#anon you are fucking INNOVATING!!!!!!! BREAKING NEW GROUND!!!
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i need evan to have some sort of familial like purity ring or something which barty manhandles off their first time and keeps on a chain around his neck . when evan pulls him in by it it slips back on his finger and barty laughs at him for the hypocrisy …. putting in back on in the middle of their debauchery :….
this is legitimately so hot i'm a bit aghast... absolutely. there is nothing that i can add because it's already perfect.
i have always been entranced by the idea of evan and some sort of magical chastity-belt situation. perhaps in an omegaverse context, perhaps not. either way i want barty snapping and debauching him in a hidden alcove, away from his parents and suitors. barty wants to ruin him, evan doesn't even know what that means. he hikes evan's skirts above his waist and GROANS when he sees the little leather strap keeping evan's cunt locked from him, because of course, evan has always been so good & proper. maybe barty mouths at him over the leather while evan shakes and cries and tries to squirm away, and he finishes like that, pressed against the wall, confused. yeah
#a#rose & thorn#purity ring... this one has a little kick to it!!! wow...#anon you are fucking INNOVATING!!!!!!! BREAKING NEW GROUND!!!#nsft
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Better Late Than Never
Characters: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, reunion
Request by anon: Hi there!! Just curious, would you ever make a one shot to the avengers reunion for your story pick a side?
Summary: After years apart from your dad, you come face to face with him. Will he hate you for leaving? Will he resent you even more? Or will he accept you back into his life?
sam’s wings for @star-spangled-bingo
tears of joy for @foundfamilybingo
Part One
Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.
You’re good at your job, but you’re not that good. You take after your father--working on things building big projects, and always innovating new ideas. You’re not as good as he is, but you try to do your best. Sam managed to break his wings, so you tried fixing it on your own. He gave you enough time to come up with a plan and execute it, but as soon as that time was up, he needed to move on to someone slightly better than you.
After all, you have the Captain America serum in your body, so you’re more useful out in the field than behind a welding mask. Sam needed an expert to fix his wings, and you were slightly offended that it wasn’t going to be you. All he said is that he found someone to do the job, but he never said who. Even Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were very quiet about it, but you kind of brushed it off.
“Give me another chance, okay? I think I can fix it,” you beg Sam as you follow him around the Quinjet.
“Major, you’ve done enough,” he laughs.
“My name is Y/N,” you pout.
“You’re just below Cap. You’re Major.”
“Fine, but you need to give me another chance. I have a better understanding of it now!”
“No.”
You don’t take no for an answer and head over to his wings that are on the table in the middle of the jet. You whip off the blanket that is covering them only to have him drag it back on.
“Sam!”
“I said no. I found a guy.”
“Steve!”
“Y/N, I love you, but you’re a crappy welder and an even more crappy engineer.”
“Language,” you gasp teasingly, and he rolls his eyes slightly.
“We’re approaching our destination,” Natasha calls from the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going?” you ask and bounce to the window.
“Y/N, wait--”
Steve’s warning is cut off when you reach the window. The clouds clear to reveal the new Avengers facility that your dad had built in upstate New York. Your blood runs cold and you freeze in your spot at the thought of running into him. It’s been three years since you two last saw each other--after he made no moe to contact you. The last thing you heard from him was him accusing you of picking Steve’s side because you were “fucking” him.
He’s never made any effort to call you after you left with Steve.
“Y/N, we were going to tell you, but he’s the only one who can fix this,” Steve whispers.
You hear him, but your brain doesn’t register the words that are coming out of his mouth. All you can think about was the fight that happened at the airport in Germany. When you got in line with Steve and his team, your dad gave you the coldest look you’ve ever seen. He was so angry at you for not picking his side that he didn’t care why you did it or what you believed in. All he saw was betrayal, and all you saw was hatred and disappointment.
When the fight started, he tried his best not to fight you because even though he was mad, he didn’t know if he could hurt you. Then, the unthinkable happened. Steve and Bucky were racing to the jet to get to the place where the other winter soldiers were when you stood between them and your dad. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he couldn’t let them get away.
He ended up hurting you in more ways than just physical. Physically, you only had a bruised stomach and some cuts on your face. However, emotionally, there was a gaping hole left in your chest. Your dad saw the damage he did to you and he just left without another word or a glance in your direction. He just took off, and that was the last time you ever saw him.
The months rolled by, and you thought he was going to call you, but he never did. Those months turned to years, and you lost all hope of seeing your dad. It crossed your mind that you should be the one to go after him, but he hurt you a lot more than you hurt him. You couldn’t put yourself through that embarrassment and torture of seeing how you made him disappointed by coming back.
So, you never did.
Fighting with Steve made you happy--at least, that’s what you tell yourself. In reality, it provided you with a distraction long enough to keep thoughts of your dad out of your mind. Then, when the distraction subsided, Steve had already found another case to be on. It’s been a few years, and you’ve been everything related to misery. You miss him so much, but he clearly doesn’t miss you. So, seeing his new Avengers facility brought all those unwanted feelings back to the surface--the ones you tried so hard burying.
“You know, you could have told me,” you sigh and look away from the window.
“I didn’t know how.”
Steve thought about calling Tony plenty of times just to kick his ass into being with you, but he always thought twice about it. You were at a point in your life where you were almost at the peak of getting over it, so he couldn’t possibly let you bring all those feelings back into the light. You were just so sad and you cried almost every night for a long time because all you needed was your dad. He couldn’t give you the comfort you needed, and because there was a small possibility that Tony would reject you once again, he just couldn’t make that call. It breaks his heart to see you so sad.
When Sam’s wings broke, and no one in his group could fix them, he knew that it was time to go see Tony once again. There was no way you would be staying on your own, and he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to keep you away, so you joined them without a hint of where you were going. Ever since the big fight happened, they’ve all been looking at you like you’re going to explode at any given moment. They’ve been hovering to catch you despite you telling them that you’re okay.
But you’re not okay.
How can you just worry everyone like that when there is no fixing it? There is nothing they can do, so why bother them with it in the first place? Everything you’ve ever mashed down inside you started to inflate the minute the Quinjet landed. As soon as the doors opened, you became frozen where you stood. Natasha and Sam left the bird first with his wings in hand, leaving you, Steve, and Wanda left inside.
“I can take away your fear if you want me to,” Wanda whispers.
“No, it’s okay,” you whisper back. “Go on, I’ll be there in a minute.”
All you see is pity on her face, but she leaves your side nonetheless.
“Are you sure you can do this? You don’t have to go in there,” Steve supports.
“I do. He left, not me. I shouldn’t be scared to walk in there, he should be scared that I’m here. Does he know I’m coming?”
“No, I didn’t tell him. I was afraid he would say no to fixing Sam’s wings. Listen, he sounded pretty miserable on the phone. I think he’ll be happy to see you.”
“He was so mad at me,” you remember your last conversation that actually mattered, “like he couldn’t fathom the thought that I would pick your side over his. I just did what I thought was right—I still think that. He always taught me to stand up for what I believe in, and I did just that. I’m just scared he’ll hate me all over again. I don’t think I’ll survive that again.”
“Then stay in here. We’ll be in and out. I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” you sigh sadly.
You look down at the ground just as two tears left your eyes. Steve looks at you, and he just cups your chin with two fingers and lifts your head so you’re staring at him. He wipes the tears away with his thumbs as gently as he can.
“Don’t be. You’re not ready. That’s okay. I have to go inside now, but I promise we will be back before you know it.”
He leans down and kisses you tenderly, keeping it short. The feel of his lips on yours help keep you grounded, and you hold onto that comfort even when he pulls away from you. You keep your eyes closed for a few more minutes as if it would shield you from the fear. If you can’t see your dad’s place, then you’re not really there. However, just as soon as you open them, you miss the comfort from Steve immediately.
Why should you be the one who fears this place? It should be your dad that fears you coming here. He was the one who broke things off with you, so why do you feel like it’s your fault? You’re his daughter, and he is supposed to treat you as such. You’re not one of his friends that pissed him off--he doesn’t get to cut you out of his life like you mean nothing. You’re his fucking daughter; he is supposed to love you no matter what. It’s what a parent does for their children. Yeah, they are supposed to make you mad and get on your nerves, but you don’t get to cut them out of your life like that.
Why should you just stand here while everyone else gets to be inside? Maybe seeing your dad’s new place is giving you the courage you never had. It’s giving you a sense of what’s right and wrong in this situation. Fuck this, you’re not going to wait out here like some scared little girl afraid she is going to get grounded by her dad. You’re an adult, so he can’t punish you anymore--not like this.
You leave the Quinjet and head inside the place, impressed how it turned out. Your dad is an arrogant ass sometimes, but he sure doesn’t know how to build a beautiful building. Jarvis is no longer with your dad, so he had a new system put in place: Friday. The only thing different about her is that she has an Irish accent while Jarvis had a British one. Since your face is known on every server that your dad has, Friday doesn’t announce your presence. Jarvis did that with strangers, and you think that it’s the same thing with Friday.
This place is huge on the inside as much as it is on the outside, but you don’t have any trouble going where you need to go. The main room is close to the entrance of the place, so just as soon as you enter, you hear everyone’s voice come from the room. Despite being angry and pissed at your dad for treating you this way, there is something inside of you--no matter how small--that tells you he is going to hate you when he sees you.
You freeze right before you can turn the corner. The doors are open, so you can hear everything clearly, but you’re completely out of sight. Will he stare at you with disgust and disappointment? Will he yell? Throw you out? Tell you that he never wants to see you again?
“Thanks for doing this, Tony,” Steve says as Sam hands over his wings to the billionaire.
“First time you called in, what, years, and this is what you asked me?” Tony says and glances at Steve.
He noticed immediately that you weren't in the room.
“Is it safe to come home yet?”
“No.”
“Then, yes, it’s what I asked you to do.”
“Where is she?” your dad asks as he inspects the wings.
“Do you care?”
“Do I care? Of course I fucking care, Rogers. How can you ask that?” your dad hisses.
“You haven’t called in, what, years?” Steve throws that comment back in your dad’s face.
“Is she at least here?”
“I’m not going to answer that. What needs to be done is fixing these wings so we can be on our way.”
Tony looks at everyone’s faces and knows immediately what they are saying. You are here, probably on the Quinjet that just flew in, and there is a reason why you’re not coming in. He really fucked up big time. All Tony has ever done for the past few years is regret yelling at you in the first place. All he wants now is his daughter, and you can’t even come inside.
“I’m right here,” you say and reveal yourself.
Hearing your dad ask those questions pushed the doubt to the back of your mind and brought back the courage. Every single person turned to look at you, but you’re only looking at your dad. He seems frozen where he stands, unable to do anything but just look at you. You’re really here no thanks to him. He grips Sam’s wings tightly in his hands, wincing when one of the parts dig into his palm. Feeling that pain brings him back to reality.
He sets the wings on the table right in front of him before marching over to you. You honestly think he is going to yell at you or do something mean, but instead, he just brings you into a tight hug. Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and you find yourself sinking into his body.
“I missed you so fucing much,” your dad says emotionally.
“I’m so sorry,” you cry into his neck.
He pulls away and makes sure you’re staring into his eyes when he speaks.
“No, you don’t get to be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or made you feel like what you did was wrong. I’m the one who fucked up. You’re my daughter, and I shouldn’t have ever let you go.”
He brings you back into a hug, and you squeeze him tightly to remind yourself that this is really happening. You look at Steve from over your dad’s shoulder, and he smiles proudly because this is the moment he has been waiting for. This is the moment that should have happened years ago. Well, better late than never is what everyone always says.
You and your dad have grown separately, but it’s time you grow together. You’ve lost precious years without him, and you’re not going to waste another over something stupid like last time.
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These back to back posts of Sophie and Natalie are serving me: model and rich girl sitting in the front row of the fashion show suddenly very intrigued AU
god anon… your MIND
“Loras. No offense to your flavor of the month, but if I miss any part of this year’s Martell line for this, you’ll find out how sharp my stilettos are in the most painful way possible,” Margaery murmured sharply, as she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair.
Her brother, annoyingly, just laughed and made himself comfortable next to her, “Trust me. Renly’s line is crazy amazing; you’re going to be glad to be here on the ground floor.”
Margaery simply lifted an eyebrow to say we’ll see about that. She also wasn’t entirely certain where her brother got away with saying that having a prime time catwalk during fashion week was “the ground floor” but considering her brother’s new beau hadn’t ever been featured at any fashion week in Westeros or Essos before, she’d allow it.
She would know; she’d been to all of them. Clothing, style, designing - all of it, had been her most passionate interest for as long as she could remember. Passionate enough that despite the fact that she did have a trustfund large enough that insured she’d never have to work a day in her life, she’d actively pursued since high school a career as a stylist.
Currently for the nation’s biggest fashion magazine, thank you very much.
As the show started she, begrudgingly, would admit to herself that it wasn’t bad. Actually, it more than wasn’t bad, and she could see how so much buzz had gathered so quickly for Baratheon’s designs.
Her attention was caught, but it wasn’t until the very last round of models came out that made her sit up straight, her heart thudding loudly, while a zing of interest slid through her; the response was almost immediate.
Because - gods - those legs and those collarbones and that hair. That red, red hair, with eyes so blue they seemed to pierce her as they ran over her.
Margaery couldn’t remember the first fashion show she’d been to; she couldn’t remember all of the models she’d styled over the years. She considered herself unaffected by models.
“She’s smiling,” she whispered to herself even though she heard Loras grunt back, and she tilted her head, watching closely.
She knew better than most that smiling while showing off someone’s designs was such a No that it should have turned her completely off from the woman. But it wasn’t really - it was her eyes that had that emotion, really. Her lips curled just slightly, barely, but the eyes were bright and alive and happy, her cheeks blushing, and it wasn’t the makeup, either.
She was magnetic, really, and Margaery had no idea the last time she’d felt so hooked, but she was.
“Who is she?” she demanded, eyes lingering on the woman as long as they could before she was off the catwalk, turning to Loras.
“Umm, Sara? No,” Loras rubbed at his chin for a moment in thought, “Sansa! She was a last minute replacement for one of Renly’s other models.” He chuckled under his breath, “She apparently tripped during the preshow walk; Renly was terrified she’d ruin the show.”
Ruin the show? Ruin?
“She’s fantastic,” she asserted, an excitement thrumming through her, already ready for her to be back out.
Her entire body felt alive through the rest of the show, feeling hungry for that woman. The woman who seemed to be a size or so bigger than the majority of runway models, who had that undercurrent of personality and attitude and something just under the surface that was incredible irresistible to her.
It was rule number one, really, to be a runway model but not have more personality than the clothes you were wearing. Sansa was breaking it in spades, seemingly without realizing, and Margaery couldn’t be more interested.
//
Sansa hadn’t expected to be actually on the runway this fashion week; after all, she’d been in some small shows and broken into some decent shoots up North, but nothing in the North was nearly close to the magnitude of fashion in the south. Let alone King’s Landing fashion week.
She’d never have been able to guess that she’d get a last minute call to fill in on a main stage on one of the biggest nights of the week, either. But she supposed that was what happened when one of the regular models partied so hard that she was apparently still drunk and her measurements fit Sansa’s nearly to the T.
“And you didn’t even trip,” she allowed herself a smile, this sheer thrumming through her unstoppable. She’d had a lot of doubts about moving here, about leaving her family and her friends and her life, to pursue this dream.
“Don’t get used to it,” she very nearly jumped when one of the other women, Myranda - who had been giving Sansa dirty looks the whole night - sneered, before dropping a folded piece of paper onto the vanity in front of Sansa, “This is supposed to make it’s way back to you. Apparently someone important out there during the show had some… choice commentary about you.”
She felt her cheeks burn even as she cut her eyes up at Myranda - she might be new in King’s Landing, but other women in this industry trying to tear each other down happened everywhere - and merely took the paper without giving a verbal response.
Her hands shook a bit, though, when she opened it, glad that Myranda had already walked away. She knew she’d made some minor mistakes… she just hadn’t realized they were noticeable enough for one of the crowd members to feel the need to point them out to her.
Sansa -
Oh, good. They’d disliked her enough to find out her name before telling her off.
Your measurements were a bit off, you smiled, I heard you tripped during the pre-show, and you outshone the clothes you were wearing; truly, all of the makings of a designers nightmare.
Her stomach sank.
I loved every second of it.
… what?
You have something about you that pulled me in, and I would be willing to bet that it would captivate others, too. So, I’m taking that bet.
I’m off to the Martell show so I couldn’t stay for a chat in person - my number’s on the back. How do you feel about editorial modeling?
Margaery Tyrell, Luxe Magazine
—
and thus begins a whirlwind romance of Sansa becoming a model at Luxe (still a bit in shock because Margaery Tyrell, aka one of the most innovative and hot - in more ways than one - stylists at one of if not the biggest fashion mag personally wants her as a regular fixture there), Margaery thirsting after Sansa even more after seeing the dichotomy of Sansa being able to be cold as ice to some others who are cutthroat as fuck but at her core being the enchanting woman with the always alert eyes.
#sansaery#sansa stark#margaery tyrell#i should be writing my actual story but instead i was distracted and i am not sorry
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