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her-storybooks · 2 years

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Playing the Part: Aaron Hotchner and Y/N.

Summary: Prompt – Things change better for better or worse. Y/N and Aaron go undercover in a rich gated community charity ball, pretending to be wealthy newlyweds to tease and pull the Unsub into their direction. What else could be teased and pulled out into open air? Author's Notes: The love I have been getting over on Tumblr has been overwhelming! Thank you all so much! I can’t put into words how much you all mean to me! To say thank you, I tried writing a case (instead of using pre-existing ones from the series). It’s a little bumpy and, probably filled with plot holes that I missed and I’m sure others could clean the edges up for me – but you all gave me the confidence to at least try.

So,

you’re going undercover for the first time. Already a pretty big deal. To add to that, you’re going undercover with your boss – the man you’ve been crushing on for almost a year now. Now, a pretty bigger deal. And finally, you’re going undercover with your boss, who you’ve had a crush on for almost a year now, and you’re pretending to be newlyweds moving into a very private gated community. A massive deal.

All these thoughts were rushing around Y/N’s head as she sat in the passenger seat of a rolling SUV. The metal tin jostled about as her hands fidgeted with her phone, with lint on her clothes or dust on the seats. Her chaotic fidgeting contrasted with Hotch’s steady hands as he gripped the steering wheel. The silence was painful! The rumbling of the tires on the road was not enough to block out Y/N’s agonizing thoughts. Hotch seemed comfortable enough, his eyes staying focused on the road and his breathing natural. She tried not to stare, to obsess over the man’s prominent profile, dark hair, and brooding eyes. She tried not to linger on his strong dominating hands, imagining what they would be like roaming her body. What it would be like to have them wrapped around her…

“Shall we go over the case details again?” His voice snapped Y/N out of her juvenile fantasies with his deep booming authority.

“Er, yeah. Okay.” She stuttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out the case file JJ and Garcia had organized for them. “There have been a series of double murders of couples living in a wealthy gated community. All the couples appear to have gone to some sort of social fundraiser 24 hours before the murder. Their homes were obliterated, and family members said the victim’s valuables had been taken from the home and the body. Some Jewellery, watches, etc. But other valuables like TVs, cars, and technology were left behind… oh and diamond earrings were left as well.”

“It wasn’t about the robbery. The Unsub’s collecting trophies. Do we know what the significance of the jewelry was?” “The last victim’s family said there were wedding and engagement rings along with a necklace and watch the couple recently exchanged for their anniversary. My guess is this Unsub isn’t just attacking couples but attacking the concept of marriage. They would have to know the victims well enough to know which items were sentimental to the marriage – not just valuable in the price?”

Hotch hummed in agreement. “These higher-class communities rarely socialize outside their class. The Unsub either lives or works there. News the FBI was snooping around could scare off the Unsub.”

“Hence us going undercover to bait and catch the Unsub in the act.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Should we… should we go over the back story?”

“I think Garcia thought up some of the basics, they should be in the back of the file.” Y/N flipped through the pages until she found Garcia’s flamboyant handwriting in pink stationery with little hearts doodled in the corner.

“I don’t think this is FBI approved.” Y/N laughed, pulling out the pink piece of paper and wafting it in the air. Hotch darted his eyes quickly to the document and saw the flares of Garcia. Y/N was giddy to see a small chuckle escape his lips. “Okay, you are Aaron Steading, and I am the new Mrs. Y/N Steading, previously Y/N Brown. You are a lawyer… lucky you… and I…” Y/N sighed and shook her head.

“What?”

“To quote Miss Penelope Garcia ‘Y/N Steading is a private tutor who previously was a fabulous swimwear model.’ Subtle Pen.” Y/N scoffed, not daring to see Hotch’s reaction to her given alias but suspected she could see a grin in the corner of her eye. “We married two months ago after a 3-year relationship. Awr! Pen even found us his and hers wedding bands.” Y/N looked further at the rings bagged up and attached to the file. There was a bright gold wedding band crafted for Hotch and a matching, slightly thinner band for Y/N. Y/N was surprised to see there was also an extravagant diamond engagement ring, encrusted with sapphires. “Wow! Expensive. A bit showy for my taste. You couldn’t have picked me something more subtle?” She jibed, playing her character.

“Sorry Dear, you know I’m terrible when it comes to jewelry.” Hotch played along, secretly smiling smugly to himself when he heard Y/N’s bold laughter.

Hotch and Y/N pulled up to their new home, an oversized mansion drenched in pearly white paint. Hotch helped Y/N get out of the car as the two pretended not to notice how the mailman looked an awful lot like Rossi and the gardener held a striking resemblance to Morgan. The couple walked up to the grand double door and entered the show home, already furnished, and stocked with food. The two agents scanned the house, looking for any signs of bugs or interference before meeting in the kitchen.

“All good?”

“It’s clear,” Hotch confirmed. “Okay, let’s go over tonight then.”

Despite the series of murders, the social calendar was still in full swing, with members of the community dressed up and attending to drink expensive wine, show off their wealth and earn themselves the attention of a killer. Hotch and Y/N would go as guests to the night’s cocktails and live band events. As the newcomers, they hoped to get the community’s attention, along with the Unsub’s. The rest of the team would be in a house a few doors down from Y/N and Aaron’s. Both agents had a panic button hidden on their person if for any reason they needed their team. In the meantime, the BAU would stay behind closed doors and continue their research and profiling to try and figure out who the Unsub was. In case the profile alone was not enough to identify their killer, Y/N and Aaron were going amongst the vulnerable as bait.

“Cocktails at 8 followed by live music and dancing until midnight. Then come back here, hoping we caught the attention of the Unsub and get attacked in our sleep. Sounds like a fun Friday night.” Y/N joked nervously, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging as spoke.

“We know he goes after the wives first and with the most hatred so you can’t be out of my sight at any time,” Hotch instructed sternly.

“Oooh, red flag!” She winced. “If this marriage is going to work, you need to give me my space. You know I was an independent spirit when you married me.”

“Y/N,” Hotch both warned and begged her at the same time.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “How do you want to play this? We know we have to get the Unsub’s attention, so we need to stand out from the crowd.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Hotch asked, now leaning, and relaxing on the counter himself.

“Well, we could be one of three couples.” She counted on her hands as she spoke, raising a finger to label each scenario. “There’s the couple who hate each other and spend the whole time making a scene and arguing. The couple who can’t hold their drink and therefore make a fool of themselves with karaoke and dancing on tables...”

“I vote we don’t do the second one,” Hotch interrupted.

“Or there’s the lovely couple who makes everyone uncomfortable with how happy they are.”

“Victimology says all the couples were happy and only married a year or so.”

“So…”

Silence washed over the kitchen as the two tried to hide their awkward blushes. Suddenly a spot on Y/N’s shoe was very interesting.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N.” Aaron broke the silence, he was always so sweet. He was so worried about upsetting her or not appearing proper. Y/N took pity and looked up to meet his eyes, smiling kindly.

“Let’s just, play the part. If I feel uncomfortable, I promise I’ll tell you. But only if you agree to the same!” Y/N jumped off the counter, presenting her smallest finger to engage Hotch in a pinkie promise.

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow as Y/N reminded him of his young son.

“Really.” Y/N nodded with a stern expression on her face. Hotch rolled his eyes and hooked his smallest finger around her.

“Promise.”

“I’m not sure about this!” Y/N called from the walk-in wardrobe.

“About going undercover?” Hotch called back, buttoning up the rest of his black shirt from the master bedroom.

“No!” Y/N replied. “This dress Pen sent over. It’s not exactly subtle.” Hotch laughed to himself. Anything involving Penelope Garcia would not be subtle.

“Is there anything else you can wear?” he offered.

“Nope! She only packed the one dress, with a note stuck onto it saying, ‘Wear the damn dress or else!’” Hotch smiled again, wandering towards the closed wardrobe doors.

“I think you’re stuck then.” He heard Y/N hum in agreement before she grunted in frustration. “You okay?”

“I can’t get this damn zip up! Oh! Hold on…. Ouch!” he heard the crash and stumble of Y/N and could only picture what acrobatics were going on in there.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked, trying to make sure his voice didn’t waver. There were a few moments of silence followed by…

“Yes please.” A meek response came from the other room. Hotch pushed the door open slowly, stepping in and observing the carnage in the room. Shoes and items of clothing had been knocked over causing havoc amongst the shelves. But that wasn’t where his attention was going.

His eyes fell straight onto the sight of Y/N’s exposed back. Her elegant spine unprotected with the back of her dress falling deliciously open. She was standing in front of the mirror, holding her hands to her chest to stop the cream dress from exposing any more of her body. Her hair was swept to one side, glossy and shining. Her feet were bare, shoes laying on the floor. She looked up at him through the mirror as he stalked over towards her. When he met her eyes, her nerves failed her, her eyes went back to the floor. Hotch forced his hands to steady as one palm rested on the curvature of her hip. When his fingertips accidentally brushed the skin above the zipper, he heard Y/N gasp lightly, shudder even. The zip was stiff, no wonder she was having such difficulty. He had to tighten his grip on her waist as he forced the zip to glide up her back and rest just below her shoulder blades. Even though the task had been complete, Hotch couldn’t bring himself to take his hands off Y/N. They stood there, his hand on her hips and staring deeply at her reflection. Her hands fell from her chest, now secure in her outfit. He could see now why Garcia had picked this dress for her. It hugged her figure perfectly, not hiding and curve on her body. The neckline dipped, exposing just slightly more cleavage than he imagined Y/N was comfortable with. But it exposed her elegant neck and shoulders beautifully.

She finally looked up, meeting his eyes through the mirror. Her bright doe eyes could make Hotch do anything she wanted.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Hotch felt reality hit him again, his hands fumbling away from her body and stepping backward.

“You’re welcome. Be ready in 15 minutes.” He practically ran out the door, leaving Y/N’s skin burnt from his touch and her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

Y/N stepped out into the warm summer night, heels tapping on the stone floor as she walked to meet Hotch at the bottom of the drive.

“You look good,” Y/N commented, taking in his dark suit. “But something is missing.” Hotch frowned looking down at his outfit for whatever was missing. Had he forgotten a button, was his zipper down? Y/N smiled as she teased, pulling her hand from behind her back and presenting Hotch with a black leather box. “Happy 2-month anniversary.” Hotch laughed in understanding, digging into his pocket to pull out a smaller blue velvet box.

“Great minds.” The couple smiled as they exchanged boxes. The gifts were bait, along with their obvious wedding rings. They were symbols of their marriage that they had to flash and show off to the members of the community. Hotch opened the box to see an expensive dark brown vintage Rolex in perfect condition. Y/N was greeted with a white gold necklace with a subtle but clear diamond dangling in a pendant.

Across the street, a man left his house. He was dressed in a flashy grey suit and leather brown shoes. “Miranda! Come on!” he yelled into the house. “We’re going to be late!” He looked at Hotch and Y/N with brief intrigue, pressing the start button on the game the two agents were about to play.

“Here,” Y/n stepped closer to Hotch, ready to play her part. She took the watch from the box and reached to hold Hotch’s wrist in her hand. She wrapped the watch around his wrist before stroking the top of his hand lovingly. The box was left on the floor as they smiled at one another, only half pretending to enjoy the intimacy.

“May I?” Hotch asked, nodding towards the necklace. Y/N turned around, gathering her hair out of the way. Hotch gently took the chain out of its box before discarding the packaging along with the other on the floor. The light weight of the necklace met her neck along with the touch of his skin on hers. She tried to keep her breathing steady as he fastened the clasp and let his hands rest on her shoulders affectionately. Y/N turned in his hands looking up at him with a comforting gaze. She reached up on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“Happy 2-months.”

“MIRANDA! COME ON!” The man’s impatient yelling made the two agents jump and part slightly. They both laughed before linking arms and began walking to the hall.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they stepped into the ballroom. It was like walking into an old renaissance painting. The guests were extravagant, drenched in jewels and colors that sparkled in the low light. The dark mahogany floor was the perfect backdrop for billowing skirts of magenta, emerald green, and bright turquoise. Y/N looked at the men in tailored suits, their understated nature meant to only bring out even more attention to their well-painted wives. Y/N was beginning to wonder if she should have asked Garcia for a brighter colored dress. She tried to look past the peacocks roaming the grounds and took more time to take in their surroundings. The ceilings appeared as if they would go on forever, dipped with pure white paint with golden accents. There were deep carvings and molds incorporated into solid wood, adding more elaborate decorations alongside the shining crystal chandeliers. A live band was situated in the center of the room, large and beautiful instruments producing sweet melodies that no one was dancing to.

“This is beautiful,” Y/N said aloud to herself.

“If you like this sort of thing,” Aaron murmured as they began walking towards the bar.

“What do you mean? It’s so grand and expensive!”

“I prefer understated beauty. A real beauty.” His eyes roamed across Y/N, bringing a heavy blush to her cheeks. With the way he was smiling at her, she suddenly felt more superior to any rich millionairess in this room. In a grand ball of women in expensive gowns, he was only interested in her. Just her in a simple black dress. Before Y/N had the time to remind herself that this was all an act, this was him playing the part, a young man with the beginnings of facial hair appeared beside them.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked politely.

“Yes, a scotch and…” Aaron ordered Y/N’s favorite drink, surprising her that he had that knowledge in his brain at all. And yet he did.

Their drinks were presented in crystal glasses, frosted as they had been kept cool. The two undercover agents clinked glasses in cheers and swallowed small sips. Aaron stepped close enough to rest his and on the lower of Y/N’s back, keeping her close as they scanned the other residents in the room. They were all couples. Women rested on their husband’s arms, batting their eyelashes, and smiling obediently. The men nodded grandly at other men, all with an air of arrogance Y/N couldn’t imagine Aaron possessing. The women laughed at jokes they hadn’t listened to, and men groped at women that weren’t their wives. They both watched as the man from the street earlier, appeared with his wife on his arm. She was dressed in a bright pink dress that fell off the shoulder, lipstick matching the shade of fabric she was drenched in. They walked in together, already bickering about something. But the moment another man and his wife approached, they painted on false smiles and leaned into one another. Hotch and Y/N both raised their eyebrows, a profiler’s mind never resting.

“Hypocritical, right?” the agents both turned back around to meet eyes with the bartender.

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked.

“A lot of couples around here are like that. They pretend to be perfect on the outside, but they’re only together to save face.”

“You sound like an expert in that field,” Aaron commented with a suspicious squint, his hand gripping tighter around Y/N’s waist.

He’s just playing the part; he’s just playing the part – Y/N echoed to herself.

“People around here talk as if there isn’t staff everywhere. You can usually tell how recent an argument is based on how flashy the newest diamond the wife is wearing.” The bartender laughed bitterly before another patron beckoned his attention.

Aaron and Y/N turned back to the hall; their suspicions of fake happy marriages were confirmed.

“We need to mingle, don’t we?” Y/N groaned.

“I’m afraid so. Where do you want to start?” The two both looked around the room, trying to figure out who to approach first. “How about the peacocks over there?” Hotch nodded towards a couple standing by the large grand window. They were wearing heavily patterned outfits, rings on most fingers and designer logos on their bags and watches. A small crowd of people had gathered around them, listening to their every word. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head.

“It would look too needy. Like we’re trying to get people’s attention, not be dismissed right away. What about them?” Y/N nodded towards a couple hovering by the buffet. Their outfits were dark, blending into the shadows. Hotch shook his head.

“Not flashy enough, we’ll just blend into the background. We need the elite social members to come to us. But how?” Y/N knew Aaron was just talking to himself now, thinking out loud and trying to come up with a strategy.

“I know.” She snaked her hand around her back, taking his hand and pulling him with her as she walked across the polished wooden floors. Aaron was preparing himself to be pulled into social interaction, to play his character in full. But suddenly Y/N stopped walking. She turned to face him with a nervous smile on her face. He squinted down at her in confusion. Her small hands skimmed up his chest and behind his neck. He felt her fingers brush against the tuff of his hair as they entwined and locked. “Wrap your hands around my waist.” She whispered quietly.

“Why” Hotch frowned, not aware that his hands were already following her instructions.

“Because married couples usually hold each other whilst they dance.” She hushed up towards him. Aaron’s eyes darted around as he became aware of where they were standing, and that they were the only ones standing there.

“Y/N, no one else is dancing.” He protested lightly. Y/N lifted on her toes, her lips coming to rest by the side of Aaron’s face. With her scent encapsulating his senses, the tickle of her hair against his cheek, his grip on her dress tightened.

“Then we’re bound to get their attention.” Her light and breathy voice ran through him, intoxicating him more than any brand or scotch could. She returned to her normal height with a cheeky smirk on her face. He was bewitched. He laughed and shook his head as he settled his palms spread across her back.

“You know I’m a terrible dancer. Remember our wedding?” he may have been talking like someone else, but the glint in his eyes was all Aaron Hotchner.

“You mean when you stumbled over my dress and fell into the wedding cake?” “Yes, that.” Aaron laughed.

“Well, then I guess you can use tonight to redeem yourself.”

The two held one another, teasing and playing their roles, but still not dancing. It wasn’t until the casual background music melded into a familiar melody that Aaron began to move his feet lightly.

I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me And when I'm away from you I love how you miss me I love the way you always treat me tenderly But, darling, most of all I love how you love me

Y/N felt a tingle across her skin as Aaron’s arm snaked around her waist. His nervous unsure hands that had been hovering on her hips, were now moving with intent. He released one hand to reach and grab one of hers. Their hands. entwined together, rested on his chest. Y/N could feel the heavy beating of his heart from underneath their clasped hands. Eager to feel more sensations of Aaron, her spare hands stayed settled around the back of his neck. Her fingers and thumb slowly brushed and played with a tuff of hair, matching the rhythm of their feet. His short hair felt soft against her skin, tickling her fingertips as her nails scratched comfortingly at his scalp.

I love how your heart beats whenever I hold you I love how you think of me without being told to I love the way your touch is always heavenly But, darling, most of all I love how you love me

Aaron felt her body beating in his arms and suddenly he felt far too warm, too hot, and overwhelmed by how she managed to encapsulate his mind just by standing before him. He looked down at her, his gaze heavy and burying to meet her eyes. He was a profiler with the ability to read the unspoken words in front of him, but looking at Y/N, all the words blurred and turned to noise. She was playing with his hair, and it made him want to bury his face in her neck, breathe her in, and fall asleep as she stroked and caressed his neck. A blush crossed her face before she ducked her head and placed her cheek on his chest. He held her tightly, squeezing her body close to him and resting his chin on the top of her hair. Both closed their eyes and allowed the music to guide their movements since their minds were too occupied with mapping and memorizing how each other’s hold felt against their skin. The song went on and one by one, couples began to join them on the dancefloor. All of this was unknown to the two agents. They couldn’t care less about whether they had achieved their goal of grabbing people’s attention. Perhaps that lack of care was what pulled everyone’s eyes to the understated and unknown couple alone on the dancefloor, staring deeply and swaying against one another. An involuntary content sigh fell from Y/N’s lips as she closed her eyes and held Aaron’s hand a little tighter. He smiled, pressing a light kiss to the top of her sweet-smelling hair.

I love how you hug me I love how you squeeze me, tease me, please me Love, how you love me I love how you love me

Playfulness bubbled inside Aaron as feelings he hadn’t experienced in years were provoked inside of him. He pulled away from Y/N slightly, enough to make her stand upright, but not enough to separate their bodies. Her wide eyes looked up with the fear of disappointment before transforming into creased laughter and shock. He held her securely and dipped her body backward in an old-fashioned charming dance maneuver. The echo of her laugh radiated amongst the room, ringing in Aaron’s ears. He pulled her up again, pressing a smiling kiss to the temple of her head before pulling her in again, their swaying and comforting movements returned.

The song came to its end, but Hotch and Y/N were holding onto one another as if the melody was still going. They smiled up at one another so brightly Hotch thought he would have to squint. Y/N’s laughter bubbled in her chest as she swooned in Hotch’s embrace, not quite believing the scenario she found herself in. “Aren’t you two adorable!” A screeching voice cut through their moment like a blade. They two turned their heads to see the woman who was standing by the window earlier. Her bright blue and green dress billowing at her waist, her teased hair towering towards the ceiling.

“Oh, hello.” Y/N blushed, leaning into Aaron’s chest. “I’m Y/N and this is my husband, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aaron nodded politely.

“Indeed,” the woman practically purred, staring Aaron up and down. “You just moved into number 16, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right. Our first home together.” Y/N grinned up at Aaron, painting her best gooey look of love on her face.

“Newlyweds!” The woman exclaimed. “Let me see the ring!” The woman reached forward, snatching Y/N’s hand from Aaron’s chest, pulling her towards her eye. The woman squinted looking down at the rings on Y/N’s fingers. Y/N swore she saw dollar signs appear in her irises. “Cartier? No, wait, Aurelia and Pierre!”

“You know your diamonds,” Aaron commented, trying to sound slightly pompous. The woman laughed loudly, dropping Y/N’s hand, and flashing her own, which dripped in gems.

“Is it not obvious?” she cackled. “Yes, my husband,” she sighed. “He manufactures jewelry for all the best designer stores.” Aaron and Y/N shared a look of fake 'impress' as the woman admired the rings on her fingers. “We only like genuine diamonds in this community and me and my husband are adapting at spotting fakes if you get my drift?” The woman eyes the couple suspiciously, communicating a slight warning not so subtly.

“Care to elaborate?” Y/N felt Hotch tighten his grip on her waist, a warning she was pushing it too far.

“Well take those two over there,” The woman pointed to the couple in dark clothing, hiding in the shadows. “You’ll notice they’re over there, and we’re over here. Enough money to get through the gate, but not enough to stay.” Y/N and Hotch spent less time observing the casual guests in the corner and more time watching the disgust on the rich woman’s face. She almost shivered and the imaginary dirt these people could be bringing into her fancy gated community. She turned back to the newest couple in front of her, painting on an obnoxious and fake smile. “But with diamonds like that…” She nodded back to Y/N’s engagement ring. “I’m sure you’ll fit in fine around here. And a matching necklace I see.” The woman now invaded the couple’s personal space, eyeing up the chain around Y/N’s neck.

“Oh! Yes,” Y/N squeaked, being pulled closer to the woman as she pulled the pendant closer. “It was a gift from Aaron. Just a silly little 2-month anniversary gift. Show her the watch I got you, darling.” Y/N breathed heavily with relief when the woman let go of her neck and instead clutched onto Aaron’s wrist.

“Vintage, how exquisite.” The woman’s eyes lit up again, dollar signs in full flow. “Well, duty calls. Best get back to my husband.” She had lost interest in the new couple, caring very little for who they were now she pegged them as upper-class.

“I don’t think we caught your name,” Aaron commented as she began to walk away, happy to have his hand back.

“Beaumont. Mrs. Baumaunt.” The woman threw behind her as she walked away, leaving the couple alone once again.

“How’s your hand?” Y/N laughed, lifting Aaron’s palm upwards to soothe the clawed skin from Mrs. Beaumont’s long fingernails.

“It feels violated. How’s your neck?” he asked genuinely, observing the light red markings from where the woman pulled too hard. He brushed his fingers along it gingerly, testing how tender the skin was.

“It’s fine,” Y/N wrapped her hand around Aaron’s pulling it away from her neck and removing his worry. She kissed his knuckles sweetly. Aaron felt a heat wave through his cheeks.

She is just playing the part; she is just playing the part. - He repeated to himself continuously.

“Let’s get a drink.”

The couple returned to the bar to get another drink, sitting on stools, and chatting happily with one another. Unaware that their every move was now being watched.

They had succeeded in getting the Unsub’s attention.

It was nearing midnight, but the night continued with live music, champagne glasses being poured and clinking against one another. Y/N and Aaron continued to dance, keeping their hands casually on one another and casually showing off their sentimental belongings in conversation. It was easy enough. People were asking questions about how long they had been married. Making the anniversary gifts seem a natural addition to the conversation.

Y/N had been pulled into a circle of wives, all gushing over her necklace and asking her questions about her husband, as Aaron was ushered to a table of men. He kept Y/N in his sights, half listening to the words of rich men around him, half admiring the way the silk dress fell against her body. Admiring how her hair seemed to glimmer when she laughed and shook her head.

“Oh, you can tell the marriage is new! He still has that look in his eyes!” Aaron heard the rumbling of older laughter from the men beside him. He turned to see them smirking at him.

“My apologies.” He smiled politely.

“Give it time, son.” One man grumbled. “That look of admiration for your wife goes after 10 years.”

“George, don’t scare the boy.” Another man whacked his friend playfully. “Besides, you’re spoiling the ending for him.”

“I’m sorry, gentleman but I am still very much in love with my wife.” Aaron kept his tone light, pretending to enjoy the banter being thrown his way.

“That’s what I said when I first moved here.” The man from earlier, shouting at his wife from outside his house spoke with no humor in his tone at all. “Then the wives all start to compete with one another. Who has the most expensive wardrobe? Who can make their husband spend the most money.” The man appeared to be talking to himself, mumbling into his drink bitterly.

“Don’t mind Fredrick,” the man sitting next to Hotch whispered to him. “Mr. Frank is … struggling, let’s say. Used to own two houses in this community. Now he’s renting one out as a holiday home. The wife never got the memo that they were on a budget.” The man nodded over to a bright fuchsia dress, Maria if Hotch remembered correctly, staring enviously at the necklace around Y/N’s neck. An urge of protectiveness came over Aaron as he saw the way the woman was staring intently at the jewel around her neck, and not in admiration or envious fashion. The woman didn’t want a necklace like Y/N’s, she wanted that necklace instead of Y/N.

Aaron got to his feet, taking quick large strides through the crowd to reach Y/N. She didn’t see him coming but felt the sweep of his arm around her waist when he approached.

“Excuse me, ladies, may I borrow my beautiful wife for a moment.” The women all cooed and swooned as Aaron took Y/N to the center of the dance floor and pulled her close to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked as they began to sway again.

“What do you think of Maria Franks? Woman in the pink dress.” He whispered closer into her ear, burying his head in her neck, pretending to be whispering some seductive romantic conversation for those observing their movements.

“Well, she’s not in the inner circle and not happy about it. I thought she was going to snatch the necklace from around my throat.”

“So did I, why do you think I came over here?”

“And here I was thinking you just wanted to dance with your beautiful wife.” Y/N teased, enjoying the ruffled blush that came across Aaron’s face. He shook his head playfully.

“Rumour has it, her husband is having money issues. He’s renting out one of his homes.”

“Really?” Y/N asked, genuine intrigue in her voice. “Maria was boasting about how well they were doing! Showing off her new encrusted clutch.” Y/N put on a snooty voice and scrunched nose that made Hotch chuckle and hides his head in her neck again. Y/N laughed with him, diving her hand to nestle in his dark soft hair.

“So, Mrs Baumaunt and Maria Franks. That’s two suspects we can ask Garcia to check out if we make it through the night alive.” Hotch lifted his head, looking at her was intensity now. He knew she was joking, but the thought of Y/N being in harm’s way hit him like a ball to the stomach. Their plan went through his head again and he had forgotten that they weren’t there just to investigate. They were there as bait. They were hoping to be followed home and possibly attacked. And if the past crime scenes were anything to go buy, Y/N was in more danger than him. “What? What’s wrong.” Y/N asked seeing the concern on his face.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? You’ll be safe.”

“I know,” Y/N nodded her head, her hand stroking the side of his face reassuringly. “I trust you.”

The song they had been swaying to hide their conversation faded. The room turned to clap politely. Y/N and Aron pulled themselves awkwardly away from each other’s bodies to do the same.

“Okay folks! It's officially midnight so this will be our last song. So, here’s your last chance for one last dance.” The band began to play a soft melody and wives pulled their husbands onto the floor one last time.

“One last dance?” Y/N shrugged. Aaron nodded, relieved to pull her into his arms again.

Even though the band had finished their final song, many couples stayed happily seated in the ballroom, talking, and finishing the last of the event's wine. Aaron and Y/N stayed as long as they could, conversing with anyone they might have missed, and even talking to staff. But around 1 am, couples were yawning and agreed to call it a night. Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N had barely shivered before Aaron placed his jacket around Y/N’s shoulders. They walked along the dark paths with their hands wrapped around each other’s smiling and talking as any other couple coming home from a date.

“Did you see the woman in purple?” Y/N laughed.

“She was covered in so much fur, I thought she was a Muppet.” Aaron laughed with her. They came to the bottom of their drive and stopped, looking up at the house and reality crashing down on them once again. They faced one another.

“It’s likely nothing will happen.” Aaron tried to reassure her. If they had succeeded, when they closed the front door and went into their bedroom, it would only be a matter of hours before an intruder broke in, taking out their anger on Y/N more than Aaron, before putting them both in a box labeled 6 feet under.

“I know.” Hotch sighed heavily, knowing no words could bring either of them comfort right now. He stepped forward, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly. She smiled with watery eyes before closing them and indulging herself in leaning towards his touch. Hotch pulled her into his chest, stroking her hair and back in comfort. It was all he could do to stop himself from throwing away all caution and pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him in return, an attempt to comfort him as much as he was comforting her.

A loud scream and clatter came from the distance. Y/N and Aaron ripped away from one another, looking at the houses further down the street. Perhaps someone else had gotten the Unsub’s attention. Y/N watched the alert turn on inside Hotch, she turned and gripped her face in his palms.

“Go inside, lock the door and call the team!” He was already running before Y/N could ask what in hell he was thinking of doing.

“Aaron!” she yelled after him as he sprinted into the dark. “Shit.” She cursed to herself.

Her training and years in the field kicked in. Her cover was no longer something to worry about. Her priority was getting the rest of the team alerted and that Hotch had backup. Her dress wrapped around her legs, slowing her down as she ran up the stairs. When she made it to the door, she was already searching through Aaron’s jacket pocket to find the keys. She had only just put the keys through the lock when the stinging pain ripped through her senses and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The chain that had previously been so carefully planted around her neck, was now digging into her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands clawed at the metal, trying to bury her fingers underneath the chain to protect her skin. Her fingertips had managed to pull the necklace away slightly when it snapped and fell to the ground. Gasping for air Y/N turned and saw a man with a sweaty face in a blue and black tux breathing heavily and eyes burning at her. He screamed furiously, his hands diving towards her neck and pushing her against the door of the house. Y/N tried to scream, tried to reach for something to push the man away, but his grip was desperately tight around her throat. Her vision was fading to black. There was an agonizing ringing in her ears as the blood pooled in her head. His knee dug into her stomach, pining her further into place. Just as her eyes began to close, there was a loud bang that echoed around her. She couldn’t see but she felt the weight of something heavy fall against her, crushing her to the floor – but now she could breathe.

She pushed away whatever weight was pressing down on her and rolled onto her stomach. She gasped desperately, still trying to scream for Aaron. She felt the padding of hands on her arms, but with the lack of sight to guide her, she panicked. She fought back, punching and hitting as hard as she could.

“It’s me! Y/N it’s me!” she heard Aaron’s fearful voice, followed by the blurry shapes of him coming into focus. Her hands finally stilled as she felt Hotch’s thumb brushing up and down her pulse point. She couldn’t whisper his name; she couldn’t ask him what was going on. She looked around and saw the man lying face down on the floor, a violent bullet wound oozing blood out the back of his head. She saw the gun discarded on the floor and recognized the standard FBI issue. A picture was being painted in her head, her breathing shallow and becoming rapid. Everything was noisy, everything was blurry. Aaron put his hands on either side of her head again, pulling her attention to him. “You’re okay. It’s over.” He said it over, and over again. He continued to repeat it even after she began to sob a silent scream and fell into his chest.

The papers would report the headlines, but the details were typed up in a government report and filed in the FBI database. Desperate times had led Maria and Fredrick Franks to turn on their community. After being fired by Mrs Baumaunt’s husband, the couple struggled to keep up with the appearance and expectations of living in this gated community. Sick of the other wives looking down on them, Maria manipulated her husband into standing by as she broke into couple’s houses and stole their jewelry. But as they always do, things escalated. The couples woke up and the husband-and-wife team attacked. As burglary turned to murder, the guilt ate away at Fredrick and increased his drinking. That was until one night, after another charity event of dancing, after hearing his wife bitch and complain about the latest couple to join their community. After hearing how they had been approved into the inner circle almost immediately and how she wanted what they had. He was drunk, he snapped, and he shot her. But then what? The cycle wasn’t complete. After they killed, they had some sort of prized possession to either keep or sell. So, Fredrick followed his wife’s last want and went after the necklace of the new woman on the block. But this woman was an agent, with the backup of her partner who witnessed the attack and was able to grab his gun from his ankle holster and shoot him in the head.

All of this would be in the report, but the facts that wouldn’t make it to print were that Aaron Hotchner spent over an hour pacing back and forth, waiting for a medic to appear from behind an ambulance and give him the thumbs up. The team was throwing questions at him, faster than he could answer. So, he stopped answering and started pacing.

Y/N sat on the ambulance bed, trying not to wince too dramatically as the medic checked her bruising for any open wounds. She checked her vitals along with her brain’s basic functioning and wrapped her in a blanket for the shock.

“I want you to take it easy for a few days. Physically you’re okay but you might have delayed shock.” Y/N nodded silently.

“Can you…” she coughed, her voice still raspy and returning to her. “Can you get Agent Hotchner?” The medic nodded with a light smile and disappeared to go and retrieve Aaron. Y/N barely had a second to take a deep breath before he was rushing to her side.

“Y/N,” he breathed desperately, hands holding her face, gently turning her cheeks left and right to check her neck.

“Hotch,” Y/N tried to calm him. His hands kept fussing. “Hotch, please.” She felt the tears brimming in her eyes. “Aaron,” tears finally fell down her cheek, the splash of cold water on the tips of her fingers finally halting Aaron’s fevered worry. His eyes met hers, bloodshot and wide, filling with his own tears.

“Oh Y/N,” he pulled her into his neck, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling the vibration of her sobs against him. Her hands wrapped around his body and clang to him painfully tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should never have left you.”

“No,” Y/n managed to splutter out, pulling away enough to stay in Aaron’s arms but far enough to see his face. “You did the right thing. You saved me.” She gave him a watery smile, her hands coming to his cheek to wipe away his tears. “I didn’t ask you here for you to say sorry. I wanted to tell you…” the words got lost in her throat again, a painful cough erupting from her chest. Aaron pulled away to rub his hand against her back as she spluttered. She looked up at him and laughed slightly. “The entire time that guy was choking me, do you know what I couldn’t stop thinking?”

“What couldn’t you stop thinking?” he whispered.

“I never thanked you.” Aaron looked at Y/N with tearful confusion. “For tonight. I know you were just playing the part but… keeping your hand on my back. Dancing with me.” She chuckled before blushing and looking away at the ground. “Kissing my head and holding my hand... I know you were playing the part but…”

She’s said that twice now – he thought - She sounds… disappointed?

“But it meant a lot.” She admitted, finally looking up with an embarrassed smile.

“Y/N,” his hand returned to rest on her cheek, feeling like its natural resting place. “I was not just playing the part.”

“You weren’t?” she sniffled.

“No.”

Both of their breathing seemed to halt and freeze in their chests as they realized how close they were to one another. Aaron felt the tear moisture on her soft cheek underneath his palm, the silk of her dress underneath his hand as it fell to her knee. Y/N saw the change in his eyes as his hand left her knee and joined her on the other side of her face. Had she leaned into him? Or had he pulled her in? The questions left her mind as her eyes fluttered close and his lips pressed firmly onto her. A brief kiss. It lasted only a couple of seconds, barely enough time for Y/N to fall into the kiss before Aaron pulled away. He scanned her face, trying to take in her reaction. “Were you… just playing the part?” he asked nervously.

“No.” she shook her head quickly, head still cradled in his hands. The relieved smile on his face was the last thing Y/N saw before she took initiative. This time she knew she had leaned into him. She knew she clung to his shirt and pulled him closer to her as their lips merged. Their lips caressed one another more this time, but both agents kissed slowly – desperate to make the encounter last. Desperate to map and memorize every taste of expensive wine. Every smell of each other’s cologne and perfume. Every feeling of their beating hearts and every feeling of soft lips against slightly coarse lips.

Waves of emotions and exhaustion washed over Y/N as Aaron pulled away lightly, resting his forehead against hers. Everything had changed now and neither knew if it was for better or worse. But right now, Y/N and Aaron both took great comfort as Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head into his neck. Her eyes went hazy and heavy as the emotional toll of the evening caught up to her.

That night Aaron would watch carefully as Y/N reassured their team that she was fine, that she just needed rest. Aaron would offer to drive her back to her apartment, with no suspicious eyes from the team. This was an understandable move on his part. He would hold her hand as they drove to her building. He would keep his hand on the lower of her back as they walked to her door, and he would check the locks on her doors and windows as she changed into her pajamas. She would giggle as he tucked the duvet around her body and order her to get a good night’s sleep before kissing her forehead. Just as he went to pull away, whispering his ‘goodnights,’ she pulled up and pulled him to kiss her lips.

Aaron was smiling the entire drive home to his son. He was still smiling as he checked his son was sleeping well. He was still smiling as he settled himself into bed and went over the memories of dancing and kissing her.

#Aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #reader insert #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fic #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #Aaron Hotchner oneshot #pining #mutual pining #Aaron Hotchner fluff #prompt

77 notes · View notes

internet-overdosed · 1 year

Text

♪The phenomenon called internet angel

Is one postulated, organic alternating-current-lamp

Adorable rainbow illumination (Peace!)

(A complex of all transparent accounts)

This disgusting, icky-yucky shithole of a reality

Will all be wiped from your minds by the angel of charity, me!

Oh, but don’t tell any of the adults, okay?

Everything’s going to be all right, don’t be afraid now

Now log off all your social media and we’ll go see the ocean together

LET’S ALL QUIT THE INTERNET!

You pretend to understand, but you know nothing, do you?

Oh, what is sadness, really, now? What do you think loneliness is? Are you listening?

Can you all interact with me, but also get away from me? On it loops…

My favorite time of day is night, but it gets so cold by myself… Someone hold me please.

TBH I know I can be happy,

but I can’t stop pretending I’m not

I won’t let the haters get to me! I won’t suck up to my fanatics!

No matter how much work I put in,

I know I’m going straight to hell

Nah, I’m probably in one of the circles already

Likes are the best lawyer in hell

The hypocrite’s trap of the spider’s thread

But even as the pain takes over

I can’t tear myself away from the internet!

GO MAD!

Running through my body is ecstasy, melting down my throat is Myslee

My screen illuminates the dark, bathing me in anxiety

Can someone come and kill me please… Wait, no, I still don’t wanna die

Can the sun just never rise again?

I’m dying! Kill! Me! My head is gonna f*ckin explode!!!!!1

Despite everything, I’ll wade through the chaos with all my nerds

We’ll bear witness to something that can only be found there

From that terrifying, disturbed internet

These poison radio waves fall like beautiful snow

I went and got a therapist

When I went to see them, they told me to “get off the internet”

But when I imagined never seeing any of you guys again, I felt so hurt

I don’t care what happens in the real world; I like it here.

I still remember the first day I started to gain followers

Knowing people saw me and cared about me felt so comfy

Oh, who cares about anything anymore. One, two!

The internet’s the f*ckin best!

I can feel the swell of ecstasy. Deliver me to sweet dreams, dear Myslee

I feel you at my fingertips; swimming through the cyberspace, my internet boy

The sorrow twirls and descends as the internet game plays in the dark

I smile as I rest my head on you… Don’t ever forget your internet girl. Promise?

(OMG plz! fckn ded! bump thread! sure is summer here! kita━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━!

anon! kys! nonnie! megalul!

newfriend! go lurk more! hey anon can we kiss!

nice digits! topkek! THIS SO MUCH!)

(kms! ITT! pic unrelated! dropped pic!

i don’t speak moonrunes! get back in the basement!

OMG plz! fckn ded! bump thread! sure is summer here! kita━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━!

nice digits! topkek! THIS SO MUCH!)

Through the blue light of the world’s monitors

It is my mission to heal the loneliness of all nerds

For I am the internet angel

3 notes · View notes

yumeyleo · 1 year

Text

The phenomenon called internet angel

Is one postulated, organic alternating-current-lamp

Adorable rainbow illumination (Peace!)

(A complex of all transparent accounts)

This disgusting, icky-yucky shithole of a reality

Will all be wiped from your minds by the angel of charity, me!

Oh, but don’t tell any of the adults, okay?

Everything’s going to be all right, don’t be afraid now

Now log off all your social media and we’ll go see the ocean together

LET’S ALL QUIT THE INTERNET!

You pretend to understand, but you know nothing, do you?

Oh, what is sadness, really, now? What do you think loneliness is? Are you listening?

Can you all interact with me, but also get away from me? On it loops…

My favorite time of day is night, but it gets so cold by myself… Someone hold me please.

TBH I know I can be happy,

but I can’t stop pretending I’m not

I won’t let the haters get to me! I won’t suck up to my fanatics!

No matter how much work I put in,

I know I’m going straight to hell

Nah, I’m probably in one of the circles already

Likes are the best lawyer in hell

The hypocrite’s trap of the spider’s thread

But even as the pain takes over

I can’t tear myself away from the internet!

GO MAD!

Running through my body is ecstasy, melting down my throat is Myslee

My screen illuminates the dark, bathing me in anxiety

Can someone come and kill me please… Wait, no, I still don’t wanna die

Can the sun just never rise again?

I’m dying! Kill! Me! My head is gonna f*ckin explode!!!!!1

Despite everything, I’ll wade through the chaos with all my nerds

We’ll bear witness to something that can only be found there

From that terrifying, disturbed internet

These poison radio waves fall like beautiful snow

I went and got a therapist

When I went to see them, they told me to “get off the internet”

But when I imagined never seeing any of you guys again, I felt so hurt

I don’t care what happens in the real world; I like it here.

I still remember the first day I started to gain followers

Knowing people saw me and cared about me felt so comfy

Oh, who cares about anything anymore. One, two!

The internet’s the f*ckin best!

I can feel the swell of ecstasy. Deliver me to sweet dreams, dear Myslee

I feel you at my fingertips; swimming through the cyberspace, my internet boy

The sorrow twirls and descends as the internet game plays in the dark

I smile as I rest my head on you… Don’t ever forget your internet girl. Promise?

(OMG plz! fckn ded! bump thread! sure is summer here! kita━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━!

anon! kys! nonnie! megalul!

newfriend! go lurk more! hey anon can we kiss!

nice digits! topkek! THIS SO MUCH!)

(kms! ITT! pic unrelated! dropped pic!

i don’t speak moonrunes! get back in the basement!

OMG plz! fckn ded! bump thread! sure is summer here! kita━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━!

nice digits! topkek! THIS SO MUCH!)

Through the blue light of the world’s monitors

It is my mission to heal the loneliness of all nerds

For I am the internet angel

#INTERNET YA ME RO #DODOODODOOOO DOOOOOO #tw kys mention #tw kms mention

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saintobio · 3 years

Note

I’m already sad from chapter 7 so here are some ideas that’ll cheer me up since I can’t even imagine how sad I’ll be after chapter 8

- canon gojo does some jujutsu work and comes to beat the shit out of sn! gojo and just sweeps y/n off her feet and treat her with love because she deserves someone who will always treat her like the princess she is. canon gojo would treat her with so much love, be affectionate with her unabashedly, show her off and just be so proud of who she is and everything she has accomplished

- y/n just needed time to herself. she tired of not being appreciated and constantly being at home alone wondering if she wasn’t good enough because she is perfect. so she goes to a different country. she starts with a blank slate. there’s no way to contact her and gojo doesn’t hear from her until she’s famous for her work

- idk why but I can TOTALLY see y/n as an ambassador for UNICEF. she’s so caring and I just know she would donate half of her profits from her future fashion brand to charities and organizations

- omg to make gojo really suffer y/n has actually been keeping a journal. it’s just basically her inner thoughts and she’s been doing it since she was a child. and one day she just has enough and throws away the journal before just completely leaving to a different country. and gojo finds it and he just reads how sad y/n was the entire time and how her thoughts of him when they were younger were so precious, with how he promised they would get married to reading about how Iceland has damaged her in more ways than one and how she saw herself as a curse and a burden and you can just see how much more she writes in the journal and how every single one of them are her spilling her feelings because she didn’t have anyone who she could talk to about her side of the marriage. And gojo feels like a piece of shit; rightfully so.

- y/n has an illness and is in the hospital. she refuses to let gojo into the room and he doesn’t he even know she’s hospitalized until hours later because he’s not her emergency contact

- y/n and gojo get divorced and a few years later gojo sees a headline that y/n got married to someone else and she genuinely looks happy and just blissful in the wedding photos, a million times happier than when she was at their wedding

- y/n and gojo have sachiro and co-parent and when he starts pre-school he always makes things for mommy, only mommy. he literally never talks about gojo at school so the school literally thinks that y/n is a single mother, especially when sachiro drew a picture of you and him and wrote “my family: me and mommy”

- gojo is always too busy to pick up sachiro from school so he literally had to go through a whole security check when he finally went for the first time. sachiro is pouty the entire time and gojo tries to cheer him up like “daddy has ice cream at home, your favorite flavor-“ but then sachiro is like “why didn’t you turn there?” “what?” “you’re going the wrong way. mommy’s house is that way.”

- when it’s take your child to work day gojo tries to convince sachiro to come to his company but sachiro refuses and gojo is like but everyone at the office would want to see how cute and precious my son is

- and y/n would tell gojo to drop it. “just because you could bring me there for show doesn’t mean you can use sachiro for your selfish purposes.”

- sachiro loves mommy more than ANYONE in the world and is always trying to protect her

- sachiro would give y/n the sweetest little kisses even putting his small hands on her face before giving her a little baby kiss on the nose

- canon gojo and y/n❤️

- cuddles and kisses and just the cutest couple in the world

- a power couple

- I don’t think y/n or gojo have told each other I love you and one day gojo dreams that they’re in a perfect beautiful relationship with a son and in his dream he tells y/n “I love you, baby.” And he sees y/n open her mouth to say something but he wakes up and finds y/n gone because she’s had enough

- canon gojo always telling y/n how much he loves her, doing a million things to show how much he loved her and doing the grandest gestures that movies wouldn’t even think of

- gojo and y/n being soulmates, making promises and declarations of love

—🌸anon

I’m literally giving away my anon with these pictures but this is just the cute lovely things I imagine and hope for y/n😭

OH MY ALL THE SACHIRO CRUMBS !!! i am living for the domestic co-parent aus i might end up writing a drabble series out of it thanks to you :’) and all the other scenarios u wrote are angsty btw jsnsj <//3 but i love it !!

#saintobio.asks #series: sincerely not

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Text

When Passion Rules the Game | Part Four

CW: NSFW, language

Part Three//Part Five//Masterlist//2976 words

“Shut up,” Aelin hissed, elbowing Elide. “Aedion can’t know about this.”

She had told Elide and Dorian everything about her last encounter with Rowan (save for what had happened after), and they both refused to stop bringing it up. Aelin swore to herself that she would never gossip with them again, but she knew she would cave eventually.

Elide was currently standing next to Aelin at the work party they were attending, pointing out Rowan and telling her how hot he looked, just to rile her up. As if Aelin didn’t already know.

And Aedion, her cousin, was making his way over to the pair of them. Unaware of Aelin’s inner turmoil, he marched up to them and said, “How’s everything coming along?”

“Great,” Aelin said with a smile. “I already got Chaol Westfall to donate to the organization.” They were hosting a fundraising event for their newest branch, a charity revolving around children with limited education opportunities. They had only been here for fifteen minutes, and Chaol, who Aelin suspected only agreed because he had a crush on her, had donated quite a sum after she sweet-talked him into it.

Aedion grinned. “I knew every time you convinced Dad to get you another ice cream or a new pair of shoes, you were made for bigger things.”

Aelin laughed. “You’re horrible.”

He grinned. “What about you, Elide? Good day?”

Elide rasied an eyebrow. “If successfully corralling Aelin around the room counts as a good day, then I’d say so.”

“I’m not that hard to manage,” Aelin protested with a scoff.

Elide snorted. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

Before she could respond, someone cleared their throat in a microphone, tapping it experimentally. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention.”

It was Lysandra Ennar, another friend of Aelin’s who often worked publicity events such as these. While everyone else turned and focused on the speaker, Aelin started making her way across the room.

“Thank you all for attending tonight. May I welcome your main speaker tonight, the CEO of Terrasen Corp., Miss Aelin Galathynius!”

Aelin reached the podium with perfect timing, stepping up and taking the mic from Lys with a smile. Then she turned to her audience.

The speech went well. Very well, in fact. Aelin loved many parts of her job, but this was her favorite. Making a difference.

And Aelin excelled at talking to crowds. She made eye contact with different people in the audience, kept her features light and apt, but solemn at the right times, and most importantly, she spoke from her heart. Every rich donor in the room had teared up by the time she was through with them, Aelin noticed proudly.

Upon the completion of her speech, she wandered the room and spoke further to individual people. With Rowan.

That was the other thing. Rowan’s job here was the coordinations director of this new project. Which meant not only was he required to be with her tonight, but they had been working together closely all week.

It had been one week and one day since the incident, as Aelin was starting to call it. Things had been tense, but each had done a good job of sticking to their work and getting things done. Now, on a Saturday, they were launching this new project to the public. Aelin was excited, and no amount of interaction with Rowan could diminish that.

Once Aelin finished up wrangling a healthy sum out of Meave Cadreson, much to everyone’s shock and Aelin’s eternal joy, she stepped out covertly, heading away from the main room and down the hall. Standing so close to Rowan and watching him walk around in a fucking tuxedo was getting to be too much for her. Aelin had done plenty tonight, and no one would notice if she slipped away for a few minutes. She walked toward the elevator, deciding that she could straighten up a few things in her office just to take her mind off him.

Just before the doors could shut, a hand appeared between them and pulled enough to have them automatically opening again. Rowan.

He stepped in the elevator, and Aelin watched in silence as the doors slid shut behind him. Glancing over to the control panel, Aelin realized it was a long way up.

“You left your own event.”

Aelin smiled, pretending the way he crossed his arms and the elevator started ascending didn’t turn her on. “I’ve done enough. I just thought I should catch up on some work.”

Rowan nodded. He didn’t explain why he’d caught up with her. And that was the end of the conversation.

Aelin’s office was on the sixtieth floor. It was a long and arduous journey (read: Aelin is impatient), and she even brought paperwork to sit on the elevator’s floor and do some days. Her employees found it amusing.

But today, there was no paperwork. There was just Aelin and Rowan.

They were staring at each other, staring becasue there was no where else to look. And an indecipherable expression began to cross Rowan’s face.

“You look stunning tonight, Miss Galathynius.”

He was right, in fact. In the long red dress she had on, she knew how she looked, especially to the male prospective donors. Aelin smiled a bit tightly, trying not to be as excited by this comment as she was inclined to be. “You look quite handsome yourself, Mr. Whitethorn.”

Oh, how Dorian would laugh if he could see them now. He didn’t work in the office building, so Elide had discreetly snapped a photo on her phone to show him. Dorian had laughed endlessly, claiming that even though he was straight, he would do anything “that beauty” asked of him. In other words, they both sucked.

Floor eleven arrived. The silence lengthened. Aelin felt the need to say something. “You did well tonight with the people. We made the right decision in hiring you.”

Rowan smiled. “Thank you.”

Floor twenty-four.

Aelin averted her eyes, feeling awkward as fuck. In the faint reflection of the metal walls, she could make out him still watching her. His gaze dipped lower and Aelin cleared her throat, turning back to him. His eyes immediately snapped back to her own.

“Why are here, if you don’t mind me asking? More work to catch up on?” Aelin kept her tone even, but her hands were shaking with anticipation. She clenched them into fists and hid them in the skirt of her dress.

Rowan smirked. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this man was not allowed to smirk at her. It did unspeakable things to Aelin.

“I just thought I would accompany you. This is your big day, after all. I didn’t think you should be alone.”

Aelin nodded faintly. “I see.” Her voice was slightly out-of-breath.

They reached floor thirty. Halfway there.

“Do you ever think about it?” Aelin asked, not letting herself review that question in her head before it popped out.

Rowan knew exactly what she was talking about. “Of course I think about it. Every fucking day. You have no idea how much torture it is to see you in those gods-damn pantsuits. Or now.” His gaze shamelessly dropped to the dip in her dress. While this dress wasn’t nearly as revealing as what Aelin had been wearing when she met Rowan, it still didn’t leave too much to the imagination.

Maybe they had both had too much champagne.

“I think I have some idea,” Aelin replied.

Rowan looked back at her. And took a step forward. Aelin licked her lips.

The elevator dinged. How had the last half of the ride passed that quickly? Shaking herself out of her reverie, Aelin stepped out, grateful. There was a camera in the elevator.

“Come with me,” she said, but it was more of a request than an order. Allowing Rowan to decide if he wanted to go through with this.

He nodded, and Aelin nonchalantly walked down the hall a short ways, heading for the door to her office on the right. As soon as they were both inside and the door was locked, Rowan was upon her.

Aelin gasped against his lips as he pushed her against the door, pinning her wrists. She kissed him back passionately. Only two weeks of denying herself since their initial meeting, and Aelin was pent-up, desperate to feel him again.

Rowan broke the kiss, pressing his body even harder against hers. “You look so fucking perfect in that dress.” His voice was a gravelly heaven, a sound that Aelin had been dreaming of.

She moaned quietly. “Rowan,” she gasped.

Rowan started kissing her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin.

“Oh, gods, Rowan you can’t…” Her voice was barely audible, a pleasured whisper.

“What is it, baby?” he mumbled.

Aelin almost forgot what her protest had been, then remembered and said, “You’ll leave marks. There’s no fucking way I’m walking out of here in a dress and a scarf.”

Rowan hummed, debating this, then stepped back. “Get on your knees.”

It was all Aelin could do to hold back a groan at the words. She knelt, as instructed.

“Good girl,” Rowan murmured.

Aelin pressed her thighs together in a pathetic attempt at quenching her desire, and reached for his pants. She had been wondering what it was like to taste this man for far too long. Her sanity probably wouldn’t have survived if Aelin never got to.

She pulled out his cock, giving it an experimental pump. Rowan groaned, the sound like a drug. Spurred on, Aelin twisted her wrist, delighting in the sensation of having Rowan’s cock harden in her hand.

She leaned forward and placed her lips on him. Small kisses to his cock had Rowan growling ferally. “Aelin.”

His tone was not one to ignore. Knowing there would be consequences if Aelin didn’t do as was expected of her, she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.

The groan that tore from Rowan’s mouth as she bobbed her head forward had her heart speeding up. Or stopping altogether; she couldn’t say. Aelin made an O with her lips and took him deeper, relaxing her mouth around him.

Rowan reached down and grabbed several strands of Aelin’s hair, tugging them lightly as he got a hold on her. She groaned softly, both from the sensation and from the knowledge that she was entirely at his mercy.

Rowan praised her as she moved, not yet controlling her completely. Aelin took him deeper and deeper with each bob, sucking the delicate appendage a bit too much, secretly pleased with the hiss the movement drew from his throat.

“You want me to fuck your throat, sweetheart? I will if you don’t behave.”

Both of them knew that Aelin was not opposed to that idea.

In response, she sucked harder, flattening her tongue and letting her teeth scrape against his cock.

Rowan tightened his grip on her hair and thrust into her mouth. Aelin moaned around his cock, and the vibrations had him cursing. He started moving harder, setting a brutal, punishing pace.

Aelin felt his tip hit the back of her throat, and she slid a hand down to the hem of her dress. Before she could get her hand where she needed it, Rowan said, “Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?”

The only light came from the cracks in the window shades, pulled closed, and she didn’t realize he would be able to see her. Aelin could only whine in reply. He didn’t stop fucking her mouth.

“Maybe I’ll let you come tonight if you’re good. But you have to listen to me.” Rowan’s voice held amusement, clearly taking pleasure in her struggle. Aelin reluctanly pulled her hand out of her dress.

He whispered some more dirty praises to her, as well as a few threats, and Aelin couldn’t help but feel relieved the only other people in the building were sixty floors below them.

Rowan thrust into her mouth with one last groan, then paused. He pulled her off his cock, ignoring Aelin’s pleas to keep going, and yanked her to her feet.

“I’m going to come inside of you, you little slut. Do you understand me?”

Aelin nodded desperately. “Please.”

“Bend over.” Rowan nodded to the desk.

Aelin pushed some papers aside, then bent over, gripping the edge of the desk in anticipation.

Rowan pulled her dress up, then slid her panties down. Aelin lifted each ankle in turn after he dropped them, leaving her sex bare and exposed to the chilly air. They always ran the air conditioning too much in this building.

Rowan, apparently done toying with her, gripped her hips. He lined himself up with her entrance, and Aelin gasped as she felt his cock part her folds. “Please,” she whispered, for extra measure.

Rowan chuckled, then slid in. All the way.

Aelin buried her head in the desk, gripping the end tighter. He buried himself inside of Aelin with one thrust, groaning breathlessly. She didn’t make a sound, just held on for dear life.

Way too soon, Rowan started moving. He leisurely slid into Aelin, then back out. The pause between thrusts started lessening as he picked up speed.

“Look at you,” Rowan muttered. “You and your tight little pussy.”

Aelin’s toes curled painfully in the high heels that she was having trouble standing in. Rowan’s fingers started to dig into her hips tighter, and Aelin felt exhilarated by the knowledge that he was marking her, that there would be evidence of this the next day and she couldn’t just dismiss it as a dream.

Rowan slammed into Aelin, his balls slapping her clit, and she cried out. He didn’t let up, moving harder and deeper with every thrust. The sweet pain of his fingers digging into her hips was enough to have Aelin groaning as she came.

Rowan cursed as she tightened around his cock. He moved impossibly harder, using Aelin to chase the same pleasure.

Aelin thought she heard some sort of ding, but quickly dismissed the thought as Rowan came inside of her, filling her so delightfully. She sighed, intoxicated from the feel of him.

Rowan muttered a few more praises as he pulled out of her. Aelin shakily stood, still using the desk for support. Before she could say anything, a knock sounded on the door and they both froze.

“Aelin? You okay? I just wanted to check on you since you’ve been gone for so long.” It was Elide’s voice.

The handle started to turn and Aelin yelled. “Wait!” The handle stopped moving. “Um, I’m just…”

“Just what?” Elide asked, suspicious of her tone.

Aelin thought for a moment. “Doing some paperwork.”

“And I’m not allowed in to see you committing the scandalous act of paperwork? What are you actually doing?”

“I… spilled something on my dress so I’m changing into my spare work clothes.”

“Liar,” Elide called. “You’re probably mooning over Rowan again, aren’t you? Maybe you’re even—”

“Elide!” Aelin squeaked. She didn’t dare face Rowan.

“Oh, gods, is he in there?” Elide started laughing. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Aelin hissed. “Go away.”

Elide’s laughter got louder. “Just letting you know, people are going to start wondering where you are. You might want to finish that up pretty quickly.” Elide was still laughing to herself as Aelin her heels clicking down the hallway.

Finally, absolutely petrified, Aelin turned back to Rowan. In the semidarkness, she could make out a smirk, but that was about it.

“You told your assistant about us.”

Aelin tried not to shiver at the word “us.” She crossed her arms. “She’s one of my best friends, okay. She won’t tell anyone.”

Rowan hummed amusedly, then—thank the gods—seemed to drop it for now. “So, Aelin. Miss Galathynius.” She barely stopped herself from frowning at that. “Will this be… happening again?”

Aelin knew better than to ask if he wanted it to. He clearly did. “It can. But just to be clear, it won’t earn you any special treatment. And if you chose to end this at any time, there will be no repercussions for you. No matter how this ends, your job will not be affected in any way.”

Rowan nodded. “I’m glad.”

“And we won’t be doing this again,” Aelin continued, waving a hand around her office. “I am a professional, and there will be no more office hookups. This stays out of our careers. And,” she added, “when we are here, I am your boss, and you will treat me with the respect I deserve. There will be no talk of this while we’re here, no glances or innuendos. And this is just sex. Nothing more.”

Aelin was a CEO, and she had to be good with words and contracts to make it to where she was now. This was a mixture of both. It was easy for her to decide how to arrange this, and Aelin wouldn’t have this backfiring on her.

Rowan nodded again, agreeing. “I understand, Miss Galathynius.”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Perhaps now that the awkwardness has abated, you can refer to me as Aelin? Most of my employees do.”

“Only if you call me Rowan.”

Aelin smiled. Then she said, “And, I know I’ve already said this, but I would like to make this clear—you are allowed to stop this at any time, no questions asked.”

An expression Aelin didn’t recognize in the darkness came over Rowan’s face. “I appreciate it a lot. Thank you.”

“We should go. We’ve been missing for too long. I should head over to the bathroom and fix my hair.”

“Of course,” Rowan agreed. “Aelin.”

She tried to pretend hearing her name on his lips didn’t melt her heart completely, but it was a losing battle. If only Aelin understood what feeling like that meant.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #when passion rules the game #my writing

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

You Belong with Me

Azriel and his brothers are high-power executives, and while the Valkyrie ladies always attend the fancy dinners and events, Gwyn is NOT wealthy and is the only one who isn't attached to someone who is. When Gwyn volunteers to take Azriel to the cabin early to prep for their big family/friends vacation, they have a conversation about how she might have to cut back. Add in banter and hours of Gwyn unabashedly belting Taylor Swift, and Az realizes that not having her around is just not an option.

Guys... I've never cared for AU, never been big into song lyrics. But my soul just needed this to be a thing. So here it is.

Read on AO3

“You sure this thing is gonna get us there?” Azriel’s smug grin only earned an eyeroll from the redhead on the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side door.

“Just put your shit in the trunk and get in the car,” she huffed across the weathered blue of the roof. He chuckled, slinging his suitcase into the trunk as the door slammed – maybe with a little extra force. He loved poking at her, and he knew she would dish it right back. After closing the trunk he returned to the open door on the passenger’s side and lowered himself into the well-worn leather seat. “You know not all of us are fortunate enough to be high-level executives at multi-million dollar companies. But rest assured that this historical document restoration expert and her 16-year-old Toyota with 154000 miles are going to get you to the cabin safe and sound. Because you insisted on getting there a day early to make sure everything is secure.” Gwyn deepened her voice, giving him her best Azriel impersonation. And maybe he was being a bit… overzealous. But he had always been the most keenly aware, the most protective. He may have been CFO, but he was also deeply involved in security – both from the standpoint of the organization and of it’s employees. And his family.

He simply smirked, “If you say so.”

“You’re insufferable,” she groaned, turning the key. The car rumbled to life, and Azriel had to admit that he was impressed with how quiet it still seemed to run. He was sure Gwyn was a stickler about maintenance. “Just for that, you are sentenced to three hours of me serenading you with the best songs Taylor Swift has to offer.”

“Oh, Gods, anything but Taylor Swift.” Azriel grimaced, hiding the secret joy he rarely let her see. He loved it when she sang. Her voice was lovely, of course, but what hit him harder was how she seemed to radiate joy when she did it.

Gwyneth Berdara wasn’t quiet and shy like he tended to be – not by a long shot. She was irreverent and blunt and bold. But he could see the shadows that hid just behind the shimmer in her eyes – he could tell there were demons there. Her sister had been murdered four years before, in the apartment they both had shared, and it had wounded her deeply. Nesta had mentioned that there was more to the story, but that it was only Gwyn’s to tell. So, yes, she definitely had darkness that followed her, but she kept it well hidden. He’d learned, as they had become friends, that she often grew anxious in large crowds or chaotic environments. She didn’t feel safe, and that had always bothered him. Regardless of how many people were around or how crazy it was, her friends were there with her. He was there. Whatever it was that kept her so on edge, he imagined that the lingering sadness in that deep ocean gaze and the faraway wistful look that sometimes passed over her features were a part of it.

But when she sang she was a beacon of light, with the brightest smile and rosy, freckle-flecked cheeks.

“Don’t you dare disrespect the goddess T. Swift,” she glowered, and as they pulled onto the highway he lost himself in the lilting notes of her car concert.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving – at least seven works of the goddess T. Swift – when he reached for the volume knob on the console and turned it down.

“Are you coming to the charity gala in a couple weeks?” Azriel looked over at her, noting the light stain of pink gracing her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh… No.” Gwyn glanced over at him and gave a tight smile, causing him to purse his lips.

“Why not?”

“Az,” she chided, throwing him a stern look. “It’s too expensive. I can’t afford a seat and a dress. Hell, I probably can’t even afford one or the other.” He stayed silent, mulling over the understanding that money wasn’t something he ever had to worry about, and how he could make that not a problem for her. “Besides, you know how I am with crowds like that. I’d probably just have an attack and ruin everyone’s night.” She tried to laugh it off, and that troubled Azriel even more. Because she had seemed disappointed just then when she said she wasn’t going.

“Do you want to go, Gwyn?” He prodded. I want you to go. She sighed, adjusting herself in her seat to straighten her back.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s really not possible for me.” She shrugged, as if that was it.

But that wasn’t it. Everyone was going to be there. She should be there, too. She should be there, with him.

“You know we would help –“

“I know, Az. But I’m not asking you, or Rhys. I’m not asking anyone. I can’t keep depending on everyone else just to go to events and dinners and whatever else.” She sucked in a breath. “I just… I don’t live the same life that the rest of you do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just how it is.”

“Gwyn, you know nobody cares about that.” Azriel frowned. “I understand that my family is… fortunate. Privileged. But you and Nesta and Emerie are a part of us.”

“It’s not the same, Azriel.” Azriel. The full name. This was more serious than he realized. “Nesta is with Cassian and Emerie is with Mor. It makes sense that maybe they’re taken care of. I’m just… a friend. A friend who is poor.” He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it. “And it’s not just about covering food… you go to places with dress codes and too many forks for dinner, and with the company’s increasing success the three of you are only growing more popular and more press-worthy. Especially you.”

“Me?” Azriel swallowed, brows furrowed. “Why especially me?”

Gwyn cast him a pointed look, eyes dark and serious. “You’re the last single brother, Az. You are eligible bachelor number one. All the single ladies in the metropolitan area, if not further out, will be pining for you. If they’re not already.”

Eligible bachelor number one. He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh Az. Sweet, precious, innocent Az. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. You’re wealthy, successful, and absolutely beautiful.” Azriel raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance, but she was so stubbornly keeping her eyes trained ahead. It was responsible, of course. She was driving. But not even a peek meant that she was intentionally avoiding looking over at him. The corners of his mouth turned downward, not quite understanding how this conversation had gone the way it had.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more,” he snickered. If there was anything that he knew, it was how to draw her back with teasing. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and Gwyneth Berdara was ruthless when it came to having the last word. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he knew she was doing her best not to smile.

“I hate you so much,” she huffed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s even remotely true.” He reached out to pinch the apple of her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, sending a glower that only made him laugh.

“The single ladies can have you. Maybe you’ll find someone else to annoy.”

“Aw, Gwynnie. You know nobody could ever replace you.” And even though it was in jest, it was also… true. “And what would you do without me?”

“Get some peace and quiet for once?” And when the redhead turned with that scrunched freckled nose and her tongue stuck out at him Azriel was relieved to have the playful girl – his best friend – wearing a smile again. “Now shut it or sing along, you have not been punished with nearly enough of our lady Taylor Swift.”

And so the ride continued, but Azriel chewed on his lower lip, contemplating everything Gwyn had said. She was fiercely independent, so he could understand how she might not want to accept what she might perceive as charity, or worse, pity. But the idea of her just not being there… it made something inside of him feel hollow. He reached out and turned down the volume again.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? About where we’re going to dinner? Or about not being comfortable at big events?” He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her, trying to pinpoint any reaction she may have. Once again pink stained her cheeks.

“Az, it’s not like you guys are going to stop going to fancy restaurants so you can come to Wendy’s with me. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.” Fucking ridiculous.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we would have less fun without you there?” Azriel tried to keep his tone light, but his temper was flaring. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him that she would think she could just… not be there and they would all just go on like it didn’t matter.

“Of course I did,” Gwyn shrugged nonchalantly and threw him a wink. “I know it will be hard but I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Besides, I don’t plan on just disappearing. I just… need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing. I’ll just be around… less.” She turned the volume back up and jumped straight into the lyrics, not giving him the opportunity to tell her how preposterous she sounded.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, losing himself in thought with Gwyn’s lovely voice still soothing him in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding when the volume increased dramatically, blaring through the interior. Looking over he found her tapping on the steering wheel and swaying to the beat of her majesty Taylor Swift. Her eyes were shining, her smile was brilliant, and she sang like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

She’s going off about something that you said

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like

And she’ll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself

Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town

I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down

You say you’re fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

Azriel felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was seeing Gwyn for the first time. Unbridled joy, laughter when she turned to him when she was singing, dancing in the driver’s seat like a passenger’s worst nightmare.

And he couldn’t help but listen to the words, too. Surely that part was coincidence, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to him… something was speaking to him.

He grinned as she shimmied her shoulders and rocked her head from side to side, wisps of copper flying away from her ponytail.

Oh, I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh even though you’re ‘bout to cry

I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me

Can’t you see that I’m the one that understands you

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know baby?

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

“Gosh I think I went too hard on that one. I’m out of breath!” she laughed, and she glanced toward Azriel in the passenger seat. “Have you had enough yet, Az?”

“Never,” he murmured, and her breath caught. She turned her focus back to the road, but kept stealing looks back at him. She seemed unsure of how to respond, but he was also lost in his own head.

He didn’t want to be the eligible bachelor. He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. He knew that he had cared for Gwyn as more than a friend for a long time – Nesta and Cassian had always encouraged him to do something about it. Nesta in particular had assured him that Gwyn felt the same way. But no matter how much Azriel had flirted she never seemed to acknowledge it, never seemed inclined to do something about it. They bantered and challenged and laughed, but never more.

But Nesta continued to be insistent. She told Azriel that there were some things about Gwyn that might keep her from acting upon her affection for him, and maybe he should make the first move. He never had, of course, for fear of rejection and fear of ruining the relationship that they had.

But now suddenly he was looking at a future where she wasn’t always there. He didn’t like the thought of that. He would go to Wendy’s for dinner instead of whatever black-tie restaurant had their reservation. But, furthermore, he would take care of her, like Cassian took care of Nesta. He wouldn’t go to events without her, and he would make sure that she was comfortable and safe while she was there. Because he would keep her close. He would always keep her close.

By the time Gwyn was pulling the car onto the driveway leading to the cabin she was only singing quietly to herself and letting him sit in his own silent thought. And as soon as she parked and turned off the car he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Without a word he ripped off the seatbelt and burst out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He was already crossing across the front when Gwyn popped out.

“What the hell, Az? The car is 16 years old you can’t just slam doors like that –“

Azriel grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. Gods, they were perfect – warm and lush. She inhaled shakily against his mouth and he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He swept his lips across hers once again before pulling away only slightly, resting his forehead against her own. They were both breathing hard, and her expression nearly sent him to his knees. Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide, shining with surprise and confusion. Her lips were swollen and her freckled cheeks stained crimson. Azriel wasn’t going to give himself enough time to question this, though.

“You’re coming to the gala,” he insisted, gaze flitting wildly between her lips and her eyes before drowning in the ocean pools. “I’m buying your ticket. On our way home after this weekend we’ll go shopping for a dress. And no matter what you wear you will be the most exquisite thing there.”

Gwyn looked up at him, chest still heaving and eyes still wide, and nodded.

“And you’re coming to every dinner and event and anything else after that. Because, no matter what you might think, I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”

“Az –“

“And when you’re there, you won’t think about money or crowds. Because I’ll be there. I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. Because I don’t just want you to be there with all of us. I want you to be there with me. Okay, Gwyn?” His eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, to see what was in his heart.

“Okay,” she nodded. Her breaths had quieted, her eyes were warm, and there was a ghost of a smile there. And Azriel dared to hope that Nesta had been right, and all he’d needed was to take the leap.

“Can I kiss you again, Gwyn?” he asked.

“Please,” she giggled at him, smile widening. He leaned in, this time with much more restraint and care, slanting his lips over her soft ones and gently moving against them. When he pulled away his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin, which grew impossibly bigger when he saw her blushing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he laughed, still not believing that he had done all that, and that it had… worked?

“I… I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” Gwyn sighed and then dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “So… so just to be clear. You want me… to be…?” Azriel chuckled and ran his hands down her arms and then tangling their fingers together.

“I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to aggravate any other single ladies. I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor. I just want you. We can go to fancy dinners or charity events or the finest fast food restaurants in the metropolitan area.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then kissed her cheek. “Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course, Az.” He bent his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he was making up for lost time.

“As her holy highness Taylor Swift said, you belong with me,” Azriel grinned devilishly. “I can’t help but be suspicious that you planned that… planned to make me fall for your beautiful voice and how adorable you are.” Gwyn tilted her head back and laughed, nearly a cackle full of amusement and contentment.

“I did not plan it, but I’m not going to complain about how it turned out.”

#gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel #gwyn singing taylor swift is a mood #and she totally would #not my usual style

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artzychic27 · 3 years

Note

Artist Family 1991 movie?

All is more sullen than usual for the Artists. It’s the third anniversary of Rose’s disappearance

Juleka: *Solemnly staring at Rose’s empty room* Think of it That. For years we’ve attempted to contact Rose in the Great Beyond. And for years… Nothing.

Ever since Rose’s disappearance, Juleka has been looking through her spell books for other ways to contact her, but just can seem to find anything

For Marinette, she tries to cope the only way she knows how… Through torture.

Alix: *Tied up: Screaming through her binds*

Marinette: *Aiming an arrow at Alix* Don’t be a baby. I know what I’m doing.

Marc is more unhappy than usual… And it gets Nathaniel in the mood.

Nathaniel: *Watching Marc sleep* Look at him. I would die for him. I would kill for him… Either way, what bliss. *Marc wakes up* Unhappy, darling?

Marc: Oh, yes. Yes, completely. Nathan... The sun. Me atraviesa como un puñal.

Nathaniel: Oh, monochrome. That's Spanish.

Marc: Si.

Nathaniel: *Grabs a bucket of black paint and splatters it all over the window*

Marc: Mi amor... Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me… Do it again.

Also, their neighbor, a well-respected judge, hates them because Marinette can’t keep her flaming arrows on the Artists’ property. Why does this matter? You’ll soon see.

Nathaniel: *Playing chess with Juleka while Marc snips the buds off of roses* It’s a milestone, Marc. It’ll be our third s��ance. All those years, gnawed by guilt, undone by woe, burning with uncertainty.

Marc: Nathaniel, don’t torture yourself… That’s my job around here. But, imagine if Rose did return. Half alive, barley human, a rotting shell.

Juleka: *Sighs* That’d be a sight.

Unbeknownst to everyone (Except Félix), Juleka has a crush on Rose.

Later, the Artists’ lawyer, Cecil and his wife Bridgette arrive to ask for a loan. (Wow. Asking for a loan from teenagers? Yeesh.) Why? Because they owe a loan shark.

Bridgette: Why did I marry you?

Cecil: Because I said yes!

While Cecil tries to work out a deal with Nathaniel, Bridgette collects expensive looking items for a charity auction from Juleka, Marc, and Félix

Marc: *As Félix pulls body bags out of a closet* Uncle Niknak's winter wardrobe. Uncle Niknak's summer wardrobe… Uncle Niknak.

Nathaniel: ‘The Rose Artist Off-Shore Retirement Fund’?… A tribute to thee. Some called her inhumanly evil.

Cecil: No!

Nathaniel: Only her parents before she fled her home.

And they make a deal… But…

Nathaniel: It’s going to have to wait, you know the rules better than that. Old business is old business and new business is new business. And this is new business and we do not discuss new business until… The next quarter.

After an unsuccessful attempt at stabbing Nathaniel with one of the many swords in the house, Cecil gives up until Nathaniel mentions going to get money for the monthly expenses from the vault

Meanwhile, Marc shows Bridgette a golden finger trap from the court of Emperor Wu

Bridgette: *Trying to not pocket it and run off* Oh, Marc, this is too extravagant, even for the auction.

Juleka: Let’s keep it.

Marc: Juleka, it’s for charity. *Bridgette gets her fingers trapped* Widows and orphans. We need more of them… Bridgette, about the séance tonight, why don’t you come? It's Nathaniel I'm terribly worried about. He won't eat, he can't sleep, he keeps coughing up blood.

Bridgette: He coughs up blood?

Marc: Well, not like he used to...

Cecil returns to his office with a suitcase full of doubloons from the Artists’ account, no knowledge of how to get the vault open, and in his office is Ms. Craven, a loan shark and her familiar-looking daughter, Willow

After some intimidation from Willow, Cecil gets an idea of how to repay Ms. Craven the money he owes her when he sees how similar she looks to Rose

There’s thunder and lightning on the night of the séance. Perfect weather

Marc: Marinette, Alix, put down that antenna, and come inside.

With their plan in place, Cecil and Bridgette arrive

Bridgette: *Shows Marinette the finger trap still on her fingers* Could you help me? *Marinette removes it with ease*

Marinette: Push, do not pull.

Marc: *With everyone seated around the table for the séance* Harken all souls. Every year on this date, we offer a clarion call to Rose Artist… Alix, drop the cleaver.

Marinette: *Sees Alix aiming the cleaver at her* Stop it.

Marc: From generation to generation, our beacon to the beyond. All close eyes and join hands.

After a practical joke on Bridgette involving That, the séance continues.

Marinette: Let us ransom you from the power of the grave. Tonight, oh Death, let us be your plague.

Juleka: Rose Artist, ceoli couris, ferimani bo… She’s near. *Félix plays a dramatic sting on his organ* Rose! Gather your strength! And knock three times! *One knock… Two… Three*

Nathaniel: She’s at the door!

That quickly goes to unlock the front door. And there, much to the Artists’ disbelief and joy is Rose… Or so they think. And there with her is Ms. Craven, posing as a psychiatrist named Dr. Schloss

Ms. Craven makes up some story about how “Rose” was found in Miami, tangled up in a tuna net. There were psychological tests, and a bunch of crap.

Nathaniel: And now she’s back.

Rose: At least for a week. I’ve got things to do back at the Bermuda Triangle.

Marc: *Sighs* Oh, the Bermuda Triangle./ Nathaniel: The Devil’s Island./ Marc: The Black Hole of Calcutta

Nathaniel: Pardon me for a moment. *Kisses up and down Marc’s arm* Our fifth date.

Marinette: No one escapes the Bermuda Triangle. Not even for a vacation. Everyone knows that.

Any attempts Willow tries at getting a good night’s sleep, it doesn’t work because The floors are constantly creaking, Marinette and Alix keep staring at her from down the hall, and That keep sneaking up on her which causes her to scream.

Nathaniel: … My dear friend. I’ve got goosebumps./ Marc: I know./ Nathaniel: Screams in the night. It can only mean one thing./ Marc: She’s home.

The next morning, Marinette and Alix suspect something is up with “Rose”. Meanwhile, Nathaniel takes “Rose” to the vault

Alix: *As Marinette warms up the electric chair* Do you think that’s really Rose?

Marinette: Nathaniel and Juleka seem to think so. But I think Marc isn’t sure. Now let’s a play a game. Sit in the chair.

Alix: What game?

Marinette: ‘Want to meet God?’

And Nathaniel does take Rose down to the vault, via gondola in the catacombs of the Artist home, only this vault leads to a secret room… That also leads to the money vault when a certain vial of poison is lifted

During that time, while they’re down there, Nathaniel reveals to “Rose” that his jealousy over her catching the attention of conjoined twins Ali and Eli drove her off

~Meanwhile~ Alix: So, if that’s not Rose, then who is she?

Marinette: An imposter. Now give the chair a few more seconds to warm up./ Alix: Why?/ Marinette: So it Can kill you./ Alix: I knew that.

~Later at the charity auction ~

Auctioneer: *Presenting the finger trap on Bridgette’s fingers again* This piece is encrusted with rubies and 15 emerald chips. It was donated by Marc and Nathaniel Artist. Remember, over half our proceeds will benefit the elderly and the mentally disabled. The bidding starts at $5000.

Nathaniel: Five, hah! Not good enough. $25,000!

Auctioneer: I have twenty.

Nathaniel: Twenty-five! *To Marc* Meyn Ziskeyt?

Auctioneer: Twenty five.

Marc: Thirty. *To Nathaniel* My howling demon.

Nathaniel: *voice cracks* Thirty-five!

Marc: Fifty!

Auctioneer: I have $50,000.

Marc: Your turn, my ecstasy.

Auctioneer: Fifty thousand going once, fifty thousand going twice. Sold to Marc Artists for fifty thousand dollars. *looks disgusted as Marc and Nathaniel obscenely make out*

They bought it back as a gift for “Rose”, but… She doesn’t know how to take it off! The Artists are now starting believe that she really is an imposter

Marc attempts to break “Rose” and get her to confess by taking her to the Artists’ cemetery where he reminds her of the credo

Marc: "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc." "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us." Not just pretty words… Rose. As an Artist, you understand completely.

“Rose”: … As an Artist, I do.

Seeing that everyone’s onto her, Willow calls Ms. Craven and has her pose as the psychiatrist to try and make the Artists none the wiser

Marc: Nathaniel, Juleka, why don’t you speak to Rose? She’s right outside the door.

Juleka: We would… If that were the real Rose.

Nathaniel: She’s an imposter! A charlatan! A sham! A counterfeit!

While wandering around the home, Rose sees Marinette and Alix sword fighting and practicing lines for something.

Ms. Craven successfully convinces the Artists that their reason for suspecting “Rose” is an imposter is due to displacement, and meanwhile, Rose helps Marinette and Alix out with their sword fighting scene for a play they’re in at school. A play she’s not allowed to attend but goes to anyway

Just a few minutes before the play, Mme. Bustier, asks Marc a question about Marinette.

Mme. Bustier: Now, the students did projects on their heroes. Alya Cesaire chose Lois Lane.

Marc: Have you spoken to her parents?

Mme. Bustier: And Marinette did her project on someone named Calpurnia Dupain.

Marc: Oh, her great aunt on her father’s side. She was burned as a witch in 1706. They say she danced naked in town square and enslaved a minister. *Unaware of Mme. Bustier’s horror.* Don’t worry, we told her university first.

And after so many horrible performances, comes the best one yet… Where Marinette and Alix splatter fake blood all over the audience.

Nino: … I suggested a evening in the park, but no. You wanted to see the performances.

Alya: *Spits out fake blood* Shut up.

Furious that her plans to get into the vault have failed since “Rose” decided to go to the play, Ms. Craven insists that “Rose” must leave again… But not before the Artists mark the occasion with a going away party where the entire Artist clan is invited.

Marc: *To Marinette who is dancing with Luka* Marinette, would you go check on Rose upstairs, please?

Marinette leaves (Not before kissing Luka) and overhears Willow and Ms. Craven going over their plan to break into the vault. She quickly runs to go get help.

Meanwhile, Cecil figures out a way to get rid of the Artists for good. And here’s where the judge comes in- He gets a restraining order agasint them so they can’t set foot on their property

After the party, the Artist family tries to find Marinette when they realize that she’s gone missing. But when they return with her, they find that they can’t get inside their own home. And when they attempt to appeal to the judge, he sends them away out of spite.

The Artists are now living in a motel. Nathaniel is in a state of depression knowing they’ve been betrayed, and Marc is just trying to keep Juleka, Marinette, and Alix from going crazy… Er.

Also, he gets a job as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant. Let’s see how that turns out.

Marc: And so the witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the candy house by promising them more sweets. And she told them to look in the oven. But, before she herself could push the children inside, Hansel pushed her, that poor defenseless elderly witch into the oven instead and burned her to a crisp as she writhed in agony… Now children. How do you think that feels? *The children cry* … Exactly.

That gets a job as a courier, and Marinette, Juleka, and Alix sell poison macarons.

Not able to stand the sight of his family in such a state, Marc returns to the Artists home to confront “Rose” only to be captured by Ms. Craven and Cecil. And unknown to Marc, That followed him.

Craven, Cecil, and Willow torture Marc so he can tell them how to access the vault means of torture, but he’s a total masochist and is loving every second of it

That returns to the motel and- through Morse code- tells the Artists that Marc’s been captured

Nathaniel: Mar... Marc... Marc? Marc is what? Slow down, That! It's terrible when you stutter!

*That starts tapping in Morse Code with a pen*

Nathaniel: Marc... in... danger... stop. Send... help... at once... STOP! *He runs out. That collapses*

Nathaniel arrives just before they can try and kill Marc, and engages in a sword fight with Cecil, which he gains the upper hand on, then loses when Ms. Craven has Marc at gun point. She forces him to show Willow the vault or she shoots Marc if they’re not back in an hour

Before Nathaniel can pull out the book that activates the secret door on the shelf, Willow pulls out a different book- A spellbook that projects It’s contents into reality and creates a storm. A bolt of lightning strikes Willow and launches Cecil and Craven out the window and into graves dug by Marinette, Alix, and Juleka

Alix: Are they dead?

Marinette: Does it matter?

Months later on Halloween, it’s revealed that Willow has been Rose all this time, and the story about the tuna net and the Bermuda Triangle were true. She just suffered from amnesia

Bridgette: *To Marinette* Dear, where’s your costume.

Marinette: This is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac; they look just like everyone else.

While the others play a good game of ‘Wake The Dead’ Marc and Nathaniel stay behind because Marc has something to tell him.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, what is it?

Marc: I finally received a letter from my mothers, and… *Shows him an ultrasound photo* They said if it’s anything like me, they want us to have it.

Sequel

#miraculous ladybug #marc x nathaniel #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #marinette dupain cheng #alix kubdel #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #félix graham de vanily #the addams family #addams family au #the artist family

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x-infernhoes-x · 3 years

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Merry-Go Round of Life- Amie and Hannah x Fem! Reader

Title: Merry- Go Round of Life

Genre: Fluff, Romance, WLW, Happy Ending

Warning(s): Not much

Description: Inspired by my love for ballet since forever and that one time in 2019 where I finally got to see a show with a friend. (Psst, if you’re said friend and are reading this, thank you. I will treasure that moment forever.) Also inspired by @maria-akira’s random hc’s for both Hannah and Amie which you could find here! I also took the liberty to watch a ballet show on Youtube as I was writing this to get into the feeling of it! Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this one!

PS. There’s going to be a reference from my Dominic imagine that shows that Dom and his girl get a happy ending, and a couple few references from maria-akira’s headcanons about them both so keep an eye out! OH and I’d like to give @thera-daydreams a huge shout-out for blessing the fandom with names for Dominic’s bodyguards! Just wanna say I love your work and that I can’t wait for the next update of Inday! Also, this is the first time I will be introducing my Trese OC in the fanfic! Her bio’s going to be up soon while I work on my fics such as the Tapia x Reader fic and Evermore part 2!

7-5-2021 Note: Ngl to you besties but this was the longest fanfic I have ever worked on hdsjhjsgh like I started this on the 29th of June. Like….slow burn much??

7-6-2021 Note: I’ll be honest with you guys, this was my first time writing a poly-fic and one that shows how life is between all of them and sharing the same space. I tried my best on this one since I make sure it sounded relatable for those who are in a polyamorous relationship! Also I wasn’t exactly clear on Amie and Hannah’s relation towards each other like are they related or anything so I went for the two of them being close best friends instead. Also I highly recommend listening to Merry Go Round of Life from Howl’s Moving Castle!

Hannah and Amie may look like Manila’s Resident It Girls, possessing a sort of ethereal beauty who loved to party, attend drag races, and everything in between, you would expect them to be the type of girls who would have a great disregard for the arts and the type of girls who would complain about housework but behind those fair facades and lipstick smiles, they were completely and entirely different from what the world has perceived them as. Behind the scenes, the two of them were more than what the outside thinks them to be.

They were both beauty and brains combined. They were brave, strong, and selfless women who can hold up their fights and would not hesitate to fight for their rights. They were strong advocates of the term ‘girls support girls’ hell, even their friends say that they were the embodiment of the very term itself. Occasionally, the two of them would even go out of their way to help out in charities and various organizations that would benefit either the people in need, nature, animals and the like. Both of them are also good at sports, huge bookworms, and are very talented in music, dance and the arts, hell they were even good at traditional Filipino games such as Piko and Chinese Garter. Between the two of them, Amie was the more active one who would engage in sports such as Volleyball, Soccer, and Boxing while Hannah focused on Badminton, Sepak Takraw, and Arnis.

But out of all of those things, the two of them had a love for Ballet. Tonight was a different night for the both of them where they would take breaks from the Drag Race scene and settle into something they haven’t done in a very long time. The two of them decided to watch CCP’s Ballet Philippines’ show of Swan Lake. Although it wasn’t a last-minute decision, it was more or less a friend of theirs who had accidentally ordered tickets for tonight’s show instead of the afternoon one. Although Amie was more of a Cinderella than Swan Lake, Hannah seemed to be excited about it, eager for the time the two of them would finally get the chance to watch the show. Tonight, they’ve traded their fabulous runaway model looks for something much simpler, casual, laid-back, and fit for a ballet show. Though they did make sure that their outfits for tonight were still fashionable and color-coordinated, the two of them set off sometime around 5:30 pm to make it on time for their scheduled show which was at 7:00 pm.

The two wind spirits then arrived at their destination as the duo then bid Alex and the twins goodbye, thanking the trio for letting them ride with them since Maliksi was currently unavailable. Once they’ve gone on their separate ways, both Hannah and Amie entered the premises, buzzing with energy and bright smiles as they walked inside, hand in hand. Inside the theatre’s lobby, it was buzzing with patrons of all ages, genders, and races, the lobby was as glamorous as ever with glittering lights shining above their heads, distracted by the glamour the building holds, around the lower floor were several art exhibits holding all sorts of creations from whimsical and merry to majestic and almost life-like. Amie and Hannah both enjoyed the exhibit itself before the two of them went up to the second floor where the Main Theater was. Once it was time for everyone to head inside for the show, the duo then made their way over to their seats while they were accompanied by one of the staff after their tickets were scanned. The two of them took their seats, holding their copies of Ballet Philippines’ magazines that were given to them when the staff was handing some of them out to the guests. One by one the theater began to fill up slowly with people and Amie managed to point out some of the familiar faces they know out in the crowd discretely. In one of the upper boxes by their left was the newly-crowned King of Aswangs, Dominic sat along with his entourage that consisted of his two bodyguards named Viatrix and Ursule, his emissary and younger sister of Viatrix and Ursule, Kasimira who sat beside Dominic’s human wife and the now crowned Duchess of the Aswang tribes, holding her husband’s hand lovingly as they spoke in hushed tones. Soon the lights dimmed around them, encasing the whole theater in temporal darkness before the velveteen curtains parted to show a projection of a swan, the orchestra playing their first notes as the show began.

Time flew by them like a gentle breeze and soon Act 1 of Swan Lake was finished as the people applauded the dancer’s for their superb performance. It was a surprise when Amie had whispered to Hannah that she was starting to like Swan Lake. Act 2 soon followed and everything seemed to change from there on the moment they set their eyes on the ballerina who was playing the role of Odette, (Y/N) (L/N). She moved with such grace and style that seemed to stand out of the crowd, almost as if she was a wind spirit herself, dancing among the clouds. Hannah and Amie couldn’t place their fingers on it but it almost felt like they knew each other from a distant past almost like a dream. Whenever she came out on stage they would only focus on her and her only, almost in a trance, completely unable to tear their gaze away from the ballet dancer, and somehow they could catch her staring back discretely as she danced and this continued for an hour like shy lovers exchanging longing glances from across the room. Soon the show ended and both Hannah and Amie knew this was their time to finally meet her up close and personal.

It was difficult to reach (Y/N) at this point because everyone was busy either interviewing some of the dancers, photo ops here and there, and a couple few relatives and patrons chatting among themselves as the cast made their rounds around the place. “Umuwi nalang kaya tayo, Hannah.” Amie would tell Hannah who was actively looking around for (Y/N) through the throng of people that seemed to grow even further and that they were pretty convinced that she had already gone backstage. Sighing, Hannah was then about to agree and walk away with Amie before they heard it. A voice softer than any song and sweeter than any honey, it sounded light and inquisitive that made both girls stop in their tracks. “Excuse me, are you Hannah and Amie?” The two silver-haired females had never spun so quickly in their whole lives, their hearts jumping slightly at the action, and there before them was the very person that they were looking for in the first place—(Y/N) who was still wearing her costume from the show, a warm smile plastered upon her lips as she stood before them. “Ay yes, kami nga yun.” Hannah was the first to speak, feeling blood rush to her cheeks due to the fluttery feeling she felt burst upon her chest. This was the first time Hannah had felt like this towards anybody really, it was almost as if her confidence had diminished right before her eyes and she could tell Amie was the same too. The two of them were always confident and flirty towards the people they’ve been with but this was the first time they had felt like this in a long while almost as if they were meeting again for the first time in their lives and the same feeling of knowing them somewhere seemed to return even stronger than it was earlier. “Mabuti naman! I honestly thought the two of you already left! Kasimira and Maliksi told me about you guys before! I’m glad na makikila ko kayo ng personal! Ako nga pala si (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you both!” (Y/N) said rather enthusiastically, a beautiful grin plastered on her face that seemed to reach her eyes. At the mention of both Maliksi and Kasimira the two girls temporarily exchanged glances before Hannah caught Kasimira looking at their way with a wink and a playful smile, pressing a finger against her light pink lips before she left with her sisters. Both of them made a mental note to thank the Prince of Tikbalangs and the Emissary of the Aswang King later.

Amie then stepped forward finally gaining the courage to speak after Hannah had gone quiet, flashing (Y/N) a smile of her own. “Pleased to meet you too, (Y/N). Ako nga pala si Amie.” Nodding over to Hannah, the other smiled at the ballerina before she spoke, “At ako si Hannah. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

Looking back at that memory, it felt as if it had just happened yesterday despite a couple of years that had gone by the three of them. Yes, three. The moment Hannah and Amie had met (Y/N) the three of them knew they would be the greatest of friends and perhaps maybe something more than just that. It was hard at first for both Hannah and Amie because of how they had the same feelings towards the talented ballerina but somehow they’ve managed to work through it, constantly pushing down their feelings for her. Throughout the countless days and nights they would spend with her, the feelings seemed to grow stronger alongside the bond they all share, there were days where Hannah would accompany (Y/N) to one of the studios she would practice at, sometimes Hannah would bring her violin with her just to play for (Y/N) as she danced.

On other days, it was Amie who would be with her for the whole day. Instead of ballet, (Y/N) insisted on going to the gym with her or would play sports. There was a time where Amie was genuinely surprised at the mere fact that (Y/N) also did sports like Muay Thai, Parkour, and Kickboxing aside from ballet, and both of them would occasionally spar or teach each other what they knew about their respective sports. Over the weekends, the three of them would always have a girl’s night out either watching Maliksi on his matches, clubbing with Kasimira and her sisters, and basically everything in between. There was never a dull moment between all of them. They would do almost everything together and one of their favorite past-times contained both Hannah and Amie playing their instruments while (Y/N) danced around her apartment, sometimes the three of them would even go out shopping together while occasionally defending each other against creeps who would try and hit on them. Amie’s favorite memory was that one time (Y/N) along with the help of Hannah stop this one creep from harassing one of the salesladies and watch his face turn white the moment both Hannah and (Y/N) landed a punch on the guy’s face. Throughout the years they’ve spent together, both of them had decided to confess to (Y/N) the moment her show had ended and mostly away from prying eyes and ears. Luckily, she had reciprocated their feelings and confessed that she had also felt the same towards the both of them and never wanted to pick between the two of them and break the other’s heart, which resulted in Amie hugging her and Hannah placing a loving kiss upon her forehead as a way to tell her that they were both glad that she had felt the same as well. Despite being polyamorous, this seemed to spark a lot of controversies, several rumors, and backlash from people that never understood how it was. The three of them faced a lot of difficulties together and (Y/N), Amie and Hannah fought for each other.

They were deeply in love with one another and cared for each other more than anything in this world and at this point, the three of them thought they were unstoppable. Date nights never seemed to be dull and all members of the relationship were content with each other, there wasn’t a single fight ever, and if there was, someone was bound to apologize quickly and forget the fight ever happened at all. Sundays were spent playing music together and the rest of the days flew by them like a breeze and soon Hannah and Amie moved in with their girlfriend, (Y/N) since driving back and forth seemed to be taxing for everyone (Amie and Hannah never needed to drive however since they were Wind Spirits but (Y/N) wasn’t so the best course of action was to live with her instead). Throughout living together in the same space, all three of the girls seemed to pick up on the small things, habits, and quirks they’ve never heard of such as (Y/N) talking in her sleep, Amie being a notorious night-owl and a secret shitposter and Hannah who was, surprisingly, a messy sleeper between the two.

Pets were another thing as well, at first, it was only (Y/N) and her pet cat but ever since Hannah and Amie moved in with her, birds of all various kinds seemed to flock towards their apartment to the point the neighbors thought of it as bizarre and since there was a feline in the mix, it was hard to keep the cat away from the wild birds Amie and Hannah took care of. Living together with (Y/N) made Hannah and Amie forget about the fact that they were wind spirits, destined to live on forever, and being with their beloved girlfriend made them think they’d grow old together. The thought had hit them during a certain time of vulnerability but (Y/N) made sure that her two girlfriends lived the life the three of them always wanted.

It was bittersweet really but the three went on to marry each other they’ve decided it was the right time. The ceremony itself was a simple one, attended by close friends and certain family members, and was led by Hank who happened to be an ordained minister and the trio had never looked so in love than they were before. The years they’ve spent together were in pure bliss and color and all three went on to have very fulfilling lives until the end of (Y/N)’s mortal life. Though the pain was unbearable of losing someone so dear to them, Hannah and Amie had never expected something to happen two years after they lost (Y/N).

As Hannah and Amie were looking through their Wedding Album while cleaning, they heard a knock upon their door. At this time of day, their friends were usually busy with their own lives and all, glancing at each other, Hannah could only close the album shut as she spoke, “May binili ka ba online this week, Amie??” Amie could only shake her head at this as she replied, “Wala naman, Han. I mean, sinigurado ko rin na bayad na yung upa natin for this month e. Do you think we should check?” Before Hannah could answer, the person standing outside their door finally spoke, the voice shaking them both to the core, “Han, Amie, pakibukas naman yung pinto please!” Both wide-eyed and surprised, the two girls made their way to the door, opening it quickly as they could, silently praying and hoping to the gods that they weren’t dreaming or hearing things.

The door swung open and before them was (Y/N) in all of her glory. No longer was she old and wrinkly but rather she looked just the way they had met her all those years ago. Young, healthy, and blooming and now dressed in a white dress that looked like it was made out of clouds but what striked both Hannah and Amie was her eyes and hair---instead of their real colors, were nearly the same as theirs but completely different, almost reminding them of Cirrus clouds and it took both Hannah and Amie to realize that (Y/N) was a different type of air elemental but regardless of their realization, the two of them could only tackle her into a tight hug, crying and sobbing out of joy that she had come back to them and that the promise of forever was no longer a promise. Their love for each other seemed to reach the hearts of the gods above them and decided to never part the three lovers ever again. They will forever remain together for all eternity, dancing across the clouds and the skies.

#trese #trese netflix #trese on netflix #amie trese #hannah trese #amihan #crispin trese #basilio trese #maliksi trese #trese fanfic #trese x reader #lieutenant tapia #tapia trese #hank sparrow #hank trese

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Doll Me Up (P.4)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,965 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Tony’s office was expansive, but you were in such a small space of it.

You had just gotten back from your honeymoon and he stopped by the office to grab some paperwork and you had trailed along behind him. As soon as he had closed the door to his office, he had grabbed your hand, forcing it to his crotch. One thing led to another and you found yourself tucked underneath his desk, your mouth wrapped around his balls as he stroked himself, his head thrown back against his chair.

“Just like that,” Tony panted. “Keep flicking your tongue like that, princess.”

There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. His door opened and your eyes widened at the prospect of being caught in this position. Tony was chill as a cucumber though, both his hands coming up on his desk immediately.

“Rhodey,” Tony said sounding surprised to see him and for good reason. You had only stopped in, not announcing you were going to be here. You breathed evenly through your nose but the feeling of it made his cock twitch, it brushing your face. He shifted at the even slight contact, hopefully unnoticed.

“Huh, you are here,” Rhodey said from over by the door. “Maria said she saw you come in. Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”

“Just got back. Landed the helicopter outside actually.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

You were not moving, waiting for Rhodey to leave. Tony’s balls were still settled in your mouth as you sat suspended in the lewd act.

“Uh, went to get something to drink I think. She should be back. Just… stopped in to grab some stuff.”

There was a small pause, and you could only imagine the awkwardness exchanged in their looks.

“You alright?” Rhodey asked uncertainly.

“Perfect. Why?”

Another pause.

“No reason...” Rhodey said trailing off. “Well, you should finish your vacation. You work too much. Gotta make sure that you’re doting on the missus too.”

“Is the single man trying to give me relationship advice about my marriage?” Tony could not help but to quip.

Rhodey laughed and said, “Jackass. I’ll see you next week. Stay out of the office until then after this, you hear me? You’ll thank me for forcing that and so will Y/N.”

“Loud and clear.”

When the door closed, you sucked hard. Tony grunted in response and then a strangled laugh left his throat.

“Good girl. You’re so well trained,” he praised, guiding his dick to your eager mouth.

<><><>

You sat in the back of the car with Tony, your arms crossed tightly across your chest, staring out the window. You were not even trying to hide the tears trailing down your cheeks, thinking of how hurt Liam was in and the aftermath of it. Tony had been angry with you before, Cassandra’s party for one example. And you had both been inebriated which only exacerbated the situation. But him sober though and angry? This was a new experience. You felt a twinge of fear of if he had gotten it out of his system or if he had something else planned. He threatened punishment though, hadn’t he?

He was silent the whole way home, but you could feel the fury. He would not even look at you, sitting as far away as possible.

When Happy pulled into the garage and parked the car, Tony was out of the car quickly. You gathered up your bags before getting out of the car. Tony was striding ahead of you down the garage, not waiting for you.

You caught Happy’s eyes and huffed when he tried to take the bags from you. “I can do it myself, thanks.”

Happy’s hands fell back down to his sides and he looked miffed, but you ignored it, beginning to follow Tony. He stormed inside and was making a beeline for your bedroom. You were already tensing, thinking of the spanking you were going to get. You followed him all the same into the master bedroom and went into your closet to put your bags down.

When you turned back around, you found him looming in the doorway.

He let out a humorless laugh, breaking the silence the two of you had been suspended in. You bit at your cheeks, waiting for him to explode because you had seen him like this before; that manic type laughter.

Tony threw out his arms, “I just don’t get it, baby! I mean, are you really that fucking stupid? You thought taking a plane to another state – let alone city – wasn’t going to piss me off to high heaven? And you hole up in some hotel with some guy like some skank—”

“I didn’t have sex with him!” you interrupted him, offended.

He looked furious at your interjection. “Don’t interrupt me!” He took steps towards you, hands on his hips. “Why the fuck did he answer your phone?”

“I was in the bath! I was telling him to hang up!”

“Didn’t hear that. Odd.”

“Yeah, because it would sound really suspicious if you could. Like I had something to hide!” you said defensively. “He’s stupid but he’s harmless. He didn’t know it was going to piss you off so much.”

“Sure, nothing to hide. I mean you even said you loved him in front of me.”

“I say that to all my friends. It didn’t mean—"

“And then I tell you to come home,” Tony interrupted you now, his voice rising, and you felt it about to boil over. “And what do you do? You can’t even follow that direction even though everything is perfectly laid out for you. Perfectly! Every little fucking step of the way! All you had to do was listen. But no! You have to go and make it difficult for no. good. goddamn. reason!”

He bellowed the last, slamming his hand down on one of your dressers, making you flinch back. He was burning holes into you with how intensely he was staring at you and you folded, your eyes downcast, heat coming to your cheeks. You did not like it when he yelled, especially when it was directed at you. You were truly regretting stoking his anger this much.

“Tell me why, Y/N!” Tony continued shouting. “Tell me why you have to push my fucking buttons! Why can’t you just be good?”

“I’m sorry,” you said hoarsely, tears stinging your eyes.

Tony inhaled deeply, exhaling shakily. He turned on his heel suddenly, leaving you alone in the closet. You heard him slam the bedroom door closed as he left.

You stood in silence, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes, you timidly walked out of the closet, finding the bedroom empty. You shuffled to the bed, sitting down tensely, waiting worriedly.

He returned to the bedroom, the buttons undone on his shirt along his chest and at his wrists. You knew it was because he was getting ready to put effort into making sure you learned your lesson and he would need all the range of motion he could get.

“Go,” he ordered you.

You followed his direction without a moment’s hesitation, knowing he wanted you in the room behind his study where all your toys were. The door in the bookcase was already open and you scurried inside, him on your heels.

His next demand came the moment you crossed the threshold, “Strip.”

You did as he asked hearing him close the door behind him. Quickly, you were standing naked before him. He was barely sparing you a glance, not taking the time to acknowledge you and that cut deep.

“The bench,” he ordered tautly.

Dragging your feet only a little at his icy demeanor, your body shook in anticipation. You climbed up onto the restraint bench, feeling the air move beside you as he came to stand by you. You chewed on your bottom lip, your head hanging, staying still as he tightened the restraints around your wrists and then moved down to your calves.

He was still not speaking to you past the curt commands, and you heard him walk off. You did not dare try to lift your head to follow him, keeping yourself curled in as much as you could. You thought worriedly of what whip or paddle he was going to choose to dole out your punishment. You prayed it was not the ball chain because that one would hurt. He had only used that one to stimulate you, but you only thought now of how much that impact would hurt if he used his full strength.

His footfalls met your ears and you twitched, trying to will yourself to not tense up because that was going to make it worse.

The sound cracked through the room and you gasped, your toes curling. There was no massage or build up to get you warmed up this time. He was using the leather slapper, the triple impact increasing the hit. One you knew all too well, whether it be for pleasure or to teach you a lesson. He was able to be close with it too, increasing his precision.

Tony had not asked you to count, so you did not before the second blow hit. You hissed when the third hit and tears stung when the fourth landed directly dead center across your ass. He was leaving small breaks in between but not too long. The next hit lower near your thighs and you choked out a whimper; he had done that on purpose, he knew it hurt. The next was higher and you could hear him breathing heavier. He was putting his back into the hits.

The tenth fell finally and you almost breathed in relief when you heard him walk away from you. Your ass was stinging, and you thought miserably of the bruises that were to show up.

He only gave you a moment’s reprieve. Tony’s hands were at your calves, undoing the restraints and he did the same for your wrists. Changing positions was bittersweet; your muscles stretched but the pain on your backside caused you to wince. Your legs shook as he helped you to your feet and he pulled you along to beside the bed. You thought for a moment he was going to let you lay down and relief began to flood through you, foolishly thinking that it had not been so bad after all. But you saw the pillows on the ground beside the bed and the toy mounted on the ground.

“On your knees,” he said letting go of your arm.

You painfully lowered to the ground, resting your knees on the pillows – something he had thankfully considered, you fleetingly thought.

Reflexively, you began to lower to rest your head on your elbows to release some pressure from your legs and he snapped his fingers at you, “No. Up.”

You did your best to bite back a complaint, sighing pathetically instead. You kept your eyes downcast still, not sending him a challenge with meeting his eyes.

The toy slid in slowly and your fingers flexed on the floor as you adjusted to it. Tony was controlling it, the speed, the depth. It was shallow at first, working you up. He was pacing and you could feel his stare as he watched the silicone go in and out. He had ultimate control of how hard you were going to get impaled and a first row seat to watch. You did your best to stay in the same position that he wanted, trying to be good. This was without restraints, he wanted you to do it on your own, and you wanted him to forgive you.

Tony turned on the vibrator setting suddenly, and you keened at the sensation. It dragged across your clit, sending reverberations through you as the toy continued thrusting in and out. You were growing slick, relaxing into the movement the deeper it plunged. The dull ache was being overpowered by the tightening in your core with every brush against your g-spot. It was getting harder now to not push back into the toy for more stimulation to release and come.

Fidgeting, your breath was becoming short as you felt yourself spiraling towards release.

Tony turned the toy off.

You blinked, feeling sorrow at the quickly dissipating high you had almost reached the apex of.

His breath was hot on your ear, “If you come on this toy, I’ll put you right back up on the bench. You got me?” You nodded and he demanded, “Answer me!”

“Yes, daddy,” you choked out pathetically. “I understand.”

“You better,” he warned, straightening back up. “You’re not coming until it’s on my dick and until you’ve proved you deserve it and earned my forgiveness, you’re not getting me.”

He only gave you a few more moments reprieve before the toy turned back on. You bit at your bottom lip, trying to ignore the sensation in the toy’s movements now that you knew what the stakes were. He was pacing again and you could imagine his glossed over eyes as he watched the toy sliding in past your folds, taking in the redness on your ass that he had put there. Your chest was rising and falling as you moved to try to keep your thoughts anywhere but here.

Tony pushed you right to the edge and when it was getting hard to ignore it, he turned it off again to your immense relief. Your breaths were coming short and heavy, your arms beginning to shake. You just wanted to lay down.

He started it up again and you let out a small cry. Everything was going to be so sore.

The sound of him walking away while the toy was still thrusting, at a slower pace thankfully, drew your attention and you almost turned your head to follow him. You managed to catch yourself at the last second, swallowing sharply and forcing yourself to look back down at the ground. The pressure was building quicker this time with how worked up you already were, and you hoped he was not gone for long. You did not want to come undone and disappoint him. And you sure as hell did not want to be back on the bench.

It felt like forever but logically it had to have been a handful of minutes. The toy was still thrusting steadily, working you gradually towards an orgasm rather than rushing. You could handle this. You could do this. It was going okay.

Until it was not. The dildo increased in speed and you sighed, closing your eyes tight. You heard a creak and you hoped it was him returning.

Another change, it moved deeper. And the vibration.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered, unable to help yourself.

You knew he could hear you if he was still able to control the toy from where he was. He had not completely abandoned you. Broken, soft cries left your lips as your fingers dug into the floor, willing yourself to try to keep yourself from tumbling.

A gasp of relief exploded from you when the toy turned off. You heard the door open fully again and you sniffled, visibly shaking on your arms now as the toy retracted.

Tony’s shoes appeared in your line of sight and he swooped down, helping you stand. You were weak in the knees, letting him guide you. You mournfully watched the bed disappear from view as he moved you along towards the door back to his study. Where was he taking you now?

Hope blossomed at the sight of the light on in the bathroom down the hall. And your wishes were answered: he had drawn up a warm bath and you almost cried.

“There’s Epsom salt in there,” he told you stiffly.

“Thank you,” you said immediately.

He did not respond and instead put his hand in the water, testing the temperature. “It should be fine now.”

Lowering into the tub, you hissed half in pleasure feeling the warmth and half because of how sore your ass was, touching the bottom of the tub. Slowly, you relaxed, relishing in the tension release that was provided by the salts. Your eyes followed Tony freely now as he walked out of the bathroom.

When he returned, he had a pair of pajamas that he placed on the counter, before shooting you a look.

“Don’t stay in too long. It’s almost 2 in the morning. You need to sleep,” he said sternly. You nodded feebly and his eyes swept over you once before he turned on his heel and left the bathroom again.

<><><>

You woke up with your head buried in your pillow, your arms tucked safely underneath it. You had opted to sleep on your stomach, relieving the ache in your ass. You spotted that Tony’s side of the bed was still empty, which meant he had not come to bed. The bed felt cold without him, even though you were snuggled far underneath the blankets. Maybe he had slept in another room or on the couch. The thought of that only made you feel guilty.

You got out of bed, wincing at having to sit up to stand. Your leg caught as you moved, and you took a moment to stretch as much as you could. You pushed the button next to the window, opening the heavy curtains, letting the sun come in. Squinting against the light, you stared out over the ocean.

A couple of minutes of fresh air might do you some good, you thought sleepily.

Your hand fell onto the balcony door, the handle reading your fingerprint to unlock.

F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed over the speaker, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

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asmo-ds · 3 years

Note

(1) okay so mc and dia are married, this is their first christmas as a married couple but dia is feeling very overwhelmed and stressed out (they have a pact since they're married and mc can feel to an extent how dia feels bc of it) bc he's basically the king of hell, so they suggest they go and spend christmas in the human realm at mc's house. and since mc is an average person they do normal person things, and they're just very domestic and cute.

Home For The Holidays

Diavolo x MC Fluff

Word Count: 1468

a/n: I really hope you like this I really enjoyed writing it! It was very relaxing and nice to imagine :)

Summary: Though he wants to celebrate the human holiday, Diavolo fears he would be offending his kingdom by celebrating a holy day; so his lovely spouse, MC, suggests they return to their home for the Holidays so he can truly feel the Christmas spirit that humans feel annually

Diavolo stared over his kingdom with sorrow as he drank a cup of hot cocoa. Little did he know his spouse stood in the doorway watching the mopey behavior he’d been showing for days.

MC knew how badly Diavolo had wanted to celebrate Christmas in the Devildom, but they also knew he couldn’t celebrate the birth of a religious figure in Hell. As they made their way towards the large demon he heard their footsteps he shook his head and put on a fake smile.

“Dia, you seem troubled,” MC wraps themselves around him, nuzzling his voluptuous chest with their cheek.

“Do not worry, my love, I was just lost in my thoughts I suppose,” he sighs heavily.

“You know, even demon princes need vacations sometimes, perhaps you could finally see my home in the human world and we could spend Christmas there! What better way to understand the human holiday than witnessing humans celebrating it!” Mc leans back to look at him, keeping their forearms resting on his broad shoulders. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he lifts up his spouse, spinning the, in the air with joy.

“You’re absolutely right! Then it is decided! Tomorrow morning we leave for the human world!” Diavolo loudly proclaims as he leaves kisses all over MC’s face. “BARBATOS,” he calls as he runs off.

“If anything happens to him in the human world,” MC spins on their heel to look at Lucifer who had been standing on the other side of the wall eavesdropping, “the punishment will be severe, MC.”

“... Lucifer I’m married to him you don’t have to threaten me like when we first started dating.” -

The couple emerged from a portal in front of a tiny home that resides in a quiet neighborhood, snow filling their vision which caused MC to groan.

“Shit I can’t even see the driveway - here, Dia, take the bags and this key and head inside I have to shovel before anything else,” Diavolo stares at them, astonished. He nods and opens the front door while MC grabs their shovel and begins to move snow away from their car and their access to the street.

“Demons aren’t built for the cold... so I’ve never thought of coming here during winter,” Diavolo walks back outside murmuring to himself as he watches his lover shovel from afar. He crouches down sticking his hand in the white that coats the doorstep, “Snow...” His eyes glimmer with joy as he brushes the snow around with his bare hand.

“Dia, dear! You’ll catch a cold like that!” MC falls to their knees taking Diavolo’s snowy hand in their own. They lift it up to their face and breathe hot air across the back of his fingers, rubbing the rest with their own cold hands to create heat. Diavolo admires their rosy nose and cheeks as they sniffle occasionally before he looks down at the spot he swept away. ‘Home Sweet Home’ the mat that had been previously hidden read and he smiled as he looked back at his spouse who was now shivering as they attempted to warm them up. He nuzzled his cold nose against their own lovingly before leaving a soft kiss on their lips.

“Come on, let’s head inside!” Dia drags MC to their feet and heads inside, abandoning MC’s mission to shovel their driveway.

When they get inside Diavolo finally takes a look at MC’s small home.

“Wow it’s so...small,” he says, making MC blush and wave their hand in an embarrassed matter.

“Sorry I know it’s not much we can totally head back to the castle if you’d like haha!” MC nervously laughs before Diavolo puts a hand on their cheek, both still cold from the outdoors.

“No no, my love, it is wonderful! It feels so homey and less like a workspace made to hold the responsibility of a whole realm,” he laughs, “I feel more at home here than I do at the castle to be completely honest.” He takes in the scent of MC as it now surrounds him.

“This was my childhood home- my mother and father passed away when I was a teen so I’ve lived on my own until you summoned me for the exchange program,” MC blushes as they look around at the home they’d left behind a few years before.

“So your entire life was spent in this one home?” Diavolo looks at MC with a small smile. “Well, I’m honored you allowed me into such an important piece of you,” He gives a big goofy grin, and MC giggles.

“We’re married you, dork, of course, I’m going to give you all of me - no matter how small of a piece it may be I will share it with you.”

After putting their things away MC realizes they have no food that hasn’t expired in the three years they’d been gone. “Oh, do you want to see a human world Grocery store, Dia?” His face brightens up as he nods enthusiastically.

They make their way to the grocery store, Diavolo constantly pointing at random human world winter things and expressing his joy to see them in person.

“Ah, MC, what is this?” He smiles pointing at a candy cane a man in a Santa costume was giving out for donations to some charity.

“A candy cane! Here try it- it’s sweet!” MC exclaims- knowing damn well that it was minty as all hell and their oblivious husband was about to get a very cold mouth instead of the sweetness he was expecting.

Their plan worked as Diavolo immediately spat out the minty treat in surprise, “What is this flavor?! We don’t have things that make our mouths cold where I’m from!” He shouts - grabbing his water bottle and chugging it and spitting it out as the ice-cold water made contact with his minty mouth.

The whole time Diavolo was flipping out MC was crying with laughter as they watched their husband try and figure out how to get the cold sensation out of his mouth.

After they had finished grocery shopping (which took hours as Diavolo kept asking what every single food was) they headed back to MC’s home and MC offered to cook him a human world dinner that was typically served on Christmas.

Diavolo sat at the dining table as MC placed a plate in front of him with various human world foods he had yet to see.

“MC, what is this?! This mushy buttery stuff?!” He asks through a mouth full of mashed potatoes. “YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE BROWN MISHAPEN EGGS YOU GOT AT THE STORE TURNED INTO THIS?!”

“Yes Dia, they’re not eggs they’re potatoes and don’t talk with your mouth full,” MC giggles reaching over with a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth before placing a soft kiss on the freshly cleaned spot.

As they finished Diavolo offered to start a fire in MC’s fireplace as they set up blankets and pillows in front of the heat with a Christmas movie playing on the tv that hung above the fireplace.

“Your cooking is very good, MC! Perhaps I should hire you to cook for me instead of Barbatos,” Diavolo pipes up with a hand on his tummy- rubbing the full organ softly.

“If you think my cooking is good wait until tomorrow. Tonight was Christmas eve so we stayed here but tomorrow you’ll get to meet my grandmother- she’s the one who taught me how to cook and I could never prepare.” Suddenly Diavolo sat straight up, staring down at the human.

“You really want me to meet your family?” He softly says looking as if he were about to cry. He was honestly so touched that MC trusted him enough to bring him home to their family.

“Yes of course! You’re my husband and I always talk about you, my grandfather seemed excited to meet you when I called yesterday to tell him I would be home this year-” MC is interrupted by slightly chapped lips on theirs.

They kiss the demon prince back and they lay there for a few minutes making out, relishing in each other’s passionate embrace.

Afterward, Diavolo lays back down, wrapping his arms around his spouse and holding them close. “MC, I am so completely and utterly in love with you, I couldn’t be happier to call you mine. Thank you for allowing me to come here with you. I haven’t felt so relaxed since my father left me as a young boy to carry the responsibility of all evil. I hope you will allow me to join you like this every year.”

“Of course, Diavolo. For the rest of my life and after I swear I will show you what its like to be relaxed and truly loved,” they respond with a big yawn at the end.

After a few moments he looks down to see his lover fast asleep with small snores falling from their slightly parted lips. He chuckles softly and brushes some hair out of their eyes before placing a kiss on their forehead and closing his own eyes, falling asleep to the sound of a dying fire and the credits of a Christmas movie.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #diavolo #obey me fluff #christmas #obey me fanfic #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me oneshot #obey me one master to rule them all #om #om diavolo #om! diavolo #diavolo fluff #obey me diavolo fluff

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

Text

If this question is too personal for you then please ignore it. I couldn’t resist asking it since I rarely find women like me :)

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic ENFP who loved love, but didn’t want to it for herself. Never been interested in it outside of romantic comedies and Taylor Swift songs. I’m in my late twenties, and would love your perspective on how an ENFP could lead a fulfilling life without a relationship. I’m at an age where everyone I know is either engaged or married. Everyone is extra busy and I feel I need to replace the relationship busyness with something else instead of leaving it empty.

Would love to hear about your experience if you’re open to share.

Sure. I’m an open book, for the most part. ;)

I’ve almost never (I won’t say never, since I have my weak moments watching great movies with an epic romance in them, heh) looked at anyone else in a romantic relationship and thought, “I wish I had that.” It’s great for them, and I love a good romance in fiction, but it I don’t feel incomplete without one. But social pressures are often intense -- people get into relationships and have kids. That’s how the world works, and how it has worked since the beginning of time -- or we would not be here. So, the natural assumption of society is that people OUGHT to be in relationships or have kids. If you have no interest in that kind of thing, you are “weird.” You get people wondering if you are a closet gay person. Or if there is something wrong with you.

Which makes me wonder, why does everyone care so much about other people’s sex lives (or lack thereof)? Why can’t we as a society just accept everyone for who they are, including people who have no interest in romantic relationships? Firstly, my love life or lack of it is no one else’s business. (Just like how rude it is to ask a married couple how soon they are going to “start a family.” Like, that’s not your business either, and they are under no obligation to bring kids into this world. :P But I digress.)

For me, personally, I do go through times when I wonder, “Is this it? Is this all there is? Would I feel more fulfilled if I had a ‘normal’ life and a relationship?” And yet, ultimately, my own happiness is reliant on... me. And how I feel about myself, not the status of whether I’m “involved” with someone else or not. At this point in my life (I have about a decade on you of single-hood), I would look at a relationship as a privilege rather than a necessity. I’m not interested, but that is not to say that an amazing person could come along and change my mind, if I saw how they would be an asset in every way, rather than a liability.

I agree, however, that you need to find something meaningful to fill your time with, since you have so much of it to spare. That’s one of the perks and downfalls of being single -- you are commander of your own fate, you make up all the rules, and you don’t have a thousand familial obligations weighing on you. You don’t have to factor in “us” when making plans, or prioritize the other person -- but that does leave you with an awful lot of “free time” as you get older, since you aren’t ferrying kids to soccer practice. I would recommend that you find out what you really love and start doing it, but also expand into other new areas and “explore.” You have the time to read, to learn, to try new things, to travel, to make new friends (and stay in touch with them), to volunteer, to get involved in an organization that you feel strongly about (there are a lot of good charities and outreach programs that would love to have you).

You need to figure out what makes YOU feel fulfilled... and how you define a life of fulfillment. It’s different for everyone. For me, it makes me feel fulfilled to run this blog, to help people learn more about themselves and understand each other better, so their own relationships can go smoother. It makes me feel fulfilled to spend time with the people I love, to nurture the platonic relationships I have, and to be known as a good friend. It makes me fulfilled to love animals and give them the best life I can. My job makes me fulfilled, because I see it as a catalyst for encouraging people to be their best selves and focus on what is good. Writing fiction makes me feel fulfilled, simply because I love doing it. Some people want to look back on their life and see how well they raised their children; I want to look back on my life and take pride in how much hard work, creativity, imagination, and passion went into filling up a bookshelf with my own stories.

I think to be happy in a relationship, you first have to be happy outside of one -- because you know what you love, and who you are, and what kind of a person you want to be, and know that happiness -- true happiness -- doesn’t hinge on your circumstances, but comes from inside yourself. My life is a box of chocolates -- there are good times and bad times, days I’m overjoyed with life and times when I am so depressed I can’t get out of bed... but a relationship would not fix or change that. My happiness is mine to craft.

Everyone needs relationships -- not everyone needs a romantic one. It can be hard to stay happy when your friends no longer have time for you, because they have gone on to get married and have kids and the most important person in their life is their significant other -- there’s often a blank space for single friends, since being married / in a relationship takes them in a new direction. But that’s okay. You can move in your own direction. I encourage you to find and surround yourself with platonic relationships that make you feel fulfilled. I only ever feel lonely and wonder about a romantic entanglement when I’m unable to talk to people and connect to them in a meaningful way. But I’ve found that when I have a steady exchange of ideas and conversation (real conversation, not superficial) I feel... quite content with myself.

One final thought: your feelings may or may not change, but (not that you need to hear this, as an open-minded Ne-dom) ... be open to the possibility that you may feel differently in a few years (and you may not). I’ve always been told that my desire to be a mother would kick in at some point in my 30s as my “biological clock” winds down and it’s never happened for me, but I’ve known friends for which it has happened. ENPs may not settle down for a long time... but a lot of them also reach that age where they realize they want Si things -- those things rooted in how the world works, which includes... families. To ground themselves, and to pass their genes on. Some of them, of course, never reach this point, but it’s important to leave it open as an option, in case you wake up at 38 years old and go, “You know... I am tired of being alone.” Our lives go through stages -- and if you reach that point, or if someone amazing comes along, be flexible and go along with it.

One last thing... loneliness. I’ve thought that when I’m older, I WILL get lonely without someone being there for me and as a 6, I won’t like being all alone in my major decisions (assuming I haven’t found my self-confidence by then, heh). But... there are ways around that. Lots of people are not getting married and a lot of people aren’t interested in romantic relationships, which means if that day ever comes, I’m sure I can find someone to live with me in a platonic way. There’s always a way to solve a problem and find a “connection” that keeps two people happy -- and it doesn’t always need to involve romance.

#question #asexual #mbti #enfp #mod post #being single #submission

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Sorry, it’s reserved

Honestly neither Marinette nor Chloe had been surprised when Bustier caved to Alya’s insistent requests that the two girls not be allowed to go on the class trip to New York City. Lila had been subtly hinting about how much friendly better thing would be if they weren’t there.

Mostly because just two weeks ago, Marinette had presented her class trip idea presentation; complete with a potential itinerary, pictures of the grand hotel could stay at, the fantastic tours they could go on, and exciting places they could eat. The class had been suitable wow’d.

What was surprising was when, after Bustier announced in front of the class that Marinette and Chloe couldn’t go to New York much to the smug faces of the students, Adrien said, “Cool. Then I’ll skip the class trip too.” He then turned to his two best friends. “What do you two want to do instead?” Adrien was sick and tired of the other students in the class. He had been trying to get them to believe Lila was a liar for months but no one, not even Nino, would listen to him.

Instead, they turned on the two most awesome girls in the class. Well, Adrien wasn’t going to deal with it anymore.

The look of horror on Lila’s face was priceless. However, there was no backtracking now. The dream of a romantic trip to New York, walking hand in hand with Adrien, burst into flames and was now nothing more than ashes.

“Yeah, I won’t go either,” Nathaniel stated. “Doesn’t seem fair. Marinette worked really hard on the idea for the trip.” He never bought Lila’s crap, and he never understood how anyone else did.

Marinette smirked, “I’m up for whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m actually looking forward to now having to organize the trip. Or fundraise for it. And to think I was going to start working this weekend.” The bluenette made sure to look directly at Bustier and Alya, her ex-friend when she said this. “Its only October but believe me, you’ll want to start making reservations fast. Nothing was done but the presentation; which you can have by the way. And just a reminder, a lot of places do require a down payment. Also, don’t forget approval from the school board.”

“Which takes like three months btw,” Chloe said with a vicious smile on her face. She was the last class president. She knew exactly how hard getting a fabulous trip approved of was. “Paperwork has to be filled out in triplicates and if you mess up on even one form, they’ll make you fill out the entire thing again.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I just let Daddy know that he won’t have to make his annual donation this year for the trip. If you don’t want us there you obviously don’t need it. And to think, he usually funds thirty percent of it. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

By the looks on the other students’ faces, it was clear that they didn’t know that. However, pride wouldn’t let them back down. Besides, Alya thought, they had the moral high ground. Who wanted to hang with bullies anyway?

To the other students’ credit, they did manage to raise enough money for the trip to New York. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as much as they usually did. Alya, the new class president, also forgot to make most of the reservations until the last minute, and it was hard to find a fancy hotel willing to accommodate an entire class of rowdy teenagers at the last minute. So they would stay at a Holiday Inn just outside of New York City. The glasses-wearing girl wished Lila had been so busy with her charity work so she would’ve had time to help and maybe they could’ve gotten a much better trip.

By the end, the class trip the class would be getting wasn’t nearly as were or amazing as the one Marinette had presented at the beginning of the year. However, most were just happy to be going to New York.

Lila shot four exiled students a victorious look as she bragged about all the things and people she’d get to see in New York. She had spent months trying to get Adrien to agree to go on the trip but he wouldn’t budge.

She sighed dramatically, “I love New York. The only bad part are the superheroes. Last time I was there Robin and Speedy practically got into a fistfight over who’d take me on a date. I hate getting in the way of friendships.” Marinette snorted. “We leave for New York in three weeks. What will you three be doing then?”

“Waiting for a house to fall on you,” Marinette said easily.

Adrien chuckled, “We leave for L.A in two days.”

That got the classes’ attention.

“Sorry, What?” Alya asked; suddenly getting a bad feeling in her stomach.

Chloe leaned back in her seat, “L.A. It was my idea. We decided since we couldn’t go on your trip we’d go on our own. Let's see… our first stop in L.A, we’ll be there for about a week; we’ll tour some movie studios, go on set for the Star Trek movie that filming. Attending the movie premiere of the newest Marvel movie. Then leave for Indio; it's not that far from L.A, I think. But who cares. We have to be at Coachella, even if only for two days. Then we go to Metropolis. And I can’t remember… Marinette what did you plan for us to do? It was her idea to go there.” She told the class who had looks of sheer dismay on their faces that got worse and worse as the four described the trip.

Marinette smiled, “Tour of LexCorp, a tour of Daily Planet, reservations for the grand opening of Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant, we got backstage passes for a 5 seconds of Summer concert-” She was cut off

“Why couldn’t we go see Selena Gomez again?” Adrien frowned.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Because you couldn’t beat Chloe in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“She is freakishly strong,” Adrien protested. “And she plays mind games!”

Chloe blew a raspberry at the other blond.

“We’ll be in Metropolis for about a week,” Marinette continued, as her two friends bickered and Adrien declared he would have his vengeance. “Then Adrien got to pick where we next.”

“Disney World!” The blond shouted. It was his biggest childhood dream and it was becoming a reality. “We’re going to Florida to Disney World, and then Universal Studios; where we’ll get to see the Magical World of Harry Potter.”

“Geek!” Chloe sniped.

“Slytherin!” Adrien hissed back at her.

“And proud,” Chloe crossed her arms. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Hufflepuff?” She said the Hogwarts’ house like it was a dirty word. “Most notable thing a Hufflepuff ever did was die. And then somehow ended up in Twilight.”

Adrien stood up angrily, “You take that back!”

“Make me!”

Adrien looked at Nathaniel, “Ravenclaw, do something!” Their two houses went together like PB&J.

Nathaniel put down his pencil, “No.” And went back to writing. “Make the Gryffindor do it!” He motioned to Marinette.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, praying to gods’ for patience.

Adrien, she was suddenly reminded, was loyal enough to help hide a body.

Nathaniel was smart enough to have already come up with an alibi.

Chloe as conning enough to ensure they got away it, after goading Marinette into doing it in the first place.

Marinette would eventually snap and kill Lila. She would need them. “We’ll be in Florida for about four days; enough to see both amusement parks. Then all four of us agreed to go to New York next. First, stop Gotham; we’ll be touring Wayne Industries and attending one of the Wayne family annual galas.”

“Then we go directly to New York City,” Chloe said examining her nails. “Mama arranged us a tour of Vogue and Mode. We’ll be going to a few of the runways for Fashion Week. Adrien’s father arranged for us to go see Hamilton on Broadway.”

It had taken a lot of time, effort, threats of going to the police, press, and CPS regarding child labor laws broken concerning Adrien to get Gabriel Agreste to agree to let his son go on the trip (as well as allow him to actually have a childhood). But there had been several conditions; mostly to do with security and proper supervision; which all the parents had, though not to Gabriel’s extremeness.

Still, the four kids agreed to the terms.

“We’re going to a baseball game!” Adrien added excitedly. “A real one. I’m going to eat a hot dog the size of my arm. And cotton candy the size of my head.”

Marinette nodded slowly, already picturing herself patting Adrien’s back as he whined about as stomach ache from eating too much.

Chloe frown, picturing the same. She had lost a pair of Jimmy Choos after one disastrous trip to the carnival that involved way too much greasy food and rollercoaster with two loops. She shook the nightmarish memory away, “Thanks to Marinette, we’ll be touring the Stark Industries and the Avengers tower. All the hotels we’ll be staying at are 5 stars. Also, we’re going to three, three Michelin star restaurants. I can imagine what would’ve happened if she had made the reservations late. We might have ended up in some god awful Inn.”

“Come to think of it,” Marinette paused thoughtfully, “We should get to New York about the same time you do. What are your plans? No! Don’t tell me. I’m sure they’re amazing and I don’t want to be jealous. I mean you kicked us off the trip so you had to have something out of this world lined up.”

Alya’s mouth was dry. She tried to come up with something to say; something to brag about but she knew that come September she’d have to pony up the pics. Because Pics or it didn’t happen. Chloe was active on social media; she’d be updating on a daily basis and scooping out her competition. She’d know instantly if they were lying and they’d never live it down.

Lila fought the urge to throw the biggest tantrum of her life. At the beginning of the year, after Marinette’s trip presentation, she thought getting the bluenette and Blondie off the trip was the perfect plan; even when Adrien said he wouldn’t go. However, it was soon clear that Alya and the other students were in way over their hands. The dream trip that Marinette had spun them would be realized as only a dream as it was clear they wouldn’t manage it without Marinette’s organizational skills and Chloe’s funding.

The trip they got was the standard tourist one. A look around the city, the statue of liberty, Time Square, and a museum or two. Honestly, Lila took better trips with her grandmother.

Maybe there was still a way to save things…

“You know,” Lila smiled sweetly. “Since we’re all going to be in New York anyway, we should do everything together-“

“Can’t,” Marinette stated firmly. “Reservations are reservations for a reason. Tickets were bought. You know how it is.”

Bustier frowned. This had ended the way she thought it would. When Alya and the other students beseeched her to disallow Marinette and Chloe from the school trip, she thought it was for the best. Chloe had always had a hostile attitude that Marinette seemed to have developed as well. It left the rest of the class with negative energy that wasn’t helpful for nurturing their growth.

However, she couldn’t have predicted just how badly things would go. Alya had come crying to her several times about having to fill out and re-fill out multiple forms for the school board. She seemed to get something wrong every time.

The children could barely raise enough money for the trip. And it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as the one Marinette had come up with at the beginning of the year. Still, they were going to New York which was what counted. Most classes wouldn’t even have gotten that far, She thought smugly. It would be a good trip. (Caline had dreamed about accidentally running into Steve Rogers or Thor and being swept off her feet. And she thought that dream wouldn’t even be possible if she was too busy trying to reign in her to most troublesome students which were one of her reason her telling the two they couldn’t go.) However, even that trip paled in comparison to the one the bluenette had planned for her and her two friends. 5-star hotels, trips to galas, fashion week, going to the Avengers Towers, possibly meeting Captain America, Thor, and the rest! It all sounded too good to be true.

“There must be something you can do,” Bustier said. “It would be nice if all my students were together.”

The other students looked at the tour with hope clear in their eyes.

Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe just looked at the teacher like she was dumb. Each fought the urge to remind the teacher that she was just fine with the three not going less than ten minutes ago.

Adrien rolled his eyes, “There isn’t. Everything was bought and paid for. They are only expecting four kids which is why we get to go to so many places. Turns out, not many hotels and restaurants want to deal with a bunch of teens at the last minute.”

Marinette nodded, “Besides you wouldn’t want us crashing your trip anyway. We’d hate to get in the way. We know you guys wanted a drama-free trip.” She through the term back in their faces. “But I wouldn’t mind meeting up one day. You guys are doing time square right. Let us know when and we’ll see if we can do it the same day.”

“If we can fit in our schedules,” Chloe snapped. “It's pretty packed.”

“Not as packed as theirs, I’m sure,” Marinette smiled kindly, though inside she was doing a victory dance worthy of a champion. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

The four left that Friday. By Sunday, the social medias were filled with dozens of pictures of beautiful hotel rooms. The next three weeks were the worst in the class’s entire lives. The other students in the class tried their best not to look but it was hard. Particularly when the picture of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe on the red carpet started to make waves. Pictures of the four meeting various celebrities like Lex Luther and Chris Pine, superheroes like Superman and Batman, of them at Disney World and Coachella had left more than a bit of envy in their hearts.

Their own trip had started out terribly. Alya hadn’t book enough rooms so they had to triple bunk, with some people having to sleep on a cot. And it turned out that the only tours she had secured was to Elis Island and the New York Art Museum; nothing nearly as exciting as they hoped. So they had been mostly left on their own for sight-seeing.

Still, it wasn’t a terrible trip. They ate great good and saw the normal New York tourist attractions.

However, when the time came for them to go to Time Square and meet up with Adrien, Alya, Chloe, and Marinette, Bustier was ready to pull her hair out.

Bustier never had trouble on any of the previous trips, as they were always organized to the minute, but this one had so much free time the kids didn’t know what to do with themselves which resulted in chaos. And being threatened with being kicked out of the hotel. She didn’t understand what was different. The students were usually so well behaved.

Sure on previous trips, there had been two more chaperones but Bustier always thought they were unnecessary. Her students were the best and most well behaved in school for the most part. She was positive that they only needed their teacher to watch out for them.

She was wrong.

And Bustier was very surprised to see Mendeleiev there with her four wayward students, looking very much like the Cat that got the Canary.

“Demetria,” Bustier greeted politely. “What are you doing here?”

Mendeleev didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I was invited as a chaperone. It just me and Gorilla. Between the two of us we keep the delinquents in check,” She said Delinquents at the four who playfully hissed at her. Each of the four wore a black shirt with a different Hogwarts house on it.“Best decision I ever made. I was reluctant at first as it’s not school-related and I wouldn’t be paid for it. But Agreste and Bourgeois are paying me nine times my usual amount an hour to watch the kids like a hawk. Luckily their goods kids. What about you? How is your class trip going?”

Bustier forced herself to smile, and not bite out angrily that it was driving her insane. The kids were driving her completely up the wall. And Caline was more than a little aware of how amazing her four students trip was and to think Mendeleiev had gotten to do it all with them made her blood boil and her eyes practically turn green with jealousy. “Extremely well. We are having… the time of our lives.”

“I’m sure,” Mendeleiev said. She and the rest of the teachers had never been happy with how Bustier ran her class. Or just how much she and Damocles got away with. However, it didn’t matter. Come September, things would change. Damocles had already gotten fired for taking bribes, breaking procedure, and being a complete idiot.

Bustier, while technically, hadn’t done anything wrong would still have to listen to the school board tell her everything that was wrong with her class. And there was a lot.

“Have you gone to the Avengers tower yet?” Bustier asked, not subtly at all. She still hoped that if there was time she and her class could tag along.

“We have,” Mendeleiev told her, bursting the bubble of hope that had sprung in Caline. “It was quite wonderful. I had a wonderful debate with Doctor Banner; it turns out he’s read several of my papers and me, his. While the kids are at the baseball game tomorrow, the two of us will be having a lunch date and going over our scientific hypothesis tomorrow.”

“Get it, Ms. Mendeleiev,” Chloe laughed.

Mendeleiev shot her a stern look but her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.

“Perhaps my class could go with?”

“Sorry, we have a reserved seats.”

Envy flared in Caline Bustier more than ever before in her entire life. If they had been still in Paris, Hawkmoth would’ve had a field day. “Oh but what about watching the kids. Won’t they need you? What would their parents say about this?” A vicious smirk appeared on Bustier’s face. She always thought Mendeleiev needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

Mendeleiev didn’t bat an eye, “Already covered. Already cleared with their parents. After all who’s going to say no to Captain America and Iron Man babysitting their kids. Steve hadn’t been to a game a while and he really wanted to take his son Peter and the rest of Tony’s interns. The kids should have a blast.”

Adrien shot a bright smile at his bodyguard, “Natasha is going too! I still don’t understand how you two know each other.”

Gorilla’s face burned a red color but he remained silent. He wore the bright yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf Adrien had begged him to wear as a show of support, particularly when Mendeleiev revealed herself to be a Ravenclaw (So did Bruce Banner). Captain America and the Winter Soldier high-fived Marinette over being Gryffindors. And Pepper Potts, Iron Man, and the Black Widow introduced themselves as Slytherin alumni.

Where was the Hufflepuff love?

Adrien had looked at Hawkeye with hope but Clint had shrugged and said, “Gryffindor.”

The blond boy huffed and pouted (the pout was how he got Gorilla to wear the scarf). He bet Thor was a Hufflepuff.

The rest of Bustier’s class still steer clear away from the four; out of pride and envy. Lila had attempted to go near Adrien but was stopped by Alya who didn’t want to risk her bestie getting bullied by the meanest girls in school.

Alya had decided after seeing the pictures of the four with Superman, The Avengers, Batman, and THE LOIS LANE that life just wasn’t fair. If it was Marinette and Chloe (Maybe even Nathaniel) would be stuck in Paris, crying their eyes out over not being allowed on the trip. It was what they deserved for being such bullies.

The preplanned tour of Times Square, which was mostly just the kids walking around and awing at the pretty lights. It was actually a bit boring, once the excitement wore off. They found themselves on the highest building there, looking over New York City in its entirety, along with a bunch of other tourists.

Suddenly all the electronic billboards and every ounce of electricity turned off. Crowds up people looked around confused.

The giant monitors blurred and a face appeared, “Greetings citizens of New York, I. AM. THE. Electrocutioner!” Lights were centered on the highest building there, and it was clear the villain stood on top of the building. The building of Bustier’s class was on.

One thought echoed in the minds of each Parisian citizen, “Fuck.”

Before any of the Paris heroes’ could figure out if they should act or not, another team of heroes arrived.

The evil-doer had with him a dozen or so henchmen, each more menacing the last.

The sight of Kid Flash zooming up the side of the building was incredible. Seeing Young Justice kick butt left Marinette a little breathless.

Was this what it was like, she wondered, seeing Ladybug fight.

When some of the henchmen were ordered to take hostages; Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, Adrien, Gorilla, and Mendeleiev fighting back much to the shock of Bustier and her class. Chloe rolled her eyes as she, and the other three pulled out miniature pens from their pockets; did they really not know how often New York is attacked by Super Villians. Seriously.

With a click of the button, the pen turns into a long whip. Chloe refused to be taken without a fight. Her and Marinette, who now wielded a fighting staff, nodded at each other. The blonde snorted when she looked at Adrien, “A shield, really?”

“I don’t want to hurt people too much,” Adrien defended.

“This is why you’re a Hufflepuff.”

Nathaniel spun his trident around. It worked like a Taser and could shock people. Luckily only the villain had electricity powers.

Marinette didn’t know how it happened but suddenly she was fighting back to back with Robin.

“Nice moves,” Robin said after Marinette knocked out a henchman with a high kick. He knocked out a henchman with his staff.

“Not too bad yourself.”

Nathaniel nearly had a heart attack when Aqualad jumped in to help him protect several tourists. When biggest henchmen came rushing at him, the redhead fired up his trident and within seconds the underling was down for the count.

Kaldur paused, “…Can I borrow that?”

Chloe used the whip with ease and grace. She has been practicing with it ever since she saw Shadow Hunters for the first time. Isabelle Lightwood was an icon.

The blonde didn’t know how it happened. But one minute she was fighting off two lame minions then she saw an Arrow guy fighting and then falling off the roof, and the next thing she knows she’s jumping after him. Then they both were dangling off the roof with only Chloe’s whip for support.

“You call this a rescue?” Arrow guy snorted.

“You call yourself a hero?” Chloe snapped.

“Meow!”

Chloe didn’t see how he did it but one moment she was hanging there; the next Arrow guy was swinging her up back onto the roof.

He smirked at her, “You’re a pretty one.”

She waved him off, “Oh go save someone!”

When Superboy crashed down next to him after taking a brutal hit, Adrien gripped his shield and stood in front of him. Adrien was able to block most of the attempts of the underlings to reach the boy of steel. But it wasn’t long until they had them surrounded. Just when Adrien thought he was a goner, red lasers blasted the henchman back.

Superboy stood up, “Thanks for the assist.” He smiled at the blond boy. “Nice shield.”

Gorilla and Mendeleiev handled their own really well. After seeing Gorilla fight, Adrien started to have some serious suspicions about just how his bodyguard knew the Black Widow.

When the fight was over, and the villains detained, the small group stood with the rest of the civilians until the all-clear was given.

The Bustier and her class stared in awe as the members of Young Justice walked over to the six with large smiles. The heroes didn’t even spare the class a glance. Not even when Alya pushed Lila to the front but Robin and Arsenal never even noticed her.

Dick Grayson, Robin, smiled at the pretty bluenette with bluest eyes he’d ever seen and did his best to ignore Batman in his ear about bringing in the Heroes Ladybug, Chat Noir, Queen Bee, and Bright Roar in to Watch Tower stat. He knew all about Ladybug and, thanks to Batman, knew her civilian identity. But to see her in person was a whole different experience.

No, there was a time and place for everything. And right now the time was to flirt with the Gorgeous Superhero who a skintight red suit.

“You’re amazing,” He told her honestly. “What are you doing for the rest of my life?”

“I swear to god if you propose!” Batman hissed in his ear.

Marinette blushed a bright red.

Kaldur handed the trident back to Nathaniel, “This is an amazing weapon. You use it well.” He told the redhead. This must be the new Hero Bright Roar “I wish for one just like it.”

Nathaniel flushed but handed the weapon back to Kaldur, “Keep it. I’m not that good with it.”

Kaldur smiled, “Then perhaps you will let me teach you one day. One on one sessions.”

“Really Kaldur,” Aquaman chastised. “This is a mission, not a dating show.”

Aqualad ignored him.

Superboy nodded at Adrien, “You’re good,” he told the smaller blond boy. Though from the reports he read about Chat Noir, he was only a year younger than him. “Cool shirt by the way. It's nice to meet a fellow Hufflepuff.” He said and then suddenly his arms were full of a blond boy thanking him for existing.

“Breathe,” Superman chuckled in his ear. “Just breathe, Connor.”

“For such good finders, we’re so hard to find,” Adrien said. “I could kiss you!”

Superboy turned the brightest shade of red anyone had ever seen.

Arsenal eyed the hot blond girl, “At least you know how to stay out of the way.”

Chloe glared at him, “Next time, I’ll just let you die.”

“Then who be the man of your dreams.”

“Freddie Kruger would probably take his job back,” Chloe said with a hand on her hip. “Though his face isn’t as terrifying as yours.”

“That girl will eat you alive,” Oliver warned in his ear.

“So you admit you dream about me,” Roy stepped forward.

Chloe huffed, “Get real!”

“Hey,” Alya called. “Robin, Speedy, don’t you want to say hi to Lila Rossi.” She motioned to the Italian girl who had gone pale.

“It’s Arsenal now,” Roy corrected.

Dick nodded, “And who’s Lila?”

Marinette smiled, “Oh I’d totally marry you now!”

Robin grinned and raised his arms in victory.

Batman cursed in his ear.

Robin, Arsenal, Aqualad, and Superboy kept their attention on the on the four. No matter how much their superhero mentors protested. No matter how much Bustier’s tried to intervene.

No, their attentions’ were reserved

#ml fic #ml salt #class salt #Young Justice #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better

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cutie1365 · 3 years

Text

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?�� He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

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myglogic · 4 years

Text

Priceless | Bang Chan | 01

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader

Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Short summary: Y/N is a journalist who dreams of writing a frontpage article at the Seoul Times. She gets the chance to attend the Bang Charity Gala through her work where she plans exposing Kevin Bang, father of Chan and one of the richest men in Seoul. How is she planning to do that? The Gala is a masquarade ball where no one will recognize her. Y/N just wants justice for herself and everyone Kevin Bang hurt.

DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥

The event was full of people. Full of filthy rich people, you might add. It was the event of the year for Seoul’s richest and most famous people. The Bang Gala. What is the Bang Gala, you might ask? It was a charity gala where tons of money was gathered for a good cause every year. The cause is always kept a secret until the gala. Last year the money went to an organization that helps orphans who didn’t get adopted to adjust to society. Sounds like a beautiful event, right? In one year, the money went to survivors of natural catastrophes, another year it went to the homeless. Each year millions of dollars were donated. You couldn’t even imagine how big the sums must be.

Bullshit. That was what you thought. Because the people behind this charity gala were the Bang family. Kevin Bang, the owner of Seoul’s biggest real estate agency, no, you could even say the owner of South Korea’s biggest real estate agency hosted the gala. In the media, he was known for being a generous businessman, always leaving huge tips at the restaurants he was eating at. He was not only known for being generous, but also being down to earth too.

All of it was an act. Because you knew who the real Kevin Bang was. You knew how the real, evil, Kevin Bang was like and how he treated the people around him too. He was the reason why your father lost everything.

You were just a kid when all of that happened. You didn’t like to dwell on the past but you were a girl who hated unfair treatment. The past was the past but it wasn’t easy to forget. In the past two years you have been working for a pretty big newspaper – the Seoul Times. Okay, working would be an overstatement. You were basically there to proofread the articles written by the real authors and bring coffee. But you were still happy to be there because it was a start. You studied journalism but had no experience yet so it was even a miracle that you got a job at such a renowned company. Sometimes you did write small articles but mostly it was about boring stuff, for example, how the private school next door opened their new library which was – what a coincidence – sponsored by none other than Kevin Bang.

Your parents were proud of you because you worked your ass off at university for this degree. It was very underwhelming to get such an underpaid job, but you had to work hard to become the head editor one day. Right now, you worked at the “celebrity” department, where they basically gathered all kind of news about any kind of celebrity. Like for example how BTS got another win for their latest album. It wasn’t what you envisioned. Sometimes you switched departments too and just work wherever you were needed. That is why you needed an incredible story to write, a story that you have discovered. You didn’t only write articles but sometimes you had to investigate too, like doing interviews outside the office if the writer himself was too lazy to do it. But this story was your personal story. No help from Seoul Times or any other editor. You knew that this story, your story, would secure you a job on the top. That story was exposing Kevin Bang.

Exposing the real Kevin Bang. Not the beloved charitable, kind person that everyone looked up to, but the asshole, getting-anything-he-wants Kevin Bang. Why was your hatred for him so deep when everyone seemed to love that guy? The answer was simple. If something didn’t fit into Mr. Bang’s plans then he just bought everything with his money and influence. He was one of the reasons why an orphanage was demolished because he wanted to free some space for his clients, so he built a 5-star hotel on that area. According to your research he made some hefty payments to make sure that this does not reach the media. It hurt you a lot because you volunteered a lot at that specific orphanage. The kids there were not prepared to leave at all. It was a shitty move of him and you hated him more for that.

But that was just one of his many wrongdoings. You hated reading anything about that guy and his family.

♥.

Chaos. The office was very chaotic because of the on-going charity gala. A lot of newspapers used the gala to get interviews with big names, because anyone who had influence attended that gala. But this year’s theme was not optimal to get a lot of interviews: Masquerade. Everyone had to wear masks so no one knew who you were.

It was interesting since all of the people there already had two faces. The theme made a lot of interviewers back out because if you can’t see the celebrity, interviewing them would be difficult.

You were sitting at your desk, trying to find more dirt on the Bang family when you heard a stack of papers landing next to you, making you flinch a little. It was your supervisor, Hana, who looked at you, annoyed. “Proofread these, okay?”, she sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Okay.”, you said, not wanting to annoy her more.

“I need these by tomorrow by the way.”, she added arrogantly.

“Excuse me, what?!”, you said, standing up in shock. “I can’t even get half of those done in a day!”

She stared you down with an angry expression. “Okay, then why don’t you go and try to interview some masked celebrities at that stupid gala, huh? Our top interviewers don’t want to go because they think it’s a waste of their time!”

You sighed. “Just because you have problems, doesn’t mean that you can put all the workload onto me.”

“I am sick of you complaining, Y/N. This gala is stressing me enough already. It’s not like anything happens at these galas anyway, I don’t even know why we have to send so many employees there. The big boss is crazy. Taejoon doesn’t want to go and we have to send someone from our department.”, Hana said angrily, clearly angry at Taejoon who usually does the interviews for your department.

Then an idea popped into your mind. “Wait… So technically if Taejoon goes to that gala thing, doesn’t he get a free pass?”

“Yeah, we cannot identify the celebs there anyway. But we still have to send ten of our people so that they can write down how much money was donated, where the money goes to, blah blah. Also, if anyone decides to show up without a mask, interview them. Stuff like that.”

This was the idea! You gathered information on Kevin Bang for a while now and if you could find a way to get in there, you might be able to turn everyone against him. You just needed to get the attention of the guests and the media. You knew that you wouldn’t get the recognition you wanted but it would be a start to dig the dirt on him.

Maybe, if you tell the boss that it was you who exposed him, he will let you write the big front-page article about him. Nobody knew more shit about Kevin Bang than you.

“You know, if you let someone else proofread these articles, I would go to that gala instead of Taejoon.”, you offered her.

She gave you a tempting look. “You never went, right? Of course, you would be excited to enter such an exclusive event. But please don’t fall asleep, it gets boring pretty quickly.”, Hana warned you. “Also, you can’t wear a mask as someone from the media. You need to stay in the background, especially since you are still a rookie. Got it?”

Yeah, of course, it was because it was an exclusive event. It’s not like you had a huge ass plan to destroy Kevin Bang or something. “Yeah, got it. Can I go?”, you asked innocently.

She sighed. “Okay. But don’t do anything stupid!”

“I won’t!”

‘At least not when you are around.’, you thought.

Now that you got your free pass to the Bang charity gala, you needed to make up a plan. A really good one. Because your operation was big and you couldn’t risk making any mistakes. The gala was in two days and you quickly needed to figure out what to do and how to do it.

♥.

With all the information you had on Kevin Bang, you knew you had to somehow get the attention of the audience that would attend the gala. Through some insider information you found out that there will be a huge projector. It’s projecting at the main stage. So, you somehow needed to get to the tech room to show the audience your evidence.

You found out that a friend of yours, Felix, will be working there on the night of the gala as a waiter for drinks. You were sure that he would be a huge help and approached him but at first, he thought you were crazy. You were basically trying to ruin a charity event. But after explaining why you wanted to do it, he agreed to help you with your plan. There was a designated area for the press, so you needed to get inside and change first to mix with the actual guests.

This was your plan:

1. Get inside the actual building as someone from the press

2. Bring a sexy dress and a mask

3. With the help of Felix get in the employee area to change

4. Act as if you’re a guest and talk negatively about Kevin Bang

5. Get in the computer room to “hack” the projector

6. Expose Kevin Bang

Sometimes you felt like one of those drama Youtube channels. But this was more than just telling everyone about a horrible person. You did this for your family, especially for your dad. Your family was ruined because of him. Your parents worked their hardest just so you could go to university. Of course, you also did this to write an article about him and get a better position at work. But there was more of a personal agenda behind this.

After a long day of work, you finally came home, clearly exhausted. The gala was tomorrow and you were really nervous about everything. Your roommate Jisung walked out of the kitchen and looked at you. Jisung and you met on your first day of university and became friends quickly. He was your closest friend and you knew you could trust him with your life. “Hey, I got a huge ass dress delivery for you today? What are you going to do with such a fancy dress?”, he asked you curiously.

You smiled at him, determined. “I will attend the Bang charity gala tomorrow.”

Jisung’s eyes widened. “What? For real? Because of your job or what?”

You smirked. “Just wait. After tomorrow, I will finally get the recognition I deserve. And yeah, I will get in thanks to my job.”

Jisung looked at you suspiciously as he sat down with a bowl of chips in front of you. “You're planning something, aren’t you?”

You put on a confident smile as you laid down on the couch. “Yeah. Look, I will tell you everything after the gala. It’s a huge thing so…”

“Don’t get arrested or something, dude.”, Jisung sighed. “Well, since you won’t tell me now, why don’t we watch a movie on Netflix then?”

“Sure.”

♥.

The day of the gala arrived quickly and you found yourself with a camera hanging onto your neck in front of the huge ass gala building. You gave your dress to Felix before so he could hide it in the employee changing rooms. Your hands were sweaty as you took some pictures.

“So, we will be at different locations throughout the building. Try to get some good pictures and if you recognize someone, try to get an interview, okay?”, one of the interviewers told the Seoul Times journalists.

As you went to your designated areas you looked around for Felix to get out of here. At the same time, you admired the huge building with a rich history. Literally, rich. The guests were coming in slowly and everyone looked glamorous and fancy. Their dresses probably cost more than you earn in a month. The location was beautifully decorated, the main stage was huge. While looking around you saw the tech people going upstairs. The tech room must have been upstairs. You couldn’t find a good floor plan on the internet and security was high alert. There had to be a way to get up there. Dressing up as someone from the tech crew would be too obvious but no one would suspect a masked woman in a dress. Especially since you were masked, you were even safer.

As everyone was seated Kevin Bang entered the main stage shortly after. His crisp suit looked expensive, his hair was slicked back. His face was half covered by a black mask. Behind him was his wife, probably number 6 by now, and his son Chan. They also wore masks that didn’t do a good job with covering their faces. Your gaze wandered more towards to his son than Kevin himself. He looked handsome, you couldn’t deny that, with his black hair and dark blue, perfectly sitting suit. You also noticed that he didn’t look too excited to stand there. Interesting.

“Welcome to the annual Bang charity gala! I am happy to see so many faces – well, technically I can’t see you but I appreciate every single one of you!”, Kevin said enthusiastically which earned him hearty laughs from the audience. You rolled your eyes. “You for sure have been wondering where the money goes to this year! This year, we are donating the money of this beautiful gala to a brand-new hospital! With the money you donate every year we can build a completely new hospital where everyone can be treated! The best thing about the hospital?”, he started and showed a picture of the future hospital that was projected behind him. “We will get the best doctors! Anything for our residents of Seoul!”

The crowd cheered and clapped politely. The rich were delighted. “Let’s see how much money we can gather tonight!”

You scoffed at his stupid smirk. “What a freaking liar, the money doesn’t even arrive there.”, you whispered angrily.

The event kicked off, classical music was playing in the background. Since the theme was “masquerade” the guests started waltzing in pairs. It did look very appealing but it felt like this wasn’t your world. In fact, this was not your world. You sometimes wished it was. Not worrying about anything, especially money. You knew you could never fit in.

You then got up looking around. Security was everywhere. Then you spotted Felix who walked up to you. “Hey, sorry, I’m late. These rich people never stop drinking.”, he sighed, clearly exhausted as he pushed his blonde hair back.

“It’s fine the event just started. How can I get out of here without security noticing?”, you asked him, feeling the fear inside you coming up.

“Just walk next to me. As long as you don’t act suspiciously nothing will happen.”, he assured you and walked you to the employee changing rooms. You noticed a few glances from some security guards but nobody stopped you.

As you were getting dressed, Felix spoke up. He was hiding behind some lockers so you could dress in peace. “But Y/N… what if you get caught? How do you plan on getting out of here after doing that stunt?”

You sighed, “I need to do everything step by step, Felix. First, I need to get to the tech room and make sure that everyone out there can here hear me. Then I will decide what to do. But I won’t get caught.”, you told Felix while putting on your red dress that had lace details on the top part. It wasn’t tight but still looked really nice. It was a rather flowy dress and you could breathe in that dress. It looked expensive enough for the elite of Seoul. Good thing that you can rent dresses. You then put on some red lipstick and put your mask on that covered nearly your entire face except for your lips. You were unrecognizable, especially since you looked like a zombie normally.

As you turned the corner to meet Felix his eyes widened for a moment. “Wow, you look nice! I bet you will fit in without any problems!”

You smiled at him and then squeezed his cheek. “Aww! Thank you, Felix. I’m really nervous… but I have to do this.”

He looked at you with a worried expression, “Please, be careful, alright?”

You nodded and quietly exited the dressing room. Some people sat at their assigned seats, others were talking about the event. The music was loud but the atmosphere was alright. For now.

You decided to join a group who were talking. They were two women who were gushing about how extravagant this gala was. They were wearing expensive designer dresses.

“I love the gold details in the decoration.”, one of the women, the one who wore a black mask, said.

“I wish they would serve some more seafood. The buffet is horrible.”, the other one said, sighing. Wow.

“But no matter what Mr. Bang does, his galas are still the best!”, black mask spoke up again.

“I don’t get why everyone likes him so much…”, you spoke up, taking a glass of champagne from a waiter that was walking by.

The women looked at you, a look of confusion in their eyes. “Why would you say that? Everyone loves him.”, black mask said, defending the man.

You sighed. “I heard that he's a real asshole in reality. Ever heard of when he bulldozed an orphanage for his new hotel?”, you told them.

They gasped in shock. “He would never do something like that, would he?”

“Well he paid the media so word couldn’t get out.”, you told them.

Then they started discussing if this was real or not. That was what you did for the first hour. While there was some show on the stage, you trash talked Kevin Bang. While some people didn’t even listen to you, others were saying that they had assumptions about him. Kevin Bang was a smart man. He wouldn’t show his real face to anyone.

As you were looking around the room, you felt something or rather someone staring at you. Now that you think of it, you felt that even earlier. Then you saw that in fact someone was staring at you. That suit and mask… He looked really familiar. He walked up to you and held out his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”

You were surprised and didn’t know what to do. “Uh, I’m not really a dancer.”

“Just follow my lead, you will be fine.”, his butter smooth voice assured you. Damn it.

You then took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. He put one hand on your waist and his other hand held yours. You wondered why he asked you out of all people. You carefully followed his steps, trying not to embarrass yourself.

“So, what’s your deal? Who are you?”, he grumbled, his eyes dark.

“This is a masquerade, isn’t it? Why would you ask me that?”, you told him, slightly surprised by his sudden change of attitude. What was he trying to do?

“I heard you talk shit about my father. What the hell are you even doing here if you hate him that much, huh?”

Your eyes widened. Of course, he was Kevin Bang’s son! You recognized him from earlier. “Why do you act like everyone in this room loves him? As if I am the only person who dislikes him.”

He tightly squeezed your hand and waist to symbolize his seriousness. “Oh, really? You don’t know him. He is a businessman, sometimes he has to make sacrifices like relocating an orphanage.”

So, he was listening to you. Interesting. “You call that relocating? You don’t know shit.”, you said in an annoyed tone.

“And you know that better than his own son?”

It was your turn to give him a tight squeeze on his shoulder. “Yeah, I actually have my sources.”

You were dancing in circles and his gaze bore into yours. You would find it cute that he tried to defend his father if he wasn’t Kevin’s son. “I will find out who the hell you are. I bet you are one of the Lee’s. You guys are always jealous of us.”

You sighed. “I am so jealous of you and your life. Oh, fuck off. You know, I don’t have to like you or your father. And here I thought I would dance with a gentleman.”, you said, trying to sound disinterested.

The music finally came to an end and you looked at the man in front of you. “It was not nice to dance with you. Let’s not do that again.”, you said and turned your back, walking away from him.

“Wait! Who the hell are you?”, Chan shouted, gaining a few looks from the crowd. But before he could follow you, you were lost in the crowd.

You tried to go through busy crowds and then tried to find a way to go to the computer/tech room. You decided that it would be best if you pretended to search for a bathroom or something, so you sneaked upstairs without anyone noticing you for now.

It was time. Time to get revenge. Time to show the world who the real Kevin Bang was. Time to shine.

A/N: Hello guys, this is my first (consistent) series on this blog! This is also the first time I am writing for Chan and I hope I do him justice. Buckle up because this story has a lot of twists and turns. I appreciate every form of feedback and maybe even theories! What do you think will happen next? Thanks for reading! ♥

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Spit-Roast Psychiatrist [Part 5, Male Reader][18+]

<- Part 4 | Part 6 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader x Bryan Kneef

For @thatesqcrush‘s Summer Bingo: anal square

With apologies to all medical professionals in the audience. I am absolutely sure this violates hospital policy :)

Warnings: NSFW. Hospital sex. Threesome. Anal sex. Blowjob with bedridden burn patient. Improper sterility procedures for removal of a foley catheter. Basically sounding. Not exactly piss kink (despite the debauched suggestions on Discord, no one drinks from Chilton’s catheter like a sippy-straw) but there is a bit of pee I mean not much but look it just kind of happens, OK?

5,500 words

Bryan Kneef shifted uncomfortably.

In another room, a heart monitor beeped quietly but incessantly, and if it continued much longer, he might go insane. The dry air filling the sterile white walls was slightly too cold for someone dressed in cool linen, prepared for a southern summer. Outside, bees and flowers filled the hazy orange world, but it was always winter inside the Chesapeake Hospital burn ward. His eyes darted around for the offending AC vent. Searching for anything to fixate on besides the man in front of him.

Frederick Chilton was laid out on a hospital bed like a corpse. Inflamed skin wrinkled with scars wrapped too tightly around his bones, as if there were no muscle in between, and white teeth grinned from his skull like a mummy. He hadn’t moved from that bed in months.

Bryan wasn’t one to cower from difficult situations, but this? He didn’t know how to behave around the sick.

“Well, you look like shit,” he at last blurted.

Frederick Chilton rolled his eyes, scowling as much as his face was able without the assistance of lips.

In the bedroom, Frederick reveled in being humiliated, the ego of his outside persona stripped away and torn down. He deserved it, and fuck, he loved getting what he deserved. And the praise for being a good little slut made him melt.

Outside was an entirely different matter. That carefully constructed persona—the esteemed psychiatrist who demanded respect—could not be threatened. Not by a vulgar, unpredictable man like Bryan who knew his filthy secrets.

So why did he call?

“I assure you, it looks better than it feels,” Chilton grunted. His speech was slow and deliberate. Daily sessions with a speech therapist were helping his cheeks and tongue learn to produce shapes and sounds his lips once handled, but it would never be quite the same.

Bryan took a step toward the bed. He puffed his chest out and pretended not to be bothered by the skeletal figure that seemed barely clinging to life.

“I’m not your dick-for-rent you can use whenever you want,” he said, cutting to the chase.

Chilton coughed—a weak, wheezing sound, accompanied by involuntary spittle. “Yet here you are, running when I call.”

Why did he come?

“Any chance to fuck our boy,” Bryan smirked. In other words: I’m not here foryou.

The flash of pain in Frederick’s eyes made him instantly regret saying it. It wasn’t the cute sort of jealousy when he had Fred on his knees, desperate to come—it was the kind that made his eyes drop to the floor.

A few hard lines on Bryan’s face softened. His lips went slack in their bearded nest. He would never admit that he had been worried sick, or the tears he’d shed when he heard the news. Baltimore Psychiatrist Mutilated by Red Dragon. He was pissed that he had to read it in a newspaper first, but your voice was so trembling and weak when you finally called—when you told him the doctors all said Frederick wasn’t going to make it. You were too distraught to think. He had to remind you to eat something. You asked if he wanted to come to the hospital to say goodbye, and he pretended he was too busy with a case.

But Frederick didn’t die.

A stillness came over the room, both men so lost in their thoughts they hardly noticed the other had also fallen silent.

“As you can see, I am in no condition to provide… sexual release.”

“Shame. You used to give great head.”

Affronted by Bryan’s piercing gaze, Frederick turned his head away as far as he could. It wasn’t far enough to hide his tattered mouth.

“I suppose I could return the favor,” Bryan mused, daring to lean closer over the bed, dropping his voice.

Blood rushed to Frederick’s cheeks and between his thighs. He had sucked Bryan off many times, but never had Bryan in a submissive position. The image of him between his legs, piercing eyes gazing up at him with a mouth stuffed full of his cock sent a shiver up his spine.

“No,” he stammered. “I asked you here for one reason.”

He was too skittish for such a thing now—too accustomed to Bryan’s roughness to trust him with his fragile body. Besides, he had not missed the shock on Bryan’s face when he entered the room, or how he almost turned around at the door. What would he say if he saw his grafted cock? Mere weeks ago, the poor organ had been flayed—flaps of skin peeled around the bloody shaft, stretched, split, pinned back down in place, and stitched together again under the head.

It was better now. The surgeries corrected uneven scarring that would have made erections painful, and it had time to heal. But it still felt… tender. Sore in a way that was not physical. It looked like a medical experiment.

No. He was not ready yet. But he wanted to see you happy. Bryan could give you pleasure his bedridden, broken shell could not.

***

You were surprised to find Bryan Kneef sitting in the visitor’s chair in the corner of the hospital room. He was flipping through an issue of The Wall Street Journal with a bored expression, one leg crossed over the other, but smiled and stood when you walked in.

“Bryan? What are you doing here?”

He paused long enough before answering to suggest the question stung—as if you were implying he shouldn’t have been there, which was not what you intended at all. In fact, it explained a few things.

“Shh. He’s sleeping,” he whispered.

A glance at the bed showed that Frederick was dozing peacefully—a rarity these days. You nodded your understanding. It would be a shame to wake him.

With a quiet sigh, you rushed into Bryan’s arms, burying your face against his solid form. Thick arms closed around your waist, warm and comforting, and his beard rubbed the back of your neck as he rested his chin over your shoulder.

“It’s good to see you,” you sniffed, and just like that, hot tears were rolling over the brim of your eyelids, soaking into the collar of Bryan’s white linen jacket.

“You too.”

He held you tighter, surprised at the lurch in his heart. His eyes hung on the broken figure sleeping on the bed and imagined what it had been like for you all these months. This gaunt thing was Frederick recovering. You were all alone when he was unconscious, his body an open wound, machines keeping him alive. Alone because Bryan was too selfish and cowardly to be near that kind of sickness. But he was here now, and the way your body clung to him, he knew it had been a long time since you had someone to comfort you.

***

“Right here in the hospital?” You quirked an eyebrow. Frederick had a private room in the burn ward, since his care was so intensive, but there was a constant stream of nurses in and out.

“Yes, here,” Frederick replied. “I want to see you.” A hungry spark entered his eye, and he sucked a quick breath to prevent his salivation from escaping.

Now that his plan was so close to fruition, excitement roiled in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a long time. At first, calling Bryan was only meant as a gift for you. But suddenly, a familiar heat flared up in his belly, and he wanted to see—wanted to watch your eyes roll back as Bryan split you open.

“Don’t worry, we bribed the nurse supervisor not to disturb us,” Bryan added, hand on your lower back.

“Did you do as I instructed?”

The pressure in your ass seemed to increase as your mind was drawn back to it. “Yes,” you swallowed heavily. “I was wondering about that.” A plug kept your tight hole stretched and prepared, worn under your clothes, just as he had asked.

“Good.”

“So… you want to watch Bryan fuck me?” you purred, starting to get into the mood. You put your hands on the side of the bed and smirked down at Frederick, sticking your ass out for Bryan.

Before Frederick could answer, Bryan interrupted: “No.”

Frederick opened his mouth. You gave an equally confused look.

“I’m his dick-for-rent today,” Bryan chuckled, low and sultry. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Chilton? I’m going to fuck you for the doctor, since he can’t do it himself. Whatever way he wants.” He ran his palms over your shoulders and down your arms as if he were presenting you to Frederick as a gift.

Frederick nodded, not missing a beat as he pretended that was his plan all along, and not an unexpected act of charity from a man who seemed anything but charitable. When he woke to find the two of you conversing in hushed voices like a couple of dear old friends, he felt a sting of fear that Bryan was stealing you away.

So Bryan was going to let him be in charge? He liked the sound of that. After three months of bondage within his own skin, he liked the sound of that a lot.

***

“Pull it out slowly,” Chilton instructed.

Your ass spasmed around the flare of the plug as Bryan gradually removed it, and, under Chilton’s guidance, drizzled more lubricant over it.

“Push it in again. Fuck him with it a little.”

“Yes, doctor,” obeyed Bryan.

A guttural moan escaped your chest as he plunged it back inside, twisting it, fucking the lube back into your tight entrance. Your fingers clenched on the metal guardrail at the edge of the mattress.

“That’s right,” Chilton mumbled. “Good.” He raptly watched you bent above him, arousal building by the second.

He had never been more pleased with Bryan, following his instructions perfectly as he worked you open, first with the plug, then with his thick fingers.

“He’s dripping for you already,” Bryan said, drawing a finger through a bead of precum

He held the slick digit out to Chilton, and he extended his tongue to lick your essence off Bryan’s calloused pad. A familiar taste flooded his mouth.

“I missed the way you taste,” he moaned.

It had been too long since he sampled your arousal, and it pooled like heat in his stomach. Bryan’s breath shuddered at the sensation, or perhaps the monstrous sight of a tongue probing forth from bared teeth.

Finally, the thick, round head of Bryan’s cock was notched against your prepared opening. Fisting the base of his cock, he circled it lightly over your puckered ring, listening to the breathy whimpers it elicited.

“Take a deep breath, my love,” Chilton said. He held your eyes, steadying you with his gaze. “And let it out slowly.”

He nodded to Bryan, who rocked his pelvis forward little by little, stretching you open around his impossible girth. You gritted your teeth and tried to relax under the invasion, but it was no longer Chilton using Bryan to fuck you—Bryan was so much bigger than Frederick ever was, the illusion was shattered in that moment. No plug could prepare you for this. You wanted to squeeze Frederick’s fragile hand, but with the intense burn you were feeling, it might have shattered like glass.

“Shh. There you are. Good boy,” Frederick whispered, and even though you weren’t touching, it was like he was helping you. That soothing, soft, carefully-spoken voice caressed your ears. You felt your lower body relax, the muscles opening up for Bryan, allowing him to penetrate deeper, deeper. “You are doing so well for me.”

Your body surrendered with a heave of breath, allowing Bryan to slide in all the way until his balls were pressed against your ass. You were so full, it frightened you to move. Frederick saw how wide and wild your eyes were, the tremble in your limbs as you gripped the rail, and told Bryan not to move.

“Let him get used to you.” He added regretfully, “It has been a long time for both of us.”

“I’m never in a rush,” Bryan said. A powerful hand gently stroked the side of your face as he waited, stock-still with his cock buried inside you.

Slowly, you experimented with moving your hips. Grinding against him just slightly, you felt the way he filled your walls, stretched your entrance as he slid in the lubricant. It was so hot, so impossibly hard, but it made blood rush between your legs, your cock throbbing to be touched.

“F-Frederick… please, make him touch me,” you whimpered.

There was a flash of jealousy in his good eye for a fraction of a second. He wondered why you didn’t beg him to touch you, even though he knew he couldn’t. You might be able to ride his hand and let his fingers haphazardly twitch over your flesh, but he could never reach your cock from here.

At Chilton’s command, Bryan began stroking your heat, and soon your moans filled the sterile hospital room, drowning out the background hum of medical equipment. He guided Bryan in exactly how you liked to be touched, sharing the secrets of your body. Your lower half was on fire, screaming out for more until you were impaling yourself on Bryan’s length, hips bucking, indifferent to the pain.

Then Bryan began thrusting.

Chilton’s breath was heavy as he watched your chest heaving above him—bent over the edge of the bed so you were hovering above his face, giving him the perfect view as you were fucked brainless. Each swing of Bryan’s hips rocked you forward, your jaw slack, skin misted with a sheen of sweat.

His arms were too weak to reach up and touch you or to stroke his own cock, but he whispered words of encouragement that made your skin flush. “Good boy. You take his cock so well. That’s it… A touch faster,” he ordered, and the slap of Bryan’s skin against your ass quickened. You gurgled out a strangled moan as his cock hit a deeper spot.

“Good. Give him more. He can take it. Do you want more, dear?”

You closed your eyes as you nodded, throat too tight to form more than a strangled growl. It was almost too much—almost. But you wanted to take more for him. You wanted him to see you at your limit with Bryan rutting into you like a beast. Bryan stopped stroking your cock and fixed both hands to your hips like a vice, fingers bruising your flesh as he fucked you harder, drawing a cry with each brutal thrust.

Chilton’s cock stirred between his narrow thighs, envious of the pleasure just out of his reach.

“Kiss me,” he rasped.

You leaned over the railing and kissed his neck first, sloppy and unfocused, lavishing affection all over his skin. Down the side of his neck, over part of his shoulder exposed by the loose-fitting hospital gown, then up his jaw, your panting lips and tongue left a trail of saliva wherever they traveled.

Finally, he gasped softly as you found his toothy, exposed mouth. Your lips became its protection, replacing what was lost. He thought he would be scared—that insecurity and disturbing memories would surge to the surface—but for a beautiful moment in time, he was whole again. He had lips, and they were warm, and soft, and everything he missed. Then your tongue was exploring the smooth surface of his teeth, and his hungry tongue licked up to consume your muffled cries, inviting your sweetness deeper inside.

“Harder,” he groaned.

Your hand snaked around the back of his scorched-bald head and pulled him deeper against your mouth. Bryan obeyed the command, too, pounding you against the side of the bed until its locked wheels dragged scuff marks into the floor, and you were so breathless you almost collapsed on top of his fragile body.

Frederick’s mouth captured your wailing moans as Bryan’s massive cock nudged against a place impossibly far inside you. And suddenly, you were breaking—ropes of cum ruining the sheets, your ass spasming around Bryan’s cock. It hit you so fast, you were practically drooling into Frederick’s mouth, melting as he kissed you through your release. When you parted, a string of saliva connected your tongues. Bryan’s cock was still buried deep in your ass, but he paused to let the two of you catch your breath.

“Keep going,” Frederick nodded to him, and he thrust again.

An inhuman noise choked out of your lungs, your body exploding with overstimulation. Stuffed to its limit, and you wanted more. Frederick wanted more, too. He wanted to be more than a spectator, trapped inside a broken body.

Your searching hand groped low on the blanket until it found a satisfyingly hard bulge buried between Frederick’s legs. You lightly squeezed around it, and he gasped out.

“I want to suck your cock,” you moaned, voice thick with need.

He froze, both eyes wide, the green seemingly as blind as the pale blue one in its scarred socket. You were already throwing back the thin blanket. A tent strained in the center of his hospital gown.

“Please let me suck it?”

“I… There is a…” he hesitated. He wanted it so badly, but fear held him back. Mortification merged with lust in his face, the inflamed pink scar tissue nearly beet red.

You shifted to the foot of the bed and gently grasped his ankles, spreading his legs wide enough for you to crawl onto your belly between them. Bryan followed with you, slipping his cock back inside you, his legs pressed up against the edge of the bed, nested between yours. He smirked down at Frederick, giving a few lazy thrusts.

Frederick glanced between you and Bryan, then back to you, your lips so close to his touch-starved erection. Watching you get fucked turned him on, and he was desperate to feel your mouth, but he did not want Bryan to see it… what was beneath the gown.

You had been by his side since he was admitted, witnessing every embarassing medical treatment he endured. But how would Bryan react?

The nervous stammering Frederick gave as you lay between his thighs wasn’t a no, and you had a safeword if he needed to stop, but it wasn’t an enthusiastic yes, either. Considering the circumstances, you didn’t proceed any further, just rested there, searching his eyes with a gentle expression as Bryan smoothly rolled his hips in a holding pattern.

Somehow your willingness to wait made him feel safer. He was in control, Frederick reminded himself. Bryan was just his puppet today. What did it matter if he was disgusted?

“Suck it, then.” His voice was sure. Aloof, even. But it trembled with emotion churning just below the surface.

You pulled the medical gown up over his hips.

And there was his cock, standing partly erect, with all its rosy mesh texture. In a few months or years, the graft texture was supposed to fade into smooth skin, indistinguishable from the original, but right now, it looked like a fishing net of flesh had been pulled over it and sewn with a zig-zagging seam down the underside.

From the center of its tip snaked a long yellow catheter, the other end feeding into a urine collection bag strapped to his thigh like a gun holster.

You circled the meeting of the tube and his cock with your finger. He hissed, and it twitched. You pulled away and glanced up to his face. His jaw was hanging open, but with no lips or eyebrows, it was difficult to assess whether it was slack with lust or open in a silent scream.

“Did that hurt?”

“N-no. Oh god,” he groaned. His fingers dug into the sheets. They could not grip tightly, but his body shuddered with the attempt.

Frederick instructed you on how to take the catheter out. You had seen it inserted and vaguely understood the process, but fortunately, he had a medical degree and academic knowledge of the procedure (if not as much practice as a nurse).

“That syringe there will do,” he gestured with his chin and signaled when you found the right one.

Bryan pulled out and patiently assisted the scavenger hunt, though he was averting his eyes from the reconstructed thing between Frederick’s legs. It did not make Frederick feel appealing, but at least it was better than a sarcastic remark. Even a half-joking “you look like shit” comment would have made him crumble, and perhaps Bryan was skilled enough at exploiting vulnerabilities to recognize that.

“And bring the kidney dish. Yes, that one.”

After disposing of the half-full plastic bladder of warm yellow liquid, you brought the supplies over to the bed and sprawled back out between his legs. Bryan stood nervously behind you, kneading your ass cheeks in his large palms.

“There is a small inflated balloon holding the catheter inside my bladder, so it cannot slip out. You will need to deflate it first.”

“A balloon?” You tilted your head curiously. “How does it feel?”

Taking the end of the yellow rubber tube in your fingers, you gently pulled until you felt resistance, the tiny inflated ball pressed against the wall of his bladder at the entrance of the urethra. You twisted it slowly, rubbing the ball against the internal opening.

Frederick’s back wanted to arch, but he was helplessly immobile in his body, completely at the mercy of whatever you chose to do. He realized in that moment how vulnerable he truly was—that you could do anything, and he couldn’t escape or resist. He gasped out, but not in pain.

“You like that?”

His breath stuttered, but he couldn’t quite form a response. He didn’t know if he liked it. It felt strange. Not unpleasant. He felt full. On the threshold of torture, but something was thrilling about it—electricity sparked and built deep inside as you kept moving it.

You were barely touching the catheter anymore, only holding the end as you searched for the balloon port, but each tiny vibration made him whine softly.

“The orange cap. Use the… s-syringe… to… drain the…”

By the time you drained a few milliliters of water into the syringe, he was moaning loudly, incoherent.

Now when you pulled, there was no resistance to the tube sliding out. As you started to remove it, the deflated balloon passed over his prostate. You recognized it by the familiar whimper—the same stuttery, breathy cry he gave when you fingered him and found just the right spot. You stopped pulling and let it slide back in a little.

He choked, panting and begging, “P-please… please!” but wouldn’t tell you please what? Stop? Faster? More? Don’t?

In truth, he did not know. It burned, but it felt like stroking the shaft of his cock from the inside. It was humiliating—urine dripped from the end of the tube. He had no control over it. He felt so alive. So wanted for the first time in months of lying in that bed. The way your eyes lit up, your lips quirking at his every trembling breath. The way you whispered, “Easy. You’ve got this. Almost there.”

He was on the verge of coming when you pulled it the rest of the way out and set it aside in the tray. You gripped his cock firmly but gently, tilting it up to show Frederick the tip.

“Look at that. Your cock is gaping open like your asshole when Bryan fucks you,” you smirked. A bit of that rough, teasing quality entered your voice—an echo of the way you and Bryan used to use Frederick like your personal sex toy.

But you were going to be gentle today.

Extending your tongue, you laved over the head of his cock, soothing the stretched hole. Then all at once, your warm, wet mouth sank over his entire length, and he let out a shattered wail that was heard through the hospital wing.

Frederick went absolutely brain dead at that moment. His entire existence floated in a shimmering void with no up or down, no gravity. There was nothing but dizzying pleasure consuming his senses. Going without sex—and until recently, without touch—for so long made every sensation more intense than seemed possible. Your head bobbed up and down in his lap, lips wrapped around his cock, and waves of volcanic heat exploded up his vertebrae with each stroke. He still could not arch his back, jerk his hips into your mouth, or writhe beneath you. All of that frustrated kinetic energy came out in uncontrolled vocalizations. The nurses must have been bribed well to not come running at the hoarse, fevered cries.

His cock felt like a cock again, not some pathetic thing discarded after surgery. He couldn’t wait to come down your throat.

He almost didn’t notice Bryan was still standing there watching, obediently waiting.

“Fuck him,” Frederick managed to hiss.

A small pink smile flashed across Bryan’s lips as he nodded and leaned over you.

Your throaty groan vibrated around Frederick’s cock as Bryan pushed forward, gripping your ass to hold you still as he split you open again. He didn’t wait for you to adjust this time, doing just what Frederick had asked—he fucked you. Skin slapping skin echoed through the small room as you choked on Frederick’s cock, powerful thrusts pushing you forward and down.

Bryan sharpened your focus. You had started with your tongue languidly exploring the underside of his cock, flicking over the sensitive area beneath the crest of its head. Warm wetness traced along scars where stitches had been removed and the flesh was still raised, making his skin erupt in tingles. Now, you hollowed your cheeks and held on for the ride.

Continuous moans tore from Frederick’s throat, louder as you drove him toward his climax. He wanted to really fuck your mouth, control your pace, but he couldn’t even lift his arms.

As if reading his mind, Bryan’s large, veined hand ran down the length of your spine and settled possessively on the back of your neck. His eyes met Frederick’s, bushy grey brows raised in question.

The corner of Chilton’s mouth quirked—a tug of his cheek—and he nodded. “Yes… faster. Make him go faster.”

Bryan’s fingers snarled into your hair and pushed you down onto Frederick’s cock, then dragged you back up and shoved you down again. Frederick sighed in relief as you gagged on the head striking the back of your throat. He pretended it was his hand controlling you—savored the tears streaming from your eyes, the drool smearing your lips and pooling around the base of his cock. Most of all, he relished how willingly you took him—let him abuse your mouth for his pleasure. You were so eager.

Sensing that Frederick’s mind was gone on that last, desperate stretch toward release, Bryan took charge, setting a punishing pace as he fucked you harder and faster in time with the rhythm he was pumping your head. Bryan was a bit skeptical at first, but listening to you gag, he wished he could have a turn sucking Frederick off. But it was almost as good using your mouth like a masturbation sleeve to jerk him off.

“Take his cock like a good boy. Nice and sloppy,” Bryan growled. “Make him come, and don’t spill a drop. You swallow it all.”

Frederick moaned again. He was so close. Heat coiled in his lower body; his balls felt so heavy and tight, ready to burst.

Each time Bryan pulled you back, your tongue did this perfect little swirl, sometimes over the tip or under the crown of his cock. A sinful flourish before his heavy hand impaled your throat on Frederick’s throbbing length. He wouldn’t last much longer at this rate. Looking down at the both of you—Bryan’s face drawn in effort, sweating, and you beneath him, cheeks hollowed as your nose met Frederick’s scarred-bare pubic mound—he couldn’t help think he didn’t deserve you. Either of you. So devoted to him in his time of need. A maddening heat rose under his abdomen. He was going to… going to—

“C-come inside him. Come in his ass,” Frederick choked out. Saliva ran down his chin wantonly without lips to collect it. His eyes were barely open and rolling back in his head.

Bryan’s breathing grew erratic and turned to audible grunts as he chased his pleasure in your tight little hole. There was no restraint now—he mercilessly abused your ass and your mouth, creating a symphony of Chilton’s cries and your choked gagging. He wasn’t sure if you could take it—usually, it was Chilton he treated this way—but your walls were gripping around him, eagerly pleasuring his cock while your hips pushed back into his thrusts. You were just as needy a cockslut as your boyfriend.

The antiseptic air seemed to still for a moment, like the perfect silence that precedes a thunderclap. Bryan’s rutting hips hitched, then came crashing back down, sheathed to the hilt inside you as he sheathed your throat around Frederick, and in an instant, you were filled with hot cum from both ends. Frederick gave the small whimpering cries of a dying animal as his bitter release coated your tongue, salty, coppery, and thick. Bryan’s roar was that of an apex predator, your inner walls flooding with his seed.

A euphoric feeling settled over you. The feeling of being claimed, totally and completely, surrounded by two men you loved and trusted, knowing you brought them satisfaction.

You sucked Frederick through each twitching aftershock until there was nothing left to be milked from him, and his cries turned to uncomfortable sobs. Only then did your lips release him, shiny and red, and already softening.

Bryan, on the other hand, was hard as steel when he pulled out of you, and knowing his quick recovery time, ready to go again if need be. But that wouldn’t be advisable, considering the hospital staff would only look the other way for so long.

You quickly pulled your underwear back on, cringing at the squishy feeling of Bryan’s dripping cum being pressed into your skin. After returning Frederick’s legs to their usual closed position, you carefully crawled onto the edge of the mattress, avoiding the paths of tubes and wires attached to him, and gently cradled his prone body.

His breath was steadying, and his eyes were watery with emotion, coming down hard from his high. You surreptitiously brushed a tear away with your thumb. He wouldn’t want you to notice he was crying, but it would be worse if Bryan saw. So you held him, whispering soothing praises, and helped him calm down while Bryan cleaned himself up and made sure there were no stray fluids on the floor.

Then Bryan stood, once again unsure.

Where did he fit, with the bed too narrow for two people to cuddle on, much less three? Did he even want to join? Hospitals reminded him of death, and Frederick’s cadaverous figure made it worse. Fucking you with him was fun, but it felt like a last request—a favor for a dying man. Though as he understood it, Frederick had already beaten the odds and was going to survive, barring complications. But it still made him shudder.

He watched you smiling at him, gently whispering comfort with your arm so carefully draped around him, and watched his mutilated mouth try to smile back. Your eyes were transfixed on each other. Another pang throbbed through Bryan’s heart. He wanted to be part of that.

He took a step forward.

What if Frederick didn’t want him to be part of his lovey-dovey snuggle? It was stupid. Bryan was only here to fuck, anyway. It was what he was good at. Bryan Kneef didn’t do clingy emotional bullshit, and this was way too fucking Hallmark right now.

He took a step toward the door. It was roughly in the same direction. The last thing Bryan Kneef wanted was to appear indecisive.

But before he could pass the foot of the bed and lock his trajectory toward leaving, Frederick’s eyes shot open and froze him. He repressed another shudder, still freaked out by his ghostly blue eye.

“Thank you,” he said. His face was unreadable (there were not enough features left to read), but his voice had a hopeful edge.

“My pleasure.” A surprisingly uncomplicated reply. It didn’t seem the time for tacky vulgarity.

You looked up at him, too, and the combined forces of your puppy-dog gazes broke his resolve. He pivoted away from the door and pulled up a chair beside the bed so he could lean close, resting his head against your warm shoulder and gently stroking Frederick’s withered arm.

Frederick hummed contentedly at the contact, and he let out a long breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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#Frederick Chilton x reader #bryan kneef x reader #Frederick Chilton x Bryan Kneef x Reader #male reader #thatesqcrushsummerbingo #my writing

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