#<- yeah! I like adding things you don’t expect to a character!

[thrpr0phetuseek]

[*she smiled as the tune hummed and swept around the isle; lost in thought, they began to play with his hair, rubbing his back as they held the familiar note*]

[*gently, she held him as though he were the most precious thing to enter their afterlife; that realization had hit far too many times with doubt and loss, but in this moment, they felt their worries be put to rest*]

“If you want to talk at all—not that you have to—just let me know. I’m here for you Ody. Don’t you ever forget that.”

[*and once again did they press a tender kiss on his head, unaware of the warmth as at times they couldn’t feel*]

"Guess who?" A familiar voice calls in a sing-song tone from the river, echoing through.

Odysseus uses the echo to swim to the edge of the water without being heard and reach a hand out to gently scritch up Tiresias spine in an attempt to tickle them.

[*the prophet yelps in surprise, quickly whipping around and bonking the invading hand with his staff*]

[*upon recognizing the voice, however, he softens and lowers his staff, shifting and leaning down towards where the hand had reached from*]

“My dear friend, love, what was that for? You have no reason to reach under my cloak, and if you wanted my attention or to speak, your beckoning voice was enough. Besides, surely you’re mature enough to see no use in tickle attacks.”

[runecatwrites]

Let’s talk about Warriors and Wild

This was another “weird” pairing that came out of the latest update.

You’d think that the two with no dungeon experience should each be paired with someone more experienced, right? Well, Warriors isn’t really thinking about that. He has a different motive for choosing Wild to team up with, and no, it’s not because he’s “mad” at him. The reason actually reveals a lot about both of their characters, and displays a great deal of character growth on Warriors' part specifically.

Deep dive under the cut!

Okay first off, let’s get something out of the way. Just because Warriors and Wild have no traditional dungeon experience, that doesn’t make them ill-equipped. Warriors has tons of combat experience and is demonstrably very intelligent. And Wild? Sure he didn’t have traditional dungeons in BotW, but you know what he did have? Puzzles. A TON of puzzles. That guy can do puzzles in his sleep. I highly doubt that he’s gonna have trouble with dungeon puzzles once he figures out how to approach them (which won’t take long).

All right, now that we have that cleared up, moving on!

From the very beginning, Wars holds great respect for Wild:

Because at the start of the adventure, Warriors doesn't realize just how different he is from the others. He gets put with a bunch of guys who share his name and his spirit, so of course he thinks his experience isn’t unique. They’re all just like him, right?

Okay, uh, maybe not? But they still can’t be that different, Warriors thinks. Sky is also a knight, and he acts exactly the way Warriors expects a knight to act.

He catches onto plans immediately:

And follows through flawlessly:

It’s not about authority and Sky’s ability to follow orders. It’s about the fact that Sky is on the same page. He went to military school. He has extensive training. He knows what to do and when, with barely any prompting, because he’s been taught to think the same way Warriors thinks. Warriors and Sky work together perfectly because of this:

But with Wild? Warriors is expecting the exact same thing with Wild, a fellow knight, but what he gets from the Champion is far from what he gets with Sky. This is very unexpected for Warriors. He gives what he thinks is a clear directive:

“Clear out the rest” to Warriors and Sky means “get rid of all the little guys so we can focus on the big guy.” Solid strategy. But Wild does not interpret this the same way, because he does not remember his military training and therefore any of the strategy he was taught. “Clear out the rest” just means get rid of everyone to him. And he decides to eliminate the biggest threat first. It’s important to note here that he’s not “defying orders” because his emotions are getting the better of him, or even because he thinks he shouldn't have been given orders. The way he sees it, he is following orders. Warriors said “clear out the rest.” And that’s what Wild’s helping to do. But then afterwards? Warriors is angry!

The plan? What plan? There was no plan! The goal was just to get rid of everyone! Why does it matter if Wild took out the big guy before the little guys?

It’s at this point that Wild realizes he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. (Any other neurodivergent folks here? If so, yeah, you know how this feels. I know I do.)

It’s clear through subsequent interactions that Wild genuinely does not understand what the problem is:

He thought he made the right move, but others don’t seem to think so. He’s already emotional, and this is just adding more fuel to the fire. He snaps, starts a fight with Four, and runs off still feeling confused.

Meanwhile, Warriors is also confused. Why didn’t Wild act the way Warriors thought he would? He’s a knight, right? Why did he do what he did, and how did he not understand that his choice of strategy was incorrect after?

And it’s not just Wild that Warriors failed to read correctly; the others are clashing with him too. Case in point, Twilight’s refusal to hang back after being injured:

In the aftermath of the battle, it’s at this point that Warriors makes a realization: he’s the one who made a mistake. He had preconceived expectations of people, and that ended up majorly backfiring on him.

Warriors knows that he can't be a good teammate - and a good leader - if he doesn't understand where his companions are coming from. Again, it's not about authority, it's about being on the same page. Ever since, he has been trying to seek better understanding. Maybe Wild doesn't feel comfortable taking orders from Warriors, and only listens to those he knows well?

But Twilight said, "No he doesn't." Huh. Okay. Well, maybe Warriors can try to get inside Wild's head? Let's try some bantering! These guys love to banter!

Oops. Fumble. That didn't go well. But hey, at least Wild seems to have figured out what he did wrong!

That's a step in the right direction! Okay, they're getting somewhere, Warriors thinks.

But Wild is really down on himself. He now realizes that he misinterpreted a directive that he should have understood. And thinks that Warriors thinks he's stupid, and hates him. (Again, where my neurodivergent peeps at? Yeah. That feeling.)

Meanwhile, things are becoming clearer to Warriors. Not only does he realize that he shouldn't have viewed his teammates through his own preconceived notions, but for the first time, he also realizes just how different his experience was from everyone else's:

He realizes he's got a LOT of learning to do. His discordance with Wild is proof of that. But Wild has never been in a dungeon either. Maybe this is their chance to connect? Warriors tries once again to get inside Wild's head. Maybe he can try to understand why Wild isn't approaching this dungeon the way Warriors would:

Aaaaand Wild froze up. Dang it. Warriors isn't getting anything. He really needs to figure out what's going wrong here so they can work together. It's for both of their benefit, and the group's benefit as a whole. They need to get on the same page so that they can not only fight together, but be good friends to each other. And when the opportunity arises to team up one-on-one, Warriors jumps at it! This is the perfect opportunity, he thinks!

But right now? Wild doesn't realize that. He thinks that Warriors is mad at him. Warriors is NOT mad at him. Warriors is trying to learn, to better himself, and to forge a connection.

And I believe that even though it's been a bumpy road, we're going to see some amazing growth between Warriors and Wild in the future.

[coco-loco-nut]

007

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meeting your soulmate in the paddock isn’t unusual for F1 drivers, but oscar’s certainly leans on the unusual side

a/n: sorry if it’s a bit of the mess! i’ve been trying to write my way out of writers block

masterlist part two requests open

_____________

You are crazy, you have to be. At least, that’s what Oscar thought when he watched the mark on his arm change for the third time that day. You put yourself in more danger than he does, and that says a lot. It wasn’t always that way, not until five years ago when it became more and more frequent. The shared talent he gets from you is no help. Analytical and multilingual, you could be anyone. Based on how often you are in danger for long stretches, he is a little sure that you are a mobster. Being able to speak Russian and Italian fluently doesn’t help with the whole mobster thing.

You didn’t know what to think of your soulmate. At first you assumed he was a criminal, the meter on your arm only shifting to danger for a relatively short period of time for a few weeks. However, it has become regular, throwing you off. Maybe a weekend adrenaline junkie? No, probably organized crime. Besides, you are skilled at driving fast, and what adrenaline junkie has a talent for fast driving.

“We have intel that there will be a deal made at the Belgian Grand Prix. Both parties are guests of Sauber as to not draw suspicion. Everything you will need is in this file, a car will pick you up tonight, good luck,” you anxiously sit through your briefing.

You have been tracking a crime ring for the past year and a half, putting yourself in all kinds of compromising positions just to get information. Formula One though, that’s new to you. You have seen some things from former partners who followed it, but you weren’t interested.

It isn’t uncommon for crime groups to use large events for “networking.” It is under the guise of their shell companies. You studied your character ruthlessly, knowing your cover inside and out.

The race approached much quicker than you’d like. The situation isn’t helped by a weird feeling in your stomach. Not nerves, but something else. You shake it off, the mission is what is important. The paddock awaits, and you have a limited striking time.

Oscar was on edge. Something felt off, even though he went through his race routine like always. He did have a questionable pastry, but there wasn’t any mold, so it was okay. He slides his sleeve up, looking at the meter on his arm. Lando doesn’t miss how his teammate’s face paled.

“You okay?” Lando asks, trying to catch a glimpse of the meter on Oscar’s arm.

“Yeah, just realized I forgot to call my sister,” Oscar lies. He’s a little scared for the day he meets you. What kind of mobster commits crime on a Sunday? Maybe you got taken by an enemy, got caught sneaking around. Logan always told him that he was crazy for assuming his soulmate is a criminal, but all signs point to it. Some fresh air is what he needs.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” your target says as you flash a charming smile, anything to get information. It helps that the conversation is in Russian, adding to confidentiality of everything.

You feel a deep pull, like a yearning, as you agree to the walk. You brush it off, the mission is top priority.

“Can you provide some more benefits of the… investment,” you are a little unsure of what to call it. You are keenly aware of the weapons strapped to the side of your target. You weren’t expecting to be meeting with an enforcer, making the job trickier.

“Perhaps. I will if you can answer this question,” you feel your anxiety spike as you keep a calm and cool demeanor. The pull increases and it takes every ounce of will to keep yourself focused. You got most of the information you need, but you need to fish for more. You don’t really notice the target turning you into a quieter part of the paddock.

Oscar lets his feet lead the way, a little out of it. He doesn’t really notice you ahead, tucked in a relatively secluded alley of the paddock. He’s always been able to sneak around, a blessing in times like this.

“Who invited you to the meeting,” he asks, and you internally breathe a sigh of relief. Your team scanned through the information to make sure there was nothing included to trip you up, and this is something that was deemed clear.

“Peter,” you say a little too confidently, and that’s when you notice him reach for the knife on his side. You also notice the civilian looking at his soulmate meter rather than where he is walking, and at that moment it spikes further into the danger. The brief distraction is enough to put you at a disadvantage. You shove the stranger behind you, getting him out of the way as you. Sparks fly as you touch him, but you don’t pay any mind to it. Eyes trained on the target, you do everything you can to avoid being stabbed as you pull out your own knife.

Oscar feels a twinge on his arm and slides up the sleeve, looking at his mark. He feels himself get yanked, and he turns his attention to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He takes a few steps back into safety and watches. Every alarm bell in his mind tells him to run away, but he can’t seem to walk away.

You kick the knife away, quickly working to disarm the target and press him against a wall, your own knife to his throat. You subtly activate your tracker, getting discreet backup.

“Tell me who runs the operation. Now.” you snarl in Russian, slightly putting pressure on his neck with the knife. The target spits beside you, you press further. “I recommend you don’t mess with me if you want to be alive.”

The information you want comes flowing out as you take a little pleasure at the fear in his eyes.

“There, happy? Let me go,” the target says and you smile wickedly. Dropping your act now would only hurt you, so you let him think you are part of a rival crime ring.

“Not quite,” you flip him around so he is facing the wall. You sheathe the knife, using your weight to brace him to the wall. “It’s a shame I couldn’t spill some blood, oh well,” you play your role, speaking in a bored yet maniacal tone. Your backup arrives and takes over for you, arresting the target.

As the adrenaline fades, you remember the guy lurking behind you. You feel the heat of anger flare up. Couldn’t he see you were dealing with something dangerous? Why wouldn’t he turn around and walk away.

Oscar can’t help but feel happy that he finally has your attention, and if the pull he feels and the danger levels that his arm displays is any indication, he just met his soulmate. Plus, you speak multiple languages, who else would he get that from that’s in the immediate vicinity. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Are you stupid! What are you doing walking in on that? And sticking around? That was a very dangerous situation, you know,” you fume, not looking at him, too busy firing off angry texts to your commander.

“I was right, my soulmate is a criminal,” Oscar says, a little shocked.

“That guy was your soulmate? Tough luck,” you can’t help but laugh a little. You look at him for the first time and feel your heart beat quicken as every instinct is drawn to him.

“No, you are,” Oscar says as your eyebrow quirks, as if you don’t believe him. And you don’t believe him, it isn’t in your nature.

“Well, I’m not a criminal. Sorry to break it to you. Besides, I know that my soulmate is a criminal, so unless you have a dark side, you aren’t him,” you brush it off, still ignoring the intense pull towards the brunette who is creeping closer to you.

“But-“

“Look, I gotta go,” you quickly take a once over of him, ready to look him up when you are back to safety. You disappear almost into thin air, leaving Oscar confused.

“Oscar? What are you doing here? Is that blood?” Logan stares at his friend.

“I think I just met my soulmate,” Oscar says, a little flabbergasted. Now he knows where his talent for being stealthy comes from. He wonders if you got his driving ability.

“Right. That doesn’t explain blood. You know what, you need to get ready for the drivers parade,” Logan shakes his head, helping his friend get back on track.

Oscar Piastri. That’s who Google tells you that you encountered. He’s handsome, you will admit that. A quick research tells you everything you need. Your soulmate, in fact, was not a criminal. A minor win in your mind.

After your paperwork and evidence submission, you know you can’t return to Sauber, so you choose to walk around instead. A change of clothes and hairstyles helps to hide your identity.

You easily slip into the McLaren motorhome, it is a little sad how easily you have gotten past Formula One’s security. You wait in Oscar’s drivers room for him, feeling uncomfortable and nervous. You don’t like the feeling.

Your job is too dangerous for a soulmate, you’ve seen how devastating it is for those whose soulmate never returns from a mission. You couldn’t do that to someone, so why do you find yourself needing to see Oscar again.

Oscar feels the now familiar tug as he gets out of his car, and he’s never been happier to get P4. He makes his way to his room as quickly as possible, rush in through his post-race procedures.

“You’re here. How are you here?” Oscar sees you leaning against the wall of his drivers room.

“It is embarrassing how easily I can get past the security here,” you have a hint of a smile on your face.

“So, if you aren’t a criminal, who are you?” Oscar swallows, a little nervous. His only knowledge of you is that you are highly dangerous and semifrequently in danger.

“I can’t tell you that. Brilliant race today, maybe I will actually watch one for once,” you walk towards him, and he feels his heart leap in his chest. You slip a card into his hand as you head to the door. “Oh, and thanks for the driving skills. It’s gotten me out of quite a few situations,” you smirk, disappearing once again. Oscar looks down at the card in his hand.

Y/n L/n. Special Services.

In neat penmanship you wrote down a series of numbers, and a note to burn the card after saving the number. Oscar races to the window that overlooks the only exit of the building, but you had already disappeared into the crowd.

[rootedinrevisions]

More Than a Game

SUMMARY: When you join Glen Powell for a night under the bright Texas stadium lights, you expect an evening of football and fun—but what you don’t expect is the sting of an offhand comment that shakes your confidence. As Glen’s world of fans and flashing cameras surrounds you, he’s quick to remind you of where you stand: by his side, as the one who holds his heart. With every protective gesture, from offering you his jacket to placing his prized Stetson on your head, Glen shows the world that you’re not just another face in the crowd—you’re someone special.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't see the way Glen was looking at the Texas football game and NOT write something about it. I combined a little bit of my idea from seeing him at the game last night with a request I received for protective Glen defending you. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Some body shaming/slight bullying. But mostly this is fluff. Implied smut happening later.

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The drive to the game felt like it had gone by in a blur, but your heart was still racing. You kept sneaking glances at Glen, who was effortlessly steering his truck down familiar Austin streets, humming along to the country song playing softly through the speakers. The sight of him in his burnt orange jacket, his dark brown Stetson resting on the dash, made you smile. He was so deeply Texan, so deeply himself, and you loved that about him.

But today was different. Today wasn’t just another day at his place or one of your quiet, private dinners. Today, you were stepping into his world, a world filled with football fans, media, and curious eyes.

“You sure about this?” Glen’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see his warm, brown eyes on you. There was a hint of concern in his gaze, even though his usual confident smile was still there. His hand was resting on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing you.

You nodded, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, you know that, right?” His thumb brushed back and forth against your leg, a soothing motion that made it hard to focus on anything but his touch.

You exhaled, trying to release some of the tension you’d been carrying all morning. “I know, but... I want to. I’m just a little nervous.”

Glen’s hand shifted, his fingers intertwining with yours now as he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. You’re with me, okay? It’s just a game. And no matter what, I’m right here.”

The simplicity of his words, the steady calm in his voice, grounded you in a way that nothing else could. Glen had a way of making everything feel right, even when the rest of the world felt chaotic. You smiled at him, feeling your nerves slowly easing, though a small part of you still wondered what it would be like to step into the spotlight with him.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze before resting it back on your thigh. 

The warmth of his palm was a quiet reminder of the man beside you—the man who’d chosen you, wanted you in his life. Even with his hectic schedule, the endless stream of filming projects, press tours, and interviews, Glen always made time for you. No matter how chaotic things got, he’d find a way to carve out moments that were just yours. Whether it was late-night phone calls when he was halfway around the world or surprising you with a weekend getaway after a grueling shoot, he never made you feel like you were competing with his career. He always made you feel like you mattered.

And today, with everything on his plate, he was still here—hand in yours, offering you the steady reassurance that, despite all the noise of his world, you were the part that grounded him.

As you approached the stadium, the sight of fans in burnt orange, waving flags, and cheering already filled the air. Glen’s hand never left you, and as you pulled into the parking lot, he gave your leg one last reassuring squeeze before turning off the engine. He flashed you that signature smile, the one that made your heart skip and leaned in slightly.

“Let’s do this, yeah?”

You nodded, your nerves still there but softened by the fact that Glen was beside you—steady, calm, and exactly the kind of person who could turn an overwhelming moment into something that felt safe.

The hum of the stadium grew louder as you and Glen made your way through the corridors, his hand never leaving yours. Each step you took, the anticipation in the air grew thicker. The faint sound of a band playing echoed through the concrete walls, the roar of the crowd amplifying with every turn.

And then, you stepped out into the open.

The sight was overwhelming at first—the sea of burnt orange stretching as far as the eye could see, flags waving proudly in the stands, the stadium alive with energy. The lights beamed down on the field, casting a golden hue across the manicured grass. The sheer size of it, the passion radiating from the crowd—it was more than you had imagined. 

For a moment, you stood still, taking it all in, the magnitude of where you were sinking in. This was Glen's world, and it was as vibrant and electric as he’d always said. You felt his eyes on you before you even turned to him. When you glanced up, you found him smiling at you, a look of quiet pride and happiness on his face. He loved this. It wasn’t just the game, the culture, the tradition—it was sharing it with you. Seeing you take in the thing he loved most with such wonder lit up something in him.

His hand gently squeezed yours, pulling you closer as he murmured, "You alright?"

You nodded, smiling as you glanced back out at the stadium. "Yeah. This is... it's incredible."

He chuckled softly, his voice warm with affection. "I told you." His gaze lingered on you, his eyes soft as he watched you soak in the moment. "I'm glad you're here with me. Means a lot."

You looked up at him, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. You meant a lot to him. Even in the midst of all this—the noise, the chaos, the spectacle—his focus was still on you. Glen Powell, the Texas boy with a larger-than-life career and a love for this sport, was standing here, looking at you like you were the most important part of this moment.

Your heart swelled, and as you shared a quiet smile with him, you knew—this was more than just a game. It was a part of who Glen was, and you were honored to be a part of it, a part of him.

You could see the players warming up, coaches barking orders, and media personnel buzzing around, all while the game raged on. It was an atmosphere you could only describe as electric.

But then, the attention started to shift. One by one, people began noticing Glen. A few fans from the crowd above called his name, waving enthusiastically as they snapped pictures from their phones. It wasn’t long before a group of people nearby on the sidelines approached him—some familiar faces, others eager fans who clearly recognized him. Glen responded with his signature easy charm, greeting each person with that warm, affable smile you knew so well.

But through it all, he never let go of your hand.

If anything, his grip tightened slightly, reassuring you that even in the middle of the excitement, you were his priority. As he talked to a couple of reporters who recognized him from past interviews, he kept you close, standing just a step behind him, your shoulder brushing his arm.

Every so often, Glen would glance back at you, as if to check in, his eyes softening every time they met yours. His hand would occasionally shift to the small of your back, that familiar warmth spreading through you as he kept you grounded in this whirlwind of activity.

"Hey, I want you to meet someone," Glen said, his voice filled with excitement as he turned to you. 

He introduced you to one of the assistant coaches, and a couple of old friends from his time at the University of Texas. Each time, he spoke your name with quiet pride, like he was sharing a part of his world with them. And every time he did, you felt your nerves ease a little more.

As the two of you made your way further down the sidelines more and more people seemed to start to recognize Glen. Glen shook hands and greeted them warmly, but never let go of you. Even as more people started to crowd around, he kept you close by his side, his hand drifting to the small of your back when someone leaned in to say hello.

But as the attention on Glen grew, so did the whispers. At first, it was just a few curious glances, the kind you expected when people recognized a celebrity.

But then, as you stood by Glen’s side, a voice behind you made your stomach drop.

"Wait, is that his girlfriend?" a girl whispered, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, I think so," someone else replied, not even bothering to lower their voice. "I thought he'd be dating someone… prettier."

Your heart sank, the casual cruelty of their words cutting deeper than you expected. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. For a moment, the excitement of the game, the energy of the crowd—all of it faded into the background, replaced by the sharp sting of their comment.

Prettier. The word echoed in your head, twisting your stomach into knots. You swallowed hard, trying to push it away, but the insecurity started creeping in, faster than you could stop it. You suddenly felt out of place, self-conscious in a way you hadn’t before. Here, in this world that Glen seemed to fit into so effortlessly, you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t measure up.

Glen must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because he turned toward you, his smile faltering as he noticed the look on your face. His hand slipped from your back to your arm, gently tugging you closer. 

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the ground as you forced a smile. 

"Yeah, I’m fine," you said, trying to brush it off, but your voice came out smaller than you intended.

But Glen wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his brows knitting together as he looked at you with that gentle but piercing gaze, the one that always seemed to know when something was bothering you. "What happened?"

You swallowed, debating whether to say anything. It felt silly, childish even, to let a stranger’s comment get under your skin. But it did, and Glen could see it.

After a beat, you sighed and leaned in, lowering your voice. "Someone made a dumb comment," you murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.

His brow furrowed further, his hand gently rubbing your arm. "What did they say?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening as you replayed the words in your head. "They said…" you hesitated, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "They thought you'd be dating someone prettier."

For a second, Glen didn’t say anything. His expression hardened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as the meaning of your words sank in. You could see the protective instinct kicking in, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area behind you, searching for the source of the comment. It was subtle, but you could feel the shift in him, the way his body tensed, ready to defend you.

But instead of turning to confront the person, he took a breath and refocused on you. His hand moved from your arm to your face, gently cradling your cheek as he leaned in closer to you.

"Look at me," he said quietly, his voice steady and full of warmth.

You blinked up at him, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as you met his gaze.

"Don’t listen to them," Glen said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "They don’t know you. They don’t know us. And they sure as hell don’t know what they’re talking about."

You felt a lump rise in your throat as his words washed over you. It was hard to shake the doubt, but Glen’s presence, his unwavering confidence in you, made it easier to breathe.

He smiled a soft, affectionate smile that was just for you. "You’re the most beautiful person here, and not just because of how you look," he continued, his voice low but firm. "But because of who you are. And I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. Ever."

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of the earlier comment slowly lifting. Glen leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth that always made you feel safe.

"And just so you know," Glen added, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, "if anyone says anything else, they’ll have to deal with me."

"You’re too good to me," you whispered.

Glen’s grin softened, his hand sliding back down to your waist as he pulled you close. "Nah," he said, pressing another kiss to your temple, "I’m just lucky to have you."

As the crisp Texas air settled around you, Glen’s attention shifted. He could feel the slight chill in the air, and without missing a beat, he glanced over at you.

“You cold?” he asked, his voice soft yet full of care.

You shook your head at first, but Glen wasn’t having it.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket, the scent of him—spice and something distinctly Glen—filling the space between you. “Put this on.”

You hesitated for a second, but he was already holding it out for you, his hands poised to help you slide your arms through. As you slipped into the warmth of his jacket, Glen’s hands rested lightly on your shoulders, adjusting it to fit just right. He stepped back, eyes scanning you for a moment with a satisfied smile.

Just when you thought the gesture was over, Glen reached up, taking his dark brown Stetson off his head. Your eyes widened in surprise—this was Glen’s favorite hat, the one you knew he was almost possessive over. It was a custom one that was a gift from his parents a few years back. It had a "Hook 'Em" logo on the back. He never let anyone wear it. So when he carefully placed it on top of your head, tipping it just so, you couldn’t help the confused laugh that bubbled out of you.

“You... you don't let anyone wear this,” you said, your voice full of disbelief as you adjusted the brim.

Glen’s smile widened, his hazel eyes gleaming with amusement. “You aren’t just anyone,” he replied, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. “You’re someone special.”

The warmth in his voice matched the flutter of your heart, sending a rush of heat through your body despite the cool air. Your fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket, pulling it closer to you, feeling the warmth of him linger in the leather. The smile that crept onto your face was involuntary, the way his words wrapped around you more effectively than any jacket could.

Glen’s hands found your waist again, tugging you closer until you were wrapped up in him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered just for you, his breath hot against your skin. “You remember what it means to wear a man’s cowboy hat, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, the playful challenge clear in his tone.

“Oh, I remember,” you murmured back, glancing up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my end of the deal... back at your place.”

Glen chuckled, low and satisfied, pulling you into another hug before stepping back. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, winking as he tilted the brim of the Stetson down slightly, casting a shadow over your face. It was such a simple, playful moment, but the intimacy behind it left a warmth simmering between the two of you.

With his arm around your waist, you both continued walking down the sidelines, navigating through a sea of fans and sidelong glances. Glen kept you close, his hand secure around your hip as he smiled and waved at familiar faces. 

But his grip on you tightened a little when you both overheard a comment from a nearby fan. “What does he see in someone like…her,” the girl muttered to her friend, her voice loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough to think she could get away with it.

The words hit you like a jolt, and you instinctively drew in closer to Glen, trying to brush it off, but the sting lingered. 

Glen must have felt your reaction, sensed the shift in your mood, because before you could even fully process the comment, his hand slid protectively to the small of your back, gently pulling you even closer.

“Because she’s gorgeous,” Glen said, not loud enough for the girls to hear, but just for you. His voice was full of certainty, leaving no room for doubt. “Don’t ever forget that.”

His words were a balm, softening the sharp edges of your insecurity. You smiled up at him, thankful for his ability to ground you with just a few words. Glen grinned back, and then, as if to solidify his point, he reached up and adjusted the Stetson on your head again, a playful reminder of who you were with.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your side.

You nodded, mustering up a more genuine smile now. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

He looked satisfied with that, giving you a light squeeze before glancing around the stadium again. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something a little more casual, “we don’t have to stay down here. The suites are up top, and we could have a little more privacy. What do you say?”

The idea of some quiet away from the lingering eyes sounded appealing, especially if it meant getting to spend more time with Glen without the constant buzz of onlookers. “That sounds perfect,” you said, leaning into him slightly.

Glen’s grin widened as he pulled you in closer and guided you toward the stairs. “Good. Let’s go before you get too comfortable in my hat,” he teased, his tone light, but his hand on you steady and reassuring.

As you made your way up toward the suites, the tension from earlier slowly melted away, replaced by the warmth of Glen’s unwavering presence. You might have been in the middle of a crowd, but with his jacket around your shoulders and his Stetson perched on your head, it was clear to anyone watching—you were his, and he was yours.

[imreidswifey]

“𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨”𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -𝐒.𝐫-

Bad pun but I thought it was cute

Summary: Barista reader develops a crush on regular customer Dr. Spencer Reid, leaving cheesy pick-up lines on his coffee cup each day to make him smile.

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Ship: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

———————————————————————————-

It was the highlight of your mornings: the familiar sound of the bell above the café door, signaling the arrival of your favorite customer. Dr. Spencer Reid.

He was unlike anyone you’d ever met—or served coffee to. Tall, with a lanky build and hair that always seemed on the verge of rebellion, Spencer exuded a quiet confidence wrapped in endearing awkwardness. His mismatched socks and habit of nervously fiddling with his messenger bag strap as he waited for his coffee added to the charm.

You’d been working at Bean There, Brewed That for six months now, and Spencer had been a regular since day one. The man was a creature of habit. He always ordered the same thing: a large Americano with two sugars, and he always brought a book to read while he sipped his drink.

But it wasn’t his order that captivated you. It was his quiet “thank you,” the shy smile that accompanied it, and the way his eyes lit up when he read something particularly interesting in his book.

Which was why, about a month ago, you decided to get brave. It started small—a smiley face on his cup. Then a quote from a book you thought he might like. Then, one morning, you decided to do something completely out of character for yourself: you wrote a bad pick-up line on his cup.

“Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

You had fully expected him to throw the cup away without a second glance. But instead, he’d chuckled—a low, soft sound—and looked up at you with wide, hazel eyes. “Did you… come up with this?” he asked, tilting his head in genuine curiosity.

“Uh, no,” you admitted, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I found it online.”

And just like that, a new ritual began. Every day, you’d write a cheesy pick-up line on Spencer’s cup. And every day, he’d read it, smile, and sometimes even laugh.

Today was no different. You stood behind the counter, feeling a little nervous as you scrawled today’s line onto his cup. When Spencer entered, looking as disheveled and adorable as ever, you felt your stomach flip.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you said, handing him his Americano.

“Good morning,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you a second longer than usual.

He took the cup, his long fingers brushing yours briefly, and read the line aloud: “Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but what you didn’t expect was for Spencer to blush. His cheeks turned pink, and he looked up at you through his lashes, his lips twitching into an uncharacteristically shy smile.

“That’s… clever,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a good laugh,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Spencer lingered for a moment, his fingers tapping anxiously against the cup. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You know, statistically speaking, people who share bad pick-up lines with someone are often more interested in… getting to know them better.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was this Spencer Reid’s way of flirting?

“Are you saying you’re onto me, Dr. Reid?” you teased, your voice light but your heart pounding.

Spencer tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “I think I’ve been onto you for a while now,” he admitted, his blush deepening.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he took a deep breath and set his coffee cup down on the counter.

“Would you… like to get coffee sometime? Outside of this place, I mean. Not that I don’t like this place—I do, obviously—but maybe we could… you know, talk more? Without the counter between us?”

It was the most endearing, rambling attempt at asking someone out you’d ever heard.

“I’d like that,” you said, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

Spencer let out a breath of relief, picking up his cup again. “Great. I’ll… uh, see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed, watching as he walked away, his step just a little lighter than usual.

And on the counter where his cup had been, you noticed something written in his small, neat handwriting:

“Are you a barista? Because you’ve bean on my mind all day.”

Two days later, you found yourself sitting at a cozy little coffee shop across town. Spencer had suggested it, claiming it had “statistically superior coffee” compared to most places.

He arrived precisely on time, wearing a patterned button-down shirt, a sweater vest, and a slightly crooked tie. His hair looked a little more tamed than usual, but there was still a wild curl that defied gravity. He carried a book under his arm—a habit, you guessed, he’d never break.

“Hi,” he said, shifting nervously as he stood by the table.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling up at him. “You’re right on time.”

“Punctuality is… important,” he said, his voice a little higher-pitched than usual. He cleared his throat and sat across from you, placing the book on the table. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you liked, so I did some research. I mean, not on you specifically—just in general about first dates. Statistically, coffee dates are considered a low-pressure option.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing some of his tension. “You did research for this date?”

His blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly… well-versed in this kind of thing. I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess it up.”

“You’re doing great so far,” you said, and you meant it.

The barista arrived to take your orders, and Spencer surprised you by remembering exactly how you liked your coffee. He must’ve noticed your expression, because he offered a sheepish smile. “I pay attention,” he said simply.

The conversation that followed was effortless. Spencer was awkward at first, fumbling with his words and occasionally losing his train of thought, but once he found his rhythm, he was captivating. He told you about his work—though he kept the more gruesome details to a minimum—and you listened, fascinated, as he explained behavioral patterns and statistical anomalies.

“You’re really passionate about what you do,” you said, leaning forward.

“I guess I am,” he admitted, his voice soft. “It’s not an easy job, but… helping people? It’s worth it.”

“And who helps you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the question. “My team,” he said after a moment. “They’re like family to me. But… I guess I don’t always make time for myself.”

“Well,” you said, offering a smile, “maybe we can work on that.”

He looked at you then, his gaze so intense it made your breath hitch. “I’d like that,” he said quietly.

As the date went on, you discovered more about him: his love for science fiction, his fascination with obscure facts, and his absolute hatred of cilantro. In turn, you shared pieces of yourself, and he listened with an attentiveness that made you feel seen in a way you never had before.

When the coffee cups were empty and the conversation had slowed, neither of you made a move to leave. Spencer finally broke the silence, his fingers nervously tracing patterns on the table.

“I, um, I had a really nice time,” he said.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice warm.

“I’d like to do this again,” he added, his words rushed, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve.

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing his. “I’d like that too.”

For the first time, Spencer smiled—not his usual shy, fleeting smile, but something brighter, more confident. It was a smile that made you realize you’d been right about him all along.

Dr. Spencer Reid might be awkward, brilliant, and a little socially inept, but he was also kind, thoughtful, and deeply, unapologetically himself

And as he walked you home that evening, his hand brushing against yours, you knew one thing for certain: you’d write a thousand bad pick-up lines if it meant seeing him smile like that again.

[satsugacafe]

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 | (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 4)

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: If it's not a bother for you, can you please write types of simp they are for rojuro, kenpachi, kensei, sajin and iba? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Zaraki Kenpachi, Unohana Retsu, Ichimaru Gin, Muguruma Kensei, Ulquiorra Cifer

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: Anon, I’m so sorry that I didn’t write for most of the characters you requested. Majorly because I don’t write for them. However, I didn’t want to turn down your request and decided to answer for Zenpachi and Kensei while adding in extras. I tried my hand with Kensei for the first time even though I’m uninterested in writing for him.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Zaraki Kenpachi — Aggressively Affectionate Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა Firstly, he’s fiercely protective of you, even though he knows you have strength and skills and all that, he still keeps an eye on you during battles, ensuring no harm comes your way. And god help those who do harm you.

˚₊‧꒰ა We all know he has his roughness, but just for you, he’ll grow a little softer. Ruffling your hair, bumping your shoulders, pulling you onto his lap or letting you piggyback ride across Seireitei or wherever he goes (because he gets lost). Aware of when you’re stressed or tired and forces—scolds—you to take it ease. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Take a rest, I’ll handle things here.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You’re his favourite sparring partner from now on. Whether you have the strength to go against him, he’s sparring with you. Consider it his way of indirectly training you for tough opponents because once you can handle him, you’re good to go.

˚₊‧꒰ა His hands roam and wander and they do not apologise. Walking through the barracks and suddenly feeling a slap to your ass, standing beside him or bending over and randomly feeling his hands on your hips, out of nowhere, a giant, towering six feet figure drapes over you, or a bone-crushing hug that turns you into jelly. Yup! Expect it.

˚₊‧꒰ა Your number one hype man, or maybe Yachiru fights him for that position. But he’s your hype man and makes sure that his division also hypes you up anytime you’re fighting or celebrating a victory or accomplishment.

˚₊‧꒰ა Constantly makes bets with you to see who can kill more Hollows or beat up (in his case, kill) bad guys. The winner…gets something only he could think of giving. I’ll let you all decide.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Say that again, and you’ll regret it. Do you wanna die?” Yes, he threatens everyone and anyone because they dare ill-speak about you?! Never around or not around him. Would tell you to spar with him so you can feel better. Hit him as many times as you want since he’ll tank every hit.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s fiercely loyal, never letting anyone mutter a single word about you. Which brings about his bluntness when it comes to letting you know how he feels. “I don’t like when you’re upset. Tell me who did this?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t like when people interrupt your time with him. “Shoo. Can’t you see we’re busy?” Which leads to his possessiveness, always making sure others know that you’re his. “They’re with me, got a problem with that?!”

Unohana — Gentle-Natured Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა “Have you eaten today? You need to keep your strength up.” Yeah, for all of you who don’t like to eat (proper food), you’re gonna have her on your case when she learns you haven’t been taking care of yourself properly. (don’t think anyone wouldn’t mind though)

˚₊‧꒰ა Super supportive and always there to lend an ear anytime you need something to just listen to or give advice. Words of encouragement will be returned whether you ask for them or not, she will always boost your confidence. “You have so much potential. Never doubt yourself.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Tea dates, which probably start off with cooking dates. I can see her inviting you over to her division to spend time making your favourite meals together before moving to her quarters for a more private setting where you can enjoy your meal and some tea.

˚₊‧꒰ა I really don’t believe anyone is that foolish enough to harm you when she’s protecting you. Like everyone knows her reputation back then, and it hasn’t vanished, so you are well protected. Even if she doesn’t need to revert to that old version of her, her legendary skills in Kido are enough to keep you safe.

˚₊‧꒰ა Randomly pops up out of nowhere when you’re minding your business. All you would suddenly hear is her voice behind you, calling your name sweetly, or suddenly feel her arms sliding around your waist. It gives you quite a scare no matter how many times she reminds you that it’s all in good spirit.

˚₊‧꒰ა She had a habit of touching you as a gesture of reassurance, more for her sake than yours. A silent reminder that you’re real, you’re safe and alive, you’re still here with her. She sees you as her haven, her peace of mind and source of all things good. A light among all her transgressions in her past. Something good in her life.

˚₊‧꒰ა On that note of her being touchy, she does enjoy it when you cuddle her. Even if it’s just leaning into her side and wrapping your arms around her or sleeping beside her—she loves it. A small kiss to your forehead or head while she holds you closely and whispers, “You’re my everything,” or “You bring me much joy.”

˚₊‧꒰ა She loves to call you affectionate nicknames and terms of endearment, which makes your heart race when you look at you so sweetly and softly. “My dear,” “My heart,” “My love,” “My stars.” She’s a romantic one as well, in her own way of course. Surprising you with unexpected acts of kindness, a massage, a hot bath, or a spa day.

Ichimaru Gin — Devoted Simp (obviously)

˚₊‧꒰ა He loves to keep you on your toes, making you flustered or leaving you blushing, when often teasing you in a light-hearted manner. Sometimes, he likes to appear out of nowhere, always keeping an eye on you. “Miss me? I was just around the corner. You look so cute when flustered, you know that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Fiercely protective and will never let anyone harm you while he’s around or not around. “Touch them, and you’ll regret it.” During any situation that becomes tense, and he notices your discomfort, he’ll use his charming words to defuse the tension. “No need to worry, everything’s under control.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Has a soft spot for seeing you happy and goes out of his way to make you smile. Using the moment to call you affectionate nicknames, often in a teasing yet endearing tone. “Hey, sunshine, come here for a second,” or “Looking lovely to today, cutie.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You don’t have to worry about Gin being honest about his feelings or expressing his thoughts, even if they’re difficult to express. “I care about you more than you know. You’re my everything.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Loves when it’s just you and him together amidst the moments of chaos where he can let his hair down and be at ease. He is protective of those cherished times between you two. Doesn’t appreciate when someone encroaches or attempts to drag you off. “I love moments like this. When it’s just us. You and I.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s very attentive to your needs and wants while listening to your troubles or ambitions. He’ll remember that you only drink beverages of a certain colour or sit on a certain side of the room—as silly or odd as your preferences are, he respects them. As for your goals, he’s there to support you. “I believe in you, and I’m here to support you at all times.”

˚₊‧꒰ა His form of physical affection is as subtle and gentle as the wind. A gentle brush of his hand against your cheek, a kiss to the back of your hand, a gentle hug before he pulls you onto the futon to cuddle and peppers your face in soft kisses, landing the last one on your forehead.

Muguruma Kensei — Tough and Dedicated Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა He naturally has a tough exterior, often giving you a hard time, but it would be clear that he cares deeply about you. His teasing would be a way of showing affection to break the ice in case you felt like he was being a bit too tough on you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite his gruff exterior, he’s not immune to your teasing. If you call him out on being soft for you, he’ll scowl, but the faint pink on his ears gives him away. “Tch. Soft? You’re seeing things.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He tries not to let his affection affect his leadership, but it’s clear he values your opinion above others. If someone questions it, his response is simple: “Their insight’s solid. Got a problem with that?” But if that person doesn’t know to back off, he is fiercely protective, even if there’s no real danger. If someone so much as raises their voice at you, he’s immediately in their face.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s awkward with words when expressing how he feels, so he opts to show his care through actions—like fixing something for you or standing watch during late-night shifts. “What? You needed help, and I had time. No big deal.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Though he tries to act cool, his flustered moments give him away. If you catch him staring, he’ll clear his throat and mutter something like, “You’ve got something on your face—never mind.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Kensei always finds himself drawn to your presence, his usually stern expression softening whenever you're around. “Oi, don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking into my thoughts again.” On rare, quiet nights, he lets himself be honest. “You make all this crap easier to deal with, y’know? Don’t go running off, yeah?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s surprisingly attentive, remembering small details about you that most wouldn’t. If you casually mention liking a certain snack, it’ll mysteriously appear in the barracks the next day. “Don’t overthink it, yeah? It’s not a big deal.”

Ulquiorra Cifer — Stoic Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა “Why do you insist on holding my hand?” Struggles to understand physical affection and your need for it. To him, it’s confusing and foreign, though, he slowly eases into the act bit by bit.

˚₊‧꒰ა Incredibly observant and always noticing the smallest details about you and remembering them. “You prefer you tea without sugar, correct?” or “You enjoy a warm blanket during the rain.” Even when your interests might be odd to him, once he understands that it brings you comfort, he strives to achieve it.

˚₊‧꒰ა His form of affection of performed through acts of service. Perhaps something of yours finished or broke. He will repair it or retrieve a new and better version for you, in the same colour with greater efficiency, so it doesn’t crash out on you. “Your vase was broken, so I took the liberty of repairing it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Quiet moments with you are heavily appreciated—often sitting together in comfortable silence or engaging in deep, meaningful conversations. “Your presence is…calming. I enjoy your company.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s so straightforward with his feelings, never beating around the bush to leave you second-guessing what he was attempting to say. “I care about you. That is the truth and should anyone harm or take you away from me, they will suffer.” Protective and honesty as well.

˚₊‧꒰ა Enjoy teaching you about the Hollow world and his experiences, finding satisfaction in sharing his knowledge with you. Sometimes he would talk about his time before becoming an Arrancar and the room might grow silent as you feel sorry for his loneliness or the fights he got involved in back then.

˚₊‧꒰ა Has a habit of silently watching over you. At first, it came off as stalkerish since he was always lurking behind you, five paces silently. It was unnerving, but you eventually grew accustomed to his silence as he followed you around for your safety since other Espada might let their superiority go to their head and attempt to harm you.

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Are you taking requests for kraven? Maybe dating hcs where reader is lowkey insane?

Reader might come off a little more deranged/ morbidly curious rather than insane. But yeah enjoy whether this was.

You came across as a typical upstanding citizen of society, nothing out of the ordinary but not everything about you was ordinary when animals -whom are good judges of character- were adamant in avoiding you, running away as fast as they could if you were nearby and or show hostility towards you in hopes that you’d leave them alone.

You unsettled them as you were silent chaos waiting to break out, other people just get an unnerving feeling about you that they’re quick to dismiss when you show them a side that’ll make them less skeptical of your true nature. It was rather easy to fool others by putting on a charade that they can digest.

Sergei -upon first meeting- had a feeling that something was off about you as his eyes took you in, you looked normal but yet something within him told him to be weary of the fire within your eyes as you smiled at him.

Then again your meeting came at a time where one thing and one thing only was preoccupying his mind, so human interaction with anyone that could potentially get hurt by his father’s associates was far removed from his mind as he was quick to pick up where he had left off.

But it wouldn’t be long before you were too deeply involved with his plot against his father and you would have to remain close by the burly man for your own safety in fear that his fathers men would come back and finish the job that they should’ve beforehand.

However you seemed unfazed by all the violence and blood that came from Sergei’s lifestyle, almost coming across as numb when you saw how he’d tear through people as though they were nothing, your eyes would be wide slightly in morbid fascination at how effortlessly limbs were torn off and sent flying elsewhere.

Had it been anyone else would’ve ran away and seek for shelter for their own safety, get away from all the chaos and destruction happening before you. But you were a little different as you would only sit yourself down on a nearby surface and watch Sergei go to work in awe of how truly violent one man could be to cause so much bloodshed.

Sergei would naturally be a little pissed that you were so close to the violence, so close to getting hurt and looking about as unbothered as you were being told something that didn’t affect you directly. Like nothing truly disturbed you because you’ve already seen your fair share of chaos and carnage in comparison to a normal civilian.

It was eyebrow raising to say the least but your safety was his bigger concern as he held you by your shoulders and looked at you with wild eyes, expecting you to flinch but you didn’t, if anything you only smiled at the man as you hugged him tight; not caring for the blood that stained him as you knew simple but effective methods to get rid of such a stubborn substance.

‘You could’ve gotten hurt.’ He tell you.

‘No I wouldn’t.’ You replied so certainly, a little too calm for someone who’s seen people die before their eyes. ‘I have you.’ You added.

‘You act unfazed by such displays of violence,’ Sergei starts, ‘I wonder why, you don’t seem to have any background in anything that could have you withstanding the sight of a man with his entrails hanging out.’

You merely shrugged. ‘I might just have a strong stomach and the idea that you know so much about me and my background should off put me from you as being creepy, but I kind of admire a man who wants to learn all about his prey before pursing them in a hunt.’ You cackled as you messed with the fur lining of his coat.

Sergei removed your hand from his coat, holding them in his own as your fingers caressed the bruised and bloody knuckles tenderly. ‘Having a strong stomach is one thing love but your reaction alludes to a darker side of you that I have yet to see, almost as if the thrill of the hunt excites you along with the harm it causes others too.’ He adds in a low whisper as though he finally had you figured out, his eyes narrowed by his hold on you was still gentle and protective as though he was trying to protect you from your darkest version of yourself.

You pecked his lips innocently. ‘The hunt does thrill me, though only when I get to see you at what you claim as your worst and still feel nothing but love and affection for you my beloved Sergei.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hands, memorising their roughness and each individual callousness they had with the idea of worshiping a man of such raw power and strength. ‘You’ve always fascinated me, and you only continue to fascinate me even more.’

‘I’m not safe company.’ He tried to tells you.

‘I don’t care whether your safe company or not, they’re going to come after me regardless if you explained that I have no ties with you, and this-‘ you gesture to the dead bodies nearby. ‘Will only tell them that there is something between us. A connection that they can exploit to their advantage against you, so if anything I’m in safer company with you than without you.’ You replied.

Sergei knew you were right, the damage was already done and more people will only be after you and him because of it. However this doesn’t solve the itching feeling that he got from that darkness within your heart, that curious nature that you possessed that could borderline dangerous.

Who was he romantically involved with and why did it send his senses haywire into whether keep you safe from that inner darkness or keep himself away from that very same thing?

[amethystarachnid]

SKY ROCKETS AND ROBOTS - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, some angst, a little bit of spicy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Part 2

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Y/N's ex left her when she got pregnant, Tony is a softie here

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the Avengers were formed

ᯓ★ Request: Tony stark × reader! single mom please? With fluff and smut 😅😅💐 ( @binsan)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You were once a bright young engineer, fresh out of MIT with dreams as big as the sky. You had a passion for technology, a sharp mind, and a heart full of ambition. Then life happened, in ways you never expected. You met someone, fell in love, and things moved fast. Maybe too fast. A whirlwind romance turned into an unexpected pregnancy, and before you knew it, you were a mother to a beautiful baby girl named Lily.

But your partner? He wasn’t ready. He disappeared from your life, leaving you alone to figure things out. At first, it was overwhelming, balancing work, the responsibilities of motherhood, and the heartbreak of abandonment. But you pulled through. You took up freelance work, designing software and small tech solutions from home, juggling conference calls while nursing, coding through the night after bedtime. You got used to it, became stronger, more resilient. Now, your daughter is five, a bundle of energy and curiosity who’s inherited your love for science and technology.

You’ve come a long way since those early days of struggle, but there’s still a part of you that wonders if you’ll ever find someone who’ll love both you and Lily. Someone who won’t run at the first sign of difficulty.

And then one day, you meet Tony Stark.

🚀

You don’t expect your day to take a turn like this. It’s a warm Saturday afternoon, and you’re at a local science expo — a rare treat for you and Lily. She’s dragging you from one exhibit to another, her little hands pulling on yours with excited tugs. It’s moments like these that remind you why you push so hard. Seeing her wide-eyed and full of wonder makes every sleepless night worth it.

You’re at an exhibit featuring cutting-edge AI when you feel her stop abruptly.

“Mommy, look! That's Iron Man!” Lily’s voice is filled with awe as she points to the tall figure standing a few feet away, surrounded by a small crowd. You follow her finger, and your heart skips a beat.

Tony Stark.

There’s no mistaking him, dressed in a sharp blazer and sunglasses, exuding that signature arrogance and charm you’ve only ever seen on TV. He’s in the middle of a casual conversation with someone, but even from here, you can feel the aura of importance surrounding him.

“Yeah, that’s Iron Man,” you murmur, feeling a bit like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected to run into someone like him.

But Lily, being the fearless little adventurer she is, takes off running toward him before you can stop her. You’re quick on her heels, heart pounding as you call her name.

“Lily, wait!”

But it’s too late. She’s already tugging on Tony Stark’s pant leg by the time you catch up, looking up at him with those wide, curious eyes.

“Hi, Iron Man! I like your robots,” she says brightly, as if she’s talking to any random adult. Tony glances down, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal a pair of surprisingly kind eyes as he kneels to her level.

“Hey there, kiddo. You’ve got good taste.” He flashes a grin, and for a moment, you see why people love him so much. There’s something disarming about his easy confidence.

You finally reach them, feeling flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry—she’s… really into tech. She didn’t mean to—”

But Tony waves a hand dismissively, standing up to his full height and giving you a once-over. His gaze lingers just a fraction too long, and you suddenly feel like you’re under a microscope.

“No harm done,” he says, his tone surprisingly light. “She’s got a future, clearly. Knows how to pick role models.”

You chuckle awkwardly, still trying to process that you’re standing in front of the Tony Stark. Up close, he’s even more intimidating, but in a weirdly magnetic way. There’s a spark in his eyes that speaks of brilliance, mischief, and something deeper you can’t quite put your finger on.

“She loves Iron Man,” you say, trying to regain some composure. “She’s been obsessed with building things since she could stack blocks. I can’t seem to keep her away from anything mechanical.”

Tony arches a brow, glancing down at Lily who’s now excitedly talking about the miniature rocket she tried to build last week.

“Is that so?” he says, crouching down again, giving Lily his full attention. “A mini rocket, huh? Did it work?”

Lily shakes her head, her pigtails swaying. “It almost did. But it went boom.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling her hair lightly. “Sometimes that’s how the best inventions start. Next time, try using a lower combustion rate. Less ‘boom,’ more ‘whoosh.’”

You’re surprised by how gentle he is with her, how effortlessly he connects with a child, that you don't have the heart to tell him that it was you who did the major part of the building process. For a moment, you just watch them, your chest tightening at the sight of Lily’s joy. It’s rare for her to interact with anyone like this, especially someone who doesn’t treat her like a kid.

He stands up again, turning to you with a smirk. “She’s smart. Gets it from her mom?”

You flush slightly at the compliment, feeling a bit tongue-tied under his gaze. “I guess you could say that. I was an engineer before…” You trail off, not sure why you’re suddenly oversharing. Something about Tony Stark makes it hard not to.

Before you can say more, he interrupts. “Let me guess — you’re still an engineer. Just doing the mom-engineer thing now. That’s no small feat.”

You blink, caught off guard by how perceptive he is. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I know a thing or two about multitasking. Running a company and saving the world — it’s basically the same as raising a kid, right?”

You laugh despite yourself, relaxing a little. He’s not what you expected. Less distant, more… human.

“Sure, except your robots actually listen to you,” you quip, and Tony grins.

“Most of the time,” he admits. “So, any chance I could take a look at that rocket project? I’ve got a thing for fixing ‘booms.’”

Your heart skips again at the casual offer, but before you can reply, Lily pipes up, bouncing on her toes.

“Can we, Mommy? Please?”

You glance between her eager face and Tony’s amused expression. This is surreal. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at both of you — like he’s actually interested, not just humoring a fan. Like he sees you.

Maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.

As you walk beside Tony Stark, weaving through the crowd, you can't quite believe what's happening. This kind of thing doesn't happen to people like you. Yet here you are, with Lily practically skipping ahead, chattering excitedly about rockets and robots, while Tony listens with genuine interest.

“So,” he says, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your theory on the combustion failure? Too much fuel or not enough stabilization?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden technical question. You’d been bracing yourself for more of his charm or sarcasm, but here he is, actually engaging with you on a deeper level. You’re impressed, though it makes sense—he is Tony Stark, after all.

“Stabilization, mostly,” you reply, falling into a rhythm of conversation. “The design was sound, but we didn’t account for the weight distribution. It shifted mid-launch and threw everything off.”

He nods thoughtfully, like he's analyzing every detail. “Classic mistake. I had a similar issue with one of my early suits—though, you know, a little less ‘mini rocket,’ a little more ‘metal suit crashing into a building.’ Same basic concept, though.”

You laugh at the mental image, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah, I imagine the stakes were a little higher for you.”

Tony shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say property damage and I have a complicated relationship.”

Lily turns around, walking backward as she looks up at Tony with wide eyes. “Did you blow up a building?!”

He grins, glancing down at her. “A few, but mostly on purpose. Don’t try that at home, kid.”

Lily giggles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She’s clearly in awe of him, and it’s hard to blame her. You feel a bit of that awe yourself, though you’re trying not to show it.

“So, where’s this rocket of yours?” Tony asks, glancing around like he's half-expecting it to pop out of nowhere.

You clear your throat, feeling a bit sheepish. “Oh, um… it’s back at our apartment. We didn’t exactly bring it to the expo. I wasn’t expecting to run into… well, you.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing more pronounced. “What, you don’t carry failed rocket prototypes everywhere you go? Amateur move.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Tony taps his chin, pretending to think hard. “Tell you what. Why don’t you two swing by my place later? I’ve got a full lab, and I’m sure we can find something that won’t blow up—at least not right away.”

Your heart skips at the offer. Is he serious? Inviting you to Stark Tower like it’s the most casual thing in the world? You glance down at Lily, who’s looking up at you with pleading eyes, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying not to sound too shocked. “I mean, we wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “Intrude? Nah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to show off my new toys to someone who actually appreciates them. Kids are way better at that than most adults.” He glances down at Lily, then adds with a wink, “Plus, I’ve got juice boxes.”

Lily practically jumps up and down. “Mommy, can we go? Please, please, please?”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the surreal situation. But something about Tony’s easy demeanor, the way he’s connected with Lily, and even the way he’s made you feel comfortable makes it hard to say no. It’s not every day you get a chance like this, and you know Lily will talk about it for weeks if you turn it down.

“Alright,” you say, giving in with a smile. “I guess we’re going to Stark Tower.”

Tony grins, looking genuinely pleased with your answer. “Great. Let’s make it a field trip.”

🚀

An hour later, you find yourself walking through the sleek, high-tech halls of Stark Tower. The whole place feels like something out of a futuristic movie, and you can’t help but feel a little out of place. But Tony, ever the showman, makes sure neither you nor Lily feel that way for long.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says with a grand gesture, like he’s introducing you to some royal palace. “I was going for ‘modest,’ but you know, things escalated.”

Lily’s eyes are practically bugging out of her head as she looks around, taking in the shiny surfaces, the impressive tech displays, and the overall coolness of the place. “This is so cool,” she breathes.

You can’t help but agree. “Yeah, this is… incredible.”

Tony leads you both to his lab, where holograms flicker in the air, and sleek machines hum quietly in the background. It’s every bit as impressive as you’d imagined—maybe more so. He walks over to a workbench, tapping a few buttons on a console until a holographic blueprint of a rocket hovers in front of him.

“Alright, kiddo,” he says, crouching down to Lily’s level. “Let’s see what we’re working with. Tell me about your rocket.”

Lily beams, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of her project, complete with wild hand gestures. Tony listens intently, nodding at all the right moments, occasionally throwing in a comment or suggestion.

You stand back, watching the two of them interact. It’s surreal, seeing Tony Stark—the Tony Stark—so genuinely engaged with your daughter. He’s patient, encouraging, and—despite his usual sarcasm—there’s a warmth in the way he talks to her that catches you off guard.

As Lily finishes her explanation, Tony stands up and looks over at you. “Sounds like you’ve got a real prodigy on your hands.”

You smile, feeling a swell of pride. “She’s pretty special, yeah.”

Tony taps his chin thoughtfully, then flashes you a grin. “You know, I don’t usually offer internships to five-year-olds, but I could make an exception.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe in a few years.”

“Fair enough,” Tony replies, still grinning. “But seriously, if she ever wants a tour of the lab—or you do—just say the word.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the offer. “You’re full of surprises today.”

Tony shrugs, nonchalant. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy. Plus, I like hanging out with people who don’t try to sell me on their latest ‘groundbreaking’ invention every five minutes.”

The three of you spend the next hour tinkering with the rocket design. Tony gives Lily some gentle guidance, teaching her a few tricks of the trade while making sure to keep things light and fun. You can tell she’s having the time of her life, and honestly, so are you. You’ve never seen her this animated, this confident.

As the afternoon winds down, Tony walks you both back to the lobby, hands in his pockets, his usual easy smirk back in place.

“Well, that was fun,” he says. “I’ll have my people send over the specs we worked on. Maybe next time, we can tackle world domination.”

You chuckle. “I’ll let you know if we’re free for that.”

Tony winks at Lily, who’s practically buzzing with excitement. “And hey, kid—next time you’ve got a rocket that goes ‘boom,’ give me a call. We’ll fix it together.”

Lily grins, waving enthusiastically. “Okay! Bye, Iron Man!”

As you leave Stark Tower, you can’t help but glance back at Tony one last time. He gives you a casual wave before turning back toward his lab, and you can’t shake the feeling that today was more than just a chance encounter.

It feels like the beginning of something. Something new. Something… different.

And you can’t wait to see where it goes.

🚀

Over the next few weeks, your life takes on a surreal, almost dream-like quality as Tony Stark begins to weave his way into your world. What starts as a few casual meet-ups, mostly centered around Lily’s fascination with all things tech, turns into something much more.

The first time he invites you both back to Stark Tower, it’s under the pretense of helping Lily with her latest invention—a robot that she’s determined to build from scratch. You sit back, watching as Tony patiently explains complex concepts to your five-year-old daughter, all while making it fun for her. There’s a tenderness in the way he interacts with her that surprises you. Tony Stark, the world-renowned billionaire with a reputation for being difficult, is kind and patient with a child, in ways you never would have expected.

You’re impressed, of course. But more than that, you find yourself drawn to the man behind the Iron Man persona.

It starts with little things. The way Tony catches your eye when Lily says something particularly cute or brilliant, the small smirk he gives when he knows you’re trying to hold back a laugh. He makes a habit of throwing sarcastic comments your way, but you soon realize it’s his way of flirting—teasing you in that playful, witty way he’s known for.

"You know," he says one afternoon while you’re watching him help Lily with a mechanical arm for her robot, “I think I deserve some kind of award for this. ‘Best Teacher to a Mini-Engineer.’ Maybe a medal. Or a statue.”

You smirk, folding your arms across your chest. “Oh, absolutely. I’m sure the world’s been waiting for a bronze Tony Stark to grace Central Park.”

He grins, that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “I knew you were smart.”

It’s in these small moments that you find yourself opening up to him. You’ve always been independent, not allowing yourself to lean on anyone for help, but Tony’s different. He’s been through his own struggles, carried his own burdens, and while you’re still cautious, you find comfort in the fact that he gets it. He doesn’t judge you for being a single mom or for the sacrifices you’ve had to make. If anything, he admires it.

"Raising a kid and working as an engineer?" he says one night over dinner—yes, dinner. He’d invited you and Lily over for what he called "a Stark special," which turned out to be takeout pizza and some ridiculous dessert made by his AI assistant. "That’s a superhero gig right there."

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m pretty sure saving the world in a metal suit still beats making school lunches and fixing leaky faucets.”

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone light but serious, “you do both. No suit needed.”

That night, when you leave, you find yourself thinking about him long after Lily has fallen asleep. There's something about Tony that lingers. Maybe it's his charm, or maybe it's the way he looks at you like you’re more than just a mom balancing a million things—like he sees the person you were before all the responsibilities took over.

As time passes, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You, Tony, and Lily have your little routine now, with frequent visits to Stark Tower becoming almost a weekend tradition. What surprises you most is how seamlessly Tony has integrated into your life—and not just with Lily. He asks about your work, your passions, the things you’ve had to put on hold since becoming a single mom. He pushes you to take up some of your old engineering projects, even offering his lab space if you ever want to tinker.

“You could use the space when I’m not around,” he says one evening, nonchalant as ever. “There’s always room for another genius around here.”

You laugh it off, though your heart skips a beat. “I’m pretty sure one genius is enough.”

Tony arches an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “You’re right. With you here, we might be over capacity.”

As the weeks turn into months, you realize you’ve grown used to having Tony around. He’s no longer just the famous billionaire who showed up at a science expo one day. He’s become a friend, someone you can talk to, someone you can rely on.

But there’s more to it than just friendship. You feel it in the way your heart flutters when he leans a little too close during one of his sarcastic quips, or the warmth that spreads through your chest when he smiles at you—really smiles, with that soft, almost vulnerable look in his eyes. You find yourself looking forward to the moments when it's just the two of you, standing on the balcony of Stark Tower late at night, talking about everything and nothing while Lily sleeps soundly in the guest room.

One evening, after one of those long, late-night talks, something shifts. You’re standing on the balcony, the city skyline stretched out before you, the cool breeze brushing your skin. Tony’s beside you, quiet for once, just watching the city lights. There’s a rare stillness about him, and you feel the weight of it, like he’s on the verge of saying something important.

“You know,” he says after a long pause, his voice quieter than usual, “I didn’t expect this.”

You glance at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He turns to face you, and for a moment, he’s not the confident, sarcastic Tony Stark. There’s something raw in his expression, something vulnerable. “This. Us. You and Lily.” He swallows, as if the words are difficult for him. “I’ve spent so much time being Iron Man, or the guy who fixes problems, that I forgot what it’s like to just… be with someone. To care about people who aren’t expecting me to save the world.”

Your heart skips. His honesty catches you off guard, but you can tell it’s not something he shares often. And suddenly, you realize that you feel the same way.

“You’ve been… different for us, too,” you admit, your voice soft. “I wasn’t looking for anyone, and definitely not someone like you, but…” You trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence. How do you explain that Tony Stark has become more than just a fixture in your life? That you’ve started to fall for him, for all his quirks and complexities, for the way he’s seamlessly become part of your world?

Before you can find the right words, Tony steps closer. His eyes hold yours, that familiar spark of mischief still there, but tempered with something deeper. “I think,” he says, his voice low, “you and I are a pretty good team.”

You smile, feeling the weight of what’s unspoken between you. “Yeah,” you whisper. “We are.”

And then, without another word, Tony leans in. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But when your lips meet, there’s a spark, an electric current that runs through you both, confirming what you’ve known for a while now.

This is real. This is something worth holding on to.

🚀

The decision to make your relationship with Tony Stark official doesn’t happen in a single moment—it’s a gradual shift, one that feels inevitable after months of stolen glances, lingering touches, and nights spent talking on his balcony. But when it does happen, it’s perfect in its simplicity.

It starts one morning in his penthouse, a few months after that first kiss. You’ve been spending more time there, with Lily (who Tony affectionately refers to as "the little genius") practically making his lab her second home. The three of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm, a little makeshift family that somehow feels like it’s always been meant to be.

On this particular morning, you wake up tangled in Tony’s sheets, the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You turn your head slightly, smiling to yourself as you hear the soft hum of his breathing. For a man who seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, he looks surprisingly peaceful when he sleeps.

As you shift to move, Tony tightens his arm around you, pulling you back against him with a sleepy grumble. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You chuckle, your voice hushed in the early morning quiet. “Trying to escape before your little apprentice wakes up.”

He groans, burying his face in your neck. “Let her tinker. She’s practically running the lab anyway.” His lips graze your shoulder as he speaks, and you feel a familiar spark of heat ripple through you at his touch.

“You’re terrible,” you murmur, though there’s no real bite in your words. You’ve gotten used to Tony’s brand of affection—playful, but with an edge of intensity that never fails to make your heart race.

“Mmm, terrible, but irresistible.” His voice is still thick with sleep, but there’s a hint of mischief in it, the same mischief that always makes your pulse quicken. He shifts slightly, his hand trailing from your waist down to your thigh, fingers brushing lightly against your skin in a way that’s both teasing and possessive.

You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a familiar hunger there that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “You’re definitely full of yourself,” you say, though your voice is softer now, breathier.

Tony’s smirk grows, his hand slipping beneath the sheets to pull you closer. “And you love it.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours, and any thought of protest melts away in the heat of the kiss. His hand grips your thigh, pulling your leg over his waist as he deepens the kiss, the familiar intensity building between you. It’s slow at first, a lazy sort of desire, but it doesn’t take long before you’re both lost in each other, the rest of the world fading away.

Later, as the sun filters through the curtains and you’re both tangled together in the sheets, a comfortable silence fills the room. Tony’s fingers are tracing absent patterns on your arm, and you can’t help but smile at how natural it feels, how easy.

“Have you thought about… telling people?” you ask softly, your head resting on his chest.

Tony raises an eyebrow, though he doesn’t seem surprised by the question. “Telling people, as in the media?”

You nod, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. Being with Tony Stark comes with a certain level of exposure, and while you’ve been okay with the low profile you’ve kept so far, part of you wonders what it would mean to go public.

Tony is quiet for a moment, then he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “Hey, I don’t care what they say out there,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “If you want to keep things private for now, we can do that. But if you’re asking if I’m ready to go public…”

His thumb brushes over your cheek, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your heart flutters at his words, warmth blooming in your chest. “I don’t care about the media,” you admit. “I just… I want to make sure we’re ready. That Lily’s ready.”

Tony’s expression softens at the mention of your daughter. “Lily’s already got me wrapped around her finger. I’d be more worried about how I’m going to survive that.”

You laugh, but the sincerity in his words brings a lump to your throat. Tony’s relationship with Lily has grown in ways you never expected. He’s been patient, playful, and completely devoted to her. And seeing them together has only deepened your feelings for him.

“Okay,” you say finally, smiling at him. “Let’s do it. Let’s go public.”

When the news breaks, the media goes into a frenzy. The headlines scream about “Tony Stark’s New Flame,” and “Iron Man’s Mystery Woman.” Paparazzi photos of you and Tony walking hand in hand through Central Park with Lily are splashed across every tabloid and news outlet.

To your surprise, the response is largely positive. While some outlets speculate about Tony’s past relationships and his infamous bachelor reputation, most seem genuinely intrigued by the idea of Tony Stark settling down, especially with someone who isn’t from the celebrity world.

The tabloids nickname you “The Genius and the Heart” and seem fascinated by how “normal” your life is compared to Tony’s glamorous lifestyle. There are articles praising you for balancing being a single mom with your engineering career, while others focus on Tony’s softer side, now that he’s seen as a father figure to your daughter.

You try to ignore most of the noise, but Tony, of course, has fun with it. One morning, you catch him scrolling through a gossip site, shaking his head in amusement.

“They think I’m domestic now,” he says, pretending to be offended. “I mean, can you imagine me, Tony Stark, settling down with a family?”

You roll your eyes, sitting beside him on the couch. “You do realize you’re proving them right by reading that, right?”

He grins, tossing his phone aside before pulling you into his lap. “Let them think what they want. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

The moment you realize how much your relationship with Tony has changed comes one evening when you’re back at the penthouse after a long day. Tony’s in the kitchen with Lily, helping her with a science project that’s somehow turned into an impromptu baking session. The sound of Lily’s giggles fills the space, and you’re watching them from the doorway, a warm smile on your face.

Tony’s crouched down, talking to Lily as they decorate cupcakes—his version of “science.” You’re about to step in and join them when you hear it. Lily looks up at Tony, eyes wide with excitement, and says, “Can I put the sprinkles on, Daddy?”

Your breath catches. It’s the first time she’s ever called him that, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure how Tony will react.

But Tony doesn’t miss a beat. He smiles, ruffling her hair and handing her the sprinkles. “Go for it, kiddo. Just don’t get too carried away.”

Your heart swells, a mix of joy and disbelief washing over you. Lily’s words hang in the air, and when Tony glances up at you, there’s a softness in his expression that takes your breath away. He’s not just playing a part—he’s become a part of your life in ways you never imagined.

Later, when Lily’s asleep, you and Tony find yourselves curled up on the couch, the weight of the day settling into a comfortable silence. You rest your head on his chest, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“She called you ‘Daddy,’” you murmur softly, still processing the moment.

Tony’s hand tightens around yours, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “Yeah, she did.”

You glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you see is a man who has found his place—who has chosen to be here, with you and Lily.

“Are you okay with that?” you ask, your voice a little unsteady.

Tony looks down at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I’ve never been more okay with anything,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m all in. With both of you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they’re tears of happiness, of relief. You reach up, cupping his face as you pull him into a kiss—slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long.

When you finally pull away, Tony brushes a thumb across your cheek, his smile soft but full of promise. “So, what do you say? Think you can handle me as part of the family?”

You laugh, your heart feeling light. “I think we’ve been handling you just fine.”

And as you settle back into his arms, you know that this—this—is exactly where you’re meant to be. Together. A family.

Forever.

okay, this was so cute to write <3 I love writing Tony as a softie, because I know deep down he is one.

[vaguely-concerned]

Eight Little Talons Reread Thoughts

Which, I’ll level with you folks, is mostly just me gushing about Teia and Viago and how much they should kiss because of who I am as a person, but maybe also some actual observations sprinkled in. This is still my favourite story in Tevinter Nights, I think, there’s so much Character Stuff in it. Let’s go!

Viago hated carriages—no amount of plush seating could make up for the inevitable ache of being knocked around like weighted dice. But decorum insisted, and he would not be outclassed by his fellow Talons.

Vs.

“You didn’t take a carriage.” 

“My luggage did. But I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a country jaunt.” She nodded toward the thoroughbred Taslin strider grazing on the top of the hill. “Andoral so rarely gets a chance to let loose in Rialto.” 

“You named your horse after an archdemon?” 

“Don’t worry, Vi. I won’t let him nip you.

You know… Andarateia might gain some illusion of normalcy by standing next to the most paranoid wound-up-tight repressed man around to provide contrast, but I think it’s crucial we keep in mind that she is also nuts. Naming your horse after an archdemon IS an insane thing to do in the world of Thedas huh. I suppose she genuinely seems to think of Caterina Dellamorte as a warm maternal figure and is in love with a tetchy snake of a guy too, it does all start to add up when you look at it like that.

— Beneath the smooth samite, he felt like a sinewy ball of tension. Teia suspected contact of any kind made Viago uncomfortable. It would explain why he swathed himself in indigo from chin to toe and refused to remove his gloves during dinner.

He offers his arm to her and doesn’t pull away when they meet Caterina — only when Dante shows up. Interesting (and possibly part of why Caterina seems to consider the two of them a cleverly stabilizing package deal when they get along lol). I love the mix of playful seduction and genuine fond, intimate knowledge and interest Teia has for him all the way through too — speculating about his childhood, trying to divine his thoughts and intentions, testing to see how he reacts to different things. And it’s so sweet that she seems to regard him with this affectionate amusement and fascination (which he seems to be afraid means that she’s mocking him but is, I think, just another level of appreciation she has for him. Correctly. Because he’s one of the funniest people in Thedas both in concept and in practice. Accountant brained-ass noodle arm Vetinari homage poison specialist. Teia’s neurotic purse dog of a man. Sole royal bastard who willingly chose to have a boring Antivan day job (killing people) and makes spreadsheets about it.) 

— “Not exactly welcoming, are they?” Teia whispered, her breath warm against his ear. 

Viago’s grip tightened on the head of his walking stick.

I swear to god courtney woods is so fucking good at writing romantic and sexual tension. One sentence!!! She drops in a one-sentence detail and it says everything!!!! She has such a knack for consistently adding these details without getting overindulgent or spelling it out too much that I really admire, I tend a bit more towards indulging too much as a writer that way myself so her sense of where to show restraint has me in awe 

— “Don’t ‘Nonna’ me, Andarateia Cantori,” Caterina snapped, although the heat in her voice had lowered to a simmer. “Not even my actual grandchildren call me that.” 

“Well, considering who your grandchildren are,” Teia responded, “I’m not surprised.” 

“How is Master Lucanis?” Viago asked.

Hell yeah Lucanis mention! Can’t wait to see how their dynamics will turn out in-game, we could be in for some truly spectacular and absurd workplace comedy nonsense if we’re lucky

— As always, Viago had with him his leather case of poisons and antidotes for toxins typically hidden in ingredients such as olives, truffles, pasta, lamb, cheese, cream, and alcohol. But he had not expected eggplant.

This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read, I love Viago so much he’s such a perfect weirdo. Reader, he had not expected eggplant. 

— Taking a deep breath, Viago focused on tying his cravat—an ordinarily simple task except now Teia was running her hands across every surface in his room, and his fingers kept slipping on the final knot. “It would help if you removed the gloves,” Teia remarked. “Surely your own cravats haven’t been tampered with.”

Viago being just… seethingly horrifically despairingly horny every time Teia shows up is so amazing, and Teia clearly paying A Lot of attention to his hands and his reactions at all times… again, courtney woods s tier sexual tension provider. 

— “No,” she said, crossing her arms. “Not until we boil some water.” 

Viago raised a brow. “Eight people were poisoned in this room.” 

“Then run your little tests to make sure it’s safe, but I refuse to look at another dead body until I’ve had my coffee.”

I must take care to repeat: teia is also fucking nuts (affectionate). It’s SO FUNNY that her slightly lighter and softer moral take on being a Crow means she does feel bad about the servants ending up in the crossfire, but she will also demand that viago make her coffee with their horrifically bloated corpses still strewn about the room fhdsjka. 

— Teia had often imagined what it would be like to kiss Viago. She told herself it was only natural. He was handsome, in his own way, and wound up so tight that she likened him to a giant knot. He was a challenge to untie—to twist and pull and loosen until the tension gave way and he unraveled, laying bare all his secrets. But knots were a delicate business. Tug the wrong way and you could end up with a noose.

I know I KNOW they have sex so weird and intimate and no one even takes their clothes off during it I know it in my heart

— “Do you not think you’re attractive?” Viago turned on her, his ears pink. “Ten people are dead.” 

She didn’t back down. “And whoever’s responsible will pay, but that has no bearing on this conversation.” 

“It could be me.” 

Covering her mouth with both hands, Teia doubled over, laughter spilling from her lips. “It’s not you.” 

He looked as if she’d slapped him. “I’m more than capable of killing everyone here.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re offended!” 

“It is offensive,” Viago protested. “Professionally.”

Teia please tell me you love me not only for my body and fashion sense and numerous and fascinating neuroses but also my extensive knowledge of poisons and capacity to cause death

— Again, Viago felt like a lute string. With every challenge, Teia twisted the pegs, tuning him, until she found what she wanted. Which is what, exactly? he asked himself, not daring to listen to the number of answers that bubbled to the surface of his mind.

You know Viago I think we should let her try some scales here at least. See what happens. (There’s no explicit sex in this story but everything that’s going on is nevertheless so kinky fdsjak. I think Teia could convince Viago to show a flash of his naked wrist and have a reaction like a sheltered young Victorian gentleman seeing an exposed ankle and a playful wink for the first time)

— As if she could feel the sudden rush of shame within him, Teia brought her hands up to rest on Viago’s hips, holding him in place. His thumb stilled as he realized her breath was short. Her pupils dilated. Before he could stop himself, Viago nuzzled his forehead against hers, his nose brushing her cheek. Teia’s hands snaked up his chest to run through his hair. She tugged him forward. He braced himself on one arm, while the other curled around the small of her back. 

This whole scene is unspeakably good of course but it’s always the detail of ‘his nose brushing her cheek’ that does me in the most. The longing!!! The yearning, the intimacy, the awkward perfect clumsy physical reality of it!!!! If he kissed her here the magical potion thing on her lips would have been immaterial, the results would have been the same without it!!!!!! The tug of war between longing and fear!

— oblique Zevran mention! <3 as the ultimate failson of house arainai, granted, but as I believe he might argue here: ‘ah, but you have heard of me, no? :>’. Babe I support you so much go out there and raise hell/kill whoever you want to I got your flower

— Big shoutout to the author for managing to pull off an entirely workable ‘And Then There Were None’ plot in the background here, even though the real meat and potatoes going on is the character and relationship development (and what meat and potatoes they are too)! It’s not an easy thing to do even in an abbreviated, more of a homage sort of form and balancing it with everything else going on is a feat

— Caterina 100% knows Teia is in Viago’s room when he’s supposed to be isolated and just doesn’t care lmao. (They act like such teenagers in that scene where she knocks on the door and they haven’t even kissed yet I’m dying). Caterina seems like a terrible person but it’s impossible to not feel for her a little, trying to keep Talons in line seems a lot like herding (very horny very carrying sharp objects) cats 

— Standing outside her ex-lover’s room, Teia tried to quell the violent drumming within her. Normally, she didn’t need to come down from a physical encounter. Seduction—like any form of manipulation—was about control. She could enjoy herself, but Teia always made sure to hold the upper hand. Viago had shattered that control without so much as a kiss.

I feel like this is a sneaky common trait that actually is part of what makes them so compatible (and the playful negotiation of which must feature prominently in their sex life eventually lmao): they are both HUGE control freaks. (Indeed it might be hard to be a successful Talon without this trait.) Teia and Viago both strive for control of themselves and their surroundings so deeply, she’s just much more extroverted, psychologically minded and soft power focused going about it (not unlike Caterina, whose power is built more on fear than charm but works along the same lines), while he’s more coldly intellectual and uh materialist? I want to call it? about it. Which makes perfect sense considering their backstories! Teia came from nothing in a monetary sense but has found she excels at moving people, hearts and minds style — and she’s very good at it, she is everyone’s favorite — so that’s the source of power for her, and Viago is not very charismatic or interested in people naturally but grew up seeing how status, wealth and power have their own clinical gravity that can be used, and also that people can never be trusted to watch out for you in that system.  

If Thedas has a Machiavelli-equivalent to ask whether it’s better for a ruler to be feared or loved they would both instantly give their answer with their whole chest and then squint at each other like ‘babe how do you live like this’ lol

(Also this line of thought has me wondering what the hell Caterina’s partner/spouse(s) would have been like — she must have at least two children to account for Illario and Lucanis, I wonder if she was ever married and what that looked like.)

— I really like the oppressiveness and claustrophobia you get from the descriptions Teia uses in Dante’s room — it feels so icky and sticky with history and sad and confining, and the way she keeps pushing herself through it anyway is weirdly melancholy to me. 

— I also like how their flaws/traits that drive them apart at the crisis point have follow-up consequences outside of their relationship before they reconcile. Teia’s penchant for manipulation and pushing on people indirectly causes the death of someone she once cared about (I mean, fuck that guy, not crying any tears for Dante or his broken bottle, but like in the overarching principle of the thing lol). When she goes too far with it or gets careless, she renders other people vulnerable and helpless in ways she doesn’t anticipate. (Rightfully or not this seems to be part of what scares Viago so much about it, he has this fear of being dissected for whatever she finds interesting and then abandoned when she’s tired of it, the whole underlying being a footnote in her life when she could clearly be something uh a lot more in his anxiety.) Meanwhile Viago’s insistence on self-reliance and reluctance to engage in human contact leaves him easily isolated and nearly results in his death. (And even when Teia saves him he has a hard time giving her full credit in favour of his many neurotic coping mechanisms lmao disaster man.) But when the two of them work it out to understand each other better and come together as a partnership, they’re such a force to be reckoned with that it brute forces the resolution and return to stability near the end. (Well. A significantly reduced version of stability to be fair but y’know better late than never.)

— Also: delicious detail that she is actually the closest you might get to a self-made woman/Talon, and he is definitely at least not in a position to fully dodge the nepo baby allegations — he wants so bitterly to be entirely independent and self-sufficient and not reliant on anyone, and yet it’s his connections inherent to his birth that have helped him get here, while she wants so desperately to have people to rely on because she comes from nothing and has known what it is to be that alone and unprotected. He knows protection and gifts — and love — can easily be taken away and used to control you/render you helpless in your vulnerability from how his father treated his mother, and she knows you have to try to hold on to something in other people or it’s just you and the dirt and you die. Which is what they’re really talking about in that scene where they argue, and it’s why they’re both right and wrong at the same time and it’s so tasty. It’s really Teia asking ‘Will you ever trust anyone? (will you ever trust me, or will you put up this wall every time no matter what I say or do?)’ and Viago going ‘Will you never take precautions to protect yourself against this hurt? (will I have to be the bearer of bad news about how the world really is every time?)’ and neither of them realize that’s what they’re taling about and it’s why it all explodes so badly. (I mean. Factually both came to the wrong conclusion about who the murderer was for fairly good reasons, so there’s also that haha.) 

— I wonder if we’ll see Bolivar or the heirs to the houses left Talon-less in the game itself. I’m guessing they probably won’t have big roles, at least, but you know just as background flavour, especially since Crow!Rook is already within the de Riva uh household as it were. I think Viago is still sensibly mid-table at Fifth Talon in Veilguard and Teia remains Seventh? So at least they’re not messing around with that rank order during the occupation 

— In semi-not teia and viago news (I am a character first writer and reader I canot change this), it’s neat to see it outlined just how much the Talons really are just merchant princes with some more added knives and cultural weight behind them. They are at the end of the day running businesses, no matter the mystique ™ you wrap it in. (Which I think Viago would be the first to tell you and Teia might try to argue against at least a little haha. Being a Talon is what you make of it you live your truth girl kill awful men you’ll never run out of contracts!!)

— Can’t believe the Crows have self-congratulatory ‘top 10 murders in history!’ classes as part of the training. Do you think Zev sat through those. Probably, if Teia did, right. Now there were some entertaining hours around the campfire during the Blight I’m sure

— Viago understanding but not accepting Teia’s offer to help him with an alibi and at first angling it as being out of hesitancy to accept help/rely on someone, and then later unveiling the added element that he knows Teia respects and loves Caterina and doesn’t want her to have to lie to her for him… Viago is nothing so simple as secretly nice deep down but he IS horrifically in love with and desperate to be kind to specifically Teia and it gets to me okay  

— I’d forgotten that DA’s passionate love affair with toxic yuri and some recreational bury your gays extended to Guili and Lera in this fdskjah. Would it really be Thedas without it I suppose (considering the genre of the short story it’s fine with me in this case, though, everyone’s dropping like flies in this even the straight people that’s just equality) 

— Viago was not a typical Antivan. He liked facts—checklists, numbers, precise measurements. Heart palpitations, clammy hands, tight pants—Viago did not like these things. In fact, he would go so far as to say he hated them. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. What Teia had elicited in him was akin to an internal natural disaster.

I simply love him so so much. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. He failed to account for the eggplant. He’s so annoyed at being poisoned and dying horribly and it literally never occurs to him that anyone would help him until he wakes up in Teia’s lap. He organizes all his poisons by puns. He uses his potentially last breath to argue with Teia about his precise state of dress or undress. Have we finally found him, the perfect man? 

(Also between Reyes and Viago Courtney Woods does such a good line in guys who’d really rather be emotionless machines of practical violence and monetary gain but find themselves down so horrifically catastrophically bad that it cracks them open to reveal a soul they aren’t all that happy to discover they have lol) 

— When Viago woke, it felt like someone had drained the blood from his body and replaced it with sludge. But it wasn’t all bad—someone who smelled like coffee and cinnamon was playing with his hair. . . . Her fingers resumed stroking his hair. It felt better than the water. It felt better than anything.

Unspeakable. Don’t look at me. 

— Viago reaching out and touching Teia’s cheek with his bare hands without a thought and all his tenderness and reverence for her laid bare in turn is something that can actually be so personal and it only took very nearly dying to get there (also… he’s presumably still half-naked through all of this while cradled in her lap. Amazing.). Can’t believe bare hands to cheek feels like third base with these two. And his fucking THOUGHTS through all of this… Don’t cry, he doesn’t deserve your tears, no one does (I don’t, I don’t want to be something that causes you pain) AOUGH

— Vaguely related: the implication in how that part is built is that he’s reaching out specifically to gently dry away her tears, right. Double AOUGHHHHHH not only does he manage to not be selfish or unfair in asking her not to cry he does that instead… there’s hope for you yet messere de riva  

— Teia with the red-hot poker standing guard over Viago while he ‘looks like a king in judgement’ and does the Poirot in the library exposition is everything and so hot what the fuck. She a snacc she attacc but most importantly… she protecc, she’s so fucking cool lol. they’re both really smart, but she’s clearly the brawn as well as the social skills (hey manipulation is such an ugly word!) and he’s the logistics and realpolitik on two long thin nerdy legs, absolute power couple. She’s the gaslight he’s the girlboss together may they gatekeep this invading army out of antiva  

— You guys… this might come as a surprise I have tried to keep it on the down low but. I really do love the world of Thedas so very much. I love the people and the places and the history and the stupidness and the brilliance so much. We must save the world because everyone I love lives here. Let this be a secret between just you and me we can’t let people know we sit/have emotions etc.  

— A servant approached to take the cage in Viago’s hand. 

“Careful,” Viago warned. “He bites.” 

“I can’t believe you’re keeping that snake,” Teia said, shaking her head. “It almost killed you.” 

“Which is more than any man can say. He deserves my respect. And a good home—with all the mice he can eat.” 

“But did you have to name it Emil?” Teia asked, making a face. 

“An homage. You’re always telling me to recognize my fellow Talons.”

Andarateia ‘names her horse after an archdemon’ Cantori x Viago ‘keeps the deadly adder that nearly killed him as a pet and names it after the last guy who failed to murder him’ de Riva. Freak well and truly matched. Soulmates, no notes, I’ll do borderline anything for these two to make it, goodnight. 

[doodler16]

If you asked me during the hazbin hotel pilot era who my favorite character was, it be Alastor 100%. He unironically stole the show with his mystery (if the pilot didn’t have Vaggie lore dump unnecessary I would’ve enjoyed a bit more), personality, voice, charisma, and heck even his design especially his consistent smile intrigued me. Even the way he interacted with the entire cast made me excited.

So what do I think of Alastor now? Alastor to me is a loser, unironically an attention whore in terms of screen time and merch, an egotistical, petty person, and a man child edgelord. He lost most of his mystery and charisma throughout the show (though I will admit I am interested in his backstory but I won’t be surprised if he, himself has daddy issues. And, I did find some of his jokes funny).

The pilot portrayed Alastor as this powerful overlord who didn’t care about his status which made him so unique. He wasn’t gloating about how he’s the radio demon about to end your fucking life. Alastor in the pilot was subtle. At the snap of his fingers he destroys Sir Pentious with no hesitation and no exchange of words. Meanwhile, Alastor in the show has to blab and go this tangent of how sloppy, slow, and unprofessional Adam is only to get his ass handed to him.

Alastor in the show frequently mentions his status and gets pissy when most don’t care that he’s back or straight up not recognize him. Meanwhile, in the pilot you will notice that it’s the opposite, Charlie (the princess of Hell) and Vaggie are freaking out that Alastor is here at their door. It truly shows much power and control presents in the pilot without even trying.

The thing that disappointed me the most was his lack of interaction with the main hazbin squad. It was the driving point of why I was excited for Alastor and how his involvement was going to shake up the hotel for better or worse. Only to find out He barely interacts with them and I’m supposed to “care” when the most of cast members hug and get excited that he is alive in episode 8.

Speaking of the hotel, he barely contributes much regarding the hotel and fucks around. Like I was expecting him to at least help Charlie and Vaggie brainstorm activities for the sinners to do or even take control in his own of how he would handle Angel dust and Sir Pentious. Heck or even go outside with Charlie and Vaggie to promote the hotel to other sinners via singing and cause some drama/mischief along the way. Specifically talking about the hotel, the only things he did was do the commercial, fix the walls, and protects the hotel twice. But That’s it.

As I mentioned earlier, Alastor is an attention whore in terms of stealing the spotlight in the actual show and being in most episodes, which may be good for Alastor fans. They got the full course meal but Vivziepop needs to focus on other undeveloped main characters who desperately need the attention and development. Which why Alastor should be used sparingly, this would also make the audience more interested with him and creates more mystery.

For example: Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad: you would think the episode would focus on Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship which it does for a small portion but we also gotta have Alastor in there so he could drop the biggest F bomb to Lucifer to show that he means business and hatessss him. We also gotta dedicate a 2:30 minute song duet between the two men having a pissing contest, along with our home girl Mimzy being a plot device/prop for Alastor in order to HYPE HIM UP and tell his origins. Because Alastor soooo mysterious and such a hunkkkk. Oh yeah, Charlie is there I guess…

Also, Alastor’s smile in the show bothers me personally, more specifically the way it’s drawn. It’s to jaded and sharp, so it’s pretty obvious to tell how he feels and emotions Alastor goes through. Meanwhile, in the pilot his smile and energy is so goofy and I miss that. That really added to mystery because not only keeps you on your toes but you don’t know what’s on his mind for the most part or his long term goal.

This is by far my longest post and I wanted to get this off my chest regarding Alastor. 😭

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Hi, Jason (Part V)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: no proof reading, Jason's relationships with Bruce and Dick are discussed, mentions of Joker, violence, death

You met with Dick again in a bookstore. At first, you thought that it was quite a strange coincidence, until you saw him trying to talk with a very big boy who didn’t seem very interested in talking with him. Dick appeared upset ; the other boy was just shrugging and trying to focus on the books in front of him. 

You hesitated to go to them; you didn’t want to intrude. You weren’t too sure to recognise the other boy, but his face somehow seemed familiar. What decided you was where they were standing: the classic literature aisle of the store. Which was what you were looking for when you entered the shop.

You thought you could just say hi and then leave them alone if your presence was annoying them. You carefully walked to them.

“Hey Dick” you greeted the boy who turned around and instantly smiled at you. 

You weren’t too sure if it was a real smile yet, so you didn’t come closer to him, but his answer showed he was actually glad to see you.

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” he asked

“Buying books I guess.” you teased “I was looking for Mansfield Park or Emma, now I finished Pride and Prejudice” you said. 

The big boy to whom Dick was trying to talk to, quickly turned around and looked you up and down. He watched you with curiosity sparkling in his green eyes. Dick took his chance before his brother could go back to the cover of the book he was holding.

“Y/N, this is Jason, my little brother. You seem to share the same taste in books” Dick introduced the two of them

“Hi, Jason” you smiled as you cautiously observed him, remembering who he was now you knew his name.

You remembered what you read about Bruce and his son “who came back from the dead” and all the headlines about “Bruce arguing with his adoptive son”. It had quite broken your heart at the time.

“You’re Bruce’s new girlfriend?” he asked you quite bluntly

“I hate titles and I hate to feel like a possession. But yes, I'm currently seeing Bruce.” you replied and Jason nodded “I’m surprised you heard about me.” you added. 

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It's just that things are rocky with Bruce.” Jason said and you reassuringly smiled at him “And yeah, everyone is talking about you in the “family”. Dick and Tim said you were nice.” Jason explained his first coldness to you

“I understand; Bruce isn’t always easy and you don’t know me” you nodded

“Ah yeah?” Jason arched an eyebrow at you. 

He had expected you to take Bruce’s defence, like everyone else.

“Let’s say that I like challenges.” you smiled “And I’m not Bruce’s lawyer” you joked

“You should thank god for that, or you would have a lot of work” Jason grinned and you could tell Dick was quite happy about the current interaction.

“Can I buy the two of you a drink or something? Or a meal” you asked. “There is this sweet little café right outside the bookstore” you offered

You actually wanted to know more of them. Jason was curious about you so he agreed. Dick wanted to come as well, but he quickly received a call from Büdhaven. He reluctantly left the two of you together. Dick would have enjoyed some time with his brother too, but maybe you would help. If you helped with Bruce, he was certain you could do pretty much anything. At the same time, he really hoped Jason wasn’t going to scare you away from the family as a way to avenge himself.

But you knew better; you had met Red Hood before and you liked him.

You settled in the café. You started to talk about literature at first. You were both passionate so it was a good conversation starter. You gave each other some recommendations and debated on characters you liked or disliked. Your point of views on characters were often based on your experiences, so it naturally led to a conversion about each other’s lives. And of course, you arrived at the subject of Bruce Wayne.

“I’ll tell him to apologise to you. He shouldn’t have acted that way even if I do agree with the no killing rule” you said “You’re both right in a way, but… Bruce should have talked to you, he should have let you know what was going on with the Joker and why he couldn’t kill him. Why you couldn't kill him either. He should have been there to appease your anger, not the opposite” you said

“You’ll quickly learn that he doesn’t talk much. Especially not about his feelings. If it gets too personal, he’ll push the subject away. If it can hurt him, he’ll run away. He's a bad dad for that. And he might be a bad partner to you as well” Jason told you

“I’m sorry about what happened to you. It must have been so difficult to wake up without your family. And in a body you didn’t know. You did good, despite the murders and everything. Actually, Red Hood has always been my favourite vigilante” you admitted without commenting on the last part of Jason’s words. You wanted to believe that Bruce would make an effort for you.

Jason chuckled as you mentioned his vigilante persona.

“It’s true you never wrote anything bad about me. I thought you were scared of me… Until I realised we actually met” he teased, his eyes litting up

“Oh you remember? Yes I used to live in your territory, and now I’m nearby. I stand by what I said that night: I know what you did for people like us, that’s why I thanked you. Bruce can’t understand what it is to be poor and lost and to have to do bad things to survive. But I’ll make sure he does better with you.” you said “Just promise me to speak with Dick. Your brother looks like he is very eager to have you back in his life. He seemed very sorry you weren’t speaking with him earlier” you added

“I will try to talk with him again then. Thank you for… Thank you. I think I really needed to have this conversation with somebody but no one wanted to have it and I couldn’t really go to a therapist. You’re easy to talk with” he whispered, a little bit awkward

“I know” you smiled “I’m glad if I’ve been able to help”

“Is it your good action of the day to go to Heaven?” Jason joked 

“Absolutely” you giggled

A moment of comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. You both enjoyed your tea before you resumed talking:

“Hey you know what, this is my phone number. You can call or text me whenever you need it.” you offered

“Why?” Jason plunged his eyes onto yours. 

He was definitely not used of adults being there for him, especially without a catch

“Well I’m afraid I’m a family woman and my own family sucks very much. And since Bruce wants me around, I’d prefer it if I can get along with his people. I’d like to take care of you all.” you admitted, feeling a little shy to say all of this out loud.

Jason was also very easy to talk to.

“I don’t think I’m one of his people. Not anymore at least.” Jason sadly smiled at you

“You can be one of mine then. Take it as a repayment for allowing me to go back home every night without having to worry about anyone slicing my throat off” you insisted

“All the pleasure’s mine” he chuckled before saving your number onto his phone “You know, everyone says Bruce is nicer since you’re around. I have to admit this is true. Maybe happiness can truly change a man” 

“Even a bat?” you joked because Jason’s words were touching you a little more than you wanted to show it

“Even a bat” Jason nodded

A few days later, you received a message from Jason, clearly tasting the water with you.

J: Hey wanna go have some lunch together today or tomorrow?

You: Today sounds good :)

After this, you regularly had lunch together and Jason clearly started to see you as a motherly figure, and you saw him as a son. He crashed at your place more than once after patrol, so you could eat together. Bruce never commented on your relationship with Jason, but he heard you when you asked him to apologise.

Which he did.

Jason accepted it and tried his best with Dick and his other siblings. He was still feeling awkward around everyone, but he was slowly spending more time at the manor, even when Bruce was there. 

When Bruce asked if you wanted to meet all of his children anytime soon, you agreed but you instantly sent a message to Jason to make sure he would be there as well. He eagerly agreed because he couldn’t wait for you to be officially a member of the Batfamily.

--

PART 6

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

[lynnie-ee]

Inktober Day 2; Cupid.

╰┈➤"Sometimes people need help to gather the courage to confess to someone...And they surely know how to encourage it. After all, who wouldn't help their sibling or son get the love of the Ramshackle Prefect?."

╰► Gender-neutral reader, scenarios, 1.9k words in total.

╰► Characters: Jade, Floyd, Lilia.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

⤿

⤿

﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Jade Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

The words “scary” and “unnerving" could be the first thing to come to your mind when you think about Jade, especially now.

You had become more attached to Floyd in the past few months thanks to Ace, as the Octavinelle second-year attended the same club as your friend, which led you to visit him a few times at Mostro Lounge, encountering Jade in the process sometimes.

At first, it was casual, a single greeting when he passed beside the prefect, that’s it.

But then, Jade noticed how unusually excited his brother seemed to be, even more than usual, and he quickly figured out what he was up to.

Jade was delighted to see his brother in good moods more frequently now, knowing that, for once, he seemed committed to dedicating time to the little Shrimpy, as Floyd called you. However, were his brother’s feelings reciprocated? Were you honest with him? Jade would never allow a magicless human to make fun of his brother, even if Floyd was more than capable of deciding that by himself.

So, one evening, as you were looking for his twin, he decided to test your intentions.

⤿

“Good evening, Prefect.”

“Ah, Jade!” The Ramshackle student replied startled, as the vicehousewarden appeared suddenly behind them, out of nowhere. Well, they were in the middle of the Mostro Lounge, so it was expected for Jade to be around, just not that close. “I was looking for Floyd.”

“I thought you’d be here for him. Then, follow me, if you will.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait here for him? He usually-“

“Hm, I guess my assumptions about you were wrong if you rejected my offer to see my brother.”

“Assumptions?” They questioned, tilting their head to emphasize their curiosity.

“Would you like me to talk about it here? Where so many people can hear?” The second-year questioned, a trace of amusement in his voice.

“A quiet place would be better, yeah.” (Y/n) replied quickly, sensing the direction of their conversation, this time following Jade to the back of the Mostro Lounge without complaining.

“You have feelings for my brother.” Stated the merman, as soon as they reached a secluded corner, startling (Y/n) with the bluntness of his words.

“What…what takes you to that conclusion?” The prefect questioned nervously, punching themselves mentally for their lack of confidence, a death sentence in front of a Leech twin.

“You have spent a significant amount of time here lately. Sometimes you don’t even order anything, looking content just by staying at the tables to talk to my brother. Humans can be quite predictable sometimes, with that red tone on your cheeks every time Floyd is near, you don’t fool anyone, Prefect.”

“I don’t-“

“You don’t?” Jade remarked immediately, a sly grin on his face, as he looked the Prefect more closely as he spoke. “Perhaps, then, I misunderstood the situation. Could it be that instead of being interested in my brother, you were looking forward to seeing me?” He added, his face now mere inches away from the magicless human.

Close enough for him to use Shock the Heart, now that (Y/n) was distracted-

“You’re incorrect, in that one." The Ramshackle student corrected, slowly trying to sound more confident. “But you were correct earlier. I do like your brother, is there a problem with that?” They blurted out before they could regret it.

Jade smiled even more widely, if that was even possible. This action scared the Prefect even more, if that was even possible.

“Shrimpy, what did you just say? Why are you here with Jade? I’ve looked for you everywhereeee.” Floyd's pouting voice interrupted their conversation, his figure soon appearing in the middle of them.

“How long have you been there?!” The magicless student asked trying to mask their embarrassment.

“Enough to know you like me! C’mon Shrimpy, you’ve let me alone for too long.” Floyd whined, swiftly taking the Prefect between his arms to drag them outside Mostro Lounge.

“Fufu~Seems like Shock the Heart wasn’t necessary after all.”

⤿

⤿

﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Floyd Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He’s ecstatic, to say the least.

You started to see his brother more frequently after he offered you a free meal (it was one of his mushroom dishes. He used you as a lab rat, but you didn’t need to know that), which surprisingly, you liked. And then, you asked him where he got the ingredients, allowing Jade to talk for hours.

Floyd always found you interesting, but enduring Jade talking about the different types of mushrooms that could be found in Sage Island for hours? You were a tough one.

Then, Jade started to invite you to hikes frequently. And you spent time at Mostro Lounge. And you spent time at Octavinelle. And you talked to his brother in between classes.

And then, one day after he came back to his dorm after his club, he found you in their shared room as Jade showed you his collection of terrariums, and was the sign Floyd needed to know that Jade was being serious about this.

It seemed like the two of you were starting to fall for each other, which was cool and all that, but…that took too long. It was boring. Whether you were with his brother or not, it was simple.

⤿

“Ya like Jade, don’t you?” Floyd mentioned one day, as both of you walked towards the cafeteria. (Y/n) had decided to accompany Ace to the basketball club, and in the middle of it, Floyd asked them to join him to buy water at the cafeteria. Terrible choice.

“What…what did you say?” The Prefect quickly questioned, wondering if they heard something wrong.

“Yer in love with my brother or something like that?”

“What are you even saying? Haha, I think you’re misunderstanding something here…” They replied trying to look nonchalant, failing miserably as their nervous expression betrayed them immediately.

“You listened to his mushroom talk, you’re not gonna fool me into believing you did it without liking him.”

“Floyd, I-“

“You should confess. Get over it quickly.”

“Sorry? I don’t think I’m ready for-“

“What are you? A coward? Do you think my brother will say no?”

“…Maybe he will.” (Y/n) mumbled after a few seconds, as they saw there was no reason to deny their feelings, as Floyd seemed to have figured out already.

“He showed his terrarium collection, he’s gonna say yes.”

“He has shown them to other people too, you know?”

“Not the ones from his room.” Floyd replied with an obvious expression. “Just do it, Shrimpy.”

“It’s not that easy, Floyd, I’m afraid.” They confessed, sighing.

“I’d say it’s very easy, actually. Look, Jade’s there.” Pointed the second year suddenly, making the Prefect look towards the other side of the hallway, where the vicehousewarden walked calmly. “Hey, Jade, Shrimpy here wants to tell you something!” He called loudly, promptly pushing the magicless student towards his brother.

“Having Shrimpy as a sibling-in-law will be so funny~.”

⤿

⤿

﹙⚔﹚Lilia Vanrouge ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He’s not subtle. Like, at all.

Now, don’t be mistaken; he’d never reveal Silver’s feelings to you. He knows how to guard his son’s privacy. However, that doesn’t stop him from pointing Silver’s strong traits to you, every single time he can.

It starts small, as you both walk around the halls, passing outside the gym. Did you know physical training was Silver’s best subject? No? How strange, he thought it was nice for you to know.

Then you both greet Riddle on your way to class. He’s in the same club as Silver, you know? He’s very good a it, after all, he has such a nice physical condition, he could carry you easily if you ask him. Why would Silver carry you? No reason in particular, it was just an example, similar to the people that carry their partners, which is just another example, don’t worry.

Until that, you had just answered by nodding at his words, thinking that perhaps Lilia just held Silver in high regard, but then you decided to agree to the compliments.

⤿

“How have you been doing in Magical Analysis? Is it too difficult for you?” Lilia asked you one day, as you both drank tea (that you offered to prepare) in the middle of the Diasomnia lounge.

“A little bit, considering that I’m magicless and all that.” Replied the Prefect without much worry.

“That’s a pity. Perhaps Silver could tutor you? He did great in his first year in the subject, in his first test he scored a-“

“Isn’t Sebek like very good at Magical Analysis? I’ve considered asking him for help but perhaps if you tell him he’d be more open to help.”

“…Maybe, he will. However, Silver is very good at teaching, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to be able to help you.”

“I don’t doubt it, after all, he’s very kind.” (Y/n) commented, sipping on their tea.

“Oh, so you think he’s kind?” The Diasomnia vicehousewarden asked, a big smile on his expression.

“…Yeah, that was what I just said.”

“What else?”

“About what?”

“About Silver, what do you think of him?”

“Well…He’s a very nice friend, easy-going, and calm. He’s one of the few people that seem normal, among all the crazy students here.” The Prefect replied honestly.

“Indeed, he’s very charming, don’t you think? Although I don’t see you often around him, I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Usually, we don’t see each other in school. But lately, we’ve talked quite a lot at night. Sometimes, he goes looking for Malleus at my dorm and we stay chatting for a while.”

“Just that?”

“Uhm, we also hang out sometimes after class, he asks me to talk to him when he gets sleepy in the afternoon. Or sometimes he invites me to help him to take care of the little animals that usually follow him.”

“Oooh~I see.” He smiled mischievously. “You talk very fondly of him, dear. Are you sure you two are just friends?”

“Of course, Lilia.” The magicless student replied quickly, chuckling.

“Are you 100% sure?” He questioned again; this time more insistent.

The Prefect remained quiet for a few seconds, surprising themselves when they felt the heat rushing to their cheeks when they thought of Silver, as handsome and gentle as he was.

‘Could it be…?'

“Cat got your tongue, Prefect?”

“No, Lilia, I was just thinking…”

“You can tell me, dear, I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well, it’s just that I…I don’t know if I see him just as a friend.”

“Oh ~ tell me more.”

“Silver has been so attentive and sweet with me…It’d be hard for me not to develop feelings for him, you know?” They mumbled, shyly.

“Of course! Love appears naturally, it’s normal for you to notice until now.” Lilia replied, an overjoyed expression adorning his features. “But it can’t slip away if you don’t do anything about it, Prefect. Perhaps you should be honest with him.”

“You think?”

“I know Silver very well; he’ll listen to you and he’ll know you have good intentions.”

“You may be right, Lilia. I have to go, if you excuse me, I think he’s about to finish his club practice.”

“Good luck, Prefect, I trust you’ll do well.”

Lilia chuckled softly as he saw the Prefect leaving the dorm with a nervous expression but with so much fondness towards his son.

“Ah, young love, always a delight to see.”

⤿

⤿

[meowordeath]

hiiii!! Would it be possible to request Norton & Naib with a fashionable S/O? Always dressed up like they need to be the hottest person at breakfast.

Thank you !

Identity V characters with their Fashionable s/o! :3

w/ Norton Campbell, Naib Subedar and Bonus ! Eli Clark

A/N : I’ll never pass up on adding Eli, love him too dearly. I tried my best hopefully this is what you wanted! :]

Norton Campbell

Norton doesn’t get why you are always dressed to nines. You both spend the day running from Hunters, why are you wearing the brightest most shiniest outfit ever.

Side by side both your outfits clash hard, you always look like your about to walk a runway and he looks like he just threw on the first things of clothing he found.

Sometimes he likes to watch you prepare your outfit for the day. Usually ends in him giving his two-cents. “You should wear this.” He’d say as he lays the ugliest shirt pants combo you’ve seen.

“Norton… those two colors don’t even go together, plus!” You then end up giving a whole analysis on what he chose and why it’s ugly.

He listens with a very blank expression knowing he’s not gonna remember why these two items can’t go together.

Even if he doesn’t get it he likes it, but don’t expect him to be fashionable alongside you, he likes to pick out his own outfits which never go with what you’re wearing.

Naib Subedar

He doesn’t really notice how fashionable you are, I mean he always thinks you look nice but he’s never really cared for stuff like that. The other survivors like to compliment you to him, and he finds that weird.

He’d been sitting at the table waiting for the others, and William approached him talking about how nice you look today dressed up very fancy like.

“Yeah, I know, I saw their outfit earlier this morning.” He doesn’t really get the fuss about how nice you dress. sometimes he honestly thinks the others are trying to make him jealous by complimenting you to him.

He’s there when you’re creating your outfit for the next day and listens to you rant about how ugly another survivors outfit was that day. Usually while scarfing down a family sized bag of chips.

“You know perhaps I could create your outfit for tomorrow as well, lord knows the last time you washed that jacket!” You say opening his closet. He shrugged shoving another handful of chips. “Go ahead.”

He doesn’t really mind what he wears as long as it’s not super like flamboyant looking. But he’ll wear matching outfits with you, even allow you to do his hair and put accessories on him.

Bonus ! Eli Clark

The first person to compliment you every day. He can recognize how fashionable you are though he doesn't look very stylish.

“This shade looks really nice on you, i can tell you put alot of thought into it!” He tries to make it sound like hes very informed about fashion.

When putting on a new costume for the first time your always the first person who sees it so you get to remove the ‘ugly’ looking accessories or what-nots

He tries to be with you when your creating a new outfit look but sometimes he likes the surprise of seeing you with everyone else at breakfast. He has no shame complimenting you infront of the others.

When making Eli look more stylish you always make sure the material of the outfit you picked is something his owl wouldn’t mind.

I did struggle with Eli’s part I didnt know what to put but I still wanted to include him!!! Hopefully whoever requested this likes it :] !Not proofread!

[bucksanklescrews]

car shopping- e.b. x fem!reader

Warnings: None, pregnant!reader, fluff

"I'm not driving a minivan," Evan said, his voice stern, but a hint of amusement still shined through.

You ran a hand over your bump. "Jesus, Buck, how many of them do you think are in here?"

Evan chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you with that familiar mix of affection and playful defiance. "I don’t care if it’s one or five, I’m not trading in the Jeep for a minivan."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you ran a hand over your growing bump. “Come on, Buck, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? It’s not like we’re starting a soccer team.”

He grinned, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest. “I’m just saying, this Jeep has been with me through a lot. I’m not ready to swap it out for something... practical.”

"I said practical, which means a Jeep that doesn't stutter when it starts-"

"I made an appointment for it next week!"

You placed a hand on your hip. "And what about the appointment last week?"

He sighed, knowing you had a point. Despite all the love and care he had poured into maintaining his Jeep over the years—new tires, a well-kept motor, and a slightly faded paint job that he swore added character—it was clear that the old Jeep was reaching the end of its life. It had racked up miles and had started showing signs of wear, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Sure, his car had been fine before, but now that you were expecting, the last thing you wanted was to worry about Buck and your little angel stalling at an intersection or, worse, being stranded somewhere.

Evan ran a hand through his hair, the reluctance in his eyes giving way to a resigned sigh. “Alright, I’ll look at new cars... but I’m not making any promises.”

You smiled, knowing it was the best you were going to get from him. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Car shopping turned out to be more of a challenge than either of you anticipated. Every car seemed to have something wrong with it—too worn, too expensive, too small, too impractical. The first dealership was a bust, with Buck dismissing every option the salesman showed him. The second one wasn’t any better, with Buck complaining about the lack of character in the newer models. By the time you reached the sixth dealership, you were starting to lose hope.

Then you spotted it—another Jeep, practically identical to his. It was a little newer, with fewer miles on it, and in good condition. For a moment, you thought this might be the one. Buck approached the Jeep, his eyes lighting up as he inspected it closely. He ran his hand over the hood, checked the tires, and even peeked inside the cabin.

You watched him, hopeful that this could be it. But as the salesman approached to seal the deal, you noticed the look on Buck’s face. The excitement had faded, replaced by something more subdued. He thanked the salesman politely, but instead of heading back inside to discuss numbers, he started walking back to your car.

You followed him, your heart sinking a little. “Evan?”

He glanced back at the Jeep, then at you. “It’s just... it’s not the same, you know? It doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, understanding where he was coming from. “I get it, Buck. But we need something reliable, something safe. For all of us.”

He nodded, though you could see the reluctance still lingering in his eyes. “I know. It’s just hard to let go.”

You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find something that feels right, I promise. But maybe it doesn’t have to be another Jeep. Maybe it’s time for something new.”

Buck considered your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

As your due date approached, just over a week away, the anticipation was palpable. You sighed, flipping through yet another car catalog, this one featuring used cars being sold directly by their owners. Your hand absentmindedly rested on your bump as you turned the pages, glancing over sedans and SUVs, none of which seemed to stand out.

But then, you spotted it. Another Jeep, just a few shades darker than his current car. It had low miles and was moderately priced, a rare find that immediately caught your attention. You smiled to yourself, thinking maybe this was it, the compromise between nostalgia and practicality. You turned the catalog towards Buck, who was sitting next to you on the couch, and pointed it out.

“Look at this one,” you said, your voice laced with hope. “It’s just like yours, but with way fewer miles. What do you think?”

Buck’s eyes lit up for a second as he took in the image, the familiar look of excitement flashing across his face. But then, just as quickly, he seemed to hesitate, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s nice,” he admitted, nodding appreciatively. “But... I already found something.”

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh? And when were you planning on telling me?”

Buck chuckled, pulling out his phone. “I was going to surprise you, but since we’re on the topic...”

He scrolled through his photos, searching for something specific. You watched him curiously, wondering what he had found. Finally, he stopped on a picture and handed the phone to you.

The image on the screen was of a new Jeep, a different color from his current one but still unmistakably in the same spirit. It was slightly newer, with a sleeker design, but it still had that rugged, adventurous look that Buck loved so much.

“I saw it when we were on a call,” Buck explained, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and nostalgia. “It was parked on the street, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off it. I jotted down the number before we left, and I went back to see it with Eddie before heading home.”

You looked at the photo, then back at Buck, and couldn’t help but smile. There was something endearing about the way he was so attached to his Jeep, and yet willing to find something new that still honored the old.

“You really like it, don’t you?” you asked softly.

Buck nodded, his eyes twinkling with a mix of excitement and a touch of sentimentality. “Yeah, I do. It’s not exactly the same, but it feels right, you know? Like it’s time for something new, but it still reminds me of the old one.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you found something you love, Buck. And if you’re happy with it, then I am too.”

He smiled, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close, his hand resting protectively over your bump. “Thanks, babe. I know it’s silly, but this Jeep... it means a lot.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and love between you both. “It’s not silly at all. It’s a big change, and I’m glad you found something that feels right.”

As you sat there together, the car catalog forgotten on the coffee table, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. The Jeep was just a car, but it symbolized so much more—moving forward, making room for new memories, and embracing the future together as a family.

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 9

SUMMARY: Jake Seresin has been trying to take you home from The Hard Deck for a while. However, there's always been something holding you back. A secret that you can't stand the thought of revealing to him. But when he finally gets you to tell him your secret, his reaction is anything but what you expect. And he lets down the "Hangman" persona you've come to know and you see the softer side of Jake.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't know why but I just feel like Jake would be super soft and sweet with you if it was your first time. Sure he's experienced, but he's going to make sure that it's all about you and making you feel good.

PROMPT: "Do you want to take it off or should I do it for you?"

KINK: First Time

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (Simple P in V.)

WORD COUNT: 6.6k

TAG LIST: TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The Hard Deck was quieter than usual, the lively chatter and music of the jukebox fading as the night went on. Most of the regulars had already left as it was ten minutes to closing time. Penny had just waved her goodbyes, her voice playful as she teased Jake, telling him not to give you any trouble. You smiled at her back as she disappeared out the door, then went back to cleaning up behind the bar.

Jake leaned against it, watching you with that familiar, teasing glint in his green eyes. You were used to the way his gaze followed you, but tonight it felt heavier somehow—more focused. Maybe because there weren’t any distractions or anyone else vying for his attention now that closing time was here.

"You never stop, do you?" His voice was low, amused, cutting through the quiet.

You rolled your eyes, wiping down the bar one last time, trying to ignore the way Jake’s eyes followed you. You looked up from wiping down the counter. 

"Someone's gotta clean up after you guys," you shot back with a smirk.

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, but you know I don’t think that’s the only reason you stay late."

You felt the familiar warmth bloom in your chest, the kind that always came when he said things like that. His charm was effortless, but you’d spent months brushing it off. Well, most of the time. Lately, you weren’t so good at it. Because despite the cocky persona, you were starting to see something more beneath it—something softer, more genuine. And that scared you.

Because even though you liked him—maybe more than you cared to admit—there was one thing you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him.

You shot him a look, half playful, half warning, as you tossed the towel onto the counter. "I mean this is my job and I have to stay until closing no matter what. But…humor moe. What’s that supposed to mean?"

He leaned forward on his elbows, his grin widening. "Just that we both know you don’t mind me hanging around."

Your heart fluttered despite yourself, but you forced a smirk. "You always got a line ready, huh?"

"I don’t need lines with you, sweetheart. I think you know that."

You let out a breath and shook your head, feeling your heart race. "You should get going, Seresin. Penny might’ve been joking, but I’m not in the mood to deal with you tonight."

Jake smirked, but there was a gentleness in his gaze. "Or you could stop pushing me away, darlin'. It's been months, and I think we both know this little game of yours is starting to wear thin." His words were soft, but there was no mistaking the desire behind them.

Before you could respond, Jake walked around the bar. You felt your pulse quicken as he crossed the threshold, coming into your space—so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. He didn’t touch you right away, just stood there, eyes tracing your face as if memorizing every detail.

"Jake," you breathed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out softer than you intended.

He was standing so close now that you had to tilt your head back slightly to look up at him. His eyes, those piercing green eyes, locked onto yours, and you felt the tension building, thickening the air between you.

He leaned down, his face inches from yours. "Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with desire.

You swallowed, heart racing, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you let the moment hang there, the pull between you undeniable. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you sucked in a breath, torn between wanting to push him away and pull him closer.

"I should—" you started, but the words faltered as he stepped closer, his body now inches from yours.

"You should what?" Jake whispered, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Keep pushing me away? Or finally let me in?"

His hand slid down to your waist, his thumb grazing the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was such a small touch, but it sent heat flooding through you. You had been playing this game with him for months—keeping him at arm’s length, pretending his advances didn’t affect you. But here, now, in this quiet moment with the bar empty and the lights low, you could feel your resolve slipping.

Jake tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Stop pretending you don’t feel this too."

And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could find another excuse to push him away, you surged forward, closing the distance between you. Your lips met his in a heated, desperate kiss, months of tension spilling over all at once.

Jake wasted no time, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you flush against him. His lips were warm, demanding, and you matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, wanting more, needing more. It was as if all the weeks of flirting and teasing had built up to this moment, and now that the dam had broken, neither of you could hold back.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jake rested his forehead against yours, his voice rough. "Let me take you home tonight."

Your heart was racing as Jake’s words hung between you. Let me take you home tonight. His voice was thick with desire, and his forehead was still resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

But as the reality of what he was asking set in, a rush of nerves flooded through you. You pulled back slightly, creating space between your bodies. Jake immediately noticed the shift, his brows knitting together in confusion as you stepped away.

“Why do you keep pulling away from me?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of frustration and concern. 

His hand remained on your waist, though gentler now, as if he was afraid you’d slip away entirely.

You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the words were stuck in your throat. 

He waited, watching you carefully, his expression softening as he searched your face for an answer.

“I don’t… I don’t do that,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake frowned, clearly misunderstanding. “What, a one-night stand?” His lips quirked into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Darlin’, I’ve been chasing you for months. This isn’t just some one-time thing.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. He wasn’t playing around, and you knew it. But that wasn’t what this was about. You looked away, biting your lip as you tried to find the courage to say what had been weighing on you all this time.

He tilted your chin up gently, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Talk to me,” he urged, his voice low but patient. “What’s going on?”

You swallowed hard, the vulnerability of the moment making you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. The tension between you had always been playful, teasing, but this… this was different. This was real. And the fear of disappointing him was almost overwhelming.

“Jake…” You hesitated, the words thick on your tongue. “I’ve never been with anyone. In that way.”

The weight of your confession hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of how he might react. But when you finally dared to glance up, you saw something unexpected in his eyes.

There was no judgment. No disappointment. Just understanding.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, grounding you as he took a step closer. “You mean you’re—?”

“A virgin,” you finished for him, your voice barely a whisper.

Jake exhaled softly, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed what you’d said. Then, to your surprise, he let out a small, almost incredulous laugh—though it wasn’t mocking. It was more like he couldn’t believe the situation. “You thought that’d make me walk away?”

“I just thought…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. The truth was, you didn’t know what you had expected. Maybe that he’d see you as some kind of challenge, or that he’d decide it wasn’t worth it. “You’re… you. And I know you’ve been with… other people.”

Jake’s smile softened as he shook his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Yeah, I’ve been with other people. But none of them were you.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender, reassuring kiss. “You think I’ve been showing up at this bar every night just for fun? I’m not here for a fling. I’m here because I want you.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. It was so easy to get caught up in your own insecurities, to assume that someone like Jake wouldn’t want you once he knew the truth. But he was still here, still holding you close, as if none of that mattered.

“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for,” Jake said softly, his hand sliding down to lace his fingers with yours. “But if you’ll let me… I’ll talk you through it. We’ll take it slow.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, and for the first time that night, the nervousness you’d been feeling started to ease. Jake wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pressuring you. He was offering you a choice.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “You’d do that?”

Jake’s smile widened, his green eyes softening. “Darlin’, I’d do anything for you.”

As you and Jake finished closing up the bar, the familiar clinking of glasses and the faint scent of spilled beer lingered in the air. You wiped down the last countertop while Jake stacked chairs, a comfortable silence enveloping the space. But the excitement and nerves bubbling inside you felt electric.

Once the last light was turned off and the door was locked, you stepped out into the cool night air, glancing over at Jake. He stood beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, his casual demeanor making him seem effortlessly charming.

You turned to him, your stomach fluttering with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. “So… what happens now?” You felt a bit awkward asking, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

Jake’s smile was warm and genuine, lighting up his green eyes. “Well, we could go to my place or yours. Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

His suggestion sent another thrill of excitement through you. “I think I’d feel better at your place,” you admitted, recalling the warmth and safety of the last time you were there. “My roommate is home.”

Jake nodded, a knowing look on his face. “That’s cool. I actually got a ride here, so if you don’t mind driving…?”

“Not at all,” you replied, leading the way to your car, your heart racing with the prospect of what the night might hold.

Once inside, you fished your phone out of your bag and shot a quick text to your roommate, letting her know you wouldn’t be home tonight. Just as you hit send, her response buzzed through, and you groaned at the barrage of messages that followed.

Your car’s Bluetooth connected automatically, and suddenly, your roommate’s messages began to read out loud in the car. 

“‘Where are you? Who are you with? Are you with the sexy blond pilot from Texas you’ve been talking about?’”

“Are you serious?” you muttered under your breath.

You rolled your eyes, your face flushing with embarrassment as Jake chuckled beside you. “So, am I the sexy blond pilot from Texas you’ve been talking about? Or is there someone else I should know about?”

“Yes, you are,” you admitted, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if you were flustered or exhilarated, the thrill of the moment mingling with your nervousness.

Jake grinned, a teasing glint in his eye. “I like that title. It has a nice ring to it.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, you couldn’t help but glance at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He was relaxed, leaning back against the seat, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don’t worry. I promise not to embarrass you too much in front of your roommate when I meet her.”

You glance over for a second. The “when I meet her” is not being lost on you. He was so confident that this was something more than it seemed like it was. That there would be more times he went home with you. That there would be a point where you introduce him to your friends.

“It’s kind of cute how you get all flustered.”

“Cute?” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, though it was a little breathy. “Is that really the word you want to use right now?”

Jake shrugged, his smirk only growing wider. “What can I say? I’m a fan of cute.”

As you drove through the dimly lit streets, the tension in the car shifted to a more comfortable vibe. You found yourself stealing glances at him, his profile silhouetted against the glow of the dashboard lights, and every now and then, your eyes would meet.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his gaze steady on you, the question sincere.

“Just… this feels surreal,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I didn’t think I’d ever actually go home with someone, especially not someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” he echoed, pretending to be hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, charming, flirtatious, with a history of one-night stands,” you teased, though your heart raced as you said it.

“I’m more than just my reputation, you know.” Jake let out a chuckle, leaning closer as he turned his body toward you. “I promise I won’t be that guy tonight.”

You appreciated his earnestness, and it eased some of your nerves. “What guy are you going to be then?”

“The guy who’s crazy about you,” he said softly, the sincerity of his words hitting you like a warm wave.

You glanced away, your heart pounding, the weight of his confession sinking in. The rest of the drive passed in a comfortable silence, the city lights flashing by as you felt the promise of something more lingering in the air. The only time either of you spoke was when Jake would give you directions on where to turn to get to his off-base apartment.

As you approached his apartment complex, you parked the car and turned off the engine, the moment hanging between you. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for whatever came next.

Jake reached over and gently squeezed your hand, his touch sending warmth through you. “You okay?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze, the tension palpable. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Let’s take it slow, alright?”

As you stepped into Jake's apartment, the familiar warmth and coziness wrapped around you like a hug. The low light from a few strategically placed lamps bathed the space in a golden glow, and the faint scent of cologne lingered in the air. It felt inviting, and for a moment, the nervous energy that had been building since you left The Hard Deck began to dissipate.

Jake closed the door behind you and gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself at home. Want something to drink?”

You glanced around, taking in the soft, comfortable furnishings and the scattered remnants of his life—a few books on the coffee table, a framed picture of him and his fellow pilots, and a small plant in the corner that added a splash of green. “Sure, um… what do you have?” you asked, a hint of nervousness creeping back into your voice.

“Beer, water, or I think I might have some whiskey,” he replied, flashing a playful smile. “I could also make us some fancy cocktails if you’re feeling adventurous.”

You chuckled softly. “I’ll stick with beer for now. I think my nerves could use something familiar.”

“Good choice,” he said, moving toward the small kitchen area, and you followed, taking a seat on the couch. The soft cushions cradled you, a welcome comfort. As he grabbed two cold beers from the fridge, you noticed the way his muscles flexed, the effortless grace with which he moved.

He returned, handing you a bottle and plopping down beside you. “So, what do you want to watch?” He reached for the remote, casually leaning back against the couch, his proximity both comforting and electrifying.

You took a sip of your beer, grateful for the momentary distraction. “I’m not picky. What do you usually watch?”

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m a sucker for anything with explosions, but I guess I could put on something less intense for you.”

“Maybe something funny?” you suggested, smiling. “I could use a good laugh right now.”

“Alright, let’s see what we can find,” he replied, scrolling through the options before settling on a comedy special. The familiar sound of laughter filled the room, and as you settled back, you felt the tension begin to ease away.

As the comedy special played on, you found yourself laughing at the jokes, the atmosphere gradually shifting from tense to relaxed. You both exchanged playful banter, the conversation flowing easily between you as you started to feel more at ease.

Jake made a few jokes that had you in stitches, and it felt refreshing to be with someone who made you laugh so easily. The sound of his laughter was infectious, and soon you were both caught up in a lighthearted exchange.

At one point, he leaned closer, his body angled toward yours, and you caught the warmth of his gaze. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few months,” he said, his voice softening, sincerity spilling over the humor. “You’re not like other girls I’ve met.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “You’re real. You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. I like that.”

A small blush crept across your cheeks at his compliment. “Thanks, I guess,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his gaze on you.

The air between you crackled with an undeniable tension, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to Jake. He maintained a patient silence, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for a cue. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

After a moment, you gathered your courage, leaning in just slightly, your breath hitching as you closed the distance. Jake's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

When your lips finally met, it felt electric. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, but as you melted against him, the softness deepened into something more passionate. Jake’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he responded to your kiss with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine.

You lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the world outside fading into oblivion. The kiss was everything you had imagined—sweet, thrilling, and filled with an unspoken promise.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found Jake watching you with a mix of admiration and desire in his eyes. 

“Wow,” he murmured, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t think you could get any cuter.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his compliment, but the warmth of his body against yours was urging you to take things further. “Maybe we should… do something else,” you suggested your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smile widened, and without hesitation, he stood, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he said, leading you toward his bedroom.

The moment you stepped inside, you felt a rush of anticipation. The room was dimly lit, with a warm glow emanating from a bedside lamp. It felt safe and intimate, the perfect setting for what was about to unfold.

Jake turned to you, his expression serious yet inviting. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, as if he were afraid to push you too far too fast.

You nodded, feeling more confident now that you were here with him. “I am,” you replied, your heart racing with excitement. “I want to be with you.”

He closed the space between you, cupping your face in his hands. “Then let’s take it slow, okay?”

You smiled at him, grateful for his understanding. He leaned in, capturing your lips again in a heated kiss. His hands roamed your back, sending sparks of electricity through your skin, as you melted into him. You could feel the intensity of his desire mirrored in your own, and it filled you with a sense of exhilaration.

With a gentle nudge, Jake led you to the bed, sitting you down as he knelt in front of you. He took a moment to look up at you, his green eyes filled with warmth and something deeper—something that made your heart race.

“Are you really okay with this?” he asked again, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

You reached for him, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “I am,” you assured him, your heart swelling with affection. “Just… be gentle with me.”

“Always,” he promised, leaning in to kiss you softly, a world of emotion wrapped up in that one gesture.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours, and the weight of your nervousness slowly began to lift. Jake’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you as he joined you on the bed, settling beside you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and inviting.

A wave of heat washed over you at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied shyly, the chemistry between you undeniable.

As the kiss deepened, a surge of confidence coursed through you. With a newfound boldness, your hands slid down Jake's chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it fueled your desire. As you pushed his shirt up, Jake paused, letting you take the lead for just a moment longer.

With a playful smile, he pulled away just enough to shed the shirt completely, revealing his toned torso. Your breath hitched at the sight, and his green eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and admiration.

His hands moved to your shirt next, fingers gently grazing your skin as he looked into your eyes, searching for your consent. “Do you want to take it off, or should I do it for you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach, a thrill at being so vulnerable yet completely safe with him. “You can do it,” you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart.

With a smile that sent warmth pooling in your chest, Jake carefully lifted your shirt, baring your skin inch by inch. His touch was gentle, and you reveled in the sensation of being exposed to him. Once your shirt was off, he leaned down, kissing a trail down your neck, shoulders, and collarbones, sending shivers through you.

The warmth of his breath against your skin sent waves of anticipation through you. With a deep breath, you caught him off guard by whispering, “I want more.”

Without missing a beat, Jake’s lips found yours again, igniting a fire that burned brighter than before. His hands moved with purpose, exploring your body as he trailed kisses down your chest, pausing to pay attention to every sensitive spot. The way he worshipped your skin made you feel cherished and desired all at once.

With each kiss, your confidence grew, and the nervousness that once lingered began to fade into exhilaration. You melted into him, losing yourself in the sensation of his warmth against you.

Jake’s kisses ignited every nerve ending in your body, and you responded instinctively, arching into him as he continued his exploration. His hands moved expertly, caressing your skin and pulling you closer, as if trying to fuse your bodies into one.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone, and the way he looked at you, with such intensity and reverence, made you feel like the only person in the world.

Feeling emboldened, you reached out, your fingers grazing his jawline before tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you captured his lips once more. The kiss was fervent, passionate, and filled with the promise of everything that was yet to come.

With a playful glint in his eye, Jake pulled back just slightly, his breath hot against your lips. “Just so you know,” he said, a teasing smirk on his face, “this is definitely not a one-time thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling lighter, more alive than ever. “I’m glad,” you replied, your heart swelling with anticipation for what the night had in store.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the heat between you both intensifying. Jake's hands moved with a mix of urgency and tenderness as he helped you slide out of the rest of your clothes. Each piece of fabric that fell away felt like a barrier dissolving, but as you lay fully exposed before him, a wave of shyness washed over you. The vulnerability was overwhelming, and your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Jake noticed the change in your demeanor, the way your confidence seemed to flicker just for a moment. With a gentle smile, he leaned over to grab a blanket from the edge of the bed, pulling it up over both of you, as if to cocoon you in warmth and comfort. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes filled with reassurance, “you’re stunning. Just take a deep breath.”

You glanced at him, his presence grounding you even as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. His gaze was warm, filled with a mix of desire and admiration, and it helped ease some of your nerves. But there was still the matter of the not-so-fun conversation to be had.

“Okay, we should talk about… you know,” Jake said, his voice a little more serious as he leaned back slightly, creating a little space. “Protection.”

You nodded, feeling your heart race in a different way now. “I’m on the pill,” you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. “But I’d prefer it if you wore a condom too.”

Jake’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “Absolutely,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone. “Better safe than sorry.” He leaned over to his nightstand, opening the drawer and retrieving a condom.

You watched as he slid it on with practiced ease, the action both intimate and reassuring. It reminded you that despite the heat of the moment, he was still focused on your comfort and safety.

Once he was ready, he turned back to you, the blanket still wrapped around your bodies. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease, the warmth of the blanket and his presence enveloping you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… a little nervous.”

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s completely normal. We can take this as slow as you need.”

With that, the nervous tension began to ebb away, replaced by the gentle caress of anticipation. Jake shifted closer, his body warm against yours beneath the blanket. You could feel his heart beating in rhythm with yours, a comforting reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

“Just tell me what you want, and I’ll follow your lead,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any signs of hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded again, feeling the warmth of his gaze on you. “I want you,” you whispered, your voice steady now.

A grin broke out on Jake’s face, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Then let’s make this a night to remember,” he replied, his tone a mix of excitement and reverence.

With that, he closed the space between you, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one slow and deliberate. The world outside faded away, and in that moment, it was just you and Jake, ready to explore the depth of your connection together.

As Jake positioned himself at your entrance, a rush of anticipation coursed through you. He paused, looking deeply into your eyes, searching for any signs of uncertainty. With a gentle nod from you, he began to slide himself inside you, inch by inch.

The initial sensation was unfamiliar, but it wasn’t painful; instead, it felt like a warm, fulfilling stretch, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Your breath hitched as he moved slowly, allowing you to adjust to this new intimacy. Jake’s lips found your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering sweet nothings that made your heart race even faster.

“Just breathe, okay? I’ve got you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with awe.

You nodded, feeling his warmth envelop you, both physically and emotionally. With each gentle thrust, he slid deeper, filling you completely. The rhythm he established was deliberate, slow, and tender, letting you savor every sensation.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, his green gaze intense and sincere.

“It feels… good,” you breathed out, the words escaping before you could second-guess yourself. 

A smile spread across his face, his confidence mingling with genuine affection. “That’s all I want. Just want to make you feel good. You just tell me if you want me to go faster or if you want me to slow down.”

You shook your head, feeling more confident with every soft thrust. “No, just… keep going.”

Encouraged by your words, Jake adjusted his position slightly, finding a deeper angle. The pleasure built steadily, warmth pooling in your core as he moved. Each gentle thrust sent waves of sensation coursing through you, the connection between your bodies deepening with every moment.

He continued to whisper to you, his voice a mix of reassurance and desire. “You’re doing amazing. Just like that. You’re perfect.”

Jake’s kisses traveled back to your lips, capturing your mouth again in a heated kiss that ignited the spark between you even further. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, as if he wanted to envelop you completely.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer as you felt yourself responding to his rhythm, instinctively moving with him. The sensation of his skin against yours ignited every nerve ending, making you gasp softly between kisses.

“You’re incredible,” Jake murmured, his voice husky and filled with admiration.

His words sent a thrill down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the sensations he was creating, the warmth radiating from where you were joined. You focused on your breathing, allowing each inhale and exhale to synchronize with his movements, feeling the heat pooling in your core grow more intense.

“Jake,” you whispered, the name barely escaping your lips. You felt more vulnerable than ever, yet there was a thrill in that vulnerability, a trust in the way he held you, as if he were cherishing you.

With a gentle movement, he shifted his angle, and suddenly a wave of pleasure surged through you, almost overwhelming in its intensity. You gasped, feeling the unfamiliar sensation build higher and higher within you.

“Did you like that?” he teased, his breath warm against your neck. He began to pick up his pace, the urgency in his movements matching the rising tide of pleasure. 

You could only nod, too lost in the moment to find the words.

“Good,” he breathed, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “I want you to feel everything, to let it all in.”

As he continued to move inside you, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer, silently urging him to keep going.

“You can let go, baby. Just enjoy it,” he encouraged his voice a steady anchor amidst the rising waves of pleasure.

And let go you did. You surrendered to the sensations, allowing each thrust to send you higher and higher, the world outside becoming a blur as you focused solely on the feeling of him inside you, filling you, moving with you.

Your breaths came in shorter gasps, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening deep within you, the unmistakable sign of your impending climax. 

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the pleasure, but Jake seemed to sense your body’s reactions.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours for permission. “I want to see you let go.”

With a final, desperate thrust, that wave crashed over you, enveloping you in ecstasy. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room as the world exploded in colors behind your closed eyelids.

Jake followed you, his movements becoming more erratic as he found his release, his body tensing above you, his eyes locked onto yours. In that shared moment of bliss, everything fell away—the doubts, the worries, and the fears—all that existed was the two of you, intertwined in a dance of passion and vulnerability.

As you both rode the waves of pleasure down, Jake collapsed beside you, pulling you close, his heart racing in time with yours. You nestled into him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

“Wow,” he finally breathed, his voice still thick with disbelief. “That was… incredible.”

You chuckled softly, still catching your breath. “Yeah, it was.”

Jake stroked your hair gently, his fingers weaving through the strands. “You okay?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

You nodded, looking up to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I am. More than okay, actually.”

A smile spread across his face, a mixture of relief and delight. “Good. Because that was just the beginning.”

After disposing of the condom, Jake crawled back into bed, the sheets cool against his skin. He noticed you instinctively covering yourself with the blanket, a hint of shyness creeping in after the intense connection you had just shared.

With a soft chuckle, he quickly rummaged through his dresser, retrieving a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

“Hey,” he called out gently, “you might want to get comfy.” He tossed the clothes toward you, a playful grin on his face.

You caught the shirt and pants, a smile tugging at your lips as you slipped into the bathroom. After changing, you took a moment to compose yourself. The lingering sensations from earlier sent butterflies swirling in your stomach, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You glanced at your reflection, a mix of exhilaration and disbelief washing over you.

When you finally stepped out, you found Jake lying in bed, now wearing a pair of sweatpants and leaning back against the headboard, his phone in hand. 

His eyes lit up the moment he saw you. “There you are,” he said, grinning. “Looking good.”

You felt the warmth spread across your cheeks at his compliment. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice soft as you moved to the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath your fingers.

There was a confidence radiating off him like a warm glow. “How are you feeling?” he asked genuine concern in his gaze.

“Still processing, I think,” you admitted, shifting slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket pooling around your legs. “But… I’m really happy.”

He smiled at that, his expression softening. “Good. You should be. That was amazing.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break free. “It was,” you agreed, glancing down at your hands for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but…”

“But?” he prompted, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity piqued.

“But it was better than I ever imagined,” you finished, feeling a rush of honesty.

Jake’s smile widened, and he scooted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours. “I’m glad to hear that. You deserve to feel that way, you know?” He paused, his voice turning serious. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you at his words. “I know. I trust you,” you said softly, searching his gaze for any sign of doubt. But all you found was sincerity.

“Good,” he replied, his tone lightening again. “So, what do you want to do now? We could order food, watch something ridiculous on TV, or just talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the options. “Food sounds good,” you said, feeling your stomach rumble in agreement.

“Alright,” he said, leaning back against the headboard with a playful smirk. “I’ll let you pick. Just know, if you choose pineapple on pizza, I might have to reevaluate our relationship.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “No pineapple, I promise.”

“Whew,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if he had been spared from a terrible fate. “That’s a relief.”

As you reached for your phone to look up menus, you felt the tension from earlier dissolve into the comfortable atmosphere around you. You couldn’t shake the feeling of warmth and safety that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

You exchanged jokes and light-hearted banter, the air filled with laughter. It felt easy, the way it always had, but now there was an added layer of intimacy that made your heart race every time his hand brushed against yours.

“Alright, I think I found a place,” you said, finally breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. “How about tacos? They have really good ones.”

Jake nodded, looking pleased. “Tacos it is. But you have to promise me we’ll get dessert afterward.”

“Deal,” you agreed, your stomach fluttering again, both from the food and the closeness of him beside you.

After placing the order, you settled back into the bed, leaning against Jake as he grabbed the remote. With a few clicks, the TV flickered to life, a mindless comedy playing in the background as you both relaxed.

Every so often, he would glance at you, a soft smile on his face as he made jokes about the show. You could feel the chemistry between you, the tension of the night slowly morphing into something warm and comforting, as if you were both basking in the aftermath of what had just unfolded.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Devil Wears Armani 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re the CEO’s new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

—posting to the correct blog lol—

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The appletini at girls' night does little to ease you through a restless night. You’re not a traveller. You’ve never flown before. The only reason you have a passport is it was required for the job. You didn’t expect to actually use it. 

You give into consciousness around 3am and double check your bag for everything you need. You forego your usual coffee as you fear an anxious bladder adding to your addled state. You still can’t figure out why Mr. Stark told you to come along. You don’t have anything blocked into his calendar. He’s had weekend meetings before but you usually pop into zoom to take notes and nothing else. 

You spare the fare for a cab as the streetcar isn’t in service yet and you don’t feel like venturing into the underground at this hour. The ride is swift in the dead streets of the city. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them so empty. 

You arrive at the airport and realise you’re missing a very important piece. A boarding pass? Terminal information? Any sort of direction to find where you need to be. Well, it never hurts to ask for help even if you don’t get it. 

You enter and go to the counter. The woman behind it looks tired as dark rings stain her sockets and she fixes her smile to greet you. You nervously clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. 

“Hi, I... I’m supposed to be flying, er, private? I work for Tony Stark?” You creak out through your dry throat. You need water. 

“Mr. Stark?” She lowers her brow, “do you have proof of employment?” 

“Erm, yeah,” you unhook your keyring from your purse and shove it towards her. Your company ID is hooked onto the cluster of novelty attachments and keys. 

“I need to make a call,” she says as she examines your identification. 

Great. 

You bob nervously on the other side of the counter as the attendant speaks quietly into the speaker. Your phone buzzes and you jingle the keys as you find it. Stark has sent you a simple message; ‘Terminal 1, tarmac. Now.’ 

As you peek up over the counter, the woman hangs up. “You need to head up to Terminal 1. Find an employee there, in a white shirt like mine, and show them this.” She kits a few keys and her printer grinds with great effort. She hands you a boarding pass but most of it is empty. There’s only a code at the bottom. 

You thank her and head off. You scramble through security, walking through the scanner as your bag rides the conveyor through and x-ray. You retrieve your things on the other side and run off to reach Mr. Stark before he gets too impatient. He’s probably already agitated. 

You check your watch. It’s only 5:01am. You’re on time, right? 

You follow the signs to terminal one and find a large man standing by a ramp entrance. You approach him and show him the pass. He points you to another employee at the far end as he talks over his walkie talkie to them. You cross the tiled floor to meet the man and he beckons you towards another ramp. 

You’re led down to the tarmac and left to shuffle across it on your own. You’re only told to approach big jet waiting by a tower set of stairs. There’s an attendant at the bottom who greets your brightly and you show the pass again.  

“Mr. Stark is expecting you. May I take your bag?” She offers. 

“No thank, I can handle it,” you nod and lift the bag off its wheels. 

You climb a stair at a time and pass another attendant at the top. She directs you to leave your bag in the front carriage and you roll it behind the wall of webbing there. You turn to the ivory curtain and peek through tentatively. The movement of fabric draws Mr. Stark’s gaze from his phone. 

“Get in here,” he demands, “about time, George. I was about to fall asleep.” 

You push through and near him, “sir, did you need coffee?” 

“They got the long-legged ones for that,” he waves away your offer with his lecherous allusion to the pretty, tall attendants. “Sit.” 

You look at the chair on the other side of the table, across from him, and you hesitate. You lower yourself into the cushy seat and cross one leg over the other, your foot bouncing anxiously. You clutch your hands together and stare at Mr. Stark. 

“You look tired as hell,” he cackles. 

“Sir, it’s early.” 

“Ah, don’t let that ruin an all-inclusive. Tell me, Georgie, a girl like you, are you jet-setting every weekend? You got billionaires flying you to the Caribbean on the reg? Didn’t think you were the popular type.” 

“No, sir, I--” you try not to wince at his insinuation. You are all too aware that you’re on the bottom rung of the ladder he sits atop of. “Thank you for this. It’s very nice of you to bring me along.” 

“You are very welcome,” he says smugly, “move.” 

He points to the seat next to him. 

“Oh, uh,” you pull your hands apart and push yourself up with the armrests, “sorry.” 

He grunts, irritated, and signals with two fingers. As an attendant approaches, you sidle around the table and in front of Stark to get to the other seat. You feel a brush on your thigh but ignore it. It’s a tight squeeze.  

He asks for an espresso as you lower yourself down. He reaches over and pinches the fabric of your pants, just at the top of your knee. He sniffs. 

“This isn’t very Caribbean-friendly. You’re gonna sweat your tits off,” he derides. 

You try not to show your embarrassment, ignoring the urge to cover your chest at his comment. Out of habit, you put on your usual attire. A cardigan, a tidy blouse, and slacks. He huffs again and tugs at the sleeve of your cardigan. 

“Get rid of this,” he demands. 

“Oh, uh...” You sit forward as you undo the single button and you shrug out of the wool. He swipes it away and tosses it on the floor.  

The attendant returns with his espresso and gathers up your cardigan as you send her an apologetic look. Stark takes his coffee and tastes it before setting it on the table. He turns to you and clucks again. You let out a squeak as he reaches to pop the top button of your blouse, then the next. You flatten yourself to the seat helplessly. 

“Better, gotta let those things breathe,” he winks and sits back with a smirk.