#iron man x ofc

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

most people

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Prompt: “i can't believe you don't like hugs."

Summary: you come home to the tower to hear that your teammate tony has been awake for days. you take it upon yourself to get to complete some much-needed self-care.

Warnings: fluff.

Word Count: 1,741

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The door sounded with a quiet, welcoming ding as the elevator arrived on your floor, the lights of your suite already on and pleasantly dimmed to accommodate to the tenderness of your eyes this late at night. It was a little before three in the morning, and while your flight had had no major issues and the traffic between the airport and Avengers Tower had been blessedly in your favor, it was still agonizing to be getting home so late.

Home.

It still surprised you how quickly you’d come to think of this place as more than just a place to sleep, more than what had originally felt like a ridiculously over-sized hotel room. It had been only six months since Loki’s attack on New York, and while the renovations to the Tower were not yet finished, your suite had been one of the first floors to be completed. And now it somehow felt far more familiar to you than any of the countless beds you had claimed over the last twenty-seven years.

“Welcome back, Ms. Y/L/N,” the cool, friendly voice of Tony’s personal assistant sounded from the invisible speakers above you. “I trust your journey was pleasant.”

“It was, for a nine-hour flight in a broken seat,” you replied with a sigh, stretching out the lingering kink in your lower back. You set your suitcase down by the elevator doors. “And how many times do I have to tell you; it’s just Y/N.”

“I’m sure only once more,” he replied. “As always.”

You chuckled, a small, tired smile lingering on your lips. “Are the others here?”

“Only Mr. Stark is in residence at the moment,” the A.I. informed you as you made your way further into your suite. You toed off your shoes, shedding your jacket and tossing it onto the nearby sofa. “Shall I inform him of your arrival?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to wake him.”

There was a slight pause. “Mr. Stark is not asleep, Ms. Y/L/N.”

How an A.I. could have a variation in tone, you weren’t sure, but you stopped halfway to unbuttoning your jeans. “And how long exactly has Tony been awake?”

“…Almost eighty-three hours, ma’am.”

“I think I hate ‘ma’am’ even more than my last name.” you sighed, casting a glance towards the room to your left. The door was ajar, and you swore your bed was calling to you. “Where is he?”

“In the lab.”

“…Okay.”

***

A wall of sound greeted you as you stepped into the lab, and you flinched. It lowered immediately to a more bearable level, and you silently praised whatever part of JARVIS’ programming it was that could pick up on your discomfort like that.

“JARVIS,” Tony said without looking up from his work. “Don’t mess with my music.”

He was at the far end of the lab, moving between a couple of workbenches and the hologram of his latest designs with the disorganized, staccato rhythm you had begun to recognize as being a sign of sleep deprivation. There was a half-empty coffee pot on the bench closest to you, the scent of it gone stale. Tony’s clothes were rumpled, as was his hair, and you frowned when you noticed the shadows under his eyes. They were made darker by the blue light of the hologram between the two of you.

“I think we can do better on these reflector panels, J.,” he continued as though he hadn’t noticed you enter. “If this suit is going to work for stealth, I’m going to need the change to be instantaneous.” He waved a hand, and parts of the suit projected in front of him dropped away. “Scrap ‘em. Take it from the top.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hello to you, too, Stark.” you said snidely despite your concern. “Or am I expected to call you ‘sir’ in here, too?”

“Only if you want me to get all tingly over it,” he retorted teasingly, finally pausing long enough to meet your eye. He gave you a genuine, if distracted and exhausted, smile.

“Most people just say ‘welcome home’.”

Tony returned to one of the benches, eyes fixating on a tablet screen. “Are you implying that I could possibly be ‘most people’?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, sidestepping an abandoned helmet prototype. There was an empty coffee mug sitting inside it. The crockery was stained with dark brown rings. You made you way around to his workbench, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of it beside him. “Tony, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

“You know the answer to that,” he said, pointedly avoiding your eye and focusing his gaze on the work in front of him. “Or did you come all the way down here just for a hug?”

“A hug? Hardly,” you said with a scoff.

Tony met your eye, raising a brow. There was a teasing tilt to his lips, a challenge in his expression. “I don’t accept that.”

“Accept what?”

“I can’t believe that you don’t like hugs.” he said, straightening. He moved to stand in front of you, his hands claiming your knees. You felt a warmth spread up from where he touched you to heat your belly, and you straightened slightly, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. “I refuse to accept it. I mean, for a woman completely capable of breaking every bone in my body with her bare hands, you’re downright cuddly.”

As he said the last words he reached up and touched the tip of his finger to your nose tauntingly, and you wrinkled it in response. He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes at him. Something about sleep deprivation always made him lighter, more teasing. While his usual jokes were witty and occasionally flirty, when you found him like this, he was… softer. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a massive dork?”

Tony’s grin widened, and he stepped back, holding up his hands as though you’d just proved his point. “See, anyone else would call me an asshole, but you – sweet, innocent thing that you are – go with ‘dork’.”

“Oh, Stark. Trust me,” you snickered, pushing yourself up off the edge of the table. It closed much of the distance between the two of you, your chest almost meeting his. You made a show of casting your eyes down over him before meeting his eye with a smirk. “If you actually knew me, the last word you’d be using to describe me is ‘innocent’.”

Intrigue flashed in his eyes, a curve to his parted lips sending an unexpected thrill up your spine. He made move to speak, but you pressed a finger to his lips. His smile widened against your skin.

“I’m sure whatever you were about to say would have been rife with innuendo, Tony,” you said. “But honestly, you kind of stink. How long’s it been since you had a shower?”

***

“Y’know, I’m not really sure why I had to stick around for this.” you called out over the sound of rushing water, folding your arms over your chest. You were standing outside the penthouse bathroom, your back against the wall beside the door. Steam billowed out of the open doorway, clinging to your bare arms.

The water shut off, and Tony’s reply came a few moments later, his voice echoing off the tile. “And here I thought you were worried about my wellbeing, sweetheart.”

“You’re not exactly at risk of drowning in the shower, Tony,” you pointed out. You heard his answering chuckle and the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of shaving cream being sprayed and a razor against skin. “And you survived it. So, can I go to bed now?”

“And miss out on this quality team-bonding time?” he called out. “Shudder to think.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “‘Team-bonding’? We’re missing a couple of key members here. Unless you’ve got Rogers stashed in your shower caddy.”

“Not exactly the member I’d pick for that,” he replied as he stepped through the doorway, wiping at his jaw with a towel. Another was slung securely around his hips. Rivulets of water marked his bare torso, droplets clinging to his chest. There was a teasing smirk on his lips, and you swallowed. “Now, Romanoff on the other hand—”

“I’m going to stop you there before this conversation devolves into casual misogyny,” you eye-rolled, holding up a hand.

“I’ll have you know I’m an equal opportunity lech.” Tony shot back, amused. “I just didn’t think Thor would fit in the caddy.”

You snorted a laugh.

“Right…” you said. He’d missed a tiny patch of shaving cream on the corner of his jaw, and you reached up to wipe it away with two fingers. Tony’s smile widened as you wiped it on his bare chest. You cleared your throat as you realized the intimacy of your actions. “Well, you’ve managed to navigate the perils of a penthouse bathroom, Iron Man. Congrats.”

“So, what’s your excuse now?”

Confusion creased the skin between your brows. “For what?”

Tony’s smirk twitched, and you recognized the challenge in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach fluttered. “For turning down a hug.”

You laughed, shaking your head disbelieving. “God, Stark, you are such a—”

Tony took hold of your arm, surprising you by pulling you toward him and bringing his lips to yours. They were soft and warm, teasing with the taste of spearmint. The clean scent of his body wash enveloped you, his fingers gentle but firm on your arm. The warmth of his body – still bolstered by the heat of the shower – leached into your skin, wrapping you in a ghost of an embrace that made you lean into him. The kiss lasted only a moment before he pulled back again, that expression of taunting flirtation still in place.

You pressed your lips together, your skin tingling. “What was that for?”

He shrugged a shoulder, tightening the towel around his waist. There was an annoying note of nonchalance in his expression, and self-assuredness that told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he’d just had on you. “Call it a thank you.”

“I—” you swallowed, forcing your breath to steady. “Most people just say ‘thank you’.”

He grinned, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Didn’t we agree that I’m not ‘most people’?”

.

.

.

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @ccbsrms @lina-mar@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13@lol-you-thought@sebbystanlover-vk@mikariell95@csigeoblue@abrunettefangirlnerd@babyblues915@aar-journey@moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley@diesinspanishbcimhispanic@sentimentalalien@agustdowney@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@patheticallysentimental@loki-is-loved

[ana-swritings]

Merry December 2022 - Day 12

Day 12 of Merry December

Prompt: Reunion

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Tony Stark x OFC (Raelynn)

Words: 508

T.W.: N/A

Summary: Coming home.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but after a serious death threat had been made against Tony and Raelynn and an attempt on their lives, they had to leave the country for a little while. At the time neither one of them was happy about it, but they both agreed to do it for the sake of the other. No one knew where they were or if they were ever coming back, having had no contact with them since the day they had left.

Rhodey was throwing his usual Christmas party at the compound, and everyone was there. Well, everyone minus Tony and Raelynn. Looking around the room, Rhodey felt a pang in his heart not seeing his best friend hanging around the room with a beer in his hand and his arm firmly wrapped around Raelynn’s waist, laughing at some silly joke Sam or Clint had made.

He was making his way to the kitchen to grab another beer when he heard a few gasps of surprise. Turning around, he was glued to his spot when he saw who was standing in the doorway of the common room, smiling like the cat who ate the canary.

It wasn’t planned. Tony and Raelynn weren’t supposed to be back in the country for another two weeks due to bureaucracy and having to get a flight to New York. But after a few calls and with Raelynn pulling some strings, they had managed to get a seat on a cargo plane and make it just in time for Rhodey’s yearly Christmas party.

Walking in the compound was a mixture of feelings, but the most prominent one was definitely happiness. They were home. Seeing everyone’s faces going from shock to happiness all in one go was priceless and watching Rhodey being speechless was icing on the cake.

Tony couldn’t resist taking a jab at his best friend. Asking him if all it took for him to learn how to shut up was for him to have to go underground, Tony watched the man roll his eyes before taking long strides towards them and enveloping him and Raelynn in a tight hug.

Letting go of the pair, Tony saw how all the people he and Raelynn had been missing throughout the whole year they had been away. Going down the line, getting hugs and kisses from everyone there, Tony couldn’t help but think of how fortunate they were.

Grabbing three beers from the kitchen, Rhodey couldn’t shake the smile on his face as he returned and gave the beers to Tony and Raelynn. Silencing everyone, he very quickly raised a toast to new and old friends, but also to the return of Tony and Raelynn and said how happy he was to have them back, a feeling echoed by everyone present.

Everyone cheered in response, making Tony and Raelynn feel something they hadn’t felt in over a year. They were home, they were finally home and there was no better feeling than the one they were feeling in that exact moment.

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[vbecker10]

Laundry Day

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Loads of Fun (Bucky x fem reader Y/N)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You and Loki are living together in the Avengers Tower and you've asked him to help you with the laundry. You decide it's the perfect opportunity to prank him but that might not have been a good idea... not if you wanted to sleep tonight that is.

Warnings: ... um nothing really, alluding to sex but not much

A/N: I finished my laundry and was folding (trying desperately to fold) my fitted sheet and I came up with this silly little thing so... enjoy 💚

You take a bottle of water out of the fridge in the common kitchen, laughing to yourself as you shake your head.

"Something funny in the fridge?" Tony asks from the island, looking up from his tablet.

You turn to him and open the bottle. "No, I was just laughing about something that could possibly get me in a lot of trouble with Loki," you barely explain.

"I have no idea what that means," Steve says as he and Bucky join the conversation.

You take a sip of water and set the bottle on the island. "I was tired of being the one who did our laundry all the time so I told Loki he needed to help me with it today," you start to tell them.

"Still not seeing the funny," Tony says sarcastically.

"I'm getting there," you wave away his comment and he chuckles. "So anyway, I told him to help and he did... an okay job of it. I mean, the dryer and him got in a bit of a fight but we finally got it done," you continue.

"Did he break the dryer cause I've gotta do like four loads of laundry tonight?" Bucky asks concerned as he pulls out the stool next to Steve.

"How could you possibly have to do four loads of laundry?" Tony turns towards him. "You own one hoodie and three henleys at most," he adds.

"Can we get back to my problem?" you pull their attention back to yourself. "I might not have much time left," you joke but you aren't actually sure how long until Loki comes looking for you.

"What did you do to him?" Steve asks, sounding concerned for your safety. Loki would never hurt you of course, he loved you too much, but when you annoyed him you always found it hard to walk the next day.

"Well, he put all the laundry away using his magic but I told him that was cheating. He said it wasn't and we went back and forth for a bit until I made him a bet," you smile. Loki could never resist a wager, especially since he always assumed he would win, and he usually did. "I bet him... something," you suddenly realize you don't necessarily want the guys to know the dirty things you promised Loki and they all look away awkwardly for a moment as if they understood that.

"Right, whatever... so the bet was for him to make the bed himself, without his magic," you tell them.

"Look, I still don't like him very much but, give him a little credit. I think he's smart enough to figure it out," Bucky says.

"Yeah, that doesn't really seem like a bet you're going to win, Y/N," Steve agrees.

"Well... I might not have except for one teeny tiny little bitty detail," you assure them.

"Which is?" Tony asks with a mixture of curiosity and agitation that the story is taking so long.

"I switched the sheet set," you say, they all stare at you confused and you sigh. "I gave him a full size set... and we have a queen bed. There's not a chance in hell he's going to be able to get the fitted sheet on and if he does manage it, I'll know he used his magic and still win," you smile broadly, proud of yourself for tricking the trickster God.

"Well that's a dangerous game to play," Steve says and before you can respond you hear Loki coming down the hall.

"Y/N," he says when he enters the kitchen. You swallow as your mouth goes dry, he does not look happy. "You cheated," he says without question.

"No, I was just..." you try to explain but he walks towards you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"You... cheated," he says slowly as he backs you into the counter by the sink.

"I mean, only a little," you say with a smile but he doesn't smile back. "And I only did it to make sure you didn't use your magic," you quickly try to explain.

"Um, I think we should go... literally anywhere else," Steve says as Loki grips your waist with both hands and keeps you pressed between himself and the counter.

"Don't worry, we're leaving," Loki says with a smirk, still looking only at you. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp and the suddenness of it and he uses one arm to hold you in place by the back of your legs as he turns to leave the kitchen. He pauses and picks up your water bottle. "You'll need to keep hydrated, it's going to be a very long night, love," he says as he carries you down the hall towards your room.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @theaudacitytowrite @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @foxherder @tonystank8

[nessieart]

Sunbeam. Mini Series.

Chapter 1

An: This has had a choke hold on me for days. So now you too have to suffer. Switches POVs, 3rd to 2nd, sorry if it's confusing!

Wc:~5k

Pairing: Tony Stark x Mutant!OFC(Fiona/Sunbeam)

She first met Tony Stark when she was 23. It was an accident, really.

Sitting in the common room at Xavier's School for the Gifted, the TV was background noise as she read her book. Logan was back, and his grunts and grumbles at the TV were distracting.

“What now, Logan? You've been complaining for 20 minutes,” she smirks at him, her toe digging into his side.

“The damn news,” he grumbles, practically crushing the remote in his hand. “Been the same thing for the last 3 goddamn months.”

When she looks over to the screen, it's another newscaster covering the disappearance of billionaire, philanthropist, and arms dealer, Tony Stark.

She hums, “I heard they were stopping military support ‘cause they don't believe he's alive.”

Logan grunts in response, flinging the remote on the coffee table next to his feet. His head falls back against the couch, and she lets out a giggle at him.

When she glances back to the TV, there were pictures of Stark from the last time anyone saw him alive. It looked like he was in a desert, a drink in hand, and the other shaking the hand of some military general.

The newscaster said the last known location was somewhere outside Afghanistan, his convoy took heavy fire, and almost everyone involved was injured or killed.

The more she thought about Stark and how the people in his life must miss him, the more her fingers tingle. The energy of the powers under her skin coming to the surface.

She places the book down so it doesn't burn. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she set something on fire.

“Need to let out some excess energy, Fi?” Logan tilts his head over to his adoptive daughter when he feels the crackle of powers in the air.

Being a mutant was a part of her. Fiona couldn't remember her early life, just living on the streets in Southern California. Until Professor Xavier and Logan rescued her. Fi, as Logan affectionately calls her, can't remember her parents. They dropped her at an orphanage when her powers first started showing.

She shakes her head, “no, just overthinking,” as she rubs her hands together, little sparks of energy pop in the air.

Soon after, she fled. Fiona was 6. She clung to Logan like gum on the sole of his shoes. He may have complained, but he didn't mind.

It was rare to see Logan without her trailing behind him the first few months.

“Fiona,” Logan shifts to get a better look at her. “You can tell me if something is bothering you, ok? I may not be, y’know,” he shrugs and gestures to himself.

“The greatest at sharing emotions?” she smirk.

Logan chuckles and gives a nod.

“Really, Logan, I'm fine,” Fiona reassures him. When she looks back at the television, the segment on Tony Stark is wrapping up, and she gives another fleeting thought about where he is.

Then it felt like she was falling. Straight through the couch, the floorboards, the mansion. Everything.

Logan calls her name, eyes in a panic, as his daughter disappears in the blink of an eye.

***

You shot out into the bright, hot sunshine some 30 feet in the air. However you got here, it was lost on you as you plummeted head over heels to the ground.

As you braced for impact, you couldn't help but notice all the sand. When you crashed down on your side, you tumbled down a sand dune. The scorching sun and sand burned at your skin as you tried to get your bearings.

You coughed the sand from your mouth as you stood, dusting it off your body, looking around.

Vast nothingness surrounded you. Endless hot sand dunes for miles.

Where the hell am I?

“Logan?” Your throat was scratchy from the sand. You coughed again to clear it. “Hello?” You called a little louder.

“You…” a voice called from behind you.

You spun around, flinging sand as you did, and brought your hands up to defend yourself. Little sparks of golden energy tickling your fingers.

The man stood a good 20 feet from you. He was sunburnt, bloody, and blistered. His old worn slacks had holes along the knees, and his gray tank top did little to protect him from the sun.

“You're here,” his voice was hoarse and rough. You wondered how long he's been out here. Wherever here is.

“I thought I imagined it, but” he laughed a little in disbelief, “you. You're here.”

“Uhh, yeah. Sorry, buddy. I don't really know where I am. Or who you are.” You spin in a circle before you face him again, “I don't even know how I got here!”

“It's me. I'm,” and when your brows furrow his shoulders slump, “Tony. Stark.”

You sputter and take a step towards him, “what? How? Where are we?”

“Afghanistan, more or less,” Stark shrugs.

You pace in a circle, still not understanding. “I was just in New York. Are you saying I'm on the OTHER SIDE of the WORLD??”

Stark falls backwards to land on his rear, panting breaths in the hot desert sun. “You’re telling me, I still can’t believe it myself.”

”Tony Stark. Oh my God. Oh my God,” you rush to him and land on your knees in front of him, hands hovering above him. “How are you - why - holy shit. Oh my God.”

”I get that a lot,” he snarks, head falling back as he shields his face from the sun with an old ratty shirt. You notice something blue glowing in the middle of his chest, but there’s more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.

”Wouldn’t happen to have a flare gun in those pajama shorts, would ya, kid?”

You look down at yourself, and sure enough, you’re in an oversized tee and pajama shorts. It was the middle of the night back in New York after all.

”I - um - well,” you bring a fist up in front of you, small sparks of gold form around your hand and then encase it in a golden bubble. You haven’t shown anyone outside of other mutants your powers before.

You can convert the sun's radiation into physical energy. Shooting golden rays of beams and projectiles of pure energy from your hands.

Sometimes when you get anxious, the power in your fingertips becomes a little unstable, and you have to release some of it so you won't cause an accident (which happens more often than not, you're still learning).

Rogue likes to call your abilities akin to the sun, like sun rays for the beams you shoot and sun orbs for the bubbles you throw. She was quick to give you the nickname Sunbeam, so it stuck.

When you glance up at Stark, he’s barely taken notice of the sudden energy emitting from your hand, eyes focused on your face.

”I’ve never - I haven’t…” Stark puts a hand on your arm and squeezes it lightly. He gives you a small nod, eyes heavy with exhaustion and face a little too sunburnt. His chapped lips pull into a thin line, you should do this. You have to do this. He’s been missing for three months. You both could die out here.

With one last big inhale, you raise your fist in the air and let loose a few energy blasts that shoot up like a firework. You open your hand and they explode like one too. Bright golden sparks of energy fill the sky a hundred feet in the air.

***

Colonel James Rhodes was not amused when he asked Tony how the hell you got in the middle of the desert in just your pajamas, when Starks only response was:

“You can see her too? I thought I was going crazy,” and never mentioned it again.

That was almost half a day ago, and now you’re about to touch down in Los Angeles.

Stark needed help getting into the dress shirt Colonel Rhodes had given him, so you tore the right sleeve of the shirt off for him.

”There, that should help,” you grinned at him. You helped him guide his arm into the sling and put it in place. “You should probably go to the hospital once we land, Mr. Stark.”

Stark hummed, picking up the suit jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

The massive Boeing C-17 plane landed on the Air Force base in Los Angeles after what felt like the longest flight of your life.

You followed Rhodes and Stark down the ramp of the plane, it seems he had people waiting for him. When your bare feet meet the tarmac, you look around, and across the lot, you see a sleek black jet, the ramp down, and two people you knew all too well waiting for you.

You ran past Stark and his group, not sparing them a second glance, “Professor? Logan!” When you reach them, you launch yourself at Logan, and he catches you with one arm around your back. He squeezes you just a little tighter than usual, but you don’t mind.

“Jesus Christ, kid. You scared the shit out of me,” Logan sets you down and puts a hand on your head. “Look a little sunburnt, too.”

“Professor, do you know what happened to me?”

Xavier hums, bringing one hand to his chin, “It seems there's more to your powers than I first thought.” He hums again, bringing a hand down to turn his wheelchair around. Before he can make it up the ramp, he pauses, “I believe someone wants to say goodbye, my dear,” he smirks.

You turn and see Stark standing a few feet away, he clears his throat, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Logan growls behind you, and you glare at him, but he doesn't move. Instead he steps closer to you and crosses his arms over his chest.

Rolling your eyes, you go over to Stark, “I guess this is goodbye,” you fiddle with your fingers, golden energy sparking along your hands. “It - um - it was nice to meet you.” Your sentence ends in a small question, shoulders up by your ears when you say it.

“You saved my life,” Stark scoffs, “I think you can do better than ‘it was nice to meet you’, kid.”

Something about him calling you kid, didn't sit well with you. It was different when Logan, Scott, or the other older mutants would say it. But hearing Tony Stark say it sounded wrong.

“I'm not a kid,” you mumble.

“Fiona,” Logan grunts from behind you, “it's time to go. Now.”

Well that leaves little room for anything else when Logan says ‘now’.

You make the quick decision to give Stark a hug, going to the side where of his uninjured arm.

It's an awkward side hug, and he definitely wasn't expecting it, “take care of yourself, alright?” And you're back tracking toward the Jet before Stark could respond.

***

“Again!” Logan shouts across the training yard. He has singe marks littered across his uniform, every hit you manage to land isn't enough to knock him on his ass.

And Logan is getting frustrated at your lack of focus.

“C'mon, Logan,” you pant, hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “We've been at this for hours! It's been nonstop for the last few months, I need a break.”

He growled, and you could practically feel it vibrate across the room, “You need to get a handle on your powers, girl,” he started stalking towards you.

You shook your hands out, golden energy sparking at your fingertips.

To give Logan credit where it was due, your bubbles of energy were getting stronger. The more you fight with the Adamantium-boned mutant, the sturdier the bubbles become. You could even create small defensive shield-like energy bubbles.

“Pay attention!” He shouted right before his clawed fist came at you.

On instinct, or panic, your arms shot out wide, a large golden shield appeared between Logan’s fist and your chest. You sigh in relief, only a small part of his Adamantium claws pierced the shield this time.

You could see his arm flexing, his foot shifting to push his fist forward. He was hardly straining, and you were struggling to keep the shield up. Your arms straining to keep the bubbles around your hands connected to the shield in front of you.

Logan pushed, claws breaking through your shield and it began to crack. When his fist finally connected with your shield, the force of the break exploded and threw you backward. You landed on your back, and the force knocked the wind out of you.

“I told you, kid,” Logan began stalking towards you again, “get your shit together!”

Before he could reach you, he was stopped mid stride, and he flew backwards as well. Landing on his feet and skidding to a stop.

When you sat up, you could see Jean glaring at Logan, her hand coming down from her temples.

“That's enough, Logan,” her voice is finite. There's no room for arguing.

Jean kneels down next to you and places her hand on your shoulder. Her face is full of concern when she sees a gash on your cheek. You feel the blood trickle down and bring your hand up to wipe it away.

“Ow,” you pull your fingers away, and they come away soaked in blood, “must've been from my shield.”

Jean helps you stand, a few cuts are on your uniform, small specs of blood seeping through.

“Come on, Fi, let's have Hank take a look at you,” Jean leads you out of the training room, and before the doors close behind you, she waves her hand and you hear a loud thud. Logan plummets to the floor and shouts a curse out just as the doors close.

***

Turns out, the cut on your cheek was from Logan’s claw nicking your skin. Hank had to stitch it closed, or it wouldn't heal right. All the other small cuts were from your shield shattering, but nothing some antiseptic and a few band-aids couldn't fix.

Your hands had seen better days. They took the full force of your energy breaking. They looked burned, but Hank assured you they weren't.

“It most likely occurred when the build up of force from Logan’s punch and your energy containment orbs couldn't withstand the pressure,” Hank was wrapping your hands in gauze. Careful, clawed blue fingers handle you with care. He went on to explain how to care for the injury, and if you needed help, to find him and he'll do it.

You zoned out as Hank continued to talk. The voices growing in volume outside the medical room doors caught your attention.

Hank turned his back to you as he cleaned up, and you made your way towards the door, pushing it open just a crack.

“He's being reckless with her, Professor!” Jean's hands were wildly articulating to get her point across. “She’s in there right now because Logan can't control his temper or his strength,” she huffs.

Xavier seems to sense your eyes on him, and he looks up, going to speak, but you're sure he can read your mind without even trying.

Logan is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He scoffs, “yeah, and she'll never figure out how t'unlock those Teleportin' powers unless I push 'er to do it,” he rolls his shoulders and gives the Professor a knowing look. “She asked for my help, and I'm doin’ just that.”

You open the door and step out into the hallway. You can see the group of eyes scan your body. The tank top and gym shorts Hank had you change into doing little to hide the cuts, scrapes, and bruises littered over your body.

You meet Logan’s eyes, and you notice the moment he sees the stitches on your cheek from his claws. His shoulders slump, and his arms drop to his side.

When he goes to speak, you hold up a hand, “I'm not a kid anymore,” you lift your chin just a little bit, “I appreciate you looking out for me, Jean, but I can handle myself. And Logan is right, I did ask him to help me because I knew he wouldn't hold back.”

You take a deep breath, and you feel something change in the air around you, “don't be sorry. Because I'm not,” and you step back into a crack that's formed behind you.

One second, you're staring at your friends in the Manson. You're sure you see the Professor give you a smile. Then, the next, you're in a garage. A half dozen expensive and fancy cars line the one side of the wall.

“Uuhh, how did you get in here? Who are you?” A voice says behind you. You haven't heard it in almost 5 months. “JARVIS?”

You spin around, and there stands Tony Stark in a wife beater and dark jeans. Hair a little disheveled. Some weird red and gold gauntlet adorning his right hand.

Sir, should I notify the authorities?

A disembodied voice says from around you, it makes you jump a little, fingers sparking, and then the energy dies out.

“No, it's fine, J. Fiona,” Stark's shoulders slump, and he makes his way toward you.

“Surprise?” You say, giving him little jazz hands, as much as your bandaged hands allow. You look around the garage. Behind Stark, there's a bunch of broken glass. The television on the wall talks about another attack in the Middle East.

“What happened here?”

He ignores you and brings his left hand to your cheek, right below the stitches on your left cheekbone.

“What the hell happened to you?” There's concern in his eyes, and you tilt your head to look at him.

“Training gone wrong,” you shrug. Stark picks up one of your hands by the wrist, bringing it to his face.

“And this?”

“The energy had to go somewhere,” you shrug again. Flexing your fingers, little sparks of energy radiate from the tips and travel down to where his hand is on your wrist.

Stark's eyes widened, fingers tightening a little, “What - I didn't imagine it?” You shake your head no. “What is it? How can you do that?”

You were expecting him to pull away in disgust or ask what you were. Maybe it's the genius in him that wants to figure out how your powers work.

“I'm a mutant,” that should explain everything, but his eyebrows pull together in confusion as he meets your eyes. “y’know, individuals with unexplained powers. The X-gene? I was born this way.”

Stark hums, stepping away and letting your wrist go. “Yeah, let's put a pin in that,” he takes his gauntlet off and holds up a finger as he runs up the stairs.

***

“Wow…” is all you say. Stark had his robots, or whatever they were, help him into this… suit. Different arms and parts are coming up out of the floor.

“That's amazing. You built this? What - what does it do?”

“Sit, watch. You'll see,” his tinny voice comes through the helmet on his head, and then he is off like a rocket up the ramp and out of the garage.

A moment later, the screens on the desk came to life, showing Stark's face on one screen and a HUD display of what he could see on the other.

“This - this is amazing. You're amazing! You can fly!” You laughed. You weren't new to people being able to fly. Some of your close friends could fly, but they were mutants. Stark was human. And he could fly.

Tony wouldn't admit the praise made him blush and a little flustered. He cleared his throat as his thrusters pushed him faster through the sky.

“Yeah, I'm pretty badass.”

You watched through the screens as night slowly turned to day. He cleared the Pacific Ocean in less than 10 minutes. You could hear the sonic boom from the sound barrier breaking as Stark flew faster.

Soon, he was landing at his destination. The chaos around the war-torn village quickly came to a halt as Stark used some kind of energy blasts out of his gauntlets.

Well, that looked familiar.

Just as he turned around, armed men grabbed hold of innocent villagers, the threat making your breath hitch.

“Tony…” You breathed, and he lowered his hands. Then the HUD scanned the faces of the people around him, labeling them hostile or civilians. In the next breath, small projectiles shot out of the suit and incapacitated the hostile forces.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Stark left Gulmira, but not before destroying what looked like Stark Industries labeled missiles.

***

“What was all that?” You asked.

Stark had just returned after his harrowing run in with the Air Force after his impromptu trip to Gulmira. Now, the robotic system was trying to get him out of the suit.

You rolled the chair away from the desk with a flair, pushing off and slowly coming to a stop to the side of Stark. He looked over at you with a smirk.

The robotic arms tugged and pulled, trying to get the suit off him, “Hey, ow! Watch it - ah ow!”

Well, it is a tight fit, sir.

You giggle at his discomfort, swinging the chair back and forth.

Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt.

“Be gentle, it's my first time,” his leg was in the air as an arm tried to undo the bolts.

“Maybe you need an emergency release, Stark,” you laugh when he sends you a glare.

“What's going on here?” A voice startles you, and you jump out of the rollie chair that it gets sent backward into some cabinets.

Stark slowly turns to the woman, giving her a deadpan look, “Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing.”

“Are those bullet holes?” She breathes. “And who is she?” The strawberry blonde turns to you.

“Pepper - wait. Hey - ow!”

***

It took several hours for Pepper Potts to calm down, mostly because Stark was still trying to get the suit off. She left soon after, less in shock and more emotionally drained.

“I'm going to bed,” she announced and quickly left the garage.

It was quiet for a while. You stared down at your bandaged hands, fingers fiddling with the gauze. Whatever meds Hank had given you wore off a few hours ago, and the pain had slowly returned.

“Stark,” you called to him, he turned in his chair. He looked a little worse for wear, covered in grease and dark circles under his eyes.

“I should go,” you shrugged. His brows pulled together as he studied you.

“I did some reading, by the way,” Stark got up from his chair and began fiddling with the tools lining the bench. “That little X-gene of yours.”

He looked up through his lashes at you, one eyebrow raised.

You nodded, coming up to the other side of the tool bench from him.

“A lot of articles published by a Professor Charles Xavier,” he continued. “Pretty smart, your Professor. Attending Bard College at age 16. Graduating with a bachelor's degree in biology in only two years. A world-renowned geneticist with multiple Ph.D.s.

“And he'd rather teach at a school full of children. In the middle of Westchester? Never really added up. Until I met you.”

Stark had made his way around the bench to stand next to you, “what can you really do?” His eyes bounced between yours, a look of wonder in his irises.

You laugh lightly, “I'd show you if I could,” You hold your hands up. The bandages need to be changed soon. You wiggle your fingers, “all out of juice, sorry Stark.”

He studies you for a moment, leaning his hip against the table, “can you get back?”

You hum, you suppose you could. “It's different, making the portals and shooting a beam out of my hands,” You put a hand on his chest, a zap running up your arm and down your spine when you do.

Stark inhales sharply, eyes wide as he looks down at your hand on the glowing circle in his chest.

He explained to you that it was keeping him alive, keeping the shrapnel from the bomb explosion from reaching his heart. The arc, or something.

“Whoa,” you both said in unison.

The air around you is thick and charged. Whether it's from your powers sparking in the air or the closeness between the two of you, you can't be sure.

Stark leans his head down, tilting to the side to try and catch your eye, but before he can open his mouth to speak, you take a step back. Hand falling to your side as you go.

Sir, the diagnostics are finished. Seems to be multiple–

“Yea, ok JARVIS, I got it,” he cuts off his AI as he watches you back up.

“It was good to see you again, Stark,” you say, one hand coming up next to you, “stay out of trouble, ok?” A spark ignites at your fingertips. A bright tear like line appears in thin air. It opens, and it sounds like ripping paper in half.

The portal glows a golden orange like your powers, it's long enough for you to step into. You give him one last wave and a smile before you step through, the garage and Tony disappearing in the blink of an eye.

***

A week later, your cuts and the energy burns on your hands have healed almost completely.

Hank had taken the stitches on your cheek out. The gash would leave a scar, but you don't mind too much. A butterfly bandage keeps the gash closed so it can heal more.

Now, as you walk down the halls of the mansion, you're stopped by Rogue. She has a coy smile on her face.

“Have ya heard, sugah?” Her accent shines through as she nudges her clothed elbow against yours.

“Heard what? What's got you all giddy for?” You both stop near the library, her pulling you to the side like she has a secret to tell you. Well, maybe she does.

“That guy ya saved a few months back? They say he's the man in that red n’ gold suit we saw on the news the other night,” Rogue is grinning from ear to ear, her gloved hand grabs yours and pulls you further down the hall.

A few others are in the common room, crowded around the TV. Colonel Rhodes is talking about the explosion that happened the next night after you left Stark's house.

The marquee under the podium reads: STARK INDUSTRIES CEO TONY STARK TO READ A PREPARED STATEMENT TO THE PRESS IN COMING MOMENTS.

“You think he's a mutant, too?”

“No way, just some rich guy with too much time on his hands.”

There's chatter around the room, and Rogue leans into you more.

“Ya think his body turns inta’ all that shiny metal or sumthin’?”

You scoff at Rogue, and she elbows you again, giggling.

“Ya should go n’ see him,” she says quietly after a few minutes.

“What? No way would Logan let me go,” you roll your eyes at your best friend. “And he's not a mutant, Ro.”

“Says you,” she sticks her tongue out, “I won't tell him, sugah, swear.”

It takes hardly any more convincing for you to sneak out of the common room and into the library to make a portal and be where Stark is.

The sound echoes in the library, a loud rip sounds like 10 ripped pages of paper, the golden yellow portal opens, and you step through it.

You step into a hallway, you can hear chatter on your left, and you follow the noise.

It's the same room you saw on TV only moments ago back in New York. The room is filled with reporters and news crews, Rhodes is finishing up his speech and introduces Stark.

You're standing in the back, sticking out like a sore thumb with your ripped jeans and crop top. You may have borrowed Rogue's leather jacket, but you know she doesn't mind.

Your breath catches as Stark takes his place behind the podium, small bouts of conversation flair as he looks around the room. A few cameras flash, reporters raise their recorders up higher to make sure they get every detail of Stark's speech.

His eyes catch yours, and the corner of his mouth turns up a little, his lips pursed.

“Um,” he clears his throat as he looks around the room again, “it's been a while since I was in front of you. Figure I'll stick to the cards this time.”

You smile, and some people around the room chuckle. He's very personable, but you suppose he has to be.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Stark,” a woman reporter interrupts, “but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared–”

Stark cuts her off, “I know that it's confusing. It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a superhero.”

“I never said you were a superhero,” she crosses her arms.

“Didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and fantastic. I'm just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public,” Stark word vomits everywhere. Rhodes leans in and whispers in his ear. Stark nods.

He holds the cards up and clears his throat, “the truth is,” he stalls, eyes roaming the flash card in his hand. He glances up and finds your eyes on him, a glint in his irises as a smirk pulls at his lips.

“I am Iron Man.”

[artemiseamoon]

Not You (pt 3)

Lloyd Hansen x Ofc

@writersironchef week #3 @littleferal

fic info and previous parts

Total words: 1,381

Warnings: a mission that gets bloody, torture, language

An: yeah it’s a fic now, and ofc 😂 once it’s done, I’ll edit it then post in a fic format.

This is a preview * read in full on A03

Once everything is loaded on the drive, she goes back out the way she came. When she reaches the outside, the two men are beating the shit out of each other, and one reaches over, grabs his fallen gun, and shoots the other in the leg.

"Wow." Chiara watches a second longer, then gets the hell out of there.

You can't take days like this for granted, and you got to get going while lucks still on your side. When she reaches the car and puts the key in the ignition, her mind goes to Lloyd.

He's on the other side of town doing what he does best, in some dark cavernous room under the earth. Since the kiss in the kitchen, things have been extremely awkward between them, and he's been disturbingly quiet. Not even a joke or vile comment in sight. Due to a change in travel plans for their target, they had to sit a little longer before acting.

So, one tense weird week passed at the lake house, their new location, as they waited for this day to come. Though the tension is unbearable, Chiara has no idea how to fix it, or what to even say to him. Instead, she avoids him except then they have to talk and combine brains, and it's the same tactic he's using for her as well. Chiara didn't think she'd ever miss Lloyd being - well - Lloyd, but after a week of weirdly quiet sullen Lloyd, she kind of wants the old one back. Not that she would tell him that.

Continue reading on A03

More writers iron chef

[angelixrr]

hey, can i request a nsfw drabble with alastor and a bunnygirl reader with predator and prey? thank you!

yes ofc!! tysm for the request i really love getting them and i'm excited to get one so soon!! i really appreciate it love kisskiss mwah . tbh ikkk you said drabble. But it's kind of more of a ficlet. enjoyyy !!

alastor x bun!reader

cw for nsfw, noncon, fem!reader, predator/prey, blood, n references to vomit (reader doesn't puke tho)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Running through the pride ring was no different than running through a forest. The streets twisted and turned like forest paths, and the shadowed alleyways resembled the brush shaded by trees. However, unlike the sereneness of the forest, where it was possible to know if you were followed, the loud atmosphere of the pride ring made it impossible to tell if someone followed you. No twigs snapped, no leaves rustled, and the chatter of sinners and demons alike disguised any sound that could clue you into wherever your predator was, and this terrified you. You were scared of the man chasing you; Alastor wasn’t like any other mortal man or sinner you had crossed. He stopped at nothing to have you in your clutches and wanted nothing more to ensnare you in his grasp, like a hunter hunting a poor little rabbit.

It was ironic, you thought. A sinner with deer traits could be such a daunting predator, but you couldn’t think more along these lines, because you knew he was hot on your trail ever since you ran away from him at the hotel. He was in your room, touching your things, your drawer wide open, while he held a pair of lacey panties, pants unbuckled to reveal his length as he rutted into the bundle of fabric. That was your last straw. Alastor had overstepped your boundaries previously; frequently, he would be too close to you, put his hands on you unexpectedly, and seemingly would sniff the air when you were around. But this was unacceptable. Tears had brimmed in your eyes when you ran away from the hotel, feeling invaded in a space that you thought could be your safe haven, but, with Alastor there, it couldn’t be. He was a wolf among sheep and had threatened you long enough. You needed time to decide what to do next and where to go. But most importantly, you needed to get away from Alastor.

After running for what felt like forever, you finally allowed yourself some rest, ducking into an alleyway. It wasn’t clean, by any means, but it was secluded enough to be considered safe from Alastor. Honestly, you would rather brave a random sinner than the overlord. The average crook was nothing compared to him. You heaved a sigh, trying to catch your breath from the running, crouching on the floor. Your sensitive bunny nose quickly picked up on the smell of blood, booze, and bile and scrunched up, but it was just something you’d have to deal with. Your rabbit ears twitch with each footstep that passes through the alleyway, and you dread hearing the sharp click of his heels against the pavement, but they didn’t come. You waited for what felt like an hour, and you finally felt safe. Allowing yourself to relax, you gingerly sit on the cleanest piece of pavement you could find and sink against the wall. You shut your eyes for what you were certain was just a moment, a mere few seconds, but when you opened them, you recoiled in shock.

Alastor was there. Leaning down, sanguine eyes glaring dead into your soul.

“Ah! Cher! I thought I almost lost you! You’re lucky I know the pride ring so well. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found you, dear.”

Your face contorts itself into shock and horror, your ears drop down to the sides of your head, and you glare at Alastor, shoving his face away from yours.

“Leave me alone, Alastor. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Alastor merely offers a hearty laugh as if you’d just told him the funniest joke of the century. He tilts your head up with his microphone, offering you a charming smile.

“Cher! Enough with this outburst! It’s unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself. You belong at the hotel, simple as that. It’s so much more unsafe out here, you know.”

Your gaze hardens, and you flip Alastor off.

“I said fuck off, you creep! Leave me alone! You’re a fucking freak for what you did, and you’re an even bigger freak for following me here! Crawl back into whatever hole you came out of and just die!”

You spit words venomously and scramble to get up, but you don’t get far before you feel the weight of Alastor slam into your back, sending you reeling to the floor. You smell blood; some of it is yours from your now-skinned knees. Squirming, you try to struggle against Alastor to the best of your abilities but can’t make much leeway. His lithe body was much stronger than it looked.

“Let me go, let me go! Whatever you want from me, you can find it somewhere else!”

Tears are streaming down your flush face, which Alastor delights in. He always thought you were so much prettier in distress. Even when the two of you spent nights at the bar, chatting while you had loosened up, your face flush and eyes lidded, you weren’t nearly as pretty then as you were now.

“Dearest, I just want to help you, but I can’t do that until I put a little bit of sense into your silly little brain. You will be coming back with me, you will be staying at the hotel, and you will start being the good little bunny I know you can be, alright?”

You don’t respond; your crying doesn’t permit it, but Alastor thinks that’s okay. Actually, he’d prefer it if you stayed like this. You talked back much less when you were in pain. Alastor’s hands find their way up your shirt and underneath your bra. He tugs on your nipples harshly, raking his nails over what skin he can get his claws on and leaving blood to pool in their wake. Your wails have subsided to sniffles now, seemingly accepting of your fate. Alastor revels in this; the moment prey becomes docile, understanding its place in the world to be devoured was his favorite. With your newfound submission, Alastor strips you of your bottoms and pulls your panties down to your knees.

The location was not optimal, but he didn’t fancy dragging you back screaming and crying to teach you a lesson. Charlie and the rest of the residents would catch on to his actions. No, he needed to teach you a lesson now. Unzipping his slacks, Alastor pulls out his cock, giving himself a few strokes to spread his precum across his length; he thought that was all the prep you deserved. Holding your head to the floor, Alastor slowly pushes his length into your pussy, ears folded as his face contorts in pleasure. He was glad you couldn’t see him like this; he hated losing his composure. Alastor gave you just a moment to adjust to his length, but afterward, he began thrusting with reckless abandon. You cry out. His cock stretching you out hurt, but being fucked so roughly with such little prep hurt worse. Pleasure and pain molded together, the sensation of him stretching you out, hitting against your cervix as he pounded you, combined with the sensation of blood dripping down your skin from the scratches. You whimper and sob, but mixed between your noises of stress and pain, and you can’t help but cry out in pleasure. It hurt, but it felt good. A paradoxical cocktail of your emotional and physical suffering with pleasure poured over you, and you had lost yourself to it. With each thrust, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, and you try to grab at anything for purchase, but Alastor doesn’t let you. He merely yanks at your bunny ears, pulling you back on his dick.

“Fuuck, Alastor, fuck, stop, please. I don’t want this. It hurts.”

You attempt to tell him to try and save your pride, but it does nothing to deter him. If anything, it only turns him on more, causing him to thrust against you deeper, wanting you to come undone on him. He could feel you tightening up, squirming against him. He wanted you to realize your place as a dumb bunny cocksleeve. You can no longer hear static when he speaks, just his raw voice, occasionally letting out a muffled moan or grunt. From the heavy panting behind you, you can only guess he’s close as well. With a particularly rough thrust, combined with his hand coming down to rub at your clit, Alastor makes you cream around his length, and you practically go limp from such a hard orgasm. Alastor uses your body like a sex doll, thrusting into your cunt until you feel him cum inside you. At this point, you’re beyond exhausted and don’t resist, merely dropping to the floor when Alastor pulls out, cum dripping down your thighs and onto the concrete. Alastor quickly fixes himself, tucking his cock back into his pants, and pockets your panties. In addition, he slips on your bottoms, picks you up, and teleports the two of you back to the hotel, to his room. He didn’t want another incident like last time, so he figured if he just kept you here, he wouldn’t have to steal your panties again; he could indulge in the real thing: his favorite little bunny.

[justice-maul]

Hi maul!! Would it be cool if I requested Tony Stark x Younger Poolboy reader smut headcanons? (DomTop reader ofc) I know from your post that college is kicking your ass rn so take as much time as you want with this👌🏾👌🏾

Tony Stark x Younger Poolboy Male Reader | Headcanons

Word count: 2,344

Summary: Pepper and Tony are not together and this is set before Iron Man 3 before his mansion was destroyed

Author Note: Keep in mind, English isn’t my first language, thank you anon your very sweet and I love writing about Tony Stark I’m obsessed with this man 😩 I made it extra long as a peace offering lol 😭

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Tony, age gap (not specific), porn with plot, reader is muscular and tall, manhandling kink, cum, degrading praise, humiliation, mentions of rough sex, and making out

Tony was a playboy so things like pool parties were a must and when it got too dirty (cause he never cleans it after) he told his assistant Pepper to get a poolboy so she hired one paying before hand and he almost forgot about it until you came over,

Pepper happened to be out that day so when there was a knock on the door he was forced with a groan to go and answer it only to be completely awestruck by the man he saw

He could tell that you were younger then him and you were very attractive to say the least, you were tall and well built so even while you were introducing yourself as his poolboy and trying to be professional he was barely paying attention

"Do you have any experience as a pool boy or…?" He asked staring at you thoughtfully and then added after a few seconds “Actually, I don't really care, I just want to look at you"

He said with a playful smile and considering that Tony’s playboy ways weren’t exactly hidden from the public you weren’t that surprised only raising an eyebrow at the comment

“Do you want me to get started Mr. Stark?” You said clearing your throat to which he immediately nodded his lips curving into a smirk

"Yes but I want you to call me Tony" his eyes continuing to rake over your body intently as he talks "Well? Are you ready to get started?" He steps to the side giving you room to come in

“Sure… Tony.” You said with a small smile not being used to talking to a man as powerful as him so casually as you walked through his large mansion following behind him “So, Y/n, can you actually clean a pool or is that just an excuse to see me?” He says in a teasing voice

Trying to be a professional you ignored the flirtatious comment giving a small half chuckle “You don’t have to worry about that Tony, I know how to clean a pool,” You said with a reassuring smile as he lead you to your pool

“Well then, if you know how to clean the pool, I’ll let you get to work,” he said in a playful voice as he sat down in a chair by the pool, his arms crossed against his chest, watching you shamelessly with his sunglasses on and a wide grin on his lips as he watched you work for a while

“Your a really good at this Y/n, how about you come back and continue working as my pool boy?” He asks when he sees you done with the pool looking you up and down all over watching as your muscles flexed with your every move “Sure, I don’t mind doing that for you,”

"I'm going to give you my number so you can call me anytime handsome," he pulls out his wallet handing you a business card "You could go ahead and save that in your contacts,” he says with a wink before turning to leave going back to his work letting you see yourself out

And that’s how it all started, every week you’d come over and get work done for him and every time like there was nothing better to do, Tony would stand by and watch making the occasional flirty comments, and every time he planned some excuse for Pepper to leave for a long time so he could get some alone time with you

To say Tony had constant lust filled thoughts about his pool boy was an understatement, Tony was already usually dominant and always on top but every time he thought of Y/n he was on the bottom it was a completely new feeling to him one that he hasn’t experienced before but that only made him more excited and more… impatient. Every night was a new fantasy of the pool boy with different scenarios of Y/n manhandling him but soon the imagination wasn’t enough he wanted more and his body was begging for attention

You’ve been working for Tony for a while now and he asked you to come over and help him with the pool and like usual you came over, Tony opened the door, greeting you with his red robe on and only boxers underneath as he invited you in, like usual he watched you work but for some reason today seemed different, you’ve never seen Tony only wearing that and you couldn’t say it wasn’t enticing to see

He walked over to you once you were done and put his hands around your shoulders drawing you closer to him “Tell me Y/n… have you ever been with an older man?” he said looking up into your eyes, for once he was skipping past the teasing, like he was already somewhat begging as his eyes showed pure lust and desire behind them, he watched as you shook your head no and he chuckled softly smiling again

“Then I hope your ready to start with one…” he said in a flirtatious voice and moved one of his hands to slowly rub up and down your chest feeling the well decoupled muscles underneath his hand which caused you to suck in a breath as your eyes couldn’t help but scan over his exposed body and the look in your eyes almost him whimper as he continued to stroke your chest looking like he couldn’t wait to see your clothes off as well

"Well...are you sure you want to be a pool boy? I can think of a few other more... intimate things that you could be for me,” his voice dropped to a low and seductive tone voice as he moved his hands towards your muscular and well-developed biceps gently squeezing a little “I can still be your pool boy and do… other things,” you moved your hands to grab his waist pulling him closer to you gently rubbing his side as you looked his body over

"So...you like what you see, huh?" He said teasingly as he smirked before you then moved your hand underneath his robe and gently gripped his ass causing his face to flush and for a small moan to escape his lips “I can’t say I was expecting that…” he said with a smile on his face his voice still as needy as ever “but I liked it a lot,” his smile turned into a grin as he gently squeezed your biceps a little more

You chuckled “I know you like the attention,” and then pulled him in closer so your lengths were pressed right up against each other and you were kneading his cheeks with your hands "Do you want to make me the happiest man in the whole universe?… Because I think it might already be working. You just need to keep going." He said in a breathy voice biting his bottom lip in excitement before leaning in and whispering

“I like this attention…” he added giving a look of pure lust and want , “Well who said I was planning on stopping?” You said with a small smirk and gripped his cheeks a little harder he let out another moan of pleasure and his hands squeezed your biceps in an attempt to calm his heart that was practically beating out of his chest as he let out a small sigh “Oh this is exactly how I imagined it…” he said sucking a breath

“Well this isn’t the exact way I imagined it but it’s pretty close,” you whispered with a small chuckle as he stared at your face a small smile spreading on his lips “Well what did you imagine?…” he asked his voice was now more flirtatious and full of desire as his small smile turned into a large smirk as you leaned closer to him gently grabbing his neck, “That I had you bent over in your bedroom as you let me manhandle you the way I know you’d like.” You whispered lowly in his ear

Tony’s eyes widened as Y/n spoke in his ear in a way that made his whole body shake, and he began to breath more heavily, “Well what are you waiting for?… do it already,” he said almost begging as he looked up at you with helpless eyes, which you only made you grin wider in amusement watching as he was practically itching to just get a taste of what that would all be like, his mind immediately imagining all of the things you’d do to him…

And that’s how you ended up in Tony’s bedroom kissing him passionately still standing as your tongues glide against each other, his hands clawing at your back desperately trying to pull you close to him as you rubbed your cock against his hole through his boxers causing him to whine as he felt your hard on rub him in just the right way but he wanted more, he needed more… he’s never had someone inside him before and the thought made his body tremble with both nervousness and excitement

You step back and remove your shirt and Tony watches, the feeling of losing complete control for the first time is making this so much intense for him as he looks up at you “Tell me… how are you gonna use me?” He asks teasingly his voice dripping with desire as he looked your body over and you chuckled “I’d rather leave it a surprise.” you said not breaking eye contact with your piercing eyes which only made his heart beat faster in anticipation

"Now you made me curious...I can't wait to see what you're planning to do..." he whispers as he moves closer towards you, he still has his eyes locked on him, as he seems completely entranced by the man's powerful muscular body and presence. your eyes felt so...intimidating. Tony knows that whatever your planning, he is in for a good night “Come closer and I’ll show you,” is all you had to say before Tony took another step forward so your bodies were pressed up against each other again his heart practically pounding in his chest at thought of a younger man taking control of him

"Now we're very close, what are you waiting for?" He whispers as he stares into your eyes with lust, a smile on his face as he waits to see what your going to do to him “Don’t be impatient.” you say and cup Tony’s jaw and grabs his waist with a firm grip on both Tony's body seems to tremble a bit at your grip, their eyes are still locked, and Tony's breathing had gotten more heavy as he slowly nodded and your scent slowly started to fill his nose

Your hands begin to move around his body feeling him up as he practically melted at the whole thing his eyes half lidded still never left yours as you finally settled your hand right on his waist band which made his breath hitch in anticipation as you removed his clothes, and then removed yours…

The first was absolutely incredible for the both of you, Tony had never taken it from behind but he was glad his first time was with you, seeing his mouth hung open as you stretched out his hole and his noises only getter louder and needier, the older man who was known to make anyone crumble beneath him was coming undone in mere seconds just by you, and god, you felt blessed to see the sight, his back arched with sweat glistening his body, his red cock standing as it dripped a puddle of precum onto his stomach from the lack attention and his body shivering with anticipation, his head crawling with both fear and excitement at the new experience,

And of course once he got a small taste, he was greedy for more. You found yourself at Tony’s house almost every week fixing a new problem that would soon end up with the two of you doing it practically anywhere and everywhere in his house. You’ve fucked him on the kitchen counter, he’s sucked you off in the living room, and even had him against the wall, slowly his body didn’t react to anyone else anymore and he found himself calling you often and not even hiding behind an excuse like usual just plain on begging you to fuck him,

To say the man wasn’t tempting would be a lie, he’d whisper constantly in your ear all things he imagined you doing to him, or wear practically nothing every time you came around. To say he was desperate for attention was an understatement, he always craved it from everyone but now he only wanted it from you, he was never loud with anyone else but every time with you he felt like screaming in absolute ecstasy.

The sex was messy all around and pretty rough most of the time, not that Tony would have it any other way, he loved it when you messed him up, cumming inside of him or outside, he loves it most in his ass and on his face, he loves the messy and wet kisses you’d give him as you practically devoured him, the way you would move his body in a way you preferred like he was some type of toy to you. everything you did made his body shiver and he loved it,

He knew you were younger then him and that its considered strange having someone like that top and dominate an older man but the whole thing turned him on so much he couldn’t care less that a younger guy was doing all this to him, if anything the humiliation that someone like that could ruin him and make him into a begging mess only fueled him further, the degrading praise you’d give him, it made him go insane with pleasure.

You were the same too, you loved making fun of him in bed for letting someone younger then him who even works for him make him like this, you were his employee, you weren’t rich, or famous, and yet he let the same man he wouldn’t usually bat an eye at, use his body in every way you wanted, having someone he would consider low and beneath him do all this to him made him twice as needy and having such a powerful man under your control never ceased to feel anything but good, especially with a man like Tony Stark.

[rubra-wav]

[ Entry #9 ] Various Vox headcanons

A/N I've got a post coming up about what I think it'd be like to actually date him coming up, (alongside Snap part 2 ofc, I'm just taking my time w it to try keep things accurate) so here's some points which will lead into that next post + other misc stuff I've been thinking abt.

Cw: SFW above cut, NSFW below cut - 18+ MDNI, reference to manipulative behaviours

SFW

- While drunk, he's both very affectionate and cute but also gets really sad and clingy. If you stop paying attention to him for even a second while he's gonna start bawling like a giant baby. It's also the only time he's truly 100% honest with how he feels about you.

Basically; the mask falls right off, so he doesn't like to get drunk around people. He will deny all that's been said or done during this.

- He doesn't need to sleep but likes to - when he sleeps tho he doesn't really sleep in the traditional sense but instead goes into a preset 'sleep mode' for a specific set of time. He can also be rebooted remotely if you need him up before he's programmed to wake up again. (I discuss more abt this type stuff in entry #4)

- Follow up point: when he dreams while in sleep mode, his dreams play on his screen. He often dreams about becoming essentially king of hell and having people worship him like a god.

If you bring this up, he will be embarrassed as all fucking hell and will also deny it vehemently.

- He ends up getting water damage fairly often because he really loves swimming and aquatic environments ironically.

He's of course got ways of waterproofing himself properly, but usually he will do it badly or just not give a fuck about it and go swimming impulsively.

Will complain like a bitch after getting water damaged as well, holy shit. Blames everything but himself about it.

- Follow up: if you ever take this man to an aquarium on a date, he's going to be so fucking excited about everything he's seeing.

He will be trying to contain himself, but he may end up letting the mask of calmness slip at points and just start randomly talking a million miles an hour about whatever shark, fish, sea creature, etc. He's seeing. He loves sharks so much.

- Somewhat follow-up point: If you 1. don't tell him to shut up about shit when he starts getting excited and talking really fast and loudly AND 2. Actually listen?

He's gonna be so goddamn happy. Holy shit.

He's used to being told to shut up when he starts talking about ideas he has for a new VoxTek project, so if you give him feedback and your thoughts on it once he's done info dumping? He's gonna start internally screaming because he's so happy about it.

- Follow up follow-up: He doesn't take criticism well though. In fact, he's a baby. If you're in a relationship and you've gotten him out of his bs a bit with his ego being fragile as shit about everything, it'll be better but still pretty bad.

He needs reassurance that just because you disagree or think (y) would be a better alternative than what's his (x), that you still think it's a good idea, lmao.

- If you wear blue light glasses he can't hypnotise you, and he absolutely fucking hates it. In an argument or confronting him, you just put on bluelight glasses and cross your arms, and he's so annoyed about it.

You'd need to start wearing blue light glasses, because this asshole will be trying to hypnotise you into forgetting things if you see something of him that he deems 'undesirable' about himself for you to see.

- He's such a colossal attention whore that the second you are doing something thats not to do with him or talking to someone who isn't him, he's gonna be pissy asf about it.

Think glaring at you while pouting and loudly tapping his foot. He's such a little shit 💀

- He's so intensely touch starved it's not even funny. If you're doing anything his hands are gonna be on your hip, your back or your shoulders.

He desperately wants to be physically close to you but he also will never normally instigate cuddle sessions because he thinks it's embarrassing that he wants them so badly. If you instigate them, he will absolutely love it.

Just not in public, though. If you try to be super affectionate or maybe even affectionate with him at all publicly, he'll be pushing you away telling you to wait until later.

And will get mad if you try get a bit defensive about it with him.

NSFW

- He has barely any self-control and ends up getting unintentionally excited really easily - even in situations where he really shouldn't be. If you as his partner are cuddling him, sitting in his lap, touching his neck, or god forbid the ports, he's gonna get hard so quickly it's not even funny.

Him being touch starved is really a double-edged sword because he wants to be near you, but also he gets unintentionally way too physically excited about it and ends up embarrassed asf most of the time.

- Kinda follow up point: I feel as if he's extremely repressed sexually in general. He works extremely long hours to maintain his control over everything single day, and considering his tendency to start zapping things when he gets closer to finishing / overwhelmed, he'd likely not be taking any chances at all with that.

So when he gets physically near his partner alone (and also not even alone), his body just kinda goes 'time to make up for lost time'. 💀

- Most sensitive erogenous zones on him (outside of his dick obviously) are his neck and ports. I'm not sure if him having ports for nipples is canon or not, but if it still is, those are the more sensitive ones. The ones on the back of his head are still an absolute killer, though.

If you kiss his neck even softly, he'll be tensing up, and if you're kissing him or cuddling him and gently brush up against the ports on the back of his head, or your chest brushes against his and brings him nipple stimulation - he's gonna be getting a boner as quick as it gets.

- He doesn't really care too much about his partner's height, but I get the vibe that he'd have a size difference thing and would love a partner who's smaller than him (but not tiny still)

It would trip his ego so much to be able to physically look down on people in general, but with a partner? He'd be going mildly insane about it but in a different way.

Wear his clothes, and they're massive on you? He's gonna be turned on as absolute hell by that. Especially if it's one of his button ups and its neckline is plunging and giving him an eyeful of your chest.

He can easily pick you up and pull you against him in whatever way? Goes absolutely nuts about it.

I love it when I try to go,'this will only be short', then my brainrot takes hold, and my ideas just keep flowing. 💀

Masterlist

[janaispunk]

little lion

pairing: Oberyn Martell x OFC

word count: 394

tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, i think that’s it?

a/n: @catchallfangirl gave me the prompt “finally, something we can agree on”, oberyn and thirty minutes to write. this is the result :)

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here!

dividers by @plum98 <3

She sips her wine, tuning out her father who is rambling on about uniting houses and how much good it would do for the people of the realm.

It’s not about the realm, let alone the people living in it. She knows it, he knows it, everybody in the room knows it. It’s about power. It’s about the iron throne and ensuring who will sit on it.

The man two tables over from hers catches her wandering gaze and raises his own cup in a quiet toast. As he drinks, he winks at her. She hates the blush creeping up on her cheeks, hates the fact that he can see it, even in the candlelight, if the smug look on his handsome features is any indication. She hates his dark eyes, the glinting of the golden chain around his neck, the way it accentuates the panes of his strong chest, his golden skin, visible through his robe.

She needs some air.

Quietly excusing herself, she rises to her feet and leaves the hall, climbing stairs until she reaches one of the higher floors where the thick stony walls open into big windows, overlooking the city below them.

Lights are twinkling in the darkness of the night, until the city gives way to the ocean, moonlight reflecting off of its surface.

She feels his presence before she hears his quiet steps behind her.

“Prince Oberyn.”

“Hello, little lion.”

Goosebumps form on her neck. He’s closer than she anticipated, she can almost feel his breath on her skin. His voice is low, gravely behind her, his accent wrapping around the pet name. The stupid pet name that he won’t stop using and that sounds way too good from his lips.

“I told you not to call me that.”

He tuts gently, twirling one of the long blonde curls of her hair between his fingers, before giving it a light tug.

“Why did you leave?”

“I was bored.”

It might not be the whole truth, but it’s not necessarily a lie, either. He chuckles, still playing with her hair.

“Finally, something we can agree on.”

She turns her head towards him, eyes searching his. He’s much too close. He gently trails one finger over her cheekbone.

“We shall leave the talking to your father and my brother. Let me walk you to your chambers, little lion.”

thank you for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask. interaction is what keeps writers going <3

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

warm hands

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ amy's birthday ficlet weekend ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ tony stark x reader prompt: snow summary: the two of you share an intimate interlude out in the snow pick a prompt and a character from the list (tags beneath the cut)

“You know, there’s that big, cosy bed back at the lodge…” Tony said teasingly, laughing as you pushed him back against the tree behind him, out of sight of the wide windows of the building further up the hill. Only your footprints in the snow gave indication to those who might look out them as to where you had gone. His hands came to your waist automatically, his touch muffled by the layers you wore. His amused smirk widened as you pressed yourself against him, your fingers curled in the front of his coat. “…it’s got fluffy pillows… and all those toys…”

“We could head back…” you replied, speaking between kisses. You could feel his smile every time your lips met his. “…and we could spend…” you tugged off your gloves and unfastened his coat. “…twenty minutes escaping all our guests…” you slipped your hands into his coat, bunching one in his shirt. “…and spend the whole time…” Your other hand teased along his exposed skin, hooking fingers in the waistband of his jeans. “…hoping they don’t interrupt…”

“Hmm…” Tony hummed thoughtfully against your lips as you kissed him again, his hands tightening on your waist as you reached down to smooth your palm tauntingly over the front of his pants. He let his head fall back against the tree as you broke apart. There were snowflakes caught in the hair peeking out from under his knit cap, caught in his eyelashes. “Right. Good point. Have your way with me.”

You snickered, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his fly. Gaze still trained on his, you pushed your hand – still warm from your gloves – into his jeans. Tony groaned, his eyes rolling back slightly, his lips parting slightly. Your own smirk widened, and you wrapped your fingers around the hardening base of him. Tony’s hands slid down over your hips before claiming your ass, tightening reflexively as you squeezed.

“God…” Tony breathed as you stroked him steadily, the sound clouding in the air between you. He ran a hand up your back, clutching at a fistful of your hair and pulling you into another heady kiss. You could feel the knit cap gently pulled from your hair, Tony’s teeth catching on your lip as you quickened your pace. His lips were impossibly warm in the frigid air, and you slipped your free hand up under his shirt to tease over his bare stomach. His mouth moved to brush over your cheek and the corner of your jaw, his next words in your ear. You shivered at the cadence of it. “…Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Pretty sure you’re about to,” you replied, moving to a kneel in front of him despite the snow. Tony cursed aloud as you took him into the warmth of your mouth, his hand immediately moving to your hair. His fingers curled in the locks again, just tight enough to thrill you, and he groaned as you hummed around him in approval.

“Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweetheart…” he moaned, chuckling brokenly as you pressed his hips back against the tree with your hand. You gagged around him as you took him in as far as possible, letting Tony hold you there for a moment before pulling back again, tears in your eyes. You broke away to breath, spreading saliva over his cock with your hand. “How can such a paragon of good be so… fucking good with her mouth?”

“Can’t be that good if you’re still throwing out words like ‘paragon’,” you joked, even as your cheeks were heated by the compliment as you smiled up at him.

“You inspire it out of me,” Tony stroked his thumb over your cheek, bold affection in his eyes. They rolled back again as you took him back into your mouth, and you ignored the way your legs burned with the cold as the snow soaked your jeans as he moaned again. Your hands curled in his jeans as he thrust into your mouth, each push of his hips in time with your head. “Fuck, sweetheart…”

Tony’s hand tightened almost painfully in your hair as he came in your mouth, and he groaned as he felt you swallow. “Christ, I love you…”

“Look at you,” you teased gently, tucking him back into his jeans and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood. “All sentimental.”

“Like I said,” he replied, dropping your hat back onto your head. He kissed the tip of your nose as you re-buckled his belt. “You inspire me.”

“Sweet-talker,” you said as he kissed you again, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Your lips barely brushed against his smile as you spoke. “Now I believe there was some mention of toys?”

Tony grinned, taking your hand in his. “How about a nice, hot bath, first?”

“You read my mind.”

tags: @ccbsrms @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @startrekkingaroundasgard @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved

[sherlockscumslut]

"Tricks" ft Wriothesley x fem!reader

18+ only. No plot at all, Dom!Wriothesley, domestic vibes, established relationship, Wriothesley being a little slob and forgetful for the "plot", handcuffs (ofc), oral.f!receiving, vag.fingering, slight bit of orgasm control, choking, doggy, creampie, rough seggs, spanking (once), implied manhandling.

Word count: 835

A/n: I have it bad for this man. Shout out to Hoyo for making another hot character. Idc if he comes home, I'm coming on his face.

Please pretend you didn't read the last sentence.

My AO3

Follow my backup blog just in case @itsdebby

Reblogs and likes are much appreciated 🙏🏻

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

You woke up earlier than usual. The sun hasn't fully risen yet and there you are, making breakfast for your boyfriend. Wriothesley was still asleep.

[…]

After a while, his alarm went off and a loud yawn echoed across the room.

"Good morning, babe," Wriothesley said as he entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, love. Enjoy your breakfast!" You gave him a kiss on the cheek when he sat on the table.

He rubbed his eyes. "All this? Did you make all this just for me?"

You smiled. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! Plus...You need energy."

He nodded as he sipped on his coffee.

"Could you please give my shirt a quick ironing? I forgot to do it yesterday."

You nodded and made your way to the bedroom. Your side was neat unlike Wriothesley who've just woke up. He surely moves a lot in his sleep, making a mess out of the sheets, sometimes even throwing his pillows off the bed.

As you started to make up his side, you found his handcuffs under his pillow. "What an odd man." you thought to yourself and smiled.

At this very moment, a rather unholy thought crossed your mind. You covered your mouth in embarrassment but still decided to...test the waters.

[After a while]

"Babe, is my shirt ready yet? I gotta get ready-" Wriothesley said as he entered the bedroom.

"Here!" You unplugged the iron and gave the shirt to him.

"Thank you, babe. Um...have you seen my handcuffs? I can't remember where I left them last night." Wriothelsey's eyes scanned the room.

"I'm afraid that they have fallen under the mattress. Let me check..."

You pretended to search for the handcuffs on all fours, arching your back as much as you could. Wriothesley stood near, trying to look unbothered by your bare pussy slightly covered by your see-through nightgown.

"I'm afraid they're not here." You lied.

"Now let me have a look..." Wriothesley said and jumped in the bed near you.

"Oh, I see...they haven't fallen under the mattress...they are around your wrists."

You smirked. "They were under your pillow. Who in their right mind puts handcuffs under their pillow?"

"And who on their right mind arches their back like that in a see-through nightgown?" He said, slapping your ass.

"Are you just gonna stand there or will you help me take these off?" You teased.

"Hmm...and what if they stayed on?"

Wriothesley pushed your nightgown up your waist, burying his face in your pussy. His nose gently touches your entrance while his tongue slowly slides up and down on your clit.

"You like that hm?" He whispered.

"Hmm...y-yes..."

Wriothesley used his thumbs to spread your pussy wide. You flinched when the tip of his tongue met your entrance.

"Won't you look at that...I guess you can take two fingers already."

"I...I can take YOU already..."

"No, not so fast. Since you plotted this...I'm taking my time. Fair, isn't it?"

"What are you-" You moaned as he pushed one finger inside.

Wriothesley then used the tip of his tongue to tease your clit while slowly fingering your pussy, keeping you on the edge of orgasm by switching from one finger to more.

"Stop! Just...just...ahh~"

"Just what? Are you giving up already?"

"Just..give it...to me!" You almost clenched your thighs around his hand but Wriothesley pulled back quickly.

"You're not cumming just yet. Not until I fuck what is mine."

Wriothesley gripped your waist and slowly slid inside you. The wetness and warmth of your core sent shivers down his spine. Incoherent words and a deep moan that almost sounded like a howl left his mouth.

With his hands squeezing your waist, he moved your lower body back and forth on his dick like you were some sort of sex toy. He didn't slow down.

You have convinced yourself that Wriothesley will probably never understand how big he is compared to you. He always acts a little rougher in bed. Not that this is a problem but when he fucks you, he does it like he means it…which he does.

With deep and fast thrusts, Wriothesley is the master of manhandling. The way he tosses you around, switching positions to make sure he goes as deep as he can, making sure you feel him in your guts. Being on all fours gives him easier access to abuse your tight little hole.

"Now...do it now, babe. Want you to cream on my cock while I choke you."

"Babe..." You managed to breathe out when strong hands locked around your neck, choking you harder as Wriothesley came inside you.

"You played this trick well, babe," Wriothesley said a few seconds after catching his breath. You were unable to talk and your legs have given up.

"Oh no, I'm late...We should make use of my handcuffs more often...I love you."

Wriothesley kissed your neck, still red of his hand prints, and left.

《THE END》

! DO NOT TRANSLATE OR REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION !

[whimsicalworldofme]

Saving Grace: Chapter Eighteen

Grace and Tony are reunited and it’s all the cute dad Tony fluff you could hope for.

“Dad!”

Grace squealed, positively giddy as she launched herself at Tony when Steve let him into the apartment a few weeks later. He laughed and caught her, though the momentum did cause him to stumble back a few steps. He growled happily as he squeezed her tightly, lifting her off her feet.

“Hey Tony,” Steve said from behind her.

“Cap,” Tony nodded in greeting. “Thanks for taking care of my kid.”

“Ok, well that makes it sound like I’m five and you hired him to babysit me. Hey wait a minute,” Grace pulled back from his grasp, realizing that she couldn’t feel his arc reactor digging into her like she always did when she hugged him. Looking down, she noted that the regular blue tinged glow wasn’t shining through his shirt either. She laid a palm on his chest and felt nothing metal, nothing jutting out, just her father’s chest, rising and falling with each breath.

“You had the operation,” she murmured, stunned. He’d talked about it occasionally, getting the shrapnel removed from his chest once and for all, so that he wouldn’t have to rely on the arc reactor to keep him alive. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, I figured it was time,” Tony shrugged. “One less thing for my girls to worry about.”

A grunt knocked loose from his lips when Grace threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight again.

“Hey, how about you take some of your stuff down to the car,” he suggested and Grace stepped back, nodding and wiping her eyes. He held the key out for her. “It’s the silver Lexus SUV. I need a minute to talk to the old man.”

Grace wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that, but she chose to go along with it.

Maybe he just needs to talk about Avengers stuff or something.

“Ok,” she took the key and watched as her dad looked around the little apartment with an appraising gaze. Grace gathered up the suitcase that Steve had gifted her and a handful of shopping bags that she’d accumulated over the last two weeks. “Dad,” she paused before stepping out the door, “play nice.”

“How come he doesn’t get that order?” Tony protested childishly, gesturing at Steve with one hand. Grace raised a brow and made a “you know why” face which forced him to sigh in exasperation and roll his eyes. “Go, we’ll be fine.” He waved her off.

Shutting the door behind her, Grace made her way downstairs and outside where she easily found the car her dad had brought. She noticed that there were no branded rental stickers on the back, no branded frame on the license plate, there wasn’t even a permanent license plate, but a temporary paper one indicating it had been newly purchased.

Of course, he needs a car, all the ones in California got blown up. Grace thought about her Jeep, which Nat had assured her S.H.I.E.L.D. would have delivered wherever she needed. With any luck, it was being hauled to Stark Tower at that moment, per her instructions. I can’t wait to have my baby back.

She hefted her stuff into the back of the SUV, shut the door and went back in, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

“I don’t need a lecture from you, Rogers,” she heard her father’s voice carry into the hallway despite the front door being shut, which made her chest tighten.

“I’m not lecturing, Tony, but someone has to say something and it’s not going to be Grace, she loves you too much and is too gentle to say it, but you almost got her killed and you broke her heart. You have to stop being so reckless!”

“Look you might have been born with the dinosaurs, but between the two of us, I have more actual lived experience,” Tony fired back and Grace could imagine the exact way his jaw clenched when he was defensive. “I don’t need you telling me how to be a dad to my daughter. You don’t even have kids.”

“No, no I don’t,” Steve answered and Grace could picture him folding his arms over his chest, his head hanging as he gathered his next thought. “But I was the one here with Grace while she sobbed herself to sleep thinking that you were dead. I was the one here on Christmas, trying to keep her from falling into debilitating depression because she didn’t know if she would ever see you again. And I’m the one who pieced things back together, made sure she had clothes and a computer for work, because you got your house blown up.”

“Are you sleeping with my daughter, Rogers?”

“Dad!” Grace flung the door open, having heard enough.

The two men froze, both the right amount of ashamed at having been caught by her, fighting about her. She shut the door and folded her arms over her chest, staring her father down.

“I will point out that he has not answered my question,” Tony cocked his head to one side as he pointed a finger over his shoulder at Steve.

“The answer is no,” Steve lied convincingly well.

“Is that true?” Tony asked looking her in the eye, his expression pleading with her to tell him what he wanted to hear, that she was not sleeping with Steve.

“Dad, I’m not sleeping with Steve,” she reassured him. “He has a point though,” she felt bad saying it, but she needed to say it all the same. “I’ve been a wreck because you acted without thinking. I’ve lost almost all of my worldly possessions, I could’ve lost you and Pepper, I could’ve died too. I know you’re sorry and I know you feel bad, but you have to actually change your behavior. You have to see a doctor about your PTSD.”

“Can we,” he leaned in and whispered to her, “can we do this somewhere not in front of Mr. Everything I do is Perfect?”

“That’s all I had to say about it,” Grace sighed. Her whole body felt weak, like she’d been carrying a heavy burden the last few weeks and it had suddenly lifted.

“I’m sorry, Gracie,” Tony reached out and pulled her into a hug, kissing her on the top of her head. “I really am. I promise I’ll do better. So, you don’t have to worry about picking up the slack anymore, Capsicle,” he said to Steve over her shoulder. “All right,” he patted Grace gently on the back and stepped back. “Let’s give the old man some peace and quiet. I told Pepper we’d be home in time for dinner, which I’m sure will contain kale or something, so we should absolutely get the biggest milkshakes we can find on the way.”

“Ok,” Grace laughed.  “You go get the car warmed up, I’m going to get the last of my stuff and say goodbye.”

She nudged her dad gently to the door, but he stepped past her and went over to Steve, offering him a handshake. Grace watched the surprise flicker over her boyfriend’s expression but he nodded, graciously and shook Tony’s hand.

“Sorry,” Tony mumbled. “You stepped up, Rogers, and I’m glad you did. Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Steve insisted. “I’ll always be here for Grace.”

Tony nodded, let go, then headed out the door, shutting it behind him. They waited a minute to hear his footsteps descend the stairs. Grace checked the peephole in the door to make sure he’d really gone down. When she confirmed he wasn’t in the hallway, she turned back to Steve, stepping up to him and sliding a hand along his face, cupping his cheek and drawing him down to kiss her.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers. With his eyes shut, his long eyelashes practically brushed his cheekbones. “I meant what I said about living together again, but all the goodbyes are hard.”

“You said yourself you’ll only be four hours away,” Steve reassured her, opening his eyes and pressing another kiss to her lips. “You have a key. You have a designated drawer. You can come stay any time, for as long as you like. And who knows, maybe soon that whole Avengers HQ thing will happen and then you’ll only have to travel a few flights of stairs.”

“We’ll have to tell him then,” she grimaced slightly. They both knew they had to come clean eventually, but she knew her dad wouldn’t take it well when they did.

“Eh,” Steve tipped his head to one side and grinned. “He’ll live. But I don’t think you want him to find out today, so you better go before he gets suspicious.” He kissed her one more time, sweet and lingering, his fingers combing into her hair as he held her close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Grace felt breathless and he kissed her one more time.

“Text me when you get home,” he relinquished his hold on her and grabbed the last of her shopping bags, handing them over to her.

“Will do,” she agreed.

Steve couldn’t resist getting in one more kiss before she stepped out the door and headed downstairs and out to the car where Tony was waiting, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of Iron Man on the radio. Grace couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Really?” She asked as she opened the door for the backseat, setting down the last of her bags before getting into the passenger seat. Her dad’s only response was to smirk and turn the volume up.

“Ok,” Grace reached out and turned the volume back down to a reasonable level. “You need to focus on the road and I’d like to be able to use my ears for many years to come.”

“I think prolonged exposure to Rogers is aging you prematurely,” he quipped but left the volume where she’d put it. Checking his mirrors, he pulled out onto the street. “Hanging out with a ninety-year-old will do that to a person.”

“Dad,” she groaned slightly.

“I dunno, I just don’t get it, Grace,” he shifted slightly. “You’re from entirely different generations. What do you even talk about? I could never hold a conversation with my dad, though he mostly only ever wanted to talk about Rogers.”

“We talk about the things all friends talk about,” she shrugged. “Work, stuff we’re watching, reading, or listening to, hobbies, food. I mean, what do you and Rhodey talk about?”

“Well, that’s different,” Tony shrugged slightly as they came to a stoplight. “Rhodey’s my best friend. We could talk about paint drying and it would still be a great conversation.”

“Steve’s my best friend,” Grace realized she hadn’t said it out loud to anyone before that moment, but it was true.

“Well, your grandfather would be thrilled,” Tony said after a long pause.

“And what about you, Dad?” She knew a lot of his jabs at Steve were just jokes, but some weren’t. It got hard sometimes to tell what was what.

“Hm?” He glanced over at her, his eyes inscrutable behind his sunglasses. “Gracie, if you’re happy, if Rogers is a good and genuine friend, then I’m happy. I do worry that you don’t seem to have any female friends your own age, but you’re the shrink not me, so you can psychoanalyze that yourself.”

They got onto the on-ramp for the highway heading towards New York and she thought about his observation. She didn’t have a lot of close friends in general, just casual work friends that she often went out to lunch or for drinks with. Her closest friends were Steve and Pepper, though she was getting to know Bruce pretty well too, as they often sent emails back and forth about their respective work projects. But having gone to college so incredibly young, she had a hard time making friends. She had always been too young for her intellectual peers and too smart for the age-appropriate ones. It left her in a weird limbo her whole life, not really knowing where and how to fit in.

“I have Pepper,” Grace offered with a shrug.

“Ok, first of all,” Tony’s face scrunched up like he’d eaten something unpleasant. “She is not your age,” he shuddered. “She is closer to my age than yours, so there’s that. Second, she is basically your step-mother. You’re not supposed to be best friends with your step-mother.”

“Consider it a testament to your excellent taste then,” she snickered, trying to calm him, “that you fell in love with a woman your daughter can be best friends with.”

“I did luck out,” he admitted.

“So do you think you’ll make things official with her soon?” Grace asked innocently and suddenly the car was veering sharply out of their lane. “Dad!”

He jerked the wheel back and shook his head, clearly snapping out of the panic she’d apparently caused.

“Geez kid,” he protested. “You can’t do that to me. Not while I’m driving.

“Ok, well just so you know, whenever you are ready, I’m one hundred percent behind you,” she couldn’t stop laughing at her father’s wide-eyed panic, though she tried to keep it muted, tamped down. “I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid in a wedding.”

Chapter 17

Masterlist

Chapter 19

[vendetta-ari]

hiii could I request a vox x f! reader with fluff, mutual pining, and smut? tysm <333

OFC YOU CAN I LOVE MUTUAL PINING 😭

I didn't have a lot to go off of so I kept it simple, I hope you enjoy my dear!!

WARNINGS: SMUT, NSFW (Minors please go away) PRAISE, [DUB-CON???] FINGERING, MAYBE MORE IDK MAN?? word count = 1,000

A blush spread across your face as vox put his shoulder around you, he always did shit like this but usually he was just joking or teasing you around, but something about this time felt different. maybe it was all the alcohol you two had drank but something about this small touch just made you crave Vox. you always were into vox ever since you laid your pretty little eyes on him.

Vox chuckled while sipping some whiskey, while turning to talk to Valentino. Of course he was talking to Val, they had some on and off relationship- and while you didn't really ever have that big of an issue with Valentino, you were jealous. So, so Incredibly jealous. Sometimes you'd hear them having sex and your anger built up against Val. God even hearing his voice just pissed you off. your nails dug into the couch you were sitting on out of anger as your eye twitched. Maybe it was the alcohol talking but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? 

Vox seemed to take notice of your growing anger and spoke up about it “Dollface,  you okay? the fuck is up with you?” He spoke in a concerned tone, despite his words.

You shrugged him off and just mumbled “I'm fine. get off my case! fucking christ Vox why dont you go fuck Val while your at it?”  you spoke in such a sharp and stern tone, different from how you usually presented yourself. You stormed out of the club and went into the apartment you stayed at. Vox and you were the only ones who had keys to said apartment, I guess he was just the only person you really trusted. ironic isn't it? The man whose whole motto is to “trust us” while deceiving people is the only guy you trust in hell. It was fucking pathetic and you knew that very well, but some part of you just- needed him. Like some drug he was impossible to live without.

as you delved into your sorrows of loving such a pathetic man, a knock was at the door which snapped you back to reality. It was quickly followed by the jingling of keys and vox shouting from the outside “Doll, I'm coming in to check on you, it's not like you to do that. I know something's up” Vox opened up the door as his view drifted to you, sitting on the floor looking all sad and pathetic, the strap of your dress falling down to the side as you looked up at him with a pissed off face. 

“So, whatd I do this time?” You almost choked on air, he really didn't know what he did? god this dumb fucking man, If you didn't love him your sure youd kill him instead. “What'd you do? you fucking treat me like some side peice! you act like you're into me and love me but then you go and fuck that stupid moth man!”

Vox smiled for a bit, an evil smirk from what you could tell. He picked you up off your feet and dragged you to your bed. “So you're jealous huh baby? well fuck if you wanted me to fuck you this bad.. you could've just asked~”

You felt your heart race, you felt your heart race so fast you couldve sworn it fucking stopped, your face turned red as you muttered out a response “p-please do..”

and that was all Vox needed, that was all Vox ever needed to hear. That you want him. and you need him. He always longed for you- he just tried to push away his feelings.  But now? Now he can show you how he really felt.

He crawled in between your legs, while grabbing your chin and kissing you. the kiss felt needy, and desperate,  like this had been needing to happen since the start. he unzipped your dress as he ran his hands up and down your figure, mumbling a small “Fuck..” He ripped off your dress in seconds, as he pulled down your panties his long blue claws slid into you pumping in and out of you at an agonizing pace.

“mmph- please vox go faster i-i cant take it anymore-”

You immediately regretted saying that because vox's fingers didn't only speed up, but he added another overstimulating you. “That good enough for ya doll? hah?~”

He took his fingers out of you, making you buck your hips towards him, trying to chase the pleasure you were once given.

Vox chuckled at the sight beneath him. “Relax my dear, I'll make sure I'm the only one that is gonna be able to make you feel this good m'kay?” he unbuckled his belt, the metal hitting the floor before you heard the zip of his pants. “Be a good girl and take this cock for me.” He shoved his dick into you, giving you a few seconds to adjust before moving at a fast pace, breathing heavily.

Trying to get a accustomed to the brutal pace he set you bit your lip, you bit your lip so hard you could've fucking sworn you were bleeding. both of you were so indulgent in the pleasure neither of you could barely speak, all that came out of your mouths were moans and sighs of relief, like this had been fate. After what felt like yours of that fast pace and your tongues intertwining, you both came together. you shivered at the pleasure and Vox fell on top of you shaking and trying to catch his breath without lagging or glitching out. he wrapped his arms around you with a whine, repeatedly saying “Thank you, thank you so much my dear..i-i love you”

“Mmph.. I love you too Vox..”

falling asleep in eachothers arms, before waking up the next morning with a hangover, so vox called off work and you two stayed in bed, your legs wrapped around him and mumbling lots of “I love you's”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED LOL, I BLACKED OUT DURING THIS ISTFG IDK WHAT HAPPENED (sorry for the late post)

-xoxo Ari

[peterparkersnose]

Throne

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, sugar daddy themes (not au), undefined relationship, dominance, teasing, aegon can be such a fucking asshole, guilt tripping, neck play, angst, public pleasuring, punishments (yay), dirty talk, fem!receiving oral, fingering, begging, delayed orgasm, blood play, degradation, aftercare, aegon's ownership of reader

a/n ok ok ok i actually really enjoyed writing this smut. so much. i just love me a good dominant man that does what he wants (within reason ofc we love consent here)

summary Y/N is taught a lesson by Aegon

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 1 second

“What is it?” she asked, bursting into the throne room angrily. No bows, no titles, just anger.

Aegon smirked at her devilishly, watching her approach him with such an angsty tone.

“I cannot just simply ask for you to pay me a visit?” he asks, unfolding his legs from the childish position on the Iron Throne and straightening his back.

“I don’t like being torn from my studies just because you wish to see me.”

He laughs out loud, almost mockingly. “A ‘Hello your Majesty’ and perhaps a bow would have done.” Aegon scoffed, staring her body up and down like she was a new shiny toy. He noticed the dress she was wearing; the one he had commissioned for her after she was such a good girl after their previous endeavors together. She earned it- she deserved it. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Aegon said, rubbing his legs until he got to his knees and finally stood.

“Have you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and walking closer to him.

“It’s rude to deny your king of what he wishes. I called upon you nearly an hour ago.” Aegon declares as he skips down the stairs, meeting her halfway and softly grabbing her wrists. He was just as an impatient man as he was a gruesome King. He holds her at arm’s length, looking her up and down once again with hungry eyes. 

“And you are what I currently desire.”

She catches her breath as she stares at him. “You called me out of my studies… for this?”

She stares at him, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The room feels suffocating as if the tension between them has thickened the air. Her initial confusion morphs into a wave of disappointment and frustration, evident in the deep furrow that forms between her brows.

Her disgust was off-putting to him. With a menacing glare, so different from the adoring one he had for her moments ago, he pulled her close and brought his fingers to her chin, and forced her to stare into his gaze. His face contorts, momentarily betraying a flicker of vulnerability, as her disgust pierces through his facial facade. In response, his expression transforms, and his previously adoring gaze is replaced by a cold stare that bores into her soul. “I can do what I want, when I want. I am the King. Do you understand?” 

The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of his position of authority. 

She does not reply, her lips tightly sealed as she gazes into his tired eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. In fact, it was clear that he hasn't slept in days. The exhaustion seeps into every fiber of his appearance, affecting his posture, his movements, and even the cadence of his voice. His shoulders sag, burdened by the weight of ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and perhaps watching over her every movement. She wasn’t obedient enough yet for his liking, evident by her previous actions of the day. 

“Do you understand?” he asks once again, this time with more anger backing up his tone. Aegon was not one to be denied, especially when he felt such ownership over her. His grasp on her wrists became tighter as his breath now drew on her ears. “You act like you don’t deserve this dress. I had it made for you. Act like you deserve it, love.” 

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, closing her eyes as his words flew through her. She let out a shuttered breath. 

Aegon smirked at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a kind smirk to most, but she could recognize the evil behind his mask. “Not good enough,” he groaned. 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t wear it anymore. You are misbehaving, hm? What happens to disobedient girls? Do they get to keep all the presents they were so gracefully gifted?”

Aegon’s hand moved to her neck, softly squeezing it. It didn’t harm her, if anything it would be seen as comforting. But she knew, she knew how Aegon worked. His hand traveled from her neck to her collarbone, touching the stone necklace that rested on her chest. “So pretty,” he whispered, fingering the stone. As he got bored of that, his hand traveled to her neckline. Right between her cleavage, he dipped his fingers under her hem, feeling the top of her breasts. 

She looked beyond him and to the Iron Throne, feeling the oh, so familiar guilt mixed with pleasure wave crash upon her once again. 

Aegon’s fingers moved from her chest, following the hem of the neckline of the dress up to her sleeve, and pushed her left sleeve down exposing her shoulder. “What shall your punishment be?” he asks her, bending over slightly to kiss her shoulder ever so softly. His hand moved to her cheek now, cupping it and forcing her to look at him once again. 

“Punishment? What for?” she asked. He couldn’t tell if she was toying with him or being serious. He let out a cruel little laugh. “For being late to my summoning and disobedient to your King.” he scoffed, stating his words like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You treat me as such even though I treat you so kindly. Do you know how many coins this dress cost the crown?” he asked, pulling down her other sleeve. She shook her head no.

“More than I pay any one of these useless studs in a year.” he said, looking around at the six guards that stood obediently in the throne room. They all looked the same and sat perfectly still, their only intention to protect this arrogant man and the crown. 

She quite adored the dress. Aegon really did well with this gift, it was spot on to what she wished for. Perhaps above her wildest dreams of what it could be, it most definitely exceeded her expectations from their… their strange agreement. The dress, in every aspect, seemed tailor-made for her. It was neck tied with a few buttons around the back of her neck and with a short sleeve. It was colored a deep gold and bronze. The colors seemed to breathe life into the fabric, casting a radiant glow that shimmered with every movement she made. The neckline plunged, showing off her assets quite nicely. It had beautiful traditional embroidery, one fit for a noble of quite high standings. The waistline, designed with precision and purpose, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her frame with a subtle grace. A bust of gold adorned the ensemble, meeting at her navel and drawing attention to her slender waist, creating a beautiful pattern that enhanced her natural beauty. It was floor length and seemed fit for a Queen. 

“You will behave. Even if I have to teach you a lesson. It’ll do you better than any of those stupid Septas teaching you how to be a Lady.” he whispered to her, now grabbing her hand at her side and entwining his fingers with hers. It was a surprisingly kind gesture, one she didn’t expect from him. 

He led her to stand in front of the Iron Throne, her back to the chair and he stood a step below her. It felt almost wrong, as he was the King and she was just a noble Lady. She looked at him with a confused face, unsure of what he was doing. Aegon had a terrible grin displayed as he looked her up and down once more. Aegon placed his hand on her stomach, pushing her back into the throne. 

“Aegon what are you…”

He shushed her quickly and harshly. 

“You will obey. Do you hear me?”

She nodded. He got down on his knees, reaching out one of his hands for her to place her hand in. He graciously accepted her hand, kissing it slowly, giving each finger its deserved attention. She was flushed, embarrassed at what the guards must have been viewing at that moment.

Little did she know, that was the easiest part of this she would have to endure in terms of embarrassment. 

“Did I ever tell you how pretty your hands are? So gorgeous.” he kissed her palm. “Especially when they are around my cock. That’s my favorite, seeing your pretty little fingers work for me.” 

Her eyes widened as he said these words. A red tint came to her cheeks, but that only made Aegon want more of a reaction from her. 

Aegon dropped her hand, now placing his hands on both of her thighs over her dress. “I want no complaints from your lips. Do you understand?”

She was hesitant to answer him again. Furrowing his brows, he was angered by her rebellion. He grabbed down on her thighs harder now, his thumb trailing dangerously close to her core. His eyes met hers once again, waiting for a response. 

“Mhm,” she whined out, feeling the pressure building between her thighs. 

“Good girl.”

With a sudden movement, his hands left her thighs over her dress. Aegon lifted her legs to his shoulders, each leg resting on each shoulder. He moved his hands to cradle her lower back, pulling her closer to his face. She squirmed, as she did not expect this move from him at all. She didn’t have time to complain. His hands delved under her skirt, pulling at her undergarments and swiping a finger over her bundle of nerves. 

He laughed at her reaction, watching her squirm under his touch was one of his favorite sights. 

“Hold your pretty present for me.” he ordered, speaking sweetly with a hint of cruelty as he bunched up her skirt, holding the expensive fabric in his hands for her to grasp. She listened. 

“B-but Aegon, the guards.” she protested. He looked at her and rolled his eyes, smirking and staring at her with a look that she was the most idiotic woman in the world. “Fuck the guards, my love. Perhaps they’ll enjoy the pretty little noises you’ll make for me. Stroke their own cocks to the memory of your wails after their shift.”

She gasped at his words in shock. Her gasp was followed up with another one, but a pleasurable one. Without warning, Aegon delved his face between her thighs and began lapping eagerly at her cunt. There was no warning, just an over sense of his tongue on her. 

Y/N let out a guttural groan, her hands moving straight to his hair. She pulled ever so lightly, her head resting against the back of the throne as he worked his magic. “But if anyone… if anyone were to see.” she says between breaths, now looking down at his blonde head between her thighs. He stopped momentarily and looked up at her. He licked his lips, as her juices dripped off his chin. 

“Then they will see that I am very obviously busy.”

He returned to his place between her thighs, but this time brought a finger to her and inserted it. 

“Aegon!” she cried out as he did, pushing herself forward and more eagerly into his grasp. She could feel his chuckle on her cunt as he stopped momentarily. He kissed her and continued his multitasking of eating her out and fingering her. His nose sat perfectly within her. It was almost as if his nose was made just for her cunt. 

He works for a while more, he could feel her pulsating around his fingers. This only drove him more mad, as if he was drunk off of her. He inserted another finger, revealing another groan from her that went straight to his cock. He pumped in her faster by the second, he was sure she was going to cum any minute now. “Are you close?”

She nodded eagerly. A smile came to his lips. “Do you want to cum?” he asked, his wrist beginning to hurt with the angle he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. Oh, how he would suffer for her pleasure. 

“Use your words,” he says sharply. “Tell me how you want it.”

“I-I…” she could barely form a sentence. “Tell me,” he ordered her. “Beg for it,”

Her hips rolled against his touch as she cried out for him. “P-please, let me cum.” she whispered out, with all her might she had left. 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, dear.” Aegon teased her cruelly, her words weren’t enough to satisfy his needs. “Say my name like I’m yours, like you fucking mean it.”

“Aegon,” she breathed out, trying her best to keep her eyes open. “Louder,” he demanded. “Say it like you mean it.”

“Aegon!” she blurted out, loud enough for anyone down the hallway to hear her voice. “Just like that, yes.” he praised her, brushing his free hand up her thigh. His touch sent chills down her spine, a foreshadowing of what was about to come. He could feel her heat rising, her climax was definitely near. He kissed her thigh, looking up at her pretty face as she moaned, her head bowed back and her left hand in his locks. This is exactly how he wanted her; this was what she deserved. A fitting punishment for a brat such as herself. 

“Yes, you can do it. Come on my fingers, pretty girl.” he says, moving his fingers to her clit and circling it just as he knew she enjoyed it. She tried to speak his name, but she couldn’t process the syllables to do so. She had used the last remnants of her voice moaning his name only seconds ago as he had requested. Only a strange mutter mixed with a moan came from her. “Oh yes, just like that.” he says, adding now a third finger temporarily, stretching her out. Aegon was pleased by her lack of words. She nods as he does so, with her hands moving from being entwined in his hair to absolutely anything around her. 

Usually, when they were in bed, she would grasp the sheets when she became close. It was something to ground her, making her feel stable in her weak state as she would cum. Now as she was surrounded by swords, there wasn’t much to hold on to. But that thought didn’t occur to her, as she was too obsessed with the orgasm that currently racked through her body. She let out a cry as she stupidly grasped a sword, slicing her finger as she came.

Aegon didn’t notice this at first, all he could do was watch her cunt clamp down on his fingers. He smirked evilly as he kissed her slit once more, then grabbed the bunched-up dress from her waist and made her modest once again. 

She was still breathing heavily from her orgasm, but her eyes were on her now sliced finger. “Fuck,” she whispered. That caught Aegon’s attention. He now stood in front of her, ready to scold her for her language, but then saw her wound. 

“You stupid woman.” he scoffed, grabbing her wrist. He inspected the cut. “How could you be so dumb? Grabbing the Iron Throne?” he asked, looking at her with a certain look of disdain. 

“I suppose you want me to fix it.” he groaned, looking into her eyes. A sense of embarrassment has filled her, more than already had. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. 

“Good. You’ve learned your lesson.” he smiles with dead eyes, his power trip coming to its height as he praised her. 

He takes her finger into his mouth, licking off the blood. Y/N groaned as he did, as his tongue swiped the cut roughly. Aegon enjoyed watching her in pain, swirling his tongue on her cut as he did with her clit just minutes ago. 

After the wound was empty of blood, he swallowed hard. So obviously, letting her know that her blood now rested in his throat. As a way to let her know that he truly does own her. 

“Do you want a bandage? I would hate for that to get infected.” 

He lets go of her hand.

She inspected her now-cleaned cut, but more blood seemed to seep through. Y/N knew all too well that it wouldn’t be that easy with Aegon.

“Do you want one?” he asks her. She nods. He comes close to her once again, grabbing her chin like he did before, and looked into her eyes, their faces only inches apart. “Use your words, love.” he says quietly but dominantly. 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asks, raising her chin slightly.

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” he purred once again. Aegon snapped his fingers at the nearest guard, and within seconds a bandage is delivered to him, along with some sanitizing liquid in a vile. The guard returns to his place. Y/N struggled to look the man in the eyes, knowing all six guards heard her moments before. 

He carefully took her hand, treating it with such grace. “Such a shame to see your pretty fingers hurt. Be more careful next time, dear. I don’t like my things to be broken.”

Aegon took some of the sanitizer and placed it on her cut. It made her pull back her hand slightly as she seethed at the pain. “You could have warned me,” she hissed. Aegon rolled his eyes. “Watch your tongue, girl. I am doing you a favor.”

He closed the vile and placed it in his pocket, and began to unwrap the bandage. “Is it too tight?” he asked her, looking up at her with kind eyes. She knew that his care wouldn’t last long, so she enjoyed it while she could. “No, my King. Just right.” she replied. He smiled as she used his proper title, the feeling of love he had for her returning momentarily. Aegon tied off her bandage, lifting her wrist and kissing her finger. 

"There we go," he says proudly, looking from her hand and back to her. Aegon was in awe of what was his. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her post-orgasm state. He huffed proudly.

“All better.”

-

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

[humanpurposes]

We're Born At Night, Series Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Rhaelle Targaryen (OFC)

Read on AO3 // Main Masterlist

The Dance of the Dragons is at an end and Aemond Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. Lady Rhaelle Targaryen travels from her home at Runestone to King's Landing, to plead for her sister's life. The King she must appeal to is a kinslayer three times over, the very man who killed her father. She will immerse herself in his court and earn his trust, and though she is determined not to lose sight of her initial purpose, she finds herself more drawn to Aemond than she anticipated.

General Warnings: 18+, angst, eventual smut, politics, mentions of war and death, grief, daddy issues, targcest/incest (cousin/cousin pairing)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Moodboards and whatnot

Rhaelle Moodboard

Aemond Moodboard

[littlefreya]

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker. 

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger. 

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death. 

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl. 

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.                                                                                                                                                

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle. 

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death. 

“Take off your cowl.”  

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like. 

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse. 

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face. 

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!    

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan. 

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person. 

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.” 

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back. 

“Are you a mute?” 

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…”  embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected. 

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.  

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment. 

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head. 

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic. 

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.” 

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.  

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him. 

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second. 

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded. 

She nodded, her throat clenching. 

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably. 

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart. 

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?” 

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest. 

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice. 

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?” 

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back. 

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke. 

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air. 

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.” 

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred. 

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered. 

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.  

‘Do it, do it now.’ 

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun. 

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react. 

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy.  He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

 “I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal. 

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail.