... I love how quintessentially 1909 it is. Discovered it in a YT video. The thought of them getting married makes me cry. This song in general makes me want to cry, it's so romantic, tender, and exudes my favourite era...

Let us float, float, float through the clouds, and just have a lot of fun. We'll go up, up, up as two and then come down as one.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder. We Belong Together. I always imagine Maurice and Alec slowdancing to songs that come on the radio together, when the 1950s hits... Alec probably rests his head on his shoulder as this plays and they dance...

I'm using a lot of ellipses, am I secretly Rupert Graves?

Welcome to the 70s and 80s. They love dancing together and being with each other. Now, Panalangin can be a happy song. My only prayer for this lifetime ... To be together with you. And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me.

Just the Two of Us. What a nice, vibey song. Great title, great scenario of them dancing to this...

Tiny Dancer. Your Song. MLM people in the 70s + Radio, being happy and in love with each other. — I just thought I should add some Elton. A different friend, and I, like him. Maurice sings to Alec, "And you can tell everybody this is your song." That I put down in words how wonderful life is with you in the world.

Electric Love. Fun fact: this song got me to share the playlist. Got me thinking about them and their anniversary again. The funky busy instrumental describes well their passionate love. The highs of electric LOOOOOOVE describe the intensity of them.

Alt text continued: themselves together under and the love. And the love. The song has its own tension and it perfectly pictures their own tension. So yeah, this is THEIR song quite literally.

Sorry if my music taste is perhaps basic. I just made it for when I hear songs that are Them.

Falling for Ya. Alec falls for Maurice. "I saw you when you first drove up, Mr Hall..." Something about Maurice, right? Plus really nice vintage vibes with the music. The bit about Into your arms and it's a secure sure sounds like Maurice. Awh, they're falling for *each other*...

Rainbow Connections. Gay and bi people. Marriage. Everything that Maurice and Alec went through to get here, where they were meant to be. Clive. Working for Clive. Leading up to now.

All the things that had to go right, all the things that had to go wrong, that lead us to the place where we were going all along.

On the YT version there's a soft/jazzy cover of Panalangin here. Because they're old and spending time together and being happy. What a throwback, a defined meaning in their lives over time.

Still Into You. After all these decades... Old and grown, together... True soulmates... Two men can defy the world... Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood. Imagine Maurice meeting Alec's mom in this context. If only.

Postmodern Jukebox cover, because they are a quintessentially 20th century couple. They exude vintage.

Some piano playing for Alec. Soft, tender, romantic, emotional, true. Feels like nighttime. Feels like Maurice and Alec. And a throwback to the pre 1914 world as well. Claire de Lune feels like... A credits of life piece. Time spent in the early 1980s. Nocturne feels like that too, but more romantic. Smidge less nighttime. Ah yes, Gymnopédies. The truest credits feel of them all. None of these actually are credits for Maurice and Alec, but I struggle to find the word for this feeling. But yeah. These all have Them vibes to me. Piano of the time just does I suppose. Glad to be reminded of them at any time.

What a long playlist. Like going through almost their whole lives together. 1:52 hrs. Almost like a movie. Imagine that. A full movie of THEIR lives... But leaving to the imagination was a good thing. Led to this such action. Thank you E.M. Forster.

Timeline:

1. Pendersleigh

4. & 5. Russet Room. Night, then Morning

9. Cricket

10. Boathouse Nights

18. The Museum

20. The Hotel

21. After

23. The Boathouse

24. They Still Roam the Greenwood

I just like to imagine them dancing to songs on the radio, for decades to come...

#maurice 1987 #maurice 1914 #maurice #maurice hall #alec scudder #Spotify

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me. 

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

*

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.

#tom holland #London lights fic #Tom Holland one shot #tom holland fiction #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland x reader

[sporadiclilbook]

Songbird

Yan!Childe x Singer/Dancer!Khaenri'ahn! reader

Proof-read by: @choquackette

a/n: in a way, does this count as a songfic :D? Also I'm gonna use Lost in Thoughts All Alone for this. And to be fair you're pretty much like Shigure/Azura from fates in this

TW: Kidnapping

You are the ocean's gray waves

Destined to seek life beyond the shore

Just out reach

Your voice rang out through the crowd who was listening. Your Hydro Vision glowed as you made particles of water float around you. It created an illusion that made them looked like it was sparkling. It was mesmerising. To Childe, it amazed him how you used it so beautifully for a show. Unlike his more....bloodthirsty uses of his. To think a Vision can do something so graceful and morbid at the same time.

Of course he had his Electro Delusion but this is the Vision we're talking about. He uses it as a weapon while you used it for entertainment. To be honest, he never thought he'd see something like this. It was all thanks to a mission he has to do. Tailing a guy who was in debt to the Fatui and all. Childe think he was a fool. Instead of trying to make his business better, he wastes it on shows like these. But now that he sees you, he understand why. Your exotic appearance was a sight to behold. The only known person to have the same eyes as you was that Favonius Cavalry Captain and he only showed one eye. One already can make one look intriguing but having both made you look ethereal.

Yet the water ever change

Flowing like time

The path is yours to climb

Your dance was graceful, fluid movements that did flow like water. Childe think you could've been a good sword fighter if you were able to incorporate these movements into sword fighting. But for now he'll enjoy your voice and dancing. There's just something about it he loved so much. Sure fighting is always the one he loves but there's just something about you that he's attracted to. Was it your appearance? Vocals? Movements? Or those pupils of yours? He thinks it's quite silly, he doesn't even know who you are and yet......

A burdened heart

Sinks into the ground

Here he is, eager to look for you after this whole mission thing. If there's one thing he knows, is to not judge someone's prowess by appearance. Take the traveler for example. They have a petite form and yet they were able to defeat his Foul Legacy form! Who knows what you might have in store for him? Just the thought of you actually being able to fight makes him feel giddy.

Alas, all he can do for now is listen to your song. With that said, he didn't forget his mission. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his target. The man was also in awe of looking at you. Too in awe of noticing his presence that is. He'll get right back to him when your show's over.

A veil falls away without a sound

Not day nor night

Wrong nor right

For truth and peace, you'll fight

He wondered if his siblings would love your singing. Sleeping to a lullaby sounded like a nice idea to him. Why he even thought of that was a mystery to him. Is this what they called love at first sight? He just can't help but wished to woken up by your voice that will roll out his name softly in the morning.

Sing with me a song

Of silence and blood

The rain falls, but can't wash away the mud

Within my ancient heart dwells

Madness and pride

Can't no one hear my cry?

The song ended and the crowd threw a round applause. You bowed and left the stage immediately. Childe, who hasn't forgot his mission, quickly trailed the guy he was after outsidd. "Ah! Hello there Mr. Wei Xing! I reckon you know who I am yes?" And so from there, he scared the poor man to the death with threats and grim reminder of the debt he owed. But Childe was feeling a bit merciful today "Tell you what I'll give you some more time on one condition." Wei Xing, his target, was confused. The Fatui giving a bit of leverage? Still, he would be an idiot to refuse "And that condition is....?"

Childe chuckled at his quick response. It's natural after all. All of his intimidation must have triggered his survival instincts. "Just answer me this. Who was that singer with a Hydro Vision?" Wei Xing was baffled. That's all he wanted? "A-as far as I know, t-their name is (Y/N). They're a performer that was passing by Liyue to gain more popularity across Teyvat." Childe hummed as he hears it. 'A travelling performer huh? Looks like I'll have to act quick if I want to meet them' There was moment of silence before he asked another question "When are they leaving?" "I-in a few days"

Childe let him go and as promised gave him more time for him to pay his debt. Should he fails again to do so.....he'll be history. He only had a few days to meet and talk to you so he has to be quick. Thankfully being a Fatui Harbinger does have it perks. One of those perks being having informants that can collect informations for you. And since this is no top secret info, it was quite easy to find out where you were staying and exactly how many days before you were gone.

As he wait for you at the road that led guests from Wangshu Inn to Liyue, he thought of what you might say. Maybe you'll recognise him right away? Or perhaps you were too innocent to notice the horrors of the Fatui. As he notices your figure walking on the horizon, he prepared to greet you casually. But then he was perplexed by your outfit. It seemed less travelling performer and more of a......fighter? Interesting. He drops the idea of greeting you and opted to follow your path instead.

He followed you until you reached a domain that was near one of the ruins. You stood in front of the entrance as he awaits your next move, intentionally letting his presence seep out. "You're not doing that much of a great job to hide yourself, Fatui. Or is it intentional?" Childe walks out from the spot he was hiding in and approached you slowly while saying "Well, isn't this a surprise? I just happened to be passing b-" His actions stopped midway as your pointed a spear at him. "Not a step closer, what do you want?"

Your starred pupils were sharped and narrowed. It held an intense emotion in it. Childe held up his hands in some sort of mock surrender and laughed a bit "Hey now! There's no need to get aggressive, is there? I was just curious why someone like you is doing here. Not exactly a good place to perform isn't it?"

"That's none of your business."

"Are you gonna go inside this domain?"

"...."

"If so, can I follow?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no."

"I'm very good at fighting you know. It'll be a shame if someone like you gets inju--"

Your spear was closer to him now. Threatening to slice him open any minute you wanted to. It didn't faze him at all. In fact it made him thrilled. He knew there was something about you that was enchanting and perhaps this was it. An unrelenting fighting spirit. In a blink of an eye, he immediately summoned his hydro javelin and parried your spear. You backed away in surprise but kept your guard up.

"Listen I have no time for you Fatui. Leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to." Childe just gave a fox-like grin at your attempt to intimidate him. "Is that so? Like what exactly?" You rolled your eyes at him. He was getting annoying for sure. "Like I said, none of your business." It looks like you might have to halt your plans for tonight. The Abyss Order can wait. "So, what are you gonna do little star?" Without warning you immediately engulfed yourself in a torrent of water and disappears. Childe was shocked when he sees it but still grinned. If you wanted to be a challenge then so be it. If he can't bother you during your 'missions' then he'll bother you during the day.

And that is exactly what he did.

For two days straight he kept trying to talk with you whenever you were out visiting the Liyue Harbour. At first you tolerated him but now he was insufferable. You were glad you were leaving as soon as possible next day but Childe was not having any of that. In just the span of two days his little curiosity had turned into a tsunami of obsession. Your expressions and reactions not to mention the little heart warming moments he saw you cheering up some of the kids in Liyue. He wants to know even more of you.

And precisely why he is fighting you right now.

As he has deducted, your move was as graceful as your dance. Your fighting style was as unique as your eyes. Something he has never seen before. You dodged his flurry of arrows, panting while doing so. How long has he fought you? It felt like an eternity. You tried to dash to him and deliver a swift strike but him and his stupid shield won't let you. You jumped back just in time before he strike his hydro swords at you. You can't even get an elemental advantage here, you had to mostly rely on your weapon.

"Well (Y/N), it's been a fun fight really. But why don't you surrender now? You're tired aren't you? I promise things will go smoothly if you just give up."

You didn't want to. There's no way you'll give up. What does he wants with you anyway? You only stared down at him in silence, refusing to answer. "Ah, stubborn now aren't we? I guess I'll have to use a little force...." He activated his Delusion and immediately dashed towards you, giving you no time to react. The electricity made you groan in pain. You use your spear as a stabiliser from falling to the ground but you were running out of energy at this point.

Before you could fall, Childe took a hold of your body. "See? It's not that hard to give up." You wanted to mutter a remark but darkness shrouded your vision before you fainted. You woke up in an unfamiliar room. Certainly not Liyue's architecture nor your homeland's. Your first thought was to look for an escape.

The door was locked.

Windows were barred.

The wardrobe had the clothes you brought with you across Teyvat along with some new ones.

There was a chain at your leg that's long enough to get you to the bathroom.

Your Vision and weapon was missing.

You waited in silence, pondering what to do. You certainly can't escape like this. But then you heard the door open. And as expected it was him. "Did you had a good sleep? You were knocked out for a while there." You scowled at him "Drop the act, where am I?" Childe hummed before answering "You're in Snezhnaya of course! Where else would I bring you? I'm quite lucky to be able to bring you here and visit my siblings! Say would you like to visi--" "Why would I do that?"

His grin dropped and his eyes stared at you. His eyes was....hollow...empty...devoid of any humanity in them. He walked towards you and you instinctively stepped back. He had you trapped against a wall. He lifted up your chin and let out a small but terrifying smile "Well, because your fate is in my hands. There's nothing you can do now, is there? But I'll forgive your behaviour for now.....if you sing that is."

You hated it. You hated the fact he was right. So you had no choice but to stay obedient and be his 'little songbird' until you found a window of opportunity. He lets go of your chin and sat down on a chair. With a heavy heart, you opened your mouth to sing.

You are the ocean's gray waves

Destined to seek life beyond the shore

Just out of reach

Childe smiled as you sing. He's sure you'll come around and fall in love with him soon enough.

Yet the water ever change

Flowing like time

The path is yours to climb

Shame that you can't meet his family yet. They would've love you. He can't wait for that day to arrive though. He can't help but feel joy. His little songbird, all his and no one else.

You are the ocean's gray waves.

#sporadicpage #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere x reader #tw: kidnapping

[ignisnocturnalia]

I think I've figured out how I want to write these (Exposition/mini story, when relationship is established HCs actually start) based on a previous statement I made, also ANOTHER REQUEST! All headcanons are placed at the back of the story part. Let's get this ball rolling!

Crow x Reader

"Now, if he ever flies too far from the nest?" Spider leans forward, "Boom." Your stomach made a flip at the kingpin's explanation, and you've never been more uncomfortable to have your Ghost out in the open. Some part of your mind is saying 'Who cares? That's the man that killed Cayde', but another half is saying 'He has no idea. It isn't fair to judge him for something he can't remember'.

That meeting had happened an hour ago and you couldn't get his dumb gray face out of your head. He looked so.. sad. Regardless, having a Ghost rigged with explosives did not sit right with you at all. Spider wanted you to help him with his Wrathborn problem? Sure, alright. When all of this was over, you knew exactly what you wanted your payment to be.

One large change about the new light that you've found impossible to ignore is diminutive he is. His commentary after successful hunts and small chats after a lure upgrade is administered are curt. Even more surprising is his willingness to present mercy to the corrupted Fallen. He is nothing like Uldren.

Acknowledging this division between his past and present self is when you start to realize that you like working with him. A lot. Probably more than just work, but will you admit it? No. Besides, you tell yourself, he really doesn't look like he's searching for a relationship while figuring himself out.

Petra often asks why you've taken to visiting the Tangled Shore so frequently now, and everytime you scramble to spit out an answer, something stupid like "Spider has a good deal running right now". In some part, it's true, since when you're not hunting Wrathborn you're showing Crow how to do Guardian stuff and explaining Last City life to him. His calm and curious demeanor is extremely cute, and the velvet sound of his voice does not help.

When Spider has both of you run point on a mission you always look to the rafters of the building to try and see him or listen for his steps. He's annoyingly good at stealth. The only time you ever had to be stealthy was in the Gorgon's lair and the Pleasure Gardens. You wish you could speak to him unfiltered; if Spider ever discovered your crush he wouldn't let you hear or see the end of it.

As the months dragged on and you came closer to catching the High Celebrant, you caught yourself anxiously wondering what lie at the end of it all. What if Spider didn't let you take him? And if he did, would Crow stay with you or do his own thing? Greedy little thoughts ran through your head as you thought of all the times you shared together, both of you visibly happy in your eyes.

As much as you'd like to live a runaway life with him and hope he felt the same, you knew it was wrong. He'd get restless, and you'd start fighting. Whatever he chose to do, is what you would let him do. Osiris has taken notice of your feelings, and the knowing glances he gives when no one else is looking sets your face on fire, acting like he doesn't have a thing for Saint always writing those letters when he's on death's doorstep; dramatic is what you say.

Soon enough, all of your close friends can tell you like someone, but they simply can't figure out who. Ironically, the day you work up enough courage to ask him to be your partner is the same day he pins the location of the High Celebrant. The morning is tense, and just getting ready for the big fight is sending energy through your body. Crow, on the other hand, seems much more grim. It makes sense, really; you're the one who's been slaying gods over the years.

You're guard is quickly brought up when Spider summons you for a talk in the main room. You listen to his next words with a fierce intensity.

"Do not let him so close, or spoil him with pretty dreams. Kill the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath's hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prise in my lair as your reward. You'll have earned it."

Hiding a smile, you nod and make your way to disembark on your mission; looks like you won't have to ask.

The Dreaming City was as mystical as ever, and you vaguely wondered if Petra had seen you come in. Making quick work of the scarce Hive, you found yourself in Harbinger's Seclude. The massive Cryptolith was impossible to miss, and a full body shiver racked you as you approached it. This was it.

Stabbing the lure into the roots, Crow's voice filled your comm channel.

"Ha! Tagged it! It's bleeding energy and on its way back to you." Your heart jumped at his excited tone. Nobody had any business being that cute. The trademark screech of a Hive portal drowned out all noise, and your next big fight ensued.

The next period of time was spent chasing the Celebrant through realms, until, that is, it sealed the last portal. Osiris had given weak condolences, but you weren't going to give up on Crow. Not today! The blight high above you twinkled teasingly as frustrated tears swam over your eyes as you attempted scrambling up the large Awoken statue, just barely missing the hand and falling back to the ground uselessly.

The silence was becoming overwhelming, deafening, even. Osiris continued to tell you to return to fight another day, but he was too important for you to just leave behind.

"Maybe there's enough Hive magic left in the lure to find another way through!" For once, your Ghost didn't parrot the obvious; you almost wanted to kiss him. Turning around with a new fire, you thrusted your lure into the crystalline floor over the last trace of the High Celebrant's blood. Sure enough, platforms much like those of the Dreadnaught revealed themselves over the edge of the bridge.

You wasted no time, racing over every gap and closing in on the blight. Palpitations overtook your heart when Crow's voice returned to the feed, spewing some kind of death message. Death wouldn't take him. Especially not if you had anything to say about it.

Jumping through the portal, you recognize the bitter feelings of anguish. This is exactly how you felt when Sundance's light washed over the Prison of Elders. Not again.

By the time you see the High Celebrant, all you're seeing is red. Faintly, you remember how Drifter said the Hive in the system were scared of you; good. They should be.

Bullets fly and the ether sings with each corrupted Fallen whose head flies by your gun. If you weren't so pressed for time, you would've strangled the Wizard that had your sought after stolen Light. Standing in the pool of green magic, you turn a furious glare on to the Celebrant and unload your heavy straight into its bony head. Something inside of you lurched in desperation to finish the kill when it summons a portal, trying to make for a retreat and trapping you at the center of the room.

"Crow! The portal!"

"I see it! Now finish it!" Just as he says those words, the trap falls and the portal across the room implodes, sending the High Celebrant to its knees. Your body erupts with power as you descend upon the Hive that killed Sagira and nearly killed Crow, sending it off with your super into the abyss.

Heaving a sigh, your brain finally has a chance to clear with no more present danger. In fact, your chest swells with affection as your Ghost confidently speaks of his trust in Crow followed by his reply.

"It's been an honor, Guardian."

Finally leaving the location, Celebrant head included, you decide to sleep on your short trip back. Your Ghost wakes you up before you land, and when you transmat your eyes immediately fall on Crow, who is safe and sound. Behind your helmet, you smile wearily at the former prince.

The moment you step into the Spider's lair, the air is thick with tension. You can tell the kingpin is pleased to have the Shore cleansed of Hive corruption, but also upset that he has to give up one of his prizes.

"It's done." You say firmly.

"So it is... so it is," he leans forward in his seat with a leer, "All right, Guardian. As promised, you can have a prized bauble from my lair as compensation for your... heroics." The last word rolls off his tongue with a quiet distaste, and you have no problem returning the feeling.

"I want... him." Jerking your head in Crow's direction, you can feel the energy crack through the room.

"Cute. Real funny." Your brows crease in impatience at his dismissive snicker.

"You said anything in the room." You do your best to keep your eyes off of Crow; a distraction now could be bad news. Spider lets out a terrible laugh as his guards step forward, readying their spears.

"Oh... You really want my little bird," he puts an uncomfortable amount of importance on the words "really want", "Fine. You can have him." The large Fallen turns his gaze to Crow, mockingly waving his arm upward.

"Fly away," he looks back down at you, "and get the hell out of my lair."

No further instruction is needed as you and Crow make your leave. As you exit the safehouse, both Glint and your Ghost come out.

"Now what?" Glint looks to Crow for an answer. The reality of the event settles on the Awoken, and he looks at you in a way he hasn't before.

"Why would you do this for us?"

As a formality, you've never taken off your helmet around Crow. He'd never seen, or even had an idea about your face, until... now. The tear streaks from the mission are still on your face, slightly visible in the dim light. Walking over to him, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. He doesn't move away, but you do notice with a flash of hope that a blush is starting to grace his cheeks at your proximity. Clenching your eyes shut, you close the gap between you two and press a kiss to his lips.

He freezes for a moment before placing his hands on your shoulders, and you pull back afraid that you've just made the wrong move.

"I... uh." His eyes dart here and there before settling back on yours. His face straightens out, and then he hesitantly leans forward into your range again. This time, he's the one kissing you.

Both of you leave the Tangled Shore together.

Relationship HCs

He never fails to pick you up during your special brand of greeting, which is running straight at him and jumping into his arms. You even do the little spin around like those movie couples

He's okay with subtle PDA like handholding, but nothing too extreme such as kissing in front of others; he prefers to keep more intimate moments between you and him

Surprisingly eager for cuddles with you at the end of the day

He will let you indulge yourself by doing stupid things every once in a while, like seeing how much whipped cream you can put in his mouth before he can't take anymore

There are times when you just talk about random stuff because he knows you like the sound of his voice

He usually has to calm you down whenever another Guardian stares too long. You see it as a threat, and you're ready to defend your glowing boyfriend with your life

When you're not busy with Vanguard tasks, you're bringing him to the planets that weren't swallowed by the Darkness and showing him the layout, along with whatever endemic life is present

He becomes enamored with Earth's crows, which you had expected

Whenever he has visions of his past, he'll tell you and you do your best to fill in with rudimentary details such as location or time; you hope he never remembers the moment when you had to kill him

You especially love playing with his hair, it's nearly softer than silk and you are intrigued by the white streaks at the front of his cut

Both of you will decide to sit down every once in a while and just touch each other's face; you prefer running your hands along his jawline and cheekbones while he'll brush just under your eyes and along your temples

Dates can range from a quiet, romantic dinner to hunting down large and difficult quarry

Whenever you find a Golden Age waltz piece, you bring it to him and give it a listen; these sessions always end with you two dancing and swaying with each other

Truly, a couple of many talents

NSFW 👁👄👁

The first time you get anywhere close to the act he's so unsure of himself you both stop and instead explore each other at the surface level

No matter how many times he sees you nude his face is a blushing mess everytime

The first few times you take the lead, but once you both get over the fact that you've exchanged pleasantries he's the one who figures out he likes to be dominant in bed

He's vocal to an extent, mostly heavy breathing/moaning and grunts to let you know exactly how good you feel

He's super into bondage (who would've known?) whenever you're the one tying him up

He always prefers the ability to see your face, and whether it's because he can see your face contort in pleasure or because he can lock with you in a heated kiss, you can't tell

His sides are usually ticklish, but they act more like erogenous zones when both of you are deep into it

He starts out rough since he isn't used to this kind of activity at all, but over time he finds a balance between being gentle and absolutely blowing your back out

He's likely to caress your arms and waist the whole time to add another sensitive layer to your already overstimulated body

He also likes draping his body over yours, and with how hot his chest is and the press of his lower body? You're not arguing

Once you finish, he either goes straight to sleep while huddling against you or you convince him to get up so you can shower together

I have 2 asks for Drifter HCs, but I'm implementing a personal/request system so I can keep my monsterfucker train going. The next HCs I'm releasing are for Nokris, then I'll do Drifter HCs, and for now my last personal writing will be for Ghaul

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #crow x reader #destiny spider #osiris #saint 14 #cayde6 #uldren sov #destiny crow #petra venj #xivu arath

[the-paris-of-people]

Hi. This is really not a question but more of a rant. A really really long one. I apologize in advance. I honestly care waaaaayyyy too much about this show than I should. Clearly too bored🙈.

After reading people's comments on this show and the ships, there are so many things that irk me and I thought I'd share even if I might get crap for it. So here goes:

1. "Ben only wants Devi when she is with Paxton." I.e. it's about Paxton. Lol people are funny. As though Ben thinks he can compete with Paxton on a social level. He's not stupid, he knows full well he can't. It's about Devi and in part her obsession with Paxton. People don't like thinking about things from Ben's perspective because they just don't like him. He's the one that finds out Devi is cheating, she runs after Paxton at the party ( now granted before she runs out, she's intensely staring at Ben and then realises Paxton is leaving but Ben's not gonna remember that) and she was busy chumming it up with Paxton in episode 3 in front of Ben with absolute disregard for him. So his natural defence is to guard himself and have his walls go up. It is a valid response. He burries his pain (exactly what Samberg said). And does not let his guard down around her romantically until episode 10 when Paxton literally rejects her at school. At the school dance, sparks are flying between those 2. Is Paxton around at the time...Uhm no (I'll get into the whole Aneesa thing). In his mind Paxton is out of the picture and it's like he can almost trust her again. And then when Paxton shows up with Devi, he basically feels like a fool for ever thinking that he was ever something more than 2nd best or sometimes anything at all ( especially considering Devi still wants Paxton after Devi and Paxton's last public interaction that Ben witnessed- I mean he does not get to see the shit behind closed doors). But then when Eleanor spills the tea, that look on his face is disbelief, yes a little bit of jealousy but overwhelmingly heartbreak. He is essentially watching the chance he never knew he had go away. Now you could argue that he should have known that she wanted him back but she broke his trust and does not explicitly say, " I want you back". Ben's not trying to get burnt again based on some assumption/hunch. He has been wrong before.

2. "How dare Ben be upset that Devi is with Paxton when he is with Aneesa". Fair point. Just like how dare Devi be upset and lose her shit over Ben and Aneesa. But yet it still happend. Devi gets 5 episodes allowing her to be upset and Ben can't even have one moment when a firkken bomb gets dropped on him.

Aneesa and Ben should have never date. Everyone knows that. He was never over Devi. He just pushed those feelings down to make him believe he was over her. I obviously don't agree with this. Aneesa doesn't deserve that. Ben needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet. He is similar to Devi in that he doesn't want to process what happened and would rather move on and react. However, his reactions are far less impulsive/severe as Devi's. Him dating Aneesa is unfortunately a reaction. He didn't give himself time to really process how he feels. People say he dated Aneesa solely to spite Devi which is not true. Is there an element of " you never wanted me but someone else does"... absolutely but Aneesa is also very kind to Ben, they get along really well and she puts him first. Technically what's not to like. I mean if it was just to spite Devi, could he have not tried to hustle his way back in with Shira?? Problem is that dumb dumb didn't work through his Devi feelings and let's just be honest, the same spark and chemistry he has with Devi, is missing with Aneesa. It often feels forced, especially in regards to the pace of the relationship. I so wished Aneesa remained friends with Ben. That's what he needed...not another relationship.

3. "Aneesa is so amazing, she doesn't deserve to get hurt." I agree. She absolutely doesn't deserve to get hurt just like Ben and Paxton didn't deserve that crap Devi pulled. I think Aneesa is a great addition and I like that Devi has someone within her community to connect to. I'm South Asian myself and I genuinely value this aspect of my own life. I mean she is pretty great, kind and the anorexia rumour Devi unintentionally started was pretty heartbreaking. That scene where she talks to Devi at the relay about it, is so sad (especially coz we as viewers know Devi messed up). Now that being said is Aneesa also low key shady? YES. And it's not because she dated her friend's ex. It's because she started dating him knowing that Devi started the rumour about her because she was jealous about Ben and her. How does she think Devi would go from being so jealous that she starts a rumour, to the next week becoming their biggest "Stan". Come on girl. But there was no way Devi could say no after the crap she pulled with Aneesa. Ben did ask her out so if there is blame, he absolutely gets it too but he didn't know why Devi started that rumour (based on his surprised AF face when Eleanor spills the tea). Which leads me to my next question. Why didn't Aneesa tell him? Aneesa said Ben was supporting her through the rumour. She probably told him Devi started the rumour but didn't tell him why? That is odd? Clearly if Ben had known, he may changed his perspective on Devi actually wanting him instead of ignoring his feelings.

Lastly Aneesa knows there are unresolved feelings between Devi and Ben. This is evident from that dance scene. She literally runs to cut in their pretty intense conversation. Like why you running girl? I didn't think much of it at first but coupled with another moment, it makes a lot of sense. When Ben agrees to dance with Aneesa, he looks back at Devi and lingers and Aneesa picks up on this and pulls him away. It's a blink and you will miss it moment but it is there.

Now all of this doesn't mean she needs to get hurt but they probably need to break up. Ben needs to be single for a while and work through how he feels about Devi, Aneesa and most importantly himself. Whilst I don't particularly enjoy their relationship, you never get to see it from either of their perspectives. Maybe that could change things but honestly I just prefer Ben and Devi.

Also can everyone stop acting like Ben is dating Devi's best friend. Being brown doesn't make you automatically best friends and Ben and Devi met Aneesa the same week. People are acting like he is dating Eleanor.

4. "Devi chose Paxton". Please! The only thought through decision that girl made in regards to these 2 boys is when she chose herself and decided not to be Paxton's little secret. I mean in episode 1 and 2 she can't decide so she dates both. In episode 3, she interacts with Paxton because of the whole tutoring thing. He says they don't makes sense. While she seems a bit sad she doesn't seem too upset like she is season 1 and she isn't looking for any opportunity to spend time with him (unlike season 1). Episode 4,5,6,7 and 8 she is losing her mind over Ben. Half way through 8 she knows she has no choice but to let him go. But even after that she doesn't pursue Paxton. He does that at the end of episode 9 when in all honesty she hasn't really thought about him in a while. Then of course Paxton does what he does and she finally choose herself, issuing an ultimatum essentially. Paxton does eventually show up...but it's a choice by default. She just yo-yo's between them. She also needs to be single, deal with her loss, love herself and think about what she wants.

5. "Devi loves Paxton". Sure bud. Does have Devi have feeling for Paxton? Duh! But is it love. Nope. People like to confuse infatuation for love. She has been infatuated with this boy this the 3rd (she knew squat about him). When her dad died, she turns that infatuation into an obsession. It like becomes a full time hobby in season 1. She ruins relationships over it. In season 2 you can argue there is more depth to it and Paxton does grow in Season 2. But somehow she is still fixated on the fact that it's Paxton Hall-Yoshida. I mean she smells him (totally normal), Mc Enroe's comment at the relay was, "did this hunk of beef just say he likes spending time with her", when she breaks up him she says , "you are very good at kissing" not possibly any of his other good qualities. And at the end she says , "I guess I'm Paxton Hall Yoshida's girlfriend now". This boy is so far up a pedestal that if he fell of it, he'd break something. Now granted if he fell of it in Season 1, he'd be dead. So progress I guess...

Maybe the relationship will change in Season 3 and she genuinely falls in love with him. I mean Id be sad but obviously a real possibility. But also that relationship needs to move on from being just the "Paxton project" which it was basically all of season 2. Maybe actually talk about her every once in a while.

Also people who find the ending so amazing because he shows up...bare minimum bro. I understand his perspective, how does it look to go back with someone who cheated on you. Fair point 💯. However she didn't start this shit up again. He did. He liked her so much that he had to make out with her In the middle of the night out of the blue but not enough to respect her publically. That's some BS right there. If he started it, he should have thought it through instead of guilt tripping her. But he is a teenager and ALL of them make incredibly stupid decisions (we all have). Devi messed up big time too and she apologized. The same compassion must extend to him but in no way is it a grand gesture, it's the bare minimum...like her apologies

6. "Paxton forgave Devi forgave Devi so quickly whilst Ben didn't and was so mean". He did forgive her pretty quickly. Good for him. However let's not act like circumstance didn't carve the way for that. They were pushed together because of the whole tutoring thing and he knows that they have to see each other all the time. So logically just makes sense to keep the peace. But still mature oh his part. Also he wasn't as emotionally invested as Ben. Did he have feelings? Yes. However, based on his inner monologue (Gigi Hadid) his ego took more of a hit because how could Devi, the "weirdest girl" he ever liked two time him with Ben Gross. Did his feelings deepen by the end? Yes. But at the start...it isn't that deep.

Also it's great and all that he "forgave" her so quickly but he sure did like bringing it up a lot. Like at the relay guilting her, upset at the end of 6 because he failed...I mean wtf girl you owe me- I don't really care what else is going on in your life, again in episode 8 in the car and finally we all know the mess that is episode 10.

In regards to Ben. His anger is justified for reasons stated in point 1. In fact his reaction seems more real because he is deeply hurt by Devi. Do I like some of his reaction (i.e. nose piercing-will discuss this further) ...nope but she only sincerely apologises to him in episode 8 vs 3 for Paxton. He accepts it. People acting like they would be so calm and chill about being cheated on. And yes he did cheat on Shira. He tries to kiss Devi at party twice but apologises that day and the following week. He doesn't try anything with Devi the whole of episode 10 until she kisses him. He acknowledges that it was wrong and immediately breaks up with Shira. Although cheating is not something we should condone can we actually acknowledge that Shira was the worst and doesn't even remember Ben's name. Compare that to Devi's premeditated cheating. Her Eleanor are literally laughing at how amazing they are for pulling it off and Devi didn't care about either of their feelings cause she was going to be India. Sorry but that is far worse. She also thinks she can bullshit her apology with Ben. He isn't here for that...which is fine! He kept trying his level best to avoid her but even that she wouldn't let him do.

7. "Ben is Horrible". Has Ben done some shitty things. Absolutely. People complain that he has never apologised for anything. Fair enough. He needs to apologize for the UN comment and the psychosomatic comment. It was incredibly hurtful. However, no one does call him out of it. Now you could argue he should just do it. Please... have you watched these particular set of teenagers? None of them apologise without being called out on it first(except maybe Fabiola). And you only get called out my your support system ... which Ben does not have. He practically looks like he raised himself. He doesn't have parents to put him back in line or a sister to call him out on his shit. Devi has her mom, cousin, grandmum , Elanor, Fabiola and her therapist. Does she ever listen to them the first time? Nope. And her first time apologies are such messes. She only gets it right the 2nd or 3rd time. All of them have some form of support but not really him. And it is heartbreaking. It's why I genuinely believe he needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet to express everything he feels. He also needs to be held accountable for those comments and understand the root of it (ok let's be honest Devi even in their rivalry was probably the most constant person in his life, and fighting with her meant she stayed close by- it's a subconscious thing). He should apologize to her and also find better ways to communicate what he is feeling. The nose ring thing was manipulative. I agree. He should apologize. But I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't piss me off as much because I think it's pretty messed that it took that for her to realise how much she hurt him. Also tbh if you were willing to alter your body on a 2 minute thought out dare, you wanted to do it anyway. But again not a healthy way to emote on Ben's part. The David thing doesn't upset me because he knows how to pronounce her actual name. It's not like he doesn't know how and doesn't bother to try. It was part of their rivalry to irritate her. I honestly find it quite endearing as part of their friendship and think Devi does. I may be wrong and she may not like it and in that case he needs to stop and apologize.

I am not upset by him coming over to her house and calling her out about Aneesa. She deserved it. Also if she was that uncomfortable she could have taken him outside to talk like she did with Paxton. She is clearly comfortable enough to have him in the house. And her therapist agrees with Ben. If he hadn't, she wouldnt have known that Aneesa was leaving. Her mom took away her phone. And even then her first attempt at an apology was soooooo bad. And I don't think Ben did it solely to get Aneesa to stay so he could date her. This is Ben, he was willing to do long distance with Devi from India, I think he could have done the same with Aneesa from like the same town 🙄

I genuinely like Ben because he is a good kid. He makes mistakes like they all do. His personality is hilarious to watch but also his and Devi's relationship is so special. Me liking Ben and Devi has nothing to do with what Paxton has or has not done. I just like the dynamic between the two. They obviously care deeply for each other. Their conversations are hilarious. I love their banter. I love how comfortable they are with each and am sometimes surprised by the depth of their conversations. But also they have amazing chemistry. All the jealous looks and angst are between these two idiots pining for each other. I think she does have chemistry with Paxton but it's more because he is PHY, school Adonis. I mean let's be honest, he'd probably have chemistry with Fabiola solely cause he is PHY. The two nerds just match each other and it's so funny how often they are in sync. It's honestly adorable. They just get each other. That bathroom scene was the sweetest thing and also proves he's not this terrible person. She only comes out of the stall because of his support. He is genuinely hurt for her when technically it should have been a great moment for him.

I do believe the two have to be single for a bit before admitting their feelings for one another and moving forward. That's why my main thing for season 3 is that he absolutely cannot interfere in her relationship with Paxton. He needs to give her the space to figure that. Do I think there will be moments between them... absolutely but no cheating please. Everyone needs to move on from that. If they do it...I honestly think il be done with the show.

Anyways sorry for the really long ramble. If you made it to the end thanks for your patience 😌

Thank you for this beautiful masterpiece, I pretty much agree with everything and need to put it out there for the world to see

#im obsessed with benvi and yall KNOW it #ben x devi #thanks for the response i was soooo entertained while reading it #never have i ever

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

#tdp #tdp theory #tdp speculation #tdp parallels #tdp angst #heavy angst #viren #ethari #runaan #moonshadow elves #hopepunk #ezran #runaan's super getting a tart of jelly tm

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Rise Of Glory || 6

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

Harry and I wander to the cobble steps to his mother's house, Alex asleep in Harry's arms from the long drive. The drive was quiet, not because I am tired but because I don't know what to say at this point. Nothing I do or say is going to change things or make anything better. I am at a loss.

The door opens, and his mother stands in the doorway, bewildered by our sudden appearance. I don't blame her. It is unlike us to abruptly show up on her doorstep. Most of the time, Harry gives her a heads up.

She grants us her routine tender smile and ushers us inside.

"What brings you two here suddenly?" Harry's Mum questions.

I glance towards Harry, curious as to what he plans to tell her. Telling your mother you only came to visit to see a grave is not something you'd want to admit out loud or at all.

"Uh," Harry clears his throat, "The media have swarmed my building and are starting to come out at the house. We came here to get a break," Harry answers, opening his arms to half-hug his mother, who he has missed dearly, he won't admit it, but he has. He may hate having to come to Cheshire, I don't think that will ever change, but he loves having his mother back in his life at a more constant and healthier level. Their relationship has improved tremendously since I came here when we first started dating all those years ago. I still remember that weekend like yesterday.

It was the weekend I realised that the man I was falling in love with gives everything he has, mentally, emotionally and physically, to his mother and sisters wellbeing. He'd allow himself to drown a million times if it meant his family could stay afloat.

"I'm going to put him down," Harry informs his mother and me, giving me a tired smile before walking past me and down the hallway towards Harry's old bedroom.

Harry's Mum peers over towards me, her brows furrowing and her lips pursing; I can tell her thoughts are ticking away and that something is playing intensely on her mind. She has the same expression Harry has when he wants to say something but leaves the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure of whether to say them or not.

I cock my head to the side, debating myself whether to give her the go-ahead to tell me whatever is on her mind.

"He's lying to me," Anne bluntly states before I can figure out how to ask her what's on her mind, "You had to have left at around 3 in the morning to be here by now. He's tired, almost like he hasn't slept in days," she points out, "And you… you look exhausted too. I don't believe it's the media at your house that caused you both to drive up here… I'm not complaining. I'm just… I'm curious."

"It has been a long week for him. He wanted to get away." I don't know who I am trying to convince more, myself or her.

"He hates it here with a passion. I have seen the articles."

I nod, agreeing with her. She knows the truth. Harry doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he still hates this place. Even when we first started dating, he made it known he wasn't happy to be back. His home town brings back memories he doesn't want to remember, especially when he and his relationship with his mother were strained to the point they weren't speaking at all. "This is where he wanted to come."

"But it isn't where he wants to be… he hates it up here… are things that bad in London?" She questions softly, and I can't help but nod. She looks me up and down and bites her lip for a moment, almost as if she's holding back whatever thoughts are racing through her thoughts, "Are you and Harry okay? You're not fighting or?"

"We're fine," I immediately cut her off, "It's the business and the media that's pushing him off the rails."

"Mhm," she hums, "And you, are you okay?"

I give her a small smile and nod, "I'm okay."

"You're lying."

"Anne—"

"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"

"It's been a rough few months," I softly respond, "It has taken a lot out of me."

The last three months have been an absolute roller coaster, mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm not quite sure how I've managed to keep things together to the extent I have. There are still days I feel like the world's weight is so heavily on me that I can't breathe. There are days I feel like I'm drowning and can't pull myself away. There are the days I feel like I'm finally okay and can breathe, but the second I manage to come up for air, there's something to pull me down, whether it's work-related, family-related or past related.

"Why didn't you call? Harry kept saying you were fine."

"I have been fine," I respond softly.

In all honesty, I have been fine… kind of. I'm as fine as what can be expected, considering the events that have happened. I'm not going to lie, I may be fine, but I'm still very much up and down when it comes to things. There are good days, and there are bad days.

"If you ever need me, I'm just a call away. You know that, right?" She offers me her sweet, caring smile that has always assured me of tough times and situations.

"Yes, I know."

"Okay, go get yourself some sleep."

"I have work I need to do once I get my laptop out of the car. We might be up here, but the business doesn't stop just because we aren't there."

"Well, at the very least, take a seat on the couch, put your feet up and relax for a minute. Let me at least make you some tea."

"You're too kind to me," I smile towards her.

"You're kind to my son. It's the least I can do for my darling daughter-in-law," she beams.

Anne hands me a steaming cup of tea as I answer a few emails from my phone, too tired to go out and get my laptop. "I have one last question."

"Mhm," I hum, waiting for her to ask what is on her mind.

"What happened to his hand?"

"Oh, he was washing dishes and somehow cut his hand," I tell her the truth.

I don't think it is my place to tell her about Logan or that Harry might be losing his mind. Right now, it is up to Harry to speak to her and want to talk about things. I cannot force him. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Harry will speak when he feels like speaking, and he will tell his mother when he is ready and on his terms.

I don't think I should be the one to tell her that we made the long drive up here just because Harry can't wrap his head around the fact Logan has risen from the dead. No mother wants to hear that as a reason as to why their son has finally visited.

I wish I could say that we visit here often for good occasions, but it is far from the truth. We come up here for holidays, and that is as far as it goes. I have made the drive a few times with Alex to get away from the city, but that has been on rare occasions. Harry doesn't like the idea of me making the drive on my own, and he hates having to come up here. We have settled on staying away from Cheshire and having his mother visit us when she can. I do wish things were a bit different. I do wish we lived closer to his Mum or came up here often. I think it would benefit Harry to be around his mother more and have a family sense. He has my family, but it is different. His mother is irreplaceable, and I know that deep down, he misses his sister. They may not be on the best of terms right now, but I know he loves and misses her.

When Alex is a little older, I would often like to bring him up here to see the neighbours' baby animals. He would love playing with the goats and picking fresh farm eggs, which is not as usual in our life. He would be thrilled to run the fields without a care in the world, a completely different environment compared to home. We have a lot of space for him to run around at home but nothing like the countryside.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

With Harry's fingers laced with my own, I pass the identical headstones that I passed in November of 2021, on the same day we buried Logan.

Nothing has changed about the cemetery. It's still as uncanny and ill-fitting as it was that day. The headstones are still cracked and withered with the voyage of seasons. It is a shame how the graves fade away. It's almost as though since these souls have left earth, nobody cares enough to fix up the graves that have cracked and deteriorated. It bothers me now like it did the day I walked through here a few years ago.

This cemetery is old, at least over 100 years old. I remember noticing some of the inscriptions when I was here last dated back to the 1800s. These monument stones of cold, decaying cement have presumably observed more people and tears of melancholy and exuberance than one could probably picture. And yet, nobody can take the time to take care of the graves. There are scarcely any flowers on the graves.

It disheartens me that as I escort past all these graves, I still feel saddened even years later because we pass by people who have once lived and wandered this very earth.

"Harry, are you sure it's this way?" I challenge as we pass another row of headstones.

I can't tell if my anxiousness tells me we have gone too far or if we need just to leave and go back home. Part of me doesn't want to wander any further than what we have. After all, walking through grave yeards is always eerie.

"I'm sure I know where my dead brother is buried," Harry grimly mutters, "I was here for it." Harry reminds me of the day he endured.

"No need to be so… morbid," I inform him, doing my best to keep my voice low. We don't need an argument in the middle of a cemetery, even if he is a dickhead.

I stop in my tracks, and Harry turns to glance at me as his hand leaves mine, "Why are you stopping?" Harry questions, and I can't help but take a moment to take in his features as a distraction.

I don't know how to tell him that I don't feel comfortable walking in this cemetery, I don't want to go any further, and I don't think this is a beneficial approach. Nothing good ever comes from this place. I push away my thoughts and feelings, "I couldn't remember if I checked on Alex before we left," I lie. I know I checked on Alex before we left. He was still asleep and cuddled up to his teddy bear.

"We both did, love. Mum knows what she's doing, and you know that, relax," Harry responds, kissing my cheek before lacing his fingers back with mine and beginning to walk again.

Harry and I come to an abrupt standstill, and the two of us become withdrawn while we take in the view of what's in front of us. Harry squeezes my hand gently, and I can't help but squeeze back, a small amount of reassurance for him to know that I am right here and that I can see the same thing he can see.

The deafening silence is intruded abruptly and without signal by the ghastly screech of a blackened crow— the same intense screech that I swear I first heard once Logan was buried in this plot.

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

I shiver as a tingle operates through my body, the character of the crow sounding like nails on a chalkboard. This is the same place I stood in years ago when the crow first screeched—Harry was squatting by the grave, gazing at the soil, and I was standing right here.

I take a breath of the crisp air, and my eyes immediately cast themselves on the crow that is shrieking. Its relentless stare catches my own before I take note that it isn't alone. Harry and I are outnumbered and are intently observed by one… two... three… four… five crows, possibly six; I can't tell if the shadow in the distant tree is one of them or not. Either way, I wish we had never come here. They say if you see five crows, sickness will follow; see six crows, and death will follow.

A gust of wind whisks past us, settling brittle, dead leaves to dance around our shoes to take my gaze away from the crows. I watch the leaves swing around our feet, twirling around us like vines, almost as though they're tightening around our feet and ready to pull us down. I caress my hand to my stomach as I observe the leaves tumbling, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my stomach that twists, knots, and tightens like the motions of the leaflets. The breeze declines, and the leaves become motionless.

I gaze back towards where the first crow was, only to find it gone, leaving me with nothing but an unsettling uneasiness in the pit of my stomach and an abandoned grave of where Logan used to rest.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #imagine harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #Styles & Co #CEO harry #CEO harry edits #Imagine harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots #harry styles preferences #1d imagine

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Time got away

And Rafi is back. This was inspired by the little clip of Raul walking out on his phone for the best writing buddy a gal could ask for @detective-giggles​ xx

WC: 2307

Warnings: Smut, not my gif and sorry for any mistakes.

 You sat in the car looking at the arrest warrant torn at what to do, 

"We should just do it, Carisi-" 

"Kat, Sonny isn't our boss, if we have this wrong and we make the arrest Liv is going to be pissed. Fin's not answering we need to call her" 

"But she said she didn't want to be-" 

"Unless it was an emergency and I think this is an emergency"  you cut Kat off.

 You picked up your phone and dialled Liv's number and to your surprise she picked up in a couple of rings and she didn't sound angry, 

 "Y/N what's up?" 

 "Liv we really need you to run over this paper work, Sonny wants us to make the arrest, but my gut-and the results aren't back yet" 

 "Ok, well I won't be back for a while, I’ll send you the address that I ‘am at, come there" 

You and Kat pulled up around the corner of the address Liv sent you. You both jumped out and all but ran to door walking into the small restaurant. Kat had walked in before you when your phone pinged with a new message from the lab with the results. You were walking slowly looking at your phone following Kat's voice as you walked, 

 "Fin we have been trying to call you- Sorry to distrub your lunch Liv" you heard Kat say. 

 "Ok- wished we had got this sooner because we wouldn't have had to call you, results are back" 

 You looked up and what was in front of you was a surprise of the best kind. Your eyes were wide and your mouth open, 

 "Barba?" 

 "Detective Y/L/N" Rafael smiled and slid out from the booth walking up to you and giving you a hug "It's so good to see you" Rafael said in your ear pulling back and giving your shoulder a squeeze "how are you?"  

 It was like the whole room melted away and it was just you and him. You scanned his beard covered face before meeting his beautiful green eyes and you both smiled at each other, 

 "I ‘am good, how are you?  Your back?" 

"Good" Rafael nodded and smiled "Yes I’ am" 

 "Well welcome back, Manhattan missed you" He chuckled at you and gave you a wink. 

 "Sorry to break up the reunion but what's the results?" Fin was leaning over the back of the booth seat. 

 Yours and Rafael's eyes lingered a little longer on each other before you were pulled back down by your phone ringing, 

 "Sonny I’ll call you back- no we are with Liv now- you’re not my boss so don't start- yes I got them too, ill ring you when it's done"  

 You cleared your throat opening your lock screen back up to the lab results, Rafael didn't miss the photo on your screen of Sonny, Amanda, him and you from his very last night out with the squad before everything spiralled, you all had your arms around each other but your cheek was on his smiling big. His heart swelled reaching into his pocket pulling out his wallet pulling out a card with his new number on it.  

 "Ok go- Fin go with them they are going to need back up"  

 Fin slid out of his seat, Kat and him rushing off,  

 "Good work Y/N" Liv smiled up at you,  

 "Thanks Liv, Rafael hope to see you again soon" you smiled and went to turn away. 

 As you turned away you felt Rafael's hand on your shoulder stopping you, "I know you have to go but here" he handed you his card "Call me when you finish work, we can get a drink" 

 You nodded, your cheeks slightly pink, "I would love that" you kissed him on the cheek before rushing out. Rafael sat back down and looked out the window as you rushed by, his tummy did a flip, 

 "She was a nightmare after you left" Liv took a sip of her coffee “I thought I was going to have another Amaro on my hands” Liv smirked

 "What?" Rafael looked at Liv. 

 “She took it really hard. She hasn't changed that picture on her phone since you left." 

 It was around 10 by the time you got back to your place after the arrest, interviews and processing. You were standing at your kitchen bench and you pulled the card out of your back pocket and stared at it for a long while. You picked up your phone opening it to dial the number,  

 "Hello" 

 "Hey Rafael its Y/N, sorry did I wake you?" 

 "No of course not, did you just get home?" 

 "Yeah it was a long day, I'm sure you remember how it is" 

 Rafael laughed "Do you have to go in tomorrow?" 

 "No, Kat and I have the day off- but I'm on call just in case" 

 "Well then, how about that drink?" 

 The cab pulled up in front of the hotel and you took in a deep breath before you walked in. You had 15 minutes from the time you got off the phone till you needed to leave. You showered putting on long tights and knee high boots, with a long lose mustard wool jumper. Your hair was wavy from being in a bun all day so you ran with lose waves and light make-up. 

 As you walked into the lobby you saw Rafael leaning against the wall looking down at his phone looking just as handsome as you seen him earlier in his jeans and a jacket. Where he was staying wasn't far from your place so you messaged when you were leaving. 

 Rafael must have heard your foot steps on the tiles and looked up, your eyes meeting and a big smile pulling to both your faces. Rafael started to walk towards you wrapping his arms around you pulling you in for a big hug and kissing your cheek and then the top of your head. 

“Ready for that drink?" Rafael smirked at you. 

 The hotel bar had closed not long after you got there, so you and Rafael decided to go halves in a bottle of wine and head back up to his room. The room was nice but plain. It only had a bed and TV cabinet with a small fridge.  

 "Get comfortable Y/N" Rafael nodded towards the bed as he poured 2 glasses of wine.  

 You placed your bag down on the floor and then sat on the bed to pull your boots off, moving yourself to sit with your back resting on the head board your legs stretched out in front of you. You watched as Rafael's placed down the bottle, shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes. He picked up the two glasses walking over handing them to you while he got on the bed next to you and got comfortable. He reached for his glass, your hair stood on end as goose bumps covered your body when his finger tips brushed your hand, 

 "Thanks for coming tonight" Rafael smiled at you. 

 "I'm glad you asked me, it was nice to catch up" The room fell silent for a long moment "Are you glad your back?" You adjusted yourself so you could face him more. 

 "For the most part" he took a sip of wine. 

 "I' am glad your back" you bowed your head so he couldn't see your red cheeks and Rafael patted your knee. 

 "What's been happening?" Rafael smiled at you. 

 "I mean not much with me. Between helping Amanda with Jesse now she has Billie, getting to know Kat and catching up with Sonny when he isn't snowed under and work, doesn't leave room for much else. What about you?" You sipped a mouth full of wine. 

 "Work, moving back, seeing my Mother and trying to find a place" 

 It wasn't long after that another bottle of wine arrived that Rafael had ordered and you were on the last glass of that bottle, drinking water between each glass not wanting to get too carried away and embarrass yourself, 

 "What's it like Carisi being ADA?" Rafael sat his empty glass on the bedside table turning back to face you on his side. 

 "He's good. He doesn't handle the stress as well as you did, but he is doing an amazing job. I miss him as my partner though, but I wouldn’t trade Kat she has been amazing" 

 "So seems like life went on after I left" Rafael frowned. 

 "What else were we meant to do Rafael, no one wanted you to go- but it doesn't matter now your back" you drunk down the rest of your wine and turned to sit that on the bedside table next to you. 

 "No one wanted me to go or you didn't want me to go" Rafael said with a husky voice before clearing this throat. 

 "Well both, I mean you were important to me- to us. We were like a family and then you disappeared, it was hard adjusting to the loss of you."  

 Rafael didn't say anything, he moved to lay down with his fingers intertwined resting on his stomach looking up at the roof, you didn't feel shy after the drinks you had, and so you laid down next to him on your side looking at his frowning face. Your eyes scanned down his salt and pepper hair and you had to fight yourself not to reach over and run your fingers through it, 

 "Did I say something wrong?" You whispered.  

 Rafael didn't answer straight away "No-Come here" Rafael moved his arm inviting you to lay on his chest, your arm laying across his middle. His bearded chin resting on your forehead, 

 "Do you understand why I left"  

 "Yes and no-But yes" Rafael chuckled at you. 

Rafael's hand moved to your chin titling your head back to look up into his eyes, 

 "I missed you Y/N" his stare was intense,  

 "I missed you too" you squeaked out. 

 "Have you been with anyone else since I left?" 

 Your cheeks went bright red not just from the question, but from his stare and how he was rubbing your jaw with his thumb. Rafael rolled over onto his side, his nose almost touching on yours. You gasped when you felt how hard Rafael was poking into your thigh, 

 "Have you been with anyone else since I left" Rafael repeated his question, hand now pushing up your jumper running it up and down your back. 

 "N-no, not since that night with you" you whimpered feeling his breath and beard so close to your face. 

 "Why?" 

 "I told you I've been busy, time got away" 

 "That's a lie" Rafael's lips were almost on yours. 

 "Have you?" You challenged him. 

 "No, time got away" he rolled his hips into your thigh "I have never forgotten the feeling of your hand around my cock" 

 Your hand moved down between your bodies reaching Rafael's bulge in his pants and you started to rub it. Rafael's lips met yours for a slow soft kiss that soon became deep and rough. Rafael ran the hand that was running down your back into the waist of your tights and panties, squeezing your ass with his big hand. Moaning into his mouth.  

You made quick work of undoing his belt buckle, button and zipper, reaching into his boxers pulling out his hard length. Rafael pulled back from your mouth grunting thrusting his hips into your hand. Rafael moved his hand form your ass around to your core cupping it, the palm of his hand pressing into your pearl your wetness coating his hand. You ran your hand up and down up and down Rafael, his pre-cum spreading over your hand, twisting your wrist every so often,

 “It’s better than I remember” Rafael’s lips crashing on yours his tongue darting into your mouth, his hips rolling into your hand.

 “Is it just like you remembered?” you purred, as Rafael pushed a finger into you, then another his thumb rolling your clit. You bit your lip.

 Rafael’s fingers were prodding into you fast, his thumb rolling your swollen pearl feverishly, and your pace on Rafael speed up. You groaned into his mouth, tightening around his fingers while your climax peaked and rushed through you. Your grip on Rafael tightened as you twisted your wrist and he pulled away from your lips, a load grunt along with your name leaving his mouth as he came on your hand and tights.

 You both laid there, hearts pumping hard in your chests breathing rapidly staring into each other eyes. Rafael peaked you on the lips pulling his hand out of your tights moving from the bed to go and clean himself up. You fixed yourself up and stood up off the bed looking to see that your jumper covered where Rafael had come on your tights. Rafael walked out of the bathroom fixed up, his face and beard wet from where he splashed water on it,

“You can use the bathroom now” Rafael walked over to you putting his hands on your hips pecking your lips you nodded and walked in to wash up.

 When you came out Rafael was sitting on the bed leaning his elbows on his thighs,

 “You ok? I can leave if you want me too”

 Rafael looked up at you extending his hand grabbing yours, pulling you to sit down on his lap. One arm wrapping around your waist the other hand resting on your upper thigh holding you close.

 “Why would you think I wanted you to leave?” Rafael lent forward kissing your neck, his beard running over your neck and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I- just saying” you bit you bottom lip.

 “Y/N I just got you back. And besides, next time I won’t be coming in your hand, me entiendes?”

 Tags: @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @dianilaws​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @averyhotchner​

#ada rafael barba #ada barba #rafael barba x yn #Raul Esparza #BRING BACK BARBA #law and order svu #barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #fantasy #fanfic #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan #nbc svu #svu x reader #we love barba #rafael barba imagine #barba fanfic #barba fanfiction #barba fan #fanfiction #rafael barba #rafael x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x #rafael barba x female reader #rafael barba and reader #barba and reader #reader insert

[evanoracronwell]

Sunrise

Malex Cupid 2021 by @malex-cupid​

Day 3: “Do you know what today is?”

Also on ao3

__________________________________________________________

It is the sound of the phone ringing that awakens him.

With a grunt, he rolls over the bed until he reaches the nightstand and picks up the device, when he sees the notification on the screen the smile opens on his lips, and any irritation at being woken up disappears.

I'm already on my way home.

I can't wait to see you.

Love you.

Alex.

Alex, his beautiful and irresistible boyfriend.

And fuck if Michael would ever get tired of that word.

Smiling like a teenager, Michael answered the message, and as soon as he pressed to send he heard the growl coming from his feet on the bed. Wrinkling his nose, he looked at the beagle spread on the bed with his face completely mashed from sleeping.

"What is it, girl? It's not that early, it was almost time to get up anyway. We have a lot of things to take care of today"

With an excitement that made Buffy snort indignantly, Michael got out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom to take a quick shower and finish waking up.

Today was a very important day.

It was the first Valentine's Day that he and Alex would spend together, as a couple.

And well, honestly speaking, it was the first Valentine's Day that Michael would celebrate at all. He had no idea how to make it work. But it had to be perfect.

Because Alex deserved nothing but perfection.

So he changed his clothes and get ready to start the day.

He took Buffy for a walk even though the dog was clearly outraged about getting out of bed so early on Sunday morning.

He cleaned the whole cabin, feeling extremely proud of the home he built with Alex.

Now completely renovated, the cabin barely resembled that house that Alex had inherited from old Jim.

The couple's bedroom had been painted a light color, the bed replaced by a king bed, the wardrobe custom-made by Michael himself. The chair in the corner where Buffy always took refuge to sleep when she wasn't in bed with them.

The bathroom had been enlarged and adapted to Alex's needs, the treat they had done to themselves by buying a hot tub, and that they spent hours and hours in the water relaxing after a tiring day.

The living room now has a huge and comfortable sofa, armchairs and a television.

The kitchen had been renovated and modernized.

Everything was so perfect, so ... theirs.

The photos were scattered around the rooms. Showing captured moments of happiness between him, Alex, and the whole gang.

After so many years, Michael finally had a home to call his own.

And most importantly, a home with Alex. What made it even more special

With the house clean it was Buffy's turn to face the terrible shower, and the cowboy could only laugh while the dog whimpered as if she were suffering the worst torture at the hand of one of her fathers. But there she was, bathed and smelling the baby scent of the products they bought at the pet store, and with a pretty red bow that Isobel had made to buy for the dog.

And that was exactly why today had to be just perfect.

Because after eight months of living together, he would finally ask the hand of that beautiful man in marriage.

"Okay girl, now you behave yourself because Dad needs to go out and buy things to make dinner. Your daddy will be here tonight." He smiled when he saw how Buffy immediately reacted to Alex's mention. "That's right, girl, he'll be back today."

Michael had also changed a lot, months ago he had opened his own mechanical garage after old Sander decided to retire, the place had undergone a major renovation and was nowhere near the old Junkyard. Michael even had employees working with him, well ... just two kids that Michael was still training and teaching everything. But they were good kids and above all, hardworking, and after all, Michael never even imagined that he would have his own business.

As he drove to the market downtown, Michael found himself thinking about how much life had changed.

After Alex finally left the air force, he got a job at a private security company in Washington, but luckily he could work remotely, they paid extremely well and it made the job too perfect for Alex to turn down, so now taking the few trips he took to personally attend a few customers, Alex was always at home.

When parking the truck in front of the market, the cowboy smiled when he saw his sister standing at the front door waiting for him.

"You know when I said I was coming to the market when you called me, it wasn't an invitation for you to join me." Michael grunted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a shopping cart and Isobel joined him in the aisles.

"Please, as if you could keep me away. Now tell me, how are the preparations for the big night?"

"I already cleaned the whole cabin and bathed Buffy and yes, I put on the bow you brought her yesterday."

"Great, my niece has to be beautiful. The candles?"

"I have already spread some of those aromatic candles around the house, I will light them as soon as I hear his car pull over. The delivery man left the flowers for me just before I left the house, they are already in the water and I will finish fixing them when I return home."

"Your clothes?"

"Washed and ironed."

"The ring?"

"On my nightstand."

"Your heart?"

"Coming out from my mouth."

Isobel laughed out loud at her brother's terrified look and hugged him around the waist, laying her head on his shoulder as she watched Michael go putting all the items in the cart.

"Michael, he loves you. Nothing is going to go wrong tonight, trust me. He will say yes. There is no couple in the world more perfect for each other than the two of you."

"We really are perfect together, aren't we?"

Isobel laughed again at her brother's silly passionate look, but she still agreed, because in fact there was no couple more in love and more perfect for each other than Michael and Alex.

"So, what's the menu going to be?"

The small box in his trouser pocket seemed to weigh a ton, making Michael's nervousness increase by the second.

Well, it turns out that cooking seems a lot easier in the videos he had seen on the internet than in practice. Not that Michael was not a good cook, he was, but he understood a lot more about cooking typical daily foods, yet he couldn't deny that he did an excellent job.

A few hours later and he had a perfect gorgonzola risotto, a rare grilled steak with a sauce of herbs and vegetables sautéed in butter. The table was already prepared with candles and a flower arrangement, beautiful, but small so that it wouldn't disturb them to look each other in the eye.

With a shower already taken and perfumed Michael looked in the mirror, that was not the kind of clothes he used to wear, dark gray trousers and a light blue shirt, but it was worth it, especially when he knew how turned on gets seeing him like that.

Perfect.

Tonight had to be perfect.

When Alex parked in front of the cabin all he could think about was how much he missed Michael, after four days away, all he wanted to hug his boyfriend and get into the hot tub for hours.

Upon opening the door, however, Alex felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you know what today is?”

The room was lit only by two lamps that barely gave any light, leaving the rest of the lighting responsible for some candles. And flowers, white roses because Michael knew it was Alex's favorite, scattered as buds and petals everywhere. And right there, in the middle of the room, the most beautiful of all men.

Michael looked at him with a smile on his lips and his eyes were already watering.

"Michael ...?" Alex asked confused but thrilled as he dropped his backpack at the entrance to the cabin and took a step closer to Michael.

"It's Valentine's Day Alex, our first Valentine's Day together. And I've spent a lifetime wishing for this day, but never really believing that it could truly happen. Thirteen years ago you gave me a place to spend the cold nights, a guitar, and one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen in my life. " Michael started talking, staring at Alex, who was still a little confused, walking towards his boyfriend until he stopped in front of him. "You showed me that there was good in people and that there was a place for me here, on Roswell. On this planet. You gave me hope, Alex, hope that I could be happy, hope that there was more to people than just cruelty and second intentions. You taught me what it is to love and be loved in such a pure and intense way that it stayed with me, saved in my heart for more than a decade. Nurturing and comforting me every time I felt alone and lost. "

The cowboy smiled and touched Alex's face, who was looking at him so beautifully, his eyes already wet and shedding silent tears, both of them barely moving in fear of breaking that moment so sublime. Michael, speaking in a whisper as if he was afraid to wake up from that dream he felt he was living.

"There hasn't been a single day in my life that I haven't missed you, that I haven't thought of you, and most of all, that I haven't loved you. I'm yours, Alex, totally and completely yours, body, soul, and heart. I am yours to do anything you want. I always have been and will continue to be until my last breath, and beyond that too. I waited more than a decade to finally have you in my arms, and here we are living a life that I never even dared to dream of being possible. But we're here, celebrating our first Valentine's Day together. But I want more. "

With a beautiful smile, Michael took the box out of his pocket and saw how Alex immediately choked and sobbed as Michael went down on one knee showing him a beautiful and delicate silver band.

"I want to celebrate every Valentine's day with you, I want to start a family and see kids running around in our backyard, I want to adopt more dogs, I want to grow old by your side Alex. So please, could you make me the happiest man in the world and accept being my husband?"

Feeling completely overwhelmed with all the emotions he felt at that moment, Alex felt unable to even breathe for a few seconds while looking at Michael.

The beautiful and irresistible, Michael.

The eternal love of his life, Michael.

Kneeling at his feet asking Alex to be his forever.

"There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be your husband."

It was Buffy's bark that woke him, the small, plump beagle was lying on the sofa and Alex laughed when he saw her adorned with a red bow with the words "be my valentine" in white. Looking back at the man kneeling in front of him, Alex smiled so delighted and in love that Michael didn't even dare to blink for fear of losing that vision.

Alex never thought it possible to love that man more than he already did, but here was Michael proving him wrong.

Alex answered in a hoarse and choked voice and then threw himself into Michael's arms causing them to fall on the carpet in the middle of the room, between tears and laughter they kissed in love while Buffy barked and mumbled as if she were also celebrating the news.

"I love you, Michael." Alex murmured against Michael's already red and swollen lips after exchanging long, passionate kisses.

"I love you, too, Alex."

When the next day dawned, Michael grunted when he felt the light coming through the window waking him up. But the sigh coming from the man between his arms made him open his eyes and smile.

Last night had been perfect, much more than he had imagined.

Alex had accepted his proposal, they had eaten dinner while talking and listening to the soft melody that Michael had selected to play, and then they had spent a long time immersed in the hot tub where Michael sank into Alex's body, loving every bit of skin that he could touch. Only later, they went to bed and it was the cowboy's turn to ride Alex passionately, taking all the beautiful moans out of that mouth that he loved to kiss.

Now, holding the most important person in his life in his arms, Michael sighed contentedly as he brought his body closer to Alex, wrapping him tighter in his arms, and then smiled seeing the ring adorning that beautiful man's finger.

Alex, his fiance.

Alex, his future husband.

Yes, Michael smiled feeling his heart overflowing with love and happiness.

He smiled feeling the warmth of a new sunrise touching his skin and bringing all the promise of a long and happy life with Alex

Life couldn't be more perfect.

#malex #malec fic #malexcupid21 #day 3 #prompt: do you know what today is? #alex manes #michael guerin #roswellnm #malex fluff #valentinesday #proposal

[emachinescat]

I've decided to watch MacGyver from the beginning (again), and I'm live tweeting the experience with every tweet tagged with #savemacgyver. I thought it would be fun to share my collected thoughts from the episodes on here as well.

My Thoughts on S1E2, "Metal Saw"

Seriously love the music in this show!

THE FREAKING BELT GRAB. You can tell they've done this kind of thing before.

I always love it when Jack and Mac have heart-to-hearts in the middle of super intense, dangerous situations. Like... it's sweet, but time and place, guys?

"Hi, I'm Jack." Nervous Jack is bebby.

Ew, sweat. Like, I know it's "realism" to have sweat stains on clothes in situations like these, but that's one bit of realism I can always do without. Gross.

Is that a bit of PTSD I'm seeing with Mac there on the couch? That's a kind of realism I can always get behind.

Riley finding Mac and Boze in that compromising position will never not be funny. "But he was on top." I love Riley more every episode.

Riley is a really good liar from day one.

I love the joke about ex-cons benefiting from being in relationships with stable people (i.e., fake boyfriend Bozer), then the immediate cut to Bozer with his whole arm inside the vending machine. Great stuff.

Love the Riley and Bozer bonding... right up until the cringe-tastic "Slide me your digits."

"Soon, I'm gonna woo you the same way Romeo would have wooed Juliet if they had Snapchat back in the Renaissance." Bozer and his surprisingly accurate pickup lines. The Renaissance did in fact start in Italy around the 14th century, when R&J is thought to take place.

I love all this psychoanalyzing of Mac. "Adapting is his survival mechanism." Also I'm living for Jack sticking up for Mac to Patti.

"This place has been searched by everybody and their dog." Is this a Texas thing or an old guy saying? Either way it's great.

Nothing beats the early days of Mac and Jack. Nothing. I wish we had gotten more interactions where Jack has to parent Mac: "Stop touching that. Look at me." ❤️❤️❤️

Jack so concerned about Mac and putting on the kid gloves = everything I could have ever asked for and more.

Jack has such a big heart. Poor guy, the look on his face when he sees that the reporter is actually Sarah...

Paperclip sculptures: When I first started watching the show, I thought they were lame. Now I miss them so much. Does that mean I've gotten lamer or that they were always cool and I was always lame?

"Closest time I ever came to coming home in a box." Oof. This line hits different now, and not in a good way.

I just love how Jack is this big tough ex-Delta who is so open about his emotions, particularly with Mac. And the way Mac reassures him... Their bromance is top-tier.

"Oh, like when they invented fire!" Another zinger.

Mac grabbing that giant cigar right out of that dude's mouth 😂😂😂

Love some good fight-scene Mac whump! 👏👏👏 And bar fights are always a blast!

Riley with the car door - such a boss. "What? You told me to stay in the car, and I did."

I've seen some people say they don't like S1 Mac's hair. I kind of dig it, to be honest. He looks like he's 5, but I love it.

Mac has made a lot of DIY cutting torches in his time, but they never get less impressive.

Jack trusting Mac to save Sarah while he keeps watch is just *chef's kiss*!

These early episodes have so many MacGyverisms. One right after the other. It's awesome.

I've never been a big fan of the dark either, Mac.

The first scene with Mac and Sarah is so beautifully tense and whumpy (he way he scrabbles for purchase, gasps for breath, that hitch in his voice as he tries to squeak out Jack's name) that I had to rewind and watch it again.

The hopeful disbelief in her voice: "Jack Dalton came for me?"

Sarah can kick some serious ass. I can see why Jack likes her. Too bad she's about to lead him on the rest of the episode, while actually having a fiance...

Sarah: *leans out of car, shooting her weapon with deadly, terrifying precision* Riley: I agree, this woman should not have kids. 😂 Everything that comes out of Riley's mouth is gold.

Riley asleep in the back of the car while Mac sits quietly and Jack and Sarah have a sweet moment is like mom and dad with the kids in the backseat. Except mom has a fiance and hasn't told dad yet, even though she's had ample opportunity.

Because seriously, Sarah. It's not that hard to tell him the truth. Giving him those big eyes and flirting with him, thinking he has a chance is just cruel. I have never liked her character, and this is why.

Mac and Jack giggling about Jack's crush on Sarah like middle-school girls is life.

"You're just gonna have to let that go." Man, I love their relationship.

Gosh, the scene where they find Luis always hurts so badly. These early episodes did not play around.

"There isn't always time to beg some suit back home for permission to do what's right." I'm not a fan of Sarah, but I love this line. Also, this is pretty much the synopsis of the whole show.

Riley's hair used to be so LONG! 😍

The loyalty of these three! And I love the OG trio so much.

This sleazy guy in the computer place makes my skin crawl.

Love how Patti's like, "Mac will be back by then." Not Jack, not Riley. Just Mac. Can we say teacher's pet? I actually lowkey love this though.

"Who is this guy?" Much like Doctor Who's "It's bigger on the inside," I never get tired of people being equally amazed and confused at the stuff Mac can do.

I've never been the biggest car chase junkie, but Barrios jumping over the car using that log in the road is pretty dope.

Sarah's rage is chilling. And Jack talking her down breaks me every time.

Again, I love the loyalty of our team. Everyone sticks up for each other, ending with Mac's totally unbelievable but still somehow 100% genuine "It was me. I forced them." TOO good.

First mention of Oversight this early. Just thinking about who it is that doesn't like unsanctioned ops just makes me 😤 I wonder if the writers knew who OS was at this point or if it was a later development.

I do wish we could have gotten more conspiratorial, approving Patti. She's so much better than expressionless, bland Patti.

The way Sarah never told Jack about her fiance Jeff (who is in fact a cinnamon roll but still a discount Jack) pisses me off. "I tried to tell you." Yeah, right. It's not that hard to say, "Yo, I'm in a relationship."

Jack NEVER should have found out about Jeff the way he did. There's no excuse.

It's not okay, Jack. She did you wrong. You didn't deserve that. Stand up for yourself, man. Gosh, he's so broken here, and I hate it.

"At least we have each other... Don't look at me. I know how weird it sounded." THESE TWO I SWEAR 🤣🤣🤣

Poor Mac. I do love how we get his obsessive tendencies so early in the show, and how they keep coming back, even as late as season 5. As someone with clinically diagnosed OCD, this makes me feel seen and I love being able to relate to my favorite character.

Love the found family antics at the end. Riley and Bozer making dinner while Mac and Jack play basketball? Perfection.

Lol, Bozer calling Riley a "caramel goddess" has such Schmidt/Cece vibes from New Girl, and I dig it!

Ew. More sweat. I know some people find sweaty men attractive, but that is NOT my vibe. I prefer my men clean and freshly laundered.

The way Riley glances back over her shoulder at them as she walks away, as if to make sure they're really there, that this is actually real!!!

"That's not even... that's true, actually. That's sad." Jack 🤣 Also, "I'm hungry." Big mood.

As a Grandpa Harry stan from the OG show, I eat up any mention of him in the new one. I just wish we'd gotten more of that wonderful man in the reboot. Still, I'll take what I can get!

I'd honestly forgotten how much I enjoy this episode! So solid, full of bromance, found family, and lots of good-natured bickering. Can't wait to watch the next one, hopefully tomorrow! In the meantime, please keep fighting for our show! Together we can #savemacgyver!

If anyone wants to join me in my re-watching and tweeting adventure, please do! It's my way to take about an hour a day in my busy, busy life to commit to the #savemacgyver movement. (And to enjoy my favorite show yet again!) If you do tweet as you watch, make sure to tag EVERY tweet with ONLY #savemacgyver so we can keep that hashtag trending! :)

Thanks for letting me share my (numerous) thoughts on this episode. This was really fun, and I hope it's something you all enjoy, too. I'd love to know what you all think of the episode in the comments! ❤️

#macgyver #jack dalton #riley davis #wilt bozer #macgyver rewatch #my thoughts #episode review #save macgyver #we can still save our show #s1e2 #metal saw #emcatreviews #spoilers

[the-mad-starker]

I Don't Need To Know Your Name To Make You Scream Mine

Length: 13,663

2nd RP turned fic written with @starkerkeyz​ 😱 More smut, as promised 😏

Mads💗: this is the most flimsy excuse for sex and I feel like we were everywhere.. from playmating to Peter trying (not so hard) to be innocent. Oh! I'm also using this as a square for @starkerbingo​, yayy. This definitely fills the Slut square on my card.

Keyz 💖: Tony couldn’t keep it in his pants once he caught a scent of that cute little omega intern, what can I say ;) I'm using this as my 500 tumblr follower celebration fic! Thanks so much for the encouragement from such an awesome community!

Warnings: intersex, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, vaginal sex, dirty talk, slutty Peter, lingerie, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding, marking kink, omega/omega, manwhore Tony, possessive SIM, mentions of past Tony/Others

(Ao3 Link - includes Nff moodboard/images)

💗💖💗💖

It's god awful early, 6 AM to be exact but Peter wakes up that early for one reason.

It's his first day going into Stark Industries and there's no way in hell he's going to be late. The issue is… There's a chance he'll meet Mr. Stark so the previous night, he goes to sleep thinking about him… And the next morning, he wakes up still clinging to the remnants of a dream that's too much like the start of a porno scene.

He wakes up and oh, his body aches… Now he's glad it's early enough that he has some time to take care of himself.

Beneath the covers, he starts to rub against his pillow. He's on his side and he feels so good, mind a bit fuzzy from sleep and still imagining Mr. Stark purring in his ear… touching him…

He has to hold back soft whimpers just in case his aunt hears him but it doesn't stop him from slipping his fingers down between his legs. His cocklet is already stiff, peeking out from the lace panties he wore to bed. And even further south, his pussy is already throbbing, desperate to be touched or fucked… God, he wishes Mr. Stark could see him now…

It doesn't take long, it never does when he's thinking about Mr. Stark. He has to bite down on the corner of his pillow, hips twitching needily as he brings himself off with fingers thrusting inside and his cocklet rubbing against cotton.

It only takes a few minutes but he's worked himself up to a sweat. He lets himself bask in the glow for a few minutes before he rolls out of bed, limbs heavy and languid from the exertion. His outfit, previously chosen the night before, hangs on his closet door.

Peter slips into the cute but professional business skirt and buttons up the dress shirt. He almost walks out of his bedroom when he realizes he almost went in commando. At the last moment, he slips on cheeky light blue lace panties.

He thinks about Mr. Stark's blue eyes and shivers in excitement.

The commute to SI goes by in a blur and then he's there… Pepper Potts is waiting for him and all the other incoming interns and he's finally in. Finally one step closer to meeting the omega he's had a crush on since before he even had his first heat.

--

Tony waits for one hour, as Pepper requested, and then steps onto the floor that the interns are having orientation on. 

He’s dressed in a well tailored business suit, professional and domineering, and the form fitting black dress pants hide his silky pink panties. Pepper had said to play nice today so he left the black sheer mesh pair and the blood red peek-a-boo set up in his penthouse. 

Every year he fucks at least three interns on orientation day.

“Go easy on them.” Pepper materializes beside him before he can even begin stalking the pretty scent of cherries through the cubicles and empty offices. 

He turns to her with a small smile and indulgent blue eyes. 

“I’ve already given you your hour.” With that, he heads off. 

The smell from before is so ripe. It makes him think of sinking his teeth into something sticky and juicy. 

As he walks, he allows his senses to spread out, to take in the other interns' scents and orientations. The one he’s going for is an omega but there are a few betas and two alphas. Maybe he’ll try breaking one of the alphas after he’s tasted whatever sticky parts this omega would beg Tony to get his mouth on.

When he spots the kid, he stops. He's standing outside of a normal person’s hearing and scent range but well within the scope of his extremis enhanced senses. He rakes his blue eyes over the lithe body and succulent ass, nanites whirring to life and recording it when the intern bends over and adjusts something on the front of his skirt. 

A heady feeling of heat and ripeness again hits his nose and fills his lungs with longing and arousal. 

This omega looks so sweet and innocent in his skirt and stockings. Tony wants to bend him over and taste that sticky honey scent from between his legs before fucking the sweetness right out of him. 

Peter's nervous on his first day but even he can't ignore the strange tingle of awareness he feels.

It's a familiar feeling and it often indicates when alphas are staring at him. It doesn't exactly set off his Spidey senses but it does make him feel a bit more aware.

He straightens, smoothing away non-existent lines on his skirt. He has a polite but distant smile on his face before turning to confront whoever it is.

When he sees who it is, he freezes. There's no mistaking Mr. Stark for anyone else and Peter almost takes a step back.

He picks up the older omega's scent and it's the first time he's ever smelled anything so alluring. It makes his knees feel weak and he regrets wearing heels today because it only makes him feel unsteady on his feet.

His thighs tense as he presses them together. Peter's never reacted like this with anyone, not even with an alpha. His face feels warm, a soft red flush working its way across his cheeks and down his neck. 

He's getting wet… He hasn't even met Mr. Stark, just gotten a hint of his scent and he's already getting aroused...

Some of the surrounding employees notice, looking up from their desks and discretely sniffing the air. That's what makes Peter take action.

He lowers his eyes but hurries towards the omega bathrooms. He needs some cold water or something to get rid of his inappropriate reaction. 

If Mr. Stark knew how terribly aroused he is just from one whiff of his scent, who knows what the other omega would do… Make fun of him…? Fire him? 

He heads towards the doors, hoping the older omega doesn't catch his scent.

Tony smirks at the reaction. He’s used to people sensing his eyes on them eventually, humans still have that prey instinct inside all of them, but the blushing and fumbling and quick exit is always a treat. 

Would the boy stutter and stammer, too? Would he question it, so sweetly, when Tony slips his hand over his mating gland? Push his legs together and wonder why he's getting so hot down there from another omega?

Would he ask what Tony's doing, while blushing all down his neck when Tony slides his hand up his skirt?

Tony follows after the other omega. 

When he smells the aroused omega pheromones and beginning of slick, his dick starts stirring. His pussy has already been hot since he looked through the photos of all his interns for this year. He’s got some beautiful candidates and one of them smells mouth watering when they’re horny. 

He gets to the bathrooms and makes the decision to give them some alone time. He logs into his security AI with a blink and makes sure all prying eyes will be diverted to the other bathrooms on the opposite side of the floor. Pepper will know it’s him; this won’t even be the first time he’s fucked an intern in this very bathroom.

Her hour is up and he doesn’t care. 

This omega is going to learn the taste of his slick and the feel of his cock at the back of their throat by the end of this little meeting they’re about to have.

Inside the bathroom, Peter immediately heads into one of the stalls. He pushes his skirt up and God, he's dripping. His panties are soaked but instead of grimacing, Peter just feels even more turned on.

It's almost noon… Would anyone notice if he took some time in the bathroom? There's an itch beneath his skin and Mr. Stark is to blame…

Peter can't go back out there smelling like pent up sexual frustration… And here he thought that getting off once this morning would've curbed his appetite.

He bites down on his bottom lip, remembering how Mr. Stark had looked. So smart and just sexy as fuck standing there… And his scent…

The omega presses a palm against his cocklet, shifting his weight from foot to foot just to feel his thighs rub together.

He'll do it fast… No one would even notice he was gone. He leans against the stall wall, breath turning shallow as he pushes his hand into his pantyhose and underwear… Slips a single finger between his wet pussylips and stifles the soft moan he wants to let out.

Tony opens the door and is hit with the intense smell of aroused omega slick. His brain translates the scent into that ripe cherry smell from earlier and he can't help grinning to himself. 

"Are you alright in there?" He calls out over the noise of the door locking behind him. There's only one stall with the door shut. He leans against the sinks in front of it.

Peter has two fingers in, knuckles deep, when he hears that familiar voice. It's only familiar because he's watched every single footage of Tony Stark that's ever been recorded and even some that aren't exactly meant for public consumption.

He freezes, heart racing in his chest and tries to slowly, quietly, extract his fingers. The wet sounds they make slipping from his pussy sounds so loud to his ears. He can only hope that the other omega doesn't realize what he's interrupting.

Through the crack in the door, Tony can see the shape of a shoulder and dark, businesslike fabric. He hears something sticky and wet and  traces his eyes downward. He spots that skirt from before, shifting into place almost guiltily. 

Even better. 

"My name is Tony Stark." Like the kid doesn't already know. 

He likes playing dumb and kindhearted to the interns who don't know him. He kind of loves the starstruck reaction he gets from the fannish ones when he introduces himself. 

He imagines this omega having the same reaction and can feel the blue of his nanites flaring. Then he imagines getting his hands under that skirt and curls his fingers in anticipation. He can't wait to get a taste from the source. 

"Do you need some help?"

Peter has a mini panic attack right there. Of course, he knows it's Stark but– Why did he have to walk into this particular bathroom? Amidst all that, he does feel pleased that he's getting attention from the older man… Even if it's the kind that would humiliate him if Stark finds out how much he looks up to him.

"I'm fine!" He replies hastily, "Just needed a minute… I'm, ah, one of the new interns… Just nervous…"

Peter pauses, hoping his boss is just being nice and now that he's done his duty, he'll leave.

"I'll be out in a minute," he says to reassure the other omega. "Don't mind me, please, sir."

Another pause. He doesn't even move since he's straining his ears to hear what Stark does.

Tony perks up from the fresh wave of scent that comes from behind the door. Now he knows the primary gender of his intended omega conquest. He was going to bend this omega over and wreck their pussy regardless if they had a dick or a clit to pair with, but it’s nice to imagine the cocklet he’s going to be stroking soon.  

He crosses his ankles and his arms, amusement coloring his expression. Only concern makes it into his voice when he speaks. 

"I'll wait for you. It's no trouble and I like to get to know my interns." Tony wishes Pepper were here so she could smack his shoulder with exasperation for that one. Pepper is the only one willing to call him out on his shit anymore. 

Peter doesn't know what to say to that. Maybe if it's just another intern or something, he would've told them to mind their own business, but this is Tony Stark.

He doesn't want to risk offending the older man in some way… Peter just hopes that even if Stark can tell he's a bit off, he won't be obnoxious.

"O-Okay," Peter finally relents, steeling his nerves as he prepares to leave the stall.

He grabs some tissues and wipes the slick off his fingers. Tosses it into the toilet and quickly tries to make himself presentable.

Tony looks down at the swaying fabric of the other omega's skirt and imagines pushing him over the sink at Tony's back. He could flip that skirt up and expose whatever underwear the little minx is wearing beneath. He could pull it to the side and stuff two fingers inside instead. 

He could make the omega moan his name just as sweet and flustered as he called him 'sir'.

The toilet flushes and then the stall door cracks open.

Peter slips out of the stall, pressed against the door with his eyes looking away demurely. When he glances up, he sees that his boss is right there, directly in front of him.

"Mr. Stark," Peter murmurs respectfully. "I'd, ah, offer to shake your hand but…"

The reason is left unsaid but Peter then heads to the sink next to the watching omega. He wants to put more distance between them but his avoidance is too obvious with that… So, he pretends like nothing's wrong.

Don't look, don't look, don't look…

Peter dares to glance at the other omega and his face feels warm again.

Tony has to avoid the urge to eat him up right then and there. The way the omega blushes and can’t seem to look him in the eye, combined with the smell of his arousal floating between them, makes Tony want to shred the skirt to pieces. He’d make him walk around SI with his juicy pussy on display.

He puts all those thoughts away and turns his body to crowd up close to the kid, schooling himself into the persona of a caring mentor.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Tony’s hand comes to rest on the omega’s lower back, just above the hemline to the skirt. If he pushes, he could pin the other omega down into a presentation right here. 

Peter's eyes dart to Tony's. Wide honey brown and soft pink lips tremble at the touch.

“I promise Pepper doesn’t bite.” Tony smiles like he’s told a funny joke. His thumb rubs, friendly and soothing, hiking the shirt up in the process. He acts like it’s all perfectly normal and sets his thumb on the newly exposed skin. 

"Mr. Stark…" Peter breathes. 

Just that single touch has his body heating up. Warmth spreads from where the older omega is touching him and Peter just knows how obvious he is. He knows Stark knows too… The way the older man looks at him, as though Peter's something to be devoured, gives it all away.

Peter's scent is telling Mr. Stark everything.

"I don't think it's Ms. Potts I should be worried about," Peter says in a whisper, more to himself than to the older man.

He tries to step back, to retreat, because he's one second away from just advancing and pressing himself against his boss. One second away from giving away that he'd let the older man do anything to him…

"T-Thank you for your concern, sir," he ducks his head, "I should get back– I'm supposed to find… to find…"

There's a senior employee he should be shadowing on his first day and he knows the name. But with Stark's scent tripping up his mind, that name eludes him now.

Tony doesn’t pull his hand away from the brunette’s back when he tries to make his escape. Instead, Tony brings his free hand up and cups the boy’s chin. He pulls him up firmly; it hardly takes any prompting before he’s moving along with Tony’s wishes, anyway. 

Such an obedient omega.

“Don’t worry about them. I’m going to be your mentor at Stark Industries, now.” Tony leans above the shorter omega, loving the way the kid melts into his space instead of pulling back. “You’ll report to me for the duration of your internship with my company, or Pepper if I’m not available.”

Tony’s pinky finger dips teasingly below the hem of the skirt at the same time his thumb rubs a circle into bare skin. Peter's breath hitches in response and he sways forward, wide eyes blinking slowly. A bit starstruck.

"If you, ah… If you think that's best," Peter murmurs. 

He doesn't know what to do with his hands… But one, he places hesitatingly on the other omega's arm, a featherlight touch.

"I'd be honored to work under you, sir," Peter says truthfully, breathlessly. 

He can't look away… Mr. Stark is so close and doesn't seem too bothered by their proximity. He's even the one initiating it.

Tony's grip on the kid’s chin is firm but nowhere near hard. 

“Just look at you.” Tony locks his blue enhanced gaze onto soft brown and sees the heat and the longing he’d hoped to find. His lips curl up at the edges, showing teeth. “What were you doing before I got in here?”

"I…" Peter bites his lip. His face burns because he was touching himself, trying to get off so he'd stop smelling like an omega in heat, ready to be fucked. "I was just trying to calm down a little bit…"

They're so close… Peter could just lean forward and he'd be able to kiss the other omega. He wants to so badly but… but…

His grip tightens on Stark's arm.

"Mr. Stark… What are you doing…?" He questions boldly. 

His voice still has that breathless quality to it. That and a hint of pleading, as though Peter wants whatever this is to happen but worries it might be in his head. 

Tony’s cocklet hardens beneath soft panties and hidden lace. He wants, simultaneously, to keep stringing this pretty little thing along with the kind and caring act; but also to spin him around and bend him over for Tony to plow into right then and there. 

He looks so soft. He smells so ripe.

His; all for the taking.

“I’m just taking care of you. Omega to omega.”

Peter wants to protest. He can take care of himself but the words don't leave his lips. All he can do is watch, heart pounding away and body heating up quickly beneath his new mentor's attention.

Tony leans in close to the kid’s wrist near his arm. He locks blue eyes onto brown and then inhales the omega’s pheromones from one of the most potent of sources. His pupils blow out from the scent of sex and heat and the punch of arousal that overcomes him when he notices a small, glistening streak of omegan slick on the outer edge of the kid’s forearm. 

It smells like cherries.

Tony lets go of the younger man’s chin and drags his arm back to himself so that he could drag his tongue across the smear of recent slick, never breaking his gaze from the other omega. He grinned and licked his lips.

“You missed a spot.”

"Mr. Stark…! That's…" Peter can only stare, wide-eyed, as the other omega's tongue slips over his skin.

His body reacts, how can it not? All those things that say only alphas are made for omegas are so, so wrong. Peter shifts his weight from foot to foot, pressing his thighs together because he's getting wet again…

"Mr. Stark… I don't think this is helping..." he murmurs but he doesn't pull away. If anything, his scent deepens and his body relaxes. He's giving in and so easily too…

There's just something about the older omega that has Peter going all soft and sweet for him. His hand curls inwards so his fingertips brush along Stark's hair.

“No? How about this?” Tony pulls him in close with a flex of the hand that hadn’t left the small of his back this entire time. He hooks the other omega’s arm around his neck so they’re chest to chest and breathing the same air. Down below, he can feel an answering bulge against his stiffened cock. 

Peter manages to muffle a moan before it makes it out of his mouth. His hips twitch forward, getting more of that friction he sorely needs. Pressed chest to chest… Every part of him comes alive, feels heated where they're touching.

“You came in here to take the edge off, right, sweetheart?” Tony pushes lightly at the young omega’s back with his fingertips, urging him to rock without words. He nudges the kid’s thighs apart by pressing himself in-between. His voice becomes edged with a low purr of satisfaction when the skirt starts getting hiked up slender legs one delicious inch at a time. 

Peter's hyper aware of everything going on and he shouldn't… they shouldn't… But it feels so good. He doesn't want to stop this.

Mr. Stark is nothing like an omega is taught to be but that sweet scent says he is.

Peter's never gotten so wet for someone like this. He wants Stark to touch him, wants to spread his legs for him...

“As your mentor, it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable here at SI.” Tony runs his unoccupied hand up the lithe omega’s side, bunching his shirt up and exposing a low curve of wickedly defined abdominal. Tony’s cocklet flexed and leaked thinking about rutting against the washboard set of abs that promised to be.

Tony’s own smell of omegan arousal is beginning to spice the air around them. As much as he wants to fuck this young omega into the ground, his pussy's getting wet alongside his cocklet's stiffness. 

Maybe he’d make this omega reach back and finger him at the same time? He looks flexible enough. 

“Playmating is just part of the deal, right? Or maybe a little more, if you’re a needy little thing.” Tony nips at his smooth jawline, teeth getting so close to the scent-tender gland behind his ear. The brunette in his arms doesn’t fight or pull away from Tony’s slowly advancing biting. He sucks the gland between his small fangs. “Which I think you are.”

"Playmating… that's… what we're doing...?" Peter gasps, tilting his head to give the older man more access.

Words are hard to reach but his body talks for him.

A violent shiver shakes his body and he clings ever closer to his mentor. His hips start to rock. It's not a deliberate action, he's just chasing after what feels good. The weight of Stark's hands on him only makes the reactions worse.

He wants Stark to touch him all over…

The hard, solid thigh between his own feels good too… With the way Peter's rubbing against him, it's only inevitable that the wetness between his legs starts soaking into Stark's slacks.

Even with that knowledge, Peter can't stop moving against him.

“Yes. And you’re doing so well, gorgeous.” 

Tony barely has to put any pressure against the kid’s back to keep him moving now. He can feel how excited this is making the younger man and his eagerness is only fueling Tony’s ego. He nuzzles the bite marks he’s littered across pale skin.

“You’re already acting like a slut in heat for me.” Tony finally gives in and moves the hand not guiding his young mentee into rutting filthy and needy on his thigh; he places it on the swell of a fantastic skirt covered ass. He squeezes, pulling the fabric even higher up on that side, and purrs louder from the bouncy handful. 

Peter whimpers at the touch, fingers curling, nails biting into his palms. He pushes back against it, inviting his boss to do more. Squeeze, grab, play… Touch him there and find out just how wet he's become.

Everything about this omega is so sexy. It makes Tony want to keep him long past orientation day.

“Are you feeling like you could bend over for me? Am I making you wet, thinking about how empty you are without me?” Tony breaths against wet skin and the ticklish little hairs behind his ear. He kissed lightly. “That’s how it should be, baby. You’re meant to give me your slutty little hole whenever I want it.”

The tips of Peter's ears are bright red from the other omega's words. The way they're said, as though they were simply facts, really turns him on. He's always been a needy little thing but it's always been something he's kept to himself. He's had his fingers, his toys… But someone else doing this to him…?

It lights a sweltering fire inside him and he burns to do what Stark wants. 

Besides… They're both omegas… And if it's truly playmating, this is okay, isn't it? Stark, as a more experienced omega, is only trying to guide him. Perhaps the older man sees how badly Peter needs it…

"I've never–" he whimpers again. His face feels so hot… "Never presented to anyone… before… sir…"

With how weak his knees feel, he's not even sure he can but if Mr. Stark asks it of him…

"I can try…?" He murmurs even as he rubs himself against the older man's thigh.

It feels so strong and solid beneath him. Every bit of friction pushes his sense of propriety further and further away until all that matters is the hungry blue of his mentor's eyes.

Tony hadn’t thought the kid would go that far for him already. The desperation and willingness to please make his pupils swell out until only an icy aurora of glowing blue remains. Suddenly, the thought of walking this kid through his first presentation (and mounting) makes his pussy hotter than ever.

“For me? You’re so perfect, darling. Of course, you can try.” Tony gropes his ass with shameless abandon, digging his fingers in low and center. He cups upwards and feels exquisite heat and wetness on his first two fingers. He flexes his thigh to give the kid something even better to hump.

Peter shudders and promptly forgets what he's planning to do. Stark's hands feel too good for him to jeopardize stopping it. Instead, he makes helpless soft moans, trying to keep it quiet because everything in the bathroom echoes and…

He's so hot for this, he doesn't even care if people outside hear them. In fact, it only makes him drip even more and his arms curl even tighter around Stark's neck. Whatever this is… even if it's temporary or just playmating, Peter wants it.

“You respond so beautifully. I love how wet you get for me, gorgeous.” Tony lays it on thick and kisses his way down to that unbroken cherry of a mating gland. It’s whorish to bite and leave marks without breaking and mating. Pepper meant exactly this when she told him to play nice. He smiles as he lines his teeth up and pulls the lithe young thing tighter into him. “Just relax. I’m taking care of you now. And you’re doing so well for me.” 

Tony bites down.

Peter cries out at the sting of teeth but a curious thing happens. It feels even better. He feels the gush of slick drip down his thighs and he whimpers, staring at the other omega with wide, almost teary eyes.

He curls his hand into the older man's hair and urges him back to that sensitive spot.

"Again– Oh… Please, I–" He's lost his ability to string words together so all he does is continue to rock against Stark's thigh like a bitch in heat. "Please… Bite…"

“Of course, sweetheart. Since you asked so sweetly and you’re being so good for me.” Tony praises directly against the sensitized mating gland below his omegan fangs. He bites down again, the power over this other omega feeling as heady as fine wine. 

It's pure bliss and Peter's face contorts in pleasure. Lips trembling and eyes squeezed shut, dark lashes fluttering as he shudders through the pleasure.

Peter’s breaths come in shallow and his body feels so hot. He doesn't even recall his heat being like this, a sweltering force that leaves him shaking with need.

Tony rubs his two fingers deeper into sopping wet folds. He’s only a few layers away from where he’ll be burying his cocklet in a few minutes. But, much as he loves watching the kid fall apart on his thigh, Tony wants him bent over the sink so he’s facing the mirrors. Tony likes to watch the faces of his conquests when he fucks them from behind and this kid is, by far, too gorgeous not to watch squirm and beg for it. 

“Let’s get you presenting, baby boy. You’re more than ready for me. So nice and wet. You’re so slutty and ready for my cock to fill you up, aren’t you, baby?” Tony maneuvers his hands so one is in soft brown hair and directing the young omega’s gaze downward; the other snakes down between them to grip Tony’s cocklet through the dress slacks. He squeezes tight enough to bulge the veins of his calloused hand. “Tell me how much you want to taste this.”

"Oh…" Peter moans.

He can't look away. His mouth waters at the sight. He's felt Stark's cock press against him, proof that the older man is just as affected as he is, but seeing it…

Peter wants it, needs it… He wants to drop on his knees to get Stark's cock in his mouth, look up at him with pleading eyes, and just let the older omega fuck his face. His fantasies run rampant and he almost cried ‘because he wants so much…

His pussy feels so empty though and it squeezes right, desperately, in search of a nice cock to lock onto. He whimpers and reaches down with a trembling hand but stops himself from touching it.

If he does, he might fall on his knees. They certainly feel weak enough.

Tony watches the kid’s internal struggle with hunger burning like a bright blue flame in his eyes. He doesn’t give him any direction; he wants to see what he’ll do on his own. Tony can see how much he’s trembling. The smell of cherries perfumes the air between them and makes Tony want to eat him up.

Peter pulls himself away and losing Stark's warmth even for a few seconds has him shivering.

Peter, when he leans over the sink, doesn't even recognize the face he sees in the mirror. His face is flushed and there are deep red marks prominent on his pale skin. It's almost a shock to see them but Peter purrs at the sight.

Stark's bite marks…

His skirt has been hitched up. His entire outfit is a mess and he doesn't care one bit. He leans his weight on his upper body and reaches behind to push it up even further. Pantyhose and the light blue of his panties are exposed.

He looks over his shoulder, eyes pleading at the other omega.

"Alpha…" His voice comes out honey sweet, pleading for the older omega to mount him. "Ready for you…"

Tony growls lowly at the title and steps up behind the sweetly presented ass. He pushes the fabric of the skirt completely out of the way and palms both cheeks at once, pulling the other omega apart even though Tony can’t see anything but the shapely outline through the panties and pantyhose. 

With Stark touching and squeezing his ass, Peter's hands return to the counter. His entire body feels tight with anticipation, eyes watching what the older omega does through the mirror.

Peter feels a rush of heat shoot through him when he sees Stark looking, taking him in. He's not even completely naked. The underwear and pantyhose are still in place, but he might as well be with how tightly they cling to his body.

And they're drenched with slick, sopping wet with proof of how much he's turned on...

“You’re doing such a good job being my little slut. It’s like you were born to bend over for me. I hardly have to train you at all, do I?” Tony undoes the buttons to his slacks with one hand and then goes back to groping and squeezing at the handfuls of firm ass he’s got under his fingers. His pink panties look incredible against the other omega’s blue pair when he ruts his cock against the tipped up offering on display for him.

Peter tries to push back against it, wants to feel the dirty press of another omega's cock against him. He catches the motion in the mirror, how Stark's hips move, a slow and teasing grind against his needy pussy.

"Mr. Stark…" It's a soft plea, almost a whine.

“You bend over so pretty for me. I can smell how much you like being my whore. You already got your slick on my suit pants and now your slutty pussy is dripping all over my panties and cock. I’ll bet you’re being such a good omega and all you can think about is getting stuffed by my cock.” 

Tony’s starts thrusting against the younger omega as he speaks, cocklet driving into his folds through so little material but still not inside. He uses his grip on the brunette’s firm ass to hold him in place and spread him open at once. 

Both of their panties are ruined with their combining slick.

Peter feels the hot press of bare skin even through the thin layers and he whines, a soft cry tinged with desperation.

It's too much of a tease for the young omega. His cheek presses against the cool countertop but it does nothing to satisfy the heat inside him.

He throws a hand back and has Stark's wrist in an awkward grip.

"Please, sir," Peter manages to breath out, "I can't take it…"

Tony looks down to where the omega’s holding onto him so desperately. He doesn’t shake him off and instead chuckles, low and dark, when he witnesses the fumbling, heat drunk and fuck clumsy attempts to undress himself that follow. There’s something about seeing someone get cock stupid for his dick that makes him preen.

Peter attempts to shove the interfering layers off but the angle doesn't help. He wiggles in place in frustration, wishing he had forgone the stockings and just worn his panties instead. At least those, he could just slip to the side… Entice the older man into acting with a glimpse of his pink pussy.

But he's at Stark's mercy, bent over the bathroom sink, and being teased to tears…

"Please, f-fuck my pussy, sir," Peter chokes out. 

Peter feels like he'll combust from sheer humiliation because he's never said such dirty things, not even in his head.

“Well, since you are begging like you’re meant to and you bent over for me like a good boy, I think you do deserve something nice.” Tony rips the pantyhose right down the center. He cups the younger omega’s pussy with only the blue panties as a barrier. 

Peter whines at the rough treatment but it's not a complaint. His stockings… There's something so primal and arousing about having them torn while he's still wearing them.

He stares at Stark through the mirror and just wants.

The words come out in a rush, each one so close to begging.

"Need it, Mr. Stark… Please– It feels so…" Peter whines and tries to push back against the pressure he feels against his hole. "Please, use me…"

“These look so gorgeous on you, baby boy. I don’t want to ruin them just yet.” 

He rubs his fingers deep into soaked wet folds and grinds the heel of his palm into the dripping hole from the outside. Every brush of his fingertips against the panty covered and cherry-scent soaked material makes the omega clench and gasp above him. 

“You’re such a good whore. Don’t stop begging for me; I want to hear every dirty thing your slutty pussy craves. Slip these off for me and set them to the side. Leave the pantyhose on.” 

Tony playfully slaps the same sensitive spots he’s been caressing before snapping the hem of the pretty blue panties. This omega’s pussy is meant to be speared open on his cocklet and he can’t wait to sink himself inside without any barriers. 

Oh, Peter loves what Stark is doing to him. He just wants to let the other omega do whatever he wants but what Peter doesn't want is for Stark to stop.

The words make his mouth tremble.

Whore.

He shouldn't be so aroused at such a degrading term, but he is. His pussy aches, clenches and squeezes around nothing, and his stiff cocklet rubs against the counter.

Stark can call him whatever he wants and as Peter pushes himself up just the tiniest bit to obey, he considers it true. His fingers slip through the ripped pantyhose and grab hold of blue lace.

Peter doesn't question what he's doing even once. Just discards the last thing that had kept him decent.

Tony watches the omega obey him and clocks the way he’s shaking like Tony is his next fix as he slides the drenched cloth down his own trembling thighs. They’re crumpled up and put beside the sink the kid’s leaning over without a second thought and Tony’s cocklet burns to get inside.

This time, when Peter resumes his previous position, the omega presents properly. He reaches back and spreads himself open, a fierce but captivating blush on his face.

"Here…" Peter murmurs, looking over his shoulder to plead with the older omega. "...Play with me here, please, sir…"

His pretty pink pussy is on display but his gaze is fixed on Stark's hungry blue eyes. He shudders as need makes his body clench down, more slick and wetness dripping out of him.

“Tell me what you need.” Tony cups him like he did before, hissing at how soaked his hand gets from finally touching this lithe young omega’s pussy directly. He slaps the puffy lips again and dips his thumb into the wet folds, circling the hungry opening with his thickest digit while his other fingers massage and roll through the copious slick gushing across his hand. 

There's only one thing Peter wants when he gets like this…when he gets so scent drunk and aroused that nothing matters. Not his dignity, not some thought that he should be careful… He just wants.

"Alpha… please… breed my s-slutty pussy…" Peter begs breathlessly. "Feels so empty… Fuck me, breed me, sir–"

“That’s it. Good boy, omega.” Tony slips his own panties down enough to untuck his cocklet and balls. His pussy aches to be filled but he wants to fuck this omega more than he wants to be fucked by him. Maybe next time.

He uses the omega’s own slick to lube himself, stroking the heady scent right into his cock and making his dick leak harder. His other hand comes to rest on the boy’s lower back, right where it had been earlier. This time, he pins the kid down like he’d been craving to do ever since the first hint of cherries tickled his nose.

“Don’t stop presenting for me now. It’s going to feel so, so good, but I want you to keep holding yourself open and telling me what your greedy pussy wants.” 

Tony lines up and finally starts pushing inside. 

It’s as hot and sweet as he’d been imagining. 

Peter's entire body is tense as he braces himself for the initial penetration. A soft sound comes out of him, a gasped out "ah–" and his hands dig deeper into his own flesh. He's trying so hard to be good, to keep his pussy presented nicely for Stark to fuck.

“Fuck, sweetheart, your pussy was meant for my cock, wasn’t it? Such a perfect little whore for me.” Tony bottoms out quickly, balls slapping into shivering and jumping skin. 

Peter's pussy squeezes down in a vicious grip as though it's already trying to milk a knot out on the first thrust.

His fingers turn into claws and he gets his first real cock... It's different from his toys. So much more different.

There's a body pressing against his, soft, heated flesh against his aching pussy. And inside... Stark's cocklet is spreading him apart, hard and undeniable. Bare...

He squeezes down on it, memorizing the shape and feel of the other omega's cock. A soft whine starts up in his chest. He's finally getting fucked by Mr. Stark but somehow, it's still not enough. The need only grows, pressure coiling in his belly as he tries to weather through the intense sensations.

It's more than he ever thought he'd get from his idol but, it's not enough.

And somehow, Stark knows this.

The other omega’s skin is twitching like a horse’s everywhere Tony touches and every time Tony calls him a whore. A wicked smile slowly curls his lips.

“You love being my whore. I can tell; your pussy is sucking me in so greedy and eager. Ready to be bred by me. Craving my pup in your belly. You’ll only need to remember the feel of my cock in your needy pussy for the rest of your internship here.” Tony fucks into him hard enough his hip bones knock against the counter the sink is mounted to. He digs his fingers into soft skin and does it again, harder. “You’ll only live for getting my cock inside of you after this. You belong to me now and you’ll only come on my cock or not at all.”

It's overwhelming for Peter but he goes into autopilot, his body moving in an attempt to learn Stark's rhythm. It's tempting for the younger omega to just lay there and let Stark fuck him into a limp mess. But his body responds with needy whimpers as he tries to push back, tries to chase after the cock spearing him open every time Stark pulls back.

The older omega's words give life to his deepest desires and he echoes them, mind hazy with unprecedented need.

"Love it…! Ah! My– pussy loves it!" Peter agrees. His eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure threatens to steal his words away. "Loves your c-cock, M-Mr. Stark! Needs it, needs it every day…! Please– Wanna be full of Mr. Stark's cum… Wanna feel it dripping down my legs…"

He whines at his own words, desperate and hungry to be filled. His ears burn at the sound of their mating and the obscene words spilling from his mouth.

“Of course you need it every day. A needy little whore like you? I’ll have Pepper send you up on coffee runs so I can fill you up with load after load of my cum.” Tony thrusts steadily, cocklet fucking in as deep as he can get it on each pump inwards. His balls swing and slap with the power behind his pistoning cock.

"Breed me, alpha, breed my pussy," Peter begs even as he's getting fucked. "Wanna feel you… come inside… Please come inside…"

He's so wet that he can feel his boss's cock just slide right in, no resistance. And he feels it when Stark pulls away, his walls protesting at the loss, clinging onto the other omega's cocklet and begging it to stay inside.

“Your pussy is going to take every drop. You’re going to hold in this load until I’m ready to give you more this afternoon.” Tony leans over the round ass bouncing under his brutal fucking. He reaches up and buries his clean hand into soft brown hair, pulling so the kid’s neck is arched, baring it for the mirror. Tony can see the dark bruises of his teeth around the unbroken mating gland and tugs.

Pain and pleasure overlap and Peter's drunk off it. His head tilts back and it feels so dangerously vulnerable to offer his unprotected neck.

It feels right too… The way Stark holds him down and takes control is just like an alpha. The way he sucks bruises into Peter's skin is too. Everything the older omega does appeals to Peter's omegan instincts and they all scream at him to submit. To let this superior man have him and breed him up with his pups.

“You’re going to wear my bruises and everyone is going to know how easily you gave it up to me. Everyone will know that you’re my personal whore. They’ll all know you belong to me; your pussy is mine to stuff and wreck and you’ll give it to me whenever I want it.” Tony hauls him up enough to bite him again. He doesn’t care if he’s pushing his flexibility too much. The omega will learn to bend himself in half if Tony wills it. 

Peter cries out at the sting of teeth and his body convulses. Right over his mating gland… Still not deep enough to break but it was enough to have his pussy clamping down, rippling and massaging along the other omega's cock.

What pushes him over the edge is the change in position. He's pulled upright and the next time Stark's cock sinks into him, it hits that sweet spot inside him that makes him see stars.

He comes just from that, body rigid as his neglected cocklet releases. He rides the wave of pleasure for only a few seconds before he goes limp, body easily falling into whatever position Stark wants him in. The unbearable pressure in his belly has dissipated but he still feels that warmth, growing and starting up again with every thrust.

With his back arched and one hand still holding himself open, Peter drags the other arm to curve around Stark's neck. He doesn't have the strength to keep his mentor close but he doesn't need to.

They're already pressed so intimately together, Stark's cock pounding away at his hungry pussy.

"More…" Peter implores, "Ah– Need more… Please, Mr. Stark…" 

His eyelashes flutter like he's about to pass out and his head lolls back against the other omega's chest. 

"Need my cum in you? Need to feel full and bred?" Tony pants the words into the fresh ring of teeth marks he's left along the pale throat. He can last longer if he wants; the nanobots rushing through his body guve him an absurd amount of control over himself. 

He doesn't want to for this omega. For this needy little thing, he wants to pump him full of seed now and then do it again before he leaves for the day. 

Tony reaches around and grips the softening cocklet, stroking relentlessly, licking and sucking at the younger omega's throat when he cries out from overstimulation. 

"Beg me for it. Beg me to come in your slutty hole." Tony rams in, feeling the body in his arms get pushed up onto his toes from the force of it. Tony does it again, balls tight where they bounce against tightly coiled muscle and hot skin. 

"Beg to be my omega."

Peter gives a low moan as he's roughly fucked. His body's more than willing to be his mentor's toy and his eyes are glassy, mouth gasping the next words.

"Wanna be… Mr. Stark's omega…" Peter agrees in breathless pants. His entire body feels pushed to the limit already, especially with his cocklet being played with, even now.

He ignores it. The desire to please his mentor and boss overrides any physical discomfort he feels.

"Please, sir… Please," he begs so prettily, mindlessly babbling now, "Claim me– fill me… up! Please…!"

He's intentionally squeezing down now, moaning from the shocks of pleasure he feels when the older omega's cock sinks in deep. His poor, spent cock twitches in Stark's hand, coaxed back into hardness by the dual assault. 

His pussy… His cock… Peter groans, giving himself to the demanding sensations.

“Good slut,” Tony praises. 

He bites another mark into him and circles his thumb across the wet cockhead. Sweat beads under his suit. He could taste an answering salt on his tongue and behind his teeth. The bathroom echoes with the obscenely loud sounds of unrestrained fucking. His lips curl up over small omegan fangs, eyes glowing.

“Take this load, baby, and later, I’ll give you another.” Tony shoves himself inside with a snarl and comes thick ropes of cum as deep as he can get it. 

"Ah–!" The sound Peter makes is high pitched and shocked when he feels his boss come inside.

It's a flood of searing heat and Peter feels every minute twitch and pulse as the other omega empties inside him.

"Oh, fuck…" Peter gasps as he pushes back hard. He wants that cock as deep inside him as possible. His eyes squeeze shut as his body works on squeezing out every drop.

Tony squeezes his hand around the omega’s cocklet, stroking even faster. 

Peter's torn between fucking into his boss's hand and milking the cocklet inside him. He wants to be filled more than he wants to be touched though, so the younger omega only gives half hearted thrusts when Stark jerks him off.

Apparently, even that is enough for his eager body. Being fucked full and having his sensitive cock played with… Peter moans, almost miserably when his body shudders and gives in once more.

He ends up leaning forward, hands catching the counter so he doesn't just slide down to the floor. They're still pressed together, but just that little bit of space is enough to have his freshly fucked pussy leaking slick and cum.

His thighs are a mess with their combined fluids ...

Tony only slows down once the cock in his palm shoots off, purring in satisfaction. He looks down to where they’re joined and nudges his hips in further, feeling how wet and filthy the kid’s pussy is with Tony’s cum and watching the slick dripping back out of him. 

Tony slaps his palm down on one pantyhose covered cheek, groaning from the immediate tightening and the way his ass bounces so beautifully in the ripped up material.

"Mmph!" Peter gasps at the slap but he doesn't protest, only tightens down on Stark's cock.

“Mine. My whore. My omega.” Tony grinds himself in with each statement. 

"Yours…" Peter echos. 

His legs feel unsteady but even then, he keeps himself upright. He loves the omega cock inside him, loves how Stark is pushing his cum in deep even when he feels more of it dripping down his thighs.

Tony lets go of the kid’s hair to scoop up some of the cum that’s trying to slide out around his softening cock. He brings it up and rubs the glistening white into the dark bruising on the omega’s mating gland. Nobody would question who this little slut belongs to.

Peter groans at the touch. His mating gland feels swollen and hot… He reaches up to grip the older omega's stained fingers and leads them to his mouth.

His tongue curls over them, licking up the slick and cum… Moaning as he shows his boss how much he loves all this. Shows him how much of a slut Peter wants to be for him. His pussy doesn't want to be empty, still wants more after being fucked full.

He gives a needy whine.

"Mr. Stark…" he murmurs. "I still want…"

“Still want more of my cock? You really are the perfect slut for me.” Tony lets the kid suck on his fingers as he brings his other hand up and cups the front of his throat. He feels the movement of muscles under his hold as the young omega works his fingers, an Adam’s apple bobbing against Tony’s broad palm. 

“If you’re still hungry for my cock, then you’re going to use that pretty mouth to get me ready to fuck your pussy again. Or maybe I’ll fuck your tight little ass this time around?” Tony rubs his softened cock against the other omega’s filthy passage, not willing to slide out yet from the warm wetness even as overstimulation prickles along his cocklet and pools in his pelvis.

Peter moans around the fingers and sucks on them, a preview of what he wants to do if his boss really wants him on his knees.

Tony pulls his fingers out and tightens his grip on the soft flesh of his throat. He brings his hand down in another playful slap to ripped pantyhose, squeezing the firm muscle with a purr. He leaves a sheen of saliva across the reddened handprint. 

The slap is just as surprising as the first, but this time, Peter isn't surprised by the rush of pleasure that follows.

He makes a soft sound, appreciative and wiggles in place like an excited puppy being given attention.

“You do have such a fantastic ass. Without a plug, your pussy will drip two loads back out, but you’ll be able to hold it in both holes at once, right, baby boy?” Tony says the question with a tone of praise and grinds his soft cocklet in a slow circle. He loves the sounds of pleasure he catches in his fingers, still wrapped around the omega’s slender throat. 

"If you want me to…" Peter bites his bottom lip as he tries to keep his words steady. "You'll… ah… have to just… fill me up again, Mr. Stark…"

He can't decide which appeals to him more… Feeling his boss's cum drip out of him or feeling it inside him… He doesn't give much thought to it yet, not when he still has a chance to get another load.

Reluctantly, he moves so that the other omega's cocklet slips out of it. He despises the feeling and wants nothing more than to have it back inside… but Mr. Stark gave him an order.

He turns so he's pressed chest to chest with the older man. Looks up at him with hungry eyes even as he reaches down and takes a hold of his mentor's soft cock.

It's so wet, dripping with both of them… Peter's slick and remnants of cum.

He murmurs his next words, high on sex, high on the other omega's scent.

"Please use my mouth, sir," he purrs, "Want another load… In my pussy… in my ass… Whichever you want, just let me have it…"

Then he sinks down to his knees and opens his mouth as an offering to the other man with his little pink tongue just waiting to taste it all.

“Oh, baby boy, I’m going to keep you to that.” Tony pets through the boy’s hair, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of him kneeling, his skirt fluttering back in place so the rips and cum doesn’t show and he almost could pass for innocent again. 

“Lift your skirt up. Spread your thighs and keep your skirt up so I can see how hard your slutty cocklet gets sucking mine.” 

It's the first time Peter shows any sign of hesitation.

It's one thing for Mr. Stark to take control and take what he wants from Peter… It's quite another for Peter to do those things himself.

But he does them and as he starts to drag his skirt up, his cocklet twitches and starts to fill. He really is an insatiable little thing and his face feels hot with every inch of skin he reveals.

"Like this, Mr. Stark?" Peter murmurs.

His skirt is bunched up around his hips, thighs spread, the ripped stockings showing flashes of pale skin beneath. Between his legs, his cocklet is flushed a pretty pink, already starting to drip in arousal.

He makes a lewd picture on his knees with his marked up throat and fucked out appearance. Some part deep inside of him wishes Tony could take a picture, proof of what the other omega had done to him...

Tony presses his soft cock to the omega’s lips, tracing the damp slit around plump lips before resting it along the offered tongue, cum and slick and all. 

Peter sighs in relief, holding still and letting the other omega do as he wants.

“Beautiful,” Tony murmurs, blue eyes recording every sheen of fluid and flushed red patch of skin next to finger bruises and teeth marks. The kid looks wrecked to hell and back. They can’t have been in here that long yet since Pepper hasn’t come knocking and his AI hasn’t flashed the overhead lights at him in warning. 

He’s still begging for more of Tony. 

“Get me nice and hard again, baby, so I can fuck that needy hole of yours full.”

The amount of lust and stamina from the young omega is so arousing, Tony is seriously considering kidnapping the young omega and chaining him up under his bed. As long as Tony keeps feeding him his cock, he’d be too fucked out and cock stupid to think about finishing school or working for a living. His only job would be pleasing Tony and being available as a willing cum dump.

Looking down at the blissed out, hazy brown eyes staring up at him adoringly, Tony doesn’t think the kid would find it a bad gig at all.

Peter can't resist anymore. If Stark had asked him to be his personal cockwarmer, Peter would have happily obeyed. But that isn't the case here… Stark isn't done with him and Peter has to get him hard again if he wants another load.

So, he gets to work and uses his tongue to lick up the mess they made. He doesn't mind the taste of his own pussy, but it's the hint of bitterness that he goes crazy over. His boss's cum mixed with his slick… Peter wants more.

He licks up every trace of slick and cum, running his tongue around the tip and when that's clean, he chases after the taste along the length. He whines when it's all gone, wants to taste more of Mr. Stark, maybe even get his mouth on the older omega's pussy but the conflicting needs clash inside him.

He falls back on Stark's order and goes back to his task. Soon, he's sucking on the older omega's soft cock, loving the way it fits in his mouth for now.

Drool leaks from his mouth, drips down his chin, but all he's focused on is getting Mr. Stark hard again. His mouth is just as hungry for him as his pussy is. His hand creeps up, small fingers circling around the base to hold it steady as it begins to harden in his mouth.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” 

Tony lets the kid slurp and lick his way around his cock, enjoying the messiness and the hungry little noises the slut makes from the bottom of his chest as he tastes Tony’s cum. He weaves his fingers into the curling hair at the back of his head and pushes him down once Tony’s cocklet is hard enough to fill his mouth, fucking this hole like he owns it as much as he owned his pussy earlier.

Peter doesn't resist. He allows the hand to guide him and just rides out the rhythm his boss sets for him. Stark's hard cocklet fills his mouth, makes his lips numb from how hard and fast the older man is using him.

And yet, all Peter does is stare up at his mentor with wide eyed need, soft moans muffled by the cock in his mouth.

“Look how much you like being my whore.” Tony balances his weight and then lifts his foot up so he can pin the pretty pink cocklet down under his heel. He laughs softly when a spurt of pre shoots out over the toe of his dress shoe, leaving a noticeable smear. 

"Mm!" the omega groans, hips twitching towards the source of friction. 

Peter hasn't touched himself this entire time, too caught up in trying to be good for the older omega.

“Cute. You’re going to lick that up later.” Tony rolls his ankle, grinding the little cocklet harder into the omega’s pelvis before dropping back down to brace himself on two feet again. He reaches down and clamps his hand onto the bruised up nape of his slut, digging into the omegan sweet spot, and uses both hands to hold him still.

“Breathe through your nose.” 

Tony thrusts forward, too excited to go slow or to tone it down. His pussy is dripping copiously, his pink panties ruined where they cupped him below the balls. He doesn’t care. Tony just wants to fuck the wonderful throat of his personal whore. 

Peter tries to listen and obey. So far, he thinks he's doing a decent job but as Stark picks up the pace, the young omega realizes he still has so much to learn.

His breath stutters in his chest as he tries to accommodate Stark's fervor. His inexperience is glaringly obvious in the way his hand flies up, pressing against the older man's hip as though to stop him from going too fast.

The sounds change too. From soft and wet moans, Peter ends up making high pitched, almost embarrassing squeaks with every thrust into his mouth. They become obscene when the thrusts become hard enough that Stark's cock almost reaches the back of his throat. Wet, gurgling sounds as Peter accommodates him.

He's struggling to take it and now, whimpers are added among the sounds of his moaning. He just wants to be good for Mr. Stark and there, he realizes he's trying too hard.

He stops trying to control it and instead, allows the older omega to use him as he pleases. 

It gets… easier. Every thrust helps to empty out any relevant thought in his head. All that matters is Mr. Stark's cock and the way those brilliant blue eyes watch him.

Tony fucks the omega’s throat until he’s snarling with the pleasure of it. His dick pistons in and out of the compliant mouth, fresh pre leaking out across his tongue now. The smell of Tony’s renewed slick wafts up through the panties and slacks. 

Tony pulls the omega off by the hair after endless minutes of soft choking and wet skin on skin.

Peter's left gasping, mouth wide and lips swollen from use. For a moment, he fights against the hold, chasing after the hard cock bobbing in front of his face. He whines, trembling in loss, but then he licks his lips in anticipation. His body shudders, muscles tightening in excitement for what's to come.

It’s become too good and Tony worries about shooting off directly down that soft, bruised throat. If they were up in his penthouse and he had all day to ruin this pretty omega, then he would have held him down by the hair until he cried around Tony’s cock and swallowed his second load from the source. 

“Just look at you.” 

Tony marvels at how beautiful the omega is. His breathing is hitching with his first real breath that isn’t tainted by cock and cum, and his face is brilliantly red. The brunette curls around Tony’s fingers are soaked with sweat and he’s still holding the skirt up, still obeying Tony’s last command, even though his thighs are shaking like he’s going to fall over as soon as Tony lets go of his hair. 

“You take cock so well, sweetheart. You really were born to be on your knees.” Tony strokes one flaming red cheekbone. 

The younger omega shudders, turning towards his boss's hand and nuzzling against his fingers  

Tony nudges his cockhead against the kid’s chin, smirking when he’s able to move up and slip the tip back in with no resistance. He gives him just the tip, stroking himself so pre pools along the other’s tongue and across his lower lip. 

“You’ve been so good for me. You did exactly what I asked. My good boy. Are you ready for your last hole to be fucked?” Tony hopes he’s just as eager for that as everything else. A true whore for him to play with.

Peter squirms on his knees. His pussy feels achingly empty even though he could still feel Stark's load inside him… dripping and leaking from his fucked open hole. He wants to ask Stark to fuck him there again, just for a little… But he's looking forward to this… Wants both his holes dripping the other omega's load more than he wants his pussy filled twice.

"How do you want me, sir?" Peter's voice comes out a bit hoarse.

He gets up on shaky legs, presses close like the overeager teen he is, like a needy slut aching to be fucked. He nuzzles the other omega's neck, breathing in the sweet scent of arousal even as he takes hold of Stark's cock. He continues massaging it with slow, firm strokes, keeping it ready for him.

"Can you… fuck both my holes, Mr. Stark…?" He decides to ask. "You can… finish wherever you want…"

Peter feels naughty for asking, feels like he should just take what Stark offers. He can't help it though… The way Stark fucked him earlier… He wants it again, wants to feel his boss plowing into his pussy and fucking his ass open.

“I’m going to fuck you every day for the rest of your internship,” Tony promises, turning towards the younger omega’s brown curls.

He allows the boy to keep pumping him for a moment, just enjoying the pleasure of someone else working his shaft for him. When he’s ready to move things along, he grabs his wrist, halting him only for a moment before redirecting his hand down the front of Tony’s panties where his pussy's dripping.

Peter looks at the older omega with hooded eyes. He only feels even more aroused when he feels just how wet his boss is. With curious fingers, he explores Stark's pussy with a gentle touch. He runs his fingers along wet flesh, getting his entire hand drenched in the process.

He wants to lick every drop of slick off but doesn't want to waste this chance. Stark is the one who led his hand there, so it's safe to assume he wants Peter to touch him right? And what omega doesn't want to be touched where it really feels good…?

Peter presses even closer, sighing against Stark's chest, and poking his tongue out to swipe the sweat off his neck. At the same time, he inches his fingers deeper towards the source of all that wetness. He teases his fingertip over his boss's hole, breathing hard, and cocklet dripping with the sudden need to sink into something hot and wet.

The very idea makes his head spin.

Tony rocks his pelvis downwards, grinding into the long fingers sneaking their way through his folds.

Before he can get his shaking fingers inside, Tony hauls the slighter omega up off his feet, hooking slick-wet thighs around his hips. He starts walking with him in his arms like the omega weighs nothing, manhandling him wherever Tony wants him. 

Peter clings to the older omega with wide eyes. He has one arm hooked around Stark's shoulders for support while his legs tighten around his hips.

Stark's cock presses against his own, the length of it rubbing against his needy pussy. Peter gives a quiet moan, his hard cock dripping all over them both.

Tony walks until the door to the bathroom meets the kid’s back. He keeps coming, pressing them together from chest to groin, pinning the omega’s hand to his pussy and body to the door. His cock and the nano casing dig into him insistently.

Tony leans in close to the other omega. He grins wickedly and puts a hand over his mouth preemptively; there's someone walking passed the door on the other side.

“You’ll have to be good and you’ll have to be quiet.” Tony whispers against the omega’s ear. He bites the shell. “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve earned, baby boy.”

Peter's breathing is hard. His bosses doesn't know who he is, who his alter ego is, so he can't know that Peter hears everything. 

He hears the soft clicks of someone's heels as they pass by… Hears the soft whispers of his new coworkers murmuring about how Mr. Stark followed an omega into the bathroom and no one's seen them since…

"They've been in there a while…"

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Stark likes to get to the newbies."

"You should've seen the intern from last year… alpha and Mr. Stark wrecked them…"

"Oh shit… Maybe we should send someone? The omega that went in there didn't look the type…"

A soft, dark chuckle. "If he's not the type, he is now. Mr. Stark always gets what he wants."

The words make Peter's ears burn but he's so shameless that it turns him on even more to know that people outside know.

"I don't think I can…" he breathes out.

Still, he arches his back, hand slipping up to grasp his boss's cock… Aim it towards his hungry pussy and tries to sink down on it.

"Fuck me, sir," Peter begs in a quiet whisper. "Need it…"

"You will." Tony buries his fingers in the curls that are starting to get filthy and snarled with the slick and cum transferring off his hands and onto the once clean locks. He tugs, pulling until the boy's head tips back and gives Tony full access to his ravaged throat. 

"Maybe I should knock…?"

"Fuck that, I'm not getting killed for someone looking for a good time with a rich guy."

"But he wasn't looking for it…"

"He's Stark's bitch now."

Tony grins, pleasure burning through his veins. He times it so he's sliding his cock inside when whoever is outside says that last comment. He breathes out against the sweet smelling skin of his omega's throat. 

They know their place. 

They know who this omega belongs to. 

"Mmm. They're talking about you, slut." Tony kisses sweaty flesh, loving the way his pulse jumps under his tongue. He retreats, cock rubbing tantalizingly along slicked up walls. He slams back home, balls swaying from the force. 

"They're whispering about how you're mine." 

"Mm…!" Peter tries to keep his voice down but he can't.

He hears the words too and feels a thrill shoot through his body. His legs tighten around Stark's waist, trying to drag the older omega's cock back into his wet pussy.

"Don't care…" he groans, trying to get Stark to hit that sweet spot inside him.

His hand slips from between Stark's legs, dripping in the older man's slick. Peter can't help but suck on his fingers, glassy brown eyes gazing at the older man.

"Yours… I'll… be y-your slut…" Peter swears, "Just, ah– keep fucking me… there…"

He pulls the other man closer with both arms and legs, forces Stark to drive deep into his body. With his head hanging low, his mouth is so close to Stark's neck… He can't help setting his teeth there even if it's over layers of clothing.

He drags them up, mouthing at the other omega's sweat damp skin.

"F-Fuck me, sir…" he groans into Stark's ear. "Want them to know…"

“They’re already going to smell it on you, baby boy.” Tony pulls him away from his scent gland by the hair. He redirects the kids nose to the space behind his ear, forcing him to inhale Tony’s potent omega pheromones directly from his skin. He turns his head to do the same, scenting each other far too intimately for having just met and being mid-fuck. 

Peter breathes in the heady scent like it's a drug. It clouds over his mind and makes his insides burn with so much need that he doesn't know what to do with himself. All he can do is cling onto the older man, letting the other omega's scent fill his lungs while his cock fills his pussy.

Tony thrusts forward and nuzzles the potent smelling skin. For how tenderly he's scenting and kissing up above, his hips are setting an increasingly hard pace, fucking the omega into the door with only half an ear on all the speculation and whispering. 

The sound of skin on skin is echoing obscenely loud in the empty room again and Tony doesn’t care. Let them hear. Let them know. 

Tony sucks a hickey right over the other omega’s scent gland here, too.

“You’re mine now. Everyone will take one sniff and know who you let fuck you. They’ll get one look at these,” Tony lifts a hand and digs fingers into one of the many marks he’s littered across creamy pale skin. He fucks upwards hard enough that the omega slides up the bathroom wall a few inches. “One look, baby, at these beautiful marks of mine on your throat and they’ll know who you belong to.”

Peter sinks back down with a thoroughly pleased moan. He's barely paying attention to what Stark is saying, but he hears the possessive growl in those words and notes the greedy, almost covetous, hold.

He starts leaving marks of his own, latching his teeth into unmarked skin and sucking hard. If Stark wasn't wearing his suit, Peter's sure he’d have scratch marks too… but this is all he can do for now.

"Mr. Stark– Mm, yeah, fuck me…!" Peter starts moaning. 

He doesn't bother controlling his voice, he's too far gone to care about that. He still hears others talking about him but it only rouses his desires. So what if they knew Peter spreads his legs for his boss? They're the ones missing out since Peter has never felt so good in his entire life…

He whimpers even as he clings onto the older man. His lips constantly brush against Stark's ear as he's being fucked.

"Feels so good, sir… Love… having your cock…" Peter groans, sharp omega fangs nipping at Stark's ear. "Inside… inside… Love your cock… M-Mr. Stark… My pussy… Loves it… loves being f-fullll…"

“You little slut.” Tony bites him back, harder. 

He ruts up and in with powerful strokes of his cocklet, thighs and ass flexing beneath the clothing he still hasn’t taken off. His suit is drenched in fresh omega slick from himself and the whore practically screaming for more on his pistoning cock. 

Tony moves both hands to the omega’s pert ass, grabbing two handfuls and using his arms to pull the younger omega down to meet his thrusts upwards, getting somehow even deeper and rougher. 

Peter groans in appreciation. He immediately feels the difference and he moves into it. Muscles strain as he bounces on his mentor's cock, pussy squeezing and gripping tight. He feels sloppy and used and yet, here he is, still begging for another load.

The force Stark's puts into fucking him leaves him breathless and all too eager for more. He can't stop the way he whines and begs for it.

"H-harder…" Peter could barely get the word out as his body shudders with every thrust.

This omega could take it. He's built for a rough fucking and the small puddle of slick dripping out of his well fucked pussy is proof of that. 

“My little slut,” Tony amends with a snarl. 

He’s getting close again, if he let himself tumble over that edge. The voices outside are tittering; Tony doesn’t devote attention to them, not with something much better caught on his cocklet. His small omegan fangs dig into the new hickey, sucking it darker.

Peter whines at the pain but only clings even tighter. His pussy gushes with slick, soaking the other omega's thrusting cocklet.

“I’m going to give you another load, slut. When I’m done you’re going to thank me for the privilege of getting to hold it in for the rest of the day.” Tony orders it on a breathy exhale. 

He pulls the omega down onto his next thrust with slight extremis strength. His eyes glow blue with excitement. 

Before Tony even finished, Peter's already gasping his appreciation.

"Thank you, sir, thank you–" Peter gives the other omega more harsh nips and marks.

He encourages Stark to finish and more importantly, to finish inside him. He's more than ready to be filled again. His belly aches with anticipation and his pussy hugs the other omega's cock with tight, hungry clutch. It's seeking a knot, clamping down like a vice and trying to lock down tight.

Without a knot… Peter doesn't even care about being knotted, he just wants Stark's cum again.

"Come inside," he begs, "Fill me up, Mr. Stark, please…"

Tony comes with a low, snarling purr twisting from deep in his chest. His hips snap up, forcing the omega up the wall until Tony's hauling him back down, pinning his pussy to his cock so every drop stuffs the greedy omega up.

Peter feels the heat spill inside him and his pussy grows unbearably tight. His body doesn't know the difference between alpha or omega, doesn't know or doesn't care. It just cares about being bred so he clamps down on his mentor's cock, milking it for every drop.

At the same time, being fucked full sends searing white heat throughout him. Peter moans as his cocklet spurts out a pathetic amount of clear cum.  He mouths at sweat damp skin, licking weakly in the aftermath.

How many times has he come already? He pants against Stark's shoulder, gripping tightly onto the older man finishes.

Tony holds the omega close throughout his cocklet painting the slut's pussy white. He knows as soon as he withdraws that a cascade of his cum will drip out and pool on the floor to join the puddle of slick. 

The bathroom smells like a whorehouse.

"You're such a good hole for me, slut." Tony praises. 

He squeezes the plush ass he still has in his hands, rubbing the omega against his softening cock like he's a fleshlight for Tony to play with. 

"You're going to clean up just enough that nothing is showing when you walk out of here. The rest you'll have to hold in for the rest of your shift today." Tony instructs,  gripping the kid by the chin and forcing him to meet his eyes, brown on blue.

Peter feels dazed as he looks into the older man's eyes. He nods dumbly, dipping his head down to kiss Stark's palm.

"Yes, sir," Peter murmurs, looking at the older omega through dark lashes.

The thought of walking around with his boss's load inside him feeds into the desire still simmering in his blood, but for now, he feels sated.

Tony can’t believe how sexy this omega is. How obedient and slutty, too. The perfect little pet for Tony to play with for the next few months. 

Eventually, he’s sated enough of being inside and pulls back and out. As predicted, a flood of their combined juices follows Tony’s cocklet and spills across the floor between the tangle of their legs.

When Stark lets him down, Peter wobbles on his feet. His face flushes when he feels the rush of fluid, semen and slick, spilling from his fucked open pussy. It makes him feel… so hot and dirty.

The cleanup is going to be hell, but it was definitely worth it. 

Tony watches the lithe omega tidy himself up, fingering the blue panties he’d retrieved from the sink. To the omega’s credit, he didn’t once fight or hesitate about going back out without wearing these. No complaint about the ripped pantyhose. He was turning out less fussy than some of the paid whores and escorts Tony had used in the past, pre and post extremis.

He makes sure the younger omega sees it when he pockets the blue material; his own clothing had been done up and cleaned off long before the other omega.

When Peter's finished, he looks halfway decent. It's nowhere near the professional look he had earlier but he's passable.

Anyone who isn't aware that he's just spent the last hour being fucked wouldn't be able to tell. Maybe.

His skirt is just long enough that it falls a few inches above his knees. No one would know he's no longer wearing underwear. His stockings are ruined, and his shirt does nothing to hide the dark bites against his neck. He touches the bruises and knows they'll be gone within hours.

“You’re beautiful.” Tony murmurs once the omega’s finished straightening and wiping. 

Peter's eyes fly towards his mentor. For some reason, that comment out of everything that's been said and done is what surprises him. A sweet, gentle smile lifts the corner of his lip.

Tony grins wolfishly at the sweet smile. He knows, he knows how not innocent this omega is but he still wants to tease and torment the sweet young thing in front of him everytime he looks so pure and good.

Tony moves up close, herding the younger omega towards the bathroom door. He slips his hand up the back of one strong thigh, dipping under the skirt once again and zeroing in on his sweet pussy. He slips a finger inside, going knuckle deep with ease, and then pulls out just as quick. 

Peter's breath hitches.

"Mr. Stark–" It's a soft protest but Peter doesn't do anything beyond that.

“This is mine now.” Tony whispers softly against the omega’s warm neck. He gives one of the many bruises a tender kiss.

Tony gives a firm slap to an equally firm ass. Then he straightens up, schooling his expression, and unlocks and opens the door without warning. 

He holds it open with the air of a gentleman. All the tittering has stopped; dead silence for the next thirty feet. 

Tony’s eyes flare bright blue. 

“Welcome to your internship.” 

#starker #starkerbingo2019 #madstarker writes #keyz fic #Nff #moody mads #omega peter parker #omega tony stark #omega/omega #omegaverse

[geniusgub]

told you so//tom holland

warnings: fainting, hospitals, IV, malnourishment, talk of Heath Ledger and his death, sad boi Tom

///

inspired by tom's insta story where he thanked fans for his teen choice award win

///

Tom is always dedicated to his work and will do whatever he can to make the audience believe his character. He works endless hours on his lines, on understanding his character, and getting into the mindset of his role. But something he always dedicated a large amount of time to is his weight.

Spider-Man is an incredibly physical role. Tom was on set and doing stunts every day. He needed the muscle to support that, and he had to keep his weight constant so that his suit fit him and he didn't cause a giant problem for the wardrobe department.

But for Cherry, he's playing a veteran that is riddled with PTSD. He studied up on the disorder and discovered the effect it has on the human body, and decided that he needed to lose some of his muscle and drop some weight.

He didn't tell me this flat out though. I noticed him eating less and less over a week, after a particularly long and in depth production meeting. He decreased breakfast from a full meal to just a protein shake, and refused dinner on most days and replaced it with a workout at the gym. To say this new diet scares me is an understatement.

I'm not an actor. I don't completely understand his world. But I've been dating Tom for a few years, and I know enough to recognize that weight changing is a common practice in Hollywood. But just because it's common doesn't mean that it's right. I've heard horror stories in the media of certain roles burning out actors and ruining their lives, and that is the last thing I want to happen to Tom.

I watch as Tom comes sauntering into the kitchen, passing me with nothing but a kiss to my cheek and a whispered good morning, his voice gravely with sleep. I'm up early to study for an upcoming exam, papers already sprawled out on the island.

I sneakily watch as Tom pulls out ingredients such as protein powder, bananas, and peanut butter, then the blender. "Are you, uh-" I huff out a breath, looking down at my textbook, trying to make the conversation more nonchalant, "gonna have more than just a shake?"

"Don't think so," Tom murmurs as he starts slicing the banana. "I'm on this diet still, you know that." I open my mouth to respond but chose not to say anything, just shaking my head and deciding to drop the subject again. "What?" Tom quips after a moment of silence. "You have something else to say. I know you. Don't lie, you've got something to say."

I drop my highlighter and swing around on my barstool to face him. "Tommy, I'm just nervous about this diet, okay? I know that it's working and you're losing weight and muscle like you want to, but I'm just nervous how this is gonna affect your body and your health in the future. The last thing I want to happen is for this to ruin you."

Tom drops the banana in his hand and rushes over, placing his hands on my cheeks. "This isn't gonna ruin me. I'm okay, yeah? I'm completely fine. I'm just twenty pounds lighter. That's all."

My eyes widen and I grab onto his thinning wrists. "You've lost twenty pounds? Baby, that's too much. That's way too much! You told me ten pounds at first and I said that was too much, but twenty? That's too much!"

"It's not too much. I'm healthy, I promise." Tom swears, leaning his head forward and kissing my forehead. "We're only a week into shooting and the Russo's said everything looks great."

"I don't give a shit what the Russo's think. I care about you and your health-"

Tom huffs out a breath and drops his hands. "I am fine. You don't need to worry about me. My trainer says I'm fine, the medic on set says I'm fine, everyone agrees that I'm fine. I've only got another two months of this diet and then I'll have to bulk up for the next Avengers movie and I'll be back to the way I was before." He turns around and quickly finishes off his protein shake, putting it in a cup and closing the lid. "I'll see you tonight, okay? Good luck on your exam, I know you'll crush it."

He's kissing me and he's out the door before I can say anything else. Okay, so, that conversation didn't go anywhere close to what I had planned.

I pack up my books and head off to class for my exam, which is actually quite difficult. Or maybe I was just too busy thinking (worrying) about Tom to focus on a test. I guess I'll never know.

After my exam, I hurry off to my study of human behaviors class, hoping that today's topic will distract me from worrying about how my boyfriend is doing on set. But, of course, that hope is crushed when my professor pulls up a picture of Heath Ledger.

"Today we're going to be talking about Heath Ledger, and how his preparation for the role of the Joker effected him. Some believe the intense preparation even added to his death." She saunters around the front of the room without a care in the world, babbling on and on about how Ledger got into his character by locking himself in a hotel room and keeping a dark diary, filled with quotes, pictures, and his lines.

"Ledger was so deep into his character that he turned to medication to help him do things as simple as sleeping. Maggie Gyllenhaal even said that she could barely look at him while filming, and the crew was too nervous to be around him between takes because he would still be in character. So I pose this question to you all, did his dedication to his role and the extreme preparation for this role lead to his death?"

Oh god. Please no. This is exactly what I don't need to hear right now. Not today. Not while Tom is filming Cherry and I can't be with him at all times. Not when I get one text a day from him since he's so busy shooting scenes. Not ever.

Multiple hands shoot up to respond to the professors question. She picks a bubbly blonde in the front row. "His preparation definitely led to his death. He pushed himself too far and he couldn't handle the pressure of the movie, the pressure of stardom, the pressure of the Joker being so engrained in his mind. He couldn't shake it when filming ended, and it truly made him become some version of a psychopath."

Another student butts in. "Yeah, it's so obvious. He turned to drugs because he couldn't handle the role."

One other adds his opinion. "It's like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. She had to lose all this weight so she ate almonds and carrots for, like, months on end. And then she was in rehearsals all day and she dislocated a rib, but kept training. She said she thought she was gonna die on most days. It's very possible for actors to get so wrapped up in role that they lose a bit of reality. I totally think Heath Ledger died because of the Joker."

With that last student, I pick up my backpack and laptop and go stomping out of the lecture hall, choking back tears. I dramatically throw my belongings into my car and speed off, wiping my cheeks and trying to keep my emotions together.

I park in the first spot I see and jump out of my car, heading off to Tom's trailer, hoping that he'll be there, although the chances are slim. I've only been to Tom's trailer for Cherry once, and it was the first week of him filming. It's been lived in now, so I'm sure it looks quite different.

I hadn't expected his trailer to be a complete mess. At home, Tom is a little messy but always cleans up after himself. He clearly hasn't cleaned or let anyone clean up after him. There's clothes and shoes all over the floor and furniture, the sheets are messed up on the bed like he's been tossing and turning while sleeping, and the kitchen area is a complete wreck. There's a pile of papers and books on the coffee table that I make the terrible decision to investigate.

Having PTSD just messes up your whole life. I couldn't even get the energy to clean my house, or even my room, or my kitchen, or anything. I would throw things around and I would break things and just leave them. PTSD left me completely unable to function as a human. I couldn't sleep. How would I be expected to clean up after myself when I'm falling asleep standing?

Of course, his trailer like this is to keep himself in the character. I wonder if his costars can stand to look at him between takes.

The trailer door opens a moment later and I'm wishing it's Tom, but it's Harrison coming in, nonchalantly kicking a shoe aside to get to the fridge. "Oh hey, didn't know you were coming by. Tom didn't mention it."

"Is Tom gonna die?" I blurt out, my eyes pooling up with tears. Harrison's eyes widen at the wild question. "I'm scared he's gonna die. He's so into this character and he's gonna die, isn't he?"

"Oh my gosh, breathe, love. Tom isn't gonna die. Where are you getting this from?" Harrison takes a few steps closer to me, but it doesn't comfort me in any way.

"He's not eating, Harrison. I've seen him make food but I haven't seen him actually eat anything in almost a month. He's dealing with this disgusting trailer every day. I barely ever see him because he comes home and either goes straight to sleep or he's out at the gym until I'm asleep."

"Maybe you should talk to him." Harrison suggests. "Honestly, I'm worried about him too and I think you're the only person he'll listen to. You just gotta learn to keep your cool." He places his hands on my shoulders. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? I think you're just as tired as he is because you're stressing about it. I'll make sure that Tom goes straight home instead of going out, okay?"

I throw my arms around Harrison's waist in a much needed hug. "Thank you, Haz. You're the best."

"Yeah, I know I am." Harrison jokes with a shrug, letting me go. "Go, get out."

///

Tom doesn't come home for a while, not until I'm laying in bed, eyelids fluttering, ready to sleep. But the bedroom door creaks open, letting in a little bit of light. I listen as Tom bustles around the room to pull off his clothes, leaving him in just boxers for bed. He climbs into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I sigh contently, melting into his embrace.

"How was your day?" I murmur, sleep slurring my words.

"It was fine. Go to sleep, you're exhausted." Tom whispers, placing lazy kisses to the back of my neck. "I love you."

///

The next morning is normal. Tom wakes up before me and takes a shower, leaving me alone in bed. But I get up and throw on a comfy sweater, preparing for my day of classes. Tom is heading downstairs as I'm pulling on my leggings, presumably for breakfast.

But just as I'm finishing brushing out my hair, I hear a relatively loud thump from downstairs. I immediately pause, listening for a yelled sorry from Tom, just anything.

"Tom?" I shout, creeping towards the open bedroom door. When I don't hear anything in response, I panic. I run downstairs and into the kitchen, finding the worst sight I could think of.

Tom is unconscious on the floor, a spot of blood on his forehead, and a whole slew of food on the stove. I drop to my knees, pushing Tom's hair out of his forehead. I reach onto the island and grab Tom's phone, unlocking it and dialing 999. I babble off to the operator that my boyfriend fainted when I was in the other room and I don't know exactly what happened, but that he's unconscious. She promises that an ambulance is two minutes away, that I should keep calm, and not move him.

I put the phone on speaker as I wait, setting it on the floor. And just as I do, Tom starts to stir, his eyebrows scrunching up and his head starting to swivel. I lean over him and place a hand on his cheek, forcing a smile, despite his closed eyes. "Hi, sweetheart. Hi, baby." I coo softly, my thumb rubbing across the skin. "Stay right where you are, okay?"

"What happened?" He murmurs, words slurred.

"I think you fainted. There's an ambulance coming, just don't move, baby boy, you'll be okay." I instruct him.

"Work." He whispers, head falling to the side.

"Don't worry about work. I'll call someone later on and tell them. You don't worry about that right now, okay? Just relax, I've got you."

The paramedics come knocking at the front door a moment later, sending me running over to answer it. I lead the paramedics over to where Tom is still laying in the kitchen, watching the paramedics lift him onto the stretcher and strap him in.

Tom reaches for me, making me rush over to his side. I place a hand on his cheek, moving my thumb against his soft skin, giving him a smile. "I'm right here, Tommy. Do you want me to call Harrison, or your mum or dad? Anyone?" Tom just nods, so I assume he wants someone. "Do you want me to come in the ambulance with you?" He nods again. "Okay, then I'm gonna go get some stuff and get right in there with you." He nods a third time, eyes closing all the way now.

I rush around the house in just a few seconds, pulling on a sweatshirt. I collect a backpack with a sweats for Tom, our wallets, our phones, chargers, money, and whatever I can find that we could need.

Tom is just being loaded into the ambulance when I go to lock the door and jump inside. I'm exiled to the corner while the paramedics start working on Tom, leaving me to send out texts to his family to tell them what's going on.

I'm with him every step of the way. I'm there as he rides to the hospital, I'm there as he gets brought right into a room, and I'm there as a doctor comes in to see him. But I'm pushed out a moment later to fill out paperwork, and I have to be separated from Tom.

I rush my way through the paperwork so I can get back to Tom. He would never leave me alone if I was in this situation, and I don't plan to do that to him. So I return the clipboard to a nurse and she leads me back to a different waiting room.

"You can just stay here until the doctor comes around to get you." I nod but have to hold in my groan. I just want to be with Tom.

I sit down and decide to check my phone, finding a few texts. Nikki and Dom says that the whole family is on their way, and Harrison says him and Tuwaine are leaving their golf outing to get here, but it's going to take a while.

I'm not sure how much time passes from when I get to the waiting room and when a doctor comes. Maybe it was ten minutes, maybe it was an hour. I wouldn't know. But a doctor comes around to get me, thankfully refraining from calling out Tom's name and avoiding any possible fan run-ins.

I jump up and rush toward him, smiling nervously. The doctor asks again if I'm here for Tom, to which I nod, and he leads me away from the waiting room.

"So, it seems that he's very malnourished." The doctor tells me, which is no surprise at all. "He is severely underweight and is also very dehydrated. Do you know why this is happening?"

We stop outside of his room and continue talking. "He's preparing for a movie role. His character has PTSD so he decided to lose a bit of weight. I told him it was too much but he swore he was fine."

"Do you know how much he lost?" I tell him twenty pounds and then a little about Tom's diet, and I can tell but his surprised face that Tom is in for some deep shit. "Wow, that's a lot for someone his age and weight. Basically, his body can't handle the work that he's making it do. If he's working on a film set and he's not eating properly, or at all, his body is going to give out because it can't support him. For now, I've got him on an IV drip to hydrate him and I'll come back in a little while to talk to you two about what to do from here."

"Okay, thank you so much. I can go in now?" The doctor nods and then heads off.

Tom's eyes are closed when I enter the room, but I can't quite tell if he's sleeping. Even still, there's a nurse taking his vitals who smiles at me, quickly finishing up and leaving the room.

Tom stirs when I sit in the chair beside his bed, scrunching up his crooked nose. I grab onto his free hand and move my thumb against his knuckles, taking a deep breath. "I can tell you're awake." I murmur, the tiniest smile on my face. "I know you too well."

The corners of Tom's mouth lift up in the tiniest, his eyes fluttering open slowly. "Hi." He mumbles, the word slurred.

"Hi, sweet boy." I keep my voice sweet and smooth. "How are you feeling?"

"Bad." Tom spits out, sighing. His eyes are squinting and he looks like he's in pain.

"Does your head hurt? The lights hurt?" He nods, so I stand and turn off the light, watching the wrinkles in his forehead smoothen out. "Did the doctor check you for a concussion?"

"I-I don't know."

I let go of Tom's hand again and poke my head out of the hospital room, flagging down a nurse. I tell her my concern and she promises to get a doctor in soon, then goes on her way.

"A doctor is coming, Tom." I take my seat again and lace our fingers.

A silence falls over us for a moment, but the quiet makes me more aware of the way Tom's hands are shaking.

"Are you feeling okay?" I whisper. "You're shaking. I just wanna make sure you're-"

"I'm sorry." And suddenly he's breaking down in tears, sobbing loudly. "You were right, I was wrong."

"Shh, sweetheart." I coo, moving to sit on the side of his bed. "Let's not talk about that right now. Right now, just relax and-"

"I don't wanna be here. I wanna go home." He whines, hand squeezing mine as tight as he can, which isn't much at all. He's far too weak.

"I know you do. But you've gotta be here so the doctors can help you get better so you can get home and get back to work. So let's not cry," I wipe my thumbs over his cheeks, "and just relax as much as you can. You can watch tv, close your eyes, so whatever. A doctor is hopefully coming soon to help you."

Tom looks at me with huge puppy eyes, rimmed red from tears. "You're not gonna leave me, right?"

A smile appears on my cheeks, but it feels forced. "Of course I'm not gonna leave you, pretty boy. I'll be right by your side this whole time and for the rest of your life, you know that."

His lips push out in a pout. "You can still call me pretty boy when I'm like this?"

"You'll always be my pretty boy." I leave forward and press a few kisses to his cheek, hopefully calming him down a bit.

The doctor comes back into the room a few moments later, and Tom forces me to hold his hand while the doctor inspects him again, this time for a concussion.

"Yep, your girlfriend is right, you've got a mild concussion. I'd assume you hit your head on something when you fainted, whether it was a cabinet or the floor. It's not too bad though, you should be fine in two or three weeks. But even still, I wanna keep you for the rest of the day. I know it's early, so we'll see how you're feeling later and see if you need to stay the night or you can go. We've got you on an IV to give you some vitamins and some essential things you've been missing out on over the past few weeks. You know where the nurses button is, if you need anything. I'll see you two later."

///

The rest of the day passes incredibly slowly. Tom's family shows up just a little bit after the doctor leaves. They stay for an hour or two, just to keep Tom entertained, but he's being very quiet and really only wants to talk to me. But his family is babying him and talking to him like a child. And as much as I do that to him when I'm consoling him, he absolutely hates when his family does it.

And then Harrison and Tuwaine show up and wreak havoc. I know it's for entertainment purposes and to make Tom laugh. They show up and throw a backpack onto Tom's bed, what's filled with my laptop, smuggled in fast food, some extra clothes for Tom, and a handful of dvd's. Then they loudly make their way around Tom's room, inspecting every single thing that is on the walls or in the relatively empty cabinets. I'm tempted to kick them out so they don't get in trouble, but Tom is laughing and his spirits are lifted, so I don't bother.

By the time a nurse is coming around with lunch for Tom, he's starving. I can hear his stomach rumbling, but that's a sound I've grown accustomed to.

Tom pushes around his food, not interested in the bland hospital food. "I really want what Haz and Tuwaine brought." He eyes the McDonald's bag on the other side of the room. "I don't want this shit."

"I don't know if your stomach can handle that. You haven't had fast food in months and I don't know if that's good for you-"

"Please, baby, I'm so hungry and this looks terrible." Tom begs, pushing the tray of food away from him.

I easily comply, not wanting to put up a fight with him when he's feeling so tortured at the moment. I open the bag and find a ridiculous amount of food, more than me and Tom could ever eat.

"God, these idiots must have bought the whole store out. What do you want-burger, fries, nuggets?"

"Yes." He responds, making me roll my eyes.

"You're impossible." I pull out a small fry, a cheeseburger, and six piece nugget and hand it over to him, watching him smile happily. "You're nuts. Please eat slowly and drink a lot of water. I don't want you getting sick and throwing up."

"Can we watch a movie too?" He shoves a nugget in his mouth and gestures to my laptop. I agree, pulling up Netflix and starting a random movie, setting my computer on the bed.

Thankfully, Tom doesn't have to stay the night. He's built up enough strength through the IV, food, and relaxation for the doctor to feel good about him going home. So he gets out of his hospital gown and into some sweats, signing discharge papers and wobbling out of the hospital room. And since I rode in the ambulance with Tom, Harrison comes to pick us up and drive us home.

"Looking a bit better, mate." Harrison says, giving Tom a bro hug when we get to the car.

"Thanks for picking us up." Tom mumbles before jumping into the backseat.

"Thank you so much, Haz. You're the best." I give him a tight hug before sitting beside Tom in the backseat and heading home.

///

"Do you wanna go up to bed or stay on the couch?" I ask once we step inside, dropping our bags beside the door. Tessa is off at his parents house, so our house is silent.

"I wanna go shower, and then go to bed." He mumbles, taking the lead upstairs and hobbling into the connected bathroom. I collect him some fresh boxers and a tee shirt, putting them on the counter for him when he's done. I busy myself by changing the sheets and fixing up the bed, distracting myself from the craziness of the day.

"Babe!" Tom starts calling. "Baby!"

I panic, fearing the worst, rushing into the bathroom. "What? What's wrong?"

"Will you come in with me?" He asks like a child, pouting, his curls dripping over his forehead.

"I thought something was wrong." I groan, but begin stripping off my clothes anyways. I step into the warm water and sigh of relief, happy to wash away the stress of the day. I immediately wrap my arms around Tom's skinny waist, burying my face in his neck. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too." Tom sighs, hand running up and down my back gently. "Thank you for being there for me. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"Thanks." I chuckle with an eye roll. "I'm just glad you're home."

We finish up in the shower not long after, since being exposed to the warm water for too long could make Tom faint again. So we get dressed and crawl into bed, curling up under the cold duvet. I rest my head on Tom's chest and close my eyes, trying to drift off to sleep.

"You can say it now, you know?" Tom murmurs, lips ghosting over my forehead.

I smile softly, letting a beat pass. "I told you so."

#i dont know how to add a read below thing so sorry #reblog please!!!! #check out my wattpad #its @_obsessing #thanks for reading buddies

[xtruss]

Americans Used to Eat Pigeon All the Time—and It Could Be Making a Comeback

It’s reviled by city slickers, but revered by chefs.

— By Eleanor Cummins | February 16, 2018 | Popular Science

A vintage postcard of a pigeon plant. Wikimedia Commons

Brobson Lutz remembers his first squab with perfect clarity. It was the 1970s at the now-closed French restaurant Lutèce in New York City. “I came from North Alabama where there was a lot of dove and quail hunting and I knew how tasty little birds were,” the fast-talking Southerner recalls. “I’m not even sure if I knew then if it was a baby pigeon or not. But I became enamored with them.”

When he returned home, however, the New Orleans-based physician found pigeon meat in short supply. The bird was occasionally served in the Big Easy, but to satiate his need for squab, Lutz had to get creative. For a time, he says, he would call Palmetto Pigeon Plant, the country’s largest squab producer, and try to buy in bulk. “I pretended like I was a restaurant chef on the telephone to buy some from them, because they were only wholesale,” he says.

Eventually, Lutz decided to take matters into his own hands—and onto his own property. He bought some land along the Mississippi River, retrofitted a building into a pigeon loft, and bought a few pairs of breeding birds. “My initial plan was to go commercial, and I had a restaurant that wanted ‘em,” he says. But he’s found out he’s gotten a quarter of the production he expected. “I don’t know if it’s too hot here in the summer or if they’re not happy here or something, I’m lucky if I get from one pair six babies a year.” It’s enough to fill Lutz, but not enough to share his passion for pigeon meat with his fellow Louisianans.

Squab, once among the most common sources of protein in the United States, has fallen out of favor in the last century. The speedy, handsome, tender, and tasty pigeon of yesteryear was replaced in the hearts and minds of post-World War II Americans with the firsthand experience of the city pigeon, whose excrement encrusts our cities. It was replaced on the plate, too, by the factory-farmed chicken. But thanks to foodies like Lutz, squab is making a slow and steady comeback in French and Chinese restaurants around the country. Trouble is, the bird’s unique development needs mean farmers struggle to meet the growing demand.

A kit of passenger pigeons called for a shoot-out. Wikimedia Commons

Allen Easterly of Rendezvous Farm in Virginia sells his squabs in the Washington, D.C. area. He says most people are ignorant of the pigeon's culinary value—and that many seem to wish they could stay in the dark. "At the farmer's market, people say, 'What are squab?' And you say, 'Young pigeons.' And they go, 'Ew,'" he says. "They're thinking of the city birds pooping all over statues."

Pigeons may be reviled in the United States today, but as any squab enthusiast will tell you, for most of human history, the 310-ish species in the pigeon-dove family were revered. The little birds were a common theme for Pablo Picasso, who named his daughter Paloma, the Spanish word for dove. And physicist and futurist Nikola Tesla sought solace in his avian neighbors. One night in 1922, his favorite pigeon flew into his window looking distressed and eventually died. He reportedly said, "I loved that pigeon as a man loves a woman, and she loved me."

Since at least ancient Egypt, domesticated pigeons have served as a messengers. Their enviable speed and pristine sense of direction made them an important communication strategy well into the 20th century. Even when telegrams and eventually phone lines criss-crossed the continent, pigeons were often more reliable. During World War I, homing pigeons were used to discreetly deliver messages across enemy lines. One bird, Cher Ami, famously delivered a life-saving note to Army headquarters, despite being shot through the breast and blinded on her flight across the battlefield. She was awarded a French military honor, the Croix de Guerre, and her one-legged body (Cher Ami's right limb was also lost in her fated journey) sits taxidermied in the Smithsonian Museum of American History.

The pigeon's descent into the proverbial gutter is hard to chart, but its fate appears to have been sealed by 1914. That year, the last of the wild passenger pigeons, a little bird named Martha, died in captivity at the Cincinnati Zoo. The birds were once so plentiful in North America that a kit (that's the collective noun for a group of pigeons) in the midst of migration could black out the sun. As they traipsed across the Midwest and Eastern United States, snacking in farmer's fields along the way, hungry humans would pull the babies from the nest and cook them for a quick meal. But deforestation and overhunting—people not only stole the babies, but shot the adults from the sky—drove them to extinction in just a few centuries.

For those who remembered the passenger pigeon's prime, squab remained a popular dish. The birds merely morphed from a kitchen staple to a rare treat sourced from local farms or shipped in from faraway poultry plants. But these days, pigeon is a dish best served defensively. For the generations after World War II, who have grown up on factory-farmed chicken at the expense of other birds, the pigeon is a nuisance, not a source of nutrition. In the 1960s, prices for pigeon meat dropped as demand for pest control skyrocketed. In 1980, Woody Allen dubbed the same New York City pigeons Tesla adored "rats with wings" in his film Stardust Memories.

While it's true that city pigeons shouldn't be eaten, rumors that they are a particularly diseased bird are just that—rumors. Pigeons are no more likely to carry avian disease than any other bird, but we have made these feral birds moderately dangerous by feeding them our trash. Unlike farm breeds, which are carefully controlled and fed a special diet, city pigeons clean up our forgotten pizza crusts... and likely ingest rodenticide, battery acid, and lead along the way.

Around the same time that enterprising businessmen began putting up spikes and spreading poisons in pigeon-dense parks, the chicken, previously a fragile and finicky bird prized primarily for its eggs, became the nation's leading source of poultry. In 1916, just two years after Martha the passenger pigeon died in captivity, scientists began work to develop a "broiler" chicken, bred specifically for meat production. The hope was the bird would grow big and grow fast. After years of tinkering, the Cobb company launched its breeding program in the 1940s and other poultry producers soon followed. By 1960, the National Chicken Council reports, the per capita consumption of chicken was around 28 pounds. In 2018, the council projects we'll each consume about 92.5 pounds of the bird.

Despite the public vitriol and stiff competition from chicken, a few folks, motivated by the pigeon's gastronomic promise, have preserved the squab-eating tradition. Scott Schroeder is the owner and chef of Hungry Pigeon, a restaurant in Philadelphia. Trained in French cooking, he started eating squab early in his career, and has only become more enamored of its taste. "I really fell deeply in love with them in a way," he says of squab carcasses. "The breast in particular tastes like a mixture of duck and steak at the same time, which to me sounds really good."

There are two reasons for this unique flavor. First, pigeons are an entirely dark meat bird, meaning they have a high concentration of myoglobin, the oxygen-storing protein that gives dark meat its unique color and taste. Where myoglobin is concentrated in a chicken’s legs, it courses through a pigeon’s entire body, allowing for a more succulent, if iron-intense, eating experience. The second factor is the age at which a pigeon is killed. Like veal, the prized meat of young cows, farmers kill squab when they’re young and their meat is tender. By trapping them just days before they take their first flight—typically around four weeks old—farmers ensure that the meat around a baby pigeon’s wings are never used and therefore never hardened.

In France, squab is often pan-roasted, with a cream-colored crispy skin. In Chinese cuisine, the squab is usually fried, so it's served up whole and bronzed like Peking duck. In Morocco, squab is commonly served in a pastilla, an elaborate and pastry-centric take on the pot pie. While the first two preparations require a young, supple bird, the pastilla can use adult pigeon, too, as the slow-cooked process is enough to soften the more mature meat.

In the United States, the taste for pigeon meat remains rare, but the meat itself is rarer still. Schroeder recently had to remove squab from his menu at the Hungry Pigeon. His supplier—"a really nice Mennonite man named Joe Weaver who is the opposite of Purdue Chicken"—stopped selling the birds and the chef hasn't found another source of squab at a reasonable price. While a generic whole chicken costs around $1.50 a pound, a one-pound squab is typically 10 times that; depending on who you buy it from, prices for a whole pigeon can trend north of $25. “A hundred years ago, everyone was eating them,” Schroeder says. “Now, you can’t find them, unless you’re filthy rich.”

From the National Standard Squab Book (1921). Left page, top: "Squabs one week old." Left page, bottom: "Squabs two weeks old." Right page, top: "Squabs three weeks old." Right page, bottom: "Squabs four weeks old. Ready to be killed for market." Biodiversity Heritage Library

Tony Barwick is the owner of Palmetto Pigeon Plant, the largest squab producer in the United States. When he isn't dealing with calls from pigeon fiends like Lutz masquerading as restaurateurs, Barwick manages farm's 100,000 breeding pairs of pigeon. Each month, he says, the Sumter, South Carolina-based business aims to sell 40,000 to 50,000 squab. Barwick's birds can be found in "white tablecloth restaurants" and Chinatowns from New York to Los Angeles. "I've been backordered for 15 years," he says.

Though Palmetto's monthly output may sound big, it's nothing compared to pigeon's peers in poultry. The U.S. Department of Agriculture doesn't even track the nation's pigeon population, instead focusing primarily on chickens, chicken eggs, and turkeys. "We're a minor species," Barwick says. "I don't know how many squab are produced in the United States, but… let's say 22,000 a week. There's one chicken company in Sumter, South Carolina, they do 30,000 an hour in just that plant." After a poignant pause he adds, "In a hour what our entire industry does in a week."

Barwick acknowledges that part of the pigeon's problem is its bad reputation. But from an agricultural perspective, the real bottleneck is the bird's long babyhood. In the avian universe, most species develop quickly. Chickens, ducks, geese, and many other birds, are all precocial animals, meaning the newborns are mobile and reasonably mature from birth. While they still need to be protected, an infant chicken can start waddling—and, crucially, eating everyday food—from about the moment it cracks through its egg.

The pigeon, however, is an altricial bird, meaning the babies are helpless at birth. While it's possible that scientific manipulation could eventually turn squab into mass-produced meat, this fundamental facet of the pigeon's development makes things difficult. "A human baby is altricial," says Barwick. "So is a pigeon… It's born with its eyes shut, which means their parents have to regurgitate feed to them." Because the young are helpless, family units have to be kept relatively intact, and birds can't be forcibly fattened up. In the beginning, baby pigeons won't eat scattered bird seed, instead relying on so-called "pigeon milk," which is gurgled up from mom or dad's craw. This is why, on average, a pair of pigeons only produces two babies every 45 days. By contrast, a single female chicken in an artificially-lit environment can produce as much as one egg everyday, which, if they're inseminated and incubated, can turn into new chickens.

Pigeon problems aren't just a matter of maturity, however. They're also a matter of pure poundage: a pigeon doesn't weigh much. In four or five weeks, a squab tops out around a pound. In the same amount of time, a factory-farmed chicken will hit five pounds, thanks to selective breeding for broiler birds and other mass-production techniques like growth hormones. "It's like oysters," Schroder says of squab. "There's just not a whole lot there."

Still, it’s clear that some of squab’s inconveniences are also a part of its charm. Because it’s hard to produce and familiar primarily to foodies, it’s treated with more reverence than a chicken. While this keeps squabs out of the mouths of the masses, it’s actually great for business. After a severe decline in the 1960s and 70s, Barwick says demand for pigeon is back—even if most Americans remain oblivious to this particular source of protein.

“Most of our squab we sell into Asian markets in the United States,” he says. “They love squab.” In China, young pigeon meat pairs well with special occasions including weddings and holidays like Lunar New Year. Barwick says that the domestic squab industry started to bounce back after England and China brokered a deal to return Hong Kong to China. Hong Kong residents emigrated to the United States en masse in the 1980s, he explains, and brought their penchant for Peking duck and roast squab with them.

In more recent years, upscale restaurants have started to sell more squab, too. “We have these celebrities [like Julia Child, Alice Waters, and Emeril] who love squab and they’ve really pushed it, so we’ve seen domestic demand start to grow again and it’s that TV effect,” Barwick says. The unique taste and, of course, the relative scarcity of the bird, make it a mouth-watering menu item—for those who can afford it.

The combination of increased demand, a stagnated supply, and the bigger budgets of these white tablecloth establishments have all conspired to raise the price of the bird. While it’s easy to track down a host of midtown Manhattan restaurants, where one or six courses might be squab, finding the little bird in Chinatown is much harder. I found five Chinese restaurants in New York City that had squab on the menu, but only one actually kept it stocked—$18.95 a bird, head and all.

Arguably the worst part of city living. Pixnio

In many ways, the squab's spotty history is not unusual. At the turn of the 19th century, horse meat was all the rage. And during the Gold Rush, miners relied on turtles as a steady source of protein. What food appears unethical or unappetizing has always changed with the shifting sands of supply and demand.

What’s peculiar about the pigeon is our over-familiarity with the bird. We’ve all seen cows, pigs, and chickens, but few Americans encounter them on a daily basis, let alone share their stoops and streets with the critters. For devotees of French cuisine, the love of pigeon meat has actually enhanced their respect for the squab’s urbane cousin. “I like their resiliency and that they survive our environment,” Schroeder the chef says. “To me, they’re such an iconic bird.” But for the majority of people, negative encounters with the city bird means, even for a reasonable price, this particular meat will never make it on the menu.

Still, Barwick says Palmetto is planning to increase it production by nearly 50 percent. Over the next three years, he says, Palmetto intends to add 40,000 new breeding pairs. This increase may not be enough to substantially lower the price or convert chicken-lovers to the ways of the pigeon, but it's sure to provide pigeon devotees some relief. “Squab is perfect for one,” Lutz says, his Southern accent speeding up to deliver this final determination. “If I went with someone, I’d make them get their own. I wouldn’t share it.” If all goes well, he'll no longer have to.