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suckerfornat · 3 years

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Pt 1 Can I please request Natasha x small fem reader? R is small, adorable, incredibly sweet and understanding. However she’s had a rough and painful past but nobody knows but Nat. Because of this they have a close bond, Nat is very protective and deeply in love with R but has yet to tell her. One day a new recruit tries to flirt with R, making her incredibly uncomfortable. Pt 2 The recruit starts to become a bit handsy and tries to lean in and kiss R causing her to freeze up in distress. Natasha seeing this, immediately becomes protective and angry, and comes to her rescue. After breaking his wrist and scaring him away, R immediately clings to Nat hugging her and hiding her face in her shoulder. Pt 3 Nat slightly blushing, returns the hug and whispers words of comfort. Seeing it as a good time as any, Nat confesses and swears to protect R. R hearing this, gives a blushy smile and pulls Nat down to a kiss causing Nat to freeze in shock before melting into the kiss and pulling R closer. When they pull away, R tells Nat she loves her as well and Nat asks her to be her girlfriend. It’s a really fluffy request, and I hope it makes sense.

Saw this request once and copied it, I'm not sure if the blog I had it from is still active, I couldn't find them again

I didn't want to make the assault too drastic because it's triggering for me and I left the wrist snapping out because I don't think Nat would get that violent infront of someone who is already scared, I hope it's still accurate enough for the request!!

TW: MIGHT TRIGGER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED, NO CLEAR DESCRIPTION BUT PERSON BASICALLY DOESN'T LET READER LEAVE FOR A FEW SECONDS SO BE CAREFUL IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE WHEN IT COMES TO STUFF LIKE THIS

"Need help putting those mats away pretty girl?" You whirled around at the question, having been too deep in thoughts to notice one of the new recruits coming up to you. Natasha, who was only a few feet away and putting some of the training equipment away as well immediately looked over, ready to step in if he came any closer.

You had quite the rough past and were sensitive when it came to men because of it so she naturally always had her eyes on you, especially at Tony's famous parties where her being around you was the only thing that helped with the sometimes disgusting comments and flirting approaches of men. They seemed to take you as easy targets, you were quite small and looked fragile even though you did posses enough strength to fight very well - which had gotten you in this position, as one of the trainers of new recruits at the Avengers facility.

"It's fine, thank you, enjoy your break." You cursed yourself internally for how high pitched your voice sounded, already getting nervous at the sight of the bulky man who often flirted with you, standing right in front of you . Him calling you 'pretty girl', something you definitely didn't want to be called by him, only made it worse. You wanted to call him out on it but him being so close made your throat close up and you knew anything you would say now would come out squeaky and quietly, so you just let it slide.

He leaned against the wall to your left, making you feel even more trapped, your heart beat slowly getting faster and more erratic.

"I actually wanted to ask you if you could come and help me with something real quick, there is this one move I just can't get right." He smiled slightly at you and since he was a recruit and you were obligated to train and help him, you nodded and went with him to one of the training rings.

He began rambling about how this one pose was difficult because of his balance.

It was a quite easy stance made to set up an attack but since people have different talents you didn't want to judge and gently tapped against his knee to get it more outwards, explaining to him how it will help distribute the weight and make him shoot forward faster once he moves to attack. He seemed to only be listening halfway, his eyes set on you - or more like the naked skin between your training shirt and your leggins.

"Is this the right way, princess?" You almost couldn't keep your pokerface at the use of this cringy pet name so you opted so simply shaking your head and moved closer to correct his slumped pose that lacked all tension.

You tried to remember how you yourself had once struggled with some fighting poses, lacking the strength and balance that you now, after a lot of training, possessed and that you should be patient with others who are still learning.

Natasha on the other side of the room had been listening and watching while cleaning up and the grip she had on the mat in her right hand at the use of the pet name for you was already so tight that it had marks. She closely watched, easily reading your body language that clearly showed that you had absolutely no interest in him but the recruit didn't seem to understand that and moved even closer before putting his hand on your shoulder and smoothing over your hair.

The mat in Nats hand ripped as she clutched it even tighter before she let it drop and marched over, seeing the way you froze up and seemed to be a few seconds from a whole panic attack.

The recruit apparently did not really care, following you when you moved a few steps back and blocking your way to the exit when you turned to that direction, moving closer and closer, intending on kissing you since you were already so conveniently right before him. He had attempted to flirt with you countless times and you were always simply friendly and never reacted to any of it correctly so his patience was gone now and his ego convinced that you were just playing hard to get.

Before he could actually go through with his plan, Nat was there, pulling him away from you with a vice like grip on his neck as he let out a high pitched scream due to her nails that roughly embedded themselves into his skin.

She threw him on the ground, a whole feet away from you before crouching down before him: "Are you incapable of reading body language? I thought you guys learned that before you got in here to train." She raised an eyebrow at him when he seemed to struggle to find a response for a few seconds.

"Yes, we learned that", after a short pause he added a careful ma'am, terrified by the way the red head was hovering over him.

"It doesn't seem like you really learned the lesson then, hm?" Her voice sounded casual but the way she had her eyes fixed on him and the smile on her lips that could only be described as perpetratory made it clear, even to him, that she was not happy with him right now.

She grabbed his wrist, him wincing at the harsh way she was handling him as she pulled him to his knees, standing in full height before him. "Maybe you need a reminder of what you learned. Do I look amused at the moment?"

He silently shook his head and she continued before he could properly answer her: "Atleast something you can read. Go and change and then meet me in the hall at 7am sharp tomorrow and we'll see what Steve thinks about this."

His eyes widened in panic, realising that she might kick him out for this but the way she was looking down on him told him that arguing with her would be no use so he simply mumbled a "Yes ma'am", quickly stood up and walked to the locker room to change.

Nat was just about to turn around to you and see how you were doing when you already approached from the side, basically falling into her arms, quickly stabilised by her as she pulled you closer and felt you snuggling deeper into her shoulder, her hands automatically soothing over your back and your hair to calm you down. You were shaking a bit, past memories and trauma having come up. You usually handled it quite well but in this situation you had been caught of guard, not expecting someone to flirt in such an uncomfortable way here. During parties? In the city? Always. But not here, in the training room. Maybe you shouldn't have worn your leggins, would it have helped? Or maybe you shouldn't have stepped so close to him when you had helped him. Had this been your fault? Had you given the wrong signals?

Natasha noticed that your thoughts were spiraling by the way you started to tense in her arms so she moved her head a bit downwards to your ear and quietly spoke to calm you down: "It wasn't your fault, alright? It doesn't matter what outfit you wear, he asked you to help him with a pose and you did, it was very clearly he was crossing a border when he started to make advances and he ignored it completely. He was the one who blocked your way several times and he was the one who didn't let you leave, Y/N, it wasn't your fault, at all. Do you understand?"

She stepped a little bit back to make you look up to her, so she could tell if you were lying while answering her. You thought about her words for a moment and realised that your guilt was simply from the past, when men had told you that it had been your fault, that you were the one who had moved too close past them, that you were the one who had flirted even though you had just been friendly. Natasha was right, it had not been your fault, you had simply wanted to help.

So when she very gently pulled your chin up to meet her eyes, you smiled and nodded which made her smile as well.

"Are you okay milaya?" Nats use of the pet name made your smile even deeper, it was sweet when she did it and the way she said it in russian made you shiver on the inside. You simply nodded again and she moved her hand from your chin to tuck a hair strand that had gotten lose while you had nodded behind your ear.

"Thank you." Your voice was very quiet but she had heard it and smiled before resting her hand at your cheek, enjoying the feeling of your warm skin underneath her fingers.

"I'll always be here for you, Y/N." Her eyes were set on yours and the way yours seemed to sparkle at her words gave her the courage to continue.

"I'd never let anyone hurt you, I promise you're safe with me", she hesitated a second before deciding to confess, "I love you, Y/N."

Your eyes widened in surprise and she was about to pull her hand back and apologise but in the same moment you moved forward, grabbed her face and kissed her. She was shocked for a second, body tense underneath your fingers, not having expected you to react so positive to her confession but it only lasted a millisecond before you could feel her basically melt into your hold on her, muscles relaxing.

The hand that had rested on your cheek wandered to your hair and she tugged gently on it, taking over the kiss while her other hand grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against her, causing you to gasp. She immediately tried to break the kiss and ask if you were okay but you tightened your grip on her face and deepened it, letting her know that it was just a gasp of surprise.

Nat relaxed back into the kiss, both of your hands wandering over one another's body and exploring, you enjoyed her soft skin as you let your hands trail up her shoulders and then to the free skin on her arm.

You could have kept kissing for hours but your breathing was irregular from the make-out session and you needed air for a moment.

Nat, always observant, noticed and let you go although not before she set another soft kiss on your lips.

Her hands were currently on your face as she gently wiped over your lips with her thumb, you probably had her lipstick smudged all around them but you simply stood still, breathing for a second and enjoying having her hands on you, feeling safe and protected with her this close.

After a few seconds you decided you had had enough air and moved a step towards her as well, wanting another kiss. Her hands pulled you closer to her face once you were directly in front of her again but you stopped when your lips were almost at hers and whispered a still kind of breathless: "I love you too, Nat." The bright smile that showed up on her face was interrupted by you pressing your lips against hers before you started another make-out session, content and safe with feeling her arms snake around your shoulders, holding you deep in her embrace.

#natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #fanfiction #soft natasha romanoff

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giuliafc · 3 years

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Moonlit Tears

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020268

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13839874/1/Moonlit-Tears

A confused and heart wrecked Chat Noir finds a Ladybug in tears atop the Eiffel Tower. But when the two heartbroken heroes compare the shattered pieces of their hearts, they realise that those pieces look very similar. In fact, they're right the same. LadyNoir/Adrinette.

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The low humming of sobs was the only sound that reached his ears as he landed gracefully at their usual spot atop the Eiffel tower. He gasped and didn’t move, unsure of what to do. His heart was already heavy with chagrin. He had transformed and ran across the rooftops for the last two hours trying to calm himself down. Trying to avoid being the next akuma victim. He couldn't bear the thought that his Lady could possibly have had her heart broken today too.

He sat with feline elegance next to her. She didn’t even acknowledge him, inwardly looking as she was. He didn’t blame her. She was always so open, so generous, so ready to help everyone. She had the right to be upset for once and to not bother to say hi. He didn't want her to think that he had been there all that time without letting her know, though. That would be plain rude.

“Little kitty on a roof, all alone beside his Lady,” he started singing, changing the words of the song on purpose. He heard her gasping, then she stopped sobbing. She slowly stretched her legs and hung them down from the metallic structure they were sitting on. She straightened her back, trying to wipe her eyes dry with her fingertips, but failing miserably. New tears rolled out, renewing the dampness on her cheeks.

“I thought it was ‘ without his Lady’,” she pointed out, sniffling loudly.

He smirked with a concerned look. “And you’re right, Buginette. But I felt lonely even sitting beside you tonight. I’ve been here for a while and you haven’t even noticed.”

She sniffled again. “Sorry, Chat Noir. I had a really bad evening. I transformed and ran across the rooftops for a good couple of hours, but I still didn’t feel better. I came here to be alone, safe from prying eyes.”

“Oh.” His ears drooped. “Do you want me to leave?”

A shadowed smile popped on her lips. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to be patrolling tonight.”

“I wasn’t patrolling,” he said, “I had a bad evening too. A bit like you, I needed to vent, so I ran for a while, ending up here. I was surprised to see you. And even more surprised to hear you crying.”

She wiped her eyes one last time and finally they came dry. “Care to tell me what upset you?” She saw him tense, so added quickly, “If it won’t reveal your identity of course.”

He sighed. “I don’t mind telling you, Buginette, but I think you need to vent more than me. I hate seeing you so upset. Who do I need to beat up?” He faked a scowl and posed like a boxer.

She looked at him in amazement and then erupted into a crystal laugh. “Oh thank you, chaton. I needed it. Thank you so much.” She hugged him tightly and kept laughing. But the more she laughed, the more her laughter lost its light. It darkened, until she sobbed again, clenching her fists against the spandex material of his suit on his chest. He tentatively hugged her. When she didn’t react by rejecting his touch, he tightened his hold and held her closer, patting her hair in a soothing rhythm. A quiet purr began rumbling into his chest; after an initial gasp, Ladybug hugged him back and his purr renewed.

“I told him tonight,” she whispered eventually.

“Him?” he asked, carrying on with his purring and gentle rhythm of his hand over her hair.

She sniffled again. “Yes. The boy that I love. You remember? The one I told you about when we faced Glaciator.” She paused, happily lulling herself in the cathartic feeling of the purr. “I’ve never been able to tell him up to now. And I knew I was setting myself up to fail, because he’s told me before that he loves someone else. But I drank a couple of drinks too many; he was so kind to drive me home, and was being nice with me. So I just... told him.”

A sense of déjà vu hit Chat Noir. He gasped almost too loud, causing Ladybug to look at him with a puzzled frown on her face. He put a hand on her shoulder and with the other, he lifted her chin so she would look into his eyes. “What did he say? Did he reject you? If he made fun of you in any way, tell me his name and I’ll haunt him in his sleep forever.”

Despite the pain that he could read in her eyes, Ladybug genuinely smiled at the remark. “Thank you, Chat Noir,” she said. “But no, he didn’t reject me.”

Now it was his turn to be puzzled. “Then, why are you crying?”

“He didn’t say anything , minou. He just sat there in his car in silence until we reached my house. I even waited a couple of minutes before getting out. I said bye to him and he didn’t respond. I ran inside feeling horrible. I… feel as if I’ve ruined not only my chances of being with him but also our friendship, which I have cherished for the last four years. All because I drank too much. I’m so stupid.” She looked down and moved away from him. Sniffling some more, she stared out at the twinkling lights of the City of Love .

“That’s funny,” he said bitterly. When he said that, she gasped and looked at him shocked.

“What do you find funny, Chat Noir?”

He stretched his arms behind him and leaned back, allowing his gaze to get lost admiring the beautiful full moon that towered in the dark sky. “Today I went to a birthday party organised for one of my friends. We drank a little too much and it had become very late, so I offered one of my friends a lift. God forbid that she walked home as tipsy as she was and someone took advantage of her. She’s too dear to my heart to allow it to happen.”

“Oh,” she said, “o-okay?”

“I was driving her home. Well, my driver was; I was sitting with her in the back.” His hand reached for the nape of his neck and his gaze darted down. “She was telling me how grateful she was that I gave her a lift and suddenly, she told me that she loved me. A-and I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.”

She gasped at his words. His gaze darted to her briefly, and the intensity in her eyes made him sweat. She stared at him as if her life depended on his next sentence.

“And…?” she pressed.

Was it getting hot here, or was it only him? He dared another peek at her face; she was still looking at him intensely. “And… nothing. The car stopped in front of her place. I waited until she had gone inside before asking the driver to go. When I got home, I had to transform and get out because I didn’t understand what was going on with my feelings.”

“Why?” she asked in a choked whisper.

He could hardly breathe. “Be-because I was confused. I’d never thought she liked me. She always acted as if I was intimidating her. When we met, we started off on the wrong foot. So I really thought that she hated me, and probably only put up with me because of our friends.” Ladybug gasped loudly and looked up at him, her eyes as big as saucers. “I couldn’t believe that a person as amazing as her would think anything at all of one as insignificant as me.”

He turned around and looked straight into her eyes. “She was my first friend. I didn’t want to ruin that friendship. I messed up badly enough with my first girlfriend, being so indecisive and never letting myself go, until she got fed up and told me she had found someone else. I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with her too, because—” His mouth went dry; he gulped awkwardly and licked his lips.

“Because?” He could hear the breathlessness in her tone. He could see how hopeful her gaze was as it met his, how tense her back was as it straightened. He internally screamed. God, he couldn't believe it. This woman loved him. For real!

“Be-because she was important to me. I didn’t want to lose her.” He grabbed her hand, a tinge of pink dusting her cheeks as he locked his gaze to hers. “The truth is that I love her. I’ve loved her all along. Only, I was too blind to see it. I’m such a fool, Marinette .”

The sound of her gasp resounded in the silence of the night like a slap in the face.

“The girl who didn’t like my jokes, the one I told you about the day we were coming back from the wax museum. That girl was you .” He gulped seeing the tears staining her cheeks once again. She stared straight through to his soul in silence, crying quietly for a time that felt endless. Why wasn’t she talking?

“We’re idiots,” she eventually said, the shadow of a smile curling the corner of her lips.

“No, Buginette. I’m the only idiot I can see.”

The smile that had been curling her lips widened. “Silly chaton. There’s an even bigger idiot sitting right in front of you.” She took a big breath, exhaling slowly. “Be-because the boy I rejected you for the day we fought Glaciator—”

“Yes?” His ears perked up and he couldn’t help but lean towards her.

“Th-that b-boy… was… Adrien Agreste .” She looked up from behind her eyelashes, a deep blush dusting her cheeks when she saw the massive grin that spread on his lips. “I-I’ve loved you from the day you gave me your umbrella. I tried so hard to let go of you, b-but I’ve never been able to.”

His eyes widened as his mouth opened in a small o. “Y-you mean my first day at school?

She nodded, her red cheeks almost glowing in the darkness. He gawked at her beautifully flushed face for a long time, admiring how her porcelain skin shone bright in the pale light of the full moon. The stain of her tears like crystal reflecting the moonlit night. He looked at her for so long that her redness changed to pallor and her eyebrows furrowed into a frown.

“What’s wrong, minou?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He gulped and closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath as he reminded himself to breathe. “I’m so happy.”

She smiled softly seeing the way his lip trembled. “C-can I kiss you?” she asked.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes sprang open; he smirked, and his tone turned teasing as he tried to hide his shock. “I always thought I was going to be the one to ask you .”

The soft smile never left her lips; she inched closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, taking in the soft shaking under her touch. Her hands held his neck by the nape, pulling him in until there were only millimeters between them. They could feel the tickling of each other’s breath on their lips, both hesitating to close the gap.

“And tell me, minou.” Her nose brushed his, his heart clawing against his chest as her whispered words caused wild fluttering in his stomach. “What answer did you expect me to give you?”

His senses were overwhelmed with the scent of hot chocolate and sugary treats in her breath, with only the smallest tinge of alcohol.

He was still pondering on an answer when their lips met, and any residue of coherent thought dissolved from his mind. He would think about what to say later. Right now he was finally kissing the girl he loved.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.

Fin

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Author’s Note:

Hi! I know, I know, I will end up with not one. Not two. But THREE updates today. I’m definitely spoiling you, don’t expect this every week (I would die LOL). But I had written this story a little while back prior to my submission for the New Beginning zine (they were asking for a piece of less than 2000 words and i had never written one before, so I had to see if I could write something that short before committing to a submission!). Unfortunately I wasn’t selected, which means that you get this story now and not in January 2022, are you happy? ^-^

Hope you’ll like it. Again, a bit different from what I’ve ever written, but more my style than the Visiting Hours one. Please let me know your thoughts! Any kind of comment (or kudos, favs, follows, bookmark… anything) is very welcome.

Last but not least, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks . See you there soon!

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signed-yours-truly-the-whale · 3 years

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Thoughts/Observations on Joker, part 1

AKA I Spent 7 Hours on This, I Will Die if it Gets Less Than Three Notes

I could rave for hours about this movie’s cinematography. Literal hours.

Nobody talks enough about Arthur’s full-fledged dedication to his clown craft. Man is working 60+ hours a week and does not break a sweat. I also fucking love this clowny face he pulls here. The first shot we see of Arthur in full. Holy shit is it beautiful. God bless Joaquin Phoenix.

These two shots together are incredibly important to me. In a split-second we see Arthur’s disbelief that he cannot control the whirlwind of emotions inside of his own head, not even being able to produce a smile, and then his resignation because it’s just another day. Heartbreaking.

Awwww shiiiiit

Gotham City is such a dump but I’d be bullshitting myself if I said I didn’t love the grimy aesthetic of it. It’s technicolor trash.

Arthur loves his job so much. He genuinely enjoys being Carnival. That hurts a lot to think about in hindsight.

This man just got his ass handed to him and he is STILL SPRAYING THE FAKE FLOWER ON HIS VEST

YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT DEDICATION

This opening card is so imposing. Not only does it take up the entire screen to the point of running off the edges, but it’s shielding Arthur from view. Arthur is invisible in light of Joker in Arthur’s own movie.

I screenshotted this by accident but I felt a need to put it here because he’s just so adorable. Even right before an episode.

E y e s s s s s

E Y E S S S S S

I desperately want to know what got Arthur sent to Arkham the first time. A suicide attempt? A public breakdown? I really want fanfics of it.

There’s a really, really good fanfiction on AO3 by Arthur_Fleck about Arthur slowly recovering and meeting a girl called In the Major and Minor Arcana

I highly, highly recommend it

Okay. Joaquin’s immersion into his characters -- all of them -- is absolutely incredible. But Arthur is just ... off the charts, man. No two of his characters are the same and he embeds himself so deeply in their skin, but Joaquin buried himself so deeply into Arthur’s brain that it is so hard for me to see any of Joaquin at all. God, he’s incredible and this shot makes me emotional because this just is Arthur.

ARTHUR WOULD BE A GREAT DAD AND I DO NOT ACCEPT ARGUMENTS

It really speaks to how shitty Gotham is that this man is having a full-fledged screaming/laughing breakdown on the bus and nobody is batting an eye

I adore how the cinematography paints Arthur as so small to his own environment. He’s a speck of dust. A fleck.

Babie is wincing :((((

I have been trying to figure out the layout of this apartment for months and my inability to, even with a floor plan, is driving me insane

I just found out that the Budweiser beer jingle Here Comes the King is on the soundtrack and plays when Arthur comes home and that made me go feral

I A M M U R R A Y , K I N G O F A S S H O L E S

It is second nature for me to do this stupid pose every time I watch this scene

Arthur blending into the crowd here makes me ... so happy. He looks so happy.

This is Arthur’s best laugh of the movie, fuck you. I am incredulous that I was the only person laughing when I saw this in the theater opening night.

This is one of the few moments I really see Joaquin shine through Arthur. I don’t know why, but this lighting and his voice and his intensity gives me visceral flashbacks to watching a little boy Joaquin in Parenthood. God, I love this man.

It really is a testament to Penny’s (lack of) parenting that Arthur is day dreaming about receiving affection and validation from a parent figure when his own mother is literally right there

GOD DAMN THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

But also big bruise :(

Yes, I shall trust you, man named Randall smiling down at me in low angle light

Why was Hoyt not informed that Arthur got his ass beat on the job? As Arthur’s employer he should’ve literally been the first person to know so he could make a note of it. Either he wasn’t told or he gave so little of a fuck that his consciousness astral projected to another plane of existence while he shoved the white powder down his throat and forgot Arthur existed at all.

Literally fuck Hoyt. I hate him even more that his office is the coolest shit in the world

ARTHUR KNOWS THE CUSTOMER SERVICE SMILE

Joaquin dislocated his knee in this scene, the poor boy

I could write a full damn essay about why the misleading advertising of Sophie as a prominent character was the greatest twist of the whole movie. Literally I am still speechless how the movie did that.

I am not kidding when I say my sister has this same color scheme in the bathroom of our house and realizing that made me werewolf

Also Arthur being the son Penny doesn’t deserve warms and breaks my heart

The complete lack of reaction to Penny’s “Don’t you have to be funny to be a comedian” makes me laugh and cry internally

This shot? Gorgeous. His face? Deadly. That jawline? Cutting diamonds. Hotel? Trivago.

I really, really want a Joker 2, but at the same time I do not want a Joker 2 because Joaquin Phoenix has a baby who needs him now and he cannot be pulling shit like losing 52 lbs for a role

Also I REALLY need to discuss how much this brass ballet reminds me so heavily of Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. Holy fuck, I got actually chills in the theater

Like holy fuck

And then this shot reminds me so heavily of the opening of Fedddy vs Jason with Freddy Krueger laughing over his newspaper collage of missing children. Holy fuck I love this cinematography.

Guys. G - Guys, his name tag says Dr. Carnival, can you hear me s o b b i n g

This part is so Chaplinesque, the way he slides the gun into his coat again

These children look so afraid of him for dropping the gun and wowie, does that really hurt

Was this asshole supposed to be modeled after Eric Trump? Because I get really douchebaggy Eric Trump vibes (minus the jacked teeth) from this ringleader

I don’t have much to say here except I am in love with the way Artie’s hair sticks straight up in bottle curls when the clown wig slides off

Also if you decide it’s a good idea to mess with a man dressed as a clown laughing maniacally on the subway of one of the most dangerous cities in the world, you are asking him to shoot you and I will not feel sorry for you

I will never not be in love with this image. I fell in love with it in the teaser trailer and almost went feral in the middle of the mall when I saw this was the poster they used to advertise the movie with. My friend described this movie as “chaos, beautified,” and nothing sums it up as well as this picture.

JOAQUIN AND TODD MADE THIS ENTIRE SEQUENCE UP AND I AM IN LOVE

Hello, handsome

#joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #joaquin phoenix

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mariocki · 3 years

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RIP Daria Nicolodi (19.6.1950 – 26.11.2020)

"I grew up in a house that was like a library or a museum. I feel I refined Dario's taste very much. I went with him to many art exhibitions. [...] I feel I guided Dario to something outside the scope of just cinema, towards art, music, theatre, and other things."

"For me, I did not want to be a star; I just wanted to act well."

A true icon of the silver screen, and one of the most significant figures in Italian genre cinema of the 20th Century. Daria was born in Florence, in 1950, into a talented family of intellectuals and artists: her father was a lawyer, her mother an academic; her maternal grandfather was Alfredo Casella, a composer and conductor who counted Stravinsky, Mahler and Strauss among his friends.

Daria moved to Rome while still a teen, and by 1970 she was beginning to find work on stage and screen. Elio Petri was quick to spot her talent, guiding her through her first theatrical roles, and ultimately casting her as the female lead in La proprietà non è più un furto (Property Is No Longer a Theft, 1973), a highly political satire about wealth and class in modern Italy. The following year, she attended auditions for Profondo Rosso (Deep Red), where she met director Dario Argento. Until this point, she had mostly played attractive blondes and love interests; Argento could see that she was capable of more nuance, and had her cut her long hair and dye it red, adopt a more masculine style of dress, and bring her wry sense of humour to the character of Gianna. In return, Daria adopted some of the director's mannerisms and habits for her character, particularly in her physical movements and hand gestures. The two worked well together, on screen and off; they soon became romantically involved, and in 1975 Daria gave birth to a daughter, Asia Argento (her second, having previously had a child with sculptor Mario Ceroli).

Daria and Dario would remain together for the next ten years. In the process she became not only his partner, but his closest collaborator, and in many ways his muse. Before Asia was born, the two took a holiday in northern Europe, travelling around France, Germany and Switzerland. The trip reminded Daria of her grandmother - another artist, the French pianist Yvonne Müller Loeb Casella - who had a keen interest in the supernatural, and thrilled the young Nicolodi with tales of her time at an academy on the Swiss/German border, where the faculty had all practised black magic. Those stories would form the basic outline of Argento's next film, Suspiria (1977). The couple developed the idea between them, and worked together on the script, incorporating everything from fairy tales to Nicolodi's dreams. In later years, Argento would downplay the contribution made by Daria to the finished script, but her influence - and in turn, the way Suspiria would influence the entire horror genre, and develop Argento's work - is undeniable. Her fight for official recognition - and a screen credit as co-writer - left the actor exhausted.

Daria had also intended to act in the film, but was prevented by injury. She returned for Inferno (1980), the spiritual sequel to Suspiria, and once again contributed behind the cameras: the original concept was Nicolodi's, and she worked on the script with Dario. Unwilling to fight him again, her writing work went uncredited this time. With their professional relationship strained, Nicolodi would only agree to a small supporting role in Argento's next film, Tenebre (Tenebrae, 1982). However, when the American actor who had been cast as the female lead dropped out just before the start of shooting, Daria once again found herself starring in an Argento horror film. The shoot was not a happy one; as Daria bonded with her onscreen love interest, Anthony Franciosa, over a shared passion for theatre, Argento became jealous and difficult. The atmosphere on set deteriorated to such a point that, when directed to give a short, sharp scream for the final shot of the film (her final day of shooting), Daria instead unleashed a long, deafening howl of terror. What she described as her "cathartic release from the whole nightmare" would become one of the most iconic moments in the film.

By the time they were making Phenomena (Creepers, 1985), the relationship between Nicolodi and Argento was beginning to fail. They would separate that year, and although she initially did not express any interest in working for the director again, she was tempted back for Opera (1987) by an elaborate death scene. Outside of her work with Dario, Nicolodi had built up a modest but significant filmography with other big names in Italian genre cinema. For the great Mario Bava, she starred in his final film, Shock (1977); for his son, Lamberto, she took a supporting role in Le foto di Gioia (Delirium, 1987). Michele Soavi, a protégé of her former partner, cast her in La Setta (The Sect, 1991), but mainly she would concentrate on the stage from this point on, describing theatre as her first love. The tragic death of her elder daughter, Anna, in 1994, only kept her further away from the limelight. It was the burgeoning career of younger daughter Asia, both as actor and director, that would tempt her back in front of the cameras.

Although she made comparatively few films, Daria's impact on Italian horror cinema has been huge. What's most fascinating is how deeply individual and unique each of her performances were. It's tempting, in looking at her work with Dario Argento, to perhaps project a potential pattern in her different roles, that aligns with how he may have viewed their relationship. In Profondo Rosso, shot whilst they were still getting to know one another, she is self-contained, confident, attractive and capable. By Inferno, when their relationship was well established and they had a child together, her character is much more vulnerable, an innocent caught up in something terrible and in need of protection. In Tenebre, one of Argento's most accomplished films, she has her weakest part - she was unhappy with the role, which is notably underwritten compared to the characters around her, and in which her main purpose seems to be to react to the events unfolding. As their relationship faltered on the set of Phenomena, she took her ugliest role of all - a dark distortion of obsessive motherhood. Perhaps it might seem like a disservice to her, to make these comparisons, but it is also true that Daria was an incredibly obliging actor - always at pains to give her director (Argento or otherwise) exactly what she thought they needed, whether requested or not. Petri had told her she reminded him of a figure from his past, so she consciously exaggerated those mannerisms to please him; Argento originally struck her as egocentric, so she mirrored his stance and his gestures. A consummate professional, I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibilities that by Phenomena she was channeling their dysfunctional relationship and distorted self images into one of the most intense and disturbing performances of her career.

I would have first seen Daria in Profondo Rosso, more than a decade ago now. It remains one of my favourite films, and her performance in it quite simply one of my favourite performances ever given by an actor. Gianna is such a complete and unique creation, unlike not only any female character in Italian cinema at that point, but quite unlike any character in a horror film. Profondo Rosso is a giallo film, perhaps the finest giallo film - it is a bloody, terrifying slasher film in which horrific violence is visited on the undeserving. And as Gianna, Daria spends the entire film incredibly, almost deliriously happy. She grins, she poses, she spins her cigarellos between her fingers. She teases David Hemmings, pricks at his ego, challenges him to arm wrestling contests. She drives a broken down car, tricks her way into crime scenes, and takes photographs of witnesses even when strictly forbidden to. She is among the most likeable, endearing, and thoroughly real protagonists to ever appear in what is essentially a fantasy film. She is so very human that she grounds what should be a totally absurd concept, and in the process provides exactly what it is that makes that film work so well - and it did work, the film was a huge critical and commercial success, and revitalised Argento's career after an early 70s slump.

There are two cuts of Profondo Rosso, and I know there is a school of thought that the shorter, international cut (which removes much of Nicolodi's work, trimming all the more jovial and character-building scenes) is the superior one - that it makes for a sharper, more suspenseful thriller. I absolutely disagree. To cut the relationship scenes is to take out the heart and soul of the film: Hemmings is the purported lead, but his character is detached, emotionally stunted. The heart of the film is in Nicolodi - in her sharp suits and twinkling eye, in her laughter and her fear - and the only reason the suspense works at all is because the audience has a reason to care, someone to care about. Profondo Rosso was the first time I saw an Italian film not as a garish thrill, but as something much deeper, more profound. It was perhaps the first time I realised that a horror film could also be art. I fell in love with Italian cinema, with gialli, and with Daria Nicolodi.

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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

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Beach Waves and Happiness

a little self-indulgent something i was hoarding in my documents and decided to share. maybe or maybe not bc i felt bad bc of all the angst i was posting. i hope you all enjoy it :)

A/N: In my mind, I imagine that Bakugo and his spouse would certainly have a bumpy marriage. I headcanon that his spouse is as headstrong as he is, if not stronger. They need to be in order to handle all that is Bakugo Katsuki lmao. But they grow with each day and are their strongest together. He’s also matured by then, so it’ll always work out in the end.

A little context. You and Katsuki have been married for a couple of years and have kids. Koji and Eva. Twins. Not much else to say but enjoy this sweet, sugary, domestic fic.

Warnings: Mentions of intimacy, cursing

Beach Waves and Happiness (Bakugo X Reader)

When the twins were old enough to walk and (mostly) potty-trained, that’s when you started taking trips. You were so excited to spend time as a family apart from dinner and bath time. Katsuki was excited to see you in a swimsuit again.

And family time as well!

Their first international trip was to Hawaii. Your husband had been a couple times and thought it would be a good and family-friendly vacation spot. You grew up on the beach so being on the island was perfect for you. Katsuki saw how you flourished under the sun, with the salty wind tousling your braids and the white sand on your feet. As you took your children to the waves, smiling like the sun as they squealed from the water, he felt heart swell with pride.

He never wanted to take for granted what he had been given.

“It tickles!” Eva, the eldest twin, giggled.

Koji was a bit hesitant to touch the water but gained confidence when he felt his sister grab his hand. When the waves began to roll in, they screamed with excitement and ran the other way. They continued their game of chase whiles their mother watched them with a smile.

Feeling eyes on yourself, you caught your husband’s adoring gaze and goofily posed. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” you joked.

And moment ruined. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he walked by your side. Katsuki placed his hand on your waist, inviting you to lean on his shoulder. You two stood there for a moment, letting the sound of your children’s laughter and waves settle between them.

“Don’t you wish we could just stay here forever?” you suddenly said.

“All the time, but money doesn’t grow on trees. You actually have to work for stuff.”

“Imagine that.” You raised your head catching Katsuki’s eyes. He hummed for your thoughts. “Nothing. Just kind of taking in everything. I feel at peace. More than I have in a long time.”

It was meant to be happy words, but it made the blonde hero deflate just a bit. A thought had been gnawing at his heart for a while and he found he could no longer hold in his question.

“[Y/N], are you happy?”

That got you to pause. You turned to hold his waist with your arms. “The short answer is yes, but what do you mean?” you said, eyeing how contemplative he looked.

Katsuki felt himself absent-mindedly play with your hair as he stared where the sand met the waves. He was never good with his words but damn it. He needed to know. Even if it could hurt him.

“It’s just…I know being with me isn’t the easiest.”

“Katsuki, if this is about our fight, I told you—”

“No. I mean yes, but not entirely. Let me just get this out.” You sighed but nodded. “When I asked you to move in with me, I half expected you to say no. But you did. And I know being thousands of miles away from your friends and family is shitty. Especially in Japan where you might feel alone. I mean, I know you made friends with Deku, Cheeks, Pinky, and all those idiots but it’s different. It’s not your home. But you never complain. You always adjust. Even after we got married and had children, and you felt like you were suffocating under all the responsibility when I was being a shit ass husband and father, you never said anything until you were at your breaking point.”

It pained him to remember how he didn’t know you were going through postpartum depression until it got so bad, he’d wake up to find you sobbing in the living room by yourself. Or when your mother called him five months into the marriage and nearly cussed him dead for her daughter feeling like she couldn’t even tell him she was going through a hard time. Sternly reminding him that you dropped everything to move to Japan for his career. That’s when she accidentally slipped that you were pregnant.

He was still young at the time and in the midst of a stressful time in his career. When he confronted you about it, he admitted he did more yelling than he should have. You took your ring off and he felt his heartbreak for the first time. You said you’d stay at a hotel, but he begged you to stay in the house and he left for his parent’s house. It was a tough week. One of the toughest weeks in your relationship. However, you preserved. As always.

Although, Katsuki still saw how exhausted you were. Even when he gave more than 100%, you were still tired, and he had a feeling it wasn’t physical exhaustion.

Your husband tucked a braid behind your ear and the look he gave you made your chest pinch. “I just don’t want you to get to your breaking point with me and before I can help it, lose you and the twins,” he said, voice barely above the sound of the sea.

There was only a small amount of times you’d see him so open about his feelings. Sometimes you’d admit you didn’t handle it well. Thus, the fights. You and your husband weren’t good at expressing your emotions properly and learning to do so was a journey. However, you always appreciated his willingness to grow—whether it was before or after the matter.

“Baby,” you cooed, softly kissing the corner of his lips. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’d have to be the coldest, most heartless, bitch on the planet to keep you away from Eva and Koji. No matter what happens to us, you’re still their father. A good one at that, and I would never separate you three. Besides, my mom and yours would hang me before I could.”

He chuckled. He knew you were only half-joking. Your parents were alike in more ways than one. It was kind of scary, but good for family gatherings.

“And, if I’m going to be honest, it was really hard at first. Sometimes, I thought I made the wrong decision, but then you’d come home, and we’d spend hours talking and every day I was reminded why I did it. The way your eyes would light up every time you’d talk about work made my heart flutter. Then you’d turn around, look at me, and tell me how being at your side made everything better. When I couldn’t tell you how useless I felt, you’d just know and make me feel on top of the world. When I’m hard on myself, you’re there to bully the insecurities out. I see the little things you do like buy more tampons and pads, without me having to ask, when I run low, wash the dishes as soon as you come home because you know I hate doing them, or turn the fan off in the middle of the night when I shiver, even when you’re hot.

We butt heads. We fight for sure. And we kind of suck ass at dealing with our feelings. But not for one moment did I stop loving you any less. Maybe I didn’t like you all the time,” she snickered and Katsuki snorted. “But I loved you. I love you. And I know you love me all the same.”

Katsuki didn’t know why he had been blessed, especially since he wasn’t the best person in his past. However, he never questioned it. He just cherished.

With no other way to properly express his gratitude, he pulled you closer and he pressed a heart-stopping kiss to your lips. You moaned, gripping his bicep, as he tilted your head, one hand under your chin and the other on the small of your back. Katsuki pulled back, your bottom lip between his teeth, to gaze at you in a way that warmed your body.

“Till death do us part, huh?” he smiled.

“You’re kinda stuck with me even after that.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Who knew you could be so corny?” you chuckled.

A hand came down on your ass and you gasped, laughing at his antics. “Don’t ruin the moment, dumbass.”

You continued your kissing, smirking between them. “You’re lucky you have a big dic—”

A tug at your skirt brought you two out of your…conversation.

It was Koji.

“Momma! We build castle!” he cheerfully smiled. Then he dropped his smile in 0.3 seconds and frowned at his father. “N’ you! Daddy no eat momma. We talk about dis.”

You snickered behind your hands as Katsuki’s eye twitched. Your son was at the age where he was forming an Oedipus complex. He and Katsuki had a thirty-minute conversation about him trying to “eat you” and “killing you” at night. It was endearing for you and annoying for him.

“Fine, you little brat. We’re watching your dumb castle,” he grumbled.

“You dumb!” Eva retaliated for her brother. Koji hmphed in agreement before running back to his sister.

You were openly cracking up and Katsuki was steaming.

“I’m glad you find this funny, jerk,” he mumbled.

“Hilarious actually.”

There was a moment of comforting silence.

“What was that about my big—”

“Koji! Your daddy’s tryna kill me again!”

“What the—? No I’m not!”

“DADDY!”

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #mha scenarios #mha fanfiction #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #katsuki x black!reader #mha domestic #katsuki domestic #he's domestic af #mha children #one-shot

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miraculousandbts · 3 years

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BTS | AMAs

P.S. The story is in y/n's perspective. Just because I wanted to.

Summary: You get your first big nomination, but you just had to stumble into a very handsome stranger.

Pairing: OT7 X Reader (Platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Reader’s train of thought goes crazy every once in a while. I feel like this should be a warning.

I was hugging my manager and jumping in circles with her, as a way of expressing my happiness. Ashley was not only my manager, but also one of my closest friends, always supporting me and believing in me since the start. Both of us were ecstatic with the news, and this was our way of showing it. Aside from jumping, we both were also screaming very loudly. I had never been so thankful for having a house near the forest area without neighbours.

Oh, wait! I never introduced myself; how rude of me. (Yes, I was thinking about the Thea Stilton books...) I'm y/n, a singer and songwriter. I live in LA. Me and Ash were just watching the American Music Awards nominations, and we just couldn't control our excitement when they took my name. This was my first nomination for an award. It wouldn't be that big of a deal for an experienced artist or someone who has been in the industry for long, but I'm still a rookie, debuting only two years ago.

Me and Ashley finally calmed down when a very startled guard came in and told us that we screamed so loud that he saw bats fly away from deep inside the forest. We sheepishly apologised, and decided to go to sleep. I had been recording a song the whole day, while she had been busy with manager duties, so we both were exhausted. I had actually known her for the last four years, and she often stayed over. So often, in fact, that my guest room had become 'Ashley's Room' very quickly.

After bidding each other happy good nights, we both went to bed in our respective rooms, falling asleep speedily.

*****

Taylor was applying my makeup, while I sat in the stiff makeup chair. This had been going on for the past hour, despite me telling her that I wanted light makeup and a simple dress. Instead, she and my stylist Ben decided to go against my wishes for once. Ben had prepared an extravagant dress too fancy even for a royal ball, and I was thankful it wasn't pink or blue or yellow; I absolutely did not want to look like a princess, that just wouldn't be me. Taylor kept on applying a little too much makeup on my face for my liking. She was very talented, so at least I was sure I wouldn't look bad.

Right now, she was working on my eye makeup, expertly putting on eyeliner and...something. I'm not good with this stuff. Taylor's assistant, whose name I always forgot, was painting my nails. I looked at her working. She was a pro at this. She smoothly glided the brush over my nails, effortlessly painting them purple, and then decorating them. She used as less materials as possible, knowing I hated it when even my nails felt heavy; my face was enough.

After two more hours of torture, I was finally ready. I looked breathtaking, but if I had an option, I would still go with something lighter. After another hour of sitting in the limo, we were finally there.

I got out, and there were cameras in my face. All I saw were purple blotches, because the camera men couldn't use their brains enough to shut off the flash. Or maybe those cameras didn't have an option to shut off the flash.

Anyway, I struck a few poses, blew some kisses, and walked ahead. And then I saw Dan. He was a reporter for such gigs, and I often did short interviews with him. He wasn't like the others; he didn't ask about rumours or made new ones, he didn't ask controversial questions to increase their channel's TRP.

I gave him a grin and walked towards him.

"Hey, Dan."

"Y/n! Looking beautiful as always."

"Oh, you flatter me." I kept a hand on my chest.

"Okay, stop with the over dramatics, girlie." You grinned.

He motioned his cameraman to start recording. I tuned out the whole introduction, and focused when he asked me a question, the said question being how was I feeling about being here even though it hadn't been long since my debut. "It's all thanks to my fans. I love making music, and I believe that if you do something with true passion, you will be successful. I guess this is destiny's way of showing me that what I'm doing is right. And not gonna lie, it feels like I've been feeling like I'm on a sugar rush since the nominees were announced, because of the adrenaline."

After some more questions and smiles, I finally went in.

I was too focused on not tripping on my own feet because of the long dress, so the first thing I did after entering was bump into someone. Great! I wasn't even surprised anymore, knowing how I was. "I am so sorry!" I looked up with wide eyes, only to meet kind brown ones. It took me a second to register that he wasn't alone, six other men behind him. They seemed familiar. I could tell they were from east Asia. I glanced at all of them, and then looked at him, apologising again.

"It is okay." He had a cute accent to his English, and I internally smiled, not only because of his accent, but also because he wasn't mad. I must've smiled in relief, because he looked amused. Now that I was looking at him properly, he was handsome, with a capital H. Little round face, pretty eyes, cute boop-able nose. And then he smiled. And then I died. It was the cutest smile I had ever seen!

Thankfully, I wasn't the kind of gal who would stand there checking him out. All of this took me a second, and I excused myself after thanking him.

*****

"Oh, hey!" I heard a smooth deep voice as soon as I sat down. I looked to my side and found one of the friends of the man I had bumped into earlier. I was right, my brain didn't forget. I smiled a small smile. "Hey."

Extending my hand towards him the old fashioned way, introduced myself. "Y/n."

He shook my hand, seemingly unfazed by my apparent childish behaviour. "Kim Namjoon, more commonly known as RM."

That's when it clicked. RM. K-Pop. BTS. My eyes must've widened; I was always terrible at hiding my emotions. "Everything okay?" He brought me out of my stupor. "Uh, yeah. Just, when I stumbled into one of you guys before, you all seemed familiar, I just couldn't place your faces anywhere." I replied honestly. "Oh." He simply leaned back into his chair and nodded.

"So, in which category are you nominated?" He continued.

"Top social artist. You?"

"Same. It'll be a four year streak for us if we win again."

"Ooh, really. Well then, I hope you win."

"Don't you want to win?"

"Coming here already feels like a dream. I don't think I can handle the adrenaline if I do win."

"So basically you want us to win for completely selfish purposes, huh?"

You both laughed at that remark, and continued making small talk for a while. Then he said he had to use the washroom. I hummed in his direction, and as soon as he got up, I saw the guy I had ran into in the chair next to his.

He had noticed Namjoon getting up too, so he was looking on my direction. He grinned at me, and sat in Namjoon's chair. "Hello."

"Hey."

"I am sorry. My English is not that good. Only Namjoon speaks English." He sheepishly rubbed his neck. "Why are you apologising for that?" I was genuinely curious. It was okay to not know perfect English. Even though I was a native English speaker, I still made mistakes. Everyone did. And the said language wasn't even his first language. "At the entrance, I wanted to talk."

"Oh. Well, You should have, I don't judge because of stuff like this." He smiled at that. "I will introduce you to them." He gestured to his band mates who were very engrossed in the show. Before he could do that, I interrupted him. "Hey, sorry. I haven't been in the industry for long, and I've only ever heard your guys' name, so...I only know RM and V? Is that right? So, yeah, I don't know your name."

I cursed at myself internally. Way, to go y/n! So damn awkward. He must've sensed my hesitation, because all he did was offer me his hand. Ooh, the old fashioned way. Good to know I wasn't the only one.

"Suga."

"Y/n." I shook his hand. Namjoon came back at that moment and him and Suga said something to each other in Korean. Wait, Suga? That does not sound right. Oh, right! It must be his stage name.

And then I facepalmed. Literally. I didn't think before my hand met my forehead. I must've made a pretty loud smack, because both of them were now looking at me like I was some weirdo. I sighed and slowly hid my face in my hands. "These kind of things always happen to me..." I mumbled.

I looked up when I heard them chuckling. I pouted, but I knew they could see the relief on my face that they didn't think of me like I was demented. "Don't worry, we've been living with these guys for the past eight years, these kind of things don't faze us anymore." Namjoon gestured to the other guys, who were still oblivious to their surroundings, absorbed in the performances.

I let out a breathy chuckle at the fact that they were so openly dissing their own friends. Namjoon, by now, was seated in the chair in which Suga was previously sitting in.

"So, I refuse to believe that Suga is your real name. And I would rather be literal friends with you guys, rather than two artists who just know each other."

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi." The way he said it reminded me of how Geronimo Stilton introduced himself. 'Why my brain has to go down completely random memory lanes is beyond me...and why am I thinking about a kid's book series?'

Within the next hour, I had been introduced to the other guys, and all of us were conversing about anything and everything. Seokjin was very happy that I was loving his dad jokes, Hoseok was a little too excited about my proposal of shooting a dance cover on one of mine or their songs, Jimin, Taehyung and me got along very well, as we were all the same age, and Jungkook had offered to teach me boxing, after I expressed my wish to learn it.

All in all, I was getting along very well with them. They were fun to be with, and it was absolutely adorable how they sometimes got flustered over their mistakes while talking. After the fun night ended, I congratulated them on their win, and went home, completely exhausted.

*****

"Noona!" Jungkook was the first to notice me. With wide eyes and a happy grin, he came to hug me. I had decided to surprise the boys by coming to Korea. Right now, I was standing in their dance studio. Even after four years, we were still going strong. It felt like now I had four elder brothers, two twins, and a kid. '...that was a terrible reference...god, please tell me what is wrong with me.'

Soon, all the boys came to hug me, though I tried running away to avoid their sweaty hugs, but Jungkook held me at one place, while I tried to squirm away. I should've just waited in their dorm.

"Kookie!" All I got in reply was a mischievous giggle. He really was a baby. Later that day, a collaboration between us was confirmed, and I couldn't have been happier.

Geronimo Stilton and Thea Stilton might be kids’ books, but they’re still the best!! Change my mind, I dare you.

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coke-and-candy · 5 years

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Fashion Editorial Special: Audrey Bourgeois

Inspired by this post link by @purrincess-chat

Lila put herself out there in the public domain, and just because Marinette’s class and teachers might be stupid enough to fall for her lies, doesn’t mean that there aren’t adults out there who are...

The question was who? Who is critical and vicious enough to do so and has a HUGE audience to say things to, and who works closely with the modeling and fashion worlds and actually knows what they’re talking about...?

Why! Madame Audrey Bourgeois! The Queen of Fashion herself. So please put on your best Devil Wears Prada reading hats on and enjoy as Audrey takes no prisoners.

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

“Gabriel Agreste Losing His Mind and Sense of Taste”

By Audrey Bourgeois

Published: 9/15/20XX

It is no secret in the fashion world that since the mysterious disappearance of Emilie Agreste, famous Parisian actress, model, and wife of Gabriel Agreste—the man who had single handedly built the Gabriel brand from the ground up—the once envied designer had shut himself away from the world. Living the life of a recluse and refusing nearly any physical human interaction.

That is not to say that the man had lost his ability to design and to run his business, he just now does it all from the Agreste Manor in Paris, France. According to sources he now mostly conducts business meetings via videoconference calls and oversees the employees of this fashion empire via his ever-present and faithful assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur. It was not until a little over a year after the disappearance of his beloved wife that Gabriel Agreste, at last, decided to grace the world with his presence. Appearing, for the first time in public, at the Gabriel Spring Fashion Show, where his own teenage son and Paris heartthrob, Adrien Agreste (age 15), was walking the catwalk modeling one of the newest spring suits and featuring a stylish bowler hat, designed by a talented and young up-in-coming designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng (age 14).

Despite certain incidents that occurred on that day. Part of which was caused by the gross oversight Gabriel Agreste (a first sign to be sure). The show could still be considered a success and did showcase to the rest of the fashion world that Gabriel Agreste’s talent and designing abilities still reigned supreme and are still a force to be reckoned with, regardless of any personal issues he may be facing in private.

It seemed as if Gabriel was making small steps towards the acceptance in his single life.

Turns out this one moment of public interaction may have been the first cry for help.

His latest decisions in regards to just WHO represents his brand have been nothing but questionable and completely and ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

This past season Gabriel had introduced a new face to its teen fashion line. One Lila Rossi (age 15).

At first it seemed as if this was simply a pity shoot for one of Adrien Agreste’s little schoolmates, as they both attend the same school and are in the same class.

But, alas, this was tragically not the case.

Despite her clear lack of ascetic taste, especially when it came to her own hair. Really, someone should tell that poor child that hanging two sausages on both sides of her face not onlyfails to come across as ‘trendy’ but it sends an ENTIRELY different message.

I’m both surprised and appalled her mother would leave the house with that style.

I certainly would never allow my own child to been seen like that in public.

Unfortunately, that first shoot was only the beginning as Ms. Rossi has appeared alongside fellow model, Adrien, in three more shoots and a commercial that pathetically tries, and monumentally fails, in portraying them as a young couple in love.

I have worked in fashion long enough to be able to spot what works and what does NOT a merely a glance. But one does not even need to be an INTERN to recognize that the dynamics between Adrien Agreste and Lila Rossi is so utterly ridiculous to the point a shutter of nausea courses through one’s body.

While Adrien continues to hold his own in the modeling world, despite the large shadows that both his parents cast, he is able to shine on his own merit and truly does have the looks and talent to model and act (no doubt traits he inherited from his mother). The same cannot be said for Lila Rossi.

Lila Rossi’s whole look (if you can call it that) is simply not genuine. I have worked in this industry long enough to be able to tell the diamonds apart from the rhinestones. Lila Rossi may want for people to believe that she is a diamond, but she is, without a doubt a rhinestone. Cheap, easy to produce, and a one in a billion find. Oh, sure she may have charm and charisma to carry some solo stock picture photo shoots but in order to make it in the Fashion World one requires to have a certain light and spark that stands on its own.

To put it simply, this girl has no discernable personality. Her expressions are stagnant, as if she had to practice being human, her posing leads me to believe she is merely trying to look good for the camera instead of working to display the clothing and products in their best light, and she has close to no versatility in any of the photo-shoots she has done as all of her pictures can be simply described as her in different outfits but using the exact same four expressions over and over again.

When I say the same expressions, I mean—THE EXACT SAME.

The Sophia robot emotes more human emotion than Rossi.

It is Adrien who carries the shoots and is doing the lion shares of the work while Lila Rossi does her best to APPEAR like a model. To put it simply—she is NOT.

Her hair is just one issue, but it her overall presence that just scream ‘Fake’.

A picture is worth a thousand words, and unfortunately, there are many pictures to choose from.

In the very first photo-shoot that was done with Adrien as her co-model you can easily see the disparity between the two. While Ms. Rossi seems more than happy to be in a loving embrace by one of Paris’ most eligible young bachelors, the same cannot be said for the young Agreste heir. There is an obvious tension in his body language that does not show in any of his other photo-shoots, including ones where he and another model were portraying romantic feelings for those ads. The untrained eye can see the slight curve of his spine, as if he wishes to get away but can’t, the small tension in his smile that screams, “I don’t want to be here but I have a job to do”.

My final verdict to the latest photo-shoot from the Gabriel name, that once more featured Adrien Agreste and Liar Rossi, was that is was ridiculous, completely and utterly ridiculous!

Inside sources on location where the two teens have modeled have also confirmed that there does not seem to be any natural chemistry between them and that Adrien had picked up a habit of making himself scarce until he is needed. Other sources verify that Lila Rossi seems to cling to him as much as possible. Perhaps, in the hopes that someone will confirm her own pathetic delusions of the possibly budding relationship between the two of them?

And my does this girl have a number of delusions.

Not counting the one where she THINKS she can model.

According to several interviews that this girl has given to the sub-par tabloid blog, TheLadyblog, she claims to be the best friend of the Parisian super-heroine, Ladybug. Claims to have connections to multiple high-profile celebrities such as Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. Going as far as to claim that Jagged Stone even wrote a song about her. Lets ignore the legal implications of a man in his early thirties writing a song about a child for a second and continue examining more of said child’s claims.

According to another interview she gave on the same trashy blog, she claimed to be involved in multiple charitable organizations and causes, citing different projects that she has ‘supposedly’ helped with and oh so humbly placed most of the successes of those projects on her shoulders.

An official statement from Gabriel has stated that the girl has multiple health issues as well and is an inspiration on her abilities to overcome those obstacles in order to model and her other so-called various charitable actions. Very, well we won’t pry into a minor’s personal health.

Her public life, however, now that she is in the public domain is fair game.

It did not take even twenty minutes of searching to find absolutely NO validity to any of her claims.

Her claims of being a close personal friend of Ladybug: FALSE

- The timeline does not match her arrival to Paris with her family. Nor does allow for ample time to establish any sort of close friendship.

- Ladybug herself has the sense to never reveal anything about her personal life, but a little nobody is more than happy to broadcast their ‘supposed’ friendship on a blog that could once claim to be the best source for information on Paris’ two heroes? I think not.

- Eyewitnesses from when the girl was Akumatized into Chameleon and subsequently defeated on the Eiffel Tower stated that Lila Rossi seemed to hold animosity towards the red clad heroine.

- Ladybug has made no statements in knowing Lila Rossi and there has been no photo documentation of the two seen together, even though Ladybug can be seen almost daily swinging around and running along Paris’ rooftops with Chat Noir.

Her claims about Jagged Stone writing a song about her because she saved his kitten on airport runway: FALSE

- Jagged Stone has never owned a kitten according to his personal assistant, Penny Rolling, and his exclusive interview with La Mode three years ago that revealed that the only pet he ever had other than his current pet crocodile, Fang, was a dog as a child in the States.

- A quick Internet search also reveals that Jagged Stone and Lila Rossi have never even been in the same country together until four months ago. The rock star was still on tour in America while Ms. Rossi was in Paris, France. The date of the Ladybloginterview is time stamped long before then.

Her claims to helping inspire and help co-write Clara Nightingale’s last album: FALSE

- Countless interviews with the pop singer, and official statements upon the release of her album, Heart of Gold, will reveal that the inspiration for said album was her grandmother in her native home country of Brazil.

- This was also the first album that Clara had written completely on her own in order to establish her own unique flair.

- I personally reached out to Clara herself and confirmed that she has never, met or even HEARD of a Lila Rossi. Strange? One would think that such collaboration would ensure that one of the parties involved would at least remember the other’s name?

Her claims to travel with Prince Ali of the Kingdom of Achu for environmental charitable work: FALSE

- Again, a quick Internet search of the Prince’s official website and bio lists all of the organizations he is involved with. All of which focus primarily on children such as the International Coalition for Equal Opportunities, the World Health Organizations vaccinations drive, and the Refugee Children’s Fund to name a few.

- A quick call to the royal family’s publicity affairs office confirmed that Prince Ali had never been in contact with Lila Rossi and are now looking into the matter for themselves. After all, an unknown person cozying themselves up to the second in line to the throne is matter of GREAT interest to the Royal Head of Security.

Her other claims of travel to international destinations in the middle of the school year: FALSE

- According to the Italian Embassy’s official website Mademoiselle Maria Rossi had been stationed in Paris since her arrival almost a year ago and has not left the country, other than for a few short trips back to Italy to visit family members.

Her claims in having trained in gymnastics, ballet, and figure skating and even going so far as medal in gold in all three at major competitions in Italy: FALSE

- Again, a quick Internet search reveals all winners of the top twenty major competitions in Italy for the past fifteen years. Names, age, date, and location of the competitions are easily and readily available to the public. NOTHING about Lila Rossi winning gold in any sort of athletic competition.

Her claims of being invited to have tea with her Royal Majesty, the Queen of England: FALSE

- Any and all of the Queen o England’s engagements are public records as well as very well documented. Surprise, surprise there is NOTHING about a Lila Rossi mentioned in any credible new source, or even a single tabloid blurb. The only thing to sustain such a claim is the word a child who actually believes that her jacket looks good in light of day.

Honestly, I could go on and on and even be able to write a whole book. This girl has told so many tall tales she makes elected officials seem honest.

So let this be clear to the world of Fashion.

Lila Rossi is nothing more than a liar.

A liar who had only as gotten as far as she did because she was lucky enough to find someone with a decent online following that was both gullible and stupid enough to post those interviews online without ever once providing additional sources to verify them or double checking those claims. It was not that difficult disclaim every single one of those interviews.

I timed myself and it did not even take me my lunch break to do so.

The very fact that this girl is supposed to be the lead female teen face of Gabriel makes me question Gabriel Agreste’s sanity. Does he honestly think that having Rossi represent his brand is the smartest thing to do?

There clearly must be something in the water in Paris if Gabriel Agreste had not even bother to run a simple background check on the girl in order to ensure that there were no skeletons in the closet that would haunt his brand. Turns out she did not have any, but she sure did purposely create them.

I have to congratulate Monsieur Agreste on this achievement though.

Never have I seen the credibility of a designer go from as set in stone, to as questionable as a ‘designer gown’ bought in a Sale-Mart so quickly. What other decisions is he making behind the scenes that will further clue us in to his mental decline. Will the next Gabriel Show feature plaid parachute pants with matching toucan bird print dress shirts?

Yes, it seems as though grief has finally come to claim another once brilliant designer if he is unable to see past the paper-thin façade that Lila Rossi believes will be able to get her through this world. All the signs are there in same hideous orange Rossi insists on wearing.

Clue number one should have been her clear lack of any substance, versatility, and talent after the first photo-shoot she appeared in. The transparent aversion his own son has shown towards a fellow classmate should have been clue number two. And finally, clue number three should have been that this girls climb to fame was all due to a tabloid blog, TheLadyblog, run by the amateur journalist of all amateurs journalists that could not even be bothered to check their sources.

Or Google for that matter…

Gabriel has been known to take certain risks in the past, but the decision to hire Lila Rossi is nothing more than a mistake.

For the sake of all of our ocular senses, both Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi are clearly in need of psychiatric help.

The sooner, the better.

-----

Yay, nay? What did you guys think of this little Fashion Editorial by the Queen of Fashion of the Miraculous universe. Any thoughts. This was just so much fun to write I am so doing a follow-up to this.

#Queen of Fashion #audrey bourgeois #ml spite fic #ml salt fic #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fic #lila rossi salt #lila rossi #Lila sucks #Fashion Editorial #miraculous fashion #Fashion Editorial Special: Audrey Bourgeois #Audrey is taking no prisoners #Gabriel Agreste #Gabriel Agreste spite fic #Gabriel Agreste salt

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

#yandere society #bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts x reader

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elenamegan14 · 4 years

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Twisted Wonderland: Headcanons for Dorm Haunted Houses Pt.4 - Savannaclaw

MASTERLIST

Part 3

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TW: Themes of Cannibalism and Gore in Haunted House.

THE ATTRACTION:

Savannaclaw’s haunted house is centered on the Elephant Graveyard’s theme. Only darker and gorier.

It’s a “Cannibal” Rave Party where the menu on the house is… YOU!

Guests entered a large gate out of a giant mammoth skeleton amongst the rocky hills. Green lights and fogs shrouded them everywhere. Graphic animal carcasses and skeletons littered on every single step that the guests took around their haunted house. Dark Tribal and Progressive House music echoes all across the hills.

As they climbed on top of the rocky hills, they saw a rave party being celebrated amongst the whooping Savannaclaw students, dancing amongst the strobe lights with a DJ on top of the hill. As they beckoned guests to come closer, they can see limbs, heads and organs splattered across the banquet table. Everyone is sporting a bloodied mouth, tribal tattoos and a nasty smirk as they tried to grab the guests by force. It was primal - many guests are quite spooked.

Ruggie is the second-in-command of all the ‘predators’ and the saboteur of the team. His role is to sabotage the participants during the obstacle course as well as instructing the ‘predators’ to hunt as many participants as they can. He was wearing a hyena-themed like rave tribal outfit along with a mask made out of antelope skull. He accessorized himself with pieces of teeth and bones.

After going through the mini haunted house, participants and guests were then escorted to the start lines where they were given each towel and water bottles to refresh themselves.

It may not look like it, but Leona did put a bit of an effort to the dorm’s haunted house, only because it’s a chance for him to unleash his beastly side upon the poor guests and first-years.

Their dorm’s haunted house is the most athletic one out of the dorms. Think of the Zombie Run or The Walking Dead Obstacle Course marathons, only this one has hungry predators chasing the hell after you.

Of course, guests who are willing to be a little sporty tonight are allowed to participate in this interactive obstacle course, but while they went on a normal route, the students who took on the charm challenge are instead given a more difficult course.

They’re selling the usual merchandise: t-shirts, flags, water bottles, and sports bands are quite popular but the most fast-selling items are their unique necklaces. And pictures of Leona. Rook and Vil hunted him down to pose per Ruggie’s request. The Crafts Club took this as a chance to show off their skills at making tribal accessories and keychains.

Leona’s costume evoked a sense of raw power - ripped off tribal-like punk-like leather with his black tribal tattoos and makeup. His teeth are bleached with red dye, to make it seem that he already ate up his ‘preys’ before and his stomach had room for seconds.

Strangely, most of the female guests are willing to be captured by ‘Leona’ when they have to go through the ‘Predator’s Cove’, perhaps it was their strange kinks but who he is to deny when he plays along as their ‘king’.

Actually, most ‘predators’ who already got romantic partners took this as an opportunity to play ‘predator and prey’ kink to a whole new level. They were responsible for the massive loss of participants because the participants themselves were willing to be ‘captured’ by the ‘predators’ to be ‘eaten’. Get it? -winks-

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THE MISSION:

Their mission for this haunted dorm is the same as the guests - they enter an obstacle course marathon challenge where they have to evade, survive and go through all the traps on this challenge. They will encounter ‘hungry predators’ along the way, so they have to make sure that the predators won’t mark them by smearing ‘blood’ on their shirt.

They were warned that the predators would also ‘bite’ as well, which is a NO-NO in MC’s group case.

Of course, the host is also considerate to tell that, since this is an athletic event, they have to carry a water bottle at all times to rehydrate themselves. Epel and Jack already brought more than ten bottles to reserve their stamina, and share it along with everyone on the team.

And of course, they were allowed to use their MagicPens to blast some magic limited only to this event to ward off the Savannahclaw “predators”.

...well, they can try. Those ‘predators’ are fast as heck.

MC’s group and the poor students run like the wind when the predators are unleashed. Only 55% of the participants remained.

ANGRY RAVE MUSIC PLAYS ON THE BACKGROUND.

Did I mention this is also an obstacle course as well?

They got sticky floors, nets to go through, falling boulders, hidden pits, climbing the cliffs, tightropes, and...

“WHOSE IDEA IS IT TO PUT A CIRCUS FIRE RING IN THE OBSTACLE?! This is so randomly dangerous!” Ace yelled while putting out the fire on his butt. In Jack’s defense, he has no idea that they’re going to use HIS suggestion.

Epel went through the obstacles smoothly, even down to kicking a few Savannaclaw students.

Ruggie got Grimm by his arms and he prepared to mark the poor flying feline, but Grimm being Grimm, decided to bite Ruggie’s hand instead. He dropped Grimm with a yowl, nursing his hand as he watched Grimm with vengeance on his eyes.

But MC? Poor MC might be slow or their stamina is not as strong as the others, so they’re having quite difficulty in keeping up with the others. While they’re not looking, one student jerk enough to cheat tripped MC’s feet, causing the charm they got from Heartsyabul’s challenge to fly out.

THAT DAMN STUDENT GOT THE CHARM.

MC watched helplessly as his other friend held you back, laughing as they held the charm to defend themselves against the attacking Savannaclaw ‘predators’ as they left you at the mercy of the ‘predators’.

Luckily, Grimm and Deuce came to your rescue by hauling your butt up as they blasted the predators back from ‘harming’ you.

Ruggie’s sabotage team went nuts. They’re a hindrance to the students, like making them slipped on oil floor and banana peels, Ruggie using his magic to redirect some students to the wrong courses (or walls if he was feeling sadistic), putting low-level mines on their path that explodes (students blasting off like Team Rocket), trapping legs on bear-trap-like clamps and caused some students to get zapped by some electronic shocks to buy time for the predators to catch up to them.

Ace saw a familiar glint of the charm on one of the students. One look at it and he gets the gist of what happened. Ace gave that poor student a karma by tricking him to look down ("Hey! Your fly is open!”), causing that said student to panic out of embaressment and run into a wall of sticky web. Ace saunters back with a whistle, stealing the charm back and gleefully as that student is pounced by Ruggie and the ‘predators’.

In the end, almost everyone made it. Still, no one complained and is happy that they’re still in one piece.

Their last obstacle mission is quite simple: inside the den of predators, there’s a charm tucked right next to Leona. The students must creep amongst the sleeping predators WITHOUT waking them up.

That sleeping part is Leona’s idea.

Easy huh? Do you think that’s easy? It turns out that Savannaclaw had set up traps that guaranteed to make the poor students scream out of their wits. Five students found out the hard way when they stepped on a klaxon, got toy spiders rained down on them, and gas released on the nape of their necks.

Finally, they decided to use a straw lot to determine which student should go down like a man to retrieve the charm.

Spoiler alert: MC got it. Their group protested.

BUT THEY DECIDED TO TAKE IT FOR THE SAKE OF FREEDOM. Touching tears were shed.

Grimm decided to follow MC to make up for abandoning them in the first place - he will be the one who warned MC about possible traps. As they went in, they did not realize Ace was biting his nails and Jack gripped a boulder so hard that it cracked from the intense suspense.

MC tried their best to endure everything - the cool jelly floating down their face, the spiders, the gas and even tickling feathers. They were screaming internally.

When they finally reached the location, they found out that Leona is hiding the charm inside the jar that he holds.

MC tries to lull him into a deep slumber by singing ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’. It actually works. No seriously.

MC’s group also secretly joins it from outside. They make a good acapella.

In the middle of the song, Leona unconsciously grabbed a hold of MC and put them on a tight hold hug as if MC is a dakimakura. Still, MC is got the guts to finish the song and escaped from Leona’s hold, holding the jar carefully on their chest.

It all went well until Grimm and Ruggie happened.

...hey, yeah. Remember the Emperor’s New Groove? The part where Kuzco pisses off a squirrel so the cute squirrel decided to get even with Kuzco by tricking him to wake the entire jaguars using balloons? Well, Grimm’s the Kuzco and Ruggie, being the little shit, IS the squirrel. Guess what happened next.

“ROAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!!!”

“THAT DAMN RACCOON HAD WOKEN UP THE PREDATORS! RUN, YOU ASSHOLES!”

They all run. MC seems to run the fastest. The students had no chance against the speed, power, and agility of the Savannaclaw students - they got “eaten” one by one. Most of them are Leona’s victims.

“AAAAAAAAHHH! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” One of the students screamed as he tried to shoot Leona several times using his MagiPen, but failed due to Leona’s unbelievable speed. He got his “throat” ripped out.

While they were running, another student body checks MC so hard that they lose their charm, prompting that students to roughly grab it before they do.

“Thanks for the charm, loser!” That was his last words before Ruggie pounced on him from above, Epel hurriedly grabbed the charm before anyone could steal it back. When another student tried to fight Epel for it, he was rewarded with a serious eye poke from Epel, followed by a knuckle sandwich from Deuce that escalated into an actual scuffle. IT WAS WILD.

Meanwhile, MC, is seriously cornered down by Leona who took this opportunity while they were down. “Nowhere to run, herbivore.” Leona gave MC a frightful smirk as he leaned down towards their doom. So MC was left with no choice but to do… THIS.

They got down on one knee and reluctantly cringed as they said these words: “Please, Leona-senpai! I’m just a small, insignificant herbivore who wants to live! Therefore… Leona Kingscholar, will you do the honor of… -gulps- MARRYING ME?”

The shock that came from the participants and the ‘predators’ is enough to momentarily stop the chaos.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHH???!!!” Jack, Ace, Deuce, Epel, and Grimm simultaneously yelled.

Leona just stood there dumbfounded.

MC took the opportunity to book it before Leona could realize what’s going on. Once he does, he shrugged… AND CHASE THEM LIKE HELL.

They barely made it to the exit gate. Leona snapped at them, but he couldn't do anything as the survivors celebrated their victory along with the other participants that escaped from the predators.

MC apologized to Leona about the proposal. They were just scared at that time - any rationality that they had at time flew out when Leona almost got them, Leona-senpai is truly terrifying out there. Leona ate up the complement and seemingly forgives MC...

...but not before he licked MC’s neck as a warning. MC is left flushed - please do NOT do this, senpai!

Some girls wanted Leona to lick them too. XD

The rest of MC’s group watched blank-faced. Jack had to slide you away from Leona’s gaze - there are people watching sir, please be reasonable. GOSH.

They were tired, their breaths almost depleted, but they enjoyed it. It was fantastic - they feel reinvigorated, Savannaclaw may put their participants at risk, but it was the best fun they ever had. After resting for quite a while, they went on to their next dorm.

The scent of the sea and motor oil greets them in the first place. It’s time to enter the den of Octinanivelle’s haunted dorm...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Part 5

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misfit-among-the-angels · 3 years

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Adventures in Prague

Word count:6105 Genre: Smut, but with like plot and romantic stuff. Pairing: Tobias Sammet x Reader Warnings: Smut Summary: Reader is a photographer for Avantasia and also Tobi's gf and the band has a concert and then a day off in Prague. And there are some adventures and fun stuff to be had.

You also can find this on Archive of our own.

A/N:I think that this fanfic is like my come back to writing fanfics lol. It took me like 3 months to write it and it's really different from the other ones I've written. This one was proofread by my friend ♥♥ P.S. I've never played Fifa so if it's incorrect I'm so sorry.

Another night, another concert. Usually it’s like that, but not this time. This time we’re anticipating an off day in the beautiful city of Prague. Just one more concert night.

I don’t dare whine even a tad bit to Tobi because I know that his job is harder and is more tiring than mine, but I can’t help showing how excited I am that we’ll have an off day exactly in this city.

My camera’s battery is fully charged and ready, lenses that I’ll need are unpacked, and I am ready for another three and a half hours of work. Tonight, Tobi seems to be in an extra good mood, probably because he loves performing in Czech Republic so much. I know that my job is to capture the best moments of the concert, but I can’t help smiling when Tobi or one of the other guys tells a joke. I mainly stay by the stage, but a few times I go to the backstage to rest a bit or to capture some moments from a different perspective. I don’t forget the fans either. I know, I’m mainly a band photographer, but capturing emotions of the fans is a good thing as well. Tobi seems to have upped his posing game for this show, or maybe it’s just me. I haven’t had more intimate moments with him for a while. Kissing or hugging doesn’t count. But enough whining. Every time Tobi spots me or comes to one side of the stage where I am and starts his silly poses, I can’t help but feel a bit hot. I smile as I take pictures. A few times he lets his tongue out for a picture, and I hear some fans screaming louder. Yes, fans do love that. Of course, I also take pictures of the other Avantasia guys. They pose less, but that’s okay for me. It makes my job more interesting.

Finally, the show is almost over. I go up on stage and take pictures of the band and the fans. Then my job for today is over, and I can go back to the hotel. Sometimes I hang around the backstage to take more pictures, but today I am done. All I want is a hot shower and bed. And Tobi of course, ehehe. I get to the hotel first. It’s a public secret between the band that I am with Tobi, so of course we share a room. I take all my clothes off except for my underwear, then turn on my laptop and let all my pictures be transferred to it. Then I jump in the shower.

Later, Tobi comes in and finds me all comfortable in bed with my laptop, quickly editing pictures. We smile at each other. I can see that he is tired. He surely gave his all tonight, and I’m not surprised that he goes for the shower straight away. After a good thirty minutes he comes out and flops beside me on the bed. I look at him and suddenly I get this strong craving. I think I know where it came from. I also know that he won't fall asleep right away, no matter how tired he is. Adrenaline from the show hasn't worn off just yet. So I put down my laptop and get closer to him. He finally opens his eyes and looks at me. “Want cuddles?”

“Always.” I giggle a bit. “But first, let me take care of you. Let me do something that will make you feel good.”

I see him wanting to protest and quickly put my finger on his lips. “I know, it's not what you think it is, and like I said, please, let me take care of you. You won't need to do anything. Just lie here, relax, and enjoy.”

He knows me, and he knows my sex drive, which can be high, and, sadly, when he is touring he is usually too tired to have some intimate time, even if we are in a hotel. Of course, his sex drive acts up too, but he can ignore it. I, on the other hand, really struggle with that, and sometimes I have to take care of it myself if I'm not fast asleep. It's kinda frustrating, but tour life is tour life - he warned me about this. Probably that's why the other guys leave their significant others at home. Of course, Tobi could have decided to choose someone else as a band photographer, but I guess his emotions got the better of him, and he chose me. And I was glad to be included into this happy family on the road. I don’t wait for his response, but I know that even though he is tired, he is also curious about what I'll do. I straddle him and start kissing his face. Nose, cheeks, forehead, and finally his lips. He giggles and smiles at the kisses. I let myself kiss him for some time. I always love kissing him, and lucky for me he loves kissing just as much. I break the kiss, then kiss down his jaw to his neck. I give his neck so many kisses until I am down to his shoulders. Then I move to his chest and keep slowly moving downwards. He sighs and makes some quiet noises. I feel his relaxed heartbeat and smile against his skin. I feel myself getting aroused even though I didn't do anything yet. I smell the shower gel, but also his natural scent comes through it, and it makes my head spin. So I have to remind myself that it's all about him. I move down to his stomach and feel his stomach muscles flex at my kisses. He has a towel around his hips, and I take it away and continue to kiss his body even lower. I kiss his thighs, then stop and just run my hands down his body. I look up, and from his face I can see that he is relaxed and content. I briefly wonder what he is thinking about. Probably me. I slightly smirk. I was soft, but now the urge to make him moan and come is taking over. I’m not taking my eyes off his face as I lightly run my fingers up and down his cock. I know he wasn’t expecting this, and his surprise is clear on his face. Without any pressure, I rub his tip with my thumb a bit. He makes a sound. I stroke him more, but after a few minutes I can’t help myself and lean down, taking his tip into my mouth and just sucking on it as my hand slowly strokes him.

“Oh, yesss!” he moans lightly and smiles. I keep my eyes on him, and his sexy reaction makes me smile internally as well. I swirl my tongue all around and listen to his sounds. This is one of the most effective ways to make him hard pretty quickly. And it seems it’s working magic. That’s the advantage I can take because I know that he hasn’t been sexually active for a few weeks. So he’ll be desperate to come, and oh, if it would be a different situation, I’d tease him long and hard. But now, I got him almost all hard already. His hips twitch a bit and I know it’s time for something he always loves so much. I take my hand away and slowly take him all in and as deep as I can.

“Ohhh, fuckkk..,” he moans louder and I feel goosebumps appearing on my skin. He looks so sexy like this – mouth a bit open, his head leaning back on the pillow. I moan too. When I’m sure I have him all the way I stop a bit, letting myself drool a bit too. I feel one of his hands tangling in my hair. Oh, this is perfect! I slowly move my head back up, creating this slow rhythm. Now he moans more often, though not as loud. I think he keeps in mind that we are in a hotel and the walls are thin. I close my eyes, not noticing him actually opening his eyes and looking at me. I hear him murmur something in German, probably some endearments or so. I smile internally at that. I moan a couple of times too, both to create some nice vibrations for him and, of course, because I enjoy this just as much as he is.

After some time, I move my head faster and now he tugs my hair more. I hollow my cheeks and hum a bit to give him the best experience and oh, that pays off wonderfully. “Oh, you are such a good girl,” he praises me and caresses my hair. I really can't help but moan. He knows how much I like being called that. I feel his hand that’s in my hair shiver a bit, and I can tell that he won't last long. I slow down again and every time I move my head up, I run my tongue over his tip and then slowly take him deep. I open my eyes to look at him, and he is biting his arm to not be so loud. But I can still hear noises and moans, and I wish I could hear them all normally. But of course we don't want any weird looks or complaints. One of these times when I take him deep, I feel his hand pushing down on me, then I hear him moan wordlessly and feel him coming down my throat. I swallow it all. After a few seconds, I feel his body and hand relax, and I slowly take him out. I look at him. He is breathing hard and has a happy smile on his face.

“That was amazing,” he says, sounding sleepy.

I smile. “I told ya. I just wanted to take care of you, and I'm glad you enjoyed it so much”. I kinda wonder if I should bring up that I'm hella aroused now. But seeing him so sleepy looking, I just can't bring that up. He needs to rest, and I can always get off on my own or just wait for tomorrow. I crawl up to him, give him a little peck on his lips, and get both of us under the covers. We cuddle up, and unsurprisingly Tobi falls asleep after about five minutes. I feel his relaxed body close to me and his arms around me, and I smile. The ache between my legs is almost unbearable, but soon I feel tired too. I force myself to calm down, and soon I follow him into the dream realm.

It's an off day, and we are definitely catching up on sleep, but just a bit. I had an alarm set from yesterday and it goes off at 10am. I wake up immediately to turn it off and yawn. I hear sleepy noises from Tobi and smile. I hate mornings, and even though we had a really nice and long sleep, I could still use some more hours of sleep. “Morning, lovebird.” I hear his sleepy voice in my ear and giggle. Then I turn around to see his totally cute face.

“Morrrrrrrning,” I intentionally roll my r's and giggle more. He hugs me close to him and kisses me. Looks like someone's in a good and loving mood. I wonder why… I kiss him back and run my hands on him. This really wakes me up and my body as well. Oh, how I wish I could have some intimacy now, but that impossible. In thirty minutes we’ll have breakfast, and then who knows what we'll think of. I feel his hand playing with my hair, and I smile between kisses. After we satisfy our kiss needs, I just smush my face into his chest and hug him more. He giggles and starts drawing patterns on my back with his fingers. I feel goosebumps on my skin and shiver a bit. By now he knows me and my body so well that he can tell what I crave and want. After a few minutes though he pokes my side which makes me twitch a bit.

“I know what you want, but we have breakfast to attend to, and we don’t wanna be late”.

I look up at him and pout, but he gives me a kiss on my cheek as a silent apology. I sigh and disentangle from him. As he is getting up, I can’t help myself and give his ass a slap. He giggles and shows me his tongue. I giggle too. We are happy because we love each other and because we can be silly. I stretch and then get up too.

On band off days I usually get an off day too. Sometimes I go and take some pictures of the other guys, and sometimes I just go explore by myself if Tobi feels too tired or wants to hang out with others. This time though I’m spending it with Tobi. After breakfast, we decide to have a walk. I promised to take him to a few cool places, and I also agreed that we won’t take too long because he wants to rest at the hotel and play some video games. I am more than okay with this because I love video games as well.

Of course, I’m bringing my camera with us. It’s such a good opportunity to take some pictures of the city. And of Tobi, too.

It’s a nice and warm spring day, and we find ourselves in the city centre.

“Can we keep away from the main streets and go somewhere with fewer people? I don’t really want to meet any fans, you know”.

“Oh, sure,” I smile to him. “I know this little nice pub that we have to visit, and then I want to take you to another really cool place”. I take my phone out to see where we actually are and how we can get to where I want us to be. We walk away from the centre, and Tobi seems happy and looks around when we turn onto a small unknown street. I point out interesting houses or pretty architecture. A few times we stop because I see something cool and want to take a picture, and then we stop some more because Tobi wants me to photograph him near this house or that one. It’s nice like this. A few times he insists on taking a selfie or two with me. We don’t really talk too much, but that’s okay because I'm taking in the vibe of the city. As for him, I think his coffee still hasn’t kicked in. I look at him and can't help but smile. My heart is full of joy and love and happiness. So I "secretly" take some pictures of him when he isn't looking my way. I want to freeze this moment so I can always look at these pictures and remember how I was feeling, and of course to show him how lovely he looks when he isn't posing for the picture.

My knowledge of the city and the ability to orient myself in it finally lets us arrive at the cute little pub. I stop and wait until he comes to me and says “well then, show me around. You know this place better than I do”.

I smile and lead him into the pub. Inside there isn't much room to sit. We greet the bartender, and then I lead Tobi out to this nice backyard where there are more tables to sit at. We choose one that's closest to us and sit down. “This place is also a hotel. I've stayed here once. It's a nice, quiet place”.

Tobi looks around. I see him opening his mouth to say something, but then the waitress comes to us and gives us a menu. We both love Czech beer, so we choose the same one, and as a snack we get ourselves some nachos. As we wait for our food and beer, we both get on our phones, not because we don't enjoy each other's company, but because it's the first time today we both get to check on things. Soon our beer arrives followed by the nachos, and we dig in.

“You know, after this tour is over, we need to come back here for vacation,” I’m taking the last pieces of nachos. “I understand that you might want to be at home and get some rest, but I’m sure a week spent here won’t hurt”.

Tobi takes a few sips of his beer. “I guess you are right. I like it here. I like the atmosphere and the feeling this city has”. I smile when he talks and drink my beer.

We talk more about things that we’re gonna do after the tour ends. I’ve been planning to move to live with him, so we talk about that as well. Talking about all things except our jobs is good.

We finish our beers and pay for everything. “Now where to? Our hotel?” Tobi asks.

“Nah, I wanna show you this amazing church and the park outside of it, and I just want to spend some time there with you.”

“Church you say, huh? Is this a hint about you wanting to marry me?” he grins.

I can’t help but giggle. “Well, maybe it is” — I show him my tongue — “but you know, you have to propose to me first.” As an answer he just wiggles his eyebrows. Being silly like this is the best.

After a good half hour we reach one of many bridges. As we are crossing it, I point to my right. “See, that’s the church I was talking about. It looks badass.”

He looks that way, and I can tell he likes what he sees. “It looks a bit sinister, but I like it!”

I smile and sneak my over hand to his and take it. At first, I can tell he is hesitant, but then he takes my hand too and oh, I’m sooo happy. He loves holding hands, but usually does it when we are in private or somewhere without many people, and on tour it’s just a no-no. But it seems he gave in this time, maybe because nobody is really paying attention to us. I love holding hands and this thing of his kinda makes me sad, but I understand him.

We cross the bridge and choose to walk on the quay. So peaceful, so nice. A few times I have to take my hand away because I want to take some pictures of the Vltava river. A few other times I ask him to sit down and take some great shots of him. Once I sit beside him, and after I take the pictures, I just can’t help myself and kiss him. He’s surprised but pleased. I don’t know why, but after that kiss I giggle and blush and feel more in love with him than ever.

Finally, we reach the hill and the church on top of it. I speak. “Ready? It’s not gonna be so hard because it’s not so hot”.

He gives me a nod, and we start climbing up. It’s a nice place, some sort of park, and as we’re going up the noises of the city slowly go away. We see some park benches, and I take a mental note to sit here when we’re going back.

We are at the top, looking at this beautiful church. I kinda wanna go inside as I’ve never been inside it, but then we hear some sounds from the inside and decide to just look around. I take some pictures and then point to the cemetery next to the church. “This cemetery is really pretty. C’mon, let’s look around”.

But Tobi shakes his head and says “maybe next time. If we can’t go inside that church, then let’s go back”. I pout a little but say nothing and follow him downhill. As we are halfway, I spot a bench and run to it and sit. “Come here! It’s a nice place to chill!”

I really picked a good spot because the city panorama is before our eyes as we sit. I place my head on his shoulder and say nothing, just enjoying this little moment. Tobi looks at me and smiles. We both look at the beautiful city before our eyes for some time, and then I take one of his hands and start playing with his fingers. Eventually he leans his head on mine.

“You know, I’m so glad to have you in my life, and I know I say this a lot to you, but really, you mean so much to me, and I can honestly imagine being with you for all of eternity…” I’m almost whispering, but I know he hears me perfectly. “I know that sometimes you struggle with voicing out your feelings, but you make me happy, and you always make me find more reasons to be in love with you even more. Even if it’s your stupid jokes or random noises or anything else.”

I pause for a bit because, damn, I’m feeling a bit emotional, but I know that he is smiling and he is listening, so I sigh and continue, “I know that maybe it’s a bit too early to talk about marriage, but let me just tell you that when we’ll be ready for that I’ll gladly say yes to you.” This is actually important because he knows that I don’t really like marriage, but if I’m saying this it means that he and me together is a big thing. He moves, and now we are looking at each other. I can see in his eyes that he is looking for the right words to voice out things he wants to say, but his eyes also tell me a lot.

He takes my hands in his. “I’m so happy to be reassured that this, us, is serious, and I’m also happy that somehow I changed your views on marriage. You make me happy, and I love you with my whole heart.” Then he leans in, and we kiss. And we kiss for a long time until we are both out of breath, and still our lips search out the way to kiss each other again. Moments like these are always my favourite. It doesn’t need words. We both feel the same, and we make it feel either through kissing or when we make love. It’s something I only discovered when I met him. Magical stuff. We kiss again, but it’s a shorter kiss this time. As we break away, we giggle as we both feel the same. We go back to the hotel holding hands all the way. I think this was the first time Tobi didn’t care if anyone might see.

Back in our hotel room, I change into more comfortable clothes while Tobi sets up the game. Of course it’s Fifa, his favourite game. I sit on the bed near him and take my controller.

He picks the team first and of course he picks Bayern. I poke him. “Hey, ladies first, you know.”

He looks at me with a grin. “Oops, I forgot that. But hey, it’s your turn now.”

I show him my tongue and pick Manchester United. I’m not as good at this game as he is, but I’ve beaten him a few times before, and now I’ll do the same.

“I’m tempted to let you win this time and you know why.”

“That would be soooo boring, but I’m sure I’ll beat you anyway.” I put on a confident look on my face. Tobi giggles, and the game starts, and his focus and mine are on it.

I’m not particularly competitive at the moment, but Tobi seems to be really into it even though it’s not even five minutes past when we started. He swears in German when the character he is playing fails to get the ball, and I can’t help but giggle. My focus shifts onto him, and I just admire how cute he looks when he is so into the game. I’m not even noticing that I’m basically just looking at him, so when he suddenly shouts “YES!” I jump a bit and look at the screen. He got the first goal.

Tobi looks at me. “Why didn’t you try to stop me? You could’ve tried at least.”

“Sorry, I got distracted a bit.”

“Distracted? By what? OH!” he looks at me again but with a grin now. “You got distracted by me, didn’t you?”

I roll my eyes a bit and blush but don’t say anything. The game progresses, and I get my first goal too. Bit by bit, my focus on the game is back. Soon I’m into the game just like Tobi is.

Three minutes left of this match, and we are both shouting at our characters, aaaaand “YESSSS!” I shout as my team gets another goal and wins the match.

I put down the controller and poke him. “Told ya that I’ll win.”

Tobi pouts for a second, but then he puts his controller down as well and launches at me and tackles me down on the bed. I wasn’t ready for this, so I only made a surprised sound as I found myself being down on the bed with him on top of me. He giggles and grins. “I might not be able to win that game this time, but I know another game which I’ll definitely win!”

I have no time to think what he has in mind because he starts to tickle me, going right for my weakest place, which is my sides. I laugh and squirm and wiggle. Trying my best to get out of it but failing. I grab one of his hands and try to take it away, but he is of course stronger than me. He takes my hand instead and pins it to the bed. I whine and squirm more. We look at each other as we know that we both have one free arm. I’m quicker and pull him into a kiss. Tobi is surprised maybe for a second, but then he relaxes and releases my hand as he kisses me back. I hug him immediately. This kiss is different from the last one though. This one is more passionate and communicates my need without me having to use words. But it seems he isn’t getting the hint because his hands just go to my hair. Usually when he understands what I want, he does something, like his hands starting to wander. I break the kiss, and I roll us to the side so now I’m on top of him. I know I wouldn’t be able to do this in any other situation, but now he is all relaxed and so easy to move. He looks at me with surprise and opens his mouth to say something, but I lean down and kiss him again. He immediately hugs me and just lets me do what I want. Soon, I break this kiss to kiss down his jaw and his neck. I ABSOLUTELY love giving his neck attention, and he loves it just as much. I kiss his neck all slowly and hear him sigh and make quiet noises. I smile against him. But how can I leave his neck without some marks? His neck looks wonderful with my marks. So I bite his neck in a few places, making sure to make pretty marks. He moans at the biting. His moans are such a big turn on that I can’t help but whine as I feel myself getting more and more aroused.

“I need you so much right now, my love,” I manage to say between all my whining and biting.

His response is his hands, moving them to the hem of my shirt. I get what he wants to do, so I straighten up and let him take it. My bra goes next. Then both his hands go to my breasts, massaging them and pinching the nipples. My whole body shivers and I can’t help but make noises. I try to grind but realize that we both still have our pants on, and I whine. He gets why I’m whining and fiddles with my pants’ buttons, and then his hands are back on my breasts. I smile at him and run my hands under his shirt, slightly scratching him when he pinches my nipples. But he gets the hint, and soon his hands leave my body to take off his shirt. I roll off of him and wrestle off my pants but leave my panties on. Then it’s time for his pants to go, and I help him with that. Finally, I straddle him once again. I am so turned on that I can’t help but shiver. I start grinding on him, and we both moan at the same time. I lean over to kiss him as I move my hands to his hair. I feel his hands moving to my ass and squeezing it and pushing it down on him. We go on like this for a bit, exchanging kisses and little moans and breaths.

“Fuck, I really need you inside me,” I whisper against his lips. I feel him shiver at my words.

“Yes, yes! I want it too.” His voice changes when he is aroused. It gets sexier. I smile and straighten up and move a bit lower and slide his underwear lower too. He takes his cock and holds it for me. I pull my panties to the side and sink down on him. We both moan loudly at this. We both needed it so much. When he is all the way in, I keep still for a minute enjoying how perfect he feels. He is doing the same.

“You are so beautiful, so hot when you are like this,” I hear Tobi say and then feel his hands on my hips, moving to my belly and then back up until he cups my breasts again. I smile so big. I’d blush, but my cheeks are already red.

I finally open my eyes and look at him with a smile. “You look hot and pretty like this too.” I find his hands and hold them as I start to move up and down. His hips thrust too, helping me. I look him in the eyes as we both create this slow pace. I moan a few times feeling how I’m falling into this realm where only this pleasure and the look in his eyes exist. He makes noises and moans too, and they are oh so delicious. Eventually we let go of each other’s hands, and mine rests on his chest, both as support and because I like feeling his skin and heartbeat. He moves his hands all over me, not really resting them anywhere for too long, and I love that. I move a tad bit faster and my head falls back a bit as I breathe out a moan.

“I wanna make you come so bad!” he says as one of his hands is already moving downwards.

“Oh, yes! Please…” I look at him, but then moan when his fingers touch my clit and start to slowly rub it. I close my eyes again. I’m noisier now, and with his fingers rubbing at me I can feel it coming faster.

“Oh, Tobi…” That’s all I manage as I feel it coming. He still keeps rubbing slowly, and I’m moving at the same pace too. The orgasm starts washing over me, and I arch my back and don’t hold back any moans or noises that escape my mouth. I stop moving too and just shiver. I slowly start to relax, and my hips twitch, and he finally stops rubbing me. I make quieter noises now and slowly open my eyes. I’m realizing that my nails dig a bit into his chest, so he’ll have some nail marks too. Finally, my eyes make the way up to his face, and I’m greeted with a smile.

“You were so beautiful. And so hot that you almost made me come too!” Our eyes meet, and we both know that this isn’t the end.

I smile and lean down and kiss him. The kiss communicates all the words I wanted to say. After a bit, he slowly moves his hips in small thrusts. I’m still sensitive and break the kiss to moan lightly, and I just rest my forehead on his. I feel his hands going up and down my back and sometimes squeezing my ass. He moans a lot more now, and I feel that he wants to go faster, but he is being gentle for me.

“I love you so much, Tobi,” I whisper and caress his hair.

He smiles big, and I feel his hands going around me in a hug. “Love you so much too. You feel so perfect. I missed this feeling…”

I kiss his lips briefly again and then settle for his neck. His hips snap faster and harder now, making me bite him and making him moan more.

“I am ready when you are ready”, I whisper in his ear and also buck my hips to match his thrusts. That makes him throw his head back more on the pillows.

“I’m close, my love”, he manages to say between all his noises and breathing. I raise my head to his, then bring my hand down between our bodies and start rubbing my clit again. Soon we are both moaning out each other’s names. I feel him squeezing me tight and coming in me which just makes me shiver more. Everything starts to wind down, and we both go limp. My head is in the crook of his neck, and his hands are loose but still around me. I don’t even care that I still have an arm in between us, and it’s not really comfortable. We both breathe heavily, and when he shivers feeling the afterglow, I shiver too.

I don’t know how long we stayed like this, but both of our senses start to come back to us and we almost simultaneously start giggling.

Tobi tries to speak first in between giggles. “I wonder if we’ll get away with how loud we were…” I bring my other arm back and then finally raise my head.

“Ah, who cares about that. This was AMAZING, and that’s all that matters.” I give him a giggly kiss.

After some more time, we finally disentangle. I still refuse to leave the bed so Tobi gets up first. I'm all satisfied and happy and even more happy seeing him strut around all naked. Finally he gets back from the bathroom.

"How and when did you manage to mark me up like this? Now I'll have to wear my scarfs even more," he pouts playfully.

I giggle before I can respond. "I'm not gonna be sorry for this. Your neck looks even prettier with all the marks. And besides, you wear your scarfs almost always anyway."

He only shows me his tongue, but doesn't say anything more. He knows I'm right, and secretly he likes that now his scarfs will hide a little secret of ours.

I use the bathroom too. We get dressed up and go to dinner with the other Avantasia guys. No one really questions why Tobi wears his scarf and no one says anything about what happened earlier. Either they don't know, or they know but don't say anything.

After the dinner, I leave Tobi hanging out with the guys, and I go back to the room as I feel really tired. This is the last day in Prague, so I pack my luggage. Before I go to bed, I look through the window at the lights of the city and daydream a bit. Suddenly I feel very familiar arms going around me, and I smile. Tobi's here. He hugs me from behind, and we stand like this for some time.

Back in bed and just before I fall asleep, I think about all that happened, and my heart once again fills up with love and joy. Then I cuddle up with him even more and fall asleep. Tomorrow we'll go back to Germany. The tour continues, but we both will remember Prague for a bit longer this time.

#fanfiction #smut fanfiction #fanfic #Tobias Sammet #Avantasia #smut fanfic #smutty smut #Tobiuas Sammet fanfiction #mine

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thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

Blood For Gold Part 5

Wooo lemon ahead. And backstory, SO MUCH BACKSTORY. And understanding. Again, many thanks to @kriskukko for indulging my regency era orc fantasy. Many thanks to @punkhorse96 for all your amazing feedback. It’s time for more of that zesty lemony good good. lol. Enjoy.

Blood For Gold

Part 5

But life had other plans. Demsey then found himself absolutely swamped with work. Between shipments arriving wrong or late and to make things worse, his nagging guilt concerning you seemed to eat away at him and what little sleep he did get was plagued by dreams of you, your face on Audra Draft’s body and losing himself completely in you.

It was the day before the ball at Havenfield and Demsey felt if he did not find some relief from these frustrations, he was going to internally combust.

Meanwhile your own life became a little hectic as well. Agnes and Jane came by nearly every day to deliver directions and advice- basically it was how to be a lady in high society lessons, made sure you could dance all the dances, make sure you minded your manners and made sure that it was practically drilled into you what was “acceptable” and what was “unacceptable” behavior. It was so much you wanted to just scream and by now, your staff knew to give you a proper feast right before bed after Jane and Agnes left so that at least you didn’t go to bed hungry but you had another hunger that could not be satisfied no matter how many times you tried to satisfy it yourself.

The day before the ball at Havenfeild, you managed to shirk Agnes and Jane and insisted that you needed the day to yourself so that you could prepare, and do an elaborate beauty treatment, which was a half truth. But the beauty treatment could be done within about an hour or two. Not necessarily all day but you didn’t want to admit that to them.

Instead you dressed in one of your more seductive dresses in the moura style instead of the regency, had Malcom take you back to The Red Velvet Rope, drop you off, take the carriage around the parks so that it appeared you were taking a tour of the parks instead of getting a good rutting and you were willing to spend at least fifty pounds if it meant you could have Draft all to yourself, for about an hour or so. You wanted to be made love to- in every way possible in every position you could think of and you wanted to actually feast on real food along with feasting on Mr. Draft too.

“Welcome back Lass, what will it be for you today?” Annie greeted with a grin as she readily handed you a gold mask which you eagerly put on.

“Is it possible to get Mr. Draft for say, an hour? And do you have any food you can serve up there? Because I’m hungering in more ways than one.” You asked hopefully.

“Oh of course Love, here’s a menu.” She offered as you took the menu and read it over, the English side of the menu left you leaving your nose crinkled until you turned it over and read the back and your eyes lit up and a smile bloomed on your face when you recognized an actual moura menu from almost every moura court back in the stables which you happily ordered off of.

“Then you’ll be needing a proper suite that has a table in it eat off of. You’ll need suite 23. I’ll be sending Draft up to you when he’s done with his current guest.” She assured you as you happily paid Annie for not just the suite and Draft, but dinner too.

“Thank you.” You practically sang as she unlatched the thick velvet rope and you practically ran up the stairs to your room on the second floor this time.

Meanwhile Demsey had also come into the gentlemen’s side of the building and strode right over to the second desk to see Maria there.

“Good evening Sir, what can I do for you?” She asked.

“I would like a rut with Audra again, if she’s available, perhaps for a little longer than last time.” He answered.

“Aye, Audrey is with a client at the moment, but she’ll be ready in just a little bit, if you’re wanting a longer time for her, might I suggest a proper suite then? Less likely you’ll be disturbed.” She offered.

“Perfect.” Demsey nodded.

“Room 24 then, on the second floor,” she informed him before Demsey paid for Audra and the suite before ascending the steps and once he got to the second floor and into the hallway, he caught sight of Audra practically marching down the hallway and his own smile bloomed brightly. “Oh please tell me you’re here to see me Demsey.” You purred as you outright strutted and sauntered your way up to him.

“Why else would I come? I couldn’t stay away.” Demsey grinned.

“Good, I hope you’re hungry, I have a feast ordered for us, a proper moura one too, and I hope you’ll eat it as well as you will me.” You purred as you took his hand and led him to room 23 as Demsey was powerless to resist and was liable to agree to anything, even his own birthrights the way Audra purred her desires at him, if she asked for his company in that tone, he would happily hand it over and the second the door was closed and the little ‘do not disturb, except for food’ pillows were hung on the door handle. You took off your coat to reveal one of the sexiest dresses you owned and it had Demsey’s jaw on the floor. He was used to seeing black lace, but not a dress made up of nothing of, beautifully sheer black lace where next to nothing was left up to the imagination and your gold moura marks on your skin underneath, glowing and pulsing, was utterly hypnotizing again.

“Do you like it?” You asked as you struck a pose for him before you twirled in place for him.

“Very much so,” Demsey readily agreed as his gaze devoured you first before his hands found their way to you and pulled you to himself so he could finally kiss you as your own hands made quick work of his clothes.

“So many clothes and layers to get through, you sure do make me work to get at you Demsey but by the gods are you ever worth it.” You praised and Demsey fought not to literally tear his actual clothes off because nothing that anyone had ever said to him made him feel more powerful or desired as he readily figured out how to undress you, surprised when it was just a simple dress with structure for your bosom but you were not wearing a thing under it and the way you were walking him towards the bed, pieces of his own attire being tossed aside the moment they were loosed from his frame until you had bared him completely as he kicked his own boots and trousers off as you laid back on the bed.

“Now, eat my cunny like it’s your last meal.” You ordered as you propped yourself up on your elbows with your legs open wide in invitation and Demsey didn’t need to be told twice. Granted he hadn’t really eaten a woman’s cunny...ever. But he was willing to try and willing to make a good go of it as he happily laid down on his stomach, with his head between your legs and tried to go to work and the way your thighs came to rest on his shoulders and the way your hands clawed into his hair and scalp and the way his name came off your lips like a dreamy sigh as he tried adding his fingers to the mix, to see if that would work also, had him feeling happy and relieved when that seemed to help and was what you wanted and needed from him.

You were practically writhing, moaning and keening desperately as your pelvis bucked and grinded in his face, needing more contact as you also guided him and his movements until he seemed to finally learn you and put it all together and found just the right touch, with the right pressure, the right movements, not too fast or too hard, the right suction on your nub and using his fingers to curl and press at something that felt like a soft..walnut shell on the inside of your canal and watched as your moura marks continued to pulse faster and brighter as you were pulling on his hair so tight, he almost feared you would scalp him but the taste of your cunny was addictive, slightly odd at first, but the more he “ate” the more hungry he became and the thirstier he got for your sweet nectar that flowed from it as he was surprised how quickly he acquired a taste for it and how much it fueled his own desire and especially to hear you say his name like it was your greatest desire and want, only spurned him onward as he ground his own erection that wept almost pitifully into the blankets on the bed as it seemed to want a piece of it too and when you finally came, your canal practically gushing into his mouth as he greedily sucked it down while your moura marks lit up and stayed alight while you rode out your orgasm on his face as your legs kicked out as your thighs squeezed his head so tight he felt dizzy, but he could die happy before your whole body laxed as the light in your gold moura marks faded.

“Wow.” You breathed as you fought to catch your breath as you basked in the afterglow as Demsey gave your cunny one last long lick before you pushed his forehead down and away.

“Easy, I’m over sensitive now.” You pleaded.

“Good?” Demsey asked as he licked his chops.

“Very good.” You praised as it had been literal years since the last time you were eaten so enthusiastically, you were at the stables still and having a friend’s brother do that for you from time to time just to keep you pleasant since oral sex was allowed between non married moura partners and it was a good way to keep moura brides satisfied while keeping them “pure” for their future husbands and it wasn’t unusual for a moura gentlemen to have several women he “serviced” in addition to his work, in fact there were special breaks for it during the work day. And since mouras had a unique gift in that they never got sick. In fact the only things to ever kill a moura before and after the plague was a broken heart and old age, they could even drink literal poison and it would act like alcohol to them. They were immune to every other disease and didn’t get any sexually transmitted disease and often laying with one could cure you if you already had one while they remained unharmed as long as feelings and attachments weren’t involved, you could theoretically give and receive as much oral and even anal sex as you wanted. In fact it was usually a skill most moura brides could pride themselves on in giving a good suck and often worked quite hard on suppressing their own gag reflex so they could please their future husbands well, which was made easier by a very stretchy throat, a bygone gift from the evolution of the species having a croup no matter their form, there was even a small airway that connected the nose straight to the lungs, like a glottis on a snake, so she could keep breathing while sucking off a cock, or even eating and it also meant the throat was simply extra stretchy, letting moura brides take a cock of just about any size deep into their throats to almost their stomachs, and also to accommodate a mate of any size or species, most moura womanly canals were super stretchy too to accommodate whatever she needed to and large wombs to carry babies of most sizes and their pelvis could unhinge like a snake’s jaw to give birth easier. There were even special muscles in a moura’s abdomen to help carry a child better and birth easier. There was even a class on how to be good in bed that was taught right before a bride would leave, although most of it, she could figure out herself well before then.

Demsey happily gathered you into his arms and was content to hold you while you recovered.

“Ok, your turn.” You decided after you recovered enough.

“My turn for what?” Demsey asked as you pushed him to lay back on the bed as his cock was still hard enough to drill through a wall of bricks as you simply giggled and settled yourself down and started to lick and sucked on the tip while giving him a hungry sultry look.

“Oh,” Demsey breathed as he suddenly realized what you were getting at as he laid there and watched as your mouth lowered down as you started sucking him off enthusiastically before he couldn’t help but reach up and grasp your face reverently, running hands down your haw and your neck and shoulders.

“Scratch my back would you Love?” You requested as you popped off to ask that before you went back to sucking. Gods in the heavens above and in the waters below, was he delicious. Fresh and clean yet his precum was heady but addictive.

Demsey readily scratched your back as he fought to keep his eyes open and then to feel you settle in his lap, your breasts squished against his balls as your arms laid over his thighs while your hands dug in between his cheeks and the mattress to get good handfuls of it to anchor you before you moved down so that his cock was aimed rather straight down before you opened your jaw and aligned him just right as you put your weight on your knees while your rear rose high in the air and then used your knees to power your body forward to take all of his glorious cock down your throat causing Demsey to nearly yell in surprise, because nothing like that had ever been done to him before and he was left to sit there and stare in astonishment.

“Are..are you ok? Can you even breathe?” He asked worriedly but could feel your noiseless giggling breath from your nose into his own forest of hair around his cock as you nodded yes as Demsney’s eyes nearly rolled back to feel his cock rub so gloriously in your throat as you triggered your swallowing muscles to swallow around him, as humans had a muscle on the back of their trachea to assist in swallowing, mouras had muscles on every side of theirs and that nearly undid him before you started sucking him down until your lips were firmly around the base, his dark hair tickling the tip of your nose as it buried itself in it as you inhaled deeply his heady scent as your throat continued to swallow and slowly flutter down his cock as it was his turn to gasp and moan and keen and growl ever so deliciously as his finger tips threatened to claw at your own back because he didn’t want to leave any marks as he realized, this was why moura harlots were so expensive, because they could do this, because most could never do this and continue to breathe but mouras could. This was one of the greatest pleasures of his life as a series of praises sprinkled with words of profanity began to fall from his mouth along with chanting your own name as you continued to suck away before one of your hands went to his ball sack and started to fondle them and stroke them and scratch at them ever so amazingly before you reached into him to try to find his prostate to massage that and that finally undid him as he couldn’t help but cry out desperately as he emptied himself down your throat while you smiled in satisfaction around him as you rolled your head from side to side with your chest so that his cock twisted inside you as Demsey’s whole body shuddered and shivered.

“Please, I beg for mercy, it’s too much.” Demsey whimpered just as there was a knock on the door.

“I have the moura Sultan’s feast?” Came a masculine voice as he opened the door just as you got back on your knees and slowly pulled your head out of Demsey’s lap as his softening cock now gently bended as it slipped out like a dead snake before it plopped onto the bed as Demsey laid there and basked in his own afterglow as the real Draft and Audrey lowkey watched on curiously as they were both impressed by the feat, but also in awe of your moura marks. Since neither of them had ever seen anything as grand as yours. You must be a moura straight from the colonies or more likely, the stables.

“Thank you.” You happily thanked him as you took one of the robes hanging off a nearby dressing curtain and wrapped it around yourself as you adjusted your gold mask as both of them realized you were both wearing gold masks. You were both clients while they were in black silk masks as Audrey and Draft gave each other a meaningful look before they took your generous tips with grace and then quickly left again.

“You still alive my Dear Demsey?” You cooed as you seated yourself at the table and began to fix your plate how you wanted.

“What?” He managed to ask as he just now managed to peak an eye open to see you sitting pretty, looking like a dish yourself at the table.

“Do you have no appetite?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder at him with a grin.

“Oh I do, I just...men only have three hungers, one for food, one for release and one for sleep and you have managed to somehow make the one far more grand and important than the others.” He praised as he barely managed to gather himself together and get up and managed to get one of the larger robes and put it around himself and walk rather unsteadily towards the table.

“So what is all this then?” He asked.

“Oh you poor thing, does no one order for you a proper Moura Sultan feast? Or is it too unpatriotic for an Englishmen to eat any other food that is common here?” You asked before you went around the table as you told him about each dish as he eagerly tried each thing, an explosion of flavors blooming on his tongue.

“It’s actually this, that is the reasons moura are on earth and it is because of this that mouras are still alive.” You noted as you held up a hunk of turkish delight.

“Turkish delight?” Demsey asked as he took it and ate it, although it was one of the most amazing confections.

“Has your mother never told you of our history?” You asked as Demsey nodded no. The only history Demsey really knew was of his own orcish and English heritage but you clearly frowned underneath that beautiful gold silk mask.

“To be so divorced from our history. Ok, so five millenia ago, it was the surface dwellers, making delicious foods, with fires that had smoke traveling oh so high with the scent of roasting meat and spices going up even to the heavens. Before then, mouras only associated with angles, since they were the closest neighbors. But it was food, rich spices, meats and fats and sweets and breads and it was the creation of delicious foods that tempted the first mouras down to the surface, first as angles, then as humans when some were too frightened of their angel form.” You began as Demsey happily sat and continued to eat and listen to you attentively.

“But alas, no one ever gives something away for free what they worked so hard on themselves. And in an effort to find something that the surface dwellers would take in exchange for that delicious food, the heavenly moura picked up the rocks at their feet, used the very sunshine that gave them everything they needed, warmth, sustenance, life- and turned it into gold in exchange. But while that worked for a time and more and more mouras changed into their human form to walk amongst the surface dwellers, trying everything they could get their hands on, most of the time traveling in flocks, crashing weddings and festivals, gifting pure gold in exchange for a seat at the feasting tables, which their hosts happily accepted, using their moura cloaks to mimic whatever clothes they saw and even invented new styles of clothes for themselves out of it for a moura was both their clothing and their wings or simply a feathered cloak.” You explained as you gestured to the gold peacock feathers on your own skin.

“But it did not last too long, for all the gold they gave soon incited The Great Danger, where surface dwellers cooked elaborate feasts, threw false weddings and festivals, and the purpose was to set a trap for as many mouras as possible so that all of them could turn mounds of stone and rubble and especially bricks of mud into gold and only when the mouras turned their own body weight in gold, were they released. And it is that gold that was the seed for every great king, emperor, czar, cesar and pharaoh came into power, because they employed the golden rule- whoever has the gold- makes the rules.” You divulged as Demsey’s eyes got wide in realization, because he had heard versions of this story as legends. But they were always from the ‘I captured a moura as a bride and now I’m king’ kind of legends. But to hear it from the moura’s point of view, was almost heartbreaking.

“In answer- mouras divided themselves into two kingdoms, one- was against any moura from ever touching the surface of the planet ever again. The other, more tolerant simply set up rules in place for going to the surface but both kingdoms decided to gain a good defense. That is when mouras domesticated phoenixes and bred themselves to them since mouras used to be shapeshifters, having three forms, a human, an angel or a bird of their choice, including a pheonix. And thanks to breeding with the phoenixes, gained the phoenixes powers of spewing fire and rising from the ashes, and thus gained a small measure of immortality and turned a life span of two hundred years to up a lifespan of over 500 years, as long as they were rebirthed in the ashes, even though they were immune to phoenix and dragonfire already, if they chose to be reborn in the ashes, they can choose how hot the flames can be to be reborn. The hotter the quicker the burn, and the more painful but the lower the temperature, the longer it takes, so it’s a matter of slow and low or high and fast.” You explained.

“Have you ever done it? Being reborn in the ashes?” Demsey asked.

“No, such things were lost in the plague. You see, do you remember the stories of gold raining down from heaven? It happened roughly a hundred and sixty seven years ago but the plague started twenty years before then. It happened with the birth of a prince in the high heavenly moura kingdom. All moura babies are born with a gold moura mark at the base of the skull, within the first year, a feather cloak, the moura cloak grows from it, and it looks like a blanket made of feathers. A selkie has a seal skin, a moura had a moura cloak. And with it- all of the moura powers. Powers to heal every affliction, powers to live hundreds of years, powers to turn whatever they wanted into gold, all powered by soaking up the sunshine. But what happened was Prince Theonore, his cloak never did grow, but instead the gold feathers appeared right on his skin. He could not fly, he could not change, he had no powers at all and as the feathers bloomed on his skin, the heavier he became, and the harder it was for him to breathe. Because the air is much, much thinner in the heavens than it is on the surface. There was no altitude above or below the clouds that he could breathe at. Not until there was on place for him except for in a moura colony in the mountains, and even there, he had a hard team breathing. It wasn’t until he came to the low valleys that he could breathe with ease. After that all babies born stopped growing cloaks, stopped being able to fly or have any of the moura gifts, the colonies and the stables were invaded by droves of anxious heavenly moura parents, eager to care for their children who could not stay in the clouds with them because heavenly moura had built fantastic palaces in the clouds, from the outside, it just looked like a cloud, on the inside though, every inch was covered in luxury. Diamonds embezzling most of the surfaces that weren’t otherwise gold, silver or white marble. But the phenomenon didn’t stop there, once the heavenly moura came down, the colony moura’s children and the stable moura children also followed suit. It was like something was in the air. Like dust on the wind, it traveled the world, soon every moura who had the potential of having a cloak, it was all replaced with these marks on their skin. But if it had simply stopped there, it would have been fair, but no.” You shook your head as you could still hear your grandparent’s voice tell you these harrowing stories of their youth.

“At the time, every summer solstice and winter solstice, all mouras who were able, took flight, in the summer, they would follow the sun around the world. In the winter- they followed the moon. And between 18-20 summers and winters, all mouras able, took their first flight. The Prince, had to spend years building up his strength and ability to breathe the thinner air that is above the clouds. There was a special carriage built for him so that his subjects might fly him on his first flight. For it is only after the first flight, that he has to lead that shows he is a qualified ruling moura. But the moment he was hoisted above the clouds, the atmosphere was so thin, that he could not breathe, but worse, the moment the sun shone on him, his gold moura feathers instantly turned black and began to burn him and within moments he dissolved like ash, the black particles dissolving off of him and the particles were then taken with a stiff wind to all the mouras behind him. And the particles killed all the heavenly moura upon contact, and it turned them into gold dust which then collected in the clouds. The mountain moura saw this and dove for the ground but the moment the dust touched them, it started to turn their own wings to pure gold and suddenly countless moura plummeted to the ground and it was only the angels who dove after them to keep them from colliding with the surface but once on the ground, all the moura had to lay down with their wings to the earth because trying to get up would snap their spines because a moura’s wings and an angel’s wings were the same size, but instead of light feathers, sinewy muscles and hollowed out bones to help with bearing the weight of them, to be suddenly so heavy and solid gold, was too much. It took almost every angel in heaven to find a cure. A special spell in a special liquid that looked like electrum that was drank and once it was drunk the wings could be changed back to flesh and blood and bone, they could be drawn into the body again, but with it, nothing a moura ever touched would be turned into gold ever again but in order for all the mouras to be saved from the plague, it was given to all. Those whose wings had been out could draw them back in but never out again, instead, the golden feathers then spread to their skin too and with it, their hair turned golden blonde, and their eyes golden yellow and it was the golden feathers that replaced the real moura marks that used to light up and glow around each moura like the northern lights around the world. After that, with no heavenly moura to maintain their castles and estates in the clouds, they all slowly reverted back to clouds and heavenly moura have become only a memory for some and a fable for others. And then clouds scattered the gold dust all over the world with the rains which was in reality, the golden dust ash of countless heavenly moura. After that, all heavenly moura had two options, go into a colony where neither king nor class exists, where you have to fend for yourself and be completely self sufficient and learn how to take care of themselves but where your genetics didn’t matter, who you were as a person did, and you could marry for love for there was no other reason to marry or go into the stables, where there still was a class system, with servants and palaces and estates and hierarchy and royalty and prestige. I’ll let you guess where a majority of the heavenly moura decided to reside.” You hinted at with a grin.

“But over time, the golden feathers have become fewer and fewer with every generation away from “pure” moura and I have already seen how the moura mark that every moura baby is born with- becomes less and less, until it’s barely a tiny dot. Until there is no moura mark at all and whatever traits mouras have, will become extinct just like the cloak, just like the heavenly moura. We are a dying breed, even now so many women have a hard time conceiving in the stables when mouras have always been renowned for the ability to conceive and carry with the utmost of ease. I do not know about the colonies, but at least in the stables. A whole country that used to be bursting with people, where there were literally tens and hundreds of thousands of families within the stables, and now instead of having dozens of family lines per district and quarter, there is only two or three families. I came from the Hanging Garden Quarter, it used to be the Sultanate Quarter, the Sultanate quarter catered to hundreds of Sultanate states in the middle east and far beyond. But as the Sultanate states fell one by one like dominoes, along with most other empires, the need for us became null and void and what used to be a court that was the same size as London is now…” You voice broke and became thick with emotion before Demsey reached out and simply held your hand.

“Now it’s just five palaces under the Hanging Garden Quarter. It won’t be but two, maybe three generations before the stables collapse completely and Dorierra will just be another colony. We have already opened the doors to other mouras to take it over and there are so many from all over the world in different colonies who have taken it up so the country doesn’t fall to a peoples other than mouras. If not in kind, at least in name. After so many millennia of feeling like we were the apex of creation, our own obsession with perfection saw to our downfall and our own lust for power and riches saw to our own demise. That is why each gold moura mark is a sad reminder of what we used to be and used to have. So enjoy it while it lasts. Because it will not be around for forever.” You explained as Demsey now understood why Sultana Aurdravienne would not return to the stables. Because there was nothing for her to return to.

“Do you think any of that would have ever happened had mouras never touched the ground?” Demsey asked.

“I think it would have happened much, much sooner, and if we hadn’t, no moura would be alive today, or even one or maybe a few millennia ago. We would have died out long before and all we ever would have been is a myth that would have had no evidence of existence at all, the only evidence we have is the pictures the angles have taken of the heavenly moura over time. And they have gifted those pictures to the colonies and to the stables so that at least we have tangible proof instead of memories from our elders, but even now some just say they are pretty pictures painted by someone with an extreme imagination because the hot air balloons have gone up into the clouds and of course there’s no traces of heavenly moura left up there, there’s no palaces or estates or people.” You mused as you shook your head sadly.

“Now you know.” You told him.

“However that being said, this is the closest taste of home since I came here a lifetime ago. I wish this place would open a restaurant, and actually sell the food as is without the casino.” You murmured as you finally really dug into your feast as Demsey was now struck with an idea on how to charm Sultana Audravienne, he was going to bring this food to her. But first, he was going to ravish the Audra before him the moment she was done eating.

Meanwhile Audrey and Draft had gone to Annie and Maria to inform them of what they saw.

“I thought it was weird that she likened you to a draft horse instead of the brahma bull you are.” Annie mused to Draft.

“And I thought it was weird that the gentleman got your name wrong. He called you Audra instead of Audrey. No one really ever get’s your name wrong. Not even the Dauphin Ramsey get’s your name wrong.” Maria realized.

“So what are we going to do, because if either of them comes back and the other is not here, they will surely know something is wrong if they request us thinking it’s the other. And it would be ruin for the lady especially if who she is sharing that room with knows that she is a lady and not a harlot.” Audrey asked.

“We will figure out something. They seem to come at the same time, maybe their coincidences will continue?” Draft ventured.

“Maybe, but if they find out and want to continue, we can always keep one of the affair suites open for them, I mean there’s no reason why we can’t keep taking their money and why you two can’t keep taking their tips at least, if they’re paying for a service, let them pay.” Maria insisted with a shrug of her shoulder as the others nodded in agreement.

“I have no problem taking the money, it’s not like I’m not rendering those services anyway.” Draft shrugged as Audrey nodded in agreement.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Part 5 #lemon baby #orc lemon #regency era orc period drama #orc love story #moura #hehehehe

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

She is forever - Part 2

Series Masterlist - Stucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC, Bucky Barnes x OC (Ophelia Wright)

Summary: When Steve and Bucky went to the army there was a girl they went to school with who wasn’t allowed to go. She was left alone and never thought about again, until Steve sees a carbon copy of her on the streets outside Stark tower and she seems to know them just a little too well to be a stranger.

Word count: 2138

‘You’re going to get hurt if you keep thinking like that.‘ ‘I know, but sometimes the world is prettier in my head.‘

Anything is prettier than the world inside Bucky’s head. He knows it, Steve knows it, everyone knows it. With the amount of times Bucky has woken up screaming and skipping his rest it’s a miracle he’s even alive. Which is why Steve is a bit surprised when he doesn’t get woken up by Bucky’s screaming throughout the night. He had woken up at 3am out of habit, but when he checked Bucky’s room he was peacefully sleeping. It had scared him for a second because, at this point, Steve is convinced Bucky can only lay like that when he’s dead. But no. The man wasn’t even curled up like he always was. It stressed Steve out knowing it might’ve been because Bucky was starting to make a wrong narrative about Ophelia in his head. Back in the day, she was the one who would lay with Bucky when he couldn’t sleep. He had written how he missed her to Steve, that he had such a horrible time falling asleep ever since. But now he was suddenly sleeping soundly for a whole damn week. Steve just hopes it is because it give Bucky peace of mind to know where Ophelia ended up, but he knows that isn’t the case.

Ophelia slept horrible throughout the week. The years after Bucky went to war were terrible, but she thought she had gotten over the loss of touch. No, meeting Bucky again sparked the need to be touched and made it way worse than it had ever been. Normally, she could get by with a weighted blanket for pressure and a teddy bear for touch, but last night it hadn’t worked. She felt terrible, but she won’t show it. After all, she doesn’t have shit to do. Working on a new project, yes, but that’s all in her own time. Art isn’t something that just go, go, goes. ‘Good morning miss Wright,‘ the girl at the front desk, Naomi, greets Ophelia as she walks in, ‘mister Stark called. He is having a party this Friday and was wondering if he could rent some of your art to display.‘ ‘Oh, always,‘ Ophelia answers with a smile, ‘I’ll give him a call. Thank you so much Naomi. Anything else?‘ ‘Yes, mister Rogers stopped by and dropped this off for you,‘ she says and hands Ophelia an envelope. ‘Is that it?‘ Naomi nods. ‘Good, I’ll be in the studio. Call me if I’m needed.‘ ‘Yes ma’am.‘ ‘Oh, and I know you have that thing tonight, so I want you to let me know when it’s 5pm so I can take over for you.‘ ‘Oh, you don’t have to.‘ ‘Yes I do,‘ Ophelia says with a smile, ‘you do so much for me, I can do something for you every once in a while.‘ She walks through the gallery, checking if all the paintings are still in place and straight except for the ones who aren’t supposed to hang straight. Satisfied, she walks into a back door and up a staircase to the studio above the gallery. It has marvelous natural light and a beautiful view on the streets. But no time to marvel over the view. Ophelia has an envelope to open and someone to call. She opens the envelope and is faced with pictures of her that she knew existed, but had never seen herself because both Bucky and Steve had teased her with the candid pictures. With the pictures is a note.

“Dear Ophelia,

Bucky and I wanted to thank you for digging through your pictures and bringing these memories back to us. We’ve enjoyed talking about them and reliving the past. See these pictures as our part of a non negotiated exchange. Because your grandmother never wanted to be in pictures Bucky and I took it upon ourselves to get her in pictures. These are a few of the pictures we have taken of her. We hope you’ll cherish them as much as we do. And I know I’ve said it before, but you do look a lot like your grandmother. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a clone of her.

Steve.“

Ophelia feels her heart beat. Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam. It beats like a bass drum in a heavy metal song. Way too fucking fast. Why does it always feel like they know when they say things like this? Will this last? What has she gotten herself into? To distract herself, she starts thinking about Tony Stark wanting to rent some of her artwork like he does all the time for his parties. It’s something she always enjoys because he doesn’t care what she gives him. For all he cares, she draws a dick on a white canvas and calls it a day, he’ll still hang it. “Stark tower, this is Penny speaking.” ‘Hey Penny, this is Ophelia Wright. I heard Tony called to rent some more artwork?‘ “That is right. I’ll redirect your call to him.“ ‘Thank you very much.‘ “Tony speaking.“ ‘Hi, it’s Ophelia.‘ “Ah, Ophelia. Wonderful. So what’s your answer?“ ‘Of course you can rent art from me. You do have to come over to pick some.‘ “Do I get special treatment?“ Ophelia rolls her eyes. ‘I’ll grab some paintings that haven’t been shown yet. But just because it’s you.‘ “Thank you sweetheart. Oh, Natasha told me you also did a painting for her and she’d like to pick it up?“ ‘Just bring her with you. I’m available until five.‘ “I’ll be over in a few.“ ‘Sure, just tell Naomi to call me over. You know the drill.‘ “I do, but thanks for the refresher.“ ‘No problem. Always happy to help the elderly.‘ “Wow, I feel lightly offended. Let me scrape my pride off the floor and then I’ll be there.“ ‘For sure. Bye.‘ Oh boy, this is going to be fun.

The second Tony puts down the phone he realizes everyone in the common room is staring at him. Which includes Natasha, Bucky, Steve, and Peter who had just come in after some “nerd thing“ as Thor usually called it. ‘Oh, we’re going to pick up the painting,‘ Natasha asks excitedly. Tony gives her a confused look. ‘Yes we are. I’m sorry, why are you so cheery about this?‘ ‘Ophelia wanted to paint something inspired by me,‘ Natasha tells him, ‘I’m curious what it is. I had to pose for a lot of pictures, but I don’t know what it is.‘ Tony nods, but looks no less confused. ‘Can I come too?‘ The group turns to Bucky, who is never one to volunteer to come with. ‘Yeah, sure.‘ ‘I’m coming too,‘ Steve states. ‘Jesus, is this going to be a school trip or something,‘ Tony sighs and looks over at Peter who tries to lower the hand he apparently raised, ‘just come with. It’s fine.‘ Peter nods with a smile. And so the group crosses the street and stand in front of a wide eyed Naomi. She didn’t expect this group to walk in like this. ‘Hi Naomi, I’m here for the art rental,‘ Tony tells her. She nods and starts pressing buttons on her phone. ‘Oh, and maybe tell her that everyone suddenly wanted to come along. Just so she’s prepared.‘ ‘You brought the whole group,‘ a voice says excited. They all turn to Ophelia who comes walking towards them dressed in overalls that have paint stains everywhere and a black sweater that she wears beneath it. ‘Yeah, they all wanted to come along,‘ Tony says with an apologetic look in his face but not in his tone. ‘Of course they did. I’m a great artist,‘ Ophelia jokes, ‘I was going to take Natasha and Tony upstairs to have a look at some things, but now that you’re all here I’d love to take some pictures of all of you to use as references. Most people I hire to take pictures of aren’t- well- they aren’t superheroes.‘ ‘Yeah, sure, I don’t mind,‘ Steve says. ‘Great, great, ehm, who is this kid,‘ Ophelia asks a bit confused as she looks at Peter. ‘Oh, Peter Parker, he interns at the Stark Tower,‘ Tony lies through his teeth. ‘Sure,‘ Ophelia says with a suspicious tone in her voice, ‘let’s go up.‘ Peter looks stressed as can be when they go upstairs. ‘Does she know something? Did I do something?‘ He keeps asking questions in a hushed tone, but Ophelia hears all of it. She’s seen him before multiple times. Sometimes dressed in red, other times dressed in normal clothes. ‘Tony, you should really be a bit more secretive if you want your spider boy to keep his secret,‘ Ophelia whispers to Tony. ‘I knew you’d find out,‘ Tony seems almost proud that she did figure it out, ‘but the kid’s great at keeping a secret. He’ll be fine. Just need to learn a thing or two.‘ She grins and opens the door to the studio for all of them. ‘Please watch your feet, there is paint scattered across the floor. I didn’t exactly had time to clean. If you value your shoes, I do have shoe protectors,‘ she announces to the group. Then she takes Natasha’s hand and pulls her over to a corner. She hands her a slab of wood with her eyes painted on it as the main focus of the face. ‘Wow, that’s beautiful,‘ Natasha awes, ‘I didn’t think you did realistic paintings.‘ ‘I do sometimes.‘ ‘What do I owe you?‘ Ophelia smiles. ‘Nothing. You gave me inspiration, so I give you art.‘ Natasha pulls the girl into a quick hug. ‘Thank you so much Ophelia, I love it.‘ Ophelia smiles and walks over to Tony to show him the new pieces that are ready to go on display after this show. The two look at the pieces for a while, talking about what would fit where, when Ophelia hears a loud gasp. She turns around to see Bucky standing at her rack of private canvasses. ‘Bucky, please step away from those, those aren’t for anyone to see,‘ she snaps at him. He looks up in shock and a realization hits her. ‘Fuck.‘ ‘What is it Bucky?‘ Steve is still oblivious to the whole situation while everyone else is frozen. ‘Steve, I swear to God, if you look at what Barnes found I will tear your head off,‘ she snaps before she can realize it. He stops and stares at her. She rushes over to Bucky and looks at what he saw. It’s a rendition of a picture that is still stuck for it for inspiration. The picture if of Bucky and Steve on that night they went skinny dipping. Ophelia pretends to be relieved, but she can tell that Bucky isn’t buying it. To reduce damage, she flips to a canvas only a few behind it to show him a nude that she had painted with herself as the subject. ‘Sorry, I thought you saw that one. I was working on painting some pictures my grandma left,‘ she tells him as explanation and tries to smile, but Bucky is still unsure about her excuse. Though he did feel a bit invasive when she showed the naked painting. ‘We’re good. I’m sorry for yelling,‘ Ophelia apologizes to everyone and tries to go on her merry way, but Bucky grabs her wrist with his metal arm. The metal makes her shiver and it is only now that she sees it. He watches the change in her face as she looks at his arm and back at him. She looks pained seeing what happened to him. Before either of them can say anything, Steve steps in being the peacemaker that he is. ‘Bucky, let go of her.‘ But Bucky doesn’t listen. ‘Talk.‘ ‘No.‘ He squeezes. She winces. ‘Bucky!‘ ‘Talk.‘ His eyes turn dark as he hears Ophelia’s breathing become louder at the pain in her wrist. ‘What the hell are you doing Bucky,‘ Tony tries to step closer, but Bucky shoots him a look that could only mean danger, so he steps back. Bucky meets Ophelia’s eyes again. ‘Last chance.‘ The two stare at each other, but he can see that she isn’t going to say a word even if he does break her wrist. The seconds feel like minutes as the air becomes thick with tension. No one dares to move and not even Steve dares to speak. ‘Let go of me.‘ Ophelia speaks slow and clear. Neither of them wants to show defeat and it scares everyone around them. Suddenly, Bucky is hit in the head with a mixing stick for paint. Surprised, he lets go of Ophelia who looks back to see Peter with a terrified look on his face. No one had paid attention to him the whole time they were here. He was near invisible to everyone when Bucky grabbed Ophelia so he was in the perfect place to throw something to throw him off. She nods to him as a thanks and runs over to Tony. ‘Bucky, I think it’s time you leave,‘ Tony speaks loud and clear. ‘She’s lying to us,‘ he barks at Steve, ‘she isn’t Ophelia’s granddaughter, she IS Ophelia.‘

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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canonismybitch · 4 years

Text

Little Ducklings

By @canonismybitch for @just-the-daydreamer

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Not rated

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Academic Decathlon Team, Bruce Banner & Roger Harrington

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, FRIDAY, Academic Decathlon Team

Summary: Peter Parker was sick, and he would not let that keep him from going to his Field Trip. It also gave Tony a reason to take over the tour.

Hey Beca! Surprise!!!! I’m your off-holidays secret santa! I really hope you enjoy the fic!

Peter Parker-Stark was not having a good day.

But that wasn’t unusual, was it?

No, his luck had never been the best to begin with, so bad days were something he had grown used to (as sad as that was).

But his bad days were usually because of the villain of the week, or a study session for Decathlon he had forgotten about (but MJ hadn’t, because she never forgot stuff like that). Sometimes it was gym class and having to pretend that he was weak and couldn’t do the exercises like his classmates; some others because he had to leave Ned and MJ staying up for him to watch a movie that would have to wait because people apparently forgot that kidnapping was illegal.

All in all, bad days were even more common than good days, so it wasn’t at all surprising.

What was surprising was that Peter woke up sick.

Sure, he had been a very sickly kid all his childhood (and part of teenagehood, even if the word sounded weird), but after his run-in with a certain radioactive spider, Peter had had nothing else but perfect health. Ever since that horrible night when we spent an uncountable amount of time puking his guts out and fever-dreaming, he had not been sick. Nothing. Nada.

For four years.

So why the hell did he feel like dying?

Peter hadn’t felt more nauseous in his life. Well… except for that time when the spider bit him and his stomach had felt as if it was fighting a war with food (and losing), but that time he had actually thrown up.

Today he had woken up feeling as if all his dinner (and midnight snack) would be coming back up, except they hadn’t, and Peter had felt miserable all morning, especially when he had to bend over to pick his clothes even though his dad always told him to leave your clothes somewhere where I can’t step on them, Pete.

[He’d listen to his dad from now on. Maybe.]

His dad had left him a note on the kitchen next to a plate of pancakes that, if it were any other day, would’ve smelled heavenly. As it was, Peter just grabbed the note and ran (power walked, really) out of the kitchen so he could read it in peace.

Hey kiddo! See you in a few hours ;) Pls eat breakfast. It’s chilly out so grab something comfy, I don’t want a repeat of last Xmas. Love you! Dad

Peter sighed, if it were for him, he’d have stayed in bed all day, but nooooooo. Today had to be his Decathlon team’s field trip to the Tower and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to miss it. He didn’t even want to miss it. Sure, most of his class didn’t believe him, but he really wanted to show his home to Ned and MJ, since they could never visit because your dad is Iron Man! Danger! Authorized personnel only!

Besides, he would even get to show the team that the internship was real, maybe that way they’d stop calling him a liar behind his back; as if their whispers were subtle. Peter bet that he would be able to hear them even without his super hearing.

“Peter, Mr. Hogan is waiting for you in the garage. I would advise you to eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.”

Peter hurriedly grabbed a hoodie that someone (probably him) had left draped over the sofa and ran to the elevator. An unhappy Happy was not someone anyone ever wanted to encounter.

(Sometimes he wondered if the Happy from Snow White could ever be unhappy like his Happy. Not that he ever told anyone.)

People at school were staring at him for longer than usual. Peter thought it had something to do with the fact that his skin was most definitely green and that it looked as if he would make a dash for the bathroom at any second. Belatedly, he thought about the bus ride to the Tower and prayed to Loki (because Uncle Thor never really answered) that he wouldn’t have to ride at the back.

“Well, someone's feeling bold today. What gives, eight legs?”

Peter jumped a little when he heard MJ appear behind him and grab the sleeves of his hoodie. Ned wasn’t far behind her.

“What do you mean, MJ?” Peter turned around to look at her, “Bold?”

MJ let his sleeve go, an are you serious, Parker? look in her eyes that he knew too well.

“Dude! That is so cool! Tony lets you use his clothes? I thought they’d fit better but that hoodie is super baggy, where did you get it? Did you raid a cardboard box with other cool stuff? Did you find any science trophies-?”

Peter was pretty sure his face was the epitome of confusion, and MJ was merciful enough to put him out of his misery.

“The hoodie, loser. It says ‘Stark’ on the back.”

Oh.

Peter must’ve grabbed his father’s hoodie from his MIT days. Tony had a habit of leaving it in the living room for Peter to use when they had a movie night. Clint had called it proof of the Dadvengers being an actual thing, but his dad had thrown the bowl of popcorn to the archer’s face and that had been that.

[That had not been that, and Tony was now the (questionably) proud owner of a pair of Crocs that had big plastic letters with the word DADVENGER on the front. Not that Peter knew that.]

It made sense though, Peter always went to that hoodie for comfort, and today had been especially shitty.

MJ threw an eraser to his forehead, counting on Peter to catch it and snap out of whatever it was that he was thinking.

“It looks good on you, nerd. Now hurry up, because I am not sitting at the back of the bus and I’m dragging you two dorks with me.”

And with that, MJ turned around and started walking towards their bus, expecting Ned and Peter to follow.

Of course they followed. They were best friends with the scary lady, they knew that nothing good would happen if they didn’t. It wasn’t until they had already taken their seats that Peter remembered MJ liked to ride on the back and sketch people’s faces.

Awwww, so she did love him.

Flash made sure to kick his leg as he made his way towards the back of the bus.

“Good thing I’m not going to be anywhere near you, Penis. You look like you’re gonna toss your cookies at any moment-” Wait, was Flash worried about him? Did he really look that sick? “-I’ll make sure to film it though, maybe show it to every single employee we find, what do you think? They’ll see how pathetic the guy posing as an intern actually is.”

Or, Peter thought, maybe he’s just making fun of me.

When the bus rumbled to life, and Peter felt the engine and its little tremors on his whole body, he had to hug his stomach and bend until his head was practically hidden between his legs. Because of that, he didn’t get to see Ned and MJ exchange looks that practically screamed this idiot is actually going to toss his cookies, isn’t he?

Knowing Peter as well as they did, they figured out pretty quickly that he probably had decided to come on the trip just for them. And, yeah, they loved the adorable dork, but the second he was feeling better MJ wouldn’t hesitate to punch him for being an idiot.

Though, judging by the way Peter groaned and buried himself in his hoodie, they guessed the nausea (and the migraine that the spiderling felt coming) was enough punishment for now.

Ned shuffled on his seat until he managed to get his jacket off and proceeded to drape it like a blanket on top of Peter, who hadn’t even noticed that he was shivering until he felt the very warm and very comfy fabric on top of him. It smelled like Ned and his lavender cologne, strong enough to comfort him but light enough to not make him puke.

Peter still groaned when he felt the bus do a particularly nasty jump that left his stomach rolling and his head bouncing, which did not help his headache at all. The sound of a pencil over paper told him that MJ was having way too much fun with his misery. Flash’s snickering wasn’t really welcome either.

Mr. Harrington? Well, at this point he and Ned were the only people he would tolerate, so he wasn’t too angry when his science teacher knelt beside him.

“Peter? Are you feeling okay? I brought some Benadryl you can take if you’re feeling bus sick, maybe even some gum?”

He knew that his teacher meant well, but the thought of the peppermint gum his teacher was sure to be carrying made his nausea worse. Shaking his head was also out of the question when he felt his headache spiking into there’s a hammer on my skull levels.

Thankfully, he had the best friend in the whole world, and he spoke sick Peter (though he was a bit rusty in the language, the spiderling hadn’t been sick for a long time, though you didn’t hear Ned complaining about that).

“Uh, Mr. Harrington? Peter’s fine. Just, don’t mention the bus sickness? Or the gum?”

Their teacher –bless him– just gave them a look before going back to his place at the front of the bus.

When Peter’s head bounced again after their driver decided that he wanted to play a game of how to drive through the lanes with the most bumps, MJ sighed and threw her sweater at the vigilante. The smell of her fabric softener and the soft wool made for the perfect pillow, and he was out like a light for the rest of the ride.

You know how sometimes you feel sick, and you take a nap to make yourself feel better? But it actually does the opposite and you wake up feeling like shit?

Yeah.

If it weren’t for Ned, Peter thought he might not have been able to sit up from the (very uncomfortable) bus seat. As it was, he faithfully followed his best friends like a baby duckling until they were standing with the whole team in front of Stark Tower.

The oohs and aahs weren’t helping his headache any. Even though everyone from the Decathlon team lived in New York, they stared at the Tower as if it was a view they didn’t see every day.

Even Mr. Harrington looked excited, and he never looked like that unless he was explaining a particularly interesting chemical reaction. Peter wondered if that’s the face he would make when the class gave him the set of new beakers everyone had gotten him for Teacher’s Day.

Memo to me, he thought, remind me to ask MJ to sketch his face that day.

Before he knew anything, they were going inside the Tower.

Right into his home.

Peter’s head felt like it was made of cotton.

His nausea had returned tenfold, and now his muscles felt heavy, stiff. As if he had been gone out on patrol for far too long and his super healing had yet to kick in. Every movement costed him as if there were weights strapped to his limbs.

He knew that he wasn't the only one that noticed.

Still, he took a deep breath, straightened up as much as his rolling stomach let him, and let the glare of the sun right on his eyes and into what was becoming the worst headache of his life.

If anyone at the Tower figured out that he was sick, his dad would worry. Peter didn’t want that.

Surprisingly, Mr. Harrington managed to herd them into a line of students that could have been called straight, except for the fact that Ned and MJ had decided to be his personal bodyguards (how they were going to guard him from the worst case of flu he had ever experienced, Peter didn’t know) and stand at his sides in case he decided to take a little tumble. Still, since they were at the end of the line no one really seemed to mind.

They got Eloise as their tour guide. Peter liked to give tours of the Tower masquerading as an intern, and Eloise almost always ended up with him as her shadow. They had bonded over their sixth (seventh for Peter) sense that warned them of people trying to touch stuff they specifically told them not to touch. As much as Peter was relieved that their guide was someone he knew (not that he didn’t know everyone in the Tower), the second Eloise laid her eyes on him she’d know that he was sick. And if she knew, it wouldn’t be long before Tony did.

Sure enough, her eyes lingered a bit longer on his form before she clapped her hands animatedly and addressed his team.

“Well hello, Midtown! It’s a pleasure to have the winners of the National Academic Decathlon competition here at Stark Industries! I’m sure your teacher has gone over the rules with you, but you’ll have to bear with me,” his classmates were too busy being excited to really care about having to wait a few seconds longer to go inside, even MJ seemed especially attentive. “Our most important rule here at Stark Industries is that we do not condone harassment. If we see you harassing any of your classmates or any of our employees you will all be required to step out of the building. I know that it’s not fair for those of you that are sweet and innocent angels, but you have to be accompanied by your teacher at all times, and if one person has to step out, all of you have to follow. There are no warnings, no third strike, you’re out. You harass anyone, you’re out.”

Unsurprisingly, everyone subtly (and not so subtly) looked at Flash, promising him hell with their glares if he got them kicked out of the coolest building in the world. And –as if they had rehearsed it– all the team nodded at the same time.

Eloise smiled at them.

“Great! Now, rule number two is very simple: you do not touch anything unless you have permission. You will not believe how many times this rule is broken in our tours, but I’m counting on you to be a good group and keep your grabby hands to yourselves.”

That said, she clapped her hands together and motioned for the team to follow her through the metal scanner that doubled as an entrance to the public. Everyone followed Eloise through it without a second thought, probably ignoring the fact that their faces were being scanned as they walked right through. It wasn’t until Peter made his way to his teammates that FRIDAY spoke up, effectively scaring everyone into jumping a couple of feet in the air (even MJ, and that gave him bragging rights for months).

“Hello, Peter. It’s odd to see you back so soon, is everything alright?”

By force of habit, Peter answered the AI before he even realized that said AI had no right to be familiar with him.

“Hey, FRI! I’m on a field trip, not that you didn’t know that.”

“Your sassiness has been noted, Peter.”

He smiled at the ceiling as he often did when talking to FRIDAY, but someone clearing their throat brought him back to the very real fact that his Decathlon team was staring at him as if he had grown a second head, or those extra arms Ned liked to talk about.

“Stop stealing the attention of my tour group, puppy eyes. We have a schedule to follow.”

Eloise winked at him, purposefully using the nickname Clint and Nat had made for Peter. The vigilante mock-glared at their guide, but dutifully acted like a duckling and following her to the elevator.

His team kept staring at him.

Maybe he had grown an extra set of arms after all.

“Boss, Peter is in the building and he is looking remarkably under the weather.”

Tony looked up from his cup of coffee, half a cookie in his mouth.

“Run that by me again, FRI?”

“Peter appears to be exhibiting symptoms consistent with the flu, sir. Very noticeable nausea, very slow walking, and possible headache.”

Tony rubbed at his forehead, exasperated. His kid was going to be the death of him, and it wasn’t even 10 AM.

“Did he even eat breakfast, FRI? Like I told him to?”

“Negative, Boss. His pancakes are on a lunch box in his backpack. By my calculations, they are already cold and possibly unappetizing.”

This time, Tony let his head drop to the kitchen counter with a quiet thud. His teeth catching on the uneaten remains of the cookie.

“This kid…”

Riding on the elevator had been a Bad Idea. With capital letters and everything.

The moment they had started moving upwards to what Peter could see was floor 47, his nausea started up again, worse than ever. Dizziness had also decided to make an appearance, and for a good 12 floors, he had to lean on Ned to avoid dropping like a sack of potatoes on top of Cyndi and Charles.

MJ made sure to take a picture of his face so she could draw it later.

She also kept one of her hands hovering behind his back in case he decided to topple over Mr. Harrington instead.

When the elevator doors opened after what seemed like an eternity, Peter was one of the first people out, vowing to himself to never go inside an elevator again.

(He knew he’d have to break his vow the minute the team had to go to lunch, but he ignored that for now.)

“Well, Midtown, we’re on floor 47. This is one of the more advanced sections of the Tower, and tour groups aren’t usually allowed up here, but Mr. Stark made an exception for you guys. You can thank puppy eyes over there, Peter’s his personal intern and probably the reason you’ll get to meet some Avengers today–” everyone erupted into squeals of excitement, most of the team looking at Peter as if they were seeing him for the first time in their lives.

“Wait, so you do have an internship here, man?”

“And you’re Tony Stark’s personal intern?”

“Think you can give us a tour of the super-secret stuff, Parker?”

Oh, Thor. His team was staring at him as if they wanted to eat him alive.

“I’m afraid Peter can’t show you any classified stuff, or he’d risk being fired. However, we can continue on with the tour and I’ll show you to the super cool lab that’s right behind you.”

And with that, everyone turned to look at the glass walls that separated them from what Peter knew to be the prosthetics lab. From what he could see, Bruce was working down here today.

Apparently, his classmates made the same discovery promptly after Peter did and had started to whisper animatedly about Bruce Banner being right in front of them oh God they should have brought a picture of him so he could sign it.

If his team had been a bunch of puppies, they would have all been wagging their tails.

It was kind of cute, actually.

“Boss, Peter and his team are down on the prosthetic lab on floor 47. Dr. Banner is also working there at the moment.”

Tony grinned, grabbing his third cup of coffee and making his way to the elevator.

He had a kid to take care of, and two best friends he needed to meet.

The moment they stepped inside the lab, one of the interns –Mark?– grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him to one of the tables at the center of the room. (And– yep, there was the headache again.)

“Uh, excuse me– I can’t allow you to take a student from the group–”

“Roger? Roger Harrington?”

Every single person in the room simultaneously turned to look at Dr. Banner and Mr. Harrington in what would have been a very comic reenactment of a tennis match if it wasn’t for the fact that Bruce Banner apparently knew Mr. Harrington and he hadn’t thought to tell them.

“Dr. Banner, ah… I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

Bruce came up to their teacher and hugged him.

Honest to Thor hugged him.

“Of course I would! Peter likes to talk about his science classes and your name comes up once in a while. He’s one of our best engineers, by the way, you’ll have to excuse us for trying to steal your student; we don’t usually get him to come down and help with this lab, even if it was his idea in the first place.”

The tour group had turned to look back at Peter, who by that time had made use of one of the stools in the lab and had sat down to examine what looked to be a prosthetic hand.

(Well, the tour group minus Mr. Harrington, who looked ecstatic about one of his students telling Dr. Banner about his science class, that he enjoyed.)

Queens’ vigilante was valiantly ignoring the looks his classmates were giving him, opting to test the mobility on the prosthetic arm he was working on. That didn’t stop him from listening to Flash’s sputtering, and Peter cracked a smile at the finger his bully was pointing at him.

“I did tell you I had an internship…”

“But you didn’t tell me that you had a Field Trip today, kiddo. Shouldn’t I have signed something?”

So this is how Peter died. The flu wouldn’t kill him, oh no. The flu was there to make him feel even more miserable while he watched his dad making his way to his table, Spider-Man mug in hand and sunglasses on, walking in like he owned the place (which, he did…).

“Uh… I had my Aunt sign it, sir?”

His dad set the mug down next to Peter’s tools on the table, before making grabby hands at his handiwork and examining, turning it every which way.

The room was eerily quiet.

And then–

“You’re Tony Stark!”

Tony turned to look at the tour group before him.

“And you all have elbows,” at the sight of the kids’ stunned faces, the billionaire shrugged, “What? I thought we were pointing out the obvious.”

He turned to look at back at his son and took note of the hoodie under a large jacket that could’ve only belonged to Ned. He smirked.

“Isn’t that my hoodie?”

Peter grinned back at his father, taking the prosthetic from his dad and carefully placing it back in its case.

“Hoodie? What hoodie?”

Tony just laughed, ruffling his kid’s curls and taking note of the way he winced when his head moved a little too much for his liking.

“Just for that, I’m stealing your hoodie next time I see it laying around in the lab.”

The mechanic’s eyes scanned the gaggle of stunned teenagers and one starry-eyed teacher before he spotted the two people he had been looking for. They were unmistakable, even if he had never met them personally –the walls in his son’s room were filled to the brim with pictures of these two. He pointed at them.

“Ted and Melissa, right?”

Peter hid his head on his hands. Of course Tony was picking today of all days to be a dad.

Ned didn’t look nearly as affected as Peter.

“Yes, sir! Well, kinda…”

His father huh-ed, and then looked at their tour guide.

“Eloise, was it? You’re free to go back to your project. I’ve got the little ducklings.”

She nodded quickly, saying goodbye to the team while Dr. Banner and Mr. Harrington swapped numbers.

Then, Tony led them to the elevator.

Ned and MJ were right there for him to lean on while they made their way to the training rooms. So was his dad, but by this point, he was pretty sure that FRIDAY had told him something was definitely not fine, and he wasn’t about to worry him even more. That didn’t make the elevator ride any less hellish, especially when Flash kept glaring daggers at him.

This time, the elevator stopped at the Avengers’ personal gym.

His class stayed inside the elevator, Tony the only one to actually step out and greet his team. Even though they had known that they’d see their heroes, everyone appeared to be too excited to move.

It wasn’t until FRIDAY had started closing the elevator doors that they all stepped out as fast as they could and gathered around Tony like the ducklings the billionaire liked to compare them to.

“Well! I’m pretty sure you know who they are, you’re free to pester them with questions! And don’t worry, they don’t bite,” he dramatically scratched his chin, “wait, Natasha does bite, but you’re safe with the others!”

His classmates made their way to the Avengers, slowly at first. Then, Clint made a joke and that was all it took before the heroes found themselves answering questions left and right.

Peter stayed by his dad.

Tony hugged him with one arm, both for affection and to ensure that he wouldn’t go say hi to the floor.

“FRIDAY said you were sick, buddy. Why didn’t you stay in bed?”

The spiderling shook his head, before wincing as his headache just got worse.

“I wanted to come. They didn’t believe in my internship, and I really wanted to show Ned and MJ around. Besides, I felt fine yesterday…”

“You should have at least eaten breakfast. You know your spidey metabolism needs fuel.”

Peter made a face.

“I… couldn’t really stomach anything. I mean, I haven’t thrown up yet, but that’s turning out to be a very real possibility.”

His dad frowned.

“When your team goes home I’m taking you down to the medbay, you haven’t been sick since the spider bite and a little stomach bug should’ve been nothing for your healing.”

Peter opened his mouth to answer, but someone yelling his name took his attention elsewhere.

“Pete! We’re gonna do a quick demonstration. Wanna spar?”

Uh, no thanks. He would definitely pass out if he did that.

Thankfully, his dad knew that too.

“Not today, Legolas! Gotta take the ducklings to lunch. Be a responsible tour guide and all that. Midtown! Follow me to the cafeteria, please!”

His classmates waved at the Avengers, taking some last-minute selfies and shaking their hands.

Peter resigned himself to another ride in the elevator.

Peter loved the cafeteria. Almost every day, he’d come down here for a quick snack on his way to help in whatever lab crossed him first, and Martha –the nice lady that sold ice cream– always saved him a scoop or four for when he got out of training. The vendors were really nice, and it was a common floor for all the scientists to have a good time (and a good meal).

But today? Today the mix of different smells and the chatter that could be heard through the whole floor made him want to run to his room and hide under the covers.

“Well, I’ll be checking some stuff on the upper floors while you get something in your stomachs. I trust your teacher to take care of you, but there’s still an AI watching over you at all times. Something happens, you tell her or someone from the staff, capiche?”

Everyone nodded, eagerly looking around the cafeteria and planning their meal.

“Good! Then I’ll leave you be, see you in 45 minutes, kiddies!”

And with that, he was gone, swallowed by the elevator.

The team pushed some tables together and decided that they’d be eating together. It wasn’t different from their breakfasts at the hotel they stayed at for the duration of the Nationals. In fact, it was oddly familiar.

But Peter wasn’t paying much attention.

He was definitely feeling worse after a day of running around in the Tower. The dizziness had definitely gotten worse, as had his nausea. It was horrible.

His headache was no better. The lights hanging from the ceiling were blinding to his sight, and fireworks danced behind his eyelids whenever he blinked. It had extended from the back of his head to his temples, and now even his ears hurt.

So Peter took to leaning on Ned while MJ let him borrow her sweater again, using it as a pillow (again) and draping one of the sleeves over his eyes in hopes of drowning out the light.

Mr. Harrington was definitely worried by now, as was the rest of his team. Not even Flash had made a comment. A quick peek under the sweater’s sleeve told him it was because his bully was not at the table.

It wasn’t until they all started to bring out their lunches that hell broke loose. Someone (probably Jason) had brought hard-boiled eggs, and the second the smell hit Peter’s nose, he jumped out of his chair and made a run to the bathroom, just in time to toss his cookies in one of the vacant stalls.

His stomach rolled and Peter felt oddly reminiscent of the time he had been stabbed on the abdomen last month. The pain certainly was familiar.

It felt as if an eternity passed before he was finally done, even though he hadn’t even had breakfast to begin with.

Someone knocked on his stall.

“Hey, Parker! You okay in there?”

Peter kicked the door open as best as he could when he recognized Flash’s voice. It wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t think that he’d be able to stand up on his own.

His bully grasped him by the shoulders, flushing the toilet as an afterthought, and helped him off the floor slowly.

“Answer the question, Penis. You okay?”

Awww, would you look at that? He did care.

“Just peachy.” He said, before a wave of dizziness made itself known and he promptly passed out.

“Parker? Hey, Parker! Who gave you the right to pass out?!”

Flash was freaking out, but he knew that Peter needed help, even if he was the worst when it came to actually doing something for Penis Parker.

He carefully adjusted his grip on the smaller boy, and prepared to lift him princess-style so that they could get out of that bathroom as soon as possible. He was expecting his classmate to be a little heavy, what with the muscle he had suddenly grown over the summer four years ago.

He wasn’t expecting him to be as light as a feather.

“Mr. Harrington! Mr. Harrington!” Flash yelled as he came out of the bathroom holding onto Peter.

“Flash what did you do?” Ned asked, as he hovered over his best friend, who was slowly waking up.

“He didn’ do nothin’. Hel’ed me…”

Mr. Harrington took Peter from Flash and helped him sit in one of the benches where they had been having lunch.

“Peter? What happened? Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Just as Peter was about to answer (and he was seeing 7 fingers in only one hand, so that probably wasn’t good), his father stepped out of the elevator and ran to where the team was.

“Pete! What happened?!”

Peter groaned, making grabby hands at MJ’s sweater to block out the light and the sound of people talking all at once.

“M’fineee. Just lost a battle with some eggs…”

Tony laughed, if only to reign in his panic.

“Nope, that’s it. We’re making a trip to the medbay. C’mon Midtown, you’re getting to know where all the Avengers get patched up when they do something stupid.”

He went to pick his son up, and frowned.

Peter made it a habit to fall asleep on movie night, and Tony often had to carry him back to bed. So yeah, he knew that Peter was pretty heavy with all the muscle he packed.

He wasn’t used to carrying his son as easily as he had done when Peter was a kid.

Peter had been four years old when he first came to live with Tony.

The inventor had learned pretty quickly that his son was not what most physicians would call “healthy”. His little boy carried an inhaler around as if it was a necklace, and he knew exactly what medicine Tony should give him when he had a cough.

Peter would frown at the food Tony would give him if it had any kind of seafood or citrus until his dad learned all his food allergies.

His chubby hands would play with LEGOs in the living room, and the baseball and the glove Tony had bought were left forgotten in the back of a closet.

Still, the mechanic had learned to play with Peter and his LEGOs, with his coloring books and with his chemistry set. He learned that Peter didn’t like airplanes, and preferred his food to come to his mouth via a choo choo train.

He also learned that when Peter was sick, reading him stories about Tesla and Einstein would put him right to sleep. That the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling had to be blue and not green, because green gave his kid headaches. That Peter’s Captain America onesie was his favorite and he only wore it after a particularly rough night when his coughing fits wouldn’t let him sleep.

He learned never to watch Bambi or the Lion King when they had a movie night, and that Mulan would put his kid right to sleep.

Still, none of those had worked the night Peter turned five years old.

He remembered it clearly. That night, Rhodey had come to visit his nephew for his birthday, and they had had chocolate cake and a strawberry milkshake for dinner. His kid hadn’t been feeling well that week, so Tony and Rhodes had thought it was for the best to distract him with cake and toy trains and a Disney movie. They had even let him wear his Captain America onesie and have dinner on the couch.

But that night, Peter had woken up his daddy, asking JARVIS to bring him to his room because he wasn’t feeling well. Tony had run to his baby’s room and there he was, tears staining his face and a sweaty forehead that could only mean a fever.

He had gotten Peter out of his onesie, and let him hug the platypus plushie Rhodey had given him for his birthday while he went looking in the medicine cabinet for anything that would help with his fever.

Peter had ended up going back to sleep clutching his plushie in one hand and his dad’s shirt on the other.

It hadn’t lasted through the night, and he had woken up again crying about how his head hurt, and to make it stop, daddy! Hurt bad!

His fever wasn’t going down, and Peter wasn’t keeping down any medicine. His coughs had gotten worse and at one point he had needed to use his inhaler.

That night, Tony panicked.

He couldn’t take his kid to urgent care, or he’d risk paparazzi knowing that he had a son the minute they stepped inside a hospital.

But his baby was crying, and no amount of stories about the theory of relativity were making him feel better.

So Tony held his baby in his arms (and he was so so light) and sat down on the rocking chair Rhodey had given him as a joke. And he sang to his son. He sang every single lullaby in Italian he could remember from when he was a kid himself; and when he ran out of lullabies, he sang Disney songs until Peter finally went to sleep.

“You’re going to be fine, tesoro, you’re going to be just fine. Daddy’s here.”

Peter was not happy at being carried princess-style, and he frowned at his father all the way to the medbay. But Tony didn’t seem to notice, too far gone inside his mind.

Bruce was waiting for them when they got to the medbay, and helped Peter sit down on the table Dr. Cho used to examine him whenever he did something dumb on patrol.

Ned and MJ (and surprisingly, Flash) were right by his side while Bruce went through a routine examination on his nephew. MJ was showing him the sketches she had made of him during the day, and even Peter had to laugh at some of the faces he made when he was sick.

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark-” Mr. Harrington said, wringing his hands nervously, “-I’m required to send Peter to the hospital, or at the very least back home where a guardian can be informed…”

Tony waved him off, though not unkindly.

“It’s fine, teach. Peter’s home, and I’m his dad. You don’t have to worry about school policies.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

Then, Peter groaned, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you actually told them.”

At Tony’s request, the Avengers had come down to the medbay to –according to Tony– entertain their guests until it was time to go home. He bet that the fact that their new tour guides were the Avengers would give those teenagers and their teacher bragging rights for years to come.

Bruce and Tony stayed with Peter while they ran some tests, and Tony had been right in his assumptions. This was no stomach bug.

Someone had actually tried to poison his son.

And he still wasn’t out of the woods.

That evening, after his team had left the Tower and had made him promise that he’d keep them updated in the group chat, Tony went to lay down next to his kid.

Peter had been on and off, waking up from his naps feeling worse and worse until he eventually had to toss his cookies again, before going right back to sleep.

He didn’t wake up until the next morning.

And when he opened his eyes, he saw his dad right beside him, playing with his curls and watching Mulan on his phone.

Peter smiled at him, too out of it to really worry about the fact that he was still sick and that his very scary aunt and uncles were hunting down the guy that had poisoned him two days ago on patrol.

He was, however, very preoccupied by the sight of a familiar hoodie folded neatly at his feet. It smelled like fabric softener and soap, very different from the cologne and motor oil that Peter associated with his dad.

It occurred to him that they had probably needed to wash his hoodie.

So he nudged his dad’s shoulder with his head, and adjusted himself so he could watch Mulan for as long as he could stay awake (which wasn’t very long seeing that his dad was still playing with his hair).

Finally, seconds before he went into dreamland, he murmured into his father’s neck.

“Hey, dad? ‘m sorry ‘bout your hoodie…”

He fell asleep to captain Lee Shang singing I’ll Make a Man Out of You; his dad’s laughter echoing on his ears.

#gift exchange #fic exchange #the friendly neigborhood fic exchange #irondad #spiderson

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marueonmain · 4 years

Text

WINDFLOWER

part seven ~ acting the fool ~

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven)

A/N: I appreciate each of you. Stay safe and stay epic!

Summary: Alex can no longer avoid Y/N and his feelings for her.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Alex Elmslie? A Lovesick Idiot? It’s More Likely Than You Think.

Word Count: 1.4k GIF Credit: internetgylord

Jolting from the grasps of his own vivid imagination, Alex was sickened with the twisted scene and shocked with himself for conjuring it. What am I doing? He looked to his phone – to the photos, he poured over moments before and recoiled at his actions. He closed instagram and shifted around on the bed: embarrassed to be listening as the shouting from above continued.

He needed an excuse to leave his bedroom, or else he might start thinking again – about it – about her. He did not want to start thinking; he had switched off his feelings and did not want them back.

Alex pushed the muffled shouting from his thoughts and rang Will.

“You alright, mate?” Will asked as he did at the start of every phone conversation.

“It’s good. Do you want to film an S2W?” He bit his bottom lip, waiting for an answer, and tasted a little blood. “Will? You there?”

“I’m here. I was thinking it’s a bit odd is all; just that I’m used to having to force you and George into filming reddit videos."

“Fair enough.” Alex winced at a sudden pressure on his browbone and tried shaking his head to relieve the ache: it did not work. “That a no?”

“Not at all. Could always go for some more content on the second channel. I’m giving you fifteen minutes, and if you’re late again, I’ll have to do your knees in.”

As the call ended, the muffled shouting from above stopped dead. Alex paused to listen – nothing. It should have been a good thing, but to him, he wondered (perhaps in another hindsight trick of the mind) if he could hear them again would he not notice there was just one voice doing the shouting; not notice it was just Sammy’s voice the entire time?

He waited, but there was not another sound. Alex pulled on his pink zip-up jacket, tugged on his bright red pringles socks, and raced out of his apartment to the lift. It was ten past when Will told him to be there. But he was not wearing knee guards so he could not have been too worried about it.

DING. Lift doors opened. A woman was waiting there inside. Oh. Oh, of course.

Y/N smiled in a curious delight as her eyes brightened at seeing him.

Something strained the back of Alex’s throat like he was about to cry. He did not care about appearing desperate or pathetic or how the internal embarrassment might crush his self-esteem because it was her: it was her, and she was an experience, unlike anything he had lived before.

Flower earrings decorated her cute ears, and her nails were painted an intense blue. Everything about her tested all facets and all capacities for loveliness – and broke them. Y/N pushed herself forward to stand straight from having been leaning back against the wall of the lift. And she parted her gentle lips to speak. And he did not register a word. And she tried again.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Hey,” his voice cracked.

Entering the lift, he pushed the button for Will’s floor and took a step backwards. He stood frozen, beginning to sweat. Y/N moved to face him at a thirty-degree angle: like there was some imaginary audience whose line of sight into the conversation needed to be kept into consideration.

It was Alex’s turn to lower his gaze while she looked upon his face. The smell of her scented soap struck him hard.

“Those are fun socks. I rate them,” said Y/N.

“Thanks. I like your…um…earrings. Flowers.” Excellent observation. I’m such an idiot.

Y/N blushed. “They're not a little loud?”

“Not at all. So, what have you been doing today?” Alex was not – he told himself – inquiring about the screaming match. It was just a normal question for normal conversation between normal neighbors.

“I made banana bread this morning; I thought not going out wouldn’t be too hard, but I hate it. I’m not sure what I’ll do during the actual enforced lock-down.”

“It’s a rough situation – rough to be around certain people for so long without breaks. Can be a nightmare sometimes, you know?”

Y/N’s face paled considerably. “No. I wouldn’t say that.”

“No, of course. I’m talking about George.”

“Right.” Y/N was not about to share her perspective on the fight between her and Sammy. Maybe she was hoping it was not loud enough for Alex to have heard. “Not going out isn’t that bad really. I might have been exaggerating.”

“Sure. You’ve been keeping yourself busy then, yeah?”

“Yeah. Spent all afternoon looking for movies to download.” She paused. “What’s your favourite movie?”

Alex nodded along as Y/N spoke, and he answered the same answer he gave to anyone asking that question for the last decade, “The Social Network.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that. It has that guy who looks like Michael Cera.”

“Jesse Eisenberg.”

“That’s right.” She snapped her fingers and pointed a finger gun. “Jesse Eisenberg. I liked him in The Double. Oh! I finished a movie that’s been on my watchlist forever: Zodiac with Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“Yes, Gyllenhaal. Red October.”

“Velvet Buzzsaw,” Y/N quipped.

And Alex right back. “Prisoners.”

“Donnie Darko.” She giggled and gave a nervous tug to her earlobe.

Alex remembered ~the dream~ and how the Y/N his unconscious drew together had placed a kiss behind his ear. He never received such a delicate affection. Never thought about how it would feel.

Now here he was caught in a lift with a woman that mesmerized his entire being, and he was not picturing how he wished to or how it might be to sleep with her; he imagined a softer exchange.

Imagined it with such focus that he swore he could almost feel it – a slight warmth behind his ear and an electric shock all over which begged the question: How many small parts of him had always gone so unloved?

“I forgot about Donnie Darko. The villain is a furry, right?”

“Always thought the real antagonist was god.” Bringing her hand to her chin, Y/N tapped her index finger twice against her lips. Pulling her eyebrows together and looking up and off at nothing, in mockery of some deep philosophical thinker.

He matched the pose. “Or is it the very concept of time?”

“It’s that bitch: time!” Y/N burst out in a short laugh at herself.

Alex felt bound to fall into a hypnotic trance, so lost in how her lips moved when she spoke that he almost could not keep up with the conversation.

“Maybe we could watch and figure it out together.” His words burst from him like the first gasp of air after holding his breath underwater. It had been such a sure thing: his resolve that avoiding Y/N would drown his feelings for her, and yet there he was less than seventy-two hours later acting the fool again.

“I would really like that.” Each word she said hit his ears like it was the first time he ever heard them.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but, I’d want to ask Sam beforehand.” Each word she said hit his ears like he was being shot in the head.

“Alright.” A short beat of silence came over them until: “We forgot a big one – Love and Other Drugs.”

“You know your Gyllenhaal.”

“He’s a handsome man.” Alex tipped his head in a subconscious effort to elicit agreement to which he received a nod. “It also has Anne Hathaway in it.”

Y/N beamed. “Oh? I like her a lot.”

“Me too.” I like you a lot. Alex darted his eyes from Y/N and watched the floor numbers turn over.

DING.

“I hope I run into you again soon.” She took a slow step out into the hall but turned in time to throw up a hand in a short wave before disappearing. “Goodbye, Alex.”

“Bye.” He waved contented – how could his affection for Y/N be wrong when it made him feel like this?

Maybe. Maybe. It was not wrong. And maybe…it was time he acted like it.

Alex deserved a chance at happiness – at making Y/N happy.

#imallexx #imallexx imagine #imallexx x reader #alex elmslie #alex elmslie imagine #alex elmslie x reader #internet sensation #eboys #commentary crew #willne

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spine-buster · 5 years

Text

Alone, Together | Chapter 35 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: I just...someone call the Pope.

“First class again?” Bee asked as she looked down at the boarding pass that had just printed out from the kiosk at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport. She readjusted the Louis Vuitton tote bag on her shoulder – the same one that Lucy convinced her to buy all those months ago – and looked up at Morgan quickly.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” Morgan asked, looking down at her. “I mean…really.”

Bee snorted as she took a closer look at the boarding pass in her hand, wondering if she got a window seat again or if she was in an aisle cubby. As she looked at her seat number, a peculiar word caught her eye. “Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think it printed out the wrong boarding pass for us. We might have to go back up to that lady who took our luggage.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan said, his tone not phased at all by the apparent error. Morgan flew all the time – this was probably a common error. Did private team jets still print boarding passes?

“It says the destination is Kelowna instead of Vancouver,” Bee said.

“That’s because the destination is Kelowna.”

For a moment, Bee couldn’t understand the words coming out of Morgan’s mouth. She looked at him like he had three heads, trying to decipher the words. “We…we’re going to Kelowna?” she asked. He nodded. “But…I thought we were going to Vancouver?”

“We are, silly. I’m surprising you with a trip to the Okanagan Valley first, then we’re going to Vancouver,” Morgan was smirking at her.

“The Okanagan Valley? You mean like B.C. wine country?”

“Precisely,” he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Who would I be if I didn’t surprise you with something. And don’t Morgan me.”

She sneered at him playfully. “I wasn’t going to.”

“Sure.”

“But you do…I mean…” she began, wondering if she should even say the words. “You do know we could be staying in a Motel 6 and I’d be happy.”

“Briony,” he said her name in a half-amused, half-warning tone. He leaned down to kiss her again before continuing. “What’d I say about this stuff.”

“I know, but--”

“We are going to have,” kiss, “a very good time,” kiss, “going on winery tours,” kiss, “and watching the sunset,” kiss, “over the Okanagan,” kiss, “and then we’re gonna take a roadtrip,” kiss, “to Vancouver,” kiss, “and watch the sunrise,” kiss, “over the Sunshine Coast,” kiss, “just like last time,” kiss.

Bee couldn’t help but smile at his words. She was also very conscious of the fact that he was kissing her multiple times in the middle of a busy airport. She didn’t used to be that person, but Morgan brought it out of her. She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip before looking up at him. “You’re too good to me,” she mumbled.

“You get what you deserve, Bumblebee,” he winked. “Now let’s go.”

***

When they touched down in Kelowna, they checked in at the Delta Grand Okanagan Resort on the waterfront and changed into workout gear. Morgan wanted to take Bee hiking up the mountain to see the views, and she was more than ready to comply, despite the fact that she knew she was out of shape and would probably have to stop several times along the way up the mountain. She knew the views would be worth it, and if she was a sucker for anything, it was views from mountaintops. Considering she had never been to Kelowna, she thought it the perfect introduction.

They began their hike at the base of Knox Mountain Park, following the trail diligently and making sure to stay on the designated path. There were a lot of hikers out and about due to the beautiful day outside, so there were many quick greetings and many dog pets as they made their way up. About half way up the hike, they happened upon a group of middle-aged people – Bee would say they were probably around Rocco and Clarette’s age – with four golden retrievers between them. Morgan was in absolute heaven. Everybody stopped so the dogs could be pet, and one of the men eventually recognized Morgan, so everyone posed for a group photo. Bee was pulled into it for some reason. The man’s wife was so excited that she pulled Bee in. It was all very nice, but unnecessary for her to be there. She could have at least taken the photo.

When they got to the top of the mountain about twenty minutes later, Bee gasped. There, before her eyes, was Okanagan Lake and the city of Kelowna spread out across the landscape. Though she was out of breath, probably red, and definitely sweating, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the sight before her. The vast expanse before her was almost too much to handle; too beautiful to forget. She focused hard, and long, creating a mental image in her head of the view so that she’d never forget it. She didn’t want this memory to disappear.

It was only when she felt Morgan’s arm wrap around her waist that her trance sort of ended – even then, she couldn’t look at him, too transfixed on finding every little detail to remember. The colour of the trees. The sparkle of the water. The deep blue of the sky. “It’s beautiful, eh?” he asked softly.

“Like…it’s not fair,” she said, causing Morgan to giggle slightly. “I know I said this on the boat that morning in January but you’re so lucky that you got to grow up here. Like, incredibly lucky.”

“I know, Bumblebee. That’s why I want to bring you here all the time,” he admitted. “I want you to love it as much as I do.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally looked up at him. “I already do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just by virtue of the fact that you grew up here. Never mind the views and the scenery and the people – they’re extra. I love it because you love it. Because it’s your home.”

Morgan leaned down to kiss her, not caring about how many people were around possibly watching. Sometimes, Bee had the simplest reasons for things, and for a guy who got stuck in his head too much and came up with overly complicated explanations for things some of the time, it was that simplicity that he needed. I love it because it’s your home. It was the simplest sentiment but one that brought out the best in Bee. She didn’t need anything besides the ground beneath her feet and her favourite people by her side. Everything else was extra. “I love you, you know that?” he whispered against her lips.

“You do?”

He pinched her butt playfully. “Smart ass.”

“Yeah, but you love my ass.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

***

So you’re finally working out. About fucking time, fat ass.

Surprised you’re not off fucking Fred or Tyler for your 15 minutes of fame. But then again, who’d want to fuck someone as desperate as you?

Making Morgan spend money on you again…typical. Bleeding him dry. If you were smart you’d be with Auston bc he has way more money.

All the Toronto girls are talking about you behind your back. I hope you know that. You’re still the biggest social climber ever. You think you’re hot shit but you’re not. And just because your new BFF is Aryne, it doesn’t mean a thing. Everybody can see right through you. When Aryne and Morgan dump you, it’s over for you. You’re already so irrelevant.

Why do u think u can wear tights like that omg u look like a complete whale!

Go drown urself in that lake bitch

“Is everything okay?” Morgan asked as he crawled into bed beside Bee, snuggling up to her automatically as she lay in bed with a lace camisole pyjama set. Bee had sent Angie a quick text to see how Bruce was doing, and Angie was supposed to have sent a video of Bruce back to them. She and Mason were cat and house sitting the apartment while they were away.

“It’s fine,” she sighed. “Just reading the latest messages from my fan club.”

“Fan club?” Morgan asked. When she gave him her phone and he saw the familiar layout of Instagram, he knew immediately what she was talking about and furrowed his brows.

Ur soooooooo desperate for attention

U look like a cheap hooker…like not even an escort. Ur so trash!!!!!

You should learn a thing or two from Lucy and her yoga business. AKA stop leeching off your boyfriend!!!!! You think you’re better than everyone else when you’re not. SAD!

Morgan is stupid to be with you. I don’t understand what he sees in trash like you.

“Bumblebee…you don’t…I can’t…” he couldn’t find the right words to say as he shook his head. “I’ve gotta talk to Steve again…”

“He’s not coming back from Europe for you, Morgan.”

“Briony, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this,” he said sternly, unable to joke about this like she was. “I know how much this affects you, baby. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that they can say whatever they want to you and you have to refrain from saying anything back. That you can’t…that you…” he trailed off.

“That I what?” she asked. She was practically able to see the gears shifting in his head.

“You can’t say anything about it…but what if I did?”

“NO,” she half-screamed, grabbing her phone out of his hand quickly before his thoughts got the best of him. She sat up in the bed and he followed her, sitting up too. “Morgan Frederick Rielly, NO. Don’t you dare. Don’t you – that would make it worse, Morgan. That’s the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with. Could you imagine the media coverage on that? Kyle would blow a gasket, let alone Steve. Shanny might have a stroke.”

“But I want to keep you safe, Bumblebee. I need to keep you safe,” he tried to reason with her.

“Not at the expense of your good reputation with the team and in Toronto and definitely not at the expense of your career,” she said sternly. “Morgan Frederick Rielly, don’t you even think about it.”

“But Briony--”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t understand how you can handle all this. It’s all my fault,” he said.

“It is most definitely not your fault.”

“I feel guilty every day, every fucking time I have to read one of those fucking messages or see you torn up about it. Canada Day wrecked me. To see you like that…Briony, I can’t. How can you be so…how can you handle it? How aren’t you scared ab--”

“Shhhhh…” she said quietly, bringing her finger up to his lips to quiet him. “Because my love for you is greater than my fear of that.”

Morgan took a moment to internalize her words. His chest was heaving slightly, he was a bit agitated, and his mind was set on doing something about it himself if he had to, but all he had to hear was her voice, her smooth, calming voice, and all those feelings washed away. “You…”

“My love for you is greater than my fear of that, or them, or anything they say to me,” she repeated, cradling his face in her hands as she kissed him. “You need to start realizing that. They can say whatever they want, and sometimes it might hurt me, and I might cry about it a little bit, but I’m stronger than that and I’ve been through way worse.”

Morgan sighed heavily. “Bumblebee…”

“Shhhhh…” she shushed him again, her finger on his lips being replaced by her own lips. “They’re all jealous. That’s all it is. Jealously. Jealous that you’re mine and jealous that we’re building a life together. Jealous that I get this giant hunk of man all to myself,” she whispered, kissing him again. “Now…if you don’t mind, I’d like to show this giant hunk of man how grateful I am for him and everything he does.”

“B-Bumblebee…” he mumbled out before she kissed him again.

“Quiet, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan did as he was told. He began kissing her back, softly at first, then with a fervour he reserved only for her, that only she could bring out of him. And when she began kissing along his jawline, climbing on top of his body simultaneously and rubbing her core on his thigh, all his thoughts dissipated completely, replaced with a hunger that he felt only for her. He was insatiable for her. He could never get enough of her. He wanted her always, all the time, constantly, incessantly, persistently. His body ached for hers. It was crazy, he thought, how well they fit together. How their bodies responded to one another instinctually. He wouldn’t be able to find this with anyone else – couldn’t find this with anybody else.

Her took off her lace camisole easily. With her breasts now exposed he took the opportunity to lean forward and take a nipple in her mouth, sucking and teasing and biting down gently. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, and cradled his head in her hands before tugging on the tufts of his hair gently. She took his shirt off easily. Over it went, across the room, and she moved down his body to slip his boxers off slowly.

“Briony…” he managed to mumble out as she stayed there, grabbing his already hard cock in her hands.

“Shhhh,” she shushed him for the umpteenth time that night. She began stroking it and watched as he gulped. “I got you, baby.”

“I d…I don’t want to cum in your mouth,” he mumbled. “Don’t – when I say--”

“Mmkay,” she said quickly, licking the tip of his cock. “Just say the words,” she said in an almost playful tone before dipping down and taking him in her mouth.

He gathered some of her hair in his hand to get it out of her face; he didn’t want his view to be obstructed as she bobbed up and down, his cock disappearing inside her mouth further and further until he felt the head of his cock touch the back of her throat. He closed his eyes momentarily, relishing in the feeling. “Fuck, baby,” he sighed out.

Bee let out a mischievous giggle, her fingernails digging lightly into his thigh. “You like that, don’t you?” she asked as she scratched down slowly. Morgan nodded his head desperately. “You love it when I suck your cock.”

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered out. “Fuuuck Briony, I love it when my cock is down your throat.” He felt her dip down again, her tongue swirling around the tip, licking the pre-cum greedily. “You better start touching yourself,” he told her.

He watched as she slipped a hand down her body and underneath her shorts, wiggling out of them with ease. By now, he was rock hard, and when Bee looked up at him with her big green eyes before she took him in her mouth all the way, hitting the back of her throat again, his hips buckled and he let out a loud groan. She gagged slightly, his movements shoving his cock deeper into her throat, but when he looked at her again, she was already looking at him, a slight smile in her eyes that drove him fucking crazy. “Briony…p-p-please--”

She ignored him, looking away and focusing on her movements instead, and the feeling of his hand tugging at her hair slightly so he could get a better look at her. His grunts and movements gave her the confidence to keep going, to take risks and be as daring as she could. It wasn’t long, though, before Morgan’s breath became heavier, his chest rising and falling with every gasp her took. “B-Briony…”

She moaned on his cock in response, taking him to the back of her throat one more time before her mouth left his cock with a large pop. “I want more of your cock, baby. Just cu--”

“N-No,” he stuttered out.

“Babyyyyy,” she mewled, kissing the tip.

“No. I want…I…get up here,” he huffed out.

“Ba--” she tried again, but Morgan wasn’t having any of it. His hand left her hair as he leaned forward, pulling her up and flipping her onto her back on the bed, his large body immediately over hers as he grabbed at her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. He didn’t wait – there was no time to wait – and entered her quickly, the feeling of her warm walls around his cock causing him to moan out again.

“Holy fuck Mo,” she gasped out, her legs wrapped tightly around his torso so he stayed buried deep inside of her, not allowing him to move just yet. “Fuck baby.”

“Who gets too fill you up, Briony?”

“You, baby.”

“Who?”

“You, Mr. Rielly. Only you get to fill me up,” she pulled his head down to kiss him passionately, lips and tongues everywhere.

Morgan bit down on her bottom lip, dragging it away with him as he straightened out his back and unwrapped her legs from his body. He brought them both together, keeping them over his shoulder as he looked down at her, her body flush with desire. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded her head quickly. “You want my cock buried deep inside of you?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head.

He began moving, slowly at first, her breasts bouncing along every time he thrust into her. He would watch her breasts bouncing like that all night if he could. He progressively kept getting rougher and rougher until he was pounding into her, her moans and cries fuel for him to give her more. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-Yes,” it was her turn to stutter out. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

He could feel the heat inside of him growing. He grabbed at her legs that were over his shoulder and pushed them forward, into her body, changing the angle so he could go even deeper. She let out a string of expletives at the new feeling, her cries out music to his ears. “S’deep babe,” she could barely get the words out.

“You like that?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly. Yes. I love it when you fuck my pussy hard like that.”

“Are you gonna make that pretty pussy cum for me, Briony?”

She could only nod her head as he continued to pound into her, fast and rough and wild, until he felt her walls clench around him and heard her scream out his name over and over again. At the sound of his name escaping her lips so desperately and full of want, he exploded inside of her, leaning further into her so the angle was just right. Bee huffed, trying to catch her breath.

“Stay right there,” Morgan mumbled quickly.

“W…What?” she asked not understanding why he’d say such a thing. Where the fuck was she going to go?

It didn’t take long for her to find out. Two of his fingers slipped into her pussy quickly, causing her to gasp out, and they began moving quickly in and out of her, not allowing her to catch her breath or settle down from her first orgasm. “Mo...” she gasped out, but instead of answering her he licked his way down her body. He was being gentle but rough with his fingers, and she squirmed as she was pinned beneath him. “Mo Mo Mo Mo Mo…” she kept repeating his name as he finally attached his mouth to her clit, lapping and sucking like he was drinking a thick milkshake. “Mo, fuck, please.”

“All mine,” he mumbled against her pussy. “All fucking mine.”

“All yours Mr. Rielly. All yours,” she breathed out, grabbing hold of his hair. Her body gyrated at the sensation and it was too much; in no time, she was cumming again, the sound of her wetness and Morgan’s fingers still moving in and out of her just amplifying it all. He lapped up every last bit before moving back up, squishing her beneath his body as he kissed her.

“I love you Briony,” he mumbled against her lips.

She could taste her juices on his lips as she continued to kiss him. “I love you too baby. So much.”

***

“Wow, Ms. McTavish, you’re a natural!” Chef Michael smiled as Bee began basting the chicken breast cooking in the pan. The chef looked over to Morgan, who had given up a long time ago and chose instead to just watch – Bee had no problem cooking his chicken breast too. “You’re a lucky guy, eh?”

“The luckiest,” Morgan smiled as he watched Bee concentrating on the basting.

“Does she cook a lot at home?”

Morgan nodded his head. “My specialty is grilled cheese and breakfast for dinner. She does everything else.”

Chef Michael focused his attention back to Bee. “Alright Ms. McTavish, we need to let it simmer now. Let’s focus on those broccolini sautéing with the garlic. Think we should add more?”

“You can never have too much garlic.”

Chef Michael looked over at Morgan again. “My kinda girl!”

“I learned some of my cooking skills from an Italian,” Bee continued, stirring up the broccolini. “If a recipe called for two garlic cloves he’d put five.”

“Who are your friends? Your family? I need to meet these people!” Chef Michael exclaimed, so enthusiastic about everything. “Let’s mince some more garlic in there.”

When all was said and done, Bee had perfectly prepared two plates of creamy chicken in a white wine sauce, roasted Japanese sweet potatoes, and sautéed garlic broccolini. It smelled heavenly, and Morgan could tell she was so proud of herself as she fixed her plate with the last of the brocollini, Chef Michael instructing her on how to present everything beautifully. When she finished, he presented them with a bottle of white wine from the winery to have with their meal, uncorking it and pouring it for them.

“You two can bring your dinners out onto the patio with you. Ray will come to clean up the pans and dishes while you eat,” he said.

Morgan nodded but Bee furrowed her brows. “Oh, there’s no need for someone to clean up. We can just do that after.”

Chef Michael paused his movements momentarily. “No no Ms. McTavish, it’s fine. Ray will be in any second with the busser to take everything away.”

“I insist--”

“No ma’am, it’s fine,” Chef Michael stressed. “It’s part of the service. You can just enjoy your meal on the patio. You worked hard on it.”

“Bumblebee,” Morgan said gently. “It’s alright. We can go.”

She looked between Morgan and Chef Michael hesitantly before giving in. “Okay. Um, thank you,” she said, more awkwardly than she would have liked. “Are you positive? Because I can just wash everything after dinner. It’s no big deal.”

Chef Michael let out a laugh. “Go enjoy your meal Ms. McTavish. And have a good night.”

Bee followed Morgan out onto the patio with her plate and wine glass, his own already on the table. She looked back into the room as Morgan closed the sliding door, watching as Chef Michael gathered all the dirty cutlery and utensils and put them all in the sink. She looked to Morgan, who had pulled out her chair for her. “Does that usually happen?” she asked.

“Does what usually happen?”

“People cleaning up after you in these fancy shmancy places,” she clarified, setting her plate and wine down on the table.

“If you request for butler service, yes. But we didn’t get that,” Morgan said, knowing that would be her next question; that she would give him one of her looks if he did. “I think it’s just a part of the service they offer with the chef. I think they figure you’d want to eat right after instead of clean up.”

“It’s a bit…I mean, I can clean up after myself.”

“Not everybody is responsible and sensible like you,” he leaned his head down to kiss her quickly. “Now, let’s eat, shall we? I want to have a romantic dinner with my girlfriend.”

Romantic it was. Morgan couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. The scenery spread out before them was beautiful – just like everything else was in British Columbia – but he could only transfix his eyes on her, watching her as she ate and listening to anything she began talking about – how it was supposed to get cool that night, how Angie had sent her a new video of Bruce with the zoomies, how Mark had texted her that they had made record profits the past month for a particular client of theirs. If her voice were the only thing he heard for the rest of his life, he’d still die a happy man.

When they finished their meal, Bee stacked their plates on top of one another. She brought them into the villa, setting them in the sink before popping her head out the sliding door. “Is there a way you can call so they can come get these plates and not bother us for the rest of the night?” she asked. “I don’t want anyone coming back in. I just want to watch the sunset with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan nodded his head, getting up from his seat. “I’ll call.”

“Good. I’m going to the washroom,” she said, disappearing into the bedroom.

After some time, Ray was back to collect their plates and ask if they wanted anything else taken care of the night. Morgan declined, thanking him, and let him go for the night, making sure to lock the door behind him as Ray left. He found it a bit peculiar that Bee was still in the washroom. He hoped the food didn’t get to her; there’d be some strongly worded complaints if it did.

“Bumblebee? You alright in there?” he called out. He glanced at the screen door quickly to see the sunset in full bloom.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Is Ray gone?”

“Ray’s gone,” Morgan confirmed. “You feeling okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m feeling fine,” she responded, but he could tell her voice was a little off. “Can you…um…can you make sure the door is locked?”

“Already is.”

“Okay. Can you come into the bedroom?”

Morgan furrowed his brows. “Of course,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m fine,” she confirmed, still calling out from the closed washroom. “Just…you know…get comfy. Change into your pyjamas. I’ll be out soon and we’ll go out and watch the sunset.”

Morgan did as she said, stripping himself down and changing into his pyjama bottoms. He sat in the chair, folding the jeans he had been wearing, before the light in the bedroom mysteriously turned off. He looked up, only the light from the sunset peeking through the window. “Bumblebee?” he saw her stand outside the doorway to the washroom.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Good thing you’re already sitting in the chair. Topless, even,” there was a slight laugh in her voice, not answering his question. She turned on the lamp, illuminating the room romantically. He noticed she was wearing a robe. She never wore a robe at home.

“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide as he noticed it was a silk robe, lace trim dangling from the ends of sleeves.

Bee smiled shyly. “Just a little something.”

“Just a little something, huh?” Morgan gave her an up-down, throwing his jeans onto the floor beside him.

“Mhm,” she nodded her head, playing with the tassels that tied the robe together. “You know…I bet all that cooking must have taken a lot out of you,” she winked.

Morgan couldn’t help but giggle slightly. “Oh, it did. I am spent.”

“Well then. Just sit back and let me give you a show,” she smiled devilishly.

“A show?” Morgan asked. Bee nodded her head slightly. “You…you planned something?”

“Is that okay?”

Morgan couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. His body already felt on fire. She had planned something – with that robe on, and whatever else was underneath it – and was asking if it was okay? “Of course baby,” he said softly. “Let me see. Let me see what you’ve planned.”

Standing far away from him, she bent over and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “I trust you.”

“And I trust you. And I love you.”

“Good to know. Because by the end of this I have every intention of you fucking me like you don’t.”

Morgan’s pupils dilated. He gulped nervously. He watched as Bee straightened herself out and took a few steps back, playing again with the tassels on the robe before she started to sway her hips slowly back and forth. She worked on untying the tassels slowly, achingly so, and Morgan could feel himself getting hard with each passing hip sway. Eventually, she pulled, untying the bow and letting it fall, the robe becoming looser. A hint of pink lace peeked its way out of the robe.

“Briony…” Morgan barely made out her name.

“Yeah baby?” she asked in an innocent voice, her fingertips gliding along the edge of the fabric near her chest.

“What…what did you--”

“Shhhh baby,” she cooed, approaching him slowly, seductively. “What did I tell you?”

“But baby--” he tried reaching out to grab the fabric of the robe.

She smacked his hand away quickly. He looked at her in the eye, shocked. “Don’t touch me,” she ordered. “Don’t touch me unless I tell you. Just watch.”

She saw his chest rise and fall dramatically. “Briony--” he tried to grab at her again.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” she stressed, smacking his hand away once more. “Unless you want me to stop. Then you’ll have to take care of that,” she eyed down to the growing bulge in his pants, “all alone.”

There was a fire in her eyes and Morgan knew she meant it. This was completely new – he was completely blind-sided – but he wasn’t exactly complaining. He loved seeing this sort of confidence from Bee. He thought it partly cute, partly evil that she had planned this – masterminded it from the beginning. He nodded his head, agreeing with her. He couldn’t formulate a word. There was no point.

She took a couple of small steps back – far enough so Morgan couldn’t reach out, and far enough so he could get a full body view – and started to pull the robe down her shoulders slowly, letting it fall to the floor dramatically revealing, inch by inch, the blush pink floral lace bralette and garter set, complete with a matching pair of pantyhose.

“Oh my fucking God,” Morgan mumbled in disbelief.

A smile adorned Bee’s face. “Do you like, Mr. Rielly?”

Morgan nodded, beginning to feel an uncomfortable strain in his pants. “Yes,” he nodded his head almost desperately. “Yes. Yes. I love it,” he was a gibbering mess.

“D’you like the colour?”

“Yes.”

“And the lace?”

“Yes.”

“What about the garter? And the pantyhose?”

“I love it all,” the desperation was evident in his voice. “I love it all. Every fucking piece of it.”

“Good,” she bit her bottom lip, running her fingers along the lace of the thong that hung on her hips. She took a step towards him. “So if I came closer…” another step, “and closer,” another step, “and closer,” one final step, “you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

Morgan huffed out a breath. “I don’t…”

“If I put my hand on your chest…” she moved to do exactly that, walking to his side. His head followed her as far as it could until she was behind him. “If my breath grazed the back of your neck…” she moved, again, to do exactly that as she stood behind him, her hand still on his chest as she gave the skin on his neck a quick kiss. She took a few steps so she was standing in front of him again, turning away so her back was towards him, her ass in full view. “If I sat in your lap, would you be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer. She lowered herself onto his lap, swaying her hips back and forth for good measure. She heard Morgan grunt as she did so, absolutely fucking loving that she was getting such a reaction out of him. She felt powerful. Sexy. Sensual. She could feel the erection already in his pants and it made her the most confident she’d ever been.

“Fucking hell, Briony,” Morgan whispered. Like clockwork, it didn’t take long for her to feel his hand on her ass, even if it was just a quick caress.

She rose up quickly and slapped his hand away for a third time. He whined out in protest as she walked away from him, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look at him. “No. Touching.”

“But Briony--”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“NO! No no no,” he shook his head. “Please God no.”

“No more touching. Do you understand me?” she said, her voice seductive but stern. “No. More. Touching.”

“I won’t. I won’t.”

“Promise me,” she demanded.

“I promise. I promise you,” he was desperate, so desperate. “I swear to you, I won’t touch you. Fuck Briony, fuuuuck, I w…I won’t touch you. Not unless you tell me. Just get back here.”

“Not until you beg.”

Morgan whined out again. “Briony. Briony please.”

“Beg.”

Morgan could swear there were tears forming in his eyes. “Please Briony, I promise. I’m begging you. Come back here so I can look at you. Please. Please.”

Briony smiled, biting down on her bottom lip again. “If you touch me without my permission again it’s over. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Morgan nodded his head. “I will. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise. Now please. Please come back here.”

Bee sauntered over to him, bending over so her breasts, covered by the delicate lace, were right in his face. She leaned forward so the material gently grazed against his nose and lips. “Lace is your favourite, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Morgan nodded his head. “You always go crazy for me in lace.”

“You look perfect in it,” his voice was low. “You make it look perfect. Every time.”

She straightened out briefly so she could turn around again, her ass facing him as she sat down on his lap. “You love spanking me too, don’t you.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “Y-Yes,” he stuttered out.

She looked over to see his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles almost completely white. Excellent. “Especially when I’ve been a good girl?”

“I…y…yes,” he huffed out, stuttering again. She watched as his hands shook through the grip he had on the armrests.

“Am I being a good girl right now?” she asked, grinding down against him gently.

“I’d reckon you’re being a bad girl right now.”

Bee let out a giggle, looking at him over her shoulder. “Is that so?”

“You’re being a very bad girl teasing me like this,” he reasoned.

“Whoops,” she rolled her eyes playfully at his answer. “Sorry not sorry.”

“Briony, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need to touch you,” he begged.

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

“Wh – I – please,” he continued to beg. “You don’t understand, Briony.”

“Not yet,” she shook her head. She stood up again to face him, placing her hands on his chest. His eyes were pleading with her, but she didn’t budge. “What do you think of the garter and pantyhose?” she asked again, just to torture him.

“I love it. I love it all,” he said. “It looks so, so sexy. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

Her hands made their way down his chest and over his bulge, settling on his knees as she shifted her weight from one leg to another again and again before flipping her hair in front of him dramatically. She promised him she’d give him a show, so she was going to give him a show. She incorporated her movements into pulling his pants off of him, revealing how rock hard he was. After scratching her nails up and down his thighs, she settled them on his knees once more before spreading his legs open dramatically. Morgan looked at her wide-eyed before she squatted down between his legs, her hips swaying from side to side.

“Jesus fucking Christ Briony,” his voice was frantic as she spun around on her tiptoes, still squatted, before swaying her hips back up into his face. “Briony.”

“You like that?” she ignored his pleading tone, knowing all he wanted was to touch her.

“Yes. Please Briony, can I t--”

“What about when I do this,” she said, spinning around to face him before climbing on to his lap. She flipped her hair in his face again, and began to grind down. His hands left the armrest dramatically, ready to grab her, but with every ounce of will he had left in – which wasn’t much – he balled his hands into fists and kept them away from her. She shoved her chest into his face, her hands on his shoulders and nails digging into his skin.

“Briony – you fucking – you don’t – you can’t--” he muttered out.

“You want to fuck me with this on, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to take it off?”

“No. Keep it on. Keep it all on. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he told her as she grinded down on him again, his cock rubbing up against the fabric of her thong.

She smiled. “That’s what I like to hear, Mr. Rielly.”

“Can I touch you? Please?”

“No.”

“Briiiiiiony.”

“Not. Yet,” she said, arching her back. “Tell me something Morgan,” she began. He gave her cut eye. Her right hand slipped down between their bodies to her hot core. “Do you like it when I touch myself?”

Morgan huffed. “I like it when I touch you better.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how to make you feel good,” he said. “Because I like making you feel good.”

“And when you get to touch me, what are you going to do to me?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She smiled. She grabbed his cock without warning and began to stroke it teasingly. She felt his hips buckle at her touch and knew she had teased and agonized him long enough. She grinded down on his lap one last time, for good measure, feeling just how hard his cock was. “Morgan?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes Briony?”

“Make me be your good girl. Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Morgan was like a man possessed. In what felt like less than a second he grabbed her, picked her up, and threw her on the bed. He climbed onto the bed after her and flipped her over so she was flat onto her stomach, her legs spread apart for him but her ass slightly raised. She arched her neck to look behind her and saw him hovering over her. “You think you can play games like that with me and get away with it?” he asked her, his voice low and coarse and his hands went to the small of her back, pressing down so she stayed laying flat on the bed.

“You liked it, didn’t you Mr. Rielly?” she asked, her voice playfully innocent in tone. “You kept telling me how much you liked it. You begged to keep me close.”

He leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear. “Now I’m gonna make you beg,” he said, watching as her lips curved into a smile.

“Like your good girl?”

“Like my good girl,” he nodded his head. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.”

“You can’t cum until I say so. Understood?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head, feeling his body loom over hers. He was still holding her down so she could barely move. “Mr. Rielly, if I be a good girl will you spank me?”

Morgan laughed mischievously. “We’ll see about that. Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said.

Without warning, he entered her hard and quick, unable to wait any longer. Bee cried out automatically at the feeling – everything from the speed, to the size of his cock, to his holding her down, to the angle that he entered her, made him go so deep that she swore she could already see stars. He didn’t start slow either; he was desperate and needy and didn’t have time for any of that, so he rocked into her hard and fast. She screamed out in pleasure over and over again, savouring the feeling. He was being a bit rougher with her than normal, but she loved every second of it. She wanted it. She had asked for it, and he had complied. He was doing exactly what she wanted him to do, and they had the trust in each other to do this.

The way he was holding her lower back down, keeping her in place, meant the angle was deep – and with the force he kept pounding into her with, she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long. But just as he complied – as best he could, he did slip up twice – to her rule of ‘no touching’, she knew she would have to comply to his rules now too. “Mr. Rielly,” she said between her screams and moans, “Mr. Rielly it’s so deep.”

“You like it when it’s deep like that, huh?” he asked.

“Your cock is so big and it always goes so deep,” she said, knowing it would stroke his ego. “Can you spank me, please?”

She heard Morgan huff out a laugh, barely missing a beat as he continued to fuck her. “No.”

“But Mr. Rielly--”

“No.”

“Please Mr. Rielly, I want to be spanked so bad.”

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet,” he threw her own words back at her. She almost regretted the decision to use that language when she was teasing him – almost. But there was no way she could ever regret anything that brought her so much pleasure. “You have to beg, remember?”

Morgan could hear her whimper. “Pleeeease Mr. Rielly. Please spank me.”

She felt one of his hands leave the grip he had on her lower back and she prepared herself. Instead, she felt him grab her hair and tug her towards him, so her back was flush against his chest momentarily. His hand snaked around and went to her clit, and he bit down on the skin of her neck before moving up to her ear. “Beg.”

“Please Mr. Rielly,” she was practically on the verge of tears. “Please please please, I’m begging you to spank me.”

“If I spank you are you gonna cum?”

“No,” she answered automatically, shaking her head slightly. “Not until you tell me to.”

He smiled, a throaty laugh escaping him. “That’s right. That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing her back down so she was flush against the bed again. With one hand on her lower back holding her down, the other hand spanked her ass. She let out a cry of pleasure, and with another spank, another cry.

“Harder,” she mewled out

“Harder?”

“Fuck me harder, Mr. Rielly. Spank me harder.”

Her spanked her again, red marks already appearing on her ass from before. He rubbed the area gently before spanking it one more time. “You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, not bothering to hide how close she was. “I want to cum so bad.”

“If I spank you again will you cum?” he asked. Bee nodded her head. “Then no.”

“No, please,” Bee cried out. “I can’t – I won’t--”

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” he practically growled out, holding her down again with both hands now.

Bee didn’t answer automatically this time. She was trying to regain composure, trying to regain whatever semblance of sanity she had left in her body. “Y-Yes…” she whispered, barely audible.

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” Morgan asked, louder to insinuate how loud he wanted her to be.

“Yes,” she said aloud.

“Like my good girl?”

“Yes!” she screamed out. “Like your good girl. Always your good girl, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan continued pounding into her for a while, even harder than before. Bee’s cries became louder, as did the sound of cock throbbing in and out of her hot core. With the prelude leading up to this, the dirty talk, the sound of Bee’s moans and cries, and the fact that he probably could have cum while sitting in that God forsaken chair if Bee had grinded down on him just one more time, he was surprised to have lasted this long anyway. He could feel his body getting flushed and hot and knew he was close.

“Are you ready for my cum, Briony?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Rielly,” her voice was coarse from all the noise she was making. “I’m always ready for your cum. Always.”

He spanked her again a few more times for good measure, getting some more desperate cries out of her, before tugging her hair one last time to bring her back against his chest. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he cooed as he gave her a sloppy kiss.

“I love it when it’s like this,” she managed to get out through hooded eyes and desperate whispers. “I love it when I’m your good girl. When you take me from behind. When you fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

“You like me fucking you hard and fast?”

She nodded her head. “I love it so much Mr. Rielly.”

He snaked a hand around her body and began rubbing circles on her clit. “You ready to cum, Briony?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please.”

“When I spank you I want you to cum,” he instructed her. “And I don’t want you to stop. Understood?”

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes,” she said in hushed whispers.

Bee waited a few moments, and when she didn’t feel the hard smack on her ass she whined. She waited for another few moments – and still nothing. She was desperate. She was going to kill him. She was going to cum any second. “Mr. Ri--”

Smack!

She cried out, loud, her orgasm pulsating through her like a tidal wave, her entire body shaking and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Morgan continued to pound in and out of her with his throbbing cock, while his hand continued to rub at her clit, giving her orgasm after orgasm, over stimulating her just how she liked it. After what felt like a million of them – a million different orgasms, a million different cries, a million different moans and desperate shouts of his name – she finally, finally, felt his hot cum pour into her, filling her up as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her. She felt his body shake against hers, his own moans and desperate calls out of her name filling the air as they rode out their orgasms together, clinging on to one another.

Bee swore she could still feel an orgasm ride through her entire body as he pulled out, the both of them collapsing on the bed trying to catch their breath. Her core was still so hot and sensitive as she curled up in Morgan’s arms, both their bodies hot and glistening with sweat. She was surprised the lingerie made it through – that Morgan didn’t rip it off half way through or take it off with his teeth or something. She was glad it got this reaction out of him.

“Bumblebee…” she heard Morgan’s voice, barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else but you.”

She smiled, curling further into his body. “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else either,” she responded, reaching down below their bodies to grab hold of his cock. “Thank you for indulging me. For giving me exactly what I wanted.”

“I love you so much,” he mumbled, feeling her put his softening cock at her core again, the heat still so comforting. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

***

Bee was a bit sad to leave Kelowna and the Okanagan area, after having experienced its beauty, great weather, and lovely people, but she had to remember she had Connor, Andy, and Shirley Rielly waiting for her on the other side, eagerly anticipating her presence in Vancouver for the second time that year. Earlier that morning, she and Morgan had checked out of Hester Creek Winery, where they had been staying for the past three nights, and loaded everything into their rental car for their five hour road trip to Vancouver. After a last minute stock up of the wine from the winery, and a very last minute stop at Tim Horton’s for some coffee and snacks to sustain themselves (like good Canadians) they were on their way, the GPS system directing them where to go.

“You tell me anytime you want to stop to take pictures,” Morgan said as they took the on-ramp onto the highway. “It’s going to be a pretty scenic route. Especially when we drive through the provincial park.”

“I will,” Bee smiled, stuffing a Timbit into her mouth before feeing Morgan one. “I’ll try not to stop too much. I don’t want this trip to take eight hours.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan shook his head. “You just tell me whenever you want to stop. We can take ten hours. It doesn’t matter.”

“Your parents are expecting us for dinner.”

“We’ll call them and tell them there’s traffic,” he said, his mouth still full with the Timbit. He winked at Bee as she gave him one of her looks.

Morgan reached over the console and grabbed her thigh, exposed thanks to the pretty sundress she was wearing, squeezing it gently as the road opened before them. It was there for a while, as they continued to drive on the open road, occasionally squeezing and massaging her skin before it crept higher and higher, getting dangerously close to her core.

“Keep your eyes on the road, you perv,” Bee placed her hand above Morgan’s to stop it from going any higher. If it did, she knew he’d probably swerve off the road.

“I am keeping my eyes on the road,” he reasoned. “My mind, on the other hand, isn’t on the road.”

Bee snorted, shaking her head playfully. “You want to fuck me in this rental car, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

She couldn’t help but snort. At least he was being honest. “Why’re you so horny all the time?” she giggled.

“You make me.”

“If you keep it up we’re gonna end up having ten kids.”

There was a silence between the two. It wasn’t awkward, or charged, or because either was tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say. It was just…a silence. A comfortable silence, the road of the car on the road filling the void, until Morgan spoke first. “We’re not having ten kids.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile. “No. Definitely not. I’m not doing that to my vagina. We’re not the Duggars.”

“Two or three is good,” he said.

Bee nodded her head in agreement. “Two or three. One of each. Whatever happens first.”

Morgan took his eyes off the road to look at her. She noticed his smile. How he was looking at her; like he’d just laid eyes on the image of perfection. “Yeah. You…you’ve thought about it, then?”

Bee nodded her head. If she thought about the wedding, and establishing a life together, there was no way she didn’t think about kids either. “Of course. You know I want kids.”

“I know. But like…”

“I want kids with you, if that was going to be your next question,” she said. “I mean, there’s no question. It’s you. I’m not having anybody else’s kids. I’m having your kids,” she stressed.

“Okay,” he said, unable to contain the smile on his face. “I uh…yeah. Okay.”

“Tongue tied, are we?”

“No,” he kept trying to contain his smile. “Not at all. Just glad you’ve thought about it too. That’s all.”

“I know…I know you’ve always initiated these conversations in the past,” she said, thinking out loud at this point. “Whether drunk or tipsy or not. But I think about this stuff do. I do love you more than I can describe with words. I just…I think because of my background, because what I’ve been through, I’m a bit less open about it. Because my mom never wanted to hear it when I was a young kid, and because I never really loved her later on growing up. But I do love you. And like…I want everything with you. A life. A house. Children. I may not vocalize it, but I do. And I don’t picture myself having all those things with anybody else. I only want it with you.”

Morgan flipped his hand so he could hold hers and bring it across to his lips so he could kiss it and hold it across his chest. “I only want it with you too,” he said, his lips rubbing against her hand. “I’ve only ever wanted it with you. And I want to give you all that.”

“I want to give it to you too. This is a relationship. A partnership. We can give each other these things,” Bee clarified.

“Yeah. You’re right. That’s what I meant,” he nodded his head again, correcting himself. “We can give each other these things. A life. A house. Children. But not for a while – children, anyway. We…we’re already building a life together.”

“We are.”

“Everything else will come in time,” Morgan said confidently. “I’m just…I know I’ve told you this before, but I thank my lucky stars every single day that it’s you in this life with me.”

Bee smiled again, unable to keep her eyes off of him. “And I thank my lucky stars you sent a mojito to my table.”

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