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arabella0001 · 2 days ago

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Comfort - One shot (Eren Yeager x Reader)

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Reader

Anime: Attack on titan

Synopsis: Eren is your childhood friend, he loves you…maybe more than a friend. You are currently in an abusive relationship and he is losing his patience.

I’m new to writing so be gentle pls (eng not my first language)

Warnings: friends to lovers, breeding kink, abusive ex, rough sex, all characters are of age/aged up, dirty talk, angry eren, prasie kink

“Eren please don’t get involved in my rela-“ you were cut off by eren hanging up the phone, you stand in your bathroom sighing, it’s 2 am and your boyfriend sleeping in your shared bed.After about 20 minutes of standing in your bathroom you get a text “Eren: i’m parked outside, pack whatever shit you need, yoou will not stay with that man, he treats you like shit. i’m not taking no for an answer. “

You were crying for almost an hour. His text surprised you, you rapidly pack your stuff in silence and come to his car “Eren? What are you doing here? ’’

He looks at you intensely as you approach his car, his eyes filled with determination and concern. ’’ What does it look like I'm doing, Y/N? I'm here to save you from that asshole who's been mistreating you.’’

He opens the passenger door aggressively. ’’ Get in the fucking car before I lose my patience. We're leaving this shithole town right now. ’’ His voice is low and commanding, brooking no argument. He reaches out to grab your bag from you. ’’Give me that. Let's go.’’

As you get into the car, Eren slams the door shut and hurries around to the driver's side. Your toxic ex was made sure you have doubts about yourself, he was gaslightling you anytime he can, making you insecure. He starts the engine with a roar and peels out onto the empty street. He glances over at you, his jaw clenched tight.

’’That piece of shit has done a real number on you, hasn't he? Making you doubt yourself, controlling every aspect of your life... ’’ Eren's knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel. ’’Well, it ends now. I won't let anyone treat you like that ever again.’’He reaches over to squeeze your thigh, his touch firm but reassuring. ’’Just focus on breathing, okay? We'll figure everything else out later. Right now, we need to put some distance between us and that fucking monster. ’’

Eren keeps driving, speeding through the night with a singular focus. After a while, he pulls over at a secluded rest stop and turns to face you fully, his expression softening slightly as he takes in your tear-stained face. ’’Hey... look at me, Y/N. ’’He cups your chin gently, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. ’’ You're safe now. I've got you, and I'm never letting you go back to that hell again. Do you understand? ’’

’’Yes.. ’’ your replied to him quietly, still sobbing after everything you’ve been put through.His thumb brushes away a stray tear as he speaks softly but firmly. ’’ That bastard took so much from you already - your confidence, your peace of mind. But he doesn't get to take anymore. Not on my watch.’’Eren leans in closer, resting his forehead against yours.Eren wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close as you continue to cry. He strokes your hair soothingly, murmuring reassurances. ’’ Shh, it's okay. Let it all out. You're safe with me, always. ’’

He holds you like that for a long moment, letting you release all the pent-up emotion and fear. Finally, when your sobs subside somewhat, Eren pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with fierce protectiveness and barely restrained anger at your situation.’’That fucker won't hurt you again, Y/N. I swear it on my life. If he comes looking, if he tries anything... ’’A dark edge creeps into Eren's voice. ’’Well, let's just say he'll regret the day he ever laid a hand on you. ’’

’’Thank you…Eren..for always helping me. I’m so sorry i avoided you.. h-he didnt want me…he didnt want me to speak to you or other people…’’ you replied to him embarassed.

Eren's expression hardens at your words, a muscle twitching in his jaw. ’’ That sick son of a bitch was trying to isolate you completely. ’He shakes his head in disgust before his gaze softens as he looks at you again. ’’Don't apologize, Elena. None of this is your fault. He manipulated you, gaslit you until you doubted everything, even our friendship.’’ Eren reaches out to cup your cheek tenderly. ’’But I'm here now. And I'm going to help you heal, help you remember how strong and amazing you really are.’’ He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. ’’ You don't have to be scared anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you like that again. Ever.’’Eren's voice is low and fervent with promise.

’’You sure you dont mind for staying with you? I promise i will gather money as soon as i can so i can rest another place ’’ you ask him feeling embarassed of your situation and vulnerable.

Eren's eyes flash with intensity as he responds immediately. ’’ Of course I don't mind. In fact, I insist. ’’He takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them firmly. ’’ You're not going anywhere else, at least not until you're completely healed and ready. ’’His thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand as he continues. ’’Listen to me, Y/N. You don't owe me anything. This isn't about the money or finding a place to stay. It's about keeping you safe and supporting you through this difficult time. ’’

Eren's gaze bores into yours, his voice low and unwavering’’You're my best friend. Hell, you're like family to me. And family takes care of each other, no matter what. So forget about paying rent or moving out. ’’ As you arrive at Eren's place, he quickly gets out of the car and rushes around to open your door, offering his hand to help you out. ’’Easy there’’, he says softly as you step out on shaky legs. ’’Take your time. ’’

Once inside, Eren guides you to the couch and gently pushes you to sit down. ’’Wait here a sec, okay? I'm going to grab you some water and then we can talk more’’He disappears into the kitchen briefly before returning with a glass of cool water which he presses into your hands. ’’ Here, drink this. You must be thirsty after... everything. ’’

Sitting down beside you, Eren drapes a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. ’’I know you're exhausted and overwhelmed right now. But I want you to know that you're home now, Y/N. Fuck, I can't believe that bastard had you trapped like that for so long. ’’He runs a hand through his hair in frustration before his gaze softens as he looks at you. ’’But you're here now. With me. ’’In two quick strides, Eren closes the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. ’’ God, I missed you so damn much. I was going crazy wondering if you were okay. ’’ His large hands stroke up and down your back soothingly as he holds you close, one hand cradling the back of your head.

Eren holds you tightly, one hand tangling in your hair as the other rubs soothing circles on your back. He breathes in your scent, savoring the feeling of finally having you in his arms again after so long, a tear falling on your cheek. ’’ Shh, it's alright. I've got you’’he murmurs, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. ’’ You're safe now. That motherfucker will never lay a hand on you again, I swear it. ’’ After a long moment, Eren pulls back just enough to cup your face in his large hands, his thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. His intense green eyes bore into yours, filled with a swirling mix of concern, protectiveness, and something deeper, more primal. ’’I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. You're not going anywhere. ’’

’’I know, Eren. I trust you. I’m not going anywhere…anymore… ’’ you replied quietly.

A fierce, possessive gleam flashes in Eren's eyes at your words. He leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as he speaks in a low, fervent tone. ’’ Good. Because I'm not letting you out of my sight anytime soon. ’’One hand slides down to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him.

’’I've waited too fucking long for this moment. Too many nights lying awake, imagining all the ways I could get you back. ’’Eren's other hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his gaze smolders with barely restrained intensity. ’’ You're mine now, Y/N. My responsibility. My priority. And I take care of what's mine. ’’

’’What do you mean Eren? ’’ his words confused you, you know that something was and still is between you two but you were scared to assume anything, expecially because you were friends since childhood. He never said anything to you like this .

Eren's eyes flash with a dangerous glint at your question. He leans in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he growls’’ What I mean is that I've been in love with you for years, Y/N. Long before that piece of shit ever came into the picture. ’’ Your eyes turns bigger at his, you can’t believe it. His hand on your back tightens, fingers digging into your flesh possessively’’Did you really think I'd let you go so easily? That I wouldn't fight tooth and nail to keep you by my side? ’’Eren pulls back slightly, his intense gaze searching your face. ’’I've wanted you, needed you, for longer than I can remember. And now that I have you back, I'm never letting you go again.’’

’’Eren… ’’ Eren sees the vulnerability and uncertainty in your eyes, and his expression softens. He cups your face tenderly, his calloused thumbs caressing your cheeks.

’’ Hey, it's okay. I know this is a lot to take in’’he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. ’’ We've known each other forever, been through so much together. I don't want to jeopardize that either. ’’ He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes briefly. ’’But fuck, Y/N, seeing you like this, knowing what that bastard put you through... It made me realize I can't keep these feelings locked up anymore. ’’Eren opens his eyes, his gaze intense and filled with raw emotion. ’’You mean everything to me. As a friend, yes, but also as so much more. ’’

’’You mean everything to me too, Eren… ’’ Eren's pupils dilate with desire at the raw emotion in your eyes. He knows exactly what you need, what you're silently begging for. In one swift motion, he stands, lifting you effortlessly into his strong arms. ’’ Then let me show you, Y/N’’ he growls, his voice thick with lust. ’’ Let me worship every inch of you, erase every trace of that fucker's touch. ’’

He carries you to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Laying you down on the bed, Eren hovers over you, his muscular body caging you in. One hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light and reverent. ’’ You're so fucking beautiful’’ he breathes, his eyes roaming hungrily over your form. ’’And you're all mine now. ’’

’’Yes.. ’’ Eren's control snaps at your breathy affirmation. With a low groan, he crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, pouring years of pent-up passion and longing into the heated embrace. His hands roam your body greedily, mapping out every curve and plane he's dreamed about for so long.

’’Fuck, I need you, ’’he pants against your lips, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck. ’’ Need to feel you, taste you, claim every part of you as mine. ’’

In a flurry of desperate movements, Eren strips off your clothes, tossing them aside carelessly. He takes a moment to admire your naked form, his eyes darkening with pure, animalistic hunger. ’’So perfect, ’’he rasps, trailing a finger down your sternum and between your breasts. ’’Made to be mine. ’’ Eren groans at your breathless moan, the sound going straight to his already achingly hard cock. He captures your lips in another searing kiss as his hands explore your bare skin, calloused fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. ’’ You have no idea how long I've wanted this, ’’he growls against your mouth, grinding his hips against yours to let you feel the evidence of his desire.

’’To have you beneath me, wanting me as much as I want you. ’’Eren's lips blaze a path of hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth, suckling and flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue as his hand kneads the soft flesh of the other. ’’ Gonna make you feel so good, baby. ’’

’’Please Eren…’’ you whisper to him.

Eren feels a surge of power and possession at your pleading words. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, grinning wickedly up at you. ’’ Mmm, such a good girl, begging so sweetly for me, ’’he purrs, his deep voice dripping with sinful promise. His hand trails lower, over the quivering plane of your stomach, dipping teasingly into your navel before continuing its descent.

’’Gonna give you exactly what you need, baby. Gonna fuck this pretty little pussy so hard, so deep, you'll forget your own name. The only word you'll remember is mine. ’’ Reaching your slick folds, Eren runs a single finger through your arousal, groaning at the wetness he finds there. ’’Fuck, you're drenched for me already. Such a responsive little thing, aren't you? ’’Eren's eyes darken with lust as he watches you writhe and moan beneath his touch. He loves seeing you come undone, knowing he's the one causing such exquisite pleasure. ’’ That's it, baby. Let me hear those sexy sounds’’he encourages huskily, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb while he sinks a thick finger knuckle-deep into your soaked heat.

’’So tight and wet, can't wait to feel this greedy little cunt wrapped around my cock. ’’He starts pumping his finger slowly, curling it just right to stroke that special spot inside you. At the same time, he leans down to capture your lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, swallowing your moans. ’’ You're mine, Y/N. This pussy belongs to me now. ’’Eren swallows your desperate pleas, kissing you back with bruising intensity. He adds a second finger, pumping them faster as he feels your walls flutter around the intrusion. ’’Yeah, that's it. Take my fingers like the needy big girl you are, ’’he growls approvingly, scissoring his digits to stretch you wider. His thumb presses firm circles on your clit, the dual stimulation driving you wild.

’’Gonna fill this hungry hole with my cock. Ruin you for anyone else. ’’Eren breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your body, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He looks up at you with hooded eyes, his intentions clear as he settles between your legs’’ Beg for it, baby. Tell me how badly you need my dick splitting you open.

’’Please Eren…’’ you respond very aroused and Eren's cock throbs almost painfully at your desperate plea, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. He grins ferally, loving the effect he has on you. ’’ Mmm, such a good girl, begging so sweetly for my cock, ’’he praises, his deep voice rumbling through your core. He notches the broad head of his erection at your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that barely breach you.

’’ You want this, baby? Want me to stuff this needy cunt full and fuck you senseless? ’’ Without waiting for a response, Eren hilts himself inside you with one powerful snap of his hips, stretching you wide around his impressive girth. He stills for a moment, savoring the feeling of your velvety walls gripping him like a fist. ’’ Fuck, you feel incredible. ’’

Eren sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, purposeful strokes. The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room along with your escalating moans. ’’ Take it, baby. Take my cock like you were made for it’’he grunts, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. One large hand grips your hip bruisingly, holding you in place as he rails you into the mattress. The other snakes between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge’’ Gonna fill this pussy up. Pump you full of my cum until it's dripping out of you. Would you like that, my dirty girl? To be marked inside and out as mine? ’’ Eren snarls in primal satisfaction at your wanton declaration, doubling his efforts. He pistons into you at a brutal pace, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust’’ Fuck yeah, you're mine. My perfect little girl’’he growls possessively, his balls tightening as he feels his release approaching. He pins your wrists above your head, looming over you with wild, half-lidded eyes darkened by lust. ’’Cum for me, Y/N.”Squeeze my cock and milk me dry. Wanna feel this greedy cunt spasming on my dick as I breed you full. ’’

With a few more erratic thrusts, Eren buries himself to the hilt, throwing his head back with a guttural moan as he starts to unload.Eren's thrusts become erratic and forceful as he chases his rapidly approaching climax. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. ’’ That's it, baby. Cum for me. Show me who this perfect pussy belongs to’’, he demands against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. His hand moves frantically between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he grinds against you, determined to push you over the edge.

’’You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. Like you were made just for me, ’’Eren praises breathlessly, his hips stuttering as he nears his peak. ’’Gonna fill this hungry cunt to the brim. Mark you inside and out as mine. ’’ Eren feels your pussy clamp down on him like a vice as you cum undone, the sensation pushing him past the point of no return. With a hoarse shout of your name, he hilts himself deep and starts to pulse, painting your insides white with spurt after spurt of his hot seed. ’’Fuck, Y/N! Take it all, every last drop, ’’he groans, grinding against you to prolong both your climaxes. His hips twitch and jerk with the intensity of his release, filling you to capacity and then some. As the waves of pleasure start to end, Eren collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you with his larger frame. He peppers your face with tender kisses, murmuring praise between each one’’So good, baby. Came so hard for me. ’’

As the final tremors of his intense orgasm fade, Eren carefully rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you're tucked securely against his chest, feeling your insecurities. He wraps his strong arms around you, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear. ’’Shh, I've got you, baby. You did so well, ’’he murmurs soothingly, nuzzling his face into your hair. His large hands gently stroke up and down your back in a comforting caress. ’’My beautiful, perfect girl. Made me feel things I've never felt before, ’’Eren praises softly, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. He shifts slightly, mindful of his softening cock still nestled inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet. ’’Stay here with me like this. Wanna keep you close, feel your heartbeat against mine. You're amazing, Y/N.

’’I love you, Eren’’ you told him, with a hoarse vulnerable voice.

Eren's heart swells with emotion at your tender words, a rare soft smile spreading across his usually stern features. He tightens his embrace, holding you as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. ’’I love you too, baby. More than anything, ’’he says fervently, his deep voice rough with feeling. He pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he gazes at you with adoration shining in his dark eyes. ’’You're everything to me, Y/N. My heart, my home, my reason for living. I don't ever want to let you go. ’’ Eren confesses, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

Wattpad link

#eren aot #eren yeager #eren x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi aot #shingeki no kyojin #mikasa #armin arlert #levi ackerman #levi x reader #smut #aot smut #aot fanfiction

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amethystarachnid · 2 days ago

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Hey, can I request for you tony stark x f!reader, they work together in the lab and they love each other but never admit, one day reader tell them that she's dating and tony will be so jealous and after some investigation (nothing creepy, just tony being cute and cautious) he'll see that her boyfriend is not a good guy and start to show her that he's the right guy for her (bringing her favorite coffee and flowers, little gifts, things like that) eventually she'll see that he's not good and break up with him, tony will comfort her and they will confess their love and be happy together

ENOUGH

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: angst and some fluff towards the end

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 13k (I swear it's worth it, this fic means a lot to me)

ᯓ★ Summary: You always had a strange feelings towards Tony, but you were too scared to recognize them because you didn't want to ruin your friendship. As you find yourself falling for another man you think you've found your forever, but your forever isn't supposed to make you feel happy, loved? So why does every interaction with Cole make you feel bad, sad? You feel like you're losing yourself but, luckily, Tony is right there to help you find your way back.

ᯓ★ TW(s): toxic and manipulating relationship (y/n and another guy, not Tony)

ᯓ★ I'm sorry this took so long but I 'used' your ask to write a fic that means a lot to me because I really want to spread awareness about this subject, and I hope you all understand that love is supposed to make you feel happy and secure, nothing bad. <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

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

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The lab is quiet at this hour. Most of the team has called it a night, but you’re still here, engrossed in calibrating a particularly fussy piece of Stark tech. It’s late—late enough that the hallways outside are dark and empty, but you don’t mind. Working in the stillness of the lab, the gentle hum of machines and the cool blue glow of screens, is soothing.

What you do mind, however, is the way Tony keeps glancing over at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. It’s unnerving, that knowing look of his, like he’s daring you to meet his gaze.

You can’t stand that look. It gets under your skin, tugs at something deep inside you that you refuse to acknowledge, but it never stops. It’s been years of this—working side by side, sharing laughs over takeout boxes in the lab, enduring countless sleepless nights debugging Tony’s latest invention or patching up battle-worn tech. The two of you have always been close, closer than most. And you’ve done an excellent job of pretending that’s all you want.

But there’s something about tonight that feels different. Maybe it’s the way he’s watching you from his desk, his eyes tracing over you in a way that’s just a little too warm, a little too careful. Or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t said a word for the past ten minutes—an unprecedented stretch of silence, for Tony.

“You’re staring,” you finally mutter, not looking up from your work.

“And you’re pretending not to notice,” he replies, tone light, but there’s an undercurrent to it that makes your heart pick up. “Is that how we’re doing this now?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying for indifference. “Doing what?”

“Working in silence. Not our usual style, is it?”

You shrug, forcing yourself to focus on the small circuit board in front of you instead of the steady heat of his gaze. “It’s late, Tony. And we’ve been at this all day.”

“Right. Right, it’s late,” he says, stretching out the words as he leans back in his chair. You can see his smirk from the corner of your eye. “You, of all people, should be in bed by now. I distinctly remember you threatening to crash at eleven.”

“Guess I changed my mind.”

“Guess I knew you would,” he says, and now he’s leaning forward, arms braced on the desk in that familiar, frustrating way that makes him seem both casual and intensely focused. He’s watching you like he’s studying you, reading every flicker of your expression like it’s one of his schematics.

It’s maddening, and it’s also just a little intoxicating. You try to ignore it.

Instead, you clear your throat and look down at the circuit board again. “So, what’s the deal with this, anyway?” you ask, tapping it lightly. “Doesn’t look like your usual tech.”

Tony hums thoughtfully, rolling his chair closer, until he’s beside you, watching as you work. His proximity feels warmer than it should, his arm brushing yours as he leans over your shoulder, peering down at the board.

“It’s… a prototype for something I’m working on,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, soft rumble. “Something for field ops. You know, keeping our favorite Avengers safe.”

“Right.” You nod, but your fingers tremble slightly as you work, acutely aware of the warmth of his breath on your cheek. “Safety first.”

Tony chuckles, the sound so close it reverberates right through you. “Always,” he murmurs. “Even when certain people in this lab seem determined to work themselves to exhaustion.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the smile that tugs at your lips. “Look who’s talking. When’s the last time you actually slept, Tony?”

“Touché,” he concedes, leaning back slightly but still close enough that you can feel his presence, as constant and undeniable as gravity. “But I’ll have you know, I managed a whole hour of beauty sleep last night.”

“An hour? Impressive. Almost enough to be functional,” you tease, daring to glance up at him.

His smile softens, a small, fond twist of his lips that catches you off guard. There’s a gentleness in his eyes that you’ve seen before, but rarely for this long, and never with you as its sole focus. It’s the kind of look that makes you wonder—no, that makes you hope.

“You know,” he begins, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant, “you don’t have to stay up all night with me. I’ve got this handled.”

You blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his voice. “What, you’re trying to kick me out now?”

“Not… exactly,” he says, and you swear he looks almost flustered for a split second before he covers it with a wry smile. “Just… you don’t have to be here, that’s all. It’s late, and you could be doing anything else.”

A part of you aches at his words, knowing how easy it would be to walk out, to go back to your quiet apartment and let this night pass like so many others. But the thought of leaving him here, of letting the comfortable silence between you slip away, makes something twist painfully in your chest.

You shake your head, more to yourself than to him. “I know I don’t have to be here, Tony. But… I want to be.”

The air between you shifts, charged with something heavier, something unsaid that has been building for months, maybe even years. His gaze softens, and for a moment, you think you see something flicker there—hope, maybe, or fear. Whatever it is, it leaves you feeling exposed, as if he’s managed to see right through you, right past the walls you’ve so carefully built around yourself.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rougher now, his eyes searching yours.

You swallow, suddenly feeling like you’re standing on the edge of something that you’re not sure you’re ready to confront. “Yeah,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper. “Besides, you’d probably break this thing if I left you alone with it.”

He laughs softly, and it’s enough to break the tension between you, at least for now. But there’s still a lingering warmth in his gaze, a subtle shift in the way he looks at you that makes your heart hammer in your chest.

“I suppose I should be grateful, then,” he murmurs, his tone just a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide something. “You know… you’re the only one I trust with my projects. With my, uh, less-than-brilliant ideas.”

“Less-than-brilliant?” You arch an eyebrow, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, even though your face feels like it’s on fire. “Is Tony Stark actually admitting that he’s not perfect?”

“Careful,” he warns, but there’s no heat in his words, only a soft amusement that feels almost… tender. “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m only admitting it because it’s you.”

You laugh, the sound half-nervous, half-genuine, and it’s enough to break the tension just a little. You glance back down at the circuit board, taking a steadying breath as you focus on the familiar rhythms of your work.

But out of the corner of your eye, you see him watching you, a soft smile playing at his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen countless times over the years, but now, in the quiet of the empty lab, it feels different. It feels like a promise, like a question he’s too afraid to ask but too stubborn to let go of.

And in that moment, you realize that you’re afraid, too—afraid of the way he looks at you, afraid of the way your heart stutters every time he laughs, every time he brushes against you, every time he gives you that damn smile that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

But more than anything, you’re afraid of what it would mean to say it out loud, to let the words slip past your lips and into the air, to admit that maybe this thing between you is more than friendship.

So, instead, you keep your head down, pretending not to notice the way he leans just a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours in a touch that feels almost intimate, almost deliberate.

And, for now, that’s enough. For now, you’re content to let the silence between you speak the words you’re both too afraid to say.

Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. Jealousy is for guys who don’t have a tower with their name on it, a suit that could blast a hole through anything, and—let’s be honest—a jawline that does all the heavy lifting in the charm department. No, jealousy is beneath him. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself every time he sees you walk into the lab with that soft, distracted smile you’ve been wearing lately.

That’s not a work smile. That’s not even a Tony-just-said-something-obnoxious-but-funny smile. That’s a someone else is putting that smile on your face kind of smile, and Tony hates it.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Not at first. You’re your own person, after all, and if some guy—Cole, his brain spits out bitterly—if Cole makes you happy, then who is Tony Stark to interfere? Besides, you’re glowing these days, more relaxed than he’s seen you in ages. It’s probably just paranoia. His inner demons twisting things into shadows that aren’t really there.

Except Tony Stark is rarely wrong.

It starts as a nagging thought, one he keeps pushing away. He tries to focus on his work, on the new suit he’s been designing, on anything that doesn’t involve picturing you laughing at someone else’s jokes or holding someone else’s hand. But every time Cole comes up in conversation, every time you casually mention something he said or did, Tony feels that tiny itch in the back of his brain grow stronger.

Something doesn’t add up.

“Cole’s great, Tony,” you tell him one night, completely oblivious to the way his jaw tightens when you say the guy’s name. You’re sitting across from him in the lab, fiddling with a new circuit board. “I mean, he’s sweet, and he listens, and—God, I think I might actually be falling for him.”

Tony’s stomach drops. He’s heard you talk about Cole before, but this is different. There’s a softness in your voice, a vulnerability that makes his chest ache. You’re not just infatuated; you’re serious about this guy.

“That’s… great,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really. I mean, falling for someone? Huge step. Big deal. Congratulations.”

You glance up at him, frowning slightly. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

“What? No. Thrilled is my middle name. Anthony Thrilled Stark.” He gestures dramatically with his hands, trying to play it off, but the look you give him is skeptical at best.

“Tony…” Your voice is softer now, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

Wrong? No. Everything’s fine. You’re dating a guy who he’s never met but already hates, and Tony’s spent every spare moment pretending it doesn’t feel like he’s losing you. Nothing wrong with that.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lies. “I’m just… you know, being overprotective. It’s kind of my thing. But if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

You give him a small smile, the kind that twists the knife a little deeper, and go back to your work. Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to his own desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him.

He tells himself to let it go. To trust you, to trust that you know what you’re doing. But the nagging itch in the back of his brain refuses to fade. Something about this guy doesn’t sit right, and Tony Stark didn’t get to where he is by ignoring his instincts.

So he starts digging.

It’s not creepy. Not really. It’s not like he’s hacking into the guy’s emails or anything (although, let’s be honest, he could). He’s just doing a little background research. Running some basic searches, cross-referencing public records, scrolling through social media. All perfectly legal. All perfectly harmless.

At first, there’s nothing. Cole looks clean—a little too clean, actually. No embarrassing Facebook posts from his college days, no bad reviews from ex-girlfriends, not even a speeding ticket. Tony doesn’t trust it. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, and the fact that Cole’s closet seems spotless only makes Tony more suspicious.

Then he finds it. A single thread, barely noticeable, buried in the endless digital clutter. It’s an old forum post, years old, from someone who claims to have dated Cole. The details are vague, but the tone is unmistakable: bitterness, regret, and a warning for anyone who might follow.

Tony narrows his eyes, digging deeper. The more he finds, the worse it gets. Cole’s spotless public image starts to crumble under closer scrutiny. There are patterns—subtle, but there. Former coworkers describing him as manipulative. An ex-girlfriend mentioning how he’d gaslight her during arguments. A series of short-lived jobs, each ending under murky circumstances. Nothing outright damning, but enough to paint a picture Tony doesn’t like.

He sits back in his chair, staring at the screen. His chest feels tight, a mix of anger and something else—fear, maybe. He doesn’t want to be right about this. He doesn’t want to believe that you could fall for someone like that, someone who might hurt you. But the evidence is staring him in the face, and Tony Stark has never been good at ignoring the truth.

The next day, he watches you more closely than usual. You’re in the lab again, humming softly to yourself as you work. There’s a lightness to you that makes his heart ache. He doesn’t want to ruin that, doesn’t want to be the one to bring you down. But he also can’t stand the thought of staying silent.

“Hey,” he says, leaning casually against your desk. “You free tonight?”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Got another groundbreaking invention to show off?”

“Maybe,” he says, smirking. “But actually, I was thinking dinner. My treat. You, me, and a bottle of ridiculously overpriced wine.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, I already have plans. Cole’s taking me out.”

Of course, he is. Tony’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he covers it with a shrug. “Right. Well, rain check, then.”

“Definitely,” you say, flashing him a smile before turning back to your work.

Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns and heads for his office. He needs a plan—a way to bring this up without sounding like a jealous idiot or an overbearing dad. But as much as he tries to think of the right words, they won’t come.

That night, he paces his workshop, trying to talk himself out of doing something stupid. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Cole isn’t as bad as he seems. Maybe Tony’s just projecting his own insecurities onto the guy. But then he remembers the forum post, the warnings, the pattern of behavior, and his resolve hardens.

He picks up his phone, hesitating for only a moment before dialing your number. You answer on the second ring, your voice warm and familiar.

“Tony? What’s up?”

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound casual. “You busy?”

“I’m with Cole,” you say, and there’s a note of hesitation in your voice, like you’re not sure why he’s calling. “Why?”

Tony swallows, gripping the phone tighter. “I just… wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

There’s a pause, and then you laugh softly. “I’m fine, Tony. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”

But he does. More than he wants to admit. And as he listens to your voice, so full of trust and affection, he knows he can’t keep this to himself for much longer.

“I’ll let you get back to your date,” he says finally, forcing a smile into his voice. “Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thanks, Tony.”

He hangs up, staring at the phone in his hand. The weight in his chest hasn’t lifted. If anything, it’s heavier now.

Because Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. He’s just terrified of losing you to someone who doesn’t deserve you. And the worst part? He doesn’t know if he can stop it.

You never thought it would feel like this—being with someone, falling for someone. Isn’t it supposed to make you happy? Isn’t it supposed to feel safe?

But with Cole, it’s… complicated.

At first, everything seemed perfect. He was sweet, attentive, always quick with a compliment or a thoughtful gesture. You’d convinced yourself he was everything you could ask for in a partner. And maybe for a little while, he was. But now, months into your relationship, cracks have started to show.

It starts small. The occasional offhand comment that stings more than it should. A subtle shift in tone when you talk about your work in the lab. You brush it off at first, telling yourself you’re imagining things. But then it gets worse.

“Late again,” Cole remarks one evening as you walk through the door, exhaustion tugging at your every step. He’s on the couch, his arms crossed, eyes sharp and unyielding. “How many hours did you spend with Stark today?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and accusing. You swallow hard, setting your bag down by the door. “I wasn’t counting, Cole. You know how it is—we had a lot to get through.”

His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, with a pointed sigh, he gets up and walks into the kitchen. “Sure,” he says over his shoulder, the word dripping with bitterness. “Because Tony Stark is the only person in the world who needs your time.”

“Cole…” You trail after him, your voice quiet. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?” He turns to face you, arms braced against the counter. “Because it feels like I’m sharing you with him. And you don’t seem to care.”

The words hit you like a slap. “That’s not fair,” you say, your voice trembling. “Tony’s my friend. We work together. You knew that when we started dating.”

“And maybe that was a mistake,” he snaps, his eyes narrowing. “Because it’s pretty clear where your priorities are.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words don’t come. The guilt that’s been gnawing at you for weeks rises to the surface, sharp and suffocating. You do spend a lot of time in the lab. You do lean on Tony more than you should. Maybe Cole’s right. Maybe you’re the problem.

“I’ll try to do better,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cole’s expression softens, just slightly, and he steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “That’s all I’m asking, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “I just want to feel like I matter to you.”

You nod, forcing a smile even as something inside you twists painfully. “You do. I promise.”

But as the weeks go by, it becomes harder and harder to keep that promise. Cole’s demands grow more insistent, his comments more cutting. You start to dread going home, knowing there’s always another fight waiting for you. And worst of all, you begin to pull back from the one place that’s always felt like home: the lab.

Tony notices, of course. He notices everything.

“Morning, sunshine,” Tony greets you one day, setting a steaming cup of coffee on your desk. “Extra caramel, just the way you like it.”

You look up, startled. “Tony, you didn’t have to—”

“Of course, I did,” he interrupts, flashing you that trademark smirk. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through the day without caffeine?”

Despite yourself, you smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning against your desk. “Although, I have to say, you’ve been a little MIA lately. Should I be offended? Or are you just trying to make me miss you?”

You laugh softly, but the sound feels hollow. “Just… busy, I guess.”

Tony’s eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t buy it. But he doesn’t press. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. “Oh, and I got you this.”

Your brow furrows as you take the box, opening it to reveal a sleek, silver keychain in the shape of a tiny wrench. It’s beautiful, understated but thoughtful, and it makes your chest ache.

“Tony…” Your voice catches. “Why?”

He shrugs, his expression softening. “Saw it and thought of you. That’s all.”

You bite your lip, overwhelmed by the gesture. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

He watches you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You deserve it,” he says quietly. “You deserve more than coffee and keychains, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

His words linger long after he’s gone, echoing in your mind as you work. You wish you could tell him everything—about Cole, about the fights, about the way you’ve started to feel like a stranger in your own life. But you can’t. Tony has enough on his plate without dealing with your problems.

So you keep it to yourself, even as the weight of it threatens to crush you.

The gifts keep coming. A bouquet of your favorite flowers on your workbench one morning. A set of noise-canceling headphones to help you focus. Little things that remind you someone cares, even when you feel like you’re drowning.

Cole notices, of course. “What’s with all the stuff?” he asks one evening, eyeing the flowers on your kitchen counter.

“Just Tony being Tony,” you say, trying to sound casual. “He likes spoiling his friends.”

Cole’s jaw tightens. “Friends,” he repeats, his tone sharp. “Right.”

You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy. Instead, you turn away, pretending not to notice the way his expression darkens.

One night, after another fight with Cole leaves you feeling hollow and drained, you find yourself sitting in the lab long after everyone else has gone home. Tony walks in, a takeout bag in one hand and a familiar, comforting smile on his face.

“Figured you’d still be here,” he says, setting the bag down in front of you. “Dinner’s on me.”

You look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his presence. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He doesn’t push. He just sits beside you, eating in comfortable silence, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe again.

Tony Stark doesn’t say the words. He doesn’t tell you that he thinks you deserve better than Cole, that he thinks you deserve better than him, even. But he doesn’t have to.

In every cup of coffee, every flower, every small act of kindness, he’s telling you that you’re worth more than you’ve been made to believe. And slowly, you begin to believe it too.

For now, it’s enough.

The atmosphere at home feels suffocating these days. The relationship you once cherished with Cole has become a minefield, every step fraught with tension. You’re constantly second-guessing yourself, careful with your words, trying to avoid setting him off. But it never seems to matter. Lately, even your best efforts only seem to fuel the simmering resentment in his eyes.

And Tony’s gifts? They’ve only made things worse.

It starts small, like everything with Cole does. A passing comment, offhanded and laced with sarcasm.

“Another coffee from your friend, huh?” he remarks one morning, his voice just a shade too sharp as he watches you take a sip from the steaming cup Tony had left on your desk.

You force a smile. “It’s just coffee, Cole. Tony’s like that with everyone—he’s generous. You know that.”

His lips twist into a tight smile. “Right. Generous. Just funny how his generosity seems to center around you.”

You bite your tongue, unwilling to let this spiral into another argument. Cole isn’t entirely wrong—Tony has been more attentive lately, but it’s not what Cole thinks. It’s just Tony being Tony, looking out for you the way he always has. There’s nothing wrong with that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But Cole doesn’t drop it.

The next time Tony leaves you flowers, Cole’s reaction is colder, sharper.

“Do you think this is normal?” he asks, his voice low and tight as he stares at the bouquet sitting on your kitchen counter. His fingers drum against the edge of the counter, his jaw clenched. “Your boss giving you flowers?”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “They’re not romantic, Cole. They’re just… thoughtful. Tony knows I’ve been stressed lately, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “And what’s he doing to help with that stress, huh? Bringing you coffee? Flowers? What’s next, jewelry?”

The accusation in his tone stings, and you feel your patience slipping. “Cole, you’re reading way too much into this. Tony and I are friends—nothing more. I shouldn’t have to explain that to you.”

“Maybe you should,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

You flinch at the harshness in his tone, the knot of guilt and frustration tightening in your chest. “This isn’t fair,” you say quietly. “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

Cole scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Y/N. It’s him. Guys like Stark don’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts. There’s always an angle.”

You want to argue, to defend Tony, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So you say nothing, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

The next day, you try to keep your distance in the lab. Tony notices immediately.

“Okay, what’s up?” he asks, leaning casually against your desk as you work. His tone is light, but his eyes are sharp, searching. “You’ve been weird all morning. Did I do something? Forget your birthday? Make a terrible pun that offended your delicate sensibilities?”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s nothing. Just tired.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “Tired, or ‘I’m avoiding something and don’t want to talk about it’ tired?”

You sigh, setting down your tools. “It’s complicated, Tony.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a genius,” he quips, giving you a crooked smile. “Try me.”

You hesitate, chewing on your lip. Part of you wants to open up, to tell him everything about how things have been with Cole. But another part of you is terrified of what that might mean—what Tony might say or do. So instead, you give him the barest truth, the safest version of the story.

“Cole’s just… he doesn’t love the gifts,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or the coffee. Or… well, you.”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?” he repeats, clearly taken aback. “What’d I do?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “It’s just… he thinks you’re too generous. That you’re overstepping.”

Tony stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if my coffee and flowers are causing problems for you, just say the word. I’ll stop.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening. “That’s not what I want, Tony. You’ve been… you’ve been amazing, honestly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His gaze softens, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then he smiles—a small, gentle smile that makes your heart ache. “Well, for the record, I don’t plan on going anywhere. But if you need me to ease up, just let me know, okay?”

You nod, trying to smile back, but the guilt gnaws at you. You hate that Cole’s jealousy has made you second-guess Tony’s kindness, that it’s made you feel like you have to choose between the two of them.

Things with Cole only get worse. The arguments become more frequent, his words sharper, more cutting. He starts keeping tabs on your schedule, questioning every minute you spend in the lab. And when you do come home, he’s cold, distant, like he’s punishing you for something you can’t quite understand.

One night, after another fight leaves you in tears, you find yourself staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over Tony’s contact. You want to call him, to hear his voice, to feel the comfort of his unwavering support. But you don’t. Instead, you curl up on the couch, clutching the tiny wrench keychain he gave you like a lifeline.

Tony doesn’t press you, but he doesn’t back off, either. If anything, he doubles down on the small gestures. He brings you coffee every morning, just like always, but now there’s a little note attached—a joke, a doodle, something to make you smile. He leaves snacks on your desk when you’re too busy to eat, reminds you to take breaks, and even surprises you with a new toolkit when your old one starts falling apart.

“Can’t have my favorite lab partner working with subpar equipment,” he says when you thank him, his tone light but his eyes serious.

Every time he does something like this, it chips away at the walls you’ve been building around yourself. Because Tony doesn’t just make you feel appreciated—he makes you feel seen, like he knows you better than anyone else in the world.

Cole notices, of course. And he’s not happy.

One night, after you come home with another gift from Tony—a small, sleek notebook engraved with your initials—Cole snaps.

“This has to stop,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. He’s pacing the living room, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you let some other guy spoil you like this.”

“Tony’s just being nice,” you say, your voice shaking. “He’s my friend, Cole. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” he spits, turning to face you. “He’s not just your friend, Y/N. No guy spends that much time and energy on someone without expecting something in return.”

The accusation makes your stomach churn. “That’s not true. Tony’s never—”

“He doesn’t have to,” Cole interrupts, his eyes blazing. “You think I don’t see the way he looks at you? The way you light up when he’s around? You’re already halfway out the door, Y/N, and you don’t even realize it.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to tell him he’s wrong, but the truth lodges in your throat, heavy and suffocating. Because part of you knows he’s right.

Tony does look at you like that. And you do light up when he’s around.

But that doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. It doesn’t mean you deserve this—Cole’s anger, his jealousy, the constant feeling that you’re walking on eggshells.

“I can’t do this right now,” you say, your voice breaking. You grab your bag and head in the bedroom, ignoring Cole’s protests as you leave.

It’s been days since the last fight with Cole, but the weight of his words hasn’t left you. He’s been quieter since then, distant but simmering. Every interaction feels like walking a tightrope—one wrong step, and everything will come crashing down.

You try to focus on work, on the comfort of the lab and Tony’s steady presence. But when you’re home, the walls close in. Cole’s criticisms have sunk deep, making you question everything about yourself. When you’re not fighting, there’s a suffocating tension, a calm before the inevitable storm.

One night, after a long shift at the lab, you come home to find him waiting in the living room. His expression is dark, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“You’re late,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of warmth.

You sigh, setting your bag down carefully by the door. “I told you I had to finish something important with Tony.”

“Of course,” he snaps, standing and pacing. “It’s always Tony, isn’t it? Tony this, Tony that. You spend more time with him than you do with me. Do you even want to be here, Y/N?”

The accusation cuts deep, but you’re too tired to argue. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He stops pacing, his eyes narrowing. “Barely. And when you are here, it’s like your mind’s somewhere else. Admit it—you’re thinking about him.”

“Cole, that’s not fair,” you say, your voice shaking. “I’ve told you before—Tony’s my friend. That’s all.”

His laugh is cold, bitter. “You really expect me to believe that? After everything? The gifts, the flowers, the way he looks at you? Hell, the way you light up when he’s around?”

“Stop,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes. “Just stop. I can’t keep having this same fight with you.”

“Then maybe you should leave,” he says harshly, his words like a slap.

The silence that follows is deafening. For a moment, you wonder if he means it. But then his expression softens, and he steps closer, reaching for you.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly. “You know I just… I just get jealous because I care about you. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

You nod, even though your chest feels tight and the words taste bitter.

You let it go. Again.

The breaking point comes a few nights later. You’re in the kitchen, making dinner, when Cole comes home. He’s earlier than usual, and you can tell right away that something’s off. His movements are sharp, his expression stormy.

“Hey,” you say cautiously. “Everything okay?”

“Funny,” he says, dropping his keys on the counter with a loud clatter. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

He holds up his phone, and your stomach sinks when you see what’s on the screen: a photo of you and Tony in the lab. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand lightly brushing his arm.

“Where did you get that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says coldly. “What matters is that while I’m here, worrying about us, you’re out there playing happy little lab partners with Stark.”

“That’s not what this is,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re blowing this out of proportion, Cole. It’s just a picture.”

“Oh, it’s just a picture,” he sneers. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize how disrespectful this is to me?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“I’m done,” he snaps, his voice rising. “I’m done being the guy you come home to while you spend all your time with him. If you want Tony so bad, why don’t you just go be with him?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Cole…” you start, tears streaming down your face. “You’re twisting this into something it’s not. I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” he says harshly. “If you did, you wouldn’t make me feel like this. Like I’m nothing to you.”

Something inside you snaps.

“I’ve done nothing but try to make this work,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’ve bent over backward to prove myself to you, to make you feel secure, and it’s never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for you.”

“Maybe because you’re not enough,” he says, his words cutting like a knife.

The room spins, your chest tightening as the weight of his words crushes you. But then, through the haze of pain, something shifts.

You realize you can’t do this anymore.

You can’t keep living like this—walking on eggshells, shrinking yourself to fit into the narrow mold of what Cole thinks you should be.

Without a word, you turn and walk to the bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag from the closet.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice panicked now.

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this anymore, Cole. I can’t keep sacrificing myself for someone who doesn’t even see me.”

“You’re overreacting,” he says, his tone shifting to pleading. “Y/N, don’t do this. Don’t throw everything away.”

You stop, turning to face him one last time. “You did that all on your own.”

And with that, you walk out the door, the weight lifting off your shoulders even as your heart shatters.

It’s late by the time you arrive at Tony’s penthouse, your hands trembling as you knock on the door. The ride over had been a blur, your mind racing with everything that had just happened. You have nowhere else to go, no one else you can turn to.

When the door swings open, Tony’s standing there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled from what was probably a rare early night in. His eyes widen when he sees you, and then his expression softens, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Y/N?” he says gently. “What’s wrong?”

You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escapes, and before you know it, Tony’s pulling you into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he holds you close. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

For a long moment, you just stand there, letting yourself break in his arms. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t ask questions. He just holds you, his presence steady and grounding.

When you finally pull back, wiping at your tear-streaked face, he guides you inside, leading you to the couch.

“Take your time,” he says softly, sitting beside you. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and then the words start pouring out. You tell him everything—about the fights, the jealousy, the way Cole made you feel like you were never enough. By the time you’re done, your voice is hoarse, and you’re trembling from the weight of it all.

Tony listens quietly, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with anger. But when he speaks, his voice is calm, steady.

“Y/N,” he says, reaching for your hand. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Not a single word, not a single moment.”

The sincerity in his voice breaks something inside you, and fresh tears spill over.

“I just… I thought I could fix it,” you whisper. “I thought if I tried hard enough, I could make him love me the way he used to.”

Tony’s grip on your hand tightens. “You shouldn’t have to try to earn someone’s love,” he says fiercely. “You deserve someone who sees you, who values you for exactly who you are.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, letting his words sink in. And then, for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “For everything.”

Tony smiles softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Always.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in the safety of his presence, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re finally free.

Tony watches you carefully, his expression soft yet laced with worry. You’re sitting on the couch, bundled in one of his blankets, your eyes puffy from crying but starting to regain some of their warmth. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Y/N,” he begins gently, his voice low and calming, “you don’t have to decide anything tonight, but… I want you to know you can stay here. For as long as you need. No questions, no pressure. Just stay.”

The weight of his offer makes you pause. It’s so simple, so heartfelt, yet so overwhelming. After everything that’s happened tonight, the idea of being anywhere but here—with Tony, with his steady strength—feels unbearable.

“Tony, I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head. “This is your home, your space—”

“And now it’s your space too, if you need it,” he interrupts, his tone resolute but kind. “Come on, Y/N. You just walked out on a toxic situation, and you don’t need to figure everything out overnight. This place is big enough to lose half the Avengers in; you’re not crowding me. Besides…” He shrugs, grinning playfully. “I could use a roommate who doesn’t hack into my suits for fun.”

Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh, and Tony’s smile widens, his expression lighting up at the sound.

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding slowly. “Just for a little while.”

Tony leans back, his relief palpable. “Good. And don’t worry about anything. I’ve got guest rooms, extra pajamas—hell, I’ll even share my secret stash of premium ice cream. No strings attached.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You have a secret ice cream stash?”

“Like I’d survive this crazy life without it,” he quips. “Come on, let’s raid it. Ice cream fixes everything.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re sitting side by side on the couch, each armed with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. The TV plays in the background, some cheesy action movie neither of you is really watching. You’ve spent the past ten minutes venting, pouring out everything you’d been bottling up for months—the fights, the manipulation, the way Cole made you feel small and undeserving of love.

Tony listens intently, his expression shifting from anger to sadness to something else entirely—something softer, more protective. Every time you mention Cole’s name, his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He lets you talk, lets you spill everything, and when you finally fall silent, he speaks.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with both anger and sorrow, “I can’t tell you how much I hate that you went through all of that. And I’m trying—really trying—not to go full Iron Man on this guy and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.”

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head. “Please don’t, Tony. He’s not worth it.”

“No, he’s not,” Tony agrees, his tone firm. “But you are. You’re worth everything, Y/N, and you deserve so much better than the crap he put you through.”

His words hit you hard, tears threatening to spill again. But this time, they’re tears of gratitude, of relief. You don’t know what you’d do without Tony’s unwavering support, without his ability to make you feel like you’re not alone.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “For all of this. For everything.”

Tony smiles softly, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”

The night stretches on, and eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in. You’re still on the couch, your ice cream forgotten on the coffee table, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s voice is like a balm to your frayed nerves. You don’t even realize how tired you are until your head starts to droop, leaning closer and closer to Tony.

Before you know it, you’re resting against his shoulder, your breathing slow and even as sleep takes over.

Tony freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. But then he looks down at you, his expression softening into something indescribably tender. He can’t help but smile, his heart swelling with emotions he’s spent years trying to keep at bay.

God, he’s in love with you.

He’s known it for a long time, but seeing you like this—vulnerable, trusting, safe in his presence—it hits him all over again. You’re everything to him, and if he’s being honest, he’s more than a little relieved that you’re finally free of Cole. Not just because of what Cole put you through, but because now there’s a chance—a tiny, fragile chance—that you might one day see Tony the way he sees you.

But tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about you.

Carefully, Tony shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around you to make sure you’re comfortable. He grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you with practiced ease. You murmur something in your sleep, nuzzling closer to him, and his smile grows impossibly wider.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

He sits there for a long time, holding you as you sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of the future—of what he can do to help you heal, to make you feel whole again. Because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s this:

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel unloved or unworthy again.

Life at Tony’s penthouse is different—quiet, comforting, and safe. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like you’re holding your breath. No more walking on eggshells, no more second-guessing yourself over every little thing. It’s strange, this newfound sense of freedom, but slowly, you’re beginning to settle into it.

Tony, of course, makes it easy. He’s there in every way you need, whether it’s with his quick wit that always coaxes a laugh from you, or the way he seems to sense when you’re overwhelmed and knows just when to step in—or back off. He never pries, never pushes, but he’s always there.

A week into your stay, he insists on taking care of what you’ve been dreading.

“Y/N,” he says one morning over coffee, “I’ve got it handled.”

You frown, looking up from your mug. “Got what handled?”

“Your stuff,” he says casually, as if it’s no big deal. “I sent Happy and the team over to Cole’s to grab everything that’s yours. No way I’m letting you go back there and deal with him. Ever.”

Your stomach twists at the mention of Cole, but the weight lifts just as quickly at Tony’s matter-of-fact tone. He’s already handled it, just like that. No drama, no arguments, no lingering ties to your old life.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stammer, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Say thank you, and maybe bake me some cookies later. I hear you make a mean chocolate chip.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Thank you, Tony. Really.”

He winks. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

When the boxes arrive later that day, it’s bittersweet. You’re relieved to have your things back, but seeing them stacked in the corner of the guest room—the room Tony’s insisted is now your room—feels surreal. This is your life now, and it’s so different from what you’ve known.

Tony gives you space as you unpack, but he hovers nearby, always ready with a joke or an offer to help. When you pull out a framed photo of you and your family, your hands freeze, a lump forming in your throat.

Tony notices immediately. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Yeah. Just… it’s a lot.”

“I know,” he says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Take your time. And if you need a distraction…” He holds up a box with a grin. “I’ve got a few boxes labeled ‘miscellaneous,’ and I’m dying to know what you kept in them.”

You laugh, swatting his arm. “Nosy.”

“Hey, I’m offering my world-class organizing skills here. I’m practically Martha Stewart.”

His antics make it easier to get through the day, and by the time you’ve unpacked, the guest room feels less like a temporary space and more like a home.

Living with Tony is… easy.

He’s nothing like Cole, and that contrast is both liberating and disorienting. He doesn’t criticize you for sleeping in or for spending hours tinkering with your own projects in the lab. He doesn’t demand to know where you’ve been if you step out for a walk, or guilt you for wanting time alone.

Instead, Tony encourages you to take up space, to be yourself.

“You’ve got ideas, Y/N,” he says one day as you both work in the lab. “Brilliant ones. Don’t hold back just because you think I’ll be offended. Hell, half the time, you’re smarter than me. And trust me, that’s a compliment I don’t give lightly.”

You smile, the warmth in his words chasing away the lingering doubts that still sometimes creep in.

“You really mean that?”

“Always,” he says firmly.

And it’s not just his words—it’s his actions, too. Every morning, there’s a cup of your favorite coffee waiting for you, often accompanied by something small and thoughtful. One day, it’s a book you’d mentioned weeks ago. Another, it’s a tiny model of a starship from your favorite sci-fi series.

And sometimes, it’s flowers.

You find a fresh bouquet on the kitchen counter one morning, the note attached reading:

“For the brightest part of my day. -T”

Your heart swells, and you catch yourself smiling like a lovestruck teenager.

Not everything is smooth sailing, though. There are moments when the shadows of your past creep in, moments when Cole’s voice echoes in your mind, making you second-guess yourself.

One evening, after spending hours in the lab with Tony, you sit at the kitchen counter, staring at the empty takeout container in front of you. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your thoughts. Cole’s voice whispers in your ear: You’re wasting time again, Y/N. Neglecting the things that really matter.

Tony notices immediately.

“Hey,” he says, setting down his tablet and moving to your side. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You hesitate, not wanting to burden him. But Tony doesn’t let it slide.

“Y/N,” he says gently, his voice coaxing. “Talk to me.”

“I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like I’m wasting time, or I’m not…”

“Not what?” Tony prompts, his brow furrowing.

“Not enough,” you say, your voice breaking.

Tony’s expression softens, and he crouches beside you, taking your hands in his.

“Y/N,” he says firmly, his voice full of conviction. “You are more than enough. Anyone who made you feel otherwise was wrong. Dead wrong. And if I ever meet him…” His jaw tightens, but then he exhales, forcing himself to relax. “Let me rephrase. If I ever meet him, I’ll shake his hand for one reason only—because he was stupid enough to let you go, and now I get to remind you every day how incredible you are.”

You blink, his words sinking in like sunlight breaking through a storm.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Tony grins. “Of course I do. Have you met me? I don’t say things I don’t mean. Now, come on. Let’s grab dessert and watch something terrible on TV. My treat.”

He pulls you to your feet, and for the first time in a long time, you feel light—free.

As the weeks pass, you start to feel more like yourself again. Tony’s unrelenting support, his thoughtfulness, and his ridiculous sense of humor remind you that life doesn’t have to be heavy, that you can be happy without fear of consequences.

And through it all, Tony is there—steady, reliable, and quietly, hopelessly in love with you.

It’s an ordinary evening at Tony’s penthouse. You’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a soft smile on your face as you watch Tony make an attempt—well, a valiant attempt—at cooking dinner. He’s muttering something about how much easier it would be if he could just program JARVIS to handle all his culinary disasters, and the sight is enough to make your chest feel warm.

For months now, you’ve been living here, slowly piecing yourself back together. Tony has been your anchor, your constant, and somewhere along the way, the feelings you’d kept buried for so long started to resurface. At first, you chalked it up to gratitude, to the safety he gave you, but now you know better.

You’re in love with him.

It terrifies you—because the last time you opened yourself up to someone, it left you shattered. But this is Tony. He’s nothing like Cole, and deep down, you know he never would be.

Still, you haven’t told him. Not yet.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the counter pulls you out of your thoughts. The number on the screen is unfamiliar, but without thinking, you answer.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and then a voice you haven’t heard in months makes your blood run cold.

“Y/N,” Cole says, his tone smooth and familiar, and your stomach clenches.

Panic floods your veins, your breathing hitching as you freeze in place.

“Y/N, it’s me. Look, I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I just… I need to talk to you. I need you to understand—”

Your mind races, and suddenly, the walls of Tony’s penthouse feel too close, too confining. Before you can respond—or hang up—the phone is gently taken from your hand.

You look up to see Tony standing beside you, his expression calm but deadly serious.

“Who is this?” he says, his tone steely as he presses the phone to his ear.

There’s a pause, and you watch as Tony’s jaw tightens. He glances at you, his eyes softening briefly before his face hardens again.

“Cole,” Tony says, his voice low and dangerous. “Yeah, I know who you are. And you’re going to listen very carefully. This is the last time you’ll ever call her. If you try to contact her again—in any way—I’ll make sure the authorities know exactly who you are and what you’ve done. Am I clear?”

You hear muffled protests on the other end, but Tony doesn’t let him get another word in.

“Good,” Tony snaps, and then he ends the call, tossing your phone onto the counter.

The room falls silent, save for the sound of your uneven breathing. Tony turns to you, his expression softening immediately.

“Y/N,” he says gently, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to bother you again. I promise.”

You nod, but the panic is still bubbling under the surface, your hands trembling as you try to process what just happened.

“Come here,” Tony says softly, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. His embrace is warm, solid, and for the first time since you heard Cole’s voice, you feel like you can breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Tony pulls back just enough to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Hey, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. Not a single thing.”

You nod, but tears spill down your cheeks anyway. Tony reaches up, brushing them away with his thumb.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You’re safe here. With me. He doesn’t get to have any power over you anymore, okay? Not while I’m around.”

You sniffle, managing a small nod. “Okay.”

Tony’s arms tighten around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“You’re stronger than you know,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sink into you, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Thank you, Tony.”

He smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Always, sweetheart.”

And in that moment, as you look into his warm brown eyes, you feel something shift. The fear and panic begin to fade, replaced by something else entirely—something safe, steady, and unwavering.

It’s love. And this time, it feels like it could be yours.

Tony Stark steps out of his sleek black Audi, the hum of the engine fading as he straightens his suit jacket. The dimly lit street in front of Cole’s crummy apartment is a far cry from the luxury of the penthouse, and the contrast isn’t lost on him. He checks his watch briefly—he doesn’t want to take too long. Not when you’re back at home, waiting for him to start your movie night.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the discomfort of what he’s about to do. This isn’t his style, not anymore. But for you? For you, he’d tear apart the world.

Walking up the cracked concrete steps, Tony barely glances at the graffiti-covered walls or the muffled arguments echoing from other apartments. He finds Cole’s unit easily enough; Happy’s intel was, as always, flawless. Without hesitation, he knocks sharply.

The door creaks open, revealing Cole’s confused face. It takes him a moment to recognize Tony, but when he does, his confusion morphs into unease.

“Tony Stark?” Cole asks, his voice unsure. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Tony doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk.”

Cole scoffs, attempting to mask his nerves with bravado. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. And Y/N—”

“Stop,” Tony cuts him off, his tone sharp as a knife. He steps forward, his presence filling the doorway. “You don’t get to say her name. Not after everything you’ve done.”

Cole backs up slightly, his bravado slipping. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this is none of your business.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his expression calm but ice-cold. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Y/N is my business. She’s under my roof, and she’s finally starting to feel like herself again after everything you put her through. And then you had the audacity to call her?” He steps closer, his voice lowering to something almost lethal. “Big mistake.”

Cole tries to put on a sneer, but it doesn’t quite land. “What are you gonna do, Stark? Use your money to buy me off? Intimidate me with your Iron Man shtick?”

Tony smirks, pulling a sleek envelope from his jacket pocket. “Actually, yeah, I am.” He tosses the envelope onto a nearby table. “Inside, you’ll find a one-way ticket to France, fully paid for, and a sizable amount of cash to make sure you don’t come crawling back anytime soon. Call it my version of charity.”

Cole picks up the envelope, flipping through the contents with a scowl. “And what if I don’t take it?”

Tony steps closer, his voice dropping to a low, deadly tone. “Then I’ll make sure everyone knows who you really are, Cole. Your manipulative, gaslighting, toxic little games? They’re over. If you so much as breathe in Y/N’s direction again, I’ll ruin you in ways you can’t even imagine. You won’t just lose her—you’ll lose everything.”

Cole glares at him, but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, I can,” Tony interrupts smoothly, leaning in so his face is mere inches from Cole’s. “And I will. Because she deserves peace, and I’m going to make damn sure she gets it. So take the deal, Cole. Consider it the best option you’ll ever get.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Cole’s jaw tightens, but he knows he’s been cornered. With a muttered curse, he throws the envelope onto the table.

“Fine,” Cole snaps. “I’ll take your stupid deal.”

Tony straightens, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Smart choice. Now, pack your things. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning. And remember…” He pauses at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Stay gone.”

Without another word, Tony leaves, his steps confident as he heads back to his car.

By the time Tony returns to the penthouse, the tension in his chest has eased. He knows Cole won’t be a problem anymore, and that knowledge alone is enough to make him feel lighter.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. You look up as he enters, a soft smile spreading across your face.

“There you are,” you say warmly. “I was starting to think you bailed on me.”

Tony grins, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Bail on movie night? Not a chance.”

He sits down beside you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and leaning back into the cushions. The tension from earlier melts away entirely as you press play on the movie, your laughter filling the room moments later.

Tony glances at you, his chest tightening—not with worry, but with something far sweeter. You’re here, you’re safe, and you’re smiling.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

The morning sun filters through the penthouse windows, bathing the living room in golden light. You’re seated on the couch, your laptop balanced on your knees as you scroll through apartment listings. A knot tightens in your stomach with every tab you open, but you keep going. This is what you need to do, you tell yourself. It’s time to stand on your own two feet again.

Tony strolls in, coffee mug in hand, dressed casually in sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt that somehow looks effortlessly stylish. His hair is tousled, as if he just woke up, and the sight makes your heart ache more than you’d like to admit.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice warm and gravelly. He nods toward your laptop. “What’re you working on?”

You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I… I’m looking for apartments.”

Tony freezes mid-sip, lowering his mug with exaggerated slowness. “Apartments?” he echoes, his tone carefully neutral.

“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile. “I mean, I’ve been here for months now. You’ve been more than generous, Tony, but I think it’s time I find my own place. Get back to normal, you know?”

Tony leans against the counter, his gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence stretches just long enough to make you squirm.

“Normal?” he finally says, a hint of teasing in his voice. “What’s so great about normal? I thought you liked our penthouse movie nights, me burning half the dinner, and JARVIS randomly suggesting we upgrade the toaster.”

You laugh softly, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “I do like all that. It’s just… I can’t stay here forever. I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own.”

Tony’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He sets his mug down on the counter, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/N. Least of all me.”

“It’s not about proving something to you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “It’s about proving it to myself. I’ve been leaning on you for so long, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. But…”

Tony’s lips press into a thin line, and he nods, cutting you off gently. “But you’re ready to spread your wings, find your own space. I get it.”

He’s trying so hard to sound casual, but you see through him. His eyes don’t quite meet yours, and his usual easy confidence seems dimmed.

You hate how much it hurts to see him like this. And worse, you hate how much it hurts you to even consider leaving.

“Tony, it’s not like I’ll be far,” you say, trying to ease the tension. “I’ll visit all the time. You’ll probably get sick of me dropping by unannounced.”

Tony finally meets your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not possible. But, hey, if that’s what you want, I’ll support you.”

The words are so simple, so Tony. He’s always supported you, always put your needs above his own. And maybe that’s part of why leaving feels so wrong.

Over the next few days, you keep searching for apartments, though your heart isn’t in it. You don’t want to leave—not really—but the fear that’s been gnawing at you since Cole resurfaces every time you catch Tony looking at you a little too long, or when his hand brushes yours during movie night, or when he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re falling for him. Hard.

And it terrifies you.

You’ve been burned before, shattered by someone you thought you could trust. And even though Tony is nothing like Cole—even though he’s shown you nothing but kindness and care—part of you can’t help but think that loving him would leave you just as broken.

So you push him away, bit by bit.

Tony notices.

One evening, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner. You don’t hear Tony approach until he’s standing next to you, leaning casually against the counter.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he says, his tone light but probing.

You glance at him, forcing a smile. “Have I?”

He nods, studying you with those sharp, perceptive eyes. “You’re pulling back. I can see it.”

Your hands still, and you grip the edge of the counter. “I’m not pulling back,” you say weakly.

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if you need space, just say so. I’ll back off, no questions asked. But if this is about more than just apartments…” He trails off, searching your face.

You shake your head quickly. “It’s not about anything else.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press further.

“Okay,” he says softly. “If that’s what you want.”

That night, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The guilt churns in your stomach, warring with the fear you can’t seem to shake.

You think about Tony—his laugh, his kindness, the way he makes you feel like you’re worth something.

And then you think about Cole, about the way he made you feel small, worthless, afraid.

Tears prick at your eyes as you realize the truth: you’re not pushing Tony away because of him. You’re pushing him away because of you. Because you’re scared of letting yourself be loved, scared of what it means to let someone in again.

But deep down, you know that Tony isn’t Cole. He never has been, and he never will be.

The thought stays with you as you drift off to sleep, unsure of what tomorrow will bring—but certain of one thing.

Tony Stark has your heart. And maybe it’s time to let him keep it.

The new apartment is nice. Spacious enough, with lots of natural light pouring through the big windows. It has the kind of charm you’d usually love—cozy corners for reading, a kitchen you can actually picture yourself cooking in. But as you stand in the middle of the living room, surrounded by neatly stacked boxes and the faint smell of fresh paint, it feels hollow.

Tony is across the room, carefully setting down a box labeled "fragile." He straightens up, brushing imaginary dust off his hands, and gives you a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s the last of it. You’re officially moved in.”

You force a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as his eyes flicker over your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, avoiding his gaze.

He doesn’t push, just nods slowly. “Right. Well…” He glances around, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How about one last night at the penthouse? A farewell to the old place before you settle in here.”

You hesitate. You know he’s giving you an excuse, a reason to stall without outright saying it. But the idea of leaving this quiet, empty apartment for one more night in the warmth of his home… in the warmth of him… is too tempting to resist.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Tony’s face lights up, and it tugs at something deep in your chest. “Great. Let’s go grab takeout and pick a movie. Your choice this time.”

That night, you’re lying in bed in Tony’s penthouse, staring at the ceiling. The sound of the city hums faintly in the background, but your mind is far from quiet.

This doesn’t feel right. None of it does.

Moving into the new apartment, leaving behind the safety and comfort of Tony’s home—it feels like you’re walking away from something you don’t actually want to let go of.

Your chest tightens as you think about him, about the way he’s been your constant these past months. The way he’s shown you kindness and patience, reminding you of your worth when you’d forgotten it. The way he looks at you, like you’re the most important person in the world.

And the truth you’ve been avoiding hits you like a freight train: You’re in love with him. You have been for a long time.

The thought makes your heart race—not with fear, but with something else entirely. Something that feels a lot like hope.

Unable to stay still, you throw off the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You need to tell him. Now.

But when you open the bedroom door, you find him standing there, in his plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, looking startled to see you.

“Tony?” you whisper, confused.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, I wasn’t spying or anything, I just… I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier, and I thought—”

“You were standing outside my door?”

“Yeah,” he admits, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that, but I didn’t want to bother you if you were sleeping, so…”

Your heart swells at the sight of him—this brilliant, confident man looking so adorably unsure of himself.

“Tony,” you say softly, stepping closer.

He takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “I need to say something,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And I know the timing sucks, and I’m probably going to mess this up, but… I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. And I know you’ve been through hell, and the last thing I want to do is make things harder for you, but I can’t keep it in anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat, but Tony doesn’t stop.

“I get it if you’re not ready, or if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed you to know. Because having you in my life has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and—”

You don’t let him finish.

Closing the space between you, you press your lips to his, cutting off his rambling with a kiss that’s soft and certain.

Tony freezes for a moment, his brain seemingly short-circuiting, before he kisses you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hands come up to cup your face, holding you like you’re something precious, something he can’t quite believe is real.

When you finally pull back, his eyes are wide, his expression caught somewhere between stunned and elated.

“I want to give this a chance,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, and I need to go slow, but… I want this. I want you.”

Tony’s face splits into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen, and he looks at you like you’ve just handed him the universe.

“As slow as you want,” he says quickly, his voice full of breathless excitement. “But, uh… can I have another kiss? Just, you know, to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

You laugh, your heart lighter than it’s been in years. “Yeah, you can have another kiss.”

And when you kiss him again, it feels like coming home.

Life with Tony Stark as your boyfriend is both everything you expected and nothing like you imagined. He’s indulgent, affectionate, and relentless in making you feel like the most important person in the world. But there’s also an unshakable tenderness in how he supports you—helping you unpack not just the physical baggage of your life but the emotional scars left behind by Cole.

It starts with the small things.

In the weeks following your confession, Tony seems to be on a personal mission to make you laugh every day. He whisks you off to rooftop picnics, surprises you with coffee at exactly the right time during your workday, and keeps gifting you little trinkets he claims “just reminded me of you.” One morning, you wake to find a tiny key-shaped necklace on your bedside table with a note attached: “You already have the key to my heart, but this one’s cuter.”

He doesn’t stop there. Every chance he gets, Tony casually reminds you of your beauty. Whether it’s a whispered “God, you’re stunning” as he watches you brush your hair, or a grin as he walks into the room and says, “How are you real?” he refuses to let a day pass without telling you how much you mean to him.

At first, it’s overwhelming. You’re not used to this—to being loved so openly, so freely, without conditions.

And sometimes, the habits Cole drilled into you creep in.

One night, you’re cooking dinner. It’s been a long day for both of you, but Tony insists on helping, chopping vegetables while chatting animatedly about a new design he’s working on. You laugh at his enthusiasm, but there’s a pang of guilt in your chest as you glance at the cluttered counter.

“I should’ve cleaned up first,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”

Tony pauses, knife mid-air, and looks at you with furrowed brows. “What?”

“It’s just… messy,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day, and—”

“Whoa, hold up,” he interrupts, setting the knife down. “Y/N, I’m not exactly allergic to a few crumbs on the counter. And even if I were, it wouldn’t matter because I’m here with you.”

You glance away, embarrassed. “I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Tony steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not an inconvenience. You’ve never been an inconvenience. If you leave a mess, we clean it up. If you’re tired, we order takeout. Whatever it is, we figure it out together. Okay?”

You nod, blinking back tears.

He leans down to kiss your forehead, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to shrink yourself for me, Y/N. Not ever.”

Moments like that happen often.

You find yourself unconsciously deferring to Tony’s preferences—asking him what he wants to watch, what he wants to eat, what he thinks you should wear. It’s not intentional; it’s just a habit born from years of trying to keep the peace with someone who made you feel like you could never do anything right.

Tony, of course, notices.

“Okay, hold up,” he says one evening, holding the TV remote hostage as you try to hand it to him.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not making this decision,” he declares. “You pick the movie.”

“But—”

“Nope.” He cuts you off with a cheeky grin. “Your turn. I’ll watch anything. Even one of those rom-coms where everyone falls in love during a snowstorm and learns the true meaning of Christmas.”

You laugh despite yourself. “You hate those movies.”

“Not true,” he says with mock seriousness. “I love them if you’re watching with me. So what’s it gonna be?”

It’s a small thing, picking a movie. But when you make your choice and see the way Tony smiles—like he’s proud of you for speaking up—it feels like a victory.

Tony’s affection isn’t just verbal.

He’s incredibly touchy, constantly finding excuses to hold your hand, drape an arm around your shoulders, or pull you into a hug. When you’re working late in the lab, he sneaks up behind you to kiss your temple or nuzzle your neck, murmuring something about how much he loves seeing your “brilliant brain in action.”

And he adores cuddling.

One lazy Sunday morning, you wake to find him practically glued to your side, his arm slung around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder.

“You’re clingy,” you tease, though you make no effort to move away.

“Clingy?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know this is a highly advanced form of affection distribution.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Oh, is that what this is?”

“Absolutely,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Can’t let my girlfriend forget how much I love her. It’s a full-time job.”

Your heart swells at the word girlfriend. It still feels surreal, hearing him say it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Over time, you start to notice a shift within yourself.

The habits you developed around Cole—the constant second-guessing, the need to please, the fear of taking up space—begin to fade. It’s not an overnight change, but it’s there, thanks to Tony’s unrelenting patience and love.

He doesn’t just tell you that you’re enough; he shows you, every single day.

One evening, you’re sitting on the couch together, your legs draped over his lap as you sip a glass of wine. Out of nowhere, he says, “You know you’re amazing, right?”

You look at him, surprised. “What brought that on?”

“Just felt like saying it,” he replies with a shrug, though there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you have this way of lighting up a room without even trying. I don’t think I’ve told you that today, so…”

You set your glass down and lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what?” he asks, his arms sliding around your waist.

“For loving me the way you do.”

Tony pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression serious. “Y/N, loving you isn’t something I do. It’s who I am.”

Months pass, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—a life filled with laughter, love, and the occasional mishap (usually involving Tony’s cooking experiments).

You start to feel like yourself again, like the person you were before Cole, only stronger. And every time you catch Tony looking at you with that soft, adoring expression, you’re reminded that this is what love is supposed to feel like.

Safe. Supportive. Unconditional.

And every day, you fall for him a little more.

Girls, boys, people, never ever doubt your self worth, and more than anything don't let anyone make you doubt of it. Because you're worth it, you're worth everything. Remember, if he hits you, it's not love, if he makes you feel small or underserving or bad, or anything like that, it's not love. Love is supposed to turn you to the best version of yourself, to make you happy. Always remember that <3

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merlincmgirl · 2 days ago

Text

Threesome - Wrecker x FReader x Crosshair - NSFW

Summary: Wrecker and Crosshair love to get you alone away from the rest of their brothers.

Characters: Wrecker, Crosshair, Hunter, Echo, Tech and Omega

Pairing: Wrecker x F!Reader x Crosshair (NO clonecest)

Word Count: 8,961

Warnings: oral (male & female receiving), riding, PinV sex, Anal Sex, vaginal & anal fingering, dirty talk, fluff and smut, s-word (said only once by Cross), nipple play, double penetration.

Author's Note: This took me so long to write, my writer's block just would not leave me. I hope you all like it, I'm definitely still writing for the others in Kinktober, I know I am very late. But after focusing on my health, it's left me with little time to write.

“It’s not fair, how come Wrecker and Crosshair gets to stay behind with you” Omega complained, hanging off the back of the flight chair, as you attempted to appear exhausted and in pain.

“Sorry, Omega, I guess they drew the short straw” you apologised, genuinely feeling sorry for the young girl. But it had been nearly 27 days since the last time you had gotten any kind of intimacy with your partners. You were going to do anything it takes at this point to get them alone.

“But Wrecker and I normally buy sweets for the way back to the ship” she pouted, sighing heavily as she rested her head on the seat.

“I know Omega, how about you bring him some back for when we’re ready to head off. I’m sure he’d love that” you suggested, squeezing her shoulder as you crouched down in front of her. Making sure that you were looking at her from her height, you took her smaller hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I also have an important job for you as well, do you think you can do that, Omega?” you told her, watching as she stood up straight and looked at you eagerly.

“I can do that!” she assured, stepping closer to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I need to get some Kashyyyk nuts from the market. My mother used to give them to me as a snack when I wasn’t feeling well. Do you think you can get them for me?” you asked her, smiling at the way her eyes widened in surprise. You didn’t really talk much about your family, and she had never had a typical family, so she was always eager to know more about you.

“Of course! I’ll find them for you, I promise. I’m going to tell Hunter about my mission!” Omega swore, face going stern and determined before she raced off down the ramp to where Hunter and Wrecker was unloading crates from the ship. Hunter looked up at you, obviously catching your conversation, raised an eyebrow and shook his head, turning back to listen to what Omega was telling him.

“That was cruel, sending her out to get something that you know she’ll never be able to find on this planet. Kashyyyk doesn’t export here” a voice from the cockpit stated, and you turned to see Echo leaning against the door.

“Only a little, it’ll wear her out for you while you’re gathering supplies” you agreed, wincing at the lie that you had told the young girl. “Besides, if her brothers would let me, Wrecker, and Crosshair have some alone time together, then I wouldn’t have to resort to such desperate measures” you said pointedly, tapping his chest plate as he passed you to the ramp.

“You have plenty of alone time in the bunks, we can all hear you” Echo grimaced, remembering all the times he had woken up to the sounds of pleasure before he had stuffed his pillow over his head.

Flushing, you couldn’t help but admit he was right about that. “It’s not the same though. Besides, Hunter said it was fine that they stay here” you shrugged, remembering that conversation. It had been embarrassing for the both of you.

“Partly so that he doesn’t have to deal with Crosshair’s increasingly irritating behaviour” Tech grumbled, coming out the bunks with said trooper in tow. Tech was going through the inventory that they already had, creating a list of everything they needed to get.

However your eyes fell on his brother behind him, dressed in only his blacks, a toothpick rolling in his mouth. His eyes met yours and they softened, losing that annoyance that was present in them more and more as the days dragged on.

As soon as you were in reaching distance, he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you into him, burying his face into your hair. “Hey kitten” he greeted quietly, keeping you as close to him as possible.

“Hey Cross” you smiled, leaning into him and taking in his soothing scent. He must have freshly showered, the smell of his body wash and shampoo was extra strong today. No wonder Hunter was off the ship.

“Please do not engage in sexual intercourse on my desk or my bunk. There are a number of delicate projects that I do not want you breaking” Tech interrupted, looking between you two but focusing his scowl on Crosshair.

“It was worth it, you should have seen the way she-” Cross smirked, squeezing your hips and watching as both Echo and Tech looked disgusted at that.

“Cross!” you hissed, slamming a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence. They didn’t want to know, and you certainly didn’t want them knowing.

However, you were thankfully rescued from the mortifying situation.

“Alright, we’re ready to head out. Do you need anything else while we’re gone?” Hunter announced, coming up the ramp with Wrecker and Omega behind him.

“Nothing that you can provide” Crosshair sneered, his voice dripping with annoyance that they were still here. There was a lot of snickers from his brothers and Wrecker full out laughed at that. Noticing Omega’s confused look between everyone, you subtly shoved your elbow into his ribs.

“Why? What are you going to need when we’re gone? Are you really sick?” Omega questioned, turning her concerned and confused eyes onto you.

Pushing Cross away from you so you could comfort his sister, you shook your head and gave her a warm hug. “I’m okay, Omega, I promise. Nothing that a bit of bed rest and some snacks won’t fix. I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today, Cross and Wrecker was kind enough to keep me company and help” you assured, pulling away from her to see her acceptance of your words.

“Well, now that’s sorted, we’d best be going if we want to be back before dark” Echo decided, ushering Omega and Tech down the ramp and off the ship, a hand on Omega’s shoulder and scomp on Tech’s.

“Alright, keep your comms on. I mean it this time, we won’t call, and you better not call us unless you want to scar our baby sister. But just in case, keep them on” Hunter ordered the three remaining members of his squad, looking between you all.

“Will do! Have fun!” Wrecker called, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your temple. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back into his wonderful embrace.

Hunter stopped just before the gangway, looking back with a narrowed eyed look. “And I want this ship thoroughly cleaned before we come back!” he demanded, voice stern and full of the Sergeant tone that he used while on the battlefield.

“Yes, Sarge!” you promised, hoping he would at least believe you. It was probably an awful smell to come back to. Your brothers fucking their girlfriend over the ship and not being able to air out the ship enough for it to go before take off.

Hunter’s lips twitched into a fond smile before giving you a lazy salute and headed off to catch up with the others.

“Finally!” Crosshair growled, hand clutching at the nape of your neck and bringing you in for a rough kiss. His lips pressed against yours, grazing his teeth along your bottom lip before licking it soothingly as he pulled away.

Giggling, you turned back to Wrecker, standing on your tip toes to kiss him as well.

Wrecker let out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up, closing the distance between you as you cupped his face, deepening the kiss now that you were the same height. “Feels so good to be holding you like this, mesh’la” Wrecker’s deep, soothing voice murmured. You could feel the vibrations echo form his chest to yours from how tight you were pressed against him.

“Me too! It’s been way too long since we’ve been able to do this” you agreed, pressing your lips to his once more. He ran a hand up your spine, following the contours of your body before threading his fingers through your hair and holding you in place as his lips explored yours.

“Never thought that after a kid our sex lives would dwindle so much” Crosshair grumbled, his dark eyes observing every move you and Wrecker made with each other.

Wrecker leaned forward and whacked him in the shoulder, sending the lithe clone jolting forward. “Cut it out! You love Omega just as much as the rest of us!” Wrecker objected, shaking his head at his brother.

“Maybe even more” you added, smirk playing on your lip. Crosshair was definitely the worse one when it came to looking after Omega, he was so protective and considerate of her. Cross had been right, he was certainly worse than Hunter. “But I can’t deny that it’s been a long time since we’ve managed to get alone time. Not that I’m complaining, that little girl is worth it” you grinned, as Wrecker put you back down on the floor.

Crosshair hummed, pulling you back into him so that his chest was pressed against your back. He refused to dignify that statement with an answer. It was well known that Crosshair worried about Omega more than Hunter did, loved her just as fiercely, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. Not even to his lover and brother.

Sighing softly at the feel of his warmth seeping into your back, you leaned heavily against him, turning to nuzzle at his jaw. Smiling, you felt the sharp shooter relax, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand slid up your loose top, his lithe fingers drawing small patterns on your stomach and hips. Grinning, you struggled not to move under his tickling touch, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you.

“You’re wearing too many clothes” his raspy voice caressed your ear and you rolled your eyes, sending a smile towards Wrecker at Crosshair’s words.

“Oh am I?” you drawled, spinning around in his arms to tug on his own shirt, “I’m wearing just as much as you.”

“She’s got you there, vod!” Wrecker agreed, hands landing on your shoulders and sliding down your back before trailing back up, beginning to massage your shoulders.

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but appreciate Wrecker’s firm but relaxing touch. It had been a while since you had last had a massage and you could feel the tension bleed out of you. His thumb pressed against a particular large knot in your shoulder blade and you let out a groan, resting your head on Cross’ chest.

“Hmm, you’re so good at this Wrecker. Going to leave me in a puddle before we even start” you murmured, playing with the buttons of Cross’ shirt. You began to work them loose, exposing more of his skin to you. His body wasn’t as scarred at the others, due to the nature of his role on the squad as the sniper, but there was a particular one from a well aimed shot that always caught your attention. It was just below his left pec, a shot had glanced off his ribs luckily, but if it had been a few more inches to the right, it would have killed him. So you always laid a kiss to the scar, thanking the stars and whatever Gods or Goddesses out there that he had survived.

Crosshair grunted, cheeks heating at your attention to his scar, glad that you couldn’t see his face. It always sent warmth flooding through his body at your gentle kisses and sweet touches to the parts that many would find unattractive. He had asked you once why you did it, why you paid so much attention to the scars that littered both his and Wrecker’s body. He still remembers the sad look that had crossed your face, as you admitted that they were a reminder that they were here with you, that the universe had decided to save him and his brother for you. That night, none of you had gotten any sleep.

“We’re wasting time” Cross grumbled, pushing you away slightly so he could begin working on the clothes that kept your beautiful body away from their gazes.

“You’re in a hurry!” Wrecker teased, as his large hands landed on your waist and began to unbuckle your trousers, sliding them down your hips.

“Why am I the only one getting undressed here?!” you laughed, shimmying in Wrecker’s hands out of your trousers and kicking them away from you. Turning around, you raised an eyebrow at Wrecker and tugged on the top half of his civvie clothes. “Strip!” you ordered him, voice firm but playful.

“Yes ma’am” he saluted, hurrying to pull off his top.

You turned to Crosshair, already seeing him shrug off his shirt. Perfect, this was exactly what you wanted. Your two perfect lovers, displaying themselves for you after so long. Your lustful eyes ran over them, taking in the scars that dotted and speckled their tanned skins.

Wrecker was large, his size dwarfing you, but he always made you feel so safe. His large arms were thicker than your face, but they could pick you up and hold you close to him whenever you weren’t feeling too good or whenever you just wanted to be held by the loveable giant. His scar on the left side of his face ran down his neck and across his shoulders. It was something he was very mindful of, especially with the scar being so prominent on his face, but you loved it, reassuring him over and over that he was handsome, that you loved him and that he should be proud of how far he had come since the blast that had taken his eye and damaged his hearing. He was more than just his injury.

Crosshair was always a treat to watch as he revealed himself for you. His long, slender body was so wonderful to be pressed against. All the batch was different shapes and sizes, but Crosshair was beautiful. He had the grace and fluidity of a dancer, able to move quickly and efficiently without worrying if he was going to hit a shot. His broad shoulders and large arms weren’t as big as Wrecker’s – not many people could be – but they were just as wonderful to hold onto. They were so strong as well, capable of picking you up and hoisting you around. Carrying around his sniper gun and keeping still for hours at a time had done wonders for Cross’ body. And his eyes were so expressive, his face may be as blank as a sheet of flimsi but his eyes told everyone what he was really thinking. At least according to you, Crosshair protested that everyone else could read him so well. But they always observed you, took everything in and saved the information for later. It would have felt creepy if it wasn’t so nice to have his eyes on you.

“Like what you see?” rasped the man running through your mind.

Grinning, you reached for his hand, pulling him closer towards you. “I always like what I see when it comes to you” you assured, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to just below his eye where the tattoo stopped. Turning around, you reached up for Wrecker as well, who chuckled and relented, bending down to help you. Rewarding him, you kissed across the scars along his nose. “Both of you” you added, laying a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“So do we, mesh’la! Now come on, I want to taste you. Been thinking about it for so long!” Wrecker insisted, gripping you around your waist and flinging you onto the bed.

Giggling, you pushed yourself up, watching as he knelt on the bed, running his large, calloused hands up your legs until he gripped your thighs. Biting your lip, you gave him a nod of consent before he pushed your thighs open, spreading them wider than you would have so he could fit himself in between you. He sighed, running his nose up from your knee to your inner thigh, taking you in.

“Whose in a hurry now?” Crosshair snarked, leaning against the wall, watching the way you shivered slightly at the cool air of the marauder and the way Wrecker was touching you.

Wrecker frowned, sitting up slightly to return his brother’s barb but you quickly interrupted them. Running a hand over Wrecker’s head, you tugged him back down to his previous position. He got the memo and began laying kisses along your soft, delicate skin.

“If you can’t play nice, then we won’t play at all!” you warned the sharp shooter, reaching out to poke at his leg.

Cross snorted, climbing up onto the bed next to your head. “Keep telling yourself that, kitten” he drawled, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. He tugged it lightly before settling himself comfortably against the headboard.

From where he was sitting, you could see his cock give a twitch against his thigh as he was supporting a semi. Reaching out for him, you ran feather-light fingers up and down his shaft. Grinning, you watched as his cock gave another twitch and began hardening further.

However, what attention you were giving Crosshair soon stopped, as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your groin, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive core.

“Ready for me, mesh’la?” he asked, squeezing your knee with his large hand and angling your leg just right for him to have room to work.

“Yeah” you breathed, voice catching in your throat as Wrecker lowered his head to your apex and began pressing gentle kisses along your lower lips and folds, starting off soft first. It sent warmth curling through your body at the way he was showering you with love and affection. His left hand came up to massage and rub at your thigh, feeling the soft shiver that ran through you at his touch.

Wrecker finally stopped his gentle caresses and kisses to lick at your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking against the bud and causing you to gasp. Swirling his tongue under the hood of it, he began working his way down to your dampening folds and pushing through them, eager to get to your centre. His large hands kept rubbing and massaging your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him as he lapped at you.

“Fuck, Wreck!” you groaned, eyes sliding shut as you ran a hand over his head and down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer into you. He groaned against you, the vibrations shooting up to your clit and making it throb.

“That’s it, got to get you nice and wet for me. Won’t be able to take me otherwise” he murmured, pressing his tongue inside of you and squeezing your legs at the taste of you exploding on his tongue. “Hmm, Crosshair, you got to try this!” Wrecker insisted, lapping at your cunt while he threw your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Maybe later, I’d rather try her mouth” Crosshair hummed, his hand cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. He looked down into your wide, lust filled eyes and had to bite back a groan of his own. He really wanted you looking like that at him with your lips stretched around his cock.

Nuzzling into his hand, you caught his thump in between your lips, sliding them up and down his finger while making sure to maintain eye contact with him. You could already see how hot and frustrated he was getting, no doubt he wanted to feel you around him. Moaning around him, you flicked and curled your tongue around his thumb, giving him a demonstration of what awaited him.

“Eager, aren’t we, kitten?” he purred, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and smearing your saliva across your bottom lip. “Gonna take me in this pretty mouth?” he asked, pulling down your lip.

“Oh, please!” you gasped, as you felt Wrecker’s tongue curl around the rim of your opening. “Fuck!” you cursed, digging your heels into Wrecker’s back as he sucked one of your folds into his mouth.

Crosshair chuckled, grabbing a few pillows off Hunter’s bed and propping them up behind you so that your head was lifted. He straddled your upper body, pumping his cock a few times.

His cock was so close to you, you could feel the warmth of the sniper pressing against you, his knuckles grazing your lips as his hand worked the length of his cock. But you wanted to taste him, wanted to feel the weight of him in your mouth against your tongue. Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him, you looked up at him, waiting for his next move.

“Kriff! You look so fucking hot like that” Cross hissed, pushing his length into your mouth. He couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as your tongue flicked over the head, collecting the drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

Moaning, you closed your eyes and sunk deeper onto his cock, making sure you hollowed your cheeks out to provide suction for him. Crosshair was of average girth but he was slightly longer than average, and you enjoyed the weight of his cock in your mouth as he began to pull out slowly so you could take a breath.

“That’s it! You’re taking me so well. You were made to suck my cock” Crosshair praised, hand reaching behind him to grip and squeeze at your breast. His long dexterous fingers played with your nipple, brushing over them gently before giving them a sharp tweak. The sound that was muffled by his cock had more blood rushing downwards.

Forcing your eyes open, you ran your hands up and down his powerful thighs, bobbing your head against him while his other hand tangled into your hair. You couldn’t help the cry that you let out as Wrecker began to suck at your clit, giving it lazy luxurious sucks before flicking his tongue across the nub quickly so that your hips bucked up into his mouth. God it felt amazing to have them both against you. Crosshair fucking into your mouth and Wrecker eating you out. It had been too long since you were able to experience just how good they could take you apart and put you back together again.

Holding your head, Crosshair began thrusting into your warm, wet mouth. He kept an beskar-clad control on himself as he felt his cock ache at how good it felt to be surrounded by you. Pinching the nipple in his hand, he let out a loud growl at the way it felt around his cock. Maker, just the thought of you taking him down your throat while his brother had you squirming and writhing on his mouth would tide him over until the next time you could all play.

The pleasure that these two were wringing from you were almost too much. Crosshair was filling your mouth, turning all thoughts to mush as he guided you along his cock, at the pace that he wanted for you. All you had to do was take him. It didn’t help that Wrecker was also distracting you, wrapping his wonderful lips around your clit and brushing his fingers against your opening. He didn’t push in, needing you to relax a little more before he opened you up properly for him. Heat raced through you, your body singing from everywhere they touched you and you couldn’t help but buck your hips into Wrecker while you took Cross further into your mouth.

You gagged a little, and he dragged you up by the hair. “Careful, kitten. I want this to be fun for all of us” he reminded, letting you take a few more breaths in before sliding his cock into your mouth once more.

Moans and cries of pleasures echoed around Crosshair’s cock as you felt your orgasm building and building from them both. Wrecker hummed against your little bundle of nerves, sending shock waves of ecstasy through you as you were shoved over the edge, no warning as Wrecker drank in your juices, moaning at the taste of your release on his tongue.

Crosshair pulled out, admiring the way your hair stuck to your forehead, the way you were panting and had such a relaxed and satisfied look spread over your face. Your body shook at the way your orgasm had washed over you, and he was careful to keep his touch light and reassuring as he ran soothing fingers up and down your arms.

Finally it became too much, and you nudged Wrecker with your feet, pushing him away from you. Taking deep lungfuls of breath, you couldn’t help but beam at them. It felt so good to finally have a release that wasn’t due to your own hand or a quickie under the blankets.

“You okay, mesh’la?” Wrecker checked in, pulling away from you and sitting on his knees. He shoved Crosshair to the side, earning a hiss of anger and a swift kick to the side in retaliation from his brother. But he didn’t seem to mind as he smiled down at you. You always looked gorgeous to him, but you were even more beautiful after having an orgasm because of him.

“I’m good, don’t think my legs work” you murmured, unable to help the giggle that escaped you at the smug and satisfied expression that spread across his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you wherever you want to go” the gentle giant promised, leaning forward to press a kiss to your sweet lips. He cupped your face in his hands, nuzzling your nose as you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and against his tongue. “Maybe Cross can even make you food and drinks!” Wrecker suggested, teasing his brother.

“Don’t even think about it, you’re spoiled enough!” Crosshair rolled his eyes, no real heat in his words.

Beaming, you ran your fingers up his thigh, tracing patterns along his skin, “you love spoiling me, admit it!”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, shaking his head but didn’t deny it. He did love spoiling you, you were his kitten, his princess. If he could, he’d do anything to make your day a little lighter, a littler easier to deal with. You hadn’t been brought up like the rest of his brothers and the regs, why should you have to suffer the hardships that they did. If he could spoil you and give you nice things that made you happy and comfortable then he would.

“Come on, roll her over or we’ll be giving our brothers a show” Crosshair reminded, climbing off the bed to go and reach for his box that stored all of his belongings.

Wrecker grabbed you around the waist, displaying his strength as he brought you into him before flipping you both around until he was on his back and you were plastered against his front. Grinning up at you, he ran his hands up and down your sides, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“Hey handsome” you breathed, enjoying the quiet oasis, just you and him and Crosshair finding your pleasure and touching each other. It was perfect.

“Hey mesh’la. I’m going to open you up for me now, okay? Need you to be nice and relaxed for me so I can get inside you” he smiled, hands sliding down your back until they reached your ass, giving them a good squeeze and tugging you up his chest slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat, just like it always did at the mere thought of Wrecker opening you up for his cock. Wrecker’s fingers were thicker than his brothers’ and capable of hurling you over the edge faster than you could think. But it was needed if you were going to take his cock, the stretch around him was always tight. Spreading your legs wider around his large frame, you gasped at the feel of your nipples brushing against his chest hair.

The bed dipped behind you, and you turned to see Crosshair holding the bottle of lube in his hand. Oh, they were going to take you together then. They must have planned this out before you had managed to grab some alone time away from the others.

Crosshair came and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, working the skin into his mouth and sucking a large bruise there. He worried the skin with his teeth, causing you to gasp before he licked over the mark soothingly. Pulling away, he littered soft, gentle kisses down your spine his hands running soothingly up and down your flanks.

Relaxing into their touches, you couldn’t help but sink into the sensations. They were always so loving to you, touch almost worshipping as they built you higher and higher until you couldn’t help but find release. You would have thought that they’d be more desperate, more demanding after the time you have had to be away from each other. But they seemed to be savouring every touch against your skin, every sound that they pulled out of you and the sight of you pressed between them.

Wrecker pulled you into a kiss, hand sliding in between your body to reach your centre. He could already feel the slick from your previous orgasm there and he eagerly collected it on his fingers, spreading it around to get you nice and wet for him. Nipping at your lip, he soothed the bite with his a slide of his tongue as he pressed one of his thick fingers inside of you.

Gasping against his mouth, you couldn’t help but feel yourself flutter around his finger. You took in a steadying breath, relaxing your muscles against him and mouthing at his chest, hoping to suck a bruise onto him to mark him as yours.

The sound of a bottle cap opening was heard behind you and you tensed up, expecting the cold drizzle of lube running down your ass. But instead, Crosshair squeezed your round globes before pressing a kiss to one of them. “Going to open you up back here for me as well, sweetheart. Think you can take both of us?” he asked, voice genuinely curious and holding no expectation. If you said no, that would be fine, they’d rework their plans.

But you wanted it so much, to be stuffed full by both of your lovers. To be able to feel them even after you had gone back to your normal routine. It had been a while since you took them both, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to. Nodding, you pushed yourself up and twisted around to meet the sniper’s dark eyes and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Good girl, that’s it. All you’ve got to do is lie here and take what we give you” Wrecker grinned, helping you to lie back down on him. He finally began to move his finger inside of you, enjoying just how wet and hot you felt around him. He knew from experience just how amazing you’d feel around his cock.

As you sighed into Wrecker’s chest, relaxing into the gentle push in and out of your entrance, you tensed up at the feel of a lubed up finger swirling around your puckered hole. Cross swiped it around a couple of times before slowly pressing in.

“Oh!”

The sound was punched out of you at the feel of both of them pressing their explorative fingers inside of you. It felt so good. Nerves firing off and shooting pleasure through your body at their slow pace. You clung around them, muscles tensing at the intrusion as you got used to the sensation.

“Relax, or you won’t be able to take either of us” Crosshair instructed, resting a hand between your shoulder blades and pushing you further down into Wrecker’s chest.

A whine slipped out at the move, feeling pinned between them as they both began to move in tandem. Their pace matched each others, stretching you open on their fingers. As one pushed in, so did the other. Your breath was faltering at every thrust and it was all you could do to relax around them.

“That’s it mesh’la, stay nice and relaxed for us. Got to get you nice and ready for us” Wrecker encouraged, as your hips bucked down onto their hands. “Take a deep breath for me” Wrecker instructed, kissing your cheek.

You did as he said, taking in a deep lungful before it caught in your throat as both of them pushed another finger into you. The stretch from both holes had you moaning, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of them sliding in and out of you.

“Fuck! Wreck! Cross!” you cried, clenching down around them.

“Relax, kitten!” Cross growled, pinching your ass and spreading it open for him to see just how well you were taking his fingers. “Such a greedy girl!” he murmured, watching as your hole seemed to clutch and swallow his fingers with every press inside.

“Cross!” you whined, burying your face into Wrecker’s chest at the sniper’s words.

“Shh, that’s a good thing, mesh’la. Ya know you’re so pretty, right? Our pretty girl” the demolition expert praised, a chuckle rumbling through his chest at how you were hiding into him.

Even through the heat burning across your face, you nodded. Because he was right. You were theirs, and they were yours.

“Gonna have to make her cum again to take us. She’s so tight, keeps sucking us in like the greedy slut she is” Cross growled, nipping at your thigh and feeling the way you tightened around his fingers at that.

“Oh yeah! That sounds good to me!” Wrecker laughed, nodding at Crosshair. This time they slid three fingers inside of you, and you let out a cry as the way they both stretched you open, making sure that they were teasing you and getting you ready for them at the same time. Wrecker passed his thumb over your clit, beaming at the way you shivered around them. “Ohh, someone’s a little sensitive!” he boomed out, beginning to draw circles around your clit as he thrust his fingers sharply up into you.

Panting, you clutched onto his shoulders as the boys began to increase their pace, twisting and shoving inside of you without any rhythm. It left you wanting more and you couldn’t help but begin to buck into their hands, writhing against them as they curled their fingers, rubbing deliciously along your walls.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, the heat rising in you as the coil inside of you got tighter and tighter at every brush of Wrecker’s thumb against your clit and twist from Crosshair’s lithe fingers.

“That’s it mesh’la, ride our fingers. Look so good, taking us so well” Wrecker murmured in awe, his mouth coming to layer your jaw and cheeks with kisses.

With every rocking movement of your hips, you could feel your release getting closer and closer. And when Wrecker curled his fingers just right, rubbing that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you couldn’t help but fall over the edge. Your vision whited out as you shook around them, nails digging into whatever and whoever you could as you clutched onto them. Their names fell from your mouth in a loud cry as they continued to help you through the powerful orgasm that left you trembling.

“Hmm, good girl, that’s it. Doing so well for us, kitten” Cross’ raspy voice filled your ears as you were leant back into his chest. He withdrew his fingers from you, keeping his arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn’t fall back down onto Wrecker. He littered soft, open mouthed kisses along your neck, soothing you back into the land of the living after your release.

Sighing, you sunk back into the warm safety of his arms, letting your mind float at how incredible you felt. You felt boneless almost, and it was an effort to return some of Cross’ kisses as you clutched onto his forearms to keep you steady.

“Pass me the lube” Wrecker grunted, tapping Cross’ knee. As soon as the sniper passed it over, Wrecker was lubing up his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding his cock to your entrance. You were still pressing kisses to Crosshair’s jaw, nipping at the hinge before littering his faces with kisses. So when they both held you over Wrecker’s cock, you couldn’t help but moan, trying to push yourself down onto the incredible length.

“Ready, mesh’la?” he asked, hands coming to your waist and thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips.

“Yeah… yeah I want you” you breathed, and slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock. It was a bit of a stretch, but the way they had opened you up and the 2 orgasms had relaxed you enough so you could take him at a steady pace. When your hips met his, it was all you could do to muffle your whines, feeling so full.

Wrecker buried his head into your neck, quieting his own groans as he felt you clench around him. It was almost like you were strangling his cock. Breathing deep, he tried to take apart a proton torpedo in his mind to stop this from being over way too soon.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Wrecker!” you cried, eyes squeezed shut as you got used to his size. Wrecker was a large man, a gentle giant, but his cock would put most men to shame. It was thicker and longer than any you had ever taken. And Crosshair normally fucked you open first to prepare you for taking Wrecker, but now, oh now you couldn’t help but feel him everywhere.

You looked down, surprised that you weren’t bulging from the way that he was pressing inside of you. You were stuffed full of him, even as he remained still. It felt like your body was just melding around him, your inner walls having no choice but to fit snugly around his hard length.

“Shh, good girl. Relax for me, need you to relax” Wrecker groaned, bringing you back down so he could press his lips against yours, swallowing your little whines and punched out noises.

It was a lot easier said than done, but you tried to force your muscles and body to relax against him, helped by the soothing strokes of Crosshair up and down your back and the way that you could feel Wrecker holding you to him.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Stay relaxed, sweetheart. Need to make sure Cross can fit” Wrecker reminded, hands stroking through your hair as he could feel your muscles fluttering around him as his cock pressed into all those good spots inside of you.

“’Kay, please move… want to feel you” you begged, biting your lip as you began to get restless atop of him.

“Thought you’d be able to feel him well enough, kitten” Cross smirked, watching the way his brother’s cock pulled out before sinking back into you. Your punched out little cry at the first thrust had his cock twitching and he had to press a hand to the base for a second to get himself back under control.

“So full! Feel him everywhere. Oh! Wrecker!” you cried, nodding your head in agreement to his smokey voice as you buried your head into Wrecker’s neck, panting as he pushed in slowly, making you feel every inch of his thick and delicious cock inside of your pussy. Every vein and bump could be felt as he entered you once more.

You were so distracted with Wrecker and how he filled you, stretching you out around his massive cock that you jolted a little when you felt the head of Crosshair’s cock nudge at your back entrance.

“Shh, kitten, relax for me” Crosshair murmured against your skin, pressing open mouth kisses along your back and shoulders as he felt you jump.

“’M okay” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you pressed back against him. However, two large hands kept your still, and you turned to pout at Wrecker beneath you.

“Sorry mesh’la, but you go at our pace. Don’t want you hurtin’ yourself!” Wrecker shook his head, sending you a small soft smile in apology. He knew how much you wanted to take Cross, but it was best if he was the one to guide his cock into your ass.

Chuckling at your whine of disapproval, Crosshair slowly pressed inside of you, mindful of how full you already were with Wrecker, and how long it had been since you had last done this together. He inched himself inside of you, paying close attention to your face and the small noises of pleasure you were letting out.

“Good girl.”

You didn’t know which one of them said it, but it made you grin at the praise. You would be their good girl, you’d take them both and let them fill you up. With every inch of Crosshair pushing into you, it felt like you were going to combust. Every nerve was firing off and you could barely breathe from the stimulation of both Wrecker and Crosshair inside of you. Your nails dug into Wrecker’s chest as you tried to take in a few deep breaths to gain some control over yourself.

When Cross was all the way inside, all three of you let out groans and grunts. Both troopers could feel the other inside, parted by a thin bit of tissue but it felt so good to be inside your wet, delicious heat. You, however, could only cling onto them as you tried to catch your breath. If you thought you felt full with just Wrecker pressed deep inside of you, adding Crosshair made you feel like you would burst. They filled you up so much it felt like there was barely enough room for you to breathe.

“Kriff, can feel how tight you are! Gotta relax sweetheart, here, lie down on me” Wrecker grunted, guiding you back down onto his chest. His large hands crept up to your head, cradling you against him.

The new position had you feeling them both from a different angle and it was all you could do to bury the noise you let out into Wrecker’s chest.

“Can we move now, kitten?” Crosshair breathed quietly into your ear, warm breath caressing you. His hands were sliding up and down your sides, soothing you into a more relaxed position. He wouldn’t move until you told him it was okay.

“Hmm, please!” you sighed, one hand sliding behind you to reach for Crosshair. Be it his hand, or his hip, or his leg, you didn’t care. You just wanted to hold him.

Crosshair seemed to understand what you wanted, as his hand threaded with yours and he held it against your hip, squeezing your fingers between his. Slowly and with great care, he pulled his cock out, watching as your hole clutched onto him, almost strangling him on the way out. Letting you take a breath in, he thrust back in with one smooth move.

You cried out, other hand coming up to clutch at Wrecker’s shoulder. It seemed to be the act that Wrecker was looking for because he began to move once more two. The pair of them started a steady and slow rhythm, getting you used to both of them being inside of you once more. They always kept you filled, when one pulled out, the other would thrust back in, making you keen and push back against them.

Wrecker’s warm hand came to cup your cheek, pulling your face up to meet his in an open mouthed kiss. It was messy and uncoordinated, your teeth clashing and lips sliding off one another but it didn’t matter. Just being pressed against him, breathing the same air was enough as your gentle giant panted against your lips.

“That’s it mesh’la, doing so well! Look how brilliant you are, taking us like this” Wrecker beamed, pulled away to nuzzle at your jaw. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin, bucking his hips up to you a little faster.

“Oh!” you gasped, biting your lip as you tilted your head back so he could litter your neck with more bruises and marks from him and Cross.

Not one to be left out, Crosshair began to match his brother’s pace, hips slamming into yours at a much more harder pace than when they first began. It had you shouting out their names, rocking your hips and pushing back as much as you could with how you were trapped in between them. You could only take what they were giving you.

Slender arms slid in between you before you were hauled up against Crosshair’s chest, hips pistoning into yours. The new angle of both of them had you crying out, eyes slamming shut as Wrecker thrust up into you, rubbing that spot deliciously on every buck of his hips. It also had the added benefit of Cross sinking deeper into you, short jabs resulting in you digging your nails into the soft skin on the back of his neck as you wrapped your hand around him.

“Kriff! Fucking hell!” you cursed, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten with each thrust into you. It felt amazing having them inside of you, like their cocks were carving out a space for themselves inside your fluttering channels. Nobody else could make you feel this good, nobody could even dream of it, not when you were so utterly in love with Wrecker and Crosshair.

“You close, mesh’la? Can feel you squeezing me” Wrecker grinned, hand sliding in between your bodies to gentle glide over your clit.

It had you gritting your teeth, legs twitching at the surge of pleasure the simple touch brought forth. Sparks flew from the little nub as Wrecker began to rub at it.

“Yeah she is! Kriff! Should feel how tight it is back here” Cross groaned, nipping at your ear as he slammed into you.

“Cross!” you whined, turning to press kisses along his jaw, his cheeks, wherever your lips could meet his skin.

“Think we should let her cum?” Wrecker chuckled, fingers picking up their pace as he circled your clit.

Crosshair hummed in deliberation, drawing it out just to tease you. He could feel just how close you were to cumming. Your ass was squeezing his cock like you refused to let it go, and no doubt the same was happening to your muscles as they fluttered around Wrecker. Sliding your sweat-slicked skin together, he bit softly onto your shoulder.

“I think we should” he hummed, hearing the moan of relief that you let out at them not teasing you and edging you this time. “Gonna scream for us, kitten?” he smirked, hand sliding up the valley of your chest and squeezing one of your breasts into his hands. He gave it a harsh squeeze, making you squeal and clench around the lengths slamming inside of you.

“Fuck! Yes, yes I will… just-just please let me cum!” you begged, hoping they wouldn’t draw this out. You were on the edge, you could feel just how wet and slick you were around Wrecker, feel the way you were rocking against Cross. It wouldn’t take much to throw you over the edge.

“You beg so sweetly, kitten, but I think you can do better than that” the sniper ordered, tweaking your nipple.

It was like fire shot through your body and you moaned, back arching and pressing your chest into his teasing hands. “Please, please! Need you both! Need you to make me cum, please. Want you to fill me up” you cried, clutching onto your troopers and hoping your words was enough. You were so close. They had to let you cum.

“I think that’s good enough!” Wrecker growled, dragging his cock along the spot inside of you that had you screaming out his name.

Your thighs quivered as you came around them both, release flooding through you as you shook as you fell over the edge. It was like liquid ecstasy was coursing through your brains as every nerve fired off at once.

“WRECK! CROSS!”

Crosshair growled at the way his name sounded falling from your lips. He couldn’t help but chase his own release now, giving you a few short jabs into your quivering hole before he flooded your ass with his cum. That had you letting out a little moan of pleasure as you felt warmth fill you.

Wrecker felt the fluttering of your walls around him, felt the way his cock was drenched with your release and couldn’t hold back no more. He gave another long, deep thrust before he stilled, shooting his load into your entrance and letting out a cry of your own name.

It was lucky he was so strong, because both you and Crosshair collapsed against him, all of them exhausted and boneless. He wrapped his arms around his lover and brother as much as he could, content to just stay there for a while before they would have to move.

When you had caught your breath, you pulled both of them into long, passionate kisses revelling in being able to feel the weight of them against you in post-orgasmic bliss.

“We are never waiting this long again” you insisted, grinning playfully at your troopers. You grimaced as Cross pulled his softening cock from you and Wrecker did the same, lifting you off him.

“Agreed, I’m willing to give the others a favour if they keep the kid away for an hour or two” Cross nodded, reaching for some wipes that he had left by the side in preparation for clean up. He helped guide you in between his and Wrecker’s body, taking in your body and the marks that was scattered on it by him and his brother.

“Well, I for one love having Omega around” Wrecker frowned, and you couldn’t help but rush to reassure him.

“We do too love, but I’m also glad when your brothers take her for a bit. That way we can be together. But I’m sure she’ll be home soon. So we need to be cleaning up this ship” you assured before encouraging them up. As Crosshair finished cleaning you up though, you couldn’t help but lean forward and give him a kiss. “Thank you sweetheart, now lets get going!” you ordered, stroking his cheek.

“ARGH! Do we have to?” Wrecker grumbled, grabbing a couple of wipes to clean himself up.

“Yes, unless you want to explain to Omega why our clothes are scattered everywhere and Hunter looks like he’s ready to faint every time we walk past him?” you said sweetly, amused at the thought of Hunter’s face when he came back. But it wasn’t fair on the Sergeant and the rest of his brothers. So you would do all that you could to minimise the smell when Hunter got back.

“Good point! Come on Wrecker! Get moving!” Crosshair snapped, flinging a shirt at his brother’s head.

Shaking your head at the bickering that move started, you headed to the ramp, pressing the button to open it and air out the ship. It was a start, and you quickly got to work cleaning the ship with your lovers.

By the time the others had gotten back, you were all freshly showered and dressed, the sheets had been laundered and you were currently reading a book on Wrecker’s bunk. You were leaning against the demolition expert’s chest while Cross was resting his head on your thigh, taking a nap.

“Hey! How was it? Did you get everything?” you greeted, running your fingers through Cross’ grey hair to wake him up slowly so he wouldn’t be disturbed by the others coming back.

Omega ran up to you, holding out a couple of boxes. She passed one to Wrecker before passing another one to you. Beaming, she stood by the side of the bunk, waiting for your reactions. You opened your gift and blinked in surprise.

“Kashyyyk nuts? You got them?” you breathed, surprised at how she had been able to manage to do that. It shouldn’t have been possible to get them on this planet.

“Yeah, Echo said that I might not be able to get them at the market, but Tech showed me which ones were from Kashyyyk! Apparently they had never imported them before and this was their first time! Can you believe it?” Omega explained, accepting one from the box as you offered her one.

Wrecker chuckled behind you, chest shaking beneath your back. Cross snorted, rubbing his face into your thigh for a moment before he pushed himself up to look over at you, smirk in place.

“No, I can’t believe it. Thank you Omega, you’re a wonder” you smiled, bringing the girl into your arms and giving her a grateful hug.

“Yeah! Our girl’s full of surprises!” Echo remarked, ruffling the younger clones hair as he passed.

“So is ours” Cross murmured lowly for Wrecker and I to hear. He pecked your cheek before getting off the bunk to go help the others.

“So, tell us all about the market?” Wrecker requested, squeezing both of his favourite girls into his loving arms. He shared a smile with you as you both began to listen to Omega’s retelling of the supply run.

#wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #wrecker bad batch #clone trooper wrecker #tbb #star wars x reader #sw tcw #tcw #star wars tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #kinktober 2024

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sisterdivinium · 1 year ago

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It might appear somewhat essentialist at first if used to examine real, breathing human beings, but Carol Gilligan's "Images of relationship" can provide an interesting framework with which to understand certain facets of Warrior Nun. More so when coupled with David Hayter's comment on how the show's "women are always right and the men are always kind of screwing things up," for her article, dealing in systems of moral understanding, might point us towards the reasons behind this openly admitted narrative "bias".

In a nutshell, Gilligan observes the different strategies by which boys and girls seem to resolve moral dilemmas, deviating from traditional interpretation. This is because, Rosemarie Tong reminds us, "Gilligan challenged the Freudian notion that men have a well-developed sense of justice — a sense of morality — whereas women do not". By looking beyond these hurried and prejudiced conclusions of (male) researchers before her, she "argued instead that men and women have different conceptions of morality, each equally coherent and developed and equally valid". She bases this idea, then, on those resolution strategies that were found to consist of, for boys, a tendency to see the moral dilemma as "sort of like a math problem with humans", while the girls were more inclined to view it as "a narrative of relationships that extends over time" — so if boys seemed "logical" through their impersonal abstraction of a situation, invoking concepts similar to those of law and justice, the girls were more likely to follow a different, "personal" logic, through "an awareness of the connections between people", identifying "a web of relationships that is sustained by a process of communication".

Where this all intersects with Warrior Nun is that the male and female characters seemingly display these same propensities of moral judgment.

If we start with the men, we will quickly see that they are all caught up in their own abstract systems, prone to grand ideas and concepts while detached from the world and the valuable human bonds that make it up, just as Vincent sees the quest for a hypothetical "better world" as more important than the life of a very real, concrete woman he claims to love. Mr. Hayter himself, in the same interview conceded during the OCS Conclave of June 3rd, mentions how father Vincent and cardinal William are irresistibly attracted to the notion of power: "here's this guy who can do godlike things, so why wouldn't I follow him, you know? ... We gotta have some power ... that we bow down to or whatever". This is how he transmits a glimpse into these characters' psyches and we could safely argue that this behaviour and thought pattern extends to the rest of the men in the show, including Duretti, Kristian, Adriel and even Michael Salvius.

Whether these men mask their fascination with power through other words or not, theirs is a cause which easily calls for violence and a willingness to kill or die for it.

Earthly power inspires Francesco Duretti to have the current halo bearer killed if need be as he attempts to consolidate his bid on the Holy See; Kristian Schaefer would sacrifice the world as readily as he does his old acquaintance Duretti in the name of this power that lay entombed for a thousand years but communicated through the voice of a sick little boy; cardinal William Foster is inebriated with the idea of being a new god's right-hand man, so he brutally slaughters his colleagues to buy himself a place at Adriel's table, even if that means getting no more than his master's crumbs; father Vincent is so eager to find someone or something powerful enough to take the burden of "his darkness" from atop his shoulders that he convinces himself of there being divinity in the parlour tricks of a manipulator, killing a symbolic daughter in this trickster's name; Adriel would bleed humanity dry without a second thought all the while claiming to save it in draining its belief for the benefit of his own megalomania; finally, Michael subjects himself to the will and authority of Reya, whom he claims to be "unimaginably powerful".

Of course the women of Warrior Nun are mostly all ready to lay down their lives for their own cause as well, or else we wouldn't have their iconic motto of "in this life or the next", but the motivation behind it is what sets the men and the women wholly apart here. If the former are intoxicated by the concept of power, the latter are embedded in a family of sorts, in a dense network of relationships that they can identify with some ease, and which informs their decisions and actions more than just dogma or theory.

Most if not all of the female characters struggle between two different stances: one is an offshoot of the males' abstract organisation of the world, while the other is a more "hands-on", "organic" order; between "duty", or what is said to be their duty, and that which their own perception reveals, their "personal" logic by which the "self [is] delineated through connection", seeing one another as actual sisters instead of mere pieces upon the church's chess board. We see the dilemma take place within Beatrice, Camila, Lilith and Mother Superion, who are all faced with a choice of sticking to their place in a well-defined (artificial, abstract) structure or valuing instead the human connections all around them and that stand in opposition to this man-made categorisation of life.

And, one by one, they take the side of that one character who seems to have kept her lucidity and fidelity to her own understanding through it all: Mary.

Mary never lost sight of her priorities. Her focus on friends and sisters illustrates Gilligan's point rather well when she is the only one who insists on understanding what happened to Shannon all the while the OCS is made to concentrate its energies on the halo instead. Of course it blinds her to Vincent's betrayal, but that is his fault more than it is hers; her moral compass points at the right direction for the most part.

And, each at their turn, the nuns adopt (rediscover?) this same mode of thought. Beatrice's efficient, obedient soldier façade crumbles beneath the urgency of siding with Mary rather than following the arbitrary decision of some man invested with the power of an institution; Camila outright admits wanting to be kicked out of the church just so she can stay near to the people who represent her allegiance more than liturgy itself ever could; Lilith literally travels to hell and back to rejoin her sisters, regardless of how her subsequent mutations upset her loyalty later on; Mother Superion sheds her prominence within hierarchy, risking it all, by standing with "her girls". Even Ava, an outsider with no ties to the church but who so desperately wanted to "live", trades a vague, abstract notion of what "life" and "freedom" entail for the very definite, tangible reality of the family this group of women becomes for her.

Another outsider equally stuck between "bodiless" logic and the reality of human connection around her, Jillian Salvius, too, falters before choosing her side when faced with these two points of view: that of "pure" reasoning and that informed by the consciousness of surrounding relationships. Her quest for "knowledge" is not sufficiently strong so as to potentially sacrifice someone in her inner circle. Season one has her holding young Michael back from stepping into the machine she herself had created for this purpose when concern overrides calculation; season two gives us a powerful scene where she is tempted by Kristian into joining Adriel's ranks as he claims she is already a part of it all and dangles before her the forbidden fruit of the world's hidden laws, the elusive answers the scientist in her has always searched for. He tries to hook her in by simultaneously appealing to her intellectual interests as well as her understanding of the web of relationships when he claims she is another link in the chain that leads to Adriel...

And Jillian refuses him.

Kristian would never convince her of already being within this specific network of relationships because he was the one to rupture it first.

To these women, unlike the men, it's not about ideas — or, rather, about rationalisations, given how their interpretation of what is logical or reasonable is more than open to inquiry. To these women, it's not about loud, large but empty words vulnerable to tampering and shifting meanings; it's not about power.

It's about people.

Rosemarie Tong says "Gilligan believed that women's moral development takes her from an egocentric, or selfish position to an overly altruistic, or self-sacrificing position and, finally, to a self-with-others position in which her interests count as much as anyone else's" — and this seems to describe perfectly well the inner trajectory that these characters follow. We see traces of the selfish in Ava, Jillian and Lilith, as well as of the self-sacrificial in Beatrice or Suzanne, but they all appear to converge on this path towards constructing a "self-with-others" whereby they are all individuals inextricably tied to one another — and aware of it, acting accordingly. A sisterhood, a direct sisterhood that supersedes the very church structure which facilitated it to begin with.

Of course Warrior Nun is too intricately built to allow itself to be so smoothly explained; if Carol Gilligan provides a framework that helps us to identify what is so positive and deserving of attention in the female characters' attitudes as championed by one of the show's own writers, it also falls short on other points and her propositions can then be questioned by the show in turn.

We need but a few examples.

If Jillian Salvius values the significance of association with others more than she does a cold, distant overview of things (the latter being the stereotypical scientist attitude), then how is it that she seems so prepared to immolate Lilith at the altar of curiosity? One relationship takes precedence over the other, yes, and we cannot compare the love for a son to whatever affection or respect there is for anyone else, but the nature of Jillian's experimentation with Lilith, had it gone forward, is quite brutal even for the sake of a debilitated child. Jillian's stance is understandable, but this "self-with-others" thing isn't as clear-cut as we might think.

Lilith herself oscillates between those three positions of moral development described by Gilligan, going from selfish to "connected" by the end of season one, but ending season two in almost complete isolation, with only a hint towards her previous place in a web of sisters as she aids Beatrice in getting Ava to the ark... Shortly after having dug her claws into the warrior nun's flesh.

But perhaps Lilith is a more special case than we realise at first. Our early childhood experiences define much of our character, after all, and the words we use have a bearing on how we view and reconstruct the world in our discourse; Lilith's understanding of the relationships between people, of "family", probably doesn't reflect that of her sisters given the ill-treatment she must have received from her relatives. If one's primary web of relationships is so tainted, what model can it ultimately provide for later connections? Just as Ava's mistrust for nuns is justified by her previous, negative experiences at their hands, Lilith's experience with intimate or familial bonds surely affects her maturing sense of being linked to other people. If family is a positive value for Ava and Mary, for example, it cannot boast of the same meaning for Lilith, whose family is a source of stress and misunderstanding rather than a harbour of love.

The treatment she has received might have corrupted her grounds for moral judgment by communal lenses in a way Beatrice's rejection by her own parents did not, leaving Lilith adrift as long as she does not somehow attempt to re-signify what human connection ultimately means. To Lilith, as of yet, the web of relationships she necessarily belongs to mirrors the initial disposition she was brought up in, as a hierarchical structure where every link is tainted by the stench of power and domination — the OCS is a family much like her own... Where orders are given and meant to be obeyed.

We cannot know for certain what it is that she sees or feels after Adriel "unlocks" her wraith-vision, but there is something peculiar in how, reflecting this idea of abstract versus material views of the world we've been discussing, Lilith claims to see reality when she casts her eyes upon the nebulous demonic figures only few others can see. In her opposing traits are mixed, delivering a strange synthesis we cannot quite make out yet and making Lilith a hybrid both in body and in thought.

And while this fact alone seems to interrogate David Hayter's comment about how the women in the show tend to be correct, we can further complicate the statement by glancing at Reya.

There is frightfully little we know of her, but a lot of the information we do have is conflicting: Reya is unimaginably powerful, yet needs to manipulate two young people to do her bidding for her in fighting Adriel; her predictions are "meant to be" yet do not manifest in the way they were said to; she is described as some sort of benefactor by taking Michael in, but she sticks a bomb into his chest and the very sight of her sends him reeling; she is, as far as we know, a woman, yet she might very well be at odds with the other women we see in the show. How, then, are the women always right?

Perhaps they are so when following their conscience as guided by their understanding of community and sisterhood, when belonging to a network of relationships and acknowledging it. That would exclude a murderous sister Frances, a confused Lilith and a mysterious, distant Reya from the definition.

In this sense, then, even if the characters are not static or simple, even if they waver between the moral positions suggested by Gilligan and which do not seem all that definite to begin with, her text is still enlightening as relates to why the women are, "word of God", the moral touchstone of Warrior Nun.

Having been robbed of further development of the story and universe for the time being, however, precisely because of an abstracting, impersonal corporate logic that sees only numbers where there should be people and the wonderful effect this show has had on them, there is only so much we can conjecture on this subject...

#warrior nun #analysis and similar #exercises in observation #i should tag all of the characters since they're all more or less discussed but i am too lazy for that sorry #i can't explain why i took so long to write this it's been in my essay list forever. then the david hayter revelations hit #and i knew i had to finally write it strengthened by his words #it's fair to tell you i have about a trillion reservations about psychoanalysis and psychology and whatever #but you also know by now i'm a pragmatist. if the theory helps me explain something i will use it.#then again i suppose i should have read gilligan's entire book lol but my eyes wouldn't have survived #i had read her text in january of last year i think because it's in a collection of feminist texts i own in print #so yeah. grain of salt etc #i'm not sure i've properly exposed what i wanted to say but i've had enough of this text and i'm releasing it into the world lol

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