have a turtle from about 2 months ago

oh yeah then there's this absolute creature

Me First ~ Ginny Weasley

Pairing: Ginny Weasley x soft dom!fem!reader

Summary: Idek how to summarize this one. It’s gay, and more sub! Ginny (which I don’t see often)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, mutual masturbation, oral

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

“Touch me, please,” Ginny moaned, as my hand slid up her inner thigh. Her hands were tied behind her back due to her lack of control. I told her to be a good girl and keep her hands to herself, but when I kissed her they immediately flew up to my waist.

I decided to be nice and slide my hand up to her soaking pussy, causing her to moan as I traced a circle around her clit.

“Is it good when I touch you here, baby?” I asked, watching her squirm under my light touch.

She squirmed and nodded, whining as I finally gave her the attention she wanted.

“You look so beautiful, all tied up like this,” I said softly, kissing down her neck as my hand continued working her clit. Her head tilted back to give me more access as I sucked lightly at the sweet spot above her collarbone.

She let out a soft moan as my finger slowly slipped inside her, curling slightly to hit just the right spot. I went at a slow pace just to tease her.

“Please,” she whined, trying to buck her hips into my hand. I smirked and pulled my hand away, laughing as she let out pleas to keep my hand there.

“You know what, why don’t you show me how you like to be touched?” I said, sitting in the chair that was placed at the foot of the bed. I undid the spell that was holding her hands behind her back, and propped my feet up on the bed.

“Wh-what?” she asked, her face turning red.

“Why so shy now? Hmm? Show me how you like to be touched,” I said.

Slowly she spread her legs and leaned back on the pillows, sucking her fingers into her mouth before bringing them down to her pretty pussy. Her breathing increased as she drew slow circles over her clit, her other hand reaching up to play with her hardened nipples.

I stood up from my chair, startling her a bit as I removed my clothing.

“Did I tell you that you could stop?” I asked sternly. She shook her head no and focused her attention back on herself.

I sat back down and spread my legs, dipping my hand to my own pussy to circle over my now throbbing clit. Her head dropped back as she inserted a finger into herself, moving her hips as she fucked herself on her hand. I watched intently as her hips bucked up, stimulating her clit against the palm of her hand.

“Can I cum?” she breathed out, her breathing quickening as she got closer.

“Nope, I want to make you cum, so stop touching yourself,” I said, watching her face scrunch up as she took away her hands.

“Please, I want to cum so bad,” she whined when she realized I wasn’t about to come over and finish her immediately.

“Not until I cum baby, come over here and help me out,” I smirked, finally getting up on the bed with her. She immediately crawled over to me, situating herself between my legs as I laid back on the pillows. Her hands pushed my legs apart and she eagerly lapped at the juices leaking from my pussy. I moaned loudly as she expertly ate my pussy, using just the right amount of pressure to have me grinding against her face.

“Such a good girl for me, always so good at eating pussy, baby,” I praised, my hand fisting her hair and pushing her into me. She looked up at me as she sucked my clit into her mouth, circling it with her tongue before releasing it. She moaned slightly as I pulled her hair, sending the vibrations to just the right spot.

“You taste so good,” she moaned, catching her breath for a second before diving back in. One hand moved up to play with my breasts, toying with my hard nipples as her tongue continued lapping at me. My hips bucked up as my orgasm built up, getting closer and closer as her tongue flicked over my throbbing clit.

“Fuck baby, I’m close...just like that,” I moaned, arching my back to press into her. She moaned again as I bucked against her, pushing me over the edge and causing me to cry out as I finally reached my orgasm. She continued lapping up my juices, letting me ride out my orgasm against her face.

“Fuck, you’re ridiculously good at that...,” I panted, catching my breath as I lightly pushed her away from my over-stimulated clit,”...now come sit on my face.”

She blushed but quickly crawled up and straddled my face, lowering her pussy down and gasping when my tongue swiped through her, collecting some of her juices. Her hips moved up as I sucked her clit into my mouth, but my hands quickly pulled her back down as they wrapped around her legs.

Her moans filled the room as she started grinding against my face, her clit bumping into my nose as I tongue-fucked her, tasting as much of her as I possibly could. Because I cut off her orgasm earlier, it wasn’t long before she was a moaning mess above me, begging me to let her cum.

“Cum for me baby, you’ve earned it,” I said before attaching myself to her clit, focusing all of my attention on making her feel as good as possible. She tried to lift away from me as her orgasm flowed over her, but my arms held her in place, letting her grind against my face as she finally got what she wanted.

“Holy shit, I’m cumming, fuck,” she whined as my tongue sucked and circled her clit. Once she rode out her orgasm, I let go of her legs and let her collapse next to me on the bed, wrapping my arm around her as she curled into me. A comfortable silence falling over the room that was now filled with our heavy breaths rather than our whines and moans.

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

Tag list: @a-malfoy @amityyyjade @amourtentiaa @dracos-apple01 @georgeswh0re @lim-bus @partr1dge @weasleywhore07 @willowestelle

with love, your secret admirer

“ YOU MUST HAVE A HONEYCOMB FOR A HEART, HOW ELSE COULD A MAN BE THIS SWEET “

pairing. hitoshi shinso x gn! reader

wc. 1.5k

summary. in which you finally confront him about the letters left on your desk (fluffvember 4/15)

an. the way i’m just kinda,,, ignoring my schedule. also ngl this one wasn’t really proofread just because i can’t tell if i like it (is this even good?? idek 😭 )

    + taglist is in the comments

    It started two weeks ago. It was the third week of a new semester, and letters had begun appearing on your desk. Every other day, a sealed envelope would be waiting for you when you made it to class. There was never a name, only sweet words written with love and care.

    It confused you, of course, who would be writing letters like this? Especially for you. You didn’t think you were all that special, but apparently, this person thought differently.

    You desperately wanted to know who it was. You felt like you would burst if you didn’t find out soon, especially after receiving a total of five letters so far.

    But, things were a bit complicated. This semester, your class welcomed a new member. Hitoshi Shinso was moved from the general studies class up to class 1-A.

    Although he claimed he wasn’t there to make any friends, he seemed to integrate very well. It wasn’t hard for Kaminari to convince him to hang around with your group of friends.

    There was something about him that just drew you in. For one, he was undeniably handsome. It made your heart pound whenever you looked at him. He was witty and smart, and it was clear he cared for you all. That was the beginning of your silly little crush.

    But you realized it might be a little far fetched to believe your feelings would be reciprocated. Which was why you decided you would try and find out who was sending you these letters. It seemed like this person genuinely liked you. They noticed small things about you that you hadn’t even realized.

    Ashido and Kanimari thought it was the most romantic thing they had ever seen. They were even a bit jealous that they had never received any. They were the ones that convinced you to try and find out who was sending them.

    They claimed that if you got there early enough, you could catch your secret admirer in the act. You weren’t opposed to the idea, so on the fourth Monday of your new semester, you got up early to set your plan into action.

    You were beyond groggy that morning, having to wake up at a seemingly ungodly hour. As soon as the doors to the school opened, you snuck up to your classroom. You slid into your seat, planning on waiting for them to arrive, letter in hand.

    Apparently, that wasn’t happening, though, because you were jolted awake by someone shaking your shoulder. Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with your pink friend.

    “(y/n)! You fell asleep! That ruined the whole plan!” She whined, motioning towards the letter sitting on your desk.

    You turned your attention to the note and your already filled classroom. Well, that was no help; they had dropped the letter right under your nose. A pout tugged on your features as a sigh fell past your lips. Of course, you had fallen back asleep.

    “Well, open it!” She squealed, catching the attention of Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero. The three boys made their way to surround you, each with curious eyes.

    Your fingers slowly tore the flap up and pulled the piece of notebook paper out. You chewed at your lip as you began to take in the words.

    Dear (y/n),

    I wanted to thank you. Thank you for letting me into your life. Thank you for letting me be your friend. Your kindness means the world to me, and there aren’t enough words to convey how much I adore you.

    You’re on my mind more often than not. It’s getting kind of frustrating if I’m being honest. You’re the sun, and I don’t think you know how brightly you shine.

    I want you to know how appreciated you are. How I’m proud of you. How everything is going to be okay. You tear yourself down more than you should. You don’t deserve that.

    I hope these letters are showing you how special you are. That’s really what I’m trying to get across. I’m not sure how to tell you in person because every time I try you give me that smile, and my tongue feels heavy,

    You’re trying to catch me now, right? That’s what I heard, at least. A part of me wants you to find out, it would be easier, wouldn’t it? I’d finally be able to see if I meant anything to you. But I’m also scared. I don’t want to freak you out or anything.

    Remember to eat three meals a day and drink your water. Try your best to go to sleep on time and not stress yourself out. I hope you have an amazing week.

    With love,

    Your secret admirer

    Your heart was pounding in your chest. The feeling you got after you read the letters was incomparable. They sounded so genuine, and no one had ever talked to you like that before.

    “Whoa... It seems like they really like you, (y/n),” Kirishima sighed with a dazed look on his face.

    You nodded in agreement while heat crept up your cheeks, “I just wish I knew who it was...”

    The day went on like normal, classes and training. In the evening, everyone gathered around the dorm tables to eat dinner. And you went through your classes the next day as well, patiently waiting for your next letter.

    That night at dinner, you grabbed your plate and seated yourself between Sero and Shinso. The latter had a few papers spread in front of him with furrowed eyebrows. It looked to be the English homework you were assigned earlier.

    “Hey, do you need help?” You questioned, trying to look over the purple-haired boy’s shoulder.

    As quick as he could, he shielded his papers while his eyes grew to the size of saucers. “No!”

    You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at the boy’s flushed cheeks, “Um, okay? Sorry.”

    He began shaking his head, “Oh, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Shinso still hadn’t moved his hands away from the paper, eyes never settling on you. “I’m okay. I don’t need help.”

    “Okay, well, if you do, you can ask me!” You sent the boy a smile before turning back to your food. What interested you though, was the peak of handwriting you had seen. The loops and curves seemed identical to the ones in the notes that had been placed on your desk.

    When Shinso eventually excused himself to go to his room, you followed after him. Thinking that maybe, maybe, he could be the one sending you these messages. You were more hopeful than you wanted to be, but you didn’t want to jump to a wrong conclusion.

    You knocked on the door to his dorm with a hesitant hand, chewing at your bottom lip in a fit of nerves.

    The boy pulled the door open, appearing in front of you wearing sweats and a t-shirt. His eyes widened from their previously lidded state. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before stepping to the side, allowing you entry to his room.

    The two of you stood in front of each other in his room for a few silent moments until you finally spoke, “Is it you?”

    You heard him curse under his breath, eyes leaving your face to stare at his slippers. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, chuckling and nodding. “I guess you caught me, huh.”

    The breath you had been taking in hitched in your throat. You felt it tighten, and there was a violent fluttering in your stomach. The words that tried to come out of your mouth died on their way out.

    “Look, I know we haven’t known each other for long. It’s kind of pathetic to send you letters, huh. I get it though, you don’t like me back,” He paused to look at you before continuing. “That’s alright, but I meant what I said in them. I hope you know that.”

    You were at a loss for words. Shinso had been the one saying all those nice things about you? Looking back on it now, it seemed to be obvious. They had only started when he joined your class, and he always seemed to get nervous in your presence.

    A breathy laugh fell from your lips as you took a step towards him, “Really? They were really from you?”

    The boy in front of you nodded, taking a step towards you as well.

    You gathered up all the courage you could before looking him in the face and asking, “Can I kiss you?”

    Shinso tried to keep a calm facade, but the darkening of his blush wasn’t very convincing. He nodded while reaching his hand out to take your face in his palm. You made eye contact for a few seconds before he let his lips ghost against yours.

    All his written words flashed in your memory causing you to pull him closer. The barely-there kiss was broken when he pressed his forehead to yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

    “I think you are so, so amazing, (y/n).”

    You looked at him with adoration filled eyes and the softest smile as you replied.

    “I think you are so, so amazing too, Shinso.”

    thank you for reading :) have a good day!

Drunken Kisses

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Alochal use, swears like twice

Request: @justsomeficsyo hey my love, I hope you're doing well with lockdown! Could I request number 46 with Draco? If not use it for any other character (if you're sick of writing for him), I always love ur writing! ❤️❤️

46- you’re drunk at this festival and dancing on the table and when you eventually fell i caught you

A/n: not gonna cap, kinda feel like this is shit but oh well. Idek what to say, I'm pretty sure I'm in a slump rn, my last two fics have been actual garbage. I hope you guys like it better than I do.

    The quidditch world cup was something you had been wanting to go to for ages. You went to one when you were fourteen but it didn’t end well and since then all you had been wanting to do was go to one where you wouldn’t be almost burnt alive. You loved the sport, you played it for your own school and made a decent beater, since you graduated and stopped playing your thirst for the game grew. You finally decided after your second year of college you would go. You rounded up a bunch of your friends and apparated to the stadium. It had been built the year before, brand new everything, you were thrilled. 

    You and your friends all have the same intention when going to the game and that was to watch quidditch and get completely smashed. You were going into your third year of college the next year which meant you would have to buckle down and work so this was about it for the year. You were dressed in red and black clothes that showed too much, one of your favorite teams, the Buglrians was back in the cup thanks to their far too attractive seeker; Viktor Krum. You and four others piled into your tent where Gabby and Annabeth had already started drinking. You laughed at them claiming you weren’t going to start till five and they booed mixing up a margarita with too much vodka. 

    By the time the match started, you were two drinks in and Gabby was nearly blackout drunk. Annabeth had already passed out. You tried to wake her up before sighing and tucking the covers up to her chin. You made your way through the crowds of people, you and the three girls you were with all should have been wearing more than you were but none of you gave areally cared. Alex had the word ‘Krum’ painted across her stomach and you and Ruby both had black and red handprints covering your legs and arms. You were all covered in glitter and glow sticks which were enchanted to circle around your frame. 

Some Holyhead Harpie fans booed as you walked past and you flipped them off while Gabby shouted, “You’re just mad you're gonna lose!” 

You got to the stands pushing your way through a few people and climbing way too many stairs until you were in the center of the piled seats, You stood at the railing as Alex passed you a beer. You made small talk until the announcer came on introducing the teams. You all screamed like crazy when the Bulgarians flew into the field, Krum did a handstand on his broom whipping past and Ruby mumbled, “God he’s hot” Next to you. 

The game was amazing. You were getting progressively louder as it went on. 40 points Harpy’s, 20 Bulgaria, then 60 Harpy’s, 70 Bulgaria. Until finally, as the game progressed Krum came dive-bombing out of the sky streaking after a flash of gold. He caught it moments before pulling upwards holding it in his fist. You were elated. 

The four of you headed back towards your tent, Gabby was giggling about something you couldn’t make sense of as when suddenly a guy around your age popped out of his tent holding a pack of beers.

    “Blaise?” Ruby asked in disbelief. The name rung a distant bell.

    He turned towards you, “Holy shit Ruby?” 

    She laughed walking over to him, you followed a bit confused, your mind hazy with alcohol. 

    They talked for a second before she turned to introduce you. You smiled and shook his hand and suddenly it struck you, “Oh! You’re the guy she had a major crush on in high school.” 

    Your eyes widened as you slapped your hand over your mouth Alex burst out laughing. 

    “Sorry.” You mumbled, “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

    The man brushed it off with a wave of his hand, “You guys should head over with me, a bunch of us have a bonfire going and I think someone brought a keg.” 

    “Then why are you carrying a six-pack of beer?” Alex asked.

    “Because their stuff probably tastes like shit.” He shrugged, “Are you guys coming?” 

    Ruby glanced back at you and you shrugged, “Why not?” 

   

    You followed Blaise about a quarter-mile from your tent to where a massive fire was raging. There must have been thirty college kids in the area, filling picnic tables and dancing on the grass. Someone had brought two kegs actually and it was apparent that a good chunk of them were hammered. It was dead silent until you stepped into a small glowing ring and suddenly the music was so loud you had to shout to hear anything.

    The smell of burning wood, weed, and beer was thick as yelling and laughter could be heard above the pop song which blared overhead. You laughed turning to see that Alex was already making her way towards one of the kegs. You followed her getting booed by a group of people sitting at a picnic table who were adorned in green and yellow. 

    “You’re the ones who lost!” Alex shouted from over your shoulder handing you a blue cup. Blaise was right, the beer tasted like shit.

    Draco watched as Blaise returned with four girls in tow. He sighed, rolling his eyes, not at all surprised by the new additions. All four were in black and red and were smiling widely. He snickered watching as one stumbled over nothing before finding her way to a picnic table. When his eyes landed on you they widened, your hair was messy and swiped back from your face, your cheeks flushed the shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination and the t-shirt was hugging your curves. You were stunning. His mouth went dry as his gaze followed you toward a keg, you laughed as one of your friends said something he couldn’t make out. Your smile was mesmerizing. 

    Draco was broken from his trance when Blaise coupled with one of the girls from before sat in front of him blocking his view.

    “Draco, you remember Ruby right?” he spoke gesturing towards the girl. 

    “Totally.” He lied, “Good to see you.” he craned his neck to the side attempting to catch a glimpse of you again. 

    Blaise raised an eyebrow, “Watcha looking for?” he asked, turning around too.

    “Nothing.” Draco shrugged, finding you sitting on the grass with the girl from before. 

    “See a hot girl?” Ruby joked, smirking following his gaze, “That’s y/n by the way.” 

    Draco felt his cheeks go hot, “I’m sorry who’s y/n?”

    “Who do you think?” She laughed, “The one you’re staring at, I’m not blind.” 

    “Which one is y/n again?” Blaise questioned, “Redhead or y/h/c?”

“Y/h/c.” Ruby responded, “She’s single you know.” she wiggled her eyebrows, “Very single.”

“Well, that’s convenient.” Baise mussed, “So is Draco” 

He rolled his eyes at their smirks and took a beer from the pack his friend had brought. His eyes wandered back to you as Ruby and Blaise’s conversation left without him. You were laying on your back now laughing hysterically as your friend tried to drink lying down, spilling beer down her front. You lifted out your wand to clean it before leaning over and whispering something into her ear. You waved it twice at the fire and suddenly it flickered deep black and red flames.  

“Bulgaria!” You and your friend shouted as Ruby turned around laughing. A few words from Harpy fans had the fire turned back to its original color. 

“Y/n! Alex!” Ruby called beckoning you towards them with a hand. 

You stumbled to your feet, white tennis shoes smudged with grass, “What’s up?” You giggled walking around the table and seating yourself next to Draco, Alex slumped on your other side.  

“Not much we were-” She was cut off when the song suddenly changed.

You squealed, leaping to your feet and hitting your bare knees on the hardwood, you didn’t seem to notice. You snatched Alex’s hand dragging her to her feet as well. You blurted out lyrics off-key as you climbed onto the table, glow sticks hovering around you as you swayed your hips to the music. You twirled on the tips of your shoes bringing your beer to your lips as a microphone 

Cheers and whistles from nearby people only encouraged you as you continued to drunkenly dance on the table “My loneliness is killing me, I must confess I still believe.” You drew out each word. Feet tapping along with the beat as Alex jumps up with you grabbing your hands. You sang together as Ruby howled with laughter beneath you. 

Your feet caught suddenly and you tumbled backward with scream you knocked directly into Draco’s’s chest knocking him from his seat and onto the grass with a thump. Draco groaned, opening his eyes and feeling his cheeks flush. You were laying on top of him, your hands holding you up as your face hovered just over his. 

Your eyes were wide as you traced the man’s features. His shimmering blond hair, deep red cheeks, sharp jawline, and icy blue eyes. Your heart sped in your chest as your gaze flicked down to his pink lips which were parted slightly. 

“You’re so pretty.” You mumbled and Draco felt his breath leave his lungs. 

“I should be saying that to you.” He countered shakily.

You giggled, staring for a moment too long, “I should probably stand up.” 

He nodded slowly, “Yeah.”

You got to your feet, Draco doing the same, both of you were bright red as you turned back to the group, Blaise winked at him and he rolled his eyes. 

The conversation continued and you slowly began to inch towards Draco craving his warmth, he smelt of expensive college and mint, it was intoxicating. The blonde almost jumped when he felt you lean onto him, your hand resting on his thigh. You laid your head onto his shoulder and Draco found himself resisting the urge to lean back into you. 

As the party began to dwindle Ruby decided that you should probably head back to your tent when Alex passed out on the table. 

“Where’s Gabby?” She asked glancing around to see her sitting with a group of girls you didn’t recognize. You pouted as she attempted to haul you to your feet.

“Y/n, we have to go.” She mumbled as you clung to Draco’s arm. He looked stunned.

“No!” You whined, “I don’t want to go!”

“God, you’re like a toddler when your drunk.” She huffed pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Finally, you got to your feet, stumbling and falling almost immediately. Draco stood to help you when he offered you a hand you took it but when he pulled you toward him you used that momentum to smash yourself onto his lips. 

You stood on your toes ramming your tongue into his mouth your eyes closed as you pulled him towards you. Draco kissed you back for just a second before pushing you away. 

Ruby stared at the scene her jaw dropped. 

“Why’d you pull away?” You pouted up at him, your hands fiddling with his shirt. 

“Because you are crazy drunk.” He responded hardly able to make out the sentence. 

“Fine. I'll kiss you when I’m not drunk.” You declared turning to Ruby, “Do you have a pen?” 

She shook her head.

You groaned snatching your wand from your pocket and shouting, “Accio pen!” about a dozen rushed at you. You snatched one turning to Draco and grabbing his hand, pulling up his shirt. You began to write on his forearm, the cap of the pen lodged between your lips. 

You pulled away, your phone number scrawled onto his skin, “You better call me.” You mumbled turning on your heels to follow your friends. 

Ruby snorted “You are going to regret so much of what just happened tomorrow morning.” 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

@chloe-geoghegan1

Masterlist

i'd Love to hear any thoughts u have on mr. upshur!!! and u should totally draw him again your art is so cool...👀 (im lisette-draws btw hfhfgjf this is my main blog)

Hello!!!  Thanks for the complement, here’s mistah upshur with some dogs for you!

And I totally did not insert my own dog in there...

I don’t really have any special differing opinions on him from most of the fandom consensus.  I feel like we all kinda came to the conclusion that he is Lovable Bastard, and I love that for us, we out here winninggg

I guess I’ll ramble under the cut doe:

So I guess idek where to begin, but what REALLY drew me in and made me love the character was definitely the snarky, dry humor and attitude that is blatantly apparent from his notes.  AGAIN, nothing anyone hasn’t talked about already, but I just love how charismatic you can tell he is just from writing on pieces of paper, Red Barrels really hit it out of the park with that.  BIG on using humor to cope.  Like. The man had just been brutally tortured and is up in here roasting Trager in his note about him, and then the only thing he writes about his death is a fuckin two line joke. I Love Him So Much. Definitely passionate about what he does (or did ; ;) and I’d guess is pretty hard headed in terms of just getting something done no matter what once he sets his mind to it, not taking kindly to people telling him what to do or trying to stop him.  Can be pretty spontaneous in his actions, given he literally follows up on Waylon’s email at the drop of a hat and just rolls up to MM with literally no plan at all, just his camera.  This bitch CRAZY.  but that brings me to my other thoughts about him:

I’ve always thought like, he probably doesn’t really have any significant relationships in his life, or if there are, they’re few and far between.  Considering his job, he probably worked around the clock driving to different locations and interviewing and writing and etc etc and just didn’t find a lot of time for any personal stuff.  What made me start thinking that is the fact that, when compared to Waylon’s notes, Miles doesn’t mention anyone.  It may just be that Red Barrels didn’t really think it was important, since for Waylon his existing relationships with his wife and sons is character defining, but idk.  Waylon thinks, no, expects that he’s going to die.  So he writes to people that he knows will miss him, will come looking for him.  When that reality sinks in for Miles? No one.  It’s “whoever finds my body” and that honestly breaks my heart.  Fictional video game men be out here breaking my HEART.  Considering he was probably road tripping around for work and happened to be in the area when he got the email, it’s probably safe to say he had no one waiting up on him.  idk man. i cry.

I also feel like, from what we also see in his notes, that he has a temper, and responds to negative situations as such.  From all the scathing comments he makes in response to his situation in MM, it just made me kind of think that, although you can’t really blame the guy.  It makes me think that his trauma from the situation would probably manifest in the form of anger at what he went through, at the people involved, at himself even.  But still, as we also see in his notes, he’s genuinely sympathetic towards the patients who suffered under Murkoff, even wishing Chris peace when he gets killed.  So yeah, bastard with a heart of gold as we’ve all come to agree on!

Anyway it’s 2:30 AM and I am just sleepily rambling about mr Miles Upshur because I Love Him.  This is all an incoherent mess but whateva.  Thanks for the ask, and happy Miles posting!

Dawn

Heyyy! I'm breaking my DA hiatus to submit this brief moderately lengthed ok maybe it got a little out of hand fluff idek anymore anyway it’s for @dapolyshippingday!

Takes place as sort of a postlude in the Your Arms Feel Like Home universe. Cullen/Amell/Jowan, 4500 words. Explicit. AO3 Link Here.

Enjoy!

There was always something otherworldly about seeing the dawn through the skylight windows. Solona was plenty used to seeing those telltale streaks of color from the other end of the day, usually following hours of binge drinking or manic painting.

Waking up to them was much, much rarer.

It took a minute or two to shake the sleep from dream clouded eyes, transfixed as she was on whatever weird liminal feeling this bizarrely early morning instilled in her. Piece by piece, memories of last night returned.

For once, she had agreed to keep the apartment booze-free for a full twenty-four hours. Jowan had insisted. She'd protested thoroughly, of course. "Come on, it's my birthday!" she'd begged through pleading, sparkling eyes, but he'd remained firm.

"Cullen? Back me up here!"

He'd merely shrugged, carefully adjusting the glasses her flailing had knocked askew. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

His flat response drew a rare chuckle from Jowan, who up til that point had been nervously smoothing the front of his blue and black striped button up with unsteady hands.

This was new territory for all of them.

"I swear, love, you'll be happy to have remained sober for this," Jowan promised. The quickly masked wince on his face further highlighted the unprecedented nature of the situation. An unfamiliar familiarity. A pet name she hadn't heard in months, one that felt as foreign now to her ears as it seemed to taste on his lips.

Cullen cleared his throat and broke the uncomfortable silence. "Shall we be off then? Wouldn't want to be late."

"Says you," Solona grumbled. She grabbed her signature leather jacket and bent down to finish lacing up her boots. "Neither of you have said where you're taking me."

"That's what surprises are," Jowan said, affectionately ruffling her hair.

There it was again. A telltale stiffness to a familiar motion, a measure of distance to something that used to flow as naturally as moving water.

The cab ride was silent, but not entirely uncomfortable. Cullen had passed the driver a crumpled slip of paper that presumably contained the address, muttering an awkward thank you in broken Orlesian before clambering into the back seat.

Jowan sat to her right, plaid green and brown scarf clashing horribly as usual with his shirt, shaggy hair unkempt alongside what was at this point a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He had a way of looking thoroughly uncomfortable in almost every setting imaginable, but the warmth of his hand on her thigh told her he was trying his best today.

Cullen sat at her left, curly blonde hair styled back neatly with gel. He'd chosen a maroon sport coat to wear over a black polo with a golden lion stitched onto the pocket. Tucked into dark grey jeans, naturally. Solona doubted the man had ever owned a nice pair of slacks in his life. She'd seen his wardrobe. It was one set of dress blues, two officer uniforms, a single, raggedy set of khakis, and fifteen identical black shirts next to exactly three pairs of jeans: blue, grey, and black, all cut the exact same way.

Maybe she'd get him a suit tailored for his birthday next year.

His boot knocked softly into hers, and when she looked up he was smiling softly at her with something strangely close to adoration, and now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Everything alright?” Jowan murmured.

There was an odd sort of energy in the cab between the three of them. It was as though no one wanted to be the first to speak above a whisper, like the slightest increase in volume would shatter these small and tentative beginnings slowly unfolding across their laps. There would be no first kiss tonight; no, it was far too late for that. There had been a myriad of kisses over the years, a plethora of just plain fucking with the occasional lovemaking sprinkled in, all punctuated by explosive fights and violent nights alone. She had words for all of those things, but this? She didn’t know what to call this. There was nothing in her vocabulary that described the kind of energy that surrounded them.

“I think so,” she said, the words barely a whisper by the time they made it to her lips.

“Alors...” the cab driver began tentatively. “Lequel de vous est l’amant?”

Solona’s head shot up, the suspended stillness shattered by his gravelly voice as the words sank in. “Um,” she began. “I don’t...what...” She felt her cheeks turn pink and she elbowed Jowan in the ribs for confirmation. “Hey, did that mean what I think it did?” she whispered.

Jowan’s face was beet red. “He...ah...yes, probably,” he stammered. “He wants to know which of us is...you know. The um.” He lowered his voice to an even quieter whisper. “The lover.”

A nervous giggle shot out from her lips. “Oh. Oh! Right. Yep. Hah, I um.” She scrambled for both of their hands. She didn’t even have to look at Cullen to see the flush of crimson on his cheeks.

Maker’s balls, how old was she, twelve?

The driver, to his credit, seemed to pick up the implication. “Ahh,” he said, eyebrows waggling. “Ménage à trois, eh?“

Jowan sank further into his seat. “Maker,” he muttered.

“Yes?” she squeaked.

“Ah, très bien,” he nodded sagely as he pulled the cab into a cramped parking space. “Bonne chance!”

“Maker’s breath,” she heard Cullen mutter. He clambered out of the cab the second the driver parked it. Jowan quickly followed suit, offering her a hand to help her out. He refused to meet her eyes.

“So...” she began, fighting the laugh toying at the edge of her breath. “Who’s supposed to be paying him?”

“Oh!” Cullen dug through his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of bills he then promptly thrust in through the open window. “Um. Yes. Right. Thank you.”

The cab driver laughed. “Merci!” he said. He winked, rolled the window up, and drove off, leaving the three of them standing, rather flustered, at the curb.

“Well,” Solona said finally. “Alright then, where the fuck are we--”

She trailed off as she looked around. In front of her stood the spiraling marble columns of the Musée de Montsimmard, carefully chiseled marble steps rising elegantly to a massive glass entryway where crowds of well dressed people milled about. A smile broke out on Jowan’s face. “Well,” he said finally. “We’re here.”

She’d been to the museum plenty of times already, of course. Between research for her coursework and the occasional casual tour, she was intimately familiar with its layout. Lately, however, embroiled as she was in her writing, she hadn’t been in quite some time, and the familiar delicate wire structures gracing the front pavilion felt like a warm welcome home.

“I hope you like the exhibit we’ve come to see,” Cullen said. She was suddenly aware of him standing behind her, warmth radiating across her back as he gently rested his chin on her shoulder. She glanced tentatively at Jowan, bracing herself for his reaction, but for once, he seemed oddly content, not even a whisper of a grimace on his features. He simply extended his hand again, smile never leaving his face.

“It is quite striking,” he said, eyes crinkling with mischief as he laced his fingers with hers.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What the fuck have you two been up to?”

“Patience, my dear,” Cullen whispered into her ear, sending a warm prickle straight down her spine. He enveloped her other hand with his, a much rougher grip than Jowan’s but no less gentle, and the two of them tugged her forward.

The foyer awaited her, the familiar cream colored walls, plaques, paintings, and sculptures welcoming her in with soft familiarity. She paused for a moment to take it all in, drinking in the comfortable, muted stillness with an almost desperate sort of need. She could come here every day and never tire of it.

Cullen and Jowan, however, had other ideas. “Come on, this isn’t what we came here for,” Jowan said with a grin.

Solona pouted but relented as they tugged her toward the reception counter. Jowan strode forward, and Solona took a moment to appreciate the uncharacteristic amount of confidence he had gained since they’d moved to Orlais. She spoke the language, yes; she had to, for her degree, obviously, but Jowan was the only one of the three of them who was comfortably, conversationally fluent so far.

It was nice, seeing him like this. He’d never been particularly confident in social situations back in Kirkwall. Neither of them had been, really; she was always just better at hiding it behind humor and dismissive indifference, but it was hard to relax in a city filled with the ghosts of so many of her worst memories. Montsimmard was a fresh start for them all, and Jowan was beginning to thrive in the freedom of it.

She and Cullen approached the counter after him. The woman behind the desk, a willowy, freckled, mousey-haired woman with soft brown eyes and an even softer voice stared at her for a moment, wide eyed. “Madam Amell!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “We are so excited to have you here with us today! Please, follow me!”

Solona felt her eyebrows climb her forehead. “Okay, seriously you two, what the fuck is going on?” she said finally.

Cullen said nothing, simply nodding his head after the woman with a faint smile playing on his lips. Solona pouted but relented.

The main exhibition hall branched off to several smaller rooms. They followed the receptionist into one of them, and what Solona saw knocked the air straight from her lungs.

“Thank you all for joining us today!” a guide announced from the podium. “As many of you know, the Musée de Montsimmard rose from the ashes of what was once, for centuries, the largest Circle of Magi in Orlais.We are forever grateful for the patronages that have allowed this incredible undertaking, and continue to allow it to this day.

“For centuries, our city has shined a beacon for anyone with magic shimmering in their veins. In recent decades we have stood firm against countless onslaughts against the personal freedoms of those once caged within these walls. Today, we are showcasing works by a remarkable woman, an artist of incredible talent who has overcome so many of the very challenges this city has striven to eliminate since the Circles were first dissolved. This exhibition is a tribute to mages everywhere: the celebrated, the hated, the many survivors of untold tragedy, and the memories of those who never saw the sun rise on their liberation.”

“Jowan?” Solona felt tears in the corners of her eyes. “Cullen? What is this?”

Cullen said nothing and simply wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Jowan stood at her other side and slipped an arm snugly around her waist.

“Everyone, in honor of the survivors of the horrific Tranquil Solution, in honor of mages everywhere, we present: Liberté!”

“That’s...I...”

In the center of the exhibit was a painting, her painting. A crumbling tower rose in the background. A girl in the foreground stood in rags, a girl with dark curly hair, a girl that represented everything she wished she could have had in her childhood, stood in the forefront, one arm outstretched overhead, triumphantly shooting a beam of light to the heavens as the sun peeked over a horizon of brilliant blues and purples and twinkling stars.

The guide was now reading a brief biography of the artist, of her, but his voice faded into static as she stood in shocked silence. She could recall every moment of painting that image with sparkling clarity, every sleepless night and lyrium binge and emptied bottle of liquor swept to the wayside in manic obsession.

The finishing touches had been done without electricity, by candlelight and mage light, in despairing silence while the streets of Kirkwall burned.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand, we left all of that behind, I thought it was lost forever, how did you--how did either of you--”

“The rest of the precinct helped,” Cullen said wryly. “We went and salvaged it all from your old apartment after the dust settled. It came over with me when I finally packed up and met the two of you for good, and the rest of it was all him.” He gestured at Jowan, who was beaming.

“I may have pulled some strings with some colleagues here,” he admitted. “I was hesitant at first, and certainly not very hopeful, but the director here was, ah, quite enthusiastic about the collection once she saw it and heard your story.”

Solona sniffled and leaned her weight into their arms. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Would you like us to give you some space?” Jowan asked softly.

She shook her head. “No,” she sniffed. “No. Don’t go.”

The rest of the evening passed in a daze. At some point, the curator approached her and had a conversation that must have been coherent, given the business card that went home with her after the fact, but she would have been lying if she said she remembered what sorts of words were exchanged.

The cab ride home was an equally hazy affair, one with much less decorum than the trip there. She watched the street lights tick by as she lay in Jowan’s arms, feet propped up in Cullen’s lap, taking solace in the weighty feeling of his hands on her calves. It was strange, this feeling settling into her limbs. It was intoxicatingly euphoric, whatever this was. It felt like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day, like putting on a familiar, well-worn sweater that smells faintly of someone you love--

The soft edges slammed into focus.

She sat up immediately. “Stop the cab,” she said abruptly. “Stop the cab, I have to get out, I have to--”

The cab driver shrugged and pulled over, and she scrambled out over Jowan’s lap, almost tripping directly into the pavement. The world suddenly felt too small, the walls were closing in and her chest was gripped by an alarmingly familiar ache and an equally intense, crippling fear.

This was wrong. This was wrong, because there was no way, no way on this earth this was the correct version of her life.

She felt her knees hit the sidewalk and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t open them. If she did, she would be standing in Kirkwall again, and she wasn’t sure if that was something she could bear the weight of right now.

“Solona.”

Jowan’s voice tugged at the edges of her consciousness. She shook her head. She felt her chest heaving with sobs. Distantly, in the back of her mind, she was aware she was making a scene, but she didn’t know how to hold any of it in. She never had.

“Solona, what’s wrong?” Cullen’s voice this time, floating over her, filled with a familiar confusion.

“I don’t want to wake up,” she gasped through the splitting ache in her chest. “I don’t want to go back. I can’t.”

“We don’t have to, love.” Jowan wrapped her hands in his and helped her stand as Cullen supported her from behind. “This is home now.”

Solona opened her eyes. She could see the street lamps reflecting on Jowan’s cheeks, also wet with tears as he brushed her cheek with his fingers. “This is home,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

“He’s right,” Cullen murmured behind her. She turned and met his gaze, the air slowly returning to her lungs in tiny increments. “Last I checked, we’re all here to stay.”

She nodded slowly, incredulously, looking around at the shops and traffic lights, and at the handful of onlookers glancing over in apparent concern. The air smelled like lavender and magnolia and nothing at all like Kirkwall’s murky blend of industrial smoke and stale saltwater. The signs were all in delicate Orlesian script with the occasional translation beneath here and there. Somewhere to her right, a woman unlocked her car with a dismissive wave of her hand and not a single other person seemed to take notice.

“This is home,” she murmured.

Jowan wiped the tears from her face as Cullen planted a kiss on her forehead. “Home,” Jowan repeated.

“Which, incidentally, is only three blocks away, if you both fancy some fresh air,” Cullen pointed out. “At least, I hope I’m reading that sign correctly.”

The laugh exploded from Solona’s chest, so suddenly she almost didn’t recognize the sound. She turned and planted a kiss square on his lips, then whirled around and kissed Jowan in turn. Reality was shifting again, as it so often did for her, but for the first time in her life, it didn’t feel so bad. 

Her shoes were off before she even made it to the front door. Cullen helped her out of her jacket as her fingers made hasty work of the buttons on Jowan’s shirt. Jowan’s lips met hers, softly at first, with only the slightest hesitation, as Cullen slipped her blouse off of her shoulders. The sounds of two more pairs of shoes hitting the floor rang behind her as she leaned into the kiss. She scraped her teeth across Jowan’s lip and drew a weak moan from his throat that sent shivers of anticipation shooting through her core.

She felt Cullen’s stubble graze her shoulder as he planted a string of hot kisses down her shoulder. Her bra came undone, and she flung it clumsily away from her without a single care for where it landed. She almost tripped over her pants as the three of them stumbled to the bedroom, and she cursed quietly as she kicked them away.

Cullen’s hands trailed down to her hips, then back up to her chest, his touch rough and warm as Jowan buried his fingers in her hair. Cullen rolled a nipple between his fingers and she gasped into Jowan’s mouth, every nerve on overdrive as her body craved more.

Her body crashed onto the mattress. Cullen clambered on the bed with her, cradling her head in his lap as Jowan pulled away and positioned himself between her legs. It was Cullen’s turn to kiss her now, fervent and passionate. He smelled like mint and aftershave and for a moment all she could focus on was the way his tongue felt against hers.

Jowan parted her gently with his fingertips. Solona shuddered and gasped when he closed his lips around her clit, warmth blooming between her thighs with the sweet ache of arousal.

Cullen swirled his fingers around her nipples as he cupped her breasts with both hands, pinching with just enough pressure to send lightning through her spine. She reached up, blindly, to touch him, any part of him, but he pulled his hands away and closed them over hers. “Not yet,” he whispered into her mouth. “This is for you right now.”

She could only moan in assent, eyes squeezed shut as Jowan’s tongue between her legs sent her spiraling higher and higher.

“There we go,” Cullen murmured, gently stroking her hair. He shifted his legs slightly as he leaned in to kiss her again.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. The static began to build. “Please.”

“Let go,” Cullen whispered.

And she did. She hit her peak and cried out, body trembling under wave after wave of euphoric bliss as Jowan gently brought her back to earth. She slumped back in Cullen’s lap, letting her fingers trail up his torso as he ran his fingers through her curls.

Jowan kissed his way up to her navel, cradling her trembling body with his arms as he planted delicate kisses along her stomach, trailing upward until he gently captured one of her nipples between his teeth.

Cullen slipped out from his position beneath her head and took Jowan’s place at the foot of the bed as she writhed under Jowan’s touch. “Kiss me, please,” she whispered. She could taste herself on Jowan’s lips, was drowning under his touch, losing herself in the sensations of hands and fingers and lips.

She gasped when Cullen entered her, agonizingly slowly, both hands gently grasping her by the hips as he sank into her with deliberate, measured intensity. The friction made her body sing, and she felt her hips moving almost of their own accord, begging him to move faster.

She would have asked out loud, but Jowan’s fingers trailing down her collarbone, his lips ghosting hot kisses down her ear and across her neck, had left her incapable of finding words for much of anything.

“In my mouth,” she finally managed to gasp, fingers closing around Jowan’s wrist. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Anything for you,” he whispered.

She tipped her head back and let her lips close around the tip of his length. It was his turn to shudder as she swirled her tongue around the head. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, closing them just tight enough to slowly pump him as Cullen drove into her, each stroke intentional and methodical and filling her with a need so intense it was almost painful.

Where her end was vocal and filled with explosive fireworks, Jowan’s was gentle and quiet. He instinctively moved to withdraw, but she tapped him on the thigh and shook her head ever so slightly, mentally pleading for him not to move. She needed to taste him, needed it so badly it was driving her frantic with desire. She caught his hand in hers and squeezed it, gentle and reassuring as she met his eyes a split second before he gripped back tightly, eyes closing, hips bucking into her mouth as he came.

And Maker, was he a beautiful sight when he did, the way his tousled brown hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his freckled chest heaving as he caught his breath. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he squeezed them shut, the faintest shy smile blooming across his face.

He was breathtaking, and in this moment she wondered how she had ever pushed him away. She prayed she never would again.

Cullen paused then, withdrawing from her and drawing a whine of protest from her lips. He held out a hand and pulled her gently upright into a deep kiss. “Sit on my face,” he murmured teasingly against her lips. “I want to taste you too.”

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to ask it. She’d never really speculated overmuch on the nature of their relationship with each other at this point; she’d never seen them be particularly affectionate with each other without her involved. Part of her, truthfully, feared the answer, feared what it would do to this fragile sense of tranquility she’d finally managed to grasp, but the question slipped from her love-drunk lips before she could hold it in:

“Can you kiss each other?”

Cullen’s eyebrows raised, and she heard Jowan shift on the bed behind her. Anxiety gripped her suddenly, and she nervously began to shrink into herself. “You don’t...you don’t have to,” she stammered. “It would...I think it would...”

“I think it would be nice,” Jowan finished. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“As do I,” Cullen murmured reassuringly. He took her hands in his and squeezed them, and when she looked closer, a shy flush had crept into his cheeks.

She scooted back on the bed then, equal parts reassured and transfixed as their lips met. Jowan’s kisses were always tentative at first, each brush of his lips a question softly begging for an answer. Cullen kissed back firmly, decisive and precise, one hand nestling gently along Jowan’s jawline, the other winding into Jowan’s hair.

It was one thing to kiss Jowan. It was another thing entirely to watch Jowan be kissed. Jowan melted into Cullen’s arms, gripping tightly to his back as Cullen claimed his lips, then pulled away and nipped gently at his jaw, trailing kisses down his neck. The way they moved together, hands seeking purchase, bodies aligned, filled her with a need she didn’t even know she had, and she reached between her legs and slipped two fingers into herself with a breathless moan.

She pumped in and out of herself, rubbing furiously at her clit with her thumb, letting out an audible gasp when Jowan disengaged and slowly sank to his knees, hands gripping Cullen’s hips and thighs as he slowly took Cullen’s cock in his mouth. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck, that is. Maker. You’re both so beautiful.”

“Wait,” Cullen murmured. He ran his fingers through Jowan’s hair before reaching down and gently tugging him to his feet. “I want both of you.”

Solona couldn’t keep her hands off of him as he positioned himself on the bed beneath her. Jowan knelt between Cullen’s legs, and when he looked up at her through sweat soaked hair she almost came right then.

How was he so beautiful? How were they both so beautiful?

How close had she come to losing them both?

And then Cullen’s tongue swiped her clit and her thoughts sank into blissful surrender. She fought to keep her eyes open as she rode him, shuddering when he moaned into her. Jowan’s head bobbed up and down on Cullen’s cock, one hand wrapped around the base of it, the other pressed into the mattress. Her breathing quickened as Cullen traced shapes into her slit, teasing at the tip of her clit until she felt her limbs would catch on fire.

She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. It was too much, everything was too much, and she was lost without an anchor in a wash of sensation and emotion. She searched for Jowan’s hand on the mattress. Jowan laced his fingers into hers and squeezed, and she wondered if it were possible for her heart to explode with the intensity of it all.

“Please,” she murmured again. She clung to them both, Jowan’s hand in her right, Cullen’s gripped tightly to her left, thighs aching as she climbed into the stratosphere. “Please, please, please.”

She felt Cullen shudder and jerk beneath her, moaning into her as he came, and the vibrations sent her teetering over her peak, plunging into a wave of color and sound and oh, Maker, oh fuck--

When she opened her eyes again, she was cradled between them both. She lay there for a moment in disbelieving silence, listening to them breathe on either side of her, drinking in the warmth of their chests as Cullen nuzzled her forehead with his lips and Jowan whispered soft “I love you”s into the nape of her neck. Twinkling orbs of mage light danced lazily on the ceiling.

This was home, she realized. It was home on a level that shook her to her core, in a way she’d never, ever experienced, because this was a home that would be here when the dust settled. This was a home that could exist for good, a home that came with so much more than the desperate but empty promises of a morning that had never before been guaranteed.

But morning would come.

Morning would come, and she would still be home.

Fin.

Thanks to my partner in crime @laraslandlockedblues for creating this particular AU with me, and an extra big thank you to all of my new fandom friends who gave me the space to let this muse out. I love and appreciate every single one of you.

What Could Have Been

Summary: The reader shows up at Godric's Hollow after Voldemort's attack on the Potters. 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

Word Count: 1,793

A/N: So idek what this is, more of a general reimagining of the Potters’ death scene with a reader insert. I hope yall like it!

Main Masterlist

Word had spread around quick. Quicker even more so than usual, since it was such big news. The fact that the War was over and You-Know-Who was no more was an extremely shocking turn of events that no one had expected. And at the height of his power? When everyone was so sure that no one could beat him? That this was the end of Muggles, Muggle borns and Muggle lovers? Turns out, little Harry Potter had done what even the most powerful of wizards were incapable of doing; taken down the Dark Lord himself. 

The whole of the Wizarding World rejoiced, congregations of them partying and feasting all over the country. The only worry anyone had was maybe being too obvious in their celebrations. But nothing could get them down. They were too happy, too joyful about the end of a period of immense terror. 

You didn't feel an ounce of the happiness they did. 

The minute the news of the attack on Godric's Hollow had entered your ears, you knew exactly what had happened. Of course there was no certain way of knowing, it was mere speculation on your part, but deep down, you knew. You knew. Even as you Apparated into town, as you rushed down the empty streets, only minutes after the attack, as you moved down a quieter lane to a house you knew all too well, your insides collapsed. It wasn't even a house anymore. The roof was completely blown off. The windows were smoking. There were thuds as the walls around the place fell. 

You didn't care, you dashed straight inside. Your breaths were coming hard and fast, less because of the running and more because of the sense of impending doom. You could physically feel your heart as it pounded against your chest, it's rapid pace almost hurting you. Tears were already swarming in your eyes, and just past the front door, your dread was confirmed. 

James Potter lay on the foot of the staircase, motionless, eyes wide and face hard set. As the house around him flamed, his stare was pointed straight to where you were standing, yet he looked right through you. 

Your scream was loud and piercing, your legs nearly collapsing under you as you coiled in on yourself. Your hands clawed at your cheeks at the sight of your brother, more than dead, wandless, alone. 

You stumbled to where he lay, his name tearing from your throat. Your cry remained unanswered. You were conflicted, wanting to touch him but unable to. Wanting to feel him but not being able to bear the feel of his cold skin. His glasses, askew on his face and one of the lenses broken, seemed to be the only thing even slightly resembling what it was when James was alive. 

You had to refrain yourself, this wasn't the end. Your nephew, sweet, young Harry, was somewhere in this house, either alive or dead. From the stories you'd heard, he was alive, but you couldn't be sure. The trek up the cracking stairs was harder than expected. Your body didn't seem to want to cooperate. Your mind was swarming, half grieving the death of your brother, but the other half of your brain scrambling to concentrate, to find Harry, to find Lily. 

And you did find Lily, exactly the same way you'd found James. Your screams were quieter, but just as pained, having known this was exactly what you'd find. But you were quickly distracted, for your screams were followed by another sound in the room. The sound of a baby's crying. 

Your screams had broken Harry from his quiet state of apparent shock, since the boy had now began crying. His forehead was bleeding, his cheeks tear stained as you wobbled closer to him. Your hands immediately clutched him, pulling him into your chest. There was nothing usable in the house anymore, all the blankets burned or extremely dusty, so you just walked straight out, struggling to not look down as you walked over the dead bodies of your best friend and brother. Tears were again blurring your vision, your head spinning so fast you thought you would be sick. Your mind was reeling, numb, and the sounds of Harry's much quieter whimpering had dimmed out. 

The fresh, cold November air outside the house hit you like a solid wall as you stepped out, your trembling hands tugging at your cloak until Harry was covered by it too, shielded from the chill. You heard the purring and sputtering of an all too familiar motorbike engine, knowing exactly who had stopped in front of the house. Your legs no longer operated under you. You collapsed to the snowy ground, your nephew pressed tight to your chest as you finally cried. 

Sirius' voice was far away, asking you what had happened, panicked and shaking, reminding you of just minutes earlier, the dread that had drenched you completely. Your fiancé was feeling the same thing, except your current state more or less confirmed all his worst fears.

It took all of ten minutes for him to stumble out of the house again, crying audibly, hands tugging at his hair. He kept mumbling to himself, voice cracking, struggling to move across the snow-covered lawn. As he stopped a few feet from you, he finally spoke loud enough to be audible. 

"You know who did this." His voice was breathy and trembling. "We both know."

You knew, of course. You and Sirius were the only two people besides James who knew that Peter Pettigrew was the real secret keeper. He was the only one who could have betrayed James and Lily's location. You rocked back and forth where you sat, feeling the cold wetness seep into the backs of your legs, yet unable to stand. Sirius looked like he would collapse any moment too, face stained with soot from the house and his own tears.

"I'll kill him." His voice was dangerously low, shaking in his fury. "I'll skin that rat alive." And then he was walking to the motorbike. 

It broke you out of your stupor, and you struggled to get back on your feet, Harry's tiny body still held tight in your arms. 

"N-no." You choked out, stumbling forward to grab the back of Sirius' jacket. "You c-can't. Sirius, we need to get Harry out of h-here."

"Get off." He climbed over the motorcycle, face contorted with anger and hands gripping the handlebars tight as the engine roared to life. Harry had started crying again.

"Sirius!" A scream tore out of you, loud and unexpected enough to make him freeze, and for Harry's crying to increase in both volume and intensity. "Screw Pettigrew! Look at us!" 

You shook Harry, as if to prove a point. Sirius' eyes fell on the little tear stained face, the bleeding forehead, Harry's little hiccups. His eyes, so startlingly green, so much like his mother's, but his face, his hair, even at such a young age exactly like his father's. He was so much like James. A time where this fact elicited laughs and proud strutting from your brother, only made you cry harder and shudder now that your brother was dead. Dead and motionless on the floor of his house. Died trying to protect the two people he swore to love and care for his whole life. 

"You go after him now, you won't survive." You heaved out, trying to fight through your own hiccups. Your mind could barely string the words together, the struggle of it was making you dizzy. Your legs screamed at you to collapse again, but you held yourself up. Harry was starting to slip from your grip. You heaved him up again. "No one knows he's the secret keeper. They all think it's you."

It seemed to dawn on him then, the gravity of the situation. You were right. As of now, he was the prime suspect in his best friends' murders. He couldn't act on impulse. He couldn't be angry. 

"W-we need to keep our heads." You continued, trying your hardest to shun out every thought besides your shivering nephew. Mourning would have to wait. "Okay? S-Sirius, look at me." A shaky hand grabbed his face, pulling it up to look straight at you. His eyes were swimming with tears, his anger just lying under it, trying to do what he wanted to do the most. 

"He has to pay-" 

"And he will." Your voice cracked again. You rocked Harry a little, who had began screaming at this point. "He will. But we're his godparents." You indicated the boy you were holding. "He's priority. Please, Sirius. For J-James..."

The mere sound of his name was enough to make Sirius' face scrunch up. In the dim streetlight, he looked like a broken and lost little boy as he nodded and sniffled, scooting forward on the bike. You shakily climbed behind him, trying to shush the baby in your arms as much as you could. You didn't look back at the house, even though fresh tears sprouted from your eyes at the thought of leaving your brother and best friend in there, but Harry was getting so cold that his little fingers had paled, only a few minutes away from turning blue. He needed to be indoors again, and quick. 

The loud, booming sound of an "Oi!" stopped you and Sirius as a large man hobbled to where you were, eyes falling on Rubeus Hagrid. 

"P-Professor Dumbledore's orders!" He managed to get out, shocked eyes passing over the destroyed house before landing on the lump in your arms. "He wants Harry. Professor's orders."

On instinct, your arms tightened around your nephew, Sirius' back stiffened in front of you.

"No." You flat out replied. "H-he's my nephew. No, Hagrid. I'm not letting you take him from me. No!" You screamed as Hagrid drew nearer, shocking him to a stop. 

"Dumbledore wants my nephew, he'll have to get through me." You gritted. Deep inside, a small instinct told you that you were being very disrespectful towards the man who was your biggest ally. Never in your wildest dreams would you speak against Albus Dumbledore. But your mind had gone numb. The thought of anyone taking James' son from you, the only thing that was left of your brother, made panic seat itself so deep in you, you nearly launched off the bike to attack Hagrid. 

"Go tell him what I said." You gritted out instead. "He knows where to find me."

Sirius seemed to have taken your words to be final, as the bike roared again before taking off into the sky, one of your arms clutching his waist as the other held Harry James Potter tightly to your trembling chest… 

..................

Permanent Tags:

@fluffymadamina /  @sophiaxtorres​ / @jedi-in-hogwarts / @allknowingnerd / @accio-rogers / @gruffle1 /

Sirius Black:

@1800-fight-me /

slow motion

Duncan Shepherd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Smut, Spanking, Fem!Receiving Oral, Male!Receiving Oral, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), and idk other kinky shit, be surprised! @langdonsinferno this one’s for u, it has ass biting!

Note: For some reason about halfway thru the time changes to present? lmao idek anymore, also this entire fic was built around this ask I sent in to @wroteclassicaly one night during her kink hour. I knew the moment I sent it I’d have to write about it!

You step into the elevator of the Carlyle Hotel, your Louboutin heels digging into the carpet giving you awful blisters. You barely notice the pain in your feet though, because your headache is much worse. You’d worn yourself out. You were in New York for business and had spent your day in meeting after meeting and you were beat. You hear the elevator ding as you hit the floor of the Bemelmans Bar. One of the most exclusive bars in New York, in one of the most exclusive hotels in New York. You need a drink and your boss had let you use the company card for whatever you needed.

You find yourself sitting at the counter ordering drink after drink, wasting your time away. You didn’t even notice when a handsome young man came and sat next to you. He looked at you a smiled, “Had enough to drink?” he said.

“No,” you quipped back, barely giving away your drunken state.

“Well it looks to me like you have, but, if you insist,” he smiled. “One more of-” he gestured towards you, “-whatever she’s having.” The bartender slid another drink your way.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem, but, you’re not getting another one after this one,” he chuckled. You looked up at him, admiring his sharp features. His smile was warm and inviting, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he was really good looking too. Like. Really.

“And who are you to decide that,” you said. “I have a black card of my own you know. I don’t need you to buy me drinks.”

“Duncan Shepherd,” he smiled. “And you’re not getting more drinks, because you’re coming up to my room with me.”

You laughed at his boldness. “You, Mr. Shepherd, are a very bold man. Coming in here, telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“Yeah, well people do tell me that my confidence is attractive,” he said. “How about you, miss…?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Do you agree?” He asked, taking a sip of the whiskey he’d ordered.

You looked him up and down, assessing him. “Alright.” You said. “I’ll bite. Show me to your room Mr. Shepherd.”

He smiled and held his hand out for yours, which you gladly took. “Call me Duncan.”

You didn’t know whether or not to trust this Duncan fellow, but you followed him to his room anyway. It wasn’t until he opened the door that you realized he was staying in the empire suite.

“Holy shit,” you gasped.

“Yeah, I know. Pretty nice, isn’t it?” He said.

“Nice??” you giggled, “Duncan you’re staying in the empire suite for fucks sake!”

“Oh, right, sometimes I forget,” he said as he winked at you. “That reminds me!” He gestured for you to follow him to the kitchen. “Why don’t we share some of this?” He said as he held up a bottle of Cristal.

“You’re...kidding. You just met me,” you said, mouth agape.

“Well, sometimes you just have to take chances on people,” he said, popping the cork and pouring you both a glass. “Besides, I have money to burn.”

“I think I’m starting to like you Mr. Shepherd,” you giggled, taking a sip of the champagne.

“You liked me the moment you looked at me,” he said cockily.

“Don’t get too arrogant on me,” you said, trying to sound serious but accidentally slurring your words, causing you both to erupt into laughter.

It wasn’t long before you and Duncan were in your underwear up against the wall in his bedroom, mouths roaming across eachothers bodies, sucking on eachothers necks, exchanging tongues. You noticed he had another bottle of Cristal sitting in an ice bucket on his nightstand. “Where do you get all this money from,” you asked out of breath inbetween kisses, “you a part of the mafia or something?”

Duncan laughed before going back to sucking on your neck, “No,” he captured your lips with his and bit down until he drew blood.

“Ow!”

“I’m the CEO of of the Shepherd Freedom Foundation, Y/N. I thought you’d figured that out when you heard my name,” he laughed.

You licked the blood off your lip, “guess I was too focused on your eyes,” you giggled as you got on your knees and looked up at him, pulling his boxers down so that you were met with his throbbing erection. You licked his tip, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure before taking his full length down your throat, his warm salty skin assaulting your throat with each brutal thrust.

“Shit,” “I’m gonna-” he moaned before he shot his thick load down your throat.

Duncan pushed you down onto the bed and unclasped your bra, kneading your breasts before you felt him pull off your panties and straddle himself over you, his cock already hardening again and leaking with precum, wet with your spit. You saw him glance over to his nightstand.

“What do you say we pop another bottle of champagne, huh?” He asked with a devilish smirk as he gingerly pulled a bottle of Cristal out of the ice bucket he had resting on the nightstand. He pops the cork off and watches in awe as the champagne foams up and drips down onto your exposed chest. “Duncan!” you giggle, “that’s expensive champagne!”

“Oops, my bad, let me clean that up for you,” Duncan said smugly as he brought his head down to your chest and pressed his warm tongue to your chest, lapping up the spilled champagne and rolling your nipples between his fingers. You arch into his touch, moaning as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive nipples, “Duncan, please,” you breathe into his ear.

“I’m not done yet,” Duncan chuckles, meeting your eyes with a piercing gaze as he picks the champagne bottle back up and pours more of the cool liquid over your chest, watching as it travels through the valley of your breasts up to your neck. His eyes focus on your collarbone and he licks his lips. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs as he pulls you back up on top of him and nuzzles his chin into the crook of your shoulder,  pressing his full lips onto your neck, sucking and nipping at all your sensitive spots, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

Your hands move to tangle in his soft brown hair, pulling him closer to you. You feel yourself grow wetter at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your inner thigh and you grind into him, pulling a throaty groan from his lips. Duncan pushes you back onto the bed and captures your lips with his in a passionate kiss before he starts to work his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your abdomen and up your thighs, marking you as his.

You let out a breathy gasp when you feel his hot breath fan over your leaking cunt. “You’re so ready for me baby,” Duncan whispers against your core as he looks at you, his cool blue eyes blown with lust. You let out another needy whimper, wanting him to touch you so bad.

“Duncan, please,” you breathe out, throwing your head back when he licks a stripe up your folds, tongue delving into your cunt, licking at your clit, lapping up your wetness as if it was some divine nectar, his scruff tickling at your skin.

He continued to lick and nip at your sensitive bud, working you to your climax, your moans getting louder with each flick of his skilled tongue. “Duncan I-,” you moaned as you felt him smile against your skin, “I’m close.”

With that you felt him pick up speed, his tongue delving in and out of you at a devilish pace, his mouth placing hot kisses to your cunt. You feel the coil inside you snap and your hands grab at Duncan’s hair again, holding onto him for dear life as you ride out your intense orgasm. “That’s it baby,” you hear him say. “Cum for me,” he says as he delves back in between your thighs to lap up your release before meeting your lips with his, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Breaking the kiss, Duncan flips you over so that you’re facing the wall on all fours before bringing his hand down hard on your ass. “Fuck,” you hiss at the pain, inching forward away from him.

“Oh no you don’t,” Duncan says, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards him, his leaking cock pressed up against your ass. Duncan winces, his cock aching to be inside you and grabs a handful of your ass, kneading it, before reaching across the bed where he threw his belt and grabbing a hold of the $450 strip of leather, running it through his hands before he cracked it against your ass, the expensive leather turning your skin bright red, the logo from the buckle turning into a welt on your skin. Duncan continued to smack down on your cheeks with his belt, the pain slowly turning into pleasure, yelps turning into moans. When he was finally finished he took the belt and ran it up through your folds, gathering your wetness on the leather before tossing the belt aside again.

“Does it hurt?” He asks. You nod, feeling the heat from the welts the belt left on your ass grow. “Want me to make it feel better?” You nod again and Duncan brings his tongue down on your wounds and licks them before biting down on your soft skin so hard he leaves teeth marks. You let out a harsh moan at the foreign feeling, prompting him to continue.

Duncan continued to lick at your wounds and bite your ass before he began planting kisses down your ass and went back to placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your cunt before flipping you back over so you were laying on your back again, facing him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “I need to be inside you, now,” he said, lining himself up to your entrance, his precum smearing onto your cunt as he rubbed his tip against you before pushing all the way into you so that his balls were up against your ass. “Fuck you’re so tight,” he moaned, wasting no time setting a brutal pace, fucking into you, moans and grunts falling from his lips uncontrollably as he filled you up. “Fuck you feel so good Y/N,” he grunted, his head falling back as he tried to maintain his composure.

“You fill me up so good, oh fuck,” you said in between breaths, your nails raking across his back. His veiny, thick cock hitting every spot inside you that made you see stars. You two remained like that, joined together, Duncan thrusting into you at a rapid pace, coming almost all the way out before sheathing himself back inside you each time, moans, grunts and expletives falling out of both your lips.

Duncan put his hand on your lower stomach, “fuck,” he gasped. “I can feel myself right here.”

“Duncan I’m gonna cum,” you moaned breathlessly, his cock hitting you in just the right spot, bringing you to your climax.

“Good girl,” Duncan said, bringing his hand down to flick at your clit, tearing moan after moan from your throat. “That’s it. Cum for me, cum for daddy.”

With that you came completely undone, your walls contracting around his thick cock, sending him over the edge. “Fuck,” he groaned as he threw his head back, releasing his thick, hot load into you before stilling and pulling out of you.

Duncan reached over to the bottle of champagne he’d opened earlier and poured you a glass. “So,” he smirked. “Let me know when you want to reconnect for round two.”

Tagging: @ccodyfern @yourkingcodyfern @icylangdon @katiekitty261 @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @lvngdvns @langdonsrapture @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @xtheinevitableprophecyx @michael-lngdon @lovelykhaleesiii @queencocoakimmie @langdonsoceaneyes @sojournmichael @langdonsinferno @starwlkers @jimmlangdon @gremlinkween @master-langdon @cocosfern @divinelangdon @ghostiesbedroom @antichristinq @ladynuwanda @her-starry-eyes @coollangdon

Starker Smut: Stuck in a Rut

... Maybe I should start off with an apology first cause I feel like this is a tease more than anything.

Also, not beta'd and only very lightly looked over. Forgive me for any mistakes 😭 and God save me from titles. I might change this one cause idek. 

Alpha!Tony starting his rut and omega Peter just wants to help, if only Tony would let him.

Notes: alpha!Tony, omega!Peter, intersex omegas, dirty talk, Rutting alphas, phone sex, size kink

💗💗💗

Peter could smell it.

It wasn’t something he was familiar with but that primitive part of his brain knew what it was. That scent… It drew him in, made him lean closer, made him want to hiss at all the other omegas that might come near his alpha.

Mr. Stark.

The heady musk that only virile alphas gave off during certain times… It was doing funny things to Peter’s head. He wondered if the bite made him more susceptible to his omega instincts. Because for the last few days, Peter has been on edge. Whether or not he was near Tony, he was anxious and unsettled.

Maybe it was just him, after all. Not the bite. Not his spidey senses, just Peter Parker, an omega in the prime of his life. And apparently, this side of him was fixated on Anthony Stark.

Perhaps it would be surprising to others, but it wasn't to Peter. He had been obsessed with Iron Man and Tony Stark since he was unpresented. Those feelings only grew and changed after he had presented as an omega. And then it changed once more when he found out that Tony was an alpha.

His instincts saw Tony as the perfect mate. And it had nothing to do with his financial security, though that was certainly a bonus for sure.

No, Peter was in love with the man’s brilliance. With his busy hands and unrivaled mind. His generous heart.

So when he started smelling this scent, Peter knew almost instantly. The first time he had scented it, his body had lurched forward as though a hook had been buried in his stomach. The very first whiff of Tony’s alpha scent caused a violent tug towards the alpha and he had stumbled.

Of course, Tony caught him, worried over his sudden stumble. How could he explain that his mentor's scent was just… too much for him to handle? That he was getting wet… His little cocklet growing hard and slick wetting his holes… Looking into Tony's concerned gaze, how could he tell the alpha that he wanted him so much that he felt like he was going in heat because of that scent...

Tony was just a man. An incredible, genius of an alpha, but he didn't have Peter’s heightened senses. Did he know he was going into rut?

A few days later and the scent was so strong that it turned the heads of omegas and betas alike. There was a stiffness to Tony's shoulders, a tightening of the muscles in his face that told Peter that Tony was well aware now.

“I want to help you,” Peter demanded. His voice was steady, unyielding, but his heart was pounding, quaking in his chest.

“Help me with what, kid?” Tony didn't look up from where he was making repairs. He was playing dumb, something Tony rarely did with him.

So Peter put down his own tools and took the five steps he needed to get into Tony’s personal space. Tony’s alpha instincts were revved up by now, his urges kept simmering just right beneath his sweat damp skin.

Carefully, as though he was approaching a wild animal, Peter placed his hand on top of Tony’s shoulder. He could feel the fine tremble beneath his palm, Tony restraining himself from reacting.

“Your rut, Mr. Stark,” Peter said clearly.

Tony’s gaze snapped towards him, finally dragged away from the illusion that everything was okay. That he wasn't falling deeper and deeper into the first stages of an alpha’s rut.

His nostrils flared, no doubt catching Peter's distinctive scent and all the subtle notes in it. Worry. Interest. Arousal.

“... The hell, Peter?” Tony growled.

The omega only clenched his teeth, fighting back the urge to step away. His alpha was still in denial

What stopped Peter from being mortified was that even as Tony stared at him, his own scent didn't change. It remained receptive, even deepening in the way alpha scents did when they were trying to lure in a mate.

Except Peter was the one trying to lure in his alpha.

“I smelled it. Days ago,” Peter told him. His hand slipped down Tony’s shoulder and pressed the cotton of Tony’s tank against the warm skin of his chest. “You’re going into a rut and I can help. I mean, I want to help, sir.”

Tony told him to leave.

Peter left but that didn't mean he stayed away.

The tower went on lockdown that night but Peter was back in the morning. He waited on the roof, talking to Karen in the spidey suit, asking her to relay messages to Tony.

He smelled so close to his rut that Peter fretted, just waiting for his alpha to come to his senses.

“Karen, can you tell FRIDAY that Mr. Stark needs to drink more fluids this week?”

“I will relay the message,” Karen said, reassuringly.

“He’s not skipping meals, is he?” Peter muttered, more to himself than actually asking.

This was why alphas and omegas did better with a partner. It was easy to forget to do things. The most basic survival instincts, eating … sleeping… all disrupted during a rut or a heat. All placed secondary to the need to breed and that need would run rampant without a partner.

It was already late… He should return home but he couldn't help pacing around the roof. Worrying. Fantasizing.

If Mr. Stark started his rut, there was a chance that just one floor down, his alpha was already touching himself. Was he thinking of Peter?

The omega bit his lip, feeling the faint stirring of desire grow stronger.

Surely, Mr. Stark had something to help him?

Without a partner, omegas had knotting dildos. Fabricated alpha scent to ease the ache.alphas had fleshlights and synthesized slick and omega scents.

Peter had to stop himself from whining right then and there because his instincts knew that Mr. Stark needed him. And his body responded to the thoughts, insides getting soppy and wet in preparation.

It knew what his alpha needed and being a good omega meant being ready…

With a muffled whine, Peter dropped to his knees in frustration. All the way up here, there was no one to see him…

Peter pressed his hand between his legs, palming his growing cock and wishing Tony would just– His head tipped back as he leaned against the wall. He wiggled in place and groaned when wetness made everything slick and slippery between his thighs.

“Mr. Stark…” Peter groaned, frustrated.

“Mr. Parker,” the alpha's voice answered from his comm.

The omega nearly leaped off the building in surprise.

“Mr. Stark?!” Peter's heart was pounding and he immediately did a 360, trying to see if the alpha was nearby.

“I'm not–” Tony's voice was rough. “I'm inside, kid. What are you doing out there?”

Peter shouldn't have been surprised but for some reason, that realization only added to his frustration.

“...I was worried…” Peter admitted.

A few seconds of silence.

“You don't need to worry about me,” Tony huffed. “I'm… I'm fine, kid. Perfectly fine.”

Yeah, that wasn't convincing.

“Liar…” Peter muttered quietly. Of course, the system picked it up perfectly according to soft tsk Tony made in response.

“This isn't my first rut,” Tony sighed, “I can handle it. I just need a few days and I'll be fine.”

“But–” Peter cut himself off. They'd already had this argument and he had a feeling that they'd just be in an endless loop if it started up again.

“I can make it good for you,” Peter blurted out. He was immediately mortified, even more so when he heard a choked huff on the line. His face burned, but he didn't take it back.

Tony sighed but said, “Have you ever had a heat partner before, Parker? Or helped an alpha through a rut?”

“Well, no–”

“Then you have no idea what you're asking for,” Tony interrupted. “You think you can handle it? Ruts are… They're rough, kid. The things an alpha would do to you…”

The things I would do to you…

That was the hidden message, wasn't it? Peter's heart jumped at the thought and he clung to it.

“What… what would they do to me…” Peter said softly, hoping that Mr. Stark would go off into one of his rants.

It wasn't his lucky night. Tony immediately picked up the change in his tone, the breathlessness of it telling the alpha that Peter was getting turned on.

“Kid–” A warning, a plea.

“I'm not a kid,” Peter protested immediately. “You're saying alphas would– That alphas in rut would do all these things to me but what if that's what I want, Mr. Stark? As long as it's you… The things I would do if I was there with you and you were in rut, it's so… so embarrassing but I would do it!”

Beyond mortified now, Peter was ready to swing himself home and hide beneath the blanket. The silence between them only added to his embarrassment and he really was ready to jump off when his ears picked up the soft, shaky breath that Tony inhaled.

“...What would you do…?” Tony's voice was barely a whisper but it was enough to make Peter suddenly hyper aware of where he was. What he was doing.

His mind was telling him to be careful. He didn't want to fuck up this change. But another part of him was telling him to take the plunge. It had gotten him this far, hadn't it?

“Anything you want,” Peter answered honestly. “I'd… I'd let you do anything you want to me, Mr. Stark…”

Soft rustling, barely audible. A soft sigh.

“I like that…” Tony admitted, “But that's not what I was asking, kid. I want to know what you would do. If you were right here, right in front of me.”

Peter swallowed, trying to picture it. He had so many fantasies and when he was in bed, his mind would jump from one scenario to another, trying to choose the best one to suit his mood.

Tentatively and a bit shyly, Peter said, “That depends, sir… Are you, um, hard?”

A strained laugh. “Maybe. I am starting my rut.”

Peter shivered, already imagining it. He could do this… He could tell Mr. Stark all the dirty things he imagined when he was alone in his room.

It was easier to do when he closed his eyes, the soft sound of his alpha's breathing keeping him grounded.

“I'd already be… um, wet,” Peter began, “I always am when I think about it. About you, I mean.”

His fingers twitched on his thigh. His cocklet had softened a bit during this initial talk but once the first few thoughts came tumbling out, it was like he couldn't stop it.

“I think about you a lot,” Peter confessed, “A-And I think about all the omega's you've had and I get so jealous. Sorry… That's not… That isn't what you wanted to hear.”

He took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

“If… If you were in front of me, Mr. Stark,” Peter began again, “I'd want to touch you… I'd want you to touch me.”

Then a soft whisper, his fingers trailing over his inner thigh, barely brushing against his erection.

“My… cock is getting hard,” Peter said, “But I'd want you to see how wet I am for you… I'd take your hand and bring it between my legs… I'd let you touch me… Feel how slick I am…”

“Are you wet now?” The alpha asked.

The only way Peter had known Tony was still listening was the ragged breathes the mic picked up. Actually hearing the alpha's voice made his insides clench down, hungry for friction.

“I… think so.” Peter knew he was, he'd only gotten even more slick once he started talking. He'd never done anything like this and telling Tony Stark, the alpha of his dreams, about all these intimate details was really getting to him.

“Check for me.” Tony murmured.

It felt like Peter's heart stopped then jumped out of his chest.

“I'm wearing the suit…” Peter replied like that mattered. His legs were already spreading apart, his hand moving down. He hissed when his fingertips brushed against his pussy, the fabric damp with his slick.

He only wore a tiny thong. Didn't want any lines visible through the suit. It did absolutely nothing to stop the slick from speeding through his suit  when he was aroused.

“Are you?” Tony asked once again.

“Yeah…” Peter gasped, pressing down harder. “I'm really… wet for you.”

He waited with bated breath, wondering if that was too far. But on the other side, he heard a soft groan, the unmistakable sound of a cap being flicked open.

“Mr. Stark…” He started to pant, lazily stroking along the sensitive lips of his pussy over the cloth. “Are you touching yourself?”

“...Yeah…”

Peter groaned, removing his hand and squeezing his thighs together.

“I wish I could see it…” he said without thinking.

He heard a dark chuckle in response. Then his mouth almost dropped open when the screen in his suit blacked out. He gasped when his vision was replaced with an image of his mentor.

His alpha.

In the lab with his pants open and a rock hard erection proudly curving up towards his toned stomach. A large, calloused hand was stroking it, thick fingers lazily pumping from root to tip. It was glistening with wetness, coated in lube so that every stroke the alpha gave it looked almost effortless.

“It's huge…” Peter croaked, hands reaching out in front of him like he was actually there.

“I'm glad you like it,” Tony rumbled. His legs spread apart a bit more, giving Peter a more ample view of his groin.

The visual was messing with Peter's head a bit. It seriously felt like he could just lean over and touch it… his hands clenched in his lap, a soft whimper caught behind his teeth.

“Have you ever seen an alpha's cock…?” Tony asked him, voice low with promise.

“Only in porn,” Peter immediately answered then blushed. “Yours looks… better. Bigger.”

The alpha smiled and Peter felt those butterflies return, making him feel giddy and turned on at the same time.

“How about an alpha's knot…?” Tony murmured

“I… I would really like to see yours,” Peter said, breathless at the opportunity.

The older man let go of his cock, letting Peter get an unobstructed view of it. Saliva flooded his mouth when he took it all in… The thick veiny length of it and the folds of skin at the base where the knot would form.

“Mr. Stark…” he mumbled. “If I was there, I'd… God, I don't know what I'd do but I want it. I want it in my mouth… I want it inside me. I'd let you do anything you want, I just– I need it.”

Now that Tony had opened the video between them, he could see how his words affected the alpha. That impressive cock twitched at his words, precome forming into cloudy beads of fluid at the tip before dribbling down the sides.

His eyes were fixated on it.

“I'd lick that all up,” he said, shamelessly. He shifted in place, his hand closing in around his stiff cocklet. “I'd… God. I'd climb onto your lap and ride it.”

Tony's jaw clenched. Peter was pleased to see how much the alpha was being affected.

“I don't know if that'd be a good idea,” Mr. Stark says nonchalantly. “You should probably start out slow… Rutting alphas… You get a hole anywhere near our cock and we'd just fuck right in…”

“I'd let you,” Peter answered right away. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised if there was a small puddle of slick under his ass. ”I’m so slick, Mr. Stark… You'd slip right in…”

Tony's lips parted, eyes dark as he imagined Peter's words.

“... Peter… You need to be sure… I'll try my best to control it but– I can't promise anything.” He said, almost begging. “Once we start, I won't stop… I'll end up rutting you… Knotting you over and over again.”

Peter only had one thing to say to that.

“Good.”

He saw Tony's lips part as he breathed in, eyes slipping shut for just a moment.

The last thing he saw was the alpha opening his eyes, all uncertainty wiped clean. His gaze was that of a predator's and it felt like he was looking right at Peter through the camera.

Peter's screen returned to normal.

“Get inside,” his alpha growled.

Safe

Pairing: Tyler Jones x reader

Request: @thats-so-bucky asked “ When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More with tyler ”

Warnings: swearing, non-graphic violence

A/N: idek what to put in authors notes at this point 😂

Word Count: 1512

*

"Oh come on, I thought we were making progress." Mild annoyance was the main thing Tyler could hear in the girl's voice through the comms but there was something else there too. Hidden too skilfully for most to recognise, a note of panic underneath it all. His heart clenched fearfully. Something had gone wrong.

"Sorry sweetheart, we've just identified your ship. We know who you actually are and we know who you're travelling with." Shit. Not good. Everyone was thinking the same thing. They'd sent (Y/N) to negotiate with these pirates specifically because they didn't think anyone could recognise her. She'd only joined them on the world ship after all so the TDF didn't know she was involved. Obviously someone had connected some dots and told the authorities.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to call their bluff. She knew it probably wasn't going to work but if she could avoid a confrontation, she would.

"Oh, I think you do. You and your little friends seem to have caused quite some trouble for the TDF. They seem very interested in getting their hands on you all."

"You don't have to do this.” She tried. “You have no idea how big this is. Just let us leave. We won't bother you again and the TDF will never have to know."

"Sorry, it's nothing personal, but the TDF are willing to pay a lot to anyone who brings you in." The sound of many disruptor pistols being charged bled through the comms and the bridge of the Longbow went still. "I wouldn't take another step if I were you. They want you dead or alive. We don't particularly care which, in fact dead is easier, so I suggest you don't give us a reason to shoot."

Tyler's breath caught and he gripped the edge of his console hard. Fighting to keep a lid on his anger and panic, he looked to Zila.

"Can you get us into their surveillance? Or find some schematics? Anything we can use to help her."

"Their tech is rudimentary, it should not be hard to hack." She sat down, fingers flying over displays before her butt even touched the seat. Tyler tuned back into what was going down on the pirate's ship.

"You don't have to shove me so hard, I'm not resisting." (Y/N)'s still irritated voice. What had he missed?

"Walk faster. We still don't mind shooting you."

"I can't go any faster, I sprained my ankle yesterday." Lie. "Besides, what do you think is going to happen? There's four of you and one of me. You're armed, I'm not. I've got no idea where we are on this ship now so there's no point in me trying to get away, I'd never make it." Clever girl. She knew Tyler would be working on a plan to help her. She was feeding him crucial information. 4 hostiles to manage. They'd taken her weapons. They were far enough away from the other pirates to buy some time.

"Got something sir. Surveillance and a map. The cameras are patchy at best but the map shows life-signs so once we locate her we can use that to navigate." Zila momentarily drew his attention as she filled the holographic screen between them all with the map, sending the camera feeds to their individual consoles.

"(Y/N), don't do anything yet but we've hacked their systems," Tyler whispered over the comms. "We're trying to locate you now and we'll let you know when the best time to strike is."

"What about that group of five on the third deck?" Kal pointed to a group of dots on the map.

"Someone find me a camera feed," Tyler ordered immediately.

"Got it Ty." Scarlett swiped the feed onto his screen.

"That's them." He checked the map, they were actually heading in the direction of the docking bays. "(Y/N), do you know where they're taking you?"

"So are you guys taking me to a nice cosy bedroom or am I being chucked in the brig?" She asked her captors.

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. I just wanted to know how far it is, my ankle is hurting."

"It's not far, down a couple of decks and at the end of the ship."

"Okay so that's probably the brig then," Cat said as she examined the map. "Two decks directly beneath the docking bays."

"I think you're right." He said and switched his Mic back on. "Okay, you're headed in the right direction. Hold off your escape as long as you can but don't let them take you to another deck. You're on the right one now." 

They watched on the camera as (Y/N) looked directly into one and made an okay sign discreetly with her hand. She was ready. They all were. Zila poised to override doors and launch systems, Cat and Kal quietly priming the weapons systems to cover her escape, Tyler, Fin, and Scarlett ready to guide her to safety. All they had to do was wait. 

The pirates stopped at a grav-lift still a fair distance from the docking bay. They weren't taking chances. Smart. The lift opened and one of them tried to nudge (Y/N) into it but she didn't move. A pistol charged, aimed at her head, and she frowned at it.

"Get in," one of them ordered. She took a step and the pistol was lowered. That was a mistake. 

Lightning fast it was knocked from the pirate's hand and (Y/N) caught it in midair half way through a roll. 

One of her captors went flying into the lift as she kicked out at him. Another received a disruptor blast to the shoulder and stumbled back, landing on top of her friend. Zila shut the doors remotely as the woman tried to stand again and sent the lift up several floors. (Y/N) took a few hits as she fought the remaining two but eventually got them both unconscious on the floor.

"Alright Tyler, where am I going?" It took a few minutes but eventually the squad managed to get her to the docking bay. She was limping with a small trickle of blood running down the side of her face but she got out of most of her run-ins unscathed. A few more pirates were waiting by her pod, obviously having been alerted by someone that she'd escaped custody. 

Two went down with well aimed shots but the third had the sense to dodge. Fortunately she was smaller and quicker, even injured, and managed to get round him quickly, throwing herself into the pod and sealing the airlock between them. The pirate tried shooting it a few times but to no avail and soon she was gone.

A tense minute passed as Cat and Kal fired on the pirates and they fired back, (Y/N) weaving in and out of the explosions and nearly meeting a fiery end a couple of times. Finally she docked with the Longbow and Tyler ordered Cat to get them out of there fast. He left (seemingly) calmly to go check on (Y/N) but broke into a run as soon as the doors shut behind him. The journey took half the time it usually would.

She grinned as she stumbled out of the pod and saw him enter the room. She barely even registered all her injuries with adrenaline still coursing through her veins. They crossed the distance together and Tyler was overwhelmed by having her back and alive. He hadn't realised just quite how scared he'd been for her. Unthinkingly, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

The dam of built-up emotions broke and they all flooded out through his lips. It was desperate and raw and completely unexpected but Tyler didn't care. (Y/N) didn't either and kissed him back just as hard.

After a minute the tide of feeling ebbed and he realised what he'd done. Breaking the kiss, he pulled away slightly, staring at her lips while he spoke.

"I'm sorry, are you sure you-" (Y/N) didn't let him finish, crashing their lips together again in answer. And Tyler wasn't going to protest. He kissed back, winding his arms around her waist and running his tongue along her lips. She opened her mouth on a little gasp and let him in as she allowed her hands to tangle in his hair. 

Time lost all meaning and they might have stayed lost in the kisses for hours if Scarlett hadn't interrupted. They'd both forgotten the others could both see and hear them on the cameras and comms.

"Uh guys, cute as you are, none of us need to hear you making out." 

"We need to figure out where the hell we're going too so get your asses up here," Cat added.

"Set a course for Riilok, we'll be up in a few minutes," Tyler replied before they both turned off their comms. They weren't back in a few minutes. They weren't back for a long time.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @thats-so-bucky

Aurora Cycle: @aurising

just thinking back to the day i met him, till now and,, there was always something about him. something that drew me in and everything just felt right. That day we met,, something about him just drew me in. idk if it was his sense of humor or just how polite n sweet and caring he was in general but it was,, something. idek why i even texted him in the first place. i just commented on his stuff and decided to text him. we talked for a few and then he showed me a pic of himself and i was just,, in awe. he really was the cutest thing ever. yes i had thought abt using him when i first saw him but,, i couldnt even if i had wanted to. i seen his pic and thought “yeah he looks like he’d be easy to use” but then by the end of texting him that night,, i fell so deeply for him. actually no. i already fell for him. way before we even met. that must be how everything felt so right. but just texting him a little bit that first night,, i just instantly wanted to know more about him. i never even talked abt someone else to my gc and for some reason i had the urge to talk about him,, like i knew he was the one but didn’t realize it. and then when we called for the first time,, i swear i had butterflies. even though i was otp with him and his friend,, i was so nervous to just talk to him. i had thought of him as my crush at that point. no one had ever made me feel that way. i never got so nervous to talk to anyone. i wanted to stay quiet that entire time so i wouldnt say something stupid and embarrass myself but something about him,, made me want to be so open. so i talked to him,, and when we got off the phone of our first call,, i was so incredibly sad. i wanted to talk to him more and more and i just wanted to call him again already,, but i wasnt sure how he had felt or if he even felt the same. i thought he did but i didnt wanna assume and make a fool out of myself. i wasnt sure if he had a crush or if he was just being nice. but after a while it was easy to realize. he was way too sweet and caring to me. more than a friend should be. he was there for me the night i was bawling otp w my ex. and he got mad and upset about how my ex was treating me in a way that was different than just my friends. and thats what made me fall for him even more. just him. being himself. him being so sweet. so caring. him just being there for me and not judging me and wanting others to treat me right. and when we videocalled that first time,,i was so nervous. i was worried he’d see what i look like and not be attracted to me anymore. but he still was. but i was so nervous anyways. but when i saw him on video call for the first time,, i was in shock. how could someone be so cute. so perfect. how could someone capture my heart just by simply smiling at me. i knew from then, that i, was in love with him. i wanted to be his so badly. but when he had asked me out i wanted to just scream yes at him,, but something in my mind told me to just calm down and wait,, however a part of me was worried that if i had made him wait that he’d find someone better and leave me. but he didn’t he stayed. even after that night i had told him everything. of how i used to use people and how i had originally planned to use him and he still stayed. i swear i felt my heart break that night and i was crying so much out of fear that he’d leave me before we even got together. i had such strong feelings for him and i wanted him to be mine. but i wanted to make sure i was away from,, that thing,, and that i fully loved him before i got into anything serious. i didnt wanna jump from relationship to relationship either. a part of me just wanted to be single and just have fun. but just,, talking to him and texting him,, i wanted him. i didnt care if i wasnt single. i just wanted him. but also a part of me didnt want to love again. or “love” as i should say considering i never loved anyone before him. i was mentally and emotionally exhausted and relationships are just so much work and you have to give someone such a large piece of yourself and i wouldnt be able to handle being broken again. so many thoughts ran through my head. “what if i dont love him, what if im just attracted to him because im going through things and he’s there for me” “what if he wont wait for me” “what if he doesnt like me “ “what if im using him and dont realize” “what if i get hurt” all these “what if’s” and i never once thought abt the reality of it all. that i, had feelings for him. that he felt the same. that he was willing to wait for me, even if it took years. that he would never hurt me and even allowed himself to be hurt by me if that meant even just getting a chance at me loving him. i guess i was just so worried and just in shock. no ones felt so deeply for me before.and that night that i had asked him out,,, i had seen a pic of my ex with this new girl and i felt absolutely nothing towards it. so then,, thats when i knew. i was over him. that emotional attachment was gone. and my feelings for sam were real. and we had called that night,, that entire night i was so nervous and got butterflies, and i realized i never stopped smiling once during that whole phone call. and after we got of,, i, once again, was extremely sad. i wanted to hear his voice talking to me for hours and hours. i wanted to smile and feel nervous and get butterflies. and at that point i was like,, fuck it. yes i was still worried that my feelings werent true. but what was the harm in trying. he was the only person to have caught my eye in like,, ever. he was on my mind that whole night and probably abt like 30 mins after we got off call i asked him out. my feelings for him were too strong. i was worried he wouldnt wait and i couldnt risk losing someone as special as him to someone else,, if i did, i wouldve never forgiven myself. im glad i asked him out. even though i had surprised myself by it,, i just couldnt wait any longer,, i needed to make him mine. and i did. and i wouldnt change it for the world. the first month for me was very,, rough. of course we were still getting to know each other and our boundaries,, and i of course made some mistakes. my fears of possibly not having true feelings were coming back. and it pushed him away because he didnt wanna get hurt. and he almost left me. those two nights that we had an issue and he had left me,, they broke me. they really did. that  was the worst i had ever been. the crying,, the screaming,, the anger and complete sadness i felt. i felt as if i had lost everything. i felt as if i had nothing left. if i didnt have him,, then,, who am i. im nothing without him. he’s my other half. my soulmate. and i thought i had lost him. im glad im so annoying and clingy otherwise i’d be so fucking heartbroken without him. we had only been together for less than a month those two times and yet i felt so strongly for him. nothing has ever made me feel this way. i had never wanted to keep someone in my life so bad before. it was like,, i needed him to breathe. i needed him to smile. i just,, needed him. i cant live without him. just thinking about a life without him makes me fucking sick. i want him and only him for the rest of our lives. no one can even compare to him. im just,, in shock. like im really in love with him and it just amazes me. im sitting here writing this as he’s sound asleep and i just. i miss him a lot. i guess all my feelings are coming out now since ive been distant the past month but,, i dont care. ill gladly shout from the rooftops how much i love him. god there’s so much more i could say about us. even before we started dating. i cant get over the rush i felt. the excitement, the nerves, the butterflies,, even all the “what if’s”,, i still get nervous and get butterflies when talking to him but ofc they’re not gonna be as strong as when we had met and declared our love for each other. speaking of love,, now im reminded of the day i had told him that i love him,, we had “argued” the day before and i thought i had lost him for good,, and that next day,,i wanted nothing more than to just hold him and kiss him and tell him that i love him. i know the words “i love you” is such a meaningful thing,, i couldnt help but tell him. its exactly how i felt. i loved him. i couldnt be apart from him,, even after only a week of dating him,, i was in love that night i thought he was leaving me for good,, absolutely broke me. and the next day i just wanted to hold him tight and never let him go. even though i was so nervous to tell him that i loved him,, i just,, i knew i was sure. no one had ever made me feel so strongly about them. yeah ive cried over my ex. but nothing could ever compare to just the complete distraught i felt that night. that crying so much it burned my throat and threw up,, the screaming,, just the complete sadness and anger i felt. after that,, i knew i loved him, and i wasnt afraid to tell him. i was nervous bc of how he’d react but i knew that i was never more sure of anything else in my life. i love him. and i want to be with him forever. 

Cardinal Attraction (Part 1 of 2)

Part 2

Pairing: Steve/Tony

Rating: T(??? Idek just to be safe, there’s like one? two? bad words in this thing but who can be sure with tumblr)

Soulmate AU: Every person is born wearing a compass around their neck that points to wherever their soulmate is. A twist on The Avengers. I found a rough draft for this fic that I’d written THREE YEARS AGO and I needed a reason to procrastinate, so here’s the finished version! Enjoy :)

Word count: 2719

A/N: This was originally going to be a one-shot but I got carried away so I had no choice but to split it into two parts, please stick around for the second half! 

Steve

As he went crashing to the ground for the third time, Steve Rogers couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ever gotten into this mess. One moment, he was sitting in a theater, trying to watch a movie with a thug in the front row who just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The next thing he knew, said thug had a death grip on his collar, dragging him to – surprise, surprise – a deserted alleyway, where he’d received quite a punch to his face that sent him flying unceremoniously into a trash can. The clang of body against metal reverberated loudly around the block as blood welled up in his mouth.

Hi, floor. Looks like we’ll be getting to know each other a bit too much for my liking.

Still seeing stars, Steve rolled over just in time, narrowly missing a blow that probably would have bedridden him for at least two weeks. He staggered shakily to his feet, trying his best to stare defiantly back at his attacker, but his rapidly swelling eyelids were making it kind of hard to see anything.

The man approached him slowly, obviously enjoying the moment. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” he sneered, towering over him.

“I could do this all day,” Steve retorted breathlessly, balling his fists. The man snorted contemptuously, before lunging out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, lifting him clear off the ground. Steve’s legs flailed in the air helplessly as he clawed at the man’s fingers, to no avail.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he snickered. “I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two about messing with the wrong people after I hang you by your-“ The man stopped short, groping at Steve’s throat, feeling nothing but skin and bones. “What the- where the hell’s yours?”

“Where’s what?” Steve wheezed through his constricted airway, feigning ignorance.

“You know damn well what,” the man growled, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Your compass.”

Steve hated himself for flinching at the all-too-familiar hostility that lined those last two words. “I… I don’t have one,” he hung his head, waiting for the inevitable reaction. Sure enough, the man dropped him as if his arm had been electrocuted, leaving Steve crumpled on the gravelly floor, gasping for air.

“You- you don’t have a-“ He glared at him with eyes filled with such disgust that Steve found himself involuntarily looking away. “Freak!” he spat. “You’re a freak, that’s what you are! You hear me? FREAK!” The man drew his fist back menacingly, preparing to deliver another blow. Steve squeezed his eyes shut.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing?”

Bucky.

The man jumped and swore, quickly making his escape, but not before throwing Steve another look of pure hatred. Bucky ran towards him.

“You okay? What did he do to you? Good God, Steve, your face-“

“I’m fine,” Steve muttered, heaving himself upright.

“No, you’re not! Steve, you know I won’t always be around to save your ass-“

“Then don’t,” he said sharply, immediately feeling guilty about the uncharacteristic harshness of his voice, but something inside him had snapped and he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “You can stop pretending now, Buck. You don’t need to stand up for- for the freak without a compass. I don’t need your pity. It wasn’t a big deal, I had everything under control, just- just leave me alone, okay?”

Steve limped off without looking back, leaving his best friend behind with a look of shock and hurt plastered across his face. He was used to the insults. He’d been on the receiving end all his life. Once, he even tried wearing a fake chain around his neck in hopes that people would finally treat him like they did everyone else, but his skin broke out in nasty rashes because of some weird substance in the metal. Eventually, he had to throw it out and learn to put up with the disgusted looks and words that people never hesitated to throw his way. He was small and scrawny, and admittedly had just about every single disease known to mankind, but no physical inferiority could ever compare to what many called his… condition.

This world was a world of compasses. People had indestructible silver chains around their necks that lasted from birth to death, on which hung a compass that pointed to your soulmate, destiny, one true love, or whatever you wanted to call it. Everyone had a soulmate, and it was a universal goal to find yours before your compass stopped working, which was a sign that they had died- the cruelest race against time and fate. The search was easily the most important part of anyone’s life, and your compass was all you had for any sort of guidance.

And Steve had been born without one.

“Peggy, I’m going to need a rain check on that dance.”

Steve furiously worked the controls, trying to convince himself that there was still hope, but deep down inside he knew he had no other options. If he wanted to save the people of New York, this plane needed to go down right now. He would die saving his country, fulfilling his duty as Captain America. With his mother and Bucky long gone, and without a soulmate to go after, he really didn’t have anything left to lose. It was this last thought that made him strangely calm. Ironic, really, that the curse of his lifetime turned out to be the one thing to give him peace during his final moments.

“Alright,” Peggy’s voice shook with tears. “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club. Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late! Understood?”

“You got it,” Steve panted. It wouldn’t be long now. Any moment and this plane would crash, right here in the middle of nowhere, saving thousands of people from certain death. A truly heroic way to go.

“And Steve?”

“Yeah, Peggy?”

“I’m- I’m sorry you weren’t my soulmate. If you… we… if there was any other way…”

Steve blinked. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. That was easily the sweetest thing anybody had ever said to him. And he loved Peggy, he really did. She was the one thing he was sorry to leave behind. But for some reason, as the plane hurtled toward the inevitable, Steve felt strangely elated. Euphoric, even. Maybe all the stress had gotten to him and he’d finally lost his mind.

“Be happy for me, Peggy. Be strong-“

His voice was abruptly cut off, lost in a sea of static.

“Steve? Steve? Steve!”

But Peggy Carter never received a reply.

Steve opened his eyes, the light blinding him for a moment. His brain felt foggy, like he’d just woken up from one of those deep sleeps he used to have after being knocked out with a particularly strong cold medicine in his pre-serum days. It was a short while before his surroundings focused into sharp clarity. Looking around, he had no idea where he was. Some kind of hospital room, apparently. The radio on the shelf was broadcasting a baseball game.

Just then, the door clicked open and a woman walked in, with dark brown curls and deep red lipstick that brought back a flood of memories. He stared.

That baseball game is beginning to sound awfully familiar.

“Good morning,” the woman smiled. “Or should I say, afternoon.”

Scratch familiar, I know that game. “Where am I?”

“You're in a recovery room in New York city.”

No, I’m not. “Where am I really?”

She frowned confusedly. “I'm afraid I don't understand.”

Steve pointed to the radio. “That game- it’s from May, 1941. I know, because I was there.” He got up from the bed, inching away from the woman. “Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where am I?”

The woman struggled to keep up with her pretense, but her panicked eyes betrayed her, her hand twitching ever so slightly toward her waist. “Captain Rogers?”

Steve whirled back and punched the wall. Just as I thought. it wasn't a real wall at all, but a decoy that crumbled to rubble at the first touch of his knuckle. Without a second glance at the woman behind him yelling something into her walkie-talkie, Steve ran. He didn’t put much thought into where he was going, as long as it was in the opposite direction from wherever he came from. His legs felt strange, almost foreign, like he hadn’t used them in a long time, but he didn’t stop running, knocking more than a few people over in the process. Within seconds, Steve found himself out on the streets full of passersby and sleek automobiles. Somewhere in his mind, he sensed that something about this entire place seemed a little off, but the immediate threat of his pursuers clouded his intuitions, overwhelming him with a desperate urge to escape. It wasn’t until the road opened up into a wide arena that Steve finally really looked.

And he stopped in his tracks and stared.

It was nothing like anything he’d ever seen before. Everything was so bright and colorful and… big. Enormous, glossy buildings towered above him on every side while huge screens blinked with lights of every color. The crowds and crowds of people only added to the mesmerizing tumult of the situation. In his confusion, Steve failed to see the black cars pulling over around him before it was too late. He was cornered. He had no choice but to watch as a man in a black suit and an eyepatch got out of the nearest car.

"At ease, soldier!” he called as Steve visibly tensed. “Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."

Steve narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding. "Break what?"

"You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years." He watched Steve carefully as the news sunk in. "Are you gonna be okay?"

“Yeah, I just... I had a date," he mumbled. His heart was still thumping furiously, threatening to burst out of his rib cage. He could almost feel the cold, round piece of metal on his chest bouncing around to the beat of his...

Wait a minute. A what on his where?

Steve looked down to receive the biggest shock of his life- and this was after what he’d just gone through, which was definitely saying something. For a moment, he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing- a long, silver chain around his neck with a pendant that lay right over his heart. The needle beneath the clear glass face of the pendant trembled delicately, occasionally jolting here and there as he turned slowly on the spot.

He had a compass.

Tony

Tony Stark was destined for science. Or at least, that’s what he chose to believe, because ever since he was born, his compass always pointed north. No matter which way he moved(and he should know, because once in a fit of frustration he got on his private jet and flew twice around the world just to be sure), it seemed to work like an ordinary compass. That, or his soulmate died at the north pole and his compass never got the message. But no. He’d seen people whose soulmates had passed away. Their compasses stopped working altogether, spinning around forever in a meaningless search of a force to pull them towards fate once more. It was a depressing sight. At one point he’d briefly entertained the possibility that maybe his soulmate hadn’t been born yet, but soon afterwards he learned that in such cases, the compass needle would have no magnetism at all. It would remain much like the broken hands of a watch until the day your soulmate was brought into the world.

As far as Tony could tell, his compass was still fully functional, which could only mean that his soulmate was alive somewhere. He, like everyone else, had often dreamt of meeting his other half. Apparently, the experience was different for everyone- ecstatic for some, more haunting for others. But one thing was certain- the moment you locked eyes with your soulmate, the color of your compass changed from silver to gold, symbolizing the start of a union unlike any other. Biggest life achievement right there, and his compass was stuck pointing at the North Pole.

After years of searching in vain for someone he was beginning to doubt even existed, Tony turned to the one thing he could rely on to produce definitive results: science. So he worked. He came to dismiss the entire soulmate business as the stuff of fairy tales and far-fetched childhood dreams. He dedicated his life to building his own empire of technology and weapons. Although many pursued him, he refused to settle down, instead choosing to bounce from partner to partner on a daily basis. It was his way of telling the universe to fuck off with its empty promises of true love and happiness. Sure, people talked, but who cared about what anybody thought when you were filthy rich?

And then Afghanistan happened. For the first time, Tony was brought face to face with the consequences of the path he’d started down on, and what he saw was far from pretty. The rest, simply put, was history. The public adored Iron Man. Stark Industries was thriving like never before. He himself was finally beginning to feel like he’d become something more than Howard Stark’s legacy, and was even considering taking his relationship with Pepper to the next level.

In short, he’d never been happier.

It was pretty late when he finally arrived home. Being a CEO was getting pretty boring, what with all the annoying company procedures he honestly couldn’t care less about. Dinner with Pepper was great, though. She really was an amazing woman- beautiful, kind, clever, and responsible- the type of person that his stockholders would love to see at the head of the board. Come to think of it, Pepper running the company didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. He was only in it for the inventing, anyway. Maybe he could bring it up on their next date? As exciting as that sounded, he couldn’t help but be very conscious of the slight clinking sound his compass made every time he took a step, its metal surface brushing against the arc reactor lodged in the center of his chest. Things would’ve been so much easier if Pepper had been his soulmate…

His thoughts were interrupted as he realized he wasn’t alone. He could make out the dark silhouette of a man looking out of the window- his window- in the middle of the living room. How the hell had he gotten past security? As if sensing his approach, the intruder turned, and the first thing Tony noticed about him was his eyepatch.

“Funny, last time I checked, it definitely wasn’t Halloween.”

“You think you're the only superhero in the world?” Pirate-dude raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Stark, you've become part of a bigger universe. You just don't know it yet.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”

Tony frowned. He knew about S.H.I.E.L.D, but the fact that the government wanted something from him so badly they had to resort to breaching the privacy of his household wasn’t exactly thrilling news. He got the feeling that he was in for a long night. Sighing, he dropped his head in exasperation, and was about to give Furious Nick a piece of his mind when he noticed something odd out of the corner of his eye. His first conclusion was that he had to be drunk, otherwise how could this be happening, but he knew for a fact he’d only had a glass of wine that evening. He wondered if someone had slipped something into his drink, but he didn’t feel drugged at all- on the contrary, adrenaline was surging in his veins and he’d never felt so alive. He grabbed his necklace and brought it to his eyes for closer inspection, and it soon became clear that he wasn’t hallucinating.

For the first time in 38 years, the needle on his compass was not pointing north.

It was moving.

Gorgeous - A Toni Topaz Oneshot

A/N : Toni is probably my favourite Riverdale charcter right now (and Sweet Pea, my man) so I’m going to try and make it as good as possible. Enjoy!

Requested : Yes! (thanks to @mikesradsweaters)

Summary : idek man i guess it’s kinda cute. It’s not my best work and it is a little fast but meh. Its tolerable.

*************

Whenever I couldn’t sleep, I drew Toni. She looked so beautiful when she was asleep; it was like the calmness of the night embodied itself as her. I was always in awe of it.

I sat next to the window in her bedroom, letting the moonlight illuminate my sketchpad and Toni’s face. Slowly, I drew a rough outline of her shape. The way her face squished against the pillow, how one of her hands rested under behind her back and the other was outstretched towards the side of the bed where I usually slept and how her mouth was slightly open, letting the occasional snore escape.

I took my earphones out from underneath my pillow and put them in and started the drawing.

After a while, my eyes started feeling heavy with sleep. Just as I was about to put my sketchpad away, I heard a quiet rustling behind me. I turned around and saw Toni slowly raise her head.

“Babe?” she whispered.

“Yeah. It’s just me.”

“What are you doing up? Did you have a nightmare?” she asked, sitting up.

I shook my head. “No, no. I just couldn’t sleep. I was just drawing.”

She grabbed a hairband from the bedside table and pulled her hair up into a pony. “Can I see what you did?” she asked feebly. She put a hand on my shoulder and kissed my shoulder as I sat down on the bed.

“Yeah. Sure.”

I took my sketchpad and gave it to her. She observed the drawing with silence. I loved her so much in that moment. She knew I had problems sleeping and she never questioned it. I’d asked her a few weeks ago if she minded me drawing her, and though she hesitated, she gradually agreed.

“I know it’s really bad. I just…. I don’t know. It’s just not up to the mark,” I said, slowly turning away from her.

She looked at me with knitted eyebrows.

“Are you kidding me? Babe, this is the greatest piece of art I’ve ever seen! And not just because it’s my face,” she screamed.

“Jeez, T, shush. There’s people who actually need to sleep,” I replied.

“Well they can sleep later! First, they need to know that MY girlfriend is possibly the best artist in the world,” she said. “Though she doesn’t seem to think so, ” she continued, whispering.

I rolled my eyes at her and slipped under the covers. Toni looked at the drawing for a few more seconds before putting the sketchpad on her bedside table.

I linked my cold hand with Toni’s. I fell asleep almost instantly. Having Toni by my side was the only way I could fall asleep.

*************

The next morning

****

Toni and I grabbed a cup of coffee each from Pop’s and made our way to Southside High as quick as possible. We couldn’t afford being late again. And we already were.

In contradiction to our beliefs, we actually reached there earlier than most of our friends. Sweet Pea and Fangs came just a while after us.

“You both look really tired,” Sweet Pea said while looking through his bag for something. Quietly, he took out a single cigarette and lit it.

“Yeah, we didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“What were you guys doing?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Nothing you’re going to be doing anytime soon,” Toni replied. She turned back and winked at me.

Toni took the cigarette out of his mouth and stomped it on the floor. Smoking in front of her was no-no. I would know; surprisingly. The last, and only, time she caught me smoking she didn’t talk to me for almost a month. I don’t know why it matters so much to her but I’m not one to question or complain. What Toni wants, she gets.

As the bell for first period rang, Toni gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked off in the other direction. Sweet Pea and I said goodbye to Fangs and walked to our class together.

“So, honestly, what did you guys do yesterday?”

“Exactly what you think, Sweets, exactly what you think.”

fin.

Prompt #210 - Not Ashamed

@lunabelles : ‘holy shit! She’s on her way over here right now, she/he CANNOT see you! 

ANON: ‘who topped?’ 

from: morning after sentence starters

it’s not the morning after??? nor is it a sentence starter?? idek what happened here??? It’s also 4am??

AO3

NOT ASHAMED

‘Oh, oh, Owen!’ Claire moaned on a high note as her orgasm snapped and flared, sending shockwaves through her body. She gave him a lazy grin, cheeks split as she lowered her chest to his, their mouths meeting upon decent. With Owen’s arms wrapped around her back, Claire allowed herself to collapse onto him. ‘Why don’t we do this more?’

Owen hummed, fingers splayed across her back as he drew nonsense shapes, giving her a minute to recover before he started thrusting again with small strokes from beneath her sated body. ‘You work too much.’ He told her without hesitation, face drawn in stern lines as sweat continued to sit on his brow. Owen was too concerned about his own release to notice her small flinch.

He wasn’t wrong. Her hours were long and relentless, her job unforgiving. He had once asked her why she lived at the resort instead of employee housing, expecting her answer to be one of a higher standard. She lived in the Hilton purely because it provided closer access to the Innovation Centre and all that it held. Claire wasn’t exactly proud to admit that, but this was why Masrani hired her; dedication to her work. It did, however, interfere with their arrangement.

They were currently tangled in the sheets belonging to her bed in said resort apartment. It didn’t interfere that much but it certainly made Claire say ‘no’ on far too many occasions where her place was the only option. She didn’t want him spotted sneaking in and out of her apartment. She didn’t want to be caught fucking the Raptor handler when Claire knew she should damn well know better. Owen wasn’t jeopardising her job but in the eyes of a few, he was well below her league. That and she knew the hullabaloo it would cause when the Jurassic World staff uncovered that she and Owen were doing something about all that sexual tension.

He was just a bad habit. Nothing permanent. That was why she wanted no one to know. Because the second people found out would be when things started getting sticky.

Claire used work as an excuse not to see him. Late meetings. Early meetings. Busy schedule. All of it a means to control what was happening between them. To doctor when they did and did not see each other. But, work had also become her excuse to see him too. Bad day, stressful day, brilliant day, high achieving personal goals day or a completely slow and out of her mind kind of day. Owen was stress relief with a cocky smile and a firm hand on her hip. He made her happy for those short hours she allowed.

Claire pulled away from him, rolling off the man's chest as his cock slipped from her body, still hard. She pouted at him, playing sympathetic as wrapped her fingers around the base of him and brushed her lips against the tip. Claire didn't know what it was, but she liked giving Owen head. Never had she usually enjoyed that part of intercourse but Owen was selfless and Claire was happy to return the favour without his need to ask. The thing was, he never asked her to do it, never gripped her hair or forced her to stay on her knees. Things with them were always about what made the other comfortable. The sex was often rough and hard, pushing the air right out of her lungs as his hands left marks on her skin. But, never would he thrust his cock in her face and demand she swallow. Claire found she liked it when the option was her choice. Her idea. She loved it when Owen was completely unaware, the man never expecting it and always surprised when she settled between his legs and lent forward.

He propped himself up on his elbows, eager to watch as her gaze met his, Claire’s smile wicked before her lips spread across the width of him. She had barely begun when she scraped her teeth gently up the sides of his thick cock, Owen letting out a sound of pleasure when someone knocked on the door. She ignored them at first, but Owen could tell Claire's attention had shifted. She was still bobbing her head in his lap, her tongue swirling around him but not with the same focus. He sighed, dropping down on his back in defeat as the knocking persisted, Claire letting him go with an easy pop as she reached for her robe and moved for the door.

From her bedroom, Owen could hear Claire’s voice but not her words. Someone there kept her attention for a few minutes before her voice got closer, her words clearer. ‘I just need fifteen minutes and I’m all yours.’ She reappeared, cheeks red and eyes wild as she shut the door behind her with frantic movements. ‘Holy shit!’ Claire swore for the first time outside of sex. He had never heard her cuss in panic or anger, just sheer lust. ‘She’s gonna come down the hallway, she cannot see you!’ Claire moved for him, hissing as she grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pull Owen up.

‘I’m sorry? Who?’

‘Zara.’ She hissed, keeping her voice down low as Owen sagged worry flaring in the back of his mind that she had a partner who didn’t know about their activities. ‘Get up.’ Claire grunted, letting go of his wrist as she stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. ‘Seriously, Owen. I don’t want her to see you.’ She busied herself in picking up his clothes, throwing them at him one by one.  

‘Where the hell am I supposed to go?’ He asked, standing in front of her, butt naked and clutching his clothes to his chest as he heard Zara’s footsteps approach the door. Claire just stared at him, wide-eyed and annoyed asking him silently how on Gods sweet Earth was she supposed to have the answer to that. Her eyes trailed behind him, landing on her large closet before she stalked towards him and encouraged the man inside.

‘Claire?’ Zara knocked on the closed bedroom door. Claire hummed in acknowledgement, opening it with a smile. ‘Do you want me to go over your schedule?’ Owen listened as the other woman perched herself on the edge of the messy bed without a word before unlocking her phone and going over Claire’s meetings for the day. The closet door was left open just an inch, enough that Owen could see Claire in the en-suit brushing her hair and starting her makeup routine.

He crouched there for ten minutes, knees starting to ache as he mourned the perfectly good erection that went to waste — for him, at least Claire seemed to enjoy it before she shoved him in her closet to put her job first.

Zara was still talking, no longer sitting as she leant against the bathroom doorframe blocking his view of Claire. He had zoned her out, too busy cursing himself for getting in the damned closet, to begin with.

He liked Claire. A lot. Owen couldn’t count on both hands the number of times he had dropped something to be at her beck and call. It was a little too eager maybe, but it said a lot about how he felt for her. He was still denying it was anything more than lust buried deep in his bones. They were working on getting it out. She had taken the opportunity one too many times to push him away and this was his final straw. Owen grunted as he forced his stiff knees to move, bringing him back to his full height as he pushed the closet door open and stepped out into Claire’s bedroom.

‘You know what? I’m too old to be hiding in the closet until the coast is clear. I did that enough when I was in high school.’ Zara startled, but Claire, standing behind her looked at Owen like she half expected him to throw in the towel. She shrugged, trying to play nonchalant as Owen’s frustrations grew. ‘Don’t look at me like that! You’re the one who shoved me in there Claire like you’re ashamed.’

‘I am — I’m not ashamed of you, Owen Grady.’ She answered but he couldn’t hear an argument as to why not. ‘Would you put some clothes on?’ She sighed, hands raising and falling to hit her hips with a soft smack. He was still naked, Zara standing so her face was turned away, embarrassment tinting her cheeks.

He apologised as he turned back to the closet to find his jeans.

‘I’m going to leave you two alone.’ Zara announced as she hurriedly moved for the door. He thought Claire’s assistant was gone when the bedroom door squeaked, her voice sparking up again. ‘Just curious,’ she started, ‘who topped?’ Owen didn’t hesitate in pointing a finger towards Claire, too scared of Claire’s wrath to verbally answer the other woman. Zara winked at him, her smirk wide as she turned back to Claire. ‘Your first meeting isn’t until ten. I won’t expect you any earlier.’ She sang `have fun’ as she disappeared out of the apartment leaving Owen and Claire to their standoff.

‘I’m not ashamed of you.’ She told him again, eyes sincere but tired. Owen tracked her, watching Claire move from the en-suite to her bed, pulling herself onto it before sitting with her legs crossed. ‘I just, I don’t know.’ There was no excuse to pull. She honestly couldn’t look Owen in the eye and give him an answer as to why she panicked. It was just that: panic. She didn’t want anyone to know about them but she wasn’t ashamed. Claire was so used to keeping things private. Secrecy was her default. ‘I just didn’t want everyone in our business.’ That was honest. ‘I’m still trying to figure out what is going on here.’ She didn’t know if she wanted anything out of their relationship beyond sex. Hadn’t even stopped to think about Owen as a permanent fixture in her life. ‘If other people know they might push us in a direction we’re not ready for.’

Owen could reason with that. He didn’t know what he wanted or expected from Claire but if she felt like her boundaries were about to be pushed he would do anything to stop her from running away or feeling pressured. ‘Just don’t shove me in the closet again.’ He dropped beside her, bed bouncing under his weight. Claire nodded, chuckling softly as she apologised, her hand on his.

‘Why don’t you stop by my place later tonight and we’ll continue what we didn’t finish this morning?’ Owen asked, leaning into her side. ‘And you can’t say you’re busy because I heard Zara say your last meeting ended at seven, three times.’

She turned a grin to him, eyes rolling as she stood and stepped away from the bed. ‘I can do that.’  

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here

Part One - Part 2

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post! This high key sucks but Idk if little kids read these and I didn’t wan to get too invested if you know what I mean. I hope you guys enjoy and just know that you can always send in requests! (Please send in request cause I’m high key clueless) 

(Y/N)’s POV

“How do you feel about the color yellow?” Evie asked me as she was looking over the yellow section of her clothing line. Yellow was a very bright color and I wasn’t too sure if Carlos was a fan of bright colors. People seldom wore yellow at Auradon Prep so me wearing it would definitely stand out. I often wore light blue, or purple, or white with a pop of red to resemble my parents. My tongue peeked out in between my lips as I thought, what the hell? 

“Let’s do yellow and mix it up a bit.” I smiled as Evie squealed and held up several different yellow dresses in front of my frame. The yellow made my skin pop and lit up my beaming face. Evie eventually picked a bright yellow dress that resembled the one that Belle wore when she had her first dance with the Beast. As for the design, the dress hugged my body in all the right places and made me feel stunning. It was a simple sundress that had little splashes of orange throughout but it wasn’t noticeable up close. 

“I hope you know that Evie spent hours making this with you in mind. If you didn’t like it, I would’ve marched to the museum, gotten my spell book, and made sure you said that you loved it.” Mal said this in the most monotone voice but it was evident that she was joking. 

Lonnie came up to me and squeezed my shoulders as she rested her head on my right shoulder, “You look absolutely beautiful, roomie.” Then out of no where Dude barked a quick, “I agree with the girls.” 

After a few more seconds of admiring my dress I was thrown into a chair in front of the main vanity in Mal and Evie’s room. “Time for makeup!” Lonnie clapped her hands and grabbed a palette to do my eye makeup, she ended up picking several colors that complimented my (E/C) eyes. While Evie beat my face for the Gods, Mal was working on my hair, making it look completely different from it’s everyday form. (Note: I have curly hair and I know people have diff. kinds of hair types so just imagine a cute ass look for your hair) My makeup was a natural beat, we didn’t go too full out because 1. It’s hot outside and 2. My dress was so vibrant that we didn’t want my face to compete. The three of them really pulled through for me and I was extremely grateful. I ran towards the three of them and threw my arms out for a group hug and the all complied as Evie shouted, “Not too tight! Don’t wrinkle her dress, wrinkles aren’t cute!” We laughed before I looked at the time, the date was in 10 minutes. 

“Thank you guys so much for your help and if you’re up for it, we can have a girl chat about the date.” I rushed out of the door and made my way through the campus and to the Enchanted Lake. My mouth dropped open as I was met with Carlos, a picnic basket, a blanket, and an insane amount of chocolate. I approached him and complimented the set up, “Carlos, this is absolutely amazing. I love it!” I sat down on the blanket but not before noticing a small blush on Carlos’s face. 

“I’m glad that you like it, my love.” He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug, “You look gorgeous tonight. I mean you look gorgeous all the time but like you’re just so cute and you got all done up and I could tell that you put in so much effort and you just look flawless and I should really stop talking now.” He rambled on and on until you put your hand over his mouth. “Thank you for the compliment, now let’s eat.”

Carlos’s POV

I was so nervous, she just looked so beautiful and she was all mine. It’s still so surreal and I find myself looking for constant reassurance that this is actually happening. I pulled the strawberries out of the basket and placed them next to the chocolate because it’s not a date if there isn’t chocolate covered strawberries. She immediately dipped one in chocolate and demanded that I opened my mouth and of course I followed directions. 

“I’m glad that I packed these.” I hummed in delight as (Y/N) stared at me with her big beautiful eyes. I gazed at the stars when I heard a giggle, “What’s so funny?” 

She came so close that I could feel her body heat and it was making my heart beat 10x faster. “You’ve got some chocolate right there.” Next thing you know, her tongue is licking the chocolate off of my face and I swear I died right then and there. Her thumb ever so graciously wiped away the little wet spot that she had left from licking me. (This sounds so sexual but like movies and shit idek)

We ate and talked and got to know each other more and more to the point where I knew everything about her. We then proceeded to lie down and look at the stars. “You see that right there? That’s Orion’s belt.” (Y/N) face lit up as the told me the story of Orion and all I could think of was that I hoped she looked the same way when she was talking about me. I began tangling my fingers in her hair and in return she snuggled farther into my chest. The stars were twinkling and it seemed as if they were listening to (Y/N) talk about them with delight and the subconsciously I whispered the one thing that I had planned to tell her later that night. “Did you just say that you love me?” (Y/N)’s head was not perched up on my chest and her eyes filled with amusement. 

“Did I say that? I don’t think I did. Hmmmm.” I pretended to be deep in thought as if I was racking my memory to see if I said I loved her.  “That’s too bad then because I was going to say that I love you too.” Her head was now turned away from me and I just wanted to get up and dance. “Yes, that is absolutely 100% what I said and you need to know because I am completely and utterly in love with you.” I then took out the ring I had made using the 3D printer and got down on one knee. 

“I really hope that you aren’t proposing right now because we’re kinda young and like I don’t want to break your heart but we aren’t ready for that and just-” I chuckled and shook my head, “It’s a promise ring, silly! It symbolizes my undying love for you and I’m going to marry you one day.” She bit back a smile before lowering herself to my level. She gave me her left hand and as I was placing the ring on her ring finger she said, “(Y/N) De Vil does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” I threw my head back in laughter before pulling her up with me. “(Y/N) (L/N), I hope that you know that we’re going to cotillion together.” (Y/N) put a finger on her chin and looked like she was thinking. 

“I’m going with Jay, not you.” I pulled her in even closer although I’m not sure that it was possible. 

“Are you now?” She nodded before resting her hands on my cheeks. “Maybe you could change my mind.” Her voice sounded like silk and everything about her drew me in. Those (E/C) eyes that I love so much fluttered shut and I rested my lips against her’s. She immediately took the lead and deepened the kiss, her passion showed me just how much she loved me. Her fingers tangled through my hair and I let out a moan which caused my cheeks to flush. (Y/N) smiled in to the kiss and it led to a make out session.  

“Of course I’m going to cotillion with you, dork. You’re my soulmate and the love of my life and I’d do anything for you.” I kissed the side of her head before telling her, “I’d give my life for you in an instant.” 

3rd Person POV

Cotillion passed and Carlos and (Y/N) had already been together for 8 months. You thought that Mal and Ben were the cutest couple on campus? You thought wrong because it was Carlos and (Y/N). Everyone adored the two of you together and the group was honestly planning your wedding already. Carlos had met (Y/N)’s parents and they loved the kid because he was nothing but an absolute sweetheart. The couple was often found encouraging one another and they were completely in love. As each Disney story ends, “They lived happily ever after.”

Enlighten Me

Pairing: Quicksilver x Reader

Wordcount: 1300

Warnings: possible swearing idek

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted some Peter so here y’all go lol

                                                   ~*~*~

January 11th, Lisbon, Portugal; Hot, arid summer and the smell of ginger and cloves; swimming in the sea and Latin letters drawn in the sand…the prickle of sun on bronzed skin and wind licking up your heels as you run…bright lights and languid nights spent trawling the streets of the city for an adventure you’d never find back home. Lisbon Portugal, and Y/N had never been this happy.

Not in a while, no...Everything seemed to come so much easier that month. Happiness, peace of mind, love (their bank accounts were filling up nicely, too). January, she remembered. Thirty one days of hedonistic pursuit, of travelling the world in search of a part of her that had seemingly been lost in all the late nights spent at the office and a hefty breakup that left her in pieces for two weeks. January. Hers. Forever.

Sitting on a pile of sand a few feet away from the ocean, Y/N watched the water crash onto land, push and pull and call for her to dive in. Hungry to swallow her. Greedy. She had already spent the entire day feeding the waters, but now she was tired, worn out, and all she wanted to do was watch. Her eyes followed the tide coming in. It breached into the sand, foamy edges that would retract but a few seconds later. The ocean was beautiful, that much she knew. Everything was beautiful, she’d found, if you looked hard enough. All it took was a keen eye; a keen eye most people didn’t have.

Up until a few months ago, she’d been blind like most people, too. Ignorant of what the wind whispered when it blew harshly through the streets, of what the birds’ songs meant, of what was written in the stars on a late, lonely night. Up until a few months ago, Y/N recalled, she’d been just as sightless as the rest of the world. Fresh out of college and working as an intern at a design company, driven by desire to someday be the head of the franchise. Hah—dreams of a little girl who refused to grow up. Looking back now, it was obvious. She should have seen it, her downfall, only she hadn’t.

Cut to now, with her newborn gift of sight, she’d be able to tell events before they happened, be able to prevent the heartache she’d experience back then.

At that moment a keen wind picked up as the waters gurgled, when a voice suddenly cut through her reverie.

“You alright?”

Y/N’s head whipped in the direction of the sound.

Peter.

Smiling at her unsurely, still shirtless and dusted with sand as he slowly approached her. Y/N smiled softly when she saw him jogging over.

“You look…sad.” He said as he sat down next to her. He was panting heavily, still a bit wet, a bit too-himself from the way his eyes glinted violently. His deep brown gaze darted over her face, searching. Silver hair hung around his face like a curtain, little strands poking out from behind his ears, tickling the tip of his nose.

Grey hair, a sign of wisdom. A testament to the world of his astuteness, hidden beneath a comical demeanor and stubbornness (God help them, he was stubborn) that she could see through. Peter Maximoff, a mutant, a friend to most. Recollection of how they’d met was a tangled mess of memories her life between college and working at the company; days spent in the school of the gifted—all fleeting memories, all barely decipherable.

Gaze trained on his, Y/N shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.” Peter leaned back in the sand with his hands propped under his head. “You look like you’re thinking, and what did I tell you about that? Brings a whole lotta bad.”

Y/N laughed then shook her head. “What are you, Aristotle? No, I’m just…I’m thinking about good stuff this time.”

This time.

“Like…?”

A silence. He was watching her, jovial eyes turned somber and waiting for a response.

She took in a deep breath, then…

“I look around me and I see….everything I never thought I would. I see the ocean, the sand—I feel it. I’ve been to more countries than I ever thought I’d go to and I’ve lived. Really lived…”

She turned to look at Peter, fondness swimming in her eyes.

“….all with you…because of you.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“You just don’t give yourself enough.”

“Maybe. Does it matter? I like to think that that’s something insignificant.”

Smiling, Y/N shook her head slowly, gaze never faltering. A swell of warmth flourished in her chest. Through her coursed cocktail of emotions she tried to grasp—happiness? Contentment? Love?—Maybe all of them. She couldn’t decipher it. She didn’t want to.

All she wanted was Peter, her Peter, who had opened her eyes all those months ago.

She shifted closer to him, straddling his lap and leaning down with their faces inches apart. Her hair fell like a curtain around them, shutting out the world, the greedy ocean lapping at the shore…Him. Peter….if it hadn’t been for him then January would have never been as memorable.

With a smile, the grey-haired boy chuckled and his hands found her waist. Y/N licked her lips. Leaned in closer. His fingers drew little symbols on her skin as he spoke.

“Peter…” She said, her hand gently cupping his face. “…Sweet, sweet Peter. Mine.”

“Yours.”

“Always?” She asked.

He nodded wordlessly.

Waves rushed onto the shore and drew back. The sky melted into a stretch of navy blue as the sun set, laced with purple and streams of faded clouds. In her chest Y/N felt it happen, the awakening, the final step to enlightenment—him. Here. With her. On a beach far, far away from both their past lives, tangled up with each other in a moment she wished she could freeze for future days.

Trailing nimble fingers along his cheek, her eyes bore into Peter’s. Y/N spoke softly.

“How long has it been since we left? It feels like ages.”

“Longer, probably. Who cares? Part of the fun of this journey is the moving ahead and never looking back. Don’t look back now.”

“I’m only asking.”

“Don’t.” He took her hands and laced them with his, holding them up on either side of her head. She smiled. Wide. God, she looked like an Angel hovering above him, cherubic features peering down at him. Beneath her. He was beneath her in every sense of the word; he wasn’t as perfect, he’d never be. Maybe that’s what made them so fit for each other.

“You know,” Peter started, drawing her hands closer in and then out. “I’m the fastest man alive…I can run around this entire country in less than three minutes. I can run to Egypt and back within the same hour and yet, whenever I’m around you,…I manage to feel like the whole world has slowed down just for us. Stuck in time. Huh, maybe we are.”

“Maybe you’re just moving so fast it feels so? Sound barrier and all that.”

“Now look who sounds like Aristotle...”

She laughed and nuzzled her nose into his neck. Felt the rumble of his chuckle. Relished it.

Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her in closer, trapped against him. Caged in his arms. His. He peered down at her from the slope of his nose. And maybe she didn’t mind being here, being so far away from home. And maybe Peter had become her new home, one she moved with from the East to Asia to the ends of the earth. With him everything felt harmonized and poised. In place. Always. Every moment with him was January, thirty one days of delectation fitted into a second and oh, wasn’t it sweet...

And as they lay on that beach, mouths lazily moving against each other, Y/N knew: she would never be blind again.

                                                  ~*~*~

I’m sorry if this is trash it was just sitting in my computer and I decided to upload it, but if you did like it, go ahead and like/reblog or follow to keep updated when I post more oneshots.

Thank you for reading!