#i am incapable of writing smut without turning it into something full of angst and character development

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Title: The Flame And The Moth

Pairing: Alex Turner/Jamie Cook

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Smut, angst, mildly kinky undertones, gratuitous descriptions of humbug era Alex, internalised homophobia, milex if you squint

Summary: In a hotel room after midnight, Jamie finds himself confronting unwanted desires.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

this has been in the works for AGES and i am so excited to finally share it! milex will (obviously) always have the top spot in my heart, but it was super fun writing this as a little low-stakes escapism and getting to explore a different type of dynamic. i'm honestly quite nervous about sharing it because it is definitely a change of tone from the stuff i've written before, but hopefully it works and anyone reading it will enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

any comments and feedback would mean the world 💜

[salazarslytherin]

full (r.l x y/n)

requested: yes! [hi i got a request! can u write a smut where remus has a breeding kink and he’s scared that it’ll freak the reader out but she’s actually rlly into it n he just cums a lot into her (this is probably the spiciest thing i’ve ever typed in my life 💀💀)] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

cw/tw: tiny bit of angst at the beginning, insecurities?, breeding!kink, slight degradation, fem!reader, handjob, fingering etc. just SMUT.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i hope you like it y'all! if you do, pls do reblog/follow!! x

☯︎ join tag list here tag list: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black

Remus had been avoiding you for the past three days. Three days since you’d spoken to your boyfriend, two and half since you’d even seen him. It sucked.

The reasoning behind it was somehow worse - you’d tried to tell him you wanted to sleep with him, and he had literally run away.

So you were set on finding the boy and talking it out , and if it came to it, breaking up with him.

You didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want you, especially to the extent of intentional avoidance.

You were in a relationship, not an extended game of hide and seek.

So you’d concocted a plan - Tuesdays were when the other boys had quidditch practice, and Remus would be in his dorm on his own for at least three hours, studying, doing homework, or whatever it was that he would do on his own.

Now, today was Tuesday, which meant that tomorrow morning you’d either be very satisfied, or very single.

You weren't even quite certain what you'd expected to come out of the confrontation – a screaming match where you found out all the reasons why he didn't want you? A startling confession where you found out that your boyfriend was a virgin?

Nevertheless, you stalked towards the Marauders' dorm room, intent on confronting him, only to falter as you reached the heavy doors, hearing sounds coming from the other side.

Registering what the noises were, you ground your teeth loudly, clenching your jaw as you gripped the doorknob.

"Oh fuck off."

⚔︎

You slammed the door open, Remus rolling off his bed in shock at the sound.

"Are you joking?!"

Remus looked at you in confusion and fear, kneeling beside the bed with his head peeking over the side, a sheepish blush coating his cheeks.

"Um, Y/N, do you mind? I was kind of in the middle of something..."

You let out a laugh of exasperation, throwing your schoolbag on the ground in frustration.

"Yeah, I know. I could hear you outside. Am I just so unattractive to you, that I basically tell you to fuck me and you had to run away from me? You'd rather fuck your own hand than me?!"

Bending over to pick up your bag, you could practically your heart breaking as Remus scrambled to put on his pants.

Your fears had been confirmed – he didn't find you as attractive as you found him, and it hurt. You just wanted to run far, far away from him, to hide yourself away and be able to release the tears that were threatening to escape.

But as you turned to run from the room, that familiar grasp landed on your wrist, stopping you from leaving the dreaded place.

"Y/N, wait–"

"No, I get it, okay? I don't need to hear you say it out loud."

Your voice cracked as you tried to wrench your hand out of the werewolf's grip, unable to hide your sadness and hurt as you were turned to face the boy.

"Y/N! Please, let me explain myself, please. If you want to leave afterwards, you can. I just, please?"

You didn't really want to hear his explanations, but some masochistic, yet hopeful, part of you wanted to know just why he didn't want you.

Maybe you could change for him?

You relaxed in his arms, still not quite looking into Remus' arms as you no longer made any attempts to run away.

"You're right, I did run away from you when you said you were ready to sleep with me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to hear the rest of his words.

"But that's just because I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me anymore if I told you what I wanted."

Your eyes opened slowly as you lifted your head to look at the boy, your brows furrowed in confusion as you peered at him.

"What d'you mean?"

It was Remus' turn to become flustered now, his hands moving from your side to cover his face in embarrassment.

"I–okay. You know how you thought I ran away from you because I didn't find you attractive?"

You nodded, still half-convinced that was the truth, the reason why he'd avoided you for so long.

"It, it was the opposite."

You raised a brow in disbelief, unable to stop a skeptical laugh from escaping your mouth, Remus' hands falling away from his face so he could look into your eyes.

"It's true! I, fuck this is embarrassing, and you're probably going to run away from me if I tell you the truth."

You crossed your arms with a huff.

"Well right now I'm not quite certain there is a 'truth' that you speak of! I'm quite certain you're just making it all up, trying to hide the fact that you think I'm unattractive."

Remus grit his teeth, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly as if to shake you awake.

"No! That's absurd. I, I find you so bloody attractive, and, fuck it I'm just going to say it and if you break up with me I won't even blame you. I've been having dreams of you and I, but in those dreams," Remus' hands relaxed from your shoulders, falling to his side in embarrassment, "I would, um, cum inside of you, and uh, fill you with my pups."

Your jaw fell open at the boy's admission, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably before continuing to speak.

"And I've never even thought of that before! I think you're just so bloody hot that you've awoken some sort of primal instinct inside me, I just want to ruin you, and–and breed you. Fuck this sounds so creepy doesn't it."

You were incapable of shutting your jaw at this point. This was far from what you thought you'd hear from your boyfriend's mouth today.

"Y/N... I've scared you away, haven't I? I mean, of course you'd be freaked out..."

The boy continued to mumble to himself, terrified that he'd ruined your relationship, certain that you'd break up with him.

Contrary to what he thought though, you found his words incredibly hot.

And you'd be damned if you didn't make that a reality.

⚔︎

In the middle of Remus' ramblings, he was barely able to register that you'd moved towards him, placing your hands onto his cheeks until your soft voice rang in his ears.

"Remus?"

The brunette's eyes snapped to meet yours, gaze darting between each of your eyes as he awaited your words.

"Fucking ruin me, please."

Before the last word even left your mouth fully, Remus was already on top of you, his lips capturing yours hungrily, like you were his first meal in weeks and he was dying to have you.

As Remus devoured you, he backed the two of you onto his bed, his legs lodged between yours as you gripped onto his neck, eager to have him.

You arched your back as you were overcome with need, trying desperately to grind your clothed cunt onto his hard-on, but the boy only tutted at you, moving away from your lips to push your hips down on the bed.

"Such a desperate little slut, hmm?"

You only whined in return, trying to grind into his legs that were between you, Remus smirking down at you.

"Take your clothes off love."

Your hands moved to unbutton your school shirt without a second word, fingers moving in a flurry to throw it off before tossing your bra across the room, Remus moving at very much the same speed as he removed his clothes.

You both quickly found yourselves naked, admiring each other through lust-filled eyes as the boy lowered himself slowly towards you, his lips ghosting over yours as you laid yourself back down.

"So beautiful."

His lips quickly captured yours, both your hands exploring each other's bodies for the first time – tingles of excitement running through your bodies.

Your hands traced his scars as his ran down your curves, him stopping to suck in a breath as you cupped his cock, fully hardened under your fingers.

"Fuck, don't tease me Y/N."

You only licked the boy's lips in return, but was treated with a taste of your own medicine as his hand brushed your lower lips softly, tracing your slit teasingly slowly.

"Remus... Please."

Your cupped hand became a grip – encircling the werewolf's member as you began to pump up and down his shaft slowly, eliciting a low moan from Remus.

He responded by slipping a finger into you, the kiss broken as both your lips were preoccupied with a mixture of swears and moans, asking the other to hasten their pace as you two built up your orgasms.

"Wait, fuck stop. Stop Y/N."

Remus' other hand came to stop your hand as he kept himself up on his knees, pulling away from your close contact to look into your eyes.

"'m too fucking close, wanna cum inside you."

You swore you could feel your eyes darken at the boy's words, and so did his.

"Then fuck me."

⚔︎

Remus gripped your thighs tightly as he kissed down your body, spreading your legs and leaving a kiss on your soaking centre. You let out a shaky moan as he planted his tongue against it, licking a stripe up your lips.

"For next time."

The boy moved back up your body, his head hovering over yours as he looked down at his cock, pumping the already erect shaft before tracing his head along your lips.

"R-Remus, please. Want to feel you inside me."

The boy tutted at you mockingly, before sinking himself inside you slowly, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching around him.

"Fuck, you're so tight baby."

You moaned around him in a mix of pain and pleasure – his fingers not at all preparing you for his cock, stretching you in a way that none of your exes could ever compete with.

"You're so big Re, please, fuck."

Remus pressed a wet kiss to your forehead, his face contorted in pleasure as he awaited your green light to start moving.

After a moment, you nodded as the feeling of being full sent tingles down your spine, letting out a loud moan as the boy began moving out of you slowly, shifting himself so he could grip your hips more firmly for support.

"F-faster."

You muttered out as you clenched your walls around Remus, your orgasm already building from when he prepared you.

"Yeah, my desperate little slut wants me to go faster?"

His hips hastened the speed as his words made you whine loudly, his head lowering to leave kisses on your neck, marking you for the world to see.

“I’m close Re, fuck.”

“Me too princess.”

The boy buried his face into your neck as he began twitching inside of you, his speed faltering for a second as he let out a moan that could border on animalistic, cumming inside you.

The feeling of being filled more than you knew possible pushed you over the edge as Remus continued thrusting his seed deeper into you, moaning as your walls fluttered around him, cumming at the feeling of your boyfriend inside you.

"You look so fucking gorgeous right now love, such a good little cumslut for me, hmm?"

You could only whine in response as Remus continued fucking into you, his cock hardening yet again at the thought of you full of him.

"Gonna look so pretty filled with m'pups, love. Going to fill you up over and over and over again, watch my cum leak out of you because of how full you are."

You moaned at Remus' filthy words, turning to kiss his neck, softly nibbling on his earlobe as you gripped onto his shoulders.

"Yes Re, fuck. Fill me up, feel so good with you inside me. Making me feel so full. Wanna have your pups, want you to cum inside me. Make me yours Re."

It didn't take long for a second orgasm to start building, and it definitely didn't help that Remus had moved one hand to start rubbing at your clit, making you moan at the overstimulation.

"Feel good, hmm, love?"

You nodded into the boy's neck, your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure coursed throughout your body, unable to process proper words. The only sounds that filled the room were the sinful slaps of skin against skin, and a faint noise that made you blush.

It was the sound of Remus' cock slipping in and out of you, slick with the combination of both of your cum.

"Re, I-, fuck, close, again."

Unable to string together a proper sentence, your walls began fluttering around Remus yet again.

"So am I love. You feel so good, making me lose control. Wait for me, we'll cum together."

Your eyes rolled backwards, waiting for Remus. The task seemed impossible as pleasure pulsed throughout your body, your toes curling and legs shaking at the feelings.

"Re, please, I need to cum so badly. You feel so good."

Your nails dug into Remus' back, the feeling burning into him and making him groan into your neck.

"Yes, fuck Y/N. Cum with me love."

Finally able to release, you let out a moan that bordered on pornographic, seeing stars as your eyes squeezed shut much harder than before. You felt ropes of Remus' cum hit your walls, another animalistic groan reaching your ears as he bit into your neck, making you moan softly in the midst of a post-orgasmic bliss.

Panting, your chests rose and fall in tandem as Remus fell on top of you, his cock limp inside you. After a moment, he spoke up.

"Y'know you squirted?"

Your eyes shot open, staring at the boy who craned his neck to look down at you.

"I-, what?"

The werewolf let out a boyish smile, tongue running over his teeth as he stared down at you.

"It was hot."

[kevin-day-is-bi]

If you’re still doing your prompt requests could you do herongraystairs + 5??? Thank you so much 💖💖

Here you go! I went ahead and answered another ask with this same fic, so @autumnangel20, your ask for numbers 1 and 20 is answered here. 

Warning: This does contain smut. The smut is most probably not very historically accurate, but it’s harder than you’d think to write Victorian praise kinks. This contains some angst, some plot. 

Jem wondered, as he kept eating his toast, what he had done to deserve Will Herondale.

He wondered this often, some days in a 'how had he received this blessing' way and some days in a 'the Angel had it out for him and wanted him to suffer' type of way. 

Today was the first type, though by all usual methods of determination he should have been wondering the second. Will was even more boisterous than usual, rambling about all sorts of nonsense. Charlotte looked like she was regretting every decision that led her up to this moment as Will reenacted what Jem thought was supposed to be Will's own death via duck. 

All Jem could do was stare at Will as he reached one arm towards the sky, other hand pressing to his heart. While Jessamine looked annoyed, Jem was hyper focused on the enticing strip of skin that was Will's collarbone. 

"Oh, Angel above, Will." Charlotte set her fork down with a thunk. "Your toast has hardened, your tea is cold, just sit down and finish your breakfast." 

"I was showing my eventual brutal end at the hands of the ducks," Will said sullenly, as he got up and brushed himself off.

"Ducks don't have hands," Jem muttered, and Will gave him a betrayed look. Jessamine snickered. 

"And if you do not stop harping on about ducks, I shall have you killed before the ducks can." 

'Have him killed', Jem noted, not kill him herself. Jessamine's refusal to be a Shadowhunter had caused Charlotte more annoyance over the last three months than Will's antics, something that put out Will and made Jessamine oddly proud. 

Breakfast finished in silence, with the exception of Jem almost upsetting his tea when Will brushed his hand up high on Jem's thigh. Will gave him a smile with enough of a smirk in it for Jem to know it had not been accidental. 

When Will had left the room, speaking very loudly to an annoyed looking Sophie, Jessamine gave a great sigh. 

“How I wish I did not have to see him quite so often.” 

“Jessamine, be polite,” Charlotte said wearily, taking a slow sip from her tea. 

Jessamine humphed. Jem knew Will could be tiresome, but this knowledge was now slightly diluted by three months worth of memories of Will’s kisses. Instead of the usual exasperation and defence that anyone complaining about Will usually inspired in Jem, Jem felt surprisingly furious. Just because Jessamine was incapable of seeing Will as he truly was did not mean it was Will’s fault. Though Jem knew that it was. 

Jem stood and left the room without saying anything. He made his way back to his bedroom, determined to drown his annoyance in music. Vivaldi was always exceptional at catching Jem up and taking him to a place where there was no drug, no Law, nothing to make Will lash out and drink himself to oblivion. 

When he got to his room, Jem shut the door firmly, blocking out the sound of Will’s boisterous voice from downstairs.

…

Jem drew the bow across the strings slowly, drawing out the note. His hand trembled at the end, causing the note to become sharp. He cursed under his breath, continuing with the song. These last months, the yin fin had affected his strength more and more. His next few notes came out in a rush as he ford his hand to steady. 

Jem’s annoyance at the yin fin only heightened as he remembered Will’s mouth frantic against his own, Will having to initiate everything, them having to stop out of fear of Jem’s exhaustion or falling ill. And oh, Will. Will and his lashing out, Will and his drinking, Will and his pushing everyone away. Will was mercurial, in the exact sense of the world, one moment being kind and loving and gentle the next being all anger and sharp words and shoving Jem away. 

Jem let himself be lost in the music, let it wash away all his fears and worry and annoyance at the yin fen and Will and the Law. The Law, which made it illegal for them to do many of the things they do nearly every day. Jem gritted his teeth as the music slowed. He shut his eyes, trying to turn his thoughts to the music. Vivaldi, he thought. Not Will Herondale, not the Law, not yin fin. 

It almost worked. Peace and near contentment filled him, and he was nearing the end of the song when someone knocked on his door. He sighed through his nose and ceased his playing. 

“Yes?” 

The door opened and Will poked his head in. For all the grief Will had caused Jem, his heart still quickened and he still smiled when he saw Will. 

“That was an extremely melancholy song you were just playing.” 

Jem relaxed his grip on the violin and the hand holding his bow dropped to his side. Will took this as an invitation and strode into the room, collapsing with as much drama as was humanly possible onto Jem’s bed. Jem was momentarily diverted by the image of Will laying on his bed, shirt open and hair mussed, and had to instantly return to the conversation to avoid an unfortunate reaction. 

“I was practicing for your funeral,” He responded, leaning one hip against his desk. “For when the ducks finally get you.” 

Will laughed, and looked as though he was going to say something ridiculous. Instead, he propped himself up on his elbows. 

“James, I know you speak in jest, but I must know. Why were you playing something so very sad?” 

Jem sighed, and Will continued talking. 

“You are not feeling too bad today, I hope.” Will’s bright blue eyes peer up at him in the dimness of the room. 

“No, I am quite fine. Stronger than usual, in fact.”

“Then, you are not-” Will broke off, frowning. “You are not regretting…” 

He gestured vaguely, and Jem straightened. 

“No! No, I do not regret our joining.” Jem stopped, and looked out his window. The curtain was mostly drawn across it, but there was a sliver through which he could see the courtyard, and beyond it, Fleet Street. He remembered first coming to London, how dull and gray everything looked. How he had despised the cold and wet at first, how it had sent him into coughing fits and made him feel worse constantly. And how the tiny black haired boy, so full of acerbic words and vicious wit, had made those first days easier somehow. 

“Come now, Jem, old boy.” Will sprung off the bed. Jem jerked back to the moment and turned to raise an eyebrow at Will. “Come, I will not have you moping around.” 

“I am not moping-” 

Will lept into a fighting stance, fists up, and tossed his glorious black hair out of his eyes. 

“Fight me.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Sparring will take your mind off of what you were just now thinking, whatever it was.” Jem doubted that, seeing as what was largely on his mind was Will, and every time they sparred they ended tangled up together, mouths pressed in desperate, needy motions. Still, Will bobbed on his feet slightly, grinning wickedly. “So…fight me.” 

Jem set down his violin. 

“You just want me to pin you against the wall again.” 

“Last time was a fluke. I shall be pinning you against the wall this time.” 

Jem snorted. “Is that a challenge?” 

Will’s eyes flashed. Jem moved, bringing his arms up to block his face. Nothing had happened whatsoever on any patrols for a month, and Jem was beginning to fill with nervous energy. Normally his illness prohibited such fidgeting, but when he had nothing better to spend his energy on, he found himself aching for a fight. 

They circled each other, Jem determined not to make the first attack. He had almost lost patience when Will jabbed at him, swinging low and fast. With some surprise, Jem jumped back. He blocked the punch, striking at Will’s shoulder with his other hand. Will danced back before the hit could land. 

They continued this way for some time, one of them darting in for a hit then leaping back before one could land on themselves. Finally, Jem managed to catch hold on Will’s loose sleeve and pull him in close. They grappled, both hitting lighter than was strictly necessary. At one point, they toppled onto the bed, wrestling for control. Jem ended up pinning Will, and his feeling of victory was slightly lessened by the sight of Will beneath him, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, eyes bright. 

“It appears you did end up pinning me after all, though not against a wall.” Will’s voice was a little too casual, and his gaze was largely fixed on Jem’s lips. There was so little space between them and Will was breathing hard and then Jem was kissing him, unable to do anything else. 

Will kissed back instantly, body arching under Jem. Jem sat up and yanked his shirt off, unable to even feel the fury he usually did upon seeing his skinny form. All he could think about was getting his lips back on Will’s. He went to place his hands next to Will’s head, but Will placed a hand against his chest. 

“You pinning me was actually quite nice.”

Jem’s surprise melted into satisfaction and he once again placed his hands on Will’s wrists. Will made a soft noise under him as Jem squeezed. Very, very quickly, Jem was intensely dissatisfied with kissing. He transferred his grip to one hand, the other going to unbutton Will’s shirt. He got it undone and lightly pinched one of Will’s nipples, almost as an afterthought. Will made a noise in the back of his throat and his eyes fluttered shut. Interesting, Jem thought, and experimented with placing his mouth where his fingers were. He was rewarded with a little whimper. 

Jem, almost without thinking, brought his now free hand down to unbutton Will’s pants. As he went to shove them down, he stopped. Sat up. Let go of Will’s hands. This was far as they had gone before. Through some unspoken agreement, they had restrained their activities to kissing. Jem met Will’s eyes. Will nodded, then breathed an additional “Oh, yes.” 

Jem slid down the bed, keeping his eyes firmly on Will’s. 

“Tell me when to stop.” Will made a breathless noise of assent and Jem frowned. “William. I’m serious. Tell me when to stop.” 

“I will. I swear on the Angel.” 

With that, Jem pulled Will’s trousers off of him. He was taken aback momentarily. Will was so much larger than he had thought. Will gave him a concerned look but Jem just lowered himself over Will again. One hand caught up Will’s wrists again, and the other began to stroke oh-so-slowly. Will made such delightful noises and Jem wondered why on earth they hadn’t done this before. 

Will’s noises became a little more desperate and Jem pulled back. Will protested, but Jem just spit in his hand. 

“Spread your legs.”

...

Will wailed, fingers spasming under Jem’s grip. Jem thrust in again. Will began to whimper as Jem sped up. Jem braced his hand on Will’s knee, other hand still firmly pinning Will’s wrists to the bed. Will’s cheeks were flushed, and his mouth was open as he panted. 

“You look,” Jem gritted out, in between thrusts. “So gorgeous right now.” 

Will’s eyes snapped open. He looked shocked, and slightly taken aback. Jem experimented again. 

“With your mouth open so wide, you’re just begging to suck on something.” 

Will whimpered, and Jem swore he saw Will’s cock twitch. Jem smiled lightly and made a mental note to keep talking. But first…

He sped up, thrusting in as deep as he could go and squeezing Will’s wrists. Will made soft little noises, feet bracing against the bed. 

“You look so good, all fucked out like this.” 

Will moaned at that, full and unabashed, Jem felt himself racing to the edge fast, so he reached a hand between them and squeezed Will’s cock. Will came instantly, and Jem pulled out and came across Will’s stomach from the feeling of Will’s convulsing around him. Will cried out, back arching and legs spasming wide. 

Jem shoved himself off and rolled to the side. Will took the moment to breathe and stop the trembling in his limbs. Jem chuckled, more a sharp exhale of breath than an actual laugh. They lay next to each other for a moment, catching their breath and laying in the afterglow. 

“You’re really quite good at that.” 

Jem looked over at Will, examining his profile in the firelight. 

“Which bit?” 

Will waved a hand, though the motion was more of a flop than a graceful movement. 

“Just-” Will’s sighed out a breath. “All of it.” 

Jem snorted lightly, rubbing a hand down Will’s arm gently. He had worried that it would be awkward, that there would be fumbling and limbs sticking out and Will pitying Jem’s lack of skills. But the second Jem had gotten Will under him, all that fear had melted away. Hearing Will mumble soft little ‘please’s and ‘oh, Jem’s felt more natural than anything he had ever done in his entire life. 

“Hey, Carstairs?” 

Jem blinked back to the present, smiling at the ‘Carstairs’. 

“Yes?”

“Just to clarify.” There was a little hitch in his voice. “Did we just sleep together?”

...

Hope you liked it :) Sorry it took so long to answer!

[elydraws]

01 │きせい かげ よこちょ

pairing: dabi x oc

genre: angst, action, dramatic, lemon (maybe future smut)

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

part 1/?  <previous next>

warnings: strong language

author’s note:  as I have already warned in the presentation chapter this is a translation of my original fanfiction (written in my language), so I hope there are no big mistakes, however I wanted to try to write it in english hoping it won't make your eyes bleed. （；´д｀）ゞ

forgive me if there is any mistake, I am not very good at translating, so if you have any suggestions about it, it is absolutely welcome.(｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

"Stars, hide your fires;

Let not light see my black and deep desires."

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈ 01 きせい かげ よこちょ (kisei kage yokochō)

THE NEON SIGNBOARD WHIRRING ABOVE HER HEAD LIKE AN ANNOYING MOSQUITO.

The writing 'Flamingo Night,' of bright pink, flickered reflected on the puddles on the ground. The rain had wet the garbage thrown out of the bins already full to the brim. The smell of rancid and mildew saturated the narrow alley she was going through.

She twisted her nose, trying not to notice the acrid stench of spoiled food. In that part of the city, despite the proximity to the center, it was not difficult to come across abandoned streets.

Few dared to venture into that area of ​​the commercial district unless you wanted to take the risk of getting ripped off.

As much as the heroes boasted that they made cities crime-free, there were corners of them still in the hands of the gangland. They were well hidden, concealed by the lights of the skyscrapers, and far from the cameras and residential homes for families.

Mostly they were suburban neighborhoods patrolled only by the police or small groups of minor heroes. 

Everything took place under unsuspecting or corrupt eyes, masked with signs such as that of the 'Flamingo' or the small night market at the end of the street.

Without evidence and moving in the shadows, the villains in the area could not be arrested. The omerta of who lived there allowed the crimes to be committed even in the light of the day.

Nobody saw or heard anything at 'Kisei Kage Yokocho.' Kisei Kage was a slang born just before the Age of Watchers to indicate the neighborhoods in the hands of criminals who used their quirks to sow panic among those without Meta skills. With the Vigilantes and later the Heroes legally recognized by the government, the areas under the control of the underworld had drastically reduced, reaching a few frightened alleys and some shops scattered here and there.

They were the thin and blurred gray line between the significant organized criminal gangs and ordinary citizens.

A life lived like rats in the sewers. You know they are there, that they move under your feet. Sometimes you can hear them scratching in the ground, but you don't realize it until one sneaks between your feet. A miserable existence, perhaps, but a choice for many of them was a privilege.

It was a cruel world: if you were lucky enough to call yourself 'Hero,' you were allowed to do everything, and you could observe the rest of humanity from above, judging it. Power was in their hands.

If they decided you were the bad guy and rebelled, they had a chance to kill you. Take your life without blinking an eye and without consequences.

The government, on these occasions, set its gaze elsewhere. Sometimes the mayor even patted the hero on duty on the shoulder and complimented him for his excellent job.

"Thanks for making the roads safer."

That sounded very like: thank you for getting rid of the trash.

They were none other than this in the eyes of society.

Garbage.

Nobody had ever bothered to ask why. At the end of a clash, journalists had eyes only for the hero; nobody had ever approached a villain asking: "why are you doing all this?".

No one care about a Villain's past or his reasons. What pushed him into the shadows of the alleys, in the darkest meanders of the human soul.

It would be too tricky to humanize the category, to go to think that there is something else underneath or that their idolized Heroes are not all knights in bright armor, and the Villains are not those monsters that move under the bed at night, while everyone is asleep.

It would have been too much to handle for the fragile minds of those who only ask to be safe in a world where only the one with the strongest Quirk can win. A society divided between black and white.

The girl stopped in the middle of the alley. The tip of her sneakers touched a puddle, wrinkling it.

Her figure distorted, becoming unrecognizable, illuminated by the pink neon sign. If this was what she was destined to become, so be it. She would get her hands dirty because she was already born stained with an unforgivable shame in the eyes of society. It was her future. Her fate was sealed even before she was born.

The daughter of a Villain can only aspire to become nothing but rubbish.

At the end of the road, bordered by two tall buildings, the headlights of the cars on the main highway darted at high speed, leaving a bright trail.

Although it was late in the evening, the main streets were still full of life, the voices and waves of laughter rang among the constructions, up to her.

She looked up, and her eyes, in the darkness of the alley, shone like amethysts when they met the soft light of the shy street lamp in the corner. A moth continued to fly close to it, unable to land.

"I'm tired of the games, come out, you've been following me for a while now" the girl's voice sounded bored but sweet and inviting like honey for flies. 

The sentence remained suspended in the stillness of the alley.

A rat, around the corner of the Night entrance behind her, pawed towards a dumpster. Something must have frightened him, but, other than the rhythmic dripping of the water from the rusty fire ladder above her head and the distant echo of the city, there was no other noise to interrupt that glacial calm.

She didn't even make an effort to turn around when a can was kicked against the wall next to her and bounced off the center of the alley.

"Uh-oh, someone's in trouble," murmured a male voice behind her.

Another joined the first, very similar, but harder and hoarser, "I DID KNOW! you are truly an incapable!"

A lonely figure, however, emerged from the shadow of the building.

The girl smiled, her lips, adorned with a matte dark brown lipstick, rose to one corner showing the tip of the canines as white as pearls.

She had noticed the man's presence since she left the establishment for her latest job, a pawn shop a neighborhood further south. She had tried to sow the intruder, with fake streets and taking him away from where she lived, but that guy was a tough nut to crack, and he hadn't let go.

He was not a hero. It did not seem to act as such, nor did it look like it. She also crossed out the idea of ​​the policeman. He was too smart to be part of the police. Excluding those possibilities, this reduced the stranger's intentions to two unique options: a competitor who wanted to try to cut her out of the game or someone interested in sharing a slice of her thefts.

"What do you want?"

The man behind her winced, "Uh, right to the point, eh? What a daring girl!" the first voice squeaked.

"Rude!" croaked the second one. But they both came from that single, eccentric man.

A personality disorder? She asked herself, raising an eyebrow.

"Cut to the chase, I'm a busy woman," she said, barely lifting one shoulder, annoyed at the interruption.

What a pain in the ass. She was savoring the sweet and creamy taste of the Bubble Tea from her favorite kiosk before the arrival of that nuisance. The girl reached into the pockets of the military green bomber jacket she was wearing. 

She didn't want to waste time with a madman.

"SUPER RUDE!!!!"

"They warned me that you weren't very patient, Lady Hazard... or should I call you Unmei Nakano?"

Upon hearing her name spoken, the girl backed away, turning three quarters so she could finally face her pursuer.

She was impressed. That guy had discovered her true identity despite all the precautions she had taken. 

She didn't let the annoyance leak; however, she just raised an eyebrow.

He was probably keeping an eye on her for longer than she had imagined.

"I thought you were just a stalker, but I was wrong," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders without taking her hands out of the pockets. Her fingers tightened the grip on the handle of the snap knife inside the jacket—a slow and calculated movement.

But if he already knew her identity, he was probably already aware of her tricks and the weapons she had carefully hidden under the clothes.

The cold metal of the Bo pressed against her ribs, reassuring her with her presence, hidden by the mustard crop top. She would never be able to reach it in time and without showing up, not with that strange defensive guy.

The man put the hands on his hips. 

She couldn't recognize any physiognomy because of the full spandex mask that concealed his face. She could guess his expressions thanks to the orbits of the disguise, which followed every movement of his eyebrow arch. Now, the empty orbits thinned; he was probably trying to precede her next move.

The rest of the man's body was also covered in a tight, black, and gray suit.

"A stalker? Me? What made you think that?" the gentlest voice trilled as he shrugged. He seemed almost offended by such a claim.

"Because maybe you were following her like a maniac! DEFICIENT!" the other voice shouted against himself. The body of the stranger folded in on himself, grabbing his head as if he wanted to split it in two. He composed himself after that fit of anger and went back to speaking as if nothing had happened.

"I'm here for a business proposal. See our organization ..."

Unmei grimaced. "I am not interested," she abruptly interrupted him, returning to walk towards the end of the alley. The grip on the knife in her pocket, however, did not loosen.

For a moment, the man was contradicted by her answer before recovering from the momentary shock "AT LEAST LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY YOU, STUPID SNOB GIRL!"

Unmei stopped, giving her back to him. "Besides being crazy, you are deaf, so ... I said I don't care" this time her tone was sharper.

The masked man took a step forward, but before he could reach her, a shadow stretched from the dumpster next to them, reaching up to his feet.

"WHA—?!" his assailant shouted in surprise when he suddenly found himself stuck in an unnatural position, unable to move a single muscle.

One of his feet was still in mid-air and the same arm that had stretched out to try to grab the girl. He remained suspended, completely immobilized. He could neither fall, supported by a strange force that pivoted on his own shadow, nor advance, chained by invisible arms and fingers.

He seemed utterly taken aback by what was going on.

Unmei turned around, just as that same shadow that had elongated from the bins began to come to life, becoming more substantial and starting to go up the leg of its victim like a snake whose coils tighten around its prey.

The shadow monster came to tighten around the masked man's body until it tightened the grip on his neck, making him jump in hideous surprise.

"You did your research, but not so well," said the girl with a proud half-smile. Her long, petrol green hair slid over her shoulder as she studied the man.

The strange guy had started to tremble, gasping from lack of air.

"And ... tsch... i-if I told you ..." he tried to mark from under the mask, between the groans of pain and the attempts to breathe as much air as possible "...that we believe in a...world without he-heroes...?"

The shadow tightened its hold on the man's neck, causing him a squeak. Completely unable to move, or even just trying to loosen the grip of that thing on him, he kept talking.

His voice was now more hoarse and pasty, choked by the saliva that he could not swallow "...we... want... r-revenge ..." the last words were muffled by the lack of oxygen.

Unmei stared at him, impassive.

The man clenched his teeth under the mask. The girl could see the muscle of his jaw tightening under the cloth, his limbs starting to tremble. It was a matter of seconds before he passed out, or the shadow broke his vertebrae if that irresponsible continued to put off the inevitable.

With a wave of her fingers, the shadow let go of its victim. Her strange pursuer fell to the knees on the ground, exhausted. The man's body was shaken by violent coughs when air entered his lungs again.

The man's gloved hands touched his neck as if trying to ensure that the thing wasn't there. But the shadow, still resembling a shapeless snake, had already rolled up around Unmei's arm, peering over her shoulder like a harmless pet.

"AND THEN WE WOULD BE THE CRAZY ONE!" the man shouted in an even more hoarse voice, still crawling on the ground, before coughing again and looking up, returning meekly.

"I have to infer..." he coughed again "that this caught your attention."

Unmei bent on the knees, tilting the head to be able to fix him in the empty sockets of the mask. "You have my curiosity Zorro" she mocked him by pulling her hands out of the pockets and placing them gently on the knees.

"TWICE! My name is Twice! Slut!"

"My name is Twice," he introduced himself, reaching out a hand towards her, still trembling for the effort to speak "and welcome to the League of Villains, Unmei."

[riallasheng]

(One day I will find out what the artist one is XD)

Thank you for the link! ^^

Alright, 'full 30', here I go!!

If anyone wants me to expand on any of the questions, feel free to ask ^^

(under the cut, obviously XD )

Hm. My first fanfic? An exploration about some secondary characters from Heinlein's 'Citizen of the Galaxy' when I was 10. I'd written one or two stories before that, although they were original works (stories about my brother, his pet dog, and their adventures fighting evil - brother could turn into dinosaurs, dog could turn into prehistoric non-dinosaur animals. One of them is still in the house, somewhere XD)

I've never taken part in a event or challenge. Mostly due tending to have limited time IRL, and near equally due to how my brain works. I need to have an outline to write something. all the 'keyframes' at minimum. I literally can not write without an outline. and the time it takes me to MAKE an outline generally means that combined with limited RL time, I never could finish a work for an event or challenge

I don't really write in order or random ^^;; I tend to write my 'keystone' scenes usually fairly randomly, then I write the fic in order to fill in the rest.

I always outline, even for short works. I'm autistic and one of the elements of this is that I am incapable of writing without an outline. I've tried, but I simply can not do it. I sometimes will stray away from the initial outline... at least in a degree I will. Soemtimes I'll decide that I need to change teh story from the planned outline... and so I'll write a new outline ^^;

perfect environment is by my computer, in a comfortable chair, comfortably warm with some savory snacks and tea, pets snuggling up nearby, and tabs with research / data sources / music setting up.

When I am in the groove, I've hit over 100k words a day (helped by the fact that I have a REALLY high wpm, averaging around 120)

Combat and romance. combat I have trouble getting it to have both the fast pacing and having it be clear/interesting. Romance because I'm an old aroace and I don't really GET romance ^^;;

I listen to music, podcasts, theory / analysis videos, playthroughs, or gamers playing games (like IGP, Neebs Gaming, Markiplier, etc). It tends to be very eclectic and random ^^

I like AUs, canon compliant and UA (canon divergant) about equally.

I like dialogue, exposition and plot equally ^^

I never write smut so that's off the table XD I tend to prefer angst over fluff, so I'd probably go for that one. That said, I honestly prefer drama, which has a nice mix of angst and fluff and other elements

Eh, I've been writing for around abouts 40 years, so I've written most every trope that I'm interested in.

I won't write most smut or explicit tropes as I don't like them myself.

Ooof. I suck at these sort of questions. Can't really think of anyone, sorry

Hmmmm... of my surviving fics... Probably The Collector or Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

I don't think I have an underrated fic. I want more comments / interactions / discussions on all my fics cause I THRIVE on such, but every comment I HAVE gotten is precious and adored... so nothing is underrated to my mind

Hmmm... Probably proudest of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and of The Collector

oh man there are so many... As this is a Thunderbirds one, I'll pull from The Collector and the line might surprise people. Yup. Scott was fine. It's a small moment, but to me it really defined Scott, John, and how John SEES Scott; as well as giving a moment of false hope and certainty that everything would be fine before it is all ripped away, and that ONE MOMENT of 'yup, Scott's fine' right before Scott is stabbed in the chest live on camera is why John is so off balance and so on edge afterwards.

Easiest characters tend to be stoics and dry wit characters, hardest tend to be characters I dislike but don't hate. The reason for that is I have a rule where I can't hate-sink a character. Ihave to treat them with respect and keep them as IC as possible and try to explore and showcase them. (Now if I hate a character, I have a rule that I simply DO NOT WRITE THEM. They are either not present or, if need be, replaced by an existing character or even an OC)

Hmmm... For Thunderbirds probably John as in tos he basically is a minor / supporting character. In total? I tend to really enjoy writing supporting characters and giving them the spotlight for a bit, so... too many to list ^^;;

All of the Miraculous fics. They all were MUCH longer than intended. My re-write of As the Wyrm Turns is also getting away from me a bit XD

Nah, I can't remember ever crying while writing a fic, even in really hard hitting scenes that I felt strongly about

I kinda AM remixing one of my fics, as I'm rewriting As the Wyrm Turns from memory and a few scraps XD of my other fics... Eh, maybe I'd do a rewrite, and it probably would be to improve the writing quality or perhaps change plot elements or the like

Title creation varies. The Collector was named after the villain of the piece, As the Wyrm Turns is a pun, the Mriaculous fics followed the naming standards of the show, my Voltron fics basically told you the gist of what the story was about (Fair, Trust, 'A Cure for boredom')

Fics usually spring from two places for me. A keystone scene that the whole darn thing is crafted around progressing the plot / character arcs of an overarching story ... and sometimes it's both XD

Combat is always the hardest part for me to write XD

All sequels I write need to progress and change he plot, world, or characters in some way and/or set up for something important that would come in the sequel I REALLY want to write, but I need to set up the 'railway' connecting the two XD

I tend to care more about family and friendship FAR more than romance, I'm afraid ^^

As The Wyrm Turns: Gordon’s eyes widened and he paled sharply.  “Johnny, what did you do?” he asked, voice a bare whisper.

I have a STRONG trend towards longfic, so... well, anything I'm writing applies for this I'm afraid XD

Behind the scenes, full 30, go!!

Wait...

no...

I don't...

but

My notifs are still broken, if I don't see something in my dash, refreshing a post I've got open in a tag, or someone messaging me odds are high I'm going to have missed a meme or the like!!

;;_;;

If you send me a meme / question ask for something I haven't reposted, please send me a link to the thing too?

[danijimenezv]

Who We Used to Be

Prompt/Summary: Based on “Two Ghosts” by Harry Styles

Pairings: Tony x female!reader

Warnings: angst, bittersweet moments, implied smut

Word Count: 2260

A/N: I wrote it for Bella’s Cool Times Summer Jamz Mix Writing Challenge ( @whothehellisbella ). This takes place at the end of Captain America: Civil War. I didn’t exactly include the lyrics of the song, but I did make sure that it fits the plot :)

It had been a while since he had thought about her. Until that Friday afternoon, Tony Stark actually hadn’t thought about her for years, not really.

Tony had been working at the New Avengers for days, trying to come up with something to help Rhodes. To say he was going out of his mind was an understatement, especially after the events with Steve and the Winter Soldier. That’s why he found himself wandering around Fire Island beach, after hours of driving. He didn’t even know why exactly he had ended up there, he had just driven mindlessly.

The sand underneath his feet and the calm environment of the beach helped him think, and he found himself mulling over everything that had been happening lately, not only with Steve and the rest of the Avengers, but also with Pepper. Tony and Pepper were giving each other some time, being Iron Man finally taking its toll on her. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the person approaching him. It took him a few seconds to finally register the face that was in front of him.

She looked exactly how he remembered, even if it had been more than a decade since they last saw each other. Her hair flowed freely in the wind, giving off the vibe of freedom, and her eyes sparkled as she too recognized him. She was still as beautiful in his eyes as ever; the only difference being the small crinkles by her eyes, and the way they seemed to hold a new world of knowledge and experience. Tony’s heart picked up its pace as he continued to gawk at her, and both stood in absolute silence for some minutes, studying each other with their stares. Finally, the woman broke into a friendly smile.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again, Stark.”

“Y/N.” he sighed, “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed.”

“How have you been? I haven’t heard much about you these past years.”

“Can’t say the same about you, Iron Man.” she pointed out, laughing softly, “I’ve heard plenty of you. Every time I turn around, there you are, in the news, in some paper, or in a kid’s costume.”

Tony smirked, “Don’t pretend you don’t love seeing me so much.”

“Guess you’ll never know.” her face was a mask, and Tony was unable to know if she really did or didn’t at all, “I’ve been relatively good.”

“Still working as a doctor?”

“Forensics, yeah.”

“Kinda CSI, huh?” Tony chuckled under his breath slightly, but squirmed uncomfortably as her steely gaze seemed to look right through him, bore into his very core. As their eyes locked, Tony felt a wave of feelings washing over him, teleporting him back to the day they had first met, back to when he was barely 18.

“How bad is it?” her voice brought him out of the flashback.

“Bad? No one said anything about-”

“You can lie to anyone else, Tony, but not to me.”

She was right. Tony was used to keeping everyone at a certain distance, but Y/N practically knew him from the very start, and they had been together for years. There was no way he could hide anything from her, no matter how much he tried or how long it had been. Y/N frowned, one of her hands reaching up to cup and caress his cheek, but she suddenly became aware of what she was doing and retreated her hand slowly.

“Sorry, I know it’s been a while. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.”

Tony simply dismissed the situation with a nod. He was oddly silent, uncharacteristic of him. Y/N had never seen him like that, not in the eight years they were together. He was different from the Tony she once knew; he had seen and experienced far too many things for her to even start to comprehend what changed him. Still, that didn’t stop her from trying to reach out to him, to be there for him, not baring how in despair he looked.

“Come on, I’ll take you to get a drink. You seem like you need one.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere public.” he scratched the back of his neck.

“My place sounds fine for you?” she asked, and Tony could see the sincere concern in her shining eyes, something that, still after more than a decade, still disarmed him completely, “I’ve got booze and it’s not out in the public.”

“I’d be worried about your life decisions if it were.” he joked.

They drove for about half an hour, just two people joking and reminiscing about the past. No one would have suspected they hadn’t seen each other in years; probably because, deep down, they never stopped thinking about the other. Once in her house, they settled down fairly quickly, as if being together was an old routine they remembered well. Tony got out two glasses from one of the kitchen cabinets, while Y/N gathered a bottle of whiskey and a bucket of ice. For the following hours, all they did was exactly the same they did in the car, remember moments they lived together and the best of those years. Some memories were happy, some were sad, and some were absolutely ridiculous, but each and every one of them reminded him of a time where everything was much simpler than the problems he was now facing at the moment with the Avengers. Tony honestly couldn’t point out the exact moment he had last felt as carefree and on ease, nothing comparing to how she was making him feel in that moment.

“Come on, gulp it down. I dare you.” Tony smirked, making Y/N gasp in offense.

“You think I can’t hold my drink?”

“Sweetheart, this is the third glass of whiskey you’ve had in the past two hours. I think you can’t handle any more, much less in one gulp.”

“Watch me.” she did as she was dared, not looking unfazed in the slightest, which surprised him deeply, “See, Stark? I told you I could.”

“I just have one more question.”

“Which is?”

“How did you manage to get whiskey on your nose?”

A deep, scarlet color adorned her cheeks, but as Tony laughed at her expression, he leaned forward to clean it for her. That was the mistake, or maybe that was exactly what he needed to do. Before he could stop to think about it, he just let go of his inhibitions and followed his instinct. He crashed his lips against her in a matter of seconds, and he was relieved as she returned the gesture with as much fervor as him. The kiss was full of desperation, lust and unspoken promises, and it filled both of their veins with adrenaline. They continued kissing, their limbs ending up tangled together as their tongues messily danced together, their mouths practically clashing together as the two of them chased their own desires.

“Bedroom?” he asked in a strained voice, barely separating from her.

She panted heavily, “Down the hall, last door on the right.”

Tony woke up in the middle of the night, stretching a bit and feeling the other side of the bed cold and empty. He reached out for his discarded boxers and his pants and put them on, somehow knowing, or more like hoping, that Y/N was wearing his shirt, just like the old times. He wandered around the halls for a few minutes, before he heard soft humming coming from the kitchen, and made his way there. Easily enough, he found the woman, hunched slightly as she searched for something in the fridge.

“Want anything, Tony?” she asked casually, startling him, as she retrieved a bottle of water.

“I’m fine.” he brushed off and took a seat at the table.

“Suit yourself.” she shut the fridge door closed.

Even without the house lights or the white light from the refrigerator, the moon was intense enough to light them. The moonlight made her silhouette stand out even more, and Tony couldn’t help but admire her beauty. He wanted to say something, but what? He felt a huge lump in his throat and his tongue tied in an impossible knot, making him unable to even utter a single word. Still, even if he didn’t feel as physically incapable to talk as he was feeling right then, he didn’t know what to tell her. ‘Thanks for tonight, I’ve gotta go’? He couldn’t be a jerk to her, not after everything they had lived together. Tony yearned with all his heart it could be as simple as he used. He wished he could tell her he still loved her as much as he used to, and that they could be together again. A happy, fairy-tale ending. However, no matter how much Tony tried, the same thoughts about her fluttered around in his mind. Y/N was a throwback, a beautiful one at that, but still a throwback to a time when he was young, unburdened and definitely not scared of love and loss. She was all he had back then, and he would always love her. But the heart-shattering, ground-rumbling love he once felt for the woman in front of her, that was gone, turning her simply into a beautiful memory, meant for him to remember some of the best time of his life by her side.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Y/N interrupted his line of thoughts.

“I don’t think you do, sweetheart.” he chuckled, trying to hide the bitterness with his wit.

“You’re thinking the same thing I am.” she stated, and somehow, he knew she was telling the truth, “It’s not what you expected.”

“Y/N, I-”

“I’m under no pretense here, Tone.” she sat down in front of him, taking his calloused hands in her soft ones, “ I know last night was a one-time thing only. I know how it is. After all, everything has changed.”

“Why do I feel so broken, then?”

“Because, deep down, you and I both wanted it to be just how we remembered.”

“I thought you were the one for me all along.” Tony continued stubbornly, “Meeting again after some years wasn’t supposed to work like that.”

“Oh, Tony. My Tony.” Y/N chuckled, “Not everything is like in the movies, no matter how much we want it to be. Don’t think of us as a failure. Think of us as a beautiful experience. Now, you can put that small bother in the back of your mind to rest. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. We can finally leave it in peace, in the past, and move on to whatever life has in store for us.”

“I felt like I used you, and I definitely don’t want you to feel or even think that.” he shook his head vehemently.

“In a way, we used one other. We were both trying to relive the past, trying to feel again how that was like.” she shrugged, “Please, Tony, I knew the existence of this possibility, of things ending this way. I knew what I was getting into, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“You were too important for me.” he kissed her forehead, “You still are. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

“Not your fault. We were young, just experiencing life.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have given up on us. What if-?”

“You and I...” she whispered, caressing his cheek lovingly as she stared softly at his warm brown eyes; the same eyes she had fallen in love with back all those years, and the same eyes she would always love no matter what, “You and I will always be unfinished business, just a torrent of ‘what if’s that never came to be. It’s too late now, but I don’t regret a thing. I love you, Tony.” she clarified, “Always have, and probably always will. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart… but I’m no longer in love with you. We’ve grown apart into two very different people, and we still have a lot to figure out on our own.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony held back a sob, “I’m sorry for what we could’ve been.”

“Me too.” she sighed sadly and, in a bold move, leaned towards him and placed her lips on his, in a last, cherishing kiss, “But do me a favor.”

“For you, anything.”

“Try to be happy once again.” she practically begged him, “That’s all I want for you. I don’t know how bad things are within the Avengers, but I’m asking you this because I care about you, Anthony Edward Stark, not Iron Man, not the infamous Tony Stark.”

“I never deserved you.” he let out a breathy laugh, standing up and pulling her to him as well, his strong arms snaking around her waist almost immediately, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“On the contrary, you always did.” she snuggled further in his embrace, trying to remember every little detail, from the way his arms held her tight with strength but still delicacy as if she was his whole world, to the way he smelled like the home she used to know, “That’s why I’m still here, and I’ll always be.”

“In my heart is a memory, and there you’ll always be.” he quoted, remembering one of her favorites, which, in turn, made her grin breath-takingly.

Their love story was over, but Tony Stark could brag he had the most epic and spectacular love story to ever tell with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N.

Tags: @whothehellisbella, @thinkwritexpress-official, @buckysberrie, @sebbytrash, @bovaria, @maybe-mikala, @a-little-hell-to-raise , @hunters-from-stark-tower