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endgame-ironspider · 2 years

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trying - to be more active on tumblr by posting a fic i speed-wrote in discord & then cleaned up later. full credit to @starkerhowlter for the amazing prompt 💜

summary- tony and peter are in a relationship, but the others don’t know. one day, peter slaps tony’s ass playfully with a hand covered in paint and the bright pink handprint on his chinos is what forces their reveal.

You can also read this on AO3!

Tony walks into the kitchen, humming a slightly off tone version of ‘Toxic’ under his breath. He hadn't initially wanted to listen to Britney Spears in his lab--it threw the whole vibe off--but Peter wouldn’t listen, even going so far as to rope FRIDAY, the traitor, into playing his playlist. The end result being Tony having songs stuck in his mind against his will. The other day, to his eternal horror, he was mumbling One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ and it was only his good fortune that prevented anyone, especially Peter, from being around him. He would’ve never heard the end of it otherwise. All alleged footage was immediately wiped, of course.

He nods in greeting to the various occupants of the Tower who were gathered around. Natasha was sitting on the counter with her legs pulled up to her chest while Barnes was rummaging through the fridge. The others--Steve, Rhodey, Sam--were sitting around the island, talking about something related to the military. He had no interest taking part in that conversation. He’s still a bit, maybe 35%, persona non grata with those people.

Instead, Tony makes a beeline straight for the coffee machine, needing a cup in his hands like, yesterday. It’s as he’s got his hand outstretched to grab his favorite mug--red and blue like another favorite something--that he hears a voice from behind him.

“Tony….”

”Yes, Freezer Burn?” He grabs the mug, pours himself some fresh brew, and turns around to face the island.

Steve ignores the name. “What’s that on your, uh, your-” He points a finger in the general direction of Tony’s chinos.

“It’s the 21st century, you can say ass, Steve,” Sam snarks.

Tony’s brows raise in surprise that he hides behind a large gulp. “What’s that on my what?”

“There’s, um, a handprint? Like, a bright pink one.” Steve’s cheeks are slightly flushed, and his eyes are darting everywhere except Tony. Who apparently has something on his derriere.

H can feel his brows raise higher and was that-

Yep. There was a slight flush rising Tony’s neck. Damn. He curses his body while someone--Natasha?--mutters “Must’ve been some hand to make the great Tony Stark blush.”

“It’s not like that! That’s- that was Dum-E. He recently discovered finger painting, Terrible Twos and all, you understand,” he tries to wave the topic away with a wave of his hand, but of course, the hounds had scented blood. They weren’t letting it go now.

“Terrible Twos,” Rhodey scoffs. “Two decades maybe. I was there when you built that thing, Tones, and besides, it’s a handprint, not a claw mark. So ‘fess up.”

Tony’s eyes darted between the assembled Avengers and the exit but just as he was contemplating the best form of distraction so he could dart away, the worst thing that could’ve happened happens.

Peter walks in.

Well, Tony amends mentally, Peter walking in isn’t the worst thing to happen. Tony's happy to see him at any given point of time, the sight of Peter’s bright smile, fluffy curls and that ridiculous bounce in his step was enough to shave a decade off his age with how light it made him feel. Even now, knowing what lay in wait for them, he could feel the way his face had softened into one of those helplessly fond smiles Peter liked to make fun of.

No, what was bad was the incriminating hot pink palms he was scrubbing at, head down and oblivious to the reactions his entrance had triggered. Sam’s brows had shot up into his hair, Rhodey had his patented ‘Tony No’ look (the one that consistently made Tony do the exact opposite, it was important to note), Steve, who hadn’t made the connection yet, was oblivious as ever - Did spankings even exist in his time? - and Natasha was silently sliding over a twenty to a triumphant Bucky. Tony's mouth falls open a little at that. Damn spies.

“God, I forgot how tedious working with acrylics was,” Peter comments while still not looking up. Tony has half a mind to take his arm and march him right back out of the room. He would’ve too, if he wasn’t living in the same building as this sorry lot that double up as spies and/or exceptionally nosy. He quickly runs the numbers in his head and the result - expected but still unwelcome - makes him sigh. There was no running away from this.

So he leans back against the kitchen counter, crosses his arms across his chest and sorely wishes he had his sunglasses on, waiting for the first person to break.

To his endless amusement, it’s Steve.

“Peter?”

“Hm?”

“Funny thing, did you know the paint on your hands is the same…color…as…” And there it was. The slow descent of realisation as Steve trails off, head bouncing rapidly between Peter's hands and Tony's backside. He was a little impressed, to be honest. He didn’t realise Cap had it in him to stare so intensely at another man’s…assets.

“Same color as?” That’s when Peter looks up, finally, and sees the myriad of expressions lining everyone’s faces. Brows furrowed in confusion, he follows Steve's gaze right to the back of Tony's light brown chinos. (God, he knew those was a bad idea. There was a reason he hadn’t worn these godforsaken things in over a decade and it was because the last time he did, the events of the evening were so thoroughly documented they still followed him around like an annoying ghost. Talk shows hosts loved bringing up 2004 for a reason.)

Peter’s eyes widen, stuck on Tony’s lower half. In any other scenario, he would’ve been very happy at this turn of events but well, he might not have seen exactly what the others had but he knew very well what it would look like. After all, Tony vividly remembered the events that led to this moment.

Peter was working on his painting in the sun room, some combination of acrylics and flowers and glitter that he wasn’t allowed to see until it was fully complete. Tony had thus been banished to the lab until that happened. An hour in, however, he had grown antsy- he didn’t do too well with instructions, after all - and had wandered down to see Peter, maybe sneak in a little something. As he’d entered the room, though, something on the low shelf to his left caught his eye and he turned around to see what it was, forgetting to call out for Peter in his haste.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a mini Iron Man model, freshly sculpted, left to dry and he was too busy imagining Peter's lean fingers, deftly manipulating clay to form this little guy to notice the man himself sneaking up on him until it was too late.

It was the loud smack - and feel - of a palm against his accidentally-pushed-out ass (he was leaning forward, okay? It was inevitable) that brought him out of his daydream with a start. He whirled around, ready to summon his gauntlet on whoever had the audacity until he saw the mischievous smile on Peter's face.

“You-” he spluttered.

“Me,” Peter agreed happily before stepping forward to close the gap between them with a sweet kiss that Tony melted into. ‘You looked so- so cute, I couldn’t resist.”

“Cute?” Tony’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t cute. He was Iron Man--destroyer of supervillains and terrifying all around.

“Yep,” Peter smirked and kissed his protests away. It was only FRIDAY’s announcement that dinner was ready that broke them apart.

“I've got to get this cleaned up first,” Peter said, pointing to his workspace with a hooked thumb. Tony looked over his shoulder to see open boxes spread out on the table, and a paint board with drying colors on it. “Save me a plate?”

“Of course, I will. Can’t have our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man starving,” he said with a wink and with one final kiss, Tony slipped out of the room.

Neither of them noticed the wet paint on Peter’s hands.

Which brings them to now.

Tony, affecting nonchalance and Peter, steadily turning red. Although, if Tony knew him - and he did, there was no doubt about that - then it was less to do with their unexpected reveal and more to do with, quite literally, being caught red (pink?) handed. Funny, he still had some shame that Tony hadn’t gotten rid of yet.

“You- he- when- wha-” Steve stutters, eyes wide as saucers and that, more than anything, soothes Tony's frayed nerves. Because Cap's conservative sensibilities were familiar ground.

“We use complete sentences in this household, Steve-o,” Tony smirks. Steve straightens up, back straight and voice stern. Ah. Steve Rogers is out and Captain America is in.

“Tony. What is the meaning of this?”

The rest of their teammates perk up, wisely staying away but not far enough to miss the drama. Bunch of vultures, the lot of them, Tony thinks fondly.

“The meaning of what, Steve?” he asks, blinking innocently.

“You know what I mean,”

“I’m sure I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Tony challenges with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why was Peter's hand on your- on your body?”

”Oh my god,’ Peter mutters from the side. “I never thought this would be how we get caught.”

“And to think it was you!’ Tony crows triumphantly, pointing a finger towards him. “Take that, FRIDAY!’ He points a finger at her nearest camera. If she thinks he’d forgotten how easily she took Peter's side the one time they’d discussed going public, she had another thing coming. Both of them were convinced it would be Tony doing something that would give them away but this was a twist neither had seen coming and he was going to milk it for all it was worth.

“I- no one could have seen this coming, Tony!’ Peter argues. “It’s so stupid.”

“Which is what makes it so much better.”

“Okay, no, wait a second,” Steve cuts in again. Truly, patience personified, that man. “What is going on here?”

Peter sighs, half rolling his eyes in frustration. “I’d have thought it was obvious, Cap. Tony and I are dating. Hence, the-” He waves his hand in the general direction of Tony's lower half.

The confirmation, to no one’s surprise, doesn’t actually take the wind out of Steve's sails. If anything, it only fires him up some more.

“But you’re- you’re so young, practically a child! Tony’s…he’s—”

“Capsicle, please tell me that you, of all people, are not about to call me old right now,’ Tony warns. This entire debacle was amusing, much more than if they’d come out the normal way, but he was not willing to put up with any slights, and definitely not from the frozen relic of all people.

“That's not the same thing!” Steve slams his hand down on the counter, and Tony's flinch is what spurs Peter into protective action. He steps in front of the man, arms crossed.

“I'm not in the mood for moral judgement from a man that had to trick his way into the army,’ he says, coldly. “I’m sure you understand.” The others, who were used to the happy-go-lucky Peter and never so much as seen him annoyed, were startled by the sudden change. But Tony wasn't. He'd seen, firsthand, how protective Peter was when it came to his loved ones. It was beyond his unending privilege that he was now part of that list.

“Besides,” Rhodey steps in when the silence stretches a little too long, clearly trying to diffuse the tension, “Peter can throw a bus with his bare hands, Steve. You really think he can be forced into anything?”

Steve clearly disagreed because Tony could see his mouth opening, no doubt another rebuttal, something something age and power and reputation. Before he could, though, Peter - who was clearly done with the conversation - clapped a hand on his shoulder. Tony winced slightly at the loud sound, wondering how much that must’ve hurt.

“Besides, Steve,” Peter says slyly, “Look at that ass and tell me you wouldn’t if you had half the chance.”

The blush on Tony's neck deepened and Sam bursts out in laughter, effectively cutting through the tense moment. Steve looks at Peter, the ‘You really wanna try me?’ look on his face, then over at Tony who was standing loose limbed and extremely unconcerned before sighing in defeat. This was not a fight he’d win.

Peter pats Steve's shoulder with a triumphant smile before walking over to Tony, and immediately aiming a light smack on the exact same place as before.

“At least we don’t have to hide it now,” he winks.

“No, please do,” Rhodey leans forward- tony no- a note of desperation in his voice. “None of us want to see this.”

Tony’s answering laughter is swallowed by Peter's lips descending on him. Distantly, he thinks--someone else doing what Rhodey expressly said not to—he didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky.

#peter parker #tony stark #ironspider #relationship reveal #first time posting on here!!!#just the idea of tony walking around with a huge handprint on his ass is hilarious to me #imagine he goes thru all his work none-the-wiser #because friday is a little shit and doesn’t tell him #and when he finds out it’s just like *long slow blink*#peter loses himself to a massive case of the giggles #anyway steve is a bit of an ass here bc we want an antagonist (ง’̀-‘́)ง but also just the conservative vibe works for him #and his self righteous ass. but hey peter takes care of him so we’re all good #after this—these two play it up in front of him just to see the blush on his face #pro is writing #if u saw the first draft with jarvis no u didn’t :)

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whore-era · 1 year

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1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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princessbrunette · 1 month

Note

now how will team mascot jj approach u … elaborate

╭────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╮

so mascot!jj isn’t exactly a nerd, not by any extension of the meaning. infact, he’s a social butterfly, a novelty — people know him as the mascot guy and no one could ever replace him, the way he’ll run onto the field mid game and hype the audience up, somehow knowing the moves and joining the cheerleaders in some dances all whilst geared up in a giant tiger costume with the university’s logo on its colourful tshirt. the people liked him a lot.

you’re the shy cheerleader, and jj loves shy girls. he’s the opposite of shy, so it just makes his dick tingle a little. he approaches you after every game, hair sweaty and stuck up in unusual places with the head of his mascot costume tucked under his arm, cheeks all pink. you think he’s cute, in a cool yet dorky way. after a particularly great win, jj is quick across the field to see you. he’s of course bombarded with the barrage of cheerleaders who think he is ‘adorable’, kissing his cheek and ruffling his sweaty hair— because everyone loves the mascot guy.

“alright, alright, let me through ladies.” he chuckles awkwardly, peeling them off him as they aw, embarrassing him slightly. he waddles over to you with a bashful smile, trying to switch his game back on. “really shook those pom poms out there, girl.” he praises, cringing at himself.

“huh?” you giggle, eyes twinkling up at him— which didn’t help him much in getting back on track.

“yeah— uh, nah what i meant to say was you were… great, like dude — when you did that cartwheel? you killed that shit!” he celebrates and you beam, shaking your head humbly.

“really? thank you— i mean i thought it was a little shaky but…”

“you kiddin’ me? you were amazing, and — well,” he gestures to you with his giant paw. “you look amazing. really, like you’re gorgeous.”

you get shy, clasping your hands at your front as you shrug. “thank you j—”

the conversation is interrupted by the football team passing through— a kaleidoscope of jersey colours bursting through between the two of you until rafe cameron himself has arrived, looping you into a hug to celebrate his big win. jj’s face flattens in annoyance before scrunching up awkwardly, looking around and waiting for him to be done.

rafe glances at jj when he pulls away, keeping a hand on your waist. “lets get out of here, alright? too many nobodies.”

jj clears his throat. “yeah, uh— was kinda havin’ a conversation bro but whatever i guess. congrats.” he sarks, irritated making rafe turn back around, eyeing him up.

“oh, well — i’m really sorry about that tony the tiger.” rafe feigns innocence before bursting into a boyish chuckle, making the players around him laugh too. your brows furrow, going to say something but rafe drags you away, leaving you to twist in his grasp and give the blonde a polite parting wave. jj lifts his arm unenthusiastically in his own wave farewell, lips pressed together.

he’s sure he’ll get you alone another day.

╰────── · · ౨ৎ · · ──────╯

#anon #mascot!jj #fratboy!rafe #uni!au #jj maybank prompt

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montcumbry-gaytor · 1 year

Note

Could you do the baby got back ask with the marvel men

This ass can be put to great use, and so can theirs 🤭🤭🤭

(plz include Steve, tony, Bucky, Thor… etc 🤭)

Anaconda

Marvel Men with a Reader with a big ass <3

• TONY "IRON MAN" STARK

No doubt slaps your ass, Maybe grabs it

Slapped it once with his little portable iron man hand thing and it bruised

Badly.

He kissed it better

He specifically has a chair for u and it has subtle divots of ur ass

He wants to make bowls from the shape of ur asscheek

Has slapped ur ass in while coming into a meeting room

No shame

• STEVE "CAPTAIN AMERICA" ROGERS

This boy is tall.

Like his pelvis meets with ur lower back.

He thinks ur the perfect size to come up behind cause his titties rest on your shoulders

Runs his hands on your waist and then Squeezes that shit

From how fuckin rough he is he demolishes ur ass

There will be bruises.

When ur laying down he kisses ur butt where he left bruises and apologizes

genuinely feels bad that he's insanely rough

• THOR ODINSON

He worships your ass

Has never seen anything like it

He has his hands all over it cause like.. it's not taboo to show affection in Asgard

He likes eating ur ass

"A gift from Venus no doubt"

Definitely carries u

"A man as well looking as you shouldn't be walking."

Thinks ur living, breathing, ethereal royalty

• LOKI LAUFEYSON

Won't deny how smitten he is about it

Is a starer and will gaslight his way into not being caught

Hand accidentally brushes it while walking beside you?

Definitely ruins him

He wants you to bounce your ass on him like no tommorow

You in a suit?

He fainted, literally.

Thor laughed at him for days.

• JAMES "BUCKY" BARNES

Will grab the waistband of your pants / underwear and jus-

sNAP THEM SHIT

Very touchy behind closed doors

Doesn't like showing PDA

Will deadass grovel to his knees and kiss it

If he's feeling like a BITCH he will bite it

No hesitation

If u pull his hair and tell him off about it he totally gets off on it

• DR. STEPHEN "DOCTOR "STRANGE

This man is a magician and previously a Neurosurgeon

Skilled with his hands

Literally up to no good,

Cannot bend over with him ANYWHERE near u

Even then u cannot trust him to not slip his hand thru a portal and f with u

Knows you love it

"It was the cloak"

The cloak proceeded to try and choke him out.

It was not happy

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kisses4lao · 5 months

Note

discreetly glances around like this is a back alley deal ... can u write a pussy drunk johnny cage for like his favorite reporter (reader) that plays hard to get from rejecting dates 'n invitations here 'n there to mess with him... u can start it however u want !! but i would like the scene from iron man where the reporter/christine asks tony "you ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?" and he replies with "i'd be prepared to lose a few with you." if u can put that in... /nf (ur welcome to say no to this + take ur time miss ^^'' have a lovely day now sweats 'n scurries away)

What good is all the fame if you ain't fuckin' the models?

I see you drivin' SPORTS CARS, ain't hittin' the throttle

And I'll be down to do a hundred, top down and goggles

Tw/cw: AFAB reader, no use of y/n just Johnny calling reader princess, overstimulation, dacryfilia if you squint, breeding kink, reader being a little shit, dirty talk but not really, praise, cunnilingus, pussy drunk Johnny

Not proofread don't act surprised you knew it was coming

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken a while for you to finally accept the fact that Johnny, the man you were documenting constantly, had a crush on you. His consistent naggings of dates and expensive gifts all for you were more than enough to get your heart racing, it just never felt right to go out with him.

You'd gone out with other men before, you'd kissed other men, but everything felt different with him. He was more compassionate despite his status, and he truly cares about you, but it was wrong. All of it was wrong.

There were women who were begging for Johnny to even look at them, yet he only had eyes for you. He would consistently give you raises and promote you to his manager after a good while, but you remained a reporter. Even after expressing nothing but love to you, you didn't let him have you easily.

Once you came to terms with the fact that THE Johnny Cage was in love with you, you decided to play hard to get. He could get anybody he ever wanted, and he wanted you. You weren't going to make this easy on him, especially if he was that down bad for you.

Well apparently, he was more than just down bad. He was down horrendous, to the point he asked you multiple times to move in with him. "C'mon!! We'll be like roomies! It'll be soooo fun!" But you insisted on not doing that, for obvious reasons.

He'd been pinning on you for more than a while now, and you had really been testing his patience the entire time. From consistently turning down dates and invitations to huge house parties, to wearing small skirts to interviews with him.

You haven't tried making your attraction to him, especially as if late. You started staying at his house more for work related things, crashing on his couch in the early hours of the morning. Whenever you'd come over, you would wear small tight skirts and open blouses, both things you knew he loved.

One night, Johnny decided he'd treat you to something. He'd just gotten back from a trip to Italy and brought back a bottle of wine, and it just so happened to be one of your favorites. He poured you both a small glass, you both took a sip of it before placing it down on the table next to you.

You'd been sitting on his couch for a while, going over work materials for an up and coming interview. He'd decided to sit down with you and have a small conversation, but it was obvious too him that work was more important for right now.

"'Your newest movies are doing awesome, Johnny! We're making lots in the box office, how do you feel about your up and coming role?' There, does that sound believable?" You asked as you skim over your notes again.

"Add a little more flare. Get the audience going a little more, and at least try and act like you want to be there." Johnny and you both left out a small laugh as you continue with your work. You could feel his eyes on you, like they were watching every small move you made. In a way, they were. Johnny loved to observe every part of you, the way you hold your notebook, the way you write, the way you knit your eyebrows together as you're focused on writing, it was all perfect to him.

"You know," he started, getting your attention as you looked up. "It's still pretty early in the evening, why don't I take you out for dinner? You've been working really hard lately, and I can get us registrations at the top restaurants in the city, no problem. You down?"

Not this again. You internally sigh before finally answering. "Cage, you know I don't want to go out with you." Liar. "You can have any girl ever, I promise there's better out there." Now you're self pitying? You suck.

"There's not a single other person I'd rather be with. Not a single other person has made me feel the way you do, you know this, you just like this little cat and mouse game we play." Busted. Your eyes widened as he continued, "I've been watching your reactions, your body language, even the way you dress. Youre playing hard to get, yet your body and heart knows what it wants."

"You're a busy guy. You need those precious hours of sleep that id be taking away."

"I'd be more than happy to lose those hours if it meant I could be with you."

That was it. That froze you. Oh God, were your true colors actually showing through? Was your attraction to your boss coming to light? Oh God, this can't be happening, why are you feeling things You've never felt before?? What's this feeling in your stomach? Why is your body temperature rising?

"C'mon princess, let me treat you right, just for tonight. If you don't like it, no more. If you do, you know I'll give it to you anytime you want." He gave you a small smirk and got up from the couch, holding his hand out for you to take.

You glanced at his open hand, then him, then to the floor. You weren't experienced much in relationships, let alone sex. How could you ever pleasure him if you couldn't even pleasure yourself? Oh well, nows a good time to get cocky for the last time of the night. "I thought you wanted to take me out for dinner. What happened to being a gentleman?"

"I'll show you just how much of a gentleman I can be. As for dinner, I'm hungry for something else. No pressure princess, remember that." He gives you a reassuring smile before holding out his hand again.

Going over your options one last time, if you were going to be honest with yourself, you wanted him. Badly. And he knew that. "Ah, what the hell?" You say, getting yo and grabbing his hand. He smiles and places a gentle kiss on the back of your hand before leading you to his bedroom.

It's huge, obviously, but it has a huge bed too. Full of the highest grade blankets you could only dream of being able to afford. "Make yourself at home princess, what's mine is yours now. I mean it." He says as he pulls you in for a small kiss. It was passionate and soft, but short enough for you to want more.

"Do you want me to get undressed first? May alleviate some anxiety. I'm willing to do whatever you want, anything to make you comfortable."

You blush as you look away from him. You genuinely couldn't believe this was actually happening, something that youve wanted so badly that, in retrospect, you could've gotten so much earlier if you wouldn't have been so hard to get, was actually happening.

"Hey, princess, if you don't want to do this we don't have to." He was purposely making this obvious in an attempt to comfort you. Of course you wanted this, more than anything, but you just didn't know how to initiate.

Johnny knew you weren't experienced in the department, you've told him about how you've just never been interested in it. However, you've told him that you were attracted to him multiple times, playing this game with him just to see which one of you would break first. With this, he knew you liked him in that sense.

He could tell by the fact that you were avoiding eye contact that you were nervous. He took your hands in his, rubbing small circles on the back before kissing each hand. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, please." Before he continued, he got down on one knee, looking up at you, your hands still in his. "You can back out at any time. I promise you'll feel amazing."

You let out a playful sigh, "Fine. But, we need a safe word, just in case."

"Jupiter."

"I was gonna say pineapple, but that works, too." Johnny laughs at your response before standing up. He kissed you on the forehead before leading you to his bed.

He guided you to sit as he crouched down, locking you in another kiss. He nipped slightly at your lower lip before letting his tongue inside your mouth. He was exploring your mouth entirely, getting more turned on by your soft whimpers by the minute. He slowly took off your skirt as he played with the hem of your panties.

Once he finally slid the fabric off, he discarded it, along with your skirt. He pulled away from the kiss as a string of saliva followed. He smiled at how pink your cheeks were and your now plump lips.

"Just relax, alright? I've got everything under control." You slowly nod as you lean back on the bed, your dangling legs making their way to rest on Johnny's shoulders. He began by placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, groaning at simply just the scent.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." He smiles before he spreads your folds with his two fingers, flattening his tongue and running it through your now exposed pussy.

You moan loudly, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as he continued his movements. He dipped his tongue into your tight hole before moving to your clit. One of his hands left your thigh and moved to settle in front of your face. His fingers spread your lips and he inserted his middle and ring finger into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his fingers, coating them in saliva before he took them out of your mouth and slowly inserted one inside of your hole. You groan slightly at the pain before it quickly turns into pleasure. His tongue was flicking your clit around before he placed his entire mouth on it, settling on sucking on it while he curled his finger inside you.

He began to add another finger inside you, kissing your thighs again as you groaned out of pain again. "J-Johnny- it hurts-"

"I know princess, I know. You're doing so good for me, just a little longer, alright?" He looked up at you and you nodded in response. "Such a tight pussy, all for me? You shouldn't have." He laughed again as he began to suck more on your clit, grazing his teeth over the nerve slightly.

Once his second finger was fully inside, he began scissoring them inside you. Your moans of pleasure and the soft tugging on his hair were making him go crazy. He sped up his pace, trying to make you cum as quickly as possible.

His nips at your clit and scissoring fingers inside your pussy were sending you over the edge. Your aching hole would clench down on him are your back began to arch. Johnny became enthralled by the scene unfolding in front of him, your blouse half way unbuttoned as your breasts rose up and down with each breath, you changing his name continuously as thighs began to close around his head, it was perfect to him and he couldn't get enough of it.

He lapped at your pussy like a starved man and began to feel lightheaded over the taste. To him, everything was worth the wait, and he doesn't know how he can live without you after this. When you came, he couldn't be more excited to lick up every drop of your essence you gave to him.

He ok pulled his fingers out of your pussy, sucking on them as his eyes rolled into the back of his head over the taste. Once he finished cleaning his fingers off, he moaned simply at the look of your gaping hole spilling out cum, just for him to clean up.

He held you down by the waist, as he lapped at your juices. He made a mess of himself and you and he couldn't care less. He feels like he can cum right now just by the taste alone, he was genuinely addicted to your now aching heat. Your hands flew to his head, attempting to push him off because of your over overstimulation.

"Johnny- no more- please no more-" you began to cry over how good you felt. The sight of tears falling from your face made Johnny immediately get up, begrudgingly, however. "Wanna feel you inside Johnny.." you look up at him with eyes he simply can't resist, and he just sighs.

"Fine fine, but I get to eat you out again in the morning." You smile and nod as he begins to undress himself. You take this opportunity to take the rest of your clothes off and get on the bed completely. Johnny climbs on the bed completely as he guides your head to lay on one of his many pillows.

He climbs between your thighs as he takes off his boxers, clenching his jaw and moaning slightly at the feeling of it finally being out. Your eyes widened as you look up at him. "Is.. that going to fit?" You say with worry.

Johnny smiles at you, but in reality he's also worried about it. "It may take a bit for you to get used to the size, but I'm more than willing to wait." He leans in and places a small peck on your lips before putting one hand on your waist while the other hand aligned his cock with your hole.

He looked up at you again. "Ready?" Giving him a nod yes, he positions himself to hover on top of you, letting you latch onto him for stability. He slowly lets his cock enter you, one inch at a time.

Moans from both of you fill the room as he finally bottoms out. He smiles and looks at you from below him. "I knew you could do it." You smile back as he continues talking.

"I think maybe you should stay over tonight, when we wake up tomorrow, I'll make breakfast. How's chocolate chip pancakes sound?"

"Sounds great, Johnny." You give him a small and he kisses you again. This time, it's full of lust and love. Your hands move to cup his face and he leans into the touch. The kiss lasts a few minutes before you slowly pull away, looking at him then speaking. "I'm ready."

He kissed you once more and began to move. Your hands move to his back, holding onto him as he slowly thrusts into you. "Faster Johnny." The way you say his name has blood shooting straight to his cock and he picks up his pace.

His thrusts become fast enough for you to be comfortable with. Your fingers raked on his back as small beads of blood formed at your fingernails. He went slightly faster and it became nothing but pure bliss.

"Such a good pussy, god I could do this forever and not get bored." Johnnys grip on your waist tightens as his thrusts become faster than what you can keep up with. "All mine. That's what you are, all mine. I'm gonna fuck you so good all you can think about is me."

You began to claw at his back desperate for a release. Your tongue lolling out of your mouth as all you could do is take what he gave you. The pleasure washing over you was becoming too much to bare and you started clenching on his cock.

"Fuck princess- you want me to cum inside you? I'll do it. I'll breed this pussy day and night as long as you let me." He can feel himself getting close as his thrusts became sloppier.

You nod yes in response and he lets out a loud moan followed by both of your orgasms. He stops his motions as his breath became heavy. "One more round. Please- one more round. I need to feel you. I know you can take it."

You look up at him and smile through tired eyes. You nod again and with that, he was back to his harsh pace. You screamed his name as tears formed at your eyes again. Johnny bent down to kiss them away, increasing his pace as he did.

"God you take me so well. You're the only woman that can make me feel like this, I need you so fucking bad." He collapsed into your neck with another groan as he came again, accidentally overstimulating himself in the process. You both catch your breath as you hug onto him.

He reciprocates this and wraps his arms around your waist, placing playful kisses on your face. You giggle as he does and he can feel his heart completely melt. He stands up and is about to walk to the bathroom to get a cloth before he feels you grip his wrist.

"Stay, please. It can wait till the morning."

He smiles and gets back into bed with you. He places even more kisses over you and you bury your face in his chest, ready to sleep. "Will you finally go out for dinner with me?"

"I'll think about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: the day I'm known as the writer of that one specific fanfic is the day I can rest in peace

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x reader smut #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x reader smut #johnny cage smut #mk smut

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sailorkamino · 2 years

Text

Chaotic

chaos in us masterlist | moodboard

relationships: steven grant x avenger!witch!reader, future marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader [gender neutral]

word count: 2.3k

summary: When you move to London you aren't expecting to fall in love. You also aren't expecting an Egyptian god who kind of sounds like Darth Vader to crash your date but that's just your life apparently.

warnings: reader assaults khonshu with bread, enemies to friends w/ khonshu, big bird is kinda rude to steven but u put him in place

a/n: reader uses chaos magic and is also psychic, f/c = favorite color, steven/marc/jake are moon knight but lets pretends the whole harrow/armpit drama hasn't happened yet, thanos never happened bc i said so

Before you even met Steven, you felt him.

That sounds odd but your abilities make you constantly aware of others, which can be a lot. Especially in such a bustling city like London. Of course you didn’t read his mind or anything. It’s a common misconception that telepaths just love to read minds but that’s not true. You only use it on enemies for information, if you just went around listening to people's inner thoughts you’d probably drive yourself mad. People are weird.

All that being said, you decided to go to the London museum, thinking it would be quiet and relaxing. A nice little escape. You didn’t think how overwhelming it would be to be surrounded by history, invading your senses with centuries of stories. Mostly fucked up stories because colonialism. After years of studying magic your mind is like a fortress, but that didn’t stop the artifacts from banging on your mental door. You’re incredibly grateful that you’re able to control your visions now. You do not want to see all this shit first hand.

You manage to stumble into the gift shop, one hand rubbing your temple in an attempt to ward off the coming headache. You sense some kind of power, something looming and ancient. You wonder if it’s from the Egyptian wing you just walked through but this feels more… recent. It’s an odd sensation that isn’t helping your overwhelmed mind at all.

“Are you alright?” A gentle voice acts. Apparently you aren’t doing great at hiding your discomfort. You look up to meet the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, framed with dark eye bags. He's absolutely beautiful. Like a sleep deprived male model. Before you can answer you find yourself stumbling, dots swimming in your vision. He quickly leaves the counter to grasp your arm with large, gentle hands.

His touch burns through your designer coat (a parting gift from Tony Stark) but not in a bad way. His energy is unique. Divided but whole. Chaotic but reassuring. “I’m fine, just a dizzy spell.” You mumble, trying not to lean into his body. Would it be manipulative if you pretended to faint so he would catch you? No, you’re better than that. Barely.

“You sure? Maybe you should sit down. I could get you a drink, or a snack.”

You should tell him that you’re fine but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. He’s just so genuine. And look at that hair... would it be weird to touch it? You suppress the urge, managing a polite response, “that sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. I think I just need some fresh air.”

“Don’t worry, my boss is always telling me to be more helpful with customers. Lets get you outside, yeah?”

You grin, lidded eyes flicking to his name tag, “thank you, Steven. That’s very kind of you.”

He flashes the sweetest smile you’ve ever witnessed, making you even more light headed. He keeps his grasp on your arm as he leads you to the exit. You can already feel your mind clearing thanks to the distance between you and the artifacts. Once you’re safely leaning against the wall Steven speaks up, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere."

You can't help but dopily grin as he speed walks away. Within a minute he’s back by your side. He presents you a bag of scarab gummies, “here you are.” He pauses for a moment before adding, "I don’t know why we sell these, they weren’t eating stuff like that in Ancient Egypt, were they?

“Thank you.” You smile, finding his rambling adorable. You try not to react when you take the candy from him and his calloused fingers brush your own. “I’m also realizing I never introduced myself, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. That’s a pretty name.”

Before you can stop yourself you mutter under your breath, “you’re prettier.” You watch in horror as he tenses up, ears burning red. “I-I think you’re pretty too. Beautiful, more like it,” he fumbles. Suddenly the gummies are out of your hand. You look down to see them floating above your palms, surrounded by a F/C glow. You quickly snatch them from mid air. Luckily Steven is too busy staring at his shoes in embarrassment to notice.

You clear your throat nervously, catching his attention. “So, do you like working here?” Really? That’s the best you could come up with. You mentally facepalm as he nods like a rather adorable bobblehead. “Oh yeah, I love history. It would be nice to be a tour guide though. Maybe one day, right?”

You hum in response, shoving some sweets in your mouth before you can ask any other dumb questions. “Do you, um, like your job?” He asks politely.

You pause. So he really doesn’t recgonize you. Not that you consider yourself famous but ever since you joined the Avengers on a few missions you found yourself thrust in the public eye. You meet a lot of fans but people also tend to be… wary of you. Apparently being one of the most powerful magic users on Earth makes them uneasy.

“I work… in security.” That’s technically not a lie. “It can be stressful but I get to travel a lot so that’s fun.”

“Have you ever been to Egypt?”

The childlike excitement in his voice is absolutely adorable. “A few times, yeah. What about you?”

“No, I wish. I’d love to go someday.” He sighs wistfully. “Enough about me though, are you feeling any better.”

His concern makes your heart flutter. “Much.” You grin, shuffling your bag on your shoulder to look for your wallet. “How much were the gummies?”

“They were only a few pounds, don’t worry about it.”

Thoughtful, gorgeous, and polite? You’re convinced Steven was written by a woman. You bite your lip in a way you hope looks flirty. “Well I need to pay you back somehow. What about lunch?”

He freezes, looking at you incredulously. “Are you… asking me out?” Any confidence you had starts to shatter. “I’m trying,” you mumble embarrassed. He shakes his head vehmently, “no, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just surprised! I mean, you’re so beautiful!”

You smile so big your cheeks hurt. “I think you’re beautiful too, Steven.”

His tan cheeks flame. “Thank you.”

“Can I have your number?”

He nods enthusiastically. You pull out your phone and type in his digits as he tells them to you. “I left my phone in the gift shop but I’ll text you as soon I get inside,” he promises, rocking on the balls of his feet. You grin as you send him a message.

“Stevie!”

A loud, feminine voice makes you both flinch. An aggravated woman pokes her head out the door, popping her chewing gum far too loudly for your liking. “What are you doing out- wait. Are you Y/N L/N?”

Steven looks at you in confusion as you nod with a charming smile. You can tell that she’s Steven’s superior and decide to help him out. “I am. What’s your name, hon?”

“Donna! I’m a big fan. It was so mental when you closed that portal to hell in New Jersey!”

Steven’s eyes become impossibly wider. “Yeah, that was a difficult one.” You reminisce fondly. “Would you like a picture?”

She nods excitedly, pulling out her phone. You take a selfie, trying not to chuckle at her excited gasp when you sling an arm around here. You try to ignore Steven’s bewildered gaze. Hopefully what you’re about to do will make up for your little fib.

“You know Steven here has been very helpful,” you muse after she clicks the photo. She looks at you surprised. You can already tell she doesn’t particularly like the man (which is quite bewildering to you, how is it possible to dislike Steven?)

"Really?”

You nod with an affirmative hum. “I bet he’s your best tour guide, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he actually works in the giftshop.”

You feign shock. “Really? I was hoping he could give me a private tour sometime,” you pout sadly. Donna hurries to comfort you, “oh, he can do that! I’ve been meaning to promote him anways!”

“That’s great!” You grin, turning your attention back to a very confused brunet. “I’ve gotta go but I’ll be looking forward to seeing you, Steven,” you purr, lightly squeezing his (suprisingly muscular) bicep. He nods dumbly watching you walk down the steps.

“Oi, what were you doing with a bloody superhero?” Donna asks him incredulously, the jealousy clear in her voice.

“Planning a date.” He breathes out softly, still wondering if the interaction was just a dream.

____

It’s the day of your date and Steven is ecsatic. Marc and Jake are not. They agree you’re beautiful but are very against the idea of going out with an Avenger, saying it will get in the way of their ‘business’ with Khonshu. But Steven is tired of letting that bloody pigeon influence his life so he ignores all of them, puts on his favorite jumper, and goes to the closest florist shop.

And that’s how he finds himself standing infront of you with a boquet of sunflowers.“These are just beautiful!” You gush, pressing a kiss againt his cheek as you take them. He flushes adorably. You do a quick scan around the park to make sure no one is looking before conjuring a vase with water. Did you do it just to show off? Yes. Yes you did.

You place the flowers in the middle of the picnic blanket. “Now we have a centerpiece,” you hum happily, grabbing the wicker basket you brought. He sits across from you, watching in awe as you pull a variety of noodles, dumplings, rice, and tofu dishes out. Like clowns coming out of a little car.

“Try this,” you offer, handing him one of the containers. “And don’t worry, it’s all vegan.”

He opens it to reveal ball shaped food he recognizes as dim sum. He uses the provided chopsticks to pop one into his mouth, moaning at the combination of steamed vegetables and rich seasoning.

“This is amazing!” You grin in response, working on your own fruit and tofu skewer. “That’s because it’s the real deal. I went on a little trip to Hong Kong this morning.”

He pauses mid bite, resembling a confused chipmunk. You snicker. “I can teleport, remember?” You point at his empty cup, feeling it with juice. “Maybe on our next date I can take you to Egypt?”

He inhales the dimsum in shock, choking loudly. You use your powers to pull the food out of Steven’s throat, looking at him in concern. He quickly swallows the drink you made him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, aces. Just got a bit too excited.”

“You’re adorable, Steven.”

As the date goes on you open up to each other. He tells you about his DID, which you could somewhat sense already. His mind felt different but you couldn’t put a finger on it. You tell him about how you struggled to control your powers and accept yourself. You used to feel like a weapon but you learnt that weapons aren’t always a bad thing, they can be used to protect others. Instead of a nuclear bomb you started seeing yourself as a shield.

For once Steven doesn’t feel like an outsider. He wants to tell you about Moon Knight. He knows you won’t judge him. Just as he begans to build up the courage a booming, gravelly voice rattles in his head.

“Don’t tell them anything, worm!”

You both flinch. A shiver runs through you as your hair stands on end. All your instincts are telling you to get ready for a fight. That sense of ancient power you felt in the museum is back tenfold. “Did you hear that?” You ask Steven.

He looks at you in complete shock. “What?”

“Can the witch hear me?”

“Okay, where is that Darth Vader voice coming from?” You groan, eyes glowing F/C. Your powers mean you’re always aware of your surroundings, you don’t like this sudden uncertainty. Especially not when Steven is at risk.

Suddenly a large mummified being with a bird skull appears behind your date. Because this is what your life has come to apparently. “Can you see me, witch?” Without saying anything you use your abilities to send a roll flying, hitting him square in the beak. He flinches back in surprise. Steven watches on, not knowing if he should laugh or shake in fear. Maybe both.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask sassily. “You’re some kind of deity right? I’m getting Egyptian vibes,” you muse outloud. Despite having no real facial features he manages to look unimpressed. “I thought you had magic, yet you can’t figure out who I am, little one?"

You squint at him for a moment, reaching out your consciousness. “Khonshu? I think I’ll call you cashew.”

“You will not!” He bellows. Poor Steven flinches at the volume but you just purse your lips. “It’s not fun being called stupid nicknames, is it?”

He pauses, tilting his skeletal head at you. “Excuse me?”

“You called Steven a worm. That was very rude,” you huff protectively. “You should really treat your avatar better.”

“You know about avatars?”

“Magic, babe,” you remind, wiggling your fingers as sparks dance between them. “I want to be in Steven's life, and his alter’s if they’ll have me. We’ll be spending time together so we might as well get along, don’t you agree?”

The god nods reluctantly. “I suppose.”

“Good,” you beam up at him. “But if you ever disrespect Steven again we will have words,” you promise in a sickly sweet voice.

Steven looks at you in absolute awe. ‘I changed my mind. I like them,’ Marc speaks in his head. ‘That was fucking hot,’ Jake adds on helpfully. For once the system agrees on something.

____

taglist: @jallerentrags @huitzilinthebudgie3 @wintergirlsoilder2 @dreamerkim @jupitersmoon167 @n1ght5h4d3-24 @darkened-writer @sunipostsstuff @bex-tk1 @musicconversedance @nemtodd-barnes1923 @thegotfangirl @your-frenly-emo-rat @dadstarkblacksoul @certifiedhunter @tagakalat @galactic-galabee @yoongiwithglasses @theyaremorethanjustfictional @booksandbenbarnes @faefanatic @ness-is-vanillabean @lovesickollie @kemisuu @missdragon-1 @ristare @jck-r @brekkers-desigirl

if ur name is highlighted i couldn't tag u :(

a/n #2: i've never had such a long taglist! thank you for giving my work so much love before i even posted it🥹

#steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant fluff #moon knight fluff #platonic khonshu #khonshu x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x witch!reader #steven grant x avenger!reader #marc spector x witch!reader #marc spector x avenger!reader #jake lockley x witch!reader #chaos in us #moon knight #moon boys

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twiixr4kidz · 5 months

Note

wut music do u think the evil exes would listen to?? (spto specifically lolz)

IM GLAD U ASKED HELLO?????? if there's one ting i love more than scent headcanons, IT'S MUSIC HEADCANONS.

matthew patel:

HE'S A FUCKING EMO!!!!!! LOOK AT HIM!!!!!!

loves my chemical romance

other favorite bands are the used, saosin, n chiodos

he probably listens to sea shanties too LMFAOAOA

lucas lee:

he's a little hard to pinpoint..........

i feel like he doesn't listen to music that often?? something about being too busy with movies or hanging out with gordon goose............

play any of the tony hawk game soundtracks for him and he'll be chillin in no time

todd ingram:

definitely likes harder music

i can see him listening to rammstein honestly

also probably likes shitty dad rock

seether, skillet, three days grace, HE PROBABLY LISTENS TO NICKLEBACK TOO OK I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

roxie richter:

ANOTHER EMO OMG!!!!!!

she's very much a pierce the veil emo

i feel like she listens to a lot of emo bands that toe the line of being scene

sleeping with sirens, snow white's poison bite.............

ok maybe im projecting but she listens to D.R.U.G.S.

kyle katayanagi:

obviously loves electronic music

i feel like he'd fucking with breathe carolina

also likes a lot of rave music

and i can see him listening to limp bizkit but just chocolate starfish and hot dog flavored water, none of their other albums

ken katayanagi:

similarly to kyle, he loves electronic music

definitely anything edm-y

probably likes lofi shit too honestly

n for some reason i can see him as the kind of guy who appreciates classical music on another level

gideon graves:

he's really hard to place LMFAO

i feel like he'd fuck with weezer and radiohead

but at the same time, he KNOWS music

definitely listens to a little bit of everything

#matthew patel #lucas lee #todd ingram #roxie richter #kyle katayanagi #ken katayanagi #gideon graves #gordon goose #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #spvtw #scott pilgrim takes off #spto

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stxrvel · 3 months

Text

i don't wanna live forever (2)

summary: you and Steve share some time together after so much time apart, and you finally start getting closer to your goal back in Europe after so many years

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warning: just some bad words

note: hey guys! hope u guys like this part! we're getting close to the mythic winter soldier >:). i'll try to edit and publish next part tomorrow after work. i'm close to finish this fic, probably will be 6-7 chapters. so i'll see you around, thank you for the support <3

part 1 ; part 3 ; part 4

You thought having Steve back would make things better. Not that they were any worse, but there couldn't have been a worse time to go through a goddamn alien invasion.

“Holy shit,” you spoke into the air, but Steve at your side elbowed you, hearing you clearly, his scowl meeting you amidst the masses of air. “Are you seeing what I see?”

“Do you have to say it like that?“

“Ah, poor, right Steve. God save him from hearing a bad word because a little star on his suit will die,” Tony Stark walked past you, catching up to overhear the conversation, teasing you with a smirk on his face. You tensed as he passed behind you, shaking your head to avoid his gaze, earning you a confused look from Steve.

Tony continued on his way, currently accustomed to you not even glancing his way when they were in the same place. His suit was almost completely shredded, an unfamiliar feeling of dread coursing through you from the pit of your stomach until you felt the heartburn in the back of your throat bother you. Ever since you saw on the news that he was proclaimed Ironman, that feeling of dread had been with you every time you saw him. You knew why, but you didn't want to give voice to those thoughts…

“For a person who's lived this many years, you're pretty bad at dissembling,” Steve spoke again as Tony disappeared down the hallway and you shook your head shutting him up, refocusing on what was important. “I can't believe I crashed a plane into the Arctic just to get this thing back to the surface before me.”

“Well, it'll be in good hands now,” you nodded in the direction of the approaching Norse god, his walk a bit overbearing as he dedicated sidelong glances at them as he approached the scepter of Loki, his brother.

“If you're done admiring it, time to go.”

Steve moved in the direction of the elevator, waving his hand for you to join him, but you shook your head in refusal and pointed him to the stairs. Your friend didn't read too much into your gesture, lifting a shoulder and resuming his walk to where the rest of the team was grouped. Just looking at them, you remembered the smug smile Fury had given you when you agreed, finally, to be part of the team, after learning that Steve would be too. He was damn lucky, that's all, because that wouldn't happen again. What were the odds of two alien invasions happening in one year, after all?

After they delivered the scepter and Loki, you'd be long gone from there, focusing on your primary mission in getting into SHIELD in the first place, which Fury had as much knowledge of as you did.

“Hey,” you greeted Steve again, meeting him just after the Norse gods disappeared.

“Hey,” he approached, wearing that brown leather jacket he hadn't let go of since the moment he touched it. The team was taking their leave behind him, each focusing on their own business from now on. As you crossed glances with Natasha Romanoff, that feeling of familiarity coursed through your body once again. It was odd, you were sure you had seen her sometime before. “Do you want a ride?”

You saw Steve shake his head in the direction of his motorcycle, moving faster than him as you sensed Tony was approaching to say goodbye.

“Is something wrong with your friend?” you heard him speak and as each time you couldn't help but compare his voice to Howard. They were so alike in their youth and adulthood. You didn't even want to think about becoming a close person in his life when you knew what you knew. If he found out about it through other means it would be a disaster. As much as you wanted to look out for his safety, perhaps as Howard would've liked, you didn't want to cross that line without figuring out all the loose ends first. That would be a problem if Fury ever thought of summoning them back.

“She's shy,” Steve replied, and you had to hold back the urge to reach back and pat his head. “Big fan of yours.”

“Really?” Tony sounded genuinely surprised. “I thought she hated me.”

“No, not at all. She studied some mechanical stuff too and admires your work from afar. But you know, never meet your idols,” you could make out Steve's smile behind your words, inwardly wincing with embarrassment.

“Well, I'm not that bad. Tell her anytime she wants we can talk.”

You heard no more of their conversation, feeling the bile travel down your esophagus to the back of your throat. How Tony could look at you and not recognize you as the strange woman who sat next to him at his father's wake was completely beyond you, but you weren't too intrigued if it helped you stay away. You didn't want him to start asking questions.

When you heard Steve's footsteps approach and the doors of Tony's red car close, you turned around to face your friend, his face of fake innocence angering you a little.

“You're an asshole,” you spat the words at him almost in a half-whisper, afraid that for some reason Tony might hear them.

“There's not that much of a lie in what I said,” the blond barely lifted a shoulder, mounting his motorcycle.

“You could've simply told him the truth: I do dislike him.”

“That's not true,” Steve shook his head, starting the motorcycle after you got on behind him.

“How could you know that?”

“He's Howard's son,” Steve blurted out, your movements slowing as you tried to get comfortable looking at him in the bike's mirror. “You couldn't hate him, even if you wanted to.”

You didn't rebut, not because he was right, but because it was the first time he'd mentioned Howard since you'd seen him after almost seventy years.

Since you'd run into him in that secret section of SHIELD, you two hadn't had much time for you to fill him in on the things that had happened, Fury jumping into the action directly telling them that the object Steve sacrificed his life for was back in the hands of the enemy and they needed to stop him. You could barely tell him about Howard's death and about Peggy as they were thrown onto the battlefield.

Now, as Steve drove you back to your apartment, all you could think about was that you still hadn't had time to have that talk. That talk where you would have to tell him a lot of things.

The smell of lavender that prevailed in your apartment did little to calm the little anxiety you felt the moment Steve closed the door behind him. A strange tension surrounded your shoulders and you were sure he felt it too, by the odd way he cleared his throat, moving into the living room, where he seemed to almost touch the ceiling of how small everything was.

“Nice place,” he commented absently, eyeing the paintings and colorful bookshelves you had in the living room and dining room.

“Sit. Want some coffee?” you ran to the kitchen, looking to escape that searing uncertainty.

“Water's fine.”

Fine. Water it is.

Returning to the living room, you found him mounted in your largest armchair, his knees too bent toward his chest for all the space he took up.

“So…”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Straight to the point. You didn't blame him, he must have been too curious. You didn't even know how he'd spent those days swallowing the urge to ask.

So you got straight to the point. You told him everything that happened after he crashed the plane. You told him about his funeral, about how the government started chasing you so hard that you had to leave the country and you kept going for years only because of Howard; you told him about how Peggy went on with her life, working, founding SHIELD many years later with Howard; you told him about Howard dying in a car accident, the half-truth burning your throat. Steve didn't even think anything was wrong by the way your voice cracked and you fought to keep the tears inside, what you were realizing was harder now that he was here. You told him that you came back from Europe thanks to Peggy, as head of SHIELD, making sure to keep you under her protection, and currently you still were. Maybe you had as much power as the Director himself because of how much Peggy saw to it that the Feds didn't bother.

You told him about Peggy getting sick, about her Alzheimer's. You told him how she hardly remembered things now; she had few lucid moments and forgot things very quickly. You gave him a moment to assimilate the information when you noticed his eyes sparkling.

“But she… did she live well?”

“Very well,” you nodded, smiling sincerely.

Steve nodded, letting a little tension escape from his shoulders. The silence that enveloped you two was a little more pleasant, leaving room for you to stop overthinking about what you should and shouldn't tell Steve.

“And you… what did you do all those years in Europe?” Steve was perceptive to take the one topic you didn't delve into at all, and you sighed in defeat. “It was… what, forty-five years?”

“Yes,” you nodded in the middle of a sigh, your gaze returning to the black TV screen, Steve's eyes fixed on your profile. “I studied a lot.”

“I assumed so, but was that all?”

“You might say. I studied nine majors,” you counted mentally, remembering the pictures that were stored somewhere in that apartment, courtesy of Peggy and Howard.

Steve whistled, a short laugh following his surprised expression.

“And why didn't you want to talk about that?”

“It's not that interesting-”

“Not that interesting? Better tell me what grades you have,” Steve grumbled, not giving way for you to try to avoid the subject one more time. Being that you had only talked about it with Peggy before, you took an inspiration to remember what it was like to tell her to reminisce with Steve.

“I started with some basics. Bachelor's degrees in math, physics and chemistry. Then I moved on to some engineering: mechanical, electronics, mechatronics. Astronomy, criminology, some marketing to survive when I went back to the States and they were in the middle of the technology revolution. I was studying medicine when Peggy called me back.”

“What year?”

“First one.”

“Wow,” Steve looked at you, as if he suddenly had to see you in a different light, his eyebrows still raised in surprise. “That's amazing. You know a little bit about everything.”

“Yeah, it really helped me get some good jobs and break even so Howard and Peggy didn't have to spend so much,” you nodded in his direction, his gaze intent on everything you were saying.

“I'm glad they took such good care of you,” Steve gave a lopsided smile, the warmest, most memory-evoking smile he could have given you.

“I wish I could've repaid them for all they did for me,” you commented, with a tone of remorse and sadness that Steve picked up on instantly.

“I'm sure they were more than satisfied to know you were okay. That was their priority. You know you couldn't make those decisions for them, right?”

You nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

Steve took in all the information you had to give him like a sponge, surely thinking that after seeing an alien invasion nothing could be that surprising. You guys spent a good while there, relaxing in your living room, placing food orders when the conversation turned to movies and series that Steve knew nothing about.

You spent an excellent rest of the day, Steve asking the odd question here and there, until you decided to watch the Star Wars movies first at the blond's request. You felt like they were back in '43 again, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, dreaming of the possibility of a life beyond what their social context allowed them.

Perhaps your dream was fulfilled in the most unexpected way possible.

The days ahead were now to be very careful. Steve would be spending more time at SHIELD, being that it would become basically his full-time job, and you needed to likewise spend time there focusing on your primary mission.

“What?”

Fury's eyebrows inched up, his face showing disbelief enough to make you doubt your decisions for a second, his forearms resting on his desk leaning forward. You shook your head slightly, maintaining your posture.

“I'm not going to tell him.”

“Why the hell not?” Fury raised his voice, as if for some reason your decision affected him personally.

“Because I don't want to, Nicholas. And I need you to help me cover it up.”

“Ah,” the man slumped back in his black chair, one hand rubbing his forehead as if the subject caused him as much of a headache as it did her. “Not only do you have to lie, but you have to lump me in the lying sack with you.”

“I'm not lying…! That much…”

“You do know that lies have short legs? What are you going to do when he finds out?”

“Nicholas, I need you to understand that Steve is not my priority right now. It's been twenty-one years and we haven't made any progress. I need to get to the fucking bottom of this, because whoever is behind it is still out there. I'm sure of it.”

Fury pursed his lips, barely shaking his head in a subtle nod, reluctanly agreeing with you finally.

“I'll put Steve on the front lines of every mission I can find,” Fury conceded to your request, his index finger tapping the wood of his desk like clockwork.

“Thank-”

“But you,” he raised his hand, pointing that index finger at you accusingly, interrupting your genuine thanks, “you're going to have to start thinking outside the box.”

“I have some guesses, actually.”

Fury rested his arms on the edge of the desk, leaning over to give you his undivided attention.

“Enlighten me.”

“So you're going back to Europe,” was the first thing you heard Steve say when you met him at SHIELD, two months after extreme missions he had to attend, barely spending a day at the facility before leaving again.

At first you thought Fury was overdoing it and offered to talk to him if he wanted to slow down, but surprisingly Steve was fine with it. In fact, he told you that it helped him deal with all the stress of having been in the Arctic for seventy years, and since you hadn't been through anything like that, you weren't going to judge.

“Yeah, evil doesn't rest,” you smiled absently at him, holding tightly to the strap of the black travel suitcase with enough belongings for a whole year.

“You know I already have a phone, right? You can call me,” Steve commented, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and shaking it in front of her to emphasize his request.

“Yeah, you gave me your number last week.”

“Ah, I just wanted to remind you because it's been five days since we've seen each other and I just found out you're going on a one-way trip,” his reproachful voice, but with some amused tones in there somewhere, made you wince as you remembered that you had indeed forgotten to inform your friend that you were going away, for quite a long time. In your defense, you had already gone too many years without telling anyone anything, and you were just getting used to having a friend to talk to more often again.

“Sorry,” you offered him an embarrassed smile, barely earning the shake of his head from side to side. “I'll bring lots of gifts from Europe, I promise.”

You raised your free hand to the level of your head, smiling more confidently at him, with his you better response echoing in your head as you averted your gaze to find behind him Tony Stark walking directly towards where you two were standing. There was no way you could run away from the inevitable interaction with the mechanic without overlooking saying goodbye to Steve, when you weren't going to see him for probably a long time. So you tensed up, the blond reading your body language long before you realized you were being too obvious.

And just as Steve was about to turn around, Tony patted his shoulder in salute.

“Nice to see you again,” through his sunglasses, he smiled openly at you, and you had to force a tight-lipped smile under Steve's tense gaze on you. “What are they up to now? Fury called me in for a confidential thing, won't I be teaming up with you guys?”

You were quick to shake your head, Steve barely muttering a no, amused to see you so dazed and nervous in front of the mechanic.

“That's too bad. I don't think-” Tony interrupted his own words as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Answering it right in front of them, you shrank in place trying to run away from there. “Happy.”

“Tony,” the man on the other end of the line didn't sound so happy to hear it unlike Tony, who had a big smile on his face. “Why are you forwarding my calls?”

“What? No, of course not. It's just that you're on my blocking contacts when I activate do not disturb and since I was driving…” Stark lifted a shoulder, indifferent to the looks you and Steve shared in front of him.

The other line on the phone was silent for a few seconds until chaos broke out.

“Pourquoi tu ne réponds pas aux appels? Pourquoi pas une urgence? Et si ta maison était en feu?” Happy grumbled from the other end, Tony scowling at the phone as if it was the fault of technology.

“Happy, how many times do I have to tell you to stop talking to me in French? I don't under-”

“He's asking you to answer the phone when you call, maybe someday it will be an emergency,” you translated before you could stop yourself, biting your tongue when Steve sent you a raised eyebrow look with a playful smile.

“You know French?” Tony addressed you, probably as surprised as you were because it was the first time you'd actively addressed him.

“She studied mechanics in France,” your friend spoke before you could think of anything on your own, and you had to physically battle to restrain your body from punching him in the face.

Steve had to stop doing that.

“Wow. Impressive,” Tony shook his head in nods, detailing her with his eyes with genuine curiosity.

“Tony!” Happy's voice interrupted the moment that felt tense, and Tony refocused on the reason he'd entered the SHIELD facility in the first place.

“Ah,” the mechanic grumbled, moving to continue on his way. “See you guys later.”

He waved his hand as he walked, turning his back to them and you followed him with your eyes until he disappeared down the hallway. At least he was still alive.

When you looked back at Steve, that strange smile hadn't disappeared from his face.

“What other language do you speak?”

He looked like a child, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“I'm not going to talk to you right now.”

You held the strap of the suitcase to sling it over your shoulder and walk in the direction of the exit, when Steve snatched it out of your hands and slung it over his own shoulder, his offended look being the only thing you got back.

“Why not?”

“You need to stop saying those things to Tony,” you frowned at him, lowering your voice as if, again, the mechanic might hear them. “Don't you know that lies have short legs?”

Steve laughed like you’d never heard before, probably not even in the forties, taking his stomach for a laugh. When you went out to the avenue and he followed you with sporadic laughter, you could not help but outline your own smile, missing in advance the time you spent with him.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Steve shook his head, his face red from laughing so much. He was barely calming down when you managed to stop a cab.

“You’re an idiot,” you snatched the suitcase from his hands and gave it to the taxi driver who had just gotten out of his car. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now. You’re not going to get rid of me so easily this time,” Steve joked, approaching to wrap you in a big hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, even though you had to stand on your toes to hug him tightly. The serum hadn’t given you as much height as he had. “Call me, write me or just let me know how you are. At least once a day.”

“Yeah dad,” you walked away, breaking the hug and shaking your hands casually. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Take care.”

“Sure. You take care of Peggy,” his eyes softened, the mere memory of Peggy returning him.

“Of course.”

His warm smile was the last thing you saw before getting into the cab.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier

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lemonnsss · 3 months

Text

Moral of the Story Chapter 5

Gif credit: @gi-fu

A/N: This is a little shorter than what I had hoped, but I hope y'all like it

Warnings: Trypanophobia; What is probably the worst thing I have written from a medical viewpoint, read with your own caution.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.1k

“TONY?!” I yelled in confusion. I ran to him, some of his bodyguards running past me to go after the shooter. Once I reached him, I knelt at his side. I nodded to the guard at his other side, signaling to join the sweep.

I loosened his tie and pulled it off, opened his button-down only to reveal another layer but moved the mostly removed layers out of the way to see the wound. The bullet hit the outer-left of his chest, probably between the fifth and sixth ribs, it would be difficult to pull out.

“What are you doing?”

“Great, you’re conscious. That’s a good sign. I will roll you on your side, and then I will pull the slug out, okay?”

“What, no!? You said you were a teacher, not a doctor!” He glared up at me, his expression tinted with fear, most likely from his previous accident.

“Well, you’re losing a bit of blood, not a whole ton, but more than what is good for a person. If I don’t take care of this now you might not make it to the hospital.”

A mumbled “shit” fell from his mouth. Perhaps he was beginning to grasp the situation. I moved to roll him and he didn’t push against me. There was no exit wound meaning that the bullet had either lodged against one of his ribs, or it was in his lung or another muscle. I shifted him back onto his back again.

“I know this is going to sound weird-”

“No.”

“Seriously? You won’t let me finish my sentences now? You could be drowning in your own blood right now.”

“What?! Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“You didn’t give me time to. Now, I’m going to grab the bullet and pull it out.”

“Okay, I may not know much about medicine, but that doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, let's just say I have a bit of a trick up my sleeve.” I said as I stuck my fingers into the wound. Tony began to groan out in pain again. I felt my finger go past his ribs, through his lung, and hit the bullet, eliciting another groan from the man beneath me. I pushed my finger past the top of the bullet and began pulling it out.

After a minute or two of re-positioning, I pulled out the bullet and turned Tony onto his front. Most of the blood that had been pooling in his lung flowed out of the bullet wound. I then turned him back on his back. I laid my hand over his chest and began to use my mutation. Within a few minutes, his wound had closed and healed in its entirety. Or so it seemed. The truth is that it had just moved from his body to mine, the downside to my mutation.

I began to feel the familiar feeling of blood soaking my clothes, followed by a warm, hazy feeling. It was starting to become hard to keep my eyes open. I saw Tony get up, entirely recovered, aside from the minor blood loss. I felt my vision start to blur. I think he looked at me in shock and confusion, probably wondering how I did what I did.

“What the heck? Kid! Oh shit. The fuck did you do?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll heal faster than you.”

“Look, now is not the time to be joking about how much younger you are than me!”

I let out a soft laugh, “Wasn’t trying to, boss.”

“Okay, how do you treat bullet wounds again?”

I was starting to feel lightheaded and said, “I typically just pull them out and move the injury to my body. It works like a charm. Although, that probably won't work for you."

By this time, my vision was foggy in what I could see, which was fading faster than I thought. At this point, my peripherals were entirely gone.

"Please, stay conscious. I don't want to deal with that paperwork."

"Sorry, I'm clocking out here."

I could feel myself fall unconscious, slipping further and further from a somewhat familiar voice.

I woke up in a hospital bed about 13 hours later. I sat up, feeling a slight pang in my chest; my heart’s reaction was sent over to the electrocardiogram, alerting the nurses over to my room. When prompted, they gave me a general gist of what had happened since I'd passed out; apparently, Tony had been forced to keep schedule and left in a separate vehicle, much to his displeasure. The nurse continued, “You have healed very quickly. Far faster than almost everyone I’ve treated all my years as a nurse. It seems almost supernatural.”

She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place, “Sorry, I must have made that awkward. It is quite interesting though.”

She walked over to the medicine cabinet and unlocked the first few drawers. She pulled out a large vial and a syringe, and my stomach dropped.

I let out an anxious laugh and asked, “What’s that?”

“I apologize, usually I don’t do this kind of thing to my patients, but someone made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. So now, here we are.”

She picked up the bottle, inserted the syringe's needle into the bottle and turned it upside down, and pulled the plunger down until the syringe was full, then turned it upside down again and switched out the needle while walking towards me, “Please, don’t scream.” she placed her gloved hand over my mouth, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my throat felt as if it were closing up and like a weight was on my chest, crushing my ribs under the pressure, I knew this feeling. It was a panic attack. I’d had them almost all my life but the feeling that accompanied it was one of such extreme dread, a feeling that hadn’t plagued me since the death of Trask. Someone was testing on mutants again. “It’s not like it will matter anyway but, I would greatly appreciate it if we could wrap this up quickly. But, since you’ve been good thus far, I’ll answer your question. It’s morphine. I’ve made sure that this will be a lethal dose, regardless of your… differences. I can’t say if it will be painful though, but there’s enough here to make it very quick.”

As she finished her sentence and moved to stick the needle into my arm a bright blue light accompanied by a whirring noise filled the room. Standing in the entranceway was Tony in his Ironman suit with his arm outstretched in our direction, “Yeah, I wouldn’t necessarily do that if I were you.”

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Hello! Sorry if this request is too vague, please let me know, but I wanted to request a Tony Stark x reader Soulmate AU

Thank u have a good day/night :)

it was a little vague lol which is why i had the people vote in a poll. your soulmate au is that every time soulmates are close but don't meet, they repeat the same day until they do meet. enjoy!

masterlist

Tony Stark is beginning to think that he’s lived through this day before.

He’s no stranger to deja vu, or not as much as anyone else, at least. Usually, his days and nights are so bizarre that he has no problem differentiating any given set of twenty-four hours. Aliens only tend to invade the planet once every few weeks, inhumans only go bad once a month, and so he has time in between ends of days to tell which Monday is which.

Still, there’s today, and Tony swears that today has already happened. He woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and not in his own bed. He’d stayed up past his necessary bedtime in the lab again, a practice which is frowned upon by most but produces the results he needs. Maybe that’s why his head isn’t clear. Either that, or someone’s trying to kill him again.

Tony opens his eyes in a mess of gears and wires and thinks, didn’t he just clean that up? Rhodey’s been after him recently to get his shit together, which obviously hasn’t happened yet, given the fact that Hurricane Machine Parts has had yet another landfall on his chosen sleeping desk. Tony blinks unhappily at the bits and bobs scattered helter-skelter in front of him and chooses to solve his problems the usual way, by sweeping everything into a nearby bin and pretending everything is fine.

An alarm goes off on his phone and Tony glares at it before the panic surges. That’s not meant to wake him up, that’s meant to get him out the door in time to make it to a conference. Tony is giving a speech on, well, something he was supposed to remember. Something important. In the end, does it really matter? He’ll say something snarky and possibly brilliant, then pepper in the fact that he’s Iron Man and saves everyone’s asses on a weekly basis so no one can complain. It’s a wonderful scare tactic.

Tony is aware of the fact that he should know what he’s doing, but why should he care when no one else does? Regardless of what he says, he’ll get the same reaction. Everyone in the audience is just there in the hopes that being in the proximity of a billionaire will improve their own trajectory in life.

Tony used to pour his heart and soul into press conferences and scientific discussions until he looked out into the audience one day and realized that no one was paying attention in the slightest. They were pretending marvelously, of course, even had him fooled up until that point, but their focus was just superficial. They nodded along self-importantly with every one of his bullet points, but their heart wasn’t in it, so why should his?

Besides, he gives one of these talks what feels like every day, so it’s not like he’ll have anything new to say anyway. Tony did one of these exact things yesterday, even slept late too. He can’t remember where this conference is being held, nor where yesterday’s was, or even the location of tomorrow’s talk. He’ll ask Happy in the car. Surely his head of security should be aware of where Tony is going.

One rushed morning routine later, Tony is in the car, knuckles clenched bone-white around the steering wheel. Happy has to give him course corrections only three times, increasingly let down with each one. Tony reads between the lines in each and every pursed lip, wincing with the disappointed side eyes. Yes, he’s a trainwreck, yes he’s worse than ever, but does he really have to be reminded of that right now?

Tony makes it to the function in time, smooths his tie and waves soullessly to the press. A woman greets him at the door. Her lipsticked smile says, We’re glad to have you! Her pained stare says, Why are you only here thirty seconds before the show begins?

Tony has no excuses, so he doesn’t give them, only recites the usual dialogue about how delighted he is to be at this conference. You know, the conference. The one for this day, the day that’s different from all the others.

Tony settles into his seat on stage once the moderator introduces him. The funniest thing happens as he waits for the crowd to finish cheering. Although this could be just brushed off as Tony obviously not being as focused as he could be, he swears that this moment seems familiar. The moderator is wearing a rather lurid lime green coat, and wasn’t it just yesterday that Tony was thinking to himself that the man resembled the Grinch if he tried to go corporate?

Tony tears his gaze from the moderator to the crowd. No, this time he’s sure of it. The woman in the front row, left aisle, with the navy jacket asked him a tough question on the possibility of nuclear energy in the future just yesterday. The balding man on the far right nearly knocked himself out trying to get Tony to take a photo with him as he left the event. This is all the exact same as it was before. He has been here before, and if his suspicions are correct, he will repeat this exact same day again and again until he can get something right. Something crazy. Something like a soulmate.

God, Tony didn’t really think he’d get to this point. Soulmates are hypothetically for everybody, but it wouldn’t surprise Tony if they would skip a guy like him. It’s said you can go your entire life without meeting your soulmate, that you end up falling in love with whoever will make do and doing your best to forget that you were slighted by fate’s best gift to humanity. Something about Tony always seemed to fit that bill to a T. Maybe he’d manufacture destiny by finding someone he could love instead. He has always liked to Macgyver his way out of difficult problems, so conjuring up a soulmate out of conjecture would not be his worst hat trick.

Yet here Tony is, stuck in the soulmate loop. There’s only one way to know for sure to know that you’ve met your soulmate. More specifically, there’s only one way to know that you’re meant to meet your soulmate on a particular day: you can’t get out of the same set of twenty-four hours.

The lore goes like this: if you end up in close proximity to your soulmate without actually meeting them, you’ll have to repeat the same day over and over until the two of you make contact. Tony’s parents apparently took five days to get to know each other, but that’s on the low end. He’s heard of bad cases that took months of the same damn day for two people to finally figure each other out. And in a city like this, a place like New York? There are quite literally millions of people who could possibly cross Tony’s path. God, he might even be here for years.

It’s a flawed system, that’s for sure, but Tony has no way to fix this. None at all. The only thing he can do is start going about the process of fixing things. So his soulmate’s somewhere in this day, and it’s someone he’s never met. Maybe they were in the parking garage at the same time as him. Maybe they’re somewhere in this conference center. Maybe they were walking outside Stark Tower when he goes home for late night work.

There are so many places and so many possibilities that it’s starting to freak Tony out, so much so that he almost misses it when the moderator starts asking him questions. Were it not for the fact that Tony’s already lived through this once, he might have stumbled a little. Thankfully, he remembers enough of what he said last time that the words flow like water, giving Tony some space to think about his soulmate instead of which brand of coffee he attributes to giving him the most energy to seize his day. That’s a stupid question anyway.

This also helps him the next day, and the next day, and the next. One week of todays later, Tony is ready to scream. He knew the process of finding one’s soulmate would be difficult, but he didn’t count on it being this difficult. Tony is already going out of his way to meet new people, but even then, how would he know which stranger of dozens is actually his soulmate?

At this point, Tony would settle for just getting out of the loop altogether, soulmate be damned. Maybe that’s not the right attitude to have, but it’s his nonetheless. Every day, he works late into the night, and every morning, all of his progress is gone. Tony can’t even note his discoveries on his phone because his memos clear out overnight, all those breakthroughs vanished into pixels of days past. Happy tells him that he looks tense. Tony fights the urge to hurl himself through a glass window. Such is the way of life.

He tries to look for the bright side of things, if he can’t think about anything else. It’s nice that he gets so many days guaranteed without threats made on his life. If he sticks to schedule, Tony always makes it to the crosswalk in front of the conference center right when the walking man appears. There’s this pretty girl in the back of the auditorium who always gives him this encouraging smile when he takes the stage, like even though Tony starts each show feeling like a trainwreck, she knows he’s going to be alright no matter what.

There are resources available to him. Tony’s had plenty of time to look. There are scores of websites online dedicated to people stuck in a loop and trying to find their soulmate. So long as you don’t mind making the same post every single morning, you can tell people where you’re located and see if you can track down someone in your vicinity. Tony’s been visiting them as of late, hovering over discussion boards like they’ll give him any sort of clue.

Four weeks of the same day. Four weeks of getting nowhere. Tony runs into traffic so he can stare into car windows. He lurks in coffee shops. Pepper thinks he’s going insane, but she changes her mind every twenty-four hours when the day resets, so he doesn’t have it in himself to care much. He just needs to get out of this day. He just needs his life back.

Some part of him wonders, too, who this person must be. Would they be kind or clever? Are they trying half as hard to find him as he is? Have they given up on him already? Tony would like to think that they’re fighting a battle for him, but who truly knows in the end. All he remembers is the same day over and over again.

Then, just when desolation is starting to kick in, Tony sees something. It’s a message on one of a thousand soulmate finding sites. Anyone stuck in today for a really long time? Thirty-three repetitions and counting. I’m in NYC if anyone else is out there. I keep going to Tony Stark’s conference at 10am, but not even his motivational speeches can keep me hopeful for much longer.

Tony almost chokes, then laughs, then lets himself wonder. Thirty-three days sounds about right, and if they’re in the audience of one of his shows, then maybe–

He hits reply before he can stop himself. Also in NYC, also 33 days.

Tony doesn’t dare say anything else. On the car ride over to his conference, Happy asks him why he looks so confused. “It’s like you’re excited about something but you’re trying to pretend you’re not. What, have you annoyed another competitor into folding?” His head of security comments.

“No,” Tony mutters, “and besides, that was only one time. It’s not going to happen again.”

“You tell yourself that,” Happy chuckles, and then they’re at the conference center and they don’t have much to talk about anything, business ventures or soulmates or otherwise.

Tony checks his phone before he goes onstage. The person has responded to him. Wait, really? Where are you?

Tony glances around him. One of the event hosts, that passive aggressive woman, is coming to escort him to the stage, so he doesn’t have much time. Conference center. The one where Stark is speaking.

Then he’s on stage again, repeating the same stupid answers for the same bad questions. Now that he’s been here a couple dozen times, Tony can confirm that they really, really need to get better topics for him to discuss. He would be dozing off were it not for the fact that his soulmate might actually be somewhere in this building. Maybe somewhere in the same hall.

The interview ends, and Tony dares breach public etiquette by pulling out his phone. The stranger has replied again. I’m there too! What’s your seat number? Maybe we can finally break out of this.

Actually, Tony says, I’m the one on stage.

Tony looks around for someone, sees no one, tries to hide his despair. He stands on that stage for a little too long, past the point where the moderator is standing there blankly, grin frozen and eyes wide with the same expression everyone gets when someone does something they shouldn’t in a public setting.

One of Tony’s aides appears out of nowhere, gently tugging on his arm to get him to move off stage. Just as he goes, though, he hears a shout from somewhere in the back of the auditorium.

“Wait! It’s me!”

Tony cannot describe it, this certainty looming in his chest, but he knows it’s his soulmate. They’re here. He whips his head around even as his aide yanks him away. Tony sees a blur of faces, someone pushing through the crowd in the aisle, but the face–

Nothing. No one he can recognize. No one he could find later. They’re a woman, that’s all he’s learned. Tony frantically checks his phone, sees a message saying that she’s figured him out. Tony tries to fight to stay around longer, but now Happy’s determined he’s delusional and Tony is all but packaged into his car and driven away. He’s put on house arrest once he gets back, Pepper and Happy taking turns asking what the hell has gotten into him. Tony tries to explain, but they don’t want to listen. No matter how many times you’ve repeated the same day, you wouldn’t be acting like this. Please be rational.

Tony doesn’t want to be rational, though, he wants to find his damn soulmate. He tries to message his soulmate that he can’t get out of the house, but she’s not answering her phone. Just before the day ends, Tony memorizes her username and prays she’ll have the same one the next iteration of the loop.

He messages her the second he wakes. Is it still you?

Yeah, she says, my phone died, sorry. What happened?

My friends staged an intervention. Apparently I’m acting irrationally.

He can practically sense her laughing on the other end. Repeating the same day 34 times will do that to you.

That’s what I tried to say, he replies, but did they believe me? No.

There’s about a minute pause, and then they message again. Do you think we can do it today? Try to meet again?

I think we can try, Tony says, and that does it.

They make plans. Tony gets ready early. He lingers backstage, waiting, checking his phone every ten seconds. Happy must pick up on this tension, because when he approaches Tony about eight minutes after they arrive, he lingers on the edges of Tony’s peripheral vision, not wanting to interrupt whatever is clearly wrong with him.

“What is it?” Tony asks, distracted.

“There’s someone here for you,” Happy says slowly, “They say they’re your, uh, soulmate. Should I just tell them to leave?”

Tony feels his eyes grow wide. This is not the first time someone has tried to meet him by playing the soulmate card. He gets it: he’s rich, he’s distracted, of course someone would try it. This, however, might be the first time it was real.

“Yeah,” Tony says, “it’s them. Where is she?”

Happy blinks, surprised. “Wait, you’re serious? It’s actually–” At Tony’s exasperated hand waving, Happy hurries himself along. “Sorry, sorry. She’s waiting by the door.”

Happy might be saying something else, but Tony doesn’t hear it. He’s already spinning around, walking as fast as his dress shoes will let him. There’s a woman standing by the east exit. She looks nervous, and half a second after he sees her Tony realizes that she’s the pretty woman from his show. He saw her every single day, and he never even knew it was her.

Tony wondered what it would be like to meet your soulmate after so many days of waiting, if there was any way of knowing for sure that it was them. So many weeks later, Tony has an answer: you feel it in your chest, right between your ribs, an electric shock that makes his entire body stand alert.

She must feel it too, because all of a sudden she looks up from where she’s been scanning the crowd and her eyes land on him. She smiles, and it’s because of him. No other reason. Just him.

Words are hard to come by. Should he say something impactful, the perfect sentiment for such an important moment? Surely this is a time for something to remember. Tony’s been repeating this day for a while, though, never truly believing it would come to an end, so when his mental wheels stop spinning, all he can do is something simple, something real.

“Hi,” he says, “I’m Tony.”

She grins at him. He doesn’t know that he’s ever seen an expression so sweet.

“I’m Y/N,” she replies, “it’s great to finally meet you.”

marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Angel by the Wing - TWENTY TWO

Chapter Warnings: discussion of child abuse and domestic violence, discussion of the possibility of miscarriage, allusions to homophobia

A/N: I’m nearing graduation so I’m in the final rush to get work done so updates will be going sloooooow for a bit. sowwy. love u.

Series Masterlist OR Mobile Masterlist

There is a reason why Jacob “Hangman” Seresin is such a dick.

He was seven years old the first time he saw his mom cover a black eye with concealer and a smile. Ten when he pushed himself in between Jennifer and Daniel Seresin and took a well-aimed smack to the face. Thirteen when Daniel stopped making his wife his main punching bag and started turning on Jake.

He was fifteen when he realized that he wanted to kiss Tony Garcia as much as he wanted to kiss Lisa Kelley. The words of his father haunted him at night. Things like how he didn’t raise no fucking fairy. How Jake was too much of a fucking sissy. How he needed to man up and take each hit like a champ.

Jennifer knew something was different about her son. She saw the way he gazed at the front cover of Tiger Beat magazine no matter who was on it. Daniel would beat her black and blue if he saw her giving his son that “sissy shit” but she would pay in cash and slip it under Jake’s pillow to find when he came home from football and baseball practice.

Jake grew thick skin in that house. He had to in order to survive. He loved his mom dearly and he wanted to keep her and his little sister as safe as they could. He was sixteen when he threw a punch back at Daniel and knocked him out cold. Jake was six feet tall and pure muscle thanks to being a double sport athlete. Daniel was on the fast track to alcohol induced cirrhosis.

He knocked his father out and then told his sister and mother to pack their bags. They would get out that night.

That same rough attitude got him through the last few years of high school. He had to protect his sister at her new school, his mom from the specter of his father, and himself from the world. By the time he entered the Naval Academy, DADT was well in effect. Being bisexual meant he could still flirt with women and kiss a few of his other female classmates, but there was still this gut-punch feeling he had every time he felt a flush rise to his cheeks when he saw some guy throwing a frisbee out on the quad.

And then he graduated and entered flight school and met Bradley Bradshaw and for fucks sake, they shared a bunkroom. What was he supposed to do? Bradley was charming and funny and his patience drove Jake insane. He thought that there were moments Bradley saw past that veneer of arrogance he held in front of him as a shield.

Jake always had to be the best. If he was the best athlete on the field, then his dad would be proud. If he was the smartest kid in class, his mom would be proud. He had to be the best in order to get the attention of Naval football recruiters. Five years of service in return for free tuition, a load off of his mom’s shoulders. He had to be the best to be a fighter pilot, a job that would take him away from his mom and sister, but wouldn’t put him in a submarine with no way to contact him for a year.

Letting people in was a risk, he learned, and one he tried to avoid at all cost. Letting people in gave them a chance to see the ugly, jagged, imperfect parts of him that he was terrified to let people see. So he pushed people away with his cocky attitude and jabbed words.

Bradley Bradshaw didn’t care because Jake wasn’t speaking when they were making out in their empty bunkroom.

But then the Navy split them up to deployments across the world. They attended Top Gun at various times, occasionally seeing the other at a base for a few days before they were sent off again, but Bradley had grown more serious and less impressed with Jake’s attitude. He knew it was inevitable. He pushed people away so he really couldn’t act surprised when they left.

He was stationed at Lemoore with Phoenix and then down to Miramar to help train some new pilots when the news of the special detachment came. By then, he was quickly sinking into the bright smile of the bartender of the Hard Deck.

And here he was sitting on his couch with Bradley Bradshaw’s head resting in his lap. His fingers ran through the brunet’s curls and he scratched his nails over Bradley’s scalp a few times, eliciting a satisfied hum from the man who was drifting between the veil between sleep and awake. How the fuck had he ended up here?

“Hey,” you said as you emerged from the bedroom. You were tucking one of your black Hard Deck t-shirts into a pair of jean shorts when you looked up and saw Bradley half-asleep on Jake’s lap.

“Oh sorry.” You lowered your voice and winced but Bradley waved you off.

“I wasn’t sleepin’,” he grumbled.

“Okay, that’s a bold faced lie but whatever you say, bear.” You came around the side of the couch and leaned down to run your hand over Bradley’s hair before straightening up and laying a kiss on Jake's cheek.

“I have to leave to help get the bar ready before we open. Penny took Amelia out on a boating trip to north Cali so I’m opening and closing tonight. I figured you two will want to get shitfaced tonight so I can drive you home and we’ll go get your cars tomorrow morning. Sounds good?”

The two men sent you a thumbs up and you grinned. “Okay, perfect. Item two on my list…”

Bradley sat up with a groan, his ribs protesting the move, and Jake slid his hand down to support his back until they were both sitting up and staring at you.

“There’s a chance.” You worried at your bottom lip and sighed. “There’s a chance I could miscarry. The risk dramatically drops after eight weeks and is extremely rare after twelve weeks, but there’s always a possibility.”

Your hands dropped to your stomach where that near invisible bump rested. “Would you be alright if we waited before telling people? I already told Penny, but that’s because I was freaking out and needed someone to screw my head on straight.”

“I told Mav too,” Bradley added. “But I’m okay with not telling anyone else until you think it’s good.”

Jake cleared his throat. “I’d like to tell my mom. I was hoping to have her and Liz come down to visit soon, maybe this month. Would that be okay?”

A smile grew on your face and you reached out to cup his face. “Of course. It would be really nice to meet your mom. I’m sure she’s got a bunch of embarrassing baby photos of you.”

He rolled his eyes but settled a kiss against your wrist as your grin brightened. You leaned down to drop a kiss to each man’s head and then hurried over to the front door to put on your shoes and grab your purse.

“Okay, I’ll see you both tonight. Be good while I’m gone. Jake…” Your gaze flickered between the two men. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I think you should tell him about your dad.”

His heart sank into his stomach at the confused glance on Bradley’s face, but he knew she was right. If they wanted this to work, Jake would have to be honest about the fact that he didn’t know how to be a good father thanks to Daniel Seresin being a raging piece of shit.

As soon as the door shut behind you and the sound of your car drove off, Jake leaned back against the couch and sighed. Bradley kept those warm brown eyes fixed firmly on him and then Rooster surprised him by reaching out and carding his fingers through the soft strands at the base of his neck.

Jake let out a shaky breath and began to tell him.

A few hours later, Jake joined the rest of the Daggers at the Hard Deck. He sat across from Bradley, their feet hooked together and their heads occasionally turning in the direction of the bar where you were focused on making drinks. The team were all intent on getting sloppy, piss-faced, “holy shit we lived” drunk tonight. Warmth suffused his veins, both from the bourbon and from the laughter of the team as they all swapped stories from their earlier days in the Navy.

“What’s everyone doing for their leave?” Halo asked once the conversation started to die down.

Varying responses came, mostly people saying they were going home to see family. Others were staying in California, like Phoenix who would be going back to Lemoore with Sofia, and Bob, who had been practically adopted by the two women and would be joining them for the first half of leave before he went to see his family.

“I’m going to be here for a bit,” Bradley answered. “Enjoy the sun. Weather’s nicer here than in Virginia.”

The others were too drunk already to recognize the heavy gaze Bradley laid upon the man seated before him. Jake grinned into his beer just as you appeared at their table with a tray of shots.

“On the house,” you announced as you laid it down in front of the aviators. “You better have a designated driver planned out or I will be sticking your ass into an Uber and praying you get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bob replied meekly. You grinned to show him you weren’t all that serious and nudged your knee against the interlocked ankles under the table.

Jacob “Hangman” Seresin never expected that he would have the chance to feel like this. He was thirty-three when he let two people into his life and found that flying wasn’t the only adrenaline rush.

Tag list: @mizzzpink @xoxabs88xox @dreaminglandsworld @khaylin27 @loveforaugust @phoenixssugarbaby @atarmychick007 @mak-32 @itsmytimetoodream @krismdavis @emma8895eb @startrekfangirl @hangmandruigandmav @lunamoonbby @startrekfangirl2233

#hangman x reader #hangman x reader x rooster #hangster x reader #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #bradley bradshaw imagine #jake seresin imagine #abtw

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scoonsalicious · 7 days

Note

Oh pookie my pookie🩷🩷 As usual, u r the absolute best! DELIVERED. LAWYERED.

Literally my face when reading

Okay, I did not see that coming. She spiralled out real BAD. At the same time i was cheering for her (yeah fuck that bad decision and leave him dry!!) i am also worried for her mentally and physically which can be seen at the end of chp 24 P1.😭😭 She’s going to self destruct until she feels like she absolutely fuck Bucket out of her system. (Pocket really really loves him which makes this an infinite amount of times sadder)

Oh Bucky…. you suck butt

About Sam being here… for now… please don’t let anything happen to Dark Chocolate😂 So other than Sam being injured, or Pocket getting kidnapped… what if Buckwheat somehow replaced Sam in the mission (is that even possible?😂) because he’s going to reappear in chp 25. There’s a lot of possibility that I can think of but i don’t think Sam would just leave Pocket alone. He’s not that kind of guy. He will stick with her just like how Tony would. So something must’ve happened to him.

AND, if Bucky is there… then fucker cunthage will be there which is NOT good for our Pocket. Because you did say Pocket and John only have one more confrontation? (is that the word you use? but u know what i mean😂)

I do hope Bucket will be able to ‘escape’ from the claws of that bitch. But my end theory about Buckaroo and Jennifer having a show down is FIXED. I need him to beat the shit out of Jeremiah PLEASE😭😂.

I can’t wait for the next part and Buckdoodles reappearance, Pocket’s so called knight in shining armour😂. Also a tiny (like really tiny) shoutout to Bucket for not giving up. Possessive little shit. My heart did the flutter when he calls her ‘baby’😂. Can’t imagine what he’ll do knowing our Pocket fucking around.

Rough sexy time? 😏 Or full puppy cry?😂

Our sexy macho❤️

Anyways as usual, amazing writing Pookie. I love you sooo muchhhhh.🩷🩷

Meowahhh~

Thank you so much, Bestie! Literally my face as I wrote it:

She's gonna try to fuck Bucky outta her system, that's for sure. How successful she'll be, well, who can say? I mean, she loves him SO FUCKING MUCH, she's over here like:

It's Buckback Mountain up in dis bitch.

Don't worry 'bout Ole' Sammy. I'll say that part of your guess is correct, but I'm not going to tell you which one! And I'll say this: Bucky shows up without his shadow. When Cunthage eventually does reappear, it's not Bucky who she's coming for. Is that vague enough? lol

When Bucket Finds Out about Pocket's Fucking Around, he's upset, obvi, but he handles it differently than I think any of us would expect him to, and I'm absolutely going to fully address it in a post-series smut oneshot.

Also, thank you for that Bucky gif; it is giving me (to quote The Giver) stirrings. lol

I thank you so much, as always, for your kind words and your thoughts and discussion! Pookie loves you oodles and oodles!

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

Text

‘Gentle’

Dr Strange x fem! reader

- a very very very long ass fic as my Christmas present to you all, i got very carried away. a very enemies to lovers, angsty, smutty, jealous Stephen fic for u cause i too am a slut for it. ENJOY U WHORES x

The tension was white hot with hatred, it was as if you were both being treated like naughty children that didn't know how to get along. What made it all the more hilarious was the fact that it was true. You hated Stephen Strange. Stephen Strange hated you. It was an undeniable fact, your hatred for him went far and wide into the endless horizon, deeper than the pit of a black hole, the feeling of deplorablity so strong whenever he opened his mouth it was about to consume you whole.

Stephen's feelings towards you was just as negative. Although he found it slightly cute the way you would get into a hissy fit just because of him, the thing is he had no problem admitting that you were hot, just extremely annoying and way too assertive. Finding a need to point out every single problem without putting in the effort to fix it, you were a control freak; it was enough to fuck with anyone's head, let alone one of the most powerful magic weilders of all time.

Tony had to put an end to this when a brawl broke out between you two. You punched him in the face and left him with a bloody nose.

Tony had to do something about it: designated sessions for you both in an attempt to diagnose the problem between that made you feel this way. Though it wasn't be being supervised another fight could break out but no one was willing to listen to you both bitch and moan for an hour every week.

It was like couples therapy without the couple or the therapist. Lucky you, this will surely solve all of these engorged problems!

You were both metaphorically being grabbed by the ear and sat down in by Tony, leaving you alone in locked room with Stephen Strange. The man who has cockiness in his blood and is ego incarnate, the man who was blinded by his own self interest. It was taking you all of your night not to give him another bloody nose/

‘’You guys are going to be locked in this room for an hour every week, okay? Sort your shit out or so help me God I'll kick you both out.’’ Tony yelled, you hadn't seen him this fed up in a while. Slamming the door shut, you were left alone with him

Stephen was sat infront of you, bloody and bruised with an unwelcoming scowl indented on his face. The table was the only thing between you. Therapy sessions were not going to fix any of this. It was all far too shattered to even be considered.

Bitter silence encompassed the room but you didn't want to break it first, he didn't deserve your words.

‘’Okay, I'll go first since you've seemingly forgot how to talk, which I thought was entirely impossible. You're fucking insane.’’ Stephen smiled at you sarcastically, voiced laced in venom as his eyes bore into yours.

‘’Maybe you're just unbareable and I wanted to put myself out of my own misery.’’ You crossed your arms in defense.

‘’Okay, okay listen...Do you seriously want to get kicked off the team? Or are we still going to keep doing this? It's all in your hands at this point because I'm done with all of it, I don't care if it's real or not. I don't want to be sitting here and doing this right now.’’ Stephen was actually being sincere for once, finally letting his anger get the best of him. He was so frustrated with all of it. Tired of this little dance he has to endure with you.

You let the words hang in the air for a while, stunned with how he's reacting to all of it; most of the time he's a sarcastic smart ass, this was the most emotional you've ever seen him.

‘’Okay fine. Let's do this your way. Let's get all of these feelings off our chests, okay? I'll go first this time.’’ You leaned forward on the table, defensive and snarky as always but willing to actually get to the root of your hatred for him.

‘’You're an asshole.’’ You stated simply.

‘’Boo fucking hoo. Everyone experiences that from me, you're not special.’’

‘’Nobody should have to experience it at all, Stephen!’’ You yelled exasperated.

‘’You know what I think? You have an injustice complex. Everyone needs to be treated fairly and all that shit. Sweetheart, the world doesn't work that way and you know it so I don't know why you're trying to reinforce it.’’ He snarled, looking you right in the eye to see if his words cut enough to make you flinch.

‘’Call me sweetheart again and I'll burn you in your bed.’’

‘’Sweetheart, you'll never get anywhere near my bed.’’

Your fists clenched, taking all of your might not to punch him in the teeth.

———

Another week passed and you weren't getting anywhere near to resolving this prolonged feud. You were both dragged to the locked box again. Natasha literally had to find you thanks to you hiding away as a means to not go.

Stephen was actually willing to end this cruelty by trying to get you to open up to get this over with quicker so it'll be easy to convice the rest that you can get along.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the paint becoming thicker and thicker with every second you were both breathing the same air. Hogging the oxygen in the process with the snarky, sarcastic sighs and the groans into palms.

Winced faces met once more in another hour of unrelenting torture: being alone together.

‘’Let's try this again shall we?’’ You smiled fakely.

‘’I think you're scared.’’

‘’Who the fuck do you think you are trying to psychoanalyse me?’’

‘’I'm a fucking doctor, of course I'm going to psychoanalyse you. You don't strike me as stupid, so stop trying your best to fall into that category.’’ He retaliated.

‘’Go ahead then, doctor. Floor me.’’ You squinted your eyes at him, hoping to throw him off.

‘’ You're scared of not having control.’’

‘’I'm not.’’ You were certain that he was pulling this out of his ass...well, you tried your best to convince yourself he was on the outside. But to your dismay and frustration, he was right. It was your biggest insecurity and you hated that he could see right through it. You just wished that you were laid back and could go with the flow like other people, but it felt like a mystery to you in terms of achieving it.

‘’Yes you are.’’ Stephen was sure of it, anyone with a brainstem could see it.

‘’What's it to you?’’

‘’It makes you difficult to work with to say the least. I mean I'm not the poster boy or advocate for being a team player but it's like you're scared of working with anyone else, even a person with the same skill set as you.’’

Your glare softened a little at his deduction.

‘’Condescending.’’ You muttered.

‘’Just smart.’’ He said deadpan.

‘’See that's another issue I have with you. You think you know everything. How am I supposed to work with someone who doesn't value my opinion or my ideas or my plans? You can't reprimand me for being scared to work with other people when you phsyically can't.’m

‘’But we have to learn to deal with it. I have. Now it's your turn.’’ Stephen was stern but you knew he wasn't wrong, it made you uncross your arms and breathe out slowly. Your gaze was still hard, eyebrows creased to form that angry little 'v' between your brows.

You used the fleeting time to look at him in this manufacture, squinting your eyes slightly Stephen looked stoic as always but you could tell he was wilting a little on the inside, exhausted with the way that it turned out this way. His hair was a mess probably due to his incessant need to run his fingers through it. In this light his blue eyes seemed even more cereulean, the blue turning into azure and then shifting to emerald green. It was as if autumn and summer was swirling in his eyes. It was a myraid of different shades, a smattering of colours you wouldn't be able to see if you didn't get this close to him; no one ever really got close to him. They were almost ...hypnotic. Almost like you could get lost in them.

You shook yourself out of your daze. Stephen noticed the way your body was less tense, as if you were finally opening yourself up and actually allowing him to see through the snarky remarks and eye rolls. In the dim light of the room, you really were beautiful when your face wasn't full of distain. He cocked his head slighty at the change of atmopshere between you both, for once you weren't letting yourself fight against it. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was just...silence.

‘’You going to the party tomorrow?’’ You blurted cracking through the silence, unsure as to why you were even asking him but your tongue was quicker than your brain.

‘’Have to. Are you?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ You said softly. He hasn't heard your voice be as soft as that, light and whistful- as if you were contemplating something. Something he couldn't trace his finger on.

——-

Stephen groaned going into the humdrum of people he was indefinitely smarter than, but he just had to grin and bear it. He was sure it was a test to see if you and him had actually made some progress with the self inflicted 'sessions.' It was crowded, lights softly blaring into the massive space the compound provided but his eyes immediately caught attention to you.

Like a beacon. A moth to a flame. He didn't like how immediate it was, the reaction he was having wasn't something familiar. He normally associated you with hatred and sometimes beauty but here...you looked incredible....

But you weren't alone.

Stephen squinted his eyes intently as he found you being chat up by Steve Rogers of all people. Captain fucking America. You were at the bar with him, laughing non chalantly at something he said, baring a million dollar smile in the process. He hasn't seen you this relaxed...ever. Steve was close to you, close in a way that irked him. Stephen attempted to immerse himself in conversations but his gaze always harboured to you and Steve. He frowned slightly when he put a hand around your waist and gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek before ultimately leaving you at the bar to entertain everyone else.

Stephen stared at you, your dress was short, hair still retaining its wild nature even though it was obvious you tried to do it up, makeup done naturally, legs on display with impossibly high heels. He didn't like the way he was eyeing you up like a mannequin, he thought he was done for when you caught his gawk.

Stephen staring at you was extremely unnatural, something fairly out of character. You knew Tony was watching you like a hawk so you made this most of this opportunity to convince him that you didn't need any more of these sessions, that you guys were neutral.

Stephen's heart was experiencing tiny palpatations when you swayed over to him and grabbing him by the arm and taking him back to the bar. Your heels were clacking with every step you took. He struggled against you, quietly whispering obscenties at you.

‘’Calm. Down.’’ You snarled as you held onto your drink.

‘’I am calm.’’ He grunted unkindly as he stared into your eyes. Stephen wasn't sure if he was more annoyed at the fact that Steve was touching you or the fact that you were dragging him along like a child.

‘’Tony is watching, so if you want this shit to end then...Get. Along. Okay?’’You gritted between clenched teeth, your smile transparent. Your body was hot with hate and...frustration, but not the normal type of frustration.

You took a quick glance at Stephen. You knew he was looking at you for as long as he's even been here, you weren't sure if it was out of bitter distaste or an even harsher hatred than before. Stephen in a suit was something that you don't see every day, but if he wore it everyday it might be a different story between the both of you. It was haywiring your mind, the way he looked both rugged and classy at the same time was really appealing to you. You tried to shake the thought out of your head, but that little seed was planted in your mind and you were unsure it it was going to go away anytime soon.

‘’Order a drink.’’ You demanded impatiently.

‘’Tell me what to do again and you're dead.’’ Stephen threatened and it was all too serious but for some strange reason the tone in which he said it was slightly attractive. It made a unnerving shiver course down your spine.

You death stared him and it now just made you realise how close you were to him. His glare met yours and you weren't sure what was coursing through the atmosphere, the hate was palpable but there was something else... something you were too scared to identify. You knew the fact that you and Stephen weren't beating each other up was a positive sign that these little sessions were working, Tony would be happy about it. Pelting each other with threats and insults was a healthier alternative.

Stephen ordered his drink and began reluctantly sipping. You clinked your glass against his and raised an eyebrow, his company wasn't too unpleasant and although it was under duress it wasn't the worst.

You still hated him though. He still hated you. So what was going on here? Before Stephen could even think it, you were being dragged away from him.

‘’I hope this was enough to convince Tony. Steve wants me with him right now for some reason.’’ You took the last swig of your drink before ultimately letting out a low chuckle. ‘’One more second with you and I swear I would have killed myself.’’ You blinked up at him, a small smile playing at your lips.

You really couldn't deny that he was attractive, it was objective. It wasn't your own personal opinion. It was just a fact.

Stephen didn't like you being near Steve and now you were going back to him.

He probably thinks he has a chance to fuck you.

Why was he even thinking of such a thing? It was none of his business. Hell, he didn't even like you as a person.

——

You were both in the room again.

It felt different.

Neither of you were talking. Both of your minds were heavy.

The silence was dense and thick, you were both mirroring each others actions the way your arms were crossed.

‘’Enjoy the party?’’ You tried your hand at small talk, his face was stern and gruff as usual but something felt off...and you knew exactly what it was.

‘’No. You?’’ He replied almost immediately.

‘’Never really cared much about parties.’m You subconsciously teased, unsure as to what outcome you would get out of him.

Stephen now knew exactly what he wanted. He didn't think it was possible but it's what he wanted. He really couldn't deny it for any longer. Stephen thought of alternative ways to channel his hatred for you: fucking you. Hard. Until you were crying, it was more than you deserved after all the shit you put him through. You were as irresistable as you were a hard ass. The small smirk on your face was making him clench his hands slightly, you were a tease and you knew you were. Maybe all of this hatred turning into nasty, disrespectful hate sex was inevitable. Stephen was sure he was losing his mind, he wasn't thinking clearly...but the answers to all of his problems were clear as day.

The silence creeped into the atmosphere once more.

‘’You fuck him?’’ Stephen said very curtly, his voice husky, as if he was asking a completely casual question. You were sure you were about to choke on your own surprise and breath. You knew he was talking about Steve, you brightened at the fact he was jealous, slightly aroused at his incredibly direct nature.

‘’Yeah. I liked it. Very…gentle.’’ You smiled, a little bit of your teeth peeking out as you did so. He knew you were being honest about it and he didn't like that, Stephen didn't know he could harbour so much hate for a woman yet get angry at the fact other people wanted her. It was an uncontrollable paradox.

‘’Good for you.’’ Stephen said lowly, it was hard to differentiate if he said it in a tone that was mad, annoyed, sarcastic or anything else. It was just blank.

‘’Tony probably didn't believe our stunt, that's why we're still here.’’ You crossed your legs trying to stifle your arousal.

‘’Don't think it was as bad to when we first started. Is it?’’ Stephen asked with a heavy voice. Why was it was so hot? The way he talked was... doing things to you. The sexual tension couldn't even be cut with a chainsaw.

It was as if prolonged silences were always following you both whenever you were near each other now. It was such a drastic change to when all you would do was scream at each other. Now it was just searching for the right words to speak, but your tongue was forgetting what language to speak in due to the way he was looking at you. Stephen's eyes were the definition of intense heady sex.

You needed to stop thinking about the man you hated in such a way, but how could you stop when he was looking at you like that?

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ You said without thinking.

‘’Anything.’’

‘’Fuck me?’’

Stephen thought he was dreaming, the way something so crude rolled off of your tongue so sweetly was making his mouth water. He was able to keep his stern exterior even though his mind was short circuiting, there was something so inherently wrong with him, with you both. Twisting hatred into heated sexual desire. He wanted it so bad though. So bad it was good. Your face told him you weren't bluffing, the way your thighs were clamping together under the table only reinforced the fact.

He let out a scoff, leaning back in his chair before ultimately getting up and prowling his way to you. It was as if time was being warped, it was so slow but he was finally standing infront of you. You were still sitting down in your seat and from this light he looked more intimating than ever.

Stephen's fingers traced the outlines of your face softly, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the skin; his thumb brushed over your full lower lip.

His gaze eased when your breath caught in your throat.

‘’Rough?’’ He muttered. brows slightly creasing. You nodded, eyes gleaming and bright. ‘’You finally not in control?’’ You nodded again.

His thumb continuously kept brushing your lower lip, you were impulsive and impatient and couldn't take it anymore. You caught his thumb between your pearly white teeth leaving small indents on his skin. He let out a small scoff at your action, so lewd and naughty in your ministrations. Stephen's smirk told all. You began suckling on his thumb and coated it with your saliva, swirling your tongue on it in the process. You finally let him go with a pop, you let out a shaky exhale.

You gasped when he slapped you across the face, you didn't expect it at all.

It felt really really good. Wetness began gushing onto your panties. As your face darted to the side, he brought it back and held your draw tightly in a cupids chokehold. Your eyes were wide in need. Stephen loved that he got you like this. He couldn't wait to show you more.

Stephen helped standing you up and your mouth was open slightly, the air was insanely thick it was unbreathable. Oxygen was replaced with fire. Your mouth slanted against his hard, Stephen's lithe muscle tangling with yours in a fight for control; he was right: you didn't like relinquishing control but in this case you were willing to give in. Stephen's mouth was leading you to places you'd never been, he tasted heavenly. Stephen was drunk off the taste of you, it was apparent by the way his hands wouldn't let go of the sides of your neck. He was the one in charge now.

Something you were sure wouldn't have happened in a million years. But here you both are. Panting and breathing into each others mouths.

Stephen's coarse calloused palms travelled from your neck to your waist as he sat you down on the table. He slotted inbetween your thighs easily, you finally opened up to him after all this time. You smirked slightly as he felt his chest cave slightly, his breathing was slow and heavy only adding to the fiery atmosphere. You were arching into him with every kiss he planted on your addicting lips.

‘’This what you want? Me fucking you on the table?’’ He breathed between kisses. already reaching for the hem of your shirt and taking it off of your body.

‘’Yes.’’ You whined under your breath. You clawed at his back to get his shirt off but he reached behind him and discarded it in one move. His muscles were rippling, the bulk of his biceps were daunting; it only made you that much wetter.

You were his easel, begging for art- undressing you with his voice alone.

Stephen's hands roamed the span of your back, searching for your bra clasp and unhooking it one by one as a means to tease you. His kisses travelled to your neck, leaving goosebumps and blossiming purple bites in his wake.

‘’Fucking tease.’’ You spat out. He was going far too slow for your pleasure. ‘’I said rough you idiot.’’

With that he ripped your bra off of you and discarded it to the other side of the room. His nimble fingers immediately travelled to your pants, he slid them down alongside your underwear. The fact he got you naked this fast was beyond you. Stephen was revelling in your bare body, perfection wasn't even near what you looked like right now. He'd always undress you with his eyes but even he couldn't have envisioned this. You smirked as his eyes raked up and down your body, they were darkening at every moment he had them on you; he grasped at your jaw harshly.

‘’I heard you, baby. You wanted me in control, right? So let me give it to you.’’ Stephen gritted in your ear before suckling on the space below it.

He pushed you down on the table. Hard.

When he fawned over you, your hands immediately slid to grab his face but he stopped you by pinning them back down against either side of your head.

You stifled out a moan as he began kissing and biting from your neck to your collarbone until he reached his final goal of your tits. His mouth devoured them hungrily and all you could do was convulse against him, his teeth tugged at your nipples and wildfire began zipping through your core.

‘’Stephen! P-please!’’ You began trembling under him. Jesus, the man was making you shake. Your ego has been bruised indefinitely.

‘’Open that pretty little mouth again and I'll edge you for weeks.’’ He threatened with a low grumble, he was all too serious and that just made you even wetter.

You gawked at him heavy lidded and dumbfounded as he tugged his pants down, your arms and legs were clinging onto him for dear life. Stephen stroked his dick a few times before swiping up and down your wetness, you were soaked and he let out a low chuckle. He reminded himself of what you said earlier, Steve was 'gentle.

‘’Gentle.’’ He whispered to himself with a laugh as he looked down at your sparkling eyes, he definitely wasn't going to keep himself on a leash. His mocking of Steve Rogers made his ego soar.

Stephen thrusted into you, stretching you out and making a moan rip through your throat. You covered your mouth with your hand to conceal your loud moans.

‘’Let them out.’’ He reassured, pulling your hand away from your mouth. With every stroke, his breath became more heavy.

He set a brutal pace and it made your eyes water, thunderous almost. The tips of your noses were touching as you were gazing intensely and deeply into each others eyes. A tear strayed free and rolled down your cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. The more you clenched, the fast her went.

Jesus fuck, you were gripping onto him so tightly as if you were vacuum sealed to his dick. And with that he was becoming more swift and confident in his movements, fucking you out as if you were his own personal doll.

You were so close to the edge, a stray bite on your jaw was enough to make you lose it. A high pitched pornograhic moan erupted from your mouth and he swallowed it as his lips latched against yours once again. Stephen felt your wetness leak onto him and like the gentleman he was, he finished after you. Painting yours insides a thick white with a gutteral groan.

Panting against your skin, your eyes were lust clouded and wide as he found himself being lost in them. Your pupils darted from feature to feature, your mind was taking a fantastical snapshot of this one moment. The moment in which you experienced post coital bliss and realisation with the man you hated so much for so long. The fact he experienced intense throes of passion with you of all people was messing up his head.

‘’How quickly can you get my clothes?’’ Your eyes were wide in panic as you were sure anyone was about to walk in at any minute.

‘’I'm still in you.’’ Stephen chuckled lowly.

‘’Put your fucking pants up and get my clothes.’’ You demanded hastily but Stephen actually listened to you for once.

It was a liability being like this, but what could he say. He was hoping he would be able to sneak moments like this with you for as long as you had him.

You were starting to think that this was a mistake…now that it started….you'd have him anywhere and you wouldn't be able to stop.

——

idk where this shit came from tbh but i spent 4 hours on it help

#dr stephen strange #dr strange angst #dr strange fluff #dr strange x fem!reader #dr strange x y/n #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #stephen strange

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