#this is short n messy but alas

[melrodrigo]

favorite - t.c.

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a day of feeling useless, Tara’s the only one who can make you feel better.

Pairings: Slight Amber Freeman x Reader in the beginning, Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: Am I projecting? Maybe. Tara’s my bbg 🫶🏻

Amber

YN - Why do you only want me when you have nothing else to do?

You bite your lip as you hit send, swiping out the app as fast as you can to try and quell the feeling of regret you know is coming.

Your lover of sorts, Amber Freeman, had been acting weird lately.

You’re not sure what to call the two of you, best friends that kiss each other? friends with benefits? two buddies in a situationship?

All very accurate descriptions, you think as you laugh bitterly.

It had been weeks of bliss at first, with flirty comments, secret kisses, and love notes stashed in your locker.

But for the past few days, she’s been awful. Gone are the nights spent giggling together on your couch while you watch a movie, gone are the butterflies whenever you see her name pop up on your screen.

She’s quiet. It makes you uneasy.

At first, you tried to ignore it, think to yourself she must be busy.

She loves me, she’ll answer, you reason.

Nothing hurts more than being proven wrong.

A - I think we should stop talking.

YN- What? Why? Can’t we talk this out?

A - I wanted to tell you a couple of days ago in person but…I’m sorry. I just don’t like you anymore. I met someone else.

You blink back the tears already welling in your eyes. You shut your phone off, refusing to answer, part of you hoping she might beg for your forgiveness after seeing you upset.

Nothing.

Your chest heaves as the hole in your chest deepens.

How could she? After everything you’d been through together. Especially after the Ghostface attacks last year, you’d hoped she cared a little more.

You’d been the one to warn her, even. When she told you she had feelings for you, you’d made her promise that she swore they were true. You weren’t taking a chance on a ‘maybe’.

But alas, your moon-eyed perspective had affected your decision-making skills. She’d told you she loved you, and that she was going to be your girlfriend, and you had believed her.

You fall back onto your bed. Hands pressed to your forehead harshly as you think.

You pick up your phone once more, ignoring all thoughts that tell you this is a horrible idea, and call her up.

-

“Hey. Thanks for coming.” You tell Tara as you step back to let her in. She’s dressed in an oversized AC/DC t-shirt paired with gray sweatpants.

Her hair is slightly messy like she’s just woken up from a nap. You curse as you catch yourself thinking about how cute she looks.

“No problem.” She tells you without missing a beat, walking into your house and up to your room like it’s her second home.

You and Tara had a history.

All throughout grade school, you had the biggest crush on the brunette, but she never reciprocated. Not that you ever told her about it. Later, when both of you were in high school, she confessed that she liked you.

You were so confused between your feelings for Amber and for her back then, you ended up never giving her a clear answer. And after time, the two of you just started to drift away.

But you wouldn’t be able to say that the underlying feeling she was the one wasn’t always simmering within you.

Your feelings for Tara were something that could never be explained. Not even to your best friends over the years, who would hear endless rants about the girl.

She was just so, perfect.

Well- nobody was perfect; you knew that. She was always somewhat of a rebel throughout your school years. But you found her imperfections endearing, which only made her more human and in turn, more perfect to you.

It didn’t help that she also looked like an angel that had fallen from the skies.

In short, Tara Carpenter was an enigma. You’ve had crushes before, of course. But this one, you think will never go away. Whether you viewed her from a romantic or platonic lens, all you could feel was adoration. You were incredibly fond of the girl.

You snap out of your daze and follow her upstairs, closing the door behind you.

“So, you wanna tell me what this is about?” She says, not unkindly.

You play with the hairs on the nape of your neck as you answer her.

“I’ve just been feeling…sort of weird. I needed some company.” You tell her, somewhat awkwardly,

“And nobody else was free?” She prods, her eyes filling with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You look down shyly as you shake your head. “No, I wanted you to come.” You mumble, loud enough for her to hear.

You sneak a peek at her expression and relax once you see she’s smiling.

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve been missing you.” She says, grinning.

Her words make you feel like a weight’s been taken off your shoulders. Everything’s normal. Everything’s good.

You relax, moving over to join her on the bed.

“I missed you too.” You say.

She doesn’t miss a beat before she reaches for your TV remote and pushes herself further up your bed. She takes her hair out of the bun it was in and whips out her glasses.

She never likes to wear it because she thinks it makes her look nerdy, but you think it’s the cutest thing.

“You sure are making yourself at home.” You murmur, earning a soft slap from the girl.

“Hey! This is how you’re supposed to experience a movie.“ She says, nudging herself into your bedsheets.

You scoff as you join her and place your leg over her own.

“Who said we were going to watch a movie?” You challenge, raising a brow at her.

She shrugs, unserious. “I figured I’d take the lead. You need a distraction, and you weren’t doing anything…so.”

You nudge her with your shoulder one more time before settling in beside her, not willing to debate.

She scrolls on your TV a little while longer before you nearly leap out of your seat as you see your favorite movie pass.

You open your mouth to force her to pick it, but she buts in before you can get a word out.

“Yes, I know it’s your favorite movie. I’m putting it on now, shush.” She teases, smirking slightly.

You relent without a word.

Halfway through the movie, you can tell Tara’s getting sleepy. Her eyes droop and her head is falling further into the pillow.

You bite back a chuckle and pull out your phone, ready to take a photo that’ll surely embarrass the brunette.

She stirs in her sleep when the flash goes out, looking up at you groggily.

You panic and shove the phone underneath you, moving over to do anything to distract her. You don’t have enough time to think, you surge forward and press your lips to her forehead.

Her eyes widen, no doubt wondering what the hell you’re doing.

A forehead kiss? Yeah, that isn’t suspicious at all!

She’s still still under you, blinking slowly.

“Go back to sleep Tar.” You mumble against her skin, using a nickname you haven’t called her in ages.

It works though. You feel her physically relax and in the next few minutes, she’s fast asleep against you once again, this time with her arm wrapped around your waist.

You feel your cheeks get hot and thank the gods that nobody can see you.

You watch as the credits of the movie finally roll, and you feel the tiresome events of the day finally catch up to you.

You look down at Tara, studying her features. You want to reach out and touch her freckles, but you resist the urge.

Whatever Tara Carpenter was to you didn’t matter today, you reason. The only thing that matters is that she’s here, and she’s made you feel better than you have in months. Friend or something more, she’ll always be the one to brighten your day.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #scream vi #mine

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Peppermint Kisses

Harry Potter x gn!reader, fluff

Summary: lazy mornings with harry result in soft kisses and the taste of toothpaste.

W/C: 522

y/n woke up to the sound rustling of bedsheet covers and light snores. it wasn't every day that they were able to wake up guilt-free of sleeping in, but alas the long night before allowed them to simply enjoy the late start of their morning.

''harry," they shook the sleeping boy next to them, "wake up."

the boy on the left side of the bed only mumbled in response, rolling over and hugging his bedsheets closer to him.

"it's 12pm. we are going to miss lunch if you don't get up."

after a long-stretched period of pulling and tugging at the comforter, the boy finally sat up from his bed. he looked around in confusion for a few minutes, only to find his memory of the night before to come back to him all at once.

"remind me again why i agreed to stay up with you last night." he groaned whilst stretching his arms out, revealing a lower part of his stomach which left the young student blushing.

"because you love me." y/n smiled. ruffling his messy hair before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"that i do." he responded, leaning in to give his partner a kiss -- but before he was able to, y/n placed a hand to his lips and cringed.

"no," they got up from their bed and started walking to the bathroom, leaving the boy behind only for him to be confused and upset at the event that just occurred, "if you want to kiss me then you have to brush your teeth first. morning breath is gross."

harry groaned once more and started complaining. "but we've been together for years y/n. you've seen enough of me to where this shouldn't matter!" he followed behind them to the bathroom and wrapped his arms around their waist. putting his head on his partner's shoulder and admiring them in the mirror.

"no exceptions." y/n giggled.

he watched as y/n picked up his toothbrush and put a glob of toothpaste on it. handing it over to harry, the boy accepted it knowing that this was the only way to get what he wanted.

the pair brushed their teeth in unison, occasionally laughing at each other as toothpaste ran down their chins. after 5 minutes, they both spat out into the sink and wiped their mouths on the sleeves of their sweaters.

harry turned to face his partner, moving the hair out of their face and behind their ear before speaking. "now may i kiss you?"

y/n looked at harry for a moment before answering, "of course."

the boy brushed his thumb underneath his partners chin and leaned in. it was a short kiss, but it was sweet and simple. enough to leave him satisfied. once pulling out, he licked his lips and softly chuckled.

"what is it?" y/n asked, confused as to whether or not they did something wrong. "is there something on my face?"

"no no," he gave y/n another quick peck on the lips before going in to hold their frail figure, "you just taste like peppermint."

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x you

[bosbas]

Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!

December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),

I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.

As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.

Yours, B

You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail. 

Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university. 

It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term. 

Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford. 

And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season. 

This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship. 

However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for. 

But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days. 

---

August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B

Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.

Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"

You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort. 

Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far." 

Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands. 

Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."

"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him. 

"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.

"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."

"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information. 

"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.

"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go. 

Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."

"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"

"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage. 

---

January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B

As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.

As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year. 

Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did. 

You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you. 

Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face. 

"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally. 

You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky. 

"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat. 

"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.

---

September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B

Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention. 

You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book. 

"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!" 

In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.

The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.

Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch. 

He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"

"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan. 

Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.

"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued. 

Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.

You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."

---

May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B

You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden. 

As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table. 

"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you. 

"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand. 

Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet. 

Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.

—

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Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton x best friend!reader #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #love in bloom #love in bloom: writing

[deftmeat]

‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ 彡 ‎ ‎ ‎‎ stepbrother!peter parker obsessed with you

NSFW ( mostly just a self-indulgent au )

• reposted since tumblr hid it •

w a r n i n g : contains non con and perv!peter

before tony stark had settled down with pepper potts, he had been with another woman. but after a messy divorce and an unwanted child, he decided to cut off all contact with her.

that woman was your mother. you had never met your father until she handed you off to him one day in the chilly autumn of new york.

after turning 18, she had decided to kick you out and dump you at the very front doors of stark tower.

with loose, messily packed luggage and fat tears staining your face, a man with short curly hair opened the door to you.

of course, later you learned his name was happy and tony trusted him greatly. happy also seemed to willfully obey his every order so you assumed there was a lot of trust and history between them. but you also wondered if tony ever told anyone about you.

it didn’t surprise you though, when you were brought up to tony, escorted by happy, that your father had no idea who you are. and when you explained yourself, he acted shocked you existed.

that’s how you ended up being employed by tony himself, starting out more as an errand runner or assistant to his incessant requests.

you couldn’t lie and say you enjoyed the first few months helping out around the avengers tower and catering to people who intimidated you- but after two years you had come to form closer relationships with those on the team and were more than just a nuisance.

but there was one other person you spent a lot of time with.

peter parker.

you were basically the same age as him, both the same generation and shared the exact same humour. your friendship with peter was nothing like the ones you possessed with the other, older avengers.

your texts between each other consisted of memes and spammed word vomit. peter spilled his secrets and his fears to you while you comforted him and listened. he didn’t see you any differently despite being aware of your hidden relation to his boss, respecting you enough to never bring it up.

there were times where you’d catch him staring at you for too long or you’d accidentally touch each other and he’d linger… just a little bit. you only brushed it off that he was clingy and touch starved.

alas, peter knew sometimes you would feel embarrassed of the fact you were tony’s kid especially when tony never liked to share details about himself to his coworkers. a few of them had been told too but treated you like you weren’t the daughter of one of the most narcissistic men they knew.

another reason you got along well with everyone. so much that you had been silently promoted to aiding in missions and able to train side by side with peter and the rest of the avengers.

when sparing with peter, he’d purposefully sweep your legs out from under you, only to collect your wrist in both of his hands and slam them to the mat, his thighs locked on either side of your hips and his face unnecessarily lowered to hover over yours.

you found most of your sessions under him and while it frustrated you that he beat you every single time, you couldn’t help but notice the look on peter’s face when he did trap you to the floor.

you also noticed how as soon as he got off of you, peter was quick to end the sparring match- practically running out of the gym, his pace fast and posture hunched over. maybe peter was just weird in general?

but he couldn’t help it. seeing you under him, looking vulnerable and so damn pretty like that… his cock swelled with blood and his balls ached with the need to breed you. every. single. time.

the feeling didn’t go away, even after may had died. despite the fact peter had become a mess, you were right there, picking up the pieces that used to be him and taping them back together as best as you could.

that’s when tony had made the executive decision to take peter in. he reasoned that he was already like a father figure to the poor boy, nothing would change. tony obviously had a soft spot for him.

at least, that’s what he said to convince you. and you couldn’t turn peter away when everyone he loved was no longer in his life.

so he moved into the building, took all of his belongings and clothes with him. peter put university on hold while he figured things out. you were understanding and tony- supportive. that’s when he could see the resemblance between you two. you both cared for him. and he suggested to become apart of your family.

of course tony took it the wrong way and surprised peter by adopting him, not even telling you beforehand. you were both speechless but for different reasons.

when peter stroked his leaking dick at night, giving into his fantasies of pushing your head down and dragging his red sensitive tip across your slit and deep inside your soaked walls; he could do so freely. now? now he couldn’t.

he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. peter was definitely frustrated at the new dynamic between you and him but he found it as an excuse to freely walk into your room whenever he wanted. why not? he was your step brother now.

it creeped you out at first, how he would sometimes silently slip past your doorway and make himself at home, occasionally starting up random conversations as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

eventually you got used to it. sometimes leaving your room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom. you could trust peter not to break anything. he was such a sweet and quiet guy.

and that’s when he would take his chance, going through your drawers and stealing little things of yours.

the sheer panties your best friend from high school had given you for your birthday. a photo of you in a revealing bikini from a trip to the beach when you used to live with your mom. one of the many bottles of body spray that littered your vanity. lotion that you used all the time. another pair of underwear that were less appealing but you wore all the time when you wanted to dress comfortably.

peter even started to lay on your bed on his stomach as soon as you left the room and grind his hips down, rubbing his jean clad bulge against the soft blanket you slept under. he’d stick his face down into your pillow and hump your mattress, veiny hands fisting any fabric he could grab and pulling it closer to his nose, smelling you while he thought of raw dogging your puffy pussy in your own bed.

just when he was on the verge of cumming in his pants, you’d always walk in and he’d feign innocence. pretending he wasn’t just dry humping your bed like a greedy rabbit. you were never the wiser.

you noticed certain things of yours started to go missing little by little until you barely had things to wear or use. you assumed it was the dryer eating your entire wardrobe so you complained to tony and he gave you his card to buy an entire new one.

he didn’t want you going alone though so he made peter go with you. you weren’t entirely thrilled since had he had been glued to your hip almost constantly as of recently but you went along with it, knowing that if you didn’t agree, tony wouldn’t let you go at all.

so when you get to the small shop on the busy corner, peter wouldn’t stop suggesting pieces for you to buy or even try on. you found that they were either way too revealing or borderline inappropriate for him to request. but he wouldn’t stop insisting, going as far as to shove a whole armful of things into you and pushing you to the changing room very eagerly.

“i’m just trying to help.” he told you before closing the door behind you once you fully stepped inside. it didn’t help that every two minutes he’d knock and ask if you had finished, that he wanted to see what they looked like on you.

you obliged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. you were exposed- not to mention in front of peter. your step brother.

you left the small room in the first thing he had shown you, a size too small t-shirt and extremely tiny booty shorts. but peter seemed to hype you up, smiling enthusiastically. his eyes held a glossed over look while his gaze slowly went down your body, taking in how your skin would stick out and show where it probably shouldn’t be.

“okay turn around.” he spoke abruptly, making your face twist into one of uncertainty. he shook his head and merely spoke down to you like you were playing dumb; “come on, i just wanna see what the back looks like.”

huffing out a sigh, you reluctantly shifted your weight and spun to show your backside.

when you did though- you swore you heard a camera clicking but when you whipped your head around to catch whoever had taken your picture without consent.. no one was there.

“peter..?” you meekly stared around, looking for the boy but he had disappeared as if in thin air. the only other people you saw were two employees reorganizing hangers across the wall.

your stomach twisted and you shrunk back into the changing room, not bothering to try the other pieces on and put your own clothes back on, feeling anxious that someone was watching you.

as soon as you went to open the door, peter was standing right in front of the entrance- making you jump and drop the large pile of things you were holding.

“woah, sis. calm down. it’s just me.” he laughed it off, giving you that boyish smile, peter’s eyes never leaving yours. you felt your face flush and apologized- pushing past him to put the exposing clothes back on the racks where he had gotten them from.

ever since then, you felt violated. you avoided peter. you started to ask FRIDAY to lock your door with an access code. you weren’t entirely sure it had been him but he was starting to freak you out even after that day.

you’d wake up multiple nights in a row, in a cold sweat, absolutely sure you could feel someone else had been inside your room besides yourself.

you’d place your hoodie down on the couch to grab a drink, coming back to find it gone.

peter would stay up for two hours after you went to bed, wanting to be certain you had fallen asleep before typing in the access code to your room- watching you put it in while he stuck to the ceiling one day.

he’d quietly shuffle in and see your phone beside your pillow and your face scrunched up while you dreamt. he’d whisper your name just to double check then crept over to your bed, hovering down to stare.

the next thing he knew, he was fucking hard- just by looking at you. that’s what you did to him and you didn’t even know it. his step sister always teasing him, purposefully taunting him with something that was forbidden for peter.

but he bottled up his frustration, struggling to push down his jeans as silently as possible. the slight sound of denim rubbing against itself was drowned out as his pants clung just below his knees. he hadn’t worn a belt for this very reason. wanted easy access while keeping you unaware of his presence.

peter bit his lip when his warm palm finally made contact with his cock, the angry tip already leaking and spilling down to weave through his fingers. “mmshit..” he choked out, careful not to be too loud when he started to stroke himself. his eyes were locked onto your sleeping face, his tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip with desire. desire for you.

since he couldn’t have you, this was the best he could do, flicking his wrist to increase the speed that his hand jerked his dick, his cheeks wearing a dark flush the faster he went.

“yeah.. wanna breed my lil’sis.. make you mine, baby..” peter muttered, leaning forward so that his cock was right beside the pillow, the back of his hand almost ghosting your nose every time he moved up the entirety of his throbbing length.

he had only touched himself above you one other time but every single night since he saw how your ass looked in those small shorts- he couldn’t help but visit you while you were unconscious, whispering about how badly he wanted to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around his dick, about how good he bets you taste. but he was growing restless, as he confided in your passed out form- he needed more.

which lead to two nights ago. peter couldn’t help but jack off while sitting at the chair in front of your desk in the corner, listening to your soft breaths, one your previously used panties stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet - forcing peter to spurt cum all over his hand and bare thighs.

tonight was no different but he was feeling bolder, the aggressive animalistic demand his mind screamed at him to paint your face and mark you as his. to see how hot you looked while his warm sticky seed dripped down your lips and chin and onto your sheets, ruining them. ruining you.

a low groan rumbled in his chest when you shifted, your face now just under his slapping balls. peter almost came at the sight of your unconscious submission, your eyes fluttering and your lips just barely parted. ready to swallow the load he could feel about to explode from his swollen cock head.

his other hand not gripping his dick, shot out to claw at your head board to steady himself from falling on top of you, his body tingling with pure heat. he could barely stand, his knees buckling and the strong muscles in his pale thighs rippling with the effort to maintain his stance.

he was sure he could last another few minutes but when you moved your arms under your blanket, the sudden action pulled it down, revealing the loose tank top you had chosen to wear to bed.

peter’s eyes flitted down to your tits, and upon noticing you hadn’t worn a bra, your nipples stiff and pressing into the fabric- he let out a loud moan, massive ropes of white cum pouring out of his cock.

a few spurts hit your bare collarbones, your chest, the soft blanket draped over you and of course your pretty face. he watched as the thick goo caught on the tip of your nose and bottom lip- gravity causing it to run inside your mouth and down your cheeks onto the pillow.

“fuuuck.” peter cursed at the sight of his cum soaked step sister, all laid out for him.

when you felt something hot splatter your skin you flinched. it had made you stir. blinking your messy eyelids, trying to get whatever it was out of your eyes- you were fully awakened when you heard that familiar click of a camera.

rising your hand up to drag your numb fingers across your face, whatever was on it stuck to your digits and webbed between them. then you noticed it was also in your mouth so you leaned forward and let it drizzle out past your lips and land on your sheets. then you saw movement in the darkness and your unfocused gaze lifted to just barely be able to make out what it was. or who it was.

your body ran cold- you were first met with a cock that was still strikingly hard, leaking and pointing right at you, followed by hair framing the base of the shaft, accompanied by a small trail of the same hair up to below his bellybutton.. peter’s face above it all.

he lowered his phone with clouded eyes, panting heavily and cheeks flushed. his eyes on you.

“…pete?”

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #stepbrother!peter parker #step siblings #x reader #smut #fanfic #marvel #marvel smut #female reader #peter parker x female reader #avengers #headcannons #best friends #self insert #creative #writing

[azzumei]

2, plus 4.

-------------

a/n: no, no just imagine. JUST LOOKOK

what if..

xiao having quadruplets which are actually his siblings reincarnations?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

genre: fluff

summary: a really cute and wholesome family

warnings: mentions of sex, giving birth, babies.

[name] indicates you, afab reader, xiao being strict ig, reader is immortal, kinda ooc xiao, SHORT BUT PLS BARE WITH ME IM NOT THAT CREATIVE AND IM NEW ::cry::

wc: over 100

the first time you met was the aftermath of a strong blizzard in the local villages.

you watched him, as he ate the snow from the blood stained ground, the sun shining upon you two.

his clothes, torn apart, wounds uncovered, scattered around his body and probably infected, his hair as messy as (your lif-) your cats litter box.

you approach him slowly, then you sat down right in front of him.

you gave him a piece of warm, fluffy bread that you had in your basket. He hesitated to take it at first but really, hunger was the main problem here. (like my mom in my lif-)

he ate it in a millisecond. (yum ig) then you offered to fix his appearance in your house that was just 2 blocks away.

he didnt cooperate at first, but when you offered a certain dish (which is almond tofu btw) that is as sweet as the dreams he, and similiar beings allegedly eat. (in your knowledge of course)

then he finally accepted.

you gave him a pair of shoes you were carrying in your bag so he can walk properly. (dora is that you)

when you both got there, you immediately gave him a bath (dw u didnt look at his penpen), fix his hair, gave him a new pair of clothes and make him satisfy his hunger (and ofcourse how could u forget the almond tofu?)

you gave him a room to sleep in, and tons of blankets.

he was comfortable, but he knew that he had to go.

when you woke up he just vanished.

you thought you probably finally made a friend, but they always just had to go.

---------------⠀♡

the second time you saw him was when he was training with his siblings, you didnt recognize him at first but you got there.

you saw that they needed a medic to assist the yakshas in the wounds that they receive in battles. good thing you practiced medicine.

you worked your way up to make him recognize you, and to atleast talk with him.

alas, you got what you wanted.

''you seem familiar, have we...met before?'' he asked.

''you have! do you remember me, alatus?''

''...''

''....?''

''i believe that i dont go by that name, atleast not anymore. so it seems that i have met you far back.''

''oh right! my name is [name]. do you now remember?'

''..i do remember you. i thank you for giving me...hospitality that day.''

''no problem, so uh, shall i continue treating you, general?''

''yes, yes you may.''

from that day onward, you both were talking everytime he went to your medic tent.

but nothing really lasts forever, yes?

you were rushing the civillians out of the blood painted space,

trying to treat the wounded as you are able.

the bloody screams haunted your ears, the blood splatters on your uniform and tainted hand in red, gave you terror.

your friend, the general alatus. being tortured by karmic debt, killing him slowly.

his siblings, all covered in blood.

you just had to.

you had to save him even if it means not seeing him

ever again.

⠀♡⠀♡⠀♡⠀♡⠀♡⠀♡⠀♡

now here you are, still haunted by that day, but doing quite well.

delivering herbs to baizhu..

doing commissions for extra money..

yeah but thats not it.

there was something wrong.

you had a goal, but you cant really make it up.

oh.

you want see him again.

you need him.

you searched for him day and night

and you finally got a clue, he apparently resided in wangshu inn.

you greeted verr goldet, then asked her if you could borrow the kitchen for a second. she allowed it, and you sprinted right onto the ingredient storage.

grabbing the ingredients for almond tofu, you started to make it.

once you were done, you didnt waste a single breath of going to the balcony.

you called his name and offered almond tofu.

and there he was, right in front of you.

''what do you need, morta-'' he froze. he looked at you up and down.

you were familiar to him, he knows that you both had a bond.

''general alatus, its me. do you remember?''

''of course i remember you, medic.''

then you started a friendship again. (wow its so fast)

strangers to friends, and now

friends to lovers.

you both were just close friends in mortals eyes.

but only if they knew what you both do in your shared bedroom.

xiao always asked during heated times or any part of the day actually, ''why would you be with me? why would you keep being here, by my side. knowing what i did, and my karmic debt-''

you always gave an answer that gave him warmth.

''because i would never even leave a wonderful being like you, i love you, xiao. so dont ever think about that.''

so uh anyway

but as xiao believed, he thought that you both should do those intimate, and close things as a married couple, to follow tradition and courtesy.

so you both wed each other.

xiao's proposal was sweet. short but meaningful.

your ring finger, now decorated with a jade band.

its been about.. 21 years since you have wed, 13 years as mere partners, 450 years since you were both just friends.

you both have spent a lifetime together, maybe longer than that i suppose.

you thought, that maybe life would be a lot more cheerful if you both had children.

you first presented the idea to xiao, he was hesitant at first but he agreed (he would do anything for you.)

so you gave it a try.

at the 3rd try, you were finally with child..ren..?

somehow, xiao sensed that there were more than just one.

they were not one, but four.

if you think xiao would be so overprotective over you even before you got pregnant, then you were wrong. he is 2x. wait no 10x even more protective than before.

when you just want to cook something for yourself, he stops you and he always said

''request the chef for some food, no need to make it yourself. its dangerous.''

''IM NOT PORCELAIN-''

*vanishes*

''...''

''YOU FUCKER-''

and when you want to go out to get some fresh air he is ALWAYS beside you.

''xiao, dear, can i just go out to the garden for a bit? its not like there are monsters around right?, plus you can clear them out in no time!''

''no. if you are willing to go out i will be beside you.''

but dw after your hours of scolding he finally accepts and just watches over you.

⠀✦⠀✦⠀✦⠀✦⠀✦

when your due date arrived, you both were just gazing upon the moon on the balcony.

the starlit sky being so beautiful, children playing happily, grass and flowers waving..

it was so peaceful.

then you asked:

''love, what names shall we give our children?''

''..im not good with names, i could ask mora- i mean zhongli to give some suggestions.''

''hmmm... since there are four of them, shall we give them the names of your siblings?''

''...''

''do you think it is a bad idea?--''

''no, no. I think its...wonderful.''

you both wrapped your arms in eachother,

while you notice something was kind of...

a watery sensation?-

oh.

''xiao, i think my water just broke.''

''whAT.''

--------------------------

and there he was panicking.

what if something happened to you? or what if something happened to your children?

what if-

the sounds of new born babies crying occupied his ears.

and he was relieved.

''giving birth is tough-...they tore through my fucking pus- i mean what can i expect...the perks of giving birth..''

''love, get some rest. ill look after them for you.''

2 twin girls, and 2 twin boys.

huh, what a coincidence.

fin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

a/n ; SORRY THIS WAS SO FUCKIGN SHORT I RAN OUT OF IDEAS but dont worry, i will make a fic about how they grew up, and how they are. anyway, thank you @c3lest14 for being my beta reader! and thank you for the wonderful art that was inspired by [name] in this fic:D

the art btw: (its so gorg)

ok ok goodbye every1<3 have a nice day

#genshin x reader #genshinimpact #genshin imagines #genshin comfort #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #xiao x reader #xiao x fem!reader #alatus #adeptus xiao #liyue #travellingvstar☆ #fucking sobs #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshinxreader #genshin impact #xiao x pregnant reader

[puddle-nerd]

Golden Afternoon

Summary: Just two best friends enjoying the sunshine and a good book. (slight Lo’ak/Human Reader)

Prompt #1 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Na'vi Language, Na'vi & Human Interactions, Friends, Secret Crush

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains

Ikran – also called “Mountain Banshees”, they are large, dragon-like aerial predators often tamed by tribes of Na’vi for thousands of years for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war

Uniltìranyu – translated to dream-walker in the Na’vi language, it is another term meaning for genetically engineered human/Na’vi-hybrid bodies, designed to serve as a remotely controlled vessel for a human mind

AO3 Link

“Hey, ready to go, Mamas?”

You looked away from your self-appointed art project of redecorating the walls of your private bunk within the human compound and grinned up at the younger son of Jake Sully who was – unfortunately for him – grounded once again for going out with Spider and doing something stupid and reckless. So, with no flying and no access to his best male friend for the next two weeks, that meant you more or less had him all to yourself. Not that you were complaining in the slightest. You had had a crush on him for the last three years since you turned eleven and it didn’t look to be going away any time soon. “Yeah,” you agreed, putting your paintbrush into the dirty cup of water so it wouldn’t solidify. Again. He squinted, stepping into your bedroom and peered closely at the scene you were painting on your metallic wall just for the hell of it. “Am I dressed okay?”

The Na’vi hybrid glanced over your outfit of light blue overall shorts and a white tee shirt and nodded. Then turned his gaze back onto what you had been working on. “You’re getting good,” he complimented and you beamed up at him, your cheeks turning rosy as you muttered back a shy ‘thank you’. You shuffled off your messy bed and located your boots and the socks you wanted to wear with them and slid them on – not in that order, though. “Oh, hey, bring the book.”

You grabbed the old novel that had been republished about some sixty years prior back on Earth and followed him out of your room and to the nearest exit of the compound, grabbing a mask in the airtight antechamber as he put his nitrogen mask back on the proper hook. Once it was secured in place upon your face, he opened the vestibule door and you stepped outside into the beautiful world of Pandora. You were always in awe of the world you had been born on and sometimes wished that you could breathe its air as easily as Lo’ak could. Alas, you were fully human and Norm had told you creating you an Avatar was out of the question until you were at least eighteen years of age. Hormones, he cited, which was bull shit but since you were just a kid, then there wasn’t really anything you could do about it until then. Besides, it was only another three years, seven months, and five days away. But who was counting?

The Na’vi hybrid rolled his golden eyes as he looked back over his shoulder and took in your expected look of awe. He reached down and scooped you up, laughing as you squeaked. Expertly, he moved you to sit on his shoulders while you carefully handled his neural queue so you didn’t accidentally sit on it.

“Careful, Mamas,” he cautioned you, as he did every time. “Sensitive, remember?”

You hummed your agreement, carefully draping the black braid over his shoulder to rest down his lean chest. With you now settled upon his shoulders, he took off, being able to move much faster than he would have if he had let you walk. You were nowhere near as fast as Spider was who was now reaching six feet tall at sixteen years of age so it made sense for Lo’ak to carry you. Plus, without you struggling to keep up, you could take in the scenery a lot better. Just like you liked to do.

Thinking of ages led you to consider upcoming birthdays.

“Hey, Lo,” you inquired, running your fingers idly through his braids as you continued to gaze at Eywa’s beautiful world. He grunted, letting go one of your calves briefly so he could get himself over a log that was surely your height. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? Have you thought about what you wanted? For your birthday?”

He paused and his ears twitched, tickling the insides of your knees as they did so. Then he shrugged, chuckling as you yelped as the movement threatened to topple you. His firm grip on your calves proved he had you steady, though. “I really just want to pass my Iknimaya,” he muttered, voice going flat. “It’s so embarrassing that I got thrown off the cliff. Neteyam did it his first try! Heck, even Dad did it his first try and he was a uniltìranyu at the time!” You shushed your best friend gently and laid your cheek atop his head, rubbing your face soothingly over his braids. He calmed, adding a quiet, “Sorry. It’s just… I’m not perfect like him and I swear Dad just constantly looks at me in disappointment.” He sighed and sniffed, going quiet for a while, just allowing you to continue petting him comfortingly. Then his ears twitched and he paused, asking, “Could you make those chocolate chip cookies again? A whole batch just for me?” You grinned, retorting, “As long as you don’t eat them all in one sitting and complain about a stomach ache later.” He huffed and nuzzled his temple into your knee, replying, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, nag.” “I nag because I care,” you countered. He squeezed your calves in a silent acknowledgement of your words and finally decided to stop next to a pond. Drawing you up and off his shoulders, he let you settle on the lush grass before he flopped onto his back and smiled up at you. Drawing out the ragged book, you settled yourself against his side and opened it to where the bookmark lay. Clearing your throat, you open my mouth and begin to read aloud as you have every day since Lo’ak’s most recent grounding, silently thinking to yourself that Lo’ak enjoyed the main character (despite her being a human female) because she was secretly just as much as an outcast as he felt most days, being “Divergent” and all. “Chapter twenty-one: the door to the Pit closes behind me, and I am alone. I have not walked this tunnel since the day of the Choosing Ceremony…” You continued to read through the chapter in the golden afternoon sunlight and was about to start the next one when Lo’ak suddenly let out a yawn behind you and you realized he was starting to fall asleep. You put the bookmark back into place and turned against Lo’ak’s stomach, leaning against him and just admiring his sleepy face. He mumbled, “I’m awake.” He immediately yawned widely, revealing his sharp canines. “Uh huh,” you teased. “Don’t fall asleep out here. You’ll be thanator chow in no time.” He snorted but pushed himself up and rubbed at his face. “Guess I should get you back,” he commented. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” You smiled and nodded, secretly hoping he was enjoying spending all the time he did with you as you did with him.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 1,147

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

#𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 #avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #human reader #loak #loak sully #lo'ak sully #lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #loak x reader

[rustboxstarr]

🎻You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me🎻

Pairings: Eddie Munson x UndiagnosedAutistic!PlusSize!ViolinPlayer!Orchestra!Harrington!Reader (Goddamn thats a lot)

Plot: When Dustins 15th birthday comes up Eddie is set out on a mission to get Steve to help. Unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve has a younger sister, a very strange, very mean sister. There's something about her, he needs to understand how she became to be so different from her brother, so he's set out on his next mission to get the answers to his questions.

Summary: Dustin receives his surprise party and Eddie is getting on you last nerve.

Chapter warnings: Swearing, use of Y/N, (Read series masterlist for storys warnings, tropes and Reader description, dw they're not major just a few)

Wordcount: 3.1k

A/N: I've decided to do short chapters, for some reason ? Whatever, more idk expens? Thats not the word..

Love yas!

Check out my other works! Series Masterlist

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When Monday came around Eddie chanced a glance at you. He’d spotted you, sat alone at a table near the exit to the busy cafeteria, picking at your food with headphones covering your ears -headphones disturbing the already messy hair atop your head- no doubt connected to a walkman that played classical music, he saw you, for the first time, properly. He was only a few feet away and finally he got to see your face. That frown was still there, resting over your features like a mask, a border for people not to cross, but you didn't look sad or upset in the slightest. 

With your head down bobbing only slightly to the music he got the opportunity to look at you. If he didn’t know you he would never have guessed you played the violin, you definitely didn't look the part, just as he’d thought when he first heard about it. Slightly baggy jeans hugging your thick thighs, rolled up at the cuff to stop you from stepping on the hem with your red dirty Vans, a purple striped t-shirt that was pulled down to cover your round stomach. He’d never really thought about how someone with your hobbies would look or tend to dress, but as he saw you he felt like you were misplaced in your world of classical sonatas, and ancient methods of creating music, it felt naturally like you would be a very serious person, granted he didn't know you, you may very well be a serious person but he would have thought you dressed smart, proper as if always professional, with your back straight and stiff, not hunched over like you were now. 

You had only seen him once, and you clearly hadn’t bothered to greet him in any way, as he thought back to the interaction you hadn’t even spared a glance his way, was it appropriate for him to go say hi? Would you even recognise him? As he pondered over his thoughts, back and forth, considering the possibility that it would be weird, or awkward you tasted a spoonful of the questionable goo on your plate and pulled a face. Just as Eddie decided he would go say hi, maybe ease you into feeling more welcome in the halls of highschool, you pushed your chair back from the table. Dirty vans firm on the linoleum as the chair scraped slightly beneath you. Eddie had barely gotten the chance to lift a finger before he saw you pick up your plate and walk off. 

He felt slightly deflated at his missed opportunity, there was something about you that was intriguing, whether it was that constant unexplainable frown, your choice of clothing, the fact that you played the violin or was Steve Harringtons sister he didn't know, but there was something about you that made him want to understand why you were the way you were, but alas he missed his opportunity. 

–

It was obvious you stayed out of everyone's way and kept to the standard of being invisible when he didn't see you again till Wednesday afternoon. He was currently making his way to fourth period, with time to spare he moasied down the hall to the other side of the building. He laid eyes on you again, rooting through what he assumed was your locker, similar clothing hung over your figure as a charcoal gray, distressed messenger bag clung to your shoulder. 

This was his chance, his chance to introduce himself and get an insight to how you were as a person, so he took it. He stopped near you, sidestepping to avoid bashing into a group of cheerleaders he arrived at your locker. He wasn't sure what to do or say so he opted for standing next to you, awaiting your acknowledgement of him in your vicinity. Nervousness bubbled up in his throat as he stood awkwardly, waiting, and waiting. You, however, paid him no mind to him whatsoever, pulling out a textbook and slipping it into your bag. Finally, after what felt like forever, you closed your locker and stood up straight. You looked at him, he looked at you, you said nothing. He felt a sense of unease as you stared up at him, not budging in your set features depicting a frown. 

“Hi” he shyly opened up the conversation. He had expected you to greet him back, but no such luck, all you did was raise your eyebrows at him, as if he'd said something extremely stupid. “Uh.. I’m Eddie” Steve was right, you were fucking unapproachable. 

“I didn’t ask” your stare was unwavering, pinning him to the ground, despite him being 6 feet and 5 inches tall and you only at 5 feet 7 inches he felt intimidated, as if you had all the power, in a relationship that wasn't even there. 

“Oh, ha ha” he chuckled nervously “Um” he wasn't sure how to answer that “Well uh, we briefly met at Steve’s, I was in his kitchen when you came home, on Friday” 

“So?” still your piercing glare felt like it was staring into his soul. “Well I uh, Ijust wanted to say hi” he explained. “Listen man-” man? he had never once heard a girl refer to him that way in slang, granted, he only knew a few “- I’m really not interested in getting to know any of Steve's loser friends” you spoke. 

“I’m not a friend of Steve’s” for some reason he felt slightly insulted that you would ever be under that impression, that, he, Eddie Munson who was the way he was, dressed the way he dressed and did the things he did would be friends with Steve “The Hair” Harrington. “Yeah, well makes no difference, I don't want to get to know you either way” before Eddie had even the slightest chance to respond to that, you spun around and walked off, down the corridor and out of sight. 

Eddie had experience with people who didn't want to talk to him, he was hated by more people than not but they were boring, basic people, you were far from that, a freak if he were to go by this town's standards, and he didn't even do anything to you! He was perfectly polite, a little nervous, ok a lot nervous but still polite!

No wonder you didn't have friends if that's how you acted everytime someone even spoke a word to you.

Despite all this, being extremely annoyed at your rude way of speaking to him he was still fucking intrested in getting to know you! And he wouldn't let down, he had to befriend you and understand what can create such a strange person, he needed to understand. 

– 

Friday night September the 6th was the evening of Dustin's surprise party, which had been decided to be held at Steve's house, a fact that was in advantage for Eddie, he had hoped anyway. He hadn't expected to see you around them but he thought you might be nearby. 

He sauntered in behind Mike and Lucas around 6 pm to set up for the people arriving 15 minutes before Dustin whose Mom was dropping him off for 7. Carrying bags of party supplies and various snacks which they all dumped in the living room. “So your sister around?” Eddie tried to ask casually, his arms crossed and leaning against the wall next to Steve, both watching Mike and Lucas begin to unpack all the items. Steve scoffed “Why you got the hots for her?” he joked dryly. “Having met her only once I can safely tell you, no I do not, however I am wanting to know so I know what to expect for the evening” he gave a wicked grin referring to your fight the previous Sunday. 

Steve pulled an unamused face “If you must know Munson, she is not around at the moment to grace us with her presence.” 

“Mm, where is she?” Eddie asked, his plan wouldn’t work if you weren't even around for him to try to talk to you. “Why do you care?” Steve stood straight, turning towards Eddie to assess his face. “I don't care.” he shrugged and walked over to help the boys. Even though all he was trying to do was become your friend he still felt as if telling Steve would be some sort of betrayal, even if he didn't like Steve they had gotten to speaking terms the past week. 

The clock showed 7:15, they had surprised Dustin, all wished him a happy birthday and were now in the middle of snacking and chatting to everyone, hearing Dustin tell them all the things he had received for his birthday so far while simultaneously eyeing the table of gifts to his left. From his seat on the couch he saw you step in through the front door and toe your shoes off. Since you'd come home in the middle of it it felt obvious you would say a curt hello or even just look into the room where almost ten people sat but no such luck, you walked straight past the entrance to the living room and up the stairs, so quiet Eddie wondered if he had been the only one to notice your arrival. 

“Ok, presents!” Steve smiled. He had been very clear with the fact that he didn't want to be around Eddie or plan Dustin's party but now that he was here and Dustin was grinning from ear to ear, over the moon that his friends hadn't forgotten his birthday and that they were all here now Steve couldn't help but beam like a proud mama hen. 

Dustin ripped the delicate wrapping paper and squealed in delight with every single gift he opened. “Who’s this from?” he asked as he held up a box with no note or card in sight. “Oh yea, that one’s from Y/N” Steve smiled. You were an asshole, and refused to be anywhere near the party, yet you were still a softie, getting a gift for the kid who somehow had managed to get you to talk to him. 

He had never heard of you before, he had never once heard Dustin mention you, you completely ignored everyone in school including Dustin, just as you had ignored the party and gone straight up to your room and yet, you had gotten him a gift. A gift which it seemed you hadn't even planned on taking credit for, or being around to say your welcome when Dustin thanked you, just as he had the others. Why were you giving him a gift? Did you even know him? You must have, people don’t give gifts to people they don't know, and seeing as it was you he felt sure you definitely wouldn't do that. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Dustin almost screamed when he opened the box, he pulled something out of dark sparkly tissue paper to show the group. In his hand he held an extremely detailed figurine of Conan from the comic The Savage Sword of Conan, it must have cost you a shit tonne of money because it sure as hell wasn't some ordinary figurine you could buy for 20 bucks in the comic book shop. Yet you were not here to give him the gift??

Things became calmer after the giftopening, everyone got comfortable on the two couches, beanbags and arm chairs to watch Dustin's guilty pleasure The Goonies, all snacking on chips and candy, staring at the large screen. Robin, who Eddie barely knew, apparently felt comfortable enough to spread out on Steve's couch, resting her feet on Eddie's thighs while a bowl of popcorn rested on her abdomen. Eddie was quite frankly shocked at the action but was told by Steve that that was simply Robin, comfortable and friendly with everyone, so he paid her no mind as she got comfortable. 

He felt enough time had passed that he had both mustered up the courage to kick his plan into action, but also excuse himself from the room with viable reasoning. He pushed off the couch, removing Robin’s legs and placing them on the plush leather he had recently occupied. “Where you going?” she whispered at the disturbance, “Take a piss” he explained as he stepped over Mikes gangly legs slouching off the laZboy. During his last visit to the Harrington house he had used the toilet, and knew exactly where to go. Walking past the kitchen he opened the door to the bathroom, and closed it. Not stepping inside, he had told Robin he was going to the bathroom, so she and anyone else who overheard had to be under the impression he was actually on the toilet. 

He proceeded to tiptoe across the fluffy worn down carpet in his socked feet, stepping as lightly as he could as to not alert anyone of his whereabouts. He tread with extreme caution up the stairs, making careful work of not making any of the floorboards creak, as he got to the landing he realized he had no idea where he was going. He looked around, scanning the hallway, eyes breezing past bookshelves, family photos, lamps and a cute looking rocking chair, pushed up in a corner, a dim lamp shedding light on the green fabric. All doors were slightly ajar except for one, he took his chance. Treading down the oak wood floors to what must be your bedroom, before he arrived however a collection of pictures caught his attention. There were a rare few family photos, mostly from your’s and Steve's youth, some scenery and an awful lot of pictures of Steve. Steve holding his diploma, Steve looking disgruntled at the desk in Family Video, Steve mid air throwing a basketball into a hoop, Steve with a trofé, but not a single one of you. Had it not been for those family photos it would have looked as if you never existed, didn't live there, wasn't the daughter of Charles and Sharon Harrington. Before he had time to think about it though he was stood outside the closed door. White painted fir wood acting as a heavy metal wall with the anxiousness Eddie felt. He couldn't explain it, but sneaking around Steve's house to discreetly talk to you had him on edge. He took a deep breath, shook his shoulders out and clenched his hands. Thick finger wrapped around the doorknob and turned it, his hip pushing the heavy metal open. 

You sat with your back to the headboard, slim headphones connected to a walkman that laid haphazardly on the comforter, threatening to fall off and thud onto the floor, various cassette tapes littered around it. A book in your hands, immersed in a world of fictional characters in riveting battle, feet planted firmly on the bed to keep your book resting on your knees. Black t-shirt draped over your torso, covering the waistband of a baggy pair of black sweatpants. 

You looked up, annoyed, a look which quickly turned into confusion as you were met with the sight of your brother's stupid friend and not his own face. You quickly put your book aside, pulling your headphones off. Your music was very loud, Eddie wondered how you hadn't blasted your eardrums off as he heard the familiar melody of Hounddog playing softly through the room. “Who are you?” you frowned, scooting back on the bed to sit up straight. Eddie chuckled a scoff, really? “Uh I’m Eddie, we’ve met?” the statement came out as more of a question to rejog your memory. “Okeeey” you began, talking to Eddie as if he'd said something stupid only you knew was stupid “Why are you in my room?” you asked, seemingly annoyed with him. 

Eddie took the chance to close the door behind him as he explained “Thought this was the bathroom”. He took a second to admire your room. Posters of Elvis Presley, Ray charles, Frank Sinatra, various composers and other musical artists hung on every square inch of you walls, a white desk pushed against your only window, littered with various pencils, papers and books, shelves holding a large amount of books as well as action figures and a collection of odd objects. As he continued looking around he noticed a black metal stand for music sheets, papers layered on the shelf, some close to falling over and floating to the gray carpet, a violin case, next to it multiple different violins hanging from stands on the wall. 

“Yeah well the bathroom is down the hall, so leave please” you rolled your eyes. Eddie ignored your request, avoiding it with a “Cool room”, the frown permanently based on your face deepened “You like Elvis?” he smirked slightly, it was very obvious you did, his face stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all the other posters. “Get out” you stated, becoming very annoyed. No one, not a single living soul other than close family had been in your room, you never had anyone in your room, and you didn't want anyone in your room, so the fact that this guy had just waltzed in as if it was his god given right really pissed you off. 

“Don’t worry, I just wanna’ know what it's like to be Steve Harrington’s sister” he widened his eyes at you when he said your brother's name before going back to being in awe of your room. “Fucking unbarable, now get the fuck out” you were getting mad now. Eddie chuckled “Yeah I can imagine” 

“Okey” you pushed yourself off the soft mattress, feet thumping to the floor as you walked over to the man “that's enough” you put your hands on his shoulders and spun him around, forcing him to walk back to your door “Get out now” you pushed him through the doorframe and promptly shut the door in his face.  Despite being kicked out, it was as if time stopped when your fingers grasped onto his shoulders. He didn't even get the chance to fight you on the matter, all he could think about was how you were touching him, how your soft violinist hands grasped onto him so tightly and ordered his body around. It was so extremely strange to think about as he stood awestruck with his face mere inches away from the wood of your door, that you had touched him. What was even stranger was the tingling feeling that seemed to spread from those same shoulders down to his chest, giving him a warming but harsh hug. He frowned at the feeling, that was new, and it was weird. He frowned and shook it off, he’d get you to talk to him eventually and made his way back down the stairs to finish the rest of the movie.

#80s #90s #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson has adhd #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson headcons #Eddie Munson plus size reader #Eddie Munson x plus size reader #Eddie Munson x reader #headcanon #headcon #StarrWrites #StarrThinks #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x autistic reader #eddie x harrington reader #Eddie x Harrington!Reader #Eddie x Mean Reader

[thorneyes]

Info Tidbits - Rohesia Thorneyes

B A S I C S

Name: Rohesia Thorneyes

Nicknames: Roh, Thorneyes

Age: Mid-Twenties

Nameday: Unknown (Sometime in the 4th Umbral Moon)

Race: Hyur Highlander (Ala Mhigo)

Gender: Female

Orientation: Bisexual, prefers butch/masc presentation.

Profession: Adventurer and healer-for-hire.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Dark brown, with a wiry texture that makes it a bit unruly, especially when she's wearing it short.

Eyes: Green and always sharp.

Skin: Brown, slightly lighter than some of her countrymen.

Tattoos/scars: Ala Mhigan style facial tattoos. Scars-wise she has a number of them, fitting her life as an adventurer, but the most prominent is a messy knot of them that cover her right shoulder and upper arm.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Both passed.

Siblings: None.

Grandparents: She knows next to nothing about them.

In-laws and Other: Recently reconnected with a childhood friend close enough to be her brother, Q'ndai Tia.

Pets: n/a! She wouldn't have the first clue what to do with one. She barely manages to look after her familiar.

S K I L L S

Abilities: A competent if unconventional conjurer, thanks to being taught in a hodge-podge sort of style. She's got some practice at field medicine outside of that, which makes most of her healing best applied on the battlefield. She knows how to throw a punch, too, though she's not very elegant about it.

Hobbies: A growing (heh) interest in gardening.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Determined, sociable, deeply caring despite the front she puts up.

Most Negative Trait: Stubborn as anything, especially when she feels like she's been slighted.

L I K E S

Colors: Blue-green for what she wears, but she has a fondness for reds in general.

Smells: Spicy foods, the salt of the lochs (it's familiar even if it's not a good scent exactly).

Textures: warm stone, rough linen cloth.

Drinks: Over-steeped tea.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Might on occasion, but doesn't when there's a chance she might be needed, which is a lot lately.

Drinks: Socially, now and then. Usually just a cheap beer, but occasionally something nicer.

Drugs: Avoids. She's seen where that can lead and she doesn't want it.

Mount Issuance: Doesn't have one. She can ride a chocobo but isn't very comfortable with it.

Been Arrested: At least once. She doesn't tend to talk about it.

Tagged by: @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat ty!

Tagging: Have not kept track but plz tag me if you see this and want to do it.

#thorneyes #prompt responses #prompt meme

[cherryxcadbury]

prompt 3 for mason 😍

y/n: your name

WARNING: THIS IS V AWFULLY WRITTEN SORRY

2nd person pov

“Y/N hun, did you get the cake?” Your mother asked on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah yeah I’m pulling into the garage right now.” You mumbled as you parked the car in the garage.

“Great thanks. Also heads up, there’s a guest here so mentally prepare yourself I suppose.” You mum added.

You scoffed, “You act like I’m incapable of talking to other adults.”

“You aren’t.” Your dad blurted into your mom’s phone.

“Hey! What do y—oh forget it. I’m coming through the garage door.” You spoke into the phone, trying to balance the cake while squeezing the phone in between your ear and shoulder.

You inwardly cheered as you managed to make your way from the garage to the kitchen without dropping anything. You were tempted to open the cake a snag a piece before laughter from the family room interrupted your devilish choices.

“Company.” You grumbled, hoping it wasn’t anyone too important.

Your gym set (black leggings, cropped black athletic tank and oversized gray zip up) would have to do.

You leaned against the kitchen wall, hoping to be able to decipher the voice on the other side. But alas, it was not meant to be. Shrugging your shoulders, you strode into the family room until you noticed him.

He stopped in the middle of his laughter once he noticed your presence. A smirk made its way onto his face.

“You fucking son of a bi—” You started before your brother, Leo (not Lio Messi) shushed you.

“Y/N. This is my best friend in London, Mason.” Leo smiled, introducing you to apparently, the man who was his best friend.

You’d never met him before, at least that’s what your family thought. Leo had moved to London a few months prior while you opted to stay in Southampton for studies. Mason was one of the good friends he’d gained during his time in the English capital.

You weren’t stupid. You watched football, avidly at that. You knew Mason Mount. What nobody besides you and Mason knew however, was that you two had met before. It was about three months ago, when you were visiting Leo for the first time.

You’d been on your drive back to Southhampton and were stopped at a service station in Croydon for some snacks. You were sleep deprived and exhausted but needed to get home to finish exam studying. You’d spotted your favourite ever, a terrys chocolate orange. There was only one left. Just as you were about to grab it, that wanker did as well.

And though you’re normally tended to be on the quieter side and non confrontational, that man brought out the worst in you. You both fought over it at the back of the store.

Hence solidifying your hatred of the man.

“Lovely to see you again. Hadn’t seen you since our time in the service station.” The smirk growing wider as he spoke.

He was the one who ended up getting that chocolate orange on that fateful night.

“Yeah we—” You began to speak but saw your family shift uncomfortably at the conversation between the two you.

You opted to bring it up later, and begrudgingly sat down as Leo covered up the awkward silence.

hours later***

You sat at the kitchen island huddled over your laptop, you’d now changed into nightwear. This, in your case, happened to be very similar to your regular clothing. An oversized jumper and athletic shorts.

“And so though it ended in chaos, the ancient civilizations of Greece and Persia will forever hold a history beyond that of their fabled tales.” You whispered to yourself as you typed the sentence on your laptop.

It was a last minute history essay which you’d completely forgot about and had began to bullshit at 2 in the morning.

You sighed in relief, realising you’d be able to go to sleep tonight. You were just about to pack up and head to your room for the night before you heard footsteps approaching you.

Weird. Everyone in your family were heavy sleepers, including you.

Unless it wa-wait. Please no.

You grimaced when you saw a tired Mason rubbing his temples looking like a mess. You snickered at the sight.

It took a bit for his eyes to readjust to the light, having the blink a few times upon seeing you.

“Not asleep yet?” He asked you, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

What kind of person drinks coffee at 2 in the morning?

“Had an essay to finish.” You muttered.

“Oh yeah? What about?” Mason asked.

You gazed at him with sceptisim. You found it odd that something like this would pique his interest.

“I don’t suppose you’d know anything about it.” You scoffed.

A lazy smile made its way onto his face.

“Come on Y/N. I thought we were past this.”

“You may be, but me no. Call me a bitch but I hold my grudges.” You spoke, trying to avoid eye contact.

Mason rolled his eyes and walked back to the guest room. You shrugged your shoulder, happy to be rid of him.

Then however, he appeared again. Your eyes zeroed in at what he was holding in his hands.

“Think fast.” He said, tossing the box at you.

Your hands sprang up and you were satisfied that you managed to catch it. It was a box, a large one at that. Full of several Terry’s Chocolate Oranges.

“Truce?” He offered.

You looked down at the chocolates, then to Mason, then back again.

“Fine.” You obliged.

You noticed the way he was looking at you. He stared at you like you were the only one. It was 2am, you were the only one in the room. You began to feel warm, nervous, and anxious under his gaze. Like he was scrutinising your every move.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You finally mustered up the courage to ask.

“Analysis.” He answered.

“Analysis? Are you good?” You shot him a strange look.

“I’m just trying to figure out why I acted the way I did at the service station.”

“Maybe because your were getting no playing time at Chelsea and you guys were losing every match.” You laughed, before quickly shutting yourself up.

“Sorry too soon.” You apologised.

To your surprised Mason cracked a smile. He then proceeded to walk over to you on the other side of the kitchen island, you swiveled your chair around to face him.

You sat while he stood. You looked up at him, still confused and nervous at what he was doing.

His arms flew to either side of you, basically caging you in.

You gulped nervously for several reasons. One, you obviously wanted him to act on it but you were kind of inexperienced and wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Two, you were in your parents house, they were sleeping just above your heads. Three, he was your brother’s best friend.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, placing emphasis on the what.

“Are you okay with this?” He asked, eyes fixated on you.

“Yes.” You answered immediately.

“The only reason I fought with you so hard was because I thought you were cute. I didnt really know how else to get a girl’s attention.” Mason admitted sheepishly.

“So you’re not usually a dick?” You inquired, a smile playing on your face.

“Usually no. To you, yes. I like our bantering.” He smirked.

“Me too.” You nodded, laughing.

You noticed he started to glance longingly at your lips.

But before you could think or act, you heard movement upstairs, someone shuffling in their room.

“My parents are upstairs.” You thought aloud.

Mason nodded about to speak before you both heard someone coming down the stairs. You acted on instinct, pecked him on the lips then scurried away to your room.

“Call me.” You mouthed, gesturing with your hands, inwardly celebrating when you saw him smile.

Somehow managing to get up to your room and in your bed without whoever was coming down the stairs noticing, a smile was on your face.

You quickly opened up your phone and began to text your two best friends.

Today starts a forbidden romance, just like in the movies. Upon reading your text you quickly deleted the message.

Oh shit. He didn’t have your number.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be just like the movies.

I was not feeling this one at all, was a bit chaotic. hope u enjoyed though <3

#mason mount #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb #mason mount x oc #mason mount x y/n #mason mount request #mason mount fanfic #chelsea fc #chelsea #footballers #football imagines #england nt #fluff #angst #football #world cup 2022 #mount #declan rice #y/n

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: They're so cute I wanna cry -Danny Words: 2,304 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Alone Together' -by Fall Out Boy

XXXIII: The Slowest Slow-burn Becomes a Wild-fire

It's been a while since Janus visited my dreams, so I can't help but groan in annoyance when I see him in the Empire State lobby.

"Can't a girl mourn in peace?" I complain.

"We're happy to see you too," the right head replies.

"What do you want?"

"Your crossroad is approaching, demigod," he says. "We have a present for you."

"I didn't know you gave presents to go along with the existential crisis!" I cross my arms.

"Funny," the left head sneers.

"We're here to talk to you one last time..."

"For now," Leftie adds.

"Let me finish!" says Right. "Arae Jackson. You have to choose."

"I choose to wake up!" 

"War is coming," Right ignores me. "The end of a story."

"The start of another," Leftie continues.

"A chance for a good life. A short one."

"But happy," counts Left. "As happy as it can be."

"Or..." Right grins wickedly.

"Or!" Leftie exclaims with delight.

"Or?" I ask impatiently.

"An opportunity to fix your mistakes!" 

"Though no good deed goes unpunished. Meddling is pricey, Jackson."

"Small cost for greatness," Right sighs. "And a child of Olympus doesn't dwell on sacrifice."

"All gods are flawed anyway," Leftie chuckles. "You'll fit right in!"

I feel something cold run down my spine. "I-I don't understand..."

"We know," they reply.

"That's the fun of it!" Left cackles.

"One thing's for sure," Right smirks. "If you choose wrong, everyone dies!"

The dream goes away, and the floor with it. Everything around me is pitch-black but I can hear the roaring of a creature—A sulfuric smell burns my nose, and I start choking.

Ara gives most of her food as an offering to the gods—her stomach feels the size of a walnut—then takes little sips from her goblet before abandoning the table. She leaves without even glancing at Cabin Nine's table. 

She doesn't want to see  Leo; if he looks normal, or if he looks even worse than she does, neither of those is going to make her feel better. Ara wishes she had someone to talk to who could give her all the answers. But alas, the more she grows, the more she realizes just how tragically lonely life is.

"Hi, beautiful. I saw you and thought—'Wow, I should follow her to a secluded area, that'll make her like me'," Leo speaks behind her as soon as she reaches the beach.

He's more nervous than he'd like to admit, but his hands betray him, fidgeting nonstop. He's wearing a clean pair of cargo pants and a camp shirt, he also tried to brush his hair but the wind is making it messy again.

"I, er..." Ara can't help feeling dizzy knowing Leo took his time to get clean and look nice just for her.

"Hang on," he's got a blanket over his shoulder, the boy holds it and walks past her. "You're always giving orders, let me give it a try..." he places the fabric over the sand. "Sit."

Ara doesn't know what to expect from Leo, he picks up a little basket that she hadn't noticed a moment ago, and her body lights up when she realizes he's prepared a picnic.

"You didn't eat," he sits next to her. "Me neither. Jason said you get hungry during the date anyway, so I thought it'd be a good idea to eat while we talk and..." he clears his throat, trying not to feel self-conscious. "It's cheesy but—"

"It's perfect," Ara hugs her knees. "I've never done anything like this, but cheesy's a good way to start, I think."

"I'm counting on it, 'cause that's all I've got," Leo mimics her pose in a more relaxed way. "But if you end up not liking it, we can try something else."

Ara can't make eye contact yet, so she keeps her gaze on the food. "So uhm... what's in the basket?"

"Double-stuffed Oreos and a six-pack of cokes," the boy rubs his neck. "That's all Travis Stoll could get me on short notice."

Ara's faced armies of monsters without flinching, but a first date stresses her beyond belief. "I like Oreos."

Leo moves the basket closer to her. "Help yourself."

She opens a package. "When I first got here, I asked for a stuffed cookie the size of my palm. Silena wanted me to eat healthier, she said I wouldn't grow otherwise, but I didn't grow either way. I blame the orphanage, didn't give me enough formula when I was little."

Leo chuckles. "Well, girls stop growing until they're like, twenty-one. You've still got time."

Ara laughs too, she glances at him afterwards. "You lived in an orphanage too, right?"

"Sorta," he makes a face. "Foster homes."

"Plural?"

"I was always running away. They would move me around, hoping I'd stop."

"Maybe if I'd stayed in the orphanage, we would've met. If it weren't for Hedge, I would've stayed in that place... for too long."

Leo knows that isn't true. Most people would adopt someone like Ara right away: Intelligent, polite, and with the face of an angel. That is exactly what happened when the Jacksons met her, they fell in love.

She's the kind of girl Leo would've avoided because they made him uncomfortable. It was pure luck that they met when Ara was in a horrible mood, Leo had been able to act somewhat normal (his normal) around her, which then caused Ara to give him a chance.

"I'm glad Hedge found you," he admits.

"Me too," the girl shrugs. "Even if people still think I'm a problem, at least I've got some friends here."

"Yeah, know what you mean," Leo grabs an Oreo. "I have an aunt—still out there probably—she loved saying that I was wicked..." he laughs dryly. "She's the reason I ended up in foster homes—The rest of my relatives turned their backs on me thanks to her."

Ara doesn't want the conversation to be so heavy, they're supposed to be sorting out their... whatever they have going on, so she tries to lighten up the mood. 

"Hey, I just realized... I don't think we know each other well. We should do something about that if we're going to... date."

Leo smiles a little. "You're right. How do we fix it? D'you want to play twenty questions?"

Ara nods. "You're Mexican-American, right? Do you speak Spanish fluently?" 

She's aware that is a stupid question, but it's all she can come up with. Fortunately, Leo finds it amusing. "'Course I do! Want me to teach you some curse words?"

"Sure," she grins. "I can teach you how to swear in French and Italian, though sometimes I still get the Italian wrong, but maybe you'll find that one easy, I've heard is similar to Spanish."

"Wow," Leo leans back and smiles. "You're so smart."

It's weird to be on the receiving end of flirty behavior. Most people assume Ara can't be flirted with, fearing Percy or Lily will step in to murder them, so they never try. It's a bummer, she's still Aphrodite at the core and wants all the compliments, and she loves that Leo is so willing to deliver.

"So what's your favorite food? And you can't say tacos, I already know that one."

Leo grins, it's nice to know Ara pays attention to him. "Enchiladas with arrachera—and I know what you're thinking, but enchiladas are not tacos. My mom used to make a salsa with habaneros, she was always shocked to see I could eat a whole plate without sweating."

Ara smiles. "You were close to your mom?"

"Yup. She was the best."

"You were a mama's boy?" The girl teases him.

Leo snorts. "Maybe. My kid self would've kicked your kid self's butt all the same."

"Is that how you decide to approach this?" She giggles. "I'm your crush!" 

"You started it!" He replies, also grinning. "And I was a tougher kid than you ever were."

"I was good at exploding things, I could've blasted your butt into space."

Leo smirks. "Would've been worth it." He lies on the blanket, both hands behind his head. "So... you ever met your mortal parent? The one who fell for Aphrodite?"

Ara makes a face. "That jerk abandoned me as soon as I was born," she says, playing with the sand around her feet. "He didn't want to be a dad."

That's not so hard to believe, what's hard to believe is that it happened to Ara. The beautiful, intelligent girl sitting next to him. "Why would he do that?" It surprises her just how stunned he sounds. "Did you look for him?"

"What for?" She wrinkles her nose. "He named me with the sole purpose of insulting my mother, can't be clearer than that."

Leo stares at her. "But it's a compliment, you know that, right?"

Despite the topic, Ara feels like laughing. "How is that a compliment? He called me a curse!"

"Well, it's a curse to the world that you're so pretty."

Ara blushes and laughs. "You're an idiot."

Leo grabs another Oreo, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, I can be your idiot anytime, just say the word."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The girl watches the sun sink under the sealine. Slowly, the moonlight illuminates their features, and there is an orange tint to it coming from the distant campfire. Ara feels at ease for the first time in months.

"I like this a lot," she says. "A solid first date."

"M'glad," Leo sits up to face her, but she's not ready to look at him. "I wanted you to feel comfortable. Like when I'm with you... I don't have to keep my hands busy."

"I'd like to keep your hands busy, though..." Ara replies quietly.

The boy inhales so sharply he chokes. "W-What?"

"See that constellation?" She changes the subject, too flustered to keep the other going. "I met her."

"What?" Leo repeats, even more confused. 

Her heart is pounding and she's sure he can hear it. She's terrified, but she has to be brave. Ara reaches for his hand and holds it firmly. "She was a hunter of Artemis, died while saving Annabeth... Her name was Zoë."

Leo's skin glows golden, but it's flickering like he's fighting it back. "Ara, I'll burn through the blanket if you don't let go of me."

She tries to take her hand back. "Sorry—"

Leo tightens his grip. "The way you... all I've ever..." he takes a deep breath and stares at Zoë's constellation. "I'm not good with words."

"I know."

He shakes his head. "And you like me anyway? I don't understand, you should be with someone like Jason."

The girl frowns. "Says who?"

"You can have anyone you want... are you sure you want me?"

Ara's chest tightens at his words. "I don't think I'm worth many things, Leo, but I got them. Because I asked for them."

"Yeah, but—"

"You're the first person that's ever asked me out," she laughs. "You're the only one who cares about me this way. You said I didn't have to be alone, and that you could be whatever I needed. You didn't mean that?"

"I did," Leo replies quickly, but his grip is loosening. "But—"

"Shouldn't I be with the boy who wants to look after me?"

"It's just..." he scowls at the sand, kicking it lightly. "You're one of the highlights of my entire life. I don't wanna mess it up."

"I want you to hug me sometimes," she scoots closer to him, nudging his shoulder. "I'm not asking you to bring me the moon!"

"I know, Ara," Leo hugs his knees again and supports his head on them, pouting like a little kid. "But being myself isn't good enough."

Ara tries not to smile, but she fails. "I know how that feels..."

"No, doll. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but people don't fawn over me. Not even you."

She snorts. "I can change the way I show my affection if you need me to."

"I'm talking about a real problem here: the genetics I was born with." 

"You do remember you're half god, right?"

"You do remember how Hephaestus looks, right?" He asks in the same tone.

Ara wants to laugh. She also wants to never talk to boys again for the rest of her life. "I'm not enjoying the anticipation as much as I thought I would."

"That makes two of us..." he sighs. "I warn you, this might happen way too often. I overthink and spiral, I regret saying things as soon as they leave my mouth, and sometimes I don't even realize I've said something wrong until hours or days later."

"Very ADHD of you," she muses.

The way the moonlight falls on her face makes it look like she's also a constellation. Ara is as attractive as she is unsettling, and it's only making Leo like her more.

"So what do we do?" The girl asks. "Should we take it slow?"

Leo purses his lips. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and no matter how much it frightens him, he's desperate to hold her close once more. "I don't do slow."

Leo kisses her. His lips fit hers like they were meant for this, and her heart has never beaten as fast as it does now. Leo glows to his total capacity, and Ara closes her eyes so the light doesn't hurt her. Every bad thing that's ever happened to them suddenly is not such a big deal after all.

Leo's hand settles on her waist as he moves forward, he's never kissed anyone like this, but he can't get enough of her. Everywhere he touches feels like fire on her skin—and it could be—but she's too delighted to care. 

When the kiss ends, Leo stares at her like he can't believe she's welcoming his touch, that she wants it. Ara runs a hand through his hair, and that causes his breath to hitch. He pushes himself away, cheeks flushed and nose very much on fire. Ara bursts out laughing at the sight. 

"Calm down!"

He scowls and it's like she can hear him say: "Do you think I can do that right now?" Leo shakes his head in disbelief, leaning in to kiss her a second time. Ara tries to keep the flames under control and the boy chuckles at her actions, but he doesn't stop kissing her. 

"You'll burn me!" She giggles.

In response, Leo just wraps his arms tighter around her.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #doo

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Through the Grapevine

This is my first fic so please beware of beginner mistakes. I hope someone likes it or sees it for that matter. 18+ SMUT

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: NSFW, age gap (legal), oral sex, self-insert with no y/n, cursing, slight praise kink if you squint, perverted actions, perverted themes

Summary: You heard about your mother's new boyfriend but you were more interested in his recently divorced son.

You loved your mom but you couldn’t say you liked her much. Honestly if she were your age, you would have beat her ass. But alas that is not the case and those passive-aggressive comments, judgemental stares, and blunt criticism were under the guise of ‘helping’ you. Cue massive eye roll. 

Your parents divorce wasn’t a messy one by any means, they just grew apart as they got older. Similar to you and your mother’s relationship. Obviously you frequented your dad's place not being able to take your mothers presence when you had another non-judgemental home. Your absence didn’t change your mothers tune at all, in fact she just made sure she told you what she thought of you whenever you called since she wasn’t sure when it would happen again. 

As you grew more distant she must have grown lonely even though it was a mess of her own making. She met a mechanic named Felipe, from what your grandma told you he ran a garage and was nice. He also has a son named Francisco who was an ex-military pilot that helped him run it. You truly couldn’t help yourself so you looked them up, and your results didn’t disappoint. Frankie, as you figured he preferred to be called, was a certified DILF and you figured out his basic life story after going through his page. Went to the army and came back, met a girl, knocked said girl up, married girl, and finally divorced her while sharing custody. 

Usually if your mom had invited you to dinner you’d pass however she explicitly wanted you to meet your possible step-family. In spite of that, wanting to meet Frankie in the flesh had you reconsidering for dirty reasons that were all self serving. 

Eventually you told her just how excited you were for her to start dating again especially since dad had begun to move on. In the coming days you packed a bag to spend the weekend at your mothers, meticulously planning each outfit on the chance of meeting your probable stepbrother. Was it wrong? Yes. Perverted? No doubt. But you weren’t really one to show restraint or shame when it came to such a good looking man. A man that was also almost twice your age. 

Arriving at your mother’s was a fucking chore she already pulled out all the stops. “You look like you have gained a little weight. Are you sure you’ve been exercising?” then, “I just worry about whether you'll end up alone at the rate you’re going.” and last but not least “Are you sure about that outfit I mean it’s pretty but…”

 At this point you could just tune her out however you maintained a semblance of conversation if only for your own selfishness. “Will it be just you, me, and Felipe for dinner?” you ask casually.

“Oh no his son Frankie will join us too, he has a daughter you know had a wife too but things didn’t work out. You know I’m sure he has a couple of friends for you if yo-” You cut her off before she could get the wrong idea.

“No. That’s ok I’m not really looking mom” at least not at them.

“Oh. I thought by now you grow out of that…” as she continued to rant about your disappointing track record the doorbell rang. You jumped up to answer it with an “I got it” thanking the universe for that distraction. As you neared the door you smoothed out your short but flowy sundress and checked your hair one last time. You opened the door and your eyes landed on two twins that were in different stages in life. Frankie was the spitting image of his father just younger, you immediately stuck your hand out to Felipe and introduced yourself. He shook it eagerly with his own greeting.

“It’s great to meet you, your mother has told me so much about you. I’m Felipe and this is my son Fransico.” Oh you know, you know exactly who he is and him in person is even better than on screen. He offered his hand to you next and you shook it lingering a bit. 

“Hi, you can just call me Frankie.” He gives you a dazzling smile that would make any woman's panties drop on sight, especially yours. You take in his brown curls and patchy beard but you really love his nose most of all. You take note he’s not wearing that beloved standard oil hat that’s in most of his pictures. Shaken out of your haze you lead them to where you left your mother a few moments ago. She greets her boyfriend as if you aren’t present in the room and your face doesn’ hide your emotions. 

Frankie sees your obvious disgust and laughs at your discomfort. You turn to look back at him and you two find that it’s a mutual feeling. You decide to start the bonding process with your stepbrother, stepping closer you stand on your toes putting your mouth near his ear whispering for him to follow you. Without checking to see his reaction you walk towards your mother’s kitchen.

By the time Frankie arrives you’ve already begun pulling out alcohol to make yourself a long island iced tea. Looking up you ask what Frankie wants, he states whatever you’re making is fine. You notice he is a bit tense. Once you finish both drinks you sit next to him but you turn your body to face him. 

“So our parents have been dating for a while and this is the first time I’ve seen you in person, despite your mother talking about you constantly why?” Frankie decided to go straight for the jugular.

“Well you’ve met her, do you want to be in her presence often?” Frankie laughs in agreement and puts both hands up in defense. Wanting to catch him off guard you ask him about his divorce that you heard about “through the grapevine”. The grapevine being a full analysis of his & his ex-wife’s facebook. 

“We grew apart, I mean we already were distant but the main reason we got and stayed together was for our daughter Rosie’s sake.” He looks at you after he finishes answering, maybe to gauge your reaction however you already knew most of this. You decide to see how far you can push.

“So are you seeing anybody then?” You lock eyes with him while finishing your drink. He bites his lip as he takes a moment to drink you in. 

“No but there is an age requirement and I don’t think you meet it” You can’t help but throw your head back and laugh.

“And how old is that exactly?” 

“35. I’d rather not have people think I’m going through a midlife crisis with the cliche 20 something girlfriend after my divorce.” He looks at you pointedly after he says that. 

You think for a moment before leaning in and placing a hand on his chest to whisper in his ear “Who said I needed to be your girlfriend? Maybe I could just help release some of that obvious tension you have” you pull back and slightly rub his broad shoulders, looking at him with a sweet smile and doe eyes.

Frankie looks like he just might break but you hear your mom’s footsteps approaching. As always she has the best timing, you back away from him reluctantly. She arrives in the kitchen with Felipe in tow along with mexican takeout, gesturing for you all to move outside. Out on the patio everyone helps set up the table before getting their share of food. With your mother to your right, Frankie across from you, and Felipe to your left you sit down and start for the vajitas. 

Conversation between you and Felipe developed since he’s curious about what it is you’re studying. You talk about how you’re going for a degree in marketing wanting to focus especially on the digital aspect of it. Your mom cuts in about how she wished you would go with something a little more “practical” instead of artsy. You subtlety roll your eyes and bring yourself to look at Frankie who’s already staring at you. The longer you look at him the more you want to mess with him, just a little bit. 

The conversation turns to Frankie while you focus on taking off one of your shoes. Your mom asks him what he’s been up to lately and he starts talking about how busy the shop is and Rosie starting 2nd grade. She also questions how his ex is doing. You take this as your queue before any more words can leave his mouth. You place your foot near his ankle and slowly slide it up his leg only to stop at his knee. He starts stuttering and looks directly at you though you pretend to be engrossed with the salsa on your chip. He doesn’t buy your act and doesn’t let up his heated gaze as he continues the conversation. He never moves your foot though. 

You can’t help but giggle to yourself a little as you inch your foot up the inside of his thigh almost touching his bulge but not quite. You finally look up to watch his reaction and it doesn’t disappoint. His hands are clasped in front of his mouth with his eyes on you, his chest heaving slightly as if he is trying to control himself. You just continue to rub your foot along the inside of his thigh, teasing him with a smile on your face. 

When you finally slide your foot over his bulge you see the intake of breath and begin to press down just enough to feel him grow. But once you feel just how big he is he notes the change in your expression and realizes how the tables have turned. He sees the shock and once cocky grin that enveloped your face waver into bashful uncertainty. Now it's his turn to make you squirm.

Your mom catches onto your prolonged silence and asks if you like your food. You take this as an opportunity and begin to retract your foot while you tell her how great it was. Before you can Frankie grabs your foot and puts it exactly where it was. He presses it slightly harder than you had before while boring his eyes into you. Stunned into a silent submission you feel him grinding your foot against his crotch, 4 out of your 5 senses are captivated by him and it’s all becoming too much. You take your foot back and stand abruptly gathering up your plate and asking everyone if they’d like theirs taken. Felipe and your mom appreciate your ‘politeness’ and hand you their plates, Frankie however insists he help with the dishes holding onto his plate. 

You realize exactly where this is going so you quickly walk to the kitchen and leave your shoe under the table. Once inside again you take a deep breath and come to terms with the fact that you may have met your match. 

“I think you left this under the table chiquita” you turn around only to find him crowding your space while holding your abandoned shoe and his plate. His dazed eyes reflecting the lust you both feel. l You must be silent for too long because he continues goading you. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now chiquita, hmm?” his lips were at your ear now, his hands rubbing your sides, and his bulge pressing against your stomach. “Not when I was getting so excited to play with you.” he gently grasps your hand, guiding it until you feel him hot and heavy. You feel your cheeks get hotter by the second and you clench your thighs together hoping it would ease the incessant need, but it doesn’t.

With your words caught in your throat you respond by palming him, getting him to release a guttural groan. He follows up with an encouraging ‘that’s it baby’ that makes your panties so wet they are probably sticking to your core. His hand then snakes its way to your hair and grabs a handful forcing your head back. You let out a whine when you make eye contact with him, his deep brown eyes look feral. Swiftly you press your lips to his in a gentle kiss that quickly turns downright filthy once Frankie takes over.

His free hand makes its way to your ass, rubbing it gently before he grabs a handful. Your bodies become unbelievably close making you moan into his mouth. He sees this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth and sloppily lick inside. You use your free hand to grab the back of his neck to give leverage to your tongue. He takes an obvious liking to that and grinds himself harder into your hand, it’s almost like you can feel his length pulsing harder with each passing second.

You pull back enough to start fumbling with Frankie’s belt and zipper but he stops you. Disappointed you look up at him to question why but he just smiles and grabs your hand leading you out of the kitchen and down the hall. Opening up the door to the guest bedroom you enter first while he turns to close and lock the door. When he turns around his expression is one of a man starved, butterflies erupt in your lower stomach as you walk backwards. He’s closing in on you quickly and the backs of your knees hit the bed making you fall before you can catch yourself. 

Frankie climbs over you but not all the way he stops at your neck and lowers his mouth to gently kiss it, his beard scratching you in a way that makes your cunt pulse with need. As he goes lower so do the butterflies in your tummy, it almost feels like your first time but obviously better. He kneels in front of the bed lifting up your dress to pull your panties down. You watch as he sees the wet huge patch that sticks to your core making you pull your knees together out of shyness. But he pries them back apart with a look that tells you not to do it again. He inhales your panties and pockets them making your mouth drop in shock. Before you can formulate a response he’s already licking a stripe over your slit causing your pussy to start clenching around nothing. He licks his way up to your clit circling around it before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently on it. Your back arches involuntarily and you let out a shrill moan that’s damn near pornographic. This gives Frankie pause and he digs out your panties and shoves them in your mouth holding his hand over it.

“Unless you want to get caught we have to be quiet.” Eagerly you nod your head agreeing silently begging for him to go back to eating you out. He removes his hand and lowers himself again kissing the inside of your thighs before focusing back. This time licking your folds before his tongue dives into your hole and flicking back and forth over your sweet spot causing your back to arch off of the bed. He goes from licking back to focusing on your clit which has you reeling and grabbing the sheets so you don’t buck into his mouth. Once he feels you’re wet enough he adds two thick fingers that gently rub at your sweet spot over and over until your hips move in tandem with it. He reattaches his mouth to your clit so he’s sucking while he finger fucks you, suddenly grabbing the sheets isn’t enough so you reach for his hair and start tugging it in motion with your hips. The only sounds in the room are squelching and muffled moans from you.

With you now fucking his face you know you won’t last much longer especially with him groaning in your pussy. That familiar feeling is lingering in the pit of your stomach getting closer and closer, becoming incessantly louder until you can’t take it. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, washing all over your body it even has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. With your hips slowing down but not completely stilling you remove your hands from Frankie’s hair. You would try to fix it but it usually looks messy anyway. Taking you by surprise he pulls the panties out of your mouth and pockets them. Again. You also catch him sucking your juices from his fingers. 

When you finally can sit up you go to return the favor only for him to brush your hand off. He looks away with his hand on the back of his neck telling you he already finished. While he was eating you out. You stand up to smooth out your dress and approach him giving him the sloppiest kiss you can muster. You taste yourself on his lips and his tongue before pulling yourself back. 

“You know we should probably head back and do the dishes like we are supposed to be doing.” He agrees with you and reluctantly heads for the door but you can tell from his expression that’s the last thing he wants to do. Great minds think alike. Sneaking back to the kitchen you find your mom and Felipe still on the patio talking with the food packed up. 

Frankie stands beside you, closer than he needed to be, while drying the dishes for you. You can’t help but ask “So am I gonna be getting my panties back or?” 

His cheeks are tinged pink when he responds “Maybe if I can get a replacement since the scent will fade.” His answer leaves you with your mouth slightly open in shock and eyes blown wide. 

“So you really are just a dirty perverted old man huh?” He turns to look down at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You didn’t seem to complain when you were fucking this dirty preverted old man’s face.” You pretend to be offended by the statement and fling some soapy water at him. But ultimately you end up laughing causing Frankie to do the same.

“Oh, it’s nice that the two are getting along so well I thought you would.” Your mom and Felipe are bringing in the leftovers and setting them on the counter. Her statement causes flashbacks to just how well you two got on, and how the lingering evidence is in his pocket. You sneak a look at Frankie only to find him sniffing his fingers and sending you a wink. You begin plotting your next run-in with him in your head.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you

[lizzybeth1986]

Petals and Thornes

(If you'd like to be tagged in this series, let me know!)

Book: The Royal Romance (Primarily Books 2 and 3)

Pairings: Hana x Kiara.

Set during the events of Books 2 and 3 of TRR. This series will be partly canon-compliant to the books in terms of story beats, but with significant changes.

A/N: Preceding the actual series will be a few one-shot fics...all setting up Hanara's friendships and their characterization before the events of the series begin. I'm also planning a very short series on Esther's (MC) month at the Beaumont Estate, that touches on certain parts of this series as well.

Get to Know Hana*

Fics

Tea Drunk

A young Hana gets a special reward for good behaviour from her parents.

With A Little Help From My Friends: Music Room | Esther

Whiskey with Drake, dance battles with Maxwell, sweet treats with Esther. On the night Hana is to leave Cordonia, what special moment of friendship will she share with Prince Liam? Set during Liam's Coronation festivities in TRR1, after Hana's love confession to Esther and before Liam's love confession in the hedge maze.

A Piece of Land to Call My Own

At the end of Liam's engagement tour, Hana finds herself without a home, without a family, without any place she can truly call hers'. She tries to keep her worries to herself, but will her friend King Liam find out sooner than later?

Headcanons

Music Headcanons

Hana Lee: Duchess of Krysanthe

Character Playlist

Get to Know Kiara*

Fics

Wordlessly

There is a lot on little Kiara's mind as she goes biking with her cousin Céleste around Loire. Can Céleste help her?

It Takes a Village

A Child of Babel

The five times Kiara uttered the proverb of a language under her breath, and the two times she did it to someone's face.

A young Kiara Thorne has something important to say to her parents.

An Ear to the Ground

To the rest of Cordonia, Lady Kiara Thorne of Castelserraillan is just another suitor, destined at failure in winning the Crown Prince's hand. Luckily for Kiara, that isn't why she's here. Set during the social season in TRR1.

The Perfect Gift

Six different suitors, six different Coronation Day gifts. Kiara Thorne watches as each suitor gives Prince Liam their gift, and wonders at the bonds they all share with him.

Fashion Faux Pas

You'd think the daughter of one of the most fashionable duchies in the country would be given the absolute best of haute couture. But alas...

Headcanons

Family and House Background

Kiara the Polyglot

Character Playlist

One-shots/Short Fics In This Universe:

A Blossoming Friendship (TRR1)

Rivals and suitors for the Prince's social season, are never really expected to become friends. All that changes - for Lady Hana and Lady Kiara - with one conversation.

Out of the Chrysalis (TRR2): Emerging | Evolving

The "Hana attempts Casual Dating" Fic. WIP.

Petals and Thornes: Main Masterlist

As the Engagement Tour begins post Prince - we mean King - Liam's engagement, ladies of the court Hana Lee and Kiara Thorne embark on new journeys of their own.

Through the court's travels around Italy, Paris, Shanghai, New York - and later, all around Cordonia - the two women learn to let go...of the people who they thought were the Great Loves of their lives...and open themselves to the prospect of something new.

(coming soon!!)

Post P&T

These are fics that will take place after the events of the series...but that I've written before I started the series itself (or that I may write alongside the series)

Fics

Rose Gold

Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

Batalla del Vino

It's the Haro Wine Festival! Kiara and Hana spend a day in La Rioja, Spain, getting into a messy wine fight of epic proportions!

Laylat al-Henna

It's the night before Kiara and Hana's wedding! What fun things do Kiara's cousins from Fes have in store for their henna night?

Reader Fatigue

Over a year after she has settled in with her wife in Cordonia, why does Hana not feel the same joy when she reads??

Hindsight is 20/20

Hana and Kiara travel to England...after recieving a letter from Hana's former fiancè. Hana explores her journey as a bi woman in a walk down memory lane.

Headcanons

Hana and Kiara's Wedding

The Lee-Thorne Children

Click here to check out the Side Stories in P&T Masterlist!

--

*Some of the fics in the "Get to Know..." sections are written in the timeline of the Petals and Thornes series...as and when I add chapters closer to when those events occur, I will shift them to the series list itself.

** Petals and Thornes will reference another series of mine: Eleanor's Kitchen. That series takes place in the same universe and you will find recurring characters and relationships from this fic in P&T.

#hana lee #kiara theron #hana x kiara #hana lee x kiara theron #the royal romance #fanfic series #petals and thornes #petals and thornes masterlist #fanfic series masterlist #i can finally INTRODUCE this baby to the world!! 😃😃😃

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @irondadandspidersonzine! Strictly movie-verse, because that’s really where I see this type of relationship (comics…not so much). I wanted something that took place post-Endgame—I kinda wish the movies/shows would explore the characters/world picking up the pieces after everything was said and done. Maybe a series of vignettes? (but alas, action genre, so I’ll take what I get).

Also my apologies to Rhodey, you are mentioned everywhere in this story but I didn’t get to write you in. T_T

…

…

…

…

Every day, on her way to school, Morgan walked past her father’s statue. Not that she had to go out of her way for that; it was hard to spit in New York without hitting something celebrating the Avengers. There were murals and plaques and even a softball team (they were always second last). Houses had garden Hulks and there were at least three streets named after Black Widow. It was in fact harder to find a route that didn’t have anything.

Still, the statue that Morgan passed every day was special. It was a copper, life-sized version of her dad, of Tony Stark and not Iron Man. There was a single, long crack that along the back, and she used to imagine that bugs made their home inside, that if she cracked open the metal casing a huge butterfly would escape. Her mom didn’t like seeing it, but Morgan would stop at it every day, taking note of how the copper dulled over time, of how the moss slowly crept up the legs. Science had told her it was oxidization that made her father green. Uncle Rhodey had told her it was how Tony looked the first time he flew.

It was more out of habit than anything else that she stopped by him again today. Standing next to him, she rested a hand on her head and compared her height to her father’s. He had an inch on her, maybe two, her head almost reaching his eyes. At fifteen, Morgan had maybe a few more months left in her growth spurt, a year or two if she was very lucky. Her mother had at least two inches on her short dad, so there was a chance that she’d grow taller than him. That he’d have to look up at her.

There wasn’t a statue for that.

She didn’t want to grow.

-x-

“What did you say you were working on again?” Uncle Peter asked, his hologram walking through her messy workshop as he took in the scattered metal scraps and discarded tools. There was something uncanny by how soundlessly he moved, about the way his fingers disappeared into tables and chairs. It was ghostlike.

(In case of my untimely death, her father had started, and she had spent years watching and rewatching that hologram, memorizing the pauses between his words.)

But Uncle Peter was alive, she had seen him just last week, and the blue pallor of his skin was just the light from U’s lights. The robot followed him around, its camera fixed firmly on Peter’s figure. Its metal feet sounded heavier in comparison to Peter’s silence.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Morgan sighed and scratched her head. Dressed in a pair of overalls and smudged with oil, she looked like a proper grease monkey. Her mother wouldn’t be happy. Her lips would thin, her eyes narrow, the face of a CEO who had fought many a hostile takeover. Morgan wondered how many times her father had faced that sight, how many times they locked horns and battled. Her mother had said a few times, Peter claimed none, and Happy admitted it was all the time; the truth most likely lay in-between. Maybe it was more than how many times she and her mom fought.

She hoped it wasn’t less.

Peter coughed and she snapped back to the present. Hastily getting up, she rubbed her hands against her pants, removing any oil before she headed to the table. “A better mask for Iron Man.”

“Oh.” Peter’s breath hitched. One day, she would recognize that sound for what it was, for the pain held in it. He was only ten years older than her, a gap that felt like forever at her age. Peter was an adult, he was always an adult, but he had only been a kid when her father died. For all that he’d experienced, he was only twenty-five now. It was a young age, comparatively. It was too young for all wounds to have healed.

But right now she was fifteen and everyone over twenty was old. She hadn’t yet learned of real regret. Only of loss, of the absence that someone could leave in someone’s life. Morgan picked up her prototype of the mask. The bright red and yellow metals contrasted wildly to her grease-stained fingers. “I can’t get the chip to work.”

Peter’s voice returned to normal, not that she’d noticed. “Maybe you didn’t smoulder it right? It’s very precise after all, lots of fine-tuning is needed. Pretty easy to make a mistake there.”

“I don’t think so, but maybe.” Morgan shrugged. She leaned on the table, pointing at her design sketches. “What do you think?”

“Me? Hmm…” Peter leaned forward. His eyes widened. “What’s that you’re making?”

“Huh?” Watching as he studied a schematic, his fingers hovering over the paper, Morgan remembered just what was on the table. Idle sketches of a fanciful robot, blueprints of an idea she wasn’t sure she wanted to make. She almost tripped over her feet as she grabbed her drawings. “T-that’s nothing! Just ignore it!”

“Nothing?” Peter looked at her, raising a brow. “That’s definitely not nothing.”

“It is!” she insisted, hugging the large papers close. They crumpled in her grip, bending to the curves of her body. “Look at the real schematic. Please.”

For a moment, Peter said nothing, and she feared he would press the issue. Then he leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “If you say so—”

Only Peter wasn’t actually here, in this room. No, he was miles away in his office in New York, an office where there wasn’t actually a table there, and he let out a surprised yelp as he fell through the desk. After a few seconds, his head rose from the center of the table, a sheepish look on his face. “Don’t know how I keep doing that.”

Morgan laughed, a rough thing. She calmed, relaxing her death grip on her sketches. “Me neither. You should try leaning over an actual table or something.”

“Don’t tell MJ, okay?” Peter pleaded, rubbing his forehead. Holograph technology now was far better than it was in her father’s time, and she could see the red from the bump. “She laughs at me enough as it is.”

“That’s cause you give her a lot to laugh at,” Morgan retorted. She thought her father might have made a joke like that. Yet she was ever her mother’s daughter and she smiled. “Fine, I won’t.”

Peter sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Thanks—”

“But only if you figure out what’s wrong with the chip,” Morgan interrupted. It wasn’t smiles that won her mother her position, after all.

“You’re a taskmaster,” Peter grumbled good-naturedly, pouring over the sketches and blueprints once more. He didn’t say anything as she carefully folded her other sketches and hid them away in a drawer.

-x-

“Morgan! It’s time!”

Dimly, Morgan registered her mother’s voice. Numbers and code swirled around her brain, a tempest of possible solutions and answers. They were all half-formed, waiting to be examined, chosen, and worked on. As she shifted through them, she subconsciously analyzed the white noise of her mother’s voice, pulling apart the tone. Her mom didn’t sound urgent. That meant it didn’t have to happen now. “I’m coming,” she uttered noncommittedly, her eyes still trained on her laptop as she adjusted the code to her chip.

Several successful brainstorming sessions with Uncle Peter and she had it, the final piece to the puzzle. All that was left was the fixes and testing. Then again, testing was always half the work in the first place. Maybe if she—

“Morgan! Hun, come on, we have to get dinner started now!”

The second time, her mother’s voice pulled out of her thoughts harder. Words filtered in, demanding to be registered. Morgan stared blankly at the clock on her laptop, at the small white digits declaring 6:35pm. Dinner. 6:35pm. Mom. The words ran through her mind several times before she comprehended them.

“Don’t make me come up there!”

“Shit!” she hissed, almost dropping her laptop as she hurriedly got up. “Coming! I’M COMING!” The last time this happened, her mom actually had dragged her down by the scuff of her neck like she was some wayward kitten. That would have been bad enough on its own, but Rhodey and Peter had been there and she was pretty sure they still had pictures.

Pictures which she still couldn’t forcibly delete, unfortunately.

As she scrambled into the kitchen, panting, Morgan yelped, “I’m here! I’m here!”

“I can see that,” her mother replied wryly, grabbing her apron off a hook. “Remember to breathe.”

Morgan shot her a dirty look. Honestly, it was nice that they cooked together once a week, a guaranteed time where they both had to be present for dinner. It was fun, experimenting with different foods, discovering just how bad they both were at cooking. Morgan was too impatient and her mom too precise, which led to mishap more often than not.

Still, there was something grating about getting pulled out of her work. Morgan grumbled, “You didn’t have to threaten.”

“Only way to get you here,” her mother replied cheerfully, rolling up the sleeves to her good mint blouse. Even though she wasn’t wearing her work clothes, she still looked nice. Morgan was convinced there was nothing in her mother’s closest that was even close to the ratty t-shirts her uncles liked to relax in. “If you don’t want me to threaten, come at the first call.”

“Fine.” Calming down, Morgan glanced at the kitchen counter, silently counting the supplies neatly organized there. 2 packages of ground meat. A 5kg bag of potatoes. 7 bottles of a variety of sauces. A plastic bag full of beansprouts. 3 containers of panko breadcrumbs. As she studied the salad supplies, she asked, “Is someone coming for dinner?”

Her mom’s face scrunched as she shook her head, her hands carefully tying her apron strings behind her back. “No, why?”

“Are we making a feast then?” Morgan pulled her own apron off the hook, slipping into it. It was slightly frillier than her mom’s, a practical blue checkered pattern mixed with pretty green lace. Unfortunately, the large sauce stain on the front marred the whole thing. “That’s a lot of food.”

“That…” Pepper trailed off as she looked at the food on the counter. Sheepishly, she giggled. “Well, it’s a hard recipe and you know how we are in the kitchen. I just wanted backups in case we made a mistake. I might have went overboard with that, huh?”

Morgan held up her hand, pinching together two fingers. “Just a little.”

“Alright, alright, no need to be a smartass.” Her mother rolled her eyes playfully. “One thing I’ve learned, it’s better to be prepared than to worry later.”

She wondered if that had to do with her father or the Avengers. “I think you might be too prepared.”

“We can always call over Peter after, he eats like an elephant anyways.” Pulling out a tablet, her mother set it down on the kitchen counter. “We’re going to make croquettes, okay? And this strange little salad this cook recommends with it.”

“That sounds fancy.” Morgan leaned forward, scratching her neck as she read the recipe.

“Nothing too bad.” Opening a cupboard, her mom started to pull out small jars of spices. There was no consistency to the different spices they owned, each bought for a recipe that would only get used again six months down the line. “Sorry we had to move this down a day, it took longer than I thought to finalize that merger.”

“It’s okay.” Morgan reached into a drawer and pulled out their plastic cutting boards. “You got it?”

“Yeah.” Her mom looked over her shoulder and winked. “Like there was any doubt.”

And her mom liked to call her cocky. Morgan snorted. “You did need extra time.”

“You can’t rush some things.” Spices found, she closed the cupboard. Reaching down into a cabinet beneath the counter, she rifled through the mess of pots and pans as she searched for a mixing bowl. “That reminds me, Peter told me you were working on something new.”

“Yeah…” Morgan hoped he didn’t mention her new invention. She’d grabbed the sketches before he could study them too deeply, but his memory was surprisingly good when it came to tech. “I wanted to make some changes to Dad’s…” The word didn’t sound quite right. Not like Mom did. She had always called him Daddy, still thought of him as Daddy, but she was too old for that childish nickname now. Clearing her throat, she continued, “Dad’s helmet. I wanted to make it more efficient.”

“You’re what?” Her mom paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully. A shadow flitted across her face, so fast Morgan almost missed it. It was the same expression she’d see sometimes when her mom stood at the threshold to the lab, her jaw tight, her eyes narrowed. At the threshold, but never crossing it. Her mom almost never entered the lab, not if she could help it. “Honey, it’s fine to tinker, but those suits aren’t to be used anymore.”

“It’s for Uncle Rhodey,” Morgan quickly lied, before her mother could shut down the project entirely. “I can’t exactly work on his helmet, right? So I’m using this one as a practice one.”

Brow furrowed, her mom stared at her suspiciously. She wasn’t buying it. “Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, it’s a surprise.” Morgan forced a smile. She’d heard her father was a great liar. She had inherited none of that ability. “A big one. We all want Uncle Rhodey to be safe, right?”

Her mom sighed exasperatedly and went back to work. Grabbing several potatoes, she started to wash them. “Alright, let’s pretend that’s the case. Just be careful with it, okay?”

“R-right!” Sighing with relief, Morgan slumped slightly. Tension left her body quickly. Weakly, she set a pot of water to boil on the stove. “That’s why Uncle Peter’s helping me.”

“‘Uncle’, huh? I bet he doesn’t like that.” Shifting to the cutting board, she started to carefully slice the potatoes. Her eyes were focused on the board but Morgan knew better than to trust her attention was fully on it.

“A little.” Morgan grinned slyly. “Part of why I call him that.”

“You brat.” Her mom chuckled. “You’re just like Tony, you know that?”

“I am?” Morgan stopped working, turning to her mother. This was new information, possibly. A side to her father she might not know. It was hard to know someone living, impossible to know them dead, and Morgan had to ferret out information like a predator on the hunt. “How?”

“Well, Tony also liked to give people nicknames. Some they liked and others…” Her mom sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, they got used to it. Or beat him up and then got used to it. Tony was an adult brat.” She glanced at Morgan, pointing her knife. “It’s very hard to stop being an adult brat, so make sure you don’t end up like that.”

Shaking her head, Morgan replied, “What’d he call them?”

“Oh, he had so many nicknames, where do I even start? Build-a-bear, Legolas, Manchurian Candidate…oh, there was Capsicle for Steve.” Her mom giggled. “Admittedly, that one is clever, but if I ever told him that, he’d have gotten a swelled head. Besides, he overused them to the point they stopped being funny.”

Morgan was entranced. Her father gave nicknames. Terrible nicknames. Non-stop. “Is that why the robots are called Dum-Me and U?”

“Probably.” Wiping her hand on her apron, she reached over and affectionately ruffled Morgan’s hair. “And that’s why I refused to let him name you. Though I guess in the end, he actually did pick the name.”

“He did?” This she hadn’t heard before.

“Yeah, after my uncle. It was years ago; I didn’t take him seriously at the time.” Her mom’s eyes lowered, her voice soft. She wasn’t looking at Morgan anymore, but at the past, at this Tony that Morgan could only imagine.

When had her father suggested it? Why? She wished her father had recorded more than just his lab, had taken his camera with him everywhere and filmed everything. They made movies now, of his earlier exploits, movies and comic book tie-ins and even an entire novel series. Her mom liked to buy one every now and then and mark out the inaccuracies, circling them with a red pen or pausing the movie so she could retell the tale perfectly. “I like my name.”

“Me too.” Her mom smiled again, back in the present. “I guess he wasn’t entirely bad at it.”

“Mom, why don’t you like going into the lab?” Morgan asked without thinking. She almost covered her mouth afterwards; this wasn’t what she’d intended to ask. Yet…she wanted—needed to hear the answer.

Her mother stroked her chin thoughtfully. “You want to know, huh? Are you sure?” Her voice dropped an octave and she whispered. “Once you know, you can’t go back.”

“Y-yes.” Morgan swallowed. Everything about her mom’s expression screamed serious and just what was she about to hear?

“Alright then. If you’re sure.” Her mom crossed her arms and smiled menacingly. “I hate the lab because you and Tony spend all your time in it.”

Of all the answers she’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. Morgan stared at her blankly, not sure how to respond aside from a few unintelligent huhs.

“You go into it, and then I don’t hear or see you for the rest of the day.” Her mom’s expression was gentle but there was a heavy, crushing weight to her words. “You don’t come out to eat, to exercise, to even sleep—it’s like the lab is the only room in the house. If I call, it takes five tries for you to even notice me. So I hate that lab.”

“O-oh.” Morgan rubbed her arm uncomfortably. Well, it was true that she wasn’t in the best shape. Maybe she could get out of her lab a little more often. “I’ll come down quicker,” she promised.

Her mother beamed, turning back to her cutting board. “That’s a start. Now, get back to work; it’s almost dinner and I’m starved.”

-x-

Morgan remembered her father like this: the scent of oil and spicy cologne wafting off his skin, the sound of his finger tapping on the table as he considered his ideas, the way his beard tickled her cheek when he kissed her. Morgan remembered her father in fragments, in bits and chunks that couldn’t make a whole. She spent hours assembling the jigsaw pieces from her family, twisting and turning her mother’s facts and uncles’ facts so that they aligned. They never did.

Sometimes she liked to sit on the floor of her workshop and watch her father’s old lab recordings. Her father aged before her eyes, the video image becoming sharper and crisper the older he got. Some videos had bits of static, the clip played over and over until bits of data were lost.

He had the mouth of a man who smiled a lot. Sharp eyes glanced at the camera, a sharper mouth making fun of himself as he worked. Her father didn’t look older than Peter did some days. How old would he look now, with grey peppering his hair? Would he even let it? Her mother said he was vain, so maybe his hair would have always been brown.

It was easy to tell the videos where her mom was nearby. Her father, usually keen on his work, was always distracted, his hands fiddling with one useless adjustment to the next. His expression was soft, so very soft, and love shone in his eyes. How did her mom miss it back then? How did her dad not realize it? Morgan couldn’t understand it, it was as clear as day when she watched them together.

Was that how he looked when he was with Morgan? When he held her hand in his big ones, his grip reassuring as he walked her to the kitchen. His eyes must have looked the same. That big love. That wry smirk.

And if she showed him her ideas, her inventions, would his expression have morphed to pride?

There were no pictures, no videos of pride. All that she had were her mother’s words and her imagination.

-x-

At the lobby to Peter’s business, the elderly receptionist looked up from his desk and smiled as Morgan entered the lobby. “Miss. Stark, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Morgan smiled brightly, trying not to bounce. She liked the way he said her name, the little miss tacked to the front. It made her feel grownup. Professional, even.

Ben beamed back, his eyes crinkling as he gestured at the elevators. “Here to see Mr. Parker? Go on ahead, I’ll ring him up.”

It only took five minutes to reach his office, five minutes spent grasping her backpack’s straps tightly and worrying at her lip. Morgan wasn’t sure why she was here. This was pointless. They met often enough as it was virtually, she didn’t need to come here in person.

“Hey, Morgan!” Peter waved at her cheerfully as she entered his office. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind him. “What’s up?”

It was too late; she was here already. Forcing herself to approach his desk, she smiled nervously. “Nothing much, Uncle Peter.”

Immediately he frowned, scrunching his nose distastefully. “Uncle.” He winced. “That makes me sound old.”

Morgan giggled. This was such an old argument, it was almost like a greeting. “You are old.”

“What, want me to start yelling at you to get off my lawn? I’m not as old as you think.” Peter’s cheeks puffed and he pouted. “I’m only ten years older than you.”

“Fifteen,” she corrected, smirking. “Legally.”

“Legally.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t exist for five of those years. Anyways, what’s up?”

“I…I wanted to get your opinion on something.” Morgan swallowed as she took off her backpack and unzipped it. Staring inside at her father’s mask, her fingers brushed against the cool metal. It would be easier to just take this out, to pretend that this was what she wanted to show him. “I…”

When she didn’t say anything, paralyzed over her decision, Peter coughed. “That reminds me, I found something the other day.” Pulling out his phone, he tapped on it a few times before holding the screen out to her.

On it was a picture of her dad, when he was younger. Next to him was a small, beaming teenage boy, his expression a cross between excitement and nervousness. While he wasn’t wearing a mask, the costume he wore made it obvious just who he was: Spider-man.

Peter Parker. Morgan looked up at him. “You look like a nerd.”

“Takes one to know one,” he retorted, chuckling. “This was when Tony almost made me an Avenger.”

“Wait, what?” Morgan stared at the photo again. Peter looked like he had to be her age. There was no way he was any older, he looked so small. “You were going to be an Avenger as a teenager?”

Peter nodded solemnly. “I know. Probably not the best decision, so let’s just say it’s a good thing it never happened.” Pocketing his phone, he added, “You know, Tony made that suit for me.”

That wasn’t entirely new—she’d seen the logs of her father building it. Sensing a story, Morgan sat on Peter’s desk. “Yeah.”

He pursed his lips at the action but didn’t rebuke her. “I’m not sure how he knew my size, but it fit perfectly. Worked really well too. And then he took it away from me.”

Now that, that was new. Morgan’s brow raised. “Why?”

“I wasn’t ready for it at the time.”  Peter shrugged, a rueful smile on his lip. “I mean, I was just fifteen. I couldn’t handle the school dance, let alone fighting crime. Still…” A wry fondness made its way into his tone. “It was tough, but I learned to manage without it. And then after that—there were no end to these tests Tony gave me. He was always pushing me, you know. To break past my boundaries, to go beyond my limits. It’s something he did all the time and he wouldn’t let me do less.”

“Mom said he liked challenges,” Morgan murmured.

“Yeah, that might have been part of it. I mean, he didn’t just train me—or, actually, train me at all, really. But he would celebrate with me and help me out…” Peter paused, his voice growing softer. There was something sad about his expression, something that she couldn’t quite place. “You know…I never had a father…but Tony…”

He trailed off and Morgan finished the sentence for him. “Was like a father?”

“Kinda…He was what I thought a father might be like, you know. I mean, I only knew him for a year. I never…that isn’t that long. I never…got to figure it out.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t cry. Morgan would never know how long it took him to get to that state, to be able to talk about Tony and not break down. “I guess we’re both alike, huh.” He looked up at her now, his face doleful. “Just searching for fragments of Tony.”

“I…”  Morgan stammered, not sure how to respond. Uncle Rhodey had told her father liked to make jokes when he was feeling emotional, masking away his true feelings. She didn’t think she could do that. Slipping off the desk, she reached down and hugged Peter. “Yeah, we are.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry either.

Peter wrapped his arms around her tightly, squeezing her. “Thanks.” Then, patting her back, he asked, “So what was it you wanted to show me?”

Morgan pulled away and glanced at her back. Her father never stopped pushing, inventing, finding something new. She shouldn’t settle for any less either. As she pulled out her own invention, she commented, “You know, Peter, you’re more like a brother than an uncle.”

Peter’s eyes widened before he laughed. “That’s what I’ve been telling you all along!”

-x-

Every day, Morgan passed by a statue of her dad. They were a dime a dozen, each one showing a different expression, a different pose. She wondered if he’d have found them cheesy or liked the attention. She wondered if he’d have taken her to each one, taking selfies as they mapped out their locations.

Today was no different. As Morgan walked home, she glanced at the statue of her dad, with its familiar crack on the back. If she was lucky, she’d be taller than her dad. He’d have liked that, she thought. He’d have mocked himself and said he was in the company of giants.

A butterfly rested on his head, resting up before flying away.

-x-

“Alright!” Morgan clapped her hands as she entered her lab. Dum E and U started up automatically, the machines following her as she walked over to her work bench. Carefully, she rolled up her plans for her father’s mask, her ideas for improving her mother’s suit.

She’d work on them again, one day. Perhaps her greatest tribute to her father would be improving his own inventions. He’d have liked that too. But that day wasn’t today. No, today Morgan was going to start working on her own ideas.

“We’re going to start something new—create a new archive, U.”

#peter parker #spiderman #iron man #pepper potts #morgan stark #tony stark #marvel cinamatic universe #fanfic #i should have posted this a while ago #but i can say that about everything i post really

[mottemotte]

Surveys I Stole!!!!!!!

mostly stolen from lyric mwa mwa

tag yourself: what ice cream flavor are you?

made by lady glamcat ⚜️ 

chocolate

() your name begins with c. 

(x) you have a serious sweet tooth.  

() you’re a night owl.  

() you like mystery/thriller movies.  

(x) you have brown eyes. 

() your hobbies include music or art.  

total: 2/6 

vanilla 

() you enjoy taking baths. 

(x) you read romance novels.  

(x) you have stuffed animals.  

(x) you don’t like drama.  

(x) you think you’re boring.  

(x) your bed sheets are white.  

total: 5/6 

neapolitan  

(x) you’re terrible at making decisions.  

(x) you love pop or emo music.  

() you’re wearing three different colors.  

() your favorite number is 3 or contains a 3. 

() you played a sport in school.

() you mix soda flavors together.  

total: 2/6 

 mint chocolate chip 

(x) green is your favorite color.  

() you have an unusual pet. 

(x) you want an electric car.  

(x) you often spend time outside.  

(x) you brush your teeth 3 times a day.  

(x) you enjoy cooking.  

 total: 5/6 

rocky road 

(x) you love rock music.  

() you workout often.  

() you watch reality shows.  

() you collect rocks.  

(x) you’re kind of messy.  

(x) you like vintage things.  

total: 3/6 

result[s]: THE FACT THAT MINT AND VANILLA ARE MY FAVOURITE FLAVORS TOO. ICONIQUE

also im so torn. do ice baths count for vanilla? and what is an unusual pet. ive had turtles, birds, chinchillas, miniature horses, a near-immortal goldfish, hamsters. also tried to keep a bell cricket once but mom said no

random questions survey

made by jody marie ✿

what is your current ringtone?: if i knew how to set my own, itd be everywhere by fleetwood mac, or the intro of kids by mgmt, but alas im fucking stupid so its the generic "retro love" one my phone came with

what is your zodiac sign?: ur gonna have to try harder than that to get my birthday scrub

what are your preferred pizza toppings?: none :,) im like cheese

are you currently single, in a relationship, or married?: LOL ME? MARRIED? im single never dated. i shoot myself in the foot like its a party trick

do you have any pets? if so, how many? (you can include names if you want): 10+ i cant fucking count!!!!

what is your favorite season?: everytime a new season comes i fall in love with it. ah. the beauty of the spring. and the beauty of the coming summer. could you imagine if we were stuck in one forever. h e l l 

how tall are you?: short, but i think im not short enough to be made fun of anymore? i had a mini growth spurt (SOMEHOW?? SO MANY YEARS LATER???? I HIT PUBERTY IN 4TH GRADE) and i learned how to walk in heels nya

what color are your eyes?: guess i kinda outed myself in the last one huh

if you eat salads, what is your preferred salad dressing?: R A N C H but one time i had this rasberry thing that was good but R A N C H

are you a morning person or night owl?: morning dove 🕊️  (i thought that they were morning doves and not mourning doves bc i always saw them when it was just me awake in the morning!!! :,) dude i was so cute)

do you have any tattoos? if so, how many? (you can include what they are of if you want): no and i think if i ever did it would go horribly bc 1. committment issues 2. i have skin issues. 

do you have any piercings? if so, how many? (you can include what kind if you want): can you believe i used to be a pussy about pain!!!! i had my ears pierced as an infant (my bio family had a single visit with me and said fuck it, stab her) and i never wanted to get them pierced again UNTIL NOW and i have no idea where to get them done woooooooo

have you ever broken any bones? if so, what did you break?: never bitch!!!!!!

have you ever had any surgeries? if so, what kind?: ive had idek how many dental surgeries. yes im insecure about my teeth (I LITERALLY SAID I BRUSH 3X A DAY I WASNT JOKING)

do you play video games?: DUH i played the classics like loz and pokemon as a kid, nowadays... still loz (i got that limited edition tri-force 3ds when it came out!!!) and hades but mostly sky. i dont have as much time to play anymore :,)

what is the last thing you had to eat?: leftover pizza woooooo.........................

what is the last thing you had to drink?: ORANGE JUICE

what is the last tv show you watched?: intentionally? no idea. against my will? whatever fbi show my parents watch non-stop.

what is the last movie you watched?: i think the breakfast club? it was a while ago...

what is the last song you listened to?: Two Out of Three Ain't Bad

have you ever had braces?: dude my dentists can never agree - i had a retainer/spacer thing for a while, then new dentist said nonono u need braces, then new dentist said nonono u need this removed asap, now my new-new dentist says if i dont want braces at my age he understands but he recommends braces. CAN YALL JUST-

have you ever dyed your hair?: i have virign hair. 10000% untouched. never trimmed, never dyed, never permed or anything but im thinking abt a perm.... just maybe. but if youve ever seen a photo of a victorian woman w her hair down. my hair is genuinely that texture/appearance, just shorter (still long but not on the floor alas)

have you ever rode in an ambulance?: yes, i actually wanted to be a paramedic for a while and i did a ride-along and my car-sickness said FUCK NO (i almost threw up on so many old people you cant imagine)

chinese, mexican, or italian food? (pick one): ITALIAN ITALIAN ITALIAN ITALIAN ITALIAN ITALIAN

what are your plans for tonight?: im thinking abt watching league of their own? or but im a cheerleader. not sure

what are your plans for this weekend?: fuck-all (actually maybe cleaning. but. e w)

why did your last relationship end?: never dated lol. but part of the reason ive never dated is i live in the middle of nowhere, which u think means slim pickings, but what it really means is every time i see someone whos hot i think ayyyyy and then they talk to me and i find out they wear tinfoil hats in their spare time. (this is why my friendships end. yes i think finding out someone is diet racist is an ok reason to drop them)

have you ever been to any concerts?: i actually dont get the appeal of concerts at all? i hate people who sing over the music. like shut the hell up i didnt pay to hear you!!!!!!

what is the last thing you spent money on?: ice cream for my mom :)

[intransigente]

it’s  not  fair .      life  seldom  is .      there’s  no  manual  on  how  to  deal  with  grief  ,    the  flashing  images  of  loved  ones  ,    that  last  memory  slicked  with  gore  nascent  in  a  sleep  whose  solitary  exit  is  into  nothingness  ,    the  departure  of  memoria    &&    so  again  he  endures  the  manifestation  of  exodus  slaughtered .      treading  into  that  corridor  of  dream  where  all  resolve  spoken  in  incertitude    &&    only  the  blind  see  swallowed  in  absolute  truth  ,    the  counterspectacle  of  things  ceasing  to  be   —  —  -          ❝      last  i  heard  ,    the  man  i’m  looking  for  travelled  this  way .      hard  to  miss  if  you’ve  seen  him  —      ❞        he  makes  the  mark  of  a  cross  with  his  thumb  on  his  forehead  ,    gesturing  to  some  distinguishing  mark  ,        ❝      only  ,    hardly  anyone  ever  does    &&    he’s  not  the  man  to  leave  behind  traces .      ❞

@wargoer​

#wargoer #♰ ic ; kurapika. #this is short n messy but alas

[mxdotpng]

look at my catgirl!!!

#.text #ffxiv #adaline rozovy #i LOVE HER !!! #the 2B hair looks so good on her idk if i wanna go back.... but her short hair is iconic!!! like thats her!!! #but the 2B hair... #anyway. its shb time #shes depressed now #thats what happens when you get stabbed near the heart fall into a coma and then wait 5 months with all your friends still kinda dead #i changed her title today to 'of the silver fuller' while i was standing vigil outside the fortemps mannor #but i think for shb her title is gonna be 'the redeemed' bc she is finally forgiving herself for all she had done #that being. everything. #the people she killed while fray controlled/blinded her & the people she hurt after with myste #as well as the friends and comrades she couldnt save in ala mhigo & doma #especially tsuyu. addie never forgave her or like. really liked her. but she couldnt help but be like. kind? and patient with her #bc their positions are really similar #adaline had also woken up a few years prior with no memory of anything. shes still relearning things she would otherwise know #specifically reading and writing. she is SO bad at reading and her handwriting is kinda messy. n big words confuse her (im projecting) #and seeing tsuyu get manipulated while she was so vulnerable and then being murdered by one of the ppl who had abused her. #adaline thought for a long time about it #esp abt how. if not a small amnt of people could forgive yotsuyu. of all people. then what abt the ppl adaline knew? #did they forgive addie like others forgave tsuyu? n then. well. after alisaie fell is when the thing w myste happened #and she got her answer. #oc lore makes my brain go hhrnkakandjdnd *infodumps* #i dont wanna change her class in ew BECAUSE being a drk is so important to her and her story. but god reaper is so cool and sexy #being a drk is so important to her... her connection with fray/esteem and myste is like.. #its different having two people in your head be separate from you and the same at the same time. #bc theyre their own people and have had their own lives (in frays case)... but theyre you. n they know your feelings and thoughts and fears #and they know what keeps you up and night and they know how much guilt eats away at you each and every day #n idk... it just feels nice being told by someone whos so close and knows so much that youre forgiven & that you are loved