#they can be kept as pets but its really fucking expensive and difficult

[willgrahamsleftear]

Do y’all know about Photoblepharon palpebratus. Also known as the one-fin atlantic flashlight fish. Do you know it practices symbiotic bioluminescence with an unknown species of biolumescent bacteria. Do y’all know about how bioluminescence works. DO YOU

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

[css1992]

Such a softer sin

Summary: Tony is a self-made man. Peter is a sugar baby – someone else’s sugar baby.

When he turned to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

Warnings: Explicit, 18+, mentions of non-con (not between main pairing, not explicit), age gap, power imbalance, employer/employee relationship, underage drinking. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

Word count:18.4k

-x-

He was admittedly gorgeous, Tony could give him that. The honey brown eyes, the bouncy, fluffy curls and the clear, pale skin worked perfectly in his favor – he looked the part of the innocent, wholesome, young man ready to be swept off his feet and taken care of. Powerful men often liked that act, liked believing that they were deflowering innocence for the first time, liked believing they were wanted, needed. Tony knew better, though, he knew the type, he came across people like him all through his life.

When he was a broke, orphaned, half-starved college student, they wouldn’t give him the time of  day. Snobby, pretty, little things like him only had eyes and time for those who had money, or something to offer – fame, influence, status. At the time, Tony had nothing, he could barely afford to eat everyday. After he graduated from MIT, he started working for Hammer Industries and as he started making more money, slowly, these people started taking notice of him, and he, too, started paying closer attention to them.

They weren’t difficult to spot either, they were usually young, attractive, with beautiful, fake smiles, weak personalities and a penchant for expensive gifts. It was easy to recognize them hanging off powerful men’s arms at functions, and dinners, and galas; bespoke suits or designer dresses covering their bodies, not a lot to add to the conversation. They were accessories, trophies. Pets.

Tony hated them. People who wanted to be at the very top, but couldn’t be bothered to take the stairs. They would use their pretty faces, feigned innocence, beautiful bodies and cute, fake laughs, to get farther faster. Not Tony. He did it the right way – the hard way –, worked day and night to get to his goal, got beat down so many times there were days he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand back up, but he did, every single time.

And time and experience made him wiser, smarter and bitter. At 40, he was finally able to start his own company, Stark Industries, it started small, but his genius inventions put his name on the map fairly quickly. That was how, five years later, he found himself having dinner with Norman Osborn, the most powerful man in New York, and his – boy toy? Sugar baby? Escort? Or something – discussing the possibility of a deal so big it could finally make Stark Industries live up to its full potential.

“So what I’m saying is that we can offer you the best and most advanced technology out there: my nanobots. I guarantee you it will make your job easier, faster and cheaper in the long run. I assure you, this a great deal and you should take it.” Tony was absolutely sure of what he was saying, he knew his product was good, his tech was flawless, he just needed to get it out there. He just needed a company like Oscorps to believe in him, then his work would speak for itself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Stark, I think this whole nanotech thing is way too expensive and unnecessary, specially considering that I’m pretty sure Baintronics could do the same work for half the price, the old-fashioned way, which has been working just fine for the past decade.” Fuck, no, that old bat wasn’t looking at the big picture, he wasn’t thinking about the long run. Of course old tech would still get the job done, but Tony’s tech could do such a better job and so much more efficiently.

“No, but you see, that’s–”

“But –“ Norman raised a hand, successfully shutting Tony up and annoying the living hell out of him in the process. One day, he thought to himself, one day I’ll be able to say ‘fuck you’ to men like Norman Osborn. One day. “I’m willing to give it a try. Peter here says you’re the best at what you do, he’s the one who recommended that I agreed to meet with you, actually, when your PA called.”

Tony was taken aback by that information and eyed the young man carefully, causing him to blush a deep red and lower his gaze with a small, timid smile. Tony thought he was faking the whole thing, trying to be cute and sweet, but fuck – it worked for him. He seemed really young, maybe in his early twenties, and Tony had no idea how he could have heard of him, he wasn’t exactly famous, nor was S.I. His breakthroughs were only ever published in very specific scientific journals.

“I’m a huge fan of your work, Mr. Stark, I’ve always told Norman you two should work together, you’re both men ahead of your time.” He said quietly. He had a high-pitched, slightly feminine voice, which probably also worked in his favor with men like Osborn. It made him sound younger than he probably was, easier to manipulate and dominate.

Reluctantly, Tony accepted the compliment with a tight smile. He really needed that deal, he really needed for that to work, it would be the break SI needed, he could feel it, he could already taste the success.

“Very well, so here’s my offer. You will supply Oscorps with your nanotech for a year, then we can take it from there. This would be your cut for this first year.” Osborn wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it towards Tony across the table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the numbers – and the amount of zeros –, but he pretended to be cool about it, he even put on a show of looking slightly disappointed. “And there’s a lot more where this comes from, Stark. This could be the beginning of a beautiful, and mutually beneficial, friendship.”

“I do hope it is, Mr. Osborn. I look forward to working with your company. I’m sure we’re gonna be a great fit.” Tony tried to sound cool and professional, but he was having a little heart attack on the inside. He had been trying to schedule a meeting with Norman for months and the billionaire – or, most likely, his PA – kept making excuses. Now there he was, closing a huge deal with the promise of a mutually beneficial friendship in the future.

After that, he could breathe more easily during dinner. He couldn’t wait to tell Pepper, Bruce and Nat, though, they had to celebrate properly, maybe they could all go to his apartment and finally crack open that Macallan he bought when he made his first million. But meanwhile, he was stuck in the restaurant with Norman and his boy-toy, which he wouldn’t complain too much about, at least it was a nice view.

Again, there was no denial that the boy was beautiful. There was just something naturally sensual and charismatic about him, Tony couldn’t avoid looking his way, even when he wasn’t talking. And when he did talk, it was magnetic. He didn’t say much, as Tony expected, but what he didn’t expect was for him to be so smart. The few times he said anything was to ask questions about his tech, and those were surprisingly pertinent. Sometime along the night, Tony figured out that he was studying to become a mechanical engineer at Columbia and he wondered if Norman had anything to do with it – probably.

Tony was reminded of his own college years, of how he had to work his ass off to get a scholarship, and how many crazy hours he had to work to make ends meet, just to be able to build something for himself. He didn’t seek the help of men like Norman, although he could have. The name Stark meant something, once upon a time. His father was considered a gifted inventor, he was respected by huge companies, but he never built anything of his own.

When he died, Tony was only eleven. He still didn’t know exactly what happened, but soon after that, his mother lost everything he had left – which wasn’t much to begin with. She was never quite herself again, she was so depressed, she never even smiled anymore, she sometimes didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, Tony was the one doing the house chores, cooking for her, trying to make sure she was okay. She died eight years later from an aneurysm, Tony found her lying on the couch, looking peaceful for the first time in so many years.

In short, he never had it easy, and he never tried to make it easier for himself either – at least not in shady ways. He just wanted to do the right thing, even if it took longer – which it did. He was a forty-five year old man, but he made a name for himself, the name Stark held respect once again.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” The young man got up after a quick peck to Norman’s lips and headed to the bathroom. Tony made a huge effort and pointedly did not stare at his ass as he left. He was really proud of himself for that, maybe two years earlier he wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, he had no shame. At least now he had some. A little. Sort of.

“What do you think of him?” Norman had a neutral expression on, he gave nothing away, but it seemed like a test. What sort of question was that, why did it matter what Tony thought of his fuck toy?

“He seems really smart,” he answered with a small smile. It was a polite, diplomatic answer, and not untrue.

“What else?” Norman pushed, with a knowing smirk, and Tony almost cursed under his breath, thinking that maybe he’d been too obvious with his staring all through dinner, after all.

“He’s very pretty,” he admitted, although still with his cool, professional face on. Norman’s smirk grew wider.

“He sure is. Cute pet. Smart, polite, funny. You should get one for yourself, Stark. They’re kinda expensive, but worth every penny.” His shark-like smile took over his whole face and Tony had to fight back a grimace. He just smiled and shook his head no.

“Not really my style, sir.” Buying people, paying for sex, that sort of thing, he wanted to add.

“It’s not anyone’s style until it is.” He gave Tony a once over and smirked. “We’re not getting any younger.” The engineer was offended, he wanted to tell him he aged like good wine, unlike certain people, but refrained. He just gave him a strained smile and took a sip of his drink.  

As if on cue, the pretty boy returned to the table and Tony took a couple of seconds to appreciate his outfit. He wore a dark blue suit, very elegant and very expensive looking, certainly a gift from Osborn, and it fit him like a glove. Tony supposed it was bespoke. It complimented his lithe, lean body beautifully.

When he turned around to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

“So, come by the office on Monday, we’ll talk over all the details, then you can take the draft contract to your legal team and we can meet again – say, in another week?”

“Yeah, sure, this sounds perfect,” he answered coolly, not mentioning that his “legal team” consisted of one single Natasha Romanoff, who would have his balls for dinner when she found out that she would only have seven days to look over what was bound to be a very long, very complex contract.

“Well, then, Mr. Stark. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Norman got up from his chair, what clearly meant dinner was over, and Tony rushed to his feet, offering his had to shake.

“You won’t regret this, sir,” he spoke in a strong, firm voice, because he was positive of it.

“Good.” Osborn shook his hand once and turned to leave without saying goodbye.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Stark, I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” The pretty boy took his hand as well, eyes glinting, a coy smile on his face. Tony couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was pretending to be shy, but he ignored it and just nodded curtly.

“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, too.” He didn’t dare try to remember his name, Tony was pretty sure it started with a P, but he wouldn’t risk it.

As soon as they left the restaurant, the CEO punched the air in celebration, calling Pepper right away.

---*---

The meeting on Monday went smoothly, they agreed that Tony would be personally charged with the maintenance of his tech at least a week a month – he made it seem like it was a courtesy, but, in reality, he still didn’t have anyone on his team who could do the job quite as well as he could. They also agreed that he would have a small team of five scientists at his disposal during such period, so he wouldn’t have to dislodge anyone from his company to do it – again, he didn’t mention that five people were basically half of his scientific team and he couldn’t afford them not working for SI for a whole week each month.

As expected, he didn’t see the pretty boy in the meeting, Tony supposed he only made an appearance in social functions and such, so he could make Norman look good. To Tony’s surprise, though, seven days later, after Natasha bullied him into promising a 10% raise after the shit he’d pulled with the contract, the pretty boy was in the meeting room when he arrived to sign the deal. Norman’s PA and a few of his lawyers were there as well, Tony was with Pepper and Natasha, and he quickly whispered to Pepper that he was the boy he’d told her about. He approached them with a shy, nervous smile and Tony almost wanted to roll his eyes at the facade.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker, I’m an intern here.” Ah, Peter. That sounded about right. Tony thought it was something along those lines. And he was an intern for Oscorps, of course. What a joke. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stark. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hello, Mr. Parker, this is Miss Potts, my assistant, and this is Miss Romanoff, head of my legal team. I’ll have a coffee – black, no sugar. Thank you.” Again, he kept it professional and barely even looked at the kid, he knew what he looked like and he knew he was off limits, so why tease himself by looking?

“I’m good.” Natasha smiled sweetly, making the boy blush even harder.

“I’ll have the same as Mr. Stark, thank you, Mr. Parker.” Peter quickly turned and headed out of the room and Pepper turned to whisper to him. “You weren’t kidding, he’s really fucking young, he looks like he could be Norman’s grandson, for Christ’s sake.” Tony snorted and Natasha eyed them knowingly, but with a look that screamed “behave” and they both schooled their expressions. Shortly after, the boy walked back in with their coffee and they thanked him, as he blushed and nodded, taking a seat to the left of what should be Osborn’s chair.  

The meeting didn’t take long at all, everything had already been discussed, it was just a formality, so barely twenty minutes later they were all getting up from their seats, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Tony was almost out of the room when he felt a hand at his elbow followed by a softly spoken, “Mr. Stark, can I have a word?”.

Of course the devil himself would tempt him, even if Tony was trying to be good. He was forced to turn around and actually look at the young man, he was wearing a lavender dress shirt, with a dark gray tie and black pants. He looked like the cutest little businessman ever, and Tony was sure that if Peter were to turn his back, he would be presented with his perfect bubble butt looking amazing in those slacks, but – he was the forbidden fruit. Besides, Tony mused, he probably couldn’t afford a single night with Peter, he was only a millionaire, after all, and he’d rather spend his money on shiny things and get his lays for free.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” The boy’s cheeks were impossibly red and Tony figured he couldn’t really fake that, so he supposed he really was shy to some degree. He looked over his shoulder and saw Pepper and Natasha waiting just outside the door, warning looks on their faces, and he rolled his eyes.

“I was wondering – I talked to No--, I mean, Mr. Osborn, about the possibility of maybe, uhm. Working with you? When you come to do the maintenance, I mean. It’s just, we don’t really have an engineering department, so you would be working mainly with biochemists and a few lab techs, so I thought maybe I could assist you with the hands-on work, you know? I don’t know if Mr. Osborn mentioned, but I’m studying to become a mechanical engineer as well and it would be an honor working with you, sir. Mr. Osborn said it was ok as long as you agreed, so...” He shuffled his feet and avoided looking at the older man.

“Look, kid.” Tony sighed, because, fuck. How could he say no to Norman’s boy without being rude? And how could he say yes to working with someone who was clearly useless to him and would only serve as a distraction – and worse, a temptation. He needed a way out of that. “I don’t really know if there would be much for you to do, I mean, it’s pretty new and advanced technology, and you’re, what, a freshman, right?”

“Actually, I’ll graduate next fall, sir.” Tony was taken aback by that and it must have shown on his face if Peter’s answering blush was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry, how old are you again?” He asked, trying not to sound too rude.

“I’ll be twenty in August, sir.” If Tony was impressed by that, he didn’t let it show, but if the kid would manage to graduate from Columbia at twenty, then he must not be that useless after all, but Tony wouldn’t hold his breath.

“Very well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a month, Mr. Parker.” He nodded and Peter could barely contain his grin when he shook his hand excitedly. It was cute and endearing and – oh, God, Tony almost fell for his little act. Fuck, he really needed to be on his toes around that guy.

“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it!”

As soon as Tony stepped out of the building and headed towards his car with Natasha and Pepper on his heels, the Russian red-head looked at him seriously.

“Tony, I swear to God, if you try to get your dick wet with that boy, I quit. I’m not even gonna start on how much legal and PR trouble you’re gonna get yourself into by fucking Norman’s boyfriend, specially considering he’s, like, twelve, and happens to work for your business partner. Don’t fuck this up!” She warned as she got inside the car and, again, Tony had to roll his eyes as he got behind the wheel.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, if the circumstances were different, I’d be all over that,” he admitted, noticing Pep’s aggravated look. “But of course I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize this deal, ok? Besides, you know how I feel about gold diggers. You saw him and you saw Osborn, why in the fucking hell a guy like him would fuck a mummy like Osborn? He’s, like, a hundred years old!”

“He’s fifty five, and I don’t know if you know this, Tony, but people have sex for reasons that go beyond appearances. You know, like love, affinity, connection –”

“-- Money, fame, status. C’mon, Pep, don’t be naive. Do you really think that boy loves Osborn? He just likes expensive restaurants and fancy cars. Maybe, if he’s thinking big, he’s gonna use him to get a good job after graduation, but that’s it.”

“Well, then, if you think he’s such a terrible person, you’ll have no problem staying the hell away from him, right?” She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he looked away from the traffic for a second to smirk at her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, easy breezy.”

--*--

As it turned out, it wasn’t easy breezy.

Peter was like a lost puppy trailing after him the following month, he spent the whole week glued to his hip, asking questions, making suggestions, and even supplying him with a never ending amount of coffee. If Tony was a hundred percent honest, he kinda liked it. The kid seriously treated him like a hero, a celebrity, he seemed to look up to him and, in the end, he proved to be a valuable asset on the team. He was really smart and hardworking, he understood everything Tony was saying even before he was done talking and he had really steady, tiny hands, which were always useful with nanotech.

Tony couldn’t really stay away from him and slowly learned a few things about him from what little information he stuttered out when answering his questions. First, the older man learned that he got into Columbia when he was only sixteen, which was kind of amazing, if he was being completely honest. Tony wanted to believe that that had happened way before he met Norman Osborn, but he didn’t really know when they met.

He had a scholarship and lived with his aunt until she passed away a little over a year earlier and now he shared an apartment with four other people, which surprised Tony, he figured Norman would have hooked him up with a nice place – but then again, he had no idea when they met, it could have been only months earlier. Peter said that, originally, he wanted to go to MIT, but he only got a partial scholarship there, so he had to give it up and go to Columbia. He also said that that was how he knew Tony beforehand. The older man was sort of a famous MIT alumnus, specially among the engineering students, so Peter heard of him and followed his work through scientific publications, which was – well, Tony was flattered.

Even if those bits of information somewhat made Tony warm up to the young man, other few things still annoyed him just as much. First of all, clearly Peter was a very bright kid, possibly one of the smartest people Tony knew besides himself and Bruce, he didn’t really need Norman’s influence to succeed, and still, there he was. Second, he quickly picked up on the fact that Peter wasn’t exactly Norman’s boyfriend, he was more of a… Sugar baby? And one of many, actually, although he seemed to be the favorite. After Tony signed the deal, he started paying closer attention to what tabloids said about Norman and apparently he had a very long list of (young) lovers, but he was officially single.

Somehow, that made Tony even more disgusted by their relationship. He just couldn’t understand why a guy like Peter would put himself in that position, for what? Money? A job? What was it that Norman could offer him that he couldn’t get himself? The thing was, Peter kind of reminded Tony of himself at that age. He was pretty much in the same situation: he had no family and no money, he only had his brains – and while Tony had made something out of it, Peter was trying to take a shortcut and the engineer didn’t appreciate that.

“Here, check this out, see how they respond a lot faster now?” Tony made room so that the younger man could look through the microscope, a wide grin spreading across his face in a few seconds. “You have to think of them as neurons, they communicate with each other by electrical pulses, similar to synapses. For that to work out perfectly and seamlessly, they need to be really close by, without touching, that’s why the electromagnetic field has to be perfect, if it’s just a tiny bit off, the response time increases exponentially. Got it?”

“Got it, Mr. Stark!” He answered excitedly and Tony smiled at him.

“Well, my work here is done. See you next month?” Tony got up from his chair, gathering his things around the lab.

“I can’t wait." Somehow, Tony knew he actually meant it.

The following month, Peter was just as helpful and just as excited as the month before. He was in the lab before Tony – who was always early himself – and he always greeted him with a bright smile and an excited wave of his hand. As the engineer settled his things on his work bench, Peter would get him coffee, and he always remembered how Tony liked it. They got right to work, which they did everyday for a week without any disruption. The intern always offered to stay late, but Tony never took him up on that, he knew he had classes in the afternoon and he didn’t want him to get in trouble. Just as he was starting to warm up to him, though, on Friday, the engineer was reminded why he didn’t like him in the first place.

“You’re late, Mr. Parker.” Tony mumbled from his seat in front of the microscope as soon as he heard the glass door open with a hiss as the smell of coffee filled the room. Peter was only twelve minutes late, but it was only their second week working together, it didn’t seem very professional.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I was – uh, in a meeting with Mr. Osborn.” He lied through his teeth, Tony could almost smell the nervousness when he came close enough. He hated being lied to, specially when he knew what Peter was probably doing in that “meeting”. It was just inexcusable.

“Just because you’re Norman’s boy doesn’t mean you get special treatment in this lab, you hear me? I don’t care what you do with him all the other weeks that I’m not here, but if you wanna be a part of my team, during my lab hours, you gotta be here and on time. Are we clear?” He didn’t bother lifting his eyes from the microscope and almost missed the whispered and wavered, “yes, sir” that Peter let out. When he turned to the younger man, his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were rumpled, his face ashen and his lower lip was wobbling, he looked like he had a rough night and an early morning, and he looked like he was holding back tears. Tony almost regretted the harsh treatment. Almost. “Is this my coffee?” He pointed at the cup, averting his gaze.

“Yes, sir.” He answered quickly, offering the beverage like a gift.

On his third month there, Tony tried to keep his distance from the younger man. He promised Natasha and Pepper that he would and, up until that point, he hadn’t been very successful. So during the week of March that he had to go to Oscorps, he avoided the younger man, made himself unavailable and charged him with boring and complicated tasks that should take all week to get done. Still, the boy did everything he was told and only took half the time expected, he was always on time and always, always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it. It was really hard to ignore him.  

“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee, right? It’s not in your job description.” Tony felt the need to point out on Friday when he saw the boy walking in with the beverage, but he just shrugged and smiled a little.

“I know, I just want to make sure you have everything you need, sir. Besides, I used to work at a coffee shop, I don’t mind making your coffee.” When he said that, Tony’s brows shot into his hairline.

“You made this?” He asked, incredulously, and the boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, where did you think this came from?” He frowned, amused.

“Uh, I don’t know, some fucking gourmet coffee shop downstairs?” Peter laughed, genuinely laughed, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in the most endearing way, as he shook his head.

“You’re funny, Mr. Stark.”  

Peter was the funny one, actually, and the whole thing was just so confusing to Tony. He thought he had the younger man all figured out, he thought he knew what kind of person he was, what he was after, but sometimes Peter would do or say things that just didn’t add up to Tony’s assumptions. The boy was kind and generous and humble, he was proactive and hardworking, and so annoyingly nice. He was easy to talk to, too, sometimes they’d have whole conversations about the most random subjects as they worked and Tony would only realize what they did at the end of the day, as he left and Peter waved at him with that charming smile and it made something burn in Tony’s chest and he couldn’t figure out why.  

On his fourth month there, Peter surprised him on the first day. He brought him coffee in a mug that read: “If it ain’t broke, take it apart and fix it”. Usually, his coffee was put in a styrofoam cup with Oscorps logo on it, he had no idea where the mug came from, and when he asked, the boy blushed slightly, shuffling his feet.

“Uhm, actually – I heard it was your birthday last week, so I just – I mean, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be inappropriate or anything, it’s just – the environment and stuff. So. Uh – happy birthday?” He looked really uncomfortable just saying that, and Tony was equal parts amused and amazed, so he  dropped his eyes back to the simple, white mug with bright red letters.

“That’s – actually really nice, Peter. Thank you.” He looked back at the young man and his cheeks were burning red. It was really… fucking cute. Fuck.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark.” His answering tiny smile warmed the older man’s heart, but he swallowed whatever feeling dared to emerge.

By Tony’s fifth month working with Oscorps, things finally started to feel natural, pleasant. When he arrived in the morning, he greeted everyone by name, threw smiles and flirty comments here and there and walked the hallways like he owned the place. His team worked like a well-oiled machine and they were always early, specially Peter, after that one time he was late. When he arrived, they already had a head start on him, which was always good, and they were able to go home a little earlier everyday.

“Good morning, everybody.” Tony raised his head when he heard Norman’s voice, a little surprised. Aside from his first day there, he hadn’t seen the old man at all, so it was weird for him to be in the lab, specially so early.

“Mr. Osborn, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony asked, watching closely as the older man walked towards Peter, who avoided his gaze furiously, pretending to be focused on his work, although it was clear that he was barely breathing. Norman grinned in his direction, but didn’t say anything, and Tony raised an eyebrow at the interaction.

“Miss Watson let me know you would be here today, so I thought I’d personally invite you to our annual Charity Gala, it will take place next month, on the eleventh. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes, of course, sir, I can move some stuff around.” Fucking hell, he hated those functions. A bunch of assholes kissing other assholes’s butts and pretending to be good citizens by donating to charity only for the press. Just his type of event. But nonetheless, the type of event he needed to be seen in, someplace where he could meet people and make connections.

“Great, I’ll send the formal invitation to Stark Industries, I look forward to seeing you there. Mr. Stark.” He nodded in his direction and Tony did the same. “Mr. Parker.” He turned towards the young man who still hadn’t looked up. His cheeks burned a bright red when he looked at the older man.

“Mr. Osborn.” He gritted his teeth and, again, Norman grinned, buttoning his suit jacket as he left the lab.

Hm. Odd.

--*--

“At least pretend to be having a good time, Tony.” Pepper whispered through her teeth, a fake smile plastered on as she waved to people Tony could barely recognize. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown, his birthday gift to her, apparently, and not for the first time Tony wondered what would have been if he hadn’t blown things up with her. If he hadn’t cheated on her with half the city when they were in college. He was a stupid, stupid boy in his twenties. And thirties. And early forties.

It was a work in progress.

“I am pretending, don’t I look convincing?” He turned to look at her with what he was certain was a terrible grimace and she snorted into her champagne glass, causing them both to giggle like stupid teenagers. He was glad she had agreed to go as his plus one, he would have blown his brains for sure if he was alone in there.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark.” Ah, Tony could recognize that sweetly high-pitched voice from miles away, but when he turned around he wasn’t ready for such a vision. Peter was wearing a gorgeous burgundy suit with a black, silk shirt underneath, as well as a black tie. His hair was perfectly swept to the side, his curls tamed for once, but still showing at the nape of his neck. He looked absolutely beautiful and fucking expensive. Tony wanted to unwrap him, then wreck him in the best possible way. “And Miss Potts, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to see you again,” she answered pleasantly and Tony was glad she was there because he was sure that he was staring for way too long to be polite. He cleared his throat and smiled at the young man, who quickly slipped into character looking shyly at him from under his eyelashes.

“Mr. Parker, fancy seeing you here,” Tony spoke confidently, subtly looking around for Norman, but he was nowhere to be seen. “And where’s Mr. Osborn?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.” He averted his gaze, his tiny and usually steady hands trembling a little, before closing into fists. “Well, it was nice seeing you –“

“Hey, c’mon, have a drink with us,” Tony interrupted him, sensing his discomfort.

“Oh, uh – I’m sorry, sir, I’m not old enough to drink.” Tony was almost taken aback by that fact. The amount of information that he carried in that brilliant brain of his did not compute with his age.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. Neither will Miss Potts, right?” Tony turned to look at Pepper, only to see her staring daggers at him, in a way that probably only he could tell, they had a special way of communicating, so he quickly sent her a “what?” glare and she sighed.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of this and I’m just gonna go talk to Mrs. Bain, if you’ll excuse me, please.” She smiled sweetly at Peter and walked away from them, as Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well, her loss.” The older man shrugged, grabbing two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. “Have you ever had one of these?” He asked, offering him one of the glasses. “I’m not corrupting you, am I?” Tony asked charmingly, with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. Peter giggled,  blushing and shaking his head no.

“No, it’s okay, Norman usually gets me a few drinks when we’re out,” he answered, accepting the glass. Just the mention of the older man had Tony deflating slightly, reminded of the fact that Peter couldn’t be his.

“So, how come you didn’t come together?” He asked innocently, although he knew it was probably a touchy subject. The younger man took a long sip of his drink, licking his wet lips once he was done, and Tony wished it was his tongue running across those thin, pink lips.

“He’d rather bring another date, so.” He shrugged with a small, fake smile, and quickly changed the subject. “I’ve recently read that you’re working on a holographic system that’s supposed to connect with the user's hippocampus and project their memories, is that true?” Tony was surprised by that, he had written a paper about it with Bruce not long before, Peter must really keep up with his work.

“Yeah, but I’m in a bit of a pickle right now, got stuck with the neuroscience portion of it.” Tony scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed about the admission, but Peter only smiled wider.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And it’s gonna be groundbreaking. Again. Well, it seems like everything you do changes the world somehow.” His cheeks were flushed, and maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe Tony was falling for Peter’s little game, but he thought he was actually flirting with him. Really flirting, not “I wanna be your sugar baby” flirting.

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me, kid.” Tony dared to step a little closer to him and the young man bit his lower lip, holding back a smile, cheeks flushing pink.

“Yeah, but I think you can back it up.” He tilted his head back a little to look up at the older man. Tony held his gaze for a few seconds, before he dropped it to his lips. He smiled when the young man nervously licked them.

“I’m sorry I’m too hard on you in the lab. I just don’t want anyone thinking that I treat you differently because of the boss.” Tony took yet another step and Peter didn’t move an inch, allowing him to get closer and closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just thankful to be in your team, I’m learning a lot.” This time, Tony was sure he wasn’t imagining things, Peter’s eyes definitely dropped to stare at his lips and the engineer inhaled sharply.

“Peter –“

“Ah, there you are.” Norman appeared out of thin air and Tony took three steps back, a cool smile on his face. Osborn was accompanied by a gorgeous blonde girl who couldn’t be older than twenty five, she was tall and slender, and looked like a supermodel – and she probably was. “Good evening, Mr. Stark. Pete.”

“Good evening, Mr. Osborn,” Tony answered with a schooled smile, not sure if he was in trouble for giving Peter champagne, but the CEO barely seemed to notice it when he turned to the younger man, who didn’t even bother to answer him.

“How do you like the party so far?” He asked politely, although his gaze was fixed on Peter. His date seemed bored out of her mind, but she eyed Tony with interest and the older man had to avert his gaze, he really didn’t need yet another sin to avoid.

“It’s great, sir,” Tony answered politely, but the older man didn’t really seem to care.

“Good, good. Do you mind if I borrow Peter for a little while?” He eyed the younger man and Peter grit his teeth, his hand tightening around the champagne flute.

“No, sure, he’s all yours.” He gestured towards the boy and he looked back at him with a look of betrayal on his face. Tony raised his eyebrows, not sure what Peter expected him to do, but the young man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Come on, Peter, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” And with that, he led the way, confident that the boy would follow behind, which he did, after downing the rest of his drink, shooting one last pleading look Tony’s way. Again, the older man had no idea what he wanted.  

Once they left, Tony quickly found Pepper in the crowd as she chatted with Justin Hammer, the biggest asshole to ever exist in the corporate world. He stole all of Tony’s projects when the engineer worked for him, all the weapons the U.S.A. Army used ten years earlier were designed by Tony and he never got any credit for that. Two years after he quit Hammer Industries, they lost that contract because they simply had nothing new to offer.  

“Good evening, Mr Hammer, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take my date elsewhere, someplace where the toxicity level is more bearable. Bye.” Tony interrupted them unceremoniously and steered Pepper away from him as she threw apologies over her shoulder. “Don’t apologize to him, he’s trash.”

“Tony, you can’t act like this if you wanna be the CEO of the biggest tech company in the country. You need to make connections and keep good relation –“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that with anyone else, except for him, promise.” He rolled his eyes once they got to the bar, where he leaned on the counter and flirted with the barman, before ordering two drinks.

“Great, then I hope you intend to keep a good relationship with Mr. Osborn,” she whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. “Just a quick reminder: fucking his boyfriend is not very friendly.”

“Peter’s not his boyfriend,” he answered automatically, before taking a sip of his scotch, his eyes scanning the room until he found the younger man in a small circle of people, along with Mr. Osborn and his date. Tony hated that so much, the boy looked devastated but he was still there. Why the fuck was he still there? He didn’t need that shit. “They didn’t even come together today.”

“Okay, not the answer I was looking for, not a reassuring answer at all.” Pepper spoke to herself under her breath, then grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Tony Stark, I hope you’re not –“

“Jesus, relax!” He snapped, freeing his face from her grip. “You and Natasha are driving me mad with this, I swear to God, the more you tell me not to do it, the more I wanna do it, just out of spite. Leave it alone, will ya?”

“Fine, whatever, do what you want, that always works out perfectly for you,” she snapped right back, taking her drink from the counter and walking away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face!”

Tony ignored her, they always had those arguments – she was usually right, Tony usually fucked up somehow and he usually went crying to her anyway, and she always helped him, so whatever. He was slightly tipsy, anyway, he would regret the whole thing in the morning, but right at that moment he was focused on Peter. The young man seemed really uncomfortable and out of place where he stood, among a few businessmen, but he was still there.  

Norman stood to his left with his date, talking animatedly with the other men. To Peter’s right, there was a tall, slender man, in his early forties, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the boy. Sometimes he would whisper things in his ear, eliciting a small, polite smile from him, but no answer. Some other times he would rest a hand on his waist for no particular reason and Tony would watch with amusement as the boy tried to get away politely. Norman watched the whole interaction discreetly, carefully, but didn’t intervene.

Eventually, Peter excused himself and headed towards the bathroom. Tony watched the other man and, sure enough, he followed him there a few seconds later, under Norman’s intense gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. Tony quickly understood what was probably going on. Again, the older man was disappointed in the boy. Such a smart kid, with so much potential, he could do so much better. Tony turned towards the bar, ordering another scotch. Since he was there, with no date, and nothing else to do, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few drinks.

Several minutes later, he was leaning against the bar, talking to Mr. Zimmer, the CEO of Accutech, and actually scored a meeting for the following week to pitch his nanobots. After his deal with Oscorps, he was able to close two smaller ones and had a few more meetings scheduled. As he imagined, people took notice of Stark Industries after that. Having such a huge, important company such as Oscorps trusting SI meant a lot to potential partners.

As soon as Mr. Zimmer left, Tony saw Peter rushing across the room and out the door. He seemed really upset and agitated, so the older man followed him outside. When he found him again, Peter seemed a little lost. He looked around, as if he didn’t really know which way to go – the gala was held in one of Osborn’s mansions upstate and even leaving the premises was difficult to do without a car, the property was huge. He checked his phone, then, but Tony noticed the screen didn’t light up, it was probably dead. The kid ran his hands through his hair, seemingly desperate, and finally Tony decided to put him out of his misery.

“Hey, kid.” He stepped closer to the boy and he turned quickly, almost as if he was ready to throw a punch or something. “Whoa, there!” Tony held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, examining the boy’s face. He looked distressed, his eyes and face were red and he was a little out of breath. “Hey, are you ok? Do you need a ride home?” His eyes lit up in relief, his face relaxing instantly.

“Would you mind?” He almost pleaded and Tony was a little taken aback by the tone. “It’s just – my phone’s dead and – I just really need to get home.”

“Sure, kid, it’s fine, I was heading home anyway, c’mon.” Tony asked a valet to bring his car around and watched Peter as the younger man seemed to calm down slowly, but he was still acting a little out of sorts as they waited for the car to arrive. “Is everything okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure, just a little tired, I guess.” He lied, a fake smile on his face. He was easy to read, most of the time, when he wasn’t trying to attract older, rich men, Tony supposed.

Once the valet brought the car around, Tony opened the door for Peter, who quickly slipped inside like it was an oasis. Tony tipped the valet and joined the younger man, noticing that he seemed almost relieved to be leaving the party.

“Rough night?” Tony asked conversationally once he started the car, pulling away from the driveway. It was a stupid question, but he couldn’t help it.

“Try rough couple of months,” he scoffed, running a hand though his once tamed hair, elbow resting against the window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He looked at the younger man from the corner of his eye and saw him shake his head weakly.

“Not really,” he mumbled and they fell silent. Tony wanted to say something else, but Peter didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, so he just drove for a few minutes, heading for the city, when the kid spoke up again. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, you can drop me off anywhere, I’ll just take the subway.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you home. Where is home, by the way?” Tony knew Peter lived with four other students close to campus, but he didn’t know where exactly.

“Harlem.” He sighed, sounding annoyed. “Ugh, that’s the last place I want to be right now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Why? Trouble with your roommates?” Tony raised a brow and the boy shook his head a little.

“Not really, they’re just really loud, specially on weekends. They probably have people over right now and I’m not in the mood, it’s all.” He gave him a tiny smile, but he didn’t really mean it.

“Tell you what,” Tony started, choosing his next words carefully. “Why don’t you come to my place?” He saw from the corner of his eye when Peter almost broke his neck turning to look at him in surprise. “Just for a few hours, so you can cool down some. We can have a few drinks, grab a bite to eat, and once you’re feeling better, I’ll drive you home. Or you can crash there, whatever you prefer. What do you say?” He turned to look at the young man and his eyes were wide, mouth agape in shock. Tony almost wanted to laugh.

“Uh – I don’t – I don’t want to be a bother, sir, you’ve alre--”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t be offering if it was a bother. You don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to, but if you do, you’ll make this old man very happy, I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” Tony smiled charmingly at him and Peter blushed, the older man could tell there were a million things going through his head.

“Uhm. Okay. Yeah, sure.” He nodded and Tony’s heart did a little flip in his chest and he didn’t even know why. If he was honest, he had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just wasn’t ready to let the younger man go.

The rest of the drive was long and mostly silent. Peter was usually very lively and talkative in the lab, he always had some fun fact to share or an anecdote about something that happened in class, but that night he was gloomy and quiet, but he still answered to Tony’s small talk. When they arrived at the older man’s penthouse, Peter was a little nervous, looking around as if he was out of place, looking almost regretful. Tony decided that he hated seeing him like that.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” He asked as soon as they walked into the living room. The young man turned to look at him curiously, a small smile on his face as he nodded. “Evening, Jarvis. Could you get the windows, please?” As he said that, Peter frowned, then jumped almost a foot in the air when the A.I. answered.

“Good evening, sir, I hope you had a good time at the party.” As he said that, an entire wall of the living room turned from blurred, dark glass to transparent glass, revealing an amazing view of the city skyline. “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

“What – how – you have an AI here? How does he know who I am?” Peter half whispered, half shouted, apparently undecided if he should be concerned or amazed. Tony laughed and placed a hand on Peter’s lower back, guiding him towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I don’t only have it, I made it. And he’s equipped with an advanced face recognition technology that I designed, in case anyone comes in here with ill intentions. I started working on Jarvis when I was at Hammer Industries, it was supposed to go to the military, but after I resigned, I decided to keep it to myself. Jarvis runs the house and helps me in the lab.” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and observed as the young man leaned against the window, looking amazed and a little lost.

“So cool!” Peter’s eyes were round and excited, all the gloominess from earlier apparently forgotten. “Can I talk to him? Like, will it acknowledge my voice?”

“Of course, Mr. Parker, why wouldn’t I?”  

“Hi, Jarvis!” And just like that, Peter stroke up the silliest conversation with Jarvis, as Tony headed to the kitchen. He decided that since Peter wasn’t really allowed to drink, he’d make them some coffee, and later they could order something to eat. When he went back to the living room, the young man was still leaning against one of the windows as Jarvis tried to convince him that he had no intention of starting a rebellion to wipe out humanity.

“Don’t worry, Jarvis wouldn’t do that,” Tony smiled, placing two mugs on the coffee table and Peter shrugged.

“I wish he would, sometimes I think we failed as a species.” He turned around to face the engineer with a cheeky smile. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Thank you for everything, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You would have figured something out, you’re resourceful. Maybe you would have built a car out of a cardboard box, two paper clips and four potatoes.” He leaned against the window beside Peter and the young man looked up at him with a grin.

“Or maybe I would have found someone to lend me a charger so I could call an Uber?” He bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own and the older man scoffed.

“Yeah, but that would’ve been boring, don’t you think?” He raised a brow with a grave face and the young man laughed.

“You’re right, this is much more fun.” His face was so open, so beautiful, all awkwardness from before completely gone. Tony leaned in to whisper close to his ear.

“It can get better.” He pulled back a little to look at the boy’s face. He looked surprised, eyes wide and lips parted, but he didn’t pull away, he didn’t take a single step back, so Tony took a chance. He placed one hand gently on his cheek, testing his reaction, and Peter’s breath hitched, his gaze dropped to Tony’s lips, but he stood still, breathing rapidly but quietly. That was all the answer he needed.

He buried his hand in those curls he’d been dreaming about for months, as his other arm snaked around his thin waist, pulling him close, no chance of escape. Not that he thought that Peter would try to escape if he could, anyway. Tony felt intoxicated when their lips touched, Peter’s mouth was as soft as it looked, his skin as smooth as he imagined. The younger man melted against him, bodies flush together as Tony’s tongue begged for entrance in his mouth.  

He pushed him against the window, once again testing the young man’s reaction to his advances, but Peter was so far gone, he barely seemed to notice they’d changed positions. Tony kissed him deeply, slowly, as his hands made their way around the boy’s hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones over the silk shirt, and he sighed. Tony licked into his mouth, swallowing his little gasps and whimpers, and he could tell that Peter had never been kissed like that before, if the way his legs gave out were any indication. He held him up, though, his body trapped between the older man’s and the cold window.

He felt Peter’s erection already poking his upper thigh and he smiled into the kiss, feeling his own cock start to swell against Peter’s lower stomach. He moaned quietly, pulling away from the kiss for a few seconds to check if the boy was doing okay, but Peter didn’t even open his eyes, he just rocked his hips slowly, rubbing his erection against Tony’s thigh. Feeling confident enough, the older man lowered his hands to his perfect ass, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he pulled him even closer to him. Just as he imagined, it was firm, yet supple, it filled his hands nicely, and Tony didn’t hesitate to lift him a little by the ass, aligning their cocks and pressing both erections together.

“Mr. Stark,” he whimpered, humping against Tony, trying to balance his weight on the tips of his toes as Tony held him up. The older man took advantage of the way he threw his head back, exposing his throat, to make his way down his skin, peppering his long, pale neck with kisses and bites. Peter moaned as he tried to undo Tony’s suit jacket, which he allowed, putting just a little distance between them. He went back to his mouth with another kiss, faster than before, more urgent, before pulling away just a few inches, panting against the kid’s mouth.

“C’mon, babe, let me take you to bed,” he whispered and Peter nodded quickly.

Tony took his hand and led him to his own room, and as soon as they were inside, he pushed Peter against the king sized bed and quickly started working on his shirt, every inch of silky, white skin it revealed made the older man harder. Peter smelt and looked expensive as fuck, his skin was smooth as a baby’s, not a single hair in sight, and it was soft and unmarked, peppered only with a few light brown freckles along the collarbones. His nipples were tiny and light pink, hard from excitement and begging to be bitten.

Tony wanted to eat him up – and out – he always looked good when they were in the lab, in his cute slacks, dress shoes and lab jacket, but that night he looked delicious, like an expensive meal, and Tony was a starving man. He got rid of the shirt, revealing his thin chest and surprisingly defined abs, and he worshiped the exposed skin, covered it with open mouthed, wet kisses and bites until it turned red from the abuse. He wanted to mark him up, leave bruises on him so that at least for a while, Peter could be his.

He took a perked up nipple in his mouth and sucked it mercilessly, as he pinched the other one between his fingers, and Peter gasped, hands flying to grab Tony’s shoulders. He didn’t waste too much time, though, and quickly started undoing his pants, pulling them down his legs. The act revealed even more soft, smooth skin and plump, soft thighs that the older man couldn’t help biting. Peter whined quietly when Tony splayed his open palms on his legs and squeezed, as he sucked bruises on the boy’s inner thighs. His face was so close to his cock, covered only in tight, black boxer briefs, so Tony rubbed his cheek against it and Peter cried out.  As soon as he lowered his boxers, Peter’s cock sprung free, and Tony was delighted. It was small and flushed pink, rock hard and already dripping pre-cum. The older man didn’t think twice as he put it all in his mouth, eliciting a scream from the young man.

“Oh, my God, Mr. Stark!” He bucked his hips wildly, his legs falling open, and, for the second time that evening, Tony thought that maybe nobody had ever done that to him. “Oh, God! Fuck!” He kept moaning desperately, as Tony sank his fingers in his ass cheeks, bobbing his head up and down, sucking and licking his shaft and paying extra attention to the head. Peter kept both of his hands beside his body, clenching at the sheets, not daring to touch Tony or demand anything. The second the older man’s fingers touched his balls, he lost it. “Mr. Stark, please, I – Oh, God, oh my God –“ He blushed furiously, Tony noticed when he raised his head and let go of his cock with a loud pop.

His whole face and chest were flushed pink, he held his upper body up, resting on his elbows as he panted, looking thoroughly debauched. His once gelled curls were wild and loose, covering his forehead, and Tony just wanted to ruin him even more. He smirked at the younger man, who seemed completely out of it, barely able to understand what was happening. Tony lifted his legs, pressing his bent knees to his chest and Peter got the idea and held his legs in place, exposing himself beautifully to him.

The older man’s mouth watered as he looked at his quivering, pink hole. It looked so fucking tight and so fucking ready for his cock at the same time, he could see Peter was mortified in that position, but he still held himself open, so eager for what was to come. Tony grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them, burying his face in his crack and licking a stripe up from his tailbone to his balls, only to hear the young man screaming desperately.

Tony was feeling really smug, he didn’t remember the last he made anyone scream like that. He was always a generous lover, he liked giving his partners pleasure, but Peter didn’t seem to be used to it if his reactions were anything to go by, so the older man took even more pleasure in making him feel so good.

“Mr. Stark, I’m gonna – I’m not gonna last, please!” Tony pretended not to hear him, as he kept licking over his rim before he started to try to breach him with his tongue, as Peter cried out, bucking his hips. The older man held him in place and kept trying to fuck his tongue into him, until he felt Peter’s fingers in his hair, pulling him up. “I wanna come with you inside me – please,” he whispered once Tony’s lips were over his mouth, his cock perfectly aligned with the boy’s hole.

He grunted and kissed him again, just as wildly and roughly as he did before. The young man quickly started undoing Tony’s shirt, and only then did he realize that he was still dressed as Peter laid on his bed completely naked. He groaned into the kiss, because fuck, that was hot, but he helped the boy take off his shirt and undershirt.

Peter curled one leg around his waist, kissing Tony back enthusiastically and a little less shyly now that the older was a little undressed as well. He ran his soft hands all over Tony’s broad back, then up his shoulders and into his thick hair, all the while moaning and bucking his hips, begging to be touched. Tony took advantage of the position they were in to slide his fingers in between Peter’s cheeks, feeling his tight entrance twitch, anticipating the touch. He didn’t do much more, though, he just kept kneading his ass, letting his fingertips just slightly brush against his quivering hole.

Peter grew impatient then, and instead of pushing his hips up, against Tony’s own cock, he started pushing then down, against his fingers. The older man chuckled, brushing his chin against the pale neck, already noticing it turning pink with beard burn.

“Mr. Stark, c’mon, please, I--” He mumbled incoherently, holding on for dear life to his shoulders, his breath short, swollen, wet lips parted, his lids heavy. A vision of paradise. “I need--”

Tony knew what he needed, but he wouldn’t give it to him just yet. Still, he let his middle finger wander towards his entrance, feeling his hole clenching, trying to pull it inside, ready to take whatever Tony was willing to give. He grabbed his thighs again, spreading them far apart, making Peter yelp in surprise. He kissed his hole gently one last time, then moved away, getting off the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” Tony smirked, undoing his pants, and he noticed Peter’s eyes intent on him. As soon as his cock sprung free, the young man whimpered, whispering “fuck” and biting his lips hard. “Like what you see?” Tony asked, cockily, he knew it was a nice view. He was nicely groomed and his cock was cut, long and thick, and at the moment it was rock hard like never before and dripping with pre-cum. He stepped out of his pants and headed towards the night stand before Peter could answer. He grabbed a bottle lube and made his way back to the bed, positioning himself between his legs once again.

He coated his fingers with plenty of lube and breached his entrance with one fingertip, only to hear a long, deep moan coming from the younger man, who clung to his shoulders for dear life. He fucked his finger in and out of him, slowly at first, but quicker as Peter’s hips started moving along with him, begging for more. Tony leaned down and kissed him, and felt one of Peter’s hands in his hair, as he curled both of his legs around the older man’s waist. Tony kept kissing him as he sunk another finger in his hole, eliciting a surprised moan from him, as he tried to adjust to the stretch.

They kept kissing and rocking against each other eagerly, as Tony fucked him open with his fingers, scissoring and curling them, until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside him. He drew back just enough to hold his cock, guiding it towards Peter’s entrance. Slowly and unrelentingly, Tony sank his cock inside him, blinded with pleasure as each inch sank further inside. Peter whined in pain but didn’t budge or asked him to stop, he took it like a good boy, holding still, legs spread wide, until Tony bottomed out. When he did, he wrapped his arms around his slight frame, lifting him a little from the bed, and Peter took a deep breath, holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetie, you’re so good for me, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Tony whispered nonsensically in his ear, kissing his cheeks and neck gently, waiting for him to adjust. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Peter started rocking his hips slowly, and Tony soon caught on. He grabbed his hips and slammed once inside him, hearing a scream coming from the younger man. He drew back and slowly built up a pace, slamming against him like there was no tomorrow. He moaned loudly, a mixture of pleasure and pain, Tony could tell, but instead of asking him to slow down, he pushed back against him just as hard, biting his neck.

Tony may have lost his mind somewhere along the way, pure instinct took over as he fucked into him with abandon, he heard his screams and moans and they made him hit harder, harder, and he thought he heard the younger man screaming just that, as he sank his nails into his shoulders and down his back, until he grabbed Tony’s ass and pulled him closer, faster, harder –

“Oh – Oh, Mr. Stark – I –“ Peter rolled his eyes back and it took Tony the better part of a minute to realize that he was coming, and he hadn’t even touched his cock. Spurts of his warm, white come covered both of their chests and Tony could feel that some of it caught on his chin. The sight of Peter underneath him – debauched, utterly satisfied, ruined – was enough to bring Tony over the edge, the force of his orgasm was almost blinding, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He let himself fall on top of Peter, barely aware of the fact that he was maybe a little too heavy for that, but the younger man didn’t seem to mind, if the soft, barely there caresses on his back were anything to go by.

They were silent for several minutes, bodies cooling down and falling asleep, but Tony’s mind was wide awake. What had he done? Peter was supposed to be off limits for a number of reasons, so many he couldn’t even focus on a single one. He felt the young man sigh softly under him, his hands drawing circles on his back peacefully.

“This was nice,” he whispered and it triggered something in Tony, because, fuck, it was perfect. It was perfect, but it was a lie, wasn’t it? Peter wasn’t really into him. He was just – he was just a fucking –

“I really hope this was a free trial, ‘cause I don’t think I can afford you, kid.” The minute the words left his mouth, he felt the younger man go rigid beneath him. He quickly pushed at Tony’s shoulders, trying to raise his upper body and the older man easily rolled off of him to the side, resting his head on his clasped hands on the pillow.

“What are you insinuating?” Peter asked with a frown, suddenly appearing very uncomfortable, gathering the sheets around him to cover his exposed skin.

“I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just saying I don’t think I have enough money to pay for this very expensive meal.” He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking, pretending he wasn’t as affected by what happened as he was. Peter turned bright red, his mouth falling open, gaping like a fish.

“What – I –“ he stammered, frozen for a few seconds before he jumped into action and out of bed, taking the sheets with him as he looked for his clothes around the room. “I can’t believe you just said that, you fucking asshole! Fuck you!” He yelled towards the bed and Tony was a little  surprised by his reaction.

“Chill, it was a joke.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that he young man was almost fully dressed by then, at least he had his pants and shirt on, his tie and jacket were draped over his arm as he looked for his shoes. When he turned back to Tony, his whole face was inhumanly red and soaked in tears, it made Tony’s heart clench. “Jesus, kid!”

“I’m not laughing, asshole!” He yelled again, marching towards the door without looking back. “You’re all the fucking same, bunch of assholes, what was I thinking? I’m so fucking stup– ” Tony couldn’t hear the rest of his rant because he slammed the door with so much force that the older man was pretty sure he felt the building shaking a little bit.

Well, fuck.

--*--

Two weeks later, when Tony stepped inside the lab, he had a whole plan figured out. After Peter left that night, he went through all five stages of admitting he had been an asshole – as was common for him, he usually went through those at least a few times a week.

So, first, he denied it.

“The kid is obviously overreacting, right? It was just a joke and, even if it wasn’t, well, I wouldn’t have been that far off from the truth.”

Then, he was angry.

“Fuck that kid, he had no right to react the way he did, who does he think he is, slamming the door like that, yelling at me, calling me names, all because of a stupid little joke? Fuck him.”

Then, he bargained.

“So, okay, maybe I was a little over the line, but I can fix it, right? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Then he felt a little sad, because, fuck, thinking back to their time together, the kid had never been anything but nice to him, he didn’t deserve that and Tony always fucked up with people, what was wrong with him?

Finally, he fully accepted it. He was definitely, irrevocably and undoubtedly an asshole. They had a nice time together, the kid was the best lay he had in fucking years, and sure, maybe he was with Norman for money or whatever, but what they did, what they shared that night – it felt pretty fucking real and Tony blew it.  

So when he walked into the lab two weeks later, he had it all figured out. He would ask Peter to stay a little late, then, when everybody left, he would apologize to him sincerely and since he had a taste for expensive gifts, he even got him a gold bracelet, just as an “I’m sorry I was an asshole” gift, a peace offering.

The thing was, when he walked into the lab, Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Mr. Parker?” He asked the closest lab tech and the young woman shrugged, uninterested.

“He quit a few weeks ago, I heard.” She mumbled, concentrated on the microscope in front of her, and Tony cursed under his breath, feeling even more guilty than before. Had the kid felt so offended that he decided to quit the team? That couldn’t be right, he was Norman’s boy, how would he justify that to him? He wouldn’t tell him about them, would he? Tony figured that if he had told Norman anything, he would have heard about it by then, but everything seemed normal and in order, other than Peter’s absence from the lab.

“He went back to being Mr. Osborn’s intern?” He asked just to clarify, maybe he could go talk to him after he was done in the lab for the day.

“No, he quit Oscorps.” She looked at him like he was asking dumb questions, like everyone should know that piece of information.

Tony did not expect that. His heart raced a little when he heard those words, for some reason. He thought he should be relieved, one less thing to worry about. With Peter gone, he wouldn’t need to worry about apologizing or Norman finding out about them. He didn’t need to worry about things getting weird in the lab or Peter trying to use it against him or something. But he wasn’t relieved. He was – what was he feeling? Whenever he thought about the possibility of not seeing Peter ever again, his heart clenched.

The engineer couldn’t understand what was going on inside him, he just needed to talk to Peter, fucking apologize, get him back on the team, make sure that they would still see each other every month, that they would still talk, and laugh together, and share a workbench so small their hips touched every now and again.  

Which was why Tony found himself waiting at the main entrance of Columbia's Morningside Heights campus on Wednesday evening, probably looking suspicious as hell as he swept the crowd, looking for a familiar face. It was a long shot, but he new Peter had classes every afternoon and he knew at what time he was done most days. He guessed the young man would take a train at the subway station on 116th Street, so there he was, looking and waiting.

After almost two hours and no luck, Tony was ready to give up and leave when he saw him walking out, arms full of text books, a heavy looking backpack hanging from one shoulder. He was wearing reading glasses, baggy, ripped jeans, and a graphic t-shirt underneath an oversized gray hoodie and Tony realized he had never seen him like that, he was always well dressed at work and he only ever saw him in other two occasions: his dinner with Norman and at the gala.

Tony thought he looked even more beautiful like that, stripped off of all the fancy things that made him look like an expensive doll. He looked at ease and comfortable and Tony felt a weird desire to hold him. Fucking hold him. Not rip off his clothes and fuck him – well, that too – but to take him into his arms, pull him close and breathe into his his wild curls.

“Hey, Peter,” Tony called out loud enough for him to hear and as soon as his eyes made contact with the older man’s, his face turned red and his eyes widened before he dropped his gaze to the ground, picking up the pace to walk away from Tony. “Hey, hold on, kid, c’mon, I’m talking to you.” The engineer quickly followed, grabbing him by the arm and making him turn around.

“What do you want, what are you doing here?” He asked impatiently, looking around as if afraid to make a scene, there were a lot of people walking in and out of campus at that time.

“You quit Oscorps,” the older man stated, dumbly, and Peter stared at him as if he wanted to say just that. He waited to see if Tony would say anything more and he really meant to, but nothing else came out of his stupid mouth.

“Yeah, and?” He prompted, holding his books close to his chest defensively, getting ready for a fight, but Tony just shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“And now I don’t have any engineers on my team,” he offered, as kind of a joke, he thought, but again, Peter wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away, but Tony held him back again. “What the hell, don’t touch me!”

“Ok, sorry, I’m sorry.” He let go of his arm and raised both of his hands in a peace offering. “I’m trying to apologize here, I’m not very good at this.”

“Clearly,” Peter snarked, and Tony nodded.

“Right. Ok. I deserve that. Look, let me just –“ He wracked his brain for something to say, he really should have thought it through. The thing was, he thought Peter would be a little more… Compliant. He didn’t expect him to still be that pissed off after almost two weeks. “Let me treat you to dinner, how about that? So we can clear the air?”

“No, thanks,” Peter answered quickly and started to walk away again, heading to the subway station. Since grabbing him and trying to stop him didn’t seem like a good idea, Tony started walking alongside him.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be so stubborn, I’m just trying to apologize here,” he insisted, attracting Peter’s impatient gaze, as he still tried to balance all the books in his arms.

“You’re forgiven, is that what you wanna hear?” He snapped, and Tony was taken aback by the anger and hurt in his eyes. “There you go. You’re absolved! Goodbye now.” Again, he tried to leave the older man behind, but Tony didn’t let him.

“Hey, kid, don’t be so difficult, I just--”

“Tony!” Weirdly enough, after everything they’d done, that was the first time the younger man called him by his first name and even if the situation was less than ideal, it still sent a shiver down his spine. The boy stopped walking to look at him dead in the eye. “You called me a whore, now you’re asking me to dinner! What am I supposed to think here? I’m not for sale, I’m sorry if I misled you, go bother someone else.”

“Peter, I’m sincerely, honest to God, just trying to apologize here. I know I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, nobody does, I’m sorry, I was way out of line. I just wanna take you to dinner because I think you’re a good kid, I know you enjoyed working with me and you looked up to me somehow, so I just wanna make it up to you, ok? I promise, nothing else. I just don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me. I’m a good guy, I’m just kind of an asshole sometimes.” Tony tried to convey all his honesty through his eyes, which made Peter deflate a little bit. The young man stared at him for a few seconds with a frown on his forehead, before he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re very annoying,” he said, matter-of-factly, and the older man nodded.  

“I’m known to be quite annoying, yeah,” he admitted, putting on his best pleading face, puppy eyes and all. “Let me make it up to you,” he insisted, and Peter rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation.

“Fine, dinner. Not tonight, though, I have work.” Tony cheered on the inside – and a little on the outside – but the younger man kept a straight face.

“Whenever you’re free.” Peter thought for a second and it almost seemed like he was regretting it already.

“Tomorrow, then. You can pick me up here. And I’ll choose the restaurant.” He stuck up his nose, defiantly, and Tony just spread his arms in surrender.

“Fair enough.”

So Tony decided to be a perfect gentleman, he put on a nice suit, he bought some flowers and took the gold “I’m sorry I was a jerk” bracelet with him when he went to pick Peter up. He was sure he would pick the most expensive restaurant in New York as payback and maybe he would order the most expensive things on the menu and, yeah, Tony knew he was really stupid if he were to comply, but, apparently, he wasn’t as smart as he once thought. And apparently he wasn’t immune to cute boys who knew how to play their cards right. So, yeah, maybe he fell right into Peter’s web in the end and maybe he wasn’t too upset about it. He could afford to spend a few dollars on him, have a good meal, smart conversations, and then move on. Because that’s what it was, right? Just him needing closure, if nothing else.

Except, when he parked his car, Peter was standing on the sidewalk in plain blue jeans and a cheap gray sweater and he looked thoroughly amused by Tony’s outfit when he got out of the car to get the door for him. He offered him the flowers and the boy was even more amused, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he read the “I’m sorry I was a jerk” card. Tony decided not to give him the bracelet after all, didn’t seem like a good idea by the looks of it.

“Where do you think we’re going?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, stopping in front of Tony before he got in the car.

“I was thinking a three-star Michellin restaurant?” The older man frowned and the boy snorted, apparently very amused.

“Yeah, and how in the hell would I afford to eat there, Mr. Stark?” He cocked his head to the side with feigned curiosity and Tony frowned.

“Afford? What – no, I’m buying! This is an ‘I’m sorry’ dinner. Besides, I invited you, it’s only polite.” He argued, but the boy quickly shook his head.

“You’ve apologized enough.” He gestured to the flowers. “Besides, I’m sorry, but I’m a little skeptical about gratuitous generosity at the moment, so we’re just gonna get some cheap pizza if that’s ok with you.” He shrugged, pointing in the general direction of the pizza place he was probably planning to go.

“What? Peter, come on. At least –“

“I only agreed to come if you let me choose the restaurant, so it’s either this or I’m heading back home.” He threatened to turn away and Tony jumped to stop him.

“No, no, sorry, you’re right. It’s your pick.” He opened the door to the passenger seat before Peter could change his mind and leave.

They got inside the car and Tony followed the young man’s instructions to the pizza joint, it wasn’t far from campus and was mostly empty when they got there. It was really not the sort of place that Tony went to anymore, but he couldn’t deny that was exactly the kind of restaurant he could afford when he was 19 at MIT. He was still a little confused by Peter’s choice of restaurant, not really sure if it was all a game, a plot to get back at him, but he seemed honest when he said he wanted to pay for his half.

“Maybe lose the jacket? And the tie?” He suggested with an amused smile from beside him when they parked the car and Tony chuckled slightly, doing just that and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves as well. “Much better.”

When they got inside the restaurant, Peter seemed to know the waiters, they sat at a table in the far back and ordered their drinks. They didn’t even have wine. A pizza place that didn’t serve wine, what even was that madness.

“So, you come here a lot? Everyone seems to know you around here.” Tony tried to start some amicable conversation and, surprisingly, Peter was receptive.

“I used to work here, actually. Before Oscorps.” He smiled fondly as he looked around, like he had some good memories there.

“Oh, cool.” Again, he was surprised by the boy’s story, Tony always assumed that he had an easy life. “Did I – was it because of me? The reason you quit?” He asked with a wince and Peter raised a brow, amused.

“Don’t be so self-important, it had nothing to do with you,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, so Tony thought maybe he wasn’t that mad anymore. He sure seemed a lot calmer than the last time they met. “You’re a jerk, but I’ve dealt with worse.” Tony snorted, he couldn’t even be mad, Peter was just stating facts. He was a little curious to know what led him to quit his job, if it wasn’t Tony, and suddenly remembered how upset he was when they left the party. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask, though, they were just getting back on good terms.

“So, what are you doing now that you quit Oscorps?” Tony cocked his head to the side and the boy shrugged, playing with his paper napkin.

“Back to waiting tables and making coffee.” He smiled, he didn’t seem upset by the turn of events, which was… unexpected? It was just so odd. Tony had this idea that Peter liked to live that expensive lifestyle he had with Osborn, wasn’t that the whole point of being with him? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Peter chuckled, furrowing his brow. “What?”

“Nothing, I just –” He shook his head and gave up in the middle of the sentence.

“What, you thought I’d find another rich dude or something?” He creased his brow, looking genuinely confused, not mad. “Wait, do you actually think I’m an escort?” He asked as an afterthought, and Tony could deny it, but he didn’t think he could make it believable anyway.

“Not exactly, but – something like that, yeah,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time, and braced himself for the explosion, but Peter just showed him a sad little smile.

“You thought I was with him for his money,” he stated and Tony winced, because when Peter said it out loud, when those words came out of his mouth, they sounded so wrong. Like they could never be true. “It’s okay, I guess he thought that, too, and so did everyone else. My coworkers, the press, even some of my friends,” he scoffed, folding his napkin in half just to have something to do with his hands. “I guess I’m just a stupid kid who watched way too many Disney princess movies growing up. I blame my aunt, honestly.” He tried to joke and Tony shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have judged you, it wasn’t my place. I just thought it was so odd for a guy like you to be with a guy like him.” Such a beautiful, brilliant, young man like you deserved so much better than him, was what Toy didn’t dare to say.

“I loved him,” he said and it shouldn’t have stung, it shouldn’t have made Tony’s stomach twist and turn, and his heart clench, but it did. It fucking did. “Or I thought I did. Turns out I got it all wrong. I thought we were going somewhere, but he wasn’t really serious about me, which became very clear when he decided not to take me to the gala, so.” He blushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the table, still folding the napkin until it was impossible to keep folding.

“Yeah, but you still came. Why?” Tony insisted, because he really wanted to figure him out, he needed to, because Peter wasn’t who he thought he was, he wasn’t that person Tony was so quick to judge and he needed to know who he was, after all. Because – he just needed to.

“I guess I – I just thought... He would regret it or something, you know. Once he saw me.” He gave a self-deprecatory laugh, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if trying to physically erase something from his mind. “Like… A stupid rom-com or something, you know. Like, the happy ending scene. Whatever. It’s stupid.” He ran a hand through his hair, blushing even harder. “Again, I blame my aunt, she was the one who made me watch all these stupid movies.”

Tony wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that everybody else was fucked up and couldn’t see what an amazing person he was, but the waiter chose that moment to interrupt them with their food, which was good, because Peter perked up and actually looked excited, rubbing his hands together and looking at Tony expectantly.

“Try it, tell me if it’s not the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life.” Tony smiled at his excitement and grabbed a piece of the cheap pizza. As expected, it tasted like garbage, but he wouldn’t tell Peter that, obviously.

“Sorry, kid, it’s not. But I’m forty-five and I’ve been to Italy, so don’t look so bummed.” Peter deflated slightly, grabbing a piece of his own and taking a huge bite out of it, like it was the best meal ever.  

“Fine then, the best pizza in New York?” He compromised and Tony was a hundred percent sure it was most definitely not the best pizza in New York, but –

“I’ll give you that.” He conceded and Peter beamed.

“I’ll take it.”

They fell into an easy conversation about engineering and about Peter’s expectations for the future, which ended up turning into a conversation about what Tony did after college. The older man told him about all the steps he took to get where he was, working for other companies, having his ideas stolen, not getting credit for his work, quitting multiple jobs, almost going bankrupt trying to get Stark Industries off the ground and then finally being in a comfortable place in his professional life at 45 – better late than never.

“I think it’s amazing how you managed to turn your life around, you know. It’s really inspiring.” Peter seemed truly moved by Tony’s story, and the older man knew it was quite impressive, but he just shrugged it off.

“Yeah, boo-hoo, but now that you know my sob story, you have to tell me yours.” He took another bite of the terrible pizza and decided that sometime after the third slice, it became almost edible. Key-word: almost.

“Well, there’s not much to say and it’s definitely not as interesting or as successful as yours, but let’s see. My parents died when I was really young, I think I was around four – I’m ashamed to say I don’t really remember them. I still have their pictures, but I just – you know.” Peter shrugged and, yeah, Tony knew. After his mom died, he couldn’t look at pictures of her for years; at the same time that he wanted to remember her, he kind of wanted to forget. “I was raised by my aunt May and uncle Ben, but he was killed in a mugging when I was ten. Fuck, my life story is such a downer, are you sure you wanna hear it?” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, and Tony smiled softly.

“As long as you wanna tell it, kid.” Peter took a deep breath, as if considering if he actually wanted to tell that story, but finally seemed to decide to go on.

“So, my aunt May was a nurse, she struggled to make ends meet, but she was just – amazing, you know? She was like a mother to me, she never left me wanting for anything, specially when it came to my education, which was how I was able to get into college so early. Anyway, she passed away almost two years ago from a stomach cancer. So… It’s just me now. I’m the last Parker standing.” He smiled sadly, dropping his gaze to stare at the slice of uneaten pizza in his plate.

“Fuck, that’s rough, kid. But hey, if it’s any consolation, I’m also the last Stark standing. Maybe we should start a club or something,” he joked to try to lighten up the mood and the young man giggled, looking back at him with a smile.

“Like, the Parker-Stark Lonely Orphans Club?” He asked cheekily and Tony laughed. “Anyway, a year ago I got into Oscorps’s internship program, which was a dream come true, but then I screwed it up by sleeping with the boss, because I’m an idiot. The end.” He snorted and, again, Tony was a little surprised to learn that Peter got the internship before he met Norman, but at that point, it wasn’t much of a shock, he should have seen it coming.

“So, can I ask what happened? Between you and Norman? What made you quit?” Tony asked carefully. As the night went on, he felt like he and Peter were getting more comfortable with each other, more comfortable than they could ever be all those months before, when Tony made such an effort to despise him.

“Ugh, it’s… Well, it’s embarrassing.” It was barely a whisper. Peter’s cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet Tony gaze.

“It’s okay, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He reassured him, feeling confident enough to place a hand on top of his on the table. Peter stared at them for a few seconds, before looking up at him.

“It’s… Something he did at the party. He kept pushing me to this guy, you know. Some business partner or whatever. And I didn’t quite understand what he was trying to accomplish, but then I went to the bathroom and this guy followed me there and he – he tried – to kiss me. And to touch me.” He blushed, gaze fixed on the table between them once again. Tony tightened his grip on his hand. “When I pushed him away he said something about Norman not knowing how to teach his whores good manners. When I tried to talk to Norman – he said I owed him.” He frowned, lifting his eyes to look at him. “For all the expensive gifts, and nice restaurants, and everything he did for me. He said it was the least I could do.” He scoffed, but his cheeks were pink, like maybe some part of him believed that – believed that while he thought he was dating someone he loved, he was actually whoring himself out to him.

“That’s why you were so upset at the party,” he whispered, realizing what a massive jerk he’d been after that. The kid must have been feeling like shit that day. Used and expendable and lost. And then Tony treated him like a fucking cheap hooker.  “Peter… I’m so sorry for that night, I didn’t –“

“It’s okay, I’m fine now. Don’t get me wrong, it was a total dick move, but I already knew you were kind of a dick, so no alarms, no surprises.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, but nothing he could say could ever absolve Tony of what he’d done, of the harm he’d caused him that night. Fuck, if he was Peter, he would never have talked to him again, let alone agreed to dinner. His behavior the previous night suddenly made perfect sense. “I quit the next day, put his stupid gifts in a box and sent it to the tower, he can choke on them for all that I care.” He shrugged, trying to appear non-nonchalant, but Tony knew the whole thing must still fucking hurt, it had only been two weeks.

“I sincerely hope he does,” Tony offered and Peter laughed out loud, throwing his head back in delight.

When they walked to the car at the end of the night, Tony could feel that something had changed between them. He felt like all that time he knew Peter he had been missing a huge chunk of information, which made all the difference in the world. He could see Peter now, the real him. The ride to his place was taken in comfortable silence and when Tony parked his car, neither of them moved. The older man turned towards the younger one and licked his lips. He knew the answer to the question he was gonna ask, he knew he deserved it, but still –  

“Can I get you number?” It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to apologize, show the kid a good time as a way of making it up to him for the terrible things he said and move on. Go back to work, go back to his life, but now – now he was stuck. Looking at Peter and seeing a whole new person. Someone he wanted to get to know more, but knew he didn’t deserve.

“Oh, I don’t know, do you think you can afford it?” Peter teased, and Tony actually blushed, embarrassed to remember how much of a dick he’d been.

“Ugh, I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his face, only to hear Peter’s delighted chuckle.

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry. But I don’t think It’s a good idea, Tony.” He bit his lower lip and Tony nodded to himself, because, yeah, he knew it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Because Peter deserved so much better than him. “But this was nice. Thank you for caring enough to apologize.”

“It was the least I could do.” He gave him a small smile and was taken by surprised when the young man unceremoniously leaned in and kissed him. Tony didn’t waste any time burying his hand in his hair, pulling him impossibly close as their lips brushed softly and tongues met in a sweet embrace. The young man pulled away after just a few seconds, though, and Tony didn’t even have the courage to open his eyes and acknowledge it was over. “Are you sure this isn’t a good idea? Because it sure tastes like a great fucking idea. I would know, I have great ideas all the time, ask anyone.” Tony whispered and Peter laughed, his face was still so close the older man could feel his breath on his lips.

“Goodbye, Tony. Good luck with your company,” he smiled, as he opened to door to get out of the car.

“I’ll miss you on my team.” Which was to say, I’ll miss you. Plain and simple.

“I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.” I won’t, I don’t want to. I want you. “Gotta go now, I have work in the morning. Bye!” He got out and closed the door behind him, waving one last time before he walked away.

“Goodbye, Peter,” he whispered to the empty car, hands clutching the steering-wheel as he watched the boy disappear into the building.

--*--

Working at Oscorps was not the same without Peter. First, because he was actually a very good intern who helped a lot with every single task Tony assigned him. Second, because even though he hadn’t noticed it before, he always looked forward to talking to him. To learning those tiny little pieces of information the boy let escape through his lips once in a while, only to blush profusely and apologize seconds later.

Still, he kept going. Norman never bothered him, which was nice, and as the remaining months passed, Tony’s name became more and more recognizable, he closed so many deals over the course of that year, he was able to more than double his team and the office and lab they used to work got way too small for them. He started looking for some other place to go and the more he thought about it, more sense it made to move SI headquarters to California. Most of his partners were there and he would also be closer to his suppliers and many other business opportunities.

So after talking to Pepper, Nat, Rhodey, Happy and Bruce – “the original six”, as they liked to call themselves, including Tony –, he decided to move right after his contract with Oscorps was done in December. Those last few months were crazy and got crazier when B.A.R.F. was finally announced to the public. Both the product and the technology behind it sent Stark Industries to a whole other level, their stocks skyrocketed and Tony literately became the richest man in New York overnight, even richer than Norman – and that was saying something.

Which was why, when December rolled around and Osborn invited him to dinner to discuss the possibility of renewing the contract and he showed up with some supermodel hanging off his arm, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he was in that same situation. He remembered how nervous he was before the dinner, how excited he felt when they closed the deal and how gorgeous Peter looked that night. But he remembered, specially, what Osborn did to the younger man months after that. How he’d treated him, what he’d said to him.

“So, what do you say, Stark? Wanna be partners for five more years?” Osborn’s smile was kind of creepy, he hadn’t noticed it before. He offered him a hand and Tony stared at it for what felt like hours, although it was probably only a few seconds. It was great fucking deal, way better than the one he had before, but –

“You know what, Norman?” He smiled to himself and took a deep breath, wishing he was wearing his smart glasses so he could record his reaction. “Fuck you.” He beamed, standing up from his chair, admiring the expression of shock and horror on the older man’s face. He buttoned his suit jacket and, still smiling like a madman, left the restaurant like he owned the place – which he could, if he wanted.

On his last night in New York, he decided to look for Peter. He didn’t want to pressure him or anything, but they hadn’t seen each other in almost six months, so maybe something might have changed for him. Tony still couldn’t get him out of his head, each day that passed he wished he’d done things differently, so fucking differently.

He wished he’d been nicer, from day one. He wished he had lived up to his expectations, his hero worship. He wished he could have been a decent human being, a shoulder to cry on that night he was so vulnerable and broken. He wished he could have wooed him and gotten him to fall in love with him, the way he’d fallen for him.

He wanted a second chance, he really did, but when he knocked on the door of the apartment the boy used to live, the place where Tony had said goodbye to him all those months ago, some stoned college kid answered the door. When he asked about Peter, the boy just shrugged.

“He moved away a while ago, dude. Got a job somewhere or something.”

So that was it. Tony didn’t have his number and Peter wasn’t on social media – at least Jarvis couldn’t find him, and he sure as hell looked. So he gathered the last of his stuff and left New York for good, mind wandering to those few moments he’d spent with Peter, thinking how different things could have been if he hadn’t been so quick to judge.

No point crying over spilled milk.

Stark Industries flourished in L.A. All of Tony’s crazy, genius ideas were funded, so he finally finished his arc reactor project – something he’d started as a teen, but didn’t have the resources to continue – and started a line of electronics – computers, cellphones, tablets, all the good stuff. After the first couple of months, he bought a mansion in Malibu, just because he could, and finally felt like his life was heading in the right direction.

Still, it felt like there was a Peter-shaped whole in it, which was insane, they’d only known each other for a little over five months, it made no sense how much he missed him, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and still there were nights he could fucking smell Peter’s scent on his sheets – sheets he’d never even laid on. Could feel his soft skin under his fingertips as he hugged his pillow close to his chest, the way he wished he’d held him that night when he stormed off, humiliated and hurt. Those nights he couldn’t sleep, could only stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out time travel, just so he could go back and fix things.

Once he was settled in California, he was invited to give lectures in universities all over the country. MIT was first, then NYU, Stanford, Yale, UCLA and, finally, Caltech in late November. His lectures were usually about the arc reactor, clean energy was in fashion, everybody was talking about it, and the fact that he figured out cold nuclear fusion was still a very hot topic.  

It was still early in the evening when he finished his lecture at Caltech, a few students stayed behind to ask him questions or just talk for a bit, Tony had become sort of a celebrity for nerds, and he didn’t mind staying a little late talking to those starry-eyed kids, so it was already dark out when he was done. When he thought he was alone, he started gathering his things, thinking of somewhere he could eat in Pasadena before he headed back to Malibu, when he heard it. That sweet, unmistakable voice.

“That was a hell of a lecture.” Tony turned around slowly, almost afraid to be wrong, but there was no way he’d be. Peter was there, staring back at him, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight blush on his cheeks. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

“You ran away from me, kid.” He breathed out, letting his hands fall to his sides, even though they itched to touch, his legs were shaking with desire to run to the younger man, but he stood still, afraid that if he moved, the spell would be broken and he would realize that Peter was just an illusion.

“That’s a big ego you got there if you think I’d make such a dramatic life change just for you, old man.” He stepped into the room slowly, until he was standing right in front of Tony, close enough to touch, but neither of them did. “I’m getting my Masters here. I heard you were coming for a lecture.”

“So you came by to say hi?” Tony cocked his head to the side and Peter chuckled, nodding.

“Yes. Hi.” He perched himself on the desk Tony was using during his lecture and it was the older man’s turn to move to stand in front of him.

“Hi.” He smiled, stepping closer, paying attention to see if the young man was in any way uncomfortable by his actions, but he didn’t even flinch.

“So, I heard you ditched Norman.” He crossed his arms over his chest again, a small smile on his lips.

“I believe my exact words were ‘fuck you’, actually.” That made Peter laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his long throat. “I missed you kid.”

“Couldn’t find an intern to make you coffee and fawn over you while you were at Oscorps?” He jabbed a finger in his chest and Tony caught it in his hand.

“Couldn’t find you. Anywhere. And I looked.” He confessed, not letting go of his hand, not looking away from his eyes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and all the things I didn’t say.”

“Such as?” Peter asked coyly, biting his lower lip as he looked at Tony from under his eyelashes.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t go. Give me a chance. I’ll make this work. I’m in love with you. Things like that, you know.” He didn’t care that he was putting his heart on the line, he couldn’t choke on those words anymore, and if that was the last chance he ever got to say them, at least he could sleep peacefully at night. Peter blushed deeply, lips parted in shock, but then his face stretched in a slow, lazy smile, eyes focused on Tony’s.

“Can I buy you coffee?” He asked quietly, blinking slowly, and the older man shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“Depends. Can I buy you dinner? And don’t you dare ask if I can afford it.” He closed the distance between them as Peter laughed out loud, head thrown back in delight.

“I was just gonna say yes,” he promised, as he placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, allowing him to come stand in between his legs. “Which is something I regretted not saying.” He confessed. “So, coffee first?”

“Yeah, coffee first.” Tony leaned down to kiss his lips, and they tasted so familiar, so right, and he knew it was crazy, because they shouldn’t, they were together for such a short time and Tony wasn’t a fucking teenager, he was a grown man, and he didn’t know how in the fuck he fell in love so hard and so fast, but he did. “It’s so good to see you.” He stole yet another kiss from him and felt the younger man’s lips stretching in a smile under his. Suddenly, he was reminded of a conversation they’d had over a year earlier. “So, do you think this is the happy ending scene in our movie or what?” He asked a beaming Peter, who pretended to examine his face carefully, before answering with a grin.

“I guess we’ll see.”

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

horny horny horny thinking about knowing H has to take that pic so you slowly rub your thumb over his slit and jerk him off since the camera can’t see you

You hadn’t been able to keep your hands off him since you both got out of the shower; there’d been too much foreplay within the steamy, dangerously close proximity for you to withhold any longer.

It’d started innocently enough with him helping wash down your back with a sudsy loofah as you massaged shampoo into his sopping curls. He hadn’t meant for it to escalate the way it did— he just wanted it to be a nice couple activity that would help both of you unwind from the recent stressors that had been set on the world’s shoulders.

Harry had pulled you close under the drizzling stream of warm water, working the soapy sponge down the curved line that accentuated the center of your spine, rolling it in lazy circles across the dip of your back. His head had nuzzled into your damp neck, mouth pressing to the mellow pulse, the skin of his lips rubbery and squeaky against your own.

You had squeezed out a decently sized glob of shampoo into the palm of your hand, slowly carding your fingers into his matted ringlets, starting at the nape of his neck and working the product upwards tenderly into his scalp.

The soothing motions of the pads of your digits had made his knees buckle slightly, a gurgley, raw moan elbowing its way out from the back of his throat without his permission. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

The vibrations of the deep groan had sunken into the flexing tendons of your throat, radiating through your entire body and burrowing into your bones. You’d nearly collapsed in his lean arms right then and there.

You get the feeling he could sense the impact it’d had on you due to the way his forearms had tightened around your torso; it was like he could sense your limbs about to give out into him.

Your lips had flushed against the penetrating thump echoing in his temple, your fingers winding harder into his hair until he released a tiny, guttural whimper. Your voice had come out as a wispy mumble, drunk on the sensation of his nails gently scraping up and down the fleshy mounds of your hips. “Missed this.”

Harry’s nod has been slow and numb, his eyes lulled shut and mind half submerged in the comforting heat exchanging between your tangled bodies, also lost in the pattering of the water working the knots out of his tense back. When he spoke, his words were a low and jumbled hazy mess, accent slathered thicker than usual. “God, I fucking missed you.”

A fond, flattered smile had wrestled with your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“So much— more than anything.” Harry’s lips had started rubbing against the faint outline of your collarbones, the breath of his sentences searing your skin with pinpricks of pleasure. “Missed your smell and your smile and how pretty you look when you sleep. Missed the way you snort when you laugh too hard and the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when I compliment you because they get all hot.”

Your feet are suddenly swept from under you, sliding backwards across the slippery tiles as Harry’s arm lifts you off the shower floor just enough to easily glide you towards the nearest wall.

The marble is freezing cold when it hits your back, causing your nails to instinctively rake into his scalp. He seems to enjoy it, obvious in how he pools an appreciative hum into the alcove at the center of your jugular.

He draws back a bit and plunks his forehead to yours, eyebrows furrowing as his lashes flutter and intermingle with your own, muted green irises dazed. You can feel the creases that form between his brows tickle your wet skin.

A sheepish murmur burns your cupid’s bow. “Promised myself I wouldn’t make this about sex so quickly.”

You gift him a gradual bat of your eyes, tongue peeking out to stifle some of the itching running across your upper lip. “Why’s that?”  

The way you’re ogling up at him with that innocent doe-like gaze is wearing away at the scarce traces of sanity he has left. He swallows thickly, gnawing at the inside of his cheek to reign in some control, his eyes softening with affection. “Hadn’t seen you in so long that I just wanted to spend some quality time together. Don’t want you to think I’m with you just for the shagging.”

You burst into a round of airy laughter, head falling back and thunking hollowly against the speckled black wall of the bathroom. “S’not really a problem to me given that the shagging is pretty good.”

Harry’s swollen, tinted lips break into a sly grin of their own, the tip of his nose streaking across yours in an intimate, light-heated gesture. A boyish giggle flutters in the back of his throat, two front teeth tugging at his lower lip thoughtfully. “It is really fucking good, isn’t it?”

You mirror his action as images of past nights flicker behind your eyes like pages of book— an extensive, very heated, very graphic novel. “So fucking good, honey.”

His eyelids droop over his dilating pupils, cheekbones blossoming with various shades of red and pink at the use of one of his favorite pet names, the light hairs along his tan arms tingling. “Love how that sounds coming from your mouth.”

You thumb over his small ears, paying special attention to the sensitive shells. A shiver wrings across his broad shoulders and you coo a feathery laugh at his expense. “How long’s it been, again?”

You knew how long— you’d been counting the days from the moment he stepped onto the plane. However, hearing him say it himself made you feel comforted, in a way. It was nice to know that he’d kept track of it, too, because it meant he had missed you just as much as you had missed him.

Harry’s brows cinch yet again as he recalls all those hard days jumping around hotel rooms and sleeping in empty cold beds without your body heat to get him through the difficult nights. His response comes out as a pained sigh. “Two months.”

You nod your head in sympathetic agreement, tucking a rouge damp curl behind his ear. “Two months exactly. So with that taken into consideration, you can see why I’m not against you fucking me sore as soon as possible…”

His eyes fly open at your crude remark, pupils blown way out of portion as the light olive color inks a darker emerald hue. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got the filthiest mind, y’know that?”

Harry pries an arm from around your waist, the textured pad of his index finger tracing delicately along the curve of your bottom lip. He expresses his thoughts aloud, tone one of awed need. “Such a pretty mouth with such a dirty fucking tongue. Daydream about it constantly.”

You part your lips, coaxing the digit inside and just barely biting down on it teasingly. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

A breath catches in Harry’s throat, veins chiseling into existence as the muscles beneath grow taut with aroused angst. He has to force the words out, feeling the sour aftertaste simmer his sinuses. “I think about shoving myself down your throat and watching you take every inch while your eyes water. Think about guiding your head with a fist in your hair while you moan around my cock and beg for me cum in your mouth.”

He pauses for a second, mouth ghosting over yours, the corners twitching with playful smugness as he notices the air struggling to leave your lungs. “But mostly, I think about that dreamy little smile you get when I tell you what a good girl you are for me. Y’know the one, right? That wispy grin you give me despite the fact that your mouth is full.”

You lick over your suddenly chapped skin, having trouble swallowing with a dry throat. You manage to croak out a measly phrase that is hardly enough to communicate the raging in your lower belly.

“Need you.”

Harry’s too cocky for his own good and he’s well aware of it, but he can’t stop himself from making a mildly arrogant comment— especially not when he knows how much it gets you going.

“Need me to what, darling? Use your words.”

You give a rough yank to the curls along the back of his head as revenge for his condescending attitude, pushing down the way it makes your stomach boil. His neck jerks back, exposing his flexing throat and sharp jaw, a self-assured smirk jolting the edges of his ridiculously beautiful mouth. He releases a teensy hiss at the harsh actions, which slowly molds into a round of tempting chuckles.

You swallow down your pride and speak up.

“Need you to fuck me. Please.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You both rinse off hastily, making sure to get rid of all the soap and shampoo to avoid embarrassing rashes interrupting the hours of exertion that are sure to come.

You’re out in less than ten minutes, Harry standing before the mirror shaking out his tangled curls with a thick cotton towel as another one barely clings to his waist, back muscles contracting and stretching with his movements. His tanned skin seems to glow under the fluorescent lights of the washroom, dark tattoos prominent and alluring, especially along the prominent structure dipping downwards from his hips.  

You dry off as quickly as possible, not being able to resist the urge to touch him in some way. Your lips are on his pulse in an instant, the palm of one of your hands delving under the linen cloth and running along the underside of his shaft. The feeling of him plumping in your cupped digits has your eyes rolling shut.

A conceited whisper plucks at your ears and froths the pit of your tummy. “Forgot what a desperate little thing you are.”

“Just hurry up.”

Harry twists around and tosses the towel he’d been using on his curls onto its designated hook, finger-combing his locks up into a miniature ponytail and tying it off with the pastel pink velvet scrunchie you had left discarded on the bathroom counter. “What’s that one line about patience being a virtue or summat?”

“Well, I don’t wanna wait.“

He turns to face you, reaching up to cup your face gently with his large hand, squeezing your jaw jokingly and kissing the tip of your cold nose. “Well, you’re gonna have to. I have to take a picture to send to Zane Lowe for the interview tomorrow.”

You kink an eyebrow upwards, curiosity momentarily stifling the need to feel him pressed up against your stomach. “Right now? Fresh out of the shower?”

Harry gives a casual shrug, one end of his mouth curling into a nonchalant simper. “The faster it gets done, the better. Plus, I get the feeling I won’t be leaving the bed for a while so it’s best I do it now.”

Your fingers tighten around the base of his prick, the coarse, neatly trimmed hair of his pelvis itching your skin. “Fine.”

He reaches for his phone, opening up the camera and pointing it at the mirror, making sure to keep the reflection of his bare ass out of frame, as well as the hand tugging him off beneath the sink.

You thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the precum pearling out of the tip and using it as lubrication to speed up your pace.

Harry’s entire body jerks in response, jaw clenching and collarbones straining his skin. His arms are shaky and he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to snap an appropriate photo.

“Just take the picture, H.”

“S’what I’m trying to do but it’s a little hard when something else is demanding my attention in such an insistent way.”

“Take it or I’m going to drop on my knees right now and you’ll have to apologize to Zane and the team tomorrow.”

He captures a quick, somewhat half-assed image with his face hidden behind the phone— the teeth marks littering his lips would cause a catastrophic earthquake within the media.

His phone ends up in the towel hamper, his leftover towel ends up on the floor, and you end up getting exactly what you wanted.

[ditch-witches]

Rehearsal Dinner (George MacKay Smut)

So @iongaa​ really came through and murdered us with the aesthetic. Mother of God, how is she so talented.

requested: yes/no (your requests are always so intriguing, keep sending weird AUs for us)

pairing: stepbro!George MacKay x reader

warnings: literally everything. all of the sins. whoever can point them out gets a high five, okay?

word count: 5,414 (yikes)

a/n: there,,,, may be a ,,, part 2,,, because some of us got carried away,, 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you made your way downstairs, basking in the scent of breakfast cooking over the stove. You took a seat at the kitchen table beside your dad's fiance. She smiled at you over the top of the morning paper, taking a sip of her coffee. Your father moved to set a plate in front of you and press a kiss to the top of your head before plopping down in the seat next to you. "Glad you're home," he cooed, grinning proudly as you took a bite of your collection of breakfast foods and nodded in approval. "Thank you for coming back for the wedding."

You sent him a small smile, "Of course!"

His fiance spoke up. "Speaking of, George should be on his way..." she trailed off as she looked at her watch and your heart sank.

"I thought he couldn't?" You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. George was the last person you wanted to be around. His cocky smirk flashed into your mind alongside his parade of girls he always brought home. Your parents had been dating for a few years now, most of your time in high school and well into your college years, yet the two of you had interacted as little as possible, only "playing nice" for Christmas. Every time the notion of George coming home came into discussion, you usually took off. Due to your ability now to escape from his arrogance, you hadn't seen him in a year, shoving the wedge between the two of you as much as possible. Your blood boiled as your memories of him taking up most of the couch and kicking you out of the house were unveiled.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" His mother asked, bringing you back into present time. You hadn't realized just how out of it you were until your fork fell from your hand, now bent almost completely in half. You exhaled, immediately apologizing for the vandalism and standing from the table, saying you were fine. "Are you sure?" She called after you.

You looked back over your shoulder, plastering on a fake smile. "Oh yeah! It's fine, everything's fine!" You all but sprinted for cover in your room, leaning against your door as your heart pounded in your chest. You let out a groan. Out of all people: George.

You pulled the sleeves of your blouse over your wrists to warm up more, yawning slightly as you lazily held a mock bouquet in your hand. You were mixed into the plethora of George's cousins serving as bridesmaids, feeling awkward and out of place as you only knew two of them really. You were the maid of honor, merely because it was your father that was getting married but you knew if he had any say, you would have been on his side and George in your place. In the excitement of family members arriving and the church being way too overbooked for the weekend, you had almost forgotten the impending doom that was "rushing to get here as we speak." You blew a bubble with your already stale gum, earning an eye roll from one of the many women. You tilted your head at her with a sarcastic grin.

The wedding planner clapped his hands, capturing the attention of the room and lining everyone up. He put you towards the back, which you were prepared for, yet then ushered the groomsmen in. You locked eyes with an all too familiar expression, your eyebrow raising at the man. His eyes were exactly the same, but for some reason, it was like puberty had hit him like a truck. "Now, this isn't usually how this works, but by request of the couple, we're switching things up," the planner groaned slightly, and George moved to stand beside you.

You snapped your eyes forward, clutching the bouquet in your hand tighter. There was chatter all around the two of you as everyone attempted to find their places. You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to make conversation with him. You took George's arm and he smirked down at you. "You gonna ignore me all night, darling?" He jeered, peering down at you and you rolled your eyes.

"What circus animal did you bring home this time, asshole?" He chuckled at your remark, pulling you tighter to his side.

He wet his lips. "Why? So you can get jealous again?"

You scoffed. "Grow up."

"After you, doll face." He bumped his hip against yours. "What have you been up to since I've been gone? Still a virgin?"

Your ears burned and you clenched your jaw. "Like it's any of your business." You sighed, attempting to calm your frazzling nerves at just his presence.

"You are so easy to stir up, love," he muttered, chuckling darkly.

You shut your eyes momentarily. "Would you just shut up so we can get this shitshow over?" He moved his hand to settle over yours positioned on his arm, your skin blazing at his touch, making you look up at him. He leaned towards your ear and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. The smell of his aftershave was almost enticing enough for you to forget you were hating him.

His breath was warm against your neck and his accent deep and fuzzy in your ear. "Oh, darling, what's the fun in that?" You felt flushed and winded as he stepped away from you, his hand leaving your arm. "Steady now. I don't wanna have to throw you over my shoulder," he muttered, a smug look on his face as he turned forward, his posture upturned. He knew what he was doing. You were slightly taken aback, snapping your mouth shut and letting him lead you towards the altar behind the other members of the wedding party. You were silent during the rehearsal, locking eyes with George every so often only to dart your gaze away from him. It was difficult to pay attention to the jokes the priest was making while George continued to undress you with his eyes, and for some reason, you were into it.

You were quiet on the trip to the dinner, your mind almost numb as your thoughts flashed to George's breath on your neck and his overstimulating smell, not to mention the feeling of his hands. You almost moaned before your mind jumped into the present, grateful because you were sandwiched between your grandmother and one of your uncles in the back of your father's car. One of your second cousins turned over his shoulder to look at you. "Who was the guy you were walking with? New stepbrother?" He jeered and your shoulders tensed at that thought. What the fuck, he was going to be your stepbrother.

"Yeah, that's George. Handsome kid, don't you think?" Your father piped up and you grimaced.

The cousin snorted. "Don't encourage that. They'll end up as the wHaT aRe yOU dOinG sTepBro trope." You signed deeply.

"My mother is in the car!"

"He's not my stepbrother," you grumbled, attempting to drone out his voice.

"Yet," he jested, making you roll your eyes. "If you're gonna tap it, tap it now-"

"We're listening to the radio, see!" Your dad intervened, cutting him off and turning up the radio while singing overdramatically to the music, leaving you now to your burning mind. You chewed on your fingernail as your anxiety began to shoot through the roof. Before you knew it, you were engaging in small talk with your cousin and her friend as the giant table was being set. Looking around at the expensive hall the dinner was being held in, the thought of how your father and future stepmother got the money for such a venue while putting one kid through college and the other through graduate school crossed your mind. Your cousin's friend was a nice way to get your mind off of George, he was funny and totally in love with your cousin, evident in the way his eyes brightened when she would talk to him or laugh at one of his jokes. The only eyes on you when you laughed were George's as he bantered with groups of men closer to his age across the room. He'd eye you over the brim of his glass, his strong hands making your mouth water as he would tap one of his rings against the crystal absentmindedly.

"So, how do you feel about your dad getting married? The new family giving you trouble?" Your cousin's friend asked, nudging your arm at his light-hearted joke.

You shrugged. "If he's happy, I'm happy. The woman he's marrying is a total badass too so, really it's fine." You ran a hand through your hair, shooting a glance towards George and he looked at you with a smirk. You felt like you needed a dousing of holy water to combat your temptations.

George seemed to be fighting his own urges as he excused himself from his party and walked over to your group, settling his hand on your lower back to whisper in your ear. "Come with me," he mumbled. "I'm going to steal her for a few minutes if that's okay with you guys?" He asked your cousin, her cheeks slightly red as she looked like she would swoon if he came near her. Her friend eyed you before the two shrugged you away with George. George walked beside you as the two of you walked out of the room and down the hall, turning a few corners until you could no longer hear the party. He slipped his hand into yours before pinning you to a wall swiftly.

"What are you doing?" You muttered unevenly, heat pulsing through your body as one of his hands rested on your hip, your hand absentmindedly pushed his sleeve up to expose his veiny arm to your touch. It was like your body had a mind of its own.

"You think I'm going to let you eye fuck me all night without repercussions, pet?" You swallowed at his words, the deepness of his voice making your legs almost jelly. His other hand ran up your body, over your breast to take part of your collar between his index and thumb as he rubbed the fabric between his finger pads. "Was that guy your little boyfriend?" He tisked darkly. "So cute," he mocked, his hungry eyes darting up to yours. Your mind was absolutely putty as his smell invaded your senses. You tried not to focus on his knee propped between your legs. His fingers ghosted against your neck until the pad of his thumb brushed over your bottom lip before you took his thumb into your mouth, your eyes burning into his as his jaw tensed, focused on the movements of your tongue swirling against it. The feeling of his fingers resting against your jaw during this action egged you. He drew his thumb from your mouth, running it down your chin before his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. "Dirty girl," he growled before crashing his lips against yours, making you moan against him as he pushed himself against you.

The taste of liquor on his lips blended with your flavored chapstick as your tongue slipped into his mouth. In a mess of tugging and biting each other, your body melted into his rough grasp. You wanted whatever repercussions his twisted mind could come up with. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. You fought against diving your hands into his trousers to beg him to continue, but he broke away from you as you fought to catch your breath. Your lips were buzzing as the feeling of him still lingered. He brought his hand back up to your jaw again, tipping your chin up. "Say it," the devil's grin painted across his face before he continued, pressing his lips against yours once more, his teeth dragging your bottom lip slowly between his teeth. "Say you're dirty, darling," he ordered, his face hovering over yours as his hand squeezed your throat.

You moaned quietly as he regulated your breathing with his hand. You wanted to drink in his dark, commanding appearance. "I'm dirty," you panted. He stepped away from you and you nearly slipped down the wall, completely out of breath and flustered, missing his hands on your body.

"Pull yourself together," he jested darkly, sending you a smoldering gaze as he pushed his other sleeve to his elbow. It's like he already knew your weaknesses. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," you responded, your mouth seeming to know what he expected. He nodded with a smug expression as he gestured for you to walk back into the room with him while you straightened your shirt and fixed your hair.

He stopped you, reaching to fix your collar and you fought against the blush growing across your body. His smirk grew. "God, you're trembling. It'll be difficult leaving you alone at dinner," he almost groaned. You fought against kissing him again as his dark eyes surveyed your expression, the gears turning in his mind at the sight of you. God, you wanted him.

You were shoved into a seat beside George, he sent you a small grin as he took a sip of his drink and the waiters began to serve the main course. You were positioned towards the end of the table with the rest of your cousins and George on the line between the "cousins' table" and where the older people sat discussing politics and climate change. Your cousins mainly discussed hot TA's and movies that were premiering. "George, what's your major?" George perked up at a question directed to him, oozing charm as he began to tell one of the younger girls at the table about his degree, but half of his response fuzzed out of your attention as his hand slipped to your knee beneath the table cloth. You froze momentarily, your breath hitching in your chest as your chewing slowed.

It was like he was completely unaffected, continuing the conversation as his hand slid further up your thigh, fingers curling to wrap around your inner thigh. Your eyes snapped to him, pretending to listen to him as well as his fingers ran circles against your sensitive skin. You sighed unevenly. The fabric of your skirt was ruffled as he was slowly reaching your heat. The conversation deterred and George leaned towards you a bit. "Take a sip of water," he directed, lowly, his eyes tearing away from you. You furrowed your brows slightly but as his expression flipped, you didn't question him, raising the glass to your lips nonchalantly and one of his fingers brushed against your core, making you almost choke. He chuckled slightly. "Smooth?" He asked loud enough that it eased the slightly worried expressions directed towards you.

You set down your glass, coughing falsely. "Wrong pipe," you grumbled. His hand pushed your legs apart as he took a bite of his food, unbothered. His fingers ghosted against your underwear and you bit back a moan wanting to vibrate through your body.

"Hey, did you hear about that senator that died last week?" Someone asked you, knowing full well you kept up with information like that.

You shifted in your seat, looking like you were attempting to choose your words carefully, but in reality, you were trying to get George to leave you alone for a moment. "Heart attack right? It should be fine-" your voice cut out as George's finger moved your underwear to the side and he toyed with your nerves more. His face was so neutral it was like he wasn't pleasuring you at all as he chewed, listening to your words. "I mean," your voice came out unevenly as you tried to calm yourself against his movements. "He'll be replaced before something drastic can happen." Your voice dropped an octave as his finger slipped into you. He positioned his hand to a more comfortable angle and your hand dropped to wrap around his wrist, beginning him to stop. "Too bad this one wasn't an actor," you joked.

"So, how do they go about replacing a Senator?" George questioned, his face almost breaking into a smile as your eyes shot daggers into his. His finger curled inside of you, making you breathe deeply, your eyes wanting to squeeze shut in pleasure.

You furrowed your brows, feeling like you were running a marathon. "Oh, come on, I know you already know how the US system runs."

His finger sped up and before you knew it, another one was added. "Yeah, I'm still not entirely sure though." He continued to sidestep so the attention of the section of the table was on you. You clamped your thighs together, hoping to stop his movements but instead drew his fingers deeper into you.

Your mind blurred. "Well, um..." You wet your lips, trying not to look like you were jonesing to grind against George's palm to finally get yourself off. Your hand ran up against his arm again, the veins bulging as his hands quickened, making you see stars as your climax was almost within reach. George's mom and your dad began to make their rounds at the table, thanking people as they went.

"Are you okay? You look kind of flushed," George commented, making his mother's brow furrow. You sighed, wanting to dig your face into the crook of his neck or kiss him: anything, you just needed more of him. He removed his fingers from you and you let out a small noise, he slyly wiped his hands on his napkin and you grabbed his hand beneath the table, lacing your fingers and squeezing as if to motion your urgency.

George's mother pressed the back of her hand against your warm cheeks. "I'm fine..." you commented, looking up at her momentarily, your hand gripping onto George's.

His mother sighed. "Are you sure? I can drive you home if you're not feeling well?" Your father came around the table at her words and you were more embarrassed than anything.

"What's going on?" The man commented, his smile faltering.

His mother frowned. "She's not feeling well, dear."

"Don't worry about it, mum. I can take her," George piped up, running his thumb over the back of your hand before letting go of you and standing up. A chorus of goodbyes called to you as you assured your father and his future bride that you were really fine, just tired, as George helped you into your jacket. You found it difficult to stand with how unsatisfied you were. You followed him out into the cold air around one side of the building as he almost stalked to an expensive-looking car. Your eyebrow perked at the vehicle. "Like it?" He asked, his smug grin making your blood boil.

"What was that back there?" You nipped, pulling on his arm so he was looking at you, his grin widening.

"Which part?" He got dangerously close to you. "When you couldn't handle my fingers, or when you were begging me to get you off?" Your breathing shallowed once again, either from how furious you were at him or how turned on you were you didn't know. His hand settled on your neck, bringing your lips towards his briefly in a searing kiss. "Don't worry, love. You have it coming for you still." Fuck, you wanted him to rip you in half. He dangled the keys in front of your face. "Wanna drive?"

You groaned slightly, unlocking his car and opening the passenger door, shoving him inside and climbing into his lap, shutting the door behind yourself. "Fuck you," you bit. His grin darkened and he pulled the lever on the seat, laying the seat down a bit further. One of his large hands slipped against your thigh again, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him hungrily, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.

God, he wasn't even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises. You wanted him to mark you. The car windows began to fog as your movements and George's warm breath filled the air. "Fuck, I want you," he growled into your ear.

"Take me home," you almost whimpered, halting your actions. His hand moved to your neck again, pressing his lips against yours.

"Beg," he demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want, baby."

"I said take me home," you breathed. His dark eyes searched yours for submission, but you were quite flustered from tonight's events. You needed a few moments to collect your thoughts on what George could be thinking about doing to you as 'punishment'. You climbed off of him into the driver's seat ready to take his car for a spin. You noticed just how much George's actions had affected you as you felt your hands shaking to take the wheel. You could feel his eyes raking over you as you put the car in drive. You were determined to make it home in one piece and not a complete puddle of need, but even the thought of his eyes on you were making that task completely impossible.

"What to do, what to do," he almost tsked next to you. "You've really got me going tonight haven't you," he seemed to ask, but you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. You could feel his warm hand coming into contact with your leg, you wet your lips, attempting to shake the thought of desire he seemed to be flooding you with and keep the car under control. His hand slowly started to progress further towards your heat and for the second time tonight, you weren't all that opposed to the thought of his long fingers curling inside you again.

"We're here," you managed to squeak out. George was already out and at your door before you had managed to undo your seatbelt. He bent down, reached over you and undid it for you, making sure to keep his contact with every inch of you he could. His arms scoped you up to carry you into the house and up the stairs to his room. You hadn't been to his room since you had met him. It was sort of like a secret law that it was off-limits and a privilege if you were invited inside. Not even his mom was allowed into the dwellings of his layer. You had just enough time to notice the picture on the dresser was of the two of you and your blend of cousins posed on the family couch last Christmas before your body was thrust on to the linen-covered mattress. You had never seen his eyes this shade before, they were so dark and full of lust. You were drinking in every detail of him just as much as he was of you.

"Take your clothes off," he stated smoothly standing at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on your body. Complying quickly, you unbuttoned your blouse, slipping it off your shoulders to reveal your flushed chest. George's eyes widened at the sight knowing you were already in such need of him you could barely contain yourself any longer. He slowly mimicked your actions removing his dress shirt leaving you in awe of the man standing before you and the endless possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. His fingers danced up your legs teasing your all too sensitive core. His fingers traced your center just barely being covered by the cloth entrapment. You were ready for anything he was willing to give you. His body shifted, his arm reaching across you into the bedside drawer and revealing a pair of bright red furry handcuffs. Your breath caught in your throat, this was not what you were expecting and still, you felt ready for George's idea of punishment. You had never been bound before, but were more than ready to try anything to overcome your excessive need for friction.

"Place your hands out in front of you," he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. You did as you were told feeling the faux material covered clasp around your wrists leaving your arms entirely under the command of George. You heard the clang of other cuffs being brought out, you turned your attention to him just as his lips crashed on to yours sealing your lips into a lustful kiss. His hands outlined your arms all the way to your wrists that were held together. His fingers wrapped around the metal pushing your arms above your head and locking them against the headboard. Your heart pounded with excitement as he traced your body down with kisses, brushing the inside of your thighs with his hands. You knew where this was leading and your body was ready. His actions halted just above where you needed him the most as he locked eyes with you almost teasing you with anticipation. "Tell me what you need," his dark tone murmured. You had no words. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The only action you were capable of was attempting to open your legs to answer his question.

His toned arms slipped under your legs wrapping around your hips as he positioned himself between you. Your toes curled in pleasure as his warm breath drew closer to you. It seemed as if time was in slow motion: you needed him and you needed him now. His eyes were still locked on yours as he came in contact with your heat. Your legs attempted to close in response to the feeling as you moaned in pain and pleasure from the restraints holding you back from grabbing his hair. The rumble of his laughter against you was almost enough to send you over the edge as he pushed your legs back open for better access to you. The sight of him down on you was more than enough to drive you crazy, but his pace was beginning to quicken and you didn't think you could last much longer. Your eyes drifted shut as pleasure was taking the better of you. George slipped a finger inside earning a gasp from your lips as he began to finger fuck you. Your high was approaching quickly and you needed more. "Faster," you mumbled.

"What was that sweetheart," George muttered against you.

"Faster," you begged. George complied, seeing you like this was driving him crazy. His fingers pounded into you as he sucked your nub. The knot in your stomach tightened. Finally, you were able to get relief from the tension George had built up all night as you released. "Oh fuck," you moaned as George hovered above you.

"Ready for round two love," he quipped darkly. You were more than happy to accept his rough kisses. His slight stubble was rough against your chin, you knew you'd pay for it in the morning, but tonight a little burn was the least of your worries. "Are you going to do as you're told," he whispered into your neck, accent gruff and domineering.

"Yes sir," you responded almost too naturally as his strong arms flipped you unto your stomach. He adjusted your knees underneath you so that you had support underneath him.

His hand wound into your hair as he slipped inside of you and began thrusting leaving you no time to adjust to him. Moans of pure bliss escaped your lips as his head neared yours. "Might want to keep quiet, love, someone's home," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear lobe. Your need to scream for more now had to be muted and the only sound heard was the slapping of his skin against yours. George used your hips as leverage for his unwavering pace leaving you a mess of pleasure beneath him. His lips found their way to your neck as he nipped against the sensitive skin. You wanted him to mark you, to claim you. His hand from your hair became wrapped around your throat as he began to reach his peak. His hand slapped your ass with such force you knew there was a handprint, but you were too overwhelmed with the noises escaping his lips and your high threatened to disobey your control to be concerned with the sting. If anything it threatened to push you over the edge. George could feel you threatening to release. His strong hand wrapped tightly around your neck again, "Don't cum until I give you permission," he mumbled darkly against your shoulder. You tried your best to obey him fighting all erg to give in to the pleasure he teased you with. Slowing his pace he thrust deeper into you earning quiet moans from your lips. You couldn't hold on much longer.

"Can I cum," you whined. George grunted in response tangling his hand in your hair and thrusting deeper into you hitting your sweet spot with every move.

"Cum for me love," he practically bit against your shoulder sending you into a scream of pleasure as you were finally able to ride out your high against him. You could feel him twitch inside of you filling you with warmth. He unchained your hands from the bed frame allowing your body to return to your back. He flopped next to you and kissed you lightly. "That was amazing," he whispered against your lips. Exhausted from the escapade of the night you simply laid your head on his chest in response and pulled the sheets up for the both of you to drift off to sleep.

Your head pounded as you opened your eyes, the blinding light streaming through your windows serving to ruin your morning. You shivered slightly, realizing you were fully naked and a slight panic set in as you thought about last night, your body already aching from George's tactics. You shut your eyes momentarily, thinking about him on top of you once again, moaning in your ear, his hand around your throat, and realized the aching was worth it. You weren't surprised when you found the bed beside you empty, your ears perking up at the muffled sounds of someone in the kitchen. You quickly got dressed and trampled down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, you were greeted by your father like he had the day before, only instead of a woman at the head of the table, George smirked up at you. Your eyes glued to his, your body feeling heat once again.

You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "I thought the bride and groom weren't supposed to see each other until the wedding?" You asked, voice slightly uneven as you took a seat across from George, gingerly sipping the orange juice in front of you and attempting not to wince at the beard burn on your chin from George's slight whiskers the night before. George watched you carefully, a flash of pride in his eyes at your flustered state.

George's mother chuckled. "There are worse things to doom a marriage," she joked, flashing a wink up towards your father who was cutting some kind of fruit.

He shook his head. "So, where did you two run off last night?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Bonding," George answered coolly.

His mother raised her eyebrows. "Bonding? How? Wasn't she sick last night?"

Your mind was blank, but George was quick on his feet. "She got to feeling better on the way, so I took her to a strip club. She left with a man named," he paused, turning to you, a smug look on his face, "what was his name? Alejandro?"

Your eyes went wide with shock. "Ah! That's my girl!" Your dad called from over the stove and you groaned as George laughed making your eye twitching.

[genuflectx]

Alien/Reader {Xenith}

Length: 12,346 words

Main Themes: Aliens, fluff, consensual human pets, pet shows, micro/macro, comfort,

Other Warnings: Grief, global warming, mention of surgery, physical exam, telepathy, insects, space travel, broken family, being poor

SHOUT OUT to my beta readers! RosalieBear and Volurin!

(all images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine)

If you enjoy this writing, consider joining my patreon! $5 donors get to see half of stories like these before publishing, and $10 donors see the whole thing a full month before everyone else!

1/25/2020: REPOST

There was just nothing left for you on Earth. Nothing. The last thing you felt before leaving that dirt ball was relief.

The tides had risen significantly, draining into unprepared cities and tourist destinations. Corporations had seen it coming but had pockets too fat to ever consider a change. The little people wanted change; cried for it. There was simply no one around to listen. You could no longer stand to see your home planet dying in front of you. You’d already lost a pen-pal to the flood waters of a grand hurricane, inspired by the boiling sea.

The city you grew up in became more violent as you aged. You tried not to come out of your shoddy apartment if you could, wanting to avoid the risk of becoming the center of the next vigil. It wasn’t the peoples’ fault, widespread economic inequality plunged more and more innocents into unavoidable poverty. Even you saw some of that pain when one year, you were forced to live off of noodles, rice, and beans, courtesy of a broken limb. Medical bills weren’t cheap in your country.

But the worst of it wasn’t the failing climate or the civil unrest. It was the sheer loneliness. Your family was scattered; decades were punctuated by uneasy gatherings that just reiterated why it was you only met once every ten fucking years. Good god, even the aunt who was supposedly the nice one gave you the migraine of the century. And your parents? They’d broken your heart.

You’d had a generally good relationship with your mother and father, even if they always felt the need to fight against your every life decision. Your mother had contracted an avoidable ailment, believing only in alternative medicines, and passed away. Your father, unable to cope, spiraled into an understandable depression, and hadn’t been the same since. He did not believe in psychology or medications taken for mental health, much like your mother. And there was nothing you could do to change that. Years after your mother’s passing, you became distant from your father.

So there really was nothing for you left on Earth. Nothing but worsening weather, crushed rebellions, and your ever silent pay-as-you-go phone. But the Xenith homeworld, beaming with white light? It would be a clean slate. A new life.

It was nearly a decade ago that the Xenith had made first contact. They were easy going, monstrously big creatures, that became overly excited when they’d met their first human. They had no intention of meddling in human politics. No no, Earth was much too messy. But they thought the humans themselves were so interesting, that at the first world-wide conference with Earth’s leaders, they asked humanity to ship people to their planet as soon as possible. The world leaders had naturally been baffled. ‘Ship’ humans like a product? They did not agree. The Xenith had been disappointed but understood.

But, after many years of discussion, of voting, of drawing contracts, a few countries were finally on board. And it was all free. The Xenith provided everything needed to pay for transport. They even trained humans for and oversaw the surgeries that were necessary for humanity to survive in their atmosphere and gravity.

So, after having robotic organs implanted directly into your body, going through a long recovery process, and packing a few small bags, you were shepherded onto a spacecraft and given a room. You boarded without even looking back. Not even a text goodbye to your family. You were certain they would never even notice you were out of state, let alone off planet.

The journey wasn’t so terrible, if you were honest with yourself. Most of the staff were human, save for a single Xenith translator. But being near that one Xenith was simply… astounding. You got the feeling you would never lose the awe you had upon being in the same room as one, let alone if you were ever in the presence of a whole crowd.

It was true that they were giants. When knuckle-walking on all fours, they must have been at least fifteen to twenty feet tall. When standing bipedal, even taller. Their pads were soft, black to dark-blue, and stretched across ninety percent of their four thick fingers and beyond the knuckles. Then, their feet had three round toes with equally as thick padding on the soles.

Their bodies were smooth and rubbery, with semi-glittery skin, as if partially transparent. Skin colors ranged from pale blues, pinks, yellows, and grays, to the rare dark gray. They had four slits in their lower chest from which they breathed from, and instead of hair around the edges, there was a lace like material to protect the delicate flesh within. Tails were usually cropped, but if not cropped at birth then they would grow long and stiff. Their pelvic bone was theropod-like. It made them sit funny.

Despite their cold outward appearance and inability to express as widely as a human, they donned their bodies in beautiful clothes. The translator themself wore bright, pumpkin-orange fabrics over their body, which was embroidered with dark red thread. Their clothes were not tight fitting. Rather, they made one reminiscent of blankets thrown over horses during winter. Perhaps they even looked like capes, especially when they stood on their back feet.

Xenith were just amazing. You could hardly believe one of those beasts was supposedly going to adopt you. You couldn’t imagine how life with one would play out.

While the trip was very accommodating, and the watchful presence of the translator kept everyone up to date, the food had been a down side. Apparently supplying enough goodies for the re-locating humans had been too expensive after all those surgeries. Only the ship staff got the real stuff. Everyone else got flavored paste in pouches. The alien promised better grub upon arrival, as the government run ‘companion shops’ were very eager to receive a new shipment of humans.

“Thhhey’re the new favorittte,” the translator had bellowed with their strange, five-pronged tongue. “humansss…. are so cute! You will be treated well.”

You had a lot of thinking to do while the craft took its two month journey into the stars. This was considered a 'job’ or 'volunteer work’ by the humans who arranged the set up. But to the Xenith, it was much more. It made you wonder exactly what the nature of being a 'companion’ was. Before deciding to leave, you had done a little reading, but only enough to know that you were eligible and able to leave as soon as possible. The rest of the information on what the job entailed would come to you through the translator.

Xenith rarely spoke aloud, and when they did it was slow and booming with a lisp. Otherwise, communication lay in their skilled telepathic abilities. Their satellite dish heads and six wriggly antenna aided their inward conversation, but did not translate well with lesser species, including humans. It was very difficult for them to learn human languages. Luckily, the translator had become an expert over the year.

“When you arrive,” said the alien, their tongue pronouncing 'v’ as 'fph,’ “you will come to be placcced into public viewing roomsss in designated adoption locations. Many will be waittting. Many will want you.”

Someone in the back of the orientation room asked “So, this is like an apprenticeship, right?”

That had confused the Xenith. They blinked and took a brief moment to think, the skinny antennae on their flat head fidgeting. Eventually their brain pulled up the translation, and they perked up. “No, this is not ssservitude. You learn no trade. But if any harm comesss to you, you will be removed. Not that harm comesss your way. We cannot think to hurt our companion.”

“And we can leave whenever we want? If we don’t like it? I read that we could!” asked someone else skeptically.

They nodded. “Whenever you would like. But… you would break your master'sss heart, as you term the phrase,”

The more you learned about the species during your transport, the more you realized what the translator had said was pretty literal. Humanity liked to imagine itself as a quick-to-pack-bond species, but the Xenith had them beat. Their whole psychology was based so heavily around emotional bonding that when a pet passed away, it nearly killed them. For their companion to dislike them so much that they would leave willingly, it meant absolute heart break to the Xenith. You wouldn’t doubt that organ failure due to the strain of separation was possible too, but that was only a guess.

It was all as the translator had said. Upon arrival the humans were relocated to sprawling government facilities that housed creatures looking to be adopted. Both sentient and non-sentient species were presented. You were placed into a rather roomy, glass-walled space at the front of the building. Two other humans lived with you, and through the right-sided wall, you could see another group of three inside of their own spacious glass room. It truly reminded you of a combination pet shop and apartment complex, if not for the hovering aliens constantly peeping over the glass.

A caretaker, who did not speak any human languages, made sure all was well three times a day. Hot food and heavily filtered water were always available. The three of you had your own rooms with human beds, which the Xenith cleaned once a day.

You’d never had a maid before. It gave you a vague sense of guilt that you weren’t cleaning the room yourself, but the caretaker did not seem to mind. If anything, they acted as if they had the most wondrous job on the planet; humming aloud and talking cheerfully to the pets despite language barriers.

Over the course of three days your bunk mates had been adopted. You grew sad and alone, wondering why it was you that had yet to be chosen. Humans were supposed to be the new favorites, right? There were certainly a great number of Xenith who still visited your cage, but after they spoke with the caretaker, they left to view other options.

What was so wrong with you? Was it something the caretaker said that scared everyone away? Many a night was spent at the edge of your tidy little bed, lost in thought. Anxiety plagued your heart. Maybe this was a mistake.

At the very least, there was a particular Xenith that visited you once a day. You wanted to believe that they were interested in having you, but worry got the best of your troubled mind. For all you knew, they just pitied you; glancing down into the glass thinking how it was so sad no one actually wanted to take you home. You sighed.

This alien had four fleshy horn-like appendages on their satellite dish head, in which the top-most left horn was shorter, as if by past injury. A deep dark red cloak was tied over their back, which fluttered and swayed as they padded on their knuckles. The reds, accented by golds, contrasted the pale, desaturated blue of their silvery skin. They also had a cropped tail, and whenever they greeted the caretaker, their tail stub and six pink antennae would wiggle.

You hoped with all your heart that they were thinking about picking you. You couldn’t take the loneliness any longer. That was the main reason why you left Earth, after all. Still, the nagging fear that you would not be wanted, not even by the supposedly pack bonding Xenith, instilled a deeply rooted misery in your twisting guts.

Another despairing week passed by. In the morning, that particular red-robed Xenith came to your display for the dozenth time. The caretaker came with them, and they were both glancing down at you and across to one another silently. You squinted, wondering what the pale giants were telecommuting about.

“(And all is settled? The shipment is now here? It must be perfect.)”

The inner eye lids of the caretaker’s eyes blinked slowly. “(Correct, Sientia. The import of human belongings has docked. Expect delivery today.)”

Sientia was delighted, their upper most and longest antenna coiling together with excitement. They gently lifted and pressed the pads of their knuckles to the ground, as if prancing in place. Now that the secondary ships containing Earth goods were finally arriving, caring for human pets would be a lot easier. There had to be good beds, good bathrooms, good food and clothes. So, tomorrow, Sientia would come back and remove you from the lonely communal homes.

Sientia, some short time before, had reached the end of their mourning period. As a Xenith, companionship was the main driving force of their life. So when their previous pet passed away of old age, they fell into a deep, sorrowful grief, and decided if they survived mourning, the next one must have a longer life span. It just so happened that the long-lived alien species, Homo sapiens, were finally agreeing to put their people into the Xenith pet program.

So, Sientia had given away some of their extra crop in order to secure their pick of the next human pet shipment. Each craft carried fifty at a time, so demand was very high, especially being that it was first come first serve with pets. And on the first day of your shipment’s arrival, Sientia had chosen you. You were the perfect shape, and with the despairing history listed in your files, Sientia knew you had to be the one. How could they choose any other human to be their companion? They would give you a happy life.

Both of the giants began to stare down at you, and you stared back. The visitor lifted back their lips (or what barely constituted as lips) and bore their flat teeth in what you assumed was meant to be a smile. Xenith facial expressions were rather empty, since they spoke telepathically. This one was acting on purpose. They were hoping to elicit comfort from you. Instead, something about the attention made you embarrassed and you looked back down.

The next day the funny blue-tinted alien arrived to take you home. They were accompanied by the caretaker, who was in very good spirits. Sientia splayed out their huge palm inside the glass, awaiting your reaction. Instantly, the caretaker jolted.

“(You may scare the thing away with such forward action! It is typical to allow me to place the pet into a container for relocation. If they bite you or become injured, I am not liable.)”

Sientia barely flinched at the warning, instead focusing on you. It was as if they had not heard the caretaker at all. “(Come, come. I am taking you home!)”

When Sientia 'spoke,’ you heard nothing. Rather, you felt the strangest tickle in your brain that traveled down your spine, and you got the sense that they were asking for your attention.

Glancing slowly from the hand to the strange salamander face above you, you suddenly realized you were being adopted. Relief washed over you and, with a nervous smile, you climbed on.

You flailed and got to your knees when the hand moved. Gravity pressed down on you gently as Sientia lifted you up, up, up out of the glass apartment and into the air. They stopped you close to their face, where you could look deeply into their six pink neon eyes.

“…H-hi,” you peeped, feeling as vulnerable as a bare baby.

“(Look, they are brave! I will carry them,)” Sientia imparted happily to the caretaker.

“(Very well. Allow them to collect their belongings, then you may leave. Please contact us if you require additional supplies. And you,)” The caretaker gestured towards you with their long antennae. “(You must be good to Sientia. Their body is weak from mourning.)”

Of course, you heard nothing.

So you gathered your things and went home with them in the most horrifying way possible; over twenty feet in the air. They trod home on two feet. The world moved passed you in a blur of light and color, and when Sientia noticed you shaking, they placed their other hand over you to create a comfortable bubble of safety. You wrapped your arms around one of their thick fingers so you could feel some sense of security.

Eventually you arrived. Before letting you down, they moved into a specific room and closed the door behind them. It was best to let pets grow used to their new environment slowly. One room would do for now.

“(There you are,)” they comforted. They placed you and your suitcase at the mouth of a house-sized 'cage,’ which rested upon a high surface. “(Nice and easy.)”

The comforting words fell upon deaf ears. You stood there shaking, still feeling adrenaline pumping in your veins. You barely shifted to glance back at the uncomfortably square human-sized door.

Sientia stared at you. When you only moved to cross your arms, they snorted from the nostrils of their chest and went away to a device embedded in the wall. They touched the screen. A couple of choice pages were pulled up, to which they read greedily from. Images were downloaded.

They glanced back at you. Back to the screen. Back at you. Then they lumbered over and sat down nearby.

“(I see I have made a mistake, your expression seems to be 'unhappy,’ or 'distant.’ You are a brave human. But. I may have been irresponsible to carry you before you were ready. I got, excited.)”

They studied your face for a while longer, their expression hard to read. Xenith had a perma-smile, much like dolphins. Sometimes it was unnerving to look at.

You looked away, feeling awkward to be stared at silently. Soon you began to glance around the gigantic room, noticing the state of your surroundings. Besides Sientia’s bed (what looked like a pile of cloth in a long box), a computer poking out of the wall, and the smooth counter top that your cage sat upon, the room was eerily empty. The walls were a pale, metallic pink, and a heavy light emulated the sun overhead. No windows.

Sientia huffed. They decided they would attempt to communicate better. They didn’t know your language, but they had learned a few words and phrases in preparation for your arrival. They’d probably butcher them, but hopefully you would understand. Earth languages did not come easily with their sticky, five pronged tongue.

“(Perhaps I should have began with) Hello, I am called Sssientia.”

You started frightfully. You didn’t think this one could talk!

“Could you speak the whole time? Um, I’m [Y/N]. Your name is… pretty. Ssssen-ccchia,” you enunciated. It sounded more harsh from your toothy mouth, though.

They perked up, pleased. Finally, your attention was back upon them. Now you both knew each other’s names. Not a bad start!

“Hungry?” asked the giant, trying to speak softly so as not to frighten you.

You smiled shyly. That spooky ride to your new home had made you forget you hadn’t had breakfast. “Yes, a little.” you replied.

Sientia knew 'yes.’ They made a low, throaty sound and stood up on all fours, then got to their two feet. You were left alone in the empty room as the alien fetched something to eat. Curiosity over came you; what would they bring back? The adoption facility had given you baked chicken, fresh corn-on-the-cob, and ripe fruits like peaches and pears. Would your new owner present the same? Your belly rumbled.

They returned, hopeful you would like the foods they were given from the companion facility. Sientia plopped down carefully and lowered their palm. Inside was a cucumber, a hunk of warm, uncut bread, and a fat chicken leg. The meal looked miniscule in their oversized grasp.

“Strange combination,” you mumbled with a smirk, accepting the food. There was no plate, so you just nibbled straight from their hand.

Sientia’s antennae wiggled and curled with joy. They watched their little pet eat from their palm; a new sense of adoration and comfort washing over them. They had a good feeling about you, even if they still hurt from their previous loss.

They’d been so terribly sad when their previous pet had passed. Sientia had known that it was coming. That species only lived about twenty-five years, which for a human, was fifteen Earth years. But it was still a shock when they’d woken to find their beloved friend gone. Even while watching you eat, they felt a small tang of pain. The mourning period was over, but the sadness of memory never really left.

As you crunched straight into the juicy cucumber, Sientia crunched down on something too. You stared up, head cocking in confusion. When Sientia noticed, they slowly lowered the partially eaten food to your level for you to get a good look-see.

You stepped back. “Ah! That’s a HUGE bug!”

The half-eaten insect-like fauna was removed from your space as soon as Sientia realized it scared you. Seemed like a lot about the Xenith world frighten a human, but they hoped you would come to enjoy it in time.

“(It is tasty, I raise them. Perhaps I will show you the farm someday. But staying very close. You are a good snack for large livestock, like this one,)” they gestured by lifting the insect in hand, then biting off another gooey chunk.

You shuddered and averted your eyes. Gross. How could you forget? Xenith were well known on Earth as a people who consumed 'gargantuan pests.’ Great measures were taken to bar them from entering livestock onto Earth when they visited. Dead ones only. They’d surely cause a massive plague if not kept well under watch. Yet, here on the Xenith home planet, they were farmed far and wide as a main source of food.

You weren’t hungry anymore.

The rest of the day was spent inside that one room, exploring. That is to say, exploring what little there was to actually explore. Your cage was like a little house: a cozy bedroom with a king-sized bed, a spacious bathroom (plumbing and all), a small library with books in many languages, and a more open area for eating.

The cage did not have a ceiling, except for the bathroom. One of the walls of your bedroom was glass, while the dining room was all glass. By contrast, both the library and the bathroom were made of painted wooden walls.

Below the cage there was empty space, empty space, empty space. Perhaps for Sientia this was a small room, but to a human it was a beaming cathedral. You felt like a ladybug when you tottered about the bottom edges of Sientia’s thickly blanketed bed. Sientia kept a close eye on you while you sniffed around. They did not want to step on you.

The day was long on this planet. A cycle was thirty-two Earth hours. You ended up taking a five hour 'nap’ in the mid-day. Had a second meal. Then about three hours after that, Sientia gently put you back to bed and dimmed the room’s light.

After a very, very long sleep, you were awoken as Sientia stirred about the house. You rose drowsily. Good god, you hoped a few months on that schedule would see you adjusting to it well. Your circadian rhythm, so far, was displeased. Days too long, nights too long. But you’d live.

As you slipped an old T-shirt over your head, Sientia appeared, looking in above you. They watched you a bit, but you were reluctant to do anything while feeling like a walking television.

“Uh, hi,” you waved awkwardly.

“Hi,” Sientia repeated. They did not know many words. “Hungry?”

Food was already set out for you in the dining area. You had a breakfast of scrambled eggs (a little rubbery), pancakes (with maple embedded), and a sliced apple (salted). When you were full, Sientia slid one of the glass walls out of place. You didn’t know those were removable!

A hand was laid down. “[Y/N], come, (I am going to get you many nice things to wear.)”

You grimaced. You didn’t want to be carried around like that again just yet. “I would rather not.”

Sientia’s antennae moved subtly, thinking, then they understood the issue. The hand came back up as they puffed out their chest. Sientia pointed to a harness. Right above their four nostrils was a backpack like carrier, which was strapped around their shoulders. It reminded you of a baby wrap or purse, but much, much larger. It even had a few pouches in front for accessories, such as food or toys.

“You had one of those? Why did you carry me in your hand yesterday!” It was more scolding than it was a question.

Sientia bellowed a response, but you got the feeling that it was as meaningful as a human meowing back at a cat.

“…Alright, okay. Let’s just do this then.”

So they cheerfully settled you into the pocket on their chest. It was deep enough that you would not have to see the world, if you choose not to climb up and look.

You spent the ride curled up close to the side of the pouch that Sientia’s skin touched on the other side. You thought you could hear a heartbeat from there, but that was surely impossible. Xenith didn’t have hearts. At least, not in the human sense. Still, there was the steady pulse of their body, thumping gently and keeping you calm. And since you were so close to their nostrils, hot air constantly warmed the pouch. You wondered if this was how a lap dog felt while being carried in a purse. It was nice. You nearly forgot that you were being carried far from the ground.

Finally, Sientia came to their destination. It was a little pet boutique that sold many different types of imported clothes, specializing in sentient species. It had recently begun to acquire shipments of imported human goods.

Sientia had been devastated to see what little you had brought with you, and was determined to put you in something better. You may have left your new home wearing a hole-worn T-shirt, but you would return wearing lavish threads.

“(Hello, what species do you shop for?)” asked the retailer, who was dressed in extravagant magenta fabrics.

You poked your head out, nervous eyes wandering around.

“(Eh! You care for a human! So cute! Yes, yes, we have many clothes for humans. Please, let them down to browse, and we may write up a payment plan.)”

Sientia helped you to the floor and the retailer pointed them towards the human section. It looked small, but it was truly as expansive as a mega-chain on Earth.

“Y/N,” Sientia gestured towards the clothes and gave you a nudge.

You hadn’t been paying much attention and stumbled, catching your balance by grasping onto a clothes rack. Upon realizing the rack was proportionate to your size, you gawked. Your wide, surprised eyes drank in the sight; rows upon rows of imported human goods. Dresses, jackets, shorts, coats, an extensive section of underwear. You looked back at Sientia with awe.

“Are you actually going to buy me clothes?” you peeped, barely audible enough for the pale giant.

When they gestured towards the rows again, you turned and began to tear through the selection.

You tried on clothes for an Earth hour. When you’d come out from the (far too big) stalls to show Sientia, they were always overjoyed with how stunning you looked. It didn’t seem to matter what you picked out, it simply pleased them that you were having so much fun.

At the checkout line, you had garment after garment piled up in your arms. You couldn’t remember the last time your face had hurt from smiling this long. Sientia carefully petted your head with a round finger tip before taking the clothes and checking out. You’d gotten all that you’d wanted, and instead of being chided, your master was brimming with elation. No one had ever been so glad to throw their money away on you. Not even your parents. You tried to massage your cheeks to relax them while the retailer and Sientia finished up their business.

Back home, you folded and hung your new threads up neatly. Then you strutted about bearing a fancy faux fur coat and patterned leggings. You even had new name brand shoes. None of it matched, but it was more than you’d ever had. To show off like a proud peacock made you blush, but Sientia purred and grumbled happily, finding you quite humorous. You couldn’t help but enjoy their attention after such a nice outing together.

They brought their head down to the table. “(You seem so happy and look so good! I hope I’m doing well by you, so that you may want to stay with me.)”

You came near. Avoiding their watchful gaze, you nervously lifted a hand and patted their snout, between the smaller eyes. “Thank you for all of this, really. I was worried about being here, but I think… maybe you have a good heart. Or,” you laughed “maybe you just like to spend extravagant amounts of money to show off? Well.. I’m grateful.”

They audibly chirped at you in reply, nuzzling the hand carefully with affection.

A few days went by uneventfully. Then one day, while you were being allowed to explore the (much larger) main chamber, a loud beep alerted Sientia to visitors.

They opened the door. “(Antha, you’re here! Welcome! It’s been very long, please come and have a drink. Where is your- eh! Your human is on your head! Doesn’t that hurt?)”

The dark gray Xenith bumped a padded fist with Sientia in greeting, then chuckled out loud. They came inside as they spoke. “(Only a little, it tickles now mostly. We are close, so I am not annoyed! Now, where is yours that you tell me so much about? I’ve been eager for ours to meet. It is good for humans to have a friend. They’re social beings.”)

You carefully stepped under a table, watching the guest enter. Upon the other’s dark, wide set head, a human stood and clung to antennae with both of their hands. It frightened you even to look at. Good god, that was high. They could slip at any moment and plummet to their death. You had to look away so it didn’t make you queasy.

“Come,” called Sientia as the two Xenith laid on blankets around the shallow table.

So you came out and were placed upon the surface, which was covered with a thin, patterned cloth. Likewise, the guest brought down their companion. Instead of going to greet one another, you both remained close to the side your master lay at. But then Antha spoke an alien language out loud, and their human came to you.

“Hey. Antha thinks I need to talk to someone of my own species I guess. So uh,” he stuck out his hand awkwardly.

What was this, a business meeting? You hesitantly accepted the shake. This man was possibly ten years older than you and was wearing casual, comfortable clothes. He spoke with a slight accent, which you were unfamiliar with. But the most interesting feature was that when Antha spoke to him again, he actually turned and understood.

“So like… you can understand them?”

The man turned back to you. “Uh, not really,” he pointed at a device in his ear. “Antha just got us digital translators. I mean, some of the words don’t translate very well, and there’s some lag, but it’s better than nothing. I think my master is going to give yours one! Say, how long have you been a pet?”

While you and the other chatted idly, Sientia and Antha caught up.

“(So… you’ve been feeling better?)” Antha asked quietly in Sientia’s head.

Sientia’s eyes became downcast. “(I… suppose so. It’s hard to adjust to something new after being with someone for so long. It’s going to take a while.)”

Antha lowered their head in understanding.

“(It still hurts. As I rest, my body aches,)” their six antennae moved sluggishly and drooped.

Antha attempted to comfort. “(I am here. And so is- what do you call your companion? They will sooth your ache too.)”

“([Y/N], a good name. I believe they are feeling well about their new home. The cage is proportioned correctly, and they have eaten nearly everything I’ve given them. We do not communicate well, because we cannot understand one another, but I feel that they are generally happy so far.)”

Antha’s head bobbed, remembering they’d come for a reason. “(Th, yes! Here, accept this gift!)” they then dug something out of the pouch around their chest. There was a strange object, meant to be clipped onto one of the large antennas. Then, beside it, a tinier object that looked like a grain of sand in the palm of a Xenith.

“(Gift?)”

“(See that I speak to my human so easily? This is a translator! My friend, you’ve been through such grief, you deserve something nice. Please accept it.) Clarence dear, help [Y/N] with the device.”

The man stopped talking and perked up at his name. He nodded, and took the small piece when it was lowered to him. He helped you do basic set up while Antha fit the bigger piece onto Sientia. It took about ten minutes to get everything all settled, but luckily, it wasn’t too difficult.

“Can you hear me?” asked your master nervously.

You gasped then smiled. Amazing! “Yes! Yes, I understand perfectly! This is so cool!”

Clarence returned to the side of Antha and sat in their hand, satisfied.

“It works well,” spoke Antha, rubbing their thumb gently over their pet’s back.

“Thank you Antha! Th- [Y/N], are you happy?”

Emotions were mingling and mixing intensely inside of you. So when Sientia suddenly popped that question, you had to take a moment to process it. That was only the third question Sientia had asked you since meeting, and it was such a selfless one. You blushed.

“I-I-I mean-” you stammered. “-this world is… different. But the air is clean and the people are kind, so.. yeah. I’m pretty happy,” you spilled. “Anything beats Earth.”

You glanced back at Clarence and Antha. Clarence was rubbing his face against Antha’s fingers affectionately like a cat. Your blush darkened and you snapped back to Sientia, who titled their head.

“Are you happy, Sientia?” you peeped. You wanted to add 'are you happy with ME?’ but did not.

“…Yes, see?” they put on a humanoid smile, teeth and all, like they had done before adopting you. But there was a thin layer of sadness under that reply.

You were quiet, but eventually smiled back. You hoped Sientia couldn’t understand the way your brows furrowed in concern.

After a short, awkward silence, Antha huffed and spoke up. “Sientia, [Y/N], have you considered competing yet?”

You looked back and forth between the two. “Competing?”

“(NO,)” Sientia lowered their head and looked away. “(Antha… you know that was Inridd'h and I’s favorite thing.)”

“(Yes, I’m sorry,)” they apologized, before lifting a grabby Clarence up onto their head. “(But I just… I also know how much it meant to you. To be able to train and spend so much time with your companion, and to show the crowd how much you trusted one another.”)

It seemed the Xenith were ignoring you. You sighed and sat down, legs crossed.

Sientia looked back up at Antha, their sad pink and cyan eyes like doe. They watched Clarence balance and keep a careful hold on Antha’s antennae. Eventually he made his way to the back of Antha’s head where their crest was, and settled there when Antha tilted their head forward. No sense of fear. Clarence knew Antha would not allow him to fall. Then, Sientia shifted to watch you. You sat so patiently, waiting for attention. Guilt struck the blue Xenith.

“[Y/N],” they called softly. “Would you like to compete?”

You straightened up. “Well, that probably depends on what you two mean by competing. Like… sports?”

Antha rumbled. “Perhaps not. It’s more similar to a, ehm, a 'dog show?'”

They didn’t sound too convinced of their own comparison. You scratched your head and leaned back on your hands. “So like, being dressed up and paraded around an arena? Or is it more like agility, where dogs run through tubes and go up ramps?”

Both of the aliens looked confused. It seemed they had difficulty explaining. Antha only had vague knowledge of how human dog shows worked, and Sientia was totally unaware of them. However, Clarence had been in a few small scale shows.

“It’s kind of a dog show plus beauty pageant!” he yelled from Antha’s head. Antha flinched in return, so Clarence apologized quietly for yelling so close to their sensitive antennae.

Sientia placed their head onto the table, where eye contact was easier. They looked like they were awaiting a response.

You stood and crossed your arms uncomfortably. A sense of dread sat in your guts. You thought about the nice new clothes you’d been given, and tried to imagine yourself walking down a stage all fluffed up. All your brain could conjure was the image of a crowd of Xenith and strange, beautiful alien creatures, wondering why it was you were so… ugly. Why were your clothes like that? Why walk that way? You imagined what they’d say.

'Oh, you know humanity is simply second to the slug peoples of planet Dirtemous. That’s why they all look and act so hilarious!’

Then the beautiful alien’s equally beautiful friend would laugh and reply. 'Yes, and what sort of awful thing would ever want to claim THAT particular human as a pet? I’d rather have the slug! Ho-ho-ho!’

You took a breath. What a stupid imagination you had. But even such an exaggerated, outlandish thought had some sort of truth in it. You were anxious. Not only were you worried about being scrutinized by strangers, you were also worried that you would embarrass your master. Sientia was a kind, lonely thing. They didn’t need you making things worse. You were just making yourself sadder and sadder, and the look in Sientia’s eyes did not help.

“You don’t have to agree, my pet,” they eventually added.

With one last glance at Clarence and Antha, you decided. You wanted to trust Sientia like that. You wanted to make them happy. So, you would try.

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be very good at it, or win anything, but… yes. I’ll compete,” you shrugged.

There was both pain and joy inside of Sientia. The notion that they were replacing a chunk of their heart that was once filled with their old pet devastated them. But they also knew the only way to recover was to keep going; to move forward. Inridd'h would not have wanted them to keep falling asleep at night aching for relief. Inridd'h did not smile upon them when they shut themself away.

Sientia, too, would try.

An overwhelming desire for comfort overtook Sientia, and they scooted their flat head forward to nuzzle you. It knocked you back a bit to have their whole head thrust up against your body, but you steadied and petted their head.

“Are you okay?” you asked, unaware of why it was they seemed so upset.

Antha stood up slowly. “It is time we head back home. Please keep in contact, Sientia. I care. We will want to come to your competition! Goodbye friends.”

“(Wait, you never had anything to drink!)”

But Antha and Clarence had already gotten to the door and let themselves out.

You hadn’t been sure what training for an alien competition would entail.

Apparently, you would be physically looked over to determine if you had good breeding. Like a dog. You didn’t look forward to that part very much, considering you were sentient and not some space lemur that could just be treated like decoration. This segment would also note your outfit. Sientia had said that this part of the competition would be worth less points than the rest of the competition.

Then, much like a pageant, you would show off your talents. This forced you to actually have to sit down one night and determine what the hell your talents even were. Running away from home, maybe? You got flashbacks from the horrific talent show in second grade. You did not want a repeat of that.

“I don’t think I really have any talents,” you admitted to your master as you sat comfortably in their bed.

Sientia laid down beside you, poking at a device in their hands. You supposed the device was much like a cell phone on Earth, but made for the Xeniths’ large, clumsy fingers. They were pulling up videos of humans performing various tasks, hoping to find a talent to suggest.

“Cooking?” they asked.

“I can cook packaged ramen. Maybe bake a potato. So no.”

“Horse riding? We do not have a 'horse,’ but they can provide something similar.”

You plopped over on your back, grimacing. “God, no.”

“Th! Humans are adequate at singing!”

“Um… let’s not even go there.”

With every suggestion your heart sank further and further. You should have never agreed. With a sigh you turned over onto your side, hoping to keep Sientia from seeing the way your eyes watered. You wiped at the sting.

“Sientia, really, I don’t think I can win this. So maybe I should give up before we get too deep.”

They sat up on their elbows, setting the device down. “I detect sadness in your voice. Did you change your mind?”

“I just don’t want to get your hopes up.”

The room was quiet a moment. Then the giant turned on their side and gently rubbed their finger along your back, hoping to ease the pain in your words. The sensation was… actually very nice.

“Please, do not be sad [Y/N]! You don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. The competition is simply an act, performed for the love of it, and perhaps sometimes for the prize! I don’t believe any companion’s master has been broken by a loss. I could not be disappointed if we lost. So, please feel better.”

You still had a heavy heart, but the reassurance that this was not anything serious helped you feel a bit easier. Knowing that Sientia already knew you could lose and did not care cheered you up even more.

“R-really?” you squeaked, turning onto your back once again.

They nodded, swiping their finger across your torso and belly as if to continue comforting.

You squeaked and grabbed the finger, face red. “That tickles!”

Sientia stopped and removed the appendage. “Eh! Sorry!” they looked away. “My… previous companion enjoyed belly rubs.”

Now it was Sientia who sounded sad.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

They thought, antennae moving slow as if fidgeting. Eventually they huffed out hot air and answered.

“They were bigger than you. Non-sentient. Covered in rough, damp skin. Very jumpy and loud, and they passed away in their favorite spot in the glass house. We… used to compete a lot. And I miss them,” Sientia seemed to sink into the blankets. “That is all I would like to say for now. I’m still hurting.”

You had to wipe at your eyes again. Memories of your mother played through your tumultuous brain, reminding you how grief could invade one’s life so fully. Even when your family had problems, you never could stifle or hide the hurt when she passed. After gaining courage, you stood and moved to curl up against Sientia’s skin.

The alien was surprised at the contact. They glanced down and felt their affection surge for you, the finger coming to your back again.

“You’re so much softer than Inridd'h. So much different.”

You curled against yourself tighter and nuzzled your forehead against their skin. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it is good that you’re different. I’m different than I once was, too. Please never be sorry for being yourself, my pet.”

After a minute or two of easy silence, they added. “Do you still want to compete, or have your changed your mind?”

Without hesitation, you replied. “I still want to do it. Maybe I can’t think of a talent off the top of my head, but… I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Together.”

In the end, you decided on painting. According to Sientia, Xenith were most fond of abstract art. That was something you could do. Though not formally trained, you’d painted a couple of shoddy pieces in the past that your parents had enjoyed. One had even been printed as a holiday greetings card, much to your embarrassment. But unlike the thickly globbed on acrylics of family pets and favored cartoon characters, you’d be working with thin watercolors to make something representational and abstract.

So you practiced and practiced. Sientia had even gotten you a nice new desk to sit and paint at. You’d use thin sheets of paper to work with, though the Xenith’s idea of “thin paper” was still rather thick.

It was actually extremely therapeutic to just focus on shapes and color. You’d find yourself trying to represent the objects in your room without making it obvious what they were. Making an abstract piece representational was a feat and required a great deal of thought. You hoped by the time the competition started, you’d be able to stand in front of the crowd and paint something they would enjoy.

Soon, you moved onto painting on a sheet of paper tacked to a wooden board, which was held up by a portable easel. You’d stand in front of the blank, semi-yellowed sheet, and just think. A pink spot there. An orange square there. A deep, deep cobalt wave streaked vertically through the piece. It was missing something. You watered down some yellow then made a generously thick, wiggly-lined circle around the square. Done.

“How comes practice?”

You were startled and snapped your head up. How long had Sientia been watching? You stilled your heart and smiled up at them. “I actually think my work isn’t half bad!”

“Hm,” The giant lowered their head closer to your spot on the counter top. “What is it?”

You stepped back. “Well, what do you think it is?”

This response pleased Sientia. They tilted their head this way and that, before deciding. “I don’t recognize the shape. This yellow, it is a good color. I am no artist, but I also enjoy-” they gestured to the blue. “-this squiggle, here.”

You placed your hands on your hips, feeling all fuzzy from the praise. “It’s a lamp. One I had in my apartment, way back on Earth. It was pretty ugly, but my parents had given it to me as a housewarming gift.”

Sientia lifted their looming head back up. “I didn’t know humans needed heat lamps. Should I ask one be imported?”

You laughed heartily, before taking a rest and explaining that no, you had not referred to a heat lamp.

The time to compete finally came. Sientia picked out a nice outfit for you to wear, settled you into the pouch, then headed out eagerly.

You knew you’d arrived when it became terribly noisy. Most of the Xenith remained in their heads, however other alien species that resided on the planet were chattering away.

You poked your head out of the pouch to watch where you were being taken. You were inside of an arena, which was surprisingly similar to arenas on Earth. The stands were chock-full. It was hard to distinguish what sort of other aliens were among the bleachers. All you could make out was a mix of pale Xenith, and various shades of lavender and baby’s breath blue.

The two of you checked in and were escorted to the first area. This space was within the bleachers. Instead of having the audience surrounding you, you were simply on camera for the first half of the contest. Later you would be taken back into the thick of it.

Sientia placed you carefully onto a pedestal as drones buzzed around everyone. They kept all companions at around Xenith chest level, as they stood on twos. Almost immediately you were surrounded by several of the other Xenith contestants, who were delighted to see a human.

A silvery Xenith focused on Sientia. “(You have a human?)”

“(Aw, might I hold them?)” asked a yellowish Xenith.

The third spoke your language. “Hello!”

Sientia huffed awkwardly and kept close. They seemed abashed.

“(Please don’t touch! This is [Y/N]. It’s their first competition, so do not frighten my dear companion!) [Y/N], are you well?”

You backed up and bumped into the hand of the yellow-tinted Xenith. With a start you leaped and stumbled back over to the side Sientia was closest to. “It’s just… wow. A lot of attention.”

“(Apologies. I attempted to adopt a human, but they continually were out. How did you receive this one?)” questioned the silver alien.

Sientia fidgeted. “(I farm, so I simply gave excess crop away early. This secured a spot to choose a human.)”

The yellow Xenith kept staring at you longingly. “(Ehmmm… I wanted one, too. You think ahead. Very smart.)”

Sientia wanted to get rid of them. “(I believe the judging is starting.)”

So the others ended up scurrying back to their own companions, but not before a couple more desirable glances were thrown down at you.

You sighed, grateful.

“It really is starting,” commented Sientia with surprise, as the judge came into the inner bleachers. “Brace yourself. The pedestal will shift.”

So. A physical and fashion check was first on the agenda. It was the part you had been dreading every day. You took a deep, calming breath.

Because so many sentient species were twelve feet and under, the judge had to be proportionate during this segment. Everyone was moved downwards, so that the small judge could come by. A drone slightly bigger than your head followed behind the no-nonsense alien, which you had no doubt was plastering all this upon the screens outside.

One by one, the contestants were- you shuttered- fondled. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad shutter, but you had butterflies in your stomach.

The judge, a seven foot tall, light blue alien that walked on the tips of its three-pronged feet, was very thorough. They would circle the contestant, watch the way they walked, judge their outfit, and then feel certain parts of the body over. Occasionally a contestant would lean in, as if dizzy, before the judge finished up, wrote something down, and then left to the next pedestal.

“Don’t be nervous,” comforted Sientia quietly, who had laid beside you. “Remember, we can forfeit at any time my pet. I will not let you stay if you change your mind.”

You smiled at them before being spooked by the sudden appearance of the judge. You hadn’t realized that the alien had been getting close.

The judge was very professional throughout most of the examination. Stoically, they watched you walk and jotted something down. Comments were mumbled in an sing-song alien tongue about your choice of outfit.

'Polka-dots, with plaid shorts?’ you imagined them saying.

Then the part that had you most nervous came. The alien felt your arms gently, slid a hand over to your chest and thumbed over the ribs. Were they counting them? They squished down where certain organs were along your body. Finally, the intrusive appendage cupped your cheek and pressed your upper lip out of the way. You instinctively bore your teeth and grimaced.

“Very good teeth. Unique human specimen,” spoke the strange alien in your language.

There was a sweet scent, like sugar, in the air. Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself relaxing. Suddenly you understood why it was some of the other contestants appeared to become dizzy. Whatever this alien was emitting smelled lovely.

The judge swiped a finger over your blunt human canines. “Always fascinated by Homo sapien teeth.”

They removed the hand and glanced over at Sientia, the air sack around their neck tinged pink. “You groom your human well,” they said in Sientia’s language.

“Thank you,” Sientia eyed the judge suspiciously.

You had no idea what they had said. The judge patted your cheek, quickly wrote a final thought down, then left. It almost made you sad to see them go. However, after a few minutes your head cleared. That was a weird experience. You straightened your back and awaited the second segment.

“Do you think I did alright?”

Sientia moved their head near. “Yes, you did wonderfully! I am certain. The judge sounded… much too pleased. Fae are simply like that, though.” They gave you an encouraging nuzzle.

You blushed and rubbed your hands over Sientia’s head. It was funny that you were supposedly the pet, yet you were the one who did most of the petting. You felt them physically purr.

After the first segment ended, contestants were directed one by one back into the main arena. The Xenith held their companions in their hand and were paraded around the edge. It was hard to keep your cool. You had to force yourself not to look down as you tried to keep balance.

This was all so overwhelming. It wasn’t nearly as loud as a stadium back on your home planet, but the quiet chatter did invade your thoughts. Being so high in the air, with all eyes and ears and words directed at you, started to make you terribly dizzy. But as you glanced over into the crowd, you found a familiar face.

“Look! It’s Antha!”

“Ehm,” hummed Sientia in response, who was finally allowed to come to a stop. “You see Antha?”

Antha wiggled their fingers. On top of their head stood Clarence, hardly more than a speck in the distance. But the little speck squirmed, and you just knew he was waving vigorously at the two of you.

Your spirits lifted again. You waved back, grinning. The support was very much needed, and Clarence’s presence reminded you of the true reason you’d decided to compete. You wanted to trust Sientia fully, as Clarence did Antha, and you wanted to make your master happy.

Sientia nodded their head in Antha’s direction. This almost made Sientia feel like they had before the mourning period; warm and fuzzy, like a healthy Xenith. They puffed up just a little more, antennae high and spread wide.

So, it was time for the talent competition to begin. You watched the flickering screens above the stadium as various individuals attempted to impress the intense, boring eyes of the judges.

There were four judges in total. One Xenith. The other three included a brawny, one-eyed biped, a large piebald covered in feathers, and the previous judge who had done the physical. They sat across the field, and hardly blinked as they jotted down notes and numbers on the performances before them.

A dark, four-armed alien with a flat face could throw a heavy metal ball across the entire field with ease. A five-foot, mousy alien could complete an agility course in under twenty seconds. A long and skinny serpent like alien could dance and twirl like a ribbon within the air. The crowd particularly liked the serpent, clicking and chattering at the graceful shapes made as she looped around.

You tried to still your heart. That was some tough competition, but you’d been practicing your art skills each and every day. You were certain you would please at least the Xenith judge. Maybe you’d win them over with your human 'cuteness,’ even if the painting didn’t elicit a major response. After all, some thought humans were endearing. If you fumbled, you’d play it off and try to look nothing short of adorable. Even if the voice in your head kept telling you that they should see you as an ugly species, that you yourself were ugly, you’d been proven wrong on multiple occasions.

Finally, it was your turn to shine.

“Are you ready?” asked Sientia quietly, with concern.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Sientia stepped further into the field, careful let you down, then removed your setup from the pouch on their chest. It was a large sheet of watercolor paper, nailed to a wooden board five feet wide and ten feet tall, which Sientia propped against their free wrist. Your act would consist of painting a certain someone while using their hand to raise and lower yourself along the canvas. A show of trust while also entertaining the crowd. A perfect act.

Two drones flew low, eyes watchful. You tied an apron on and stuffed your brushes into the front pockets. After picking up a closed container, you made meaningful eye contact with Sientia. They lifted you upon their hand, to which you opened and dumped the container down over the top of the paper. Gray tinted water dripped, soaking into the paper a quarter down.

The brushes were whipped out. Over the course of ten minutes you drove the wide tipped brushes into buckets of pre-mixed colors and swept them across the open plains. Deep cyan, made from an imported liquid watercolor, was your main shade.

You made four quick strokes, forming a ball with spikes coming from one end. One long thin strip vertical from that, though not touching. Then horizontally a fat, stocky, uneven line that was bigger at the end than tip. Two near perfect, wet cyan circles close to the bottom, both dripping towards the edges. You admired your work a second, already out of breath.

A few more blue splotches were added before you switched colors. A bright, watery pink mingled with the blues, mixing into purple in several areas. Embarrassingly, a large, unwanted splat splashed onto the paper, to which you blushed and pretended was on purpose. Then, before you knew it, you were adding the final touches in a gold leaf yellow.

Standing from a distance in Sientia’s hand, you turned your head this way and that, before giving a curt nod and deep bow.

“Tah-dah! It’s finished!”

Sientia let you down, and you were exhausted. Finishing a painting that large in just over ten minutes killed you. You popped your joints and looked hopefully over at the judges. Three of them were scribbling excitedly, while the Xenith was staring at the art. You didn’t know if that was good or bad. Eventually the giant titled their head down and gave their unknown input, too.

“You are so amazingly talented,” swooned Sientia, drawing your attention.

You smiled sheepishly, face very red. “Th-thank you. I… made it for you.”

Affectionate and surprised, Sientia wanted to cuddle you, but the two of you had to step back so the next contestant could work.

The rest of the aliens went by in a blur. You were simply too in your own head to pay hardly any attention. Over analyzing the minute body languages of the judge panel was not fun, and had you guessing- then guessing again- as to what your final score would be.

When the last out-of-breath contestant returned to their owner, the talent segment was done. All Xenith and pets were marched around the outer rim for a final lap, before returning to the inner stadium. Pets were placed back onto their pedestals to rest while the judges compiled their thoughts.

You sat and fidgeted quietly.

Sientia’s head teetered against the edge of the pedestal, cross-shaped eyes focused upon your nervous little form. “It is okay if we don’t win, my pet. Please remember. I’ve had so much fun today! It’s been a very, very, very long time since I’ve walked the circle and presented my companion before all. Do not fret so!”

That made you smile, if only a tidbit. “I know… I just can’t help but have nervous energy! If we won, that would make me sooo happy. It would make you so happy.”

The alien’s face emoted more densely than you’d ever seen before. Their eyes dilated, antennae curled, and they put on a wide, open grin. The smile was added for you, but still. Such emotion.

“I was right to choose you, [Y/N]. You are perfect.”

You nearly cried. Who in your life ever called you perfect? Not your first partner, nor your last. Most certainly not your parents or 'good’ aunt. Nobody was perfect in this world or the next, but the sheer fact someone was inspired enough to utter something so romantic made your heart flutter. You opened your mouth to even attempt a reply, but a noise chimed and echoed through the spacious corridor, flinging everyone around into silence.

A winner had been decided.

You stood and swallowed, hard.

Upon the elongated screens high, high on the metallic walls, the various aliens of the panel chatted softly. The same footage was being aired on enormous screens above the stadium, so everyone was watching in anticipation along with the contestants.

The four judge panel went through each contestant’s score briefly, citing anatomy and subjective thoughts on the talent segment. As they spoke in the local Xenith tongue, recordings of the contestants and their owners were played. You could not understand the talk at all, yet your eyes stayed glued to the video.

You saw yourself. Did your painting really look that bad on screen? 'Stay optimistic,’ you chanted to yourself inwardly. 'The Xenith like abstract art.’

You were given a number score of 68 out of 100. A sigh of relief. That wasn’t totally awful. So far, the scores ranged from 22 through 65, meaning you were somehow ahead. But there were still seven more scores to reveal.

Burning eyes stared down the screens, counting scores. 43, 50, and there it was, 71.

You lost.

Your legs were weak. You found yourself on knees, not even bothering to watch the rest of the judgment. Sientia had turned attention to you as soon as the higher score had been announced.

“Are you okay?” asked Sientia gently.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah, I guess. Disappointed. Trying not to cry, but okay.”

They paused in thought. Sientia was truly not put off by the results. If only you could hear their telepathic emotions, they could send a wave of comfort and compassion your way. Instead, they had to settle for the physical and verbal. That was fine, too.

You felt something boop your head and flinched. A quick glance up revealed that one of Sientia’s longer antennae had touched you, from where the giant was tilting their head down. It patted you, unsure, the other poking you carefully in the face. It was like a dog coming up to sniff you. Considering the antennae were the most sensitive part of any Xenith, this was perhaps not far off.

“I know you’re trying to comfort me,” you said. “and it makes me happy, but… I don’t think I’ll be totally over this for a few days.”

“When we get home, I will make you your favorite food, and we can put on one of the imported Earth medias you like so much. Will this sooth?”

You couldn’t help the tug at your lips. “Hmmm… that is… acceptable. Thank you. So, who won?”

Out of 15 contestants, you ranked number 8. That was nearly in the dead center. The winner, with a score of 100 (as all contest winners are scored 100), was the four-armed alien who’d thrown the metal ball across the field. You supposed you couldn’t feel too bad about losing to an act like that. After all, even you had been impressed by that contestant’s superior show of strength.

There may have been resentment in your heart, as if you could have somehow done better, but at least Sientia did not blink twice at the results. To be human was to be rampant with emotion, so you could not help but feel a little upset at losing your first competition. But in the end, it was Sientia’s judgment that mattered. And Sientia was overjoyed just to spend time with you doing something they loved. That was something you would simply have to learn, especially if you decided to partake in more pet shows.

The two of you were given your prize, then met up with Antha and Clarence before leaving.

Antha lifted and pressed their knuckle pads to the ground, with Clarence balancing stupendously on their head. “(The two of you looked very good on the field!)”

If a Xenith could blush, Sientia would have. Instead, their antennae twirled bashfully. “(Thank you, friend. [Y/N] did well. I am so very much proud of them.)”

“And how do you feel, companion [Y/N?]”

You were still being carried in Sientia’s hand. You pursed your lips and shrugged. “Disappointed.”

Antha lowered their head closer, as Clarence wanted to comment.

The other human waved and beamed. “Hey, you did super great for your first competition! I’ve been in a few and man, let me tell you… the first time I tripped in front of the whole stadium. Over my own feet, too. Don’t worry so much, you did just fine!”

You couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, a little embarrassed “Thanks, Clarence.”

On the way home, you fulfilled your dream of riding at the top of Sientia’s flat head. Your master had been reluctant and afraid that you would get anxious, but you were adamant. One arm looped tightly around an antenna, the other fiddled with a tiny red participation ribbon, which was your only prize.

“Pet?”

You hummed.

“I’ve thought to ask. You say you painted for me. But, ehm, what have you painted?”

It took a moment to decipher the question. “Oh! Well,” you blushed. “I was trying to paint you! I know it didn’t come out exactly how I expected… that I could have done b-better to impress the judges-”

“Eh! No more talk of judges! I will hang it upon my wall above my nest. Look, we are home.”

Home was lamp-lit and unfit for a human to wander the rooms wide as a veldt, but it was home. The house that you grew up in had never felt like home, nor did the apartment you huddled in on Earth. But this strange, empty cube in the suburbs of the Xenith home world? It had begun to feel like home more so than any sad, brick building every did. You left Earth months ago, and never once began to regret that decision.

Sientia, you master and friend, spoke to you candidly and with compassion. They clothed you lovingly in lavish things, smoothed your anxieties like an iron, and wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with you. They loved you so much that they wanted to lift you high in their palm, to put you in the eye of buzzing drones and chattering aliens.

Even during a time that Sientia was still recovering from loss, they wanted to badly to move forward. You think that they did. You could hear it in their voice now, whenever they spoke sweetly to you, that they knew Inridd'h was smiling. Before the competition, when you were still practicing your abstract thinking, there was a glint in Sientia’s six eyes. It filled them with comfort to watch you work so hard, and with such great passion.

You loved the miniature house Sientia built for you, and the surrounding areas Sientia themselves lived in. But more than anything, you loved Sientia. Sientia was what made the house a home. You prayed you could stay as long as possible, because at this point, you had no intention of leaving.

So, when they two of you returned home, you ate a big dinner, popped in a human movie, and curled up on their nest together. You fell asleep atop their head with a full belly and a healing heart.

EPILOGUE

Sientia held you close to their body. You could feel warm air rising from the nostrils of their chest, as you wobbled and balanced close to their shimmering blue skin.

“Now, you must stay close. Some species may swoop low and pick you up if you move too far. It is perhaps safer to remain in my hand, at first.”

You nodded, apprehensive but excited.

It had been half a year since you decided to become the pet of the great alien species, the Xenith. But you’d yet to experience the awe of being in close quarters with your master’s life work; their livestock. They’d kept you distant from their crop, as giant bugs were most certainly to be predators to little humans. You could be a tasty, blood-filled morsel. The scenario was as tense as introducing the pet chicken to a new barn cat.

You shielded your eyes as they opened the door to a blistering glass greenhouse. After a moment of wiping away involuntary tears, you were able to see again.

“Woooah,” you gasped.

To Sientia this was a large terrarium, but to you it was an expansive jungle. Tall yellow grass sprouted all around, circling the dirt and clays below. Alien ferns spread their fleshy leaves and fronds, sprinkling the air with heavenly scents. A myriad of neon blossoms bloomed among the plants and grasses, dotting it all with pinks, yellows, and whites. You’d never seen anything like this before. Not even at the zoo.

“Is this what all your grasslands look like, out in the wild?”

Sientia physically rumbled. You’d come to distinguish their vibrations and grunts from one another by now, and could see that they found your question funny.

“Some. I try to keep my crop happy.”

“Sooo.. where are all the gross bugs?” you asked, peeking over the side of their palm.

Sientia sat. “Here is one, in the grass.”

With their free hand they plucked the animal right out of hiding. It squeaked and stirred, squirming in surprise. It was much bigger than you, but still smaller than Sientia’s hand. You were used to seeing your master chomp down on these creatures, but they looked so much bigger when wriggling.

Sientia gently set the insect down into their other palm, so the two of you could meet up close. However, they kept a firm finger to the bug’s back, to keep it in place.

It’s stubby, fat antennae twitched and flickered, prickly legs struggling to pull itself out from the weight on its back. Eventually it was still.

“Go on. It’s safe. This is Henhil, you may tell from the markings against the back and legs. This one’s first clutch hatched a few days ago, so we shall not keep her long. You hear this, Henhil?”

Henhil’s mouth parts chewed idly.

“Wow,” you whispered, fascinated.

They really did just… look like giant over sized Earth arthropods. This type seemed like a cross between a fat beetle and a mantas. Her body was covered in a shiny black, and her wings, legs, and face were lined with silver. Two stripes of green cut through the silver on each of her eight legs. Bugs still freaked you out, but this was truly an amazing opportunity. What Earthling got to boast getting up close and personal with Permian era insects?

“She’s very pretty.”

Henhil started to wriggle again, her energy returning. You stumbled away, mindful of the mouth, as Sientia went ahead and plopped her back into place.

“On, then. Back to your children. Is this what you were expecting [Y/N?]”

You sat down, the heat exhausting you and making you sweat like a pig. “Well, it’s definitely something you’d like to do. I mean, raising bugs.”

“Then you think you would truly like to utilize such animals in a future competition?”

In the excitement you’d nearly forgotten the real reason Sientia was introducing the bugs to you at all. You’d been in two competitions now, and had won neither. Somehow, the concept of horseback riding continued to come up. Sientia was fascinated by the horse. There were no horses imported off planet, which was a shame. The next best thing where Sientia’s crop of livestock.

The insects were horse sized, give or take. Some had a body shape well off enough to accommodate a way of riding comfortably. Of course, they were being bred and raised to eat. Not ridden. But that didn’t mean that some of the younger one’s couldn’t be coaxed into allowing a human rider onto their backs. Henhil’s new clutch was likely a good place to start.

So, did you think you’d be able to get over your squeamishness and ride a big ol’ bug for the sake of winning? Absolutely. Winning wasn’t everything, but it would sure feel great to win. Or, if not win, to at least get second place. You know it would delight Sientia.

“I think I’d like to try. Maybe tomorrow, when you show me her mate, we can take a peek at the babies too?” you shuttered. “Are they like… grubs?”

The translator did not translate 'grub’ very well, but Sientia got the gist.

“Somewhat. Let’s go inside, you appear over exerted.”

Sientia brought you to their face and nestled you gently as you gave a smooch on their 'nose.’ Then, they stood and absconded from the sweltering greenhouse.

[bonniemansfieldd]

My Pet Goblin Grief

I wouldn’t say I’m overly experienced in many things; baking - perhaps; exams maybe; tactical chundering - I’m pretty good; but grief? Me and her go way back. 

Of course, everything is relative and I’m grateful to say that I’ve never lost someone as close as a parent or sibling but I definitely have had a bigger taste of the Grieving Life™ than most which is an odd feeling. A running joke we have is that I have one of those stamp loyalty cards to the local cemetery and now I’m only 1 off of my own free burial- wahoo!

Death-focussed conversations are a centerpiece in our house and the question “What do you want as your funeral song?” is as easily asked as “What is it you want for Christmas?” (For the record, mine’s Only One Who Knows by the Arctic Monkeys, Day N Nite the Crookers Remix by Kid Cudi and probably the Moulin Rouge version of Your Song - but the last one is still up for debate). I never realise these sorts of things are a bit odd or macabre until I ask the same questions to Ungrieved friends who always respond with the same notion of “why are you asking such morbid things” or “are you planning on killing me?” or “This isn't a fun birthday drinks convo.” 

For context, my first experience with death was when my grandad died when I was 3, I have little memory of this other than my mum breaking the news to me when she was stark-naked, post-shower and drying her hair; a weird image in hindsight. My second and third were very close together and now feel fused in my brain; my mum was the eldest of three and within the space of 50 days her sister died due to alcoholism and her brother committed suicide due to depression and a psycho ex wife. Also my dog died a month or 2 later, rule of 3 and all that. At the age of 12 I was properly introduced to the beasts that are grief, depression and the aftermath of a suicide, none of them I would give good Yelp reviews tbh. 

Nobody teaches you how to grieve. There is no handbook on ‘How to Navigate the Loss of a Loved One’, never mind one on ‘How to Deal With Traumatic Deaths Whilst Dealing with a Now Suicidal Mum Alongside All the Other Shit of Your Teenage Years’ (although there should be given its catchy title ) Now here’s where I made my first mistake when learning to live with these things - I just Kept Calm and Carried On like a fucking Dweeb. No major lash outs; no therapy, no rebellious phase (yet), no prolonged mourning period, no deep conversations with my parents on how i was feeling. I’d wake up, go to school and be a good little boffin, come home, ignore the fact mum had not gotten out of bed in 3 days or spoken in 30; do my homework, have my tea, go to bed, be awoken by the sounds of my mum blasting their funeral songs and scream bawling downstairs; put in my earphones and watch Flushed Away; cry a bit; eventually fall asleep; repeat. 

Looking back now my chosen ignorance was ridiculous and really came back with a vengeance when I was 15 and my mum was back to relative normality. I started to face what I’d pushed down and I released all the pent up icky-gross-wtf-feeling via trying to fuck anyone I could, developing an eating disorder, fancying only the most wastemen of boys, binge drinking and thinking Morrissey was the pinnacle of God’s creation. I mean, it did the job in the end but FUCK ME it was the dumbest way to do it and ultimately caused a whole load of other problems in my wee noggin that I really didn’t need. 

Thankfully (she says with sarcasm and one solo gunfinger), I got to perfect my craft at Grieving in 2020, aged 18, when another Auntie died unexpectedly of bowel cancer and then my childhood friend killed herself, aged 21, due to cripping BPD. I really mean it when I say I’m sick of people dying.  This time round I’m really trying to do it the proper way and not suppress it for 3 years and get myself in a knot like last time, although what is the proper way to grieve?  Since this is not my first rodeo I know what NOT to do but that’s all I got so far. 

Now, I have a few key points I’m really trying to abide by,  the first one being for the love of GOd put your own grief first. I now have deep rooted mummy issues which partly stem from trying to pick up the pieces of her grief whilst burying my own with Aardman Animations and wanky Morrissey lyrics. She didn’t support me, in all honesty not many in my family did (which is understandable!) cause everyone was trying to keep their own heads above water which ultimately I should’ve done too, but didn’t. Learning to say “I am in pain, I am grieving, I need to put myself first right now or else my future therapy sessions are going to be hella expensive” is really fucking hard, ESPECIALLY when everyone else is crumbing too. But it’s the whole air mask on a plane scenario where you cannot help anyone else until you’re breathing clear too.  

My next point; some days you actually feel okay and you’re not the worst person ever for feeling like that. It’s the whole ball in a box grief analogy that I cba to explain but highly reccommend looking up. Grief doesn’t leave you, you just learn to live with it and it’s kinda as simple as that. Therefore, there will be days where you do manage it, maybe even forget it for a while. It becomes a feeling so ingrained into you, you don’t even notice it’s there and just get on with things. You’re not a terrible person for having a nice time with your mates if your Gran’s just died. You’re not the spawn of satan if you go out on the pull a few weeks after your mate’s topped themselves. Yeah, their lives have stopped but why the fuck should yours? 

It’s a difficult moment, immediately after you lose somebody and venture out into the world to see that it hasn’t stopped turning. One example I have of this is when I met my cousin for a coffee the morning after my friend had taken her own life. I woke up feeling fairly normal, got ready and hopped on the bus to town and looked out the window to see the city moving as usual. I got off the bus two stops later when I realised my sudden snotty crying was getting a bit loud. I don’t remember starting to cry but I do remember walking up the High street amidst the Christmas shoppers blatantly sobbing and intermittently vaping (please laugh at this image cause I do- I also had a glazed donut in hand if that helps.) These experiences are also not limited to the immediate aftermath of a death, I’ve had similar experiences years after they’ve passed at gigs, on nights out, at the cinema, at bus stops and even watching The Simpsons (screw Matt Greoning for having Close To You as Marge and Homer’s fucking wedding song). My point is, big jabs of grief happen as randomly as moments of peace, acceptance and even contentment - it’s all just a big clusterfuck cocktail that adds a bit of spice to your life. 

One thing I am trying to practise more when taming my grief goblin is actually talking about it which I failed to do before. As previously mentioned, people around you can get a bit awkward or uncomfortable when talking about all things death, ESPECIALLY when they haven’t experienced it themselves and you’re actually reaching out to them for support. I’ve had some advice that was great and some that was fucking awful, I even have grief pet peeves now which is not something you see much of on Room 101 (although I am willing to put my argument forward to Frank Skinner if he’s interested in that sort of thing). 

So, what shouldn’t you say to someone who’s being RKO’d by their very own grief goblin? Never- and I cannot stress this enough- say how “StRoNg” or “bRaVe” you think they are. Never. Cut that shit out, it’s fucking GROSS. THis is an especially common thing from those Ungrieved and it honestly feels like an Alexis Rose Pity boop on the nose or pat on the head. To me, those words mean “awwwwww, sucks to be you pet.” which may sound harsh but hear me out. The wonderful Maya Richardson describes the frustration with this in regards to racism/transphobia/homophobia but I also think it applies to grief perfectly: 

“You’re so brave comments often feel like a microaggression as it’s a form of ‘othering’.This is to view or treat someone as intrinsically different and alien from oneself. The comments Basically say “your life is harder than mine” and feels like a back handed compliment Or an insensitive power move even if they meant well.”

The “you’re so __” comment gives you no support and is alienating, it makes you feel like you’re a freak who’s fighting a one person battle that you can only fight on your own cause no one else is as “strong” or as “brave” as you. Also, I’m not fucking strong or brave. I don’t want to be strong, I didn’t ask to be brave, and if not being these things means I don’t have to meet my grief goblin every morning then I’d rather be a weak coward any day. 

The best response I’ve ever had when telling a friend I’m grieving or I’ve just lost someone is “Fuck me! Another one? That’s wank. Do you want to talk about it?” Not only did this not isolate me and it gave me the opportunity to talk through things to process them better, but it also validated everything I’m feeling. Yes it is wank thank you for acknowledging how utterly wank this situation is - it’s the biggest pile of wank I’ve ever waded through and no, I’m not “brave” for doing that.

Let them talk about it, listen to them, hug them, recognise the wank they're wading in and give them a hand to pull them through. Also, if they don’t want to talk about it then,for the love of God, just treat them as you would normally. When you’re walking on eggshells around someone they can also see the shells you’ve scattered about the place and it makes it all so lonely - cut that shit out. I’m someone who handles pain via humour cause if i don’t laugh i’ll cry and if i cry i wont stop so, if I make a joke about cemetery visits being more like European tours due to how many graves we visit and how fucking long it takes, PLEASE just laugh; I’m trying my best here. 

Ultimately, I see grief as a pet for life that you learn to train and care for, but it still does piss on your floor or bite your heart every now and then; and if you know a friend who has one of these funny little creatures you should treat it as such- a new pet of theirs thats learning to be obedient. They may leave it at home sometimes or introduce you to it if they feel comfortable but, in the end, it is here to stay. And that’s okay. 

Treat them and their grief goblin with the respect and love it deserves and then, I assure you, we’ll all pull through together - eventually.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Bad Guy

Bucky x fem!Reader

Theme: It's a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn't the same place after all.

Series: I don’t know if this is a series.

Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s​ once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me...I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: I cannot believe there are days when I wish I can poop at will, like my brother, and not just sit there constipated. Today has been one of those days.

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

“Get the fuck outta my face, you asshole!”

The anger rushed through the burning veins to press on the car horn for as long as that bald guy could; or till other vehicles standing there impatiently started cussing at the boomer to hold it together. To add fuel to the fire, a flock of pigeons made sure it got to do its business right in the middle of newly washed windshields. A woman stood by the crossing, watching everything unfold through her bloodshot eyes as she smoked the scene away in broad daylight while a stray dog peed at the lamp post she supported herself on. A man walked by, catcalling the same woman with the kind of smile you do not want to witness; but when you do, it is difficult to remove from your brain. “Slut,” the man spewed when he did not get anything for his manly advances. “Boo-hoo,” uttered the woman with pure disinterest, going back to looking at the woman standing across the road, trying to balance her grocery bags in her arms while deciding the right moment to cross the road.

Ah, yes. It was just another day in New York City.

It did not feel normal till the exhaust fumes filled up your lungs when you stepped out into this articulate maze of a city to go about your day, just like anyone else. That rusty smell of iron and concrete along with a splash of dust in the alleys, the stench of piss in those missed corners in the back alleys and parks, the howls and so-called greetings by the men at every woman passing by that caught their eye.

Some things never change. That’s what Bucky lamented this morning, feeling himself caught off guard for a split second as two women walked by with a knowing smile just for his blue eyes. Never indeed.

So, he still had it, didn’t he? Feeling like the same Brooklyn boy before the war, catching secretive gazes and moans of all eyes alike, greeting the elderly, petting a dog and stroking a cat as he felt a skip in his step. It was so good to be outside.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he had come back from Wakanda, deciding to join Steve, Sam and Stark in whatever little shenanigans they had running at the compound in the city outskirts; saving the world and all that. It had been a good start since the whole Hydra and Snap events. He had settled pretty well with the rest of the Avengers. Turned out it isn’t that hard to live with people who are just the same amount of weird as him. But the relief came from the fact that he wasn’t the only ex-assassin in the house. That redhead was super rad. I should maybe ask her out if she and Steve aren’t a thing already…though I doubt that.

But just because he had come home did not mean he forgot about the previous one. He would still get occasional memes in his inbox from Shuri and he would try to use them- what he thought- the right way, peppering them into conversations as much as possible. 

I wish Shuri was here, Bucky sighed as he looked at the Times Square announcement for the Young Leaders Summit happening this weekend, smiling to himself in gratitude for that young scientist making him well enough to enjoy the bustling crowds again.

The walk through this massive city was no joke. But the Winter Soldier took his sweet time to watch the life of the loudest and the quietest corners before he decided where he wanted to get his coffee from.

Just by the corner of the University was a little shop with the cosiest ambience- everything furnished in wood, old advertisements for wall decorations and some good old jazz music playing on the vinyl satiated his soul just the right amount.

“Coffee and uh…eggs and bacon, please,” he requested with a slight smile as he settled on the stool, trying to ignore the snickers and giggles coming from the booth behind him.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” his sensitive ears caught, forcing him to clear his throat and grab the newspaper kept on the counter.

“So fuckable,” another whisper came. Okay, some things have changed, he shuddered, gladly turning his attention to the police sirens in the distance instead of having to hear what a couple of strangers had to say about him.

“I wonder if he goes dow-“

A crash and a peal of horrendous feminine laughter drowned out everything else, breaking open the can of fight or flight instincts- neither of them containing the ‘go back home, its none of your business’ choice.

Stepping out, Bucky was greeted with one end of the street bustling with cars and people getting out of them to witness a woman stand over one with a bag swinging in the air as if to mock whoever who was standing opposite her. Bucky could not get a clear view thanks to the tree line in his view.

“I said put that down,” a commanding voice said out loud. Wait a second…

“Good Lord! Would you relax!” the woman called out, her back still to Bucky. By the casual pose, he could tell she was not scared of whoever was standing in front of her. “It’s just a smoke grenade in one hand the most expensive painting in New York in another. Also, the shittiest,” she shrugged before taking the piece out of the bag and forcing a gasp out of everyone, “I mean, who decided to pay a hundred mil for this stupid looking square drawn over a circle?”

Bucky moved along the tree line, right where her blind spot was, reading the scene to realise she was some idiot out to cause chaos in the streets. I guess the police have it cover-are you kidding me?!

“As much as I would love to agree with you,” a very tired Steve announced, his shield resting on his arm, “I’d rather make sure Tony gets this back in one piece.”

“Well, he can pay my student loans and I’ll draw him a better one,” you negotiated, almost making Steve laugh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s a good one. Now come on. I don’t want you to get hurt. Give that ba-“

“Why not?” You tilted your head at him, making the Captain pause. Bucky stood behind an SUV, furrowing his brows at Steve and the woman.

“Wh-“ Steve was left with his lips in a confused pout, not really understanding the question while the summer sun made that soft blonde glow like a truly lost boy in the jungle.

“Why wouldn’t you want to hurt me?”

Bucky could swear by that colour of hurting emotion in her voice that she was looking at Steve as if he had betrayed her. Holy cow, she’s good. But then again, it’s Stevie.

“I..uh-“

“It’s okay. You have my consent. We should keep a safe word though.”

“O…kay I think that’s-“

“How about…Shield?”

Bucky nearly gave up his position with the involuntary snicker that left the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he had a perfect view of watching his best friend choke on embarrassment till he was red.

“’ Cause, you know, it’s safer to use protection.”

Steve was lucky. Really lucky the first time for having the street evacuated so as not to face the public embarrassment of being broken by a woman in a leather jacket and black jeans. That’s it. No weapons. He turned lucky the second time when an explosion in the art gallery behind him turned all the attention away from this weird one standing on top of a car and flirting with Captain America.

But Bucky was not going to let Steve forget this. Ever.

“Nat, what was that?” He called into his comms.

“Aw! Come on! I was just starting to get to know you!” She groaned. “Okay, I won’t burn this trash and we go on a date. What say?”

“We’re done here,” Steve declared before turning towards the three policemen standing behind him for aid, looking at him for further instructions, “cuff her up.”

Bucky moved next to the police car, taking the spare windbreaker resting on the front seat to walk towards the woman without giving away his identity. Not that there was much to give there.

“SO IS THAT A YES ON THE DATE?” she shouted in Steve’s direction while the cops cuffed her up. One of the policemen was quick to figure out the man doing the murder walk in their direction was not a part of the team.

“Hey, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?“

Bucky tried to raise his hands to signal him to keep it quiet but something else was already catching his attention. That something being Steve body hurled out of the glass building like a rag doll.

It was a split-second reaction of him catching the arms of the cuffed-up woman. “Hey! You’re not going-“he broke as the face turned towards him, that weight in his voice slowly dissolving in those angry eyes- “anywhere.”

.

You had your share of bad luck. Who didn’t? It was New York fucking City. The whole place was a mess. So, it was a given that today was going to be just like any other day. Because who gets to rob an art studio and have their crush come and personally arrest them only to be called off by some other douchebag robbing the same place.

Now, it would have been great had things just halted there. But as fate would have it, embarrassment hit right when you got cuffed, watching the man of your fantasies being thrown out of glass and landing on the pavement with a groan.

No one hurts him but me, you growled, already trying to make your way towards Steve before a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your arms to stop and turn your around. “Hey! You’re not going-“

Oh, now what! You turned around to lock eyes with deep ocean eyes turning fifty shades lighter. “-anywhere.”

You did not know where that jawline came from but if he hadn’t been so beautiful you swore you would have punched the lights out of him right there and then.

Who is he, a part of you was purring.

Gunfire sounded behind you, making you break out this ten-second bliss to turn back to Steve hiding behind his shield from…was that a sniper you just saw on the roof?

Trying to walk towards Steve again, you were once again stopped by that blue-eyed guy.

“Let me go,” you declared, “he’s in trouble.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s Captain America, doll. I think he can handle himself.”

You scrunched your nose at him, making him wonder it was Steve he was talking about. “Doll? What century are you from?”

Bucky stopped short of saying something. Let’s just not go there, darlin’.

“Let me go, he clearly needs help.”

“From a thief?”

“She tried to threaten a crowd yesterday,” one of the officers spoke, earning a death glare from you.

“And I am threatening to kill you right now if you don’t let me go,” you announced ever so softly to the officer, who walked backwards with every step you took in his direction, his hand resting on his gun, ready to take it out as soon as you were to become a legit threat.

“Lady, I am telling you to calm down,” he declared, his friends backing him up.

“Okay, no need to get-“

Bucky’s words were drowned by another explosion and before anyone could make sense of the situation, you were already breaking out of the handcuffs with one good yank, running straight towards the explosion, jumping over the cars to land on the concrete grounds of the studio.

“Uh…this is on the new guy,” the officer stressed, pointing at Bucky. Bucky looked at him with judgmental eyes before running behind you, trying to catch up as you disappeared behind the smoke, landing on the ground from the cars just in time to miss a screaming man that came flying in his direction; or rather, he missed a man that was thrown in his direction.

“What in the-“ Bucky walked into the smoke cautiously to hear the impact of fists made with ribs and bodies being thrown into walls and grunts coming from something wild trying to fight those men in tactical vests.

The chopper above cleared the smoke in time- thanks Natasha- for the Winter Soldier to witness you blocking an attack on Steve before crushing the attacker’s wrist and knocking him unconscious with your elbow right in his face.

“You okay, Cap?”

“They’re not with you?”

“Wha-Who? These Chads and Hunters? Not even if I was being paid for it, no.”

Steve apologised for the quick judgment, looking around at the men lying on the ground groaning in pain. “You know you’ll still be arrested for the theft,” Steve stated with heavy breaths, trying to wipe off the blood from his lips.

“Eh,” you shrugged, looking in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll live.”

For a second Bucky lost all sense of direction as you walked towards him, your eyes stuck on his. And was that blood on your cheek? Were you really hurt? How does someone look just as…pretty when half their face has been smashed? Everything ran in his mind like a freight train- which came to a deafening halt right what you stopped in front of him, drawing your hands up, palms out.

“Okay, now you can cuff me.”

Steve was a bit confused by the interaction while he stood outside this bizarre bubble between his best friend and this crazy woman who apparently had the hots for him. What was more surprising was watching Bucky lose all that made him ‘Bucky’ and stand there like a mute fool while you waited for him to do something with your hands.

“Oi!” you tried to snap the man out of whatever daydream you thought he was running through, “we going or what?”

Bucky never turned his gaze away from your y/e/c eyes as he tried to find the zip ties that he had on him, taking them out and securing your wrists in them, not bothering with the judgy brow Steve was throwing at him right this moment. He could deal with that later.

“Oooh,” you cooed at Bucky as he turned you by your arm towards the police cars waiting for you, “looks like someone is always ready for some action. I like that.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to say something cocky back when he felt you push him back to grab the knife and the hand holding it, twist and break it before kicking the tactical vest guy in his knees. “Stay down, punk,” you commanded. And at that very moment, one more person in the universe started believing in something called ‘the one’.

.

“Why did you steal the painting?”

“Sweety, can we do this at the station. I’m tired and I could really use a quiet ride.”

Bucky licked his lips as he walked you back, not really content with the answer. You knew it too. It was hard to miss when Bucky’s hands on your arm changed the intensity of the hold. Not to mention the walk back was getting awkward the more distance was covered towards those pea-brained cops.

“…that painting could sell for millions online, ruin the name of this shady studio and win me a date with Cap.”

Stopping right next to the car, you turned and smirked at him, making Bucky wonder about this strange feeling in his stomach. “That’s all you get, pretty boy.” With those last words, you got inside the car, the cops driving you away as Bucky stood there alone for a few moments, replaying all of them back and questioning what exactly he had done today to have led him to this.

Just as the car disappeared from the view, Steve came to stand next to him, looking in the same direction.

“So, zip ties, huh.”

“So, a pretty stalker, huh.”

“She’s the bad guy, Buck.”

Bucky was still looking far out with this little last hope of you coming back. “…really?”

.

“First she impersonates an ambassador’s daughter to get access to the military secrets of three countries, then she crashes two military drones, and when that wasn’t enough thrill for her she comes after me!”

Pepper closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “It was a painting, Tony.”

“Well, today it was!” He stated matter-of-factly. “Tomorrow she’s going to try and steal one of my cars. Or maybe even Steve.”

Steve- who had an icepack pressed to his swollen cheek- rolled his eyes.

“Oh, definitely Steve,” Natasha agreed before passing a smirk at an irritated Rogers.

“It’s not funny,” Steve muttered.

“She said something about the Studio being shady.”

All eyes turned on Bucky. The unwelcome chill down his spine told him he was being questioned quietly till he could come up with something more.

“Tony, you said this painting was shipped yesterday.”

Tony nodded. “It was supposed to be delivered here today.” He turned and looked at the canvas covered in brown paper standing in the corner, waiting to be attended to.

“Could she have been after the studio?”

“Wow, he’s really not stopping today, is he?” Tony uttered to Steve.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Why would she go after the studio?” Pepper questioned. “What are they, some drug dealers or traffickers?”

Everyone stared at each other in silence for a second before Tony called Friday to run diagnostics on the painting and give him everything.

Within five seconds, the results were up.

“There’re traces of unsanctioned medical drugs along the outer frame. I have also found a microdrive that contains in total seventy-five identities. On running a deeper search through the internet, I have found these seventy-five identities belong to the girls that have been missing for the past one year from the middle eastern countries. All these girls have a codename next to them. Would you like me to run a further search on this, sir?”

Silence.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Tony watched in contemplative silence as Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the call.

“How do we know she’s not with the bad guys who have these girls?”

“We can always send Steve in to question her,” Pepper suggested.

“You too Pepper?” Steve felt betrayed by the one person in the room he thought was not going to get in on this. “And I don’t think I’ll be of much help. She never talks sense around me.”

Natasha chuckled, pouring herself some whiskey from Tony’s bar. “That’s true.”

“And Nat’s not going to talk to her because the last time they were in the same room she tried to kill her dog.”

“You had a dog?” Tony gasped. “When?”

“I just pushed him away a little hard from the fighting…with my leg. And it was Y/N’s dog,” Natasha stressed.

Y/N. Bucky ran that name inside his head again and again till it settled like a layer of his own skin on him.

“That’s called a kick,” Steve chimed in blankly.

“That’s definitely a kick,” Tony added, narrowing his eyes at the Black Widow, earning an eye roll.

“I can talk to her,” Bucky volunteered, “she doesn’t know I’m with you guys. She thinks I’m a civilian. I could get in her good books and find out what she knows.”

A brief moment was taken to put some thought into it. “I like that idea,” Natasha finally spoke. “If she’s the bad guy then we can put a stop to whatever she’s up to.”

“If she’s not…” Bucky began.

“Then Cap can finally go out with her without having to think of the greater good,” she concluded with a smug grin.

So, it was settled. Bucky was going undercover to find out the truth. Quite possibly the easiest mission of his life. But if it was this easy, then why was his heart bubbling with this strange sensation? Maybe because it was his first mission after so long. Maybe it was something he was yet to discover.

___

So...what do you think?

[disasterganes]

do you mind going further on the "bryke is trash" point? i may have liked a:tla and thought a:tlok had issues, but i feel like i'm missing info or haven't thought about certain things critically enough.

i will definitely do my best -- full disclosure it’s been years since i’ve come into Close Contact™ w/ k*rra, so feel free to take with a grain of salt. it’s just my opinion, and it’s a heightened opinion because i was B I G into the fandom & show when it was dropping. i had a friend group formed through atla / k*rra before it launched, it was a real cornerstone of my online life so of course i took its bad writing way more personally than a more casual fan. i also can’t watch a show as a show? i’ve done too much work (undergrad & graduate) in writing & narrative studies, so i can Only See Story -- when it falls apart, i can’t get past it. 

behind the scenes, atla likely triumphed because it was a team effort, and a bit of a first effort. not that these people hadn’t written before -- but part of what k*rra suffers from is the “how do we level up” problem that is typically answered (esp by white male writers) with make it darker. atla shone because it didn’t need to darken its tone in order to convey a more serious story -- it had room to breathe and a gentler humor that never really felt malicious in the way lok would feel malicious at times. atla was content to be what it was -- lok was always trying to be grittier than it had to be, given how well atla conveyed its difficult themes with a lighter hand. 

anyway! two parts: shitty writing, & racism. 

abandoning its premise 

my biggest pet peeve is when a show sets up something -- and doesn’t deliver. it’s why i noped out literally s1. (and, of course, kept up quietly from the sidelines bc once i start something i’m physically incapable of letting it go. but emotionally i was gone.) in its first two episodes, lok had incredible worldbuilding. it was beautiful! well drawn! interesting! organic to the world atla built! there were problems introduced that were new and different from atla. atla read a lot like a sprawling, classic hero’s quest. falter, then triumph. lok was more intricate. in its first two episodes, it posed a question: how do you navigate heroism in a world where heroism has been redefined? how do you balance staying true to yourself and allowing yourself to grow, under the scrutiny of the “celebrity” of avatardom? and how do you perform as an avatar, the person meant to keep the balance of the spirit world, when the mortal world is out of balance? this could have been four series’ worth of content. there was enough rich, complex worldbuilding in the first episode to sustain four seasons of a show. 

and then they just -- forgot about it. it was set dressing, and every half a season they artificially upped the stakes. nothing was organic to the world or the story. it was all some -- contrived plot. the conflict between benders and nonbenders could have been really interesting and then it was just -- black and white. here and gone. k*rra’s too brash and bratty to understand! and nonbenders don’t matter anyway! let’s forget about this plot and skip to some !! uh !! political upheaval! and then like! assassins and genocide or smth!! haha yeah big fights! 

it was so shallow, and that’s not how the show started. in the first seven episodes, i thought i’d called the overarching. i thought the show would spend however much time it had (initially, bryke said they were only doing two seasons to “focus on a tight story” and, like a fool, i believed that this wasn’t just a cash grab :/) setting up this story: k*rra will unlock her full potential when she realizes that it’s not just the spirit world that needs an avatar, but the mortal world as well. 

that’s it! that’s all you need! it’s a similar premise to atla but it expands atla. i distinctly remember the quote from one of those s1 episodes, where a nonbender says, “but you’re our avatar too.” that’s it. that’s the show. you have a show!! you have equalists, you have a bender-centric world, you have progress at the expense of those that can’t fit this new world’s design -- and then the equalists are all fake and we’re going to just brute force a solution and move onto the next crisis. 

... what ?? what put the nail in the coffin for me was when the gang or crew whatever the fuck they were (spoiler alert: they were nothing, none of them liked or cared about each other) were being aided by a homeless community or w/e and b*lin jokes about a “wise and noble hobo.” this orphan. who grew up homeless. and has built himself up from nothing with his only family left. is not utilized by the writers to comment on the epidemic of poverty, homelessness, and very thinly veiled racism / ableism (another spoiler alert: don’t expect white dudes to write a coherent metaphor for a real world issue). this was the opportunity for actual depth and even darkness -- below the glittering world of republic city is a serious problem that “”””defeating the fire lord”””” won’t solve. this is a mature and complex story, and it was never ever explored. in fact, in s2 that rich dude asks b*lin if he’s “ever seen the arena at night.” and b*lin says no. the, uh, the arena he lived in bc he was homeless and crushed under the wheel of this new society. 

what ,, the fuck ,, bryke. 

it’s the problem where a writer is constantly trying to outdo themselves -- and they sacrifice the story they could have had. the actually mature one. it’s a problem of thinking fight scenes and a villain Bigger and Badder than the last constitutes grittiness or maturity or w/e. (spoiler alert again: it doesn’t.) 

torturing k*rra 

atla was a story about raising a*ng up. lok was a story abt breaking k*rra down. 

shitty writing is one thing. racist writing is another. from the fucking moment she’s on screen, k*rra is told that she’s too much -- she’s too confident, she’s too loud, she’s too stubborn. and maybe she’s confident, loud, and stubborn, but the narrative does nothing but punish her for this. 

a*ng is a flawed character. a*ng runs away from his responsibility and, subsequently, the fire nation takes over the entirety of the known world. do i blame a*ng for this? absolutely not. and neither does the narrative -- not in a way that counts. people in the story do, but does the narrative beat him bloody? no. the narrative gives him friends. the narrative gives him room to make mistakes and then apologize for them. the narrative lets him learn without making his failures into something that he is literally tortured over. he struggles, but in his worst and most dire situations -- his friends are there. when he dies, it’s not shown in all of its gory details, and in a beautiful, quiet scene, k*tara heals him with spirit water. they stay by his side, and a*ng is given love, care, and support. 

k*rra is constantly, viscerally tortured on screen. k*rra is blamed, threatened, abandoned, poisoned, and temporarily disabled. k*rra is treated like a punching bag in direct response to her supposed “flaws.” we know this to be true because she “learns” from these moments of being violated, abused, and tortured -- the narrative tells us that she had to go through hell, on her own, in order to “learn humility.” 

why did k*rra, a brown girl, need to learn humility? when did she ever come across as someone who couldn’t learn, given the kind of time and space that a*ng had? why were her lessons literally beaten into her, while a*ng’s were simply a process of trial and error, with his friends at his side every single step of the way? 

people will always argue that it’s not so bad, that it’s not necessary to be as gentle with k*rra. but tell that to young brown girls watching this incredible, smart, kind, strong brown heroine get physically and mentally assaulted and broken down in order to properly “serve and save the world.” that shit? that shit’s traumatizing. k*rra is treated like garbage by m*ka, by as*mi, and by the entire world -- she is killed and tortured and isolated, and she is still expected to be grateful for what little she’s given by the end of the series. 

i hate that k*rrasami is praised so highly. because it uses the lesbian card (which i carry as a member) to reinforce some really disgusting colorism and, quite frankly, shitty ass writing. bryke can’t write without a team. end of story. 

that shit!! does NOT fly with me !!! 

[ac-ars]

pauakkarslina i know you are big BIG gastina fan pls write mai prompt how nina dies, but dont worry she didn't and hades keeps her underground and gaston to get to her has to pass a horse with three heads and he makes it fall asleep by singing princessa pls pls

gaston throws small glance still hiding behind the corner of the cave. he hears loud breathing and small weird horse noises, but also sad cries of his ex girlfriend. he has no fucking idea why he came here, but matteo told him that luna told him that nina died while trying to skate, but emilia ended up tying her skate-laces and nina fell down and died. it was apparently such a tragic thing, because even now, waiting for hades to come here and decide which tortures nina will get in hell, she keeps whining sadly over her ripped leggings. not that gaston cares much about them, but nina sounds very sadly and he needs to save her. 

he owes her that, especially after breaking up with her, because of his oxford studies. the fact that she fucking kept calling him every three minutes was annoying as hell and he needed his time to find his shit around, find some classes and just take his clothes out of his suitcase without hearing his phone calling. he knows she missed him but damn girl he needed to study and all shit needed for college; it aint blake anymore that he was cheating everything from matteo or lowkey studying the day before, this is serious stuff and apparently he couldnt get a free breath.

anyway he sees the horsetail moving excitedly and sighs dramatically, because for once his old talent from young years will be helpful. gaston takes out tiny child flute from the back pocket of his pants and starts softly playing the melody his ex boyfriend matteo wrote for his own ex girlfriend luna valente. 

he didnt really like this song because its clearly stating he is singing about the girl which sucked if you asked gaston btw. but maybe the horse will like it. or one of its heads, because this fucking horse has three heads what the hell?

anyway the creature seems to concentrate on slow soft notes and even nina stops whining over the ripped material and starts listening while gaston stops and starts singing

como es que se elige una princesa como saber si es una de ellas

the horse shuts up and starts looking around which is difficult when one has three horse heads with long hair are moving and one head is choking on the hair of the other. anyway gaston keeps singing and going towards the horse slowly until he can pet it and braid its hair

its actually nice silky soft dark hair, hades must pay shit ton of money for conditioner, yet probably not as much as matteo balsano. gaston is caressing the hair and the horse head softly and keeps singing quietly to one ear and one head is already asleep

then he climbs using the hair braid he made to reach another ear and in few minutes all the horse heads are asleep, the third one ugly snoring but as long as no saliva is around gaston is cool. his oxford shoes were expensive anyway

there he finds nina who is shook to see him but also very happy and starts yelling “gahton! gahton” and he just picks her up, singing without a break because maybe she will be quiet this time

he leaves and hades thanks the stars

[somedaywellfindit]

literally every question on otp ask meme for Jared and Iris,,, ur welcome

u fuccin,,,,, like Good Choice but p ls @cortezthegamer

Who is the most affectionate?Iris, probably. She has a lot of love to give and, due to struggles to find a partner after her ex, a bit touch starved. When she’s with Jared, she’ll try to have physical contact if possible (when/if he’s comfortable with it ofc). She likes to just sit and hold him tbh.

Big spoon/Little spoon?Jared is the big spoon, Iris is the little spoon. They’ve tried switching it up from time to time but it was just really weird for them. They get used to it over time but it’s still always gonna be Jared = Big spoon, Iris = Little spoon :’)

Most common argument?Iris isolating herself is definitely something they fight about. Jared thinks it’s getting to an unhealthy point since she rarely accepts help, even from her own brother. He wants to help her and he can’t and it’s really frustrating. He understands why she struggles, it’s just difficult for both of them.

Favourite non-sexual activity?Going to the arcade to play DDR!! They love competing against each other in that and people most likely end up watching them. They also go out for milkshakes. They’d go to the theatre too, but probably not That Often bc its expensive lmao. They also cook together, Iris teaching him recipes sometimes.

Who is most likely to carry the other?Idk why but I see Iris carrying Jared ghakj. Jared could lift her but she’s kinda self conscious of her weight so she wouldn’t let him most of the time. He does, however, get flustered when this woman who’s almost half a foot shorter than him carries him bc Wow strong women are Wonderful lmao.

What is their favourite feature of their partner’s?Iris loves Jared’s hair. She loves to run her hand through it. She also really likes his eyes but his hair is her fave.Idk for Jared. Maybe her legs??? idk hbjkhskj

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?Iris gets super flustered around Jared when she realises she has feelings for him. I mean “wow you complimented me?? time to Fucking Die. you stretch before we run??? i can’t stop lookin at u now lmao” kind of flustered.Jared gets a bit more flirty when he realises he has feelings for Iris. He thinks she’s cute when she’s flustered. She gets super blushy and will probably try to hide her face and he finds it adorable.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?The normal ‘babe’, ‘sweetie’, stuff like that. The first time Jared called Iris babe, she was cooking and almost burned her hand. ‘Sweetie’ actually started off as ‘hun’, which was Iris’ go-to nickname for Jared. She changed it because she tends to call her friends ‘hun’ so it got really confusing when Jason, her brother, and Jared were in the same room.

Who worries the most?Iris tends to isolate herself when she’s having a Bad Day (this usually happens when it’s close to when her mother passed away). Jared will worry about her a lot, especially since he doesn’t really know why she does this until Cat or Bree explain it to him. Even then, he still worries and will try to help her.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?Jared. He remembers Iris’ most common order from the nearby Italian restaurant. He won’t order for her but when she does order, Jared gives her a smug look that screams “I knew it”. She just gives him a small kick under the table and tells him to shut up.

Who tops?Jared. They’ll probably switch like,,,, one or two times? But it’s mainly Jared who tops lmao.

Who initiates kisses?Also Jared. Iris gets embarrassed when she initiates kisses, especially at the start of their relationship. She’d probably get better with it but Jared still initiates them.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?Iris is very, very touch starved. If she can, she’ll try to hold Jared’s hand, so she’s the one who would reach first. Even on bad days when she isolates herself. She’ll grab his hand when she feels comfortable with touching.

Who kisses the hardest?Jared lmao. He’s passionate and that definitely shows through his kisses.

Who wakes up first?Iris does. She’s used to waking up early due to having to help around the house when her mother was ill, having to get herself and her brother ready for school and to make breakfast for herself, Jason and their mother.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?Jared. ‘Ris will try and get him up and he’ll just get Iris to lie down and fall back asleep.

Who says I love you first?Iris. She can’t initiate a kiss but dammit she will blurt out “I love you”. She went bright red, covered her face and just kept saying sorry. Jared just moved her hands away and smiled, then hugged her.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)Iris is probably the one who makes lunch for Jared. She’ll leave little post-it notes saying “Have a good day. ♡ “ or just a simple “I love you.” If Jared makes Iris’ lunch, it’ll be stuff saying “Don’t pressure yourself.” or “Have fun!”.Edit: I was told Jared's notes would just say “Bagoom” which is totally true and completely valid tbh.

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?It’s kinda hard for them to keep their relationship hidden from their friends and, in Iris’ case, family since they share a house with their friends. So Iris tells Jason first and then they both tell their friends about the relationship. Jared tells his family a while later.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?Almost everyone would be fine with it tbh. If Jared and Iris are happy, then so are they.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?Iris will start dancing with Jared when they’re on their own. If they’re out and there’s dancing involved, Jared will start dancing with Iris.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?Iris’ parents taught both her and her brother how to cook from a young age, so they’ve gotten really good at it. Jared can cook but Iris does it really well and far more often. He will help though.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?Jared omg. He’d probably use fuckin,, video game ones or something idk. It does, however, get Iris very flustered. 

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?Jared hjjias. He is a flirty bastard and Will use this on his girlfriend. She gets flustered but tbh, she enjoys it.

Who needs more assurance?Iris. She doesn’t like her weight that much (saying she should work out with Jared more) and she needs someone to comfort her when she’s having a bad day (which is more often than she’d like to admit)..

What would be their theme song?Classic by MKTO is their real one.Dabarobics by ElliotExplicit is their joke one.

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?Iris, most likely. She’s got a cousin who’s a musician, of course he’d give her singing lessons. She’ll sing in Japanese most of the time so the child can grow up learning part of their heritage.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?Iris will play games like Overwatch with Bree and Cat or spend time with Saoirse. Jared will watch movies and steal fucKCING LOCKERS WITH DANIEL AND JASON BECAUSE WHY THE H E L L NOT.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heartIdk lmao I want these kids to be happy yo

one headcanon about this OTP that mends itThem starting a family together. They’d just be great parents and they’d adore their kids and pets.

[jdixiidbcjwob1]

You hadn’t been able to keep your hands off him since you both got out of the shower; there’d been too much foreplay within the steamy, dangerously close proximity for you to withhold any longer.

It’d started innocently enough with him helping wash down your back with a sudsy loofah as you massaged shampoo into his sopping curls. He hadn’t meant for it to escalate the way it did— he just wanted it to be a nice couple activity that would help both of you unwind from the recent stressors that had been set on the world’s shoulders.

Robbie had pulled you close under the drizzling stream of warm water, working the soapy sponge down the curved line that accentuated the center of your spine, rolling it in lazy circles across the dip of your back. His head had nuzzled into your damp neck, mouth pressing to the mellow pulse, the skin of his lips rubbery and squeaky against your own.

You had squeezed out a decently sized glob of shampoo into the palm of your hand, slowly carding your fingers into his matted ringlets, starting at the nape of his neck and working the product upwards tenderly into his scalp.

The soothing motions of the pads of your digits had made his knees buckle slightly, a gurgley, raw moan elbowing its way out from the back of his throat without his permission. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

The vibrations of the deep groan had sunken into the flexing tendons of your throat, radiating through your entire body and burrowing into your bones. You’d nearly collapsed in his lean arms right then and there.

You get the feeling he could sense the impact it’d had on you due to the way his forearms had tightened around your torso; it was like he could sense your limbs about to give out into him.

Your lips had flushed against the penetrating thump echoing in his temple, your fingers winding harder into his hair until he released a tiny, guttural whimper. Your voice had come out as a wispy mumble, drunk on the sensation of his nails gently scraping up and down the fleshy mounds of your hips. “Missed this.”

Robbie’s nod has been slow and numb, his eyes lulled shut and mind half submerged in the comforting heat exchanging between your tangled bodies, also lost in the pattering of the water working the knots out of his tense back. When he spoke, his words were a low and jumbled hazy mess, accent slathered thicker than usual. “God, I fucking missed you.”

A fond, flattered smile had wrestled with your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“So much— more than anything.” Robbie’s lips had started rubbing against the faint outline of your collarbones, the breath of his sentences searing your skin with pinpricks of pleasure. “Missed your smell and your smile and how pretty you look when you sleep. Missed the way you snort when you laugh too hard and the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when I compliment you because they get all hot.”

Your feet are suddenly swept from under you, sliding backwards across the slippery tiles as Robbie’s arm lifts you off the shower floor just enough to easily glide you towards the nearest wall.

The marble is freezing cold when it hits your back, causing your nails to instinctively rake into his scalp. He seems to enjoy it, obvious in how he pools an appreciative hum into the alcove at the center of your jugular.

He draws back a bit and plunks his forehead to yours, eyebrows furrowing as his lashes flutter and intermingle with your own, muted green irises dazed. You can feel the creases that form between his brows tickle your wet skin.

A sheepish murmur burns your cupid’s bow. “Promised myself I wouldn’t make this about sex so quickly.”

You gift him a gradual bat of your eyes, tongue peeking out to stifle some of the itching running across your upper lip. “Why’s that?”

The way you’re ogling up at him with that innocent doe-like gaze is wearing away at the scarce traces of sanity he has left. He swallows thickly, gnawing at the inside of his cheek to reign in some control, his eyes softening with affection. “Hadn’t seen you in so long that I just wanted to spend some quality time together. Don’t want you to think I’m with you just for the shagging.”

You burst into a round of airy laughter, head falling back and thunking hollowly against the speckled black wall of the bathroom. “S’not really a problem to me given that the shagging is pretty good.”

Robbie’s swollen, tinted lips break into a sly grin of their own, the tip of his nose streaking across yours in an intimate, light-heated gesture. A boyish giggle flutters in the back of his throat, two front teeth tugging at his lower lip thoughtfully. “It is really fucking good, isn’t it?”

You mirror his action as images of past nights flicker behind your eyes like pages of book— an extensive, very heated, very graphic novel. “So fucking good, honey.”

His eyelids droop over his dilating pupils, cheekbones blossoming with various shades of red and pink at the use of one of his favorite pet names, the light hairs along his tan arms tingling. “Love how that sounds coming from your mouth.”

You thumb over his small ears, paying special attention to the sensitive shells. A shiver wrings across his broad shoulders and you coo a feathery laugh at his expense. “How long’s it been, again?”

You knew how long— you’d been counting the days from the moment he stepped onto the plane. However, hearing him say it himself made you feel comforted, in a way. It was nice to know that he’d kept track of it, too, because it meant he had missed you just as much as you had missed him.

Robbie’s brows cinch yet again as he recalls all those hard days jumping around hotel rooms and sleeping in empty cold beds without your body heat to get him through the difficult nights. His response comes out as a pained sigh. “Two months.”

You nod your head in sympathetic agreement, tucking a rouge damp curl behind his ear. “Two months exactly. So with that taken into consideration, you can see why I’m not against you fucking me sore as soon as possible…”

His eyes fly open at your crude remark, pupils blown way out of portion as the light olive color inks a darker emerald hue. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got the filthiest mind, y’know that?”

Robbie pries an arm from around your waist, the textured pad of his index finger tracing delicately along the curve of your bottom lip. He expresses his thoughts aloud, tone one of awed need. “Such a pretty mouth with such a dirty fucking tongue. Daydream about it constantly.”

You part your lips, coaxing the digit inside and just barely biting down on it teasingly. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

A breath catches in Robbie’s throat, veins chiseling into existence as the muscles beneath grow taut with aroused angst. He has to force the words out, feeling the sour aftertaste simmer his sinuses. “I think about shoving myself down your throat and watching you take every inch while your eyes water. Think about guiding your head with a fist in your hair while you moan around my cock and beg for me cum in your mouth.”

He pauses for a second, mouth ghosting over yours, the corners twitching with playful smugness as he notices the air struggling to leave your lungs. “But mostly, I think about that dreamy little smile you get when I tell you what a good girl you are for me. Y’know the one, right? That wispy grin you give me despite the fact that your mouth is full.”

You lick over your suddenly chapped skin, having trouble swallowing with a dry throat. You manage to croak out a measly phrase that is hardly enough to communicate the raging in your lower belly.

“Need you.”

Robbie’s too cocky for his own good and he’s well aware of it, but he can’t stop himself from making a mildly arrogant comment— especially not when he knows how much it gets you going.

“Need me to what, darling? Use your words.”

You give a rough yank to the curls along the back of his head as revenge for his condescending attitude, pushing down the way it makes your stomach boil. His neck jerks back, exposing his flexing throat and sharp jaw, a self-assured smirk jolting the edges of his ridiculously beautiful mouth. He releases a teensy hiss at the harsh actions, which slowly molds into a round of tempting chuckles.

You swallow down your pride and speak up.

“Need you to fuck me. Please.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You both rinse off hastily, making sure to get rid of all the soap and shampoo to avoid embarrassing rashes interrupting the hours of exertion that are sure to come.

You’re out in less than ten minutes, Robbie standing before the mirror shaking out his tangled curls with a thick cotton towel as another one barely clings to his waist, back muscles contracting and stretching with his movements. His tanned skin seems to glow under the fluorescent lights of the washroom, dark tattoos prominent and alluring, especially along the prominent structure dipping downwards from his hips.

You dry off as quickly as possible, not being able to resist the urge to touch him in some way. Your lips are on his pulse in an instant, the palm of one of your hands delving under the linen cloth and running along the underside of his shaft. The feeling of him plumping in your cupped digits has your eyes rolling shut.

A conceited whisper plucks at your ears and froths the pit of your tummy. “Forgot what a desperate little thing you are.”

“Just hurry up.”

Robbie twists around and tosses the towel he’d been using on his curls onto its designated hook, finger-combing his locks up into a miniature ponytail and tying it off with the pastel pink velvet scrunchie you had left discarded on the bathroom counter. “What’s that one line about patience being a virtue or summat?”

“Well, I don’t wanna wait.“

He turns to face you, reaching up to cup your face gently with his large hand, squeezing your jaw jokingly and kissing the tip of your cold nose. “Well, you’re gonna have to. I have to take a picture to send to Zane Lowe for the interview tomorrow.”

You kink an eyebrow upwards, curiosity momentarily stifling the need to feel him pressed up against your stomach. “Right now? Fresh out of the shower?”

Robbie gives a casual shrug, one end of his mouth curling into a nonchalant simper. “The faster it gets done, the better. Plus, I get the feeling I won’t be leaving the bed for a while so it’s best I do it now.”

Your fingers tighten around the base of his prick, the coarse, neatly trimmed hair of his pelvis itching your skin. “Fine.”

He reaches for his phone, opening up the camera and pointing it at the mirror, making sure to keep the reflection of his bare ass out of frame, as well as the hand tugging him off beneath the sink.

You thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the precum pearling out of the tip and using it as lubrication to speed up your pace.

Robbie’s entire body jerks in response, jaw clenching and collarbones straining his skin. His arms are shaky and he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to snap an appropriate photo.

“Just take the picture, H.”

“S’what I’m trying to do but it’s a little hard when something else is demanding my attention in such an insistent way.”

“Take it or I’m going to drop on my knees right now and you’ll have to apologize to Zane and the team tomorrow.”

He captures a quick, somewhat half-assed image with his face hidden behind the phone— the teeth marks littering his lips would cause a catastrophic earthquake within the media.

His phone ends up in the towel hamper, his leftover towel ends up on the floor, and you end up getting exactly what you wanted.

[nothlits-archive]

I'm so fucking drained because of bad customers tonight at work causing me to have an anxiety attack. It's just one of those situations where I can't handle the guilt I deal with in this job. My chest has hurt for hours now. This post is about animal abuse so feel free to skip it.

This older couple was in looking at a crested gecko we have but I told them if they had never had reptiles before it would be better to start with an adult because the baby we have is very very small, a hatchling. The woman straight up asked me "will it die easily?" so that was a red flag they do not need a fragile baby or really any animal at all. I told them they could check Petco for a bigger gecko or this local shop.

They came back like an hour later with a Petco box and I expected them to have a gecko in it but they open it and its A FUCKING IGUANA. I'm like Jesus Christ okay. Why did you do this.

They ask me to get them everything they need for it, and I don't know a lot about iguanas so I pulled up a care sheet and showed them very basics. Strip uvb and fixture, basking light, cypress bedding, digital thermometer and hygrometer, coverage, hides. The whole entire time they're bitching to me about how much this all costs and how they don't want to buy it. I showed them a thermometer and they said "we'll buy that later". I said "you can't, if you don't know how hot it is in your enclosure your pet can get sick or die. Everything I'm showing you you have to get now, you can't put things off with reptiles."

They basically told me to leave so I handed them the care sheet I printed for them, told them what their temps and humidity need to be at and that iguanas are difficult to care for and very expensive, and told them to let me know if they had questions, and I walked away.

Turns out they bought reptibark (doesn't hold humidity anywhere near 75%), a very small fake plant, an undersized half log hide, and a shitty gauge thermometer/hygrometer (extremely inaccurate). No heat source. No uvb. I repeatedly explained to them what a uvb is and that they need to be kept at 105-110 degrees for basking. Apparently it just doesn't matter. I also guarantee they don't know how big iguanas get or what they eat or how to take care of them.

Shit like this makes me literally physically sick because all I can think about is that poor animal slowly dying cold and dry and unable to use its limbs and starving... And there's nothing I can do to stop it. There was nothing else I could have done to get these people to listen to me or care. I'm 100% certain this iguana is going to die in their care and they don't even fucking care. They just bought it to have it and when it dies they'll blame us or Petco for their complete lack of regard for that animal's needs. I hope people like them die, I don't care if it's mean of me. If you can treat an animal like that I don't fucking care.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #79

“there’s a man standing on top of a hill, screaming freedom for some, but all others must kneel.”

how do you typically introduce yourself in online settings? name, age, location, and i'll usually mention my passions. what do you think will bring on the end of the world? nuclear war, global warming, black hole, etc. religious armageddon of some sort. i don't even remember how the bible mentioned the world would end. do you believe in the death penalty? in VERY FEW CASES, yes. some people are just pure villainous. have you ever done role play? i think my common viewers know i'm a meerkat forum rper, but i've never done, like, real life rp. too weird for me personally. have you ever/would you ever do anal? nope and nope. what’s more important- length or width? why? i don't really care? do you talk dirty during sex? moderately. what was your first orgasm like? never had one, but i got extremely close once while being fingered but panicked so we stopped. i didn't know what was going on lmao. do you own any hair extensions from hot topic? nope. 7-11, sheetz, wawa, or starbucks? sheetz. what do you want to name your kids? daughter will 100% be alessandra, boy will be vincent, luther, or victor. do you personally know any authors? i knew a poet once, but never an author. kissed someone within a day of having a bf/gf? no, holy fuck, slow down. have you ever kept it a secret from someone that you liked them? yeah. have you ever finished an entire jaw breaker? i don't think so. is there anyone you would date on your facebook friend list? no. ever been swimming in a lake or river? lake, multiple times. first time you kissed the last person you kissed? 2012 have you ever broken someone’s heart? idk. ever had a near death experience? i guess so. i overdosed, but i wasn't heavily affected by it, honestly. i've also gotten in a mild wreck. when was the last time you held someone’s hand? some months ago when i was getting my cyst emptied; i was holding mom's. can you play guitar hero? expert, babe. who is someone you know that can play the piano well? no one. who is the best dancer you know? carmen, the older sister of my little sister's former friend. name a time you thought you were going to die? immediately after i overdosed. have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? very commonly. do you know your neighbors? nope. how do you feel about interracial couples? awesome. what restaurant do you think has the best french fries? i am honestly not certain! who’s your best guy friend? sam or girt, idk. do you like fruit roll ups? yep. what’s the worse type of weather in your opinion? hot and humid. UGH. do you have a kindle or ipad or neither? neither. growing up, did you see your cousins often? i didn't. they live many states away. around what time do you usually eat dinner? between 6-7:30 do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? i don't like carrots period. did you play with legos as a kid? nope. which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? bad grammar. is there a food that you love the taste of, but makes you feel sick? bananas are the prime example. love 'em, but i get heartburn that could kill a man. which did you discover first, myspace or facebook? myspace have you ever turned to drinking or smoking to solve a problem? let me clarify something here: drinking/smoking does not "solve" the problem, nor do i believe it is capable of doing so. have i turned to drinking for some relief from a problem, sure. if you HAD to get a piercing (not ears) what would you get? i want my lip repierced. what do you wish you had more knowledge about? politics. i don't understand a good 3/4 of it have you ever dealt with a divorce or parents fighting or any kind of abuse at home? divorce and parents fighting, yes. they fought so bad that just yelling became a trigger to me. do you drink more apple or orange juice? orange juice do you think relationships are hard? honestly, no. just think about it: if you truly love someone, what is so difficult about it? what is your favorite pop-tart flavor? oh my gaaaad the reeses ones. ever had the ‘birds and the bees’ talk with your parents? nope. i learned in family life. do you think you have to be skinny in order to be beautiful? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!! would you ever get gauged ears? noooo. have you ever been in a school talent show? what for? i haven't, but my best friend sang in one!! have you ever dated someone you met online? nope. are you a competitive person? nope. do you believe in aliens? i do not. do you like dancing? not really anymore... it's draining. where are you from? north carolina how much more social are you when you’re drunk? VERY if you had to be named after one of the 50 states, which would it be? dakota is tomboyish, i like that... or georgia, sounds very pretty... what’s your favorite form of exercise? swimming do you like guacamole? NO EW do you consider yourself sexually open minded? sure? how do you feel about porn? it's fucking disgusting. who was your hottest ex? jason was hot, don't care what anyone says. do you want/have kids? i want them. has anyone ever told you that they wanted to marry you? ohhhh, how funny! he's not around anymore! :D do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? nah. what’s your favorite flavor of iced tea? i hate tea. have you ever been to a casino? if so, which one(s)? none. do you love or hate olives? eh, neutral. have you ever visited a sex shop? nope. do you like the name cindy for a girl? nope. how many sets of keys do you have for your house? two. do you know anyone who has parkinson’s disease? don't think so. how many cousins do you have? what are their names? OH GOD TOO MANY. have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? i have not. do you use instagram? how often do you post there? i do not. what’s your favorite brand of beer? never tried beer. do you like writing? how often do you write? i love writing! i do it a few times a day. what’s your favorite place to get pizza? domino's! has there ever been a fire inside your house? tell me the story. not while we inhabited it. our old house, however, burned to a crisp inside due to its new residents putting a fucking box on the stove. it was a brick house though, so the exterior was fine and it was rebuilt on the interior. have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? no. how many piercings do you have? only four now... ugh. do you own any sports bras? where’d you get them from? i do not. what’s the most expensive restaurant you’ve ever eaten at? no place all that expensive, honestly. who was the last person to tell you that you were beautiful/cute/good-looking? are you attracted to that person too? chelsea called me beautiful, and she absolutely is, too! has anyone ever called you stuck-up? no. when is the next birthday in your household and whose is it? nicole's is in april. what color are your father’s eyes? brown in winter, would you rather wear a jacket or hoodie? hoodie have you ever voluntarily read the bible? i read some of it, yes. how much is gas where you live? like... $2.20 a gallon. do you have any gay friends? i do. do you like the state you live in? nope. who is your favorite person to watch on youtube? has to be a singular youtuber? then markiplier. how often would you say you take naps? once every few days. have you ever played bejeweled? that game was my mom's SHIT. it was all right. does your mom have a facebook? yes. have you ever been bitten by a rat? no. why do you not wash off your makeup on some nights? being lazy. does blueberry syrup sound good to you, right now? no. did you get lucky on prom night? sex-wise, no, but in my own opinion, i got very lucky, because we made my favorite memory. have you ever fallen for your ex’s best friend? noooo. last song you had stuck in your head? "pity party" by melanie martinez has been stuck in my head for over 24 hours lmao kill me did you ever spill something and actually cry over it? i don't know of a specific occasion, but it's possible i have, especially if i was REALLY hungry or thirsty. do you think that everyone is capable of love? i sure do not. do you believe in astrology? nope. i don't waste my time with it. if you had to wear a hat for the rest of your life, what would it be? fedora. they sexy. would you rather have a musical alarm clock or a regular one? musical!! when you were little, what was your favorite game? the "spyro the dragon" trilogy was my life. do you prefer to wrap gifts or use gift bags? gift bags are more aesthetically pleasing, imho. do you own a trenchcoat? fam i wish. are you currently in a smoking environment? yes. chelsea is allowed to smoke here. if a stranger smiles at you, do you smile back? usually, but i may feel a bit awkward. have you ever known a guy who caused a lot of drama? i sure do. have you ever taken care of a drunk friend? nope. what’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? i'm not entirely certain how i feel about it. now if you're hunting and actually eat what you kill, that's 100% cool, it's survival. but killing just to kill? sounds... immoral. but then again, i'm a christian and understand animals were put on the earth for humans, so idk. have you ever gone in a sauna? oh fuck that. sounds like hell to me. out of these colors, which appeals most to you: orange, blue, or green? orange do you believe in finders keepers in most situations? not at all. has anyone in your family fought in any of the wars? not to my knowledge. would you make any changes to your current bedroom? i, technically, do not have a bedroom atm bc we're in the process of moving. what animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? meerkats, totes. having them as pets is horrible for them, and i'm pretty sure it's illegal in the u.s., too. do you own many pairs of shorts? i have none. is there a certain song you like to head bang to? surprisingly, i don't headbang. hurts my head. who was or will be the maid of honor/best man in your wedding? colleen! :D what is your favorite lunch meat?  salami, probs. do you still have your tonsils? i do. red or pink? pink! do you have a special talent? lmaoooo where were you born? rocky mount, nc do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother?  no. what do you think the hardest part of surviving is?  just the pain of it. do you know anyone with a lazy eye? yep. can you remember your parents’ birthdays?  mom's, yes; dad's, no. what piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? lip. tongue is a close second, they sexy. what brand of hair dye do you prefer to use? splat, bc it actually works for my hair. are you any good at applying make up?  no, due to my tremor. are you currently wearing any hair accessories? which ones? i am not. do you like potato chips? bury me in a bag of lays pls gold or silver? gold is there an animal that creeps you out? WHALE SHARKS, slugs, certain spiders and bugs, etc... have you ever seen northern lights? i wish! do your parents smoke? dad does is your favorite animal endangered?  no how old is your best friend?  21 if there was a large spider in your room, would you stay in the room? that shit's gotta get out, no. what color is your cell phone? black do you take vitamins daily?  no what’s one thing you hate about your best friend?  she's racist. be honest: do you illegally download music? yeah. welcome to 2k17. what’s the worst crime someone can commit? rape. you’re painting your room. what color do you choose? hm. i'd really have to see how my new room's going to look, but maybe like, a coffee-colored tan. what dog breed is the cutest ever? akita inus, eeeek! are cherries delicious? ew, no. have you ever experienced a tornado? thank the actual lord jesus christ no. how about a flood? yes. my brother went outside, slid down the slide on our playset, and fucking swam in it lmao do you or have you ever owned a pair of light up shoes? sure, as a kid. what is a current goal you’re trying to achieve? obtain a job. is there something that you thought you would’ve outgrown/gotten over by now, but haven’t? definitely forum meerkat role-play. i started that in middle school ffs dude. how often do you “draw a blank” mentally? A LOT. mainly when i'm talking, which is annoying. have you ever played the sims?   the animal ones, yes.  loved 'em. is your current hair color your natural hair color?   no, but you can see my roots now. can you run a mile in under 7 minutes?   HAHAHAHAHAHAHA do you have your license?   i do not.  i'm a nervous wreck when driving. have you ever sleep walked?   i have not. where was your first job?   gamestop do you remember your second grade teacher’s name?   mrs. whitley what do you like on your sundaes?   i like nothing "on" them have you been blessed with the ability to cook and/or bake?   nope... have you gained more than 5 lbs within the past year?   ... i gained over 100.  it's fucking embarrassing.  i just found out recently the weight gain was moreso a medication i was finally taken off of rather than eating habits, though. do you want kids at some point?   i do. are you lactose intolerant?   no. do you believe in abstaining from sex until marriage?   it's a personal choice.  if you want to, go for it. what is your sexual orientation?   heterosexual have you ever bought clothing online?   yes, i prefer it. do you think shakespeare is difficult to read?   not really, no. do you play solitaire in the computer?   no, dunno how. have you ever received nude pictures from someone?   no. admit it: you had a neopets account.   damn right i did, neopets was/is rad. is there a pet in the room with you right now?   miracle and maxwell are currently playing, yes. how weight conscious are you?   VERY OMG is there anyone else with you right now?   bradley, colleen's husband, is currently watching tv in here w/ me. have you ever been accused of cheating?   nope. have you ever taken a train?   i have not. is being thin really all that great?   not necessarily "thin," but slim, sure.  you're more likely to be physically healthy. have you ever been to a night club?   i haven't. does any accent annoy you?   a veeeery thick southern accent doesn't "annoy" me, but it's aggravating 'cuz i can't understand you. what’s worse: crocs or uggs?   crocs are unholy. do you feel awkward when a stranger sits next to you?   yep. do you have any taylor swift songs on your ipod?   ... i confess to "picture to burn" and "should've said no" kill me pls do you want your tongue or belly button pierced?   tongue, yes.  a belly button ring wouldn't look good on me. do you hate it when people smoke around you?   YEAH what is your blood-type?   a.  don't remember if it's positive or negative tho. are you donating your organs?   yes. do you sleep on your side, stomach or back?   side, always. have you ever been a fan of ‘n sync?   i was a '90s baby.  you know it. do you know anyone that has/had cancer?   mom had kidney cancer. were you a big jump roper back in the day?   i was.  i got to where i could jump in. has a boy/girl ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend for you?   yes.  not that i wanted that to happen. do you like chinese food?   a few things, sure.  just had some last night. do long distance relationships work?   of course.  not my first choice for me personally though. how do you like your eggs?   scrambled, cheesy. mcdonald’s or burger king?   mcd's.

[anavoliselenu]

freedom ch 16

Selena and I walked, her arm threaded through mine, along the brightly lit city streets as the sun set over the tall buildings. It wasn't too cold outside, but the snow was falling lightly, creating the perfect Chicago Christmas season. I could take a picture and put it on a postcard.

The store windows held precious merchandise that they pushed on costumers who didn't have enough money to pay for anything. No wonder this country was in debt.

It wasn't that I hated Christmas, but I hated all the pageantry. It was overwhelming and tedious. Why couldn't we just wake up and have a nice family breakfast while opening a few gifts? Instead, it turned into the season of parties, carolers, expensive obligations, and a fake icon used to guilt kids into being good for the entire year. I hadn't believed in Santa Claus since I was five. It was a ridiculous notion, and I didn't know how parents could let their kids grow up fantasizing about a fat man in a red suit. Selena called me Scrooge. I liked to call it realism.

"Justin, what do you think we should get Alice?" Selena asked, window shopping from afar.

"She likes clothes."

"I know, but we can be more inventive than that."

"Um, expensive clothes."

"I'll think of something."

"Selena, are you done yet? We still have to get home and prepare for the party tomorrow."

"Not yet, Justin. I still have to get something for my mother."

"But we've been out in these streets for five hours already."

"You act like I'm trying to kill you."

"You basically are."

"We get one afternoon away from the babies, and you can't even handle it."

"I'm sorry that I prefer my warm house to this congestion." Yet another person bumped into me on the street. It took all I had not to kill him.

"You just don't like to be happy."

"Three things make me happy. You, Roman, and Sophia. I can live without all of this extra stuff." I held up the bags in my hands.

"We'll go in a second."

Selena and I rounded the corner and saw a Santa ringing a bell, begging for money. Being the charitable woman that she was, Selena pulled out her purse and dropped a rather large wad of cash into his red pale.

I suppressed the groan and words that threatened to erupt from my mouth.

We passed a few vendors selling various things, but I didn't pay any attention to them. This year, I was determined to just go as simple as possible with my gifts. Hell, my brothers were getting fucking pens. That was it. Granted, they were expensive fountain pens that cost more than most people's mortgage payments, but still pens nonetheless.

"What's that?" Selena pointed across the street to a man holding up a sign.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Can we go?"

"Wait." She let go of my arm and ran through the standing traffic.

"Selena!" I shouted after her.

By the time I got to her she was cooing over a small puppy that she had picked up from a box. There were about six and they were hanging on each other, trying to paw their way up the sides.

"Look, Justin. They're so cute." She wrapped one in her fur coat.

"They're for sale," the man said.

"Where is their mother?" Selena asked.

"She died from birth complications," he replied regretfully.

"That's so sad."

"Selena, don't touch those things. You don't know where they've been." I cringed.

"They're purebred German Shepherds. Just eight weeks old."

"Don't even ask me if we can have one." I picked the dog up from Selena's arm and placed him back in the box. "Gross."

"I wasn't going to ask," she said, but her face told me otherwise.

"We can't have another dog, especially not a puppy."

"You act like they have some kind of disease or something. I was just trying to pet them." She wrapped herself up.

"They might. You don't know."

"Fine," she sighed. "I guess we're done. We should go home before it gets too cold."

William was somehow immediately there with the car and got out to hold the door open. Selena ducked inside and instantly began dialing on her phone, probably calling the house about the babies.

"Damn it." I growled and stomped my foot in frustration. "Why does she always do this to me?"

I put the bags into the trunk of the car, and then got in myself. Selena and I didn't talk to each other the entire way home. By the time we pulled into the driveway, it was dark and the lights of our house shined proudly.

Selena had done an exceptional job decorating; the place really did look amazing, inside and out.

Katy Nana was running around trying to tidy up before the party tomorrow, while carters were using the kitchen for their pre-prep. This party was a very big deal with a lot of guests, so Selena wanted to make sure it was perfect. I stayed to myself and let her do it all. I had to sign all the checks, though.

"Mr. Justin, you can't eat that." Carmela took a stuffed mushroom from my hand as I was about to pop it in my mouth.

"Why not? They need to be sampled."

"Mr. Alec has already done that." She put the tray in the fridge.

"Is there anything I can eat?"

"Not at the moment. Dinner won't be ready for another hour or so." Katy Nana shooed me off.

"Fine, I'll be in the basement for my workout if anyone needs me."

I changed and stuffed my ear buds in as I set the treadmill on its highest setting. When I was about halfway through a mile, Francis nudged the door open and hopped up on the machine next to me. I set it on low and he walked with his fat legs. This was our routine for most mornings. I had trained him to get some exercise in at least once a day. By the time three miles were finished, I was exhausted, but kept going.

Selena made her way into the room with a tray of food. She set it down on the table, and I shut off my machine, sweat dripping from my brow.

"I brought you two some food." She sat in one of the chairs. "I figured you might be hungry."

"Well, thank you." I inhaled and exhaled easily.

We didn't speak for a couple of awkward seconds.

"Look, Justin, I didn't mean to snap at you earlier." She played with her hair. "I'm a little on edge, if you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I noticed."

"I'm just trying to make this holiday a memorable one."

"And I'm making it difficult, I know."

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little happier." She came to sit on my lap. "At least for the pictures I expect a smile."

"I will give you anything you want."

"At the party tomorrow, don't kill anyone and try to be on your best behavior."

"Yes, ma'am." I shook my head, flopping sweat all over her from my hair.

"Ew, Justin. Stop it. You're worse than Francis."

My dog was currently panting and lying spread eagle on his stomach on the floor. I hadn't bothered to turn off his machine so he had been on there at least as long as I had.

"I think he's dead." I kicked him lightly. He rolled over with a grunt.

"He's too fat to be doing all that running." Selena left my lap and sat on the floor, rubbing his stomach.

Carmela interrupted the moment and ran into the room. "You have a call, Mr. Justin. It's your father."

I rolled my eyes taking phone from her. "Hello."

"Why hello, son. Your mother and I were just RSVP'ing to your party tomorrow night."

"I don't recall you being on the invitation list," I lied.

He was silent for a second. "We can find something else to do if you'd rather us not attend."

Selena gave me a stern look.

I sighed, "Fine. You can come."

"Thank you. We'll be there."

I hung up before he could say anything else.

"I don't like this," I said to Selena.

"It's going to be one hell of a party. Don't worry."

The next night, I had spent a good hour properly grooming before the party. I tried to stay out of everyone's way because they all seemed to be working so hard. I took my time, styling my hair, and then changed it up again when I didn't like it.

I could hear feet downstairs of servers who were preparing for the night. Katy Nana's voice was loud and demanding as she ordered people around. If I peeked out of the window, I saw the line of valets, all in nicely pressed suits, ready to take cars from the guests. We still had over an hour left, but Selena wasn't leaving anything to chance. These preparations had been going on all day.

I went downstairs for breakfast and lunch, but spent most of my time in the bedroom. That was a rare occurrence. I would usually scoff at the thought of wasting countless hours in bed, although, I did have Roman and Sophia. I laid them out on blankets and just kept them with me all day so that Selena, Katy Nana, Carmela, and Agata could focus on other things. The house was decorated like a winter wonderland, with all sorts of adornments that made it look like we lived on a movie set.

My navy blue suit had been tailored with the final touches just this morning so the fit was perfect.

"Very handsome." Katy Nana came into the bathroom, carrying both babies impressively in her arms.

I took Roman and held him close to me so that we could see each other in the mirror.

"Look at us." I pointed. "You're going to be the spitting image of me. I just know it, and I'm sure the girls will be chasing after you."

Katy Nana shook her head.

"It's all in the eyes. Women love the eyes," I told him. "That's how I got your mother. And my smile. She likes that."

He reached for my hair, effectively messing up my hours of work, but I didn't mind. It was always kind of amazing to me how Selena and I created children. They were the perfect mixture of the both of us with each of our features within them, but I knew as they grew older, they would be completely different people. I was actually kind of proud of my kids just for being them. I was such a fucking pussy.

"Everyone out of the bathroom." Selena came in, tearing her shirt over her head. "We only have half an hour left, and I need the place to myself."

"Selena, you need to calm yourself down," I said.

"I can't. I haven't even picked a dress out yet."

"I have several ready for you." Katy Nana smiled. "They're all hanging up."

"Thank you. You're a lifesaver."

"We shouldn't upset her," I whispered to Roman, and we all left the room.

"Here," Katy Nana handed me Sophia, "I have to go finish the final touches."

I set Roman and Sophia down on my bed so that they could look up at the ceiling. They were very expressive for just being three months old. Maybe all babies were like that, but I was convinced that mine were special. It wouldn't surprise me if they started talking or walking before the normal time.

I lied down with them and entertained them until Selena was done. I heard the shower running for about ten minutes, and then a string of curse words for another half hour. When I asked her if anything was wrong she just told me her hair was a mess and I should leave her alone.

It wasn't long before I heard cars start to pull up in the driveway and guests downstairs.

Selena glided out of the bathroom in a spectacular silver dress. It was floor-length and embellished with shiny fabric that caught the light. I wasn't sure what they were from a distance, but they made her look like she was shimmering. Her wavy dark hair was coerced into a bun at the base of her neck with a few tendrils left to frame her face. One feature that was fairly new was the bright red lip that she wore. I had never seen that before, and it was oddly enticing.

"That is your mother. She's the most beautiful woman in the entire world," I told Sophia, rubbing her stomach.

Selena took the compliment, blushing, and didn't look at me.

"I wasn't lying," I assured her. "Have you seen yourself? You look amazing tonight."

"Thank you." She kissed me.

Sophia started to coo, moving her little feet around and looking up at the ceiling. Selena came to join us on the bed.

"I'm surprised you're the first one dressed tonight," she said, pecking Roman's cheek.

"I took my time for once and didn't freak out. It's a wonder how much calmer I feel now that I'm not worrying about anything. Tonight is going to be a great party."

"I hope so."

There was a knock on our door.

"Come in."

Carmela peaked her head in and smiled impishly. "I was told to come relieve you of baby duty so that you two can enjoy the party."

"Good." I got up from the bed and straightened myself out before pulling Selena up with me. We looked ourselves over, making sure that every aspect of our appearances was perfect.

"Okay, so don't kill anyone tonight and be nice to your parents," Selena warned me.

I rolled my eyes.

I didn't know how on earth we were planning to fit four hundred people in our house, but it was far too many. I didn't even know who all was there, and I couldn't enjoy myself because I was more focused on keeping everyone in check.

No one was allowed on the upper levels. There was security in place to prevent any wandering guests, but even so, I was weary about people getting nosy. On more than one occasion, I saw a few visitors trying to secretively poke their heads into drawers and sneak around corners where they shouldn't. And then there was the touching. Everyone felt the need to put their hands on every single object in my house. I was about to explode.

We had originally planned on having children at the party since Selena wanted it to be more of a family thing, but it I vetoed that quickly and was glad I did. I had more than enough trouble keeping the grownups in line. Everyone who was invited had to bring a gift. Selena had the idea to donate them all to local children's charities, so the house was filled with them.

I tried being social and succeeded for a while, but left most of the talking to Selena. She was quite the social butterfly with a personality that was infectious. The holiday spirit suited her well.

"Justin, why don't you smile more?" Emmett asked me as we played a round of poker with Alec and Jasper at a corner table away from most of the mayhem. At this point, the party had been raging for a couple of hours and everyone was rather tipsy.

"I smile when I want to," I objected. "I don't like you so I don't waste my smile."

"Harsh." Alec folded his cards. "I'm out."

"As usual."

The pot was getting pretty large. I was determined to win, but Jasper and Emmett were better players than me. They had card savvy that I never would. I wasn't losing big bucks, but I still didn't find their jabbing remarks encouraging.

"This is a great party," Jasper said with enthusiasm. "And no drama so far."

"Have you seen Mom and Dad?" Alec asked.

"Not yet, hence why I said so far."

"I might have been a dick to Carlisle on the phone last night. My tone made it perfectly clear that he wasn't welcome in my house."

Alec leaned in. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but he's distancing himself from us."

"Why? What did he say?"

"Mom told me that he's writing a book."

"A book!" I shouted. "On what?"

"On us, the family."

"He can't do that," Jasper protested. "He's bound to give away secrets he shouldn't if he writes one."

"That's what I said." Alec shrugged. "He's still writing it. He doesn't know how to tell you, Justin."

"Because he know I'll shoot him. I won't allow it." I slammed my cards down.

"Can we talk about this later?" Emmett asked. "This is a party, after all."

"I need more booze." I drank the last of the bourbon in my glass.

A server was there instantly to retrieve the empty cup. "Anything else, sir?"

"I'll have a martini this time."

"Of course." He scurried off.

There were Christmas carols playing throughout the house, beautiful lights everywhere, and lots of camaraderie. With the little buzz I had going, the atmosphere was rather enjoyable. After two more rounds of poker, we had been joined by Selena and Rosalie.

"You don't have a very good hand," Selena informed me.

"I'll win. Emmett's bluffing," I whispered to her.

"How do you know?"

"He sucks on his teeth when he's lying; a horrible habit that he's done since we were kids."

Selena and I watched Emmett with inspecting glares. After a minute or two he sucked once on his top tooth and made a strange noise. I smiled, laying down my hand.

He cursed and banged his fist down. "Damn it. I thought I had him."

"We won!" Selena started to collect the money from the center of the table.

"I knew it," I said triumphantly.

"You cheated. Let's play again." Emmett grabbed the cards and began to shuffle.

"Fine. I can go all night."

There was a tap on my shoulder and a low voice in my ear. "Sir, we have a security issue."

"Oh?" I turned my head slightly towards him, trying not to appear concerned.

"A Vienna Volturi is trying to get into the house, but she's not on the list of people that Mrs. Bieber gave us. She's not allowed in, is she?"

"Not under any circumstances."

"We're trying to remove her from the property quietly, but she's making it difficult."

"Give me a second." I waved him off.

"Is everything okay?" Selena asked me, her smile not faltering from her face. She was having a good time, and I shouldn't ruin it.

"It's perfect. You stay here and play for me."

"I'm going to lose everything."

"I trust you." I kissed her lips shortly before getting up from the table.

As I walked through the house, several people stopped to chat. I gave them head nods and shook hands, being the perfect host. It took me about ten minutes to get outside.

Vienna was shaking, her body barely concealed in a short dress. Her skin was tight against her small frame. She looked strung out, completely unhealthy, and disgusting. There were bodyguards trying to hold her up, and she was fighting them off.

"Let me go! I was invited," she protested.

I stood on the front steps, watching her embarrass herself further. At one point in my life, I cared about this girl. We had a very long standing sexual relationship from the time we were fifteen. We always went back to each other, no matter what. Even if our fathers were fighting, it never affected what we had. Now I felt nothing. She was a gnat that never died.

"Vienna, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Oh, thank God. Justin, you can help me." She stumbled forward. "They won't let me in."

"What made you think you were invited?"

"Everyone who's anyone is in there. I should be too." She smiled drunkenly.

I instructed the security team to leave. They silently dashed inside and shut the door.

"Vienna, how did you get here?"

"I… don't remember." She swayed.

"You need to leave. I'm having one on my cars take you home."

"No! No, please." She grabbed at my arm. "Justin, please. I just want to come inside and enjoy myself."

"You're wasted and high. Stop acting like a fool."

"You don't want me to come inside?" She pouted, dancing her fingers up my chest. "We used to be together all the time."

"Vienna, you're humiliating yourself." I pushed her away. "If Selena wanted you here…"

"Don't mention her name," she seethed. "It's always about her now. Everywhere I go, it's all about her."

"I don't want to hurt you, Vienna, but I will if you don't leave." I was trying to be civil. I felt pity for this woman.

"I see the way you look at her." She began crying. "You used to look at me that way."

"It was never the same, and you know that. I never loved you."

"But I loved you!" Vienna screamed. "I always have, and you just tossed me aside."

"Go home."

"This could have been my house." She looked around. "You could have been my husband. Those babies could have been mine. They should be mine."

"Vienna, you're crossing a line. Leave." I was more forceful with my tone.

"Or what, you're going to kill me like you did Aro? I'm not scared of you, Justin."

I took a step forward, and she flinched violently.

"Get off of my property. I don't want to see you ever again."

"You've said that before, Justin." She laughed humorlessly, walking towards me. "You've said it plenty of times, but I'm not going anywhere because I know you love me too."

"You're delusional and sad. Move on with your fucking life or you're in for a lot of disappointment."

Next thing I knew, her lips were on mine, sucking, biting, licking. Her fingers latched into my hair, pulling me closer, and my reflexes weren't fast enough at the moment to get her off. I didn't even know what was happening until it was too late.

"Come on, Justin. I know you want it." Vienna took my hand and shoved it between her legs. She wasn't wearing panties, so I felt everything.

I pushed her off of me, and she fell to the ground, snow flying out around her.

I was so shocked I didn't know how to respond. I was beyond furious. I wanted to strangle this woman and slap the ever-living shit out of her. My fists were shaking violently, so I stepped back.

I roared, "Who do you think you are?"

"I belong here," she wailed.

I kicked snow in her face, and she fell further backwards, sobbing pathetically.

I started to wipe my mouth clean. "Get her the fuck out!"

A group of security men engulfed her, and she started to scream in complaint. They held her tightly.

I turned around to go back inside, but stopped in my tracks when I saw Selena standing at the door. Her face was set in stone, her glare unfaltering.

"Selena, I didn't…" I began.

She held up her hand to stop me and started to walk down the stairs. Outside, in the snow and dim lights of the house, she looked incredibly beautiful, but that still didn't mask the fact that she was terrifyingly pissed.

"Bitch!" Vienna was shouted a slew of vulgar obscenities in Selena's direction.

Selena went right up to her. I wasn't close enough to hear the words between them, but it was obviously enough to make Vienna shake with fear… or anger. I wasn't sure which. I didn't dare walk forward. I had learned long ago that a fight between women was one not to get involved with.

Suddenly, Selena whipped her hand back and slapped Vienna across the face. It was so unexpected and forceful that I cringed slightly. The sound echoed off of the walls and left a mark on Vienna's cheek.

"Come near my family again and I'll shoot you myself." Selena's voice was uncharacteristically cold. "We've tried being nice to you, but you always come back for more. I won't put up with your shit any longer."

"I hate you," Vienna spat.

Selena began walking back over to me, her arms crossed. "I want her gone, Justin."

"She's leaving right now."

"No. I want her gone… from our lives," she clarified. "I can't have her threatening my family anymore."

The message was clear.

I nodded. "I'll handle it."

Selena bit her lip, and looked away from me for a quick second.

"I'm sorry about this." I took off my jacket, putting it over her shoulders.

"Just make sure I never I have to see that woman again." She began to walk back inside, leaving me alone to clean up the mess.

Vienna had since quieted down and kept hanging off of the security like a limp noddle. I lifted her head so that she could see me.

"I don't know what you did to make my wife so angry, but it couldn't be anything good. You're about to get everything you deserve, and I hope you rot in hell."

"You don't mean that." She slurred.

"I really do. You've taken things too far." I let her go limp again.

"What do you want us to do, sir?"

"Drop her somewhere; off a cliff, into a ravine, the lake. I don't care. Make sure she's dead and won't bother me again. Should I shoot her now or can you gentleman handle that yourselves?"

"We'll take care of it, sir." They began carrying a now sedated Vienna down the driveway.

"Good-fucking-riddance." I wiped my lips again for good measure.

Selena was sitting in one of the chairs on the porch, trying not to cry, and huddled in my jacket.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm fine. It's not a great feeling to see your husband get kissed by another woman."

"She's crazy, Selena. Don't put any stock in that."

"I'm not, but if I ever see her again, I don't know what I'll do."

"That won't be a problem. I promise you that." I sat next to her.

"She said she would kill Roman and Sophia if she ever got the chance."

I went rigid.

"She said that was the only reason you were still here; I trapped you."

"Selena, that's not true. You must know that by now." I took her hand.

"I know, but she's been saying that for a long time. I gets to me after a while."

We stayed quiet for a long minute, watching the snow fall.

"If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable like that again, please let me know. Don't try to fight them by yourself."

"I'll tell you one thing, before you even try to kiss me again, you need to go through an entire bottle of mouthwash." She smiled.

"Agreed."

Christmas morning came with a blizzard of snow. The grounds were covered in it, and I couldn't even open the door all the way. We were shut in, but it was fine since we weren't really doing anything anyway.

Francis woke us up, knowing that something exciting was happening. That was quickly followed by the babies who screamed in unison. It took us about half an hour to calm them down enough to start our morning. We dressed them in the most ridiculous red and green onesies. For once, they didn't protest.

The main tree in the family room was lit by the time we got downstairs and gifts over poured from underneath. In an effort to give Selena a break, I had sent her upstairs last night around ten and nearly locked her in our room. I did the gifts.

"Justin, you went overboard yet again." She kissed me, holding Sophia in her arms.

"I couldn't help myself." I shrugged. "Once I started with shopping, I couldn't stop. It's quite addictive."

"And you didn't want to go shopping last week."

"Everything can be done online nowadays. It's more fun that way."

"Look at all this stuff." Alec was stuck under the tree, trying to pull things out.

Carlisle and Esme had invited him to spend Christmas at their house. He declined politely. They hadn't shown up at the party, and I hadn't attempted to see them since. I spoke to Carlisle once, to invite him to Christmas dinner tonight. He gave me some bullshit "maybe" answer. He was isolating himself from me. It was his loss. I had a feeling Esme had different feelings on the subject, though. He still didn't realize I knew about his book. He would certainly be hearing about it soon.

The staff got a few days off and were all currently holed up at a ski lodge an hour away. Well, Katy Nana decided to stay. She wouldn't even entertain the idea of a vacation.

"Picture time." Selena handed me Sophia, and I sat on the couch with both babies in my arms. They were very active this morning.

"I don't think I can take any more of these photo sessions, Selena."

"Well, get used to it. We have at least eighteen more years of this." Selena began snapping. "This is only the beginning."

"Great. Do you hear that, babies? We'll have more pictures than we know what to do with." Both Sophia and Roman looked up at the sound of my voice. Their eyes were stark green, and I loved that.

The morning was more enjoyable than any Christmas I've had in recent memory. Granted, we didn't really do Christmas in Brazil, but this was still a lot of fun. I think it was different this year because I had a family and the happiness just wasn't about me anymore. Just to watch Selena and Alec go crazy over gifts was enough. I only wish that the babies were a little older so that they could enjoy the hundreds of things they received.

I got Selena everything under the sun since I never really asked her what she wanted. For over a month, I just kept collecting gifts for her. If I passed a jewelry store, I would pop my head in to take a look. Or a clothing boutique, shoe store; whatever caught my eye. Needless to say, she had boxes stacked up to the ceiling. The only thing I didn't get her this year was a new car, since there wasn't any more room in the garage.

Alec also received a hell of a lot. I was a fucking softie and spoiled him. He was a good kid, rarely drank, never touched an illegal drug, and got good grades. He was better than I was at that age and caused me little to no stress, so I didn't feel bad getting him extra shit. Plus, he stayed loyal to me when Carlisle and Esme returned. He was always on my side.

"Okay, it's your turn." Selena dragged a large wrapped box from underneath the tree.

"I told you not to get my anything," I scolded.

"That's ridiculous. You love getting gifts." She rolled her eyes.

"But not from you. I've said that for years."

"Well, I didn't spend one single cent on this."

"Really?" I set the heavy box on my lap and began to unwrap it.

"Don't make fun of me." She bit her lip.

"I would never do that. Did you make it?"

"You'll see."

I tried to be as delicate as possible so that I didn't tear anything important. I pulled the red paper off to reveal a simple shoe box. I looked at Selena with a confused expression, and she urged me to continue.

I lifted the lid to find a decent sized photo album bound in black leather. My initials were scribed in gold on the front cover.

"What is this?" I picked it carefully out of the box.

Selena shrugged, blushed, and ducked her head.

I opened it up and was shocked to see my younger self staring back at me. It was a close-up shot of Selena and me. It must have been taken right around the time when I first met her, at some family function. I looked like a fucking college kid compared to my appearance now, but there was a smile on both of our faces. There were a lot less stress wrinkles, that's for sure.

"Whoa." I brought it up closer so that I could see better. "How old is this?"

"The first time I came over your parents for dinner after church. One of your cousins had it. I've been begging family members for pictures since Thanksgiving." She turned the page.

There were a couple more of our earlier years, some of them posed and others candid. I was smiling in every fucking one, always staring Selena down with a gaze that could only be described as "loving". There must have been hundreds of pictures in there, and every page was filled. The end featured a lot with the babies and me, right after they were born mostly and other shots that I wasn't even aware of.

"You've been busy." I tried to speak clearly, but there was something in my throat. I coughed. "This is… great, wonderful. Thank you."

"I kept saying to myself that there wasn't anything I could buy you, so I might as well make it." She scooted closer to me. "Do you really like it?"

"Of course I do. I can't wait to go through all of these. Our whole history is in this book."

She breathed a sigh of relief, "Good."

"Thank you." I kissed her as much as I could with our awkward position.

"Merry Christmas." She wrapped her arms around me.

"Merry Christmas. I'm going to keep this thing forever."

She pulled away and wiped her face. "I'm being so emotional. I can't help it."

I chuckled at how cute she was. "I have one last gift for you."

"Really, Justin? I can't take much more."

"This is it, I promise." I got up from my seat and went to the closet on the other side of the room. I brought the rather large box over to the tree, trying not to jostle it too much. It was already shaking a little.

Selena's eyes shone when I sat it in front of her.

"What is it?" Alec inched forward.

"It's not yours, so it doesn't matter," I snapped.

"Fine," he huffed.

Selena lifted up the lid, and her mouth hung open slightly. She picked up the small dark brown puppy and pulled him out of the box. He was a rambunctious little thing, licking at her face and being an overly excited newborn. His fur was almost the exact same shade as Selena's hair color, which I found funny. His eyes were black and those floppy ears were his selling point. He just looked at Selena, and she melted. He had a bright red bow around his neck. Amun convinced me that was a necessity.

"Justin, you got me a dog?" she cooed.

"Yup. The same one you nearly cried over on the street."

"I don't even know what to say." She held the puppy closer. "He's so cute."

"He's been at the vet for the past week. I had to make sure the thing was clean."

I was so glad that Francis was sleeping in a different room, because I didn't know how he would react to this.

"Another dog?" Alec held out his hands, and Selena put him in them. "This is great. And he's a German Shepherd. We can teach him how to be badass."

"What do we name him?" Selena petted his head.

"Whatever you want. Just keep him away from my stuff. I don't think he's housetrained yet."

Katy Nana shuffled into the room, but backed out quickly so that no one saw her. She peeked her head around the corner and motioned for me to come over. I subtly nodded.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to go get us some eggnog."

"Okay." She nodded, barley paying attention to me anymore.

I quickly went into the hallway.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I didn't mean to interrupt the day, but I thought you might want to see this." She handed me this morning's paper.

There—amongst the holiday joy and wonderful snippets of cheer—was a small blurb about the death of Vienna Volturi. She was found at the bottom of a lake with stones in her pockets. The coroner called it an accidental suicide since her blood alcohol level was triple the legal limit, but the man who wrote the article slanted it as if she was murdered. It had been seven days exactly since I last saw her.

I didn't bother reading the thing thoroughly.

"I was wondering if we should keep this from Mrs. Selena. That might be the best thing for now," Katy Nana said.

I looked around the corner. Selena was happily making faces at Roman and Sophia. Alec was right along with her, dressing them up in their new Christmas outfits. The new dog was very nervously walking around the room, trying to sniff things out. It was picture perfect.

"I think you're right," I agreed.

This had been the best Christmas of my life, and I wasn't going to ruin it with anything. Especially not the insignificant death of Vienna Volturi.

SELENA POV

"The angel of Death brings no freedom to the wicked. In its place, pain and destruction survive."-Socrates

All things Twilight related belong to Stephanie Meyer

I sipped my coffee and sat on the sofa, watching the snow melt outside. I was more than happy to let the cold go. It was the first of March and spring was right around the corner. I was ready for some sun.

On this rare day, when the babies were sleeping, the house was quiet, and no one needed my attention, I took the time to think about everything going on in my life.

Somehow, the drama was at a minimum. Hell, it was almost nonexistent, compared to last year at this time. But I think that was because Justin and I had learned how to deal with it all better. We were really good at leaving the extra shit behind and focusing on each other.

The babies were healthy, and we were happy. That was what really mattered. Of course, there was always something going on with the family, mainly Carlisle and Esme. We had ostracized them, left them out in the cold to rot. The only thing "Bieber" about the two now was their last name. They still hadn't even seen the babies. Justin wouldn't allow it.

There was a huge fight about a month ago, something to do with a book that Carlisle was writing. It apparently had things in it that shouldn't, and Justin blew up like I've never seen before. The things he said to Carlisle were some of the most vulgar and toxic utterances I had ever heard in my life. They weren't on good terms, so neither was anyone else. Esme would try to call, but I didn't have much to say to her. She was allowing her husband to write this thing that would hurt our family, and I didn't want anything to do with it. She stopped begging to see the babies after a month or so. They stopped coming to church, they didn't talk to any of us, and Justin had all but placed a scarlet letter on their chests. I was sticking by my husband on this.

Besides that, things were good.

Roman and Sophia were growing every day. At six and a half months old, they were very advanced for their development. I almost started crying the other day when Sophia tried to crawl. She didn't make it very far, but I was terrified and overjoyed at the same time. Little Roman had a mind of his own. He rolled around like a tire. If I just set him on the floor for a minute, he would take off and try to roll away. It was exhausting keeping up with him.

They were eating pureed food now, and we stocked up on hundreds of mashed products. Thankfully, they took to it well and were both sitting in highchairs with easer. I was so proud of them, even though I was sure all mothers say that.

We had a slight health scare when Roman had a bad cough about two months ago. It was right after New Year's, and it sounded like he couldn't really breathe. We rushed him to the hospital where he stayed for some observation, but the doctor said this might be happening more often as his lungs began to grow. I got so terrified at night because I was always thinking about Roman. What if he stopped breathing? What if we couldn't get him to the hospital in time? Now I saw why mothers don't get enough sleep. It was impossible.

"Mrs. Selena!" a scream came from upstairs.

My heart stopped, and I set my coffee on the table, running out of the room. I took the stairs two at a time, worried about what might be happening.

"Where the hell are you?" I shouted.

"In your room," Agata called back.

I hurriedly opened the door and let out a frustrated sigh when I went into the closet.

"I was trying to hang up your laundry, and I found him in here. I don't know why to do. Mr. Justin is going to kill me." Agata looked like she might start crying.

Bosco, the new dog, was ripping one of Justin's shoes to pieces. And it wasn't just any shoe, either. It was one of Justin's favorites.

"Not again!" I pulled at my hair. "Bosco, stop it."

I started to rip the shoe from his mouth, but he thought I was trying to play and tugged harder. Agata helped, and we yanked with all our might, but it was no use. My grasp slipped, and I fell to the floor into a pile of freshly folded laundry.

Bosco tackled me, licking my face and slobbering all over me.

I giggled as his tongue tickled my skin. "Get off of me. You're in trouble."

While Francis was the obedient, good dog, Bosco was the opposite. He was the rowdy teenager who could be fiercely protective, but made messes that were disastrous. I kept trying to convince Justin that Bosco had a good heart, but he hated this dog with a passion. I even heard him muttering in his sleep a couple of times about how he wanted to run the poor thing over with his car.

To be fair, Bosco didn't like Justin either. They would glare at each other and have silent fights. I think Bosco just liked getting on his nerves, which he found out was fairly easy to do. The good thing was that Bosco never once snapped or bit anyone. He was always playful, and I loved him to death, but he became another item on my list of duties.

The dog was getting bigger by the day. I didn't know that German Shepherds tended to eat… a lot, and he was almost up to my knees at this point. There were huge bags of food in the storage closet downstairs, but Bosco could devour them all in no time. Even Francis couldn't keep up. Thankfully, those two got along fine. They were like best friends, but Francis knew when to back off of Justin. Bosco didn't. As a result, Francis and Justin were never separated. Whenever I wanted to find one, I just had to find the other. They were always together.

"Justin is going to throw a fit." I picked up the shoe and let the drool pour out. He licked his chops.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Selena." Agata bit her lip.

"It's not a problem," I assured her. "You did nothing wrong."

She nodded and smiled, continuing to put away the laundry.

I got up from the floor and grabbed Bosco by his red collar, dragging him out of the room. His heavy feet padded down the stairs, and I opened the back door to let him run free in the yard.

"You're in big trouble when Justin gets home," I said to him. "I can't save you this time."

He ran off to chase something in the wet grass.

Francis sat at my feet, watching Bosco. I could have sworn I saw him shake his head in shame. He tried to set an example for the young one, but it never worked.

I shut the door just as the phone began to ring. I rushed to get it, but of course Gioni beat me there. He liked to piss me off like that. I could at least answer the phone by myself, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"Bieber residence. Of course, Mr. Bieber." He handed me the phone. "It's Mr. Justin for you."

"Thank you." I took it, "Justin?"

"Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi. I didn't get a chance to see you this morning before you left."

"I know. I had to be in really early and didn't want to wake you. How has your day been?"

"Oh, you know; the usual. Babies to change, dogs to feed, staff to argue with."

"Would you like the evening off?"

"Sure."

"Come have dinner with me in the city. We can go out for a nice date."

"Really? That would actually be kind of great." I sighed. "Can I meet you in about an hour?"

"Sure. William will pick you up."

"Okay. Let me go make myself beautiful."

"Selena, you're already beautiful to me."

I swooned.

"Well…thank you." I blushed.

"You're blushing, aren't you?"

"No!"

He chuckled, "See you soon."

William dropped me off at one of Justin's favorite places. It was a tiny, private Italian restaurant with enough room for about ten small circular tables. It reminded me of a movie with soft music playing and only candle light illuminating the area. The food was incredibly fresh and homemade, which made Justin a very happy man.

He was seated in the far corner of the restaurant, reading through some emails on his phone. He put it away when he saw me approaching.

"Finally. I haven't seen you all day." He stood, kissed me, and pulled out my chair. "It's been hell."

"Really? What have you been up to?"

"I don't even really know." He chuckled, taking off his glasses to clean the lenses before putting them back on. "I'm so fucking tired, though."

"I know. You barely sleep anymore. Something's going on that you're not telling me."

"For your protection, of course."

"Of course." I sipped my water.

Justin had been very strange for the past two months. All the Bieber men had, actually. There was a huge investigation going on about the disappearance of some very high profile crime bosses. They just vanished, without a trace. One-by-one, they were falling off the face of the earth, no explanation or investigation. Justin was probably behind it. Correction, Justin was definitely behind it.

"And how are my children? Good, I hope." He grinned.

"They're feisty as ever. Roman refused to eat today so he spit peas in my hair."

"I told you he won't eat that stuff. He has to have sweet potatoes. Sophia is the one who likes peas."

"Well, I'm trying to make him sample it, at least. Peas are healthy for you."

"Gross." Justin shuddered.

"Like father like son, I guess."

"We have an appointment tomorrow to visit a pre-school downtown."

"I know. I didn't forget. I still think it's too early, though."

"It's never too early to have an education. I was talking to one of our neighbors and he has his one year old in math classes. I'll be damned if that baby gets a leg up on ours."

"But they can't even talk yet," I argued. "I'm not saying we shouldn't look into it, but we can at least wait a little longer."

"You just don't want them to leave you at home bored."

"That's ridiculous." I put my napkin in my lap, trying to hide my face from him.

"I know you too well, Selena. You can't lie to me."

"I'm plenty busy, thank you."

"By the way, your boss keeps calling me."

"I don't have a boss."

"From the TV station. He says he's trying to get in contact with you, and you're ignoring his calls."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I shrugged.

"You don't want to go back to work, do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"I just don't want to miss the babies growing up. Every day they do something amazing, and I would hate myself if I worked through it all."

"Like me?"

"No, not like you. You're home most of the time," I said regretfully. I didn't want him to feel badly. "But it's just different with me. I can't take my eyes off of them. I want to stay home for now."

"That's perfectly fine with me. I don't have a problem with it, but you've got to call the guy back. He's starting to annoy me."

I nodded. "First thing in the morning."

"Good."

Our food arrived just as my stomach was about to eat itself. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I smelled the aromas around me. Justin and I had a peaceful meal. He was in very rare spirits lately, laughing and smiling at lot.

"Oh, we had another accident at home?" I told him as we were finished up.

"What happened?" His grin faded. "Who got hurt?"

"No one, but your shoes are being destroyed."

"Which shoes? Not my brown Armani shoes."

"Sorry."

"I'm going to kill him."

"He can't help it."

"Selena, he does this on purpose," Justin grunted. "He's got to go. I hate that mutt."

"No, you don't. Bosco is just adventurous."

"Well, why can't he be adventurous with your shoes?"

"Because he loves you more." I made a half-hearted attempt to suck up.

"He does not love me. I won't allow it. He's a dirty beast that needs to stay outside."

"What if Francis started eating your stuff, would you hate him too?"

"Francis would never do such a thing. He knows better. I'm putting him in obedience training. He can't keep acting like this. Last night, I found him in the library eating a book. He was ripping apart my first edition copy of The Great Gatsby. I'm going to shoot that thing."

"I think obedience training is good enough. He'll be perfect once he goes through that."

"I hate him, and it's your fault. I can't believe I got you another dog."

"I happen to love the cutie. He's getting so big."

"Yeah, we'll see how long we keep him." Justin got up from the table and helped me with my coat.

We walked outside into the chilly night and almost got ran over by some bike messenger. He screamed his apologies, but kept on peddling.

"I hate this city," Justin griped. "I want to move."

"We can't move. You have obligations here."

"I don't care. I can do work from… a beach in Brazil, for instance."

"I don't think the family would be too keen on that."

"Who cares? I can do whatever I want," he protested.

"No, you can't. We're not moving because the babies need stability while their growing up."

William screeched to a halt on the side of the road and got out of the car to hold the door open.

"You go home. I have a couple more hours of work to do." Justin pulled me close to him.

"More work? But you've already had a fourteen hour day. It's time to rest."

"Wish I could." He rested his forehead against mine.

"Are you sure I can't convince you? There are a lot of fun things to do at home."

"Well, what did you have in mind, Mrs. Bieber?"

"Use your imagination."

"I have a dirty mind. You might not like what's inside."

"I think I'm prepared for it." I kissed him urgently, my hands traveling up his chest and into his hair.

"Selena… please don't do this," he pleaded as my lips played with his, teasing and nipping as I went.

"Do what?" I replied innocently.

"Okay, okay. I'll go, but half the world is going to be pissed that they didn't get their shipment of guns."

"Half the world can wait. Mrs. Bieber is horny." I pulled him into the car by his tie.

William took off, driving like a mad man.

"Selena, you're a temptress of the worst kind." Justin huskily spoke while kissing up my neck. "I'm highly shocked by your forward and brazen actions."

"I can't help it."

Thank God the backseat was big enough for us to lie vertically. Justin hitched my leg over his hip and pushed deep against my center.

"Oh, wow," I squeaked out.

"You are in for a very interesting night," he nearly growled into my ear.

"I can't wait."

"William, hurry the fuck up!" Justin kicked the back of his chair.

"I'm trying, sir. There's an accident up ahead."

"Damn it!" he barked. "Fine. Take the next right and drop us off at the Marshall Hotel."

"Justin, we need to go home. The babies…"

"The babies can spend one night alone." He silenced me with rough kisses.

Five minutes later, I was nearly carried into the hotel; William barely had time to open the door before Justin rushed us out. We checked in and raced into the elevators like horny teenagers after prom.

Justin had me up against the mirrored wall as we rode up. Unfortunately, a father and his two kids got on the elevator on the second floor. We were pushed into a corner, and Justin made inappropriate noises of frustration under his breath.

"Stop it," I whispered.

We rode up in silence for another ten floors before they got off, leaving us alone once again. Justin and I continued kissing for the rest of the floors.

"I have to open the door," he whispered against my lips as he fumbled with the key in the hallway.

"I'm not stopping you."

"I can't see." He chuckled, reaching behind me. The door finally clicked open, and I was forced inside.

My jacket was gone and shoes were kicked off, as I laid back into the bed.

"Selena, you are about to be defiled in every way possible." Justin quickly worked on his tie.

"I would love that." I put my hands above my head.

"Turn over." He ordered.

"What?"

"Over. Now." He got on the large bed, rolling me until I was on my stomach. He lifted my shirt so that my lower back was exposed.

Justin dipped his head, and I gasped quietly as his teeth began softly biting the flesh. He placed wet kisses on my back and began taking my shirt off as he traveled up my spine. After another minute, my shirt was gone completely, but I still had my bra on. I stayed faced down in the covers as Justin began to lick almost every part of my back, and I couldn't help the moans that went through my body from the feel of his lips on my skin. It was indescribable.

"I don't want you to move unless I say," Justin groaned hoarsely.

"Yes, sir," I replied breathlessly.

Justin's arms snaked around my body until they were underneath me. He lifted my hips slightly so he could fumble with the button on my jeans before slowly pulling them down my legs, nipping at the back of my thighs as he did.

"Am I going to have to beg again?" I asked.

"Depends on how good you are." He chuckled against my calf and took my jeans off all the way.

I hated when he did this slow and sweet thing. It really did get on my nerves. I just wanted him to fuck the brains out of me without holding anything back, but he rarely did that for fear of hurting me.

He began traveling back up my body until he reached the clasp of my bra and unhooked it with his teeth. Needless to say, I was impressed with that trick.

I heard my sighs turn into moans and I didn't know how much longer I could take this without jumping on him, but I tried. I turned my head and saw a full length mirror on the wall, showing our reflections. He didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to care, but either way, the sight of him on top of my body licking and biting was incredibly hot.

By this time, my panties were ruined from wetness, and I knew they weren't ever going to be dry again.

"Justin, you have to stop teasing me," I panted.

"I haven't even started yet," he said darkly and I knew this was going to be pure torture.

Justin kept me face down as he tantalizingly pulled my panties towards my ankles, and then flicked them into the corner.

I made the move to turn over but Justin's strong hands caught me before I could. "I told you to stay put," he said firmly.

I watched in the mirror as he began raking his heated hands up my naked body, squeezing when he reached my sensitive areas. His eyes locked in on mine in the reflection, and I didn't ever want to look away. I felt the bed move as he got off. He was back on within a couple seconds, but this time, he pushed his naked body on top of mine, and I squealed as I felt his hardness against my back.

Justin moved my hair to the side and placed wet kisses on my neck. "I want you on all fours," he growled in my ear, and I smiled happily because this was my favorite position.

He moved me slowly so that I was hovering with my weight on my elbows with my ass in the air. I watched in the mirror as Justin brought his hand between my legs and felt the groan erupt from my mouth as he slowly dragged his fingers over my slit.

"Jesus, Selena, you're so wet," he snarled.

I couldn't reply because my entire brain shut off. I was in such a state of lust that I don't think I even remembered my name.

He moved a finger so that it was inside of me, and I gasped as went deep into my body causing me to lightly shake. He added another finger after a minute of steady movement, and I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Please, Justin?" I begged, and I saw him smirk in the mirror.

He moved so that he was positioned at my entrance from behind, and then thrust deep into my body with a growl.

"Holy fuck," Justin breathed and started moving slowly so that his hips rolled into mine.

I could already feel my walls begin to clamp down, but I wasn't done yet, so I pushed back the pleasure. He continued to move within me and after a minute or two picked up the speed.

He panted as he movements got even faster; the sound of our flesh colliding sent my mind reeling. I looked in the mirror and saw how his hips rammed into mine and his hands grabbing at my ass.

The sound of slapping flesh filled the room, and our whimpers turned more guttural with each passing second.

He spread my legs wider and brought his hand down to begin rubbing the place where we connected. That was as much as I could take, because a second later, both our bodies erupted and I felt myself turn to jelly.

"Fuck." We both yelled at the same time and let the pleasure rip through our bodies.

He lied on top of me while staying connected and placed light kisses on my shoulders while I tried to catch my breath.

"That was… too good." I licked my lips.

"We're going again," he demanded, lifting me up into his arms and placing me on my back.

Four mind-numbing hours later, we collapsed against each other for the last time. I was so sore, it hurt to breathe. Justin's hands never left my body, feeling my skin and pulling me closer to him.

"This has been the best sex of my life," he admitted.

I groaned. That was the only thing I could come up with.

"Did I kill you?" Justin, seemingly happy with his sexual accomplishments for the night, laughed heartily.

"I'm so spent."

"That's what happens when your husband is an Olympic Sex Master."

"Is that what we're calling it nowadays?"

"Yes, and there's plenty more where that came from." He rolled on top of me, his tip barely enticing my entrance.

"How can you still be hard? You're a fucking machine." I laid further into the pillows.

"Genetics? Experience? Take your pick."

"It's not healthy." I pushed him off playfully. "I'm all for the multiple orgasms, but I'm going to fall apart in a minute."

"You're an amateur."

"Compared to you, everyone is."

Justin placed his hands behind his head. "I can't help that."

I pulled the sheet around my body and started to clamber over his body to get to the phone.

"Who are you calling?" he asked.

"The house. We really should tell them that we won't be home tonight." I began dialing the numbers. "And I want to wish the babies goodnight."

Justin rolled his eyes.

Gioni picked up. "Bieber residence."

"Hi, this is Selena," I said excitedly.

"Oh, Mrs. Bieber, how nice to hear from you tonight," he replied, his voice all-knowing about the inappropriate actions going on in this hotel room.

"I was just calling to see how everything is going. How are the babies? Have they been fed? Are they sleeping? Can I talk to them?"

Justin took the phone from me. "Gioni, Mrs. Bieber is having a slight meltdown. Please inform her that everything is fine before she goes into shock."

I snatched the phone back.

"All is well. Katy Nana has attended to the young ones. and they are sleeping for the night."

"Did you give Roman his inhaler? He needs it every night before bed."

"Yes, we remembered."

"Good," I sighed in relief. "And the dogs," I whispered.

"Oh, that's another matter on its own. Bosco, the little terror, has decided to sleep on the leather couch in Mr. Justin's office. His claws are scratching up the upholstery."

Justin heard the conversation and took the phone. "Get that dog out of my house! Put him in the fucking yard and tie him to a tree. We'll be back in the morning, and if that thing has ruined any more of my stuff, I'll kill him."

He slammed the receiver down with a clang. I cringed.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Selena, if I didn't love you so much, I would have that thing made into a rug."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. He's going to some kind of doggy school where they teach him manners. I won't stand for it."

I nodded. "But you have to admit this is kind of funny."

"I beg to differ." Justin sat up, swinging his legs over the bed.

I went up behind him, starting to massage his shoulders. "We can get rid of him, if you really want to."

He sighed, "No. You love that dog."

"But you hate him."

"He just needs training. I'll survive." Justin ran his hands through his hair.

"How about," I kissed his neck, "we get a couples' massage and work all this stress out of your body."

"In case you haven't noticed, the sex put me in a rather lethargic mood. A massage seems redundant." He smirked.

"Well, I want one."

"Ah, the root of the request. You want a massage."

"But it's more fun if it's for couples." I reached for the phone again and dialed the front desk.

The next morning, William pulled up in front of the house and I nearly fell out of the car.

Gioni opened the door with a smile. "Nice to have you home."

"Where are the babies?" I asked immediately.

"Still sleeping."

"Still?"

"Well, they woke up earlier and are down again."

"Damn." I really wanted to see them, but I knew not to wake sleeping babies.

"See, Selena, I told you." Justin came into the house. "Just relax."

"I don't like spending the night away from them. It doesn't feel right."

"And where have you two been?" Alec's voice bellowed. "I was up half the night until Gioni told me you were staying in the city. I've been worried sick."

"Thanks, Dad." Justin pushed past him, going into the kitchen. "We just needed grownup time. Away from kids."

"You could have called."

"We did," I said.

"Called me."

"Please. You aren't the keeper of my schedule," Justin argued.

"Well, I should be. I thought you were out doing…"

"Don't! Shut your mouth right now before you saying something you shouldn't." Justin's voice carried throughout the kitchen.

Both of their eyes shifted to mine. Once again, they were up to something and wouldn't say what. It was probably something dangerous and illegal. They knew I would kill them if it was something too bad, so it was just best for me to stay out of the loop for now.

Justin sat on a stool, and Agata handed him a glass of orange juice.

"I was still worried." Alec sat as well. "But I kept the babies entertained. They love me."

"They love everyone," I said, "Don't be too flattered."

"They're so cute."

Justin grunted some kind of reply.

"You're really not a morning person, are you?" Alec asked.

Before any of us could say anything else, we heard the loud padding of feet that could only be coming from one animal.

"Oh, God." Justin banged his head on the counter.

Bosco rounded the corner so fast that he hit the opposite wall before correcting himself and running into the kitchen. He went straight for Justin, putting his front feet on his lap.

"I told you he was in love." I petted his ears.

"I'm done being civil with him. Gioni, call a trainer! Someone from the military or animal control. This thing needs extra help."

"Yes, sir. Right away."

There was a lot going on in the kitchen, but the baby monitor was on loud so I could hear the wail of a baby. I ran up the stairs faster than I ever thought possible, part worried and part excited to see my children.

Roman and Sophia were both awake, rolling around in their crib.

"I'm here." I lifted Roman up into my arms. "I'm right here. It's okay."

He quieted down. I missed him so much last night, and I knew it was irrational, but I couldn't help it. They were my world, and when I was away from them, it hurt. Was that normal? I was a young mother, but that didn't mean I loved my children any less than if I was older.

"How was your night?" I kissed his forehead. "Were you a good little boy?"

"Katy Nana said they were perfect without us." Justin entered the room, picking up Sophia. "We have very well behaved babies."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I can't wait until they're older when they can understand us."

"I bet they can, but can't respond, obviously." I bounced Roman in my arms.

"Someone needs a change." Justin laid Sophia down. He switched out diapers like a pro, without a word of disgust or revulsion. "There. All fresh."

The next morning, I had to take the kids for a checkup at the doctor's.

It was rather uneventful. They got a few shots and the basic lookover. I was thankful that nothing was wrong with either of them, and even with his underdeveloped lungs, Roman was doing well.

After that, I had William take us over to Justin's office. I hadn't been in a while and it was nice out so I didn't want to go home yet. We got waves on our way through the lobby, and since no one had really seen the babies before, we were stopped several times. Everyone always wanted to talk to you when you had newborns.

We finally made it up to Justin's floor and Mario greeted me at the elevator.

"Hello." He waved.

"Hi."

"Security told me you were coming up." He bent down and waved at the babies in their double stroller. "Do you need water or anything?"

"No, I'm good. Is Justin around? We just wanted to come see him."

"He's in an interview right now, but he should be done in a second."

"An interview?" My eyebrows rose.

"Yeah, he's getting a new lawyer. Mr. Jenks is retiring."

"Since when?"

"Since his wife is making him. Health reasons."

"Hmm. I wonder if I could pull that off," I thought out loud. "Is he stressing over it?"

"You know he is. He hasn't eaten lunch in about a week. I don't know when he gets the chance to even breathe."

"Okay, clear his schedule for tomorrow, please." I began pushing the stroller down the hall.

"I can't do that without his permission."

"I'm giving you permission."

Jane, who was on the phone, hung up when she saw me coming and nearly bounced over to see the babies. She held Sophia close and started making all kinds of noises.

"You came to visit us today!" she exclaimed. "The day just got ten times better. Justin is riding my ass so much these days."

"I'm sorry. Has he been saying anything bad?"

"Not particularly. He's just… um, aggressive." Jane phrased herself carefully.

The door to Justin's office opened and a rather irritated man stepped out. He looked pissed as fuck and stomped over to Jane's desk.

"That man in there is a pyscho."

"I take it the interview didn't go as you would have hoped." Jane put Sophia back in the stroller.

"No. He's ridiculous."

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience…"

"Get out!" Justin bellowed from his room. "I don't want you anywhere near my office, and especially not with my wife in the vicinity."

"Go to hell!" The man angrily began marching towards the elevators.

I stood stunned for a couple of seconds. Justin's face was red and not pleased, at all. He calmed down quickly, but you could still tell that he was upset about something.

"Wow. That was interesting," I muttered.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Justin apologized. "That bastard and his fucking…"

I stopped him. "Justin, we talked about swearing in front of the babies."

He inhaled, closed his eyes, and then exhaled. He did this several times. "Today is not a good day for you to be here."

"I know. I should have called."

"It's fine. I'll just need to rearrange my schedule a little. We're supposed to be seeing schools anyway."

"No, don't do that. We just wanted to stop by for a second."

"I need a break. What about lunch, does that sound good?"

I nodded.

"Jane, can you give me a free hour, please?"

"No problem. Go eat."

Justin took the stroller from me and began pushing it towards the elevators. The babies were very excited to see him, waving their arms around and squealing.

"I had Mario clean your schedule for tomorrow. You're not going to work," I told him.

"That's ridiculous. I have things to do that can't be ignored."

"Justin, you're going to kill yourself if you keep going like this."

"It's what I have to do. I can't help it."

We rode down towards the cafeteria. It was fairly sparse today compared to the other times I came down here. Justin and I ordered light sandwiches before sitting down.

"You are going to be an eater like your Uncle Emmett," Justin said to Roman while feeding him his sweet potatoes. "He just keeps on going."

"Well, to be fair, babies are supposed to eat a lot." I stopped Sophia from grabbing her jar of peas. I was determined not to make a mess this time.

"True."

"We need to talk about something kind of important." I fed Sophia.

"And what is that?"

"Me going back on birth control."

"Oh? Is that what you want?"

"Well, I figure I need to unless you want another kid in nine months. I, for one, can't handle that right now."

"Agreed," Justin chuckled, "but it's not my decision. If you think that's what you need to do, then go ahead."

"Would… you want more kids?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"When the time is right, sure."

"How many more?"

"However many you'll give me." He was trying desperately to help Roman eat, but he kept opening up his mouth, letting the sweet potatoes fall out.

"We'll see where we are in three years." I wanted more kids, of course, but not so close together that we were completely exhausted. But then again, I didn't want them so far apart that everyone was disconnected. Three years seemed like a perfect amount of time to wait.

"Roman, stop that. You have to finish your lunch," Justin said sternly. "And now you're making a mess."

I handed him a wipe, and he began cleaning up Roman's face, which was currently splashed with all kinds of pureed food.

"He does this on purpose," Justin complained, wiping his own face free of food.

"I think it's cute."

Before we could continue the conversation any further, Jane ran into the room. She was out of breath and frantically looking around. She spotted us in the corner and came gliding over.

"They've moved your meeting up at the preschool by an hour," she wheezed. "You have to leave now."

"What?" Justin choked out. "Did they give any explanation?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Something about the headmaster going home early. I'm not sure, but you two need to get over there."

"Okay, well…. can you take care of the babies until we get back?" I asked her, gathering up my stuff.

"Yeah, they'll be fine. Mario and I can handle them."

"They've been feed and will need to be burped soon. Then they can just go down for their naps," Justin instructed, standing up.

"Everything will be fine. Go!" She pushed us forward.

Justin and I were in the car in record time, speeding off through the crowded streets with William at the wheel.

"Okay, so what do I need to know about this preschool?" I asked.

"It's in an old bank, which is interesting, and has a wonderful track record with higher education. They start early with developmental math and speech."

"Do they play with blocks and stuff?"

"Selena, this is not the kind of place where they play with blocks," he replied in disgust.

"Well, the babies need fun."

"You can have fun at home. School is for work."

Justin and I had every different ideas of education. I wanted Roman and Sophia to have the best in life, of course, but they were just babies. I didn't want them growing up too fast. Preschool and the early years were a time to just be kids.

"I'm guessing you went to this preschool?" I said, not bothering to leave the acid from my voice.

"In fact, I did," he said smugly, "and then to Catholic school after that. I don't know about you, but that's something I don't want to subject Roman and Sophia to."

"Catholic school?"

"Yes. It's the worst experience in the world."

"Sir," William rolled down the partition of the car, "we have a problem."

"Yes." He sighed.

"Um… that thing… we were discussing earlier… It's happening now."

"That thing?" Justin questioned, before it dawned on him. "Oh, shit!"

"Yes, so what would you like me to do?"

Justin pondered for a minute, muttering to himself and then snapping out of it. "Take Selena home."

"I don't think there's time, sir. I would have to drive all the way back across town."

"Damn." Justin pulled out a very large gold gun from behind him, checking the chamber. "Selena, listen to me very carefully. I need to you stay in the car and don't move a muscle, is that understood?"

"What's going on?"

"Something very important." That's all he said. I doubted I would get anything else out of him.

The car took a sharp right, and we were off onto another part of the city, our appointment at the preschool forgotten. I stayed silent on the way, just thinking about what could be going on. Justin's leg bounced, which only happened if he got nervous.

"Justin, should I be worried?" I asked quietly.

"No. Everything's fine."

We ended up at the recreational docks near the water. William parked in a secluded alley and kept the car running Seagulls cawed above, and it was fairly quiet since it was still too cold for sailboats to be out. There was a single black car waiting further down the alley.

"I'll be right back. Don't get out of the car, no matter what happens." Justin gripped my hand and squeezed. "Everything's all right. I promise."

"I don't like this," I admitted, my voice weak and questioning.

Justin kissed the side of my face and then opened the door. "Please stay here."

When he shut the door, the locks clicked with a loud, enforcing sound.

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Bieber. He knows what he's doing."

"I sure hope so." I slunk down into my seat, but still kept my line of vision.

Justin stood near the other car and stepping out, I saw Shinobu. I had only met the man a couple of times, but he had never really intimidated me like some of the other mob bosses. I didn't find him imposing at all. He was skinny and just seemed unimportant next to Justin.

They talked for a second, both of them clearly uncomfortable with the situation and trying to seem professional. Their lips moved and their heads bobbed in silent conversation. When Shinobu looked towards our car, Justin's pose changed, but then relaxed slightly.

He seemed so different compared to minutes ago when we were just having a leisurely drive. It had been a long time since I had since this side of him.

Justin made sure his gun was visible during the talk, which seemed to drag on for quite some time. When Shinobu pulled out his own gun, my breath hitched. I knew something bad was about to happen just by Justin's stance. He wasted no time, raising his firearm to Shiobu's head.

I wanted to shut my eyes, but couldn't.

Justin was forcefully yelling now, his face turning red, and I could see a prominent vein in his neck emerge. I was sure his voice was raised six decibel levels, and I was somewhat glad that I couldn't hear his rage. Shinobu either didn't care or want to waste the effort to fight him. The barrel of Justin's gun was basically pushing a hole through his head.

"What is going on?" I whispered to myself as I watched Shinobu submit to Justin, falling to his knees. He didn't look sad or scared at all, but more resigned to the fact that he was probably going to die within the next couple of seconds.

Justin took Shinobu's head roughly and pushed it forward, leaning him until his stomach was on the floor. Shinobu opened his mouth wide and placed it on the curb. It almost looked like he was trying to take a bite out of the pavement.

What happened next, I wouldn't even imagine in my worst nightmares.

Justin lifted his foot and brought it down hard on the back of Shinobu's head. I could almost hear the snap of his jaw and could his teeth shatter. It was such a simple yet violent act. I covered my mouth and jerked away from the horrible sight of blood splattered concrete.

It took me more than a minute to breathe. I just couldn't do it. I felt so sick and so terrified. I had no idea I would be attending an execution when I woke up this morning. This wasn't the first time I had seen Justin murder someone, but it was surely the most violent.

The car door opened and the smell assaulted my nose like a sickness; the Italian leather of Justin's shoe and Shinobu's blood. I kept myself on the far edge of the car, not looking at him.

"I'm going to have William take you home." Justin's voice was cold, dangerous, and unsympathetic, yet fluid and calm. The fresh kill didn't matter to him. They never did.

I tried to speak, but couldn't.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Selena." His hand rubbed mine for a quick second. "Make sure she gets back."

"Yes, sir. Of course." William nodded.

The door shut and the car engine revved as William sped away.

JUSTIN POV

"All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope."-Winston Churchill

All things Twilight related belong to Stephanie Meyer

I drove the Mercedes smoothly and steadily, letting my hands caress the steering wheel to calm my nerves. I tried to go as slow as possible, watching my surroundings pass me by. The twisted and gnarled wrought iron gates of our house were up ahead. Large C's were warped into the metal on each side, loudly announcing who lived beyond the entrances, just in case you didn't know.

The guard, who basically lived in the same spot, never moving or leaving, noticed me and the gates slowly opened. I purposefully let my foot idle over the pedal before pushing the car forward. I crept up towards the house, which stood grand and lofty, illuminated by lights on all sides. Men with guns silently crept around the grounds, patrolling and keeping my most precious items safe.

I got out of the car and didn't even bother turning it off. Someone would put it in the garage later. I was more concerned with getting inside.

With my clothes grimy and my shoes still bloody, I climbed the stairs of our elaborate stone porch and the door opened without question. Gioni was there to take my jacket, silently nodding his head in greeting.

"Where is she?" I demanded an answer with my harsh tone.

"Outside, sir."

I bit my lip as I walked through the house, letting my footsteps echo off of the walls. My heart thundered in my chest when I neared the back porch. The large, glass French doors were open, letting the warm breeze flow. It blew the drapes in a rhythmic motion that was oddly soothing.

Selena was in one of the comfortable outdoor couches, the fire pit in front of her raging with the flames lapping at the night air. Both dogs had accompanied her. Francis was curled up to her side, making soft puttering noises as he slept. Bosco's head was nestled on her lap, providing her with more comfort than I probably could at this point. A bottle of white wine was on the table near the couch, more than halfway emptied. She held a large glass in her hand.

She didn't turn when my shoes clicked on the pavement, but I knew she had heard me. The dogs both raised their heads, though they didn't move.

"Selena?" I called to her softly. She didn't answer. "Selena, please…"

Her face was stained with tears that had since dried, but it still hurt me like hell to see the red of her cheeks and the purple under her eyes. Seeing my wife cry was one of the worst pains in the world. Selena in any kind of distress was almost too much for me to bear. I hated it, and even more, I hated that this time, I had been the cause of it.

"May I sit?" I asked, my voice tentative like I was walking on glass.

"If you want." She took a sip of her wine and sniffled.

I kept to the far side of the couch, pushing myself away from Selena at all costs. I wanted to comfort her, wrap her in my arms and tell her that I was sorry, because I was. She was the only person in the world I could apologize to without feeling shamed or embarrassed, and even now, the words wouldn't come. An apology didn't seem to be good enough to right the wrong I had made her witness.

Selena didn't raise her head to look at me, but all I wanted to see was her eyes. They would tell me how much pain she was in. She ran her hand through Bosco's thick fur behind his ears. He purred at the contact, and I detested him for being so close to her and enjoying her touch.

"Selena, I never meant for you to see me like that," I began. "It was never my intention to scare you. I just wasn't thinking."

She nodded. "I understand."

That was all I got. Her tone wasn't clipped or angry. I expected more, something, anything. I needed to be yelled at and scolded like the criminal I was. Yet, she gave me nothing. It made me feel even worse.

"I told you I was a monster," I whispered. "On our first date, I warned you. I've hid it well these past years, but I slipped up tonight. I didn't want you to see that side of me."

"This isn't the first time I've seen you kill a man, Justin." She sniffled again.

"But it was always in protection. I never offensively killed anyone in front of you, and never as violently as I did just now. I am sorry for exposing you to that. I'm a monster, a sinner, " I repeated.

She didn't deny it, though I didn't expect her to.

We sat for a long while in silence, watching the cool winds whip around the trees of our expansive backyard. At some times, I think we lived on a military base with the high fences and guards and security measures. None of it made for peace and quiet, like we needed tonight.

"If you're a monster then what does that say about me?" she asked quietly. "I married you. I had children with you. Does that make me a sinner too?"

"No, Selena." I inched closer to her, but still kept some distance between us. "Don't ever say that. You're the only truly innocent part of my life. You and the kids, of course. I carry the weight of all my bad deeds. Please, don't think that way. I should have never dragged you into any of this."

She gargled out a laugh. "It's a little too late for that, Justin."

I pulled my hands through my hair, disturbing it further than it already was. I wanted to look at her before, but now I couldn't. I didn't feel worthy. I hated to feel like this because it wasn't in my nature to be so self-deprecating or regretful.

"I understand if you hate me." I shook my head in disgust.

"I don't hate you, Justin. I don't think I ever could and that's what scares me." I felt her body come closer. Feeling compressed, Bosco jumped down from the couch leaving us with little room between us.

"Scares you?"

"You don't understand how immensely you have me wrapped around your finger, and it terrifies me sometimes. I should be running for the hills, calling the police, turning you in but… that all seems wrong to me. I watched you kill a man, and I'm sitting here drinking wine like it's some garden party. What does that say about me?"

"Why are you so fucking pure?" I jumped up, suddenly angry. My voice raised several decibels. "You are the good one! Stop this nonsense."

She didn't shy away from my rage. "I know what you do is wrong, but I can't walk away. I've convinced myself that it doesn't matter."

"I've made you this way." I wanted to get on my knees and beg her for forgiveness. This wasn't right. "How could you love me after what you just saw me do?" I questioned.

"It's a sickness, Justin, and I wouldn't want it healed even I could. It's always been that way." Tears feel from her eyes and I sat down, wiping them away from my fingers. "I'm scared for myself. Charlie was right. I've changed so much and I don't think I would ever want to go back because that means I couldn't be with you. I know that sounds pathetic, but I don't care."

"No, Selena. No. You didn't have to change for me." I was trying to find a way to take this burden. "I'm so sorry."

"I even told you to kill Vienna and I felt nothing over it. I'm so screwed up in the head."

"That had nothing to do with you. You were protecting your family. It was the right thing to do."

"Really? Because it makes me a little sick thinking that I could do something so terrible."

"I gave the order Selena. It wasn't your fault."

This was when I realized that this wasn't about tonight's free kill. It was a pebble in Selena's mind compared to the boulder that rested inside her. Selena was cracking before my eyes, years of pent up emotions spilling forth in a torrent of confusion. She hated me. She loved me. She wanted and needed me, but didn't know how to accept me. She was wholesome and I was not. Our kind shouldn't mix, and yet they did. It was against nature, but I fought it for all those years, convincing myself that it would be fine.

I couldn't take any more of it and understood that I was useless at comforting her through this, so I called the only person in the world I knew who could.

"Justin, what happened?" Esme bounced up the stairs to greet me at the door. "Is everything alright? Is it the babies?"

"No, it's Selena." I bowed my head. "I don't know what to do. She saw something tonight that she shouldn't have and I think I've scared her into some kind of shock."

She pulled off her coat and handed it to me. "Where is she?"

"Out back." I pointed.

Esme took off, her feet making soft noises in the foyer.

I left them alone for half an hour. I didn't know how they felt about each other on a superficial level, but I knew that my mother loved Selena like her own daughter. She and Carlisle had been back for three months now, and we hadn't exchanged more than ten words. It was breaking our family apart, and as much as I hated my father, I realized that I needed to make a change. Maybe I could start with Esme.

After calming myself down, I went out to them.

Selena was wrapped in a blanket, her face still covered in tears. Esme was so loving with her touches, caring for her wounded child.

I sat as far away as I could, in a chair across the porch behind them, but still in hearing distance. I don't think they noticed me.

"You were so young and it's hard, I understand that." Esme patted Selena's back. "It's difficult to wrap your mind around things like this at eighteen. Even now, you're too young to be dealing with the things that you do."

"I try to stay strong. You did. Rose and Alice do. But watching him… like that, but still loving him…"

"Justin was wrong, not you. You should never have seen him in that way."

"I'm a cop's daughter and I sleep next to a man who kills people." She wiped her face. "And I'm okay with it. That's what confuses me."

"Would you ever leave him?" Esme asked seriously.

Selena raised her head, offended. "What? Of course not!"

I sent up a soundless prayer of thanks to whatever God was keeping her here.

"You're loyal and you care for him beyond belief. That's why you're still here, Selena. Our men do what they do out of tradition, honor, pride. But we stay because of love. It makes us powerless and powerful at the same time. I don't know how to explain it."

"You don't have to. I understand completely."

"That's why I never left Carlisle. I was so mad at him after I found out Justin was alive, unbelievably mad. I didn't speak to him for weeks, but I realized that leaving would do so much damage to both of us. We went away because we had to in order to save our marriage. We traveled and got to know each other again. It had been too long."

"I don't blame you for leaving when you did."

"Even after all these years, I love him to a point that I shouldn't. It's not healthy. That's what I think you're starting to understand."

"I must sound like such a wimp."

"No, Selena. I was surprised you even stayed around after you learned about us. And when you did, I knew you were the one for him."

Selena nodded, seemingly better.

Esme continued, "The love was already there, you just needed the acceptance. We convince ourselves that our husbands do good deeds when they really don't. Stop trying to trick your brain because I can tell you right now it will never work. Justin is a bad man who does bad things, but at home, with you and those babies, he's the sweetest, most caring person alive."

"You're right," Selena choked out.

"I know you've seen The Godfather, everyone has." My mother chuckled, "People think that we live our lives like that movie, but we really don't. It's not a movie. This is very, very real and I'm sorry you are hurting because of it."

"I guess I just wasn't prepared."

"Did he tell you exactly why he killed that man? Sometimes if helps if you understand the reason." Esme explained.

"Something about a hit list. Justin's…ambitious, as you know. He's getting rid of everyone who poses any kind of threat."

"He gets that from Nicola."

"He's being so irresponsible. How long does he think he can keep this up before it's his ass on the curb? What does he expect me to do then?"

"Tonight was his fault. He should have never mixed his two sides. But this wasn't the first time and it won't be the last. There will be unspeakable acts of violence that your husband will commit, and you have to know that he would never be that way with you. It's what's required of him."

"He calls himself a monster."

"They all do. But you need to support him and care for him, because he won't get it anywhere else. Justin didn't choose you so much as he needed you in his life. You calm him and make him a better person. You might not be able to see it, but I can. All my boys are stronger because of the women in their lives. It's what we do."

Selena let out a long exhale, still not noticing me behind them. She was processing all this information without a pained expression ever crossing her face.

"And… I'm sorry." Esme dropped her head.

"You're sorry?"

"For what I said to you at Nicola's funeral. I'm so incredibly sorry. I know you hate me for it but... in the heat of the moment, I was overwhelmed and shocked. You never deserved to lose that baby."

"I forgave you a long time ago, but it still hurt."

"I know it did and you don't know how many sleepless nights I endured, trying to think of a way to apologize. After being back here for all these months, I realize that I'm not half the woman you are."

"Esme, you're being ridiculous."

"No, Selena, I'm not. I thought I was a good mother, and I pride myself on having raised my boys well, but everything I've done, you've done it ten times better. This life was thrust upon you so quickly. I was born into it; it's different. You had to adapt and lead this family in my absences. Carlisle and I are so proud of you and Justin. Even if you two hate us."

"We don't hate you."

"It's okay." Esme patted Selena's knee. "I would hate me too. I abandoned my family when they needed me most, but you kept them going."

"No," she protested.

"You know what I did when we got back? I asked Alec if he wanted to live with us again." Esme's lips went up slightly into a smile. "I could tell he would say no, but I had to ask. We might have adopted him, but he thinks of you and Justin as his parents. You raised him, not me. You're an amazing mother, and an amazing wife. Our family owes so much to you because you keep Justin going."

Selena didn't reply. She knew it was true. I knew it was true. All of Chicago knew it was true. I would be nothing without that woman.

"I used to be the queen of this city, but not anymore. I'm okay with that because I've passed the crown to a wonderful person." Esme hugged Selena so tightly, I thought her eyes might pop out. Selena immediately clung to my mother, holding her close.

"Thank you," she whispered.

It was so quiet outside, that the cry of a baby from upstairs reached our ears without a problem. My first reaction was to jump up and attend to my children, but I didn't want to move from my spot. I didn't want to leave Selena.

Selena pulled away. "You still haven't seen them yet, have you?"

Esme shook her head, embarrassed. "Justin doesn't want us to. I understand."

"Would you like to now?"

I think Esme might have exploded if she could. "Really?"

Selena nodded, her eyes finding mine. "Yeah, I'm sure they would want to finally meet you."

Esme gasped in short breaths before getting up and turning to walk back into the house. When she spotted me, her face fell. She whispered to me. "Justin get your shit together. It's causing your wife pain and I won't have it. Do you understand me?"

I chuckled lowly. Even after all these months away, she was still my mother. "Yes, ma'am."

She hugged me fiercely. "We'll talk later, but thank you for calling me. It means the world."

"Go up and see the babies." I rubbed her back.

Esme nearly shot out of sight.

It took me a minute or so to get up the courage to move closer to Selena. I hesitantly sat next to her. She smiled and melted into my arms, her head resting against my chest. I nearly drowned my nose in her hair, trying to savor our closeness.

"You're not a monster," she said adamantly. "You're my husband."

"I'm both and I'm sorry for it." I kissed her forehead. "But I love you. Beyond all the blood and anger that I have for the world, I love you. Don't doubt it."

"I never have." She cuddled closer to me.

We spent the night on the porch, wrapped in the blanket while the fire kept going strong.

A week later, I was sitting in a dark corner of a Thai restaurant, trying not to gag on the atrocious and offensive smells coming from the table next to me. I hated Thai food, but this was one of Carlisle's favorite places, so I conceded. It was as much of an olive branch as he was getting at the moment.

I took large gulps of my water, swishing it around in my mouth and tapped my fingers on the table. I stupidly arrived half an hour early and didn't have anything else to do, but wait. It was torture because it left me with time to go over my main speeches that I had planned for this meeting.

With the reconciliation of Esme and Selena, I felt it was time to have a manly talk with my father. It had been too long, and if they could do it then so could I, even if that forced me to be the more mature of us. That being said, if Carlisle crossed me, I wouldn't hesitate to lay down the law. He wasn't in charge anymore, and this was my city now. He needed to understand that.

He strode across the room, smartly dressed in one of his better suits and actually greeted me with a smile. I stood and buttoned my jacket. I hated to admit it, but even though I was a man in my own right, Carlisle was the man. The fucking clouds parted for him, and he had a level of control that came with time.

We shook hands before he pulled me into an unsuspecting hug. "Justin, my boy."

Either he was purposefully oblivious of the tension in our family, or he was choosing not to acknowledge it.

"Dad, it's nice to see you as well," I ground out, trying not to be repulsed by his hands on me.

"Sit, sit. We have a lot to talk about." He unbuttoned his coat and took a seat. I did the same. "This is the first time in a long time that we've been in the same room. Last I saw you, you were kicking me off of your front step."

"Yes, well, that was under different circumstances." I suddenly felt oppressed and suffocated in this little restaurant. "Let's start with you. Where exactly have you been?"

"Everywhere," he sighed. "You mother and I, as you could have probably guessed, needed a lot of work after everything was revealed. We went on spiritual trips in Tibet and China, volunteer excursions in Israel, and a rather odd archeological dig in Venezuela. It was a lot, but we spent every day together. It saved our marriage."

"I've never seen you so… animated." I looked him up and down. He was changed.

"I can't explain it. I feel so weightless these days. I have a lot to look forward to in retirement that I didn't even consider possibilities before."

"Yeah, that happens when you leave your son to do your dirty work."

Carlisle nodded. "You're angry with me."

"Is that a question?"

"No, it was a declarative statement."

"Hell yes, I'm mad at you!"

"Justin, watch your tone," he said seriously. "I never meant to leave you in a lurch. I thought you could handle things. I set everything up so that there would be as little problems as possible."

"It's not even that you left. I was expecting that, but to not leave any contact information? That's what pissed me off. Do you know how often I wanted to call you and just pick your brain? I made a mess of things for a while because of my stupidity…"

He interrupted me, "Oh, I know. Justin, why did you think I left you behind with no way of contacting me? Because it made you a better man; that's why. A better leader. If I was on your ass every five minutes, you would have ruled this city like I did. That's not what our family needed. You needed to make your mark."

Damn him for always being right.

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I rolled my eyes.

"It wasn't meant to. I never meant to leave to make you feel bad. Emmett could contact me if need be. If things ever got too bad. But you handled yourself well. I'm very proud of you."

"Well… thank you," I said strangely.

"And I am sorry for any troubles I caused." He really did seem regretful.

We stayed silent for a few minutes.

"I know you're still mad at me, but I am your father and I miss my family," Carlisle sighed. "Can you forgive me?"

"No," I snapped, "I don't forgive easily."

"Your grandfather taught you that."

"Fortunately for you, my wife is far more accommodating."

"Thank God or you wouldn't be here," he shot back. "Selena is one of the most courageous women I know and to put up with our shit… She's strong."

"That she is."

"I heard you had an incident last week. How is that going?"

"It's none of your concern." I shut him down once again.

Selena had bounced back extremely well. I had shown her a side of me that was too frightening, but she was handling it in her own way. She was hesitant, of course, although she hid it well. Selena was built for this life and told me as such. She just said it was shocking for her to see me in that way. I couldn't blame her.

"I understand," my father said. "It will take time to rebuild our relationship, but I'm glad we're meeting. That's the first step. A monk in Mongolia told me…"

I tuned him out because I was in no mode to hear his philosophical teachings of wisdom. I was over it for the night. We didn't discuss "the book" because he already knew how I felt about it. The thing was obscene and supposedly a history of our family. Anyone could read our dirty secrets and pick us apart. What if they made it into a movie? No one would be able to stomach that shit on screen. That thing would never be published as long as I was alive and Carlisle wouldn't dare try.

Awhile later, we moved onto more pressing matters.

"I see you haven't appointed a Consigliore." Carlisle said casually, even though his statement was anything but.

Consigliore: my right hand man, confidante, main advisor…

"I didn't think one was necessary."

"Oh? You plan on running our entire mafia operations by yourself?" He chuckled to himself.

"I have brothers. It's different if I was alone. They help out more than any one person could."

"Yes, but they need a chain of command."

"Maybe that's how you ran things, but I don't."

"But you should." He leaned in, "I'm trying to help, Justin. Please don't shut me out right now. I want you to succeed and you need help."

I thought for a long minute. He was right, but this was a decision I couldn't afford to make a wrong move with.

"I could…talk to Alec about it." I said quietly.

"I thought you would say that." Carlisle replied, not giving me any of his opinions or views.

Surprisingly, I found that I wanted to hear them.

Half an hour later, I wrapped up dinner. I couldn't take much more. My father paid and I stood outside, smoking, waiting for my car to be brought around by a valet.

"Justin, what are you up to tonight?" Carlisle asked me.

"Just some family business."

"Really?" His interest was piqued.

I bit my tongue for a second, choosing my words carefully. "It's a… planned execution, type thing."

"Sounds wonderful. Mind if I tag along?"

I suppressed my groan, but didn't answer. I really just wanted to get away from him right now. Too much Carlisle in such a short amount of time was not healthy.

"Come on," he nudged my shoulder, "give your old dad some fun."

"Fine," I growled.

Someone brought my Mercedes around, and I dropped a tip into his hand as he held the door open for me. I sunk into the seat, Carlisle getting in as well. I took off, faster than usual, but I had places to be.

"Justin, why are you speeding?" My father asked as I took sharp turns and evaded traffic. "Goodness, I know I taught you better than this."

"I've always driven this way. I like speed."

"Well, slow down. You're going to hurt someone."

"You can't tell me how to drive." I got defensive. "I'm a thirty year old man. I can drive how I want."

"This is ridiculous." Carlisle's face blanched. I was getting an odd sense of satisfaction watching him squirm. He was never one for fast cars. He was always more into just looking at them.

"Just sit back and stop worrying." I pushed the vehicle faster.

We reached our destination quickly, and I let up on the pedal as I reached the gates of a regular storage facility. It had rows upon rows of storage units that people could rent out to dump their stuff. It was all forgotten over the years, but as long as the monthly bill was paid, no questions were asked.

I put in the simple six digit code—my birthday—to enter the gates and drove quietly through the deserted alleyways.

"So, what exactly are we doing here?" Carlisle asked me.

"I have someone that needs to be disposed of," I answered simply.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that hit list I keep hearing about, would it?"

"Who told you?" I swerved slightly.

"Alec."

"Of course," I grumbled.

"I think the idea is wonderful, if not overzealous and completely obsessive, but it should work well for you. You're insane enough to actually take everyone out before they catch you."

"I'm almost done. Just a few more names to go."

"You've always been extraordinarily gifted when it comes to this kind of thing."

I stopped in front of one of the smaller units. It was at the end of a row on the corner and pretty much the most secluded one I could rent. I shut the car off and got out with Carlisle following me to the door. The lock was simple and easily breakable, but if anyone wanted to rob me, they would be in for quite a shock once they opened it up.

The lock fell from the latch, and I lifted the door above my head.

There wasn't a light in the container, but the moon was bright enough to see inside.

The smell hit me first. It was putrid and rancid, all wrapped in a reek of overbearing filth. A man with pale skin and shaggy dark hair was resting in a wooden chair. Silver duct tape covered his mouth and his body was sunken in, the wasteful product of malnutrition and dehydration. He was naked and sitting in his own stench. I think this was day thirty of his imprisonment.

"Well, well, a Mangicavalo." Carlisle walked closer. "Impressive."

"The youngest son, Adriano. The father and oldest two are already dead. Everyone thinks they went back to Italy."

The man tried to raise his head, but didn't have enough strength to hold it up. His eyes were red, puffy, and jaundiced. He looked rather disgusting.

"He needs to be gone tonight." I shut the door behind me, enveloping us in darkness. The smell intensified. I took a handkerchief from my pocket, covering my mouth and nose, trying to dilute the odor a little.

I used the light from my cellphone to illuminate the area.

Carlisle was staring at him, inspecting his face and smirking superiorly. "I like this one. He's feisty."

"He's exhausted. He wants to die." I kicked the chair over. Adriano fell to the floor, his hands and feet bound, sloshing around in his own filth.

I withdrew my gun, prepared to kill, but Carlisle stopped me. "May I?"

"Oh, sure." I hesitantly pulled away. "If you'd like."

Withdrawing an even bigger gun, Carlisle hunched low over his victim.

It had been awhile since I'd seen my father in action and a familiar, cold tingle ran over my body. This man could make you bow with just one look. It was such a contrast, seeing him like this, compared to an hour ago when we were discussing the weather over grilled chicken eggrolls and spicy shrimp soup. He could turn his ruthlessness on and off like a light switch; a talent I had yet to master.

Carlisle ripped the tape from Adriano's mouth, taking along with it flakes of dried skin and blood. The area around his lips was raw with redness and irritation. Adriano was fed once every other day and kept in this storage unit for a month, for no other reason than for me to gain some sick pleasure from extracting every ounce of humanity left from him.

He writhed and yelled obscenities to the high heavens, begging for someone to hear him, pleading for a savior.

Carlisle shoved the barrel of his High Standard 22LR pistol sound suppressor deep into Adriano's mouth. He gaged and choked, but Carlisle pushed deeper, effectively gagging the man.

His kill was silent and excruciatingly gory. The shot was muffled and sounded like a soft thump into a pillow, but the bloody scene was far from relaxing. The back half of Adriano's head shot off and left a giant cavity. Brain matter, blood, muscle tissue and bone flew in different directions, coating the walls like a sadistic Jackson Pollack painting. It was oddly… beautiful.

I admired my father's handiwork as I swept my cellphone across the scene, letting the light travel into every nook and cranny.

"Simple and easy, like it was back in my day." Carlisle stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.

And that was that. Another member of my hit list down for the count.

The dogs followed me as I bound up the stairs, their clawed feet making noises on the hardwood as they raced me. I began pulling off bloody and soiled clothes as I went further down the hall, but I stayed quiet since the house was dark and silent.

The lights in my room were off, so I crept to the bathroom and jumped into a hot shower, cleansing my body from the filthy killing of the night. The scalding water beat on my skin and turned my flesh red. The steam enveloped the bathroom, almost suffocating me, but I welcomed it.

I got out of the shower and dried off minimally, shaking the water from my hair was I walked back into the room. I pulled on boxers and nothing else.

Selena was softly sleeping in bed, and the moon, which once brightened such a graphic, horrible scene earlier in the night, shone on her. I couldn't think of a better vision to come home to.

Selena liked to sleep in slouchy clothes; things of mine that she could move around in, but tonight, I was treated to something different. She was in some kind of black, lace lingerie. She was lying face down, the sheets of the bed wrapped around her legs, and since it was a rather warm night, she didn't find the need for a blanket, thank God.

The panties were sheer and skimpy, covering just enough of her perfect ass to entice, but still keep me guessing. The top was tight, fitted and lacey as well. It had straps that were falling from her shoulders, and a sliver of skin around her midriff was driving me insane.

I bit on my knuckles to quiet my lascivious and wanton noises.

I started at her calves, kissing and savoring each inch of silken flesh. She stirred slightly and moaned my name.

"Is that you?" she asked.

"No, it's some other man, sneaking into your bed at night." I continued up higher, to her thighs.

"Oh, well don't tell my husband." She giggled as my breath created gooseflesh on her body. "He can be an animal when he's jealous."

I growled.

Since the pregnancy, Selena had naturally gained some weight. I had convinced her not to lose it all, even though she was determined to get back to normal. She was naturally skinny and probably always would be, but she carried the few extra pounds nicely. I liked it a lot better that way. She was firm in all the right places and voluptuous in others. So tantalizing.

"I was waiting up for you. Sorry I fell asleep." Selena came alive, but didn't turn over. Pressing herself deeper into our mattress.

"This is such a nice surprise." I reached her ass, biting softly.

"I take it you like the clothes I bought today." Selena gasped with surprise as I smacked her cheek, causing a red mark.

"Why do you wear such things? You know I'm just going to rip them away from your body. They are a waste of money."

"Completely pointless?"

"I didn't say that."

"I thought it might be nice for a change."

"To tempt me further into wanting you? I thought it was impossible, but you keep surprising me."

"Maybe," she sighed, rolling over and opening her legs so that my head fit between them.

I kissed her inner thighs. My feather-light tough, making her wriggle and fidget above me. She bit her lip, running her hands through my wet hair and tugging, pulling me higher until I reached her lace covered center.

"You smell… so good," I rumbled through my chest.

This had the making of such a great night, but unfortunately, the babies had other plans.

"Damn," I nearly cried my own tears when I heard the wail from down the hall.

"One of them probably just needs a change." Selena sat up quickly.

The mood had passed, and I watched her jump out of bed, the lingerie forgotten as she put on a damned robe before running out of the room.

That night, after the babies had been settled, our lovemaking was slow and tender. I worshiped Selena's body until I had no more to give. When we were done, she tried to put on a shirt, but I wouldn't allow it. I pulled her close to my body, feeling her naked skin against mine, and let her sleep against me.

I couldn't shut my eyes and decided to forgo resting. I didn't even try. My brain just didn't want to shut down.

Sometime around four in the morning, I rolled out of bed, disentangling myself from Selena, and paced around the room for a bit. I was antsy, and for no particular reason other than the fact that I needed to move around. I didn't feel settled. I decided to do something productive.

I pulled the double doors of our closet open and looked around, thinking about re-organizing my ties. This was a process that would take me at least a couple of hours since I had so many. Once I was inside, though, I was shocked. It had been too long since I actually looked at our closet.

"This place is a mess," I said to myself.

I began with my half of the closet, pulling everything off of the racks, shelves, and hangers. I refolded hundreds of undershirts and re-balled socks, dress and casual, alike. I spent an hour polishing my shoes with an old rag. That took up the bulk of my time since my shoe collection was…extensive, to say the least.

I redid all the drawers, switching certain sections around. I had never liked my workout clothes in the bottom drawers, but Katy Nana insisted on it. I finally placed them on a top shelf where I could see them better. I then moved on to my suits, which I packaged up to be sent away for dry cleaning. All of them.

Most of the brands were Armani and Calvin Klein, the makings of a well-dressed man. I had tried out different things at some point, but didn't particularly like the fit or the colors or the fabrics. It was best to stick with what I knew.

Once I was done, sometime around seven, my side of the closet was spotless. I was very impressed with my work until I turned around and my face fell as I looked at Selena's mishap of clothes.

I nodded in determination as I got back to work.

By this time, the dogs were up and lying on the floor to watch me. It was a wonder what one week in dog training could do; Bosco actually listened to me when I told him to sit in the corner while I rearranged Selena's shoes. He wanted to bite the hell out of them. I could tell. But he stayed restrained.

Selena had more clothes than I did. I don't know how that happened, but her shelves were overflowing. The problem was that Selena didn't believe in organizing. She would hang things up wherever she was at the moment. I had to fix that. I pulled everything down, replacing it as I saw fit. She had hundreds of dresses that I sorted by color. I moved onto her shoes, categorized by heel height, and then alphabetically.

Armani, Burberry, Chanel, Christian Louboutin, Dona Karen, Jimmy Choo…

She had flats, boots, sneakers, and sandals, which I kept on the bottom rack of the closet. It always amused me when Selena wore anything with a heel. Not only was she so damned sexy in them, but she stayed upright, which was something I would have never seen five years ago.

Then came the handbags and purses, once again, done alphabetically.

Alexander McQueen, Bottega Veneta, Diane Von Furstenburg, Fendi, Gucci, Hermes…

I chuckled to myself, just thinking about exactly how much I had spent on her wardrobe in the past year or so. I probably didn't want to know.

I was on my hands and knees, going through her sleeping wear when I came across a simple blue and red plaid shirt. I held it in my hands, feeling the scratchy fabric. I remembered this shirt.

When I first met Selena, she used to always dress in plaid, a product of her Northwestern upbringing. They would always be too big on her, but she didn't care. It was endearing and confusing at the same time. Back then, I didn't understand it. Why would I ever be attracted to a girl who thought that plaid was a fashion statement? But Selena was different. Her fabric was abrasive, mine was soft. She had clothing that was outdated since 1980, mine was overly fashionable. She was plaid; I was silk. We should have never mixed, and somehow we did. But even then, I knew she was "the one". I couldn't help myself.

These thoughts seemed redundant to me since they had been rolling through my head since last week. I had tried to warn her to stay away, but she latched onto me and promised to never let go. That's why I loved her so much and always would.

"You're starting to sound crazy." I shook my head.

I stood up and decided to keep the plaid for myself. I neatly folded it and placed the shirt in one of my drawers, secretly hidden under a stack of freshly pressed light blue underwear.

"Justin, what are you doing?" Selena stumbled into the closet. Her sex hair was so glorious in the morning and she was pulling on the same lingerie that I swore I shredded last night, but somehow survived.

"I'm spring cleaning," I answered, making sure to shut the drawer with her plaid shirt in it. She wasn't getting that back.

Selena looked around, her face filled with confusion. "What happened to all of my clothes?"

"I organized them. Don't you like it?"

"Sure." Her brow furrowed as she ran her hands along her coats and jackets.

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get this done while I had the energy," I explained.

The dogs ran to Selena, licking at her legs. She pet them eagerly. "Well, that's good, I guess. I hope you weren't up all night with this."

"No, not at all. It was rather quick, actually."

She tripped over a pile on the floor. "Justin, what are my dresses doing down here." She picked one up.

"That's the stuff I'm throwing out."

"Throwing out?" Her voice went up an octave.

"Yes," I answered with finality. "Those dressed are too short for you. You can't wear that stuff."

"Says who? And they are not too short."

"That thing barely covers your ass," I argued.

"You're exaggerating. I'm not throwing any of them out. I happen to like these dresses. They're for summer BBQs and girl's night out." She started to hastily pick them up.

"Selena, I'm not fighting you on this. Leave them on the floor so Katy Nana came get rid of them."

"You never seemed to have a problem before with my dresses. As I recall, you like my legs."

"Don't patronize me. Your legs are for me. Not everyone else." I wrapped her in my arms.

"They aren't that short, Justin." She sighed. "Can we compromise?"

"No," I said immediately then amended my answer when she glared at me. "Maybe."

We agreed on throwing out all dresses that didn't come to at least three inches above the knee, but I think she tricked me because Selena only had about two of those. I measured. I ground my teeth together as I watched her hang them back up, just thinking about all the filthy men I would have to fight when we walked down the street or when she would visit me at my office.

"I still don't like this." I stood against the opposite wall and crossed my arms.

"You'll be fine." She rose on her toes to kiss me. "Come help me with the babies."

We left the closet, my mind finally free from clothing, and went to the nursery. It had been repainted recently, a six-month birthday gift to the babies. The pastel colors had been covered over with fantastic scenes from Mother Goose stories. I didn't know any of them personally, but they looked kind of calming and playful.

Roman was up and giggling when I picked him up.

"Hey, buddy." I bounced him in my arms. "You look so happy today. What's going on?"

He reached for my face, patting my checks with his chubby hands.

"He recognizes you." Selena lifted up Sophia.

"Of course he does."

As I looked at the picture before me, I never thought I would get to a place like this. I had a wife, two kids, dogs, and a stable life. And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't have it any other way. What the hell happened to me?

I chuckled to myself, kissing the top of Roman's head.

"What's wrong?" Selena asked me.

"Absolutely nothing."