#(and by that i do not only mean a handsome billionaire with insane shoulders)

[anika-ann]

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.  

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good.  If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and  yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.  

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

Why?

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels…  it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

#fanfiction #mcu #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rgers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america x you #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfiction #captain america fanfic #avengers #tony stark #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #marvel #in the spotlight #anika ann

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words 

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words 

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list. 

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words 

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list. 

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words 

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words 

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words 

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words 

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words 

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words 

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words 

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words 

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words 

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words 

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words 

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words 

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words 

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words 

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words 

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words 

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words 

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words 

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words 

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words 

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words 

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words 

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words 

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words 

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words 

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

[olicitysecretsanta]

Love In An Elevator

For: Mirka @kuningatarmirka by @jennonthewire

Love In An Elevator

Another way Oliver and Felicity could have met, involving elevators and mistaken identity. 

“Hi. I’m glad you could finally make it.” 

One year earlier…

Felicity Smoak is having the kind of day that makes a person wish they’d never gotten out of bed. Overqualified for the grunt work she slogs through in IT at Merlyn Global, answering to a boss who’s so incompetent she can’t fathom how he even graduated college, and being the only woman in her entire department leaves her feeling less than stellar most days. But today is particularly awful, so much so that she grabbed her purse and walked out of her cubicle with no plans to return — which is how she now finds herself alone in the elevator at three twenty in the afternoon, several hours before she would normally clock out. 

Leaning back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, she closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply. Usually when she pictures abruptly quitting her job, it’s on the heels of telling off her boss and maybe programming his ringtone to elephant farts. She might still do that, actually.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the elevator has stopped until a man steps in. He’s tall with broad shoulders snuggled into an impeccably fitted suit. She’s trying not to stare but it just can’t be helped. He flashes a polite smile then turns to face the door, and it’s a moment before she can tear her gaze away. He’s unfairly handsome. It’s stupid, really. No one should be that good-looking, and yet here he is. 

“I love you.” 

Did she just hear him right? Who tells random strangers they love them? Maybe he said ‘I love your shoes’ because her panda flats are really adorable or ‘I love ewes’ because he’s a big fan of sheep. Or what if this is some kind of time travel thing and he’s her husband from the future come back to replay their meet-cute? If she’s learned anything from years of Doctor Who watching, it’s that time is wibbly wobbly and anything is possible.

Except that this isn’t a TV show and she hasn’t said anything back, which feels rude? Maybe he’s just a guy who wants to spread happiness around. There’s nothing wrong with that. 

“I love you, too.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she watches in utter horror as his back stiffens.

He turns to her slowly, lips pursed and eyebrows raised to the ceiling. She raises her hand in a little wave and tries to smile, but she stops midair when he also raises his hand and points to his ear.

And the Bluetooth he’s wearing.

Because he’s on the phone.

And not talking to her.

If the ground opened up and she fell through to another dimension, one where she hadn’t just told a complete stranger on an elevator who’s talking on the phone that she loves him, that’d be great.

When the elevator stops an eternity later, she’s out the door and through the lobby in a flash. She doesn’t even take a breath until she’s out on the sidewalk. Although now she’s unsure what to do as her car is in the parking garage, which is the level where she meant to get off but didn’t?, meaning she likely exited on the level Elevator Man chose, which means he could be around here somewhere.

Frack.

“Hi. I’m Oliver Queen.” The voice is smooth and soothing, and of course, belongs to Elevator Man. He’s likely trying to not startle the weirdo who just emotionally accosted him, and is now staring at him bug-eyed as if he’s a figment of her imagination. And maybe he is? Likely not, as the universe isn’t that kind to her today. Or ever, really.

Wait. Oliver Queen as in… Queen Consolidated. As in the C-E-fracking-O of Queen Consolidated! Frack, frack, double frack! Of course he’s Oliver Queen because her day literally could not get any worse. 

“As I recall, you’re the one who told me you loved me. Can I really be all that bad?” Oliver Queen is standing in front of her, smiling. 

Felicity closes her eyes tightly, realizing she’s just said all of that out loud and wishing she could teleport to anywhere but here. 

“Yeah, you did.” Is he laughing at her?

“Are you laughing at me?” She jabs a finger into his chest. “Because listen, mister. I was just trying to not be rude. When someone says ‘I love you,’ the most obvious answer is ‘I love you, too.’ And frankly, I’ve had a really terrible day so sue me if my brain wasn’t exactly thinking clearly enough to contain my mouth.”

“I’m sorry,” he atones.

“Actually, don’t sue me. Please. I think I just quit my job and I can’t really afford attorney fees at the moment.” 

She doesn’t realize he’s removed her finger from his chest and is holding her hand in a light grip until he says, “How about we start again? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen. And you are?”

“Felicity,” she replies, looking down at their clasped hands. Oliver moves to shake hers, “Smoak. Felicity Smoak. It’s nice to meet you.”

Oliver releases her hand with an easy smile. “Not so bad, right?” 

“No, not so bad,” she teases back.

She immediately misses the feeling of his palm in hers, which is insane because he’s a complete stranger she just met and is also the best friend-slash-competitive rival of her boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s son, Tommy Merlyn. Well, maybe ex-bosses now. 

“Hmm?” She’s broken from her thoughts by his hand waving in front of her face.

“I asked if you wanted to get a cup of coffee. It seems like you could use one.” There’s that easy smile again. 

She should say no. After all, she basically just quit her job and should get home to start planning her next steps. Rent doesn’t exactly pay itself. 

But instead she surprises herself yet again. “Yes. Coffee would be nice.”

  Felicity can’t say she’d ever imagined sitting across from Oliver Queen while drinking coffee, or that she’s thought about Oliver Queen that much at all. 

But that’s exactly what’s been happening for the past three hours, as they’ve talked and shared and laughed. Oliver is an incredibly good listener. He never interrupts, just nods and asks thoughtful questions when she’s said something he doesn’t quite get.

“So, if working for someone else is ‘literally killing your soul,’ then why not work for yourself?” 

“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it, Oliver. But starting your own company isn’t that easy. I have a small amount of savings that would probably cover the cost of branding and maybe advertising, but I’d be my only employee and my office space” — she air quotes — “would be the spare bedroom in my townhouse that you can’t currently see the floor of because it’s covered in spare computer parts.” 

“People have started successful businesses with less, Felicity.” 

She doesn’t think he understands what a risk it would be if it didn’t pan out, and tells him so.

“I don’t want to be offensive here, Oliver, but you’re a literal billionaire. You can afford to take risks with your money. I can’t.” Sitting back in her seat, she sips her second cup of coffee as a break in the conversation.

“Felicity.” Oliver leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “I may not understand what it’s like to have money issues.” She snorts at that and he can’t help but smile a little. She’s charming him and she doesn’t even know it. “But I do know, very well, what it’s like to be in a job you hate — how much it takes from you, how hard you have to work just to keep your head above water.” 

Placing her mug down carefully, she regards Oliver with a shrewd look that lets him know she’s figured out more than he may have been meaning to tell her.

“You don’t like being a CEO?” 

It’s his turn to sip his coffee mindfully, deciding what feels comfortable to tell a stranger that also technically still works for your main competitor. 

 “I feel like I can trust you, Felicity.” 

 “What can I say? I just have one of those faces.” She’s hoping to lighten the sudden heaviness that’s taken over their conversation, but realizes quickly when his face falls that she’s said the wrong thing.

“Hey. You can trust me.” Felicity stretches her arm out across the table and turns her palm up, encouraging him. He takes her hand, and she squeezes softly. 

“Thank you. And not really, no.” He shakes his head. “When my father died, there was just this assumption that I’d take over the company. My sister is still too young, although I think she’d make a much better CEO than I do. She’s ruthless,” he quips. Felicity smiles a little, and nods for him to continue.

“I’m not cut out for it. My dad used to bring me to QC when I was a kid. He’d sit me in his office, and I’d pretend to sign documents and give orders. It was some of the only time I got to spend with him. The company kept him away, and then so did his extracurriculars.” Oliver frowns heavily at that, and Felicity doesn’t have to ask to know exactly what he means.

“I don’t want to be my dad, Felicity. He worked himself to death, and when he was home, it wasn’t any better. My parents fought constantly, which was better than them not fighting because at least they weren’t ignoring each other completely.” He holds her hand a little tighter. “That’s not going to be me. But, the company needs someone to lead if for no other reason than to save the jobs of thousands of employees. I can’t make a different choice, not yet at least.” 

“Thank you for telling me that, Oliver. I know it can’t be easy to talk about.” 

He nods. “Easy with you, it seems.” The blush that creeps up her neck and onto her cheeks makes him smile. 

“I feel the same way, which is kind of weird, right? Seeing as we just met?” 

“I guess. Or… not.” He smiles and Felicity can’t help but smile back. “Felicity, would you like to go out to dinner with me?” “I don’t want to read too much into this, but are you asking me out on a date?” Her voice squeaks just a little. “Like an actual date? Like a date, date?” 

“Well, sure uh…” he stumbles. “The implication being with dinner that you’d uh…”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments,” she interrupts. 

Oliver smiles then and huffs out a laugh before his face turns serious. “Felicity, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

“What about your girlfriend?” 

He pauses, “my what?” 

“In the elevator earlier, you said ‘I love you’ to someone. I guess I just assumed   —” 

“Ah. That was my sister, Thea, on the phone earlier. She was trying to sweet talk me after her report card came in the mail. She’s seventeen and in danger of not graduating. I hired her a tutor, which she’s against.” He leans back in his chair, “but with those grades she’s out of options.” 

“You’re a good brother, Oliver. She may not appreciate what you’re doing for her now, but she’ll thank you later when she’s walking across that stage to get her diploma.” 

“I don’t need her thanks, but cooperation would be appreciated,” he laughs. “So, dinner?”

“Yes,” she nods, biting her lip to hold back the smile threatening to overtake her. 

  After her conversation with Oliver, Felicity goes home to crunch numbers and figure out just how she could make starting her own company work. She emails her resignation to Merlyn Global, and resists the urge to tell her boss exactly what she thinks of him, and then sets to registering her business name and applying for necessary licenses. Within a few days Smoak Tech is officially launched, from Felicity’s spare bedroom and with only one employee. But it’s everything, and she feels the universe is finally on her side.

She and Oliver talk regularly and still meet for coffee, at what’s now their usual place, more days than not, but they haven’t scheduled their date. If Felicity is honest with herself, the reason isn’t that she’s been too busy but rather that she’s purposefully avoiding the situation. 

Oliver is kind and patient. He seems to get her despite them having known each other for only a few weeks. She tries to joke with him about her abandonment issues, make light of the situation so she doesn’t seem as broken as she feels. But Oliver isn’t having it.

“You don’t have to be funny for me,” he promises.

She sighs heavily. He really does get her.

“When I was a girl, I hated myself. I thought I was broken. That no one could, or ever would, love me.” She turns away then, feeling tears prick her eyelids. “It’s the only way a child could grow up when their father abandons them.” 

Oliver is silent as she talks, but the space between them isn’t uncomfortable. He nods patiently, encouraging her.

“All I ever wanted to know was why, you know?” She swipes her fingers underneath her glasses hoping to save mascara from running down her face. “What was so wrong with me that he would leave?” “Felicity…”

“It’s okay, Oliver.” She smiles at him a little. “I don’t need you to make it better. I just wanted you to understand. I’ve already made a huge change in starting Smoak Tech and leaving a job that paid me, not to mention the health and dental benefits were excellent.” He chuckles at that and some of the tension leaves her body knowing he hears her. “I just… can’t start anything else new right now that I’d want to give my full attention to.” She leans over the table they’ve each come to think of as their spot and cups his cheek in one hand.  “And I know that whatever this is between us deserves my full attention. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us now. Do you understand?” 

He places his hand over hers, and leans into her palm just a little. 

“I do. We can wait,” he starts. “Oliver, I can’t ask you to do that —”  “Stop interrupting.” She folds her lips together and it earns her a smile. He removes her hand from his cheek, but doesn’t let go. 

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Let’s be friends. See where it goes.” He shrugs a little. “I like you, Felicity. I care about you. And I want you in my life. If you’re not ready for anything more than friendship that’s okay.” “What if I’m never ready?” she asks quietly. 

“Then I’ll be happy to be your friend.” He’s so matter-of-fact in his answer that Felicity can’t help but be wary. It can’t be that easy.

“Except it is,” he challenges. When she blinks, he adds, “Out loud again.” 

“Of course it was.” She rolls her head back and stares at the tin-lined ceiling. “I don’t want you to think I’m dangling maybes, Oliver.” 

“Hey. Look at me.” He continues when he has her attention, “You’re not dangling anything.”

“So, we’re friends?”

“We are.” His mouth quirks just a little in that way he has that lets her know he’s amused by her. Felicity nods in acceptance, still holding his hand. 

“Can we still go out for dinner, though? I’m really craving Italian.” 

  Over the course of a year, she and Oliver foster a friendship — one that becomes a cornerstone of her life in Starling. Building a start-up is exactly as hard as it sounds, some days even more so, and leaves her little time for herself let alone to nurture relationships. But Oliver is there anyway, supporting her from the sidelines. He reminds her to call her mother once a week, and cheerleads her into taking a weekend off to visit Barry and Iris: “They’re your best friends, Felicity, and you haven’t seen them in months. Smoak Tech might be an infant, but she can manage without her mom for two days. Trust me.” 

Whether it’s bringing homemade lasagna to her office after hours because he knows she’s still there — “You can’t tell me you’ve eaten anything other than coffee and M&Ms because I won’t believe you”  — or providing a listening ear at two in the afternoon or two in the morning — “You can always call me, Felicity” — he’s quickly become her best friend. 

He’s the only person in her life who doesn’t make her feel guilty when she reads texts and forgets to reply, or drops off the grid for days at a time lost in perfecting some minute aspect of a security code she’s creating for her client. Instead, he reminds her gently to shower and sleep; and on the days she’s particularly tired and weary, offers up a foot rub and her favorite glass of red wine. They spend Sunday mornings at Oliver’s apartment where he prepares them brunch — “I like cooking for you”— a passion of his that Felicity wholeheartedly appreciates given her own lack of culinary prowess. 

A few months after they meet, Thea is arrested for driving under the influence, and Felicity is the person Oliver calls to go with him to retrieve her from the police station in the middle of the night. She holds his hand on the car ride to the precinct, and reminds him to go easy on his sister — “She needs her big brother who loves her unconditionally more than a lecture right now.” 

When Thea is given probation and mandatory community service, Felicity offers her an intern position and makes it her personal mission to help Thea find things she’s good at to invest her time in that don’t include shopping or partying.

Of course, the side effect of Thea working closely with Felicity is the opportunity for her to keenly observe just how her brother and his favorite blonde genius interact. After watching them dance around each other for what feels like years, she takes it upon herself to point out to Felicity what their “friendship” — “Yes, I’m using air quotes appropriately” — looks like from the outside, while they share dim sum she’s ordered in for lunch. 

“You two know you’re dating, right? That’s what this is like, you’re not just friends.” 

“Of course we are, Thea. Your brother is my best friend,” Felicity counters. 

“Right, but you’re also in love with him.” Thea points a chopstick in Felicity’s direction, but in a subtle effort to avoid questioning is stuffing an entire dumpling in her mouth.

“It’s fine, you know. He’s in love with you, too,” she shrugs casually. “Anyone can see that… well, except maybe you.” 

“I’m not in love with your brother, Thea,” Felicity tries, forcing the words from her mouth in a way that even she can admit doesn’t sound the least bit convincing. “Really,” Thea deadpans. “And that’s why you’re six different shades of red right now and I wouldn’t even be able to make out what you just said with that second dumpling you just stuffed in your mouth if I didn’t eat lunch with you every day.” 

Felicity attempts a side eye that comes out more like a quizzical grimace.

“I’m going to take that look to mean you know I’m right.” Thea collects her take-out box and napkins before standing. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it right this minute but…” Thea closes her eyes for a moment and when she looks at her again Felicity is struck by the sincerity she sees in her expression. “You and my brother. I don’t know. You just work. You’re smart and capable and you challenge him. He’s grumpy and annoying —” “I like to call that brooding,” Felicity interrupts.

“Yeah, that,” she snorts. They both share an eye roll at Oliver’s expense. “But he’s also happy. You make him happy. He trusts you, and you know Ollie so you also know how hard that is for him. He’s taken on a lot since Dad died and left him the company. He never wanted that.” 

“I know he didn’t,” she mumbles quietly.  

“Right,” Thea nods, “which just makes my point for me. He confides in you, relies on your opinion. You help him see there’s more to life than QC and responsibility.  You’re his person, Felicity.” 

She turns to leave then, not waiting for a response, but stops in the doorway. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. Ollie and I didn’t grow up with a great example of what a relationship should be so I know love stories don’t always end up happy.“

“Yeah, line forms behind me on that one.” 

Thea’s smile is small but kind. “But we can’t let our parents’ mistakes influence our decisions, especially if it means we miss out on the possibility of love.” 

Felicity purses her lips together as she regards her young protégé. “Thea Queen, when did you get so wise?”

“It’s a gift,” she responds with a shrug of her shoulder. 

Felicity mulls over what Thea said on the drive home that night. Could Oliver be in love with her? She replays in her mind conversations she’s had with him over the past year. 

If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me.

Is that judgment I’m hearing? Pride. 

You’re not gonna lose me. 

Thank you for always being on my side. 

No other place I’d rather be.

I know who you are. You’re the man that I believe in.

Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy.

You’re remarkable. 

It’s been a quiet dream she’s kept to herself all these months: of him feeling the same and their making a go of it — being in love and happy, having a partner to rely on, their own team of two. She’s not wanted to say out loud that she’s in love with Oliver. It’s felt too risky, made her too vulnerable, too fragile. What if it didn’t work out? She’d lose her best friend and the man she loves all at once. But when she looks toward the future, she can’t imagine it without him.  He’s her always. 

And she just wants a chance to be his. 

He’d texted her earlier that day asking if she wanted to stop by for dinner, and she’d replied with a quick “We’ll see, hopefully yes,” but that was hours ago. Whatever he’d made for dinner was probably cold by now, and maybe he wouldn’t even be waiting for her still.

In what is the second impulsive life decision she’s made since meeting Oliver Queen, she makes a u-turn and rather than continuing on her drive home heads toward Oliver’s apartment. She doesn’t have a plan outside of tell Oliver you’re in love with him, which as far as plans go is not the best. Oliver deserves an entire monologue of all the ways she appreciates him, and just how much he means to her. 

You’ve opened up my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible.

You’re always saying how you want me to be happy. The thing is, as long as you’re in my life I am. 

I love every moment that I’m with you, no matter where we are.

We found ourselves in each other. 

Love is too small a word. 

The elevator ride to his floor feels like the longest of her life, and is incredibly ironic considering the last time she was in an elevator and told Oliver she loved him; back then, she was hoping the Hellmouth that’s very likely under Starling would open up and swallow her whole. 

What a difference a year can make.

It’s the ding signaling she’s reached the penthouse that brings her back to the present, and directly across from Oliver’s door. She’s been here hundreds of times and never felt nervous, but now she’s concentrating on her breathing and making sure she puts one foot in front of the other. 

“It’s now or never, Smoak,” she whispers to herself. “Go get your man.” 

She raises a shaky hand to knock, but pulls back at the last second to take another calming breath. Closing her eyes tight, she raps against the wood in quick succession. It takes Oliver less than thirty seconds to answer the door, yet it feels like an eternity as every scenario of how this could go horribly wrong flies through her head. 

“No,” she steels herself. “You deserve this.” 

When the door opens, Oliver stands in front of her wearing that soft Henley she loves to steal on movie nights when she’s cold and those jeans that give her not-so-platonic thoughts every time he turns around. But it’s his socks that get her. He’s wearing the pair she picked up for him in the airport gift shop after her last visit home. The words Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada are written across his toes, and she can’t help but grin. 

Even when she’s not here, she’s with him. The smile on his face mirrors hers, and she takes his outstretched hand to lead her inside. 

 “Hi. I’m glad you could finally make it.” 

#arrow #olicity #olicity secret santa #goodbye olicity #submission

[sassy-starker]

Talk Too Much

Caffeine, small talk

Wait out the plastic weather

When Tony Stark talked to Peter Parker for the first time, the first thought that ran through his head was, ‘He talks too much.’

The second thought that ran through his head was, ‘I should kiss him to make im shut up.’

The next thing he did was reel back.  He tuned out of the boy’s talking and retreated into his own mind, telling it to shut up and reminding himself that the boy was fifteen.  When he tuned back into the real world, he realized that the boy had stopped talking. He attempted to play it cool by jumping back in and sitting next to the boy on his tiny, twin-sized bed.  He didn’t know if Peter realized that he wasn’t paying attention, but the hero-worship in the boy’s coffee-brown eyes assured Tony that it was fine.

For the entirety of the Germany trip and the entire homecoming incident, Tony Stark had tried to repress all his feelings, pushing them to the back of his brain and yelling at his supposedly genius brain that the boy was too young to have some old, eccentric billionaire pursuing him.

Mmhmm, uh huh, discussing current events

I'll take my time

The month after the homecoming incident, Tony Stark gave into his mind and invited Peter Parker to the lab.

“This is insane!” Peter exclaimed as they entered the lab.  Tony had a friendly hand on his shoulder, guiding him inside.  He tried not to notice the absolute, unfiltered joy in the vigilante’s eyes, but he couldn’t help but notice.  He was too far gone.

“Go crazy, Pete,” he said, reluctantly pulling away from him.  The teen rushed around, not bothering to hide his excitement.  Tony sat down and began working on an emergency Spider Suit, but couldn’t find it in himself to focus.  He kept glancing up at Peter, a fuzzy feeling filling up his chest at how amazed he was by the lab.

Eventually, Peter caught sight of Tony watching him as he had been observing Dum-E and tried to mask his emotions, embarrassment filling up his coffee-colored eyes.  His face flushed, the pink traveling all the way up to his ears.  Tony decided at that moment that he wanted to make Peter blush like that every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled out, gaze falling to the floor.

“Don’t apologize,” Tony reassured him. “I’m glad a genius like you finds my tech interesting.”

Tony wasn’t lying about the genius part.  He had seen what Peter could do with some junk technology he found in the trash or some chemicals he got from a high school science lab.  The teen had made a computer and his web-shooters from practically nothing.  He knew he wouldn’t regret giving the vigilante full access to the lab.

Tony watched Peter perk up again, lips peaking into a grin and blush fading away but still slightly present on his milky white skin.  Peter started walking around again and Tony kept watching, not even trying to hide it anymore.  He thought he couldn’t be anymore gone with the boy when he spoke up.

Peter was looking at an unfinished project for Stark Industries.  It was a leg prosthetic that Tony was having trouble with; he couldn’t get the ankle to bend as well as a human ankle would.  He looked on as Peter observed it with focused eyes and a tongue stuck out in concentration.

Without looking up, Peter simply stated, “This would work better if the bolt for the ankle was lowered about a third of an inch. The ankle could bend at a more natural angle then.”

Tony got up, stool making a scraping noise against the ground as he did.  Peter looked up, eyes widening and face morphing into one of guilt.  Tony bent down to observe the prosthetic while thinking about what the boy had said.

“I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to say that out loud.  I’m probably wrong anyway.  I shouldn’t have tried to correct your tech.  I’m sorr-” Peter rambled on and on, but Tony cut him off.

“You’re right,” he said, turning his gaze to Peter and standing straight again.

“What?” Peter replied, voice small.

“You’re right. It would work better if the bolt were lowered.  You solved the problem I’ve been working on for a month and a half in a minute and a half.  You’re a genius.”

Peter flushed pink at the praise from Tony.

Yeah, Tony was gone.

I'm not the forward thinker

You read my mind

On his sixteenth birthday, Peter was invited to the lab.  Tony had been working on tech with him for a while and a good amount of the teen’s work had gone onto the market for Stark Industries.  When Tony tried to pay him part of the profits, the vigilante had refused.  He had even decided that he didn’t want to put his name on the products, humility on full show for Tony to see.  Out of options, the genius had instead decided the shower the teen in presents, giving him one almost every time he came over to the lab.  Peter always tried to refuse them, but Tony never let him.

That day in the lab, they worked together instead of on individual projects.  They were sitting right next to each other as they wired put together the Mark XVIII Iron Man suit.  The lab was silent except for the slight whirring of machines and their breathing.

The only thing going through Tony’s head was, ‘He’s a kid. Don’t be weird. He’s a kid. Don’t be weird. He’s a kid. Don’t be weird He’s a-’

“How’s school going?” Tony asked, desperately trying to make small talk.  If asked, he would’ve said that he preferred the lab to be lively with chatter, but he knew deep down that he just wanted to hear Peter’s voice.

Tony wondered if his father was looking down on him from heaven in shame, but his father’s sins far outweighed his own.  His judgment, even if justified by every melodious angel in heaven, meant nothing to him.

“Same old stuff as always,” Peter told him without looking up from their project. “Classes are easy, which is nice, but it’s still pretty boring.”

“You could always leave high school early and go to MIT,” Tony told him.

“Yeah, but I really wanna have the senior year experience,” Peter admitted.  Tony gave an understanding ‘hm.’

“You got somebody special you wanna spend your senior year with?” the genius teased.

It sent pins and needles into Tony’s heart.  He wanted to kiss the boy and shower him in compliments and take him around the world and make him blush.  He wanted to love him and be loved right back, but he knew that it wasn’t going to happen.  Peter would fall in love with another kid in his grade and go to prom and get his heart broken.  Peter was going to love someone and be loved right back, but it wasn’t going to be Tony.  That’s how it went.  The man knew that --  oh, he knew that -- but he loved and loved Peter anyway.

Peter sighed and tore his eyes away from the project, sitting up straight.  His shoulders slumped and his face fell slightly, helplessness filling up his expressive eyes.  Tony watched as the teen ran his hand through his hair, wishing he could put an arm around his shoulder and run his own fingers through the fluffy flop of hair on his head.

“Well,” Peter mumbled, “I like this guy, but he’s way out of my league.”

“I doubt he’s as far away to reach as you think,” Tony replied as he pulled himself away from the project as Peter did.  The teen snorted at the man’s response but didn’t meet his eyes.

“He’s never gonna think of me like that but I just keep dreaming that he does,” Peter admitted, a blush painting his cheeks pink.

Tony wanted to say, ‘I know how that feels,’ but replied with “I’m sure you’re just doubting yourself.  Tell me about him.”

“Well,” Peter says, a small smile on his face and his gaze resting on his lap, “he’s handsome and a really good guy.  He gets so much negative attention from everyone, but they just don’t know him like I do.  I’ve talked to him so much and I could keep talking to him for hours on end.  He’s so sweet and a genius.”

“He couldn’t be as much of a genius as you,” Tony complimented the boy, which made his blush grow darker.

“He’s known for being a genius.  He once called me one and I said I couldn’t be as smart as him, but he told me we’re on par.  I nearly died of happiness.”

Tony put a friendly hand on Peter’s should, which made the boy look up at him and finally meet his eyes.  He gave him a fierce look and hid his disappointment at how much the teen liked his crush.

“You just gotta make a move,” he told Peter.

Peter never brought his crush up again.

Better to leave it unsaid

Why can't I leave it unsaid?

Peter was invited to the lab on his seventeenth birthday too and he was just as happy to be in the lab as he was the first time he was invited.  That was one of the millions of things Tony liked about Peter: he was enthusiastic about small things.

This time around, the only thing running through Tony’s mind was, ‘Make a move. Remember what Rhodey said. Make a move. Remember what Rhodey said. Make a move. Remember what Rhodey said. Make a move. Remember what Rhodey said. But maybe you shouldn’t and-’

And then he looked at Peter smiling at him with rosy cheeks and joy-filled eyes.

He had talked to Rhodey right after Peter’s sixteenth birthday and the man, as always, was the only reason Tony hadn’t fallen apart.

Tony let out a long and dramatic sigh as he flopped onto the couch in the living room.  Rhodey, who was on the chair next to the couch, chose to ignore the genius and continued reading his book.  Tony gave out another overly dramatic sigh and Rhodey knew he would keep doing it until he paid attention.

“What?” Rhodey asked as he placed a bookmark between the pages and set his book down on the coffee table.

“I have a problem,” Tony informed him.

“I figured.”

Tony turned serious and sat up correctly.  He had a concerned and anxious look on his face, replacing his mask of confidence.  Rhodey rarely saw this side of Tony, which made him instantly worried.

“I’m in love when I shouldn’t be and it’s going to fuck everything up,” Tony told the man, forcing the words out of his mouth.  Rhodey raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to continue, but the genius cut him off.

“I shouldn’t even be attracted to him.  It’s wrong and disgusting!  I’m an awful person and my mom is probably looking down on me in shame.  I can’t believe myself, Rhodey!” Tony got up and walked behind the couch, starting to pace back and forth.  “He doesn’t deserve to have me wanting to date him.  It’s awful and I’ve been trying to repress it for almost a year, and I should distance myself!”

Tony paused in his pacing and buried his head into his hands, mumbling out, “But, cara madre Maria e signore sopra di, I am selfish.”

“Well,” Rhodey said nonchalantly, “I’m glad you at least know you like Peter.”

Tony’s head shot up and he whipped around to face his friend. “How did you know?!”

“It’s obvious on your face,” Rhodey told him, picking up his book again, “and it’s obvious on his too.”

The genius just stood there as his friend began reading again.  He was in a trance of shock and fear and, most of all, hope.

Peter was sleeping over at the tower for the night as it was his birthday and Tony, knowing Pepper would be mad if he and Peter stayed up all night working as they had done several times before, decided that they would have a movie night.  They were sat next to each other on the couch with ‘Me Before You’ playing on the TV.

You know I talk too much

Tony couldn’t stop thinking about how close they were.  He watched with loving eyes as Peter rambled on about the differences between the book in the movie, declaring the book much better than what they were watching.  Tony couldn’t focus on the movie, partly because of his crush’s talking and partly because of how distracting it was to watch the boy talk on and on with drooping eyes and messy hair.  Peter turned to him once he noticed Tony watching, but didn’t stop rambling on.

Honey, come put your lips on mine

Finally working up the necessary courage . . .

And shut me up

Tony leaned forward and placed his lips on Peter’s.

We could blame it all on human nature

Tony pulled back and looked at Peter, who had a blush painting his cheeks and ears pink and a shocked expression on his face.

Stay cool, it's just a kiss

“What was that for?” Peter said with a smile before backtracking. “Not that I didn't like it! I really did! It was nice! I liked it a  . . . I liked it a lot.”

Oh, why you gotta be so talkative?

“You talk too much,” Tony told him. 

“Do you not like it?” Peter asked in a small voice and looked down at his lap in embarrassment.

“I like it a lot,” Tony told him.  Peter leaned forward quickly and gave him another kiss, the two moving toward each other until they were shoulder to shoulder.

I talk too much, we talk too much

#starker #tony stark/peter parker #tony x peter #songfic #i wrote this while wearing llama socks and crocs #talk too much #axiwrites #fluff #starker fluff

[occasionalfics]

worth my while // p. 1

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ko-fi | prologue | p. 2 

Summary: After being banished from his home, Thor Odinson has stopped at nothing to prove himself worthy of his throne, title, and power. 

After losing the love of your life, you turned to a power you didn’t understand.You know you shouldn’t get involved. 

But how could you not?

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Hercules au…kind of…)

A/N: For all of y’all that are wondering how Thor is involved...here’s where it starts! Let me know what you think! :D

Warnings: Violence, lots of angst, borderline abuse and definite manipulation, eventual smut, way too many feels, major character death (eventually).

Words: 2,027

Hades spoils you, but only when he wants something out of you. Only when it benefits him. At least he doesn’t put his hands on you. Most of the time.

Tonight, he’s gifted you the most ostentatious golden gown you’ve ever seen. The back is low cut, and the front drapes over your body as if it were made for you. Even you notice how much you shine in it, but you can’t tell if that comes from your skin or Hades’ magic.

The shoes he’s given you, however, are not a gift. They’re torture devices, in your own opinion. But they make your legs look amazing.

Hades knows what he’s doing. Knows what he likes, too. Knows what men like him like.

Men like him and Victor Von Doom.

Sorry, Doctor Victor Von Doom.

God, you think, knowing all too well about the irony in not invoking Zeus instead. What a pretentious name.

But then again, your Master is the literal God of the Underworld. He’s not a man at all, you realize.

And you really shouldn’t be surprised; Doctor Von Doom’s ballroom is just as incredible as his name and reputation. According to the information Hades gave you, the man is an insanely rich sovereign of some country called Latvia, but he has business to attend to in New York. And, for some inexplicable reason, he hates Doctor Reed Richards, as if that means anything at all to you.

Hades insisted it would, one day. But that was all he’d said on the subject.

Von Doom is easy enough to find in his sea of guests. It’s a charity event, and everyone is clambering to get a peek at the elusive host. Why Hades thinks this man will comply with his terms, you can’t say, but you still find yourself doing your job, stalking over to him with your head held high, hair falling into your face for an air of mystery.

Hades words, not yours.

You join the conversation easy enough. It’s all the same, after a while. You stay coy and playful on the outside, despite the creeping cynicism and exhaustion inside. It’s enough to catch Von Doom’s attention on more than one occasion.

Eventually, you’re quipping back and forth with him, holding your own with a gazillionaire like you’d never imagined before giving everything to Hades. But the God has trained you, and trained you well. He refused to send you out to do his bidding until he was satisfied, knowing you were ready according to his own standards.

By now, you’re practically an expert in playing a room.

And you get Von Doom alone in under thirty minutes. Almost breaking your last record of twenty-seven and a half.

He brings you to his office, sits in a large, red velvet chair behind his desk, and pours two lowballs of Scotch. You forgo one of the chairs opposite him and place yourself directly on his desk, between his nametag and intercom.

“So, Miss (Y/L/N),” he says, a light accent evident in his tone. “I must say, you’ve quite intrigued me.”

You already know this, but you give a light chuckle and lift your shoulders playfully anyway. “My employer will be thrilled to hear as much.”

He tilts his head toward one shoulder as he looks at you quizzically. You have to admit to yourself that he is rather...gorgeous. Classic Hollywood looks, vaguely European accent, clearly tanned and bright eyes any woman could fall freely into.

But he’s also a Billionaire. And, according to some of the things you’d read, not the greatest person. Or lover.

“And who, may I ask, is your employer?”

Your smirk widens. You push yourself off his desk and take a look at the shelves he has around the room. A well-read man, Von Doom appears to be. It’s almost impressive - would be even more so if you hadn’t gotten to know Hades too well since...everything.

But you can’t get lost in that right now. No, right now, you have a mission. A job.

After all, you sold your soul.

“He’s a man of many talents, Doctor Von Doom.” You pick a book off a shelf, pretend to examine the spine, then place it back without messing up the order. “A man much like yourself.”

Only he’s immortal and clever and I hate him.

But that’s also your own fault.

You turn only your head and glance at von Doom. His expression is still curious, so you know you’ve got a hook in him. Now all that’s left to do is reel him in on Hades’ plan.

You cross your arms and go across the room to another shelving unit, this one covered in sculptures of all media and sizes. There’s a bust of a woman that you’re sure is Mary Shelley, but you’re not sure what she has to do with any of this.

“And what is it that your employer does?” Von Doom asks.

As calculated as Hades’ intends, you turn fully to him and answer, simply, “He deals in life.”

In a way, it’s true. But that’s another reason you hate Hades. He’s far too technical. Gets what he wants on too many technicalities and specific details.

And yet, you always find yourself still respecting his methods. He gets what he wants, and everyone else pays for it. He’s never the one to get hurt, never the vulnerable one. After a lifetime of being told that that meant being evil, you’ve come to find that that’s not always the case.

Sometimes, it’s just better. Easier, being alone. Because no one can get hurt.

Von Doom’s laughter pulls you back into the now. But no worries; you’re prepared for this, too.

You take a heavy step toward him. “My employer is interested in powerful people,” you say. “He has plans. World-changing plans, Doctor Von Doom.”

With a good-natured smile, he tells you, “Please, call me Victor.”

They always say that you think. But you nod anyway.

“Victor,” you start again, taking yet another step back to the desk. “My employer is a man with vision. He has his means, but he wants allies. People to share his vision of the future, with a similar vision for today.” You splay your hands on the edges of the desk and smile gently at him now. “He wants to take out the Avengers.”

Victor laughs again. For just a split second, you’re confused, but you quickly compose yourself.

Before either of you can make a next move, the door bursts open. More accurately, the door is forced into the room, the wooden moulding in its frame splintering and cracking, the concrete surrounding it turning to rubble.

Speaking of…

You have no idea what the Avengers could want at a Von Doom Charity Party. So when the blond God from...Space, as far as you know, barges in with rage in his eyes, you stand and immediately back away.

“Let the lady go, Doom,” the God says, deep voice booming through the room.

Victor’s smile falters and vanishes. He sighs and shakes his head.

“You simpleton,” Victor says. “Must you constantly be ruining my doorways?”

“In the name of public safety, whatever it takes.”

You definitely have no idea what that means.

Victor is up in a flash, a metal gauntlet covering his fist - a gauntlet he certainly wasn’t wearing a moment ago. He blasts the God with a streak of white light, but it only earns him a roar in return.

And a blast twice as bright, twice as powerful, and twice as damaging. It hurts for you to look, so you turn to the window and yelp.

The air in the room settles, and there’s a plopping sound as something heavy hits the floor. You don’t turn around until a hand settles on your upper arm, but instead of Victor, you find the God holding onto you.

You push his hand off and glare. “You asshole!” you yell. “I was in the middle of something!” Something much more important than this...Lightning Guy would ever know.

He just stares at you, blank expression on his face while the doorway around him continues to fall apart. You can hear shouts and yelling from the ballroom, and a metallic voice attempting to calm the crowd.

You roll your eyes, knowing Tony Stark is behind all of this. Whatever this is.

It’s too ironic, you think, that you’re here to accost Victor Von Doom in an attempt to get him to join Hades in taking out the Avengers when they just happen to show up.

“Are you not...a damsel in distress?” Lighting Guy asks.

You had half-turned to a passed-out Victor, but find you can’t help but respond. So you turn back and glare at him and spit, “Do I look like I’m in distress?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that. You return to Victor, who groans now. Without looking back at Lightning Guy, you tell him to get lost and head across the room to make sure your target is still alive, can still possibly benefit you.

In a way, you think you should thank the Avengers for showing up. With this attack on Victor, he’ll have a vendetta. Once the so-called heroes disperse, you can use this to your advantage.

To Hades’ advantage.

“I would not approach him if I were you, madame.”

You groan this time, a deep and rumbling sound that shakes your chest. “I can handle myself,” you tell him. Just inches from Victor’s twitching legs, you look at the...actually quite handsome, gigantic man in the doorway who’s watching you curiously. You smirk at him, because giving anything real away could jeopardize your new plan. “Have a nice day,” you tell him with a wink.

Kneeling beside Victor, you reach down and feel for his pulse, even though you saw him moving already. He’s definitely still alive, which makes you sigh.

“Ma’am,” you hear. It’s not Lighting Guy this time, though you missed the sound of footsteps approaching. “I’m gonna have to ask you to clear the room.”

You’d know that self-important, high-and-mighty tone anywhere. He was the spokesperson for the team, after all, though Tony Stark often thought of himself as such. The difference was that Stark had his own business to speak for on a regular basis, while Captain America had only the Avengers.

“Ugh, fuck off, would you?” you let out, despite how borderline polite the Captain had sounded.

“This building isn’t safe,” he says back, like you know nothing at all about the situation you’re currently in. “That man is a dangerous-”

“I know who he is,” you shoot. You sit back on your heels and give both Captain America and Lighting Guy an unimpressed look. “I’m a big, tough girl.” You turn and stand, just to make a point, showing off the uncomfortable shoes that lace up around your calves up to your knees. “I can tie my own sandals and everything.”

“I’ll give you one last chance, ma’am, before one of us is forced to remove you from the room,” Captain America says, voice even and commanding.

You’re not surprised that he’s not exactly the piece of Apple Pie every American thinks he is.

You look them both over. Lightning Guy’s biceps are bigger than your head. Each. He’s...unreal. Inhuman. He looks like he could pummel Hades into next year.

But the longer you look, the softer his eyes become. There’s...something akin to respect lining the electric blue of his irises. Like he sees the power you’re attempting to wield and likes it, even if you’re busy telling him to fuck off.

And Captain America - well, that dude punched Nazis! You couldn’t take him if you wanted to. He’d have you over his shoulder and down a flight of stairs before you could blink.

Because you know all this, and because you’d rather leave with whatever dignity you have left in tact, you sigh and nudge Victor’s shin with the heel of your shoe. You roll your eyes again and say, “Fine, fine. If he wakes up, tell ‘em I’ll be back, would ya?”

You head across the room and the two huge men make way for you. Just as you come up to Captain America’s shoulder, he steps back and puts himself in your way, but doesn’t bother with touching you.

You’re quite thankful for that, actually.

“I wouldn’t advise it, ma’am.”

You give him a rather condescending hmm, look right into his sky-blue eyes, and smirk the smirk Hades always says is the reason he keeps you around. “Save it for someone you can actually save, Cap,” you tell him.

Then, you’re gone.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #hercules au #worth my while fic

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND Chapter 3

aaaaaahhhhhh, do you know how LONG and HARD I had to look for that picture of Jon Campling?! Like the man keeps his hair to the small of his back. His hair is more glorious than mine. But seriously, that’s like the closest picture I can find of him to what I invision in my head, now just imagine the hair being cut and styled how it was in Kingsglaive but with a lot less gray, like more black in his youth because remember- he doesn’t have a ring sapping his youth and strength, he just has kids, draining his youth with their shenanigans, it’s debatable which is more tolling and taxing on him. That super yacht is actually the Serene, it’s glorious and I’m totally diving into the fantasy aspect of this fic because this is me indulging myself. Pry it from my cold dead hands.  

My apologies to everyone who has familes touched by drugs (including mine but thankfully not in my immediate family) and heads up because this touches on that a little. 

Yo- @the-immortal-marshal GURL. I had to pull the trigger. I had to. I’m sorry. And I’m just...so sorry. For all those reading this and going...why are you sorry? It’s fine? JUST WAIT. It’s not going to be fine for long. A storm is a BREWIN. 

AO3 or below and Tumblr- keep being cool and keep this under a cut. Be a Bro man. Don’t let me down. 

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND

Chapter 3

“So let me get this straight, you got this super yacht for going on one date with an Arab billionaire?” Crowe asked as she drank her super-food smoothie with extra ripe pineapple as the group sailed to the Caribbean.

“Uh huh- granted it was a week long “date” spent in Dubai at the demand of my mother but yeah.” Sylva nodded as she sipped her own drink with a smug grin.  

“Damn,” all the girls exclaimed.

“Oh and my super jet? That came from a Russian billionaire, when it came to the states, it had a case of beluga caviar in a secret compartment in the hold to get it past customs. I ate so much of it because it was only good for two weeks, I thought I was going to be sick and couldn’t eat it again for months. And that was another week long “date” spent in Moscow also at the demand of my mother.” Sylva revealed.

“Holy fucking shit.” All the girls giggled except for Selena, Luna and Stella who just shook their heads.  

“Hey, I’m not saying my parents pimped me out, but they totally tried and I can only hope my mother is rolling in her grave now. So if anything I’ve earned both putting up with those guys for as long as I did and the moment I got back from Moscow because Dubai and Moscow were consecutive weeks and before Dubai I spent a week between China and Tokyo going on even more “dates” with even more billionaires but that is besides the point. Anyway, my point is, I came home in the jet and drove straight to Regis’ house and fucked him so hard neither of us could walk straight to make up for my three week absence and nothing pushes you towards your true love quite like spite for your own gold digging parents, in particular my mother, it makes me so happy to see you wear her most prized pieces girls.” Sylva cooed to Selena, Luna and Stella as Selena giggled and touched her necklace as her own grin grew as Lunafreya and Stella just shook their heads and touched their own jewelry too. Between Sylva, Lunafreya, Selena and Stella they had divided up Agnes’ jewelry between them with Sylva getting the vast majority of it but Agnes’ favorite pieces that Sylva hated because she always felt her mother loved them more than she loved her, went to the three younger girls and Samantha as well to spite Agnes- with the promise that none of the girls would ever sell or give the jewelry away, simply pass it down to the next generation because the Anders line rightfully died with her and Sylva would be damned if the Nox Fleuret line ever would.

“So if any of you think that your parents are being unreasonable, or impossible, at least your parents aren’t nearly as bad as mine were.” Sylva cautioned all the girls.

“That’s so fucked up.” Crowe just shook her head.

“Well, what’s worse, your parents or Tredd’s mother?” Stella posed as Sylva and the other girls grimaced and hissed.

“Ooh, yikes, that’s a tough one.” Sylva had to admit. “How is she doing?” Sylva asked Stella.

“Well the day after Tredd proposed, Ted went looking for her and found her strung out at a crack house and put her into rehab that’s also a psyche ward, so it’s touch and go. If they can manage to get her on the right meds and with the right therapy, it’ll help but I don’t know if she’ll take to it or not.” Stella sighed tiredly.

“But she also has to want to get better for the right reason. Does she know about your trust fund? Because I’m worried that will be the only reason she gets better.” Sylva cautioned.

“Oh that worries me too and so far Tredd has forbidden his dad from telling her and won’t tell her either, he doesn’t want her around me and he’s mad at his dad for finding her to begin with. I think he would rather she die of an overdose than be a thieving leech on him and his dad again.” Stella answered. “I think for Ted, he sees me and Tredd together and doing well and it reminds him of what him and Shyanne used to be and he wants that again and misses that.” Stella ventured.

“If he’s that lonely there’s a lot of women he could be introduced to.” Sylva reminded her niece.

“Oh I know, Tredd and I both have offered but he’s not having it, it’s all or nothing with him.” Stella shrugged.  

“Well here’s to hoping she stays off of meth, crack and alcohol.” Sylva clinked her glass with Stella’s as the two shared a meaningful look.

“Same.” Stella snorted a laugh.

“I heard my name.” Tredd pointed out as he came up behind his fiance and stole a sip of her drink as he laid a hand over her shoulder and fingered her necklace teasingly as if he was itching to take it off of her but Stella knew that Tredd was only teasing- that he actually wouldn’t do such a thing. Part of his asshole behavior in the beginning had been bravado to cover up his own insecurity because he felt he knew that she was too good for him and if he was an ass enough, it would drive her away. Much the same way Stella liked to be a brashy bitch to drive nice guys away because she, deep down, didn’t think she deserved them even though her behavior spoke of entitlement, she was surprisingly not and once they both saw each other for what they really were and cut through each other’s bullshit, it only helped them fall in love with each other even if they felt they still needed to put on a show for appearances, when they were alone and by themselves with each other, they felt safe enough to be vulnerable with each other and really show their true colors and realize what a pair they made and how they were actually good to and for each other.

“We were talking about your mom, Mom was asking about her.” Stella said as she gestured to Sylva.

“Fucking bitch.” Tredd grumbled before he really started sucking Stella’s drink down.

“Why don’t you get your own if you like it this much?” Stella teased him.

“Because I’m not a pussy, but it’s really fucking good.” Tredd answered as all the girls rolled their eyes.  

“Well I hope your mom can make a recovery and sobers up.” Sylva offered sweetly.

“Yeah you’re the only one.” Tredd played off. “So anyone want to change their bets on Lil Mama?” Tredd asked, quickly changing the subject.  

Meanwhile Cor was meeting Clarus for a drink after work.

“You gotta help me.” Cor pleaded as they both sat at the bar as Clarus raised a curious brow.

“With?” Clarus asked warily.

“You gotta let me go on a drug bust or serve a warrant or something. I’m going insane.” Cor confessed.  “I haven’t left my desk in months, I go to get coffee from the shop down the street and I fantasize about some idiot knocking over the joint while I’m there or I go to the bank and I fantasize about someone robbing it while I’m in it. Like I’m looking over the bar and hoping someone gets drunk and will start a fight right this second.” Cor revealed and Clarus could only shake his head as Sylva’s words washed over his head.

“Well part of being settled down means actually liking the peace and quiet.” Clarus teased and Cor just whimpered and laid his head on his folded arms.

“Gradual peace and quiet! Not all at once!” Cor argued and Clarus just snorted a laugh and continued to shake his head. He could practically hear Sylva’s sing song tone of ‘I told you so’.

“Fine, if something comes up, I’ll let you know.” Clarus agreed.

Meanwhile back at home Ada eased into bathtub, she had splurged and got a little island getaway candle and a bath bomb and a sugar scrub for her skin and a deep hair conditioning mask and next to the bathtub sat a drink made out of some tropical blend juice spiked with whiskey, it was the closest to a tropical drink she could manage and enjoyed her night in alone. She dropped the bath bomb in and watched it swirl and dissolve in the hot water as she sipped her drink as she breathed in the scent of the little candle next to the tub. While she felt jealous of all her friends, at least she could do this for herself. Being furious with Cor over New York had only lasted a couple of days and it was broken by some amazing makeup sex before she groaned when she realized she forgot to pick up her birth control from the pharmacy again. She had been late getting it last month and now she was late getting it again this time. She had such a fickle memory lately.

She quickly shrugged it off and just as the bath bomb fully dissolved, her phone went off and she huffed and got it and saw all the pictures of Crowe and all her friends back on Sylva’s yacht before Crowe sent another picture of another ultrasound picture. She could see Luche in the background, talking with Tredd, Libertus, Nyx, Ravus and Pelna and smiling and still looking handsome as ever while Crowe was with all the girls, Sylva, Stella, Selena and Luna all wearing diamond necklaces and drinking proper island drinks. It wasn’t fair. Ada felt tears prick at her eyes before they fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. She sniffled and turned the phone off and tried to get back into the groove of her bath as she washed her hair then put the deep conditioning mask on it and then shaved her legs and underarms before scrubbing her skin with the sugar scrub then when she was done with that she took a foot file and tried to take off all the calluses from her feet. Being a waitress and being on her feet all the time meant her feet were tired and achy and often blistered if not callused.

When she was done the candle’s scent overpowered her nose and she blew it out before she started chugging her own drink again and before she knew it the drink was gone, the water was turning cold, the candle was out and her hair needed to get rinsed and instead of feeling refreshed, she felt even more frustrated...with everything. She laid back and rinsed the conditioning mask out of her hair and once she was done she sat back up and drained the tub and got out, putting a towel around her and got dressed and went to bed early after plugging in her phone again. Baxter jumped up on the bed and snuggled with her as she fell asleep.

In her dream she was back in the tea shop with Luche sitting across from her, pouring her a cup of tea, in a suit again and looking particularly handsome while she felt raw and compromised internally.

“I’ve missed you.” Luche finally said.

“You’ve been too busy to miss me.” Ada gently argued as she took the tea cup and drank from it again, the warmth of the tea cup warming her hands as the tea and his presence seemed warmed her soul.

“No I haven’t, it’s impossible for me to be too busy to miss you.” Luche countered with a gentle grin as he picked his own tea cup back up and sipped it.

“Are you sure you’re not missing something really important back at the office right now?” Ada questioned.

“Nope, I don’t deal with anything that’s life or death, whatever is there can wait until whenever I get back, you’re way more important than any paperwork I could do.” Luche insisted, his gentle grin turning reassuring and Ada felt warmed by the sentiment and she could tell he wanted to say more but forced his mouth to stay shut and let her have a moment of peace but part of her wanted to hear whatever he would say.

“What?” Ada asked, hoping that would help him say whatever he wanted or needed to stay.

“I’ve only ever wanted you. So anything I can do to spend time with you, no matter what the cost is- is something I’ll always do if it’s for you.” Luche finally spoke, his voice dropping to a low murmur so that he wouldn’t draw attention to them. But the look in his eyes brought tears to hers. The words were eating their way out of her throat as she stood as Luche did the same and came into his arms as he hugged her tight.

“I’ve only ever wanted you too. I love you.” Ada heard herself sniffle into his chest as she felt so safe and warm in his arms again. Like nothing could hurt her, like nothing could even disappoint her either.

“I love you too, let’s get out of here.” Luche proposed and Ada nodded before he kissed her and then Ada woke up with a start which woke Baxter up who started licking her tears away just as Cor came home from the bar and Ada quickly got control of herself again.

“Hey, you’re still up.” Cor grinned when he came into the room and noticed her sitting up in bed and petting Baxter.

“No, you woke me up when you came home.” Ada teased with a grin, praying her face didn’t betray her.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Cor apologized as he stripped out of his clothes and put his badge and his gun on the bedside table before he crawled into bed with her. “Well I’ll help put you back to sleep then.” Cor offered as he brought her into his embrace. “Wow, your skin is really soft.” Cor noticed as he smelled her hair as he kissed the crown of her head and touched the small of her back.

“Thanks, scrubbed it during my bath.” Ada smiled, pleased that he noticed and rewarded him with a kiss and soon that kiss led to another and a touch led to a caress and before either of them realized they were having soft, sweet sex with each other and when they were done, Cor noticed a little bit of blood on his shaft.

“Did you start your period Love?” Cor asked as he got a tissue to clean himself off with.

“Oh, I must have.” Ada blinked in surprise. “I feel like it’s early.” Ada muttered to herself as she got up and got a pad into her underwear.

“Well it’s always better to be early than it is to be late.” Cor joked and Ada laughed.

“I know right?” Ada grinned as she climbed back into the bed to rest and relax and really fall asleep.

Meanwhile back on the yacht.

“Why were you girls talking about Shyanne?” Tredd asked as he helped take the necklace off and put it away so himself and Stella could get ready for bed.

“Oh Mom was telling us the story of how she got the yacht and the jet.”

“Because her mom was the baddest pimp of them all, yeah.” Tredd nodded which got Stella to laugh.

“And she was telling us to be grateful our moms are nothing like that.” Stella added.

“And let me guess, you just had to drag Shyanne into it and go- ‘actually no, Tredd’s mom is much worse’.” Tredd surmised.

“Sorry if I embarrassed you.” Stella apologized softly as she hugged him and held him tight as he in turn clung to her and kissed the crown of her head. “I can promise you that I’ll never touch any of that.” Stella swore. “And just because she’s that way doesn’t mean you’ll ever be that way. I know we would beat the shit out of each other if we ever tried.” Stella lightly teased which got Tredd to crack a grin and huff a laugh through his nose as he continued to just hold her for a long while.

“So would you draw me like one of your French girls Jack?” Tredd teased as he let go of her and playfully tried to put the diamond necklace on himself which got Stella to crack up laughing.

“Yes I would.” Stella cackled.

“Show it to me when you’re done!” Crowe teased through the wall as Tredd jumped and panicked and threw the necklace back into case as Stella nearly went to her knees she started cracking up as she heard Crowe cackle a laugh too.

“Fucking go to sleep! Your knocked up body needs it!” Tredd spat at the wall as Stella was in tears and literally had to go to her knees, holding her sides and laughing her ass off as she could only imagine Crowe was in a similar state on the other side of the wall as Tredd got the necklace and made sure it wasn’t damaged before he put it back properly. “Or do I have to fuck Stella against that wall again?” Tredd threatened.

“Go to sleep! All of you! God!” Luche yelled through the other wall.

“Shut the fuck up and keep fapping!” Tredd yelled back at Luche.

“Fuck you!” Luche groaned before Tredd picked Stella up off the floor and pinned her to the wall between their room and Luche’s and started fucking her hard just to prove a point before Luche groaned again and left his room to go find refuge somewhere else but every room he passed he could hear every other couple being intimate which only made him more frustrated before he got to the couch in the main lounge and collapsed onto that before pulling a throw onto himself as he continued to grumble to himself, if Ada was here and back with him, he wouldn’t give a fuck because he’d be fucking her against the wall too. This wasn’t fair. Everyone else was with the love of their lives and he was in a constant state of anguish because his was still with someone else. Maybe he should have pushed Sylva to introduce him to her nieces. But at the same time Ravus kept reassuring him that if he was patient enough, that Ada would come back to him. He just had to be patient and endure this for now. He could do that. He had to. Now he understood what Ravus felt like when Selena had been with Pelna. If Ravus could wait for Selena, he could wait for Ada and they’d be just as happy too.

#Magic and Mracles and BEYOND #aaahhhhhhhhh

[eurusholmmes]

whispers | t.s.

This is long overdue, but I thought since I’m working the night shift alot these next two weeks that I would try to spit out the last of the requests I have. I have alot of changes coming in 2019 - and I probably won’t be taking alot of requests anymore. New guidelines, characters I will and won’t write for... You get the picture. 

Yes guys - We as writers do have the ability to turn down your request if we feel like we cannot fulfill it. 

Prompt: Would you be willing to write a Tony x Reade where she is helping him with his PTSD and anxiety, and happens to be a genius in biology or some type of science. But she is a bit overweight and overhears people gossiping about her or sees a tabloid saying that Tony deserves someone better looking. She starts to withdraw due to her insecurities and Tony believes it is his fault. Fully ending where they help each other with their insecurities? 

I would give my life for Tony to be happy - please enjoy this fic!

  “The pain center of the brain is called the cerebral cortex, and it is the last branch of the body that processes the pain you are in. It is what informs you that something is very, very wrong.” 

When you first cross the path of Tony Stark, it’s on your way home from your newly appointed position as head of the neuroscience division at Stark Industries. You had done remarkable work in the name of Stark, and that was how you earned your thirty seconds of fame. Or what would have been thirty seconds if Pepper Potts hadn’t found you in the midst of helping Tony Stark through his first real anxiety attack.

He’d come to you for updates and had collapsed in your arms. 

That was when you came to know the darkness that resided inside of your boss, your confidant, your best friend, and the man you would eventually love.

“Self deprecation is toxic to the mind. It invades your thoughts, your very being... desperate to convince you that you are not good enough. That you are not worthy enough to keep living knowing what you have committed to remain alive.”

With the blood on his hands and the demons that claw at his soul, Tony doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love. His mind screams at him to run as fast as he can every time he sees you smile, because if his gaze lingers just a moment longer, he’ll fall harder then he ever has.

When Pepper left Stark Industries and Tony’s life, you were the one who was there to pick up the pieces. The only one who could see the tragedy lurking deep within those brown eyes - the stories that nobody else dared to look into. The loss of his parents. The fall of New York. The dreaded worm hole that he never dared to tell the tale of, because he relived it every time he closed his eyes. 

  “What do you see when you look at me, Y/N?” It’s the first time Tony has offered to take you away from the insanity of being the head of the neuroscience department, leaving it in the capable hands of your assistant for the weekend. Bora Bora, he said. How could you refuse something like that?

You casually sipped the martini poised in between your fingers, desperate to not dwell on the fact that you were at the shoreline dressed in shorts and a blouse - and Tony was in his swimsuit at your side. He didn’t need to see what laid underneath your clothes. Even you didn’t want to see it half the time. 

  “I see a suit of armor around a world that has been saved.” 

Things flourish for a while. Your department thrives in your research which you so eagerly share with Tony. You attend parties, you meet the Avengers. It’s the best life you have lived in ages. 

That is, until you hear the whispers. 

When Tony asks you to be his girlfriend, part of you almost immediately wants to recoil at the thought and whisper, “No.” And it’s not his fault, it’s the fault of the media because being the girlfriend to Tony Stark means that everyones eyes are on you. The woman who lingers on his arm. 

They want to know your name, your age, where your from, if your hair is natural or dyed, what your weight is - every minuscule detail of your life subject to the world. Every single person who knew about your relationship with Tony would have something to say about how you weren’t pretty enough or good enough for someone as beautiful as him. 

And they were right. Tony Stark was beautiful. He was far too handsome, too out of your league, and that’s what drives your answer to his question - until you think about what kind of good you can do for him. How you can teach him to deal with his PTSD, work through his anxiety issues.. learn to accept the love he is adamant that he doesn’t deserve. 

You love him. You love him despite his darkness, despite his demons.. and you love just how his eyes sparkle when he looks at you. Because it’s not lust, it’s complete and utter adoration.

  “Tony?” Marching through the penthouse of the Avengers Tower, you furrow your brow in your search for the billionaire. He hadn’t shown up to the mandatory meeting this morning - which had left you to return to his home in search of him. The two of you normally met in the middle of the week for self defense class - a demand on his part for the closest person to Iron Man. “Anthony Stark! I have your favorite alcohol on hand and I’m not wearing any clothes!!” 

Nothing. 

You stand still in the kitchen and carefully listen for sounds of life - and that’s when you hear it, the unmistakable sound of hyperventilating. Your feet carry you faster then they ever have before and that’s how you find yourself frozen in Tony’s bedroom door, eyes locked on the shaken man that laid on the floor. 

  “No- It’s not my fault!” Tony cries, eyes screwed tightly shut as he rocked back and forth on his heels. You took a moment to survey the room that lay in shambles. Bedsheets askew and wrinkled, half a bottle of whiskey that looks to have been untouched for the past several hours. Crumpled suits lay thrown in a pile in the corner, and the room reeks of body odor. “Not everything is on me. Screw you-” He inhales sharply and slams his fist against the floor. “Screw your legacy!” 

Warm hands ghost over his wrists, and Tonys eyes snap open to meet your concerned y/e/c only inches away from his own. And without a moments hesitation, he throws himself into your embrace and doesn’t let go. 

After that, you say yes. You say yes to being the best part of Tony’s life and push any thoughts of what other people think. 

  “I adore you in all your utter childish behavior.” A nerf bullet flies out from behind the overturned sofa, and Natasha bursts into hysterical laughter when Tony guffaws from the bullet that has marked the center of his forehead. 

  “And I you in your ridiculous aim!” 

He calls it an obligatory party - to show people that the Avengers are just as human as the rest of the world. A black gown with your exact measurements is already laying on your bed by the time you arrive home from work, and as Natasha helps you into the gown and finishes off your hair and makeup - you dread the whispers of the people who lurk downstairs. 

  “They won’t know what hit them.” 

They start in the midst of your search for Tony, causing your stomach to turn and your palms to sweat when you feel their prying eyes on you. 

How much does she weigh? 200 pounds?

Tony is way too sexy and so out of her league. 

Where does she shop? A retail store? 

Had it not been for the stunning smile of your boyfriend to keep you from falling off the edge, you were sure you would have fled to the sanctuary of your bedroom and indulged in another season of Cloak and Dagger. But you had promised Tony that you’d attend this party, and that’s exactly what you do. 

He’s all smiles and winks and snapping pictures of the two of you with his phone until cleanup is over, and the two of you disappear into your bedroom for the night. And it’s over the course of the week that Tony begins to feel the guilt over something he isn’t entirely aware of, and he ponders what he could’ve done to push you away. 

The smell of omelets and fresh coffee in the Tower kitchen draws him from his sleep, and Tony stumbles into the room to sate the growling noise of his stomach. It’s only when he’s half bitten into the omelet Steve made him that he sees Natasha lounging on the love seat with a tabloid poised in her hands. 

He and Y/N are on the front cover. 

The title of the article is in bold, Y/N Y/L/N - Is she good enough for New Yorks favorite billionaire? 

  “Give me that piece of trash-” Tony snarls as he snatches the magazine from Natasha and thumbs through the pages until he comes upon the article written about the two of you. Most of it is regurgitated facts he’s heard a thousand times - but there is one line that makes his blood boil with rage. 

How does a man like this settle for a girl like her? 

Panic takes place of his anger when he realizes that you are nowhere in sight, and you were not in bed when he woke that morning. Clint and Natasha are in the living room, Steve is mulling over the morning paper after cooking for the team, Thor was on Asgard and Bruce was in the lab. “Hey guys, has Y/N made an appearance this morning? She-” He swallows the growing lump in his throat. “She wasn’t in bed when I woke up.” 

Natasha happens to be the only one with a pair of eyes that can clearly see just how much her teammate cares about you, which is what prompts her to lift her head from Clints shoulder to regard Tony. “She went to the roof at sunrise this morning. Said she needed some time to clear her head.” 

And after stopping in the stairwell that leads to the roof to calm the pounding of his heart at the thought that you would leave him, Tony emerges on the roof and finds exactly the opposite of what he was expecting. 

  “Hey gorgeous. Glad to see you slept an entire night.” You call out, adjusting your position in the beach chair you had placed on the roof earlier that morning. After seeing Natashas tabloid sitting on the coffee table, you had taken the time to read through the article despite your niggling fear of what they had to say about you. “Wanna strip off that shirt and your pants?” 

  “Is that your nonchalant way of asking for sex?” He replies teasingly, grinning widely when you lower your sunglasses down your nose to peer at him. You had read that article with the intention of coming to a conclusion about being Tonys girlfriend, and you had. You didn’t care what the media said about you, what his fans thought about you. 

You only cared what Tony thought about you. That was all that mattered. 

  “No, you stupid man. It means you take your sexy self and lay on this chair beside me so we can talk in private.” You retorted, patting the seat at your side as you produced his aviators from underneath your chair. Tony immediately scurried across the roof, taking off his clothes as he went, until he was laying beside you in nothing but his boxers with his sunglasses perched on his nose. “I was up early this morning because I had to pee-” 

  “Typical.” 

  “And I saw that tabloid sitting on the table. I know I’ve been distant this week, and it’s because I’ve been working on my research and trying to come to a conclusion on our relationship. How I feel about having the entire world looking at me every time I go outside.” A comfortable silence ensues as you press your lips together in a thin line. “And I did.” 

Tony takes the half drunk bottle of whiskey you snagged from your bedroom and sips slowly. “Which is what?” You turned onto your side and lowered your sunglasses, fingertips reaching out to graze his jaw. The mischievous gleam in his eyes dissipates into a softness he only holds for you, slipping his own hand out from underneath him to rest it on top of yours. 

  “I don’t care what the world says. It’s you and me, that’s what matters. What matters is that you help me feel confident in my own skin, and I help you learn to sleep through the night again. What matters is that you make me feel like the most beautiful woman alive, and I make you a better man.” Tears blur your vision as Tony sits up at the waist and throws his legs over the side of the chair so he is facing you. 

  “I love you.”

 It flows from his tongue so freely, as if he’s been waiting years to confess it. Desperate hands grip your hips to pull you effortlessly into his lap, and Tony takes the opportunity to capture your lips in his own. Sunkissed skin warms your hands as they slide up his bare chest to rest at the nape of his neck, tangling in chestnut locks as he pries himself away from you to leave open mouthed kisses on the curve of your bare shoulder. 

The bottle of whiskey is long forgotten. 

  “I love all of you.” 

#Anthony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Iron Man x Reader #Iron Man #The Avengers #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel oneshots #Marvel imagines #Marvel #Kayla Grace writes imagines

[pinkletterday]

The Secrets Between Us

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Oliver Queen

Rating: All Audiences

Summary: Henry gets to meet the new man in his son's life.

Part 4 of the Coldflash vs Olivarry polyam AU

Read on AO3

#myfic #fanfic #olivarry #the flash #arrow #flarrow #barry allen #oliver queen #henry allen #meet the parents #coldflash vs olivarry polyam au #pre-series au

[heyhowdyhellohi]

Delirious

Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: emotional conversations at dawn

It was 3 am. More specifically, it was 3am the day after your last final. The day had been a blur of coffee and quick snacks, sore hands from early onset arthritis and two on the spot essays with insane time limits, and make up and more coffee and sweaty dancing until here you were, sitting on the steps of some frat house porch in the cold night, finally realizing that it was over and you’d be home with your family soon. Hell week felt like a bad joke you’d missed the chance to tell, and now it’s time to talk about something else. You sat on the steps and waited for your roommate to tire out so you could drive back to your flat.

“Excuse me. Would you mind sharing a step?” a handsome guy asked, having just stepped out of the frat house himself.

“Yes, I do mind.” you held your head in your hands. Damn. Time just keeps dragging you along, and when you finally get a moment to just think, some douchey frat rat comes out to bother you.

“That’s fine, I’ll just sit on the next one.” He took a seat leaning against the wall of the house, facing you from two steps down. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you as he smirked.

“Fine, but you have to put up with my existential babbling.”

“Oh, are you one of those depressed drunks?” You thought maybe he was judging you, but the smirk on his face suggested he was playing a game.

“No, I’m a sleep deprived philosophy major who moonlights as a designated driver.”

“Ah, so no fun for old Camus?”

“Referencing a French existentialist author? I’m impressed.”

“What? You had me pegged as a meat-head frat boy?”

“Nah, meat-head implies sportiness. You’re too delicate.”

“Truth is me and my buddy Bruce fixed their router a few weeks ago. They made us ‘honorary beta cappa betas’. But you can just call me Tony.”

“Y/N.”

“So, I’ve got a life question we could ponder. It’s the perfect time for it too, isn’t it? 3am, a little tired, a little wasted, watching the universe turn over our heads.”

“You seem more than a little wasted.”

“What’s left after we’ve gone? I mean, do we leave anything behind? Does it matter?”

“Ah, legacy obsessed. Well, we certainly don’t leave our egos behind, that fades with us.” He made a point to look deeply offended. but he broke the facade with a smile. You continued seriously this time, “Well, personally I believe there’s order in the chaos. Everything you do has a chain reaction. So, for me I guess we leave behind our impact on others people’s lives. It’s neither good nor bad, because an impact that’s immediately positive could end up negative in the long term.”

“We’re all just footprints among footprints that will be stepped on some day, but maybe they’re leading up to something. Wouldn’t that be great?” You weren’t sure his words meant anything to him, he seemed pretty out of it, draped against the wall with his eyes closed and his beer in his lap. “Here’s an idea! Write me a letter!” His eyes popped open and he leaned towards you.

“What?”

“Yeah, yeah! Like this: Dear... uh... Dear Y/N, It’s good to see that you’ve continued your studies. I myself have dropped out and become increasingly successful as a professional billionaire. I have a mansion and three buildings in New York City with my name on them.” He stopped when you started laughing. He smiled along like he wanted to join in, but hadn’t heard the joke. “Your turn. You do it. Dear Tony:...”

“My Dearest Tony: I’m doing very well in College. They’re going to let me graduate early on account of I’m smarter than everyone here. The only condition is that I become a full-time professor of philosophy. I think I’ll take them up on the offer. On the other hand, I’m curious to hear more about how one becomes a professional billionaire. If you could explain it to me, maybe I could join you in your endeavor.” 

This time you both laughed. It was ridiculous, but you were tired and he was drunk and it was nearing dawn. The birds were waking up, another year had flashed by and you were scared that daylight was in sight. So, instead of wallowing in how it felt like an end, and like you’d missed out on something, you kept making up letters. Tony wrote to you about his growing business, although it was still unclear how he had amassed his fortune. He spoke of his imaginary wife Pepper, his parrot Jarvis and his dog Friday. And he wrote in a part for Bruce, his friend, and how he worked under Tony and they squabbled but they were best friends.

You ‘wrote’ him about your becoming a professor, accepting a Nobel peace price, and feeling lonely at times because men were so intimidated by your mind. Then, of course, the story got a twist when Tony, in his letter, thanked you for the wedding invitation. Then, you invented a man named Jude who was brilliant and difficult at times but mostly wonderful. You spoke of a house in the country with plenty of room for your two kids to play around in.

Things got sad when Tony invented a son named Peter. He said he was so proud of him and how kind and brilliant he was. He talked about how scared he was that something would happen to him and how worried he was that he was a bad father. He’d even teared up. So, you responded saying that you were sure he was an amazing father and that they were both lucky to have each other, and you cried too, because it was late and early and you hadn’t spoken to your parents in a month and you hadn’t slept in a week, and you were a sympathetic crier. So, for a few minutes the both of you sat on the front porch of a frat house, party music thumping in the background, crying over being bad imaginary parents.

You wrote your dream lives to each other. You laughed and you cried, but nothing compared to the silence after this letter:

“Dear Uncle Tony, Y/N has passed away. We’re grieving, but we are comforted by the knowledge that she lived a full life. She left you a box in her will. It’s filled with old letters spanning back 50-no no no, no way, sorry- 60 years. They’re from you. She cherished them very deeply. Thank you for being a friend to my mother and for always being family to us. With love, John.”

“The letters stopped, I guess.” Tony murmured after a long time. You were both cuddled up on one step now, his arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist. Now, both of you were sober as rocks, looking out at the downtrodden grass at the bottom of the steps.

“I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”

“S’okay. You were 80 something years old. It happens.”

“Yeah.”

“Uncle Tony, huh?” He poked you a bit under the ribs. You laughed and rested against him, trying not to fall asleep.

“That’s what I leave behind: a box of letters and family. Take care of them for me.”

“Hey, calm down there. It’s just a game. It’s just a stupid game.”

“What time is it?”

“4.”

“4am and a lifetime away.”

“It’s just a stupid game, Y/N. Don’t worry yourself about it.”

#college au #tony stark #mcu #finals week #procrastinating the day away #young!tony #Tony x reader

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

The Curtain, part 6

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You had been Steve Rogers’ best girl for many years, until he took down SHIELD and proclaimed his allegiance to Hydra. And that was when your world came tumbling down. Now you were part of the Underground - a group of rogue heroes and civilians that wanted nothing to do with Hydra. The Mount was the secret headquarters where you lived now, as you all try to find a way to get the world back. And where you try your hardest to forget Steve Rogers or at least the man he is now, but could you ever?

Characters: Hydra! Steve Rogers, Past!Steve Rogers,Clint Barton/Hawkeye, Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow, Miles Morales/Spider-Man, Amadeus Cho/Hulk, Viv Vision.

Warning: If you don’t like the Hydra Steve currently in the Marvel comics, don’t read. Won’t be tagging anyone unless they asked to be tagged. Spoilers for Secret Empire.

A/N: This is mostly based on the comic Secret Empire and most of the characterization is based on comic book counterparts - or at least a mix of the two for those also in the MCU. Also, this is just a mini-series - not sure how many parts. TBH, this story isn’t what you expect. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

You sat quietly next to Tony as everyone ate silently, the Avengers were tired and looked beat down, but they had won - like history had promised. After you had shocked Steve with the whole Hydra thing, Tony declared it was time for shawarma and everyone gathered and made their way to the small eatery.

“So, Cap turns evil in the future,” Tony grumbled in between bites. “Not surprised.”

“Watch it,” Steve warned his friend, who grinned widely.

“No, I mean, it’s shocking,” Tony stated with dramatics.

“This is serious,” you snapped. “My friends are in danger, they could be dead as we speak..I…we need to do something.”

“Who are your friends,” Clint spoke up, shifting his legs off Natasha’s chair. You looked at him and pain filled your heart, thinking of the future Clint.

“You,” you stated quietly, eyes focused on the food in front of you. “Nat, the kids.”

“Kids?”

Natasha gave you a concerned expression and you sighed. “Miles, Viv, Amadeus - he’s..the new..Hulk.”

Bruce’s eyes flew to you and he fumbled over his words. “New Hulk?”

“Long story,” you explained hastily. “Maybe for a later date, but right now? I need to figure out how to get back to my time and how to make sure Hydra never gets a hold of any cosmic cube. That’s how they change the future, we never won the war, Hydra took the victory and Captain America had been a sleeper agent the entire time. He took down SHIELD, stabbed all of us in the back.”

“That’s insane, I would never…Hydra, they’ve killed so many people. They killed my best friend,” Steve shook his head and stood up from the table. You got up and walked around the table to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at you and the familiarly in his eyes nearly knocked you over.

“I know, Steve. That isn’t you, the future Steve, that isn’t you. That’s why I need to fix it.”

The table grew quiet and you became fully aware that everyone could hear, so you stepped closer to Steve and lowered your voice. “I have to save the man I love.”

Blue eyes stared down at you and they softened at the pain in your eyes. “So in the future, you and I are together?”

“Yeah,” you answered softly. “For a few years now, until everything went down. I was on my way to get a piece of a cube just outside of Nevada. It was a set up, I knew that much, but I figured -”

“- figured it would bring you to me - him,” Steve concurred.

“Yeah,” you nodded, fingers gripped the helm of your jacket. “His agents said he didn’t want me dead, I suspect he was going to try to get me to side with him.”

“And would you have?”

Steve’s question rung in your ears and you stood silent for a moment before looking up at him. “I want to say I wouldn’t have, but who knows how weak I’d be in his presence. I still love him, why would I be here if I didn’t?”

“Hey lovebirds,” Tony called from the table. “Why don’t we take this party back to  the Tower. Thor needs to shower.”

You snorted at the billionaire’s humor, because you missed this Tony. The non alcoholic Tony, the non A.I Tony Stark. Here he was no longer the ghost of someone you use to know, he was alive, in the flesh. You decided then to not divulge any unnecessary information to the others, keeping it on a need to know basis.

“Alright, let’s go to the Tower,” you smiled at Tony, who returned the gesture with a clap of the hands.

“You heard the future lady, let’s go.”

…..

An hour later, you stood in Bruce’s lab, watching as he looked over the Tesseract. You had explained how you touched a piece of cube and were transported to this time. Tony and him rattled off different theories and quickly got to work on finding a solution, while you listened quietly and avoided all contact with Steve. Just being around him, the real him, it hurt so badly and was just a reminder of what was waiting back home.

“So Thor went back to Asgard?”

“Yup and took his bratty brother with him,” Tony smiled smugly. “He’s coming back for the Tesseract eventually. So tell me, am I still devilishly handsome in the future?”

Bruce chuckled and you just shrugged. “Sure.”

“So the Cap and you,” Tony eyed you carefully. “That’s an actual thing or….”

You sent Bruce a pleading look and he quickly asked for Tony’s help on something, feeling grateful, you walked over to the window. New York City was still whole, yeah there was damage and things that needed repair, but man it was great to see the city alive again. Not riddled with Hydra propaganda and civilians that were blinded by Captain America’s agenda.

“You okay?”

Tony stepped next to you and gave you a small smirk. You kept looking out the window, down to the city and sighed.

“I miss this, I miss the Avenger’s, the city,” you croaked out, trying to hold back the tears.

“That bad, huh?”

You wiped at your eyes and chuckled. “You have no idea. Honestly, you’ be surprised at who took Steve’s side. Either out of loyalty or brainwashing, I don’t know. What I do know is that I have Clint, Nat and the kids to worry about. If I don’t fix the future, Steve’s going to have to die.”

Tony’s eyes snapped over at you and you met his gaze with tears. “I’m going to have to do it. And I don’t want to do it, Tony.”

The man pulled you into his arms and you finally cried, sobbed against his chest. You clutched the back of shirt and he looked over to Bruce, who gave him a helpless shrug. Tony rolled his eyes at his friend before slowly pushing you off his chest, giving you a soft smile.

“Listen, no one’s gonna end Cap, alright? We’ll figure this out,” he assured you, sliding his hands off you. “Come on, it’s us,” he pointed a thumb at Bruce. “The Science Bros.”

“I didn’t approve that title.” Bruce adjusted his glasses and continued to look down at his tablet.

“Sorry to kill the moment,” Clint appeared at the door, wearing a set of clean clothes - jeans and black tee. “A room’s been made up for you, not sure how long you’re staying..”

“You’re a good man, Barton,” Tony chimed, pushing you toward the door. “Go with the archer, get some rest and let us Science Bros work.”

You thanked Bruce, who gave you a nod and followed Clint out the door, to the elevator. He motioned for you to get in first, so you did and when he stepped inside, he stood off to the side. You couldn’t even look at the man, not when the last time you had seen him, the two of you had kissed.

Clint cleared his throat and looked at you with wearily eyes. “So I know you in the future?”

“We’re friends.”

He hummed and scratched the back of his head. “So when do we meet?”

“Not for another few years,” you explained, feeling relieved that the elevator stopped, opening it’s doors to the quarters floor.

“And you’re with Steve?”

This time you laughed and shook your head. “Why does everyone keep asking that?”

Clint shrugged and motioned for him to follow you down the hall.  “He’s been unfrozen for a minute and now you show up, saying you’re his girlfriend - wife?”

“Girlfriend,” you corrected him.

He lead you to a room at the end of the hall. “This is you, holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Clint,” you smiled and without thinking you hugged the man. He stiffed up, but you just embraced him tighter, closed your eyes and remembered all the good times you had together. All the good times you had with everyone, Steve, Clint, Miles, Viv, Nat, Amadeus, Tony, and the rest of the gang of heroes you called family. You wanted them all back so badly and this was your chance to fix everything and fuck if you weren’t gonna do it.

Clint cleared his throat and you let go of him. “Sorry.”

He scratched the back of his head and grinned. “I guess we are friends in the future.”

“Yeah,” you replied with a simper. “We are really good friends.”

“Good to know.”

You laughed and pointed a thumb to the room behind you. “Um, I’m gonna take a nap. This whole time traveling to save your evil boyfriend thing is tiring. Let me know if the Science Bros need anything.”

Clint chuckled and nodded. “Sure thing.”

You watched him walk away and when he turned the corner, you opened the bedroom door. It was neat and clean, generically normal with a tv, bookshelf and desk. The bed was queen size and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t look comfortable. So you tore off your jacket and kicked off your shoes and practically flung yourself onto the memory foam mattress.

“Oh..god…”

You groaned grabbing a pillow to snuggle against. It had been so long since you had a decent nap or a night’s sleep, or any sleep. And before you could protest, your eyelids felt heavy and quickier than Quicksilver’s speed, you fell asleep.

Tagging: @travelwithwords @bubbleboss15 @frostingsfics @buttercup337 @to-pick-ourselves-up-7@alwayshave-faith @radrouda @rubynationwins  @mo320 @sleepyartistsworld 

Only tagging those who ask to be for this series.

#The Curtain series #The Curtain #steve rogers x reader #hydra!steve #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #clint barton #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #secret empire #marvel

[percontaion-points]

Let’s Play “Moments: Lust Under The Moon 2″ Part 1

Lust Under the Moon was the first of the Moments games that I played when I first downloaded the app. I wrote about it in the email group. And I'm certain that I could go and dig up all of the posts about what happened... I just don't feel like it.

Furthermore, I'm not sure if this is a direct sequel to the first, or if there's a different MC. In the first one, I named MC “LeatherFang” (LF for short), because why not? In the spirit of that, I'm going to name the MC of this game “ScarletFang”, or SF for short. (Thanks random goth name generator! That's... a name.)

Anyway, I'm not quite sure what's going to happen in this game. At the end of the last one, LF got marked with Patrick, and that seemed pretty final. So unless they're going to go back and say that none of that happened at the end, or to say that your lover at the end died, but you can totally get remarked if that happens...???

I also love Patrick till the end times. So unless he's just not in this game, then that's probably who SF is going to end up with.

ALSO ALSO... I have like 400+ diamonds right now, so I'll be doing a bit of VIP options. Yay.

On to the game!

We start off with what I'm guessing is amnesia SF, in some sort of underground fighting arena... punching who I'm pretty sure is werewolf!Liam in the face. The only thing she remembers is her name: ScarletFang Rose.

Anyway, that's Patrick (aka the husbando). She has visions of him, but doesn't know who he is or what he means to her.

Don't know who this is, but he seems to know SF.

Anyway, this is Barry Whitmore, aka the one that SF had been fighting in the arena. (Using Liam's werewolf avatar was... probably not the best idea...) SF tells Barry that he needs stitches for a cut on his brow, and he teases her “has your memory come back and you just remembered that you're a doctor?” I legit can't tell if he's just joking around or if he actually knows something. SF takes care of his wound. He remarks that whenever she injures another wolf, it always take them longer to heal than usual. Also, nobody quite knows what she is, and she doesn't even have a scent. Barry thinks that she's a witch, but she doesn't have any actual powers... except for, you know, her super fast healing and fighting abilities and what-have-you. She mentions that she knows about how territorial that werewolves are, and he asks how she knows that. The sexual tension is thick BUT YOU ARE A MARRIED WOMAN, YOUNG LADY. (Not like she remembers that). SF and Barry are apparently lovers from time to time, too, although SF inwardly admits that she prefers being his friend than his lover.

I too enjoy cage-fighting in a Jessica Rabbit dress. σ.σ

SF resists him. He asks why, and she says that she feels like it's a mistake. He insists that she resisted that urge three times already, so why not more? He wants to mark her, but all of this goes back to how she doesn't know who she is. She feels like there's somebody else out there, waiting for her.

She has another vision of Patrick, this time fighting with Liam. She has a phantom pain on her shoulder, from where the werewolf bit her back in the first installment of this series. But she doesn't have a scar or any other indication that she was bitten there, so it seems weird to her that it would hurt.

Barry apologizes, and says that since she's markless, she seems like the perfect candidate to be marked. But SF is quick to point out that she doesn't even know if she's a werewolf or anything like that. She continues to pull away from him. He mentions that “Eisendrath” wants to see her at the manor, and she seems irritated. So SF goes to the manor, via a car Eisendrath sends for her.

He's apparently “bound” to her, and he kind of owns her. Oh boy... He seems to think that she's changed a lot in the two years since he found her, but SF says “two years in a cage can do that.” He asks SF to kill somebody, and she says “but what if I say 'no'?” He says that she literally cannot say no, and it's not like she's never killed before. But only just other supernatural creatures inside the cage fights. He goes on to say that this is another kind of monster. He shows SF a picture of “Marcus Walker”, some billionaire CEO. Should have lead with that, dude. I love murdering billionaires... so long as they aren't providing any legit care for people around them. SF describes him as being 20-something and handsome... so he's totally going to be a datable. Ugh. But, he's also apparently linked to a bunch of murders of young women. No word on if he's supernatural or not... My guess is yes, considering this series. Anyway, Eisendrath wants this done as part of a personal vendetta.

Later, SF goes to a hotel room, where she changes to meet with Marcus. She watches him for a while, but when she gets too close to him, she catches wind of his scent and pops a ladyboner. She literally cannot resist him at this point.

Marcus goes into a restaurant, and SF follows him, but as she's being seated, a host says that Marcus has requested that SF join him. Well okay then. The host goes on to explain that Marcus owns the hotel. SF declines the offer, and sits down with her back to him.  However, this is all a ruse to get him to come to her.

Rich, pale, insanely good looking... My money is on vampire. (But then again, I thought Patrick was a vampire for the longest time...)

As expected, right on schedule, Marcus comes over to her table. As he talks to her, SF has another vision. (And don't expect me to identify all of them if they can't put in the avatars of the others...) SF and Marcus introduce themselves, but SF was so distracted by how horny she is for him that she forgot and used her actual name. Oops. THEN HE GOES “WHAT A BEAUTIFUL NAME.” Buahahahaha.

He joins her at her table, orders wine, and asks what she does for a living. She says that she's a “headhunter”, but offers nothing else. He tells her about his own business, and asks if she's not there to poach one of his employees, but she says that she's there for pleasure. He then asks if she'd reject him if he invited her up to his penthouse later, and she kind of plays coy. (Because she obviously can't murder him in the middle of the hotel restaurant.) She tells him to have the wine sent up, and they leave.

In the elevator, he tells SF that he's going to kiss her as soon as the doors to the penthouse open, which turns her on immensely. He goes on to describe what he's going to do with her. They get into his penthouse, and the kissing begins. SF stares into his eyes and feels like he's seen some shit, and randomly feels guilty over her need to kill him, so she decides not to.

Just then, Marcus notices some shadowy figures luring in the dark of his home. Oh, and he is a vampire (CALLED IT.) There's a very brief fight, and Marcus gets stabbed, so now SF is forced to fight. She foolishly launches herself at the vampire hunter (?) through the window, which breaks, and they both fall out, but land on the balcony a floor below.

SURPRISE!! It's Patrick! He calls out her name, much to SF's surprise. Marcus calls out to SF, and SF tells Patrick to leave, which he does by jumping down to the next balcony below. Marcus jumps down to the balcony, but he's hurt, and collapses when he lands. He asks SF who she is.

#let's play #percontation points plays dating sims #Moments #Lust Under The Moon 2