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whyareyouhere66 · 1 year ago

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Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff.

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?”

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too-

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New York’s knight in shining armor.

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though.

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least.

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place.

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window.

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous.

Y/n furrows his eyebrows.

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat.

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway.

“Oh.”

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits.

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.”

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses.

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room.

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet.

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy.

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city.

But now, he is in his house. At his table.

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference.

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder.

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on.

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.”

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow.

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…?

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched.

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about.

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall.

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“

Speak of the devil.

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?”

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through.

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave.

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation.

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch.

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father.

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room.

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism?

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it.

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction.

It shouldn’t be working so well.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders.

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind.

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t.

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him.

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice.

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible.

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his friends slapped his arm in amusement.

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating.

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer.

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects.

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name,

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room.

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day.

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors.

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula.

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly.

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip.

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him.

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect.

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door.

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach.

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place.

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands.

Under his mask, he grins.

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring.

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow.

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him.

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge.

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck.

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.” He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm.

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her.

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him.

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top.

Steve feels his stomach drop.

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient.

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do.

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs.

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way.

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap.

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once.

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed.

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet.

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm.

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming.

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest.

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor.

“…Y/n?”

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded.

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom.

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented.

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…”

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth.

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face.

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.” A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes.

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard.

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop.

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.”

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat.

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles.

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.”

#x male reader #Avengers x male reader #Male stark ready #Tony starks son #Avengers x vigilante reader #Peter Parker #tom!peter Parker x male reader #66 recs&replies #Pls say you like it

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otterandterrierwrites · 4 months ago

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happy female orgasm day, y'all!

here are most of my fics were Leia is getting some, if you need inspiration to get it on ;)

hanleia

What it takes to come alive Pre-ESB - Han and Leia decide to take a last chance while trapped and surrounded by hungry monsters. [wc 4,884, 2020]

keep with me forward (all through the night) Pre-ESB - After kissing during an undercover mission, Han and Leia struggle to ignore their feelings as they infiltrate a masquerade gala [wc 19,716, 2019]

All work and no play Pre-ESB - Secretly showering together in the communal 'fresher on base. [wc 2,924, 2021]

Night at the Grand Regent Hotel Sex pollen fic! [wc 7,854, 2022]

A lesson ESB - Leia shows Han what she likes on the trip to Bespin. [wc 710, 2017]

Not quite dirty talk ESB - During the trip to Bespin, Leia accidentally shuts Han out. Luckily, he knows how to draw her out of her shell again. [wc 2,354, 2023]

Dreamscape ESB - Last night together in Cloud City. [wc 986, 2018]

the static of your arms, it is the catalyst RotJ - Reunion sex and feelings after Han is released from the medcenter [wc 3,995, 2020]

Alone time Post-RotJ - Han and Leia find some alone time in a ‘fresher (again) [wc 1,792, 2018]

Something's electric in your blood Post-RotJ - A walk on the beach is interrupted by a storm, and Han and Leia wait it out in a cave. [wc 3,529, 2017]

The best right in a million wrongs Smutty follow-up to the book “Last Shot”. [wc 4,479, 2022]

honey don't feed me (I will come back) vampire AU! [wc 36,000, 2024]

Courting Princess Leia COPL fix-it! [wc 6,940, 2023]

leia/evaan

Hold me tight ‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight Leia deals with her grief and finds comfort in the arms of a fellow Alderaanian woman.[wc 8,406, 2020]

Here comes the spark before the dark Evaan and Leia dress up fancy, and have a hard time keeping their hands off each other. [wc 1,023, 2021]

#hanleia #han x leia #leia organa #han solo #evaan verlaine #star wars fanfiction #(reminder that commenting on smut is NOT weird and would make me happy)

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amberjazmyn · 4 months ago

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happiest memories 🫶

pairing : oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary : all it took was just one photo, a photo from oscar and alessandra piastri's recent wedding that set off four of the couple's happiest memories together.

warnings : just a lot of fluff

a/n : the photo in question will be first and then the memories will be in 'order' and in italics so it makes more sense and the present time will be in normal font. also, claps for me cause this is my first o.p one-shot outside of the f1 grid one-shots!

f1 mclaren driver, oscar and his wife alessandra piastri had just been rearranging their house when alessandra stumbled upon some of her and oscar's wedding photos from 2023. the photo she saw though, in particular, sending good shivers down her spine. the photo in specificity was taken during the speeches at the reception. oscar and alessandra had a very fancy but private sort of wedding in australia. the photo was taken in the hall that held their reception and after party in oscar's hometown of melbourne, victoria. both oscar and alessandra were seen clearly in the photo however, oscar had pulled himself into alessandra since the person saying the speech had made him cry, and it was during that moment that the photographer had taken the photo whilst alessandra giggled lovingly at her husband. a big talk of the wedding was the fact that alessandra had two separate dresses, her ceremony dress, a simple satin, silky long-line dress, and her reception dress, a short dress with sparkling fringe all over it, screaming y2k whilst oscar just changed from his suit jacket to his white button-up, rolling up his sleeves and taking off his bow-tie for the reception.

"...wow, i had completely forgotten about this photo..." alessandra trailed off as she looked up to her husband who could only smile and nod his head

"...i did too to be quite honest. forgot that they had the full shot of me crying *giggles* i thought this was the one where you were the majority of the photo and just a slither of me crying and you laughing at me!" oscar joked as alessandra smiled at her husband, also laughing at him

"i mean, in all honesty, i like this photo a lot better than the other one you were talking about. you're cute when you get emotional," alessandra giggled as oscar smiled, shaking his head as he giggled

"i have to say though, this may just be my favourite photo from our wedding..." oscar trailed off as that intrigued his wife

"...how so?" "you'll see," oscar smiled as he opened up a photo album that was titled best friends to lovers

2017

alessandra was new to england but more new to the secondary school that she had just been in. it was lunch time which meant that all the students excitedly flocked outside whereas the older kids tended to take their time. not feeling the need to rush like the thirteen-year-olds who were in their first year of high school. however, alessandra had joined this new high school in year 11, at sixteen and she barely knew anyone.

well, that's a lie. she did know of people who were in her classes but none of them were respectable enough to welcome her into their groups. so, sixteen-year-old alessandra just walked around aimlessly, trying to find her way around the new school that, realistically, she'd only have this year and next year in since she would be a year 12 next year meaning she'd then be graduating. so, in her mind, it didn't bother her too much that no one was making the effort to befriend her when she wasn't making any effort back.

"...hey...umm, you're alessandra kaminski? the new student in year 11?" an out of place australian accent rang out, catching alessandra's attention

looking behind her, she smiled as she saw a boy. it was a boy who was in the same english literature class as her. she thinks his name was oscar? he had gorgeous brown eyes and what looked like blonde, maybe light brown hair with a nervous look in his eyes and smile.

"hi...yeah, i am alessandra, you're....oscar, right?"

"yeah, i'm oscar piastri. i take it you don't know anyone here either?" he smiles shyly as alessandra smiles and nods her head, scooching over so he could sit with her, a smile forming on his face as he quickly took the seat, ignoring the wolf whistles of a second person who was most definitely one of oscar's friends

"yeah...is it kind of obvious at how i'm aimlessly wondering around?" alessandra chuckled dry as oscar laughed and nodded his head, the two of them sharing eye contact

"a little bit, yeah..." oscar chuckled as alessandra did as well as she shyly moved some of her hair behind her ear

"...well, damn, that needs to change then..."

"...hey, osc, i was just looking for you..."

"...oh, i...i am so sorry. was i interrupting anything?" another different, clashing accent rang out suddenly, alessandra shifted her eyes to see who looked like one of oscar's friends standing in front of them

"oh, no, not at all. oscar just noticed the way i was aimlessly wondering around and introduced himself to me. sorry for being rude, i'm alessandra kaminski, the new year 11 student," she introduced herself as she stood up so she could properly shake hands with oscar's friend who smiled back at her - oscar watching at how effortlessly she had just done that

"oh, i was wondering who the new girl was, mind my arrogance for not introducing myself earlier, i'm hamish!" he smiled and introduces himself as alessandra smiled too, it made her feel like she was now suddenly making progress and it seemed as though oscar and hamish noticed that as well

"it's totally fine, hamish! it's kind of my fault too since i'm not making any effort either! but, would you like to stay with us or did you need to grab oscar for something else?" oscar and hamish were shocked to see how kind the new girl was after all the rumours they had heard, the two smiling at each other

"i can stay with you guys, that's totally fine! i was just trying to find osc is all as one minute i was talking with him and the next second i look back and off he's gone somewhere else," hamish giggled which made oscar's face heat up - he seriously bailed out from his friends to introduce himself to her?

"no kidding? anyway, that's cool you can stay with us. besides, still weird that i'll only have this year and next year at this school..." alessandra trailed off as oscar couldn't help but smile at the girl that was sitting very close to him - wanting to find out everything he could about her

"...where did you move from? and why here in london, why didn't you finish high school before moving here if it's just for your last two years?" oscar stammered out nervously, worrying he had overstepped as alessandra smiled

"honestly? my dad's in the army. he had been stationed in australia then italy then spain and now london with some countries inbetween that i'd rather not remember so yeah. it's kind of annoying the round the world trip but, apparently they've promised that this is the last place he's being stationed at so we can actually live outside of the army living quarters so i actually live in an apartment with some friends who are at university," alessandra smiled as oscar listened and held onto every single word she had said, hamish smiling slightly

"wow, that must be really intense. but you're not from australia originally?" hamish asked this time since oscar couldn't seem to find the words this time

"no *giggles* i'm french, i was born and raised in montmatre but left when i was around five as that was when my dad was first deployed and it was to australia. then italy throughout primary school with spain in that as well as i was in spain towards the end of primary school and the beginning of high school with a few other countries sprinkled throughout and now london for my last two years of high school..." alessandra trailed off with a smile, oscar and hamish now understanding the girl's hybrid accent a lot better than they did before the explanation

"...ahh, that makes a lot more sense. but does that mean you're like fluent in many languages?" oscar finally found his voice again as alessandra giggled

"ehh, kind of. my main three are french, english and italian. i'm getting a little better with spanish but not so much but, very slowly i am getting there," alessandra smiled as the bell ending the lunch break rung, signalling it was back to classes as the three teenagers sighed, slightly disappointed their conversation was cut off too early

"well, that was a buzkill but, what class do you have next, aless?" oscar asks as alessandra smiles, his friend clearly realising the slight crush oscar was building

"languages, you?" alessandra giggled at the irony as oscar smiled, pouting though as he noticed he didn't have that lesson but math instead

"the both of us have math but, since it's literally two doors down from languages, we could walk you there? i mean, we're basically best friends so, because of that, best friends don't let other best friends walk to class on their own," oscar smiled shyly as alessandra nodded her head smiling as oscar helped her up from her seat

alessandra started the walk back to the block of classrooms, turning around to see oscar and his (their) friend hamish stalling behind her, giggling, she spoke up, "you boys coming or are you gossiping about your new friend, already?" oscar and hamish paused before shaking their heads

"we're coming alessandra!" they both shouted out which made the three of them giggle, alessandra turning around to continue to walk in the direction of the lockers, leaving the two boys to themselves

"you are totally in love with her osc!" hamish chuckled as oscar rolled his eyes, pushing his friend as they started to speed up to catch up to alessandra

"no, i am not!"

"just wait a year, maybe less..."

"...osc, babe, what were you thinking about?" alessandra rubs her husband's back as he smiles

"2017, when we first met in high school when you were the new kid," oscar smirked as alessandra giggled, showing the photo he had found that had been taken later that day

"holy crap, that feels like it was forever ago now!" alessandra chuckled as oscar nodded his head in agreement

"it really does, hamish really was right..."

june 2018

it was their high school graduation, and maybe one of the very last times the class of 2018 would see each other ever again since, after this, some of the seventeen year olds were moving onto university, others gap years to travel whereas oscar and alessandra were two graduates who were not entirely sure what was going to happen. only because oscar's motorsport dream was becoming more real since he was getting real good in it. whereas, alessandra, she was lost in the middle of whether or not she was going to follow oscar everywhere or if she was going to stay in london after having to move so many times throughout her adolescence due to her father's military job. at their graduation, alessandra was getting an award. of course, she had some knowledge of it but, because they didn't really tell her whether it was for academics or sports or anything else, it just kind of floated away to the back of her mind. she had a feeling it could have been a who's most likey to superlative award of who's most likely to become a couple alongisde oscar but, at the same time, she really didn't think too much of it. because, that would just throw so much more fuel into the fire because technically, that would be the wrong superlative for alessandra and oscar. the last two years, ever since they met for the first time, oscar and alessandra had grown extremely close and was rumoured throughout the whole high school to be dating since they were always seen throughout the school and outside school together. which, when it came to rumours around the high school, people were shocked that hamish wasn't trying to ruin it since it was usually him that would jokingly throw fuel into the fire about the love lives of his two best friends. but, to be funny, oscar and alessandra started to put more fuel in the fire by constantly amping up their hangouts inside and outside of high school.

for the first time this entire night, however, alessandra had walked off from oscar and their table as she had spotted hamish chatting with his older sister lois, fondling her wine since she was over eighteen.

"...hey hamish, lois, can i sit?" alessandra asked sweetly, the grad ceremony not even begun filming or even started yet, hamish & lois' eyes moving from their glasses to the girl, both of them smiling back

"hey aless, course you can," hamish smiled, lois smiling too

"where's osc, thought you'd be joint at the hip," lois chuckled before the three composed themselves, so as to not create too much noise

"of course you did, lois. but, nah, since the cameras aren't rolling, and before the evening starts, thought i'd just frolic around and talk to some people before the ceremony starts, ya know? just to release some nerves," alessandra smiled, making hamish and lois smile back as they empathised with the girl

they knew she was getting an award as well as her graduation certificate and they knew it frightened her. especially because technically, she could've still been named as the "new kid" since oscar and hamish were really her only best friends. after that first meeting, those three were as thick as thieves, never leaving each others line of sight.

"fair, i mean, graduation awards can be quite stressful," lois smiled with a shrug of the shoulders since it wasn't her first time seeing an award ceremony attached to the graduation

"do you think he's realised you've left him?" hamish chuckles at alessandra, playing around with his wine that he was seemingly having trouble even drinking as the french girl chuckled

"i mean, i feel like if he had he'd be going on a manhunt right about now but, i think right now he hasn't noticed, why do you say that mr barker? you suspect mr piastri and i have a thing going on?" alessandra narrowed her eyes at the boy, bringing her hands underneath her chin as her elbows rested against the table as she moves closer to the englishman who giggles hysterically and moves back instinctively, his sister quietly giggling, the three of them thanking heaven that they weren't being filmed right now

"no, why would you think that? am i that obvious?" hamish cackles, his head flailing backwards making alessandra and his sister shut him up so no one else would hear them as they also start giggling

"sssh, unfortunately, yes, you're not as slick as you like to think you are mr barker," alessandra giggles as the three of them calm down

then, just as the three of them calmed down, the principal of the high school made his way on stage to announce the beginning of the graduation service and that the cameras were about to start filming. this then worred the crap out of alessandra, the colour draining from her face since it was the first time at any sort of 'graduation' that she'd also be getting an award outside of her graduation certificate since they didn't do those in any of the other schools in the other countries she lived in. both hamish and lois noticed this and asked the girl if she was okay.

"...aless, you okay?" hamish questioned, snapping alessandra out of her disassociation as she smiled at him and his sister

"yeah, i'm fine, why?" alessandra responded as the two looked at each other in worry

"do you want me to get oscar or do you want me to walk us back to our table for the grad ceremony?" hamish then asked as she smiled and nodded her head

within minutes, hamish with some water had reached oscar and alessandra. downing the two drinks, the trio walked back to their tables for the graduation ceremony.

let's just say that for the rest of the ceremony, oscar and alessandra did not leave each other's sides after the first time failed. that was until it was time for the actual moment the graduates were all called up to get their certification of graduation as well as the award ceremony when alessandra was given her award. and just as she suspected, it was a joint award with oscar but it wasn't the one spoken about earlier. it was an award that gave them the honourable "best friends forever" superlative. and, although oscar won't admit it and didn't for a few years until their eventual wedding, he got a little teary eyed and had a little cry after coming off stage after getting that award alongside alessandra.

"...osc, do you remember when we said goodbye to one another when you left for formula 2 for the second year?" alessandra suddenly asks her husband as he tilts his head, trying to rack his brain of the memory

"i'm trying very hard, why? what happened before i left for formula 2 for the second year?" oscar questioned, leaning against the table as alessandra pointed at a photo that showed the two of them together in the middle of laughter with the other f2 rookies in the background

airport

just one glance was all it took for alessandra to forget what she was about to say to oscar before he would leave for his second season with formula 2. leaving her to take care of their london house whilst she stayed back since she finally decided that she wanted to study paramedicine. all the whilst she happily let oscar grow to become a formula 1 driver now that he was in his second season with formula 2 and seemed to be getting closer and closer to a contract with an f1 team.

with the other rookies and their loved ones watching, it was obvious why alessandra lost all of her train of thought and why it had taken all but one glance to do it. and oscar wasn't so slick either. the two had been trying to find words to one another before oscar's depature for at least five minutes when just as alessandra had finally thought up of something to say, one look into oscar's eyes and it had completely left her mind once again. it was obvious why it was so hard for alessandra to say goodbye to oscar. because it took her back to the days that she'd have to farewell her dad before he'd fly away with the rest of his fellow soldiers when he was in the military. and the same thing would happen, alessandra wouldn't know what to say for so long that when she thought she'd finally had it, it took all but one look between the father and daughter to have what alessandra planned to say to her dad to slip her mind.

finally, after barely finding the words she originally wanted to say again, alessandra spoke up, "...damn it oscar! okay, for those who were wondering, the reason why i forgot what i had planned to say for that long was because of oscar piastri! we were making eye contact, like usual, when oscar just really made eye contact with me, catching me off guard and then everything just went to shit, and i forgot what i wanted to say to him. so, i apologise greatly my dear fellow rookies and rookie family members!" alessandra giggles into one of the rookies cameras since formula 2 wanted it to be filmed so it could then be uploaded to their social media, the drivers returning or joining their first season as she then turned to notice oscar suddenly get all bashful and red in the face

laughing cause she could hear the other rookies giving him some stick, alessandra spoke up again, "now oscar's getting teased by the rookies which is the funniest thing in the world but, it is your fault, oscar!" alessandra joked to the camera as oscar shouted an apology which caused everyone to laugh again, the rookie just continuing to film

"i'm sorry, okay aless?!" oscar shouts as alessandra and the rookies and their families laugh, resulting in the couple, nicknamed oscsandra, also bursting out into laughter

"i know, i was just playing with you, osc!" alessandra giggled as oscar let out a dramatic sigh of relief, the both of them really just teasing everyone at this point

"i take that back actually..." alessandra huffed as oscar's entire body shook in laughter, his head flying back as alessandra had a sly smirk that was twitching at her lips before she also broke

"...you wish!" oscar snickered after he had composed himself from his full-body laugh as alessandra groaned and rolled her eyes after she had composed herself from her laughter as well

"well, shit, i can't win this and, now i'm supposed to let you leave without me? how unfair!" alessandra huffed as oscar and everyone else found this entire interaction between the couple hysterically comedic

"that's because you never do, i always win these things! i would've thought you'd know this by now babe, come on now!" oscar teased, not realising that he had just outed him and alessandra's relationship on camera for the fans of formula 2 and potentially formula 1 to see

as well as the other rookies and their families, causing everyone to scream bloody murder. alessandra's eyes widening and nearly giving herself whiplash from how quickly she turned towards her boyfriend and the camera.

in an attempt to stop the rookies from freaking out over this new revelation, alessandra tried to lessen the imapct, "oscar! no, guys, calm down, oscar and i are not dating..." trailing off at the end only because she knew that there was no way this could be fixed, oscar had seriously just outed his own relationship with alessandra after keeping it private for at best, a year

"...yeah, nah, there is no way we can hide it now, sorry aless!" oscar hushed out after alessandra finished talking to the camera, the rookie completely shook, causing the girl to smile, grabbing her boyfriend's face and kissing it

"it's okay babe, i think it was starting to stress us out a little too much so, i don't mind that everyone knows now..." she trailed off as oscar's face lit up, not just in excitement but also due to the fact he was blushing

"...cool, i agree..." oscar trails off as he giggles, before pulling alessandra in for a kiss causing the both of them to giggle even more as they touched foreheads before hearing the click and seeing the flash of one of the rookie's camera's, making them giggle more

"...babe, i had never felt such fear until that moment i accidentally outed us on camera, in the airport in front of the formula 2 rookies!" oscar chuckled as alessandra giggled hysterically, nodding her head in agreement as they looked at the photo where the memory had come from

"i know! i was mortified but, by the end of it, i didn't care anymore since it did stop the internet from constantly making rumours about us just to stop them from mentioning the other f2 wag rumours," alessandra giggled as oscar nodded his head, giggling too

"honestly, at that point, i think i was too since we were so used to seeing those silly rumours in the magazines for the wrong reasons, i guess we also wanted to prevent that and how it could have potentially ruined f2's image," oscar smiled as he rubbed his hand against his wife's back before giving her a kiss on the cheek and getting up to make dinner whilst alessandra continued to look through the photo album

2023

"...wait, your full name really is oscar jack piastri?" alessandra chuckled

she was currently staying with oscar in london and right now they were at oscar's childhood home he had grown up in after moving from australia to england. she had picked up a photo frame that she hadn't seen until this moment - a baby photo of oscar that had his first, middle and last name engraved in the photo frame

"yeah...it's been like that my entire life, what about it baby?" oscar scoffed as he turned around to see what his wife had gotten into when he realised what she was holding

"why didn't you ever tell me that jack was really your middle name?" there was sort of a sad tinge in alessandra's voice when she asked that and, it saddened but at the same time confused oscar, who had placed the tea towel down and left the kitchen to check on his wife

"i...i'm not sure babe, i guess our middle names really haven't ever come up in conversation since our wedding, why are you asking that babe? i thought it was common knowledge that jack was my middle name. is there something you haven't told me yet?" oscar was genuinely concerned as alessandra scoffed slightly as her husband tilted his head

"jack was the name of my brother that uh, that was stillborn because of an illness that had developed in mum's bloodstream..." alessandra trailed off in embarrassment, placing down oscar's baby picture as she sighed heavily - oscar was never told about that and, whilst it broke his heart, it worried him more so than anything else

"...how many weeks was baby jack, if you don't me asking, when he was born still, babe?" oscar's face was genuinely a look of concern as alessandra smiled slightly as she placed her hand palm down against the old cabinet that had the old childhood photos, including that baby photo of oscar amongst other ones of him with his three sisters, scattered all over it

"at thirty-five weeks, he was also a big little boy..." she trailed off and it was very obvious to oscar that this was a thing that she rarely spoke about and he respected that but, it still hurt his heart as he never knew his mother-in-law went through something like that

"how...how did you and the rest of the family react? how did dad react?" oscar stuttered, feeling like he shouldn't have been asking so many questions but, he couldn't help it and alessandra was slowly smiling - as if talking about this trauma that she had shoved so far down was actually helping her relieve the trauma it gave her

"we were absolutely devastated over it at first. i mean, of course we were. i mean, i refused to talk to her and honestly, sometimes i still do as it's something my step-mum has trouble shutting up about at every family function even though it was a couple of decades ago now. dad was devastated. he was just excited that we were bringing in the eighth kid as we all were however,it started to become obvious that due to the illness in mom's bloodstream that it was either save the baby but kill mum or have a stillborn but still have our mum. and, obviously, we chose the latter," alessandra trailed off as oscar's face fell into furrowed eyebrows with a saddened look on his face

"wow, that...that's awful and, i bet if he was still here, baby jack would have been the sweetest little brother ever!" oscar smiles softly, placing his hand over the top of his wife's who smiled back as she nodded her head

"thanks, osc, never knew i'd reveal that especially so soon after our wedding as it isn't technically my place but, i guess it's just been weighing me down lately..." alessandra trailed off as oscar's smile grew prouder

"...and i'm proud of you my love... also, what's your middle name? you didn't tell me at the wedding so i had to stand there red-faced whilst my full name was recited out but yours wasn't,"

"for god's sake oscar, it's aurelia-rose..."

"...have i ever told you that your middle name is absolutely gorgeous?" oscar just randomly blurts out as he mashed up the sweet potatoes as alessandra giggles and furrows her eyebrows in confusion

"excuse me what?" she cackled as she went back to folding up clothes that had just been washed, oscar giggling softly as they kept an eye on the noise in the play room

"your middle name bubs, it's very pretty," oscar spoke as alessandra blushed as she giggled out in embarrassment

"awe, thanks my darling! i love it as well," she giggles softly as she places the folded jacket into the wash hamper

"who gave you your full name?" oscar then asked, his focus more on his wife's name than the sweet potato mash, making alessandra giggle

"dad did actually. he had always loved those three names, alessandra, aurelia and rose. and, of course, cause he's polish and french, he did want a traditional polish name over a french name. but he just realised that those three names all had a good flow together when he put it together with the polish last name. and, when he'd say it out loud to people to see if he and mum should really have that as my name, they all agreed saying it was just nice and satisfying to say. so, a little less than a week later, they decided to name me, alessandra aurelia-rose kaminski, with aurelia and rose being hyphenated," she smiled, shrugging her shoulders as oscar bit his lip - yeah, he still loved the hell out of his wife

"that's adorable. i love that your dad chose it, i'm guessing that gave daddy the upper hand in the department of the favourite parent?" oscar giggled as alessandra nodded her head as she huffed some hair out of her face that was starting to become red

"oh, for sure. daddy's girl from the start!" alessandra giggled which made oscar chuckle as well as he then continued on the sweet potato mash for his family's dinner

wedding day, daddy/daughter dance, 2023

it was time for the daddy/daughter's first dance at oscar and alessandra's aussie wedding and, let's just say, she was so very excited and, it was mainly due to the song choice. she had elvis can't help falling in love as a surprise for her dad as that song was the song he would sing her to sleep with every single night.

the song started and straight away, antoni kaminski, alessandra kaminski's father couldn't hide the tears that had built up in his eyes as his little girl wiped them away. instead of her father singing the lyrics to his little girl, alessandra surprised her father and sang the words to him.

"wise men say, only fools rush in but i can't help falling in love with you..." alessandra sang softly as the father and daughter duo glided softly on the dance floor, oscar watched on as he danced with his mother with a tearful smile on his face

"...like a river flows, surely to the sea darling, so it goes, some things you know, are just meant to be..." the duo sang together as they hugged and swayed side to side in tune with the music

"...take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can't help falling in love with you, for i can't help falling in with you, yeah..."

humming the melody of elvis' can't help falling in love, alessandra continued to fold clothes as oscar heard his wife, "...you alright babe?" oscar whispered, hugging her from behind as the chaos of their two kids started to filter away into white noise as alessandra smiled at her husband

"mhm," alessandra mumbled back, turning her head to smile at her husband as she then took notice of her and oscar's eldest daughter, aurelia

"aurelia! could you get your brother ready please, daddy's just about done with dinner!" alessandra called out, a happy squeal leaving aurelia's mouth as she neatly put her toys away before gathering up her brother's toys as well

"coming mamma!" aurelia calls back, herding her younger brother upstairs to wash their hands for dinner, giving the husband and wife a few more minutes together alone

"mmm, you think aurelia and jack will react well to getting another brother or sister?" alessandra announced casually as oscar's eyes widened

"what? seriously? you're pregnant again babe?" oscar gaped in shock as alessandra giggled, nodding her head

"yep, i'm five months, just short!" alessandra squealed as oscar picked up his wife in pure excitement

"WE'RE HAVING ANOTHER BABY, ALESSANDRA!" oscar screeched from just about the tops of his lungs as the husband and wife chuckled, hearing the increased pitter patter of feet meaning that most likely, aurelia and jack had heard their daddy scream

fin

okay, whilst i'm proud of myself for finally writing for oscar "pastry" piastri, i have got to say that i love this one-shot too much to not attempt to do a part two that includes the third baby and maybe the rest of the f1 grid as well as like uncles.

#formula one #fluff #oscar piastri x fem!reader #happiest memories

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ideavian · 9 months ago

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Your art and the style you have can only be compared to a resplendent dream. I'd love to know about your history in art, ie, your inspirations, how long you've been creating, and the story behind your fascination with distinctively ornate birds. My guess for the birds is Articuno, but what do I know?

Thank you so much!! That’s so nice of you to say akskkssk the birds are not really based on articuno sadly but articuno is one fine bird. Would love to catch it in Pokémon go one day 😔

I’ve been drawing birds for some … 8 years now? It started out less as birds than as colours in shapes tbh, like this one from probably 2016:

^Brought to you by sketch express and its 3 whole layers on my iPad 2. I think the first such bird drawing I ever did was based on a particularly nice sunset I saw :) I drew a whole series of these elements-based birds but I can’t find them anymore…

After playing around with that for a few months I started taking requests for birds based on anime characters like this one (mid 2017)

^rip Lelouch Codegeass you were a real one. I mostly drew characters from bungou stray dogs and That One Obscure Chinese Anime which. Really didn’t work that well in hindsight considering that the designs were more casual than what this style was suited for. But that’s where I started basing birds on people :3

And then in 2018 I got into a little dress up game called Love Nikki and started using the costumes as inspiration and also ran an art request blog, so I was drawing stuff like this for maybe four years? Also I got involved with an art club associated with the game so I was drawing a lot. Most of my stuff from around this time is on this blog!

(August 2018, June 2019, September 2020, August 2021. These are very representative of my personal growth because if you look at my signature you can tell I changed from a cat person to a crow person)

In the summer of 2022 I started doing commissions and got to see a lot of of people’s OCs! It was a lot of fun honestly and I think some of my best work was from then tbh. I think seeing other people’s character designs in different styles really helped me with learning to work with different elements and compositions and such :3

(August 2022, June 2023. Finally got a proper watermark because if I didn’t use them I’d get cancelled so hard on Chinese social media)

And also I discovered genshin character designs around that time and really vibed with the amount of detail on them :D I know people complain about how complicated they are a lot but my style only really works with complicated designs alsjsk

(April 2023, January 2024. Found out about lighting this year and it’s so exciting)

And that’s my bird drawing journey so far! I’m busy with school right now but I’m definitely looking forward to drawing more consistently after I’m done :D I love birds and fancy clothes and birds in fancy clothes

#thanks for the ask!#also sorry for taking 25 years to reply aksjsj no thoughts head empty

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twokinds-es · 2 months ago

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Fancy Dress (2017)

Natani convence a Keith de usar ropa de los géneros opuestos para ir a una fiesta, y Keith termina con un vestido y Natani con un traje, y que puedo decir estoy de acuerdo con Natani, Keith se ve hermosa XD, boceto sugerido por Lemme Get uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Publicar original "Patreon"

(Salu2 de Spark)

#Keith #Natani #sunday sketches #Twokinds #2kinds #Español

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squaric-acid · 3 months ago

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Rewatching PotO (2004) in 2024

~ A needless commentary. Please note that I first watched this movie seven years ago, in 2017. ~

I like the Wizard of Oz thing they do by having the prologue scene in black and white.

Is the Madam Giry in the prologue supposed to be Meg or her mother, it is unclear.

The costumes are decidedly not bad for a piece of historical fiction made in the early 2000’s.

I adore the chaos and attention to detail of the establishing shots of the Opera Populaire during a rehearsal.

All the costumes in this movie are good except for Christine’s during Point of No Return, like what the fuck was that.

I like that Raoul is introduced in person during the rehearsal scene and that Christine gives us some background on their relationship. Her saying they were childhood sweethearts makes the set up of their love story stronger, like they both obviously still harbored feelings for each other during the interim of their childhood and the events of PotO. In the stage production this is less obvious.

Was it really necessary to have the new managers make lecherous comments about Meg and Christine?

Emmy Rossum is very stiff during Think of Me, in contrast to the scene of her dancing just prior where she is very expressive. I’m not sure what to make of this, it’s only an observation. I want her earrings from this scene though.

The Phantom’s lack of a hat makes his head look small and Gerard Butler does not have a small head.

You can tell that the theatre they are in isn’t actually very big.

The dubbing does not sync well to the mouths of the actors.

Meg Giry is adorable.

Christine’s dress during Think of Me looks suspiciously like a wedding dress.

How can you not ship Christine and Raoul in this movie? They’re so cute together.

Not the slow-mo of the candles blowing out.

The arms holding the candelabra are weird, like icky weird, and remind me of the Haunted Mansion.

I do have to admit that Gerard Butler in that cape is really something, he does look good as the Phantom, even without the hat during Phantom of the Opera. I appreciate the electric guitar during that scene too.

It’s not subtle that they used the same archway more than once. And what happens to the horse, where did he go?

Erik’s lair really gives Pirates of the Caribbean ride vibes.

Was the dramatic cape removal necessary?

Why does he just leave her sitting in the boat?

RAMIN KARIMLOO WAS GUSTAVE DAAÉ?!?!!!! And I was supposed to find about this on my own?!?!

Gerard Butler as the Phantom is peak early 2000’s pathetic sad boy.

The dubbing continues to be bad which really impedes the impact of Music of the Night. The blocking isn’t bad though so I’ll focus on that.

Bro, not the mannequin! And the way he sets her in the swan? Hilariously creepy.

The scene of Meg discovering the passage behind the mirror is so interesting to me. What a great piece of character exploration! I wonder how much this version of Meg knows about the Phantom and inner workings of the opera house, surely she isn’t blind to her mother’s association with the Opera Ghost.

Madam Giry demonstrating the use of lasso was a girl boss moment.

How on earth did he not feel Christine prying at the mask?

I wish they would’ve used more drastic makeup and prosthesis for the Phantom’s deformity. Or at least let the camera focus on it for a tiny bit longer. We get basically nothing of it in this scene.

I forgot that they cut back to the black and white of the prologue (a continuation of it).

Just how much is 20,000 francs in 1870 worth today?

Those skull wax seals are cool.

Was the mooning of Carlotta necessary? Funny though

Minnie Driver is hilarious. The Prima Donna scene is fantastic.

Erik doing dastardly deeds in his fancy clothes is iconique.

Where is the musical cue for “Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?”?! It sounds like an announcement at a train station!

Where on earth was Buquet to have seen the Phantom standing near the chandelier?

Only in the movies does cutting back and forth between the ballet from act three and the Phantom chasing Buquet around the flies really work. It makes the scene much more tense but is also amusing because we seen the Phantom doing stunts in his fancy clothes.

They really wanted to make this into a movie musical but did a poor job of integrating the music into the action of the movie.

I love the set design in this movie if nothing else.

If anything Gerard Butler’s Phantom has the least awful face of any rendition of the Phantom.

I can’t imagine this movie being made today, it would be an auto tune nightmare.

What is it about well-dressed pathetic sad boys of the early 2000’s variety?

You can’t fault Gerard Butler’s acting when he cries into the rose.

I take it back, why was the dramatic run so popular? It looks ridiculous.

I love Christine’s dress for the Masquerade scene. And Raoul looks dashing too.

The silver and gold fan choreography is neat. I also especially appreciate that only Christine and the Phantom are wearing shades of red.

Where are the fics of the Phantom and Madam Giry as children? That’s the story I want to hear.

Raoul sleeping, obviously on guard, outside the ballet dormitories is so endearing.

Showing that the Phantom knocks out the guard and is the one to take Christine to the graveyard closes the plot hole about how he knew she would go there. And it demonstrated just how obsessive he is about her.

I don’t know a lot about how funerary monuments worked in the 1800’s but how could the Daaé’s afford such a mausoleum?

The reprise of Angel of Music was very good. Excellent use of lighting.

The Phantom jumping down from the roof of the mausoleum is rather ruined by the fact his cape flipped over his head and he had to put it right.

The fight scene wasn’t the most coherent but it wasn’t outrageous either. I like the skull shaped guard on the Phantom’s sword.

Erik saying “let it be war upon you both” is undercut by the fact he didn’t say that it would be war between him and the managers earlier.

They cut back to Raoul coming up with his plan to ensnare the Phantom after the scene in the cemetery. I think it’s narratively out of place given the events of the scene of the graveyard. Christine’s lament, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, which both about her missing her father and about gathering the courage to bid goodbye to her angel of music. Which Christine felt she had to do because of the plan Raoul came up with.

Christine’s protestations about Raoul’s plan being spoken rather than sung works well in my opinion. But there’s a certain angst to how hysterical Christine sounds in the stage production.

Seriously, the Don Juan costume for Christine sucks.

The reveal in the stage production was better. They mention the hood of cloak in the song, the hood hides the fact that it’s so obviously not Piangi, anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see it wasn’t the same guy.

The background dancers, lol.

All the shots cutting to Madam Giry lowkey make it seem like she was secretly in love with the Phantom.

They could’ve made Point of No Return more tense.

Why does the Phantom’s wig look so bad before Christine pulls off his mask?

Now his disfigurement actually looks appropriate.

Madam Giry literally brought him to the opera house and he went willingly, the Phantom calling it a prison isn’t super accurate.

Erik has too much hair in this version. But props to Gerard Butler for killing it in the final scene in the Phantom’s Lair.

I like the detail that the cut on Raoul’s arm starts bleeding again due to all the action. It looks weirdly real though so maybe it was unintentional. I have not seen any behind the scenes footage to confirm this.

Why is Meg at the forefront of the mob? Why was she so interested in the mask? Is it supposed to be a hint about Love Never Dies? There is too much focus on Meg and Madam Giry’s involvement with the Phantom to just be as it is explained.

I adore the implication of the rose at Christine’s grave. Perhaps the most emotionally impactful moment in the whole movie.

7/10

Love the costumes and the aesthetics. The final scene at Christine’s grave was a very nice extra bit. Not as good as the stage production but enjoyable. The acting seemed a bit stiff and underwhelming but lots of movies from the early 2000’s were. I prefer the 25th anniversary performance but who doesn’t?

I can’t speak to how it compares to the book because I haven’t read it (I will sometime)

#the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #poto musical #christine daae #madame giry #meg giry #erik the phantom #andrew lloyd webber #musicals #erik poto #christine poto #I’m not new to the phandom but it’s been a while since I’ve interacted

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 10 months ago

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All Along the Watchtower (chapter 8)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 2.8 K

Warnings: Minors DNI - no major warnings except for some references to sexual activities in the past and major fuck me eyes, also a few angsty lore drops for Rory (family death, divorce)

*Just a short chapter to stoke the ship flames

Summary: Rory prepares to go undercover, getting ready to enter the club and catch Zorokov. It's the obligatory "guy sees the girl he likes in a fancy dress and falls in love" scene

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

October 20, 2017 18:40 - Safehouse

“You are going to play nice, yeah? This won’t turn into some pissing contest?”

Price stood off in the corner of the room, smoke trailing from the end of his burning cigar as his arms stayed folded over his chest, his hardened stare burning a hole through the hotel room door as smoke wafted in front of his face. Rory couldn’t help but scoff at his reaction as she moved to unlock it, sliding the chain across as three steady knocks beat against the door. She shot him a look over her shoulder, her brows lifting, expecting an answer. He grumbled, his lip curling after exhaling. “I told you, you can trust him.”

“That remains to be seen,” he rasped.

“Fucking hell,” muttering under her breath, she swung the door open after checking the peephole.

On the other side, standing in the hall, Andrew offered her a charming smile, bright blue eyes gleaming. She smirked at the neatly coiffed hair and the business casual clothes he had decided on.

“Well, look at you James Bond.”

“Yeah, you think?” Clearly teasing her, he continued to smirk as she moved aside and he crossed the threshold into the hotel room, his eyes traveling over each crevice of the sparse room, carrying a vellum bag draped over his arm and several shopping bags. A shit-eating grin spread further across his lips as he held it out towards Rory, unable to hold in the chuckle. “Flew all the way from London for this, got it straight from Harrods.”

Rory looked down at the bag in his arms and furrowed her brow, her eyes going wide. “ Harrods ? Christ, Andy, MI6 give you a gold card or something?”

“Only the best for you, Sinclair.” He was laying it on thick with the wink, a glint in his eyes as he spied Price glaring at him from over her shoulder.

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “Bloody prat,” muttering under her breath while taking the bag with her towards the bathroom to change, she stopped and used her free arm to direct the MI6 officer’s attention towards the grizzly bear of a man in the corner who continued to puff on his cigar. “Officer Andrew Owen, allow me to introduce you to Captain John Price.”

Giving a quick tip of his head and a flick of a grin to the Captain, Andrew held his hands to his hips. Price returned the same motion, flexing his shoulders to broaden them further as he bounced on his heels, thrusting his pelvis. The clear showing of two men locked in a natural battle for dominance, neither backing down.

She could only sigh as she walked past Price, his gaze tracking her with a lowered head and a lifted brow. Her sideways glance met him as he took a deep breath and shifted his weight. It didn’t take a genius to tell he wasn’t looking forward to having to socialize with the stranger, acting like she was his only lifeline, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip to keep herself from grinning. “ Be nice ,” she mouthed to him. A soft batting of her lashes was all that it took to get him to sigh again and nod his head in the direction of the bathroom with a quick scrunch of his nose.

With Rory out of the room, it was now just the two men left to square off. If there was room for it they would have been circling each other like stags about to clash antlers.

“So, SAS, huh?” Andrew did his best to break the awkward tension first.

Responding to the man’s question with a grunt, Price’s brow knit together. “How d’you know Rory?”

The officer’s brows lifted slightly at the first name drop. “We served together. I was her Lieutenant in Iraq.”

“Right.” The steely gaze of the soldier dug into the other man, sizing him up.

Under the direct scrutinization of the captain, the smirk grew a little more on Andy’s face. “She’s a good soldier, Price. Keep an eye out for her, eh? Would hate to lose an asset like her.”

Price bristled, straightening up to stand a little taller as his eyes narrowed behind the amber glow of his cigar, blowing smoke out his nostrils as they flared.

Eventually, after several awkward moments of staring one another down, the door to the bathroom finally opened and she stepped out dressed in a silky, deep plum colored short cocktail dress. The delicate material gently draped over her, clinging to her graceful curves. Instantly hit with the sensation of burning ears, she knew there were two sets of eyes currently set on her, but only one of them had any real intent – that cold, hardened glare hidden behind the curtain of smoke.

Rory didn’t often get the chance to dress up, her only excuse was usually at a Christmas party or New Year’s Eve bash, so to be there wearing something so sophisticated all in an attempt to take down the enemy was a breath of fresh air – or at the very least a nice escape from tactical gear, granny panties, and wet wipes in the field. Fixing the strap that had slipped down her shoulder, her fingertips grazed against the soft skin and her gaze roamed over to Price seemingly against her will, noticing his brow shoot up as he let out a sharp inhale, clearing his throat once he made eye contact. Caught in the act of having his eyes roam over her once more, over every bit of exposed toned muscle in her arms, legs and back, a cocky grin spread across his lips and her cheeks grew warm, a rosy blush climbing up them as her eyes fell and she was inclined to smile as well.

Fluffing up her hair, standing barefoot, her toes curling into the rough fibers of the carpet, she looked over at Andrew who much more innocently took stock of her. “Who’d ever think you’re a soldier,” he teased as his head tilted to the side, inspecting her. “Well, the bruises might be a bit of a giveaway, but we’ll get those covered soon enough.” The MI6 officer passed her a small paper bag next. “I had one of the cosmetics counter girls figure it out for me.”

“I bet you did. Did you also get her number for later?”

“What kind of man do you take me for?” He feigned innocence for his audience as he pressed his hand to his chest.

“One I know all too well.”

Noticing her friend’s eyes look up and then dart away again as a quiet growl emanated from the corner of the room, Rory glanced over at the looming presence beside her who had finished the stub of his cigar and had returned to staring with a darkened look at her, his focus put entirely on her shoulder still covered in bruises that had begun to turn green with time.

“You’re sure you want to go in there, Sinclair?”

Looking into Price’s eyes was like staring at an unreadable wall again, only the little tics of his features giving her any sort of glimpse into what he was really thinking at any one time. Those weren’t the same youthful hungry eyes that had taken her in while he had her pressed up against a wall, his hands gripping at her thighs while her dress was rolled up around her hips, they were like stone even as they drank her in. She had to shake the image of the Lieutenant he had been from her head as her throat ran dry, the twinkle that had been in his eye that night since becoming a rare sight, but when it was there it made her heart race in a flurry of rapid beats.

“We can figure something else out, you can back out now before having to slap the makeup on.”

He knew she could fight – he had seen it – and still he was trying to offer her the easy way out. Whether it was sentimentality, a newfound sense of protectiveness for her, or a natural sort of chivalry, he didn’t seem to want to put her in harm’s way, rather he wanted to keep her out of it despite her ten years of military service already under her belt.

“I can do this.”

She would swear it up and down if she had to. This was her opportunity, her chance to really prove herself, even if it was mildly degrading. As she had said before, she knew her skills, her assets, and just as it had always been, her femininity was part of that. She was willing to use that to prove a point.

Staring up at him, her face serious but without the hard bite it had when she was in a fight, he looked right back at her with his jaw clenched under the scruff, the muscle there twitching, a forced smirk hiding something else.

Was he really worried about her?

Price nodded, biting his lip, no longer putting up a fight. He had to put his trust in her eventually. Now, apparently , was as good a time as any. Giving him a reassuring little tight-lipped smile, she squeezed the bag in her grip as if it were her weapon. “Right, well, guess I better get all dolled up, eh?”

After he flinched out another smirk in her direction, she returned to the confines of the bathroom to complete her transformation.

----

It was hardly the best lighting, but she made do, being careful with every sweep and stroke of her brushes along the contours and curves of her face. Lines kept straight; layers blended. She was never one to go overboard on her makeup anyway, it was there to enhance, not cover or obscure. Closing the lid to her tube of lipstick, she blotted the full pout of her mouth and looked up into the mirror, and for a moment it was like seeing that twenty-three-year-old girl who was a little too quick to act staring back at her – the only thing missing was the ponytail, but she’d long since sworn off growing her hair out long. Her last step was the spritz of perfume. Something for Zorokov to remember her by as he was being hauled away for questioning. A warm scent of vanilla and amber that would linger on her skin…perhaps she’d even wear it again while interrogating the wanker later, just for good measure.

It felt odd looking back at that face across from her, it was the look of the girl she used to be. The one who had yet to have her eyes opened to the world and how it really turned. The girl who thought the worst thing in the world that could have happened to her was losing her mother to cancer or watching her parents' divorce as a child, her father returning to England while she stayed behind in Canada to be raised by her mother. But in the grand scheme that was just a drop in the bucket, a pain that countless others had faced as well. She had yet to learn just how bad things could really get, how the nightmares could last and the tremors could lock her joints, the flashbacks giving her cold sweats. She was innocent, wide-eyed and pure, and she had offered all that on a silver platter for the ones in power to take from her. But she didn’t regret it, not by a long shot. Every scar, every bruise – every fight – it had built her into the woman that stood at the sink not trapped in a memory, the one who could still smile even as hell broke loose.

Taking another deep breath, she slipped into her stiletto heels, holding her shoulders back with pride and strutted out into the room. Price could do nothing but stare, his mouth left agape. If she saw that young woman she once was in the mirror, he had to have seen it as well, and every waning memory they had of that night together came crashing back. Every steamy kiss, every lingering desire-filled gaze, every near bruising touch of his hands on her hot flesh all hung heavy in the air between them. Professionalism had gone right out the window in the moment, and neither of them seemed to care. He swallowed heavily, licking his lips as his eyes trailed over her, making absolutely no attempt to hide it whatsoever and she didn’t want him to.

Andrew circled around behind her, his hand brushing against her shoulder as he gave it a brief squeeze and smiled at her. “A goddamn heartbreaker right there.” Standing behind her, he unzipped the back of the dress just enough to tape on the mic pack and the wire. The only place Rory had left to look was at Price, who stared right back at her with his brow furrowed, jaw clenching tighter and tighter, the tendons close to snapping. His gaze intensified as he watched the MI6 officer nimbly attach the wire to her with tape, getting to touch the soft hidden recesses of her flesh that he hadn’t been able to in years.

Jealousy? Is that what this was?

A strap fell loosely down her shoulder and Andrew caught it, pulling it back up her arm, his fingers brushing against her, and Price reared up like a guard dog, the little nerves in his face twitching, his lip curling the way it did just before he attacked an enemy.

“Sorry,” Andrew murmured.

Rory looked down at her shoulder as he replaced the strap, giving a small friendly smile. “Quite alright.”

The buzz of the zipper pulled up her back brought Price’s eyes back to hers, and she swore she could hear the creak of his jaw above it as his molars crushed together. His paws gripped at his thighs as though he was mauling himself to keep control. Days they had been trapped in this room together, forced to pretend like they weren’t constantly watching the other, that they could just focus on the work together, that the persistent feelings that were surely just lust could be ignored. They were trained to push aside those things, trained not to fall prey to emotions and their senses, using their minds over their bodies, but it seemed as though even that held little sway over what was happening between them…what had already happened. SAS survival training had had them both have to strip down in a room full of people and sit in the freezing cold, and yet this – being so close and not being able to act on it – was a far worse form of torture. There was almost a desperation in the way he looked at her, like some part of him wanted to be put out of his misery, and yet, with the way he scowled she knew he was biting it down. He was a captain, her CO for this mission, a superior officer…it could never happen. It was forbidden.

The perfervid yearning that clung in the space between them as much as the smell of smoke did within the room was cut through the moment Andrew spoke, breaking the spell that kept the two of them entwined. “Oh, and one more thing.” He slipped out a pair of brass knuckles from his jacket pocket. “Can’t have you going in there without a way of defending yourself.”

Her eyes dragged away from Price and a quiet chuckle bubbled up from inside her as she took the melee weapon in her hand. “You shouldn’t have, Andy. You really do think of everything.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “Give ‘im hell, Lamb.”

She grabbed the clutch purse from the same bag her shoes had been in, filling it with the fake ID, rubles, and the knuckles Andrew had provided her.

Price seemed to have broken free of his own fixation that held him and he hoarsely provided the lay of the land for the start of the mission. “We’ll drive you down a few blocks from the club and park there, so we aren’t spotted. You’ll make the rest of the way on foot. We’ll have you on comms the whole time, hearing every word that’s said.”

Rory nodded and gave him a cheeky grin. “So I won’t have to shout if I get in trouble then?”

“No, I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” Price rumbled with a quiet chuckle.

His trademark smirk returned along with the twinkle in his eyes, and she was enraptured for just a moment before taking a calming breath and grabbing the rather elegant and sleek long coat Andrew hadn’t failed to add to the ensemble. “Right, shall we be on our way then? I’d hate to keep our man waiting.”

“Ready when you are, Sergeant.”

#call of duty #fan fiction #john price #captain price #john price x oc #oc: rory sinclair #fic: all along the watchtower #chapter 8

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