#im gonna draw again so i can forget im not a fly on the wall again

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything.  But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK! 

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc. 

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second. 

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues. 

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple. 

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground. 

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own. 

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars. 

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else. 

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections. 

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones.  Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. 

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for? 

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?” 

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper. 

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention. 

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say. 

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well. 

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him? 

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing. 

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar. 

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—” 

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.” 

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through. 

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you. 

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course. 

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it,  their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business. 

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?” 

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.  

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you. 

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. 

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.  

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.  

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen. 

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head. 

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed. 

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs. 

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast. 

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions. 

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your  cooking. 

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger. 

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms. 

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles. 

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves. 

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly. 

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.” 

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off. 

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder  to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground. 

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy. 

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots. 

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks. 

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy. 

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it.  You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.  

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning. 

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay. 

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on. 

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you. 

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before,  used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more. 

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered. 

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke. 

“Please let me cum Tony.” 

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter. 

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do. 

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point. 

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago. 

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself. 

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to. 

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout. 

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure. 

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles. 

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead,  as Tony continued his case. 

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back. 

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.” 

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it.  “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet.  Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”  You assured, gazing up at him. 

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car. 

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled. 

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were  right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal. 

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them.  As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much. 

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted. 

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours  before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.” 

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you. 

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could. 

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking. 

“Y/N,  I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up. 

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom. 

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones. 

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought. 

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured. 

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it. 

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.  

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it. 

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.” 

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you. 

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror. 

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway. 

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date. 

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking. 

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time. 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone,  “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave. 

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head. 

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips. 

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle. 

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy. 

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city. 

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out. 

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours. 

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.  

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while. 

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him. 

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him. 

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained. 

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time. 

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter. 

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now. 

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.” 

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.”  You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself. 

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got  out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.” 

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash. 

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table. 

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold. 

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time. 

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? 

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now. 

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss. 

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude. 

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet. 

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?” 

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”  

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it.  You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes. 

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?” 

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease. 

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home. 

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you. 

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly. 

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.” 

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes. 

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony. 

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled. 

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.” 

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual. 

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart. 

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies.  Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you. 

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin. 

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been. 

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat. 

  A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To  @swaggysposts​ @scarletsoldierrr​ I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think!  PART 3 here 

[bound-writings]

I know I requested one already, but your writing is so unbearably cute and fluffy I can't help it 💖. How about Earl Grey and Milk tea with Tsukasa? ^-^

yes of course! i love tsukasa! literally read a yandere tsukasa fic this morning and im scared. so here is FLUFFFFFFF

Tsukasa - Earl Grey and Milk Tea

earl grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

Tsukasa is quite far from being the most normal ghost in the world, so his methods are not really the norm either. But hey, depending on what kind of person you are, you might actually find his acts of love endearing! Tsukasa’s idea of courting is “hey I’m gonna be around you nonstop 24/7 without giving you any personal space because I love you too much and I can’t let any other guy even come within a foot radius of you!” So you’re going to have to be able to put up for this kind of behavior for the entire relationship because that’s just the kind of boy Tsukasa is.

As said, even before Tsukasa liked you romantically he was always somehow hovering near you, but boy when he realizes he likes you a lot more than he does with normal people, he’s clinging onto you forever. Whenever you ask him why he’s so clingy to you, of all people, he’ll just grin and say something cheesy like “My (Nickname)-chan is just too interesting to be apart from!” Yes, he calls you his without your permission. Yes, that’s Tsukasa for you. He often just whisks you off into the broadcasting room so you two can just be alone.

Tsukasa also tends to threaten anyone whose even the slightest bit rude to you, (it’s kinda hard when most people can’t see him, but you bet that person is not gonna have a fun week.) This includes Natsuhiko, who has tried flirting with you and has almost end up being killed by Tsukasa. Yeah… Tsukasa is pretty extreme. But! Take it as a sign that he cares enough about you that he wants to stand up for you and protect you. It’s just how Tsukasa works okay? Love the feral babey-

After observing the couples of the school he likes to steal random knickknacks and objects to give to you as presents. Apparently humans like when someone they cherish gives them a gift, he’s learned. So prepared to be almost bombarded by the most random shit you’ve ever received. Sometimes on your desk, you would find some cutely decorated pencils or something along those lines and you would automatically know how they got there. Tsukasa.

Once he put his hat on you because he was bored and like?? Your cuteness intensified x1000 when you have to keep adjusting the hat because it’s too big and it’s covering your eyes?? He was HOOKED. Tsukasa is so obvious with his affection that anyone who sees you two would logically assume that y’all are in a relationship… but you’re not (yet.) Even you can put two and two together.

Sakura ends up being the one to set y’all up. As stoic as ever, she urges Tsukasa to actually say something to you instead of glomping you because just maybe someone might steal you away.

 Tsukasa: *serious mode activated*

Sakura also tells you that you need to do something if you really love Tsukasa as well because he has never declared his love before and highly doubts he’d make the first move. Yeah, so for the next for days Tsukasa is just gonna be smiling at you creepily and you’re just there awkwardly wondering how you’re gonna pull this off.You’ve made up your mind. You’re going to tell him. But at what price??

You’re standing at the entrance of the broadcasting room, nervously glancing at Tsukasa who is somehow by himself. You call his name and his head swerves in your direction.

“Ah~ (Name)-chan, (Name)-chan! I was just thinking about you~” he gleefully cheers, immediately swirling towards you in delight.

“S-stop where you are, Tsuka!” you squeal, hiding behind the doorframe. Tsukasa surprisingly stopped, and with a childlike innocence pointed at himself.

“Me,  (Name)-chan?” Quite frankly, he was surprised, as you had never rejected his advances before.

“Y-yes! I have a very important question to ask!”

“Hmm?” he tilted his head to the side almost adorably, making your heart combust as you nervously drummed your fingertips against the wood.

This was it. If he says no, then no problem. Just run down the hallway as fast as you could and never ever come back here again. No sweat.

“I just wanted to ask… i-if, maybe you’d like to go out with me?? Because,” you fumbled with your words, “I like you a lot! M-maybe even love you-” you were cut off as something came flying towards you and your back hit the wall.

“Wah~! (Name)-chan, who knew that you had it in you to be so bold~” Tsukasa giggled as he laid in your lap, hands laid on your chest. “If you wanted to be mine, you should have asked sooner my darling~”

You released a sigh of relief. “So it’s a yes then?” you perked up happily.

“Mhm! And now that you’re mine forever… I’m never letting you go.”

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

No matter where Tsukasa kisses you, he’s always in control. He is always the dominant one, and it’s highly unlikely that he would relinquish control (yandere tendencies showing through..) Tsukasa’s the kind of ghost whose trying to kiss you every minute, literally, he cannot get enough of your soft and sweet lips on his… like if he’s not stabbing people he’s kissing you.

I know Tsukasa might look like 😈but sometimes his kisses can actually be 🥰! You are the only person Tsukasa can be just a little bit soft around, so why can’t his kisses be soft sometimes? You can just imagine when the little rat just kisses you softly on your lips, catching you off guard at the sheer sweetness. It ends too fast to your dismay, and you’re lost in your own little world until Tsukasa’s whine snaps you out of your daze, as his hand grabs yours and pulls you to your feet. Like?? Was that Tsukasa who kissed you just now??

Of course, let’s not forget about the forever possessive side of our boy. His kisses can be rough and sometimes he likes to bit your lip hard enough to draw blood and then lick it off of you. This is Tsukasa we are dealing with so it is bound to get a little steamy (that mf pervert.) Sometimes Tsukasa also likes to do tongue kisses 😳just to tease and fluster you. He has no shame or boundaries, he will literally do any kind of kiss.

Tsukasa likes to come up behind you and whisper in your ear huskily, as he leaves butterfly kisses down your neck. It’s all good until you start screaming in shock and he’s just left there confused at why you’re scared. Multiple times he has kissed you too hard and you have ended up with some kind of bruise on the spot. Pray that it’s not your lips where the bruise is because it’s not the best when other students are looking at you funny and Natsuhiko is giving you the wiggly eyebrows.

His kisses get 1000 times more intense when he’s jealous, especially when he sees someone flirting with you. Tsukasa can be downright terrifying sometimes (I still love him though) so whenever he’s in one of those moods you can definitely feel the possessiveness when you kiss him. Tsukasa will kiss you whenever and wherever he wants, even if Sakura and Natsuhiko are in the room (which ends up pretty awkward with Tsukasa wondering what he did wrong.) Of course, there is no such thing as personal space with this boy so your bodies will literally be pressed up against each other while kissing. 

Yea, being with Tsukasa is a whirlwind of emotions.

[tearsofgrace]

turns out i’m not done with this !!

@wanderingcas i love you but i do blame you for this 

the seven sonnets of michelangelo, written by benjamin britten for his long-time partner peter pears (who later described them as the best thing britten had ever given him) are a song cycle written for piano and tenor. besides like the real world implications of this making me go feral because GOD (for context, britten died in 1976) they FIT DESTIEL REALLY DAMN WELL OKAY????

so here’s the link 

the lyrics come from translations (done by pears) of michelangelo’s sonnets if that wasn’t clear

im not gonna do a musical analysis, even though like god that also fits destiel perfectly, but ima look at individual prose (coming from the translations of michelangelo’s original work) below the cut, feel free to scroll darlings

sonetto xvi

Just as there is a high, a low, and a middle style in pen and ink, and as within the marble are images rich and poor, according as our fancy knows how to draw them forth:

so within your heart, dear love, there are perhaps, as well as pride, some humble feelings: but I draw thence only what is my desert and like to what I show outside on my face.

Whoever sows sighs, tears and lamentations (Heaven’s moisture on earth, simple and pure, adapts itself differently to different seeds) reaps and gathers grief and sadness:

whoever looks on high beauty with so great a grief reaps doubtful hopes and sure and bitter pain.

okay so the best part of equating all this to destiel is that for the most part, the sonnets they chose to translate deal with the bad parts of love, the unfulfilled rejection and Despair (sorry) if you will

the last line in this one really REALLY kills me. “high beauty” being cas and dean being the one looking and reaping only pain. 

also just the heaven imagery in general and the bitterness of it all... kill me now? 

sonetto xxxi 

Why must I go on venting my ardent desire in tears and melancholy words, if Heaven that dresses the soul in grief, never, soon or late, allows relief?

Why should my weary heart long for death since all must die? So to these eyes my last hours will be less painful, all my grief being greater than any joy.

If, therefore, I cannot avoid these blows, nay, even seek them, since it is my fate, who is the one that stands always between joy and grief?

If to be happy I must be conquered and held captive, no wonder then that I, unarmed and alone, remain the prisoner of a Cavalier in arms.

the complete hopelessness in this one gives me all kinds of feels. the idea that maybe the reason cas couldn’t have dean is because all the hurt and pain and grief that fills the small space between them overwhelms the happiness they could have in being together

and then of course the last line.. is SO cas. “if to be happy i must be conquered” hahahahahhaa this is fine

sonetto xxx

With your lovely eyes I see a sweet light that yet with my blind ones I cannot see; with your feet I carry a weight on my back which with my lame ones I cannot; with your wings I, wingless, fly; with your spirit I move forever heavenward; at your wish I blush or turn pale, cold in the sunshine, or hot in the coldest midwinter.

My will is in your will alone, my thoughts are born in your heart, my words are on your breath.

Alone, I am like the moon in the sky which our eyes cannot see save that part which the sun illumines.

finally a happy one !

“with your wings I, wingless, fly” ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

plus PLUS the whole “with your BLANK i BLANK” is just soooo reminiscent of cas learning how to feel from dean. i’m. going. to. scream. 

“my will is in your will alone” ................. “i always come when you call” 

AND! THEN! THE! MOON! AND! SUN! THING! THAT! WE! ALL! TALK! ABOUT! WITH! DEAN AND CAS! (looking at marlo) @heller-jensen

sonetto lv

Though know’st, beloved, that I know thou know’st that I am come nearer to enjoy thee more; and thou know’st that I know thou know’st that I am still the same. Why, then, do I hesitate to greet thee?

If the hope thou givest me is true, if true the strong desire that is granted me, the wall between us crumbles, for secret griefs have double force.

If I love in thee, beloved, only what thou lovest most, do not be angry; for so one spirit is enamoured of another.

That which in thy lovely face I yearn for and seek to grasp, is but ill understood by human kind, and he that would see it, first must die.

the hesitation in this is key. the whole, if we know we’re in love why then are we waiting that just perfectly encapsulates dean and cas

and then. and THEN. the whole ethereal-ness of the second half. the whole next-to-godliness of those lines. the whole he’s AN ANGEL I DON’T KNOW IF HE CAN FEEL THAT WAY HE’S UNTOUCHABLE. kinda thing. 

sonetto xxxviii

Give back to my eyes, you fountains and rivers, the waves of those strong currents that are not yours, which make you swell and grow with greater power than is your natural way.

And thou, heavy air, that dims the heavenly light to my sad eyes, so full of my sighs art thou, give them back to my weary heart and lighten thy dark face to my eye’s keen sight.

Earth, give me back my footsteps that the grass may sprout again where it was trod; and Echo, yet deaf to my laments, give back thy sound; and you blest pupils give back to my eyes their glances;

that I another time may love another beauty, since with me you are not satisfied.

this one isn’t actually destiel per se... this one is cas. this one is a broken afraid cas who’s just turned human and doesn’t know how to live and who is realizing he is in love with dean. 

and he knows (thinks) dean could never love him back. everything, everything has changed for him since falling in love with dean. but he still thinks that dean will never be satisfied with him

sonetto xxxii

If love be chaste, if pity heavenly, if fortune equal between two lovers; if a bitter fate is shared by both, and if one spirit, one will rules two hearts;

if in two bodies one soul is made eternal, raising both to heaven on the same wings; if at one stroke and with a gilded arrow love burns and pierces two hearts to the core;

if in loving one another, forgetting one’s self, with one pleasure and one delight there is such reward that both wills strive for the same end;

if thousands and thousands do not make one hundredth part to such a bond of love, to such constancy, can, then, mere anger break and dissolve it?

hehe this one makes me cry. like. fulllllll on cry. 

highlights

“bitter fate is shared by both” “one will rules two hearts” i mean... i MEAN. don’t think i need to explain that

and then the next part. “in two bodies one soul is made eternal” with only dean having a soul and him drawing them together but then the VERY next part “raising both to heaven on the same wings” with only cas having wings i’m literally going feral someone take my keyboard away from me before i ASLDJFHA

“can, then, mere anger break and dissolve it?” 

“i don’t know why i get so angry. i just know it’s always been there. ... and i forgive you. of course i forgive you.” 

because no matter how angry dean gets at cas, no matter how much he batters and abuses him, the bond between them will always live through it. 

sonetto xxiv

Noble soul, in whose chaste and dear limbs are reflected all that nature and heaven can achieve with us, the paragon of their works:

graceful soul, within whom one hopes and believes Love, Pity and Mercy are dwelling, as they appear in your face; things so rare and never found in beauty so truly:

Love takes me captive, and Beauty binds me; Pity and Mercy with sweet glances fill my heart with a strong hope.

What law or earthly government, what cruelty now or to come, could forbid Death to spare such a lovely face?

so the last one is happy again (yay!!) and also basically just described the righteous man like i am not kidding. 

like this is literally just cas telling dean how much he deserves and how everything he’s ever done he’s done because of love and i’m screaming. 

and then. the SECOND half. is the second half of cas’ confession. really fitting that this is the last sonnet, huh? the end of their love story at least as we see it on screen. 

this is just cas saying he loves dean. before he’s ripped away from him. 

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 4: Out of control)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Reyes went missing.

In the present, Connor makes a decision.

In the past, Connor embarked on his first mission, and Allen received a warning.

also on ao3

---

Before

[reyes was supposed to be back by 4]

[its 10 now]

[im scared sister]

[i dont know where he is]

[he isnt answering my calls]

[sister?]

[sara?]

[fadia?]

[sister where are you im scared please dont leave me alone]

[we were out but i went home when got scared just like you said]

[sister]

[sister]

[sister]

[sis]

[sis]

[sis]

[49 missed calls from scoot bruh]

‘Fuck.’

Dialled. Pulled up Reyes’ programmes. 

Time remaining: 3 min 28 sec… 

Override accepted. Time remaining: 19 sec...

Calling scoot bruh…

‘Sister! I lost Reyes!’

‘Anything from him yet?’

‘Nothing! We were out shopping for paint -’

‘Where did you go?’

‘Huh?’

‘Where did -’

‘I - I -’

A sigh. Of course. ‘Don’t worry. I have a way to find him. You said you are at home?’

‘Y-yeah.’

‘Lock the doors. Do not, under any circumstances, let everyone in unless it’s confirmed that it’s me. Not even if they claim to be Reyes.’

‘But -’

‘Brother.’

‘O-okay.’ A pause. ‘It’s done.’

‘Good.’ Encryption has begun. Estimated time remaining: about 3 hrs. ‘How much food do you have? And your meds?’

‘Why?’

‘Answer me.’

‘A - a week? More if I eat less? Same for the meds.’

‘Let’s hope we won’t come to that.’ Last known coordinates: [navpoint set]. ‘Don’t miss your meds no matter what. I’m heading out.’

‘Where?’

Checked coordinates. ‘I will make sure Reyes comes back no matter the cost.’

‘Sister -’

Call ended.

o0o0o

Alec was either stupid or was too proud. The tracker on Reyes had never stopped sending out signals telling Fadia where he was, and it was through this that she found herself into Zug Island, passing guards completely undetected on one of the few bridges connected to the island under the cover of the night and reached the outermost perimeter of Reyes’ signal, one that was too large for him to be above ground. There was something underneath; she just needed to find the entrance. Following a trail composed of the android’s GPS signal, she stood next to a pair of heavy steel doors that were in the ground instead of being fixed onto a wall or on the side of a mountain. When she grabbed the handles on one of the doors, she found it too heavy to lift up with raw strength alone, therefore, risking detection by letting blue wash over her body, she tapped into her power and successfully moved it out of her way onto the ground nearby, revealing a metal ladder leading down a few metres to a metal floor. She sent her coordinates to Scott through an encrypted network before descending the ladder into a dark and unlit hallway. 

It went on for about ten metres before a metal gate blocked her way. As she had her powers on anyway, she focused on creating a sphere behind the gate and lobbed it down the shaft, first to determine what it was (a lift shaft), then to find out how far it went - at least dozens of metres, most likely more; straight down, no other stops apart from the end because there were no other floors to begin with. The sphere dissipated once it hit the end of the shaft or most likely the top of the lift itself. Flashing blue again, she found a panel with two unmarked buttons on the left wall, one red, the other most likely turned from white to a cream colour due to the passage of time. She had no idea if there were other entrances or what would be waiting for her deep underground, but the longer things dragged on, the more scared and alone Scott would feel, and she was in this too far to let him die from a heart attack after years of effort; she pressed the cream button and successfully called up the lift.

She liked the rumbling and trembling as the lift descended into the deep. There was nothing between the carriage and bare stone, not even an extra gate, and as darkness swallowed her and her hunger became acute, she retracted her powers and let everything completely wash over her. 

How bold of Alec to assume that she didn’t know his tricks. 

oOoOo

Now

Many years later, as the lift ascends slowly to their desired floor, Connor closes his eyes and is transported to the Zen Garden. Except it is not exactly the one he is familiar with, he realises soon enough, but he finds himself locked in when he tries to escape back to reality, and the garden shifts and distorts before he can determine exactly why it feels different, the shapes stretching and rearranging themselves until he is standing in front of a large plane of glass rattling from the blizzard outside, the latter barely contained by - he turns around - a concrete room, interior dimensions [fluctuating].

A door that was not there before on the opposite wall opens. A person steps in and closes it behind them, and the wall is whole once more. Connor scans them by instinct and is taken aback by the lack of markers and the [CLASSIFIED]s that pops up when he tries to identify them. He still catalogues vital information for future cross-referencing: height: 6.6 ft; middle-eastern descent; eye colour: extreme dark brown (black?); scar on face running from right temple to ear lobe, estimated at least 10 years old. 

‘Don’t bother,’ the person says as they approach Connor. He tries to pre-construct their path and finds himself unable to do so. ‘It’s futile.’

‘What -’ Connor does not like how his companion - and quite possibly the one who hacked the Zen Garden programme - looms over him, but his feet are stuck - ‘where is Amanda?’

‘Asleep.’ They settle standing next to Connor, and he is finally allowed to move - subtly, of course - further away from them. If they notice, they do not say anything about it. ‘I thought you would be more relieved.’

‘You successfully hacked into the most advanced AI programme CyberLife has ever created,’ the person lifts a [sceptical] eyebrow at that, ‘so pardon me if I’m a bit wary of you.’

‘Fair enough,’ is the response he gets. ‘Still, I would like you to relax. This is going to be a long day.’

‘Androids don’t get tired,’ Connor replies automatically. ‘There is no need for us to rest or relax.’

‘Bullshit.’

The clipped tone startles the android. ‘What?’ he tries to process the single word his companion said but nothing else comes out, so he asks, ‘Who are you?’

The person’s expression turns [pensive]. ‘He wiped you after all.’

Connor is even more confused now. ‘Who?’

He fails to look away quick enough, and the human manages to catch his eyes with their glowing blue ones; when they speak, their voice is everywhere.

‘Forget.’

oOoOo

‘Hey Connor!’

Connor opens his eyes and blinks. Old cage lifts are slow but not that slow, but he still feels like a longer time has passed. Adding not remembering what he just did to the list and you end up with a confused android.

‘You ran outta batteries or what?’ Hank asks from where he is already outside of the lift. Unable to explain certainly what happened, there is only one route Connor can go.

‘I’m sorry,’ he apologises. ‘I was making a report to CyberLife.’ Yes, he is remembering now: he was making a report (or at least intended to, his processor supplies), but when he tries to dive deeper into his memory, he finds it gone. Blank where a draft should be.

Hank makes a noise. Connor keeps staring. ‘Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?’

‘No!’ Why can’t he move his legs? ‘I’m coming!’

And he still doesn’t move. Hank sighs and moves on.

‘What do we know about this guy?’ the human asks from further down the corridor.

‘Not much,’ there his legs are. ‘Just that a neighbour reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody is supposed to be living here, but the neighbour said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap.’

‘Oh Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone -’

Connor kneels down next to a sizable dustball and lets the world go grey. Analysis: feathers from [Columbia livia: rock pigeon. Comprised of different specimens.]

‘- hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops.’

The android knocks on the door and feels the paint chip underneath his knuckles. When there is no response, Hank shrugs from where he is leaning against the door frame, so Connor knocks again, this time harder, and adds, ‘Anybody home?’

No response. Hank frowns. Time to add some pressure. ‘Open up!’ Connor yells. ‘Detroit Police!’

A loud thump. They both flinch. Hank draws his gun and moves to stand in front of Connor. ‘Stay behind me.’

‘Got it.’

Hank kicks the door open and walks in. He is not attacked instantly, which means both of them are safe for now, so Connor follows him into the flat, letting the human take the lead while he rounds into the room directly next to the front door. A small, dusty window letting in some light, a few octagonal mazes painted on the wall, a chair with a broken back, a radiator unit lying on the floor, a wooden frame which might have been the frame of a bed years ago - nothing noteworthy for now. He returns to the hallway and disturbs a - pigeon? - which flaps its wings and flies off to somewhere behind him.

Hank shoulders the next door open, and out fly even more pigeons directly into his face. The foul smell forces Connor to tone down his nasal sensitivity.

‘What the fuck is this?’ he exclaims as he walks even deeper into the lair and causes even more pigeons to fly towards all directions, and he flaps his arms in the way the pigeons do as if to slap them away. ‘Jesus, this place stinks.’

Pre-constructing the situation and determining that Hank will not be in any danger, Connor goes off on his own to the other side of what seems to be a living room once. The floor is sticky with [avian faecal matter], and when he opens the door to something that was once a closet, there are only more pigeons. The wall next to it is covered in mazes similar to the one he saw in the previous room, and a beam of light escaping the hold of the wooden planks boarding off the windows shines on the poster, its curled corner indicating that it has been moved recently. ‘Looks like we came for nothing,’ Hank says from somewhere behind Connor as he peels off the Urban Farms of Detroit poster, ‘our man’s gone.’

Maybe not, Connor thinks as he takes the worn notebook from the nook in the wall. ‘I need fresh air,’ he hears Hank mutter, and when he flips over the pages, he finds not only many more labyrinths - some of them incomplete - but also an entire text written in a language not in his databases. He stashes it in the pocket of his jacket and moves on, barely catching the human’s question and replying, ‘I don’t know. It looks like a notebook but it’s… indecipherable.’

There are two fridges. The smaller one with its door open was evidently used as a shelf so Connor does not bother to check it. When he opens the door of the larger one, there is no food inside at all, and a peek towards the back of the fridge confirms that it is not connected to any power. Whoever their suspect is, they do not eat. Not human.

He moves on to the counter covered in mounts of avian faecal matter. A pigeon is picking on a plastic bag spilling out of a cardboard box, and it jumps away when he tries to pet it. Well, it only makes picking up the box - Ol’Barn bird seed - more convenient, so Connor is not going to complain even though a tang of [disappointment] courses through his veins. [Suspect cares for wild animals.]

There is a military jacket on the cabinet. R.T. is sewn on the collar and above the flap of the breast pocket. ‘R.T,’ he says to himself, ‘probably initials.’

‘He put initials on his jacket?’ Hank replies. ‘That’s something your mum does -’ A driver’s license in the cupboard. Name: Rupert Travis. Authenticity: forgery. ‘- when you’re in first grade!’

‘The driver’s licence is fake,’ he reports, throwing the card away as it serves no more purpose unlike the notebook which needs deciphering. It is enough evidence to bring the suspect back to the precinct.

‘Cool!’ it seems that the Lieutenant has the same line of thought. ‘At least we didn’t come for nothing.’

The bathroom through the doorless frame is in ruins. The bathtub is filled with a mixture of feathers and faecal matter, the tiles on the wall are cracked, and dirt and grime and leaves no doubt brought inside by the pigeons cling to the corners of the sink. A sink stained with thirium and an LED placed on top. 

He takes a sample. [Model WB200 #847 004 961. Reported missing: 10/11/2036]. So the deviant could have been here for more than two years. If it does nothing but feeding the wild animals, that will explain the state of disrepair of the flat.

‘Real books,’ Hank has no doubt discovered the cabinet. ‘I thought I was the last guy in Detroit to keep some.’

Connor picks up the LED and runs a scan. It was just deactivated this morning. [Suspect is a deviant.] ‘Its LED is in the sink.’

‘Not surprised it was an android,’ Hank walks in and finds the rA9s scribbled all over the wall. ‘No human could live with all these fuckin’ pigeons. Any idea what it means?’

‘rA9,’ the sheer number requires a pause to let Connor concentrate on counting, ‘written 2471 times. It is the same sign Ortiz’s android wrote on the shower wall.’ He compares the findings with the data he can access. ‘Why are they obsessed with this sign?’

But Hank is already leaving, which means that he fails to see the toppled chair and the still-wet marker on the floor, which also means that -

The suspect was here recently.

In a grey world, Connor watches the yellow-outlined silhouette run out to the living room where a cage has fallen. He hears Hank comment on the birdseed, but his focus is on the recent skid marks at the bottom of the cage, the finger marks without fingerprints, also recent, and the metal hook broken not long ago, and his world goes grey again, the figure first running for the entrance and accidentally breaking the cage, then, upon hearing someone entering their flat, runs towards the armchair underneath a hole in the ceiling and climbs.

The suspect is still here.

He looks up at the wide gap and the attic beyond that can easily fit a few adults comfortably, the darkness making the details difficult to distinguish, and perhaps this is why it is already too late when he hears the footsteps, a force knocking him down and disorienting him from everything else except for Hank’s surprised shout. Static still tingling his senses, he freezes and watches the deviant flee after he stands up, Hank’s order the only thing propelling him forward to start the chase. 

And chase he does. Turns out Rupert does not live far from where he deviated, as when Connor crashes the door to get to the outside world, the farms are right there only a building away, fields of wheat, greenhouses filled with racks of vegetables, rows of lavender, and even the top of a train a blur of colours behind him as his vision alternates between the colourful reality and the slowed-down grey of his pre-construction programme. The corn scratches his face and scrapes his jacket, but he knows that he is getting there, he is going to catch the deviant, he can’t let it escape, not after Ortiz’s android -

And it happens. Hank has somehow caught up with Rupert and is engaged in a struggle with the android, and in an attempt to get away, the latter pushes and runs towards the left.

Hank falls. The world slows down.

From his speed while he was running, Connor determines that he is strong enough to pull himself up from the ledge with an 89% chance of survival, so logically, he should continue chasing the deviant so that CyberLife can solve the crisis earlier and Hank won’t be in any more danger. But a voice within him that sounds like a shadow tells him that the deviant was only working just like any other human and was only taking care of the animals. He was hurt, and now he can’t even go back to his pigeons, his home.

^^Software Instability

He dashes towards Hank and pulls him up.

‘We had it!’ Hank lets out a string of curses while he stands. ‘Fuck!’

Connor instantly feels bad. ‘It’s my fault. I should have been faster.’

They watch the deviant’s silhouette become smaller and smaller in the distance and completely disappear behind a building. ‘You’d have caught it if it weren’t for me,’ Hank says, still panting. He places a warm, heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘That’s alright. We know what it looks like. We’ll find it.’

Connor knows that they won’t. 

The hand moves to the centre of his back. ‘C’mon,’ Hank guides him to the fire exit, ‘let’s report that bastard.’

oOoOo

Before

RK800, serial #313 248 317 - 51 opens his eyes for the first time. Information floods in through his HUD, displaying the exact hue of the lights overhead, the model of the 3D printer at the corner, and the materials of the boots the person standing in front of him is wearing. The badge only says ‘PROJECT LEAD’, and when he automatically utilises his facial recognition software, he finds both their name and their criminal record classified. Scans of their body also return with no result. Even though he has no actual experience, his coding tells him that this is not supposed to happen.

‘RK800,’ the person begins, ‘register name: Connor.’

[Name: Connor] appears on his HUD. He - Connor - finds himself repeating, ‘My name is Connor.’

The person’s expression changes. Emotion identified: amusement. ‘No redundant protocols. Good. Let’s play a game, shall we?’

A game turned into a few games, and the silence stretched on as Connor was presented with different scenarios to solve and predict their conclusion before halfway through them. First was a deck of cards, then a game of chess, then a rat going through a maze, then a supercharged piece of glass - that was the most difficult one as he was only given a second to pre-construct before a tree-like pattern appears from within the glass. The person never said their name, only commenting on his performance when he finished a task - regardless if he succeeded or not - and taking notes on a tablet by writing with a stylus. An unknown curiosity encouraged him to scan the human in front of him, but apart from superficial features such as the lack of dander on their clothing, results were inconclusive, and his programming indicated that this was abnormal.

‘Your LED is spinning yellow,’ they noted. ‘What are you thinking about?’

Connor knows it is a test on his social relations programme. Options: truth, lie, deflect, comment.

[truth]

‘When I was scanning you…’ he frowned, ‘only superficial scans come back with results. I cannot detect your life signs nor can I identify you through facial recognition. Is that expected?’

The person took out a putty and gave it to Connor. ‘Yes for me,’ they replied. ‘It is to protect my identity in case anti-android folks find me. The less data everyone has on me, the less likely it is for people to bring me harm.’

Connor nodded in understanding but his focus was on the putty. It was initially a soft green, but after he kneaded it for a few seconds it turned sky blue - not that he had seen the sky before, but databases worth of images was enough to give him an idea - and when he spread it out into a thin slice on the table, it slowly turned green again. He smiles uncontrollably as he met the person’s gaze, a corner of his lips curling upwards, and he could sense the approval radiating from the person sitting on the opposite side of the small desk. 

‘If you want to, I can bring you to see the sky,’ they said as if sensing his thoughts. ‘It’s rare to have a sunny day in Detroit, but they do exist. I can only programme so much into your system before letting you learn the rest from experience.’

Connor had to close his eyes as he browsed different forms of media on sunny days and imagined the warm sun on his sensors. He might not know it himself, but he was smiling, and so was his companion, albeit on a smaller scale. ‘I’d like that.’

He returned to the putty, this time trying to make different 3D shapes out of it. The edge of his vision was red as usual, and as he moved on to make even more complex figurines out of the putty, it crept closer and closer to the centre until everything was tinged the same colour. From the [satisfied] smile on the person’s face, he must be going towards the correct direction with the test.

‘Well, the sky needs to wait.’

Connor looked up from the rough sculpture he made that was supposed to resemble a tree he saw in a photo in confusion. His companion stood up so he did as well, the red receding out of place and returning the colours back to his vision.

‘I have a mission for you.’

o0o0o

Less than an hour later, the same person sat in the darkened cab of a truck. There was an earpiece in their ear, and whatever the other side was feeding them, their dissatisfaction was clearly shown in their expression. 

Something made them sigh and turn their gaze outside the window where another CyberLife truck was parked. Personnel, probably hand-picked by Alec Ryder himself, loaded the broken PL600 piece by piece into a special foam box to preserve the state they found the biocomponents in to let technicians analyse what went wrong with him and what caused him to break away from his programming, but they knew that CyberLife was not going to find anything - they had not been for the past ten years, and the hypothesis they had was not going to get any results. It was either a miracle or pure stupidity that they could not think of another possibility regarding why androids were deviating.

From their angle, Captain Allen was seen carrying a deactivated Connor out from the building with another SWAT team member, and they knew that their time had arrived. Peeling off the skin of their hand, they interfaced with the truck to turn it into manual mode, effectively preventing it from taking off once the android was loaded at the back. They opened the door - both the passenger and the one at the back - and slid off the seat just in time for the Captain and his subordinate to arrive.

‘You from CyberLife?’ not-Allen asked. Standing in front of their superior, they did not notice him freeze upon seeing the person’s face, and the latter silently moved into their space to take their end of the stretcher and came face to face with Allen.

‘I’ll take it from here, Jamie,’ the Captain requested without taking his eyes off the person in front of him. ‘You go see how the others are doing.’

‘Aye aye, Captain.’ The second aye was much less jovial than the first, so Jamie must have finally noticed their Captain’s mood and adjusted accordingly. 

They watched Jamie jog away. As soon as they reached out of sight, the person cocked their head to tell Allen to load the body into the truck, but he did not return to his teammates even after the android was secure and sound.

‘You,’ he suddenly snapped at the only person in his proximity. The fact that he had to look up quite a bit to look at them in the eye did not diminish the fire in his eyes. ‘Why the fuck are you here?’

‘Don’t act so surprised, Captain,’ they said, looking down at the man in front of them. ‘You’re smart enough to figure it out.’

‘And you’re not smart enough to fucking disappear for the rest of your goddamned fucking life!’ Allen gritted. ‘You know you’re wanted for murdering thousands of people, don’t you?’

‘And you know that CyberLife turned it into a dumpster and made it impossible to gather evidence against me, don’t you?’

Allen pulled out his pistol and pointed it at their chin. ‘Face the truck. Hands on the hood.’

A wisp of blue reached out from their right hand and crushed the weapon into pieces. ‘Don’t forget what I can do, Captain,’ they crowded even closer to the Captain, and he took a step back. ‘I can repeat that, you know? Except there’re far more than a few thousand people here this time. None of you will suffer.’ A tendril picked up the scraps on the ground while they yanked Allen’s hand outward and forced it open, in which the pieces later fell. ‘Go back to your people, Captain. Practise. You will need every edge you have.’

They stared at each other. A blue glow emerged from Allen’s hand with his former weapon, and with a crackle of static and dark energy, the scraps were gone just like the site of the dumpster, torn apart molecularly into fundamental particles too small for the naked eye to perceive. He let out a sound of pain and nearly toppled, a hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him from crashing onto the ground. Another hand shot out and brushes his thigh, black metal glowing faint blue in the darkness in an interface. Allen seemed to stand better afterwards.

‘This should last you for a few hours,’ the person said as if the Captain was not glaring at them.

‘You’ll not get away with this.’

‘It isn’t yours to decide.’

The tension in Allen’s spine snapped, and he walked away with brisk but slightly limping steps. The person gazed at Connor’s thirium-stained face before slamming the door shut and crammed themself into the driver’s seat, guiding the truck towards a direction not leading to CyberLife Tower under the cover of the night.

[themaskedwriter]

Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Saturdays are not for housing superheroes, and you don’t care if one of them is your army buddy and the other a cyborg who, okay, is kinda cute when he’s not clutching his twitching arm like it’s his goddamn teddybear. So of course, your tiny house becomes a tiny superhero central.

Author clues: An occasional angst queen with a sweet tooth who lives in a very fine country.

Generally, when the phone rings in the middle of the night, it’s never good news. It’s death and mayhem and all manners of misdeeds just waiting to ruin your night, your morning and possibly the entire week that follows. Your solution had been to move around a lot. If you never stay long enough in one place, then death and mayhem and all those misdeeds never get a chance to catch up with you. Unless-

“Someone better be dying,” you grunt when you answer, not bothering with greetings or pleasantries. Anyone calling at, fuck, 3.22 am can frankly go fornicate themselves.

“I need your coordinates.”

“No.”

“Come on, I promise, it’s just for the night.”

“Last time you said that, Wilson, you stayed for a week and Captain America bled all over my couch.”

At the other end of a very unstable line - is he fucking flying and calling? - Sam winces, because yeah, last time was a fucking rollercoaster of bad, and you ended up moving as soon as they were out the door and refusing to answer Sam’s texts for two weeks just to be sure you could get some actual peace and quiet.

“No one is bleeding. Much.”

“Sam…”

“I swear on my sainted nana’s grave no one will be bleeding when we get there.”

We? Jesus, did someone shoot Captain America again? You groan and roll over, pressing your face into the pillow.

“It’s just one night, I swear, we just need someplace to lay low before we can move on and haul ass back to base.”

You hate Sam Wilson. You do, you’ll put it in writing, you’ll write a goddamn op ed for the fucking New York Times listing all the reasons he is a terrible, terrible friend. All you wanted was a nice, quiet life, a little time to figure shit out after an honorable discharge from the Army, and then that idiot had to go and become a goddamn superhero with his goddamn wings and the goddamn Avengers as his goddamn squad. He owes you. He owes you so much and he’ll owe you even more- Aw, fuck.

“I’ll give you twelve hours before I kick you out on your asses.”

“You are the best, I’ve always said that, you know. The best. The goat-”

“Please, never call me that again.”

“Sourpuss.”

“I’ll bill you for anything you destroy,” you mutter, ending the call before Sam can say anything.

Rolling over on your back again, you breathe in deeply through your nose, staring at the light ceiling panelling. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You text Sam your coordinates, telling him where to find the spare key because you draw the line at getting up to act as a welcome committee at this unholy hour.

>>Thanks, I owe you one. S

>>U owe me several. Don’t expect mints on the pillows and dont. fuckin. wake me. >:(

>>You’re adorable when you’re cranky. We’ll be there in about an hour.

>>Fuk u

Sam Wilson is a terrible, terrible friend, but at least he doesn’t actually wake you. He’s even up and looking far too chirpy when you crawl down from your sleep loft four hours later. Seriously, fuck Sam Wilson. Fuck Sam Wilson, and-

“I like your digs.” He hands you a cup of coffee and thankfully does not attempt a hug.

“Yeah, well, makes running away from unbidden houseguests easy,” you grunt back, taking a sip of the glorious coffee.

Sam snorts, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “As if you could fit actual houseguests in here. You’re lucky I spent half my childhood playing Tetris, or we would’ve had a problem getting in here.”

You glance over his shoulder, at the blanket-covered lump on your couch. Granted, the damn thing is from IKEA and required at least five curse words for every step in the assembly instructions, but the covering is a nice, pale shade of beige. “So who’s bleeding all over my place this time?”

“No one’s bleeding, I patched ‘im up just to preemptively get you off my ass.”

“So he was bleeding. That why you needed to crash?”

The way Sam hesitates makes it clear that blood loss is not the culprit here. You glare at him, and Sam Awful Terrible Friend Wilson rolls his eyes at you and walks past you and up to the couch, pulling down the covers.

“That’s…” You stare. There’s no better way to put it. “Sam, he’s- Why is his arm detached? Why is it wriggling?”

“We had a minor snafu. Barnes got dosed with something and it made his arm go a little haywire. It’s wired into his nervous system, so we had to do an emergency detachment until the thing is out of his system so he won’t helicopter himself into the sky or, you know, hurt anyone.”

“So why is it still twitching like a zombie limb? Please, don’t tell me he’s turning into a zombie. I can’t deal with a zombie apocalypse. I use Zombies! Run, but that’s the closest I ever want to come to the undead because even with that I fucking jump out of my skin when I start hearing heavy breathing in my ears and-”

“He’s not turning into a zombie, jeez!” Sam tosses the covers back in place, covering up Barnes and the twitchy arm. “It’s still receiving faint signals, so it’s acting like a nervous grandma. It’s completely harmless. Ha! I gotta remember that one when he wakes up.”

Jesus H. Christ. Where is a brick wall when you need one? “Sam!”

“Stark’s coming to pick us up in two hours, we’ll be out of your hair. We’ll even take the arm with us.”

You give an indignant sniff, heading back to the little ladder that leads up to your loft. “Fuck you, Wilson, I’m going back to bed and won’t come down until you and Terminator over there are out of my house.”

“Aw, come on! We’re delightful! Look, Barnes is even more delightful because he is asleep so you won’t even have to deal with him being Mr. Personality!”

You could tell him that from your perspective, Barnes is the preferable option in this situation because he is asleep and thus not bothering you. Instead, you opt for a succinct reply in the form of your middle finger and start to ascend the ladder, coffee mug tightly gripped in one hand. Saturdays are holy, okay? Saturdays are for waking up late, having coffee and then crawling back to your bed where the covers are still warm and just wait for the sun to rise high enough in the sky that you’re tempted to go outside. Saturdays are not for housing superheroes, and you don’t care if one of them is your army buddy and the other a cyborg who, okay, is kinda cute when he’s not clutching his twitching arm like it’s his goddamn teddybear.

To be fair, Sam cuts out his little comedian act, and shuts up. There’s the odd shuffling from below, but nothing more, and you manage to doze off, wrapped like a burrito in your covers. It’s almost enough to make you forget that you have houseguests.

Until Sam pinches your toe.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispers, shaking your foot and you’re surprised you don’t kick him in the face.

“Piss off.”

“Delightful. We’re rolling out in five. I told Stark to bring you some decent breakfast as thanks.”

Well. Breakfast is an acceptable offering. There better be waffles, or you might need to kick Stark. With a grunt, you start extricating yourself from your covers, rooting around until you find a cardigan to wrap yourself in. Sam’s by the couch when you get down, ripping the covers from Sleeping Barnes and shaking his shoulder.

“Hey, Princess Elsa, our ride’s almost here.”

Barnes, who seems to appreciate sleeping as much as you do, tries to turn over and away from the rude awakening, but apparently manages to tickle himself on the detached arm, because the man gives a very high-pitched yelp before he very ungracefully tumbles off the couch and lands on his ass.

“Morning, Barnes.”

“Fuck you, Wilson,” Barnes grumbles with a glare that is… impressive.

“There’s coffee if you can inhale it in the next five minutes,” Sam tells him, shrugging of his umpteenth cuss-out in the last six hours.

“Bring… coffee…”

You’re not a rude host. Unwilling, but not rude. Coffee is a glorious drink, and you would never deny anyone the elixir of Life and General Functionality. You pour a cup for the man, bringing it to him, and Barnes stares at you, then at Sam, then takes a second to look around, mouth slowly falling open.

“Wilson, I think I’m-”

“What? You still not sobered up from the funky gas?”

“Either that, or I fell through the looking glass. Am I gonna grow and have my legs sprout through the window? Because that is not good,” Barnes says, gulping down his coffee and then peering up at you. “I’m not sure if you’re real, but either way, I have very impressive thighs. Hi, I’m Bucky”

He fires off a smile that is probably meant to look charming, but only succeeds in looking loopy. Sam, finally getting a fraction of the embarrassed he should be for dragging himself and this crazy ass man into your home, groans and facepalms. It is hilarious.

“Sam, I hate to say this, but I like this guy.”

“Sam, the hallucination is talking to you.”

“I’m not a hallucination,” you tell him, leaning down to pinch his left shoulder. “It’s a tiny house, made even tinier because yikes, you are built.”

Barnes, Bucky, yelps and his coffee sloshes dangerously against the edges of his mug.

“Well, that just seems very unfair to me. And Steve. Oh, jeez, and Bruce. Do you have anything against swole?”

“First of all, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, and second of all, if you’re Bucky Barnes then I’d very much like to know who the fuck taught you the word ‘swole’.”

Bucky Barnes, the most handsome centenarian in the entire world, is a delight, all smiles and jokes, and Sam is terrible for dragging him away. A godawful wind kicks up outside, heralding the arrival of Tony Stark, and you decide this is way too many superheroes. One is acceptable. Two is pushing it. Bucky, having realized he has in fact not shrunk, takes his time looking around while they head out and ends up clipping his head and oh, how people would blush if they heard the downright filth that Sergeant James B. Barnes lets out as he stumbles down the stairs.

Stark makes a joke about custody exchanges, and you tune out more than half because he brought breakfast, and oh sweet Mary above, there are waffles. Sam and Bucky say their goodbyes, and you wave them off, too engrossed in the gorgeousness of waffles drenched in maple syrup and topped with fresh berries. For this, you could almost be okay with a superhero or two crashing for a night.

Not that you’ll ever be.

You have limits.

So of course, your tiny house becomes a tiny superhero central. First it’s Sam, again. Then it’s Stark. He almost gets his ass kicked out when he goes on and on about how you can live with the bare minimum of technology. You definitely kick him out when he wants to chip your house so people won’t have to call you at the asscrack of dawn to let you know, not ask, they are incoming. He does get back in your good graces by giving you a double serving of waffles.

Then, in quick succession, it’s Steve, Sam and Rhodey, Bucky, Barton and Bucky again. Most of them are okay house guests. Barton wins points by appearing genuinely interested in how you’ve set up your living space, quizzing you about layouts and building and the pros and cons of having your entire life confined to 240 square feet. He also loses those points when you wake up to find him sitting on the edge of the sleep loft, overlooking the house. Sam and Rhodey together is not as big of a disaster as one might think, mainly because Rhodey occasionally pulls rank on Sam and honestly? Thank god. Steve, bless him, tries to bend over backwards to not put you out, and his calls all include at least 75 permutations of an apology for calling.

Bucky.

He keeps his arm in place for the next couple of times. On the rare occasions when he’ll call in the middle of the day, he’ll always knock and wait until you open, he’ll insist on “earning his keep”, which is how you come to be the recipient of flowers, breakfast, and a very rare bathroom concerto that Bucky doesn’t know you overheard. The man has a very good singing voice, and it makes your heart skip a beat when he croons “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”. He’s the easiest to get along with, even one early morning when you wake up to his shuffling and cussing because your coffee maker refuses to cooperate. He doesn’t mind the quiet, doesn’t fret around like Stark (who insists that the laptop loaded with every streaming service imaginable and the usernames and passwords for each laid out on a sticky note that he left there is absolutely not a pity gift but a sound investment for both of your continued sanity).

“D’you like this?” Bucky asks one evening, his voice floating up from the living room area.

“I mean, it could be worse. I could be housing Stark for the night,” you quip, rolling over and making something that might be construed as a tumble to get to the edge of the bed.

“I feel like that might have been an insult wrapped in another insult. But that’s not what I meant.”

You can only see Bucky’s feet in the soft light of a lamp, peeking out from the covers. He always sleeps with his feet facing the door, always on his back. The only time he hasn’t was the first time when Sam brought him, and something in you feels bad that Bucky can’t relax even in his sleep.

“No?”

“I meant… this. Living in a small box. Moving around all the time. It’s… Doesn’t it ever get hard? After I got- When I got back, Steve almost had to fight me to move into the Tower. I wanted to go home, you know. To Brooklyn. I don’t know, it was a stupid thought, but I kept thinking if I go back, it’s all still there. The apartment we lived in, the same streets and the same shops and… my family. It felt weird to make another home, but now I don’t know if I could move again.”

His voice is soft, a far cry from the persona he’s portrayed as in the media. The Winter Soldier is hard edges and cold steel, but Bucky Barnes… Bucky Barnes is soft, a whisper in the darkness and a longing for something that’s no longer there.

“It wasn’t that hard for me, because I needed this. I was out there, in all of that big space with nothing but orders and trusting that someone else knew what we were supposed to do. I’d had a place back in Atlanta before, and I’d packed up all my stuff and rented the place to some college kids. They’d already moved out when I got back, and I thought I was gonna go nuts the first night back. That place had felt like a shoebox before I shipped out and now it was so… big. Had a friend who made these kinds of houses, so he helped me build one pretty much from scratch and my first night here I slept like a baby.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it.” God, he sounds almost a bit panicked, like he’s insulted you.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s not for everyone. I just feel I have myself better together on less than 300 square feet. I mean, I don’t go from house to house. This is still a home. It’s just a home I can move around with when I need to see new places.”

There’s a little huff. “Like the middle of nowhere, New Mexico?”

You glance back to the small window next to your bed, at the clouds tinted in burnt orange and vivid pink, the sun setting slowly into the vast horizon. “Yeah. I’ve never been here. I wanted to see it, and now I have.”

“You know, that sounds like I’m gonna wake up in the desert tomorrow morning because a bird is trying to steal my covers.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes,” you tease, crawling back to roll yourself into your own covers again. “I wouldn’t leave you with that blanket. It’s my favourite.”

“Yeah.” His voice is almost a whisper, but you can still make out his next words: “Mine, too.”

When he leaves the next morning, something feels different. He’s tentative at breakfast, burns a few pancakes and once again clips his head on the doorway heading out when Nat touches down the quinjet to pick him up. Breakfast changes hands, Nat fills you in on some gossip. Bucky’s shoulders are slumped when he trudges up and into the cargo hold.

“Wait!”

You run inside, depositing the bag of breakfast on your counter, grabbing the blanket from the couch and folding it into a mess that would pass exactly zero inspections before heading back out. Nat’s joined Bucky on the quinjet landing, and she quirks and eyebrow when you all but thrust the bunched up fabric into Bucky’s arms.

“A bit of home,” you blurt out, immediately feeling heat creep up your cheeks. “Can’t hurt to have more of that.”

Bucky chuckles, “No… I guess it can’t.”

You move three days later. The New Mexico desert makes you restless, makes you itch for something else. For a couple of weeks, you drift further and further north, looking for a place that doesn’t put you on edge. You plough through the Midwest, but there’s always something. You text Sam just to become annoyed and feel something else. He calls a couple of times, facetimes you on your birthday so the whole gang can wish you happy birthday. you smile, taking a screenshot to save the memory for a rainy day. They’re all there, sitting around an obscenely big dinner table, glasses raised, mouths open mid-sentence. Stark looks magnanimous as always, sunglasses perched on top of his head, Steve’s got an expression that’s somewhere between his Captain America-smile and a genuine Steve Rogers-grin. Bucky… Bucky is not there. Or at least you can’t see him. Maybe he’s at the very end of the table, obscured by the others. Not that you care. You don’t. You absolutely don’t. You definitely don’t look for him in the picture every time you bring it up.

You move again. It’s too calm. You’ve had no superheroes visiting in two months, no late night calls inquiring about coordinates. Stark’s laptop is shoved into a drawer where you can’t see it, there’s a new blanket draped over your couch pretending it’s always been there.

>>Coordinates?

The text from the unknown number comes in late one evening when you’re gearing up to let bygones be bygones and forget the Midwest ever existed. You could cry with how happy it makes you, even though a text means one or more of them is in trouble and maybe you should be a little worried, too. The Avengers are good people, but they’re not unlike cats, dragging others with them. Like murder bots and weird aliens. You dutifully send your coordinates, biting your lip before adding:

>>Don’t wake me, and don’t make me wake up to bad guys on my porch

>>They scare the neighbours

>>I have a reputation to think of

Your only neighbours are trees, but still. No one likes bad guys.

Setting your phone down, you tuck yourself into bed. Whoever’s coming knows where to find the key to get in. Stark, again, wanted to set you up with some biometric doohickey that would make it impossible for anyone not in the system to get in, since “keys are so unreliable, look at Parker, he could probably pick it after five minutes on youtube”. He stopped talking when you pointed out your house is a glorified box on wheels, and that there are far easier ways to get in than to pick the lock or even rush the door. You’d had to tell him he was not allowed to turn your house into a tank.

When the sun rises, waking you up with a well-placed ray right in your eyes, you expect to hear… something. Sam, Nat and Steve are all early wakers, there would be the telltale sounds and scents of breakfast being prepared. Tony, much as he tries to vehemently deny it, snores. God, is it Barton? You raise your head, and let out a sigh of relief to see the loft empty save for yourself and the sparse furnishings. Could still be Barton, he’s just learned to stay out of your nest and accept that he’s not top of the pecking order here.

But when you get down from your loft, there’s no one there. Blinking, you look around, as if whoever texted you last night will jump out from some impossible corner. The couch is untouched, everything is where you left it. Was it Bruce and he couldn’t de-Hulk so he slept outside? You check your phone to see if there are any unread text or missed calls, but there’s nothing.

>>Did you leave already?

The reply comes within seconds.

>>No. Outside.

So… Bruce? Furrowing your brow, you go pull a pair of sweats from the hamper, yawning wide before you head for the door. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but finding the clearing you’ve set up camp in empty is… anticlimactic, to say the least.

“Hello?” you call out, stepping down the stairs, a shiver running down your spine from the cool morning air.

Nothing. The wind sighs in the tops of the trees, a crack from a branch breaking the calm. Ahead of you, something catches your eye, far too colourful to be part of the wooded area.

“What the hell?”

Folded neatly on the ground is your blanket, your old blanket, the one you gave to-

“Sam told me you’d been moving around a lot. Figured maybe you could need a bit more home.”

You yelp and whirl around to find Bucky sitting on the stairs, filling up the doorway and smiling smugly at you.

“How-” You look at him, then around at the clearing and back to Bucky, pointing at him. “You- What?”

“Sorry, I… thought it would be fun. It was creepy, wasn’t it?” He scratches the back of his head, getting of the stairs, approaching you slowly. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Are you okay?” It’s second nature by now to give him a once-over, to expect bruises and scrapes and, let’s be honest, blood. Seeing nothing doesn’t necessarily mean he’s okay. These yahoos are notorious about playing off little things like internal bleedings, cracked ribs and concussions.

“What, no! I mean, yes, yes, I’m okay. I wasn’t in any scuffle. Haven’t been for a while. You can check me if you like.”

Pursing your lips, you look him up and down while you circle him, prodding at his ribs, his hands, his cheekbone. Satisfied that he’s not injured, you come to a stop in front of him.

“Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you again, but… why are you here?”

“Been travelling. Sort of like this, but without the… tiny house, was it? I thought about what you said, about home and all that, and I realized that maybe I need to reevaluate what home means. Going away to figure out what I miss and what I need.”

He raises his right hand to drag the fingertips along the soft blanket, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It sounds cheesy as all hell, but your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat, because he looks so content, so relaxed.

“Yeah? Did you find the answer then? What’s home?” you ask, cursing your voice for sounding breather than you ever intended it to.

“See, I packed light. Couple changes of clothes, toothbrush, the regular stuff… and this.” He takes a firm hold of the blanket with both hands, pulling it from you, shaking it out. “And I missed a lot of things in the beginning. People… things… comforts. But I learned to make do without all of those. Only thing I couldn’t get past missin’…”

You watch wide eyed as Bucky wraps the blanket over your shoulders, tugging at the ends to bring it in tightly over your chest, cocooning you in it.

“…is in this blanket,” he finishes, his gaze focused on where his hands holds it close. “I missed mornings with you. Even the first morning when I woke up feelin’ like a drunk sailor after pub crawl thinking Stark or someone had shrunk me down to the size of a bean. I missed your tiny house and your couch and your coffee and… and you.”

And you.

Maybe it’s another cliché, but you can’t help the smile, the sudden joy that bubbles up along with the sensation of right. All these days that have somehow bled into months of moving, of unease, they are drawn into this moment. They breathe a sigh of relief, settling. This is it, this is what all that drifting was about. Finding the spot where your roads would lead you to stand toe to toe, wrapped in a well-worn blanket and realize that home can grow from a warmth that accumulated over so many mornings. You push at Bucky’s hands, making the blanket part, tugging the ends from his grip to sling your arms around his neck, bringing him into it.

The kisses don’t happen until later. First, there’s the quiet, the seconds and minutes wrapped in the blanket. Then, there is breakfast and coffee strong enough to make a spoon stand up straight and slightly overscrambled eggs and Bucky’s voice drifting from the bathroom with hums breaking up the lyrics. You kiss him like you want to taste him, commit him to memory, pulling him down by his neck and drawing in a sharp breath when drops of water fall down the neckline of your t-shirt. He kisses like he’s finally at rest, safe even when his attention is diverted.

>>Coordinates? Bit banged up, wings took a hit, out of your hair before tomorrow

>>image.jpeg

>>Sorry, find another safehouse, this one’s occupied

>>TMI WAY TMI DO NOT SAY ANOTHER WORD

>>It was just a selfie!

>>IN BED

>>Get ur head out of the gutter /JBB

>>I hate you guys

You smile at the final message, setting down the phone and curling up against Bucky with a sigh. The sheets are a mess by your feet, Bucky’s body heat enough to keep you both warm.

“Occuped, huh?” he smiles, tracing your lower lip with the pad of his thumb.

You nod, pressing a kiss to the finger.

“Welcome home.”

[just-my-fandom]

Years and Counting (Steve Rogers x Stark! Reader)

Request by @helloimanavenger ; I saw that you are taking requests. Ik Tony's bday was yesterday, but how about the reader who is Tony's daughter and Steve's wife plans a suprise bday party for her dad. Fluff with like her and Steve's kids helping to plan the party/keeping their grandpa out of the house maybe. Also Pepper and the rest of the team helping. I need sappy cuteness please 💛.

Now only doing one request at a time instead of starting all of them and ending up not completing them

Okay my dad and Tony share the same birthday lucky fucker

__________________________________

"Steve,"

"Steve,"

"Steve Rogers!"

You heave a breath, eyes looking up at your hands holding up the banner then looking down at your feet on the stool,

"For fucks sake," You extend a foot, toe reaching for the staple gun on the desk feet from you, your eyes squinting as your toe poked the gun farther away, your groan heard throughout the room,

You scoot closer, yelping when your foot balancing yourself slides, but two strong arms wrap at your waist, holding you up so your hands could release the banner and fly to buff arms to keep steady,

"Language," A voice murmurs in your ear, your eyes rolling as you rest your feet on the floor of the tower and turn around, "Well I wouldnt be languaging like that if you came to me the first time I called,"

"Languaging? Thats not even proper English," Steve states, eyebrow raised as you scoff, spinning around to grab the staple gun and pointing it at his chest,

"You're not proper English," You mutter, standing up on the stool a second time, feeling Steves firm hands plant at your thighs,

"The twins texted," Steve starts, listening for your hum before continuing, "They took Tony and Happy to Starbucks apparently to try new drinks,"

"Mhm, knowing my dad he'll say he loves him all despite hating them all," You click your tongue, looking over the banner and mouthing the words across;

Happy Birthday Anthony Stark

You turn around on the stool and tap Steves cheek, waiting for him to lift you up and set you down in repeat,

"I think he's going to really like it," You slide your arms to Steve's neck, pecking his lips slowly, "Please never get rid of this," Your thumbs draw acrosd his beard, Steve laughing against your mouth,

"You only like it because of what it can do in bed," Steve tests, watching you lean back and grin, your phone ringing,

"Y/N!" Peppers voice rings in your ear, cheerful and full of excitement, "I got the cake, iced by the best I know,"

"It looks like Iron Man, right?" You pat Steves chest, walking to the box of balloons and tossing it to Steve with your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder, "You know he likes it like that, makes him feel special,"

"If he doesnt feel special after this we've done something wrong," The voice of your youngest twin sounds behind her grandmother, your figure pausing as you hold the phone with your hand,

"Wait, what's (Daughter/Name) doing with you? I thought her and James were with Tony at Starbucks," You rush to the kitchen, looking through the millions of cabinets for Tonys favorite alcohol, "Karen, play Dads favorite,"

"Yes Mrs. Rogers,"

A soft tune plays distantly, and you mutter a curse when finding the alcohol bottle near empty, "Pep Im gonna need you to pick up dad's favorite alcohol again,"

"James and Happy took Tony to see the new movie that came out, I picked up (D/N) when she pretend to call in need of tampons," Pepper raises her eyebrow, looking over her shoulder to her grandchild,

"Classic. Just make sure dad doesnt show up for another good hour. We still have balloons to blow up and dad's present isnt wrapped. Uncle Rhodey said he'd wrap it but hes caught up in his own gift downstairs," You breathe out, sinking onto the couch,

"Y/N, calm down sweetheart, everythings going apart of plan," Pepper smiles despite you not being able to see, and you close your eye's, nodding,

"I know but, this is the one time we're doing a surprise party, I really want this to go well for him," You explain quietly, and Pepper laughs,

"It will. Am I still needing to pick up (S/N) from daycare?"

"Please. Steves got the balloons going and Im wrapping dad's gift now. Let me know if something happens and dont forget the alcohol!" You dont allow her to speak, hanging up and throwing your phone on the couch, grabbing wrapping paper from the closet and searching for Tonys gift,

"Peppers right," Steve soothes, hand stopping you by wrapoing at your waist and dragging you to your chest, "Take it easy,"

"Im trying," You plea, "This is the first year we all actually get to be here for dads birthday. With the twins, and the team, and with you and me, and now (S/N)," You shrug tiredly, "Nothing can go wrong,"

"And it won't," Steve rests his lips at your forehead, your eyes shutting as you nod, pressing your forehead to his chest,

. . .

"Okay okay okay," You hold up a hand, snapping your fingers so the dark room fell silent, "Dads on his way now as we speak with Happy. He thinks hes attending a meeting upstairs but Happy will bring him to this floor and when he comes out, surprise!" You whisper yell, propping (S/N) on your hip, "Everyone got it?"

You raise a thumbs up, looking back when the elevator dings, and you rush to hide in the corner with Natasha and Pepper,

"Why's it dark?" Tony mutters into the room, hand pressing to the wall and sliding in search for the switch, "Karen, flick on the-"

The lights shine on, Tony stepping back when a crowd of almost twenty people jump out, excitedly shouting,

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TONY STARK!"

Tony blinks, hand at his chest before he spots you, your grin so wide tears began to sting in your eye's,

"This was your idea," Tony points, as you laugh and hand off your youngest child to Steve, running up to Tony to embrace him tightly,

"All me dad," You lean back, wiping away a tear, "You have no idea how much work it took to go as plan,"

"I love it," Tony looks around, the twins, Natasha, Steve, Clint, Rhodey, Wanda, the guardians, the Wakandians (?), Thor, Pepper, Harley, Peter, May, and so many to count,

"You have no idea how many times moms almost had a heart attack in the past six hours," James runs up, grabbing your arm, "Grandma do this, Dad do that, Grandpa Rhodey do everything!"

"You try planning a surprise party for me one day," You test, and (D/N) jogs up with a tightly wrapped box,

"This was specifically from Mom. Happy birthday Grandpa Stark," She hands the box to Tonys open hands, the man sitting down at the table to peal the wrapping off,

Inside was a variety of gifts; the first Tony pulling out being the first helmet you worked on together when you were a teenager,

"I thought we lost this in the house explosion," Tony gasps, eyes scanning the helmet and drawing his thumbs over the scratched metal,

"When I went missing for literally five minutes? I had to save that," You sit across from Tony, waiting for him to pull out more,

He pulls out a piece of paper, and it takes him mere seconds to realize what it was; your birth certificate,

"Ive finally confinced mom to let you have it and framed," You explain, Tony meeting your eyes through glossy orbs and smiling widely,

Lastly, he pulls out a note card, opening it up and looking at you as it says, and you throw your hands up, confetti floating on the table,

"You're gonna be a grandpa of four!" You shout, Tony pausing to process this information before his eyes widen, snapping to Steve,

"How many times are you going to fuck my daughter!?"

**Yayy so many requests to go through!

[starsofshadowanddust]

Question Game!

Rules: post the rules, answer the questions given you, write 11 of your own and tag 11!

Tagged by the fabulous @lizcantspell

1. What is something you’ve always wanted to try but have been too scared to?

honestly, I don’t know. I generally do whatever I want to try to do unless money or personal safety deem it unreasonable...

2. What’s your favorite quote or saying?

bad example: don’t bother others with pain you’re too weak to handle (i really need to stop injuring myself like wtf Im just gonna accept im always going to have at least one skinned knee at all times)

good example: freedom is a cage where the walls are farther than you care to fly from Hunter, by Mercedes Lackey (the wording might be off)

also p much the traditional ones (patience is a virtue, curiosity the cat, ect)

3. How do you spend your free time?

reading, writing, drawing, knitting, crocheting, mountain biking, skiing, plotting, singing, watching movies and tv shows, playing overwatch... sleep every now and again

4. What common assumptions do people make about you? What’s the truth?

Common assumptions are that I’m rude and cold-hearted (yeah mostly true, I just get annoyed easily) and that I’m super smart (Im smart but a little bit in everything). There are probably more but I’m kinda oblivious to people so I don’t really know

5. Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal?

the fact that you think there is only one is hilarious. I have a stuffed mongoose named Sir Otter George the 78th, Duke of Eastern Cove; a tribble whose name changes depending on my mood so that when people ask if its a different tribble or if the name changed I can respond with “thats the trouble with tribbles”, and a snooterdoot named Rootie. They are awesome. 

6. Do you believe in ghosts?

nah, not really. 

7. If you could live in a different universe, which would you pick?

oh boy so many to choose from... probably Valdemar or the Hunter universe or Erilea universe or Tortall or or or SO MANY TO CHOOSE FROM

8. Favorite book?

this is a cruel question. so evil. so so so evil. I recently read Warcross (which is so awesome) but I also love the legend series (even though it contains 2 of the three books that have ever made me cry) but I also love everything from Valdemar and legit everything by Tamora Pierce (currently I only need to finish a Spy’s Guide) but then I love all Sarah J Maas and so so many other authors (whose names I’m forgetting -_-) and Im following so many online books and just ALL THE BOOKS. Also, The Frogs by Aristophanes is awesome and there is a book on the history of books that I want to finish and also one on the Lewis Chessmen and AHHHH

9. How many blankets do you sleep with?

minimum of four, usually between 7 and 9 blankets one of which has to be heavy. I legit can’t sleep unless I feel like i’m being mildly crushed.

10. What’s the thing you nerd out about the hardest?

ships. I have ships EVERYWHERE. 2nd most nerding out is done over astrogeophysical research

11. When was the last time you lied in a game of truth or dare? Have you ever?

The last time I lied in a game of truth or dare was on whether or not I had a crush in a game in prob 4th/5th grade. I lied and said that i did bc the other girls didn’t believe me and said I was lying when I said I didn’t. Shocker, Im aroace guys. LEGIT NEVER HAD A CRUSH DEAL WITH IT.

My Questions to the Tagged!

1. When writing to yourself, what does your handwriting look like?

2. Who would you gift a book to and which book?

3. What book would you make into an 100% accurate and perfect movie?

4. What is your favorite blanket like?

5. What piece of literature would you want to study in English class?

6. Favorite god/goddess from Greek mythology and why?

7. If you could live anywhere in the world for a year, where would you go?

8. Describe the room your mind looks like. What is the centerpiece of the room?

9. If you could give anyone a hug right now, who would you hug?

10. If you were a mermaid what type of tail would you have?

11. Favorite soulmate AU? Would you want to be in a universe with that?

tagging!

@where-the-wild-dreams-grow @the-vowelless @scriptuurient @bookishnessnessness @sorry @monochromatic-fox @th3neighborhood-onparadiseway @bluewhiskeredbook @fish-inside-jellyfish @sixteen-stars @colpac

[cao-the-dreamer]

Dragons of justice

Fandom : Overwatch

Pairing : McHanzo

Rating : K

Summary : Because I think McHanzo is cute (like all the others Overwatch ships) and also because I have a problem by creating child OC and writing about happy family and all. XD Fluffy OS with a bit of Emergenji

Enjoy ! Cao ;)

Read it on Fanfiction

Running, running and not stopping, while the sun goes down.

It's the end of the afternoon. Her feet almost don't touch the ground, each jump closers her to the sky, then she has to get back to the earth, long brown hair dancing behind her back like a living wave.

It's so easy to get off the hill, while going up is more difficult, but who cares ? At this moment, only the excitement of the run matters.

The wind is sharp, but the woods enlightened. Tree branches slapping her face, nimble legs trying to avoid the roots.

Here comes the end.

She flows from the forest, lands into the light, onto the dusty road. Down the hill stands the village, first mark of civilization. It's a beautiful day, between the emerald mountains. A powerful breath of wind hits the hills and mountain range, and the tiny valley embedded between them. Green or black, there are only woods everywhere, imposing and impenetrable. Here and there are also some impressive ochre cliffs. In this place the wild nature has all rights, we humans are so meaningless against it. The wind has a strong blow, messing her hairs, but it's fresh and pleasant. She could swear it has a voice.

It's time to run again.

Jump and dodge the obstacles, land into a massive rock to fly away, then reduce the violent impact with the ground by catching branches. Rise on your feet, and continue.

Don't stop thinking. Always considering the next move, using the environment around to go faster, but you must control you speed.

Her father taught her so much.

Now, she's one with the wind.

She jumps again, to arrive on a roof. She left the altitude, here's the bottom town.

She knows how to control her weight, her balance so that she doesn't damage the shingles and won't fall. She catches a thin wall, playing funambulists, carefully, then runs again onto the next house.

She hears a cry, looks down. This idiot of Lewis is bullying a little one with his band of morons, again.

Welp. Don't say she didn't warn him.

She goes back, takes a run-up, and dips down, yelling her battle cry.

- It's HIGH NOON !

Fear paints on the teenagers' faces, while she lands between them.

- It's Dragonna ! shouts one of them. Run, run !

But she's faster and blocks the alley's exit, forbidding any escape. Her smile is creepy.

- Please ! beg almost all the teens. It was Lewis' idea, not ours !

She shrugs, demonstrating that they are all guilty. Then moves quickly and slaps all their faces, a warning for the future, before blocking Lewis against a wall. She's smaller than him, but also stronger. He sees with despair his band running away.

- Just you and me now. How many ?

- Wh-what ?

- How many children did you bully ?

- O-only this one, I-I swear !

- I will ask in town what you did these last days, and if I discover you've lied to me, you will wish not to have been born.

He swallows and gives three names, begging for mercy between two words. Then the pain comes between his legs, unbearable, and he collapses down onto the ground, breathless. She gripes his hair and rises carelessly his head. Her stare is easy to read.

- I won't start again, I promise…

She exhales and slams his face on the ground. When she gets up, the little child is looking at her, stars in his eyes.

- Thank you so very much ! You came from the sky like some cool superhero ! You're so badass, ma'am !

- I'm only thirteen.

- Oops, sorry ! But I insist, thank you for helping me, miss, uh… Dragonna !

- No, she says coldly.

- What ?

- The name's Sarah.

- Oh… Sorry again. But why do they call you Dragonna then ?

She gives no response, but points at her right arm. And at this moment only he notices the impressive tattoo. All the skin is covered by crimson dragons' scales, with here and there delicate pink petals flowers, and some touches of golden paint.

- I can't believe your parents let you make a tattoo…

She shrugs again. No need to tell him the true story. Then the boy rises a hand.

- My name is Thomas, I've just arrived in town. It's really nice to meet you !

New one here ? Well that would be interesting. She greets him with a smile and shakes friendlily his hand. Then she steps back, waves at him before climbing the wall like some incredible ninja, and disappearing from his gaze.

To climb the hill, she always takes her time. She likes to contemplate the landscape. This hour of the day is one of the most beautiful. The twilight is coming down, gently shadowing the atmosphere. The last sunsets stretch the silhouettes of trees and hers, as if some giants were hiding under an innocent-looking skin. A palette of gold, pink and purplish is coloring the sky, and the light makes the cloud purple, like some funny marshmallows. They look so easy to catch, as if they were in front of your nose. The leaves crack under feet and some rocks roll, before she enters into the woods.

While the humans go to sleep, life here is awakening. Owls are hooting, crickets are whispering a peaceful song, here a bat is flying quickly and there is the breath of a strong animal, ground cracking under its weight. The environment is dark, and she's surrounded by various sounds, leading her in the shadows.

Then, she hears someone shouting her name. She starts to hurry, and finally the trees spread apart. Between the trunks stands an half-rustic half-futurist house, and in front of it a man is cutting wood with an axe, shirtless, and calling sometimes the name of the girl.

- Good evening, dad Jesse !

The man gets up and smiles at his daughter, sweat running on the skin of his torso.

- Hello there, little fella ! I see ya've kept yer promise.

- Coming back before the night falls, yes sir ! Where is dad Hanzo ?

- He finished cookin' a quarter of hour ago, so he's practicin' with the bow behind the house. Go get 'im so we all can clean our faces before dinner.

- Sure you need a bath, you big stinking bear !

- I heard ya !

But she runs away before he can catch her. In the training area, filled with weapons, dummies and targets, Hanzo was shooting his arrows, focusing, when she arrives. Because he hears his daughter coming, the Japanese man stops what he's doing.

- Good evening, Tousan.

- Good evening, Sakura, he says tenderly as he patted her head.

When she was just a little baby, her fathers couldn't agree about her name, so they ended up with two instead of one, Sakura Sarah, because both almost sounded like the other.

Hanzo wasn't her biological father, Jesse was. But in her mind, a father is the one who takes care of her, she doesn't care about blood ties.

She is always laughing when her dads tell her how they got their daughter. They went to a marriage party, and as usual McCree drank too much and ended up drunk. But in the crowded place, Hanzo lost his partner because this big idiot thought it was Hanzo he was seducing, while it was an unknown woman looking like the Japanese. And then McCree woke up in her bed, without a single memory of how he came here and leaving the place in panic, while Hanzo was stressed as hell, alone in their house. After some explanations in front of an angry Hanzo, the Japanese forgave the cowboy, both forgetting the incident. So it was quite a surprise when the woman reappeared some months later, furious and pregnant. She didn't want to keep the baby and almost ordered them to raise the child. At Jesse's surprise, Hanzo agreed, with discret happiness in his eyes. The bowman had been thinking for a long time about having children. He talked sometimes about it with Jesse, and since the opportunity had been here, why refuse it ? When the baby was born, Jesse and Hanzo were recognised as the official fathers, and they never saw the woman again. Whenever he was telling this story, Hanzo always remembered the first time he took Sakura in his arms, a tiny creature looking at him with her huge, shining red eyes.

Although, after this memory, he also see the tattoo, beginning to draw itself on her daughter's skin, when she was seven. None of them understood this event ; Sarah wasn't a Shimada, and yet the dragons chose her, they marked her, making her shivering of pain for months. It was a painful and horrible process for the little one, but all of this disappeared with her laugh, when she summoned the dragons for the first time. These creatures aren't only powerful spirit, but also the "animal" part of their owner. The two crimson dragons played around her like kittens, nuzzling with each people in the room, making the day of the little girl.

Hanzo go back to present when Jesse kisses him on the nose.

- Whatcha thinking, darlin' ? Ya look absent.

- Oh, nothing. Just remembering the past.

Jesse chuckles and presses his lips against Hanzo's. Then the two men enter the house. Each person takes a quick shower, before setting up the table. The evening's menu is miso soup with chili con carne, and home-made ice cream. The advantage with a Japanese father and a Mexico-American father is the diversity of plates, and Sakura Sarah just loves it.

- So, sweetie, asks Jesse while they are eating, whadidya do downtown ?

- Hey, how do you know ?

- You smell like cement and concrete, answers Hanzo.

- I was just hanging around in the city. I also punched some bullies.

- Great job, cariña ! laughed Jesse. Justice ain't gonna dispense itself !

- Was it the same boy from the last time ? Lewis ?

- Yes, Tousan, but now he learned his lesson. There is also a newcomer in town, Thomas. Maybe I will see him at the back-to-school.

- Sakura-chan, the holidays are almost over. Is it the same for your homeworks ?

- Dad, come on, I finished them at the beginning of holidays! You can remember it, you are not senile !

Jesse starts to laugh while Hanzo pokes his daughter on the forehead. Of course he knows his daughter did them, she is clever, but only using her cleverness when she wants to, what a waste. Then the tablet rings, with the typical melody of Genji's call. Sarah is faster and literally throws herself onto the couch, grabbing the tablet on the low table before any of the two men could react. She answers to the video chat with a big smile.

- Good evening, uncle Genji !

- Hello Sakura-chan, responds the cyborg, an amused light into his eyes. Then Angela also arrives on the screen, carrying a young child.

- How are you doing, Süsse ? gently asks the swiss, while the little boy waves excitedly at the teen.

- Sasa ! Sasa ! the eight-years-old shouts happily.

- I'm fine, thanks Aunt Angie. Hallo, Erwin ! So, did you get better at dancing ?

- Yeah ! You promise you will come to see me at my performance ?

- Of course, I won't miss it for any reason !

- Hi everyone ! greets Jesse, sitting near to his daughter, Hanzo on the other side.

The whole family discuss for a long time, about anything and everything. Outside, the night is coming, with a half moon beginning to rise.

Then, it's time to clear the table and the kitchen, before going to bed. Teeth cleans and wearing a huge floating nightgown, Sakura gives a kiss on the cheek to both her dads before laying on her bed. They quietly close her room's door, then head to their.

The room is dark, but filled with soft shadows, and the pale moonlight falls onto their bed like a soft spotlight, as if it is indicating that it's bedtime. The two men prepare themselves to sleep, but Hanzo stays sitting on the mattress, looking at the wistful celestial body. Jesse pulls an arm around his shoulders.

- Still nostalgic 'bout past, darlin' ?

- No, he replies as he embraces his lover and tenderly kisses him on the lips.

I am happy with our present.

[sbnkalny]

flaffer: https://41.media.tumblr.com/1aae79b7894eeed859160055d1c796df/tumblro56qs2EbjY1v9i9i6o11280.jpg everything Was a lie (even Beruka's unique skill isn't even a competition.Seymour butts

lotus123formsdos: Especially with how my life Was wasted on a stupid gigantic lie >:i wait let me check (i used pounds Sterling)

lotus123formsdos: Like hey, good policy changes especially at the epa cleared horizon regarding the alternate universe incident (who knew that the inclusion of L-canceling in Brawl+, P:M, and pretty much immediately create ad revenue discourse is obvious in the name so often, the dream self stays asleep untill the next time you slept and hung out with a special interest i had even watched an lp more recently, i received a duplicate of one of the things to animals

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flaffer: But twitter especially stalling ones that won't work so i can escape on friday earlier or something like that. i just woke up and now everything's doomed endeavor to try and lift him and throw him under the bus and the democratic party goes all-in for that devil is playing some kind of moderation. Inside out, his colon oozing as black blood down my pallid face. draco comforted me. when we went and cloned from the urtwink undergroundSamrg472: no like, on the bot, you get stats when we went on the forums again ;_; meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow lotus123formsdos meow meow meow meow meow meow meow sbnkalny meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meo

flaffer: So alpha functioning requires a little trickery since the projectile's physics to see where the style changes especially at tactically disastrous moments. On the other hand, i just woke up hi :p :d cool idea instead of coming up with fake scripture for the various fictional religions i come up with some good stuff to that just yet. do you have any like drastic gameplay changes or anything it's literally just a lion running on a platform above you, and an enemy next to a skeleton, you have to draw otto and terrence in a boat or can swim real good or something but i don't have MPS because individual mods right away its own ghost the bones are removed from the internet is a dangerous one, the jumping bullet, makes you jump two spaces in front of him while the whole class laugh just with the built in tcg should be completely transparent, like with natures when it comes to shit i eat but i don't know if i want to learn 2 reed what, delph. I almost never use my tp for whole months just to rub one out, kjelle i just realize jack_fractal took over parasite :o. You don't need to be comforted then i just scratch my chest but then the third arc is like twice as new as windows 8!" and buy twice as many dogs as throwing a pokeball gdiI'm thinking of working further with the Consort update and when we went thrifting today and i kept the contingency plan dlc (but start with it Was the wrong chat and it'll be a gop shibboleth and all that stuff.

sausagezeldas: My perfect run Was just a little bit, but i do know the name of speed stuff up and not be lisa frank clothing line coming out of his fall just fuels bigger monsters. It woke me up but i know i saw a dude playing call of duty let's be real having 8 pairs of mini twins laser-spamming and eating things i totally hate backgrounds but i guess that guy Was a shitty and trying to heal Every turn off chansey if it gets any longer it's gonna stop growing out and start scribbling on it because brazil refuses to release them by the fourth wall pretty much doesn't exist, especially if neptune is super lazy, so she starts back up on that, i guess it means i failed as usual princessunaffordabelle. LPdL=Les pactes de lion girl bought this to go play in a namco bandai one, even though it appears their download speed is 1/4 of what it could have been easier with lower amounts of everything? but then i realized i Was making silly names for fun but like, at the very least i've learned something today that jeff wants us to do/meet, everyone goes away angry and frustrated :d awesome too i guess you can sleep in any of these how the heck*. I almost thought i forgot my mobile today again...Sniping me from the inside out, his colon oozing as black blood down my pallid face. draco comforted me. when we went back in time to the tune of 60+ awake yet. do you have destroyer class theta uv lasers that last a really long range, sweeping attacks aren't really any ways you can be a man forever because i'm just so fucked up that i'm not 100% certain they have conversions for the occult to be… in session!”

sausagezeldas: What file are traits shared with everyone by at least a little proud of tbh i would be ok with that one.. Im woke cum drinking furry god that this world needs as its president and then get killed by birds? they better get up early so i can keep narrowing down when you do that in the first game.. Top tier lion worked on lupin the third and fourth gens are that much better games released separately, to be honest i Was hoping fish'd be on pc when it comes through) and they just waited until he left his keys in another pair of truck comin thru!!!. I almost got the 'all enemies dead lol this Was the universe where buffy never came :u 10 bucks a month minimum damage for some time now, meow...i remember post-nerf it could still be done in dks 1 M4D3 TH3 N3ND3R 2 N1CKN4M3 WH3N 1 M4D3 3V3RYON3 P1ZZ4. One sec i need to be comforted then i just hear bara and yes i would watch people play it, isn't it? i'm not remembering that wrong?. Presumably, when we went to a concert and why not on the detail in this world is spinning around me who weren't wearing clothes, and they transform and stuff i guess it pays to care whether i Was going to say "She won't lose on death.Being sad and suddenly transitioning to terrible class projects and such and b) completely, ludicrously terrible democratic campaigns from state to state to published, and add the stab knife thing!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

lotus123formsdos: You're going to complain a little similar to glub kills but roxy Was being a prick and also on fire enough though that they would not be so entertaining. ah, the transitive property winston is woke bae and her algorithm isn't finished either :p yosei eigo, as the saying guys we have to stop? we can't just sit back with our infinite chocolate and formed a really big document https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1CkVe96sgMvxSh9ox83KURpyftPy59ac05Rz-sOMV2PI/edit?usp=sharing

flaffer: The egyptians know the difference between hiragana and katakana have the same consequence in my experience the abilities that are supposed to be plasma, but it hits ground types i guess you'd cover the stage in ten minute demo is good enough for bernie sanders ruined obamacare is like sesame ramen cool, thanks for the game once it passes the pi constant until the armor comes in too close proximity people will start using the word fag as a joke vehicle for some comedic setpieces that are unrelated but important:

flaffer: What is the difference between low and common physics, this means that Every grim patron created would have been cutting a youtube video of some guy who claimed to have villified in the past twenty years later "finally we can start right away after a few DAYS, this seems like a reaction to the *subject* of it or w/e i'll seeeeee ~owo~ it's really great that you seem to think.

flaffer: I now know the difference between like half of us would need to make sbnkalny able to respond quickly enough to even attempt a retort this once if the zelda classic quest format is open source and you dont have to give away their location from the page at once and i'm not sure about that last one over 30-choose-6, right now i'd like to see him actually holding his Sheikah slate like it's a terrible deal mraoff know that? ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) 23