#love me some iron suit

[oluka]

Iron Man (1968) #232 // Invincible Iron Man (2022) #17

[birthofvcnus]

i say this with all the love in my heart bc i really do like them but le sserafim are going to get absolutely DESTROYED at coachella 😭

[yzzart]

"This suits me better."

pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader

summary: Tom and you wear the same jacket and it doesn't go unnoticed by your fans.

word count: 535!

"Look at this!"

The atmosphere of the room, which smelled like a mixture of fragrances, was contemplated with your willing and excited laughter, wanting to comment on a peculiar thing that passed before your eyes. — And that you could spend hours and hours talking about.

Moving around on the bed, you sat and anxiously waited for your boyfriend's attention, who was focused on something on his cell phone; possibly something related to Instagram, as you received an account notification from it.

In a matter of a few seconds, Tom looked away from his cell phone, leaving it resting on his lap, and paid attention to what you were showing him. — They were photos.

But not ordinary photos, funny images or some meme; they were photos of you and him. — To be more specific, a photo of you and a photo of him; In your photo, you were on your way to the radio building where you were going to give an interview and in Tom's photo, it was an excerpt from an interview he did with Rachel. —Nothing much, right?

Just a peculiar and interesting factor, which did not go unnoticed by the attentive and connected eyes of the fans, that you were wearing the same jacket that Tom was wearing in the second photo. — Which, by the way, was extremely comfortable and beautiful; and it still smelled like Blyth. — He even said he felt robbed.

The tweets about your relationship were funny, charming and brought adorable smiles to your lips; df course, that feeling, a sense of fear and concern was not left behind, but it never entered your relationship. — And you've lost count of how many posts about you two Rachel has already sent.

"I can't believe they realized that." — Tom was intrigued, with a shy smile and finding the comment on the photo funny; who talked excitedly about you wearing the same piece of clothing. — "Actually, i do."

"I think it's cute." — The oldest asked permission, with a look, to take out your cell phone and look at the photos in a better way and you granted it, watching him zoom in on your photo. — "And they still agree that this jacket suits me better."

"Oh, of course, my love." — Blyth laughed, in an ironic tone and with his eyebrows raised, continuing to see the tweet and some of the comments present in them.

One more movement in bed, now, not so abruptly, made by you when you pick up a pillow and lean on it. — The fabric was so soft and smelled like Tom's fragrance, one of your favorites, and the typical smell of new things.

"There are people who agree that it suits me." — He exclaims with satisfaction, turning the device towards you.

"Oh, of course, my love." — Now, your voice had an ironic tone accompanied by a playful smile, pretending to believe your lover's words and bringing your face closer to his; slowly kissing his cheek.

Automatically, Tom turned his face towards you, face to face, and pressed his lips against yours in a quick kiss. — You could feel a smile forming on your boyfriend's delicious lips during the kiss.

Okay, he agrees that you suit his jacket better.

[animeshotsh]

Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |

Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...

Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |

When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.

"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.

Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.

Something was wrong, really wrong.

"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.

"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.

It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.

Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.

"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"

The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.

Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.

He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.

He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.

Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.

Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.

Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.

Or worse.

"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"

He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.

"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.

Or well, trying to.

"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.

Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.

"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"

"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes

~☆~☆~☆~

After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.

He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.

Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.

~☆~☆~☆

It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.

"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.

With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.

~☆~☆~

Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.

But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.

~☆~☆~

"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.

He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.

He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.

And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.

"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.

"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.

~☆~☆~

[deadsetobsessions]

Some night, he flew above the twinkling lights of Blüdhaven’s buildings, wind rushing through his hair and the feeling of weightlessness pushing at the curve of his back.

There were a multitude of things that Dick Grayson appreciated, loved, Bruce for. One of those things would always be that his adopted dad allowed him to fly once more, even after his parents’ wings were cut.

In the air, he was home.

In the air, Dick Grayson felt like he was living up to, flying alongside, the Flying Graysons. Every flip, every trick he used to go faster, to fight better, felt like his parents were there guiding his every move.

Time healed his hurt, but still, the hole in his heart remained.

So when one of his best friends, a ghost vigilante by the name Phantom, asked him if he wanted to see his parents, he froze like a deer in bright white headlights.

“What…?”

Phantom did a flip in midair. “Wanna see your parents? They’ve been asking if they could talk to you.”

“My parents… are ghosts?” That was the least pressing question he had right now, but it was all his mouth could speak.

“Kind of. It’s complicated,” Phantom side-eyed him. “It would require going into the zone.”

And just like that, Dick understood. After the Amity Park came onto the map and the Justice League fixed the human and alien and meta rights violations that were happening right under their nose, Phantom had permanently closed all access to the Zone. Save, of course, for himself and a few magic users, who all refused to anger the King of the Dead.

“The only way you’re getting to my people now, is through me. Should anyone try to get into the zone, without my permission… I will make sure that you and your family’s afterlives will pay the appropriate price.”

No-one wanted to test his threat. The afterlife is something few fucked with and came back whole.

The Phantom they’d seen on the news then was incredibly different than the one in front of him now. Dick knows, understands now, that it was because Phantom trusted him. After years of being denied help, years of struggling all by himself to keep reality from collapsing while avoiding getting experimented on by humans understandably closed his heart.

“You’d take me into the Zone?” Dick didn’t know what he was feeling. Hope, fear, trust, touched, happiness, something.

A lot of things.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. I trust you,” he said as he glanced back at Dick-at Nightwing. “Only you, though. No one else.”

The question that remained was whether Dick trusted Phantom too. And considering the fact that the ghost king ironically saved his ass from being killed a couple of times meant, “Yeah. I- I’d love to.”

Danny smiled, all pointed teeth and solemn trust. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Now?!” Dick stood up anyways, his heart in his throat. Danny held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, now. Haven’t you heard that death waits for no one?” At Dick’s concerned look, Danny added, “Don’t worry. You won’t actually die. You’ll come back whole and alive, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, then!”

——

Clark Kent threw himself out of the window, Superman suit already on.

Seonds later, he was hovering in front of Bruce’s shadowy form on top of a gargoyle.

“Clark,” Batman greeted in his gravelly voice, irritated. “What.”

“Batman, Nightwing’s heartbeat- it disappeared!”

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered.

[pseudowho]

Fumus et Ignis

Sometimes, Hiromi smokes after a hard day. Sometimes, he makes love to you until you're both crying out for each other.

And sometimes, he does both at once.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Hiromi being a desperate mess, and smoking is bad for you. *Gavel tap* Naughty.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+--+

Your thighs burn with effort as Hiromi's frown only deepens, one hand rucking your hips so your pussy presses down on his clothed cock, the other hand slowly raising a glowing cigarette to his lips.

He hisses, releasing a plume of smoke, charcoal eyes glinting like a hungry dragon as his jaw slackens, bucking his hips up into you. You whimper and shudder, feeling a gush of arousal seep from your aching pussy onto his black trousers; Hiromi's cock twitches within its confines, and his smoke-roughened voice breathes an open-mouthed growl of appreciation.

"You can do better than that, my love-- it's been such a long day..."

You feel the sharp sting of his hand slapping against your bare arse as your pace increases, rubbing your clit against the silk-on-iron sensation of his suit trousers over his throbbing cock. Hiromi sits up, hooded eyes heavy with lust staring deeply into yours, pulling his tie off with one hand and gripping your wrists behind your back with another. His cigarette, with its heady bitter scent and coil of rising smoke, is gripped between his teeth to the edge of his lips.

"Maybe if you're going to ride me, you need some reins," he rasps, sandy voice hushed against your ear, as he threads his black tie around your bound wrists.

Restricted, and so close to the edge of your orgasm, Hiromi groans through cigarette-gripped gritted teeth as he lifts your t-shirt over your head. It gets trapped at your bound hands, and he twists it round your bounds, using it to pin you down as he drops his cigarette into the ashtray beside him, taking your exposed breasts roughly into his mouth and hands, licking and rolling your now wet, puffy nipples.

Hiromi whispers his smoky breath against your breasts as he nuzzles, licks and sucks on you; "So filthy how wet you are, and I'm not even inside you...I've got to fill you up more than once tonight-- I need to-- I--"

The stinging pleasure of Hiromi sucking on your breasts like a man starved, connects like a thin thread to your clit as you roll your stuttering hips on Hiromi's cock, his groin now so wet with your combined arousal and pre-cum that you soak through to each other. Hot and shaking, you cum with a weak cry, Hiromi's bounds tight as he forces your fluttering pussy against his cock, pinching your nipples as he leans back and watches the show. As you tremble and come down from your high, Hiromi's gaze doesn't falter as he releases his cock, falling long and throbbing against his belly, the head red and angry with deprivation.

Pulling upwards on your twisted t-shirt and his tie, your wrists buckle and you're forced up onto your knees, thighs shaking with effort. Hiromi leans forwards, cupping you round the cheek and forcing your head to tilt as he nips the side of your neck, whispering dirty affirmations to you, his thumb dipping over your lower lip to stroke your tongue. Hiromi whines, biting your neck harder as you latch onto his thumb, flicking your tongue against its sensitive tip.

"We'll save that wet little tongue for later...but for now--"

With little warning, Hiromi bucks up into you, yanking you down against so your arse claps against his thighs, and you choke out a cry of his name as you twitch, his cockhead immediately deep and throbbing against your cervix. Hiromi moans through gritted teeth, bucking upwards, urging a constant pressure against your belly.

Leaning back onto the sofa and pulling you with him, Hiromi keeps you tethered down against him as he thrusts relentlessly up into you while you mewl his name, face muffled into his chest, smelling of sweat, smoke and this morning's cologne. Hiromi starts to fall apart, one hand twisting your wrists and the other grasping your cheek, urging you to look up at him. He hooks his thumb into your mouth again, an overwhelming burst of love and desire rushing through him at your flushed cheeks and glazed 'fuck me' eyes.

"Open up," he whispers, and you keen at him as he spits in your mouth, his spit hot and smoky, mixing with yours. Hiromi firmly squeezes the front of your throat as you move to swallow-- "don't. I need you wetter."

Holding his hand to your mouth, you coat Hiromi's first and middle fingers with your combined spit, and Hiromi ducks his hand between your flush bodies, coating your clit with the slick as he rolls, strokes and flicks your bud in his long, clever fingers. You gasp and your hips hump reflexively into him and Hiromi whimpers, desperate.

"Please cum with me-- I can't last--" Hiromi whines, eyes narrowed and desperate as his hips flick upwards, orgasm clenched in his thighs and back as he holds himself back, watching you twist and writhe your clit and cervix against his fingers and cockhead.

Sweaty and trembling with overstimulation, your second orgasm has you seeing stars, and Hiromi's eyes roll back as he feels your pussy flutter and clench around him, all he needed to bring him over the edge.

"Oooh, fuck-- fuck, please-- deeper-- deeper I'm--" Hiromi babbles, breaking off into nonsensical whimpers as he spasms roughly, his thighs cramping and head spinning with the force of his orgasm, gasping agonal moans into your hair as his seed coats your cervix in white, seeping down around his twitching cock until his lap is slick with cum.

You lean back together, both panting, inextricably tied. Hiromi lightheadedly releases the binds on your hands, floppy and pliable, his cock softening, sated, inside you.

Hiromi hears a grating flick, and smells a puff of flame, as you press something to his lips. Chuckling, he grips the cigarette between his lips, taking a dutiful inward breath and surrounding you both in a warm cloud of fragrant tobacco.

"Don't need one anymore," he whispers, sandy and playful, his embering eyes gazing at you in adoration, "you're far better stress-relief."

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Thanks to @gojo-mochi for the filthy banter and inspo

[marvelfanfics1]

omg omg idk if u take requests if u are can you do a winter soldier x little reader? maybe like bucky somehow gets into the winter soldier mode and is scary towards everyone else but the reader (like he goes soft for the reader)😭

Code: Winter

Pairing: daddy!Bucky x little!reader

Warnings: age regression, soft!Winter Soldier, mentions of guns, angst?, some fluff

⭒𖥸⭒

You whined when your nap got interrupted by the blarring alarm and constant repeating words 'code winter'.

Holding your hands over your ears you turned on your other side, expecting your daddy to lay beside you reading a book but frowned when you found his side of the bed empty.

Grabbing your stuffie you got up from your comfortable bed, making your way to the door and opening it slightly, peeking your head out.

You saw several agents and trainees running past your room, all seeming rather panicked and your little mind can't grasp the thought of there being a reason, or someone, for them being so scared, instead your curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and look for yourself.

Meanwhile in the common area Steve was trying to console Bucky with Sam and Natasha behind him, aiming their weapons at him.

"Buck, come on, you know us-" Steve placed his shield down, trying to show he's no threat to the soldier.

"Steve! Look out!" Natasha shouted all three of them throw themselves to the side when the couch was being thrown their way.

Just as the soldier started approaching them he got send back by a repulsor shot from Tony who flied in just in time, in his iron man suit.

"That was a 2 thousand dollar couch, Terminator."

The soldier now grabbed the gun he had tucked in the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Tony when a small voice had them all turning their heads.

"Daddy...?" Your bottom lip trembling you held your stuffie close to your chest, not understanding why he was being mean to your aunt and uncles. "What you doin'?"

The soldier slowly made his way towards you, aiming his his gun straight at Steve when he took a step forward.

While walking to you the voice in his head he kept pushing away became even louder than before.

Do. Not. Hurt. Her. I dare you.

When he stood before you he tilted his head at the tear that was rolling down your cheek, his metal hand reaching up to wipe it away gently. In the deepest of his mind he knows you're no threat to him and picked you up with his metal arm placing you on his hip, his other hand still aiming the gun at the others to keep them at a good distance while walking out of the room.

The others all let out a sigh, still not at ease knowing the freaking Winter Soldier has you with him with no supervision.

"What are we gonna do now? If we step one foot in their room we'll have a bullet in our head." Sam said crossing his arms.

"He won't hurt her." Steve assured them.

"And how do you know that?" Tony laughed at him.

"I just know, alright. As much as the Winter Soldier wanted to, he couldn't. Bucky would never let that happen, even in this state."

"You better be right, Capsicle." Tony pointed a finger at him.

Back in your room, you were sitting on his lap, trying to analyze his expressions but there were none. Cold and dull eyes where staring at you, not the bright blue ones that you got used to and loved so much.

"You not daddy?" You asked, nervously playing with a lose seam of your stuffie.

When he shook his head you frowned a little. It confused you how he can be the Bucky you've known for years now but also doesn't at the same time. It's like talking to a clone, a much more colder one at that but still you can't help but feel safe in his arms.

The soldier doesn't like to see you upset, some inner part of him feels the need to comfort you in any way possible.

"Call me papa." He said with a russian accent and your face lit up at that, glad you didn't lost your caregiver completely.

You nod with a small smile, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, your interrupted nap now catching up with you.

"Love you, papa." You mumbled, yawning before finally closing your eyes again.

The soldier hummed in response, his metal hand rubbing subconsciously on your back and feeling your body relaxing against his.

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Bucky:

@almostcontentcreator

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!!

[bigfatbimbo]

The Morning After —

Velvette x reader,, 770 words

summary — The follow up morning after a one night stand with your situationship, Velvette, during particularly rowdy party.

tags — Fluff, mentions of sex, reader isn’t dating Velvette, pining, wlw implied but not really, gn reader

a/n — I am so in love with her she’s so pretty. Expect more Velvette content in the future. I know they don’t get as much attention but i’m down bad.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how warm you were. It took you a moment to adjust to your surroundings.

Instead of your shitty apartment, you woke in a far more glamorous, if you were being honest superior, room covered in lots of pinks. Yours and someone else’s clothes were scattered on the floor, along with various wine glasses.

And contrary to the usual solitude you woke with, you had your arms tightly wrapped around Velvettes stomach.

You internally groan. The party, you thought to yourself. Last night you went to an extravagant party hosted by the Vees, and had obviously ended up in Velvettes bed.

Of course, you two had fucked before, duh. In fact, your casual sex ‘booty-call’ relationship seemed to suit you both. But you had never actually cuddled with her afterwards, and you especially hadn’t stayed the whole night. 

And yet, something was drawing you closer to her. As if when you break this contact you’ll never get this moment back. You pulled her closer to you by her stomach and nuzzled your head in the crook of her neck.

It’s then you got a good look at you. Her hair had fluffed up into its natural form in the night, leaving it soft and puffy, also allowing you to smell the faint strawberry conditioner she uses.

Morning light fell on her through the window, highlighting her features perfectly, ironically almost angelically. Her makeup from last night had smeared, her lipstick rubbing off onto her lower lip and her mascara smeared on her cheeks.

You could see her neck was littered in hickeys and from the ache on yours, you could only assume you had the same problem.

You press a gentle kiss on her neck and she stirred, humming softly.

“Morning,” you whisper, planting another kiss on the bruises on her neck.

“You’re still here,” she remarked, yawning and arching her back up into you. 

The comment wasn’t mean-spirited, just simply an observation.

“I’m still here,” you say, almost, if not more dumbfounded than her.

This wasn’t your usual ‘fuck, clean-up, and run’ routine, but Velvette didn’t seem to mind. 

“You know the coffee maker in the corner of the room?” Velvette asked, voice still groggy from sleep and a mild hangover.

“Yeah, I’m aware of it,” you say, scanning the room the place where the machine was.

“‘Would love some. Thank you, darling.” She nuzzled into the pillow next to her and gently pushed you away. 

You roll your eyes slightly and get up, “How do you like your coffee?”

She simply groaned and buried her face in the pillow, “Who cares.” Maybe, she had more than a mild hangover after all.

You had a sneaking feeling that after you poured her coffee she would definitely care. 

After coming back to the bed with two mugs she glanced up at you, “Toss me my bra, would you, darling?” 

“Oh, of course, princess,” you tease, “Would you like a back massage while i’m at it?” 

She took this in consideration, “Well if you’re offering.” She smiled cockily at you as she put on her bra and took her coffee mug off of the table.

You got back into bed and she squeezed in next to you, resting her head on your chest. 

She took a swig of the coffee and made a face, “It’s too bitter.” 

“You said you didn’t care!” you laugh a little. 

There was something so funny about the current situation, you two lying in bed together with her at your side. Drinking coffee and bantering.

It all felt so domestic.

Which you felt strange because for one, you weren’t even dating and two, until today you had no doubts in your mind that you two were nothing more than great sex every now and than.

“Whatever,” she chirped, “I guess i’ll just have to go back to bed.” Velvette pulled you closer to her as she got comfortable.

A little part of you wondered if she was just bitching about the coffee to have an excuse to go back to bed. But why? So she could keep cuddling you? So you wouldn’t leave so soon?

You chose not to think about it, petting her hair gently as she went back to sleep. You couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked like this, peaceful. 

“Sweet dreams, princess,” This time the nickname didn’t feel as mocking. You thought about going back to bed, but you decided to stay up. 

After all, you wanted to be there when Velvette woke up in your arms once again.

a/n —Following up a fic where the reader and Vox aren’t just friends or lovers but a secret third thing with a fic where the reader and Velvette aren’t just friends or lovers but a secret third thing.

I’m not projecting, my love life is uncomplicated and great.

[shanastoryteller]

tony gets kidnapped on his way to a business meeting or something and he goes with it because they’re in a pretty crowded area and he doesn’t want some innocent bystanders getting hurt in the scuffle. the team will notice eventually and his overprotective boyfriend captain american is going to 1. notice very quickly and 2. freak the fuck out, so he’s not really risking much here

also these kidnappers are sort of stupid and he’s not really worried about escaping later. except even though they’re stupid they mention things about the avengers and shield that they really shouldn’t know so tony decides to stick around to see if he can figure out if they lucked into hacking past his security (not likely) or if there’s some sort of mole

except the leader and the underlings get in an argument right in front of him because apparently they were supposed to capture captain america, not iron man, and the guy who grabbed him is like no, no, this is better! we have his boyfriend so we can lure him here instead!

meanwhile tony is just stating in disbelief that these idiots manage to string two thoughts together. there has to be mole. or someone else really in charge. or something.

and the leader is like fine whatever. he takes tony’s phone and opens the contacts and snorts, “this is what you have him saved us? pathetic”

tony looks at the contact labeled <3 <3 love of my life light in the dark wind beneath my wings <3 <3 and is sort of glad he’s gagged so he can’t say anything

he still doesn’t really know what’s going on and jarvis is still trying to hack their system an there’s no harm in sticking around a little longer since these people are. you know. idiots

except approximately fifteen minues later rhodey is busting down the wall and taking out all these guys in thirty seconds flat and tony slips out of the ropes that he’d undone about five minutes after being put into them (thanks nat) and pulls down the gag and says, “i thought you were on radio silence on a mission in ghana”

“i thought you could be trusted on your own, so it looks like we’re both wrong,” rhodey says. “what were you playing at?”

“i would have told you not to come if i’d known you’d get the message,” he protests. “i was working an angle here, okay, jarvis are you into their systems yet?”

“yes,” his trusty ai says from his phone from one of the kidnapper’s pockets. “tracing the origin of their financial backer now.”

“you really didn’t have to stay kidnapped for jarvis to do that,” rhodey points out, brushing him off and checking him for injuries.

tony shrugs. “i didn’t want to risk one of them getting away and tipping them off. take care of them i could. do it before they got a signal out without the suit? maybe not.”

this very reasonable discussion is interrupted by the rest of the avengers coming in swinging and then left blinking except for steve who feels the need to fuss over him while tony whines and complains and pretends he doesn’t love it

he says they were after steve anyway, he was just bait and steve frowns and is like well, why didn’t they try and contact me then? we knew something was wrong because of the stark industries security footage

and natasha, the sneak, has picked tony’s phone from the kidnapper’s pocket. he lunges for it but she skips back from him and says, “well it looks like they tried. they just messaged the wrong person”

steve takes the phone and sees the contact name and that the kidnappers sent the message we have your boyfriend and if you don’t do exactly what we say you’ll never see him again and is like. this is what rhodey is saved as in your phone?? what am i??

“look, the things is, it’s not like i actually use anyone’s contact, or look at it, i just tell jarvis who to call, so you really shouldn’t take this personally,” tony says.

steve types in his own number and stares in disbelief. “captain? i’m saved in your phone as CAPTAIN?”

“okay well when you gave me your number we weren’t dating and also you were being very mean to me at the time, so,” he says, resisting the urge to hide behind rhodey because he doesn’t think that will help

steve turns his gaze to rhodey. “what is tony saved as in your phone?”

“i really don’t think that’s relevant,” he answers, looking back at the hole in the wall like he’s considering flying out of it.

“jarvis, what’s tony saved as in rhodey’s contacts?” steve asks.

tony says, “j, don’t-“

“sir is saved in colonel rhodes’s contacts as baby,” jarvis answers.

clint is laughing so hard he’s going to break a rib. natasha raises an eyebrow, which is about the same thing

steve’s face is pure betrayal

“it’s because he’s an infant,” rhodey says, “and very needy and he throws up on me a lot.”

“hey!” tony scowls. “i haven’t done that in years!”

“and when you were texted about your boyfriend being kidnapped, you just knew it was tony?” steve asks.

rhodey shrugs. “well, who else would it be?”

even steve doesn’t have an answer to that

“it’s purely platonic,” tony says reassuringly, “carol would scratch my eyes out.”

steve scowls and sulks until tony changes his contact name

except now he’s in tony’s phone as captain handsome. he tells himself it’s an upgrade

[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.

Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.

However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.

Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.

As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.

Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.

To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.

‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.

‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.

You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.

‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

‘I didn’t say any-‘

‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’

You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.

‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’

Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.

[joelsgreys]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but emptiness this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[xtra7s]

Regina George (2024) x fem reader smut story please

love your writing💖

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Synopsis: Regina decides to talk to the party's wallflower.

Content: Switch!Regina, Switch!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, degradation, praise

Word Count: 2.4k+

masterlist

Regina George surveyed the pulsating scene with laser-sharp precision. Bodies gyrated beneath strobe lights, shouts competed with thumping bass, and the air clung heavy with teenage pheromones and regretful decisions waiting to happen. She, of course, was above it all – a queen bee observing her hive.

Her gaze scanned the crowd, searching for anything remotely interesting. Suddenly, she spotted her – Y/N, tucked away in a corner like a stray sunflower yearning for sunshine. Unlike the other girls, desperately vying for attention with their suggestive dance moves and clingy outfits, Y/N exuded an effortless cool.

Clad in a rumpled t-shirt and jeans, she sipped from a solo cup of water, an ironic halo of untouched purity amidst the spilled vodka and cheap beer. The way she held her head, the faint amusement curving her lips – it was like watching a lone wolf observing a pack of clumsy hyenas.

Intrigued, Regina glided towards her. As she got closer, she detected a hint of jasmine oil and the faint trace of worn paperback pages clinging to Y/N's aura – an intellectual oasis in a sea of predictable clichés.

Regina, the apex predator, couldn't resist the challenge. "Care to join the living, wallflower?" she drawled, the words laced with honeyed venom.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the Regina George's presence. "Not particularly," she replied, her voice calm yet somehow holding the power to quiet the room. "It seems the living are doing a splendid job entertaining themselves."

Regina smirked, appreciating the subtle dig. Most girls crumpled under her gaze, but Y/N held her ground, her sharp wit mirroring her own. This was unexpected, a challenge.

"Suit yourself," Regina said, leaning against the wall beside her. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy watching the spectacle."

Y/N shrugged, her lips curving into a slight smile. "There's a certain humor in it, observing the desperate search for validation."

Regina laughed, a genuine sound that surprised even her. "You're not wrong. So, what are you validating tonight?"

Y/N took a sip of her water, gazing at the swirling lights. "Myself. By not participating in this charade."

Regina found herself drawn in, captivated by Y/N's quiet confidence. It was a stark contrast to the usual sycophants who surrounded her. "Charades are tiring," she admitted, a touch of vulnerability slipping into her voice.

Y/N turned to her, her eyes meeting Regina's with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "They are," she agreed. "But sometimes, they're all we have."

The unspoken connection hung heavy in the air, charged with a strange electricity. At that moment, the queen bee and the wallflower found themselves on the same wavelength, two islands of solitude amidst the teenage storm.

A slow song drifted through the din, and Regina, on a whim, extended her hand. "Dance with me, wallflower," she offered, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/N hesitated, then placed her hand in Regina's. Their fingers intertwined, warm and surprisingly comforting. As they moved to the music, a slow, tentative sway, the party faded away. It was just them, two souls yearning for something outside the charade, finding solace in a shared moment of understanding.

"Hey, Y/N, want to take a break from all this craziness? I know a spot where we can have some peace and quiet," Regina suggests, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Intrigued, Y/N nods, and Regina leads them through the pulsating crowd, expertly navigating the chaotic party scene. They reach a more secluded part of the house, away from the booming music and laughter. Regina opens the door to a private room, inviting Y/N inside.

The room is dimly lit, with a few candles casting a soft glow. Regina closes the door behind them, muffling the sounds of the party. The sudden change in atmosphere is palpable, and Y/N can't help but feel a sense of anticipation.

Regina smirks playfully, "Well, we've got our own little oasis now. No prying eyes, no judgment. Just us and a room to escape the madness. What do you say, Y/N?"

In the dimly lit room, Regina George's demeanor takes a flirtatious turn as she playfully approaches Y/N. The air becomes charged with a mix of tension and anticipation as Regina, with a mischievous smile, begins to make advances while maintaining her signature mean-girl edge.

"So, Y/N, did you come to the party hoping to be the wallflower, or were you just too scared to stand out?" Regina teases, her words laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Y/N, caught off guard by Regina's sudden change in tone, stammers a response, "I just don't care about that stuff."

Regina circles Y/N, a confident and assertive aura surrounding her. "Well, you're in luck because tonight, I've decided to make you my project," she declares, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

As the advances become more direct, Regina continues to walk the fine line between flirtation and mockery. She compliments Y/N's appearance while making snide comments, creating a confusing mix of emotions for Y/N. Regina's unpredictable behavior keeps Y/N on edge, unsure of whether to embrace the attention or be wary of Regina's underlying intentions.

In this shared space, Regina uses her mean girl tactics to both attract and challenge Y/N, creating a complex dynamic between them. As the night unfolds, Y/N is left navigating Regina's dual approach, trying to decipher whether there's genuine interest or if it's just another one of Regina's games. The shared space becomes a battleground of emotions, leaving Y/N torn between responding to Regina's advances and maintaining a sense of self-respect.

In the dimly lit room, Regina George leans over Y/N, her eyes fixed with an intense gaze as she grins mischievously. Y/N can feel the energy in the room shift, a mixture of nervousness and curiosity.

Regina's teasing tone continues, "Well, well, look who's blushing." Her words are accompanied by a playful smirk as she revels in making fun of Y/N's nervousness.

As Regina continues her taunting, she leans in closer, and with a sudden move, she places a few teasing kisses on Y/N's neck and jaw. Y/N's breath catches, a combination of surprise and the unexpected touch sending a shiver down their spine.

Regina pulls back slightly, still grinning, her tone a blend of mockery and allure, "You're easy to read, Y/N. Can't handle a little attention, huh?"

Y/N, caught off guard by Regina's bold move, struggles to find the right words. The room is filled with a charged atmosphere as Regina maintains her confident stance, reveling in the control she seems to have over the situation.

The shared space becomes a battleground of emotions, with Y/N torn between the embarrassment of Regina's teasing and the unexpected thrill of the flirtatious encounter. Regina, enjoying the game she's playing, continues to blur the lines between mean-spirited taunts and alluring gestures, leaving Y/N unsure of how to navigate this unexpected and complex dynamic.

The room's atmosphere intensifies as Regina George boldly places her hands on Y/N's thighs. Y/N can feel Regina's touch, sending a rush of mixed emotions through them. Regina, with a confident smirk, leans in and kisses Y/N deeply, the moment becoming charged with a blend of desire and defiance.

As Regina pulls back, she locks eyes with Y/N, a hint of challenge in her gaze. "I'm not hearing a no," Regina murmured, her words hanging in the air.

Y/N, still processing the unexpected turn of events, takes a moment to gather their thoughts. Regina's touch and the passionate kiss leave them conflicted, caught between the allure of the moment and a sense of uncertainty.

Regina grinned, hiking Y/N's jeans down her thighs, as Regina's fingers brushed against Y/N's sensitive spot through her panties, sending electric shockwaves of desire coursing through her. Y/N moaned softly, her hips moving subtly against Regina's touch.

"Have you ever been with a girl?" Regina purred, her breath hot against Y/N's ear.

"no," Y/N whimpered, their voice barely audible. "I want to be though"

With renewed confidence, Regina slipped her hand underneath Y/N's panties, pulling them down. "Spread your legs wide for me," she ordered, her voice husky with desire.

Y/N complied, spreading her legs wide apart, exposing her moistening folds to Regina's hungry gaze. Her heart raced faster as she awaited what would come next.

Regina's lips brushed against Y/N's neck, trailing kisses downwards toward her cleavage. She paused briefly, savoring the taste of their sweat and arousal. Then she leaned down, leaving kisses and bite marks on Y/N's thighs. She teased her breath against Y/N's heat, her tongue darting out to lick voraciously at Y/N's wet folds.

Y/N let out a sharp gasp, her hands reaching out reflexively to grip Regina's blonde hair. Regina continued to devour Y/N's pussy, sucking and slurping greedily, her skilled tongue probing deeply into every crevice. She alternated between rapid flicks and slower, teasing strokes, driving Y/N wild with desire.

Her hand snaked down to fondle and squeeze Y/N's ass, applying pressure wherever she felt most sensitive. Meanwhile, Y/N's moans grew increasingly louder, their body trembling with need.

"More," Y/N begged, her voice hoarse with pleasure. "I need more."

Regina chuckled darkly, her breath hot against Y/N's sensitive folds. "You'll get plenty of more," she promised, her words nearly growls of desire.

She increased the pace of her oral assault on Y/N's pussy, her tongue flicking faster and harder, seeking out hidden spots she knew would drive them mad with pleasure.

As Y/N's orgasm neared, Regina's actions became more frantic, her tongue working overtime to pleasure Y/N. "Cum for me, doll." she groaned, her voice rough with need.

Y/N screamed, her body tensing up in anticipation. Her muscles contracted tightly around Regina's mouth, her juices coating her face and mouth. Regina swallowed every drop, her eyes filled with satisfaction as she watched Y/N's orgasm wash over them.

"your pussy is so pretty," she praised, her voice husky with satisfaction.

Without giving Y/N time to catch their breath, Regina slipped two fingers into Y/N's wet opening, stretching her open further. "You're gonna cum so many times tonight slut," she murmured, her tone commanding yet laced with desire.

Y/N moaned, unable to resist the invasion. Her body adjusted quickly to the intrusion, accommodating Regina's fingers effortlessly. She arched her back, inviting more.

Regina obliged, thrusting her digits in and out of Y/N's tight channel, her thumb rubbing circles around her sensitive spot. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Y/N's body, causing her entire frame to shake with ecstasy.

Despite being spent, Y/N couldn't help but beg for more. "More, please. I need more."

Regina chuckled darkly, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "You're such a greedy little thing, aren't you?" She picked up the pace, her fingers moving faster and deeper. "I'm going to make you scream my name, Y/N."

Y/N's walls tightened around her fingers, signaling another orgasm building within her. "Regina! Oh fuck, Regina!" She cried out, her voice cracking with need.

With one final thrust, Regina's fingers found Y/N's G-spot, hitting it perfectly. A loud, primal cry escaped Y/N's lips as she came again, their body convulsing violently. Wave after wave of bliss washed over her, leaving them feeling completely spent yet still wanting more.

Panting heavily, Regina finally withdrew her fingers, allowing Y/N some much-needed respite. She sat back on her heels, admiring her work. "Tell me you want me to tie you down and keep going," she teased, her voice laced with satisfaction.

Y/N laughed weakly, their breath still uneven. "Don't think I wouldn't," they managed to croak out between ragged breaths.

Regina leaned back, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath. She smiled down at Y/N, a mixture of pride and desire shining brightly in her eyes. "Well, then maybe later," she teased, her voice still husky with desire.

Y/N, feeling emboldened by their recent encounter, decided to take matters into their own hands—literally. Reaching out, she trailed their fingers down Regina's toned stomach, stopping just above her exposed pussy. Regina's breath hitched in anticipation, her eyes widening in surprise. "Y/N…" she whispered, daring Y/N to continue.

Slowly, confidently, Y/N slipped their index finger between her own lips, savoring the taste of her own juices mixed with Regina's scent. With a smirk, they slid it downwards, tracing a path along Regina's abdomen before pausing just above her clitoris. "Is this okay?" they asked playfully, their voice still slightly slurred from their previous orgasm.

Regina swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than before. Her breasts rose and fell quickly, nipples hardening further in anticipation. "Yes, please Y/N," she managed to choke out, her eyes locked on Y/N's movements.

Y/N's finger circled around Regina's clit, teasingly brushing against her sensitive bud. Regina squirmed slightly, her hips moving unconsciously towards the contact. "More," she moaned softly, her voice laden with desire.

Y/N obliged, increasing the pressure and speed of their caresses. Her finger dipped inside Regina's wetness, exploring her depths slowly. Regina's moans turned into gasps of pleasure, her body arching upward in response.

As Y/N continued to torment her, Regina's breathing became heavier, and her chest heaved rapidly. "Faster," she begged, her voice raspy with need. Y/N complied, picking up the pace, her fingers moving in and out of Regina's tight passage faster than before. Regina's body trembled with each thrust, her juices coating Y/N's hand.

Suddenly, Regina's world exploded, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her body convulsed violently, and she cried out Y/N's name, her nails digging lightly into the bedsheets. Her pussy clamped down tightly around Y/N's finger, milking every last drop of pleasure from their ministrations.

Panting heavily, Regina finally regained some composure. "God, Y/N," she panted, her cheeks flushed crimson with shame and desire. "That was… incredible."

Her eyes were half-closed, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and wonder. "For never being with a girl, you damn sure know how to make one cum."

Y/N smirked, pleased with their performance. "glad you enjoyed it," she admitted, her voice still husky with pleasure. "Let's clean up a bit, yeah?"

After the charged moment in the private room, Regina and Y/N decide to rejoin the party, the energy between them lingering as they step back into the lively atmosphere. The pulsating music, laughter, and colorful lights greet them as they seamlessly blend back into the crowd.

Regina, surprisingly, has a softer and more genuine demeanor as they dance together, leaving behind the mean girl facade. The tension from the private room transforms into a shared connection, and Regina's playfulness takes on a more sincere tone.

[schwarzkatje]

'50s!au with butch!ellie and married!fem!reader || part 2

part 1

ellie wants you to come with her at the gay hideout she spends the majority of her nights at. she may have sounded sly and even flirty when she asked to go together, but now she is starting to get the feeling like she crossed a line there.

it's ironic because ellie seems to take pride in showing how confident and unbothered she is, whether it's with joel or her group of friends. she always speaks her mind and loathes the thought of being silenced or when she's asked to be someone she is not.

if only this time there wasn't more at stake than the protection alone of her being: there's you. ellie doesn't want it to be over before even getting the chance to try. she knows deep down that losing you or scaring you away would be too much to take.

she mentally slaps her face with how ridiculous she's being. because you actually accepted the invitation. but still, ellie thinks she may be reading into it too much, not wishing to fall into the trap of false hope.

but then again, it's not like ellie asked you out: the only reason why this is happening is because your husband, joel and other friends of theirs gathered to play card games, leaving you alone and bored. the opportunity presented itself, that's what ellie makes of it. you, on the other hand, told your husband that it would be nice to get to know ellie and to get some fresh air, since you aren't exactly used to it, being a stay at home housewife.

except that you of course lied about the location ellie and you are headed to. you know deep down it's wrong. on so many levels.

all this mental torturing results in ellie scoffing while she gets dressed, tying her trusty necktie and spraying cologne all over her suit. this time, it's a black one. perfect to be worn for the night.

you don't have a driving licence so it's ellie that picks you up. this excites you in a way you can't exactly put into words. for this reason when you see her car on your patio, your heart gives in to said excitement and almost leaves a hole in your chest.

you grab your purse and your coat, give your husband a kiss to which he doesn't respond in the most loving way, barely acknowledging you, too fixated on his cards. you don't have time nor the energy to let this affect your mood, not when you are once again busy trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of ellie.

she looks out of this world. the suit is not something you haven't seen. but the suit alongside the slicked back hair turns out to be a deathly combo. why don't you feel half the things you experience with ellie?

"you must like this place a great deal if you're going dressed so fancy," you attempt joking while getting inside the car because if you take it seriously you know you will get yourself embarrassed beyond limits.

ellie has to clear her throat the moment your leg enters the car, giving her the premium seat vision of your charcoal stockings and your red velvet dress, temptingly hugging your chest. she likes to think she's playing cool but she doesn't manage to steady her voice completely. "and you must be taking the "gotta make a good impression at all costs" rule maybe a little too far". wow, ellie, that's how you talk to a woman, congratulations. "i mean yeah you look good, obviously i was pulling your leg".

"i know, ellie, don't get too serious with me" i already have my whole current and future life for that, you prefer not to add. "and thank you. you don't look so bad yourself".

the whole ride is spent with silences and stolen glances taking the place of unsaid words. you appreciate it but you also make this your defence shield against any possible embarrassment. ellie, too, doesn't seem to mind, only asking you if she can light her cigarette.

you have to take a few hidden roads to arrive to destination but overall you must have taken fifteen minutes or so. ellie parks and she maybe too obviously speeds the whole turning it off process because you see her on your right opening the door. she tops it off with her giving you her hand to help you get out. needless to say, you forgot how small things like this used to make you happy.

"i promise you'll love this place. music is top notch and don't get me started on the drinks," ellie really wants you to enjoy it and it's not just the excitement in her voice that gives it away, rather how her big eyes that exude such a pure sweetness that even if the hideout turns out to be a flophouse, you couldn't find it in you to show disappointment. then again, ellie seems to care especially about you, so you highly doubt she invited you over just to take you to some dubious taste pub.

as soon as you two set foot in there, you are stunned: there are areas with decorated tables and chairs, long counters filled with shot glasses and distant niches which you can enter by scooting the velvety curtains right before these areas. your prejudice had been faster than your open mindedness: you assumed this place would be chaotic and with different music than soft jazz.

instead your eyes wander and a smile creeps on your lips. you don't notice right away all the gay and lesbian couples. well, of course you notice but the fact is... this doesn't shock. you see them dancing, kissing, drinking, having fun and you can swear a weight you didn't realise until now was being lifted off your stomach. so it's normal, you mentally slap yourself for what you just thought.

"told you, you're gonna have a blast," ellie's voice brings you back to planet earth and the hand that swiftly hugs your waist to guide you into the pub nearly sends you into space once again.

you don't blush but at the same time your legs quiver, imperceptibly so. still, ellie's touch is not one you simply dismiss. it marks you, it's hot and firm, yet so gentle you sometimes could doubt she even touched you. to obliterate any confusion, your skin reacts to it. every. single. time.

ellie leads you both to another room in the hideout. the classy interior continues to impress you and this time you spot leather couches instead of thin wood chairs. this can only mean you and ellie are going to sit real close to each other. you can't help but gulp.

the hand ellie placed on your waist disappears only when you take a seat on this small yet comfy sofa. before you is a coffee table with a numbered card and a list of all the drinks. you pick it up and turn to ellie, who has also taken a seat, legs open and elbows planted on the sofa back. fuck.

she bursts out laughing and your puzzled face only eggs her on. "i bet 50 bucks i can guess which drink you are gonna order," ellie is sure of herself on this and too bad for you her laugh spread across you as well. "am i so easy to read? wait, two can play this game. let me guess your drink too," you seize the opportunity to hammer your shell. after all, if you can't do it here where and when else would you?

"alright, then. shoot," dares you ellie. your eyes glint, filling with the excitement of a trivial game. "you're gonna have a beer. easy as that. maybe a little bit basic if i can say so myself but everyone loves a good beer".

"ouch, you just called the best drink in the world basic. like, i would totally agree if it wasn't for the fact that your choice is a martini, so..." this way of playing engages you and dares you to come out more and more.

"without olives," you punctuate. "it doesn't matter. i still won and you," ellie points at you wiggling her index finger "you are starting to look like a sore loser".

"i'm not. if anything i'm impressed," this comes out genuine since it's the truth. it's thrilling to have someone with whom to create a natural connection, someone who must have watched you over time because how else could she have guessed? what is the meaning of this? what are you doing?

the waitress finally arrives and ellie, still high on the eagerness of having guessed, decides to tease you a little more. "a martini, please," she declares while her shit eating grin is directed towards you. she's daring you once again and your pride makes you take the bait immediately. "and a beer. not too cold if that's possible, thank you".

once the waitress is out of sight, ellie shakes her head, still wearing that breathtaking smirk and fishes out another cigarette and she puts it in between her lips. "damn, what were you saying about not being a sore loser?" ellie fiddles with the lighter, looking right at you. "you are making fun of me so you get a lukewarm beer," you cross your arms, pushing your breasts together and you inch closer to ellie.

"a beer is a beer," ellie takes a puff and drops some ash into the glass tray. "and by the way i'm too happy you came to even be bothered". she sounds so sincere and innocent it physically hurts you. you feel more and more like it's your job to protect her. "i'm happy i came, too. i needed this," what you meant by 'this' is unknown even to you.

your drinks don't take too long before they are placed on the small table and you take them. as if you had previously agreed, you raise them, tilting to bring them closer. ellie is the first to talk. "a toast to happiness, then." "a toast to happiness," you repeat.

it hits you when the alcohol starts its descend into your veins just how much ellie is exposing herself to you. again, it's not like most people in town don't know, but still, with you feels different. ellie generally shows her nature because she hates suppressing it and also to prove people wrong, to be a nuisance in their eyes. it's not because she's 100% at ease with the situation, it's more of a retaliation thing.

with you, it's a whole new ellie. she's not fed up, she doesn't need to be defensive and she shows her true colours because it's the only thing that comes natural, not to piss someone off.

while you take small sips you keep telling yourself now it's your turn to be vulnerable. or at least to initiate something. before it's too late and you regret and your lightheaded feeling wears off, you turn to ellie. not only that, your knees bump into each other and ellie shivers. your face get nearer and nearer, gaze fixed on ellie.

for the first time you see those puppy eyes open wide, taken aback and visibly surprised by how bold you are being. but it's when you take her hands into yours that an inaudible gasp leaves her chest and lands warm on your face. you both squirm and get restless the more your skin prolongs the contact.

"let's dance"

[esouliie]

– TEARS ON THE GRAND PIANO

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader (MINI SERIES)

– synopsis: moving on from the only person you’ve ever loved is proving to be hard… so hard that hiring an escort seems to be the only way forward.

– warnings: poor dialogue lmao but my excuse is that it was written a while ago, offensive language, word count: 3K

– Prologue | Chapter 1

13TH NOVEMBER 2022

You were pretty sure your face was melting off with the way your cheeks burned against your hands. Your jaw ached tremendously from clenching, each muscle protesting against the pressure of the emotions welling up inside you.

The room felt like a pressure cooker, and the silence was the ever-tightening lid that threatened to explode at any moment.

The weight of awaiting unspoken words hung in the air, creating a palpable discomfort that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. Seconds stretched into minutes, each passing moment intensifying the unease.

Your mind raced, replaying the events that led to this standoff… of sorts.

Joining the Avengers four years ago wasn't anything you would’ve expected for yourself. Raised as a normal teenage girl in a quiet suburban household, with a normal life planned ahead of you, you never imagined that your destiny would lead you to the extraordinary world of superheroes.

Tony Stark, the genius behind the Iron Man suit, approached you with an offer that would change your life forever. He explained that the world needed new heroes, and your unique abilities were the missing piece they had been searching for. After some hesitation and contemplation, you decided to accept the invitation to join the team.

And here you are - now a grown woman - sitting across from the same Tony Stark. His jaw was slack, eyes wide to an almost inhuman degree. For a man who had faced gods, aliens, and powerful foes, the revelation seemed to have caught even the Iron Man off guard.

To put it shortly, he was stunned. Such an uncharacteristic reaction from the philanthropist.

“What did you just say?” He finally managed to answer.

This was supposed to be easy; simple enough to not stress you even more, but you should've known that nothing comes easy with this man.

“I think you heard me, Tony.”

“Yeah, but I never thought I’d hear that… come out of your mouth.” He slaps his hand against the chair excitedly. He was both amused and bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

“I mean, everyone thought you were a virgin, with the lack of relationships over the years, but I guess not, huh?”

His laughter irritated you no doubt.

Despite being twenty-three years old, your teammates, in their misguided assumptions, were certain you were a virgin. It was a label that stuck, fuelled by your shyness about your personal life. No one ever dared to inquire about your relationship status, but subtle concerns were shared between them, creating an unspoken curiosity.

In reality, your heart harboured a secret love for someone you couldn't have – a person who existed in the realms of impossibility. It was a love that had silently grown over the years, nurtured in the shadows of silent words and unfulfilled desires.

“So, you want me to set you up with an escort?” He asks, humour still evident in his voice.

You nod, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation washing over you. Your eyes briefly met his before retreating to your fidgeting hands, the room still echoing with his laughter.

“That’s fine. But first, I need you to answer some questions.” Tony continues, his tone shifting to a more serious note.

Confusion creeps across your face as you tilt your head, thrown off course by his unexpected shift in seriousness.

“First of all, why?” He inquires, leaning back in his chair and studying your reaction.

You hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much you should reveal. "It's complicated. There was someone… but the feelings weren’t mutual, and it’s time to move on. I thought this might be a way to help me do that."

Tony raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Feelings, huh? Well, I'm all ears. Spill the beans. Who's the lucky guy?"

You sigh again, knowing that this part might complicate things. “It’s not something … I just don’t think-,” You don’t want to tell him, it feels all too frightening, “I can’t say.”

He hums lowly, observing your obviously nervous state.

“Okay. What’s your preference?”

Your confusion grows.

He sighs, “Male or female?”

He asks so simply whereas you’re caught off guard.

Your ears burn in embarrassment as the implication dawns on you. You knew this would have to be spoken about at some point, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“Uh, I t-think, female.”

Tony can't help but wear a sly grin. “So not a virgin and not into dudes. No wonder you shot Sam down.”

The mention of Sam makes you cringe, recalling your first encounter with the man who couldn’t take a hint that you were definitely not interested.

You attempt to regain your composure before warning Tony to be serious, but he interrupts your process, seemingly already moved on from your revelation.

“Anyways, what else?”

Again, you’re stumbling over how to answer but he saves you this time, deciding to lighten up on the teasing.

“I’m talking physically. What would you want her to look like? Tall, short, blonde, brunette, redhead?” His hands move drastically as if sculpting an imaginary figure in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. "Does it matter?"

“Well, yeah, escorts are usually pricey, especially the ones I use to hire so… you might as well fuck someone you’re actually attracted to.”

He was right. It would cost a fortune for a high-end escort. Given your public image and the constant scrutiny you faced, you realise that anyone you brought into your private space would need to be discreet and accustomed to the world of celebrities. There would be NDAs to sign, and security measures to consider, and the whole process seemed more complex than you had initially thought.

“Assuming you want an escort for that?”

His words interrupt your thinking. He had a knack for understanding things without needing them explicitly stated. It was both a blessing and a curse. The fact that he guessed your intention to hire an escort without you saying it out loud was both impressive and mildly embarrassing.

Your blush deepens.

“I’d prefer her to be taller than me, brunette, green eyes.”

His grin slips slightly, realisation sinking in. Your preference seemed to match the appearance of a certain witch.

“Simple enough.”

“And also, old- actually, she can be my age, but I’d prefer an older woman.” You add, unknowingly unravelling another layer of mystery to your request.

Tony hums.

“Preferably not American, maybe like European, or…”

It couldn’t get any better for the man. The quick panic in your eyes, let alone the twitch in your lip, helped finalise his theory.

But ever the optimistic, there’s no way he’d caught that slip.

There are a lot of tall, brunette Europeans in America.

Surely.

He rests his head in his hand, feigning false nonchalance, “Sounds familiar.”

Oh.

Wanda Maximoff arrived in America with a heavy heart and a troubled past. The scars of Sokovia and the loss of her brother, Pietro, weighed on her soul, but she was determined to forge a new life. She was haunted by the memories of experimentation and the pain that had been inflicted upon her throughout her life. The scars, both physical and emotional, served as a constant reminder of the darkness she had endured. Yet, as she stepped onto American soil, she felt a glimmer of hope.

Hope for a new life.

Almost every day, she participated in training sessions to harness and control her formidable powers. Vision, an android and fellow Avenger, became her mentor and confidant. Together, they worked tirelessly to channel her abilities, turning the chaos into controlled strength.

Her dark eyeliner that used to coat her waterline thinned with each passing day. Her green eyes, now a striking contrast against her porcelain skin, began to reflect not only her pain but also the resilience that lay within. Her long, brunette locks remained a constant, gracefully cascading down her back.

The Sokovian Accords had torn her away from your life, but Steve Rogers, the man with an unyielding sense of justice, had set her free. She had been detained, left to rot in chains and a power-disabling device. But now, she lived in the shadows, on the run from those who sought to control her immense power.

The next time you saw her was on the battlefield in Wakanda. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the Wakandan landscape, and you found yourself standing amidst the chaos of the battlefield. The air was charged with tension, tangible electricity that mirrored the clash between the forces before you. Amid the chaos, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, moving with purpose and grace.

Wanda. The woman you once knew as a fiery teenager, full of anger and confusion, had transformed into someone entirely new. Her crimson hair, cut to a length that framed her face, caught the fading sunlight as she weaved through the battlefield.

The old Wanda you knew was gone and yet she was still as beautiful. Still the same Wanda you were in love with.

Even so, she was your best friend.

The age difference never seemed to matter; you clicked in a way that transcended space and time. To you, her friendship was everything. And yet, as life unfolded, so did the unexpected twist of emotions that left you utterly devoted to her.

But your love was unrequited. She fell for Vision. The robot born from the mind stone, the same stone that granted Wanda her powers. They clicked instantly.

Unrequited love can be a heavy burden, and you carried it silently, painfully. From a distance, you observed the deep connection between Wanda and Vision strum stronger. Your heart ached, knowing that you never stood a chance against the android who had become the love of her life.

Her space and time.

And then came Westview. It hit you like a tidal wave of sorrow. Wanda, now known as The Scarlet Witch, had created an alternate reality in an attempt to find solace, to build a life where she could have everything she ever wanted. It was a bittersweet revelation - she had her family, but it was a fragile illusion. Life had decided to take everything good from this woman and that included her husband and twin boys.

Learning about their fates left you shattered. It had been a while since you cried over Wanda. You felt so much for the witch. To you, she deserved the universe but for all the time you knew her, she had only experienced pain.

It was a heartbreaking paradox - the one who could rewrite reality couldn't escape her own suffering.

Tony moves closer to you, breaking you out of your trance.

“You could always look for her.” His hand hovers over yours, unsure.

“No, I couldn’t,” You whisper gently, afraid your voice will betray you, “I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t say anything as he moves back to his original position, battling with himself whether to accept your defeat or encourage you to fight for love.

“Okay. I'll look into it.” He answers shortly.

“Thank you, Tony.”

You really do appreciate his help. He has always been there for you, a fun yet steady presence in your life. He had guided you through tough times in your career and offered a shoulder to cry on when needed. In many ways, he was more than just a friend – he was like an older brother.

“It won’t take long for me to find your woman. So make sure you’re ready for the best night of your life.” He concludes by flicking his tongue grossly between his pointer and middle finger.

But he’ll always be a pig.

--

15TH DECEMBER 2022

A few weeks later, you found yourself in the penthouse suite of one of Tony’s infamous drunk hotel purchases- The Ritz. He had managed to find an escort that fit your preferences within the same night, but due to conflicting schedules and multiple anxiety attacks, you pushed the date back as much as you could.

Tony helped you understand all the unspoken rules of high-end escort services. For high-risk clients, such as yourself, it’s imperative that a fake name is given.

Monica Dunn.

Tony said you didn’t look like a Monica but you didn’t care. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t an escort’s job to care what name their clients use.

Afterwards, NDAs are usually signed, despite the use of a false identity, just in case the escort discovered who the clients were, and sold the information to the press.

This has happened before. You giggle, remembering the scandalous article about Tony and his rendezvous with an escort that gladly divulged a particular fetish of his.

Five minutes before the agreed meeting time, the front desk rings, informing you that your guest had checked in and was on her way up.

You pace around the front door, nursing on the almost empty glass of wine. Soft music playing through the TV just outside the large conversation pit, a sunken enclave surrounded by plush, velvety sofas and cushions in hues of deep royal blue and silver. The pit was nestled in the centre of the room, creating a cosy and intimate atmosphere.

Perfect for tonight.

The suite’s architecture was utterly beautiful. The walls were adorned with gilded frames housing masterpieces of renowned artists, and the floors were covered in an expanse of soft, ivory carpet that allowed you to sink your feet into its embrace. A grand chandelier, dripping with crystal prisms, hung majestically above the conversation pit, casting a warm and gentle glow over the entire space.

Residing in front of the large glass windows, a grand piano stood proudly, its polished surface reflecting the glimmering chandelier above. Your eyes were drawn to it, a majestic instrument that seemed to beckon you with its silent invitation. Unable to resist its allure, you gracefully make your way towards it. The rich scent of aged wood and varnish envelopes you. Fingers delicately glide over the smooth keys, feeling the cool touch beneath.

You sit upon the plush bench, posture adjusting with the grace of a seasoned pianist. You begin to play, letting your fingers dance effortlessly across the keys. The room fills with an enchanting melody, each note resonating through the space. Lost in the music, you start to hum along, your voice blending seamlessly with the piano's tune.

The same tune you wrote for Wanda all those years ago. It's been a while since you’ve played this song. You’re not even sure why you’re playing it now.

The keys dip. A sombre note rings true. The music swirls into a reflection of your emotions, a silent expression of the feelings you had kept hidden for so long and how they remained unbound.

“That’s beautiful.” A voice broke through the harmony, pulling you out of your musical reverie.

Startled, you turn to find her standing there, in all her glory.

And time ceases to exist.

She stands tall. The red hair that once defined her is now a rich, deep brown, still its usual thickness and tied into a high ponytail that exudes a casual confidence. Bangs frame her sculpted face as a gloss stains her lips. She looks different. You can't help but marvel at the maturity that now graces her features. There's a certain grace to the lines that weren't there before, a subtle testimony to the experiences that have shaped her.

The room becomes a backdrop to the flood of memories rushing through your mind. The air is thick with festering emotions as you look up at her, trying to process the unexpected reunion. It's been years since you last saw her, and the wounds of her departure still linger.

You don’t say anything but she does. She steps closer, eyes flickering over your stilled hands on the instrument.

She laughs, and familiarity strikes as she recalls the tune you were playing. "Is that the song you were writing that night?"

The question hangs in the air, summoning memories of the last time you shared your dreams and melodies, the things that mean most to you. She was your muse and you had bared your soul to her in your music. And now you’re trapped between the resonating notes of the piano and the echoes of your past.

For a moment, you struggle to maintain composure. Indifference projected as a firm shield, a sort of defence against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"It's just a tune." You reply nonchalantly, trying to downplay the significance of the moment.

With that, her gaze intensifies, a shadow of uncertainty rushes across her features.

You can't help but feel a sense of curiosity mixed with a tinge of unease.

All this time that has passed and now she decides to come find you.

You don’t understand why she’s here.

She goes to speak but you interrupt her. “What are you doing here, Wanda?”

She’s lost for words, not even fully sure herself.

“I came to see you.”

Wanda sees the strain on your face. She didn’t have to read your mind to know you were in turmoil. Without much thought, she gently cradles your face in her hands, thumbs tracing delicately over your lips, and you lean into the touch, momentarily forgetting everything that’s occurred over the last few years.

This doesn’t last long. The warmth of her touch turns cold, and you stand up abruptly, the piano bench skirting backwards loudly. Anger simmers beneath the surface.

“Don’t touch me.”

You don’t expect it to hurt as you see the pain your words cause her.  

“Seriously, Wanda. Why are you here?” You continue, voice thick with led.

Wanda sighs, unwilling to lie to you anymore. “Tony sent me.”

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“oh sweet, sweet, dark haired man”

A/N: what’s crazy is that this idea came to me because I was watching Iron Man 2 and when Tony Stark is drunk at his birthday party?? I also do not understand the correlation whatsoever, but here we are 🤣 and Mai Tais are no joke lol

~word count: 1k~

Summary: it’s the first night of yours and Joel’s honeymoon, and he’s had a few too many Mai Tais tonight, baby love.

Pairing | pornstar!husband Joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, established relationship, dirty talk, teasing, flirting, language, breeding kink??, Joel forgets you’re his wife in an endearing way, he also wants to pump you full of his babies, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

“Baby loooove.” He hummed into your ear, arms looped around your waist for support in his drunken stupor.

Joel had a few too many Mai Tais the first night of your honeymoon. Combined with hours laying in the sun, endless amounts of delicious food and love making with you, he was in a syrupy sweet, love sick haze.

“Let’s get you back to the room, okay baby?” You had your arm wrapped around his middle, guiding him towards the direction of your private honeymoon suite.

“Can’t feel my legs.” He giggled, burying his face into your neck, steps staggered as you guided him along, “and you smell fuckin’ delicious! Jesus fuckin’ Christ, what perfume are ya wearin’, baby love?”

“That would be the rum talking, baby.” You giggled with him, giving his waist a gentle squeeze. “It’s your favorite perfume, Joel.”

He chuckled, peppering kisses against your exposed neck, leaning further into your supportive hold around him, “Well, ain’t I the luckiest man alive. Where ya takin’ me, pretty girl?”

“To the room, baby. And then we’re gonna get you some water, okay?”

“And you’re coming with me?” He questioned softly.

“Course I am. Gonna get you nice and comfy and we’ll have a good snuggle.” You promised him.

“Oooh! A snuggle with my baby love? Well, now I’m really lucky!” He chuckled. “Man, this place is so beautiful, isn’t it?” He detached his lips from your neck and tilted his chin upwards so he could look up at the millions of stars and the gently swaying palm trees.

“It’s very beautiful, baby.” You agreed.

“Not as beautiful as you, of course. You’re like—the most beautiful person ever, so beautiful that sometimes my brain turns to absolute mush when you’re around me! Isn’t that crazy?” He said with a lopsided grin, eyes barely peeked open as he looked over at you and leaned in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.

“You wanna hear something just as crazy, baby?” You met his hazy gaze with a soft smile tugging on your lips as you reached your freehand up to brush away a few stray curls from his forehead that were obstructing his view.

“What could be crazier than that, baby love?”

“Sometimes my brain turns to mush when you’re around me too, Joel.”

He gasped in surprise, not believing the words leaving your mouth, “whaaat? No way! That is crazy!” He hiccuped, “‘scuse me baby love, m’ a bit drunk right now. Too many Mai Tais.” He rasped.

“It’s okay, baby. That’s why I’m here. Getting you back to the room safely.” You reassured him.

He nodded, crouching down a little so he could bury his face into your neck once more despite the faint strain in his lower back that he was feeling at this angle. “Baby love, I may be super drunk right now, but imma tell you somethin’, ‘kay?”

“I’m all ears, baby.” You mused.

“One day, and I’m hopin’ it’s soon, m’gonna ask you to be my wife and we’re gonna have lots and lots of babies—if that’s what you want, of course. Hopefully my swimmers are healthy n’such but if not, then there's other options. Hey—why are you gigglin’ over there?” He pouted his lips against your skin, tilting his head back so he could look over at you.

“Baby, my sweet, sweet, dark haired man, I am your wife! We’re on our honeymoon right now, Joel.” You softly reminded him as you held back your giggles as best as you could.

“WHAT? Oh my goodness—you’re my wife? Oh, goodness! I really am that lucky, huh? Wait, lemme see the ring! I better have picked out a good one or so help me—”

“Joel!” You giggled, “those Mai Tais really got to you, huh? You had the ring custom made, baby.” You stopped walking, letting him grab your left hand in his big warm palm and ogle at the dainty rock on your ring finger.

His eyes were dazzling like the stars glimmering above as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed his lips to your fingers and one to the ring. “Very, very, beautiful.” He hummed. “I have good taste, huh?”

“You do, baby. You have wonderful taste and I’m so lucky.” You preened.

“No, no, I am the lucky one here, baby. And tomorrow mornin’ when I wake up hungover, imma treat you sooo fuckin’ well. Breakfast in bed, mine between your thighs, of course. And then I’m gonna feed you my cock—”

You shushed him with a sweet kiss to his lips, “I love you so much, my sweet dark haired man.”

“Mmm.” He hummed against your lips, pulling you in closer, “I love you more, my baby love. Can I pump you full of my babies tomorrow mornin’, please?”

“You’re such a horndog, Mr. Miller.” You giggled against his lips, kissing him deeper, “You can pump me full of your babies, okay? And maybe we’ll get lucky and one of them will stick?”

“Jus’ how you like me, Mrs. Miller. Oh, and one of ‘em will stick. I believe in my trusty little swimmers.” He slowly pulled back from the kiss so he could look at you.

You took all of him in from his messy hair, to his beautiful brown eyes, the flush to his neck and the apples of his cheeks, his swollen lips from your kisses, and his glistening tanned chest peeking out through the opening of his shirt.

“You’re so beautiful, Joel.” You breathed out, and you could feel tears begin to prick in the corner of your eyes.

He sniffled, eyes equally as glassy, and he brought his warm palms to rest along your cheeks, and gently pressed his forehead against yours, “my baby love, if you don’t quit that sweet talkin’, I’m gonna turn into a puddle of waterworks.” He playfully warned you.

“Okay, Mr. drunk sappy pants, let’s get you home.” You pecked his lips one last time before wrapping your arm back around his waist so he could lean into you.

“Lead the way, baby love.” He whispers soft and sweet, drunk on Mai Tais and your love.

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[mxstly-melancholy]

can i request a william afton x reader where they watch a porno together, and then like try to re-create it??? (if that makes any sense)

Idk why that popped into my head lol i just thought it would happen on a night in with afton :)

-🌌

I changed this up a little bit 🌌 anon! I hope you don’t mind <3

William Afton X Afab Reader

Warnings: Porn, Thigh riding, breeding, lots of pet names, sub/dom undertones if you look hard enough.

(this is horrendous I’m sorry I wrote it at 6 am with no sleep)

You laid in bed bored out of your mind. William wasn’t going to be home anytime soon, you thought, so you decided to pull up some porn videos on your phone. You couldn’t help but do that every time you were home alone and bored. It was a good way to get your mind off the burdens of life.

You click on a video, it shows an older guy wearing a suit (how ironic) and a younger woman. He guides her to straddle his thigh, letting her ride it. He comments about how naughty and what a whore she is.

You felt tingles through your body, wishing so badly William would let you do this. The video kept playing and your panties got wetter and wetter as the time passed. This man has made her cum all over his thigh multiple times before pounding her, such a lucky woman.

Your thighs were pressed together as you sat in bed, you felt pretty dumb making yourself all hot and bothered because William shouldn’t be home for another hour.

That is what you thought, because as the girl in the video was cumming loudly, the bedroom door opened. You practically throw your phone across the bed, trying desperately to mute it.

“I’m home early, dear… I see you’ve kept yourself occupied.” William laughed at your embarrassed face, putting his tie down on the dresser.

After you successfully locked your phone you hid your face in your hands.

“Welcome home..” you mumble into your hands.

William giggles at you and sits down next to you on the bed, loosening his belt.

“What was it that had you so entranced that you didn’t hear me come home?” He asked.

You sigh, “I don’t think you’d find it that interesting. It’s just boring… vanilla.. stuff.” You kind of lie.

William turns to you, “Well, show me.” He holds his hand out waiting for you to hand your phone over.

You shook with nervousness, but complied.

William unlocked your phone and put the video on, skipping through parts here and there. You could see his erection grow in his pants by the minute.

After a few minutes that seemed to last forever, he hands your phone back and looks at you with a mischievous smile.

You put your phone on the nightstand and as you turned around he was in your face, kissing you passionately. Shocked, but not complaining, you lean into him.

“Well, come on then.” He pats his thigh.

Your eyes widen with excitement, and quickly jump onto him. His hands came to your hips and started moving you immediately. You felt bad neglecting his obvious twitching cock in his pants, but before you could make out a word, your mouth fell open with a soft moan.

“That’s perfect… This is what I love to come home to. My perfect little slut just waiting to be used and ruined.” He whispers out. His words make your hips twitch and your pussy throb. Your panties were completely soaked and all you wanted to do was rip off your pajama shorts.

“So good for me.. my perfect girl.” He moves your hips faster against him, loud moans escaping your lips.

“Will..” you breathe out, holding onto his shirt collar tightly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please… I’m… so close.”

And just like that, you were shoved off for a quick moment while he unzipped his pants, looking at the obvious wet stain you had left on his thigh. Before you could even protest against being removed from his thigh you were dragged onto him and he forced your shorts and panties to the side, sliding into you quickly. You yelp, and claw at him. “F-fuck!”

His feet were grounded into the bed and his knees bent, he began to ruthlessly pound into your dripping pussy.

The moans that escaped you both were loud, long and echoed throughout the bedroom.

“W-William! Oh fuck-“

“So fuckin’ pretty for me doll- Mhhf!”

You couldn’t help it, your orgasm took over you like fire spreading, you shook and cried on him as he continued to use your hole.

“Already? Come on baby keep up!” William teases you, watching your twisted expressions as you become overstimulated. One of his hands comes up and grabs your neck gently, making you look at him.

“Is this what you wanted, hm?” He asks.

You could barely get yourself to make out words, you nod and tears fall.

“My beautiful girl… I’m gonna cum so deep in you, you want that hm?” He rambles on as his thrusts get sloppy, his orgasm nearing.

You basically go limp on him, just holding yourself up enoguh so he could continue to fuck you.

“G-god- damn-“ he grunts out as he pushes as deep as he can, cumming deep inside of you. You can feel his hot cum pouring inside of you and it causes you to shiver and moan with him.

You both fall breathlessly, holding onto each other. William giggles, “God, I needed that.”