#''yeah that kid with emptiness and age in his eyes; a weird voice; and passion to teach a new generation of adventurers was oddly cute...

[jorisjurgen]

going to fucking cry.

[fleshbride]

A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA. ────── ཐི Satoru Gojo x Fem Black Reader. In which a young man and his small town lover run to a house in Nebraska to escape the traumas of their hometown. ཋྀ

♱ CW: major character deaths, suicide, angst with a happy ending, brief alcoholism, racism/microagressions, childhood best friend & country satoru, small town bullshit, a single derogatory use of ‘nigga’. fluff. pet names such as: sugar plum, doll, honey, princess, baby girl, dream girl, darling, sweet thing & sunshine. smut; unprotected sex, whiny service dom gojo, sub reader. cervix fucking, fingering, oral (f! receiving), riding, breeding, extreme amounts of praise bc satoru talks so fucking much, overstimulation, dumbification, light choking, marking, nipple play, body worship, dacryphilia, begging, pussy drunk satoru. satoru is utterly in love with you and does not try to hide it. chubby reader.

♱ this fic is inspired by a house in nebraska by ethel cain, my favorite singer <3 it’s one of my much much longer fics… this fic is actually so ouch. i’m so so so sorry guys. like yeah there’s PASSIONATE love making, but it’s so so so sad. i actually sobbed writing this. it’s not proof read so pleaseeeee excuse any any mistakes!

♱ wc: 10.1k

You didn’t think it would hurt this much. You didn’t think you’d feel them lodge in your throat, push down your esophagus with a burn. You take more gulps of water, as you gasp and choke. It helps a little bit. You swallow more. And more. And more. Until the bottle of oxycodone is empty. How many were in there? About thirty. You grasp at another bottle. Cross contamination is always the best method. Those go down your throat just as horribly as the rest.

You’re sitting on the floor now, waiting for your death to approach. The pills are burning down to your stomach, and you gulp more water. You stand on shaky legs, and stumble your way to your bed. It’s empty. Like so many other things. Like your heart.

You remember how you got to this point, in your final hours. As you collapse into your bed, eyes fluttering shut, you allow the memories to wash over you.

Two years ago, you lived in a small town in Alabama. It was your nineteenth birthday and you were intent on celebrating in a way that satisfied you. However, while legally an adult, you still weren’t old enough to do too much. And frankly, you weren’t well liked within town. Why? Well, in such a small town, even one you grew up in, that was predominantly another race… They weren’t very accepting to your differences. They weren’t very accepting to your skin, to your hair, to your body, to your personality. They weren’t accepting to you at all.

Even though you grew up there like the rest of them, played with their children, held some of their sons and daughters while they cried and helped them pass their classes, and walked the graduation stage with them. You were still an outsider.

And it was okay — because you had Satoru.

Satoru Gojo, the one of the only other people of color in the entire town — even though he was pale haired, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, like everyone else in the town — was your best friend. You two had been best friends since third grade when he beat up some kid that called your afro ugly, and then you kicked some kid in the balls when he made fun of Satoru’s eyes, since he was Asian. Even at a young age, you two knew that those things were wrong — and you had to stick together.

And you did. You’ve stuck together all your lives, even through middle school, when your boobs started growing, and your hips started widening, and he got taller and his voice got deeper, and all of a sudden, there was this weird feeling. You stuck together through high school, when you got your first boyfriend, and he got his first girlfriend, neither of which ended well. Stuck together even when everyone twanged out, “Are y’all fuckin’?” You stuck together.

So of course, your birthday is spent with him.

Satoru still lives with his parents, technically. They own a ranch on the outskirts of town, and Satoru has his own personal little refurbished barn house, which he got for his graduation present. You’re always there, even more than your own home. Even now, you’re waiting on the wraparound porch of your house, hand over your eyes as you squint into the distance.

You can make out Satoru, on a horse, and with another at his side. He didn’t. You feel yourself squeal at the sight of the familiar white horse; your favorite one. Her name is Jezzy, and she’s the only white horse they have. You and Jezzy had bonded when Jezzy was first born, a little calf. You’ve been her favorite, and vice versa ever since. Frankly, she likes you more than the man that takes care of her.

You don’t wait for Satoru to get to your porch. You run to him, your gladiator sandals slapping against the dirt path and making your white-painted toes dusty. The pink and green floral dress you wear flutters around your knees as you sprint, the wind whipping your neck. Satoru hops down from his caramel horse, Honesty. He’s running to meet you half way, and the smile that had made its way onto your face only grows wider.

He yells your name, and you yell his, and the two of you collide. You throw your arms around his shoulders, and his arms encircle your waist as he lifts you up into a spin. “Happy Birthday, girl,” he laughs in your ear when he finally puts you down. His familiar Southern twang bouncing in your ears. He kisses your forehead, before taking a finger to run through your newly straightened hair.

“Yer curls are gone,” he says, almost sad, his lips pulling in a familiar pout. “You’re gonna get ‘em back, right? Love it when your hair’s like that.” He leans his arm on your shoulder, a familiar habit, even though he’s much taller than you.

“Yes, Satoru,” you muse, “They’ll be back next week, no worries.” You laugh as he whoops, and jumps in the air, clicking his heels together and causing dust to rise up. When he lands, he gives you a proud grin, folding his arms. You notice what he wears. He’s wearing a black polo shirt, that’s tucked into blue jeans and his jeans are messily tucked into his boots. You chuckle. Him and those fucking boots. His wind breaker is thrown over the polo. However, your eyes linger on how his chest presses against the polo. His white locks of hair frame his face, although his cowboy hat smushes his hair, and his sapphire eyes gaze at you happily. You don’t look away and he smirks.

“How’s it feel bein’ nineteen, sugar plum?” Satoru asks as he leads you to Jezzy, who’s quick to snort at you and nuzzle your face with her huge nose. You giggle and scratch her neck, pulling away a little so she doesn’t ruin the makeup you did on your face.

“Doesn’t feel like nothin’, Satoru,” you respond, jolting as he grabs your hips and lifts you to help you onto the horse. His strong hands on your hips make you bristle a little, but you should be used to it now, shouldn’t you? “Just getting older.” He grins up at you from below, giving a little laugh. “Yeah, I get it, plum. I’ll be turnin’ twenty in December, and man… I was just a tyke, wrestlin’ in the fields yesterday.”

You laugh, watching as he boards Honesty. You two start the horses up and begin trotting down the path. There’s a few seconds of silence, before Satoru asks, “You sure y’wanna do this birthday party?”

Ah. You were so swept up by Satoru’s arrival that you forgot where he was taking you. His mother threw a party for you, and decided to invite ‘damn near everyone in town’, according to Satoru. He was very dubious, considering your treatment, but you agreed to it. At first, your mother wanted it to be a surprise party, but Satoru insistently shut that down.

“I’m sure, ‘Toru,” you say gently. The male smacks his teeth, and rolls his eyes a little, before adding, “We can tell my mama to cancel everything, y’know? She won’t be mad at’cha. She knows that the townspeople are dickheads.” You refuse the urge to laugh, because he’s right. They are dickheads. However, you have hope.

“It’s fine,” you insist, “I don’t wanna waste your mom’s hard work. Plus, I’m sure nobody’s gonna do anything on my birthday.” Satoru sighs, but he doesn’t press any further. You’re not too worried; you know if something does happen, he’s right behind you, and he’ll come in swinging. There hasn’t been a time that he hasn’t. However, despite that, you can’t help but secretly feel jittery and nervous.

The rest of your ride to Satoru’s home is filled with jokes, and playful banter. The cool night air swirls around you two, making you shiver a little. You should’ve brought your cardigan. Satoru’s eyes quickly catch on and he chucks his windbreaker at you. He doesn’t say a word as you catch it, he just nods at you. You slide it on, and even in the cool air, your cheeks feel hot.

When you two get in sight of the house, Satoru whistles out, “Race ‘ya!” And it catches you off guard, but you’re quick to spur Jezzy on into canter, her strong legs sprinting forward as the two of you race towards the large ranch house. You and Jezzy win, making Satoru groan. As you both slow down, beginning to head to the stables, he shoots, “You only won ‘cause it’s your birthday!”

Your smug smile says enough about how you feel about that; even though Satoru has more experience with horses, you have your own little luck with racing — you win every race.

You watch as Satoru slides off Honesty. She brays at him and nudges his shoulder, and he chuckles, cooing to her, grabbing both of the horses’ saddle handles, pulling them into the stable. You know better than to try to get off horses on your own; you’re thrown off balance, every time, and end up on your ass. So you wait patiently as he puts Honesty in her stable, before coming over to you.

“Didn’t forget ‘ya, sugar plum,” he grins at you as he presses his hands to your hips. Instead of helping you crawl down, he simply just lifts you down. The stables smell of a mixture of horse, hay and dirt. Even though it’s not the best smell, you’re not focused on it. You’re focused on the way Satoru looks over you as he sets you on, eyes raking over your figure.

The dress that’s glued to your wide hips, draped over your plush figure. Your makeup, delicately painted on your face; he can tell you took your time on it. And you’re still wearing his jacket. He smiles, tucking a strand of your collarbone-length hair behind your ear. “Look at you,” comes his affectionate murmur, one that makes a fuzzy, bubbly feeling spread from your toes to your head. “Just a doll. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in this entire town.” You feel those feelings rising inside of you, and you try to push him away, embarrassed as you say, “Oh, stop, Satoru,” but he pulls you closer by your waist, craning down to you to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Nuh-uh, doll. You jus’ look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight you’re just… wow. Yer glowin’, Y/N.” Your heart is racing as he squeezes the plush of your waist, making you let out a ticklish giggle. Often, there are random times where he gets affectionate with you, extremely so — you should be used to these moments, but you aren’t. Your hands fist into his shirt as his lips press from your forehead, to down your chin. Your breath catches when they get too close to your lips.

This isn’t friendship anymore, is it?

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers into your ear, finally pulling away. You look up at him, eyes wide, as you breathily respond, “Thank you…” Satoru looks down at you, smiling gently as he hold you. He murmurs, “I have a surprise for you, y’know. Think you’ll like it.” Before you can question him, he places a finger right above your lips. He’s considerate; doesn’t wanna ruin your lip combo. “A little into the party. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

The two of you pull away from each other hesitantly, and Satoru kicks at the hay as he grins at you. “Party time, birthday girl. Come on.” The two of you exit the stable, sides brushing as you walk to his house.

Within ten minutes, you regretted insisting on going. Once you entered the ranch, carols of your name and ‘happy birthday’ echoed throughout the large common room. It was decorated in gold and white, with balloons everywhere and a little banner hung up for you. Satoru’s mother gave you a large hug, and wrapped her arms around your waist, steering you around to see the cake she baked you. You were all smiles and beams, immediately falling into her, with Satoru lumbering after, your hand outstretched backwards, clasped in his.

After you saw the cake, which was tri-tiered and your favorite flavor, you were passed around from person to person. You got many hugs, from townspeople you were sure didn’t like you very much, and to be fair; you enjoyed the kind attention. You wished it was your birthday every day.

Until, you got to a certain group of young women. You had graduated with the group, even though they were nasty as hell to you. As they approached you, you knew it wouldn’t be good. Vanessa, a tall brunette with pretty hazel eyes, gave you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen, before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Y/N! Happy birthday, baby!” She cooed, squeezing you. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around her in turn. “…Thank you, Vanessa.” Once Vanessa pulled away, her two friends, Isabel and Megan, gave you hugs also.

“Ugh, Y/N,” Isabel began, running her fingers through your shiny silk press, “You look so much prettier with straight hair! Is this your real hair?” You give an awkward laugh as you gently remove her hand from your hair, looking around for Satoru frantically. Partygoers heard her comment and turned to tune in, furthering your discomfort.

“Yeah, it’s my real hair, please don’t touch it,” you tell her sweetly, watching as she rolls her eyes a little. “I was just complimenting you! You should wear it like that all the time, it looks so much better than your other hair.” You bristle uncomfortably. Were these bitches being racist? You swallow hard and give her a nod, and a smile.

Vanessa steps forward, eyeing you over before she’s chirping loudly, “And that dress is soooo cute! But it’s kinda tight.. Have you gained weight, or something?” Your smile almost drops, but you manage to keep it up, as you let out a delayed, fake laugh. People are starting to whisper and nudge each other, and immediately, more nosy sons of bitches turn to eye you. You’ve always been a bit thicker — that’s no secret. You didn’t have the skinny white girl genes, no. You were filled in by the time you were 13, and even as a nineteen year old, you had a bit of a plump body. You weren’t overweight or obese; you were perfectly healthy. It was just the way your body was. And the fact that these girls thought they could pick on you about it?

You refused to let it happen on your birthday.

“Oh no,” you cooed gently, mirroring Vanessa’s tone, “I haven’t! But um, are you recovering?” You blink gently at her. Fine, you think mentally, if she wants to put on a show, we can do that.

“From what?” Vanessa chirps hesitantly, eyes narrowing. She didn’t think you knew, huh?

“Those butt injections you got last month!” You answer loudly, putting a hand over your heart. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she looked around frantically, as people slowly began to whisper intently. She wasn’t used to the whispers, it seemed.

You were visiting at the local doctor’s office, when you overheard the doctor’s conversation with Vanessa, she was asking some questions about pain for it. You hurried to the bathroom before you could be seen, keeping the information in your head. From the corner of your eye, you see Satoru making his way from the kitchen. He’s obviously heard what’s going on, and doesn’t look happy.

“I didn’t get no injections!” She claims, trying to take advantage of the situation, “Y/N, how could you spread such a nasty rumor?”

“Huh,” You say, “That’s real funny. So you’re just gaining weight too, hm? We should go to the gym together, do some cardio, you know? You must be eating a lot, if it’s all going to your ass!” You giggle, pushing her shoulder and making it all seem like some joke. She has no choice but to giggle with you.

“You know who I haven’t seen here?” Megan speaks up and immediately, you’re on edge. While Vanessa may be the face of the trio, she’s the one who’s more lethal and intelligent with her words. You’ve learned this too many times from high school. “Your parents, Y/N. Typical Black parents, you know? Never there when their kid needs them.” And more publicly racist. You resist the urge to grab this girl by her throat, and show her what exactly your Black parents had taught you. It isn’t like they’re absent — your father passed when you were a teen, and your mother was a chronic workaholic, struggling to provide for you.

“Crazy,” you hear a monotonous voice go behind you. You know exactly who it is, and you couldn’t be more relieved. In typical country boy fashion, Satoru is behind you, chewing on a toothpick. “Megan, weren’t ‘ya crying to me about how your poor dear ol’ daddy beats on ‘ya? Typical Megan, y’know? Always self-projectin’.” He whistles as he presses his hand to the small of your back, steering you out the ranch, the comments of the party trailing behind him. In the faint throes, you even hear, “That nigga bitch…”

You pretend it doesn’t bother you as Satoru leads you to his barn.

Once you’re comfortably nestled in the warmth of his barn, you let out your frustrations about the racism of the town. Satoru sits next to you, his toothpick still resting in his mouth. He watches you intently, before humming out, “Ya done, doll? Don’t let those assholes ruin yer day. Matter fact…” He got up, heading to his little kitchen. You only watched, still fuming a bit.

“Close yer eyes!” The white haired man yells at you, and you do so obediently, pretty brown eyes fluttering shut. You wait for him, hands folded in your lap. You hear the couch creak a little and something set on the table.

“Open ‘em,” you hear his gravelly voice tell you, and you obey. Your eyes lock on a cupcake, with a single candle in it. You soften considerably, calming down immediately.

“Aw, Satoru..” You whisper gently, placing your hand over his, eyes flickering from his face to the cupcake. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah I did,” he retorts, squeezing your hand. “You didn’t get to eat any of the cake, even though it was yours, and we needed to be alone anyways. Make a wish, honey.”

You close your eyes, leaning to the cupcake.

I wish that Satoru and I are together as long as we live, and even in death, may we stay together.

You blow out the candle then, before sliding the candle out the middle and licking the frosting off of it.

“One more thing,” Satoru says, sliding his hand into his pockets. He pulls out a golden heart-shaped locket from his pocket, dangling it around his finger. “This is for you, birthday girl.” He cracked open the locket, showing the pictures. On one side was a picture from third grade, the first day they met matter of fact — Satoru’s mother had taken it as a memento. On the other side was your graduation picture, where Satoru had his arm wrapped around you and his lips pressed into your forehead. How far you two had come.

He waves the locket in front of your face, as you gasp at the picture. “We haven’t been able to find this picture years, how did you….?” Satoru only grins and shrugs, as if it was nothing at all. In your pure bliss, you throw your arms around him. His arms wrap around your waist in turn, hugging you tightly.

You can feel tears budding in your eyes as you whimper out, “This was so nice of you…! I appreciate it so much, thank you, I love you!” Satoru laughs as he rocks you, before responding, “Shh. It was no biggie. C’mere, let me put it on for ‘ya.”

You pull away gently from each other, and you turn so that your back faces him. He drapes the necklace over your chest, using his knuckles to push your chin up a bit. He fiddles with the hooks a little before getting it right and letting go. You skim your fingers over the locket before turning back around with a smile.

He opened the locket, looking at the picture. “Man. Can’t believe I found photographs of our school, on the day we met.” He smiles a little, as he looks between the two small pictures. His eyes flicker up to you, then back down. You only watch him with softening eyes. Your heart pumps, and that bubbly feeling spreads through you again. He makes you feel so warm. You’re not an idiot, you know exactly what the things you feel are. You weren’t dense; you knew for a long time.

But you can’t bear to say a word before he did. However, you didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Satoru takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. He gathers his courage before softly uttering, "I thought that you were so beautiful… it was love, I guess." His gaze remains fixed on you, his heart hanging in the balance, waiting for your response, hoping that his words have stirred something within you.

You don’t realize what he had said at first, before it registers. You double take, eyes widening as you look at him frantically. “Satoru. Satoru. It was what?” His face is pink as he looks away from you, but you were insistent, crawling closer to him as you plead, “It was what?” Your hands grab his shirt and he whistles, looking away from you.

Finally, he mumbles out, “… Was love, I guess.”

“What kind?” You press, tears bubbling in your eyes once more. It couldn’t be. He looks at you for what feels like hours. “You know what kind, darlin’. Don’t make me repeat myself. In a way I shouldn’t.”

“Say it.” You hiss, crawling into his lap. He spreads his legs immediately, making room for you as you place yourself in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Tell me.” One of his hands rests on your hip and the other trails to play with your locket.

He looks almost shy this way, his blue eyes heavy lidded as you request his words. He sucks in an inhale before he’s saying, “I love you, Y/N…. and not as your best friend. I want ‘ya to be my girl. There, said it… Please let me be yours.”

You’re silent. He wants you to be his girl. Your brain is slow to process it, slow to understand it, slow to reciprocate. However, as you reflect upon his desire for you, a wave of emotions starts to wash over you. Confusion is gradually replaced by clarity, hesitation transforms into certainty, and the realization of his affection for you fills your heart with joy. Suddenly, everything seems to make sense, like a complex jigsaw puzzle finally coming together to reveal a beautiful picture.

“Okay.” It’s all you say. Satoru’s eyes widen, as if he was expecting a rejection. Before he can answer, you’re pressing your lips to his, finally taking the initiative for fucking once. When your lips crash against him, it’s like heaven and hell have collided in a fiery, desperate match.

Satoru’s hands grasp at you, desperate, as his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, curling against your tongue. The way you two kiss is messy, and needy, saliva coats your lips, but it couldn’t be better. Satoru pants into your mouth as he runs his hands over your body feverishly.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your mouth, pulling away briefly to adjust his pants as best as possible. “So hard, you got me s’hard, doll. Shit, shit, get up, or ‘m gonna explode..” You can feel his dick, straining against his jeans beneath you. You don’t get up from your spot, and he lets out a groan into your mouth.

Your hands are sliding under his shirt, feeling the firm abs underneath, trying to touch any bit of his skin you can. His hands squeeze the swell of your ass as he nips at your bottom lip, before sliding his lips down to your throat. He begins to kiss your throat before sucking, biting, making sure your skin is covered in dark marks.

You grab his cowboy hat and throw it off, so you’re able to sink your fingers into his white locks of hair, letting out slight moans as his hands move from your ass to your tits. He caresses them through your dress, and you hiccup as he finds your nipples.

“You ain’t even wearin’ a bra?” He asks you, pulling away from the curve of your neck, to look at you. Satoru’s eyes are glazed over, and low. His face is pink, his hair is ruffled, and his lips are swollen, but he’s never looked happier.

You shake your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It didn’t look right with my dress…” Satoru only stares at you, before he’s throwing his head back, groaning. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I can’t do this, princess, I need you so bad.” His chest rises and falls so rapidly, and you can feel his bulge pressing up against you as you sit on him.

You need him just as bad as he needs you, the wetness in your panties tells you all you need to know. Satoru is looking at you with those violently blue eyes. You realize that you’ve been holding your feelings back for years, even now — your love for him, your attraction, and your pure, unadulterated desire.

“Please,” he whispers, pressing a small kiss to your lips, “Please let me put it inside you, please, just the tip.. Please, please, please, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna fuckin’ die, please, baby girl, need your pussy s’bad….” You enjoy the way he’s acting; you’ve never been wanted like this before, and you doubt you ever will.

“Satoru, you don’t have to beg,” you murmur, draping yourself across his body, arms around his shoulders as he palms your ass and sneaks his hand down to cup your clothed heat.

“Know I don’t,” he whispers, fingers pressing against you in a way that makes you lift your hips, and whine a little. “Look at how wet you are, girl. Any more and ya just may flood your panties.” His fingers push your panties to the side and you gasp as the cold air hits your pussy. His other hand hikes up your dress, balling it up in his fist.

“Gonna make you feel good first, doll,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “Relax, ‘nd let Satoru take care of you, mkay?” You nodded feverishly as a finger slid through your plush folds. His finger almost immediately found your clit and swirled around it, causing you to let a little mewl escape your lips. Satoru’s lips were meanwhile pulled into a smug grin at the sound you made. He maneuvered your body, so you were lying back against the couch, legs spread for him.

He tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them somewhere, before pushing the fabric of your dress up and settling between your plump thighs. Without wasting any more time, his finger circled your entrance, teasing you. You huff a little, pouting down at the white haired man, and he grins in response before sliding two fingers into you.

You moan, arching your back as pleasure seeps through you. Satoru’s long fingers reach farther than yours ever could. He smiles at you as he curls his fingers against your walls. “Such pretty moans, good girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your thighs, as he begins to pump his fingers inside of you. Your thighs twitch, and you grip at the couch. His fingers are skilled, scissoring and curling, as the sloppy sound of your wetness echoed through the barn. Satoru leaned forward, enclosing his lips around your clit.

The combined effort of his fingers and his mouth had you squirming and whining beneath him. He pressed a hand to your stomach, his movements halting and eyes narrowing as they snapped to you; you know what he was telling you. Stop moving or he’d stop.

You couldn’t take that. You stilled your movements, trying your best to relax as Satoru slowly resumed his ministrations, lapping at your cunt while sliding his fingers in and out of you. His fingers curled against a spot that had your toes curling as you cried out his name. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, and had another finger pressing into your heat. You let out a squeal at the slight burn, hand flying to grip his hair. “Satoru-! Ah, that’s too much!” He gave you a silencing glare, blue eyes honeyed with lust. His fingers nudged your g-spot, and the whine that left your lips let him know exactly what he had pressed.

His movements all sped up, as you felt your stomach tightening. Between each of your moans was a pant, as you cried of his name. Everytime his fingertips pressed against your g-spot, you felt yourself get closer and closer to orgasm. Mixed with his tongue swirling your clit, you couldn’t take it. Your thinking got fuzzy as the rubber band in your core was pulled farther and farther. “Toru! I-I’m close!” You whimpered, as his quick, skilled movements brought you to your peak. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed all over his fingers, breathing hard. You didn’t even notice, in your stupor, when he replaced his fingers with his tongue, lapping up your essence.

His tongue was flat against your entrance, as he licked from hole to clit and back again. When you finally came to, you were whining all over again, sensitive as Satoru flicked his tongue across your bundle of nerves. You pushed his head, letting out a. “Hold on, ‘m sensitive!” Satoru smacked your hand away, mumbling out, “Shh, doll. Gimme another one.”

He dived back in between your thighs, mouth latched onto your pussy as he pressed his tongue against your hole, fat tongue working itself while he slurped at your essence. A mixture of his spit and your juices dripped down your ass – but he was quick to slide his tongue down, licking that right up.

He was messy with his mouth, unabashedly slurping, sucking, and licking everything you had to offer, the wet smacking noises echoing through the room. You would’ve been embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good.

Before long, you were about to cum a second time, eyes squeezing closed as you gasped and spasmed, letting out a broken cry as another orgasm claimed your body. Satoru was ecstatic, lapping up your cum and guiding you through your high without breaking a sweat.

Once you came down from your high, he pulled away gently, his intense gaze locked on you. His eyes glimmered, pale hair askew as he latched his mouth back to yours. His hands gripped at your dress, yanking at the sleeves to pull them down your arms, before the entire dress was coming down to your waist.

Your lips moved feverishly as you fiddled with the buttons of his polo, and he raised his arms to slide it off. His buff form was revealed, abs firm and his strong arms moving to cocoon you against him. There were gentle words being exchanged between your lips. “So gorgeous, Y/N. Fuuuck, honey, can’t wait to feel your pussy ‘round my dick.” Satoru mumbles as his fingers fumble with his jeans. However, before he unbuttons them, he looks at you. “You sure you want this, sunshine? We can stop here, and keep kissin’. Fuck what I want, ‘kay? What does m’girl want?”

God, you didn’t think that he could get any hotter. But his consideration of your wants and needs make you get even wetter. “Satoru, I want you,” you say gently, one hand pressing to the side of his face. He nuzzles into your touch, eyes softening. “Want you too, sunshine. So much I just might go insane..” He finally unbuttoned those stupid jeans, yanking them down and his boxers with it. His length sprung out, and your eyes popped out of your head.

Satoru was the size that those fake ass dick pills promised, his tip pressing just under his belly button. His tip was mushroom shaped and fat, as pink as his blushed cheeks, and weeping fat beads of precum. His length was a bit on the skinnier side, and although his girth wasn’t anything to fear too much, his length definitely was. His dick was something straight out of porn propaganda.

“Toru, that’s not gonna fit,” you found yourself saying, your eyes flickering from his length to his pretty face in anxiousness. Satoru only leaned down to kiss you, shutting you up. “It’s okay, princess” he whispered sweetly. Even now, as his dick pressed against your stomach, his tip landed slightly above your navel. “Don’t be scared, ‘m gonna take such good care of you,” his kisses went down your neck, to your chest. He kissed around your breasts, before his tongue flicked out to lick your right nipple, hardening it. He turns his head, lavishing the same attention on your left. His hands multitasked, grabbing a pillow and sliding it underneath your back.

His kisses moved to the valley of your breasts, before going down your stomach. He pressed kisses into your love handles, to your stomach, to your cunt, which made you giggle, to your thighs, before he was holding up your legs and kissing up your calves. He even kissed your feet. He traced your stretch marks lovingly, murmuring out, “Only God knows how I’ve waited for this. For you. Fuck, Y/N, you’re just so fucking beautiful. More beautiful than any of the women in this town. Shit, I could cum just lookin’ at you…”

You couldn’t help but simper at his words, face warming as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Please just fuck me already, Satoru.” His tip slid against your clit and you let out a soft whine. “Please, just…” You were silenced by the feeling of him rubbing his tip down your slit, collecting your juices before you felt him pressing against your hole.

You hissed, hands flying up to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. To distract you from the burn of him entering you, he began to lather kisses and lovebites across your throat and collarbones. Your hole stretched around his tip, as tears burned in your eyes, the slight pain making you shift uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, baby girl, I got you,” he whispered against your skin, tongue sliding across your throat as he sucked more hickeys onto the expanse of your throat. He pushed his tip in, and once the burn of it faded, he fed you inch by inch of his dick. Your pussy constricted around him, sucking him in greedily as your juices coated his length.

The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you had you letting out a high-pitched whine, eyes rolling back. Above you, Satoru let out a whine identical to yours. “Oh, f-fuck,” he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut, “Fuck, almost came. You’re so warm, ‘nd wet— You feel so good, baby doll, oh shit.. Your pussy’s grippin’ me so nicely, fuck, I-I can’t take it.. Oh my God, tell me when I can move…”

Satoru was breathing heavily, as he looked down at you, your pretty face contorted in pleasure as his tip nudged against your cervix. Just the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars, euphoria coursing through your veins. When you finally adjusted, you tapped his shoulder, telling him you were ready.

Satoru pulled out, so that only his fat tip was inside of you, before rocking his hips into yours. That first shallow thrust had you release a hiccuped moan, gripping his shoulders. He took this as a positive sign. Satoru’s thrusts were slow, yet deep, and each time his tip was pressed to your cervix.

The feeling of it, thought it hurt some, was extremely pleasureful to you, and a whine of, “Faster, please,” exited your lips. Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly as he grinned. “Alright, darlin’ but when you can’t walk in the mornin’, don’t blame me!” He pulled out a little before pushing his hips into yours. He delivered you those deep strokes, just at a much faster pace.

Your tits bounced, body propelled forward as he held your thighs for stability, his dick stretching you out, stirring up your guts. The angle from the pillow only heightened your pleasure, and each thrust forced out a blissful whine or a whimper of his name from you.

Satoru let out heavy groans, not scared at all to let you know just how good you felt around him. And even better, he leaned down to let husky murmurs of praise fill your ears. “Such a good girl, takin’ me s’good… Like your pussy was made for me. You feel amazing, darlin’, wanna make you cum so bad… You feel good? Please tell me ‘m making you feel good, baby girl…” His voice was breathy and desperate in your ear, as you struggled to form the words he wanted to hear. “Please, baby? S-Shit, let me know how good ‘m making you feel on your birthday.”

His words only drive you crazier, head spinning as you gasp out, “Makin’ me feel s’good, Satoru! P-Please, please, please don’t stop, oh my God!” Satoru cursed under his breath as his hands slid from your thighs to your breasts, squeezing at them. His fingers circled your nipples, before he pulled, twisted and rolled them between his fingers. It only shoved you closer to the edge, as his tip briefly pressed against your g-spot. The brief gasp you gave from it let Satoru’s perceptive ass know, and he angled his hips to hit that spot, instead of your cervix.

The sound of your hips colliding filled your ears, along with Satoru’s raspy moans. Within no time, you were alerting him, “Toru, ‘m gonna c-cum again!” The third orgasm you had in a row, and it seemed like Satoru wasn’t stopping. He chuckled, moving one of the hands on your tits to swirl your clit in rough circles. “Mhm, go ‘head, sweet thing. Let go f’me.”

It pulsed underneath his finger pad, as your third climax seized your body. Your breathing heavy and quick as you let out gasped out, long moans and wails, your pussy clenching around his length as you creamed around him. Euphoria was spreading through you, to every part of your body.

Satoru’s eyes widened as he fucked you through your orgasm; his own was catching up to him, and it had him letting out deep whimpers mixed with his moans.

“Can I cum in you?” He gasped, hands gripping your waist. His nails digging into you so hard, crescent marks were being left on your skin. “Please, baby? Fuck, need to cum s’bad, and I wanna see my cum dripping from your pretty pussy…” He shoved his face into the curve of your neck as he began to beg. “Please, Y/N, wanna feel you around me while I fuckin’ cum, I-I need it, please, you feel s’perfect and I just wanna fill you up and watch it slide out. Wanna pump you full over and over until you’re filled with my babies—“ Satoru was rambling by now as he bucked desperately into you. He let out a shaky whine against your skin as your bodies collided passionately.

Your sensitive body quaked in his hold as he pleaded to cum in you. You couldn’t deny him, not when there were tears budding in his eyes, and his swollen dick was fucking you up like this, and he looked so pretty whining out your fucking name. You gave him a nod, even though your brain was foggy and you could barely care about what you were saying yes to.

Satoru let out a sigh of relief, moaning out, “Thank you, princess, thank you, thank you, love you, I love you—“ The feeling you got when you felt that first spurt of cum fill you was unbelievable. Warmth spread through you, as Satoru’s dick twitched and bobbed inside of you, before he was releasing his thick cum into you.

Just like he said he would, Satoru stuffed you full of his cum. He collapsed against you, face in your titties as you both breathed hard. He pulled out slowly, his dick getting a little soft. In a heartbeat, he was spreading your ass so he could watch his warm cum trickle from your hole.

And just like that, he was hard again.

You watched with dazed eyes as his dick twitched, ready to go again. Satoru grinned at you, tilting his head as he said, “I’d eat my cum out of you right fuckin’ now, but I need to feel you around me one more time.” He scooped you up, maneuvering so he was laying back and you were in his lap again. “For every year you are,” he murmured, his finger trailing down your spine, “Is every round we go. Every position we swap. I can keep up… Can you?”

You knew you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t compete with his stamina. But you nodded your head yes, and lifted your hips anyways as a mix of both of your cum slid down your thigh. “Mhm, baby,” he laughed a little, holding your hips as he guided you. “You can keep up? I’ll have you fucked dumb by round five. Maybe even this round. Hopefully ya last, birthday girl.”

Before you could even respond to his bravado, he pulled you down, spearing you on his length. You let out a squeal, as you clutched his arms. You were still sensitive, and you made sure to whine it loudly. His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you up and dropping you back down. His tip bumped your cervix s he did so, and you mewled, pressing your face into his chest.

“Nuh uh, sugar, you can last right?” He taunted, even though his breath was shaky. “Ride me. Right now.” He wasted no time with sliding in a joke, “You ride horses so well, I’m sure you can ride mine.”

You bit your lip as you planted your feet into the couch, using your lower body strength to pull your body up. You began to bounce down on him feverishly, immediately setting a fast pace for yourself. Satoru hit all the spots you needed, and you felt your fogged brain saying that you should’ve fucked him much longer ago.

Satoru cupped your ass as you rode him, stuttered breaths leaving him. “Oh, s-shit, baby, yer goin’ so fast—!” He gasped, your pussy clamping down on him like no other. You kept going, ignoring him, as if you were using him. You had something to prove. You purposefully clenched harder around him, intent on making him cum first, to prove he was the one who couldn’t last.

Satoru, unfortunately, quickly picked up on what you were doing. His hands gripped your hips once more as he huffed, “Sweet thing’s got a vendetta. Mm, fine. I’ll bite.” His heavy lidded lapis eyes peered at you as he began to thrust upwards to meet your bounces, tip jamming against your g-spot. The only noises that left your mouth were squeals, the little bit of control you had dissipating.

Satoru quickly regained his control as he fucked up into you, watching as your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back. Your sweat covered bodies merged, and his eyes were fixed on the way his dick slid in and out of you, and the cum coating his length. The noise of him pounding into you seemed to be amplified. For another time, you felt yourself reaching a climax, stomach tightening as your jaw went slack. It was coming so fast, you couldn’t even alert Satoru.

You let out strained moans of pleasure as he continued to fuck into your sensitive pussy, bringing you to the peak of ecstasy for the fourth time. The throbbing sensation in your clit, though slightly painful, only added to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Each orgasmic wave that washed over you was a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing.

Finally spent, you dropped against him, whimpering pathetically as he continued to use your body like a cocksleeve. Tears filled your eyes as he pushed past your sensitivity, fucking into you like a menace. You knew he had stamina, but God, this was insanity. His hand wrapped around your neck loosely, tilting your head up to look at him.

The sight Satoru laid his eyes on was heavenly. Your hair was mussed, starting to sweat out; your makeup was becoming messy from the tears beginning to slide down your face. Your lip combo was long gone, though there were remnants on both his lips and yours. The sight of your tears only fueled him, as he kissed them away. “Thank you for letting me have your body like this, pretty. Pussy was made for me. Just divine, you’re jus’ divine.. Gonna marry you and then ‘m gonna fuck you so much that your body wouldn’t be able to escape pregnancy— You want my babies, don’t you? Say yes, tell me you want me as much as I want you…” Satoru was very obviously close, the trembling and the rambles were a tell tale sign.

You found yourself mindlessly nodding to everything he said, and it wasn’t long before he was shooting another load deep into you. You thought he was done, before he was grabbing your chubby thighs, hoisting your legs up, and locking your body into a full nelson position.

As he drilled his long cock into you once more, it was simply too much for you. You gave in, mind going blank as he slammed into you, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes were glazed over, tears still falling. Your mouth hung open as overstimulated whimpers left your lips. You came a fifth time, but you were so far gone, you didn’t even notice.

“L-Look at you,” Satoru said, his lips pressing against your shoulder, “Too much for you, yeah? Look so pretty like this, sweet girl. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m cummin’ too quick—!” Satoru was overstimulated himself, but that didn’t stop him. As he came a third time, the both of your fluids slathered all over his dick as he dropped you from the nelson, and flipped you onto your hands and knees.

“Need more of you,” he rasped, spreading your ass as he messily spread his cum around your pussy and thighs, before stuffing you full once more. He pressed kisses into your spine, as he gripped your ass, fucking you from behind.

The sex was depraved, as Satoru fucked you like a man starved. You were too far gone, drooling into the couch as he fucked you like you both were dying tomorrow. But, it wasn’t long before he was finally slowing down, heavy balls squeezing as he began to have dry orgasms.

Finally, he pulled out, scooping your barely there, sex-addled body up and carrying you to his bed. He dropped down into bed, you on top of him as he threw the blankets over the two of you.

He pressed kisses to your face, and then your lips, as he whispered, “Even if we die tonight, then I’ll die yours, and you’ll die mine.” Somehow you managed to reciprocate, as exhaustion slowly claimed you. “So then, I’ll die here under you; every night, all night.”

The last thing you heard before you passed out, were Satoru’s whispered love confessions, and promises for the future.

Your honeymoon phase of the relationship seemed to be forever, although things in town got harder. People were more openly racist; vandalizing your home, your father’s grave, and your mother managed to somehow overwork herself to death. You were now alone, in an empty house, and with an empty heart. Save for Satoru.

Where darkness lingered in the corners of your life, he was the light that banished all of it. To escape, he often drove you to Nebraska, far enough but still close. The two of you found an abandoned house on the outskirts of the state. A single two-floor house. You loved it utterly.

Satoru was a bit of a criminal, stealing a bobby pin from your hair and picking the lock. Managing to get into the house, so you could see the interior. It wasn’t like anyone was there to care. When you were there, the two of you cleaned up the house, and pretended like it was your own place. It was the place where you found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor.

Months passed. Then a year. Satoru turned twenty, then so did you. Like your last birthday, it was spent in love, and in a sex-crazed haze. You two pave your own road, feet weathering the trail to the house in Nebraska, leaving your mark. It’s in the spring, when you two are at the house, and Satoru gets on one knee, pulling out a golden ring with a bright diamond.

“When I came home after graduation, I told my mama I was gon’ marry you,” he said matter of factually, “She asked me if you knew that. I told her no, but you would eventually. So now, I’m askin’ you if you’ll bless me by being my wife.”

You screamed yes so loud, the two of you were sure you alerted others of your presence.

Your engagement angered the town. Although Satoru was a person of color too, they were sure he looked best with a white girl. It got to the point where they got violent with you. Calling you slurs, and being so racist, you became afraid to leave Satoru’s side.

But, it was okay — because you two stuck together, always.

You prepared for your wedding as best as you could in your anxious state. Satoru’s mother even bought you a wedding dress — from one of your favorite brands, Vivienne Westwood. Vivienne made the most beautiful wedding dresses.

However, your hometown was getting overwhelming. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at any given moment. Satoru knew it was time to go.

He told his mother that he had to get you out of here — there was nothing but pain for you here. He couldn’t let you live like this. She understood, more than anything. She handed Satoru a wad of cash, telling him to visit soon.

He bought the house in Nebraska. How he found the owner, you never found out. But he bought that fucking house, and you two packed your bags and you never fucking looked back.

Nebraska was nice. You didn’t go into town often because of your anxiety, but Satoru assured you it was fine. You loved your home. You loved your future husband. You were soothed, and nothing could ruin it.

Until one day, Satoru didn’t come home from visiting his mother. You opted out that time, feeling a bit sick, and not up for the long drive. You got the call from his mother. You barely remembered anything but the words, ‘Shooting. Hospital. Coma.’ And you were catching the bus to Alabama.

You never wanted to return home, but you had to. You didn’t let them turn you away or shame you. You joined his mother in the hospital. And soon after you got there, after you held his hand, and sobbed his name, and kissed his face, and as if he was waiting for you, Satoru Gojo passed away.

The story was that Satoru got into an altercation with a group of men who said some horrible things about you. Even when they threatened him with a gun, he didn’t back down. He was always so protective when it came to you, and it killed him. And now, you were the reason that he won’t come home.

The birthday wish you made didn’t come true. Because the love of your life was gone, and you were so alone.

You stayed for his funeral. Open casket. Unlike everyone else, you didn’t wear black. You wore your wedding dress, and a veil. You were a widow, even though you hadn’t even gotten married yet. You never would. His mother held you by the waist, crying silently as she guided you to his casket. And as you leaned down to press a final kiss to his dead cold lips, nobody said a thing to you.

You disappeared soon after, with gentle words to his mother.

You retreated to your house in Nebraska, where you needed him. Months pass, and you need him still. You rot away in that house, plagued by memories. His scent still lingers on his untouched clothes, and sometimes you open the drawers to smell.

His mama calls sometimes, to see if you’re doing well. You lie to her and say that you’re doing fine. When really you’d kill yourself to hold him one more time.

You manage to force yourself to go to town, to buy things. You cry every day, and the bottles make it worse — because he was the only person you weren’t scared to tell you hurt.

And you feel so alone. You feel so alone out here. You feel so alone without him. You’re so alone out here, and you miss him more than anything. Every day, waking up without him warming you, breathing air that he does not share, it breaks you piece by piece. You feel so alone.

More months pass and you turn twenty-one alone. And you realize you can’t continue life like this.

You feel so alone.

On your twenty-first birthday, you put on your wedding dress, the one you never got to walk down the aisle in. You pick up the pills, sobbing as you whimper, “I’m so alone out here without you, baby.” You down the pills.

You remember all of this as you die, life flashing before your eyes. You’re curled up in your bed, now clutching one of his shirts to your chest. It’s like you fall asleep, despite the toxicity causing your body to fail. You finally die.

You wake up in a garden of flowers. Lillies of the valley, to be exact. You look around wildly. Cloudless blue sky, and flowers to be seen for days. You’re in your wedding dress. Is this what the afterlife is like? An endless, calming flower field? A breeze ruffles you. You begin to walk. Time doesn’t seem to pass here, because you can’t tell if it’s been seconds or days.

You know you’re dead, but why are you here?

“Y/N?”

You freeze. You know that voice. Tears fill your eyes, and you turn slowly. There he is. That ruffled white hair, bright blue eyes staring into you. You see the tears that well in his eyes, mirroring yours. “What are you doing here?” He cries, and he’s rushing to you, and he’s gathering you in his arms, cupping your face. You’re shaking your head and sobbing, because it’s him, it’s him and he’s here and you can hold him again.

“What’re you doing here, dream girl?” He sobs and he’s pressing his lips to yours, kissing you as if you’ll fade away. The kiss is salty as you two hold on to each other, tears mingling. When the two of you finally break away, he’s still holding your face, as you sob out, “I was so alone without you, Satoru! I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t live without you!”

He sobs harder and holds you against his chest, which is bloodied. “You killed yourself?” You nod ashamed, but he didn’t yell at you, or judge you. He never, ever has. He holds you, pressing kisses into your face, your hair. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want to leave you — I held on, I held on until you came, and I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to survive,” he cried into your hair, “Leaving you hurt so much. It hurt more than getting shot did. We were supposed to have so much time. We were supposed to get married and have babies and die together when we old a-and, we didn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whimper back, as he squeezes you tight, tighter than he ever has. If you were alive, you’d be struggling to breathe. “But I wish you would’ve let it go. Let it go and came home to me.”

Satoru doesn’t respond, instead he’s pulling away to kiss you again. “I wish I did too. I would’ve came back to our house in Nebraska, where the world was empty, save you and I. But at least we’re here. I don’t know where it is, but this is where I’ve been. Waiting for you to come. I just want expecting it so soon.” He sniffles, obviously sad.

“I had nothing left for me,” you whispered, as the two of you lace your fingers together, “I needed you still. I… I was horrible.”

“I visited you in your sleep a lot,” Satoru admitted, as the two of you began to walk. “It was the only time I could. I watched you sleep, all the time. You slept with my shirts. It made me feel good.”

You lean against him, he’s warm and he smells just as though you remember. You two walk, for a while, talking about the future you deserved.

Until you reach a house.

A house identical to your house in Nebraska.

“Well, I’ll be,” Satoru whispered, obviously shocked, turning to look at you. Tears were falling down your cheeks as you smiled, whispering, “Guess you’re stuck with me, even in death.”

“Wouldn’t wanna be stuck anywhere else,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled a bobby pin out of your hair, and just like old times, Satoru picked the lock to the door.

You two stuck together; in life and death, and you still call home that house in Nebraska.

[missymurphy1985]

The Call

This was another request: So y/n is younger than Cill, she overs here's a call he's on with his management basically trying to convince him to leave her, so she goes upstairs to pack up because well she's not staying around when she's not wanted & Cillian finds her doing this and he's like no no no let me show me how much I want you around 😉

Warnings - talk of separation, smut

Turning the key in the lock you carefully opened the door as quietly as possible. Knowing Cillian, he was taking a nap in the lounge and you didn't want to disturb him. 12 hour days filming six days a week, he'd come home yesterday completely exhausted.

Instead of his light snoring, you were surprised to hear him talking on Skype to his agent in the study across the hallway. You smiled, before making your way to the door to let him know you were home, bottle of wine in hand when you froze.

"So, I'd get more scripts if I wasn't with y/n?" You heard Cillian ask his agent. You didn't move, you could barely breathe.

"Cillian, this is having a severe impact on your credibility! Producers aren't taking you seriously anymore, they're seeing you as a sugar daddy! Y/n is barely out of university, and you're pushing 50 here!" His agent was almost laughing.. you were sure you even heard Cillian chuckle at one point.

"Right... So it looks like we've got this all figured out then doesn't it?"

"Absolutely!! It's so simple Cill, everyone loves a single Dad!"

You'd heard enough. Tears burning your eyes, you tiptoed up the stairs, still with the wine in your hand, and made your way to your bedroom. Once you were sure you were out of earshot you allowed a sob to leave you as you leaned against the closed door, before grabbing an overnight bag from the closet. Taking a deep breath, and opening the wine to take a quick slug from it, you started to pack. All those times he'd told you he loved you... You completed him... Lies! He'd exchange you for Hollywood in a heartbeat!!! Well no... This wasn't going down that way - there's no way he's breaking YOUR heart when you can break HIS first....

Taking another swig from the bottle you took another deep breath and continued packing, not realising how loud your footsteps had become. The bedroom door suddenly swung open, and Cillian stood in the doorway, completely confused.

"Er... Y/n? Everything okay up here? I didn't hear you come home?"

"I didn't want to disturb your call.. you sounded busy." You voice was as deadpan as you could make it. You couldn't even look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" You stopped, tears escaping your eyes too quickly to stop them.

"I heard you... I heard the call Cillian..."

"What call?" He approached you from behind and tried to put his arms around you but you pulled away. Turning to face him, you brought a hand up to slap the side of his face. "The fuck y/n?!?" You'd never slapped him before.. part of you felt an instant regret but the anger was burning inside you.

"Don't fucking play dumb with me, I heard you!! You'd get more scripts if you didn't have the 25year old homewrecker on your arm! You'd be more credibility as a single Dad!" Cillians eyes widened.. no... No no no..

"How much of that call did you hear, exactly?"

"Enough!!"

"Wrong!! You didn't hear fucking HALF of it!! You didn't hear me end the call, did you?" His voice raised now. "When I told him never to call me again. Never to even claim to represent me. That he was fired?? Did you hear that??" You stood frozen again, looking into his eyes. Your tears were drying up, but his looked close to spilling. "To have someone try and tell me how to live my life... Tell me who I can and can't spend my life with... he did the same thing with Natalie.. he wants me to be an eternal bachelor... that my career would take off if I wasn't seeing someone 20 years younger..." His voiced cracked at the thought of losing you.

"It worked with Natalie. Yes, she was the mother of my kids, but there was never a real connection with her.. I allowed it to happen without realising he was responsible for it... But you? I can't live without you y/n... The age difference has never bothered me.." he walked towards you again, pulling the bottle of wine out your hand and placing it on the chest of drawers in the corner. Picking the handles up on the overnight bag on your bed and throwing it to the floor. Needed it out of the way for what he was about to do.

"How do I know you won't change your mind one day? How do I know you mean it? You could trade me in for a younger model one day!"

"I'll show you how much I want you, and will always want you - close your eyes." His voice took a darker tone now, which always drove you wild. You closed you eyes as you felt his lips slowly start to kiss down your neck.. he turned you back round again so your back was pressing against his chest, as his fingers began to unbutton your blouse. "Keep them closed, baby..." He saw your eyelids flutter in the full length mirror in front of you both. He pulled your blouse off and let it fall to the floor, swiftly followed by your bra. Your jeans and panties soon came down your legs too, and he brought himself back up minus his T shirt.. his now bare chest hair tickling your back making you giggle.

His hands explored your upper whole body... Pressing your breasts, kneading them gently and loving hearing the moans of complete passion emitting from your beautiful lips... Before sinking a hand down to rest between your thighs, gently tapping them to allow him access. Happily granting it, he sunk a finger down to collect as much moisture as he could before circling your clit expertly, knowing exactly how to make you squirm underneath him. Holding you firmly round the waist with one hand, as the other mercilessly assaulted the small bundle of nerves between your legs, you squeezed your eyes closer together and allowed your head to fall back onto his shoulder. You couldn't move from the waist down, he had such a tight grip on you.

"Fuck... Cill... Keep going.. don't stop... Oh god..." He smiled, kissing into your bare neck as your moans became louder, he could feel your core burning now... You felt your orgasm screaming from inside as Cillian increased the pace.

"I've got you... Open those eyes baby.. watch yourself cum on my fingers, yeah?" You opened them to see yourself in the mirror, Cillians hand buried between your thighs and you couldn't help but feel the pure eroticism from it - fuck his hand looked good there.... Within seconds you could feel that orgasm approaching, no stopping it, it completely drowned you as your tried to buck your hips, held in place by Cillians strong arms. He swiftly inserted two fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around them as you came hard over his hand. Twitching those fingers upwards slightly to find that sweet spot, making you cry out again.

"No more.... I wanna taste you now..." You span round to face him and kissed him, tongues clashing together as you fiddled with the buttons on his jeans - his erection clear as day through the fabric. They dropped to the floor and you followed, still in front of the mirror as you took him down your throat, teeth catching along the way gently. His hands coming to rest in your hair.

"Ah... Holy fuck y/n..." You groaned into his cock as your hands rolled his balls between your fingers, emitting more groans from above you. "Stop baby... Need to fuck you now y/n... Let me in yeah..." He lifted you up to stand again, before backing you onto the bed. Opening your legs he lined himself up and pushed inside, condoms long gone since you'd moved in together. If it happened, it happened.

Taking it slow, he moved his hips against yours, trying to find that sweet spot inside again. He heard you gasp, there it was. Your fingernails dug into his back, and his thrusts became almost maniacal - he was pounding you with reckless abandon now, making your screams echo off the walls. Thank fuck your neighbours weren't home... He wasn't holding back now - sitting up on his knees, he lifted your hips for deeper access, thumb rubbing your swollen clit to bring you your second orgasm. You clenched your cunt round his cock hard, squeezing him, watching his eyes squint and mouth gasp as you did..

"Need to cum y/n... Cum with me.... Let me feel it all over me...."

"I'm coming... I am... Baby I'm gonna..." You had no voice now as your second orgasm exploded through you, and Cillians followed with a loud groan as he collapsed on top of you, kisses raining back down your neck, gentler this time. Lifting his head to rest it over yours, he looked into your eyes softly.

"Don't ever feel like you're not enough for me y/n... Promise me?" You nodded in agreement.

"Don't trade me in for a younger model when I turn 40, and you've got a deal Mr Murphy." You tried to hold back a laugh but couldn't help it, both of you now chuckling.

"Don't get Botox or any of that crazy weird shit, and you've got a deal."

"Don't be coming near me with ANYTHING from Ann Summers, and you've got a deal." He pouted. Clearly busted looking at the costumes online.

Both of you fell silent. A comfortable silence that you both sank into, before rolling under the covers to nap together.

"You're stuck with me now, you know that? I'm agentless, I might never work again!" He laughed again, and so did you.

"That's okay, save a fortune on childcare." He smiled. That was true. After spending so much time away from his boys as young kids, he was looking forward to spending as much time as possible with a new baby, if they were lucky enough to have one together. Despite his age, he felt he had plenty of time left for another baby.

"I hope it happens, you'll be an amazing mother y/n. I can't wait." A loving hand over your, for now empty, stomach, you felt butterflies. Embracing him as he lay behind you, you both fell into a deep sleep, surrounded by dreams of your own little family.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @cloudofdisney @margoo0 @being-worthy

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

Tags:

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

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@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

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@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 7

SEVEN - SERENDIPITY

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“Okay, that’s ridiculous!” Bucky mumbles around a spoonful of fruit loops.

“What is?”

“This,” he responds and points his now empty spoon accusingly at John Cusack. “This whole fate thing. The book, sure, might happen. But the dollar bill? Never!”

(Y/N) puts her empty bowl on the couch table, turning her body towards Bucky and sitting in a criss-cross style. “You telling me you don’t believe in fate and soulmates and that some people are destined to be together.”

“No,” Bucky retorts in a tone that implies it was a silly question to even ask him. “I am 106 years old. If those things were true you'd think I would've found my destined partner by now."

"Maybe you have" (Y/N) shrugs. "Maybe it's Leah. Have you called her anyway?"

Bucky looks down sheepishly into the colorful milk swirling through his bowl. "No."

“ What? Why not? “

“Because it hasn’t — oh I don't know. It just hasn’t felt right.”

He’d been debating on giving her a call many times, never actually going through with it. At first, it was for a fear of failure, rejection. Now though, Leah doesn’t cross his mind as much as before. His thoughts, he noticed recently, are occupied by another person. And it wouldn't be fair to Leah or himself to try and build something on shaky ground at best.

“ Dude, I’m educating you on romance and you are too afraid to call this girl? “

“ Educating me? You are forcing me to watch rom coms. “

“ Forcing you? “ (Y/N) gasps and dramatically slaps her hand to her chest right above where her heart is. “ Are you saying you’re not having fun? “

There’s a smirk on her face, tiny and barely there but he notices it anyway. He’s started noticing the small things. Like how her nose scrunches up when she smiles and how she twiddles with her fingers when she’s nervous.

“ If I didn’t have fun I wouldn’t be here. “ Bucky replies and bumps his leg against her knee. Truth be told, he’d be here anyway. Even if she’d make him watch the most boring movie in the entire world he’d stay right there with her. Sometimes the world doesn't seem so rough and ruthless when she’s there beside him. Sometimes he feels like he could genuinely be happy.

“ Good, “ (Y/N) responds and places a quick kiss on his cheek that very nearly gives him a heart attack. Soft touches are something she grants him every so often and while he is getting used to it, it’s still foreign. It’s something he enjoys quite a lot though.

“Anyway, soulmates finding their way back to each other despite all odds is such a rom-com stable. Like the kiss in the rain or the airport chase or the top-of-the-stairs-moment.”

“ The what ? “

(Y/N) scoffs at him as if she’s never been asked a more ridiculous question in her life.

“ The moment when the girl gets a makeover or she dresses up in some ballgown and her love interest waits at the bottom of the stairs for her and when he sees her he’s so enamored and enchanted by her and ideally there’s some cheesy 90s love song playing in the background. And she meets him at the bottom, walking in slow motion obviously, and they don’t kiss or anything but the looks they share are enough to let the audience know what they feel for one another.”

Her words are heavy with passion and longing and magic and for a second Bucky wishes, he could be the one to give her that moment.

“ But okay, grumpy. You go on not believing in soulmates. I’ll change your mind one day, trust me.”

He doesn’t doubt it for a second.

They sink back into their blissful calm as John Cusak and Kate Beckinsale reconnect on the ice rink in front of Rockefeller Center as an ocean of Christmas lights twinkles in the background.

“ I’ve never been ice skating there. Been living here for so many years now and that’s still something I’ve never done. “ (Y/N) pipes up, a longing swinging alone with her words. “ Have you? “

“ Mmmh. Used to take a lot of girls on dates there. “

“ Oh sorry, I forgot you were a big charmer back in the day. “

“ Saw the first-ever Christmas tree getting set up in 1933. '' he continues to say. Sometimes talking about the past makes him sad. It’s a time he will never be able to go back to. A man he will never be again.

But sometimes, like today, he’s able to recall little snippets of memories and remember how he felt in that exact moment. And those are worth all the pain that thinking about the future might bring.

“ That — is weird flex but actually really cool. “

Bucky doesn’t think of himself as cool. He’s a grumpy 106-year-old who is completely disillusioned with the world around him. If (Y/N) thinks so though, he’s not gonna try to change her mind.

She snuggles back into him, body leaning against the smooth vibranium arm. A part of him he never felt really belonged to himself. Something he had been given to kill, to defend, to fight. If something so dangerous can be a place of comfort to her, Maybe, he thinks, it’s not so bad after all. Maybe sometimes you just have to let go of the part and change your perspective of things.

For a while, they get lost in the movie, in the fictional love of two strangers. He remembers the romance novels his mothers used to read. The way she would get lost in them. Maybe to escape her own life for just a second and follow along with the stories and the people that seemed so much grander than her own existence as a housewife stuck in a life that seems too small to contain her in all her wonderful glory. His mother, Bucky always knew even at a young age, deserved more than she had been given. She was smart and funny and she loved her kids as much as a heart could love another. But her days were dull and her marriage was one of convenience more than anything. She had ideas, beautiful stories swirled around her head, and she’d tell them to him and his sister before she’d tuck them into bed. And yet that is where they stayed, in her mind and in her children's memories. She was never resentful though. She took things as they came and she made them beautiful.

He wonders sometimes, what would’ve come from her ideas if she had been given the chance to tell them to a bigger audience. She could’ve put those rom-coms to shame.

A knock on the front door startles (Y/N), making her get up from the couch and follow LAdy towards the entrance. There’s a definite lack of warmth where she used to be and Bucky feels himself missing her already.

“ It’s probably Robin, she left her favorite jacket here the other — mom? “

The air fills with a chaotic mix of several voices one speaking over the other while the charm on Lady’s collar underlines it all with a jingling sound like that of a small bell.

Before he can even think about how to react, (Y/N) steps back into the living room followed by two more people. A woman who looks like an older version of her and a man. They seem lost in conversation still, talking about their travel to NYC and the fact that the man, who Bucky assumes is (Y/N)’s father, refused to ask for directions.

That’s until their eyes fall on Bucky. The woman regards him with a gentle smile on her face, polite and warm as mothers usually are. The man though. There’s something in his eyes, in his demeanor, that changed once he set sight on Bucky and it doesn’t feel good. Bucky knows what it’s like to be recognized. People see him and then they see all the bodies left in his wake, all the blood on his hands, all the pain and the suffering and the —

“ Sergeant Barnes. “

They used to call him that in Wakanda, as a sign of respect, he believes. To make him realize that they do not see him as the thread he used to be but the man he once was. Other than that it’s been a long time since people referred to him as Sergeant Barnes. It’s a title he takes pride in, something he worked hard for. It also belongs to a man he isn’t anymore. Bucky isn’t sure he still earns it. Still owns it.

“ Uh — hello. “

“Dad, “ (Y/N) says and pushes past her parents to stand next to Bucky. Her hand rests on his arm as a sign of comfort and reassurance. He appreciates it very much. “ Mom. This is Bucky. “

“ I can’t believe it. “ her father exclaims, still not taking his eyes off of Bucky.

“ Dad. “

“ I can not believe it. I can’t believe you! “

There it is. Although Bucky has always been very aware that he wasn’t nearly worth (Y/N)’s time, having it thrown in his face hurts more than he likes to admit.

“ Dad … “

“ You know James Barnes, and you tell me nothing about it? (Y/N) I’ve — I’ve spent so much time researching this man revising all the information people before me have gathered and making sure his legacy and his place in Steve Rogers' life get acknowledged and now I’d have the chance to ask him personally and you — you keep it a secret from me? “

Wait … what ?

“ Bucky, “ (Y/N) says and looks up at him with her gorgeous eyes that never seem to fail at calming him down. “These are my parents and as you can tell, my dad’s a big fan of yours. “

The next few minutes are a chaos of handshakes and nice-to-meet-yous and hugs. Her mother hugs Bucky real tightly, the way mothers do when they know someone needs a hug. And she doesn’t flinch when she feels the metal arm. She just hugs him a little tighter.

“ Why are you guys here? “ (Y/N) asks as her father throws an arm around her shoulder

“ Well, you asked us to look after Lady while you’re gone. “ her mother replies as if it’s the obvious answer.

“ Yeah, but we don’t leave until Friday afternoon. It’s Thursday. “

“ That is truuuue. But dad and I thought we’d surprise you and take you out for a nice dinner since we won’t be spending Christmas together, we thought we could at least try to make up for it. “

(Y/N) shakes her head at her mother’s words. “ I told you guys, it’s not a big deal. You go enjoy your cruise. “

“ And we will but you’re our girl and we want to take you out for dinner. Give your old parents that much, will you” her father jokes and ruffles her hair as if she was just a little girl and maybe she is in that moment, wrapped in his arms.

“ I uh — Bucky and I had plans. “

“ What plans? “ her mother asks, eyebrows raised.

“ Watching movies. “

“ Oh, those aren’t plans. Go get dressed! “

“ And James will obviously come with us, “ her dad adds “ I am not done asking him questions. “

It’s not December yet but the restaurant is already decked out in Christmas lights and tastefully placed sparkly ornaments. The soft lull of Christmas carols being played on a piano flows through the room and Bucky is thankful to discover that while so much has changed, many of those songs have stayed the same. Maybe things aren’t all different right now. Maybe the fundamental things have stayed the same. Like the feeling of being with your family sitting by the tree, singing songs that have been passed down from your parents to you.

(Y/N) sits next to him, lips painted the exact same shade of red as her slouchy knit sweater. She looks so cozy and comfortable and soft and if he’s being really honest with himself, all he wants to do is hold her tight and get lost in her warmth. But this is good, as good as it can ever get, really. Sitting next to her, across from her parents who have been nothing but kind to him. They’re eating good food, drinking delicious drinks and her parents are sharing funny and slightly embarrassing stories about (Y/N). This is the first time he’s meeting anyone’s parents as the man he is now. And even back in the 40s things weren’t this calm and easy. If you went to meet a woman’s parents you better came prepared. This feels nice. Like he gets to be part of a family for just a teeny tiny moment.

“ So, how long have you guys been together? “ her mother asks around a fork of tiramisu. While Bucky only looks at her with wide eyes, (Y/N) almost chokes on her wine.

“ Mom, we’re — not. We’re friends. “

“ Oh,” her mother replies, looking unconvinced as her eyes move back and forth between (Y/N) and Bucky “ I guess I must’ve read that wrong. Shame, you would make adorable babies. “

“ Mom!”

Bucky’s sure his cheeks are the same color as her sweater and her lips and her fingernails. A beautiful bright red. Like a Santa’s hat.

“ I know, babe. You’re an independent woman who makes her own decisions and if you decide not to have babies that’s alright with us. As long as you are happy, so are we. Lady makes for a wonderful substitute grandchild. Just sayin’ if you were to have babies with Bucky they would turn out really cute. “

“ Okay, how about we stop talking about my imaginary potential future children, huh? You go tell me more about work, dad. How about that? “

As her dad starts talking about some history classes he teaches and the students, Bucky notices the change in (Y/N)’s demeanor. Her laid-back ease is gone. She keeps fidgeting with her hair and the rings on her hand. Without really thinking about it, like his body is working on autopilot, Bucky reaches out and grabs her hand under the table. It’s still weird, touching soft skin with his metal hand without the intention of inflicting pain. It’s nice though. It’s wonderful.

She doesn’t let go for a long time.

Restrooms in restaurants are places where time is slightly altered. You’re sheltered from the noises of the main room but they’re still faintly audible through the door. The clinking of glasses and cutlery, the laughter, and the voices as they flow together like waves in an ocean.

It feels like you get a break from the real world for just a moment. To catch yourself. To take a breath. To look at yourself in the mirror and decide your next steps as the music sounds from the overhead speakers in a duller version as if someone wrapped the lyrics in thick cotton padding.

(Y/N) washes her hands while looking at her reflection. Today’s a good day. It’s not going the way she has expected it but it’s a good day nonetheless. Bucky and her parents get along like a house on fire. It’s a nice feeling but it also makes her so acutely aware of all the what-ifs floating around her head and her heart. Would it feel like this if she and Bucky were more than friends? Would it feel this — right?

Before her mind can come up with an answer to her own question, the door to the restrooms swings open letting in a sliver of the noise outside. Her mother steps in and looks at her with that signature mom smile. Like she knows you better than you know yourself. And maybe that isn’t entirely wrong.

“ Your dad and I are going to take a cab to the hotel. We’ll come over to yours tomorrow before you leave. Is that okay? Bucky said he’d walk you home.”

Of course, he’d say that. He’s a gentleman. He’s Bucky.

“ Sure that’s fine. I’m glad you guys came a day early. I missed you. “

“ We missed you too, baby,” she responds and pulls (Y/N) into a hug.

“ Now tell me something,” she says and takes (Y/N)’s face in between her hands. “ You and Bucky. There’s something there. “

(Y/N) shakes free from her mother's touch and faces the mirror, leaning both hands against the marble sink. “ Mom, can you leave it. “

“ I see the way you guys look at each other. I — you haven’t been this happy in so long. He makes you happy. “

As she lifts her head and looks into her own eyes in the mirror, (Y/N) feels a flood of emotions wash over her. Emotions she’s tried so hard to suppress and others she wasn’t even aware were there in the first place. And it’s all comes crashing down pulling her under and spitting her back out.

“ So what if he makes me happy. We’re not gonna happen. I can not lose a friend and he can’t either. It would kill us both. “

“ Oh honey, “ she goes to pull (Y/N) into another hug but she just shakes her head in response.

“ No. No, mom. It’s okay. I’m okay with it being the way it is. “

“ Are you sure? “

Is she? (Y/N) looks back at herself. You think you know yourself and what you want and how you feel and then someone asks you, truthfully asks you if you’re sure. And you can only stare and wonder. Well, are you?

And sometimes it’s way easier to lie, to both the other person and yourself, than to really face your fears and your feelings and everything you do or don’t understand about yourself.

“ Yeah. I am sure. “

It’s true. New York City never seems to fully go to sleep. There’s always a light on somewhere, guiding you through the dark, guiding you home.

It doesn’t fully go to sleep but it slows down. The air gets heavier, the noise gets quieter.

(Y/N) and Bucky slowly make their way through the familiar streets of their neighborhood as the city lights and the stars fight over who gets to shine more brightly upon them.

It’s a chilly evening, winter is truly just around the corner, and the air feels pregnant with the promise of snow and yet (Y/N) feels a warmth course through her that is unlike any other. A warmth that can only be brought on by being with your loved ones.

“ It’s a lovely night,” she says as her heels create a clip-clap sound against the pavement.

Bucky has his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket and his ever-present scowl decorates his face and yet, even Bucky can’t deny that it is a lovely night. One with so much potential. For — for lovers.

“ It really is.”

“ If life was a movie, “ (Y/N) says “ this would be when we realized that we're in love"

Bucky only raises his eyebrow at her, pushing her to elaborate. And maybe it’s a bit selfish. Maybe he just wants to hear her entertain the thought of them two as something more for just a little bit longer. Even if it’s just pretend.

“ We’d get a montage of some quirky dates that we didn’t realize were dates. Then the camera would pan down on us tonight, walking underneath the stars, the city lights glowing around us. There’d be some piano music in the background to set the mood. We’d have a deep talk about our fears or messed up childhoods or the meaning of life. And then you’d make me laugh and I’d accidentally hold your hand. You’d drop me off at my door, think about kissing my lips but then end up kissing my forehead. Once you leave I’d lean against my door, sink down to my floor, and grin like a fool because that’s the moment I realize I am in love with you and the audience would sigh in relief because they knew all along. “

“ That sounds nice,” Bucky replies, eyes staring into the distance as he tries to picture it all, safe it as a mental snapshot to go back to in quiet moments.

“ Yeah, well what a shame life is not a movie and we’re not in love. What a waste of a lovely night. “

“ Guess it’s perfect for a couple, huh? “ Bucky has to agree with her.

“ Mmmh. Or at least someone not in heels, “ (Y/N) jokes looking down at her shoes.

“ You want me to find a couple? Gift our night to them ? “ Bucky asks as they continue their journey down the Brooklyn streets.

“ Absolutely not, sir! “ (Y/N) responds and links her arm with his as she pulls him along. “ I like our night. I want to keep it for ourselves. “

And so they continue their walk home. Words that want to be said, that need to be said, hang heavy in the air, and yet they both decide to stay quiet and just enjoy the silence and comfort of their lovely little night.

The door feels like mocking her as it comes into view, cutting their moment short, putting an end to this blissful night.

She doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want to go inside and quite literally close the door to all the possibilities this night seems to hold out to her. If she was just brave enough to reach out and grab them.

(Y/N) unlock the door and turns back around to face Bucky. Something seems to hang in the air right between them and that feeling only gets stronger as their eyes lock. For a moment all there is, is silence and an abundance of unspoken words. And a fear that comes with speaking them. Of messing something up. Of being vulnerable.

Bucky smiles at her then. She loves his smile. It’s so rare but it’s so beautiful to look at. It gives you the feeling of having done something right.

“ Thanks for today, “ he says as if there’s anything to thank her for.

“ For what? “

“ Letting me be a part of your family. Thought maybe you didn’t want your parents to know about me. Thanks for — not being ashamed of me or anything. “

“ Oh Bucky, “ she says and grabs his hand, “ You are my friend and I love you. I’d never be ashamed of you. If anything I’m a little embarrassed by the way my dad kept pestering you with questions. Uh — why are you looking at me like that. “

“ You love me? “ his voice comes out but a mere whisper and his eyes are wide in shock.

“ Yes. You’re my friend, I love you. Bucky when — when was the last time someone told you they love you? “ (Y/N) asks as her hand softly strokes the side of his face.

“ 1942 “

“ Well, guess I’ll have to keep reminding you then, make up for lost time. I love you, Bucky Barnes. “

She can’t even blink before she’s wrapped up in his arms. Despite what one would think, Bucky is always warm. Even the vibranium arm. Everything radiates warmth and comfort. She could stay here forever.

Slowly he pulls away, looks deep into her eyes, lowers his head, and places his lips against her forehead. “ I love you too. “

He smiles at her once more then leaves. And while she won't admit it to anyone, ever, (Y/N) goes inside, leans against her door, sinks to the floor, and doesn't even try to suppress the foolish smile spreading on her lips.

Robin’s laughter fills the halls of the beautiful Inn where just tomorrow she’ll say I do.

“ This was your doing! You scheming little shit.” (Y/N) grumbles from the corner of her mouth as she slides up to Robin.

“ It wasn’t, “ the red-haired girl laughs “ but I wish it was. It’s hilarious.“

Redstone Lodge is a beautiful Inn located in upstate New York. It looks out onto a lake and is surrounded by lots and lots of Christmas trees all year round. It’s made of bricks and big wooden panels. Very rustic and yet cozy and elegant. In the yard, there’s a huge tent with a wooden floor and a see-through roof. That’s where the reception will be held tomorrow.

Redstone Lodge has 35 rooms all of which have been distributed to the various guests. They’re beautiful rooms with nice decor and comfortable beds. Well — a bed. One. Singular.

“ This is like some fanfiction trope, Robin. There is only one bed? “

“ Look," Robin says and pulls (Y/N) closer “ if you want to switch, find someone to switch with. I’m sure someone is willing to. But I’m just saying that if you two are friends, shouldn’t you be able to sleep in a bed together and not make it weird? “

She has a point and she knows it and she also knows that (Y/N) knows it.

Huffing a breath of annoyance (Y/N) grumbles an “okay fine” before letting Robin be taken hostage by yet another overly excited aunt and returns to Bucky’s side as he stands on the front steps looking out into the vast area. It really is a beautiful place to get married.

“ Hey so uh — bad news is that this is the only room they have so we’ll have to share a bed. Good news is they got some movies to take up to the room and I found some really dope rom-coms. “

“It's okay, don't worry. I promise I won't hog the blanket,” Bucky says and nods his head into the direction of the lake “ wanna take a walk? “

“ Sure. Yeah, why not. “

In all honesty (Y/N) isn’t the biggest fan of walking around the woods with no particular destination in mind and yet she can’t help but feel a sense of happiness fill her as she links her arm with Bucky’s once again.

She realized a while ago that she tends to gravitate towards his left side. It isn’t a conscious decision but maybe it’s a good one nonetheless.

Maybe it’ll show him that every part of him is worth loving, even the ones he doesn’t love himself.

“ When was the last time you did something crazy? “

He doesn’t like the way those words sound tumbling from her lips. He does, however, like very much how her eyes sparkle in the light of the setting sun. Their walk had turned into a bit of a hike and by the time they’ve finally made it back to the lake, the sun is about to set. Everyone seems to have retreated back into the lodge, maybe to sit by the big cozy fireplace or up to their room with their several beds. More than one. plural.

Bucky doesn’t want to let go of their time together though. Not yet. Just a little bit longer. And if that means agreeing to one of her weird ideas, so be it.

"Uh well, I fought aliens a few months ago."

"Huh … well see that's not an answer I was prepared for I mean more like, when did you last do something stupid but fun?"

“Like dancing in the middle of a street or having a cake fight in a parking lot?”

“Yeah …. like that.”

She looks at him again with that mischief and that softness. Like a mix of all things that make you feel alive shine back at him from her eyes.

“Wanna go swimming?” (Y/N) asks and smirks at him.

“Now? It’s freezing.”

“ I know,” she replies and shrugs her shoulders “ and I know it’s silly and dumb and we’ll probably get sick but I kinda wanna do it anyway. Wait … can you get sick?”

“Huh?”

“Because of the serum.”

“You know, they didn’t exactly give me a manual when they injected it so — guess we’ll have to find out.”

“So you’re in?”

Bucky only nods his head in agreement. She doesn’t need to know that he’d agree to anything she suggests. Any little thing.

The woods around them are dark and thick and where they probably should be scary they are comforting now. They’re a shelter from the eyes of onlookers. A safe roof and walls to keep their little bubble safe and hold their moment tight and safe.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” (Y/N) hisses through clenched teeth as the water reaches up to her shoulders, the straps of her yellow bra the only colors shining through the dark night.

Don’t think about it. He has to tell himself. Don’t think about the fact that she’s only in her underwear. Don’t think about her soft skin and her smile and what her body feels like against yours. Don’t!

He doesn’t have to scold himself for too long before a cold splash of water hits him right in the face.

“Oh, you made a mistake” Bucky calls out to a laughing (Y/N) who tries her best to tread water and get as far away from him as possible but fails to do so, being wrapped up in his arms only seconds later.

For the next few minutes, they splash around like children at the neighborhood pool.

The cold of the night and the lake rattle their bones but neither of them seems to care as a familiar warmth wraps itself around their hearts.

It’s really fascinating how the little moments can become so meaningful. How one person can mean so much so quickly. How drastically your life can change just because of one single person and their kindness and their love.

“Oh-oh!” (Y/N) exclaims excitedly and lays little enthusiastic slaps on Bucky’s shoulder “let’s do the dirty dancing lift. You can lift me, right?”

“I have a vibranium arm…”

“Right. Yeah. Right.”

Bucky places his hands on her waist and pulls her a little closer, trying to ignore the incessant thumping of his heart that feels like it wants to break out of his chest. “Okay on 3.”

“One”

Her eyes look deep into his as if trying to search for something in them. Secrets. Hidden feelings. The truth.

“Two”

And when she smiles, almost shy, it seems for a second that she’s found whatever she’s been looking for. He hopes she likes the secret she uncovers. He hopes it doesn’t scare her off from loving him.

“Three”

In a swift motion, he lifts her up above his head, holding her strong and steady as drops of water, cold as ice, rain down on him while (Y/N) laughs and stretches out her arms.

“We did it! I’m flying, Jack!”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She retorts and lets out another laugh. Yeah, maybe he’s freezing his ass off but to hear her laugh like that, makes it all worth it.

He doesn’t let her fall over like they do in the movie, instead, he grips her waist tighter, slowly and gently lowers her back into the water. And when she’s back right in front of him, chest against his, he should be letting go of her, but he doesn’t.

While his head keeps screaming at him to just let go, his heart tells him otherwise, makes him stay right there.

(Y/N)’s arms move across his chest and gently wrap themselves around his neck before her fingers start to delicately play with his hair.

He wonders if any person has ever felt the way he does in that moment. He wonders if maybe a poet or a writer or a musician has and if maybe they wrote a poem or a book or a song about it. Maybe that would help him understand. Maybe he could read it or listen to it and keep this moment captured in that piece of art forever. Because he fears that no memory can ever do justice to the way he feels when she moves closer.

When her hand cups his face when her nose nuzzles against his so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll pull away any second.

It’s just them and their wildly beating hearts and the woods providing them shelter and the water setting the scene and the stars shining down upon them.

It’s just them — until it isn’t.

“(Y/N), Bucky? You guys out there?�� Robin's voice calls out into the night as her silhouette appears against the light coming from the porch of the Inn.

“Yes, it’s us. We’ll be right in.” (Y/N) calls back, having moved away slightly. The spell is broken and Bucky lifts his hand off of her, immediately missing the contact.

“It’s freezing, we should probably go inside.” She says and grants him a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach her eyes and he can faintly see her shivering.

“Yeah let’s go. Get you warmed up.”

They don’t talk about their moment as they head inside and get swallowed by the group of people all hyped up with excitement for the coming day.

Bucky is sure though that as long as there are stars in the sky, he will not forget this moment however fleeting and insignificant it might seem.

TAGLIST FORM (fill this out to be added)

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez - @je-like-you - @dracoxxyoflam - @jackiehollanderr - @majo240820 - @kay-gilles - @booksb4looksstuff - @jckie94 - @charmed-asylum - @shawnie--jo - @yllwtaxi - @tailsoflightning - @giuliarogers - @mangoogirl - @gerim-1995 - @elen-alambil - @threeminutesoflife - @writeroutoftime - @buckybarn3s - @rosaline-black - @kenziekugler22 - @vghz82 - @frnkensteingrl - @lovefreylove - @cherryofdeath - @bluemoon-icecream - @mariusprincess-blog -

[rhenuvee]

Mission Impossible (George Weasley x Beauxbatons reader)

A/N + Summary: YEAH you’ve seen Fred Weasley x Beauxbatons reader but now I give you GEORGE WEASLEY X BEAUXBATONS READER (wow so cool). 

Key: (y/n) - your name, also I just gave your friends names because it would be a hassle to do (y/f/n/1) and so on.

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

-----------------------------------

The moment you, your friends and headmistress waltzed into the great hall with your elegant movements, it didn’t take long for people to turn heads in admiration- especially for George Weasley. 

Was it merely a coincidence that when you looked his way, he was looking right back at you? For a second you almost forgot that you were part of everyone’s center of attention, and that you weren’t the only one in the room. 

He threw a wink your way when your group stopped to flourish butterflies to the crowd. You giggled- God, that certainly wasn’t in your choreography, you didn’t even know if it was directed to you! You hoped that nobody saw that. 

Once everyone was settled down, one of your friends Camille tapped you on the shoulder almost urgently. 

“Who were you looking at?” she whispered, but still loud enough for your two other friends Renee and Jacqueline to hear. “You were looking at someone, (y/n)?” asked Jacqueline. Well, she said that out loud. Most of the Beauxbatons were staring at you waiting for an answer. 

“Camille, I wasn’t looking at anyone.” you lied. Camille obviously didn’t believe you, and lifted herself slightly off the bench table to look around. There were too many people that could’ve been the one. Camille furrowed her eyebrows. “Whoever it was, they were on that side of the hall.” she said with her arms crossed. 

“Maybe it was a boy...” said Jacqueline with a smirk. Jeez, if anything, she was always the person to suspect the reason to everything was someone you liked. Suddenly your mind reverted back to your few seconds of memory of the red headed boy. He was handsome, no doubt, and that wink could’ve made you blush more than the Beauxbatons entrance.

“She’s blushing! It is a boy!” exclaimed Jacqueline. You immediately cringed and wished that you didn’t know them anymore. “Don’t worry (y/n), we’ll find this boy sooner than you!” said Camille cheerfully while high-fiving Jacqueline. You facepalmed, as if your first- not even hour at Hogwarts had an interesting start. 

“All of you are clowns-” you muttered. “well not Renee I guess.” 

“No, I’m totally in on this too.” she said quickly.

“Oh... never mind then. Guess I’ll just be miserable then, with three clowns...” you said a fake sadness which made you and your three friends laugh. 

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, a similar conversation was happening. 

“Georgie, helloooo?” said Fred waving a hand in front of his face. He was too distracted by the pretty smile that left your lips as you laughed. Fred groaned dramatically.

“Hi! I’m a pretty Beauxbatons girl who the less attractive Weasley twin seems to be distracted by!” said Fred in a mock girly tone. 

“Huh?” said George out of his daydream. 

“Well that got his attention.” said Harry as he and Ron snickered. 

 “What are you on about, Fred?” asked George. “I’m saying you’ve been staring at where those Beauxbatons girls are sitting, Georgie. One of them caught your eye?” he asked slyly, but with a knowing smile. 

“No-” 

“Well then why you looking there? You like the colour blue?” asked Fred laughing into his question. The people listening into the conversation around them went into a fit of laughter. But jokes aside, if anyone knew George it obviously had to be his twin. He saw how his cheeks were tinted a slight pink, and the daydream? It was a dead giveaway to him. The question only remained as to which girl it was- there were lots of you. Fred was more than welcome to play detective.

-----------------------------------

The next night, you went to accompany Fleur to put her name in the goblet. You decided to stay for a while to watch and clap for the other people who were planning to enter. It was very brave of them to take on the tournament after all.

“YESSSSSSSSS!!” you heard two voices call out while running to high five other students. It was him. You immediately perked up and felt your body tense up. You giggled to yourself as they explained to a girl why their plan would work. A bit silly, he was, but it attracted you nonetheless. 

Then it happened again, the boy turned his head for a brief moment from the crowd and landed on you. This time you had a closer view of him. You could see his ginger hair with the fire of the goblet reflecting it, his cute freckles, and his eyes which you could tell held a lot of mischief in them.

His mouth was slightly parted at the sight of you, but quickly split into a grin, knowing you were watching him. You couldn’t help but to smile back- in fact a little too widely to your liking, so you put a hand to cover your mouth.

“(Y/N)!” yelled a voice too familiar. Camille, Jacqueline and Renee sauntered in, earning a sigh of frustration to you. Here we go again...

“Hm- why are you so smiley?” asked Camille. Then the three of them gasped in sync. “T-the boy! Is he here?!” they all said looking around frantically. “No I did not see ‘t-the boy’.” you said mocking them dramatically. 

Your argument was interrupted by the shouts of the two redheads earlier, who honestly don’t have red hair anymore, and sat up to reveal that they were growing beards. The circle of people around them started laughing as they fought. You and your friends giggled at the sight, but you couldn’t help to feel a little concerned for the boy. 

-----------------------------------

You were thankful that your friends didn’t pester you right then and there, but that didn’t mean they weren’t on your case anymore. 

It was getting late, and you should’ve been with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, but you snuck around asking people where the hospital wing was. You don’t know why you decided to listen to your heart that was telling you to go see the boy after the aging potion fiasco. 

You took a peek inside and saw them already finished getting their beards shaved, and hair back to normal. You decided to wait outside for him until he came out. People started to give you weird looks since your blue uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.

Your heart started racing as you saw him come into your view. You tapped his arm lightly to get his attention. He turned around, and you could swear he had a light blush on his cheeks.

“Hi...” you said shyly.

“Hi.” he said back, chuckling at your short choice of greeting.

“I remember you,” he said, amused at the way you timidly tried to hide your smile. “I see you were worried about me.”

“I see you shaved your beard.” you shot back. He laughed at your reply while sheepishly rubbing his neck.

“Oi! George, we got- oh hello there.” said Fred with a smirk on his face. You smiled shyly. “So you’re the girl Georgie’s been staring at.” Fred’s shin was quickly met with George’s foot kicking it.

“Don’t snog for too long.” said Fred while waving and turning on his heel to leave. George was about to say something when your voice made him decide to deal with it later.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n), nice to meet you.” you said sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” he said taking your hand and bringing it to his lips to press a light kiss to it. You blushed- you were expecting a handshake. He seemed to be quite a charmer.

“Hey! Don’t try to make me throw up in the middle of the hall!” called out Fred. You hid in embarrassment.

“Fred, mate, I thought you were heading to the great hall.” said George. “You should be heading there too you know?” Fred shot back. George turned back to look at you and smiled.

“We’ll see you later then, darling.” he said running off. “See you...” you replied softly.

-----------------------------------

You felt this emptiness when George left even for a brief moment. But at the same time it was better since your friends wouldn’t expect anything compared to if you walked in together.

You sat down at the table with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, waiting for everyone else to be settled down. You looked for George at his table and he caught back your gaze with silly faces. You giggled to yourself. Fred also peaked his head in your view and waved.

“Okay now you definitely are hiding something, is it the kid with the glasses?” Jacqueline asked, surprising you in the process. “What?”

“We know where you’re looking, it’s someone at that table. Is it the boy with the untucked uniform?” added Camille. “Jeez you guys can’t even bother to mind your own business, and why do you always think I’m with a boy?” you asked a little too defensively. “Why can’t you be like Renee, she’s not poking her nose into everything.”

“To be honest I want to know too.” she said.

“Oh... well anyway- don’t you guys have anything better to do?” you asked.

“Not really, but you’re getting off topic- is it the ginger haired guy?” asked Camille. “There are a lot of ginger haired guys.” you said.

“Hmmm... very suspicious, she has the knowledge that there are a lot of ginger haired guys.” said Jacqueline stroking an imaginary beard.

“You guys are just delusional.” you said jokingly to them.

-----------------------------------

Throughout your experience at Hogwarts, it was very interesting, and sure enough you were kept on your toes trying to see George without any of your friends suspecting anything. If they knew the two of you snogged a few times in a broom closet, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Luckily Fred promised to keep it a secret.

You and George had a type of chemistry between you and him, and you could feel it from day one. It was only a matter of time before the both of you expressed your passion.

“Georgie, your lips are puffy...” you said slightly out of breath while still in George’s embrace.

“And? So are yours.” he said with a smirk, and brushing a hair out of place on your eyes. You slapped him playfully on the arm.

“That’s not what I meant. Won’t your friends and siblings suspect something?” you asked.

“Mm, I guess you’re right sweetheart. In fact my sister’s on my case now.” he said.

“Ginny was it?” he nodded to your response. “What excuse are you going to use this time?” you asked crossing your arms.

“I bumped into a tree?” he said cheekily. You laughed with your hands clutched at your stomach- he swears he could die happy from that. “What type of tree is that?” you asked calming down.

“One that looks like this.” he said booping your nose. “But more importantly, what about your friends, aren’t they ruthless?” he asked.

“Ugh yes. Keeping away from them is like Mission Impossible...” you said in an annoyed tone. “A mission what now?” he asked. You shook your head, and went back to put your arms on his chest.

“It’s nothing.” you said sweetly.

“Tell me, I wanna know.” he said bringing you closer.

“Fine, maybe later. But kiss me first.”

“Gladly.”

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Skin Pressed Against Me Tight 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~12K Notes: This is my porn star au fill for @starkerfestivals bingo. Idk how porn turned into Starker being parents, but it did - hope you enjoy! Warnings: NSFW stuff for sure, bottom Tony, non-linear narrative  Summary: 

Peter Parker is a young 18 y/o breaking into the porn industry. Things change for him when he shoots a scene with Tony Stark, illustrious size queen. This is the story of their relationship told in both perspectives.

Or, the one where Peter Parker has a huge cock and rocks Tony Starks world - romance absolutely ensues.

Read it on AO3 here

2019

Getting into porn at the ripe age of 18 was never Peter’s intention. May worked her ass off to try and put him through college, but a neonatal nurse didn’t make that much money. The last thing Peter wanted was for her to always be working – so he took funding into his own hands.

It started out as cater-waiter jobs – he pulled off a suit well enough to stand around and look nice while holding a tray of champagne, or if they were feeling frisky, appetizers. The money wasn’t the best, but it was something. After four months of doing that specifically, he picked up a job at a director’s home – the type of director he didn’t know until he walked in to see all the waiters in only small underwear and bowties. Not ashamed of what he worked so hard to get, Peter took to the uniform like it was meant for him – and maybe it was, his huge cock was highlighted all night.

When all was said and done, his favorite appendage and willingness to do pretty much whatever was asked of him made Peter one of the best porn actors to work with. He started out small – masturbation and cam services for a select few clients. The demand for that became too much to keep up with, so Clint, the director who drew him into the business to begin with, started to pair him up with people. Beautiful men, specifically. Peter hadn’t known about his sexuality until he felt a warm ass wrap around his cock – something told him that he’d found the key to his sexual heart.

When users started to comment on the size of his cock, Peter started to shoot with specific men within the industry – ones so gloriously known as size queens. In the back of his mind, Peter hoped for the chance to partner with Tony Stark; he’d been watching Man of Iron videos for most of his adolescence. Tony Stark could take a dick – and not for the first time, Peter wondered what it would be like for him to take his.

Surprisingly, it only took Peter mentioning the man’s name to make it happen. He hadn’t thought too much about his popularity, but when he told Ned about it later that night, his friend freaked out. “You’re one of the big studs now, Pete. Only well-known names get to work with Tony Stark.” Peter heard the dreaminess in his friend’s voice and laughed – in less than a week, he’d know exactly what it was like to work with the boisterous power bottom.

Walking onto the set the day of the shoot, Peter couldn’t keep his excitement from overflowing – he jerked off twice that morning to make sure his performance was top notch. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early. Despite being young and able to go forever, he wanted to cast an air of maturity. The silver fox he was going to top was one of the best in the business – that meant he’d been around for a while. If anyone knew good sex, it was Tony Stark.

The smile swept off his face for a second when he walked into the room of the suite they’d deemed the dressing room. Tony was standing there in small shorts and a black tank top – his arms were rippling, the sight making Peter’s mouth water. He almost missed the words coming out of Tony’s mouth – “He’s so young, Pep. This can’t possibly be a good idea.”

It should have stung a little, the words and the fact that Tony looked up with a gasp when he realized someone else was in the room. Coloring, Peter nodded in his direction and retreated quickly – he didn’t want Tony to see the smile on his face. There was a mission now – Peter felt bound and determined to prove the older star wrong. The tingle of arousal that kissed his skin was a little different than before and he reveled in it – pleasing Tony would be the best experience of both of their careers; he’d make sure of it.

Tony found him a few minutes before they were set to start the cheesy lead up to the frame by frame fucking that would inevitably happen. Peter reached down to adjust himself, his overeager cock getting hyped up at just the sound of Tony’s voice. Turning his head away for a second, Peter took a deep breath, his features schooled when he looked back.

“Peter, right?” Tony asked, his hand settling between them. Peter looked at him for what felt like a solid minute, his eyes roaming over Tony until he felt satisfied.

Reaching between them, Peter shook his hand. “Yeah, Peter Parker. While we’re shooting, Pete is fine.” He kept Tony’s hand in his own for a few seconds longer than socially appropriate, his fingers squeezing lightly.

As if the touch opened the floodgates, Tony smiled at him, his head shaking. “You fucking rookies and your requests. We’ll see what comes out in the moment. Kid for you, probably,” Peter didn’t miss the wink sent his way, his cock reacting to the word before his brain could process it.

“Sure, and I’ll be sure to moan daddy real loud,” Peter rebutted almost instantly. He shouldn’t feel as warm as he did – no one else he’d ever paired with made him crazy the way he felt in that moment. The sizzle in his veins seared a little more the longer they stayed next to each other. Tony moved a little closer, his natural musk adding to the intoxication.

“There’s an entire fan base out there that would go wild for something like that, Pete,” Tony said in response, his hands moving to grip Peter’s elbow. Shit like that was common practice – they would be butt naked in front of each other in a few minutes, it was nice when his scene partners at least tried to ease the tension a little. The fact that it was Tony fucking Stark made it 100 times better – his hands were soft and squeezed him so nicely.

Peter’s head was swimming by the time Clint was calling them all to the center of the room for his pre-shoot pep talk. It consisted of the word ‘fuck’ and little else, so Peter let his mind wander, the only grounding agent the now familiar hand still tucked into his arm, Tony’s fingers slip-sliding across his skin like he’d been doing it his entire existence.

The lead up to their scene consisted of Tony walking in on a naked Peter who was just starting to get himself worked up on the very big, very empty bed. He didn’t need to pretend to be extremely turned on by the older man that wanted to join him on the bed – his eyes stayed glued to Tony as he settled against the headboard next to him. He didn’t move to take his clothes off, but Peter could see his impressive erection pressing against the small, too-tight shorts they were making him wear.

Without any prodding, Peter continued to fist his own cock in one hand while the other moved to Tony’s lap, his fingers skating over the bulge he couldn’t wait to see. He kept the rhythm slow, his focus more on the delicate tongue that was tangling with his own – Tony’s lips captured his own when he started to fondle him. The twitch he felt under his hand had him reaching into Tony’s pants to touch the soft flesh of an already rigid erection.

“Fuck,” Peter mumbled, the word captured by a swift move of Tony’s lips. The angle was a little weird, but the smooth velvet under his palm was more than enough to help him forget the crick in his wrist. Peter continued to run his hand up and down Tony’s length, gathering up the precum at the tip to ease the slide until a hand was reaching down to stop him. Tony gave him a heated look and pulled away just enough to get his tank top off.

He felt insanely greedy when he pulled his hand away from his own cock and ran his fingers over Tony’s newly exposed flesh. For someone that was no longer considered ‘young’ in the industry, Tony’s stomach was taut and well-muscled – the fact that he worked to keep his physique very obvious. He embraced the daddy thing and had thick patches of chest hair, the look a direct contrast to Peter’s practically hairless torso.

All of the sudden, Tony was turning – Peter moved his hands to let him sit across his naked thighs, the fabric of the annoying little shorts soft enough to make the move pleasurable. Tony settled close enough to put his elbows over Peter’s shoulders and palm the back of his head. Their faces were already right near each other, the slight shift bringing them so close that Peter felt Tony’s breath trickle down his throat.

Palming firm ass cheeks, Peter gave Tony’s muscle a light tap – the slightest wiggle making him moan, his hips pressing up. Tony ground down against him, warm chocolate colored eyes staring into his own. Not able to stand the tease any longer, Peter surged forward and took Tony’s lips in a kiss. The fingers in his hair tightened, Tony using that leverage to pull Peter closer, the angle of their heads perfect for the passionate kiss.

Peter worked the shorts down Tony’s thighs as much as he could with his legs stretched out the way they were – his fingers were desperate to press into bare skin. Huffing, Peter grabbed the back of Tony’s thighs and flipped their positions, impatient hands pulling shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. A groan left his mouth when he saw the expanse of Tony’s flesh in person. The pixilation of a computer screen would never do it justice.

Fingertips danced down his legs and across stiff arches, his thumb digging in ever so slightly. Tony drew his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to keep the noises in, but Peter wasn’t having that. He reached up and tugged that lip from Tony’s grasp. “I want to hear you,” Peter stated, his voice deeper than he’d ever heard it.

Tony’s eyes flashed, a moan slipping from his lips in answer. Peter grinned and continued his exploration, his hands running back up Tony’s legs, across his hips, up the trail of hair on his lower stomach, and between his pecs. He pulled at his right nipple first, his fingers moving until it was a tight bud before moving onto the left one. His fixation brought moans out of them both, Tony’s cock jumping against Peter’s abs – a small streak of arousal brandishing the skin there.

Peter took Tony’s lips in another hot kiss, his hips settling between the v of Tony’s thighs, their cocks lining up. He let his hips roll forward. After a few minutes of chasing Tony’s tongue, Peter was leaking precum and slowly losing control over himself. Pulling away with a nip to Tony’s lip, Peter settled his head in the crease of Tony’s neck. Peter pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, the position perfect to whisper to him. “Straddle my face. I want to eat you out while you blow me. Put those pretty lips to use.” He pulled away with a laugh, Tony’s hand hitting his shoulder.

The transition wasn’t fumbly like Peter’s prior experiences. Peter rolled off of Tony and settled in the big pile of pillows at the head of the bed. He put a couple under his head so that he’d have a better ability to reach his destination – then, Tony settled over him, his ass in Peter’s face. Using both hands, he pulled Tony’s cheeks apart and went to work on teasing the already loosened hole. The thought of Tony slipping his fingers into himself in the ‘dressing room’ earlier making his cock twitch.

That must have spurred Tony on, the next thing he knew, plump lips and a warm tongue were caressing the tip of his cock. It broke up the rhythm of his tongue, a loud groan slipping from his chest. “Your dick is huge,” Tony murmured – for once, words that would probably be kept in the footage at the end. Thrusting up, Peter answered with his hips, Tony’s lips slipping further down his length as he did.

He tried his best to get lost in the salty taste on his tongue – Tony’s fluttering hole around him was rather nice. Tony’s lips, however, knew exactly what to do to pull him right to the edge. Peter felt like he could’ve leapt off the cliff of orgasm a few times, but Tony always pulled back at the last minute. Peter retaliated with a particularly deep thrusts of his tongue into Tony’s hole and the entire loop started over again.

Finally unable to take it any longer, Peter pulled away from his task, his chin and cheeks covered in his own spit – he could already picture the camera panning in on his face. Peter huffed out a breath and moved his hips away from the delicious suction. “You’ve gotta stop or I’m going to cum,” Peter admitted, two fingers pressing into Tony’s hole in hopes of a distraction for them both.

Sooner than Peter expected, Tony was on all fours in front of him, his hand reaching back to grasp onto his thigh. He seemed to be egging Peter on, the slightest bit of desperation he portrayed enough for him to quickly lube up his cock and line up against Tony’s entrance. The barely heard “fuck me, Pete” had him pushing in and breaching the tightest heat. Peter bit down into the side of his cheek to stop himself from coming.

Gripping Tony’s hips, Peter set a teasing pace, his hips pulling back slowly only to push forward hard, his fingers digging into supple skin. Tony pushed back against him, his hand still gripping Peter’s thigh tightly. The wild abandon that Tony took his cock with was too much – he wanted to wrap his arms around his middle and fuck him with abandon into the mattress. The more time past, however, the more Peter understood that Tony deserved to be thoroughly taken apart.

When he eventually picked up his pace, Peter leaned forward and started to work his lips and tongue over the back of Tony’s neck – the task just enough to keep him from finishing before he should. His hands gripped around the solid trunk below him, Peter using the momentum to bring Tony back against him harder with each thrust. The imperceptible heat building up in the middle of his stomach made him groan, his control almost completely gone.

Tony was right there with him, though – he reached behind him and grabbed Peter’s head, pulling him down. “I’m close, pull out and flip me over. I want you to cum on my chest,” Tony chocked out the words, Peter’s hips still moving. Quick to comply, Peter eased himself out and worked to turn Tony over – he barely thrust back inside before Tony was coming. Peter watched every splash of cum hit the older man’s chest before pulling out, tugging his cock once, and adding to the mess.

Unlike all of his other scenes before, Peter wanted to lean forward and press his lips against Tony’s again – arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close made it seem like he might like that, too. Peter let his lips get carried away, a loud throat clearing the only thing pulling him back from the delightful task of kissing the life out of the man below him. “Alright, alright,” Clint said after Peter didn’t stop – the annoyance in his voice apparent.

After all was said and done, Peter was surprised by Tony approaching him. He was fully dressed and just about to leave for the day when he felt a hand on his elbow. “I know you walked in on me bitching about you to my manager,” Tony started, both of his hands sliding into his back pockets, the stance making his chest poke out a little. “I’m an asshole, I’ll admit that. You, uh – we’re much better than I expected.”

Peter watched him drag his bottom lip between his teeth and ached to reach across the space and use his thumb to soothe the redness that welled there. He shifted his position instead, his hands hanging loosely on the top of his thighs. “It’s okay – really. It served as good motivation.” Peter shot him a wink; his lips pulled into an eager smirk. Would it be pathetic to ask for his porn idol’s number?

That question was answered almost right after he thought it, Tony pressed a business card to his chest, his fingers staying there for an extra moment. “I’ll have Pep set up another scene. In the meantime – my personal is on there. If you’re interested in a repeat performance not in front of the cameras.”

Blinking, Peter gripped the card and nodded – there was no way in hell he was going to pass up and offer like that. He made sure to slip it into his pocket before shouldering his bag and walking out.

That went a lot better than he ever could have expected.

----

2025

The best part of his life with Peter was the never-ending adventure. At the age of 24, his husband was quickly excelling through the college program at MIT they were easily able to afford. Going to the fiscal services office each semester and paying with a thick stack of cash always felt more satisfactory than it probably should. The beaming smile on Peter’s face drove home the greatness of it – being able to provide something like that for his husband made all the work he’d done in his life worth it.

Things were slowly starting to change for them – though they still did scenes together, Tony and Peter both were trying to step away from the industry. Tony knew the daddy thing was only cute for a little while – his age was starting to become a thing that he couldn’t just look past. If it weren’t for the draw that he and Peter pulled as a tag team, he probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as he did. Settling down took some of the fun out of the job, anyway – not so suddenly, he didn’t want to share his body with just anyone.

Luckily, Tony spent enough time at Arizona State to get a degree before he delved into the world of porn. There weren’t too many people that recognized him, or were willing to admit it, at least – so stepping into the job world wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought it might be. What he always imagined being his fallback became something he could actually be proud of. Financial advising wasn’t the glitz and glam of full-time porn star – but it paid the pills and kept him out of the arms of too many random people.

It was Peter who made the suggestion to step away, first – which surprised the heck out of him. Despite getting married at such a young age, Peter was right at the peak of his career – if he wanted it, he could’ve taken the top billings for years to come. The man was absolutely gorgeous and would combat age with a grace that not a lot of people got to claim. And no matter how much he didn’t want Peter to be constantly fucking other men, it was part of the game – he loved the man enough to support him through it all.

Learning that Peter was just as weird about fucking other people made his heart warm – in all the time they’d been together, his husband never stopped surprising him. Of course, they were both so balls deep in the business that it took a while to slim down their scheduling and almost exclusively work with each other. Pepper wasn’t very happy about anything he did with Peter over the years, but she was surprisingly supportive when Tony spoke to her about their plan. He figured that after six years, maybe she was finally warming up to Tony’s other half.

In the two years of their marriage, Tony found himself finally understanding what Rhodey was always talking about when he spoke of his love for Natasha and the relationship they spent many years creating. Learning and living with another human being wasn’t something Tony every thought he’d be into. He looked at his friends and shook his head.

Then – he met Peter. Life was a lot more fun because of the younger man’s influence. While still a dramatic size queen, Tony let himself open up and start enjoying the little things in life – things like the same man’s arm slung across his stomach in the mornings and the enjoyable bickering about who was going to do the dishes. He spent a lot of time worrying about money and how people looked at him – Peter took that need away and kept reality within his grasp.

And while Tony got to fulfill the daddy fantasy with his husband whenever the man had the inkling, he was grateful that’s where the boat would soon be stopping. In all honesty, Tony yearned to be an actual dad – he’d been getting more and more jealous of the small children that ran around Rhodey and Natasha’s place. Peter was so good with kids and would make the ultimate father – Tony was sure of it.

Those were dangerous thoughts, however – he hadn’t brought up the topic with Peter; he didn’t know how.

Tony pushed them away and focused on the sauce he was stirring on the stove. Before she passed, his mom taught him all the family recipes. Over the years, Tony perfected a few of them and always fell back on Maria’s sauce when he needed something to clear his mind. It took a long time to make and needed almost regimented attention.

It was soothing, in a way – to let his mind get lost in the swirl of the increasingly thickening tomato paste on the stove. Tony felt more capable of tabling things that were unnecessary and focusing on the ones that were. Such as the front door opening and Peter walking through it.

Perking up a little, Tony grinned at his husband when he walked into the kitchen. He saw the look of hunger pass over Peter’s face, Tony aware that the sauce was only half the reason for it. In 6 years of being together and having frequent sex, Tony and Peter never got tired of each other. He felt wanted every second of being in Peter’s presence – they’d perfected physical connection so much that it seemed to make the craving more intense.

Peter wrapped his hands around Tony’s hips, his face settling into the side of his neck. Tony always liked the way he would drag in a deep breath and hold it – the huff of it warm air on his neck when Peter finally let it go making him shiver every time. He liked the idea of sitting deep within Peter’s chest, caught in the capillary beds, and transported through the systemic circulation until he was breathed back out into the open air.

Flat palms caressed his thighs, Peter using them to pull him back until they were flush against each other. “Hey, sweetheart,” Peter mumbled, his lips on Tony’s ear. In the early days, Peter took to whispering to him like that to keep the words he couldn’t hold at bay as between them as he could. It kind of became a thing after that – Tony liked the tingle it always sent down his spine, the intimacy of it a beautiful perk of being with someone so affectionate.

“Hey, yourself. How were classes?” Tony hummed and tilted his head; the nuzzling Peter was doing needed to continue.

He felt Peter take the space given to him, his wandering nose and lips mapping out a well-known path across his neck. “Good – I think I finally found a lab worth interning in. My biophysics professor is starting some new research up at the end of the semester that I would love to dive headfirst into.” Peter spoke with such clarity despite the teasing way he treated Tony’s sensitive skin.

Sighing, Tony leaned forward and turned the heat down – the sauce was at a point where he could let it sit for a while. He gave it one last stir, then turned in Peter’s arms, his own wrapping around wide shoulders. “Happy to hear it – I know you’ve been stressing over that for the past couple of months. Did you get your differential equations exam back?” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s nose – the gesture pulling the softest smile from his husband’s lips.

“I did – I got a 98. The points I lost were a little petty, but I’m not upset about an A. I appreciate all the help, by the way; I don’t think I ever thanked you properly,” Peter wiggled his eyebrows and drew him into a deep kiss, the caress of his tongue almost enough to sweep Tony’s feet out from under him. Damn Peter and his endless charm.

He let himself get lost in the drag of the facial hair Peter was starting to grow – it tickled his lips and he wondered if that’s how it was for Peter this whole time. It was sexy and if Tony got his way, Peter would be keeping the nicely developing beard.

The need for oxygen forced them apart. Not wanting to separate too much, Tony traced the flush that spread across Peter’s cheek with the edge of his thumb. His nose rubbed along Peter’s before he snuck in for another soft kiss. He felt a rush of happiness when Peter’s hands moved to grip him tighter. “I’m sure you’ll find many ways to thank me over the course of the semester, Pete. That class is only going to get harder.”

Hands slapping his ass pulled a solid laugh out of him – Tony jumped from the contact, his fingers gripping Peter’s cheeks for support. “You’re a little shit.” He slipped his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. A satisfying feeling rushed over him then; Peter’s eyes followed his every movement. “Proud of you, though. Want to celebrate with Mama’s pasta?”  

Peter’s eyes widened, a huge smile overtaking his face. “You’re making Maria’s sauce? I’m 100% game for that. I hope you made that baked chicken, too,” Peter replied eagerly. Tony moved out of his grip and pulled a hot pad onto his hand. The smell of lemon and parmesan flooded the kitchen, both of them making a satisfied little noise. “Smells amazing, Tones.”

Tony nodded his agreement, a content smile on his face. “It does – go get changed and I’ll pull everything out so we can eat.” He gave Peter a soft pat on his cheek, his husband rolling his eyes and grinning in return.

“Do I have time to shower, too? Or should I wait for you?” Peter stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, his arms wide and holding him there. Tony let himself look him over, Peter’s biceps were pulled deliciously tight by the posture he stood with. It really was too much sometimes, being married to such a good looking human.

Settling against the stove once more, Tony picked up the wooden spoon, his brain forcing him to look anywhere but in front of him – if he did, they’d never eat the food he spent a good bit of time making. “Waiting sounds nice. I’ll clean you up after we eat. You’re messy as hell, anyway.” Tony threw a wink over his shoulder and laughed when Peter made a disbelieving noise before turning and starting his trek up the stairs.

In obvious retaliation, Peter walked down the stairs in plain black shorts and a tight tank top, the roundness of his deltoids sinful and mouth-watering. He walked past Tony to the cabinet housing the plates, not even bothering to look at him, and went about setting the table. Shaking his head, Tony couldn’t stop the affectionate laugh that dripped from his lips. Even after all this time, Peter’s puppy act still made his heart race.

It was easy to get dinner on the table after that – Tony carried all the food in with an eager Peter trailing behind him with glasses of water. His husband never got to meet the illustrious Maria, but he understood her talents in the kitchen and went a little nuts whenever Tony brought her food to the table.

Peter was also smart enough to know that Tony only ever cooked comfort foods because something was up – though, he waited until they were into dinner a bit before bringing anything up. Tony knew it was coming when Peter complimented the chicken for the 20th time. Putting his fork down, Tony looked at him pointedly.

Without missing a beat, Peter did the same, his attention now fully on Tony instead of the food before him. “So – what’s up? We avoid your lineage like it doesn’t exist most of the time – you don’t cook this specific thing unless you’ve got something on your mind.” Peter reached across the table and grasped one of Tony’s hands in his. “Everything okay?”

Softening, Tony gave Peter’s hand a soft squeeze. “It’s fucking eerie, how well you know me,” Tony started, his other hand joining the masses on the table. “I’ve just been thinking about our last scene coming up and what comes next. Got a little lost up there.” He shrugged his shoulders, Tony hoping that his anxiety was not overtly apparent.

“I’ve been reading you since the first day we met, Tones – hard to miss all the obvious tells.” His eyes moved over the food on the table, a light smile on his face. “Delicious tells, though – I hope you know that.”

Tony barked out a laugh, his feet pulling his chair a little closer to Peter’s so he could reach over and grab his husband’s face in his hands. “I know, baby. Thank you.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, then settled into his chair again.

Peter looked at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before he caught back up to where they were. He narrowed them then, “you’re trying to distract me.” Picking up his fork, Peter went about poking at the pasta – “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that whatever we want comes next. I’ll be done with school at the end of the year, you’re in a job you like – it seems like the only place to go is up.”

Tilting his head, Tony let the words sink in – Peter stating it so simply made all the worrying he’d been doing seem a little silly. “There’s something specifically I want to bring up – but I’m a lot terrified. I – “ he shifted on his seat a little, the move just long enough to give him a second to muster up the courage to actually get the words out. “I think I want to have kids, Pete. I want to be a dad and I want to watch you be one, too. I know you’re young and we’ve never talked about it, but – its been stuck in my head on a loop for longer than I care to admit.”

He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths once the words were out, his eyes not meeting Peter’s until he felt like he wasn’t going to hyperventilate. The happy look he was met with was not what he’d been expecting – Peter’s beaming smile made his eyebrows furrow, an excited smile waiting on standby.

“Tones – you should have said something. Ever since Nat brought baby Sue home, I’ve been dying to know what it’d be like.” He didn’t say anything further, just got up from his chair and reached a hand out, Tony taking it to join him. They tangled up in a tight hug, Tony pulling Peter as flush against him as he could.

Later that night, they collapsed sweaty to the mattress, Tony spooning behind Peter without worrying about the grossness that was covering them both. He pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s neck, a sigh falling from his lips. “You make me so fucking happy.”

Peter tugged his arm to pull him closer, the silent hum of appreciation the only needed reply.

----

2020

After that first scene together, Tony and Peter’s partnership blew up. Just like Tony figured, the daddy aspect of it pulled in a huge crowd that demanded more. Which wasn’t any skin off of his back – Peter genuinely liked Tony as a person and enjoyed the physical connection between them even more.

With the business card in hand, Peter dialed Tony’s personal number a couple of days after they left set. He sat in the same position two nights in a row, contemplating what was too soon and how much excitement would look like desperation. His resolve was quickly melting down to nothing, so he finally let his fingers move over the screen to enter the number. Three rings later, Tony picked up – the timber of his “hello” more than enough to make the anxious energy he was feeling worth it.

“Hey Tony – it’s Peter. Peter Parker.” He wanted to slap himself, words coming out of his mouth had never felt more awkward. It couldn’t be helped, his heart leapt up into his throat whenever he thought about Tony. Of course, it made sense that he’d become a babbling idiot the second he had the guy’s attention.

The chuckle on the other end of the line settled low in his stomach, for the first few seconds, he couldn’t tell if it was arousal or shame. It ended up bringing a smile to his face, though, so he tried to relax – things hadn’t gone to shit yet, he could do this.

“Peter Parker – I was starting to wonder if I was going to hear from you.” Tony’s voice sounded genuine across the line and helped to further relax him. There was something about the older man that made Peter feel comfortable – he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he knew he wasn’t about to let it go wandering out of his life if he could help it.

“I didn’t want to seem too eager. Even though I am.” He heard Tony laugh again, the sound kicking up his heart rate a couple of notches. “Is your offer still on the table? Meeting up off-screen, I mean,” Peter said, his voice cracking as he backtracked quickly, his cock already twenty steps ahead of him. He wanted to see Tony outside of the bedroom, too – more than anything, Peter wanted to make that clear.

Tony didn’t miss a beat – “For you, Peter Parker, I think that offer will always be on the table.” Tony spoke matter-of-factly, the tenor of his voice never waving.

“Really?” Peter found himself saying, a sharp blush rushing across his cheeks when he realized what he actually said. “This trying to be smooth thing is not working.” He stopped and let a laugh fall from his lips – if he didn’t find humor in it, he might die of embarrassment.

“I want to take you out to dinner. Then see if anything happens.” Peter reached up and smacked his hand across his forehead, each new sentence slipping from his mouth lamer than the last.

Regardless of how Peter felt, the babbling ended up being the thing to seal the deal. It wasn’t hard to believe that Tony didn’t usually date other people in the business – mixing love and scripted sex was usually more work and heartache than most people could deal with; but Peter felt pretty determined. He’d been around the business long enough to know that the connection he felt with Tony was unlike any other – Peter was too smart of a person to pass something like that up.

As the number of jobs they booked together started to go up, so did their interest in each other. It wasn’t strictly Peter, either – Tony was a lot more open and available than Peter initially thought he’d be. Their first date turned into incredible sex on Tony’s living room floor and the promise of another date the next day. Seeing each other every couple of nights quickly turned into staying over at the other person’s house and slowly slipping into the joys of domesticity.

The most surprising aspect of their relationship was the way Tony handled Peter doing scenes with other people. Walking into the relationship with open eyes was something, but actually dealing with it was an entirely different beast. Tony was at the point in his career where he could be choosy – Peter wasn’t. For the first few months of the thing they settled into, Peter needed to take everything thrown his way. Despite putting off college for a little while, Peter still wanted to make the time he worked count.

Coming home after a particularly unsatisfying scene, Peter immediately stepped into the shower. He didn’t see Tony in the direct path to the bathroom and didn’t bother to look any further – Peter still wasn’t all that comfortable smelling like someone else when he pulled Tony into his arms. They hadn’t been together all that long, but it already felt like he was taking something away from them every time he went in front of the cameras.

Peter ducked under the water, his body working on autopilot. The water beat down on the top of his head, the warmth so nice on his skin that felt taut and drawn for the past couple of hours. He was distracted enough to not hear the door open – a grunt fell out of his mouth when arms wrapped around his waist. When his heartrate settled, Peter gripped Tony’s arms, his fingers desperately tight.

“Let me finish up in here, Tones – I thought maybe we could have Chinese.” Peter said the words, but each one of them lost a bit of meaning as Tony’s touch took him apart. In that moment, the last thing he wanted to do was let Tony go anywhere – the guilt of someone else’s hands on him felt washed away, Tony’s touch on him the magic eraser he needed to forget.

“It’ll go a little quicker if I help. I have something a little more fun in mind when we’re done,” Tony mumbled, his lips on the wet skin of Peter’s neck. Methodically, Tony nibbled, licked, and kissed him while his hands moved a loofa with body wash all over his skin. By the time Tony was fisting his erection and pressing his own against Peter’s thigh, the only thing he could smell was the stress relief body wash and Tony’s arousal. Grinning at the dirty trick, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, his nimble fingers quick to turn the shower off.

Between drying off and trying to make out with each other, it took them a long time to get from the bathroom to the bedroom. Despite coming back from two hours’ worth of well-staged sex, Peter’s cock was as hard as a rock. Falling between Tony’s thighs on the bed was the best feeling he’d been privy to all day.

“Thought I could ride you,” Tony managed to get out between all of their kisses and gropes. He grabbed Peter’s face with both hands. “Gotta remind you who you belong to.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows and gripped his arms tightly, effectively rolling them over. Peter settled against the mattress, his eyes bulging a little when Tony’s mouth immediately went to his cock.

Like they’d been doing this for a while (which they had), Tony knew all of the right places to lick and suck. Tony could take him all the way to the root, a feat that even some of the more seasoned people he did scenes with could not achieve. The move had him thrusting up, his hips moving on their own accord. Tony used his free hands to press down on Peter’s hips, effectively cutting off anymore thrusts into the already full throat clenching around him.

Peter let his hands tangle in the length of Tony’s hair, his grip just barely guiding his head up and down. Tony moaned around him, his eyes looking up, catching Peter’s glance. “You were made for this,” Peter babbled, words coming out of his mouth now that he could say whatever the fuck he wanted – cameras be damned. Eventually, he tightened his grip in Tony’s hair, his head tossed back. “Stop, stop. I want to cum inside you.”

One of the best parts of sex on their own time was the way he got to prep Tony – when they shot a scene, little details like making a partner feel good weren’t ever included. Pros like Tony took that sort of thing into their own hands. Yet, Peter appreciated the process – Tony stretched out so nicely around his fingers as he breached him first with one finger, then another. The look in Tony’s eye blew him away every time – it was like he’d never been touched so reverently in his life.

Impatience set in while Peter worked a third finger inside of Tony’s tight heat. He could feel how relax he was, the touch now purely for pleasure. Hitting Tony’s prostate lit him up, his skin breaking out into a sweat, Peter’s name falling from his lips like a mantra. The compiling stimuli were too much, he needed friction and he needed it right that second.

Tony must have felt the same way, his lube-coated hand wrapped around Peter’s cock as he shifted his position. Sitting back, Tony let out a sharp gasp, Peter’s wide head always the toughest stretch. Peter gripped his hips to help as much as he could, his fingers digging into the flesh the closer he got to bottoming out. The second Tony shifted and got up onto his feet, Peter started to thrust, no time for adjustment needed or given.

The bed squeaked with the force of their movements. Peter pushing through the bottoms of his feet to thrust up, Tony rolling his hips and meeting him with a sharp downward stroke. Slap of bodies and echoes of moans were the only thing that could be heard in the room for a while – the animalistic way Peter let himself get lost a little different than their normal coupling.

When Peter flipped them over and hiked Tony’s legs over his shoulder, the older man looked up at him with such devotion. It didn’t matter that he had some random person below him in this same position only a few hours earlier – Tony was the only person he could imagine being there for the rest of his life. Looking down, he appreciated the recognizable body and the amazing personality attached to it.

“I’m gonna cum, Tony,” Peter babbled against his cheek, his upper body falling onto Tony’s chest a few thrust earlier. The fact that he staved off as long as he did was achievement enough. Tony nodding at him and gripping his own erection pushed him over, Peter emptying himself deep within the tight confines of Tony’s tight hole. The splash of cum against his stomach drew a moan from him, the rhythmic clenching that went with Tony’s orgasm bringing another set of body shakes quaking through his muscles. Not able to hold himself up any longer, Peter shifted his weight and dropped half on the mattress and half on the man below him.

“I hope that was the fun you had in mind – because I’m exhausted and don’t think I could lift my arms again,” Peter muttered against Tony’s shoulder. Resting his head there, Peter felt Tony’s laughter spread through him, the clenching of his stomach bouncing him a little. A soft grin slipped across Peter’s cheeks, the niceness of his reality a beautiful thing to be able to cling to.

Tony turned a little, his lips pressing a kiss to the side of Peter’s head. “I thought we could catch up on Penny Dreadful, but we can do that from the comfort of this bed, so no arm movements needed.” Shifting, Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders keeping him pressed tightly against his side. “I wouldn’t mind that Chinese you mentioned, either.”

His words were the last ones spoken for a while – Peter drifted into a light sleep, the high of his body keeping him right in that glorious in between stage. Tony’s chest rose and fell like he too was asleep, the exertion of the amount of passion they shared between them knocking them off their feet every time they came together. The tranquility of it felt like nothing Peter ever experienced before – the thought of being in love alive and prominent in the front of his brain.

A little while later, Tony woke him up with a warm flannel on his skin and an affectionate look. “Thought you might not want to be crusty for the rest of the night. Go back to sleep if you’re still zonked,” Tony said softly, his hands gentle in the way he caressed Peter’s skin. Closing his eyes for another second, Peter soaked up the moment. When Tony tried to pull away, he threw his arms around Tony’s neck and pulled him down, the older man bending in half.

“You take such good care of me,” Peter admitted, his lips finding Tony’s for a chaste kiss. “You’re kind of the best.”

Ducking his head, Tony tried to shake the words off, Peter now familiar with the gesture. He let him pull away, Peter dropping his hands until they were once again on the mattress beside him. His lips quirked into a reassuring look – “I love you, Tony. I really do think you’re the best.”

The sudden impact of Tony’s body against his own tore a breath out of him, his arms automatically welcoming the other into his space. “You’re not supposed to say shit like that. You’re making me too sappy.” Tony moved until he was sitting between Peter’s legs, his smile scrunching up the corners of his eyes. “I love you too, Pete. So much.”

From that point on, Peter was a little more choosey about who he signed on to do scenes with and when he could swing it, he worked exclusively with Tony. Their videos made enough of a splash that not a lot of people even thought twice about the fact that they worked together so often. Of course, there were the weird shippers that caught small moments between them and made them into something that he and Tony both didn’t want them to think was the case. His relationship with Tony was his own – they were both determined to protect that with everything that they could.

----

2026

Starting the process of adoption was a lot more time consuming than either of them thought. There were countless documents that needed to be filled out, letters of recommendation to be written, and never-ending interviews to be had – it seemed like more work to get a baby than to get a government job or a visa to travel to another country. After being told that most of their life would be scrutinized, Tony tucked his tail between his legs and stepped back from the situation.

Everything was done as thoroughly as they could do it – the rest of the process landed on someone else’s shoulders. Of course, it wasn’t the greatest, to be sitting around waiting to hear back from people that were picking apart both their lives with a fine-toothed comb – but they got past it. Tony spent the time working his ass off and preparing for his final scene in the porn industry.

When Clint found out he was leaving the business, he begged until Tony let him direct his final scene – he and Peter both made the man more money during their careers than he’d ever be worth. He decided to do something reminiscent of the first ever scene he shot with the two of them together – down to the stupid outfit he rolled his eyes at. The only real difference was the way he felt about the man standing in the mirror next to him.

The space where apprehension and nervousness sat was now replaced with affection and confidence. Not just in Peter’s sexual prowess, either – he got the distinct pleasure of getting to watch Peter mature and grow. His professional persona was so different than the one he walked into the industry with. It made his heart ache a little, just how much of Peter he’d gotten to experience over the years.

Under the pretense of catching up, Tony saddled up to Peter’s side, an arm wrapping around his waist. “Ready for this?” Tony asked quietly. His body was prepped, and his mind was in the zone, but his heart was sitting in the palm of Peter’s hand. It’d been a while since they worked for the cameras – he wondered if the happiness and excitement that seemed to radiate off them both would be apparent.

“Yup – I’m more than ready. The fact that the rest of the world will no longer have direct access to your ass makes me terribly giddy inside,” Peter replied with a bit of cheek, his body leaning into the contact Tony couldn’t help but provide. “I’m not mad about the set-up of this scene, though – I’m already hard just thinking about how much like our first time this is.”

Without thinking, Peter pressed a kiss to his forehead, the words “I love you” rolling off his tongue so fucking easily.

Much like that first time, Peter started him on his knees, his hands enthusiastically pulling him back against his cock with a tight grip around his chest. Tony bit into his bottom lip to stop himself from groaning out how good Peter was making him feel, how much he loved the man making him feel that way. He slid his hand down his own chest to take his cock in hand just to stay distracted.

Peter wrapped him up more tightly and started to really thrust into him, his lips pressing against the shell of Tony’s ear. “I love you. And fuck, I love fucking you,” Peter whispered. The words pulled a long moan from Tony’s chest, his stomach tightening. The sneaky little shit knew all the right places to hit, Tony’s heart strings included.

Reaching up, he thrust his fingers into Peter’s hair, pulling his head closer. “I love you. Now flip me over and cum all over me,”

There wasn’t any further prompting needed. Peter did exactly what he asked, his hands desperately gripping Tony’s hips to keep them as close as possible. Tossing his head back, Tony didn’t notice the way Peter’s eyes bugged out, the younger man focused on the tattoo that was normally covered up.

Hard clenching hands had him looking up, Peter’s eyes trailing to the now fully uncovered ‘Property of Peter Parker Stark’ he got on his side the day they got married – the ‘EST. 2023’ seemed to stand out the most in the seconds between his arms coming up and Peter covering him with his upper body.

The news of their marriage was out before Tony could even call Pepper to tell her what happened. Clint showed him the footage as he cleaned Peter’s cum from his stomach, the last five minutes of camera work catching the words at every angle. They could always reshoot, but the news would be out, regardless. Tony watched two of the crew members take a picture of the playback screen.

Not wanting to deal with it, Tony got dressed as quickly as he could, collected his check, and disappeared into his Audi. For once, he wished that they drove in together – since the news would be out anyway. Getting a little comfort from his husband wouldn’t have been the worst thing. Tony forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths – he needed to get the fuck out of there and the only way to do that was to drive away as fast as he could. The tingling feeling in his fingers retreated, so he got the car started and out of the lot before the next round of freak-outs could happen.

Having Peter’s arms around him when Pepper sent them the first article published about their marriage sort of softened the blow. Not only did it go into explicit detail about their career in porn, which hadn’t been publicized because of the cultural taboo, there were a few pretty accurate accounts of bits and pieces of their relationship over the years. It seemed like they weren’t nearly as inconspicuous as they thought. “I could have sworn we were way better at not being completely obvious,” Tony mumbled as he buried his face in Peter’s neck.

For the first couple of days, Tony kept his phone turned off. Texts came in from all directions, some angry and some congratulatory. The mass of them was just way too overwhelming. He also didn’t want to deal with the fact that the adoption agency probably didn’t want anything to do with either of them. Tony wasn’t embarrassed by his career – he’d been doing it for over 20 years. The idea of his private life being shown to the entire world to see – that’s really where he felt the most grief.

When he couldn’t avoid working any longer, Tony returned to his office – he’d been apprehensive about going back, but the great husband he had wasn’t willing to let him give up on things. The sharp outfit Peter had waiting for him when he got out of the shower gave him just enough confidence to get out the door and walk in to work with his head held high.

Surprisingly, no one said a word to him. He felt eyes following him every now and again – that was to be expected. Yet, all of the people around him treated him exactly like they usually did. It confused him, how little it seemed to impact the professional part of his life.

The personal side was a whole different matter, however. After Tony turned his phone back on, he found several missed calls from the adoption agency. He hunkered against Peter and listened to the one definitive voicemail that said their case was now pending. They’d been in limbo for months now and the thought of taking any steps back made his heart hurt. In all reality, Tony could probably put money down on the fact that at least one person in that office that determined the goodness of a person had watched his videos.

It didn’t do him any good to think that way, though – he didn’t have any control over what happened from that point on.

Falling into a bit of a slump, Tony got himself too and from work, spent time with Peter, and even went to the gym like normal. He did his best to keep himself in the game, but it was getting harder by the day. In his worst moments, he wondered about the other people that actually got to take kids home – were their pasts squeaky clean, or did they just manage to keep it from getting splashed across the headlines?

A couple months after all the drama, Peter dropped an invitation in front of him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Annual Smutty Awards are coming up – we never get to go together, I thought maybe you might want to this year.” His voice was careful, Peter trying his absolute best to be supportive of him through all of the weird emotional ups and downs he experienced since bearing his heart (in the form of a tattoo) for all the world to see.

Tony didn’t need to look at the contents of the envelope to know that he would say yes. Now that they could be open about their relationship, it seemed like the perfect time to stroll up to the biggest night in the porn industry with the hottest man in the business on his arm. “I like the way you think, Pete,” Tony finally replied, a soft grin slipping across his lips. “I’ll call Nat and have her make us a couple of suits.”

The day rolled around a lot quicker than Tony anticipated. It’d been fun to go through the process of getting gussied up, including the suit fitting that Nat did in her usual no nonsense way. What she ended up creating for the evening was way beyond either of their expectations, the blue hues she put them in went well with Peter’s bright white skin and the dark hair that covered Tony’s head and chin. They offset each other and looked great standing side by side. After getting them dressed, she kissed both their cheeks. “You are two of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. Absolutely unfair.”

Smacking both their asses as they walked out of the room, Nat waved nonchalantly when Tony looked over his shoulder. He shook his head and slipped his hand into Peter’s, the new white gold band they started wearing pressing against his fingers. “She’s right, you know,” Tony said softly, his chin resting on Peter’s shoulder as they slowly made their way down the hall from their room to the front of the house where the limo was waiting. “You are – the most handsome man.”

Peter didn’t say anything until they were tucked into the limo, the two of them sharing the bench seat along the back. “No, that’s absolutely you. I’ve gotten so much hate over the past few months – the world is traumatized by the fact that their favorite silver fox is a happily married man,” Peter whispered, the words still coming out like shouts despite the low volume.

“The world is fucking crazy, isn’t it?” Tony shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him closer – “I’m just glad that at the end of the day, you’re still there to come home to.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Peter’s, the touch barely there. “Glad for you, Pete.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride – Tony happily allowing himself to be preoccupied with Peter’s lips and hands that ran up and down his sensitive thighs. By the time they got there, Tony was red faced, his hair mused and sticking out at weird angles. Peter shook his head at him and ran his fingers through it, the movement making it much worse. Despite that, Tony leaned in for one more kiss. “Might as well show them what the Parker Starks are really like.”

The walk down the pink carpet was much easier with Peter by his side – the paparazzi wasn’t interested in too many of them individually, so he got to keep an arm around his husband’s waist the entire length of it. When they were stopped for interviews, Peter didn’t step away from him, he merely gripped Tony tighter.

“It’s the Parker Starks!” Big Red, a well-known tv show host, exclaimed when they approached her. Tony let himself smile, the sound of their names together like that still enough to send his heart into overdrive.

“Yup, I guess the cat really is out of the bag,” Tony remarked, his fingers gripping Peter’s hip hard. He felt an answering squeeze on his shoulder, Peter’s silent support more than appreciated.

“It absolutely is. The world wants to know – why all the secrecy? 6 years is a long time.” She looked between them, the big painted on smile never leaving her face.

“It wasn’t secrecy – it was discretion. I was trying to grow up and juggle and industry that wanted to exploit my youth; keeping our private life private was a priority for us both,” Peter answered, his voice definitive; if they were anywhere else, Tony would’ve thought seriously about finding a quiet place and jumping his bones. He looked at him dreamily instead.

Their gazes met, Tony’s cheeks coloring with the rush of affection that pulsed through him. A loud ‘awe’ brought his attention back to the very live recording that was happening. “It’s obvious that you two are very much in love.” Big Red’s voice was saccharine sweet, the red lipstick getting more and more overwhelming by the second. Luckily, their time was up, the two of them escaping with quick hugs all around and drastic sighs of relief.

Right before walking into the theater, Tony’s phone started to ring – the number that popped up shocking them both. Looking over at Peter for a bit of courage, Tony swiped his finger across the front of the screen and accepted the adoption agency’s call.

“This is Tony Parker Stark – “

----

2023

Peter decided he wanted to marry Tony on a whim. They were celebrating their 4th year anniversary across the country – Tony got them into a small bed and breakfast in Italy. His mother was from the town they were staying in, so they spent their days exploring it: eating the food, drinking the wine, and making love wherever they possibly could. It seemed like the longer they were together, the more insatiable Peter became. It was obscene, how much he loved Tony Stark.

It was under the sepia light in a small restaurant that Peter grinned over at Tony and blurted out – “let’s get married.” Tony blinked at him; the signature eyebrow furrow being directed his way. Peter grinned at him, his smile growing. “Yeah, you know what – why don’t we? Want to marry me, Tony Stark?”

Tony stared at him dumbfoundedly for a few seconds before surging forward and pressing their lips together. It was more teeth than anything else, but totally perfect for the moment. “I don’t think you could have done that more perfectly,” Tony babbled when they pulled apart, his eyes glowing with the soft flicker of the candlelight sitting on their table.

The spur of the moment decision meant that he didn’t have a ring – but that didn’t seem to matter; wearing one while they were still shooting scenes wouldn’t be a thing, anyway. Peter simply pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote on one of the paper napkins on the table – “HE SAID YES – 9/21/2023”. Folding it a couple of times, he handed it over to Tony. “Until you can wear a ring on your hand.”

The day they got back on US soil, Tony and Peter applied for a marriage license and got married. Not a soul knew about it for a while, and they liked it that way. Getting to have Tony all to himself was something that didn’t happen often. The further they stepped away from the business that brought them together, the more they worked on individual things. It felt good to finally be in a college program that he liked and could afford – and watching Tony flourish would always be one of his favorite things.

Tying himself to Tony just sort of made sense, so he went with what his gut told him. When Peter got into MIT, Tony didn’t blink an eye and moved across the state with him. There wasn’t any question that together was how they were supposed to be – the permanence of marriage just made it more real.

He never told Tony about it, but he had a world shifting conversation with Clint after a scene a couple months after Italy. Since getting married, he’d been having trouble being as active a participant in the shoots. In all honesty, it’d been that way for a while. Clint was merciful and cut them for the day – his eyes following Peter as he cleaned himself up and got his shit together to get the hell out of dodge.

“Pete – wait a minute, will you?” Clint managed to get out before Peter could sneak out the door. Hanging his head, Peter walked back into the suite.

“What’s up, Clint?” Peter asked, his eyes staring at his shoes and nothing else.

“Did you guys finally make it official?” Clint put the question out there, point blank. It shouldn’t have been that surprising – both he and Tony worked with him for several years. The guy wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not even going to ask how you know. Yes – we did. And it’s fucking with my head. I don’t want anyone else.” Peter dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, the habit one he picked up from his beautiful husband.

“The long haul isn’t for everyone. Tony was a lifer because something better didn’t come his way. Not until you, of course. Maybe that’s enough, you know? That MIT degree can get you places.” Clint landed a hand on his shoulder, fingers squeezing. “Just a little food for thought.”

Neither of them said anything else, Peter hovered in Clint’s presence for another couple of minutes before turning and getting out as fast as he could. A part of him liked the fact that someone knew – Clint had obviously been keeping their secret for multiple years now. The rest of him was too focused on the man’s words to really worry about what Clint knowing actually meant. Having Tony meant the world, the life they were building was more than enough.

Later that night, Peter brought up leaving the business for good for the first time. Watching Tony’s eyes light up with a desire that the man himself probably wasn’t even aware of was the biggest sign that he’d done the right thing. “It might take us a while to phase out completely – but I’m right there with you. I’m getting too old for that shit, anyway.” Tony looked at him intensely, softness in his eye. The unspoken thank you sat in the air wrapping them both up in the exciting thought of a new start.

----

2027

Tony’s 47th birthday was the day they got to meet their son. After several phone calls and teary-eyed interviews with the agency, Tony and Peter were finally able to get their names cleared and put onto the list. The triumph of that was enough – but the opportunity to have another person join the family was the ultimate win. They got a call about a 4-year-old boy named Spencer needing a home six months later.

The first few days of fostering him were like a silent sort of torture. Tony wanted to love him up, but the shy look and overall tension the boy projected stopped him. He remembered how big of a dick his father was to him and simply smiled in Spencer’s direction, instead. Peter and Tony made pancakes at the stove side by side, their voices low as they tried their best to contain their excitement and extinguish the need to cling to the small boy. They’d been waiting for this moment for a long time – the kid that sat huddled in the booster seat at the table had not.

Slowly, Spencer started to open up – he didn’t do a lot of talking but would join them on the couch when they sat down to watch a movie and asked nightly for a story. It was a couple steps forward and a few steps back for a little while – but that was to be expected. The boy was still so young and surrounded by people and things he’d never seen before. Tony watched him eagerly, hoping for signs of acceptance.

All of the home visits they needed to have were passed with flying colors. They spent so much time making their house child proof, it was surprising that they were able to get to some of it. When it felt right, Tony and Peter were in the clear to sign the adoption papers. Before that happened, they wanted to give the small boy a chance to adjust and truly make sure he’d be comfortable with them. He came from an abusive situation and was understandably sceptic of people that were even the slightest bit like his abusers.

As the fall started to roll around, Tony and Peter were finally making a little bit of headway with Spencer. Tony managed to find an office that allowed him to work from home and Peter was steadily working his way through a graduate degree – there was plenty of time for the two of them to spend time with the boy they were absolutely smitten for.

The first true signs of Spencer starting to relax into the life they were offering came when Peter turned 26. Tony threw a small get together with Rhodey and Nat and all 4 of their kids. It was fantastic to watch Spencer run around with them and when they all broke for refreshments, Spencer came right up to him. “Can I have a juice box, dad?”

It took Tony a couple of seconds to process what he just heard – the word dad had only been tossed around a couple of times and never by Spencer himself. Forgetting himself for a moment, he threw his arms around the small boy, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “You can have whatever you want, Spence.” He quickly remembered and pulled away, but not before catching eyes with Peter. His husband was looking at him with an open mouth, his face a little scrunched up as if he were trying not to cry.

He sent the young boy on his way with a juice box, then quickly made walked over to Peter, a giant grin on his face. “He called me dad.” Tony gushed, wrapping his arms around his husband’s middle. “Holy shit.” He couldn’t believe it – after several months of trying to get Spencer out of his shell, it happened on a whim.

“What do you think he’ll call me? Papa, maybe?” Peter leaned into him, the racing of his heart against Tony’s hand making the moment all the more special. The simplicity of being gathered around friends and creating the most basic form of happiness was something he didn’t think he’d get to experience. Being loved so fiercely by Peter was the best thing to happen to him. Loving beside Peter with that same intensity was his most prized creation – he’d do anything for the family they continued to build on a daily basis.

Instead of waiting around, Tony and Peter sat down with Spencer. The little boy no longer looked at them with skepticism – his eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed with redness from the cool air they’d just been playing in. It was the greatest feeling – experiencing him take to them in the way they desired more than anything.

Tony laid a Capri Sun in front of him, his own on the table by his elbow. Taking a drink, he cleared his throat – an almost 5-year-old kid shouldn’t have made him so damn nervous. Peter’s hand on his thigh helped to ground him – Tony shot him a grateful look, his hand reaching under the table to grab it and hold tight.

“Spence, Papa and I are really excited that you came into our lives and we want you to stay. You make our little family complete. Do you – I mean,” Tony looked to Peter for help, his heart suddenly beating way too fast against his chest.

Peter stepped in, a soft tone to his voice. “What Dad is trying to ask is if you’d like to be a permanent member of the family. We love you and would be honored to be your parents.” It seemed like a lot to throw at a kid so young, but they both decided that everyone needed to be sure about it – Spencer included.

Watching him closely, Tony almost laughed out loud when the small boy sucked back the juice and sat forward. “You guys are already better than the parents I had before. I want to stay.”

And that was that.

They signed the papers in the courtroom a couple of days later – the judge proclaiming Spencer Parker Stark their son with a loud bang of his gavel.

Sitting in the booth of their favorite pizza place a few hours later, Peter wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder and pulled him close. Spencer was running around the play-place, so they had a couple minutes to themselves. “Is it everything you thought it’d be?” Peter asked, his lips pressing against the side of Tony’s head.

Tony leaned into him, his hand raising to tangle fingers with Peter.

“It’s even better.”

[love-pyramus]

P

Hi, you're on a rock floating in space. Pretty cool, huh? Some of it's water. Fuck it, actually, most of it's water. I can't even get from here to there without buying a boat. A plane is shown flying from South America to Africa. The plane fades off the screen, and a lone, sad stick figure is shown standing on Africa. NARRATOR: It's sad. I'm sad. I miss you. The camera pans left across the globe to show more sad stick figures also standing on South America, North America, and Europe. CHORUS: How did this happen? NARRATOR: A long time ago- Actually, never, and also now, nothing is nowhere. When? Never. Makes sense, right? Like I said, it didn't happen. Nothing was never anywhere. That's why it's been everywhere. It's been so everywhere, you don't need a where. You don't even need a when. That's how "every" it gets. A long pause happens. NARRATOR: Forget this. I wanna be something. Go somewhere. Do something. I want things to change. I want to invent time and space, and I know it's possible because everything is here, and it probably already happened. I just don't know when to start, and that's exactly where it started. The sound of VCR fast forwarding plays. NARRATOR: Ooh, I paused it. I think there's a universe now. What's it made of? CHORUS: Quarks and stuff! NARRATOR: Ah, that's a thing, in a place. Don't like it? Try a new place, at a different time. Try to stick together because the world is gonna get bigger and emptier, but it's not empty yet. It's still very full and about a kjghpillion degrees. About no seconds pass. NARRATOR: Great news! The quarks are now happily married and in groups of three, called a proton or a neutron, and there's something else flying around too that wants to join in but can't because it's still too- An explosion goes off while the screen says, "HOT." 10 minutes pass. NARRATOR: Great news! The protons and neutrons are now happily married to each other. Some of them even doubled up. About 380,000 years pass. NARRATOR: Great news! The electrons have now joined in. Congratulations! The world is now a bunch of gas in space, but it's getting closer together... 10 million years pass. NARRATOR: ...and it's getting closer together... 500 million years pass. NARRATOR: ...and it's getting closer toget- An explosion occurs. CHORUS: It's a star! NARRATOR: New shit just got made. Some stars burn out and die. Bigger stars burn out and die with passion, and make some brand new, way crazier shit... CHORUS: Space dust! NARRATOR: ...which allows newer, more interesting stars to be made, and then die, and explode into- CHORUS: Even crazier space dust! NARRATOR: ...so now stars have cool stuff around them, like rocks, ice, and funny clouds, which can make some very interesting things, like this ball of flaming rocks for example. NARRATOR: Holy shit! We just got hit with another ball of flaming rocks, and it kind of made a mess, which is- CHORUS: Now the Moon! The year is now -4,000,000,000. NARRATOR: Weather update, it's raining rocks from outer space. NARRATOR: Weather update, those rocks might have had water inside them, and now, there's hot steam in the sky. NARRATOR: Weather update, cooler temperatures today, and the floor is no longer lava. NARRATOR: Weather update, it's raining. NARRATOR: Severe flooding alert! The entire world is now an ocean. NARRATOR: Volcano alert! CHORUS: That's land! OCEAN: (Mumbles) There's life in the ocean. NARRATOR: What? CHORUS: Something's alive in the ocean. IMMATERIAL OBSERVER (IO): Oh, cool. Like, a plant or an animal? The camera zooms in on a single-cell organism. NARRATOR: No, a microscopic speck. It lives at the bottom of the ocean and eats chemical soup which is being served hot and fresh, made from gnarly space ingredients leftover from when it was raining rocks or whatever. The cell divides. NARRATOR: Oh, yeah, and it can do that. Those cells divide many more times. NARRATOR: It has secret instructions written inside itself telling it how to build another one of itself. So that's pretty nifty, I would say. NARRATOR:

Tired of living at the bottom of the ocean? CHORUS: Now you can eat sunlight! The year is now -3,000,000,000. NARRATOR: Using a revolutionary technique, you can convert sunlight into food. CHORUS: Taste the sun! The year is now -2,300,000,000. NARRATOR: Side effect, now there's oxygen everywhere and the sky is blue. Then the Earth might have been a snowball for a while. Maybe even a couple of times. The year is now -500,000,000. NARRATOR: It's a sponge. It's a plant. It's a worm, and some other types of weird, strange water bugs and strange fish. CHORUS: It's the Cambrian explosion! IO: Wow, that's animals and stuff. SEA LIFE: But we're still in the ocean. Hey, can we go on land? CHORUS, as LAND: No! SEA LIFE: Why? CHORUS, as LAND: The sun is a deadly lazer! SEA LIFE: Oh, okay. CHORUS: Not anymore, there's a blanket. NARRATOR: Now the animals can go on land. Come on animals, let's go on land. FISH: Nope, can't walk yet. And there's no food yet, so I don't care. 100 million years pass. LAND: Okay, will you learn to walk if there's plants up here? SOME BUGS AND FISH: Maybe NARRATOR: ...said some bugs... and fish. The year is now -380,000,000. FISH grunts because it is struggling to get on land, for it has no legs. 5 million years pass. The year is now -375,000,000. FISH now has legs, for it has evolved into an AMPHIBIAN. AMPHIBIAN: Okay, so I can go on land, but I have to go back in the water to- CHORUS: Have babies! The word "idea" flashes on to the screen. NARRATOR: Learn to use an egg. AMPHIBIAN: I was already doing that. NARRATOR: Use a stronger egg. Put water in it. Have a baby, on land, in an egg. Water is in the egg. Baby, in the egg, in the water, in the egg. The year is -312,000,000. AMPHIBIAN OFFSPRING: Works for me. CHORUS: Bye bye, ocean! 50 million years pass. NARRATOR: And now everything's huge. Including bugs. Wanna see a map of the land? IO: Sure. The year is now -252,000,000. A globe is presented. The camera starts to pan around it when a large explosion happens, destroying a land mass on the globe the size of a continent. Text pops onto the screen reading "PERMIAN EXTINCTION." The Permian Extinction has occurred. NARRATOR: Oh fuck, now everything's dead. Just kidding, here are the survivors. The thrinaxodon, lystrosaurus, and proterosuchus are shown. NARRATOR: Keep your eye on this one... The proterosuchus is circled. 75 million years pass. NARRATOR: ...'cause it's about to become the dinosaurs. Here's another map of the land. The globe is shown again. It does not yet look like the Earth we know today; many of the continents are in pieces or out of place. NARRATOR: Yeah, it broke apart. Don't worry about that. It does that all the time. The year is now -66,000,000. NARRATOR: Here comes a meteor. A meteor comes into frame and hits the globe near what is today called Central America. CHORUS: And the dinosaurs are gone! NARRATOR: It's mammal time! Here come the mammals; look at those breasts. The year is now -15,000,000. NARRATOR: Now, they're gonna dominate the world, and one of them just learned how to grab stuff, and walk. The year is now -4,000,000. A transition from one of human's older ancestors to one of human's younger ancestors is shown. NARRATOR: No, like, walk like that, and grab stuff at the same time. The year is now -3,000,000. NARRATOR: And bang rocks together to make pointed rocks. IO: Ouch. The year is now -1,500,000. NARRATOR: And set things on fire. IO: Yeouch. The year is now -200,000. NARRATOR: And make crazy sounds with their voice. CAVEMAN: Gneurshk. NARRATOR: Which can mean different things. Via the CAVEMAN's thought bubble, "Gnerushk," is shown to mean, "Hi," "Bye," and, "Can you hand me that rock over there?" CHORUS: That's a human person! NARRATOR: And now they're everywhere, almost. Text pops on to the screen, above the landmass that is today called North America. It reads "not here yet." Humans have not migrated there yet. The year is now -20,000. Text pops on to the screen, between what is today the American

state of Alaska and the Russian autonomous okrug (district) of Chukotka. The text reads "ice age." The ice age is occurring, creating a land bridge between the two landmasses. CHORUS: Ice age! HUMANS: What? You can walk over here? Cool! The year is now -10,000. CHORUS: Not anymore. HUMANS: Well, I guess we're stuck here now. NARRATOR: Let's review. There's people on the planet, and they're chasing their food. HUMAN: Fuck it, time to plant some grass. Look at this. I control the food now. Now, everyone will want to be my friend and live near me. Let's all build houses, except mine is bigger because I own the food. This is great. I wonder if anyone else is doing this. The year is now -5000. NARRATOR: Tired of using rocks for everything? Use metal! It's underground. NARRATOR: Better farming was just invented in a sweet dank valley right in between these two rivers, and the animals are helping. A sheep baas in the background. CHORUS: Guess what happens next! NARRATOR: More food, and more people who came to buy the food, and you need people to help make the food and keep track of the sales, and now, you need houses for people to live in and people to make the houses, and now, there's more people, and they invent things which makes things better, and more people come, and there's more farming and more people to make more things for more people, and now, there's business, money, writing, laws, power. CHORUS: Society! NARRATOR: Coming soon to a dank river valley near you. Meanwhile, out in the middle of nowhere, the horse is probably being tamed. DISTRAUGHT HUMAN: Why is all my metal so lame and lumpy? NARRATOR: Tired of using lame, sad metal? The year is now -3300. NARRATOR: Introducing- CHORUS: Bronze! NARRATOR: Made from special ingredient tin from the far lands of Tin Land... I don't know, my dealer won't tell me where he gets it. Also, guess what? CHORUS: Egypt! The year is now -2000. NARRATOR: Meanwhile, out in the middle of nowhere, they figured out how to put wheels on a horse. Now, we're getting somewhere. Also- CHORUS: China! NARRATOR: And did I mention- CHORUS: Indus River Valley Civilization! A "society count" comes on screen. It lists the four civilizations just named (including Mesopotamia, the "sweet dank valley right in between... two rivers"), as the counter counts up from one to four. It pauses for a moment before ticking up to five. A fifth civilization appears on the list. The camera pans right across the globe to what is modern day Peru. CHORUS: Norte Chico! NARRATOR: The Middle East is getting more complicated. Maybe because it's in the middle of the East. The year is now -1600. PEOPLE WITH HORSES: Knock, knock. Er... clop clop. NARRATOR: It's the people with the horses, and they made an empire, and then everyone else copied their horses. CHORUS: Greeks! NARRATOR: Ah, look, it must be the Greeks. Or, a beta version of the Greeks. Text pops up on screen, reading "mycenaean greeks." These "beta version... Greeks" are the Mycenaean Greeks. NARRATOR: Let's check in with the Indus River Valley Civilization - they're gone. Guess who's not gone? CHORUS: China! The year is now -1200. CHORUS: New arrivals in India! Maybe it's those horse people I was talking about, or their cousins, or something... And they wrote some hymns and mantras and stuff! NARRATOR: You could make a religion out of this. The year is now -1150. NARRATOR: There's the Bronze Age collapse. CHORUS: Now, the Phoenicians can get down to business! HUMANS: (Offscreen) Also, can we switch to a metal that's a little easier to find? Bronze switches to iron. HUMANS: (Offscreen) Thanks. NARRATOR: Look who came back to Israel - it's the twelve tribes of Israel! CHORUS: And they believe in God! NARRATOR: Just one though; he's got like a ten step program. NARRATOR: Here's some huge heads. Must be the Olmecs. The year is now -800. NARRATOR: The Phoenicians make some colonies. The Greeks copy their idea and make some colonies. The Phoenicians made a colony so big it makes colonies. The year is now

-671. NARRATOR: Here comes the Assyrian Empire. The year is now -600. NARRATOR: Nevermind, it's the Babyloni- The year is now -580. NARRATOR: Media- The year is now -500. CHORUS: It's the Persian Empire! IO: Wow, that's big. NARRATOR: Ah, the Buddha was just enlightened! IO: Who's the Buddha? NARRATOR: This guy, who sat under a tree for so long that he figured out how to ignore the fact that we're all dying. You could make a religion out of this. The year is now -475. NARRATOR: Oops, China just broke, but while it was breaking, Confucius was figuring out how to have good morals. The year is now -400. NARRATOR: Ah, the Greeks just had the idea of thinking about stuff... The year is now -330. NARRATOR: ...and right over here, Alexander just had the idea of conquering the entire Persian empire. It's a great idea. He was... Great, and now he's dead. Hopefully, the rest of the gang will be able to share the empire evenly between them. The year is now -305. CHANDRAGUPTA: Knock knock. NARRATOR: It's Chandragupta. He says- CHANDRAGUPTA: Get the hell out of here. Will you get the hell out of here if I give you five hundred elephants? Okay, thanks. Bye. CHORUS: Time to conquer all of India! NARRATOR: Er- CHORUS: Most of India! IO: But what about this part? NARRATOR: That's the Tamil kings. No one conquers the Tamil kings. IO: Who are the Tamil kings? CHORUS: Merchants, probably... And they've got spices! TAMIL KINGS: Who would like to buy the spices? ARABIANS: Me! NARRATOR: ...said the Arabians, swiftly buying it and selling it to the rest of the world. The year is now -221. NARRATOR: Hey, China put itself back together again, with good morals as their main philosophy! Actually, they have three main philosophies. Confucianism, Taoism, and legalism appear with the corresponding messages under: having good morals, go with the flow, and "fuck you obey the law". The land northwest of Qin China, which is roughly modern-day Mongolia, is circled. NARRATOR: Out here, the horse nomads run wild and free, and they would like to ransack your city. The horse nomads repeatedly bump into China with the coin sound effect from Super Mario playing each time they do so. The camera pans left on the globe back to the Ancient Greek Empire. NARRATOR: Let's check the Greekification levels of the Greekified kingdoms. Greekification overload! PARTHIANS: Bye. NARRATOR: ...said the Parthians. JEWS: Bye. NARRATOR: ...said the Jews. PARTHIANS: Hi! NARRATOR: ...said the Parthians, taking over the entire place. The year is now 1 CE. ROMANS: Heyyyyyyyy... NARRATOR: ...said the Romans, eating the entire Mediterranean for breakfast. JEWS: Thanks for invading our homeland. NARRATOR: ...said the Jews, who were starting to get tired of people invading their homeland. The year is now 30 CE. JESUS CHRIST: Hi, everything's great. NARRATOR: ...said some guy, who seems to be getting very popular, and is then arrested and killed for being too popular, which only makes him more popular. You could make a religion out of this. NARRATOR: Want silk? Now, you can buy it from China. They just made a- CHORUS: Brand new road to the world! China conquers Vietnam. CHORUS: Or you can get there on water! INDIA: Sick! New trade routes. NARRATOR: ...said India, accidentally spreading their religion to the entire southeast. Funan is highlighted. NARRATOR: Hm, that's a good place for an epic trading kingdom. The sound of a zooming car plays. NARRATOR: There goes Buddhism, traveling up the silk road. The year is now 220. NARRATOR: I wonder if it'll reach China before it collapses again. The year is now 225. NARRATOR: Remember the Persian Empire? PERSIANS: Yep. NARRATOR: ...said the Persians, making a new one. Axum is getting so powerful they would like to build a long stick. Has anyone populated Madagascar yet? BANTU and MALAY: Let's do it together! The year is now 280. CHORUS: China is whole again! The year is now 320. CHORUS: Then it broke again. NARRATOR: Still can't cross the Sahara Desert? Try camels! CHORUS, as

GHANA EMPIRE: Hell yeah! Now we've got business! NARRATOR: ...said the Ghana Empire, selling lots of gold and slaves. ROMAN CHRISTIAN: Hi, I live in the Roman Empire, and I was wondering- CHORUS, as ROMAN CHRISTIAN: Is loving Jesus legal yet? ROME: No. The year is now 330. CONSTANTINE: Actually, okay, sure. NARRATOR: ...said Constantine, moving the capital way over here to be closer to his- CHORUS: Main rival! CONSTANTINE: Don't worry about Rome; it won't fall. The year is now 400. CHORUS: It's the golden age of India! NARRATOR: There's the Gupta Empire, not Chandragupta, just Gupta... First name Chandra... The First. Guess who's in Rome. CHORUS: Barbarians! NARRATOR: What's a barbarian? ROMANS: Non-Romans. NARRATOR: ...said the Romans, being invaded by non-Romans. The year is now 476. NARRATOR: R.I.P. Roman Empire. Er, actually just half of it; the other half is just fine, but it's not in Rome anymore, so let's give it a new name. CHORUS: The Mayans have figured out the stars! NARRATOR: Oh, and here's a huge city, population: everyone. The year is now 576. NARRATOR: The Göktürks have taken over the entire Eurasian steppe. Great job, Göktürks. How's India? Broken. How's China? CHORUS: Back together. NARRATOR: How's those trading kingdoms? CHORUS: Bigger, and there's more of them. NARRATOR: Korea has three kingdoms. Japan has a kingdom; it's the sunrise kingdom. An intermission occurs. The year is now 610. NARRATOR: Deep in the Arabian desert, on the top of a mountain, the real god whispers in Muhammad's ear, so he goes down to the cube where everyone worships gods, and he tells them their gods are all fake... The year is now 622. NARRATOR: ...and everyone got so mad at him that he had to leave town and go to a different town. You can make a religion out of this... The year is now 650. NARRATOR: ...and maybe conquer the world as well. The Roman Empire is long gone, but somehow, the Pope is still the Pope! Plus, there's- CHORUS: New kingdoms all over Europe! NARRATOR: I wonder if there's room for Moors. The year is now 786. NARRATOR: Here's all the wisdom, in a house: it's the Baghdad House of Wisdom, just in time for the- CHORUS: Islamic Golden Age! SWAHILI: Let's bring stuff to the coast, and sell it, and become the Swahili on the Swahili Coast. NARRATOR: ...said the Swahili on the Swahili Coast. NARRATOR: Remember this tiny space you have to go through to get from here to there? Someone owns that now. NARRATOR: Wanna get enlightened in the middle of nowhere? NARRATOR: The Franks have the biggest kingdom in Europe, and the Pope is so proud that he invites the king over for Christmas. The year is now 800. POPE: Surprise! You're the new Roman Emperor! NARRATOR: ...said the Pope, pretending to still be part of the Roman Empire. Then, the Franks broke their kingdom into what will later be called France and Not France. The Northerners (or just Norse, if you don't have much time) are exploring. They go north, from the north, to the northern north, and they find some land, two types of land, and they name them accordingly. Large text comes on screen reading, "prankd." NARRATOR: They also invade some other places and get called many names, such as Vikings. The year is now 882. NARRATOR: There's the Rus, the Kievan Rus. IO: Are they Vikings? KIEVAN RUS: I don't think so. NARRATOR: ...said the Kievan Rus. IO: Okay, fair enough. NARRATOR: The Pope is ready to make some more emperors of the Roman Empire, the Holy Roman Empire. It's actually Germany, but don't worry about it! New kingdoms! DISTORTED VOICE: CHRISTIANIZE ALL THE KINGDOMS! NARRATOR: Which brand would you like? ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH: Mine's better. EASTERN ORTHODOX CHURCH: Mine's better. ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH: Mine's better. The year is now 1066. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR: Time to conquer England. NARRATOR: ...said William. The year is now 1071. NARRATOR: It's a bird! It's a plane! It's the Seljuk Turks! BYZANTINE EMPIRE: Aah! NARRATOR: ...said the Byzantine Empire, who's getting so small it almost doesn't

exist anymore. BYZANTINE EMPIRE: We need help! NARRATOR: They need help, so they call the Pope. BYZANTINE EMPIRE: Hey, Pope, can you help us get rid of the Seljuks? Maybe take back the Holy Land on the way? Come on, I know you want to take back the Holy Land. POPE: Yes, I do actually want to do that. Let's do a Crusade. The year is now 1099. CHORUS: Crusade! NARRATOR: They did many crusades, some of which almost didn't fail, but at the least the Italians got some sweet trade deals. The year is now 1100. NARRATOR: Goodbye, Mayans. CHORUS: Hello, Toltecs! NARRATOR: Goodbye, Toltecs. CHORUS: Hello, Mississippi! NARRATOR: Look at those mounds! There's the Pueblo. I've always wondered how to build a town on a cliff. The year is now 1150. NARRATOR: Guess who's here? Khmer! IO: Where? NARRATOR: Here, and Pegan is there! Vietnam unconquered itself, Korea just became itself... The year is now 1192. NARRATOR: ...and Japan is so addicted to art that the military might have to take over the government. China just invented bombs and typing... The year is now 1230. It rapidly starts to count upward as the Mongols spin and fly all over north Asia. The year ends on 1259. NARRATOR: ...and the Mongols just invaded most of the universe. (sarcastically) Nice going, Genghis! I bet that will last a long time. The Mongol Empire that was just formed shatters. NARRATOR: Some of the Islamic Turks were unaffected by the Mongol invasions because they were busy invading India. Bright, happy text comes on the screen reading, "tonga time." NARRATOR: Is it Tonga time? TONGAN: I think it's Tonga time! Text comes on screen reading, "colonizing the pacific ocean..." The Tu'i Tonga Empire forms. NARRATOR: I just found out where the Swahili gets all their gold! It is shown that the gold comes from the Great Zimbabwe, as the Great Zimbabwe is highlighted. NARRATOR: Look at this "chad" (it means lake). There's an empire there, right in the middle of- CHORUS: Africa! The year is now 1324. NARRATOR: The King of Mali is so rich, he's going on tour to let everyone know. NORTH AFRICA and THE MIDDLE EAST: Wow, that guy's rich. NARRATOR: ...everyone said. The Christians are doing a great job reconquering Iberia, which will soon be called Spain and Not-Spain. IBERIAN PENINSULA: Please remain Christian. We will check in later to see if you're still Christian when you least expect. The year is now 1350. NARRATOR: Whoops! Half of Europe just died! CHORUS: Ming! NARRATOR: China's back, yay! The year is now 1400. Hey Khmer, time to share! New kingdoms here and there. Oh, look who controls all the islands. It's the Mahajapit- The buzz of an "incorrect" buzzer buzzes. NARRATOR: Majahapit- Buzzes. NARRATOR: Mapajahit- Buzzes. NARRATOR: Mahapajit- Buzzes. NARRATOR: Mapajahit- Buzzes. NARRATOR: Ma-ja-pa-hit? The ring of a "correct" bell rings. The year is now 1450. NARRATOR: Oh, Italy's really rich. Time for them to care a lot about art and the ancient classics. It's kinda like a re-birth. The text on the screen reads "renaissance". NARRATOR: Here's a printer, let's make books! BYZANTINE EMPIRE: So you think you can conquer the Byzantine Empire? OTTOMAN TURKS: Yep. NARRATOR: ...said the Ottoman Turks. Nice job, Ottoman Turks! The year is now 1453. NARRATOR: Oops, you missed a spot. Don't forget to ban Europe from the Indian spice trade. PORTUGAL: What? That's bullshit! NARRATOR: ...said Portugal, spiceless. CHORUS, as PORTUGAL: Well, I guess we'll have to find another way to India! CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS: Wait! NARRATOR: ...said Christopher Columbus, probably smoking crack. COLUMBUS: If the world is round, let's go this way to India! PORTUGAL: Nah, don't worry, we already got this NARRATOR: ...said Portugal. So Chris goes to Spain. COLUMBUS: Hey, Spain, wanna hire me to find India by going around the back of the world? SPAIN: No. COLUMBUS: Please? SPAIN: No. COLUMBUS: Please? SPAIN: No. COLUMBUS: Please? SPAIN: Okay. The year is now 1492. NARRATOR: So he sails into the ocean and discovers... More

ocean... And then discovers the Indies and Japan. The year is now 1494. SPAIN and PORTUGAL: Let's draw a line to decide who gets which half of the world. NARRATOR: The Aztec and Inca Empires are off to a great start. I wonder if they know that Europe just discovered their continent? NARRATOR: The Hapsburgs are marrying into so many royal families that they might have to start marrying each other. The year is now 1500. NARRATOR: Move over, Lithuania! Here comes Moscow. Ivan wants to make Russia great again. Move over, Timurids; maybe go invade India or something. The year is now 1501. NARRATOR: Persia just made Persia Persian again. Let's make it the other kind of Islam, the one where we thought the first guy should have been the other guy. ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH: Hey, Christians! Do you sin? Now you can buy your way out of Hell. MARTIN LUTHER: That's bullshit, this whole thing is bullshit, that's a scam, fuck the church. Here's 95 reasons why. NARRATOR: ...said Martin Luther, in his new book which might have accidentally started the Protestant Reformation. SULEIMAN THE MAGNIFICENT: You know what would be magnificent? NARRATOR: ...said Suleiman, wearing an onion hat. The year is now 1530. SULEIMAN: What if the Ottoman Empire was really big, which it is now? The year is now 1556. IVAN THE TERRIBLE: What if Russia was big? NARRATOR: ...said Ivan, trying not to be terrible. NARRATOR: Portugal had a dream that they controlled the entire Indian Ocean, including the Spice Trade... and then that dream was real. And Spain realized that this is not India, but they pillaged it anyway! ENGLAND and FRANCE: Damn. NARRATOR: ...said England and France. ENGLAND and FRANCE: We gotta start pillaging some stuff. NARRATOR: Then, the Dutch revolt, and all the hipsters move to Amsterdam. The year is now 1600. AMSTERDAM: Damn. NARRATOR: ...said Amsterdam. AMSTERDAM: We gotta start pillaging some stuff. ENGLAND, FRANCE, and THE DUTCH: Question 1: Can you get to India through North America? No, but at least there's beaver. Question 2: Steal the Spice Trade. NARRATOR: That's not a question, but the Dutch did it anyway. CHORUS: Sugar! The year is now 1640. NARRATOR: Guess where all the sugar is made. In Brazil- THE DUTCH: Stolen! NARRATOR: -In the Caribbean, and it's so goddamn profitable that you might forget to not do slavery. The next thing on Russia's to-do-list is to get bigger. The year is now 1754. NARRATOR: Britain and France are having a friendly discussion about who should control the entire world, more specifically Ohio. Then it escalates into a seven year discussion, giving Prussia a chance to show Austria who's boss. IO: But what about Britain and France? Did they figure out who's boss? NARRATOR: Yes, they did! It's Britain. Guess who's broke. Also Britain, so they start taxing the Hell out of America. The year is now 1776. AMERICA: Fuck you. NARRATOR: ...says America, declaring their independence and fighting for it, and France helps them win. Now, France is broke... The year is now 1788. NARRATOR: ...and Britain will have to send their prisoners to a different continent. IO: Wait, if France is broke, why do the king and queen still wear such fancy dresses? The year is now 1794. ROBESPIERRE: Let's overthrow the palace and cut all their heads off! NARRATOR: ...says Robespierre, cutting everybody's head off until someone eventually got mad and cut his head off. IO: You could make a religi- NARRATOR: No, don't. Haiti is starting to like the idea of a revolution... The year is now 1791. NARRATOR: ...especially the slaves, who free themselves by killing their masters. TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE: Why didn't we think of this before? IO: Wait, who's in charge of France now? The year is now 1804. CHORUS, as NAPOLEON: Me! NARRATOR: ...said Napoleon, trying to take over Europe. Luckily, they banished him to an island- CHORUS: But he came back! NARRATOR: Luckily, they banished him to another island. A burst of horns play. NARRATOR: There goes Latin America, becoming independent in the Latin

American Wars of Independence. They last from the year 1812 to about 1830. NARRATOR: Britain just figured out how to turn steam into power, so now, they can make- CHORUS: Many different types of machines, and factories with machines in them, so they can make a lot of products real fast. NARRATOR: Then, they invent some trains and conquer India and maybe put some trains there. BRITAIN: Hey, China! NARRATOR: ...said Britain. BRITAIN: Buy stuff from us! CHINA: Nah, dude, we already got everything. NARRATOR: ...says China, so Britain tried to get them addicted to opium, which worked, actually, but then, China made it illegal... The year is now 1839. NARRATOR: ...and dumped it all into the sea, so Britain threw a hissy fit and made them open up five cities and give them an island. Britain and Russia are playing a game where they try and stop each other from conquering Afghanistan. Also, the- CHORUS: Sultan of Oman lives in Zanzibar now. NARRATOR: That's just where he lives. The year is now 1857. NARRATOR: India just had a revolution, and they would like to govern themselves now. BRITAIN: Nope. NARRATOR: ...said Britain, governing them even harder than before. The screen reads, "HI I JUST SENT YOU A MESSAGE THRU A WIRE," while the Morse Code for "SEXLOL" plays in the background. CHORUS: Technology is about to go crazy! The year is now 1863. NARRATOR: The United States finally figured out whether slavery is good or bad. ABRAHAM LINCOLN: It's bad. NARRATOR: ...they decided, and then, they continued manifesting their destiny, which is to kill the rest of the natives and take their land and maybe kick out the Mexicans too. The year is now 1884. EUROPE: I know! Let's rape Africa. NARRATOR: ...said Europe, scrambling to see who could rape it the fastest. (They never got Ethiopia.) Britain and France are still hungry! (They never got Thailand.) The United States ran out of destiny to manifest, so they're looking for more. CHORUS: Hawaii and Cuba! IO: Wait! Spain controls Cuba! UNITED STATES: Well, blame something on them, and go to war. AMERICANS: What should we blame on Spain? The U.S.S. Maine explodes in the Gulf of Mexico. UNITED STATES: Let's blame the Maine on Spain NARRATOR: ...so they blame the Maine on Spain. The year is now 1898. AMERICANS: Now, we're in business! NARRATOR: To celebrate, they kick Panama out of Panama and make a canal, connecting the two oceans. The year is now 1908. NARRATOR: Britain just found oil in the Middle East. (It makes cars go.) The year is now 1911. NARRATOR: China is so tired of being bossed around that they delete their old government and make a new, stronger government, which is accidentally weaker and controlled by a guy from the previous government. Europe hasn't had a war since the last war... The year is now 1914. NARRATOR: ...so they start World War I. Look at those guns! It's gonna be a "Great War" - so great we won't need a second one. After it's over, they blame Germany. The year is now 1917. NARRATOR: Russia went on strike, and the workers overthrew the government. Now, everyone's paycheck is the same. The year is now 1922. CHORUS: Communism, in the Soviet Union! NARRATOR: The Arabs revolt... The year is now 1917. NARRATOR: ...and Britain helps. BRITAIN: (Offscreen) Now, the Ottoman Empire is gone, The year is now 1922. BRITAIN: (Offscreen) So we can give the- CHORUS: Jewish people a place to live! NARRATOR: Hopefully, the Arabs won't mind. SYKES and PICOT: Let's cut the cake! NARRATOR: ...said Sykes and Picot, cutting up the remains of the Not-So-Ottoman-Anymore Empire. The year is now 1923. CHORUS: Except Turkey! Turkey makes a brand new Turkey! NARRATOR: ...and then, the Saudis conquer Arabia. It just seemed like the right thing to do. A phone rings. IO: Hello? THE 1920s: Yes, it's the 1920s calling. Let's get in a car and drive to a party and listen to jazz on the radio and go to the movies. The economy is great, and it will probably be great forever- just kidding! A slide whistle with decreasing pitch briefly plays.

The year is now 1933. NARRATOR: Germany is back, featuring Hitler, the angry mustache model, and he's mad at the Jews for existing. Japan is finally conquering the East, and they're so excited... The year is now 1937. NARRATOR: ...they rape Nanking way too hard. They should probably just deny it. The year is now 1945. NARRATOR: Hitler's out of control, so the international community tackles him and tries to explain why killing all the Jews is a bad idea. But he kills himself before they could explain it to him. CHORUS: That's World War II! NARRATOR: Bonus Round! Air horns momentarily play in the background. NARRATOR: (Like Announcer from Mortal Kombat) Pacific Showdown: United States versus Japan! Fight! A drop-down menu that reads "weapon select" pops up, and the U.S. cursor moves down from "boat" to "plane" to "extinction ball." It is picked, dropped on Japan, and an explosion results. The year is now 1945. NARRATOR: (Like Announcer from Mortal Kombat) Finish him! Another one is dropped, and another explosion follows. NARRATOR: Let's unite all the nations and have some- CHORUS: World peace! NARRATOR: Seems legit. GANDHI: Hi, I'm Gandhi, and if Britain doesn't get the Hell out of India, I'm gonna starve myself in public. The year is now 1947. Britain leaves. GANDHI: Wow, that worked? NARRATOR: Bonus! Now, there's Pakistan. Actually, two Pakistans; one of them can be Bangladesh later. The Jews and the Arabs finally figured out which one of them should live in the Holy Land. JEWS and ARABS: Me! NARRATOR: ...they both said at the same time. The year is now 1947. UNITED NATIONS: Let's divide up the land so everyone's happy. CHORUS: Sike! They both get angrier. NARRATOR: Look out, China! The year is now 1949. NARRATOR: There's a new China in China! What's on the menu? PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC of CHINA: Communism! REPUBLIC of CHINA: No, thanks. NARRATOR: ...said the other China, escaping to an island. I wonder which one is the real China? The year is now 1950. NARRATOR: There's the Korean War: Korea versus Korea. Nobody wins and then it's on pause forever. Let's meet the sponsors! Oh, it's the two global superpowers. They're having a friendly debate over which economic system is good and which one is an evil virus of Satan. And they both have atom bombs. NARRATOR: (With an echo) FIGHT! NARRATOR: Wait, no, that would be the end of the world. Let's just keep it cool and spy on each other instead, and make sure we have enough atom bombs. The year is now 1957. SOVIET UNION: I'll race you to space. The year is now 1969. An American rocket ship is shown to land on the moon. SOVIET UNION and UNITED STATES: Now, let's make some more countries fight themselves. NARRATOR: Europe is tired of pillaging other continents, and the continents they were pillaging are tired of being pillaged. So here's a new map, with new countries! Now, you can't tell who they're being pillaged by. The year is now 1963. NARRATOR: The United States finally decided whether racism is good or bad. They decided it's bad, and the world agrees. South Africa might need another minute to think about it. Let's check the world population. A graph is shown, displaying a spike upward in population that jumped from "a billion" at the beginning of the 1800s to "way more" around the beginning of the 2000s. IO: Whoa... Okay. NARRATOR: Technology is better too; that might keep happening. The Soviet Union decides to relax a little... The year is now 1991. NARRATOR: ...and accidentally falls apart. Europe makes a union... The year is now 1999. NARRATOR: ...so now, they can all use the same money, except Britain 'cause they don't feel like it. Let's check the mail! Surprise! It's on the computer. The year is now 2001. NARRATOR: Whoops, someone just attacked America. I bet they'll remember that. Phone call! Surprise! It's in your pocket. Wanna learn everything? Surprise! It's on the computer. Now, your phone's a computer, which is in your pocket. A chart of the 2008 economic recession is shown. NARRATOR: Whoops, the economy just

crashed. Don't worry, the big banks won't fail because they're not supposed to. Surprise! Flying robots, with bombs. Wanna print a brain? Some people have no friends, some people have no food, the globe is warming- CHORUS: And the ocean is full of plastic! EVERYBODY: Let's save the planet! NARRATOR: ...said everybody, not knowing how. The year is now 2028. THING INVENTOR INVENTOR: Let's invent a thing inventor. NARRATOR: ...said the thing inventor inventor, after being invented by a thing inventor. That's pretty cool. By the way, where the Hell are we?

[keep-looking-here]

Shoreline

A short story piece by me, Emily. I haven’t written any poetry in ages, but I thought you guys might want to read this.

.._.._..

I took her to the beach on our three-month anniversary. 

Beaches were not a place we went together.

Beaches, Amina said to me, are for straight white girls in bikinis. Beaches have sand that gets stuck in your toenails and water that hurts your eyes and people who look at you weirdly when you don’t show enough skin. Why would I go to a beach?

Sometimes, I would protest this. Most of the time, I would laugh, and she would laugh, and if the way the ocean pushed and pulled felt like breathing, then Amina’s laughter was the blood that ran through my veins, and there was nothing I would have traded for it.

But this was no Cottesloe or Scarborough, no tanned and toned surfers braving the waves or bikini-clad women soaking up the summer sun. No, here the beach was frequented only by distant couples on afternoon walks with their dogs, the murky water empty save for stingers which left swollen welts up your arms that burned and smarted for hours, leaving behind a trail of red pinpricks where their tentacles pierced your skin. 

We picked our way down from the dunes to the shoreline, over the deep tyre-ruts left by the trucks that would bring new loads of sand after the ocean swept the coastline away. Amina left her shoes under a scraggly salt-beat bush; I hadn’t worn shoes in the first place.

I came here loads when I was younger, I said.

Yeah?

Yeah. After we moved from the country, it was nice to have a place that didn't feel as civilised, y’know? The city feels like it goes on forever, suburb after suburb all the way to the horizon. But there are still gaps, places that you can’t quite figure out, where time seems to go in a different direction. I reckon this is one of them.

We walked down to the shoreline, and I let the waves lap up to my ankles. Out past the ruins of the old jetty, where the rusting hull of some abandoned vessel jutted sharply out of the sand, a statue of a man on horseback stood lonely in the water. It was a rather macabre monument, dedicated to a man who planned a 500 kilometre pipeline that stretched out into the desert, but rode into the ocean and shot himself before the water made it through. 

One time, I told Amina, my little brother tried to climb the statue, but he scraped his arms open on the barnacles that coated its surface and had to swim, bleeding, back to shore. 

She laughed, but it was an empty sort of laugh.

I kicked at the water, absently. The murmur of the waves hung heavy in the silence between us, but nothing, I think, could have flowed in to fill that gap. How many times had my footsteps crossed this space, tracing the same paths backwards and forwards? I spent so many years trying to figure myself out, sifting through all the stuff that I’d ever been taught, until it felt like I would never see the bottom. But if there was ever a constant in the chaos, it was here, where the ocean breathed and the ocean changed, but only in the ways I knew it would.

It’s weird, I said to Amina, that we were kids once, y’know? Five years ago, I was still determined to marry a man, just to win my parent’s approval. I still sat in church, and tried to believe everything they said. I was still a scared kid, who spoke more in the things that I didn't say than in the things that I did. And now -

I paused. Turned towards Amina, but she had taken a step backwards, the swirling water rising up to her calves.

And now what? she snapped, her voice sharp and salt-water bitter. And now you’re bringing your girlfriend home like it’s some god-damned rite of passage? Do you really expect me to sit there just so I can be judged by your family?

God, Amina, you know it’s not like that! I want them in my life, ok? I can’t cut them off just to avoid one awkward dinner.

You’ve told me how all the things they taught you hurt you, how things still don’t feel the same around them after you told them. How can you want this after all that? 

They’re trying to make things better, I said. And then: they’re still my family.

Amina laughed, but it sounded more like she was choking.

Don’t try and pull that stuff on me. Family doesn’t guarantee anything. 

Maybe it doesn’t for you, I said.

Amina didn't respond, but she let go of her breath in one long, continuous exhalation, and the sound of her sigh echoed above the waves. 

.._.._..

I’d never met Amina’s parents.

When she came out, she told me, they threw each word they spoke to her like punches until they knocked her right out the door. 

She still called them, sometimes. But their conversations were cold and shallow, like the way the ocean in my hometown felt at six in the morning, numbing your fingers and biting your bones until it forced your retreat to the safety of the sand and a hot shower back at home.

We walked up and down the shoreline, Amina and I, tracing the same footsteps, backwards and forwards. The water pushed and pulled at our ankles, cool, but never cold enough to bite. I pressed my foot into the sand, watched the water pool and fill up the hole it left behind.

I came here with my mum, I said to Amina, the day after I came out. We didn't really talk much, just jogged down the beach with the dog. Dipped our heads into the water, then headed home, y’know? Like any other day. But she was the one who asked me to come, even after everything that happened the night before. I think that’s what matters the most to me. That despite everything, they’re still trying to be a family.

God, Amina said. I wish I had that.

But she took my hand anyway, and it was gentler than her words could ever be.

The ocean breathed. In, sucking sand and shells and bits of broken glass down into its frothing maw. Out, spitting up the seed-pods of seagrass that formed a luridly green and slimy mat at the edges of the waves’ reach, the bodies of fish and bluebottles and all the other lost, dead things that would gradually find their way to the shore. Even as we turned our backs and wandered up to the dunes, its presence still hung in the air in the soft whoosh of the waves, the swish of the water over the sand. This was an in-between place, the knife’s edge between two worlds, where the known and the unknown brushed each other in a gentle yet passionate caress. But I had spent too many years of my life living in the gaps and silences, in the spaces that the truths we don’t say leave behind. 

So if the push and pull of the ocean was the breath in my lungs, then Amina’s hand in mine was the strength in my bones, an assurance that I would remain standing even as we left the shoreline for the dreadful, beautiful certainty of the suburbs beyond. And there was nothing that I would have traded for it.

[arts-rock]

The History of the World I guess is below this cut. And I wrote it myself.

(1)

Hi. You’re on a rock, floating in space.

Pretty cool huh?

Some of it’s water :)

fuck it.

Actually most of it’s water :D

I can’t even get from 🇺🇸here to 🇩🇪there without buying a boat

It’s sad :(

I’m sad :(

I miss you.

How did this happen?

A long time ago-

actually never.

and also now.

Nothing was nowhere. When? Never.

Makes sense right?

Like I said, never happened.

Nothing was never anywhere.

That’s why it’s been *everywhere*

It’s been so everywhere you don’t even need a where. you don’t even need a when.

✨That’s how every it gets.✨

Screw this.

I wanna be something

Go somewhere.

Do something.

I want things to change.

I want to invent time and space.

And I know it’s possible, because everything’s already here. I just don’t know when to start...

And that’s exactly how it started.

*space noises*

Wait- I think I paused it.

I think there’s a universe now.

“What’s it made of?”

✨Quarks and stuff✨

Ah that’s a thing™️

In a place™️

Don’t like it?

Try a new place.

At a different time.

Try to stick together.

Cause the universe is gonna get bigger. And emptier.

But it’s not empty yet!

It’s still very full, and about a bajillion degrees.

Great news! The quarks are now happily married in groups of three, called a proton(+) or a neutron(=)

And there’s another thing trying to get in but it can’t cause it’s too- H̵̎͛O̴̽͘T̸̨̅

Great news!

The protons and neutrons are now happily married to eachother! :) (some of them even doubled up)

Great news! The electrons(-) have joined in-

-Congratulations! The world is now

A bunch of gas in space.

But it’s getting closer together.

and it’s getting closer together

and it’s getting closer t-

💥

It’s a 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻

New shit just got made.

Some stars burn out and die.

Other stars burn out and die with ✨passion✨

And makes some brand new, way crazier, shit.

Space dust!

which allows newer, more interesting stars to be made, and die, and turn into

Even ✨crazier✨ space dust!

So now stars have cool stuff around them

Like rocks, and ice, and funny little clouds, which can make some very interesting things.

Like this flaming ball of rocks for example(“earth”)

☄️!

Holy shit, we just got hit with another ball of flaming rocks

And it kinda made a mess... which is-

𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒 ✨𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃✨

Weather update: it’s raining rocks from outer space

Weather update: those rocks may have had water inside them and now there’s hot steam in the sky

Weather update: cooler temperatures today and the floor is no longer lava 👍

Weather update:

It’s raining. 🌧

Volcano alert!

✨That’s land!✨

ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ

What?

Something’s alive in the ocean

Oh cool, like a... plant or an animal?

No! 😃

A microscopic spec

It lives at the bottom of the ocean and eats chemical soup!

Which was left over from when it was raining rocks or whatever

*shoom, splits apart*

oh yeah, and it can do that

*shoom shoom shoom*

It has secret instructions inside of itself that teaches it how to make another one of itself, which is pretty nifty I would say :)

Tired of living at the bottom of the ocean?

✨Now you can eat sunlight!✨

Using a revolutionary technique(photosynthesis) you can turn sunlight into food.

Taste the 𝓢𝓾𝓷

Side affect,

now there’s oxygen everywhere and the sky is blue

Then the earth might’ve been a snowball for a while-

Maybe even a couple of times-

It’s a sponge, it’s a plant!

It’s a worm and some other types of weird strange water bugs and strange fish!

It’s the ✨𝒞𝒶𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 ✨

“Wow that’s animals and stuff.”

But we’re still in the ocean, hey can we go on land?

No.

Why?

The sun is a deadly laser.

Oh okay. :(

✨Not anymore, there’s a blanket!(Ozone)✨

Now we can go on land!

Cmon animals, let’s go on land! :D

“Nope, can’t walk yet. :/“

“Also there’s no food yet, so I don’t care. >:/“

Okay will you learn to walk if there’s plants up here?

“Maybe” said some bugs, and fish

*fish being unable to get on land*

okay so I can go on land but I gotta go in the water to ✨have babies✨

💡!

Learn to use an egg.

“I was already doing that :(“

Use a stronger egg. Put water in the egg.

Have a baby on land.

Water is in the egg. Baby, in the egg, in the water. In the egg.

Works for me.

𝐵𝓎𝑒 𝒷𝓎𝑒 𝑜𝒸𝑒𝒶𝓃

...and now everything’s huge.

Including bugs.

Wanna see a map of the land?

Sure.

☄️

Ah fuck, now everything is dead >:(

Just kidding! Here are the survivors!(Thrinraxodon, lystrosaurus, proterosuchus)

Keep an eye on this one(proterosuchus) cause it’s about to become the dinosaurs 🦖

Here’s another map of the land

Yeah it broke apart don’t worry about it, it does that all the time :)

Here comes a meteor

💥

And the dinosaurs are gone :(

It’s mammal time, here come the mammals :)

Look at those “breasts”

Now they’re gonna dominate the world and one of them just learned to grab stuff-

and walk :0

no like, walk like that(🚶<- 🦍)

And grab stuff at the same time :O

And bang rocks together to make-

Pointed rocks(ouch)

And set things on fire(yeowch)

And make crazy sounds with their voice(gneursk), which can mean different things.

✨That’s a 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃✨

And now they’re everywhere..

Well, almost everywhere.

Ice age!

“What? We can walk over here now? Cool.”

Not anymore.

“Well I guess we’re stuck here now.”

[wdwmarveldisney]

Stars and Superman-Racetrack Higgins

(GIFs isn’t mine)

Modern era

Masterlist

Summary: Reader is dealing with the lost of someone close to them when a boy in a Superman costume comforts them.

A/N: Got this random idea when sitting outside watching the stars and I couldn’t help but write it so yeah.

The blanket didn’t make the ground much comfier but it did stop the grass from tickling the side of your face and the mud getting in your hair. It also stopped the ground from ruining your jacket, that was a navy blue shade. The blanket itself was black and was smooth on one side and fluffy on the other. Right now you ran your fingers across the fluffy side, staring at the stars.

You have this habit of going outside and watching the stars every night. Sometimes you sat on a chair, sometimes you would sit on the fire escape, sometimes you lay on the grass or sometimes you’d bring the blanket out but no matter what, without fail, you’d be out their. It was normally for an hour or two before going to bed. Sometimes in the summer you’d go out just before the sunset so you could read a book for a bit. It didn’t matter where you were, home, your grandparents’ house, a friend’s, you’d always watch the stars.

It started when you were five, you’d sit out there for ten minutes before going to bed because you wanted to remember ‘the pretty lights in the sky tomorrow’, as you used to say. Your mum had always sat out with you, occasionally reading a bedtime story. By the time you were nine, you had several books about space, taking up two whole bookshelves in your room, while also having watched almost every space related documentary possible.

Something about the stars seemed to call to you. Your mum was the only one to not call it a crazy obsession, the only one who would sit outside with you a couple of times and let you point out different constellations and explain them whilst also making space related puns. She’d let you point out the planets that were sometimes visible and let you inform her of the conditions of said planets, even if she’d heard it a dozen times before and knew the words you’d say off by heart.

Right up till last year, she’d be there with you, sometimes making her own jokes and adding stories from when she was little and thought that the stars were little fairies who had flown too far away to be seen clearly. Sadly she didn’t make it to the usual Halloween stargazing, where the two of would meet at the park round the corner. At first you thought she ditched you or forgot but then you’d remembered this was your mum, the woman who never saw you as crazy or obsessive but merely enthusiastic and passionate. She was the women who told you that if the person you end up with hated your love for stars, they wasn’t the right one. She was the woman who listened to you lecture her on the newest fact that NASA had posted or listened to you talk about your dream to see space. She was like an other half.

It wasn’t until a hour or two of you sitting alone when you’re dad had called you, asking why your mother wasn’t picking up her phone. At first, you were confused, telling him she wasn’t there, but he insisted that she had left the house and was on her way to see you. The police were called and she was filed as a missing persons case until she was found in a river, a day later. The police assumed she had accidentally fell in and drowned, they’d found a few belongings quite a while down the river.

You had cried for month after month, an empty feeling you knew would never go away. The night it happened you swore you saw one star shine brighter and had always said that it was her, seeing space like how she said she would. But now it had been a year. A long year of silent and lonely stargazing sessions from the fire escape of your apartment. You had spent the last few months debating about going to the park on Halloween, finally deciding that you would.

You had your jacket under your head as a pillow while you traced shapes into the blanket. It just didn’t feel right. You could hear kids laughing and joking and eating their endless amounts of sweets as usual but she wasn’t there complaining about how loud the neighbours were or how Helen down the street wouldn’t stop gossiping about one thing for two weeks in a row.

Your breathing became just a bit uneven as tears began to well up in your eyes. You’d came to honour her in a sense, to remember her, but as you stared at the lit up sky, that one star shining just as bright as last year, you couldn’t help the feeling that it was the wrong decision.

“Are you’se okay?” The voice was calm and collected (quite the opposite to you at this moment in time) but also sounding concerned. You turned your head to see a boy round your age, looking awkward yet confident. He had blonde curls that were extremely messy and the brightest blue eyes you had seen. You assumed he was on his way to a costume party as he wore a casual sort of suit but the buttons of the shirt were mostly undone so a Superman logo could be seen.

“No,” you’re voice was the complete opposite from his. It was the sound of a broken person who just didn’t know what to do anymore, you could both tell. He hesitantly stepped forward, careful about not getting too close in case you weren’t too fond of strangers comforting you. He was pretty sure most people (practically all) weren’t.

“Can I’se, er, sit?” He pointed to the space next to you and with an overwhelming need for comfort, you nodded. He was a stranger in a Superman costume and yet you didn’t care because you needed somebody with you, anybody. They could never replace her but they could at least give you the confirmation that you’re not alone.

“I’m Race,” he looked slightly uncomfortable before holding out his hand. He was sat next to you, knees pulled up to his chest, arms resting on his knees. You allowed yourself to smile and laugh slightly for a second. “Race?”

“Yeah, Race,”

You reached across, slipping your hand into his and shaking it. “Interesting name you got there,” you compliment with a small smile on your face from the sudden bright one in his. “Yeah, you got one?” Debating for a second or two, fiddling with your hands that now rested in your lap, you nodded. “Yeah I do,”

Race smiled still, though he was obviously slightly confused and curious. “What is it?” He asked and watched as you stared at the sky, changing to now lean back on your hands. With your eyes still fixed on the sky above, darting around to look at almost every spot, you mumble, “Y/N,”

“Well, Y/N, don’t wanna upset ya or anythink but you’se said ya weren’t okay,” he pointed out and you nodded at that, fighting back a sudden rush of tears. “I’m not,” you whisper and he gives you second, his eyes scanning over your features that held obvious sadness and heartbreak.

“Why?” The question slipped from his lips without any thought to it. You tensed at that word, your whole body becoming seemingly numb but also overflowing with emotions at the same time. “It’s, um, this day last year, er, I lost someone,” tears were freely falling down your face, your heart shattering again. You felt a hand rest on top of your one and looked down to see him lacing his fingers with your’s.

How was it possible that he, a stranger, had comforted you more in one move than anybody else had in one year?

“We, my mum, who...” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘died’. Race seemed to understand this as he sent a small reassuring nod in your direction as his eyes scanned your face in worry. “We would, um, come here every, er, every Halloween to stargaze but last,” you cut yourself off with the sob that left your lips.

Two arms wrapped round your shoulders, one rubbing your back in a sign of comfort. He was silent as you cried your heart out onto his old blazer. You couldn’t help that you were begging yourself to stop crying on a stranger’s blazer but it seemed to make you only sob more.

Race didn’t mind that much. You were in a bad place where you had obviously lost someone important to you and you were clearly suffering alone, at least he thought so because you were seeking the comfort of someone you didn’t know. He wasn’t going to leave you sobbing by yourself, he knew what that felt like. No, he was going to sit here next to you and comfort you and show you that someone’s there for you, just like he wanted when he felt like this.

He whispered small, sweet words in your ear as he held you. He listened to the heartbreaking sound of you calm down and say that you were fine only for another wave of tears to hit you and you trying to hold them back. He hated that you kept muttering to yourself saying that you were being pathetic for crying in public and repeating “Shut up,” multiple times.

It took a while of him telling stupid stories and asking random philosophical questions, that were extremely strange, for you to calm down to a point where you could talk properly. Immediately you had started to apologise but he wouldnt have it. Instead Race decisided to ask you a question about yourself after spilling most of his life to you. “You like to stargaze?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes with such force that they only got redder. “I just, they’re beautiful. I know it’s weird but they’re just good at distracting me and they’re so amazing,” you add hesitantly. Many people didn’t unders the feeling you got, that far off world feeling, that you would escape to.

“It’s not weird, I’se get it. What’s your favourite, um,” he trailed off, snapping his finger as he pointed to the sky. He had forgotten the word and slightly gestured to the many bright balls of gas that lit up the sky.

“Constellation?” He nodded in answer, his cheeks going a light pink as you laughed lightly. It only took you two seconds before you pointed to the constellation that was luckily clearly visible from your spot. Race’s gaze followed to where you pointed, letting you explain what the constellation was and why it was your favourite.

He felt a smile stretch across his lips as he watched your once tear filled eyes light up with the kind of joy you got when you’re passionate about something. A small grin was visible on your face as spoke and wildly gestured with your hands as you talked. You didn’t seem so broken anymore but the evident pain was still barely noticeable in your eyes.

You finished talking about the constellation, having gone into several different topics as you did so but always getting back to the original explanation. It was then you remembered what he was wearing and you panicked slightly. “I’m so sorry, you must’ve been going to a party or something and you probably just wanted to go as soon as possible and here I am going on about stars when you don’t even care,” you said in one breath, refusing to meet his eyes.

Race looked down at his costume, finally remembering that he was heading to Jack’s Halloween party. He checked his phone to see numerous miss calls and texts from some of the boys and decided to quickly text to Albert that he probably wasn’t going to show up.

After sending the text, he turned back to you. As crazy as it sounded, he would rather spend the night listening to you talk about space and rambling about these random facts you knew and laughing at your terrible jokes then going and getting drunk at a party.

“I’se just not gonna go,” he told you before a worried expression crossed his face, “Are you’se okay now?” You looked to the sky as he continued to stare at you. Race being there gave you same that same strange escape feeling as the stars and you’d known him for less than two hours.

“Stars and Superman? I’m fine,” you joked, looking back to him and he immediately grinned. It made your heart flutter and skip a beat. You’d always wanted to believe in love at first sight but knew that you’d only find it in fairytales or fanfics and yet, sitting there with him at that moment, you thought, no you knew, you were wrong. If only you knew Race felt the same.

You spent the rest of the night talking, laughing and joking like you’d known each other for years. It was three in the morning before you had both realised how tired you were and had decided to go home. He walked with you back to your apartment and you both exchanged numbers. As soon as he had made your contact name, he showed it to you with a proud sort of smile.

Twinkle

You laughed before showing him the name you had given him.

Superman

[twit-moonstar]

Up for a long time - Brian May x Reader

A/N: This was for a hosted Valentine’s day secret santa but I couldn’t finished it in time bc life. I am really sorry I’m posting this so late

Please consider reblogging and commenting what do you think about the fic

Warnings: none (just a note: this is situated on 1977/1978)

Words: 2K+

Summary: Y/N was invited by Brian May to accompany him during the Sheer Heart Attack tour and as its ending gets closer, she expresses her sadness over having to say him goodbye soon, unless… maybe she doesn’t have to.

 A blissful sigh left Brian’s lips as you cuddle against his side, his long fingers petting your hair lazily. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay here forever, just the two of us? I’m gonna miss this,” you say with melancholy, as if you parting ways was a matter of fact—because, well, it was. What were the chances that he would want to keep seeing you? He was a guitarist in a rising band that was getting more and more famous. You were beginning to feel sad at the thought of missing him even if you were still by his side. It was strange to you how at ease he makes you feel even though you meet barely two months ago. It’s not an everyday occurrence that a cute musician invites you to come along on tour with his band to America but you weren’t stupid enough to miss on this chance. Besides, he had a certain charm that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, like he wasn’t even trying. Just like that, he could smile, and you would do anything he asked. A few minutes passed, in which he didn’t replied, and you started to think about what you had said. Did you cross a line there? Was that inappropriate? But being with him felt so right… and you were sure he felt the same way about you. Well, you were until now. Finally, he spoke. “What if you didn’t have to?” You smiled, feeling relief that he wasn’t weirded out by your comment. “What? What do you mean?” “What if - if we got married?” His words were shaky, his voice soft and quiet in the dim room. You look up at him. “Are you joking? Because, let me you tell you, it’s not funny,” you state. He shakes his head no. “I’m not.“ You get away from him, sitting up on the bed to look at him. It’s hard to describe the look on his eyes, it’s very serious but also a little dreamy, like he has his head on the clouds. And you might be the very reason why. “Really?” You say softly as if you were expecting him to laugh and declare it was indeed a joke but you know him well; he would never be so cruel. Your mother once told you that you must see a man getting happy, tired, sad and, above all, angry and stressed before you got married. She believed that if you saw him in such states, you would know if you were ready to handle sharing your life with him. Despite knowing him for so little time, you had already seen how he acted when he wasn’t feeling well and it never seemed like something that you couldn’t soothe. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, then,” you smiled, “ask me properly.” “Y/N Y/L/N, would to make me the honour of being my wife?” “Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing yourself to him and embracing him on a tight hug. He took your face between his hands and kissed you, smiling when you broke apart. “Well, then, we’re engaged now.”

“When– when do you want to do it, though?” You asked. You wouldn’t lie, you weren’t able to contain your excitement. You were going to get married! It felt like a dream, like you would wake up in any moment in an empty bed on the hotel. “Tomorrow maybe?” Brian suggested. “It’s my day off before we get going to the next city.” “Okay,” you accepted. “While you’re at rehearsal, I’ll make sure we have what we need to do it.” He kissed you again. “Alright but first, let’s get breakfast.”

Standing in front of a little mirror on the reception, you check your lipstick, even though Brian said he wouldn’t pay for any photographs here—both of you were afraid they would be leaked and all over the magazines. Despite all the paparazzi constantly following the band, Brian had done his best effort to protect your privacy as much as he could and you weren’t quite ready to give up your anonymity just yet. Besides, you were aware that a secret wedding with a woman Brian met just three months ago wouldn’t do wonders for his reputation. A pair of hands sneaked up on your waist, hugging you softly. “Are you ready?” He whispered on your ear. You turned around, your arms surrounding his neck. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you assure him and his lips curve up into a smile. A blonde woman came up to you—her name was Marie, according to the tag on her blazer— and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, the venue is ready. Follow me, please,” she said and started walking you guide you. She opened the door and a wedding march started to sound as you entered the room and walked towards the altar, Brian holding your hand the entire time. The Victorian Venue was beautiful, so beautiful you almost regretted eloping—though both Roger and Freddie weren’t at the hotel and Deacy and Veronica were with their kids—. It was a large room, simply decorated with cascading silk drapes and a pair of pillars with candelabras as the wedding altar. It was all very white, and you were glad you had chosen to wear a light blue dress that contrasted with the room. The officiant, a middle aged men, looked as you stand in front of each other. Brian had a smile plastered across his face, reaching his hazel eyes and illuminating his beautiful features. “Brian May and Y/N Y/L/N, today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as husband and wife, blending your lives, expanding your family ties, and embarking upon the grandest adventure of human interaction,” the officiant said. “Brian and Y/N, remember to treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Take responsibility for making the other feel safe and give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. Please, repeat after me–” “Actually, I’d like to have the word,” you interrupt him, shyly, and Brian looks at you with surprise. You hadn’t discussed having your own vows and he clearly didn’t expected it but you had been thinking about them since last night. “Of course.” “I - I know that for anyone outside us this will look rushed after only a few weeks but in that time you have made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve seen you in the most intimate situations and I know I’m ready to spend my life with you. It might not be easy– but nothing every really is and I’m ready to whatever is coming at us.” Brian’s smile and eyes were warm, full of fondness. His hands squeezed yours briefly, a silent ‘I love you.’ “Y/N, meeting you wasn’t on my plans. I’d have never guessed that I’d fall so hard, so fast for you but your sweet ways, your genuine excitement for life and new experiences, your energy and the passion you put on everything you do made me feel like a fifteen years old boy falling in love for the first time. I am enchanted by you, and I’m so happy I get the chance to try to make you as happy as you make me.” You feel your smile getting bigger, so wide it almost hurted but you didn’t cared. It was a nice kind of pain, it meant you couldn’t contain the happiness you were feeling inside you and for a moment you thought about how you wanted to proclaim to the entire world that you were married to the lofe of your life. You squeezed his hands for a second. You both let go of your hands to get the rings. His was one he already had but rarely used and yours was one you had bought on a market on one of your solo adventures exploring the city while he was working. They weren’t permanent rings; “I promise I’ll get you a proper ring once we’re on London again,” he had said, and you assured him you were okay with these as of now. Despite the band’s success, you knew he wasn’t really getting much money and didn’t care he didn’t buy an expensive ring. “Brian May, please repeat after me as you place the ring on Y/N Y/L’s ring. With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love, now and forever.” “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love, now and forever,” he recited softly as he put the ring on you finger. After you repeat it, you both sign the marriage certificate and the officiant finally says the words that linked your lives for the rest of it. “By the authority vested in my by the State of San Francisco, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Brian did as told, reaching down to kiss you softly, taking his time to show you how much he loved you on his gentle movements. “I love you, Mrs. May,,” he said once you broke apart. You giggle. “I love you too, Mr May.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Brian exclaimed, and you hear the closing door. You smile as he enters the room and leaves the box with Chinese food on the little table in front of the couch. You sit properly and take a look at what he brought. “My hero! I was starving,” you say and he smiles. After a week of living on Brian’s apartment using his clothes, you had finally gotten around to your old apartment and got your stuff. It was mostly books, clothes and some decorative ornaments; you didn’t have any furniture except for your bookshelf—and a mattress that you had already sold. Brian was helping you to put everything in place, but you were hungry and send him to get food—your treat. “They didn’t have fried rice, but I brought you Chow Mei,” he says, opening the box for you to see. The smell is delicious, and your stomach seems to rush you to eat when it growls. “That’s fine,” you say and take your noodles. “Do you need help?” Brian chuckles as you struggle with the chopsticks. You pout and nod. He takes his own stick. “The trick is to just move the top stick, the other has to stay still,” Brian shows you as he takes a piece of tofu with ease. You imitate him ans after a few tries, you finally succeed. “It’s way more difficult when you’re eating noodles,” you say before Brian’s amused gaze. “Do you want to try?” He asks, holding a piece of his tofu to you. You lean, doubtful, and take a bite. It tastes spicy and hot, so you swallow it and drink a little soda. “What does it have?” “Lots of pepper,” he replies. “It’s good, but I wouldn’t eat too much,” you say honestly and he smiles as he eats. “It’s an acquired taste, I guess.” “I want to go back to college,” you comment after a while and he smiles at you, interested. “To study Law again?” “No, that’s… that’s what my parents pushed me to do. I’ll like to study something related to Theatre, maybe. I don’t know, but I need to do something. I don’t like just being lying around,” you say softly. The week living with Brian, having no responsibilities was nice but you needed to do something. Besides, you wouldn’t let Brian pay for all the bills. You were a team now, and you needed (and wanted) to do your part. “I was also thinking maybe I could give some piano or bass lessons, to get some money,” “That’s a great idea,” he nods with a smile and you can’t help but smile too. “I can help you with some posters to promote your classes.” “That would be very nice,” you reply, leaning towards him and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Hey, I have a surprise for you!” Brian suddenly says and gets up quickly, walking into the room and coming back after finding whatever he was looking for. He sits next to you and takes your hand, looking briefly at the ring you used to get married before looking at you. “Remember when we stayed at my parents’ house for the weekend?” You smile. “Of course I do. I was nervous as hell the whole drive. And during dinner. Basically all three days.” “Well, you had nothing to worry about because my mother loved you and actually gave me this for you.” He shows you a ring. It was made from gold and had one single tiny round diamond. Your mouth hangs open as Brian takes off your old ring and puts the golden on your finger. “Do you like it?” He sounds anxious as you simply stare at the ring and the way it shines beautifully with the natural light coming from the windows. “It’s beautiful,” you say, moving your hand so the light reflects off the ring. You finally look at him. “Did you say your mother gave you this?” He nods. “I can’t accept this,” you say, starting to take it off but he takes your hands to stop you. “Why not?” “Because it’s real, Bri! This diamond is real and probably worth good money, who knows how much your parents spent on it?” “It was my grandmother’s and she isn’t… she’s dead.” “Oh.” You look at the ring. “Still, why would your mother give me this? She barely knows me.” “Because she liked you and sees why I married you,” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand and caressing your skin with his thumb. “Besides, she saw you didn’t have a ring and said it was unacceptable. This is actually an engagement one but let’s ignore that.” You smile. “Alright, I’m going to keep it as long as you love me.” “Well, get used to it because you’re up for a long time,” Brian says and brings you to his lap to give you a soft kiss.

[neverbacksdown7476]

Don’t Say It (Part 5)

Hey, I’m alive! Not my gif! Sorry this took so long.

Warnings: Angst

Part 4     Part 6

“Y/N!” A voice shouted behind you, “Y/N!” The voice got closer to you so you turned seeing Sonny jogging towards you, holding two cups of coffee. “I need a favor.” He handed you the cup. Fall had set in completely, so the warmth of the cup was appreciated by your bare hands and your fingers that had begun to turn pink.

“Sonny, come on, seriously?” You had learned real fast that when an SVU detective asked for a favor you were going to have to do something or ask someone you really didn’t want to. The detectives also learned that sending Sonny to ask you would get them a lot farther than asking Barba.

“Please, Y/N,  it’s important this is a really bad guy.”

“They are all really bad guys.” Sonny stopped grabbing your arm gently as to stop you too.

“I’ll make you dinner tomorrow night.” He offered you, but you just sighed. Suddenly you had to think of a lie, an excuse why that wouldn’t work. You had been staying with Barba for the last few weeks, and no one could know, not even Sonny.

“Sorry I can’t do dinner, but I’ll take a rain check.”

“You have been acting strange here lately, should I be worried about you?”

“Of course not, Barba has just been pushing me pretty hard lately. I guess sometime soon they are wanting me to work on my own, so I have to know what I’m doing. Sooner than later.” You sighed, that wasn’t necessarily a lie, but not true either. Yes they wanted you on your own soon, but you were pretty sure it wouldn’t be until you had worked with Barba for a year. “Besides that, these crazy detectives keep bringing us cases that involve a lot of leg work, which brings me back to; what do you want Sonny?”

“I need a warrant.”

“I assumed.”

“This guys name is Kevin Preller,”

“Okay,” you handed off the coffee, you had only barely sipped on, back to Sonny. Pulling out your phone, you started typing his name into the notes.

“We need a warrant for his home computers, looking for child pornography, and for the rest of his apartment, looking for souvenirs that we think the perp took from these girls.”

“What do you think he has.”

“A heart necklace, a scrunchie, and a little pink purse.”

“Age of the girls?”

“Nine, and ten years old.”

“And how do you know this is the guy?”

“Well we think he has been hanging around the park that all three of them went to.”

“Wow, you think? I can’t ask Barba for a warrant on ‘think.’”

“Y/N, can you at least try?” He handed you the coffee back, as you put your phone away. His hand landed on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. He had a half cocked grin on his face, and eyes that matched a puppy, or maybe a kitten. You couldn’t quite put your finger on which kind of sad it was. Letting out a loud huff to let him know you were not happy about the situation.

“I will try, but no promises.”

“I owe you.”

“There is a bar down the street, a lot of pool tables, and cheap beer.”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up after work.” Sonny said, as he turned to run off to head back to work. So you did the same, walking into the building, sighing as you rushed to find Barba who was working diligently on a huge stack of paperwork.

“I know we decided to always get to work at different times, but even so you are running a little late.”

“I ran into Sonny on the way here.”

“What does he want this time?” He asked setting his pen down, and giving you all of his attention.

“A warrant.” You told him everything Sonny had given you, and could see the hesitation on his face.

“It won’t be easy. No judge is going to want to sign that based on that information.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’ll ask for it today, but this is the last time I go begging for a favor, just because Detective Carisi asks you,”

“Thank you?” You said, almost asking because you felt offended by that statement. As if you had stepped out of line, or offended him in some way. This was your job though, his job too. When the detectives needed something, it was your job to try to get it for them. So why was he acting so weird? You decided to just ignore it, and move on. You started drawing up the paperwork for the warrant. If there was one thing you knew better than anything by now it was paperwork. You picked up almost all of it since you got there, especially the stuff that Barba didn’t want to do.

Things were getting dull around the office, and honestly you were ready to start doing your own work as a lawyer. The paperwork sucked, and you wanted to sit in the first chair, and you wanted to argue with scumbag lawyers in judge’s chambers. Those were things that you only got to observe Barba doing, and observing Barba was your biggest issue. During the day you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, how he would strut around the courtroom with cockiness, pride, and confidence. The way he would sit at his desk, sleeves rolled up, hunched over, and the mischievous grin that would occasionally cross his lips.

After work was even worse though. His jacket thrown over the lounge chair in the living room. They way he slumped on the couch, eyes focused on either the television or whatever book he was reading, only a few feet from you. Within arms length of you, yet so far away.

-----

Lining up your shot, you pulled the pool cue back then thrusting it towards the ball. You watched it smack into another ball which just barely missed the corner pocket. You groaned as you pushed yourself off the table, and looked over at Sonny.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” He asked leaning against the pool table.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s the fifth shot you missed,”

“I don’t see why that’s so weird.” You said lifting your beer to your lips

“In all the years I’ve known you I have never been able to beat you.”

“Maybe I’m just having an off night.” You retorted

“Nah, come on spill it.”

“There is nothing.”

“Is there talk of a promotion?” Sonny asked

“No, have you heard anything?”

“Something going on with your brothers?” He continued to grill you

“Haven’t talked to Mark, or Brian in two weeks, and Gabriel is enjoying his second honeymoon in Jamaica. Rich bastard, I wish I could go on vacation.” You joked, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Well I haven’t heard anything from my folks about your folks. So the only other thing I can think of is a guy.” You lifted your beer to your lips again, and started drinking until it was gone. “That’s it; there is a guy!”

“No, when would I have time to date?” You grabbed the pitcher of beer refilling your cup.

“Okay, so maybe you aren’t dating anyone. You have a crush on someone.”

“I liked you much better before you became a detective.”

“I bet you did, so who is it?”

“No one. Come on Sonny, just drop it.”

“If it was someone I didn’t know you would have just told me.”

“Sonny, enough with the interrogation.” You sighed

“Alright, alright, I will leave it alone, for now.”

“Mhm.” You brushed him off, but saw that look in his eyes. He wouldn’t let it go for long, but you were probably safe for the night.

-----

You tried to unlock the door quietly, and sneak into the apartment which was pointless since the lights were still on. Cocking your head to the side, you looked at an irritated Barba hunched over a stack of papers sitting on the coffee table. That wasn’t the unusual part, the half empty bottle of scotch on the table, and a glass in his hand, was. Suddenly, you felt an awful lot like a high school kid getting caught sneaking in after curfew.

“You’re still up?” You mumbled, in the form of a question.

“Yeah, I was catching up on some paperwork.”

“Paperwork? I’m pretty sure I have most of it finished.”

“Most, that was the key word.”

“I could have finished it tomorrow.”

“Probably.” He said as he lifted his glass of scotch, taking a big drink of it. You began to wonder who had drank more tonight, you or him. “Where were you tonight?” He finally lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“I was out, with friends.” You told him

“With Carisi?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” He chuckled finishing off his glass. That’s when it dawned on you, the anger, the worrying, all the questions about Sonny, it was starting to make sense. You watched him pour another glass of scotch. As he lifted it to his lips you made your way to the couch, where you sat next to him. When he set the half empty glass of scotch on the table, you picked it up with an almost smug grin. “You are jealous.” You stated, finishing off the scotch he had left. His eyes stayed focused on the paperwork ahead of him. Silence fell over the two of you, because you didn’t know what else to say.

“Even if I was, there would be nothing I could do about it.” Barba finally broke the silence, not moving his head, but looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “As of right now I am your boss.”

“You kissed me before, that wasn’t a problem.”

“No one knew about that.” Finally turning his head to make full eye contact with you. There was a sort of lust behind his eyes that you were drowning in, a look you were sure you had as well.

“No one knows we are living together either.” You said moving slightly closer to him, as he leaned closer to you. “No one has to know if you say you are jealous either.”

“I’m not jealous of Carisi, just so we are clear.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m jealous of all the time the two of you get to spend together outside of work, so casually.” He said as he continued to lean in closer to you.

“All you have to do is ask.” You mumbled, a smirk ran across his lips before they crashed against yours, his hands tangled in your hair pulling you closer. You savored every moment of the kiss. His soft lips, the taste of scotch, and the passion behind it. The kiss ended so quickly, as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Yeah? And no one has to know?” He asked

“No one.” With those final words his lips pressed gently against yours again.

Tag list:

@scarletsoldierrr

[peachximagines]

Princess Five 3

Billy Hargrove x poc!reader

Word count: 1.8k

I watched Steve’s car to pull into the driveway. I had begged Hopper to call him over under the guise of showing my new wardrobe. I knew Steve was mad at me but I needed his help. I need him to explain so many things. I listen to the casualties downstairs before Steve ascends the narrow staircase to my room. I open the door without moving from the spot on my bed.

“Hey Five,” he closes the creaky door behind him. “I’m really sorry about last night, I was just real worried-” I shush him. He stops abruptly, raising an eyebrow at me. “Okay little shit, screw my apology then.” He smiles, perching next to me.

“I have questions.” I say, watching him process the words in his head. Steve’s face contorts from relaxed to confused very quickly.

“About?”

“When you were with Nancy did you ever feel really hot? Like did your stomach bubble like fucking magma?” He blushes, realizing something that I can’t even grasp.

“Yeah, yeah sometimes Fee. Why do you ask?” his voice was cautious.

“I get that feeling. I feel hot and shaky and I don’t know why and my crotch feels weird and-”

“Shut the hell up.” He blocks his ears. I raised an eyebrow. Why was this a weird discussion? I just wanted to know why my biology was screwing me over. And he blocked his ears as if my thoughts were being turned into soundwaves his brain could process. They’re already in him.

“You’re just like,” he sighs. “You’re horny.” He covers his face with one of my pillows.

“Horny? My appearance hasn’t changed much?”

“Five, do you know where babies come from?” Steve sits upright again, facing me. His cheeks were crimson.

“I know the process of procreation, I’m not that naive.” I roll my eyes, kicking him gently.

“Well, this feeling your getting is because you want to do the act of procreation, but without the kid part.” My eyes widen at the realization and it’s my turn to be embarrassed.

“People do that for pleasure purposes?” This was news to me. I wanted to have sex with Hargrove? Why was I never taught this in the lab? It’s a biological function that my body has the hormones for. I guess I never thought I would be the one to be procreating. Maybe the lab didn’t think I would even reach this age.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it. You can do it yourself.” He murmurs the last part. “It’s called masturbation, Five. God, why can’t your dad have this conversation with you?”

“Because Hopper can’t know I get aroused! He can’t know that I think about people in this way.” I bury my face in the pillow Steve had discarded. Oh God.

“This is golden,” Steve laughs, falling next to me on the bed. His laughter shook the bed. His inhales were contagious and I couldn’t help but laugh a little too.

“I don’t even know how to masturbate.” My thoughts sound dejected. Steve laughs even harder. He grips his stomach, curling into a ball.

“You sound so damn sad, so goddamn sad.” He squeezes the words out between gasps of air. I laugh into the pillow, gripping it tightly. “You’ll figure it out.”

The chilled air permeates through my layers. Hopper was sound asleep in bed by the time I left. I had Hargrove’s jacket around me as I trekked to the parked car. Hargrove was lazily smoking a cigarette against the hood of his car.

“Hi princess,” he stomps the cigarette out. “I like the jacket, where’d you get it?” His voice held inclinations of humor. I smile at him, giggling softly. He opens the passenger door for me and I sink into the seat. I watch him swagger over to the driver side. Hargove slips in and locks the door. He looks at me, really drinking in the sight of me. I tried with my appearance today. The thick coils of my hair were pulled into an afro puff at the base of my head. I laid my baby hairs like I saw other urban women doing in the magazines. Hargrove cups my jaw softly, tilting my head towards him. He looks in my eyes, leaning in. His eyes flicker down to my lips and back to my face.

“May I kiss you, Five?” the question filled my body with the new feeling of arousal. I hummed an affirmative and let my eyes slip shut. His soft lips press against mine. It’s not a passionate kiss like in the movies with reunited lovers. The position felt awkward and I’ve never done this before. I felt like I was completely thrown in the pool without warning. But the kiss was gentle and slow. His lips barely moved, but he gently coaxed me deeper into him. Lust and arousal bloom deep in my stomach and I let out a breathy noise. Hargove pressed deeper into the kiss, his lips moving a little more. He pulls away for a beat.

“Come sit on my lap, princess.” The command sounded more like a gentle suggestion and I found myself crawling over the low divider to sit on his lap. Hargrove smiled at me, his eyes soft but hungry. “So beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” He pulled me back to him for a deeper kiss. The fire that bloomed in my continued to burn and rage. I felt like my movements were awkward but he gently led me through the motions. Not forceful, but gently and carefully. I took a risk. I pulled away from him. His lips were kissed red and he was breathless just like I. I lean forward, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin in his chest. I wanted to kiss him everywhere that I could reach. I could feel his pounding heart against my lips as I traveled the expanse of his chest. Hargrove’s breaths picked up. He whispers my name like a prayer and I wanted to be his goddess. I wanted him to worship me the way I was worshipping him. I wanted him to feel like this only with me and I need him to only say my name with such need and desperation. This must’ve been what he meant when he said he wanted me to be only naughty for him. I lean back up, pressing our lips back together, the need for him growing by the minute.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight princess,” he whispers against my lips, “just having you like this, is enough.” he kisses me again.

“Having you so needy in my lap is enough. I bet you’ve never been like this with anyone, have you?” I shake my head no. “Good. I wanna be the only one who gets you like this. To only be this needy for me.” I press my lips against his again, moaning softly. I want the same.I push the thought to him, begging for him to understand.

“I bet you wanna be my only girl,” he whispers, kissing my jaw down to my neck. “You wanna be the only one squirming and grinding so dirty in my lap?” I whimper again, shaking. Yes, yes please. I hadn’t even noticed that our hips had picked up our own languid rhythm. “I’m gonna think about you when I’m in the shower. I gonna think about your sexy body on mine so desperate for me when I jack off, princess.” That was the masturbation Steve was talking about. He wanted to think of me that way? Good. I whine against his lips, pressing my hips harder against his. Hargrove’s hands travelled underneath the layers, pressing cold fingers against my hot skin. His fingers dug into my skin, massaging deep. I want to feel like this forever.

“You sound so pretty, princess.” He bites the skin on my neck gently, causing a gasp to be ripped from my lungs. I lean my head back, giving him more access to me. His mouth works, nipping and biting the spot until it was raw and tender. I want to whisper his name, I want to force myself to speak but not even in this blissful crazy moment I could bring myself to utter it gently. I want to whisper his name like he whispered mine as I kissed his addicting skin, letting him know that he was my god. Our actions were my new religion and I’d pray to him like he prayed to me. Hargrove’s thin lips retract from my skin, his tongue brushing over it gently.

“A nice little mark for you princess. So everyone knows that you’re mine now,” Hargrove seems satisfied. A mark? That’s evidence. Evidence of me running from the house in secret. Evidence of my misbehavior. Evidence that will build Hopper’s case and back to the cabin. Hargrove must notice my mild panic. “It’s okay princess. Cover it with makeup from your daddy.” He teases. “But when you’re out, when you’re away from him, I want you to show it off. Everyone needs to know.” I nod. “I think it’s time to drop you off.” I move from his warm lap and back to tge cold seat. I wrap the jacket tight around my shoulders, willing the cold to leave my body.

“I had fun, princess. We should do this more often,” Hargrove looks over his shoulders as he pulls out of the woods and onto an equally dead road. I nod, wanting to put my hand on his. He grips the gear stick with a grip of death. I hesitantly place a hand on it as well. Hargrove peeks over at me.

“If you wanna hold my hand all you have to do is ask,” He pauses. “Well you can’t really can you?” I shy away, pulling my hand back to me like I was burnt. Hargrove reaches out, grabbing the hand back and kisses the knuckles. He places our clasped hands on his thigh where they remain for the rest of the ride.

We turn onto my street. I point to my house and Hargrove cuts the headlights. I don’t want to pull my hand from the warm grasp. He kisses my knuckles again before he kisses me.

“Bye princess,” I wave before sneaking to the back of the house. I wait for him to leave the street before unlocking the door slowly. The door barely creaks as I push open the door. I look around to make sure the kitchen was empty and quiet. There was no sound. I close the door as slowly as I opened it and snuck up the stairs towards my room. I press my ear to Hopper’s door. Loud snores resonate through the room. I go into my room, securing my door. Safe. Fucking safe.

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 16: Hear No Evil

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: You hear something you’re not supposed to hear.

Editor: @wonderifshelikesroses

The fifth day of school without Rowena there, looking like she owned the place, was just as weird as the first.

Not that you were missing her or anything.

Well, not that much.

You were merely missing her presence. That was all.

Mosquitoes were annoying, but a summer without them wouldn't feel like summer. Not completely. Life would go on as normal. The air would be stale with humidity. Sun would burn eyes and skin, merciless, unforgiving. Sweat would glue drenched clothes to bodies. But something would still be missing. Something would still be wrong.

Mosquitoes belonged in summer.

Birds belonged in the sky.

Spiders belonged in abandoned, dusty attics.

And Rowena Macleod belonged in school.

Saturday couldn't come fast enough. Just one more day. A little over twenty four hours, and you would see her again, in the flesh, hopefully with a touch more color in her face.

It wasn't anticipation. Not at all. You weren't excited to see her. Rather, you were concerned. You wanted to see if she was okay. For health reasons.

If you repeated it enough times, maybe you would believe it. But the way things were going, you were a lost cause.

Yes, you missed her, you told yourself. And yes, you couldn't wait to see her again. So what? She was your friend. It was only natural you worried for her wellbeing.

That was right.

She was your friend. Just your friend. Nothing more. What you felt for her was friendly.

That you weren't willing to compromise on with yourself.

It was friendly because you said so. Because it couldn't — it just couldn't, not with the way things were — be anything more.

The end.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. A message lit up your screen.

Miss me?

Rowena.

As if she'd read your mind.

You blushed, hurrying to reply.

Never.

Every single day, you thought. To hell with denial. You missed her. Truly, genuinely missed her every day of this week.

Her response came within seconds.

:(

An unwilling smile broke out on your mouth. The emoji dripped with drama. You could imagine her pouting exaggeratedly and crossing her arms over her chest like an angry child.

You big baby. :P

She sent an emoji again, this time one of a hand holding up a middle finger.

You snorted, replying,

Classy.

You started it.

Fair enough.

What are you doing up so early?

From what Crowley told you, she loved to sleep in when she didn't have school to wake up for. Beauty sleep, she called it, because of course she would.

Couldn't sleep. :(

You imagined another pout, this one sad. An ache pulled at your heart, sympathy spilling over you.

You said,

Flu's a bitch.

She begged to differ.

Flu's a cunt.

Laughter exploded from your mouth. A few kids walking beside you in the hallway looked at you like you were crazy.

To be fair, you kind of were.

Sometimes I forget you're Scottish, and then you say shit like this.

Happy to remind you, dear. :)

Now she was definitely smirking. You were willing to bet on it.

Gotta go. Talk to you later.

Rude. :(

As much as you enjoyed your chat, the five-minute break wouldn't get any longer and the bell sure as hell wouldn't wait for you to empty your bladder before ringing. Pocketing your phone, you rushed into the nearest bathroom. It was empty, most students presumably having done their business before exchanging messages with their sick sort-of-friend.

You hurried to do yours, and just before you flushed the toilet, feet sounded outside, a soft, careful patter. A stall door creaked open, then closed; halfway, you presumed, for lack of a latch sliding into place.

"So public," a voice said, hushed but clear. "Naughty girl."

"It's not like anyone will see," another voice replied nonchalantly.

"Someone could."

"Let them try. I'll run the loser to the ground."

Whistling. "So bad."

"You like 'em bad."

"Don't you know it."

A giggle, then a puckering, a melody of flesh meeting flesh, that was undoubtedly a kiss. A long, passionate one you could picture vividly in your head.

You wished you couldn't.

Good god, you wished you couldn't.

Your stomach churned, disgust roiling and twirling. Your heart sped up as if in a race as cold shivers of unease pricked at the back of your neck like thousands of needles burrowed underneath your skin.

Maybe you were wrong, you thought. Maybe it wasn't them.

But, just as you were beginning to second guess your intuition, the couple spoke once again in-between what seemed to be a hot and heavy makeout session.

There was no longer room for doubt.

It was them.

Lucifer and Olivette.

The monkey and the wicked witch.

They were making out. In the bathroom. With each other.

Sneaking behind Rowena's back.

Your teeth clenched, anger flashing. How could they do this to her? How could they betray her like this?

As much as you hated that part of Rowena's life, you knew how much it meant to her. You couldn't understand it — didn't want to understand it — but she cared about them both. She cherished them. Respected them. Cheered them on even when they didn't deserve it.

She put up with Olivette's pettiness and Lucifer's assholery, and for what?

For them to do this?

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

She was sick. That was, you realized, swallowing a lump in your throat, what bothered you the most about all this. Rowena was sick, stuck to her bed, pale as a corpse. She was helpless, and they took advantage. Twisted the situation to their benefit.

Had they even gone to visit her?

Had they, at the very least, sent messages wishing her a swift recovery?

You had. You'd sent dozens. You chatted with her every opportunity you had. Made sure to respond to every single message.

As friends did.

Was that why she wanted to chat so much? Because her actual friends had forgotten about her, too caught up in themselves, in each other?

Were you officially her friend now?

Was she yours?

Why did your heart flutter like that at the thought?

"You heard from her?" Olivette asked.

"Sent her some 'I missed you' crap this morning," Lucifer said.

She snorted. "Same, last night. God, she's so needy."

"Tell me about it. All she talks about is how sick she is. Like, I get it, you're sick. You'll get better in two days. Just shut up."

"She's always whining. Always."

Rowena.

They were talking about Rowena.

"Y'know, if she wasn't such a great lay, I would've ended it ages ago."

"Classy, Lucifer."

"I'm serious."

A few moments passed in silence, then Olivette said, "I get you. She's such a brat."

"She is. Now you — you're a woman."

"Oh, am I?"

"Mmhmm. Way less annoying. Quite… entertaining."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"I can be bad."

"I know you can."

They smacked their lips in another nauseating kiss. As if on cue, the bell rang, echoing in the empty room.

You flushed the toilet, swung the door open, washed your hands, and hurried back to class.

You couldn't listen anymore. Couldn't bear to hear more moans and nasty words.

Rowena deserved better. A better friend. A better boyfriend. Someone who would like her for who she was. Who wouldn't call her names and ridicule her behind her back. Who wouldn't cheat on her when she was sick.

Someone who wouldn't let her down.

Someone… like you.

*****

"Could I ask you guys a question?" you said amidst Dean's hundredth retelling of meeting a sexy waitress he'd had a one night stand with a few days ago.

She took his order, had a cute smile, was attracted to him, and they had sex after her shift ended.

There.

How many retellings did such a simple story need?

Everyone seemed glad at the interruption. Dean just shrugged as if he wasn't bothered, though it was obvious he was.

Oh, well.

His feelings were his business.

"Please, entertain us," Crowley said, side-eyeing Dean, who in turn flipped him the bird. Crowley responded with a teasing wink.

Those two honestly needed to get a room.

You cleared your throat. Willed up all your courage. "Say the person you were dating was cheating on you and your friend saw them. Would you wanna be told?"

Everyone looked at you as if you'd suddenly grown a second head.

Meg glanced back and forth from you to Castiel, brows furrowing in suspicion. Castiel, in turn, frowned at the sudden awkwardness. Clueless as usual. It would be sad if it wasn't endearing.

"I'm reading a book," you said quickly, spewing out the first thing that came to mind. Boring, simple, but convincing enough.

Heads bobbed in nods and a few ohs slipped from lips. The tension dissipated as if it had never been there, replaced by nonchalance, by sheer indifference. As if bringing your fiction into hangouts was something you did every day.

You wished.

Your group's tastes were so different you actively avoided bringing things you were into up. There were only so many blank stares and pretend nods you could take.

"Fuck, yeah, I'd wanna be told," Meg said, grabbing onto Castiel's hand. Tightly. Possessively. "You cheat on me and…" She made a cutting motion over her throat with her free hand, then settled her stare, as intense as her words, on you. "A real friend would tell me. A real friend would hold the bastard while I gutted him."

You gulped.

Holy fuck!

Meg could be intimidating when she wanted. And when she didn't. One of her many talents.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. Blinked. Looked around in confusion like a week-old puppy.

Meg gave him a sweet smile. "You wouldn't cheat on me, would you, Clarence?"

"I'd never cheat on you," he said, baffled as to how it was even a question. He turned to you. "If Meg cheated on me, I would very much appreciate you tell me." He furrowed his brows. "Though I don't know why she would. I think I satisfy her."

"I bet she's plenty satisfied," Crowley quipped dryly.

Meg flipped him off, earning her a smirk.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Clarence always—"

"Okay, Meg, we get it," Sam said. Before she could protest the interruption, he said, "If my girlfriend was cheating on me, I'd definitely wanna know. Yeah, it would suck, but it's better to know than not."

"Agreed," Dean said. "Friends are family. If they don't tell me, who will?"

Your heart warmed at his words.

Yes. Friends were family. A chosen one, filled with people you wanted there, people you'd picked to love out of millions of others.

If you didn't tell Rowena, who would?

Her other friends didn't look out for her. They didn't give a damn about her. Not a single one of them.

You did.

Despite everything she'd done, despite the life she'd chosen to lead, you cared about her. You saw the side of her that no one else did; the sweet, gentle one, the one capable of kindness. The one she hid from her own family.

She trusted you with her most vulnerable parts. Something not even your other friends did. The realization made your blood warm up in your veins. Heat burned at your cheeks.

You cared about her. So damn much that your heart felt like it was ripped apart at the thought of what Lucifer and Olivette's betrayal would do to her.

She deserved so much more than she was getting.

A better friend.

A better lover.

You.

She deserved you.

And, god, you wanted her. All for yourself, far away from her friends' clutches, from your friends' disapproving glares.

You could give her so much. You were neither rich nor popular, but you cared about her. Your feelings for her were genuine, honest. You couldn't give her power, but you could give her friendship.

You could give her love.

The friendly kind.

And maybe some even stronger than that.

What it was, you didn't know — you didn't want to know, didn't want to admit it just yet for it was too soon and things were too complicated — but it was hers. All hers.

All she had to do was want it.

"Fuck that," Crowley said, shaking you from your thoughts. "This is high school. I'm looking for hookups, not a commitment. I say, whatever happens when I'm not looking, never happened. I don't want to know. Hell, I'm probably out there doing the same bloody thing. There's plenty of fish in the sea. If you don't try out different kinds, what's the point?"

Of course he said that. Of fucking course.

Fergus MacLeod, ever the rebel.

"That's a… unique perspective," Sam said.

Crowley shrugged, nonchalant. "Just telling it as it is."

Fair.

You couldn't comprehend it, but he had a right to his preference. He was an adventurer. An explorer. Bear Grylls of the dating scene. He lived for the moment. Tried out different things, different people, enjoyed life as it went on. Lived his life the way he wanted, by his own unwritten rules. A hedonist by nature.

Rowena was different.

She was committed.

And had been betrayed.

And, as her friend, it was your duty to tell her.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home

CHAPTER 2

Catch up on Chapter 1

(many hugs, and thank you's to @miidailyinspiration for the help on my face claim for Amelia. You’ve helped put my indecisive mind to rest, love!)

Casual, but not sloppy. Sophisticated, but not stuffy. This was no ordinary to-do, and you weren’t about to make light of the situation at hand.

To add to stresses of attire, your mother had found the whole thing to be so “cute,” and some twisted little cell of her excitement thought it a necessity to call his mother and cackle about the nostalgia of it all.

By some circumstances you were unsure of, your cell number had somehow fallen into his lap, and the day you were supposed to head towards to outskirts of the Boston tree line, he had texted you details.

C: Picking up a bottle of wine for tonight. Preference? You name it.

Y/N: How about a red?

C: Anything for the guest of honor. See you around 8!

Attached to his last reply, was a syrup sweet selfie that made you want to punch someone just to kill off some of the nauseating lovability, of he and the famous pup you’d seen often on his socials.

You didn’t know where to begin with preparation, nor exactly what to prepare for, and the day passed on like the speed of a changing season so your mental torture could lag on. A quick color and blow-out at the salon was never a wrong turn, and a trip to the mall couldn’t hurt matters.

Silencing your phone, and securing the doors of your car with two deeps, your knees wobbled like a feeble fawn towards the front steps. It was extravagant, but not in an “I’m better than you” type of way, and it’s woodsy endearment was the coziness your nerves needed.

Taking the steps one by one, hearing a dogs roaring bark behind the solid oak of his front door, a thought was conceived.

Was this… a booty call? Do people even know what that is anymore? Had you been invited to the quiet forest around his home, to glug too much wine, stroll down memory lane, and wind up on your back?

The more troubling conclusion, being you weren’t sure the idea sounded half bad….

There’d have to be some self-respect. Your shambling life left no room for any more error, and you wouldn’t fall into such handsome traps that easily.

Using the pane of glass that lined the entry as a reflection check, the door was pulled open, letting the interior nose of music and galloping steps of Dodger loose.

You cursed mentally when you stuck your hand inside the lining of your light jacket to feel the mint still wrapped that you had forgotten to chew on the drive over.

The handsome pups’ leash was held onto by an even more handsome man, and both of them seem quite eager to greet you. However, one more interested in sniffing around your shoes and backside.

“Woah, Dodge! Let’s mind our manners, boy.” His owner laughed with squinted eyes.

He met you with an unexpected, one arm embrace. His fingers snuck under the hem of your breezy springtime cardigan, and rested sprawled across the silk camisole covering the small of your back. Your cheeks brushed together at the ensuing of his gentle, platonic kiss to your face, and his beard felt softer than you would’ve imagined.

“Glad you could sneak away to hang out.”

“Thanks for the invitation. This place is stunning.” You barely recognized your own voice as it’s tone stuttered and dropped into some weird, sad excuse for seductive key.

Jealous at how effortlessly he could barely graze your skin and have you wanting to shout his name in an explicit context, you rustled your hair to swing its vanilla scented sweetness toward him, trying your own much more forced hand at seduction.

With smiling eyes, he gestured you through the front door, leading the way into the foyer. The simple brightness of its monochromatic scheme added an appealing cleanliness and homey feel. A grand piano was nestled near the fireplace, and a candle of spicy sweetness flickered on the white mantle as you heard Dodgers leash clang against a metal coat rack.

“Do you still play?” You asked running a finger over the glossy top of the black instrument positioned on a patterned rug.

His skinned turned red behind the protection of his grizzly beard, and he squeezed his palm to the back of his neck. The loose cotton of his shirt teased up his belly, gifting you with the sight of a meaty, perfectly exercised torso. Your eyes dilated with zealous desire at the way a trail of light hair trailed beneath the band of his relaxed blue jeans.

“I do, yeah. Badly, but I do. I don’t get as much practice as I’d like. Get me drunk enough & maybe I’ll play you something.”

Still the same old guy. The tortured musician with a home on the stage, and a healthy liking to beer.

“Speaking of, I’m heading to the kitchen for a drink. Glass of wine?” He walked in reverse down the hall, offering you up a beverage.

“Sounds perfect. It better not be the cheap shit either, Evans. I know how you operate.” You bit your tongue at the bold banter of your sarcasm. But, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know your true colors. He’d known you since school age, and if he was willing to still speak to your after your raging ugly-duckling stages of junior high, surely he could handle a witty tongue.

When he disappeared behind the wall of the kitchen and glasses clinked, and the cabinets slammed, you helped yourself to sight seeing around the empty den. Photos of he and castmates, his nephews and nieces school portraits, and some exquisite artwork decorated the walls, alongside the glorious steel shield you’d seen on the big screen. The life of riches, and fame hadn’t rotted through to who he really was yet it seemed, and you admired the simplicity of his private life.

“I’ll let you touch it for the right price,” he snuck in undetected from the left, long-stem swirling in one hand, and an already half-empty beer bottle in the other.

You eagerly grasped at the wine he had poured for you, desperately pining for something to center your weak knees from his closeness. Grazing across his full fingertips, your hormones began to dance.

“Excuse you?” For a brief moment, unsure of what exactly his cheeky comment suggested, you coughed in shock.

“The shield, Amelia. Don’t make me out to be an asshole here, kid.” Chris rolled his eyes with a faux grin, struggling to hide the slightest bit of insult from your insinuations.

Wait, kid? No, no, no. For one, 29, divorced, and your own insurance plan hardly classified you in the kid category. And the boobs. C’mon, Evans. Didn’t you see the boobs?

“However, I think the term kid need no longer apply…”

Did he hear your thoughts? Could he read minds now? He’s Captain America. Of course he could. Your thoughts heckled you.

Abruptly set on actual fire at the way his eyes painted over you like daggers memorizing your every curve, you choked up a dousing gulp of wine, and it dribbled down your rounded chin. He caught the beads of dark Merlot pooling at the corner of your lips with his thumb, then quite accidentally erotically, sucked the liquid from his finger with a pop of his half-smiling lips.

“Still as elegant as ever, I see.” Chris winked, and pulled an open-mouth sip of his sweating bottle of ale.

Bury your head in a hole full of poisonous scorpions, or plunge from a plane with no parachute? Both scenarios seemed like a fitting death for the embarrassment boiling throughout your pulsing veins.

“I resent that. I didn’t even trip up a single stair on the way in, thank you very much, sir.” Your hair toppled over your shoulder with your sassy, matter-of-fact head bob. The loose strand falling airily into your face.

“You’re so right. Seems little Mil is all grown up and coordinated now.” He reached for the lock of your hair in an instant, like he couldn’t resist its’ touch, and twirled it around his pointer finger only once, or twice before pushing it from your eyes.

The room went silent then, and spun with the drunken tension of unexplained passion. You wondered if this whole façade was some sort of sick way for his ego to get off, or had word gotten around to him about your less than happy fortune, and he pitied you, and old friend, in some way? Sure, you could put an outfit together in less then 5 minutes like nobody’s business, and you weren’t exactly a bore to be around. But you were such a… a simpleton compared to him in every sense. Often stringy, dull blonde hair no matter what “shine shampoo” you paid for. Your legs not even half the length of an average sized woman, and you were barely tall enough to reach the pedals of a car. A tiny, blonde, plain-faced woman with the occasional humorous comeback. Nowhere near the realm of anything he deserved.

He never broke his laser, blue-eyed stare with yours when he stretched blindly the empty his hand of the bottle, placing it to rest on top of the piano behind you. They color looping around his pupils was like your own lustful swimming pool where you wanted to float wearing nothing but a smile. The rounded point of your chest touched his when he leaned past you, and you prayed the thin lace of your unlined bra was just enough to hide the gentle bud of your breast. You were sure the news of the split with your husband was indeed knowledge to him, because he wasn’t the type to ever sink to the level of pursing a taken woman.

But, was this that? Was the closeness of his body, and his ruthless, studying stares his idea of pursuit? Or was your needy, wishful thinking playing tricks on you?

“I see the tan line on your finger, but the ring is missing?” You couldn’t make sense of his words as a question, or a statement.

“I’m sure you’ve heard more than I would have liked for you to, Chris…”

He gently squeezed at your teeny bicep, his head ghosting a nod just before you dropped to shamefully examine your feet.

“I did hear some stuff. But, it came directly from your moms mouth. Well, straight from your moms mouth, then my moms who she told.” He smiled to alleviate your stresses. “But, if you wanna talk, I’ll listen, Amelia.”

You wanted to. Oh, how curiously bad you wanted to. Something in the velvet ease of his voice willed you cry, and confess, and vent your broken hearts every desperate pain, and you had no idea why. He was a familiar face, but one from the past. You’d lived an entire life since the two of you had last seen the other, and yet something around his eyes hypnotized you to confide there like a terrified stow-away, running from the harshness your reality.

Just as your lips parted, and you’d carefully allowed only one tear to totter on the edge of your eyelid, the yelps of an observant dog startled you both. Dodger stood on his hind legs, peeping and panting as he stared out the open curtain of a bay window.

“Shit Dodger. Calm down boy, it’s fine.” Chris dropped his hold on you to settle the curious animal. “Everyone else is here. Late as usual.” He remarked.

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, some of the guys are coming to watch the game tonight. You’ll remember most of them. Their wives, too! When I saw you the other day, I knew I had to invite you out to visit with everybody since you’re back here now. Thought it would be cool for everyone to catch up, ya’ know?” The man casually explained as he strolled towards the entryway.

Stupid you. Always stupid, stupid you. Of course, this wasn’t a date. He didn’t want to date you. Not now, not ever. You fluffed your mess of curls, and paid for yet another outfit you didn’t need simply for nothing. But, the outfit was charged to a credit card in your wallet still under the name of your oh, so generous, soon-to-be ex-husband, who you were sure wouldn’t mind. So, that part wasn’t exactly a problem.

The signs had been all there though, right? The wine he’d asked you about. The sinful way he whispered and teased into your ear? It definitely seemed flirtatious in the most welcomed of manner. Or, maybe you just desperately wanted it to feel that way. Did your ego subconsciously create the boost it needed?

“Mills? Hey, you in there? Amelia?” He pleaded you from your daydreaming state as you swayed on your feet due to the thoughtful coma you were entranced in.

“There’s not a problem is there, sweetheart?”

“No, no. God, no! Not at all! It’s great, yeah. I’m excited to see them.” Your words wavered a little, battling the line of truth and lie.

It wouldn’t be so bad to see some familiar faces, and maybe rekindled some friendships now that you had waywardly returned. But, the scoop neckline of your slinky tank couldn’t hide the wave of blushing, blind disappointment climbing your chest. A result of how you felt about having to share him with others. As if he was yours to share.

People welcomed themselves in, some toting 6-packs, a brown sack marked with the logo of a bakery downtown that you knew created all things scrumptious, so you’d have to get into the good graces of the woman you didn’t recognize carrying it towards the kitchen. The faces had changed, but a handful of them still had those same smiles, or telling eyes from the past, and they appeared strangely excited to see you. Especially Tucker, someone closer to your age who had grown close to Chris through tap classes. The only other person on the planet who was informed on your most secret desires for the handsome Evans in question.

He nearly sprinted towards you, cradling your now squished, reddened cheeks in his hands. Your nose crinkled and eyes rolled with nothing but the truest joy at his fanatical greetings.

“Well, well. If our girl isn’t where all her little wet dreams from 15-years-ago unraveled, hm? Assuming you have been up to his bedroom already?” Tucker pinched your bottom playfully, murmuring into the hollow of your ear.

“Oh, give me some credit, Tuck! What kinda girl do you think I am?!!”

“One who has wanted a slice of that man since we were 13, Amelia. That’s who.”

God, he wasn’t wrong. He was the farthest left from anything resembling wrong, and it made the contents of your stomach swimming with the heavy red wine want to escape. You didn’t trust yourself to keep it together with Chris, and hold on to even the tiniest little remnant of your dignity. Your gut knew all he had to do was say the word, and you’d go skipping into his bed like most eager of beavers. But, God. You wanted him to say the word……

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying. This one is a bit unnerving for me, and my readers are used to Hardy content. Your feedback is always welcomed with open arms! Again, let me know if you'd like to me added, or removed from the tag-list! xx

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog