#Your on your own kid. Yeah you can face this. Your on your own kid. You always have been.

[leviathanleva]

Caffè Crema

[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]

After months of giving your all to a man you barely even knew, you're finally rewarded. He takes off his mask in front of you almost hesitantly and you're overjoyed. Still, you want to, need to know why and so despite your better judgement, you ask him only to receive a laugh in response.

“Wan’ed you to see what the father of yer kids looks like, Birdie.”

[5.1k words] [Slightly NSFW]

Chapter 3 "Powder"

Simon had expected tension when he’d relied to you the news that he was leaving on deployment soon. But no, you were as chipper as ever, rolling your sleeves instantly and beginning to prepare him for the journey while bombarding him with questions.

It was…different, in a good way. There was no guilt for having to abandon you to fulfill his duty. You were worried, that much was clear, but you didn’t let it bother you enough for him to have to figure out a way to comfort you before leaving.

He was grateful even if he didn’t show it, hoping that the crinkled skin in the corners of his eyes was enough of an indicator.

He stretched lazily on your small couch, feet tucked under your bum as per your usual arrangement, while you absentmindedly folded his freshly washed clothes back into his duffle bag. A random sports channel is playing on the telly, drowning out the silence while he watches you fuss with a shadow of a smile hidden under his mask.

A pile of dry laundry was splayed over the armrest you were leaning against and you plucked each piece with the utmost care, looking over it for any spots that the washing machine hadn’t been able to get rid of before laying into his bag.

“Is this a bullet hole?” You murmur to yourself while looking over a gray knitted blouse, particularly at the edge of one sleeve where the stitching was ruined. You run your thumb over the hole, brows furrowing as you inspect it, then turn to Ghost with a small frown. “There’s a bullet hole in this one. You wanna keep it?”

When he realizes your question is targeted at him, he blinks away the thoughts swirling in his head and shrugs.

“Keep i’, adds character.”

You snort, but fold it regardless and stuff it with the rest of his clothes.

A distant whistling erupts from the kitchen and you stand to dust off the lint from your sweats before scurrying to get the kettle. It doesn’t take long before you reemerge with two steaming mugs in each hand and set one before him on the coffee table. He grumbles out a thank you while sitting up and tugging his mouth free from his mask.

Back tea with milk, just how he likes it, piping hot in a mug big enough for him to comfortably wrap his hand around.

“Gonna make a real good missus.” Ghost murmurs out casually and picks up the mug before taking a prolonged sip and letting his eyelids close at the familiar flavor.

“Yeah? Well, you’d make an awful husband.” You joke, playing along with the innocent understanding that he’s joking and not trying to figure out how to get your ring size without making it obvious. You kick at his knee with your own, a playful smile tugging on your lips. “You never fight with me over anything. Even when I try new cooking recipes off the internet.”

He mulls over your words for a moment, eyes focused on his steaming beverage.

“Didn’ leave no marks on me las’ night. Can complain abou’ tha’.”

“Jesus Christ, Simon.” You gasp and sputter to place a palm over his mouth, thrusting yourself into him as he fights off your flailing hands with ease. “Don’t say such things!”

“Why no’? ‘m just ‘aving a fight with me wife is all.” His teasing doesn’t relent but he lets you press your weight on him and guide him down into the cushions of the sofa. There’s a rumble coming from his chest, a series of snorts as he watches you struggle to keep from becoming completely flustered.

“Oh my God, stop! Stop it!” you’re already a flushed mess, he can feel your face burning from his position beneath you as you fight your wrists free from his loose grip.

“Tryin’a mount me like you did las’ nigh’, Birdie?” His hands come to rest on your waist, the words slipping past him just before you press both your palms against his mouth with a doe-eyed look on your face. He holds you steady, a wolfish smirk making his canines peak beneath his upper lip.

For a moment he thinks your abashed state will hit its limit and you might faint right on the spot, what will the uneven breathing and shaky arms, flared nostrils and quivering bottom lip.

“Shut! Shhh. No more sinful talk. Awful man you are, I’ll never marry you.”

An empty threat that only makes his smirk grow as his chocolate browns twinkle up at you adoringly. It doesn’t cross his mind even for a second that you’re unaware of just how serious he is and how much planning has gone on inside his thick skull over the past few days.

It’s okay, you don’t need to fret over such things, all you need to do is say yes when he finds you a pretty enough ring.

“Gonna behave now, old dog?” You ask and hesitantly free his mouth before settling down on top of him and crossing your arms, a hint of a victorious aura to your puffed-out chest and twitchy smile.

He pats your bum ever so gently and sits up abruptly, causing you to slide into his lap. The power imbalance tips in his favor as soon as he’s looming over you, wide shoulders and muscly arms making you nearly disappear in his embrace. He bumps his nose into yours, head bent down to your level and tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

You swallow thickly, your heart leaping in your throat and staying there as he lingers just on the edge of kissing you. And he’s already pawing at the waistband of your bottoms, greedily trying to slip his thick fingers beyond and toward the comfortable warmth of your sex.

A shiver crawls up your spine and a pleasant tingle settles low in your tummy. Your head snaps towards the digital clock propped above the TV.

“Stop it.” You scold, push him away from sniffling at your neck like a curious wolf and again on his back before slipping out of his lap. “Greedy old dog. I have to go shopping or else you’ll be having fried air with a side of nothing.”

A displeased grumble reaches your ears as you make your way towards the bedroom, intent on changing. You scoff, roll your eyes at your roommate’s childish pouting. Flicking the lights on, you trudge towards your wardrobe, your shared wardrobe although shared was a very generous way of putting it. Aside from a pile of boxers and socks and the occasional black top, there wasn’t much of Simon’s attire.

You wondered if this was all he had while slipping into a pair of jeans, thought over the fact that he did look like a guy who’d be caught dead before going out clothing shopping. It was a sad realization, you made a mental note to buy him some more things when your next paycheck arrived or when he decided to leave another wad of cash on the kitchen counter and label it as rent money.

At least he had a toothbrush, even though with how used and abused it looked, you considered getting him a new one alongside other male toiletries like soap that didn’t smell like wildflowers and shampoo that was a bit less strawberry scented.

After donning a comfy hoodie and walking to the hallway to put on your shoes, you glance at him and see him molding into the couch while his stare is glued to the screen and his brow is visibly lowered in displeasure.

“You can either sulk or you can come with me and get your blood going.” You suggest and straighten up once you’d tied your laces. He didn’t budge, only gave you a side glance. So you try again, more softly this time. “I’d like the company.”

You bat your lashes at him prettily, toss him a girlish smile and coquettishly slip on your jacket and he’s just a man after all, he gets up and pats down his top before joining you.

Coaxing him to do anything was never difficult, all that was needed from you was to look weak and cute and like you’d yield the moment he lumbered over to you. You liked to think you were special and that he wouldn’t bend the knee to just anyone, but then again you hadn’t seen Simon interacting with other people.

Most of your time together, all of your time together, was spent within the confines of your home. Ghost wasn’t one for going out, he was selfish like that, liked you all to himself, and with your attention nowhere else to be set except for him and his needs. You didn’t mind, it was cute in a way. He was needy and touch-starved even if he refused to admit it aloud.

Poor old dog, you’d take good care of him.

Although while you were locking the front door and felt him hook a pinkie finger around yours and lead you down the stairs, you got to thinking. Maybe you were more of a dog than him. You were the one bowing your head to his every wish and did anything you could think of to please him. It was one of your greatest pleasures to slave over him because he’d been so tired and beaten down when you’d first kind of “adopted” him.

Then again, he’d sort of made you adopt him. He’d just brought his things over and hadn’t left. You were certain he would have if you’d just said something, but you never had, you hadn’t confronted him about any of the weird things he’d done so far. Maybe it was too late now or maybe he’d just bury himself between your legs and lap at you until you were near unconscious like the last time he had when you’d seemed displeased. Or maybe he’d actually disappear and never come back and even though you’d known him for a couple of months, something sinisterly painful jabbed at your heart at just the image.

No, this was fine. You were happy to have him. Right…?

The grocery store wasn’t too far away, you could get to it on foot easily. Although something felt off. As you walked down the street with Simon in tow, you noticed the quick, ridged glances you were receiving from people of all kinds of ages. Some of them even made the effort of walking out of your way or taking sharp turns to avoid the two of you.

It was an odd experience, one that also subtly tickled a particular pleasure gland in your brain.

Was this what having a scary dog privilege was like? If so, then you were having the time of your life.

If only people knew what an actual sweetheart your companion was, they’d double over laughing at their first assumptions. But they never would because Ghost was yours.

When you picked up a cart that required both your hands to steer, you felt a tug at your jeans and glanced down to see he had hooked one finger around the belt strap on your side. You offer him a soft snort and try to bite back the grin that was growing on your face.

The place was full as expected, newly stocked as well for the weekend shopping most customers did around your area.

As you made your way through the aisles you scolded yourself for not scribbling down a list of what you needed, then proceeded to pick up a good amount of garlic and onion because most dishes need one or both aplenty. Wouldn’t hurt to have more even if you already had some back home.

Slowly, but steadily, your cart begins to fill the more you walk around and your vision falls on something that you were running low on. Funnily enough, since your new roommate, you’d found yourself having to shop more than once a week. He had a ravenous appetite and you liked that about him, liked having someone there to enjoy your cooking.

Living alone was a blessing, but it did get lonely sometimes.

And before you’d just make something hasty and easy for yourself, too busy with work, too tired after work, or just too lazy and not seeing the appeal of treating yourself. But now, you had someone who depended on you and it felt exhilarating to prepare meals and have another mouth to feed. It didn’t matter to you that Ghost wasn’t big on verbal praises in regards to the food you made him or the care you put into him.

You were happy just having him contently lounging on your couch and stroking your thigh while you lay beside him.

“Milk, eggs, cheese, butter, Simon, you’re tugging too much.” You call back while sifting through the egg cartons and trying to find one that has all ten eggs intact. When the tugging didn’t relent and you received no answer, you turned back with the intent of scolding the silent giant. “Simon, I said you’re – ”

But it wasn’t Simon. He was on your opposite side, staring downward. You follow his gaze to find a little sprout of a being hooked to your jeans and looking up at you with just as much confusion.

Apparently, the toddler had seen your tall, dark, and handsome partner linked to you and with their guardian nowhere to be found, she’d done the same. A child’s mind will forever stay a mystery to you.

The child doesn’t look older than five or four, with large eyes and a small mouth that was shaking with uncertainty while she gawked up at you in a silent plea. The jacket she had on made her look like a walking square, her hands barely poked out of the sleeves. She’d be adorable if not for the tear-stained cheeks that immediately tugged at your heartstrings.

You shake off the shock that has stiffened your joints and push your cart away.

“Hey, there.” You coo gently, shoo both of their hands off your jeans before they end up pulling them off your hips, and kneel down to greet the poor thing that was already hiccupping with sobs. “Hey, little Darling. Where’s your mommy? Did you get lost?”

When the waterworks start again, you gently pet her back.

“There, there. Let it out, it’s okay.”

You curse yourself for not packing any tissues in your bag and wipe the tears off her chubby cheeks with your thumbs.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” You soothe, glance up at Ghost to see him standing there silently and watching the encounter unravel with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Typical guy. “Can you tell me your name? Your mommy’s name?”

“Julie.” Was the choppy, nasally answer you receive as the toddle clumsily wipes the snot in the sleeve of her jacket.

“Is that your name or your mommy’s name?” You ask while unzipping her jacket enough to get it off her mouth and find it coated in a sheen of saliva.

Tissues, wet wipes, freaking toilet paper, you would have liked to have something to wipe the poor thing clean, but of course when you needed your supplies most, nothing but your wallet and chewing gum were in your bag.

“My name is Julie. Mommy’s name is Mommy.”

You would have giggled at that answer if Julie wasn’t pouring out her little heart’s sorrow in front of you. Instead, you nod with an okay and rise to face Ghost while resting your hands on your hips. From what you can see around you, nobody is looking around frantically for a lost toddler so you sigh and run a hand over your hair, thinking.

“Might have to take her to reception and make an announcement. Or the mom might already be there.” You say and give the hulking behemoth a once over before cocking your head to the side. “I’ve got the cart. You mind taking her?”

You take a step back, but by the uneasy looks both of them are giving you, it dawns on you that playing mediator was your next step before taking the child along.

“It’s okay.” You give Julie a warm smile, eyes moving between her and Ghost while he also squats down, a foot away from you as not the scare the little thing. “This is Simon. He’s really nice, I promise. He’s my best friend, in fact, he won’t hurt you. Promise.”

It takes some more convincing on your part before the toddler agrees to be picked up by your companion, but once he’d set her on his shoulders to scan the area for her parents, she seemed as cheerful as a cherub. Apparently, she’d never been held that high off the ground before, it was a whole new experience for her, and by the way Simon supported her back with a hand larger than her head and the gentle shine in his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t having too bad of a time either.

You make your way towards the reception desk, accompanied by a symphony of kiddish giggles, your grocery shopping left on the back burner until you relieve yourselves of your new bundle of joy.

Squeals would come from Julie every so often as she fidgeted around on Simon’s shoulders, her pudgy hands splayed in his dirty blond locks or tugging gently on his ears. It suited him being in charge of a little one, the fatherly appeal caused a pleasant knot to tighten in your chest and you tried to wipe the wide grin off your lips, but you just couldn’t.

“Hi, good evening.” You call out to the staff on the other end of the wide reception desk, thankfully catching their attention just before they turned their back on you. “Hi…We found this little girl in the dairy aisle, haven’t been able to find her parents. Would you be able to make an announcement maybe?” You lean in and lower your voice, glancing back briefly to see Julie preoccupied with giggling while toying with Simon’s free hand to hear. “We don’t know the names of the parents. I tried asking but…no dice. Her name is Julie.”

It takes less than ten minutes of you hanging about the reception after the announcement was made, while Ghost entertains the lively toddler, for you to see a flushed woman hurrying your way with her purse clutched under her arm.

You straighten up and adjust your jacket before taking a few small steps forward.

“Oh thank God. Julie!” The mother you presume, presses a hand to her chest when she sees her baby girl atop your roommate’s shoulders. “Thank goodness.”

She surges forward before plucking her child from Ghost’s hand and squishing her to her cheek with a relieved expression softening her earlier strained features. You guess Julie would have been just as vocally ecstatic if her face wasn’t immediately squished to her mom’s neck. You watch her flail for a bit before being maneuvered on her side so she can say a thank you.

“Thank you so much! I turned around for a second and – ”

“ – It’s not a problem.” You chirp back, waving your hands to hopefully dismiss the built-up anxiety that had the mother’s eyes still as wide as saucers. A polite smile adorns your lips, your gestures open and stance friendly to ease the poor woman before she suffers a heart attack at your feet.

“I hope she didn’t give you any trouble.” She says while smoothing out her daughter’s hair lovingly and pressing a feverish kiss to her forehead, earning a giggle in response. Then she extends a hand towards you, which you shake with pleasure. “She can be a bit of a handful. My name is Lily, by the way. I’m sorry to have to meet like this.”

“No trouble at all, ma'am.” You nod, let her shake Simon’s hand as well while you give her your name, and toss a fleeting glare at your loving roommate for not offering his. “We’re happy to help. Nice to meet you.”

“Thank you again, bless you. Say thank you, Julie.” Lily urges and gently grabs Julie’s arm before waving it at both of you. She turns then, readjusts the toddler in her arms, and offers you one last farewell before walking away. “Have a good evening and thank you.”

Despite both the distance and the chatty surge of people around you, you can hear Lily scolding her daughter under her breath before returning to the cart she’d abandoned. It all makes you laugh, especially hearing the muffled mumbles of protest as Julie stares at you and Ghost over her mother’s shoulder.

You wave at her one last time before fetching your discarded grocery cart and rolling it to Simon’s side.

“Didn’t know you were so good with kids.” There’s a teasing note to your tone as you glance at him from under your lashes, hiding a smirk behind the collar of your jacket.

You take the lead, slowly making your way back between the aisles while skimming around for any products you might have skipped past the first time.

“Didn’t eithe’.” He says softly as if the whole situation was the most foreign thing he’d ever witnessed. As if this had been the first time he’d held a toddler, it was heartwarming to feel the thought behind his absentminded voice.

“You’d make a great dad one day.” You hum and poke at his side with your elbow to make him look down at you only to beam up at him.

He’s silent for a while as you stop by the stacks of instant ramen, eyes never leaving yours as his head tilts to one side.

“Tha’ so?”

“Absolutely.” You respond with confidence before breaking your heartfelt eye contact to pick out a packet of noodles for rainy days when you don’t feel like cooking. “Maybe I’ll get to be the Godmother.”

You miss the way he arches an eyebrow at your statement as if you’d said the most blatantly inaccurate thing ever. You miss the way his chocolate brows fall down to your belly where they stay for a suspicious amount of time while he thinks over how nice it would be for you to go shopping with a wee one fussing about in your cart.

For the rest of your stay in the grocery store, Simon was noticeably more touchy. Instead of hooking himself to your jeans, he had a hand pressed to your lower back, thumb rubbing circles into your jacket, hard enough for you to feel. You didn’t question it, thinking his good mood was probably due to your encounter with Julie earlier, the toddler did boost his spirits up after all. He persisted while you were making your way home, holding the groceries in one hand while keeping his other on you.

Nothing seemed out of normal to you while you were outside besides him being a little needier than usual. You didn’t ask about it and didn’t tease him either, instead, you were trying to figure out what to cook up tomorrow because you had all the time you could wish for since it was Saturday. Then again, you had other chores to tend to. There was the washing up, hoovering, dusting.

But as soon as you twisted your key in the lock and stepped inside your now-shared apartment, he had you practically pinned against the wall. Grabby hands were fumbling to get your jacket off while you kicked off your shoes and spat mewling protests against the bulk of his shoulder.

Between getting you and himself undressed, you managed to slip out of his grip and pattered to the kitchen hurriedly, groceries in hand. You barely managed to set them on the table before Ghost twirled you around in his arms like you weighed nothing and bent you over the counter.

“Simon!” You hiss back and fuss to get yourself free. “What’s gotten you so riled up all of a sudden?” You feel a prominent bulge press against the soft curve of your ass and squeal. “Darling, please! At least take me to the bedroom first.”

A “tsk” comes from behind you and you’re about to yap at him that that’s no way to respond to the person who’ll be making him breakfast tomorrow, but the air is knocked out of your lungs as you’re picked up with ease and flopped over his shoulder like a potato sack.

“Simon!” You thump a weak fist against his back as he carries you down the hallway and it still makes you laugh that he needs to duck past your kitchen door, despite the situation. “Talk to me, Darling? Please? Not that I mind, but I need to put the groceries in the fridge and – ”

He tosses you on the bed and crawls on top of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. There’s a certain flare to his eyes as he stares you down and you feel a lump form in your throat before you force it down and coo up at him.

“Wanna tell me what’s been going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You try to squirm away but only end up with his erection lodged between your thighs and his body weight locking you down against the sheets. A moan slips past your lips before you cup his cheeks and run your thumbs over his eyebrows to ease the tension that’s built up there.

“Tell me, please?” You urge while getting comfortable beneath him and swatting away the hand he has toying with the button of your jeans. You lock your legs around his thick waist and pull him a little closer. “Please?”

He doesn’t respond right away, apparently smacking his hand off you thrust him into a spree of thoughts. You wait patiently, one hand scratching at his scalp tenderly while the other stays on his cheek. He looks away from you after a while, something you don’t quite comprehend darkening his moment of contemplation as he mulls over a decision you can only guess at.

His earlier desperation has all but vanished, leaving you absolutely confused.

“Si…Darling.”

You don’t expect him to turn back to you with pain glistening in those brown orbs you like so much before he props himself up on one elbow. Don’t expect the uneven movements of his hand as he slowly, timidly takes one of the black bands holding his mask in place and unfurls it from his ear before taking the little slip off entirely. He places it by your head and adjusts himself on both elbows, a thin-lipped frown tugging the corners of his mouth down as he watches avidly for your reaction.

A pang of guilt surges through you because of how long you’d been silently staring back at him in the darkness of your room. The street lamps illuminate the walls, illuminate his bare face as well.

His. Bare. Face.

The one he’d been hiding since you’d first met, the one you hadn’t seen even when you’d seen the rest of him stark naked whenever you made love. It doesn’t register at first, that you can see his whole face, that he’d finally let you see all of him.

Then your chest flourishes, it feels like exploding in a heap of budding flowers and a breathless laugh leaves your lips, one of joy, of an achievement long overdue, finally accomplished.

You hesitantly cup his cheeks again, this time feeling the light stubble grazing your soft skin.

“Hey…” You manage out, fighting to kick away the surprise and give him the love he deserves for taking such a step forward. “Hey, handsome old dog.”

Your tender expression forces him to halt his breathing altogether before he buries himself in the safety of your neck, breathing you in slowly, the familiar scent calming his strained nerves. You feel the muscles on his back ripple under your touch as you run your hand over his form tenderly, feel his chest expand with every strictly controlled breath he takes.

“Hey…” He murmurs back, greeting muffled into your skin as you rest a trembling hand against the back of his head and sink your fingers into his short hair.

You hadn’t even paid attention to the scars littering his battle-honed skin, they’d been the last thing on your mind as you’d taken him in. He was ruggedly charming, uniquely handsome, it boggled you why he so fiercely hid his face when there was nothing wrong with him. But that was a discussion for another day, you pushed down your bubbling questions and just let the moment consume you.

You feel his lips move against your neck as he swallows, and nuzzle your cheek against his crown lovingly before closing your eyes with a sigh. He relents when you nudge him with your nose to lift his head before pressing a kiss to his nose, then his cheeks, his chin and forehead before finally planting your lips on his. His desperation to remove your bottoms returns then and he’s back at toying with your button and zipper.

You let him take off your jeans while you tug at his jacket, leaving it to pool on the floor before he eases himself out of his blouse and nestles back above you. Your feet come to rest on his strong calves, hands in his hair and glazing over his back as he loses himself in your skin, nipping incessantly at your collarbone while silently asking for you to take off your top and let him feast on more than just your neck.

And as always, you’re pliant when he’s finally caught you under his bulk. You push him off enough to discard the article of clothing before letting yourself fall back into the sheets, mewling happily while he laps at your flesh like a man starved.

A heat pools in your loins, one you try to soothe by pushing your hips up into his and earning yourself a choked growl that makes you quiver with excitement.

But a question keeps nagging at you no matter how heated you become and how low his insatiable lips travel down your body. You hum when his nose nudges the hem of your panties and you stop him before he can pull them off and descend on your gathering slick.

“So…” You begin through a strained voice and glance down at him, finding his eyes already locked on you. Your mouth goes dry, throat tightening, but you force yourself to ask. You need to know, if nothing else, at least this. “What’s the occasion?”

He laughs at your hesitation, a deep, rumbling laugh choir that should come from the monsters in your childhood fairytales, not the man about to stuff his face between your thighs.

“Wan’ed you to see what the father of yer kids looks like, Birdie.”

<<< Chapter 2

Chapter 4 >>>

Masterlist

[written-and-readen]

The Odd Are Slim But Never Zero Part 3

Moze, Phainon, Sampo x fem!reader

Part 1 (Dan Heng, Luka, Blade), Part 2 (Jing Yuan, Sunday, Gallagher)

Summary: Someone walks in on you

Warnings: nsfw (18+), penetrative sex (Moze), cumming inside, semi-public (Moze, Phainon, Sampo), marking (Sampo), getting caught

a/n: With Amphoreus comes more men to write for. I would've posted this much later if it hadn't come out. Lord help me when Anaxa shows up.

Moze

You thought Moze was supposed to be stealthy. Him coming out of invisibility scares you on the daily. Him fucking you in a random Yaoqing alley in broad daylight is a hard contradiction to that.

Your back is pinned against a wall as his cock pistons in and out of your folds. Your pants and underwear have been long discarded on a nearby crate. His gloved hand is wrapped around your thigh to part your legs, giving it a squeeze occasionally. Not only is he more bold by making a move on you out here, but he’s tougher than usual. Your pussy clenches, trying to get a grip just like you are. You don’t want to admit that some of the best sex you’ve had happened in an alley, but that may be the case because you also really don’t want him to stop.

“Are you okay?” You say as you fight back a flood of moans unsuccessfully. Something must be up to bring about this.

“Failed again,” He growls in your ear. He must be talking about another one of his attempts to assassinate Feixiao. The Shadow Guard keeps trying despite not being successful yet, but it’s only natural he’d be frustrated over it once in a while. Maybe he just wants to feel like he’s doing a good job.

“Moze!” You whine when he hits a particularly sweet spot in your pussy, a reminder of how good of a job he’s currently doing. It’s embarrassing how quiet he is while you can barely keep your noises from spilling into his ears. You try to muffle them in his shoulder as your legs quiver beneath you.

“Where do you think he went?” A familiar woman’s voice comes from nearby. A mere glance in its direction leads your eyes to connect with Feixiao’s piercing blue ones. It’s only a moment before you’re averting your gaze, face now burning. Did she recognize you in those few seconds? Oh, who are you kidding? If she didn’t, she’d at least recognize her own assassin.

You’re quickly reminded of the position you’re in with another swift thrust of Moze’s hips. You wonder if he noticed the general, but he seems pretty unphased. With his keen senses, it’s more believable that he’s just acting like he didn’t notice. You’ll think it over later sometime when you’re not being railed against a wall. For now, you just let the impending orgasm ripple through your body as Moze fills you up with the product of his own.

“You okay?” Moze helps steady you after the fact, hands on your waist.

“Yeah. You should probably get back to Feixiao,” You reply, still wondering about that brief moment of eye contact.

“It’s fine,” Moze replies. Once you’re dressed again, he picks you up bridal style so you don’t have to stand on unsteady legs. “She’ll understand me taking care of you after that. I think she could tell how much it was for you.”

Shit. You hide your flushed face in Moze’s chest. It’s going to be a while before you want to face the general again.

Phainon

You wish you could say the goosebumps on your skin were due to the cool water of the bath, but it’s definitely a result of a certain Chrysos Heir’s gaze. You can practically feel how Phainon’s blue irises trail across your body as you sit in his lap. The water only just comes up to your hips, leaving plenty of you for him to admire.

You’ve only seen each other naked a few times before and just briefly, so you can’t say you don’t feel the same. His muscular frame draws your eyes as well, slowly but surely leading them downward until you hit the water’s surface.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You hope switching the subject will take your mind off the tension. “I thought this bath was only for the Chrysos Heirs.”

“Well, you’re the guest of a Chrysos Heir. I’m sure that’s enough.” It seems like a weak argument to you, but his hands slowly running up your sides has you gasping instead of protesting. Previously resting on your thighs under the surface of the bath, his hands are still cool as they roam your skin, leaving water droplets in their wake.

“Phainon…” He’s just moments away from reaching your breasts but stops upon hearing you murmur his name.

"Is something wrong? Do you want me to stop?" His eyes meet yours as his motions cease. You pause and find yourself shaking your head.

"It's just...new." You avert your gaze, but a hand on your jaw brings you right back to Phainon.

"I'll take it slow, okay?" The way his eyes soften reveals the truth behind his words.

"Okay." You nod before he brings you into a kiss.

The warmth of his lips moving against yours has you melting into him. The water ripples as you lean closer. Your arms go to rest on his shoulders, hands brushing through the snow white hair on the back of his neck. Simultaneously, you feel his touch dance around your collarbone, twirling patterns making their way lower and lower. Finally, he lands on the curve of your breast. At the same time you gasp and break the kiss, he smiles, eyes flickering to watch your reaction. The light pinch he gives your nipple shoots pleasure straight to your core.

As you process the new sensations, Phainon presses kiss along the same path his hand traveled. Down your neck, over your collarbone, ending right between your breasts. Your brain hardly registers it all with the way his hands also move lower. Sliding down your waist, running across your hips, crossing your thighs, and moving inward until—

"Phainon." Both of you look to see the Goldweaver herself. Instinctively, your arms cross over your chest before remembering that Aglaea sees through her web of golden threads. Oh.... embarassment burns through your body at the realization she probably saw everything that just occurred in the bath before even stepping foot here.

"You better not be sullying the water." Aglaea warns in that usual silky tone.

"Well then, I guess we better go somewhere more private." Phainon stands up, taking you with him as his hands hook under your butt to support you. Looking over his shoulder as he carries you away, you swear the faintest sly smile forms on Aglaea’s lips.

Sampo

"We should not be doing this here," You say through gritted teeth as your back hits the cold stone of a wall in Backwater Pass. Despite the way you hate how Sampo's always trying to get in your pants, there's also something you equally love about it. His emerald eyes go wide as he pleads with you to let him eat you out in the alley or whatever other scheme he's had on his mind. He's lucky desperation is a good look on him.

"Stop me at any time," He purrs against the skin of your neck with the confidence of knowing you won't. It seems you've folded one too many times. You're getting predictable. At the feeling of his teeth grazing across your skin before choosing a place to strike, you can't find it in yourself to care though. Your head lolls to the side, letting him do as he pleases.

As Sampo marks up your skin, his hands deftly undo the buttons of your shirt. He lifts your bra up to see how Belobog's chilly air has your nipples perking up. There's no hesitation in the way he takes a breast in each hand, squeezing the flesh as his mouth gets back to work.

“Sampo…” You moan right in his ear.

“Feels good, pretty girl?” Another moan falling from your lips is all he needs as response before taking it further. His thigh slots itself between your legs, and you eagerly grind down against it. From the stimulation on your neck, chest, and clit, it’s somehow too much yet not enough. The desire to have his cock filling you up slowly clouds your brain, but all a sudden it all stops.

“Sampo?” You whine, trying to regain your bearings to see why he stopped. Your brain starts to register voices, and when you look in their direction, you’re met with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards rounding the corner.

You can’t imagine what you look like right now. Clothes messily pushed out of the way so your chest is on full display and hickeys running down your neck. There’s little time to react before Sampo’s grabbing your hand and sprinting in the opposite direction with you in tow. You try your best to get your clothes somewhat back in order with your free hand as you run.

“We’re never doing this again!” You shout, hearing footsteps on your trail.

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart.” Sampo gives you a knowing smirk. You hate that he’s right. And you hate that Gepard’s wide-eyed reaction to stumbling upon you maybe turned you on a little bit.

[arabella0001]

my maladaptive dreaming kicking in

cn: just fluff, marriage&kids

you and satoru have only been apart for two days while he’s away on a mission with his students, but you already feel the weight of his absence. you reassured him multiple times that it was okay for him to go, even though he tends to overreact when it comes to how you’re feeling after delivering your second baby. and while you’re so grateful for all the love and support he’s given you, today was a rough day.

your two-month-old baby has been feeling worse than usual, crying inconsolably because of stomach pain. you’d hoped your seven-year-old daughter—who adores the baby—would be her usual patient self. but today, she threw a tantrum, refusing to listen to anything you said. all the while, the baby cried endlessly, and you didn’t even have a second to take care of yourself—your face was still unwashed, and the postnatal pain was nagging at you. your emotions felt completely out of control.

when satoru finally came home that evening, he called out softly, “sweetheart?” raising an eyebrow as he looked over at your daughter, his expression playful but concerned.

you didn’t greet him, didn’t kiss him, didn’t say a word. instead, you rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and leaning against it as you tried to steady your breathing.

“baby, what’s going on?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“just... leave me alone for a second, satoru,” you managed to say through the door.

there was a brief pause before you heard his dramatic surrender, raising his hands “of course, my lovely wife. take all the time you need.”

he turned his attention to your daughter, crouching in front of her and noticing her pouty expression—one that reminded him so much of yours.

“hey, my little one,” he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. “remember what i told you? let’s not make mommy sad, okay? when mommy’s sad, daddy gets sad too. she’s working so hard, so why don’t we work together to cheer her up, yeah?”

meanwhile, you sat on the cold bathroom floor, fighting back tears and guilt. you’d convinced yourself today would be easier—that your baby’s discomfort would ease up, that your daughter would be more patient, that everything would go smoothly. instead, nothing had gone right, and the pressure felt suffocating.

in the living room, satoru stayed busy. he played with your daughter, making her laugh again, or checked on the baby, gently rocking him in his tiny bed. but he couldn’t help glancing at the bathroom door, his usual playful expression fading into something more serious. he drummed his fingers against the couch, bit his nails as he stared beneath the rim of his glasses.

the second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on his feet. his worried expression softened into a small smile as he walked up to you.

“my pretty wife,” he murmured, placing a hand on your back and pulling you close. “what happened? talk to me.”

“it’s okay, satoru. i’m sorry. let’s just—”

“no, no, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “we don’t do that here.” he led you to the bed, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.

“talk to me,” he said again, his voice so gentle as you hesitated, looking anywhere but at him, but the moment your eyes met his, the tears started to fall, making his eyes widen a little.

“i’m so sorry, satoru,” you whispered, voice cracking. “i don’t want you to think i’m too dependent on you. i know how much i wanted you to keep working, and—”

“hey, stop,” he said softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushed away your tears. “do you really think i’d ever feel that way about you having a bad day? i know how much you’re dealing with. and our feisty little girl?” he chuckled. “she’s not easy to handle, especially when you’re on your own. what can i say? she’s both of us combined.”

you let out a weak laugh, tears still slipping down your face.

“and listen to me,” he continued, his voice serious. “you’re not less of a mother if you call the babysitter to help out when i’m away, okay? you’re an amazing, strong, intelligent woman—and, might i add, incredibly beautiful,” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling faintly.

“but i need you to take care of yourself too. your body’s still healing, and you need time to breathe, especially when i’m not here to remind you. promise me you’ll let someone help next time?”

you nodded slowly. “i know, but—”

“no ‘buts.’” he pressed a finger to your lips. “don’t talk about my wife like that. have a little faith in her, like i do, yeah?” he kissed your temple, the warmth of his touch calming you.

“okay,” you whispered, sniffing.

“good.” he stood suddenly, scooping you into his arms and starting to walk.

“now,” he said with a grin, “let’s relax for a bit. i’m running you a bath.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest with a content sigh. “i love you so much, you don’t even understand.”

he chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “oh, sweetheart, believe me—I do. because i love you just as much.”

[chrissturnsfav]

rapper!chris singer!reader are at a party some guy is making singer!reader uncomfortable she tells chris what’s he doing?

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris doesn't play about singer!reader

the party is in full swing, music pounding through the walls, bass shaking the floor. you’re off in the corner with your friends, sipping on something strong enough to make your chest warm. it’s comfortable and easy—but then...

you notice him first out of the corner of your eye. some guy, tall, loud, one of those guys who think the whole room revolves around him. he’s been circling for a while, and now he’s here, standing too close to you, his voice cutting through your friends' laughter.

"yo, you got a name, or am i just gonna have to call you ‘pretty’ all night?" he says, grinning like he’s some fucking hot shot.

you step back slightly, keeping your smile tight as you ignore the way you cringe at his shitty ass pick up line. "i’m good, thanks."

but he doesn’t back down that easy, leaning in like he owns the air between you. you can even feel his breath on your face, and it makes your nose scrunch up. "don’t be like that. i’m just tryna talk."

his drawl makes your skin prickle, the large and crowded space around you shrinking. you glance across the room, you see chris, manspreading on a couch with his rapper friends along with nick and matt, drink in hand, blunt between his plush lips, laughing at something someone just said.

you know how he gets after a few drinks—more protective, less patient—but you don’t care. you don’t feel safe.

you make your way over, weaving coyly through bodies until you’re standing in front of him. his eyes light up when he sees you, but his smile falters slightly when he catches your expression.

"wassup, kid?" he asks, sitting up straight as he looks up at you, elbows on his knees as he plucks the blunt out from between his lips. his tone is different now, serious.

you nod back toward the guy, not even wanting to look in that direction. "some dude’s being…weird, i dunno. just don't feel comfortable."

chris smirks dangerously, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. he sets his drink down, his jaw tightening as he looks around the sea of people. "where?"

you hesitate, but he’s already on his feet, towering over you even though he’s not that tall—just commanding. you nod toward the guy across the room, and chris follows your gaze, his eyes narrowing.

"yo, hold this," he says to nick over his shoulder, handing the blunt to his brother—who looks confused, but chris doesn't let him ask any questions before he's on the move.

he crosses the room like he’s on a mission, brushing past people like they’re invisible. you trail behind, far enough to not get in his way but close enough to see everything. chris stops in front of the guy, sizing him up before he even says a word.

"yo," chris starts, voice low but sharp enough to cut through the noise. "sum'n wrong?"

the guy looks confused, glancing between you and chris. "nah, man, nothing's wrong."

"then why the fuck you over here talkin’ to my girl?" chris asks, his tone calm but dangerous. when the guy doesn't respond—processing what's going on and who he's being confronted by—chris scoffs, the same dangerous smirk on his lips again. "you ain't hear what i said, playboy?"

the guy tries to laugh it off, holding up his hands. "i didn’t know she was with anyone."

chris steps closer, and suddenly, the space feels electric. "yeah, aight," he snickers. this guy knows damn well you had a boyfriend. of course he did, everyone knows. "you gonna jus' continue to stand here lookin’ stupid, or you gonna move before i fuckin' make you?"

the guy mutters something under his breath and backs off, disappearing into the crowd. chris doesn’t even watch him leave. he turns to you instead, his hand sliding around your hips.

"you good, mama?" he asks, his voice softer now, his eyes scanning your face.

"yeah, i’m fine," you say, feeling a little more at ease with him so close.

he pulls you in, his lips brushing against your ear. "ain’t nobody messin’ wit' you when m'here. don’t even trip."

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "you’re so dramatic."

he smirks, pulling back just enough to look at you. "nah, i ain't dramatic," he chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening, hang hovering just above your ass. "ion play 'bout my girl, that's all."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast

@chrissturnsfav ™

[witherby]

Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf

It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh

Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)

"B! Thanks for coming to get —"

Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.

It's Hal.

"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."

"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."

He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."

Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.

They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.

"You don't... have to do that."

"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.

"I don't mean the food."

Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.

"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.

Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.

"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.

"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.

"I think Bruce is it for me."

Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.

"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."

Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.

"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"

Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.

"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."

"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.

"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."

Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.

"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"

Oh. Oh.

In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."

"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.

[bowsandsturniolos]

pairing: virgin!nerd!matt x bsf!confident!reader

warnings: innocence corruption, handjob, oral (m), smut, edging.

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

after getting caught in the heat of the moment, you and your best friend, matt, had just broken away from an intense make out session. you're now kissing a trail down his neck and collarbones.

once you reach the collar of his button up, you look up at his flushed face and crooked glasses. "can i.. take this off?" you ask.

he lets out a trembling breath. he's never even been shirtless in front of a girl. "uh.. yeah." he says shakily, swallowing thickly.

you reach for the top button of his shirt and slowly start to work the buttons out of their loops until his shirt is fully unbuttoned. he's propped up on his elbows, watching you.

he swallows when you tug his shirt of completely, heart thumping in his chest. he refuses to make eye contact with you.

heat crawls up his neck and twinges his cheeks a reddish pink when you speak. "can i take your pants off?" he swallows and nods, not trusting his voice.

you unzip his fly, watching his face intently as you tug down his pants, leaving him in his black boxers that read "CALVIN KLEIN" along the waistband in a white font.

you wait there for a moment, just staring at the completely tented material of his boxers, noticing the small wet patch that forms right where his tip is.

his chest is heaving already. you gently bring your kisses across his crotch, kissing the outline of him through his pants.

a whine dies in his throat as you do so. you chuckle and hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. "can i take these off?" his eyes widen.

he takes a deep breath before nodding timidly. you gently tug them down until the fabric pools at his ankles, face to face with his dick, standing at attention.

he covers his face with his hands, skin so red he could be mistaken for a tomato. he's never been naked in front of a girl before. really anyone, honestly. he even gets nervous in locker rooms sometimes.

he whimpers. you chuckle softly. "is it okay if i touch you, matt?" he nods eagerly, still covering his face. you smile and gently wrap your hand around his base.

he whines, his eyes widening when your touch lands on the most intimate, sensitive part of his body, you being the first to ever do so.

you make a fist around him, gently pumping his shaft. "o-oh- oh.. oh my g-god." he whimpers, hips bucking as he covers his face with both his hands.

you smile and gently rub your thumb over his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit. his eyes roll back in his head. his hands fall from his face and to his sides, white knuckling the sheets.

"y/n i- i don't know what's- oh god.. what's happening i feel like-" you chuckle and stop your movements, making his impending orgasm leave.

he whimpers. "whenever you feel like that, tell me. it's means you're gonna cum. okay?" he nods, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut as you start your ministrations again.

his chest rises and falls unsteadily, the sounds of him gasping for air and his moans filling the room. you take your free hand and gently reach down to tug on his balls.

his eyes roll back in his head. "y/n!" he screeches. you grin and immediately stop, your touch leaving him completely. tears prick the corners of his eyes.

"why'd you stop! no!" he whines, kicking his feet like a little kid. you smile, running your hands up his thighs. you gently kiss his tip.

he sucks in a sharp breath, the feeling of your mouth foreign and exciting. you smile and wrap your lips around his flushed and leaking tip.

he squeezes his eyes shut and covers his own mouth, muffling his pathetic noises. you chuckle and begin to swirl your tongue around his tip, lapping at his slit and savoring the taste of his precum.

"fuck.." he whimpers, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. you suck on his tip for a while before dropping down on him, taking his full length without warning.

his mouth drops open and the hand that was covering his mouth flies to grip the sheets. he lets out the loudest moan he has today, his eyes rolling back in his head.

god, he looks so pretty like this. cheeks flushed, eyes squeezed shut, bucking his hips into your face, dangly earrings hanging from his bright red skin, he's so pretty.

you hum around him, sending vibrations coursing through his shaft and working to tighten the coils in his tummy.

he lifts his hips when your tongue laps at his underside. "y/n i'm-" before he can get his warning out, he screams, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he shoots his cum down your throat.

you lick and suck him through his orgasm, moaning around him. he squirms under your mouth. "wait y/n i-" he wiggles, starting to get overstimulated.

you chuckle and pull off of his softening cock, licking your lips and standing at eye level again. his still breathless and wordless.

you smile and press a kiss to his lips. he doesn't even care that he can taste himself on you, he grabs your face and begins to make out with you again.

you giggle and straddle his lap, the situation slightly ironic. he's completely naked and already though an orgasm, and you're fully clothed.

a comfortable silence falls between you two as you passionately kiss. not a word is exchanged, but you both come to a mutual agreement. you could get used to this.

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

author's note: it's actually so crazy to think that my stories genuinely get people off. i was thinking about that last night, and it's like insane. i'm honored to help you freaks out, though. 😉 anyways, more nerd matt coming soon. (literally.) with love, bows, and sturniolos. 💗🎀

@ryleescomet @evie-sturns @whore4mattsturniolo @sweetshuga @sturnshood @emely9274 @slut4christopherr

[daenerys-apolog1st]

Something I've seen Team Green bring up is the idea that we should all feel bad for Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena because they weren't "welcomed into the Targaryen family" and were "ostracized from the family" or whatever, but like...the only people holding them apart from "being true Targaryens/being apart of the Targaryen family" are the Hightowers, namely Otto and Alicent.

In Season 1 we saw glimpses of how Alicent's kids and Rhaenyra's kids interacted when left to their own devices: in one episode we see Aegon actually getting along with Jace and Luce and joking with them, in another episode we see Jace dancing with Helaena while his siblings watch and smile, and all the "bullying" TG brings up Aemond facing is just like...standard kid stuff- (and was led by Aegon, I might add) -not really anything particularly bad, and I say this as someone who was bullied---it doesn't make it right, but it's what kids and siblings tend to do. There's even a deleted scene where Rhaenyra dotes on Aegon and bonds with him, and in the books Rhaenyra refers to Helaena as her "sweet sister" and said she'd welcome her brothers with open arms if they bent the knee. Not to mention that Viserys constantly reminds everyone that they're family and they need to stand together.

(Driftmark is an entirely separate thing that I'm not gonna comment on here, I'll make another post about it later, but essentially it was an emotionally charged, high-stress, situation---but clearly an accident and something outside of the norm for EVERYONE)

In short: for the most part, they seem to get along pretty well. Yeah there's disagreements and they sometimes don't like each other, but that's standard family stuff---sometimes you hate your family a little bit, sometimes you feel like they hate you, but it passes and in the end you all love each other. You're still family.

The separation doesn't come from the Targaryens, it comes from the Hightowers.

Alicent, in like one of the first scenes we get with her actually interacting with her children, tells Aegon that he can bully Aemond in private but in public they need to stand together because it's them against everyone else---she tells Aegon that Rhaenyra will kill him to secure her inheritance and doubles down after Aegon says that he doesn't want the throne/won't challenge her. We also see through Aegon and Aemond's conversations with each other that this is sentiment she's expressed before to ALL of her children.

Alicent, when Rhaenyra tries to make peace by betrothing Jace and Helaena together, basically spits in her face and refuses before telling Viserys that it'd happen over her dead body---once again, separating the family. Alicent and Otto were plotting usurpation since Aegon was born and even BEFORE, and that clearly spread into how they raised Alicent's children---hereby separating them further.

Even before Rhaenyra had children of her own, Alicent showed distain for Targaryen culture saying- "you Targaryens do have queer customs" -which separates her, and then her children by proxy, from being Targaryen---and later on we see this taken further when she and Otto remove all the Targaryen cultural items and decor from the Red Keep and replace it with their own religious items. This continues to separate her children from being Targaryens by separating them from their history and culture.

All of this separation doesn't come from Team Black or Rhaenyra or even Viserys---Otto and Alicent are the ones doing everything they can to keep Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena separate from their Targaryen family/heritage, and everyone suffers for it.

If TG wants to feel bad for them for being kept separate from "the Targaryens," have at it, but place blame on the people who actually ostracized them instead of just pretending Viserys/Rhaenyra/whoever were the ones who did it.

[isaacthedruid]

blueberry muffins and reading glasses

a buddie one shot, 1.5k words, just pure adorable fluff, also on ao3

It’s not every day you learn something new about your best friend. Today was not one of those days that Buck had expected it to happen. He had a good shift, went back to the loft and had a long nap. And he’d made some muffins– a recipe he’d stolen (“borrowed”) from Bobby’s personal cookbook –which turned out far better than he expected to, oh and–

Buck let himself into Eddie’s home, a large tupperware of muffins in hand. Only to find Eddie already sat on the couch with the book Buck had recommended– his own and well-loved personal copy of said book –held gently in Eddie’s hands. If Buck could add, his large hands that he, Buck, definitely wasn’t attracted to. Definitely not.

“Hey, I made multiple batches to get this recipe right, so I really hope you like blueberry!” He said, closing the door with his foot and setting the tupperware down in front of Eddie on the coffee table.

“Are these the ones from the recipe you stole from Bobby?”

“I borrowed it!”

“You snooped through his cookbook and took a picture of it when his back was turned!”

“I borrowed it.” Buck laughed, “Just without his knowledge.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“Agree.”

Eddie smiled, a fond expression found his face. His eyes crinkled into their crow’s feet as Buck sat down beside him. He pulled the tupperware on his lap and holy shit–

“Are you wearing glasses?” Buck asked. “Uh, not that that’s a bad thing or anything.”

He backtracked, smooth, Buck.

Smooth.

Eddie took off his glasses with a practiced elegance that would have made Buck weak at the knees if he hadn’t sat down, not that he’d ever admit it. 

Even if he had been at the ‘down bad crying at the gym’ stage for a while now.

“What, these old things?” Eddie smirked, swinging the glasses around for emphasis. “This is a really good book by the way.”

“I know! I’ve been telling you to read it for months now!”

“And I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry, Buck.”

“It’s all good. There’s so many good books by this author that I know you will love, that-” He trailed off as he looked down at the muffins in his lap, “I can tell you about later. Now, will you please try one of these and tell me if they’re horrible?”

“Buck, I can assure you that they aren’t horrible.”

“You haven’t even tried one yet!”

“I mean after-” Eddie paused, taking the muffin from Buck’s outstretched hand, “After him, you got really good at baking so-”

“Just try it already!”

“What is the anticipation killing you or something?” Eddie teased.

He slowly took the wrapper off bit by bit and Buck could hear his own breath, “Why does this feel like a strip tease?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Eddie!” Buck laughed, slapping Eddie’s arm.

“I’m kidding!”

“Just eat the damn muffin!”

Eddie raised an eyebrow and looked between the muffin and Buck a couple of times before finally taking a big bite out of it.

Buck wished Eddie would take a bite out of him. What? Ew! Who said that?

Him. He did, luckily in the safety of his own mind.

Eddie moaned at the taste, thankfully chewing and swallowing before he spoke. Jesus, that sound was pornographic.

“Oh my god, Buck! This is actually really good?”

“Yeah?”

“No, they are terrible.”

Buck’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, a blush finding his cheeks, “Are you serious?”

“I’m kidding. These are really good. Like so damn good! I like the brown sugar sprinkled stuff on the top.” Eddie said, his finger waving around the top of the dessert in case Buck didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Oh yeah! It was from Bobby’s recipe and the instructions were so specific and important about the brown sugar topping that the man underlined it twice!”

“Twice? Really!”

“Yeah.” Buck laughed and grabbed his own muffin, doing his own strip tease with the cupcake liner, somehow making it longer than Eddie’s.

“You know Bobby would’ve given you the recipe if you just asked for it?”

“I know but-”

“You just wanted to feel like a spy, didn’t you?”

“I hate how well you know me.” Buck pouted, “But like, it was fun! And now I can surprise him!”

“You’re adorable, Buck.”

“I am taking that as a compliment so, thank you.”

“It was.”

“Oh.” Buck blushed, “Can we circle back to you wearing reading glasses?”

“Uh, yeah. They are just normal glasses but what about them?”

“Would you put them back on?”

“I mean, sure but why?” Eddie asked, slipping the glasses back on and ‘Whatta Man’ started playing in Buck’s mind.

“Just wanted to get a good look at them.”

“And you couldn’t get a good look when they weren’t on my face?”

“Nope.”

“Gotcha. Makes perfect sense.”

“Really?”

“No, Buck but I’ll humour you.”

“How long have you had them?” 

“Just a couple weeks. You really didn’t see my eye appointment on the calendar?” 

Buck shrugged, “I must’ve missed it. They suit you.”

“Well, thank you.” Eddie tipped the glasses down his nose and winked, “You really know how to flatter me.”

“It’s one of the only things I’m good at.”

“You are good at far more than just that.”

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Fishing for compliments, huh?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah?”

“Bring it.”

“You can’t handle my compliments.”

“Oh, I can’t? I can take you.”

“Buck-” Eddie blurted, looking at him so intensely. His eyes behind those glasses flicked all over Buck’s face.

“Come on, Diaz.” He leaned into Eddie’s space, crowding him, “Just one little compliment. I can take it.”

“You are a great baker and I can’t even fathom all the things you make. And how good they taste.”

“Oh, so you only like me for my cooking?”

“Or something like that.” Eddie smirked, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch, “And I think that you are great at taking care of me and my home. You cook, you clean and you’re great with Chris.”

“So, I should get up off this couch and go make a snack like a good little housewife for you?”

“No, I’d rather you be my husband,” Eddie said, his face immediately turning pink.

Oh my god, he just said that!

“What?”

“I- Uh- Yeah.”

“You want me to be your husband?”

“I mean-” Eddie shut his eyes tight and rubbed at his face, “We already act like a couple, everyone thinks we are one, we are raising a kid together and-”

“You, Eddie Diaz, want to marry me?” Buck stressed, his eyes were wide.

“Yeah, Buck. I do. Not right now, of course, but in the future, I want to-”

“Can I kiss you first?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d never ask. You always look so stupid with how much you want to kiss me and-”

Buck pulled Eddie in by the front of his shirt, “And you could’ve asked me at any time. But I was the one who had to ask?”

Eddie felt Buck’s breath on his lips, he cupped his cheek and his thumb gently traced along Buck’s jaw.

“Shut up, Buck.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie leaned in, capturing Buck’s lips. The taste of the muffins mixed with a flavour that could only be described as Buck– or more simply, it was the Burt’s Bees Wild Cherry flavoured lip balm that he loved. That Eddie now loved so much he would probably go buy a tube of it if he couldn’t keep kissing Buck.

There were no fireworks or big revelations when it came to kissing him, it just felt so natural. Which was odd to say when Buck was the first man Eddie had ever kissed. It never felt like this with any woman he had been with but they weren’t Buck.

Kissing Buck was special. 

It felt like coming home.

To a house in the near future, to a loving husband who only cooks one batch of muffins at a time and who slow dances in the kitchen with him to a random Taylor Swift song that he doesn’t know the name of but loves anyway.

To a house with a family in it, his family– however that might look. He’d like a second child, maybe even a third, with Buck. One of Buck’s own DNA or maybe one that was a mix of theirs. It didn’t matter. 

But he’d also be happy to come home just to Buck and Christopher.

Because he already was.

Happy, that is. Dammit, Eddie was so happy right now and holy shit, Buck was an amazing kisser.

Eddie pulled back, pure awe on his face but Buck surged forward, the kiss far less gentle than before. Eddie swung his leg around, climbing into Buck’s lap and straddling him. His hands found Buck’s hair, fingers tangled into Buck’s curls which tore a moan from Buck’s throat.

“Bedroom?” Buck asked, moaning again. 

“Yeah, bedroom!”

[prosperdemeter2]

Teaser Monday - foundation

Teaser Monday... is that a thing? I'm making it a thing.

“I, uhm,” Eddie cleared his throat and waited until Chris had turned back to his homework and had put back on his headphones. “One of the guys from my old unit reached out.”  Because he didn't want to talk about it but, well, if Buck could do the hard thing then Eddie owed it to him to try too. He frowned with his eyebrows and turned to face him, nudging the heat on the pan to a low simmer. Buck wasn't the type to do anything without expression, but he was much better at hiding than most people expected. He frowned down at his sock clad toes and crossed his arms for a brief moment. And then he blinked, his forehead wrinkled and he reached for him, loosely tangling their fingers together to rest on his thigh. “How did they, uhm… get your number?”  Eddie swallowed and shrugged jerkily. “I haven't changed it.”  “Should probably do that.”  “It's easier than updating everything.”  Buck conceded, or at least didn't argue the point, with a wincing, jerky shrug. “What's… what did you guys talk about?”  “You,” Eddie shook his hand. “This.” He lingered the ring on his finger. It was a new routine, Eddie was sure, because Buck was always wearing the metal one when he was around Eddie. The only time he hadn't been was at the station, the silicone one snug on his finger but never quite looking correct against his skin. Buck smiled and Eddie smiled back with a groaning sigh, leaning forward to bump his forehead softly against Buck’s shoulder. He lingered there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of Buck’s fingers tangling with the hair at the nape of his neck. “His name is Bashir. He was…” There. Laughing one second and choking on his own tongue the next. Making his own sand angel with a blood red outline. “He was our translator.”  “So he…” Buck swallowed. “Went on missions with you guys?”  “Yeah.”  Buck was quiet for a long moment, his hand slowly moving in and out of Eddie’s hair, his thumb tracing a line over the collar of his shirt. “Sorry, I… do you… want to talk to him again?”  “I don't know.”  “Because you don't have to, you know? You can… you're allowed to not want to.”  “Bashir's a good kid. He… he bought Chris this toy. Some dolls and a truck, and… I think he still has them somewhere. He'd come by the med tent, you know? Because it was quieter and Samira knew some Arabic, so they could talk easier.”  “You liked him.” Buck stated like it was the fact it was.  Eddie shrugged and pulled back. “He was a good kid. Stupid smart too. English was his third language.”  Buck was watching him, which was fair, Eddie supposed, since he was almost always watching him too. “You don't have to….”  “I don't know how… to talk about this.” Eddie told his shoulder. “I know I should.”  “I get it.” Buck shrugged softly. “Trauma is…” “I don't want to drag you into this.”  “Pretty sure I want to be dragged everywhere with you.”  “This isn't pretty, Buck.”  “Neither was watching you get shot.” Eddie winced and reached up to rub at the spot the scar was. He could feel it under his fingers, puckered and pink. Completely healed now, but a reminder every morning that there had been a very good chance he wouldn't be. Ever again. “And I'm not saying that, like… I want you to do anything you don't want to do. But if you're going to do it, we should do it together, right?” 

[heartsandstars46]

The first time (prelude)

tasm!Peter x virgin!gf reader

Fluff, angst, anxiety about sex, some spice

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted! 🩷🩷 Real talk, this is my longest fic to date and I am nervous. 😅😅😅

You and Peter had been dating for a while now. He was your first real boyfriend, and you’d said the “I love yous,” but you didn’t know what was supposed to come next… how all that was supposed to work. Okay, meaning sex. Should the two of you have had sex by now? Probably? 

You also probably should have had sex in life by now, but you hadn’t, and that was hard to forget… especially while you were curled up on the couch making out with Peter—feeling his lips on yours, his tongue, his hands in your hair. You tried to stay with those sensations—and the desire they sparked—but your mind kept pulling you away, screaming that you were probably doing something wrong. Did you kiss like a virgin? Could he tell? You knew he was more experienced, but you two hadn’t really talked about it much. Somehow, sex was both hanging over and detached from your relationship.

As Peter’s hand grazed the small of your back, just barely under the hem of your shirt, you wondered what that meant. Was the expectation that you would take your shirt off? Was that what other girls did in this situation? In movies, they were falling back onto the bed, the floor, any solid surface, ready to have their clothes torn off, ready for anything. 

Were you ready for… anything?

“Hey,” Peter said softly, dropping a hand onto your knee. You jumped. He smiled sadly. “Yeah, I kind of got the feeling you weren’t all there. Are you okay?”

You aggressively shook your head, as if that would make all the confusing thoughts fly out. He slid back further so he could really look at you.

“I’m fine, I just wish I were fucking normal,” you sighed. 

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, join the club.”

You knew he meant well, and you still bristled with annoyance. Okay, sure, he was Spider-Man, he was never going to be truly normal, blah blah. But in the realm of dating, it felt like there was this chasm between you because he had had sex before and you hadn’t. 

You jumped up and went into the kitchen. You didn’t want to talk about any of this. You didn’t want to sound irrational and stupid.

But you had expected Peter to follow you, and he hadn’t. So now you were just… alone in the kitchen. You pretended you needed water and filled a glass. You hadn't planned on telling your first. You figured you’d just have sex one day, and it would be like a hook-up, no big deal. But now that sex was grazing the edges of an actual, loving relationship, lies of omission didn’t feel right anymore.

You turned around, leaned against the counter, and looked at Peter in the living room. He was watching you from the couch, but he still didn’t come in. 

“Are you giving me space so I talk about the thing on my own?”

“Only if it’s working. If it’s not, then I’m definitely not doing that.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“Can we meet in the middle—literally?” He gestured to the hallway between the two rooms. Despite your heavy sigh of annoyance, you were actually relieved. At least one of you wanted to deal with you right now.

You both sat down on the hardwood floor facing each other like little kids about to play one of those hand-clapping games in the schoolyard.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

You sighed. “Do I have to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, great,” you said, and started to get up. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Peter grabbed your wrist. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You can’t help,” you said softly. “Even if you knew what’s going on.”

“Can I decide for myself?”

You gave an “it’s your funeral” type of laugh. “Peter, we’re not the same. We're never gonna be the same.” He stared at you. “You looking at me like I’m crazy is definitely not helping!”

“I’m sorry, I just don't know what you're talking about.” You flinched at the annoyance in his voice.  “Of course we’re never going to be the same, no two people are the same. Why is that a problem? Especially now. Like, this is what you’re thinking about when we’re kissing?” Now he sounded hurt too, and you were starting to well up with tears, so you had to keep your back toward him. “I struggle to form any coherent thoughts when I’m kissing you, but okay. All I want is to feel you and to make you feel good, but okay.”

You could feel a few rogue tears slip down your cheeks. “I knew we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“No, we have to talk about it. If you're not into... this, I have to know. We have to stop.”

That only made you cry harder. “It’s not that, and it's not you.”

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed.

You spun around, tears streaming down your face. “Peter, it’s not you, I promise.” You had to look him in the eye when you said that. He looked hurt more than anything, though his expression softened when he saw you crying. “It’s… sex. More specifically, when we go to have sex and you find out I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He jumped up, but you stepped back away from him, your face on fire with embarrassment. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered. Because you were looking down, you saw that he was pulling his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you kept saying. You hated that you had hurt him, you hated yourself for being like this… there was a lot of self-loathing to go around.

“Let’s just take a breath here.” He gave you his empathetic smile—lips pressed together but eyes concerned—and he used his sleeves to dry your tears.

“Peter, I don’t want to disappoint you. What am I supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to be waiting around for you naked one night and it just happens? Is that how this works? I don’t know, like…?”

“Hey.” Peter held your hands in his. “I don’t know either. You act like I’ve done this a million times and it’s as ‘whatever’ as, I don’t know, buying chocolate milk. It’s not. It’s us.” He shook your hands in his, and you were grateful for the warmth spreading from his palms to yours. “It’s whatever we want it to be. So while I’m certainly not going to object to you waiting around for me naked, I only want that if you want that.” He bumped you lightly with his forehead. 

You were staring down at your intertwined fingers when he asked, gently, “What do you want?”

You glanced up and found him staring at you so sweetly with his big brown eyes. “I want you to be my first,” you whispered. “I want to have that experience with you. But I know that means it probably won’t be very good for you or whatever….”

“Can I be honest with you?”

You braced for impact. “Okay….”

“If I’m honest… the thought of doing it with you is just, like, wow.”

You stared at him. “Are you blushing?”

“Yeah, well, if I think about it too much, I start to get… excited, and we’re trying to have a serious conversation here!”

Your stomach flipped, and your voice was a tiny squeak. “You get excited? Thinking about having sex with me?” Because your anxiety had so overwhelmed the topic of sex, it had left no possibility for Peter to actually want you like that.

He was looking at you like you were nuts. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, and I love you. Not to mention, you’re fucking gorgeous. Like, to get to see and feel all of you… When that happens… I just… I don’t even know what to say.”

You could feel yourself blushing now. You touched his cheek.

“And to be even more honest…” he drew in a shaky breath. “When I had sex in college, I was convinced that I would never be in love again. That’s why just ‘getting it over with’ felt like the best option at the time. I mean, maybe that will ultimately work in our favor and I won’t be complete shit at it for you.” He smiled nervously. “I just never thought someone would know me and love me the way Gwen did. And then you came along. If I had known to just wait a few more years for you, ahh.” He punched the air in frustration.

You nestled into his arms, wishing you could hug away college Peter’s belief that he would never be loved again—especially considering all the love your heart held for him. He kissed the top of your head. 

“First of all, I love you. Secondly, you know…” you mused, “it’s not like I’ve been saving myself or anything, not on purpose. But if it works out that my first time is with someone I really, truly love, then I guess I’m pretty lucky. And I’m sorry that you won’t have that same experience.”

He was quiet for a minute, then said, “Well, maybe I will. Kind of. Because it’s not gonna be just sex for us. It’s gonna be my first real time. It’s going to be the first time it means something.”

You smiled and snuggled more deeply into his arms. As much as you hated having to be so vulnerable (and that was just with words at this point! oh lord), it felt like you both had just freed each other somehow.

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” he said softly. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Part 2 to follow! 🩷🩷

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (35)

***

If it was up to Vander, they'd spend the next week in bed, close and safe and only leaving it to eat and wash. Silco refuses to do that. He doesn't force Vander to go back to work, but lying around in bed without Silco is much less interesting.

He's surprised when Silco volunteers both of them for level one. "You sure?"

"Level three is closed until the engineers come down from Piltover. They need to work out if the coal there is worth the cost of reinforcing it," Silco says, as he signs for a pickaxe and shovel from the store rooms. No charges because they rarely use explosives on the established tunnels of level one. "You might as well be working with your friends."

Vander does enjoy spending the day with Benzo and Felicia. They see Connol a couple times, but he's mostly busy on level two fixing a broken cart. It's easier work. He doesn't have to hunch down to fit into new tunnels; there's space for two people to swing pickaxes. He doesn't constantly feel like he's taking up too much space, too big compared to Silco and the other foundlings.

If anything, Silco's the one who stands out. He seems smaller up here in all this space. He's taller than Felicia, but Felicia has no trouble swinging a pickaxe into bedrock or using a pair of gauntlets. Silco's swings just don't have the same power behind them.

Vander stops for a drink and passes the water flask to Silco. He doesn't even say anything, but Silco takes one look at his face and snarls, "Say one condescending thing and I will gut you."

Behind him, Felicia laughs. "It takes a couple weeks to get used to."

"Oh, great news," Silco says sourly but he listens carefully when Felicia makes suggestions about his stance.

"You need more momentum," she says, swinging her own pickaxe to show him. "If you don't have the power to brute force it, you've just got to hit it faster."

To Silco's credit, he does try to follow Felicia's advice. He straightens his shoulders and copies her stance, but the pile of rocks at his feet doesn't grow in a hurry. When the cart returns, Benzo and Felicia have a pile each, ready to load. Silco's pile might, if he's lucky, fill half a cart.

When the cart comes back the third time, after Benzo and Felicia have loaded their work and marked it off today's quota, Silco looks at his morning's work with dismay.

"You might as well load yours next," he tells Vander.

"Sure," Vander says, "give me a hand."

They load the cart together and wait for the runner to come along with a clipboard. It's a teenager Vander doesn't recognise, but he gives a quick nod to Silco. "Name?"

"Silco," Vander says and the teen looks up in surprise. "I'm just helping him load it."

The kid looks to Silco for confirmation, and only marks the clipboard after Silco nods. After the kid walks away, Silco glares at Vander. "What was the point of that? What good does it do for you to miss quota just for me to meet it?"

"I'll meet quota."

"You're a cart behind now, and–"

"I'll meet quota," Vander insists. He shrugs and figures he should be honest. "I usually exceed quota."

Silco raises one elegant and disbelieving eyebrow. "You exceed it?"

"Up here, where I can take a swing without needing to watch my head? Yeah, I exceed quota."

"By how much?" Silco asks carefully.

"Two carts? Sometimes more."

Silco knows as well as anyone that the quota up here is four carts per miner. On level three, where the work's slower, it's three carts.

"Fine," Silco says eventually but he sounds annoyed about it.

"Fine? You're not going to fight me on this?"

"This is not about accepting charity. This is about making the company pay for every cart we dig for them."

***

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 4

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

"And then, she hits me with a 'I hope I didn’t throw you off!' Can you believe it? She’s a woman who wants to control everything and enjoys provoking people—provoking  me  specifically!"

“Well, this sounds promising,” Alessia teased. “I didn’t think she was like that; she seemed nice at the kids' Christmas party at the hospital.”

“Oh yeah, the Dragon has two faces! They’re the worst kind. She’s a real actress.”

Sitting in Alessia’s living room, we’d just finished a platter of sushi. She was laughing. Alessia, with her Italian roots, had long blond hair and bright eyes. Her laughter and infectious joy made her even more beautiful.

“The Dragon isn’t so bad to look at; you can always admire her if it helps,” she replied with a playful smile.

“Sure, with that personality, I almost didn’t notice her at all,” I replied, with a hint of bad faith.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. Our tongues met in a lively dance as my hands moved along her back and then under her shirt to touch her soft, warm skin. She suddenly pulled away from my embrace.

“Is something wrong?”

“No… it’s just… we talked about this, how we should stop if we want to move on.”

She said it in a weary voice, and I frowned.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, it’s not that. But how can we move on if we keep ending up in bed every few days?”

We’d been apart for almost a year now, without drama but with a lot of sadness. She was in a surgical program that would take her to Canada in a year, and her schedule was relentless. And with my own demanding schedule, our lives had gradually drifted apart. After yet another breakup and the usual reproaches, we’d separated. We hadn’t been in touch for months until I reached out a few weeks ago. Her scent, her voice, her laughter—I’d missed it all. And, of course, we ended up in each other’s arms, which maybe wasn’t the best idea. Since then, although neither of us considered getting back together, rarely a week went by without us finding ourselves together again.

Her comment stung. Sarcastically, I replied, “Excuse me, but the sushi and candle setup made me think this was going somewhere else tonight.”

“Come on, don’t take it that way. It’s complicated; I want to see you too. But where are we going with this? The first one of us who meets someone just leaves? Since we’re not getting back together, right?”

She threw this at me, challenging me with her deep brown eyes, almost black.

“Are you planning to work fewer than 150 hours a week? And not going to Canada?”

I’d hit a sore spot—Canada, the real cause of our breakup. She’d accepted the program without consulting me, and I’d felt left out of her life as she forged her own path without me.

“Do we really have to talk about this again? You know my workload will be much lighter in a year, and you could have come to Canada!”

“Oh sure, like I was so well included in your great plans! I’d just bought my firm, and then you announced all this! So no, let’s not talk about it. Anyway, after today, I’m done here. I’m leaving.”

I grabbed my coat and headed toward the door. She followed me immediately, grabbing my arm, pushing me against the wall, taking my face in her hands, and leaning in close to my ear.

“Stay. It’s too hard. I need you.”

Her words electrified my entire body. I let my coat drop and kissed her passionately. Our tongues joined in a fierce rhythm as I leaned against the wall, breathless. Alessia unbuttoned my blouse, letting it fall immediately. She began to kiss my neck, moving slowly down to my breasts, which she caressed gently. Her tongue circled my hardened nipples, aroused by the waves of desire flooding through my body. Her hand wandered along my thigh, moving dangerously close to my lower belly. She unbuttoned my jeans, slipping them down; I was at her mercy now, in only my black thong, standing before her. As she continued to tease my nipples, her hand gently stroked me through my underwear. She began applying pressure to my clit, making me moan even louder. She then moved lower with her mouth. I decided to shed the last barrier between us. She started kissing my intimate area, licking my lips while lightly touching my clit. She knew me by heart—my body, how to make me feel pleasure. Feeling my excitement, she slid one finger, then two, inside me, moving them faster and faster, while never stopping her tantalizing strokes with her tongue. The pleasure built within me like a sudden fire. My moans grew louder, my hands in her hair. I moved my body to feel her tongue, her fingers,  her , even more deeply within me. I finally climaxed, shuddering with pleasure. She slowly moved back up, covering my body with kisses until she reached my lips and gently bit them. I felt so vulnerable, naked in front of her while she was still fully dressed. I smiled.

“What are you smiling about, miss?” she asked, with a mischievous grin.

“I think I’m standing naked in a hallway in front of a fully clothed person; we might need to remedy this. Would you happen to have a bedroom?”

We laughed heartily. I took her hand and led her to her bedroom—our former bedroom—ready to put her through the same wonderful torment.

[marauders-bs]

part 2! part one part pre

TW THIS CONTAINS WALBURGA, deadnaming, internalized transphobia, suicide joke (it's dorcas and barty)

@r0seprincess it's late but we love the meadowes family :3

Now, Dorcas was in the Ravenclaw common room. The straw-haired boy, Barty, was draped across a couch while the twins were lying on the ground. Regulus was there too, only just entering the scene as the memory began.

"Barty," Regulus said, unwrapping a scarf from his neck. "Please tell me why the riddles to get in to this tower are so easy."

"They're not supposed to be," Barty replied. "Also, your hair's getting long, Cas. You want me to cut it?"

"And have to make a hair growth potion because you can't even cut your own hair? I think not, Junior," Dorcas responded, grabbing a Potions book out of her bag. Regulus walked over to lean behind her chair. In a voice Hermione could only hear because it was Dorcas's memory, he began to list off everything that needed to be changed about the potion.

A look out the window told Hermione that it was now winter.

Harry drifted over to her, nudging her arm. "Did you hear what Dorcas called him?" he asked. "Junior. His name is Barty. D'you think that's Barty Crouch Junior?"

"Probably," Hermione answered. "What about it?"

"He seems normal," Harry responded. "I wasn't expecting that."

-

"I'm gonna study," Regulus announced before the scene really came into focus.

"Reg, with love and respect, it's not even six in the morning yet," Dorcas said. Looking around, Hermione saw that they appeared to be in some kind of common room, but not one Hermione had ever seen.

"Yeah, and?" Regulus asked. "Bat left an hour ago."

"Bat does that," Dorcas said. "You don't. If you want to visit your brother, you can just say that."

"I don't want to see him," Regulus said. "I'm going to study."

"I'm sure you are," Dorcas replied. "Are you going home for Christmas?"

"I don't want to," Regulus said, eyes downcast.

Hermione could actually see the moment when every instinct that raising her siblings had given Dorcas kicked in. "Hey, Reg. Write your parents, see if they'll let you stay at my place for Christmas and maybe the summer."

Regulus's face brightened immediately. "Yeah, I'll do that."

-

The next scene showed Dorcas, hair up in a bun with Jasper riding piggyback, walking towards the door. Someone had very clearly just knocked.

"Good morning, Dorcas," a smooth, rich voice said. Hermione recognized the woman as Walburga Black. "My Ascella informed me that it was alright for her to stay with you?"

Hermione exchanged a mystified glance with the other two before the kid behind Walburga was revealed.

Regulus Black was standing there, in a dress, with long hair, looking distinctly panicked.

Dorcas, however, responded smoothly, addressing Walburga, then Regulus. "Of course. You're always welcome here, no matter what."

"Fantastic," Walburga said, satisfied smile on her face. "Go on, Ascella. You can stay here the summer, as well."

The second she was gone, Dorcas set Jasper down and wrapped her arms around Regulus. "It's alright, Regulus," Dorcas murmured. She put her hands to his shoulders, holding him at arms' length. "Sweet Salazar, boy, you're like a twig. We'll have that fixed in no time. Come on, you can meet my family."

Hermione knew that Dorcas was providing a distraction as she handed June to Regulus and directed Ari to grab the spice rack out of the cupboard. She waved a hand, and Regulus's hair and outfit changed. Suddenly, his hair was the length it had been in the previous memory and he was wearing a black jumper and Muggle jeans.

"Do you know how to bake?" she asked, but Regulus stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Do you not care?" he whispered. "Do you not care that I'm sick and wrong and- and-"

"Shh, Reg," Dorcas said, wrapping him in a hug. "You're not any of those things. If you want, we can go find my mother's old book of Greek mythology and see which Greek god decided to screw over people like you- I think it was Apollo, but I could be wrong."

Regulus looked up at her. "Yeah."

But instead of moving, he just buried his face in Dorcas's shoulder. June latched on to their legs, then Astra and Jasper, and then Ari followed.

That was where the scene whirled on.

-

"Alright, Dorcas, we're leaving you in charge!" Dorcas's grandmother called. "Pandora, Evan, and Barty should be arriving soon- send us an owl when they get here."

"Yep," Dorcas replied, not looking up from the magical mixer. Hermione knew that magical cooking things really couldn't be trusted in the seventies, and it wasn't like Dorcas to trust anything other than herself and maybe her friends.

Sure enough, not thirty seconds after Ari, June, Astra, Jasper, and their grandparents left out the front door, Barty showed up in the fire, whirling in the green.

"Hey," Dorcas said, still not looking up.

"Damn," Barty said. "This place actually looks like someone lives in it."

"That was my thought, too," Regulus said. "Whatever. The twins are staying until Yule Break is over and so am I."

"Me too," Barty said, answering the unspoken question. "Well, Cassie looks very invested, so would you show me around her house?"

"Kill yourself, Crouch," Dorcas said without looking up.

"Rather not," Barty called as Regulus led him away. Dorcas shook her head and laughed a little. Hermione had to wonder if she or Regulus had noticed the fresh bruise on Barty's face and just not mentioned it out of respect, or if they knew and were waiting to grill him on it. She wondered how he had gotten it.

The twins came through next, Evan spinning onto the kitchen floor, immediately followed by Pandora. Dorcas pointed them down the hallway.

"What's down the hallway, your torture dungeon?" Pandora asked.

"Regulus and Barty are already here and getting their rooms. We've only got two to spare, so you boys will be sharing and Dora and I can share," Dorcas replied, turning off the mixer with a wave of her hand and sending it into a piping bag.

Evan nodded and the two of them left. A fast few minutes of Dorcas organizing what looked to be cookies and frosting by color and size. Hermione drifted over, and what she saw made her heart swell. Dorcas had baked cookies in traditional Christmas and Yuletide shapes, snowflakes and ornaments and even little gingerbread men.

It was the sweetest thing Hermione had seen Dorcas do. For the most part, she seemed to keep to herself, but this showed how much she valued her friends even in the few months they'd known each other.

It also showed her how sad Dorcas must have been. Ari was young enough that Dorcas would have raised him and the others for most of her life, and a year without anyone relying on her had to be a shock to the system. It was clear she'd immediately adopted Pandora, Evan, Barty and Regulus.

Soon enough, the four came into the kitchen. Pandora was talking animatedly in Barty's direction, and Regulus and Evan were speaking quietly just behind them.

"Dorcas, what's this?" Barty asked, coming up behind her where she was adding tips to piping bags by hand.

"Cookies for decorating," Dorcas answered. "The kids love eating them and I hate decorating, so I thought we could struggle together."

Evan smiled, grabbing a bag of white icing and a snowflake-shaped cookie. He began to pipe icing designs, and Regulus followed his lead with red icing and a Santa hat. Barty and Pandora shrugged at each other, and Barty picked up a star. Pandora picked up a gingerbread man.

Hermione smiled at the scene. Dorcas finished putting the tip on the final bag and began to decorate a cookie in between Regulus and Barty, all of them smiling and joking with Muggle Christmas carols playing softly in the backround.

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 7

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / next

☆☆☆

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.

☆☆☆

The clattering of cutlery let her know that she’d said something wrong. She froze in her seat as the kings eyes narrowed in on her. “Where did you hear that?”

“What, I didn’t-”

“Answer me, girl. Where did you hear that?” He was standing now, his presence menacing. “Besides, there’s no way a regular girl like you would’ve been able to take out all of those men. So, tell me, how did you do it? Are you another test? Another monster? What are you? Why are you here? I will not let you get in the way of-”

“That’s enough, my love.” Penelope interrupted her husband’s tirade. “This is your son’s greatest friend, the daughter of your own greatest friend, she’s no test. You’re just on high alert from all the years away from home.”

“You don’t understand, she-”

But Penelope shushed him. “I think it’s time for bed. Ónoma, you’re welcome to stay the night, Telemachus will walk you to your room.” Then she walked away, leading a visibly shaken Odysseus out of the room.

“I don’t understand, what did I say wrong?” Peach, too, was pretty shaken from the king’s outburst. Understandably so, as the man had taken on 108 suitors without knowing she’d be there to help.

“It’s fine Ónoma, he’s been having these outbursts since he got back.” Telemachus soothed his friend.

“Yeah, something similar happened when I mentioned how much luck he must have had to be the only one of 600 to return home.” Ctimene added.

“I can’t imagine what he must have faced during all those years away.” Peach muttered.

☆☆☆

“I can stay the night, if you want me to? It’ll be like when we were kids.” Telemachus offered, as the two sat on her bed. Whenever she’d stay at the castle, she would be given the same guest room, over time she’d let some of her belongings accumulate there.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I wouldn’t want to get on your fathers bad side. At least, not more than I already am.”

“C’mon Peach, it’s really not like that. He’s just on edge.”

“And yet I understand his concern.” Ónoma countered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I killed those men, Tele. They’re dead because of me, I don’t even know how I was able tot do it, what if I am a monst-”

“Enough of that.” Her friend said sternly. “You did it to protect my mother, and let’s be honest, yourself too. I don’t want to think about what the suitor would’ve done had you not been able to fend them off, or did you forget that you, too, are a woman?”

Her heart dropped at her friend’s words. “Of course I didn’t forget! That’s why I did it!” She raged. “I can’t afford to show mercy, not to those beasts, anyways.” She continued, softer, realisation hitting her. “Thank you, Tele.” She murmured. “I needed that.”

“I know.”

Outside of her bedroom window, an owl was perched. It hooted, before flying off. Telemachus softly shook his head, Peach thought it to be at her behaviour, but in reality it had been at his mentor’s antics.

☆☆☆

The next morning, Peach had left before breakfast, before anyone else had woken up, even. Telemachus’ and Ctimene’s attempt to play off the king’s outburst had not calmed her one bit. Even if they were speaking the truth, she did not want to set the man off again. Perhaps once the king had settled more she’d speak to him again, or if he sought her out.

When she returned home, she wasn’t ready to face Perikles, so she kept walking, now with her beloved instrument in hand. She settled somewhere along the shore, feet in the water, the sun slowly rising. She played mindlessly, softly humming a matching melody. Music always calmed her.

But now it seemed calmness was not something she would get, as the familiar but unfamiliar voice rang in her head once more. “So, you’re devoted to my brother, then? Pity. Usually, his followers are more seasoned with a bow, axes are more Hephaestus’ thing, or Demeter’s maybe.”

What? At least the word brother clued her in that this was a God, or Goddess. Someone related to Apollo.

“You’re quick to catch on, if not Apollo then Athena, maybe? Who do you work with, or worship, I should say.”

Well, oh mighty God of gossip, I don’t really ‘work with’ anyone. Just whoever fits the occasion, really.

“You’re bold, anyone else might’ve taken offence with such a tone? Can it even be considered a tone if it’s just your thoughts? I’ll have to ask Athena next time I run into her.”

Can you please get to the point? Or leave me alone? Whoever you are anyway.

“Feisty, put the claws away, darling. I would have loved to tell you my name, but you never asked. You have to actually ask questions to get answers, you know.”

…

“Go on, darling. Ask.”

What’s your name?

“Well at least I got the message across, the name’s Hermes. I actually came here to deliver a message, but you were just too much fun to mess with.”

What is the message?

“Straight to the point, huh? Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I never said that the message was for you, I mean, it is, but still.”

…

“Did you know that the Lyre used to be mine? I gave it to my brother in exchange for his cows when I was just a babe, I’m still quite fond of it. You play beautifully, who taught you?”

Would you please tell me of the message you bring, oh great lord Hermes?

“No.”

Please?

“At least your manners have improved, but no. You tell me who taught you to play, and I tell you the message. An exchange of information, a trade, if you will.”

Right, God of merchants. I taught myself, my brother once broke my Lyre, because of how bad I was at playing at the time. I suppose I’ve improved since.

“Oh, that was your brother? Apollo smote him real good, bet he learned his lesson.”

Dead men don’t learn.

“Now, now, why so serious, oh right the message! Your brother has reunited with your father!”

My dead father?

“Exactly, now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to resume playing.”

next

☆☆☆

A/N: girly is going through it. Also, I don’t mean for Hermes to come off as rude, rather as mischievous. He is a God, one who often visits the underworld at that, so he would not really understand the grief of mortals. I also want to portray the duality of Ctimene’s grief and relief some more, and I definitely want to dive into Odysseus’ PTSD. Maybe show some of Penelope’s caution around men too, dealing with those suitors for so long would’ve definitely made a person a bit jumpy.

Taglist:

@suckerforblondies

@barrythestrawberry041

@trashcannotbealive

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@doodle-with-rhy

[otomiyaa]

Three Times Happy

Tony & Peter

[Fic Reupload] - Another random 2018 fic :) Saw a new comment on AO3 and got reminded of its existence.

Summary: Tony has to deal with a sad sulky Peter in his car, and he’s not having it. He will cheer him up, he definitely will... In his own way. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.8K

“Hey, kid? Come on now. We saved him together,” Tony said to the sulking teen who was sitting next to him in the car, but no positive result came from it. 

Not even a tiny smile. Just everything a sulky kid could do to make an adult feel bad: arms crossed in front of his chest, hanging shoulders, hanging head, dark aura poisoning the car and a frown that looked like it could stay on his forehead forever if he wouldn’t quit this real soon.

“Pete..” Tony shook his head and uncomfortably pressed his hand against his own mouth, trying to find words to cheer him up with. It wasn’t that he could help it. Alright, just, since all the events in space, Peter vanishing and then un-vanishing and all that, just the awful fear of getting Peter in danger, losing him again, eh well yeah. 

Just... Very long story short: Tony now kind of spied on him like 24/7, and if it wasn’t him it was his newest suit doing it, specially made for protecting teenage superhero sons of which he only had one. 

And well, today they found Spider-Man going into some serious danger zone that definitely could not be counted as friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man activities, no like real death- danger. So yeah of course Peter couldn’t handle it, he’s good but this was real Avenger stuff. Adult Avenger with a lot of experience- stuff. 

So result was that Tony had to save both Peter and the man he was saving after which Tony + Peter-Protection-Suit joined and finished the fight. 

It wasn’t thanks to Peter, no, that the man got saved (well maybe indirectly because Peter’s presence lured Tony out of his lab to save them). But it also wasn’t thanks to Peter that the man who needed saving was now in the hospital with serious injury. And in a coma, minor detail.

“We caught the baddie,” Tony said, giving another attempt at cheering Peter up.

“You did.”

“...and Mr. Holt is alive and doing...uh.. maybe doing not so well, but alive. In a few weeks he’ll be awake, playing golf again, going to the zoo and all with his wife and kids.” Alright Tony wasn’t so good at this. He could see Happy frown in the rearview, confirming that he wasn’t helping.

“Suck it up Pete,” Happy said, trying to help as well. Peter just gave a long sigh and threw his head back. He then dramatically covered his face with his arms, arching his back as if he was trying to stretch out, and a groaning noise left him.

“I just wish I could save someone too,” he complained. Tony knew what that felt like, and he nodded, staring at Peter’s tummy that was left exposed because of that flexible stretch he was doing.

“Uhuh. I know, And you can. You’re... working on it. Geez kid, you’re young. Don’t make this too hard on yourself. Also, your tum is showing.” Tony poked Peter right in his belly button, causing Peter to suddenly let out a weird noise as he folded back into a normal position. Tony gaped at him, and Peter stared back, since Tony’s hand was now awkwardly trapped between Peter’s legs and torso as he bent forward with this awkward forced smile. Tony smiled back. Suuuddenly, cheering up Peter Parker seemed like it could be a lot easier.

“Can you just not...?  Peter asked him, though that little (forced) smile had to be cute of course, making it so that Tony could not resist to －

“Not what?” He moved his fingers around, just some light wiggling, and Peter was already bending even further down, crushing Tony’s hand between his body while he tried to force his own laughter back.

“Mr. S-Stark, h-hahahand... out...” he tried to warn him, but his cheeks were puffing and though his expression of held back laughter and ticklish misery was looking very weird, it was definitely better than that depressing frown.

“Hahahand out! T-tickles!” Peter said between more weird strangled noises and soft giggled. Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Not tickling you. It’s you who’s trapping my hand, not me. Ohnooo let me go~” Tony said teasingly, just moving his fingers around slightly, and he raised his other hand to push softly against Peter’s shoulder to show him he was deeefinitely trying to free his hand now. 

However the moment he lifted his hand, this made Peter jump in obvious anticipation of more tickles, so Tony smiled fondly at that. 

Peter just giggled softly, biting them back as much as he could, and he squirmed and tried to move his body back so Tony could get his hand outta the danger-zone, but Tony could see the hesitation on his face. Tony’s smirk was probably just making it clear that the moment he’d get his hand back, he would do much worse than this. His other hand already squeezed Peter’s shoulder tighter, showing him he had his grip on him and was not going to let him go before he was smiling genuinely. 

Happy judged them from the rearview and just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Just fucking tickle him already,” he finally said. He was kinda right, he deserved it. Tony just pulled his hand out, moved his other hand, and went straight for both Peter’s sides. Peter yelped and jumped, pulling his knees up and squirming and wriggling, but unable to fight the tickle attack. 

“Ha, that’s more like it. See? I do know how to cheer people up,” Tony said proudly - both to himself, Happy and ticklish Peter - as he danced his fingers all over Peter’s sides, making him laugh and squeak. 

“Nohohot helping! Ahaha Mr. Stahahark!” Peter whined. He still sounded too whiny, so Tony just exchanged glances with Happy and he shook his head in disapproval.

“Do your worst,” Happy encouraged. 

“Yeah, guess I will.”

“Fuhuhuhuck!” Peter cried, and Tony looked back at him and smirked.

So that asked for a little journey upwards, past his ribs that definitely got a few squeezes, but it was Peter’s underarms that were ticklish goldmines. So Tony just shoved his hands in there and tickled Peter’s armpits mercilessly, with wiggling, scratching and digging fingers, however he pleased.

“AAHAh! Nooohohhoo! Stop-Stahahap pleaaase!” he cried, turning and twisting, but caught by his seatbelt. Tony spotted a hand- a Spider-Man hand ready to attack him, so he quickly snatched his wrist and pinned it down above Peter’s head so he had even better access to his armpit (aaand so he would not get webbed).

“Nice try kid, but hey, is that a ticklish armpit?” He knew Peter hated it when he teased him like that, which is why he obviously did it. The blush that was already covering his cheeks was suddenly ten times worse from the moment he started the childish baby-talk.

“Oh and what about here? It’s the cheer-up button that started it all!” He poked his belly button to get him by surprise, and Peter just howled with hysterical laughter.

“AHahalright! Alriiiight!” he yelled loudly. Both Happy and Tony laughed, and he finally released Peter and let him breathe. Peter just leaned down and grabbed his own stomach, catching his breath.

“So, now that you’re feeling better, let’s get some donuts and a milkshake,” Tony said, but suddenly a shoe was on his leg. He looked to his side to see Peter kicking him softly, still looking tired and breathless.

“You s-suuuck, Mr. Stark..” he wheezed. Tony raised his eyebrows, looked at Happy in pure amazement and shock, and then back at Peter. Some guts that kid had!

“You’re kidding?” he asked politely. Peter shook his head. 

“No?” Tony just gasped with over-exaggerated surprise, picked up Peter’s leg that was doing the kicking (and dirtying his beloved jeans), and he pulled it on top of his lap. He then began to scribble his fingers over the back of his knee as if he was having some serious Guitar Hero showdown with Steve － well, the result was priceless. 

Peter exploded with high pitched giggles, yelling in surprise that he had to stop like: “Ohhohh! Noooonono not there! S-sohorry! I didn’t mean it! Stooop! Not the- HAaahha!” Peter struggled and writhed, shaking his head hysterically and making just hilarious movements.

“That’s what I thought!” Tony said after giving him a good dose of that, and he finally let go of his leg and ruffled his hair. Peter just greedily breathed in and out, recovering from the tickle attack plus its sequel, and Tony just kept rubbing his head.

“Please don’t feel bad. I’m proud of what you did today. You may think, he’s in the hospital because of you. Well, maybe he is. But he could’ve also been dead, with baddie-bot on the loose. That is, if you hadn’t saved him, and sorta alarmed me. But... You saved him Pete, you really did. His family is thankful. And Mr. Holt is probaby thanking you too, in his coma.” Happy again looked not so happy and maybe he was right, but by now Peter was just laughing softly at Tony’s stupid attempts at cheering him up.

“All good. I am cheered up, you made sure of that,” he said tiredly, and the big smile that had been forced on his face earlier was still there. Tony smiled in relief. 

“You know what really would make it better?” he added. Tony’s heart sank when Peter smirked.

“Oh seriously, fiiiine,” he finally said, and he already spread his arms to allow the kid to hug him. Yeah, Peter was a hugger. Tony not really, but he was getting there, and it was actually quite cute. Very cute. Too cute, which was why he was just not too fond of Peter hugging him. There was only a certain level of cuteness that the Spider-kid was allowed to display or it would be bad for his heart.

“Oh come on you guys,” Happy sighed at the cheesy hug on the backseat.

“Hehe,” Tony chuckled, and Peter suddenly spazzed in his arms when he squeezed both of his sides.

“Mr. Stark!” he chirped, pulling himself free and backing away. Ohhh that was a looot of energy he still had left to squeak and struggle like that.

“How long til’ those donuts?” Tony asked. Happy viewed the navigation.

“Just three more minutes.” Tony smirked wickedly at Peter, who immediately panicked, trying to climb towards the front-seat while loudly yelling: “NO! Nonono Mr. Stark - Hahahappy save me! Nooooo!” 

And Tony just indulged himself in some ticklish Spiderkid for threee more cheerful minutes, resulting in a happy Happy, a happy Tony and luckily, a happy Peter. All good.

[missmarveledsblog]

Once in a lifetime kinda deal (Mafia!Bucky Barnes x reader)

Part one: Father dearest what ?

Summary: When the daughter of Tony Stark is in an arranged marriage with her bodyguard's best friend. Another mafia boss James Barnes the two find themselves liking the arrangement more than expected although the life of a mafia boss is never smooth sailing

Warnings: strong language , fast burn , goofy, Tony starks sarcasm , readers sarcastic ass , mafia au , age gap (legal reader 24 , buckys 40s )

To say it was awkward was probably an understatement, what was supposed to be a regular job suddenly went tits up and in a fast way hell she was only doing the job to pay for college . She, as well as three  of her coworkers, sat in some kitchen while watching the rain outside poured down , kids long gone while they waited to be paid . Being fairies for kids parties was fun most times, while other times not so fun especially with some creep of a  dad  was slipping numbers in the straps of their dresses  with a slimy wink was definitely a downside. Another was the owner gave them alcohol while they waited and now she sat with three drunk fairies . didn’t help when they did leave , they could barely stand so she was the one to apologize  only for the father to slip his number and ask her to work his club sometime.  With a a polite rejection ,  she went out to the car , lucky for her it was her uncle to collect them .

“ Hey, have fun girls” he chuckled.

“ they sure did happy ” she rolled her eyes .

“ bad one huh?” he asked.

“ well other than creepy dads and spoiled kids it was a great one” she huffed pullin a sweatshirt over herself.

“ Come on, we get food in them,” he laughed. She ignored their slurred chats with her uncle knowing he was being his gentleman self to make sure they ate  before getting them home.

“ Why do you do this?” Maya slurred.

“ because I want to pay for my own college” she shrugged.

“ but your dad’s one of the richest dudes, and you got hot uncles , happy abd the adonis” Maya whined.

“ Probably because of their gangsters,” Kelly whispered .  She just rolled her eyes knowing they were dying to say it and now with the bravery of the alcohol .

“ ok girls we're here” he called opening the door seeing it was one of the many places her dad was the owner of  pulling off the sweatshirt she ran into the restaurant getting out of the rain .

“ you ok” her uncle asked again .

“i’m fine least they said it instead of tip-toeing” she laughed as the two walked in.

“ no alcohol for them” he called as the waiter walked over to the table as the girl collectively whine. “ i’ll see if your dad’s here” he smiled before leaving her to the other drunk fairies.

“ this place is insane” the girls  giggled and snorted .

“ yeah it’s something” she hummed wishing she went home instead .

“ what can i get you ladies” the waiter eyed them up sleazy grin on his face.

“ some burgers and fries please” she smiled but the man look at her like she asked for his social security and pay check in one.

“ we don’t do that here the denny’s down the road might be more your pace” he scoffed.

“ i always have cheese burgers here and don’t assume from how were dressed ..” .

“ that your strippers trying to eat and run” he snickered.

“ hey her daddy runs this place” kelly stood swaying slightly.

“ sugar daddies don’t count” he rolled his eyes . “ look girls i’m not missing out on actual customers so ..”  He was cut off by the sound of a clearing of a throat.

“ Mr. Rogers,” he gasped.

“ hey stevie happy’s gone see if dad’s here” she smiled as the mans face paled.

“ hey pretty girl” sam walked up .

“ so burger and fries thank you” she turned to the waiter.

“ right away miss stark” he ran off .

“ wow that was so cool” kelly laughed.

“ girls have fun” sam winked making them giggle like school girls .

“ they did  i guess my dad is actually here” she nodded.

“ why am i seeing fairies” a voice called .

“ because pretty girl here works as one for parties duh” sam scoffed .

“ kids parties” she corrected .

“ we could change that for you guys” maya winked.

“ they could i still do kids parties” she laughed

.  “Damn shame” the mysterious stranger smirked .

“ so hows college going” steve asked playfully pushing the man at his side  .

“ kicking my ass but i love it” she smiled brightly.

“ princess  boss wants to see you” happy called .

“ oh great” she huffed .

“ Happy, can you watch them” she pleaded.

“ course i can '' he smiled  as she walked by as the men followed after.

“ so the boss rents out fairies now” the stranger asked.

“ only on Saturdays, '' she called back .

'' So what are  you a sugar baby? '' the stranger asked again .

“ bucky shut up, '' Steve hissed.

“ i’m better than a sugar baby” was all she said before the men nodded.

“ shit is that his wife” she could hear him whisper.

“ new guy shush” she laughed as they walked into the room .

“ my beautiful daughter everyone” she looked as her father stood and they followed .  “ Hey dad , it’s nice to meet you all” she smiled .

“ Are you still doing that kid party thing?” he asked.

“No, I dressed like this for fun” she rolled her eyes .

“ its cute kid, '' Rhodey laughed.

'' Come on sit, happy's gonna bring your friends home” her father smiled, almost too friendly for her liking .

“ what’s going on? '' she whispered to Natasha Romanoff, one of her fathers favorite co-workers, giving the woman's looks and abilities to get a job done quick and easy and her mothers sister.

“ i’m sorry” was all she said .

“  so you're all here for the partly all of you men have been selected for a reason  , one of you is a suitable suitor for my dearest Y/N  here” she heard the words as clear as day yet it wasn’t like she did at all . she knew it was coming. Most girls in this life were basically sold off  to strengthen the business side of things.

“ Wait tony think about this” rhodey almost spat his drink .

“ I did it’s time” he dismissed him instantly. “ Dad, may I speak to you privately?” she asked sweetly .

“ Of course pumpkin” he smiled as she led the way only for Bruce to open the door .

“ thanks banner” she smiled so forcefully . Once the door was closed she wanted to throw something at her father .

“ What the hell  did you fall and hit your head ? “ was all she could say .

“ Look  I get i blindsided you but it’s all your choice ok , kid people need to know i run tight ship and you're part of that ship” he sighed.

“ What else aren’t you telling me” she looked at him.

“ well it’s peter , he fucked up big time lost a big a shipment” he explained .

“ that why you don’t let kids fucking do this” . “ I know but now I need you to do this for me , I'll make sure you still stay in college and all that good stuff, “ he pleaded .

“ I pick the suitor if I don't like them, it doesn't happen” she said knowing it was only the way she could gain control of the situation .

“done ,  there’s a dress there pep pick it out after she threw a vase at my head” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“ of all my stepmothers she’s my favorite” she smiled sadly knowing why the woman wasn’t here .

“ I'll let you change,” he smiled brightly .

“ kind of you” she scoffed  .

“ Kid it’s either that or Peter pays” he sighed. “ Why do you think i’m doing it ? cause it not for you ” she growled, pulling the dress out .

Steve sat looking around the room pissed off wondering how Tony could do this and by looking at her face she wasn’t expecting it, another thing he knew it was for real . she couldn’t go with any of these men , all animals in their own way especially how Rumlow  was looking at her. That was only telling he would put on the charm but they all knew how he really treated the women in his life , hell the last one found the bottom of a lake more appealing .  He could feel Sam stiffen up as well knowing he and many of the Avengers gang  didn’t like this. They loved Y/N  like a sister or niece and this wasn’t what they wanted for her.  Then like a lightbulb went off in his head he looked to his best friend beside him , He was his own man  nearly  up there with the Starks and he didn’t miss how Bucky froze a little in his spot when he met the stark girl .

“ I need to pull in that favor,” steve whispered.

“ which favor punk” bucky looked around the table he didn’t want her to go with these men they were cruel bastards .

“ when i saved your life , I need you to save another” he whispered.

“ is that why you brought me here?” he arched his brow.

“ no but i mean it works out better this way , come on we can work out details doesn’t need to be a real wedding” steve pleaded.

“ hey I'll cash in my favor too” sam caught on to what they were talking about .

“ Fine, I'll put myself forward as a suitor , she really means this much to you both” he asked as the men nodded.

“ she helped my sister out of a real bad situation , look a girl like her shouldn’t have to do this she a saint amongst sinners” sam sighed.

“ Plus you get in with starks like you want,” Steve added.

“ I'm rethinking that” he shook his head.

“ plus i saw your eyes when you looked at her,” Steve smirked.

“ you need your eyes checked punk” bucky smiled although his best friend wasn’t lying but he felt bad for his lie .

“ Now she agreed gentlemen so let's just have a meal then we can talk another time '' Tony announced taking his seats ignoring the glares from his own men and nat . 

“ What's the deal with it all?” Rumlow smiled.

“ She picks the suitor, it's her choice and her rules” Tony  took his wine . “ If you don't like it, there's the door,” he added.

“ she ok” nat asked.

“ yeah she just changing out of her fairy thing” tony shrugged.

“ i’ll go check on her” nat smiled hand squeezing tony’s shoulder a little harder making the man smile through gritted teeth.

“ malyshka” she asked, coming further into the office.

“ down here” she called laying on the floor.

“ If you want, we can run now. I'll get Bruce to get the car ready” she looked down .

“ And then how will you adopt then?” she looked up at the redhead.

“ doesn’t matter ,  I promised my sister i wouldn’t let you get sold off like she did”she shook her head.

“ my dad isn’t like drekov he’ll let me choose” she smiled sadly.

“ he is a little but look we can go when your ready” the red head mused.

“ i’m doing it nat peter in trouble  my dad’s fault for trusting a kid to do something so big but he’s my brother i have to ” she sighed .

“ well then i’m making sure whoever it is will know the widows will be watching”.

“ i’ve no doubt they will , how is yelena” she asked standing pulling the dress over her head .

“ well lucky she not here is all i can say” she laughed dryly.

“ look i’ll be fine i can take care of myself thanks to you” she winked pulling the black dress over her head .

“ ok he so lied about pepper picking this” she scoffed as the black body con hugged every part of her body .

“ the one she picked out was down to your ankle” nat laughed.

“ hey hand me his jacket there” she called  as she pulled the silver belt off her fairy costume.  Pulling her fathers coat over her it covered her to extent , she look classier then the first choice that was for sure as she pulled the belt around her .

  “ nice job” nat eye appraisingly rake over the impromptu change of attire.

“ well lets do this”she smiled .

“ what are you planning” nat quirked her brow.

“ nothing at all” she smirked as the widow snorted.

He couldn’t believe he was even doing this , he stood in front of tony stark telling him , he was interested in being put into the pool of suitors .

“ I'm surprised I thought you didn't marry barnes” tony asked.

“ a man can change” he shrugged yet their was secret look between the men .

“ i mean business wise he would be the best choice” steve interjected .

“ he’s not wrong but it’s not my choice so i’ll you in” tony nodded .

“ Thanks” he went to walk back to his seat, two men sharing almost a secret exchange .

“ Sit  here , you move” he said as the walker got up .

“ Sir, I could take care of her,” John began.

“ move” tony repeated.  The door swung open and the room went completely quiet  all eyes on her  even though Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away . She looked like a model or angel or both. He wasn't sure yet only to hear a chuckle from his best friend .

“ don’t mind me using your jacket dad, its a bit chilly ” she smiled sweetly but he could see her testing her father almost willing him to say something .

“ yeah it’s nice on you kid , sharon .. i mean pepper picked great” he smiled forcefully.

“ bingo”she smirking as his  eyes narrowed slightly .

“ You look like a great doll” bucky smiled. “Thank you … sorry i didn’t get your name” she held her hand out.

“ jame barnes but friends call me bucky '' he kissed her hand.

'' So sweets what was with the get up before '' Rumlow called.

“ I work as a fairy for kids' parties so I can pay for my own college fees” she smiled.

“ daddy can’t pay, ''he snorted.

'' Daddy could buy the whole college but I wanted to be independent in my own way, learning the world around you helps' ' she smiled sweetly yet her grip on the knife suggested otherwise. “ i mean most of the people put on a front for you guys it hard to read them but when you do what i do you find a lot more under the surface” she added. “ i like that , what do you do in college doll” bucky asked.

“ she is a business and law major” tony cut in actually sounding proud.

“ nah girls belong at home this modern shit fills their heads with crap” rumlow laughed. “ i think it’s great y/n’s smart as hell” steve smiled proudly.

“ i agree with rogers” clint winked .

“ good thing im a women and not a girl then “

“ so doll what’s the fairy business like” bucky smiled.

“ kids are great well sometimes it’s the parents that suck , i mean i think the dad today thought he was getting lucky getting the girls drunk but happy came and got us” she nodded her grip relaxing on the knife.

“ speaking of happy informed me they got back safe” her father smiled.

“ good lets eat i’m starving” she called as the same waiter from before came in hands shaking as he placed the food down .

“ would you like anything else ma’am” he asked a tremble in his voice.

“ nah we’re good thank you” .

“ what was that about” her father asked.

“ nothing misunderstanding” she shrugged.

“ exactly i learned my lesson sir” he squeaked as she nodded. “ fine go” he wave his hand. 

“глупый идиот

(silly idiot)”she giggled as nat laughed.

“он безобидная кукла

(he’s harmless doll)” bucky smirked.

“ stop talking russian darling it’s rude” her father hissed.

“ you don’t speak it , none of you?” she asked as they all shook their heads.   She looked down at her phone to see message from steve “ lift home with me” . she gave him a quick nod before turning her head to listen to the stupid stories of the men around her. It was an hours later most of the men starting to slur words and braver with their words and praises making her uncomfortable even her father could see it.

“ time for you to go” he clapped his hand.

“ i’ll take her i haven’t drank “ steve stood . “great thanks rogers entertainments coming anyways” tony smirked as the women walked in half dressed in next to nothing .

“ now the real show is here” rumlow smirked . “ i’m going to head off too” bucky stood just as a woman went to sit on his lap .

“ let me walk you out”her father smiled .   she only glared at her father seeing the rest of the so call entertainment walking by .

“ don’t get any of these pregnant pepper wouldn’t be happy” she scoffed .

“ pepper is coming too” he rolled his eyes.

“  ok was nice meeting you bucky” she said shaking the mans hand before heading out to the car barely looking at her father .

“ i’ll see you later” steve nodded before he followed.

“ you passed test one barnes” was all tony said before walking back into the room as they all cheered. 

She sat in the car looking down at her hands the brave front breaking  once she was out of her fathers presence.

“ look i didn’t know that was happening i would of warned you” he said just as the car opened and the two men  getting in .

“ i know stevie” she smiled wiping her eyes. “ we have a plan  one everyone’s happy with” he said .

“ wait i’m getting in “ a voice called

“ natalia” bucky nodded.

“ ok as i was saying  you still need to marry someone but this way your safe and well yeah” he said .

“ whats the plan” she sniffled as nat took her hand knowing she was being too strong.

“ you pick bucky” sam smirked.

“ you’ll get your own room in my place , continue college all you need to do is come to events and stuff with me” he smiled softly.

“ why you helping” nat asked.

“ because these punks begged me and i hate the whole marriage business thing” he sighed.

“ so whats the catch” she asked.

“ none , having a wife and part of your dads business helps me and well you don’t end up a slave for those assholes in there” he explained.

“ steve how much do you trust his word” she asked.

“ with my life it’s why i suggested it” steve promised.

“ sam?” .

“ same as steve , look pretty girl its bucky or Rumlow” sam sighed.

“ i’ll text my father” she nodded. “ leave it till tomorrow ,make it look like its not a plan” bucky nodded.

“ well  boys for this you got the trust and business with the widows” nat smiled .

“ another thing  you have to let me pay for your college” bucky added.

“ i like my job” she lied.

“ i mean if you wanna be fairy you can but i pay for your college” he shook his head.

“ oh i got invited to breakfast at yours so i guess i’ll see you in the morning too” he winked . nat watched the two before she smiled looking at steve in the mirror two sharing a knowing smirk of what would unfold.

“ no mistresses in the house if you do that do it in hotel” she added.

“ i don’t do mistresses doll” he said she almost believed him .

“  you gave up the whole playboy thing right?” nat asked making the girl beside her head spin .

“ i did  got sick of the show , you done your research romanoff” he chuckled.

“ i make sure my niece is  safe” she shrugged.

“ speaking of Yelena going to have tony’s balls for this” steve chuckled.

“ oh that’s a long line trust me” nat rolled her eyes.

“ So why are you agreeing to this?” Bucky asked.

“ You can tell him princess,” Steve nodded.

“ My little brother , well he is not actually my brother but he is , my dad took him in as a debt repayment when he was like two  , I was six  anyways my dad trusted him with a big job that well has us in this mess” she sighed. “ Wait parker? He like a child wait again how old are you” he asked.

“Twenty four  ” she shrugged.

“ oh great midlife crisis marriage” bucky sighed ignoring how good the sound of her giggles were to his ears.

“ well lucky the marriage is for show huh old man” she winked .

“ already busting my balls” he teased.

“ oh this is gonna be good” sam chuckled .

Once nat brought her up making sure she was ok , she sat looking around her room probably last she would see of it knowing her father would rush the union once decided. Stripping the remains of her clothes she sent her boss that she was leaving  the job.  Before she jumped into pair of shorts and sweatshirt on pulling out her textbooks  laying them all around the bed . steve and  sam all asking how she was so she sent them a selfie of her studying ,  she looked down to see an unknown number ringing.

“ you’ll get a bad back studying like that doll” she couldn’t help smile at the familiar voice. “ well mr barnes how in the word did you get my number” she chewed on the pen suddenly the words on the page were not as interesting .

“ i may of saw the selfie and felt left out” he teased .

“  steve?” she asked.

“ i asked your dad for your number too” she could hear his grin in the phone.

“ for a selfie of me in my dorky state” she laughed.

“ hey what can i say dorky chicks are needed” . “ well if that's it ,  i need to dork it out some more big test coming up” she giggled .

“ oh talk dirty for me baby” he joked his laugh taking over .

“ good night barnes” she snorted.

“ good night doll” he chuckled .  she could help the  flush to her cheeks  could she blame herself no  , not at all man was sex on legs and knew it.

“ Y/N” She could here the sadness in his voice.

“ hey petey come on” she called place  her phone down what she didn’t know was she hit the hang up  button .

“ m’sorry i got you dragged into this , maybe if i talk to dad i could sort it out  , i’ll work for whoever” he started pacing the room .

“ hey it’s ok look dad prick for even getting you to do such a big job , where was i when this was decided” she asked .

“ ballet classes or maybe away with the fairies” he teased .

“ ok funny boy look shit head i got it sorted well steve does so what i want you to do in return is be a kid not deal with this shit just to prove something to dad cause you don’t have to now like a good big sister i seen you got into MIT so if i do this you gotta do that for me” she hugged him unaware of the third party listening in on the phone.

“ please don’t tell me it’s rumlow” peter asked.

“ nah definitely not this guys nice and not just nice front but he seems like a good guy” she nodded.

“Good guys in the mob?” he arched his brow. “ hey their not all ass grabbing alcoholics” she winked making him chuckle.

“ you think dad would let me go MIT” he asked .

“ i’ll talk to him tomorrow at breakfast when you meet bucky”she smiled .

“ looking forward to it doll” the voice called. “ you know it rude to listen to a private conversations” she said as her face heated up . “ hey kid i’ll talk to your dad too bye doll” he called making her hang up and throw herself into her pillow.

“Was that him?” peter squeaked.

“ uh huh” her voice muffled .

“ whats got you smiling” steve walked in .

“ she really loves that kid huh?” bucky shook his head.

“ peter of course he’s good kid not made for this life , his folk owed money but couldn’t pay stark went to pay them a visit and well took the kid as payment mainly because they weren’t able to look after him cared more about drugs turns out that night the dad went on rampage snapped on the drugs and killed a bunch of people” steve shook his head.

“ did you know she did ballet” he asked .

“ course i did , drove her most her lessons makes her feel closer to her mom” he arched his brow but he wasn’t blind he could see it on his best friend already smitten .

“ is the big bad barnes crushing on his soon to be wife” steve teased.

“ nah just nice to see caring souls in this line of work is all” he shrugged.

“ So you are asking Stark for her number?”.

“  i asked stark to arrange it once she tells him yes its a done deal” bucky shrugged ignoring his friends looks .

“ you already asked” steves eye widened .

“ actually stark rang me and i asked him to arrange it after she says yes” he smirked.

“ you  think maybe you should tell her this or maybe everything else you failed to mention in the car” steve looked around the room knowing it wouldn’t be a secret for long.

“ look let's just get this breakfast over, I'll tell her tomorrow.” he sighed, making himself a drink .

“ you know i can read you like a book jerk '' Steve chuckled. “ hell even nat spotted it '' he added.

“ i don’t know what your talking about punk it’s just business' ' bucky winked .

'' oh that poor bastard, '' Steve chuckled as his friend walked out the room .

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