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kar-krashew · 3 years

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you that i lie with [AO3]

Magnus is a private investigator, and Alec is a master thief. Obviously, they fall in love.

Rated T

Shoutout to @peachygos, @rainyhuman, and @arsenic-creator <3

Magnus sighs as he flicks through the file in his hand for what’s possibly the tenth time today, skimming over each page once again in a desperate attempt to find new information, new leads, new anything— as long as it’s something that will help the case. If Ragnor was here, he’d probably say something about the definition of insanity and doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results, and then Magnus would say something about shutting up, Ragnor, and the other would then laugh and hand the file over to him anyway. Besides, Magnus didn’t become a private investigator just to ignore his gut feeling, and he definitely didn’t become one to listen to other people. So he’s here now, hunched over his desk, sorting through pages that he can practically recite by heart.

By the eleventh pass, he’s starting to think Ragnor would’ve been right. Dammit, Magnus is never going to hear the end of this.

“Goddamned Morgensterns,” he swears under his breath. If only he’d turned Jocelyn down all those years ago, when she’d shown up at his doorstep with her little girl and begged for help. If only he’d told her no, then he wouldn’t be caught up between their murderous family feud, watching as the people around him die because he wasn’t able to connect the dots or find a clue fast enough.

God, who is he kidding? He never would’ve said no.

Magnus Bane saves people; it’s one of the worst things about him.

Fuck, he thinks, fuck. Curse his fucking hero complex, curse his fucking job, curse the day he tried helping Clarissa Fairchild. He’s always known it would come back to bite him in the ass.

Magnus exhales, and closes his eyes. Just one more time; he’s sure he’ll find something. He’ll look through the file one more time, and then call it a day. Whatever he finds, he’ll roll with it. Just one more time, he repeats to himself, which is exactly when his fingers stumble upon a slip of paper stuck in between the creases of an old newspaper clipping.

Hotel Dumont, the note reads, L.

“Oh,” Magnus says. His heart flutters as his eyes pass over the three words, once, twice, thrice, committing the messy scrawl to memory until it’s been imprinted behind his eyelids.

Hotel Dumont.

He knew there was something of use in that file. He’s never going to let Ragnor hear the end of this.

The newspaper clipping that Magnus had found the note in was one detailing the illustrious career of Alexander Gideon Lightwood: former heir to the Lightwood fortune, now known amongst the upper class as the city’s most notorious thief. While there are quite a few fantastical urban legends about him, the most popular is that most of his “earnings” go to those in need, while another common one claims that he’s got a particular soft spot for detectives in gold eyeliner. Whatever you believe, it’s obvious he’s a terrible choice for a friend, partner, or anything really; he’s dangerous, reckless, untrustworthy, and Magnus is pretty sure he’s halfway in love with the guy.

“The man is a criminal, Magnus,” Raphael says at the front desk, frowning even as he hands over a room key. He leans over the desk and grabs Magnus’s hand. “Look, just don’t do anything stupid.”

Magnus accepts the key with a flourish and flashes a smile. “When have I ever, darling?” he winks, then abruptly turns around and walks down the line of doors before Raphael can respond.

They both know the answer to that question; especially when it comes to Alec.

He takes a deep breath as he approaches the room. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He just has to hear out whatever Alexander has to say, speak his own piece, and then they’ll split ways, never to cross paths again. It’s a simple plan, and all he has to do to get it over with is open the door.

All he has to do is open—

“Planning to just stare at that key all day, Detective Bane, or are you going to come in anytime soon?” a voice says, and Magnus jolts backwards in surprise before looking up, because he’d know that voice anywhere, and oh, it’s Alexander, standing in front of him with his pale skin and warm eyes and smiling, and Magnus missed him so much, he wants to kiss his face senseless, he’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s—

He’s—

Alec is. . . well, he’s, uh—

“Are you naked?”

Alexander rolls his eyes and opens the door to reveal that he isn’t, in fact, naked; but that isn’t to say that he’s not very close to it, with nothing covering his body other than a towel draped loosely around his hips, riding far too low for it to be doing anything in terms of modesty. In fact, it’s doing the opposite, really, and Magnus is finding it increasingly difficult to look at something that isn’t Alec’s chest.

Oh, god.

“Ah,” Magnus says after a long moment. Alec smiles knowingly and leans against the doorframe, which is not helping, Jesus Christ. “Well! You seem otherwise preoccupied. I’ll just, ahem, I can always come back at a more opportune time.”

He’s just about to pivot on his heel and vow to never return here again when a hand shoots out and grabs his arm, pulling him closer to the man in front of him. This close, he can see the small scar on Alec’s chin, the flecks of green in his eyes, the stray hairs sticking out behind his ear, and his breath hitches as Alexander brings his mouth even closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I was expecting you,” Alec murmurs, voice low and honey-sweet. “You just caught me right after a shower. Come in, I’ll get dressed.” He smiles when Magnus nods dumbly, then turns to head back in the room, treating the other to a full view of his bare shoulders as he moves.

Magnus swallows. He has a horrible feeling that he’s not going to survive this.

“So, Mr. Bane,” Alec starts once they’re inside. He hands Magnus a bottle of wine with a grin, and gestures to two glasses set up on a side table before he turns away. “What brings you here?” He fiddles with the hem of his towel teasingly as he walks towards a dressing screen set up in the corner of the room, and Magnus’s mouth goes dry with the implication of the movement.

No. He’s not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it. He is not thinking about it—

—and Alexander drops his towel to the floor before stepping behind the screen. Oh my god, Magnus is way too fucking sober for this. He’s going to die here, and it’s going to be Alec’s and Alec’s ass’s fault.

Fuck. He’s getting sidetracked.

“I got your message,” Magnus finally replies, coughing awkwardly and shifting his attention to the bottle in his hand. He pops open the cork as Alec hums from behind the partition.

“I didn’t think you’d come, even if you did find the note,” he calls across the room. “I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me you’ve solved the case I gave you earlier.”

Oh, right: Hodge Starkweather, missing persons case. Magnus had received a mysteriously blank envelope in the mail just a few days prior, containing nothing but a picture of the man, the name “Starkweather,” and an “L.” scrawled across the back; Ragnor had found the message pretty much immediately, and made Magnus swear he wouldn’t take the case.

Not that it helped.

“I did find your man, actually,” Magnus says, taking a deep breath. “He’s dead.” The shuffling from behind him stops abruptly.

“Oh.” Another moment passes. Magnus quietly pours wine into the glasses in front of him until he hears Alec clear his throat. “Alright, well, if this isn’t a business visit, what is it?”

“It’s an Alexander-please-leave-this-city-before-I-find-you-dead-in-a-ditch-somewhere visit,” Magnus replies, which makes Alec laugh as he steps out from behind the partition in tight black pants and a button-down shirt.

(Most assume he’d have more lavish tastes with the amount of money he’s acquired, but Magnus has always liked this toned-down version of him. Alec looks young like this, unaffected by the troubles that have touched him, like there’s a bit of foolishness and hope in him that the horrible world outside can never take away.)

“Well, that makes this a social visit, then,” he grins lopsidedly, in that way that makes Magnus want to reach out and touch his mouth with his fingertips, holding out a glass of wine in offering. “Do you really think I can’t take care of myself? This is hardly the first death threat I’ve faced, you know that.”

God, he’s so unbothered and careless about this— doesn’t he fucking get it? “This is different,” Magnus insists. “Please, Alexander, listen to me. Leave. Leave before they can find you,” he begs, but Alec stays unbothered.

“Magnus, it’s fine. Calm down, I’ll be okay.” He rolls his eyes when Magnus frowns, and holds his hand out further. “Have a drink, you’ll feel better,” he says, in a move that’s meant to be reassuring and Magnus just— he snaps.

“Fuck your drink!” he shouts, shoving Alec’s hand to the side. Liquid sloshes over the rim of the glass, staining the carpet, and Raphael’s going to throw a tantrum over it tomorrow and glare at him the whole time, but Magnus doesn’t care, he can’t care, not with so many more important things at stake right now, things that Alexander doesn’t seem to care about at all. “Your life is on the line! Your Robin Hood routine has worked great these past few years, but it won’t mean anything if you’re dead tomorrow, Alexander! I know you’re not afraid, but what if I am? I can’t—” He cuts off with a strangled sound and looks away.

“I can’t— I won’t be able to handle finding you like the others,” he murmurs.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, he wasn’t supposed to say that, it’s too honest, it’s too vulnerable, too open, and now Alec is staring at him, probably getting ready to laugh at him or tell him he cares too much or that he’s insane, and God, that’s always it, isn’t it? He’s always cared too much, and now he’s going to lose the one person who didn’t know that yet, who he hadn’t scared off with all of his stupid fucking baggage, because he messed it up, like he always does with everyone.

“Magnus,” Alec says.

Magnus’s mouth tightens as he continues to avoid eye contact. “Magnus, hey, look at me.” Gentle fingers cradle his chin, tilting his face upwards until his gaze meets Alec’s. There’s a warmth there that Magnus hadn’t expected to see, and it’s startling in how tender it is. Magnus has half a mind to look away again.

“You’ve always saved people,” Alec says softly, still holding Magnus’s jaw. “I’ve always loved that about you. But who saves you?”

Magnus blinks. “What?” he says, but Alexander shakes his head before he’s leaning in slowly, shifting his hand to cup Magnus’s cheek, and oh.

Something dislodges in Magnus’s stomach as he takes it all in: the softness of Alexander’s lips, the emotion he pours into each breath, the gentle exhale he lets out before pressing his mouth against Magnus’s again. It all feels like coming home, like his world’s been tilted on an axis his whole life and it’s finally clicked back into place with the gentle press of Alec’s lips on his.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers. They’re still close enough that he can feel Alec’s errant little smile against the bridge of his upper lip, both of them unwilling to part further than necessary to breathe, and he reaches out to clutch at his shoulders when the other man leans in for a another small kiss, this one indulgent and sweet.

“If I leave,” Alec says, brushing his nose against Magnus’s, “I can’t save you.” He brings his other hand up to trace Magnus’s lower lip with his thumb. “You need someone to save you, Magnus. The same way you do with others.”

Magnus inhales shakily. “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I know you’re somewhere safe,” he replies, but Alexander shakes his head again.

“You won’t. And I can’t leave you here,” he murmurs. He presses their foreheads together and runs his hand against Magnus’s cheek. “Let me help you, for once.”

Magnus sighs. He thinks about the people he’s lost in these few weeks, the guilt that’s been eating him alive from the inside-out everytime he thinks about them, but he knows Alec won’t leave, the same way Magnus wouldn’t have left if the roles were reversed. They’ve always been like that: looking out for each other. Saving each other. Magnus was foolish to think Alexander would leave now.

“Okay,” he says, and Alec’s face lights up. “Okay.”

“Good.”

He intertwines their fingers, and they stand there for a moment, breathing each other in, until Alec’s smile turns playful. “Now, I had this super sexy plan that involved a lot more of that towel to seduce you into that bed there, just because it seemed like the sort of thing to do,” he says, “but what do you say we just take a nap?”

Magnus laughs. They both don’t have time for things like naps, they both have things to do, entire worlds to attend to, but then he looks back up at Alec and thinks: their worlds can wait for one day. They can have this.

“Yes,” he replies, “That sounds lovely.” He takes Alec’s hand, letting him lead him to the bed, and settles into the sheets, curling his body towards the other as he does so.

“This was a horrible idea. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep when I know you’re here,” Alec whispers after a moment. “I never want to look away.” Magnus smiles, trying to keep the mood light despite the way his breath catches.

“You’re a sap.” He leans in to steal another kiss, and grins. “Also, for the record, I wouldn’t be opposed to the seduction plan later,” he adds, which prompts Alexander to snort loudly even as his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement.

“Good to know,” he says. “Good to know.”

They’ll probably discuss that more thoroughly tomorrow. For now, they sleep.

#my writing #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #idk what to tag in here aksdj

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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Chapter Seven: Spencerspective

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,512

MASTERLIST

Spencer didn’t fall asleep for hours. He tried not to keep watching the door, but keeping Y/N safe was more important than rest.

If you're exhausted tomorrow how are you supposed to protect her?

Finally, with that thought in his mind, he let himself succumb to slumber, which was surprisingly easy with Y/N cuddled against him.

After a night of horrible dreams and tossing and turning, he woke up to the wonderful smell of shampoo and flowers. Following his nose and breathing deeply, eyes still closed, he found himself suddenly with a face full of hair.

Spencer yanked back, eyes blowing open.

No. No. No.

It all came back in a rush. She’d gotten closer to him, holding him tighter than anyone had in a long time. And he hadn’t resisted. He’d given in to her so quickly.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. He did. Too much. His job was to protect her, not fall in . . . fall for her. Plus, it was taking advantage. She was only getting close to him because he was protecting her. It was a whole reverse Florence Nightingale situation. If they’d met anywhere else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

But now, with her back pressed up against him — a little too much — how could he resist.

He had to. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He was just going to slip out of bed and go back to the floor. Without waking her up. Easy.

“Mm,” she moaned, stretching her spine and snuggling against him tighter.

Oh no. There was no way he could sneak away with one of his arms under her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Not without waking her up.

How had he even gotten into this position? Looking back, it was his fault for pointing out just how large her bed truly was.

Wiggling a bit, she pulled a pillow closer, pushing herself even closer to him.

Now another problem was . . . rising. Literally.

It was a no-win situation. He could slip out of bed, almost definitely waking her up resulting in a potentially huge misunderstanding. Or, she’d wake up before he could leave the bed and certainly feel his. . . .

He had to get up.

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her waist and slipped the other one out from under her head, placing it softly back on the pillow.

Her whimper at the loss of his warmth was like a dagger through the heart. More than anything, he wished he could jump back in bed with her and comfort her, holding her how he’d wanted to last night. How he’d found himself holding her this morning.

Why are you so crazy for this girl?! You barely know her!

“Spencer?” even with hours of sleep, her voice was still so melodic. If he weren’t so cold without her against him, he would have melted.

“Hey,” he said softly — too softly, get it together, Spencer!

“Is everything okay?” she rubbed her eyes sleepily, adorably.

“Yeah, yeah, I just, um, had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Nearly 1:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

She sat up and blinked, looking at the space on the bed where Spencer had been.

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“What do you want to do today?” He tried to say it casually like he cared more about what they’d do rather than what she wanted to do. It was unclear if that had come across.

“I don’t know,” she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I kinda wanna go out?”

Spencer froze.

“Go out? Like on a . . .” he trailed off.

“Like a date,” she mumbled, then, quickly: “As a cover, of course. I just think it might be a good distraction.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head fervently.

“It’s too dangerous. In fact, nightclubs are responsible for about 60 percent of rapes and 20 percent of murders. It’s the perfect place to commit most crimes. No one is paying any attention and—“

“Spencer!” she interrupted, “I didn’t mean a nightclub. I mean, seeing you dance sounds amazing but that’s not really my scene. What about like a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

He considered it. Respectable restaurants had professional waiters, unlike nightclubs; better security; and, best of all, they were more spaced out, meaning less opportunity for a stranger to get close. He’d have to be on high alert, though.

“I know a great place nearby,” she spoke up, breaking his train of thought.

“I don’t know. . . .” he said, still wary.

“It’s walking distance.”

His mistake was meeting her eyes. She looked so hopeful, so helpless. Oh god, there was a hint of puppy dog eyes. How could he resist?

Seriously, how?

“Okay,” he said, giving in as she let out a little squeak of happiness, heart warming at the sound. “But at the slightest danger, we leave.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And no alcohol.”

She hesitated for a split second, then sighed.

“Yes, okay.”

“And no dancing,” he added, sliding into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open.

“WHAT!?”

“Hey, it’s almost seven.”

Spencer and Y/N had been slumped on the couch for hours watching old episodes of Doctor Who and arguing about the science of time travel.

“Time doesn’t work that way! It’s like a line.”

“But what if you went back and changed something?”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that because it would have already happened. Like if you in the future traveled to right now, it would happen right now, but since you didn’t just now, then it doesn’t happen in the future. It’s the rules of physics.”

She’d scoffed at that.

“Maybe time doesn’t follow the rules of physics.”

“Okay, speaking as a certified genius with a Ph.D. in Chemistry, you are on dangerous grounds.”

And then she’d thrown a pillow at him, the both of them descending into giggles.

Spencer had almost forgotten why he was there. Why he was really there.

“Oh, yeah. Should we go?”

Y/N laughed derisively, gesturing to her t-shirt and pajama shorts.

“Not like this. Gimme fifteen minutes.”

She jumped up and ran to her bedroom, closing the door.

“Door open!” Spencer reminded her.

She stuck her head out and blew a raspberry but she did leave the door slightly ajar. Not enough that he could see what she was doing, just enough to know that she was safe.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through his bags, trying to find something appropriate to wear. Everything he had was either too casual or way too casual.

Finally settling on a cornflower blue dress shirt, a grey sweater to wear over it, dark slacks, and a jet black tie, he stood, waiting by the door and fidgeting with his sweater so it covered his revolver. He knew it made her nervous and didn’t want to put any stress on her that could be avoided.

The door to her room opened and Spencer’s head shot up. His jaw practically dropped.

Sure, her outfit was dazzling, small sparkly black heels, a short swishy blue dress that was both casual and classy (and happened to match his shirt), and long dangly earrings with little clocks on the ends, but what really got him was the way she was looking at him. Expectantly, patiently.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“You look . . .” he tried so hard to think of a compliment that expressed his awe while remaining professional. “Stunning.”

A smile lit up her face and Spencer’s heart soared.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, adjusting his tie.

The contact made him jump.

“Ahem, shall we?” he opened the door and held out his elbow for her to take.

“We shall.”

So she took his arm and they set off into the night, locking the door securely behind them.

An hour later, they walked up outside a small bistro, Spencer slightly out of breath.

“When you said walking distance. . . .”

“Three miles is walking distance!” she said defensively.

“For superman!”

“Oh come on! You’re in the FBI, I'm sure you do your fair share of chasing bad guys.”

“I’m an FBI profiler. And while I do enjoy the occasional walk through the park, exercise isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he explained, gesturing to his lanky body.

“Suppose not. Then again, I saw the way you ran after that blue car. I know you’ve got some hidden muscles under all that . . . dork.”

He feigned offense at her remark.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I am a nerd. Very big difference.”

“Mm-hmm. Something only a dork would know,” she laughed, booping his nose and walking into the restaurant, Spencer taking a moment to be shocked before following her.

They got a nice table by the window at her request. It seemed she knew the waiter, calling him by his name and exchanging a brief greeting, introducing Spencer as Doctor Reid.

“Have you been here a lot?”

“No, never, but the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

Spencer laughed softly.

Okay, so she’s never been here before, meaning she’s never been here before with a guy, meaning she wanted to take you somewhere special. Meaning she likes y—

“Stop it!” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth.

“Hmm?”

Spencer blushed.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering about what to order. I don’t really go to a lot of restaurants, to be honest.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly at him and Spencer found himself smiling back.

“Ready to order, Doctor Reid?” The waiter said, smiling.

“Ladies first,” Spencer said, relishing in the way Y/N smiled at him. This would be a long night.

“ . . . and the whole point of his writing is to experience a whole new idea of life!”

“Did you even read Walden?”

After the food came, a chicken empanada for Spencer and a bowl of pasta for Y/N, the conversation had somehow shifted to a heated discussion of what Henry David Thoreau’s ideals were.

“I’ve read . . . parts.”

Spencer gave her a doubtful look and she sighed.

“I’ve read the Sparknotes.”

“Exactly! His point is to go live in the forest to achieve inner peace. The problem is, as humans, we need society and interactions with others in order to function. I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

“Well, maybe he just picked the wrong forest. Like, I couldn’t relax in the Forbidden Forest. It’s all about location.”

“Forbidden Forest?”

“Like from Harry Potter.”

Spencer glanced away.

“You’ve never read Harry Potter?” she said incredulously.

“Nope,” he blushed. “I’ve always preferred—“

“Oh god, please don’t say Twilight.”

“Nooo,” Spencer chuckled, “I was gonna say I prefer Doyle’s works.”

“Oh, I love Doyle!” she said happily. “Everybody always talks about Sherlock Holmes but have you read The Narrative of John Smith? It’s definitely some of his best work.”

Spencer’s mind went haywire. She had brought up his favorite book of all time in casual conversation. Who was this girl?

“Spencer?”

He snapped out of his daydream and looked at the woman in front of him. She was working on two doctorates, she loved Doyle and Doctor Who, she owned a goddamn bookstore, and she walked almost everywhere. How was he not supposed to fall for her?

“Spencer?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.”

The waiter came up and placed the check next to him.

“For the gentleman.”

Avoiding eye-contact, Spencer took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey!” she swatted his hands away, making him drop his wallet into his lap. “We‘re not leaving yet! What’s the rush?”

This relaxed him a little. His nerves were starting to get to him. C’mon, Spencer, you’re a professional. Get it together.

“There’s no rush!” he quickly recovered. “I was simply checking to see if I had the adequate resources for the evening,” he smiled widely, waggling his eyebrows. But she had frozen, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?” she breathed.

Spencer cocked his head, not understanding her confusion. He was clearly reaching into his wallet for a surprise. What other resources did people keep in their walle—

Then it hit him.

“Oh! Oh, no I meant. . .” he fumbled with his wallet, trying desperately to pull out—

“This!” a shiny golden key. “I, uh, have a surprise planned.” It was extremely hard not to blush, and he was even less sure he was succeeding.

But, upon seeing her face contort into one of excitement, he was reassured.

“Okay! What are you waiting for? Let’s go now!”

And she jumped up, leaving the appropriate change in the check.

“C’mon!” Spencer was about to protest her paying, but she was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat, out of the restaurant.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you, here!” he protested, stopping her just outside the door.

“Fine, lead the way, Doctor,” she giggled, bowing deeply.

Spencer curtseyed and walked off in the direction they had come, his woman on his arm.

A woman, he corrected himself. Not his.

“So,” Y/N said after a while of walking, “Where are you taking me?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Ha. You know, statistically, around eighty percent of people who say that, secretly love them.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she spun around and started to walk backward, maintaining eye contact, “but I’m not exactly a person that most statistics apply to.”

“So you don’t like surprises?”

She frowned.

“Touché.”

Spencer laughed as she spun back around, walking next to him. Their footsteps became a rhythm and they stayed silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

Then, Y/N’s footsteps started to falter, breaking the pattern.

“You ok?” Spencer knew that people favoring the balls of their feet while walking was a sign of anxiety.

Rather than answer verbally, she yanked him down a dark alleyway, pushing against him.

“Y/N?”

She was holding him against her, her own back to the brick wall.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

A hand snaked around his tie and pulled him down sharply. Their lips met in an instant.

He should have pulled away. He should have stayed professional. He should have done anything but what he did.

Hands flying to the side of her face, he pulled her closer, coaxing open her mouth and moaning softly into it, feeling her hands travel down his waist, running along his belt.

Her lips were so soft. He’d wanted this so bad. And now that she was against him, lips against his, he realized how much he’d needed it. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d deal with that later.

But before he could process anything else, a sudden weight left his hips, her lips left his, and the unmistakable noise of a gunshot rang through the air behind him.

@aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao

#matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #ao3 #criminal minds #fluff #humor #angst

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

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Just A Friend

Wow. I’m so, so grateful for the lovely response to chapter 1 of this story. I’ve never had so many notes on one of my posts before, so many, many thanks to everyone who took the time to read, like, reblog and comment on it. i do appreciate it

Thanks also to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Previous chapter

AO3

Chapter 2: From Scrubs to Sauvignon

Sunlight streaming through the shutters wakes me before the alarm. After the previous seventy two hours with too much alcohol, not enough sleep and shared hotel rooms, last night’s sleep was a solid nine and a half hours and I feel so much better for it.

Trying, for a moment at least, to ignore both the demands of my bladder and my desperate need for caffeine, I gaze up at the ceiling and contemplate the surgery ahead of me. Whilst it’s a comparatively routine procedure for me, I always think about the families — parents, grandparents, siblings. It’s an anxious time for them, never routine, a step into the unknown and they are putting their trust in me to look after their precious child. Their faith in me is something I take very seriously.

I have a ritual I follow every time before theatre. I take a few minutes to close my eyes and let the procedure play inside my head, my hands echoing the images in my brain. I trace the path my scalpel will take on the skin; I position, in mid air, the locations of the clamps; I work with my imaginary mallet and chisel honing the bone, the X-ray images clear in my head.

By the time I’ve finished closing the incision, the demands of my bladder can no longer be ignored. That’s my cue to get out of bed and start my day.

***********

Before I put my scrubs on, I pay a visit to the side room where Robbie, my seven year old patient has spent the night. His parents have already given consent for the operation, but I like to go and do a final check.

Robbie is sitting up in bed, a bit subdued but in good health. His mother is sitting expectantly, nervously playing with the skin around her nails. The foldaway bed has already been put away, but, judging by her red rimmed eyes, I don’t think it got much use. Robbie’s father follows me into the room, two coffees in his hands.

“Sorry, Doctor Claire,” he nods at the coffee. “I didna get ye one. D’ye want one?”

I let the doctor reference pass. As a surgeon, my title is no longer doctor. Officially, I am Miss Beauchamp, but prefer my juvenile patients to call me Claire. Quite a lot of the parents seem to call me Doctor Claire. I suppose they like the reassurance that I am actually a proper doctor.

“No, thanks.” I smile. “Are we all set then?”

They nod nervously.

“Aye,” Robbie’s father agrees. “We need tae get it done.”

“How long will it take?” Robbie’s mother looks directly at me, wanting a definitive answer.

I hesitate. I don’t like to give precise times. If the surgery goes longer then parents start to fear the worst, and that’s not always the case. So I give a vague answer. “‘Till lunchtime… you could always go and sit outside in the little garden, it’s a lovely day.”

His mother looks down at her hands and shakes her head. “No, I want tae be right here …”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

I turn to Robbie, blissfully unaware of his parents’ thoughts. He beckons me to him.

“When I wakes up,” he begins in a stage whisper. “Can I have a treat?”

“What sort of treat did you have in mind?”

“Can I have a MacDonald’s? But no’ a kid’s meal. I’ve never had a Big Mac.”

I glance at his parents who nod at me before I whisper back, “Of course you can, but don’t let nurse Geillis see, will you? She can be ever so naughty. She’ll be trying to steal your chips away, if you’re not careful.”

And with that, I stroke Robbie’s little cheek before saying my goodbyes and head out to get changed.

**********

Robbie’s surgery went to plan, no nasty surprises or tricky complications. I call in to check on Robbie’s parents before they head to recovery. They look totally different to when I saw them this morning. Still worn out of course, I don’t think they’ll sleep properly until their little lad is home with them, but their faces shine with sheer relief. I have warned them about the long road ahead, with many hours of physiotherapy and exercises, but, for today, I’ll let them have their moment of pure happiness. Reality will hit them again soon enough.

As I leave the waiting room, making my farewells, Robbie’s dad thanks me once more. I can tell he’s unsure whether hugging me is appropriate or not, so he settles for a handshake. His wife has no such qualms, wrapping me tightly in a hug, whispering her thanks until her husband reminds her that they need to be with their son. I point the way and head down to the nurses station.

Geillis is sitting there, looking very busy on the computer. I pull up a chair and sit next to her. The screen is filled with images of our weekend in Barcelona.

“What?” She looks at me as if I’ve accused her of something. “I’m on ma lunch, aren’t I?”

“How was your night then?”

Geillis beams from ear to ear— she’s like the cat who got the cream. “Nay bad, nay bad at all. After two nights away, Dougal realises what he’s got wi’ me, and he dinna hesitate tae show me, if ye ken what I mean?”

She winks at a poor medical student, who blushes and busies himself with a set of medical notes.

“Geillis,” I warn. “Behave yourself.”

“Anyway, pet, how was yer evening? Another tryst wi’ Professor Randall?” Her face says it all. Geillis thinks about as much of Frank as he does of her. Literally the only thing they have in common is me, and it’s getting pretty wearing.

“No, I was worn out and— oh, that reminds me.” I fumble in my pocket for my phone as I carry on talking. “I’ve got someone else’s suitcase. I hope they’ve got mine.”

I glance at the screen. Two missed calls and one message. All from the same number. All from the number I called last night, the James-Fraser-isn’t-here-don’t-call-again-ever number. Looks like this James Fraser has a jealous or suspicious wife-partner-girlfriend-housekeeper.

“Catch up later, Geillis, I need to deal with this.”

I rush back to my office to try and sort the suitcase problem out.

The message is brief and to the point.

Hi, Jamie Fraser here. I think I have your case too. Can we arrange a swap? I live in Glasgow. Hopefully you too. Where and when? I’m free after 5 today.

After five will work for me too, I just need to pop home and pick up his case. Now, based on his wardrobe choices and his one message to me, he doesn’t actually seem like an axe murderer or sex pervert, but you can’t really tell, so I think about a public location.

How about the benches by the cafe at Kelvingrove Park? 5:30? Claire Beauchamp

A couple of minutes later his reply appears on my screen.

Fine. See you then. I’ll be the one wheeling a black Samsonite. JF

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

It’s another glorious sunny day here in Glasgow. Just ideal for going for a stroll in the park. I do feel a bit conspicuous with a suitcase trailing along behind me — kind of like an upmarket bag lady.

There are no other suitcases around, so I perch on a bench. I fire a quick message to Geillis, just so that she knows where to direct the police if I disappear and then wait. It’s not too bad waiting. The sun is still warm, so I stretch my legs out trying for a tan. With my eyes closed, I lift my face up to soak up the rays. I may get panda eyes with my sunglasses on, but I don’t really care. The warmth is so good and I can feel myself relaxing totally —

“Ahem.”

I am conscious of a shadow across my face. I open my eyes and quickly stand up.

He’s tall. That’s the first thing I notice. A good few inches taller than me, and I’m 5 feet 9. And broad. Broad enough to block my sun. His hair is red, very red and the sun behind him creates a fiery corona around his head.

He’s a Viking. A Viking in a navy blue suit and a crisp white shirt. How many of those white shirts does he own, I wonder?

“Claire Beauchamp, I presume. I recognise the case. That red ribbon on the handle, such a unique idea.”

He smiles, a lopsided half grin and holds out his hand for me to shake. “Jamie Fraser.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” I say somewhat unnecessarily as we shake hands.

He sits down. “So,” he begins politely. “I hope ye havena come far out of yer way.”

I join him on the bench.

“No,” I gesture vaguely to my right. “I live not too far from here. How about you?”

That lopsided grin appears again. “Nah,” he gestures to his left. “No’ too far at all.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. We are not really here for small talk, but is it too rude to just dive in and do the swap?

“So,” Jamie breaks the silence. “About the cases…”

Apparently it’s not too rude.

“I ken ye have ma case there, on account of ma contact details being in it, but what about this one? How do I ken this is yers? Black Samsonites with wee red ribbons seem to be awfa common ‘round here. As proof, can ye mebbe tell me something that’s in it? Something identifiable?”

And at this, my mind goes blank, what did I pack?

“Er, denim shorts… black flip flops… white vest—”

“Weel, they’re all verra common. Is there anything a wee bit more… unique?”

Is it my imagination or is there a twinkle in his clear blue eyes as he says this? And then I remember exactly what’s in my case and start to blush.

“There may be some hen party bits and pieces in there too. It was my friend’s hen weekend, so I think there may be some, er, stuff from that, you know, er, handcuffs… shot glasses…”

He puts me out of my misery. “Och, that’s fine. It’s yers, right enough. Here ye go.”

And we do the exchange, just like in the spy movies. Except in those, the cases are filled with bank notes and the top secret blueprints for a submarine base, and not white dress shirts and an assortment of shot glasses shaped like penises.

Our phones beep practically simultaneously. I pull mine out of my pocket. Jamie does the same and glances at his phone.

Mine is a text from Frank confirming tonight’s arrangements “I’d better go. Plans for tonight, you know.”

“Snap. Plans here as well.”

“Goodbye then. I’m not sure whose fault it was, the mixup at the airport. So why don’t we both say sorry, or neither of us?” I suggest as I stand up and smooth the creases from my skirt.

“Sounds good tae me. How about neither?” He smiles again. “Ms Claire Beauchamp, nice to meet you.”

“Mr Jamie Fraser, likewise I’m sure.”

And with that we head off, me to the right and Jamie Fraser to the left.

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

Frank had said 7:30, and, sure enough, at 7:28 my intercom buzzes and I let Frank in. He arrives at my door carrying a large bunch of lilies and roses. No, not a bunch, I can’t describe it as a bunch… carrying a large bouquet of lilies and roses, beautifully arranged and hand-tied. Clearly not a supermarket purchase. Nor is the wine he also hands to me. A chilled bottle of my favourite Sauvignon Blanc, only available from quality wine merchants in the city.

Frank can be incredibly thoughtful and generous, and I am suitably grateful. I pop the flowers into the kitchen sink while I try to locate a vase big enough to hold them. He walks in as I’m scrabbling around on my hands and knees, bum in the air, head buried in the cupboard under the sink.

“So what are we having for dinner?” He asks as he pours the wine. “Are you cooking?”

I emerge victorious, having found the vase wedged between a bottle of sink unblocker and an unused can of spray starch.

“Sorry?”

“Dinner?” He repeats, helping me to my feet.

“I’ve not had a chance to cook. I told you about the suitcase confusion, didn’t I? Well, I had to get that sorted. I thought we could have something delivered. That’s ok, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure that will be fine, darling. What would you like?”

What would I like? What I would really like would be a huge, great pizza full of carbs and grease and pepperoni and cheese that pulls into strands when you try to take a slice. And to sit on the floor with the pizza box between us watching Netflix and drinking beer.

But, that is clearly a rhetorical question.

“Thai?” Frank doesn’t wait for my answer.

Thai is the only acceptable takeaway in Frank’s eyes, eaten at a table, on proper plates. I nod my agreement. After all, he’s brought me wonderful flowers, and a gorgeous bottle of wine. He deserves to have the choice. And I can have pizza with my friends any time.

“You ring the order through then, while I arrange these beautiful flowers.” I say and kiss his cheek.

And that is our evening sorted - takeaway, a couple of glasses of wine, Newsnight on the television and then to bed for a bit of sex.

So, that’s food, drink, mind and body all sorted. I should go to sleep feeling satisfied with everything. I should… shouldn’t I?

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 2 #fluff

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were-all-going-to-hell-goodbye · 4 years

Note

Okay your reply was amazing and cute, but I got another one. Say Izuku is with his boyfriends and dads (because one Aizawa insisted on coming as he was the chaperone and Mic tagged along) going to the mall and Izuku spots some people from Aldera and boy does his personality change from happy puppy to scared timid pup. Of course the group noticed him and goes up to ask if he took the advice. How does the others react especially Bakugou?

(Like I’ve said before this AU is a bit different, but someone did still tell him to kill himself)

We all know Dadzawa come along because he did not trust a single of those fuckers along with his- “KAMINARI THISE HANDS BETTER STAY ABOVE THE HIP AND YOUR FACE BETTER STAY 30 FEET AWAY!” “W-what?” “YOU HEARD ME!” Mic joined because live Dadzawa content? Yes please.

Anyway, Intro (Even though it’s gonna be solo reactions): Izu’s wanted a date like this since forever, he either got just one on one time, or two or three at a time, but they’ve only done a group outing once and that was before they were dating. It sucks that the girls couldn’t come, but Momo’s parents wanted her home, and Mina had dance practice. But it was nice being out alone with the boys.

Well, almost alone....

“Stop giving me that look.”

Izuku sticks his tongue out and pulls on the underside of his eye.

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t here!”

Aizawa sighs as Mic snickers about something with Denki in the background.

“I can’t leave you alone with these...!”

“These what?”

“These predators!!!”

(“I believe he’s talking about you, King Explosion Murder.” “OI! FUCK OFF MIND FUCKER”)

“What? You think one of them is gonna strip me in the middle of the mall?!”

“I wouldn’t put it past that one!”

“HA! Take that mind fucker!”

“...That’s fair.”

Izuku threw his hands in the air, knowing he won’t win this fight. That didn’t stop him from grabbing both Shinso’s and Bakugou’s hands as he passes them though.

Ignoring Dadzawa’s sputtering, and his whole existence as whole, Izuku is determined to have the best day ever!

As the day goes on Izuku migrates between his boyfriends, bugging his dad, and napping on Shoji. All in all, it was a wonderful day, and it was going to get even better because they were finally going to the Hero Merch store! Even though Dadzawa told him he was only allowed three things.

Heh, jokes on him, Todoroki once bought him the whole McDonalds franchise because he was craving a big mac at three am, his boyfriends got him covered.

So, with that thought in mind, he swung hand in hand with Denki and Sero, giggling at the little jokes they told him.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the little quirkless slut of Aldera. See you’re still selling your body. Too bad you didn’t take the advice given, or did you actually do it and fail?”

No one’s ever seen Izuku wilt so fast, and he’s never snatched his hands away from them before.

Everyone was too shocked to go after Izuku when he ran off, it wasn’t long after they lost sight of him in the crowd that the assholes in questions started laughing like Izuku’s pain was funny.

These fuckers had another thing coming.

Dadzawa: I wasn’t the one who told you this but he threatened these kids so badly. One kid passed out, the other burst into tears, and the last one pissed his pants. He erased each of their quirks, said if they don’t shape up he’ll find them and make sure they never went anywhere with their lives. And oh, did he mention he was a Pro-hero? Oh, he did? Yeah, well, not only could he get them black listed from every hero school in Japan he could also get them expelled from their current school. He also may have shaken the crying one a few times in his capture weapon.

Mic: That was probably the loudest Mic has ever gotten without using his quirk. He publicly dragged their asses in front of the whole mall, scolding them and very clearly using his influence as a well-known hero to his advantage. He told them the path they were on could very quickly lead to them becoming villains and if he encountered them doing illegal things he would have no mercy.

Bakugou: Surprisingly, he did not throw the first punch, who did? Well that’s a surprise for later, but Bakugou has mad respect. Anyway, after the leader lost a few teeth, Bakugou tore them a new asshole, like this boi was r u t h l e s s and it was funny as hell. He yelled at them for like 30 minutes and he didn’t let them leave after that, after making them piss their pant he forced them to come along to find Izuku and when he did he made them get on their knees and beg for him forgiveness and if Bakugou didn’t like the apology he threatened to “BLAST YOUR ASSES TO HELL!”

Todoroki: This boy, with no hesitation, froze them up their necks, MADE A FIRE BALL IN HIS HAND, AND FUCKING THREATENED TO FREEZE THEIR BABY MAKERS OFF, BURN THEM, AND FORCE FEED THEM TO THEM IF THEY EVER SPOKE, LOOKED, OF THOUGHT OF IZUKU IN ANYWAY, AND HE WOULD KNOW. He then left them there without unfreezing them, but Dadzawa found out and told him to let them out.

Kirishima: He definably got physical, but he didn’t throw a punch. He just grabbed the one to speak by his shirt and slammed him into a wall before calling him the unmanliest person he ever met and he was attack by a homicidal toddler with hands all over his body. He then states that not only was he attacked twice by villains and won, but he was the key to defeating a villain that was giving Fat Gum a probably so a “disrespectful little shit like you would be no problem”

Denki and Sero: Denki imminently lost his shit, like he was sparking and electricity was popping off his body, (If you can’t tell I simp SO hard for Denki) he went to shock them, but Sero taped his mouth closed and his wrist together to stop him so he wouldn’t “accidently” kill them. Now Sero himself as soon as he was done with that, turned to the three of them and taped them together and to the wall with just enough space underneath their noses to breathe.

Tokoyami and Shoji: Tokoyami isn’t really one to yell, so he just glared darkly at them while pretending he didn’t see Dark Shadow giving them a piece of her mind. He also pretended not to see when she started grabbing them to shake and toss in the air like they were rag dolls. He did however trip the one who tried to one away so Dark Shadow could grab his ankle and drag him away screaming. Since Dark Shadow only had two hands, Shoji made sure to keep the extra one within grabbing distance and if he threatened to show up in the night and destroy everything they love while they sleep, well, Tokoyami didn’t see or hear that either.

Shinso: Oh, this boi, this one of best boi. We love the tired child, yes, we do~. Ahem, anyway. I feel like it best if I directly tell you what was said. “HEY YOU SAD SACKS OF SHIT MUNCHERS!” “What the fu-” “Fuckface, how about you piss yourself and knock yourself out by running into that wall.” “Shitfuck, I don’t know, fucking go up to the nearest girl them scream that you like men and want to date her because she looks close enough.” “And you, wings, how about you strip and streak around the mall, make sure you use those wings so you don’t get caught.”

Iida: He with no hesitation fucking recipro burst and fucking punched the shit out of the one talking. Like that was a Stain paralyzed my brother level punch. He looked these fuckers in the face and just fucking threatened their l i v e s, he was like “If I can go after Stain and win you best believe I will have no hesitation in doing worst to you.” Then he was going on about how pure and smart and amazing Izuku is and how they didn’t even deserve to speak his name. After saying all that he went to leave, then froze, turned and around and fucking quirk kicked the nearest kid in the balls and the other in the stomach.

WHOO that was a lot, I wanted to keep them as in character as I could while also putting in a few of my hc for this AU. I hope I did well, and I hope you enjoy this!!!! Have a PLUS ULTRA day!!!

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duhragonball · 3 years

Note

🌻

So I finally remembered to order some new T-shirts. I used to buy blank T-shirts at the store, but for a while Target used to carry Gildan brand T-shirts which I found more comfortable for some reason. Then they stopped carrying them for no apparent reason, and I realized that I didn’t need to put up with this bullshit anymore because I could just order Gildan shirts on the internet. This was what led me to blankshirts.com

I always hated shopping for clothes as a kid, because all I wanted to wear were blank t-shirts, and my mom would drag me around making me look at all this useless horseshit with stripes and paisley patterns and button-down stuff and I hate all of that, I just want solid colors with no long sleeves or any other bells and whistles. So now I just place a bulk order for forty Gildan T-shirts, and I wear them for like 18 months until I get sick of them and want to order new ones.

I see people wax nostalgic about their childhoods, and I almost never get it because everything was a pain in the ass when I was a kid. You couldn’t just get new pants, you had to go to the store and try them on. Now I just know what number Levis I like and the two numbers that go with that, and I can order them over the computer. I don’t need to clear any of this with my mom, or listen to her tell me “that’s tacky” or “you can’t just wear the same five colors of T-shirts over and over”.

You know, I used to wear only black T-shirts for a few years. My apartment got flooded and I was in a mood over it, and I started buying new clothes and figured “Well, I’ll just stick to one color for a while,” and the world didn’t end and the fashion police never found me. Eventually I expanded the palette to stuff like “forest green” and “maroon” but it’s not that complicated. I could have done this all along, but I had to get old enough to figure out how.

I do like going to the Men’s Wearhouse, because even though I’m not a suit and tie guy, they talk to me like a peer and they don’t waste my time with stuff I don’t care about. They’re like, here’s three shirts that would go with this, and I pick two. Here’s some tie options. I’ll take that one. Done. It’s doesn’t have to be this weird guessing game where you hope that “the right answer” and “what you actually want” are the same thing.

I was reading about Donald Trump’s shitty Boeing 757 plane and he got like gold-plated everything. To me, that’s stupid, because the place still looks like a jet airplane with couches in it, but now all the door handles and faucets are gold-plated, and then some bulter comes out serving Fillet O’Fish sandwiches, probably. But I can respect having things your own way. In the end, nobody really cares, so if you can afford it, go for it. If I had my own private jet, I guess I’d have some cool Dragon Ball Z shit painted on the side, and maybe the airplane painting people would exchange funny looks behind my back, but they’d shrug and do it anyway, because I’m paying for it.

I’m sort of shifting subjects here, but Trump’s plane reminds me of how I used to look up superyacht photos because I wanted some inspiration for Luffa’s spacship. In the fanfic, she... ahem... acquired a pleasure craft from some rich dude, and the whole gag with that was that it was far too luxurious for her to appreciate. I considered having her rip out all the plush decor, except she wouldn’t even care enough to bother with that. Rich Corinthian leather sits just as well as cheap upholstery. If she was running low on cash she could rip out some of the gold-plated decorations and sell it for scrap, but otherwise it’s just there, unappreciated. The new owner sleeps in the fitness center on Deck 4 and she spilled barbecue sauce on the 90000-count silk sheets.

The thing I quickly learned about super-yachts was how utterly unimpressive they really are. You expect to see something mega-fancy, like a James Bond movie hideout, but it just looks like stuff you’d find in a moderately fancy home, except they put it on a boat, so that makes it more luxurious. Oh, here’s a movie theater on this yacht. It looks like a bunch of armchairs and a big screen TV like I’ve seen in furniture stores and electronic stores, only someone bought all that stuff and put it in one room and it’s on a boat. The closest I ever saw to a truly fancy thing was a bay inside a superyacht where other, smaller boats were kept. Which sounds cool, at least, but why would you want to leave your big fancy boat to screw around in smaller boats?

You read about this stuff, and it starts to feel like rich people already have it their own way, and they’re so used to it that they don’t know what else to want, so they start buying stuff like boats with smaller boats in them. Muammar Gaddafi used to have this all-female boyguard staff, which sounds like this cool, over-the-top supervillain thing, but he probably got bored with it after a while, and where do you go from there?

Anyway, I’m just glad I can order these blank shirts without having to beg a Target store to carry them. I’m simple that way.

#ask duhragonball #thealphapenguin

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not-safe-for-bts · 4 years

Text

Terms and Conditions of Friendship {JHS}

I wish I had it in me to apologise for this disgusting smut, but I just don’t. I just... don’t. Also I wrote so much I had to split it into two halves bc tumblr hates long posts sorry

Warnings: swearing (it’s me), fuckboy!BTS, sexual tension with like all of the members, a road trip with 7 rowdy men, slight exhibitionism, teensy bit of masturbation,smallest mention of thigh riding, intentional (but not obvious) orgasm denial, Jung Hoseok being rude aF, fratboy Bangtan shenanigans as per

Summary: 13 has always been an unlucky number. Always. It’s just... written into the laws of nature at this point. So it’s no surprise that when you hit the 13th month of your - ahem - dry spell, you do the one thing you swore you’d never do.

Part 2 || Masterlist

~^*^~

Just as you think you’ve successfully made it through the hallway, a voice calls your name and you audibly sigh and turn to the owner of said voice. Jungkook has his head peering around the door from, looking at you.

“Where ya going?” He inquires.

“To the bathroom...” you trail off, hoping that he doesn’t catch on to the very obvious need in your voice.

“Why did you sneak off?”

“Because I didn’t want to interrupt you guys. Enough interrogation I need to go.”

You ignore any more words coming from his mouth, as you’re already practically sprinting to the bathroom. Fuck Min Yoongi. God, you’d like to. Why he chose on having you sit on his lap during the movie, why he had to keep flexing his fucking thigh every time he so much as shuffled, why he had to keep a grip on your waist was beyond you and now you were all riled up. Well... technically, you’d been riled up for the last nine days and you were nearing insanity. You know that it was around the time that you are ovulating, so of course your body is craving a little more than usual but... this is a lot more than usual. This is tons more than usual. And hanging out with the Bangtan Fraternity is not helping your case.

No, it never helped your case. Because all seven members are hot. Yesterday, Namjoon had appeared in the kitchen shirtless and he’s been working out for the last five months and he’s got some real nice pecs and a faint but still obvious set of abs and- you inhaled your orange juice through your nose and Taehyung had a fit. He couldn’t stop laughing and you made Namjoon smirk because that fucker knew he’d struck a cord by coming in shirtless. Way to boost his ego.

A few days before that incident, you had slept over after a party and Seokjin had been getting it on with one of the sorority girls (you think her nae was Rose or something like that) and holy shit, hearing his grunts and moans sent you into a frenzy. You’d never really had a thing for Seokjin but it was hard to face him the next morning, that’s for sure.

Right now, though, you are close to calling a male prostitute or doing something because holy shit you hadn’t had sex in thirteen whole months. Your last rendezvous had been with Jackson Wang, your then boyfriend who had promptly dumped you just two days after. Something about needing space. Clearly he needed space to fuck that stupid Taeyeon or whatever her name is. Whatever. You’re totally over it.

Except you really miss sex. You really miss sex. To the point that you’re currently on your way to the bathroom to maybe get one orgasm out of the way so that you can focus on the rest of the movie. Of course, that doesn’t happen.

“Ey, [First], hurry up, I need to pee after.”

“Hoseok, there is a bathroom upstairs.” You grit your teeth, turning your head as you near the bathroom door.

“Yeah, exactly. This one is closer. So hurry up.”

He’s in a pair of grey material shorts and a black t-shirt and somehow he looks better than models on a runway. He’s looking at you with an accusatory gaze. Why are you being so feisty?

“Wait are you going for a shit-“

“No-“ you cut him off, “I’m not!”

“Good well hurry.”

So, you slam the bathroom door shut and stand there for a moment. You stare at yourself in the mirror and mutter to yourself in an attempt to cool your ever growing body temperature. Your eyes are blown wide and there’s a rosey hue to your cheeks. You look exactly how you feel and you know at least one of the members has caught on to what’s bothering you.

As you run a hand through your hair, the door knocks.

“Come on!”

Fucking Hoseok.

You tear the door open, giving him a glare.

“You didn’t flush.” He points out with a disgusted look.

“I didn’t do anything. You put me off.” Technically it isn’t a lie. Hoseok gives you a weird look and tugs you out of the room so that he can go in. He doesn’t even shut the door properly. Disgusting.

Why are you even friends with these disgusting frat boys? You do have to wonder. Your legs are starting to shake a little. You decide to sit down in the kitchen, opting you stay away from the room full of guys for a moment. You need to catch your breath. You hear the bathroom door shut and Hoseok whistles as he makes his way back to the living room. With him gone, you could totally just go back to the bathroom...

You’re seriously debating it. It’s so tempting and Yoongi’s actions have caused a horrible burn in the pit of your stomach. Your guts are doing summersalts and your fingers are itching to relieve yourself.

You could totally-

“Oh, there you are!” A boxy grin greets you and it takes every ounce of will power to not scream.

What the hell has gotten into you? Since when were you so horned up? You seriously need to cool it.

“Yes, here I am.” You mask over the frustration in your voice and give Taehyung as much of a smile as you can.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah...” you turn your attention to the fruit bowl, turning an apple with your index finger.

“Everything doesn’t seem alright. You jumped off of Yoongi Hyung like he was hot.”

“Yoongi is hot.” You roll your eyes.

“You know what I meant.”

“Everything’s okay, Tae, I promise.” You look back up at him and give him another smile.

He takes one proper look at your face and it takes a lot to not call you out. He knows that if you wanted help, you would definitely ask and you were obviously trying to ignore your whole situation. Your lips are bruising a little from how badly you’ve been biting them, your eyes are clouded and blown wide, your cheeks are gently flushed and so if the expanse of your chest from what he can make out of the skin peeking out of your shirt. You’re horny.

You suddenly feel as though Tae is eye-fucking you and you cross your arms over your chest, awkwardly turning away from him. Both of you have grown comfortable with one another. You usually send for Tae in your times of need (aka wanting someone to platonically cuddle with) because he has expressed no romantic interest in you. There’s no chance it could ever possible happen. So, you feel comfortable with him.

But right now, seeing only just a fraction of how you’d look being completely ruined, Tae can’t help but kind of okay really want to bend you over the counter and help you out.

He clears his throat.

“Okay well... if you say so.”

You hum in response and then turn to him again.

“The movie is kinda boring so I’m gonna chill out in here instead.” You announce, voice suddenly weak.

“Okay...” he barely manages a whisper and turns away immediately.

What the fuck was that?!

Did you just get eye-fucked by Kim Taehyung?

You slip into one of the cool bar stools and immediately there’s a burning cold running up and down your exposed legs. The plastic nips into your hot flesh and you sigh.

The clock is ticking behind you and you can barely make out the sound of people outside. There’s a good 30-40ft of distance between the frat house next door and so you don’t have to worry too much about their noise. It’s mostly quiet and the sun isn’t on this side of the house. The room is still bright, though.

Another sigh leaves your lips after a moment passes. Maybe it’s the coolness of the seat, but you’re finally feeling a little better. You definitely need to invest in finding more female friends.

~^*^~

“Psst.”

You ignore it. Just ignore it. Maybe he’ll stop.

“Pssst.”

Again, you pretend not to hear, jotting down another note.

“Pssssst!” A finger jabs into your side and you finally cave, head snapping to your right.

You come face to face with some coffee coloured orbs which are a little wide and sparkling in mischief (albeit a little regret after your angry face turns to him), he’s got mousy hair and plump-ish lips and holy shit he’s kind of cute. You don’t let your face falter, though. This is the first lecture of the year and he’s already interrupting and talking?

“Could I borrow a pen?” He whispers sheepishly, “I left my pencil case back home...”

You huff, not uttering a single word to him as you open your case and practically throw a pen at him.

“Thanks...” he whispers and now he feels bad. It was a genuine mistake, though! He got a little busy with Jimin and the PlayStation and before he knew it, he had like 20 minutes to get ready and get to class and it’s a seven minute walk from the frat house to this lecture hall so he only had 13 minutes to get ready and- he kind of left his pencil case on the kitchen counter, “...I’m Jungkook by the way.”

You don’t respond. He doesn’t say anything else until the lecture ends and he’s watching you throw things into your rucksack. It’s very cliche - and trust, he knows this - but you are the first girl who’s not melted at the look of him and he kind of likes that? He likes that you haven’t given in so easily.

“I’m sorry about all that,” he begins once people start to up and leave. You turn to him.

“It’s fine. Keep the pen.”

And you’re gone.

Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about you and he feels so guilty. It was the first day! How could he forget one of the two things that are going to carry him through his university. You can’t have paper without pen! Okay, that makes no sense but, he still feels really bad. So he goes out and buys this lowkey expensive pen as an apology and he’s super early the next day. He catches you outside and tugs you away from the doors.

“I hope you don’t want another pen-“ you snap at him.

“No, listen, I just wanted to apologise for yesterday. It was totally my fault and I’m sorry for making such a bad impression of myself. Here.” Jungkook has never done the whole gift-to-a-girl thing before so he just kind of thrusts you an unwrapped box. It’s a pretty pen. A muted metallic rose gold. It also comes with refills.

Oh. That was sweet. But you immediately realise how much this must’ve cost him and you decide-

“I can’t accept this, Jungkook.” You offer politely, reaching out to give it him back.

“Please, I really want you to have it. I felt awful after you looked at me like you wanted to bite my head off.” He rubs the back of his neck, unable to look at you for a moment. You ponder. This is a really sweet gesture.

“Alright,” you sigh, “but you’re not giving me a lot of choice. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“You’re welcome...” he trails off so that you can fill in your name.

“[First]. I’m [First].” You give him a smile.

Before you know where you are, you’re being pushed through the cafeteria by Jungkook and he’s screaming out “Hyung!” And then six different guys are all staring at you. Jungkook introduces you to them, sits you down next to the one called Taehyung and takes the biggest bite you’ve ever seen out of Namjoon’s sandwich. This happens for the next few days until you start to willingly accompany Jungkook.

~^*^~

Three years have passed since then and you are now sitting in their kitchen trying not to jump the bones of the next one that walks through the door.

You think about Jungkook back then. He’s always had a little bit of a baby face, but back then he was still a little lanky so it was more obvious. He had a pretty weak build. Obviously, since then, he’s been going to the gym like twice (sometimes thrice) a day because he’s earnt the nickname muscle pig. Somehow you also know that he’s gotten stronger because he can “hold an entire girl up with ease without needing any support” (it was also the worst sex he ever had, so he’d not done it since). Great. Now you’re thinking about Jungkook holding you up and-

No. No, you are not going to think about Jungkook like that. It’s bad enough you’re sitting in here avoiding the seven of them like the plague because you know that if you have to sit on Yoongi’s lap again you’ll end up riding his thigh like your life depends on it.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Jimin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts about Yoongi’s thighs and you look up at him. He’s recently dyed his hair black and holy shit he is the epitome of sex on legs. He walks across the kitchen to grab a glass and turns to you for a minute.

“Hello? Am I talking to the wall?”

“Sorry,” you find yourself finally finding words, “bored.”

“There’s a whole Fast and Furious in the living room-“

“Yeah but it’s boring.”

“Tokyo Drift is not boring.”

“Yes it is. And the main character isn’t even hot so it’s not worth it.”

Jimin blows his teeth out at your response. Of course you wouldn’t want to watch a movie because the main character isn’t hot. He fills his glass with water and takes a swig.

“Well sorry he’s not Leonardo Di-whatever his name is.”

“First of all, rude, second of all I didn’t realise you guys missed my company so.”

“It’s nice having female company.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re disgusting, Park.”

“Not as disgusting as the girl who blatantly tried to ride Yoongi hyung’s thigh like ten minutes ago.”

He throws the words over his shoulder as he leaves the room and your face explodes in red. Shit. Okay. You need to leave right now if you want to save face. You pray to god that only Jimin saw because you cannot emotionally handle the guys making fun of you right now. You need to go home, get your vib and go to town for a couple of hours. You’ll feel better.

You almost jump off of the stool in your anticipation to leave. Part of you wants to go and say goodbye to the boys, but you know you’ll end up coerced into staying if you do. They’ll text if they worry about you.

Your feet are moving towards the front door and you pause just before you walk past the living room. The door is wide open (typical Jimin) and there is no way they won’t spot you. Round the back it is.

Who would’ve thought you of all people would be sneaking out of the frat house?

It’s not under the same circumstances as the other girls but, you’re still sneaking out and you still kind of feel like James Bond so it totally counts. The back door (as expected) is unlocked and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that the pool is actually covered. The boys have finally taken heed after two and a half years of you giving them shit for not covering it over.

You’re so close to leaving when you realise your fatal misstep in this whole mission. Your phone. It’s still on the sofa next to Yoongi. Fuck.

Maybe if you found a way to distract the guys and lure them outside, you could just rush back in and-

“What are you doing?”

The sass in the voice alerts you to who it is immediately. You literally don’t know how to answer him bevause your standing at the side of the house, looking out at the street that’s so close but so far away, nervously biting at your cuticles.

“I’m, uh, getting some fresh air.”

“Yeah, right. You can’t just leave, [First]!” Seokjin scolds and he’s pulling you back towards the back door.

“But I’m bored!” You whine.

“You let Jungkook choose the movie.”

“Yeah but he gave me his puppy eyes and an extra mini-cookie.”

The movie apparently just finished because Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon are standing in the kitchen. You can hear Jungkook and Jimin squabbling in the kitchen and you’re kind of a little too embarrassed to see Tae right now. None of them pay much attention to Seokjin or yourself as he scolds you for trying to leave without saying goodbye. You apologise to him before excusing yourself to grab your phone. You pass Jungkook in the hall and he grins at you.

“Hi baby,” he blows a kiss.

“Suck it, Jeon.” You playfully scowl and make your way to your precious phone.

You clutch it up and look at your notifications. Just a couple of snaps from Hyuna. Nothing out of the ordinary. Jimin is lolling on the sofa watching you. He knows he was the only member that saw what you were doing, and Yoongi probably didn’t even realise what was happening until you’d leapt from his grasp.

“[First],” he calls out.

“Hm?” You’re trying to act nonchalant.

“What the hell was that? With Yoongi Hyung.” His voice is a whisper and you draw yourself close to him.

“You don’t think anyone else saw, do you?” For a moment your mind flashes to Hoseok. God you hope Hoseok didn’t see.

It may have been pointed out by Jimin that you have a phat (with a capital PH) crush on Hoseok. Whilst that is certainly not true, it’s also not not true. You definitely have a thing for Hoseok but it’s not a crush, per se. There’s the obvious, first, that the man is fucking gorgeous in every sense of the word. He must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves because no one should have a jawline that sharp, or a nose that perfectly sloping and pointed. And definitely not lips like that. Plump to just the right size and form the shape of a heart whenever he smiles. Also, the rest of him, his arms (which you notice he’s been working on lately. He came back after dance practise wearing a vest and you almost creamed right there - Jimin didn’t shut up for like a week), his hands, his fluffy hair, his legs, that slab of chocolate-shaped abs that you want to run your damn tongue over-

Okay you have a thing for Hoseok. But it’s only physical. Anyone would be crazy to not crush on him. He’s gorgeous. He’s a an absolute beauty of a man and with being a dancer, you can only imagine how much stamina he has.

But he’s also the most good-hearted person you’ve ever met in your life. He laughs so loudly, he smiles so brightly and it’s all so genuine. He’s always been there for the other frat members and for you whenever you’ve needed him. He’s gotten up at 3am to console a sobbing Namjoon after his girlfriend broke up with him. He’s gone to the gym to help a small and fragile Jungkook work on his personal goals. He’s sat with you for hours helping you revise for exams. He goofs off a lot and doesn’t care woo looks, but he’s not afraid to cry in front of his frat members and you. He finds the dumbest things funny and he’s also the biggest scaredy-cat you’ve ever met and he’s just so... so Jung Hoseok. Everything about him is so inviting from his raspy laugh to his sparking eyes. He makes you feel secure in being yourself because he’s definitely not going to judge. Hell, if someone can go to all of their lectures for a day wearing just a mankini because they lost a bet to the maknaes, they’re definitely not going to judge you for dancing on the kitchen counter to a little bit of the Rolling Stones.

He, of course, is a fuckboy, yes. He brings home a lot of girls. You’ve been over at the house when you’ve heard “oh god-! Hoseok! Oh~!” and felt that pang of whatever the fuck that feeling is whenever he brings a girl home. But you’d never ever go that far with him yourself. Hoseok doesn’t want a full-time relationship. He doesn’t have the time for it. At least, that’s what he’s told you when you randomly asked why he doesn’t date. And you don’t want to be just a fling to him. You want to be able to hold his hand and show him off because he’s the best guy in the world. You want to sit on his lap while he studies and run your hands through his hair and reassure him that everything is going to be ok when he’s stressing over the smallest things. You want to go with him to Hope World (his personal studio for his Producing class) and sit on that little couch with the flower plushy and watch him tack tack tack away as he works hard. You want to go places with him and just him and have him all to yourself always. But you definitely don’t have a crush on him.

“[First] did you hear a word of what I just said?”

“Huh?”

“What the hell are you thinking about?” Jimin launches a pillow at you and you manage to catch it.

“Nothing, what were you saying?”

“I was answering your question. I was the only one that saw you trying to get yourself off on Yoongi and I’m fairly sure he didn’t even realise himself but - why the fuck were you trying to get off on Yoongi?”

Hoseok is laughing at something Yoongi has just said when he remembers that he was in the middle of texting that cute girl from the club a few nights ago. He reaches into his left pocket and then his right and finds... well nothing. Where’s his phone?

He looks around on the counter and sees only Namjoon’s phone and Seokjin’s keys and shit he must’ve left them in the living room. He can hear Taehyung upstairs listening to his classical music. He’s probably studying or jerking off. Jungkook is no longer making a ruckus in the living room so he’s guessing it’s empty.

He excuses himself from the conversation and slowly makes his way back to grab his phone. Hopefully there will be another lacy surprise waiting for him.

“[First] did you hear a word of what I just said?” Jimin’s voice is hushed and low. Clearly he doesn’t want to be heard. Hoseok stops in his tracks. He pressed his back against the wall, standing right next to the arch where the door is. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop but he also doesn’t want to interrupt.

“Huh?” The confusion in your voice is evidence that you didn’t.

“What the hell are you thinking about?” There’s a sound. A soft ‘puft’ kind of sound. It reminds him of a pillow.

“Nothing, what were you saying?” Hosoek knows you well enough that he catches the breath of a lie twisting your words. You were thinking about something.

Woah - back up. You were trying to get off on Yoongi?! During the movie?! Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat. He didn’t see you- yes he did. You were perched on Yoongi’s lap.... oh.

“Okay, look,” you sigh, defeated, “you can’t tell anyone this, alright?” Your voice lowers to a hush but Hoseok can still just about make out the words.

“Alright.” Jimin whispers.

For some reason, Hoseok feels really dirty. Maybe he shouldn’t be listening to this-

“I haven’t...” your voice trails off to a mumble.

“Huh?” It seems Jimin didn’t catch your words, either.

“I... I haven’t had...” again you trail away.

“Seriously, stop mumbling.” Jimin is growing a little irked.

“I haven’t had sex in over a year!” You hiss and Hoseok’s jaw literally drops.

“WHAT?!” Jimin leaps up and you smack your hand over his mouth. His eyes are swimming with genuine shock and your about to cry now that he’s alerted the entire street.

“Jimin!” You whine, “shut up!”

“Sorry-“ his mouth is muffled against your hand and it takes a strip of his tongue over your hand for you to pull away, “hope that didn’t turn you on more. If it’s even possible.”

“Oh shut up, Jimin.” You hiss, “it’s no big deal, obviously. It’s just getting to me a little. I’ll be alright. I just need to go home and have some... you know...” you look down at your feet. Oh god, this is awkward.

“I can always help.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows.

“Help with what?”

You freeze up and Jimin looks like the heavens have just opened for him. His eyes light up and you’ve never seen anyone try to hold back such a huge, shit-eating grin.

Hoseok steps into the room like he wasn’t just listening to you confess you’ve experiencing the longest dry-spell of your life.

“[First] has a bit of a problem. Actually it’s a huge problem,” Jimin starts and your sending him a look of warning. But Jimin knows you’re so whipped for Hoseok so maybe if he just hints a little, he can get you some dick and some Jung dick at that, “it’s a real burning blunder. It’s a hot, hot issue, let me tell ya Hyung.”

“Park Jimin.” You warm quietly through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok’s grabbed his phone now and he’s looking between you and Jimin. You’re standing really close to one another and you instinctively step away. Hoseok wants to say that he knows what your problem is and looking at your face, he doesn’t know how it wasn’t given away much earlier. Fuck, you look hot with the need swimming in your eyes.

“Yeah. It’s a real peak of an issue, wouldnt you say? I bet it’ll be a pretty orgasmic feeling when you solve it.”

Never in your life have you considered murder. But right now? Yeah, right now you could smash Jimin’s coy smirk right into the fucking wall.

Hoseok wants to burst out laughing. He knows Jimin is teasing you and he can see the anger flooding your face. He pins that Jimin is trying to get him to catch on to your problem but he already knows. He figures he’ll have a little fun.

“Oh, by the way, [First], we’re going on a spontaneous trip tomorrow. Wanna come?” He’s smiling at you.

Oh god. Hoseok’s asking you on a trip? Technically it’s wil the others but your heart just skipped a beat and Jimin is certain that you’re going to cry out of happiness.

“I, uh, I don’t know I-“

“She’d love to!” Jimin answers for you, “you don’t have any plans whatsoever do you?”

You’re giving him such an evil eye that’s screaming ‘you know I have plans you evil fucking leprechaun-ass looking motherfucker’ and he’s giving you a look back that’s screaming ‘a date with your vibrator isn’t plans’.

“Great!” Hoseok is showing some serious enthusiasm, “you might as well stay the night, then. You have clothes here, right?” You nod in response, “cool. Well, now that I’ve got this,” he waves his phone about, “I’m gonna go jerk off or something.” He stalks out. Hoseok... jerking off... in the same house as you...

You now and swolloy a dry lump. Jimin has just sealed you in for at least another 24 hours of absolute no relief whatsoever. And now Hoseok’s gone and said that! You could kill Jimin.

So now you’re lying in the middle of Hoseok’a bed with Hoseok to your right and Jungkook to your left. Back to the Future is playing on the TV but only Jungkook is really paying any attention. It’s dark and the light illuminating from Hoseok’s phone is beginning to hurt your vision. You keep looking at his hands. They wrap around his phone easily and you wonder what he did earlier. If he did... you know. There’s a burning right at the pit of your stomach and the room is hot and you’ve got two of the hottest guys you know laying on either side of you.

Jungkook’s biceps are hard and his flesh is a little clammy and hot. His pecs are pushing against the material of his shirt and his basketball shorts leave very little to the imagination.

“Yeah but I saw it on a... rerun...” you can hear Marty McFly talking in the background but the blood is pumping through your ears.

Hoseok takes a look at you. Your face is red and you’re biting your lips. You’re drawing circles on your leg with your fingertips. Oh. You’re nervous. Hoseok turns, making a point to make a small little groan as he does so and you shift next to him. He’s facing you now but his phone is still in his hands. He’s tapping away furiously and you wonder who’s on the receiving end.

It’s most certainly a girl. It has to be. The only time Hoseok types so damn much on his phone is when he’s scolding one of the frat members for something and as Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi have gone to another frat party and Seokjin and Namjoon have already gone to bed, you know that it’s not that. You eye him, careful not to out yourself. He smirks just a little. The light from his phone illuminated his face. How are his pores so small? And his eyebrows are so neatly kept. And his lips look so soft.

His eyes snap up to you and you are fast to look away. He smirks. God, you must be going batshit crazy right now. Hoseok isn’t narcissistic. He isn’t in love with himself like other people he knows coughjincough but he knows that he’s attractive. And he knows that Jungkook is attractive, too. And he knows that you haven’t had sex in over a year. He knows how hot the room is. He knows how little you all have on. He knows how easy it would be to touch you right now bevause Jungkook is way too busy watching the move.

But then he wonders if you’d make a noise. Probably given how blown out your pupils are right now. He can practically see steam coming off of your skin. He wonders how loud you could be. Would you scream out? Would you cry? What did you like?

Great. Now he’s getting hard.

‘Way to go, asswipe.’ He thinks to himself and lies back on to his back.

The last thing he wants is to press his cock into your side. You might just combust and he likes this bed. You peer over at Hoseok as he moves and hOLY SHIT HE’S HARD. You gulp hard and Jungkook actually notices.

“I’m gonna-“

You’re quick to push up and you clamber over Jungkook. Hoseok sees a damp spot on your shorts. Fuck. He’s getting harder and now he’s alone in a bed with Jungkook. This is really fucking weird.

“Jungkook can’t you fuck off? I wanna sleep.” Hoseok rolls to face away from Jungkook, placing his phone down on the nightstand. Whatever that Sara, Stacey, Sue - whatever her fucking name is - is saying is definitely going to be nowhere near as hot as what he’s just seen between your damn legs. You’re so fucking wet - how are you staying so composed?

“Can’t I watch the rest of this?”

“No.” Hoseok grumbles, “go sleep we’re taking a long drive tomorrow.”

Jungkook huffs loduly in protest but he gets up anyway and leaves the room.

You stand in the bathroom looking at yourself in the mirror. Your chest is rising and falling and you can feel your slick between your legs. It’s like a damn pool down there. What the he’ll is wrong with you?! Hoseok and Jungkook are your friends!

A few moments pass and you don’t return. Hoseok begins to think that maybe you aren’t coming back. Maybe you don’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with him but it’s getting cooler and he doesn’t like the chill biting at his back. He pulls himself up and he is straining against his shorts. Fuck. He makes his way out into the hallway. Silence except for the whir of the fan in the bathroom. The fan automatically comes on with the light so you must be in there. He moved towards the door. Maybe you’re feeling a little sick?

Hoseok nears the door and that’s when he hears it. Even the sound of the fan can’t drown out those small whimpers. Jesus. He presses his ear against the door.

“Oh my god.” You whisper. He thanks god for not fucking with his hearing. Your breathing is growing and your whimpers are slowly growing to be whines, “fuck,” Hoseok is biting his lip as he listens. He’s sure he’s rock hard until, “Hosoek,” you gasp.

Holy mother fucking shit.

Did you just-?

His name?

wHAT?

And now he feels 10x harder and he’s sure he’s never felt this hard in his life. Not even when that hot substitute in 10th grade had her blouse pop open because her breasts were just too big to not bust it open. Fuck. Shit fuck.

But then an idea pops into his head. He likes the game. He likes the chase and he wants to see how desperate you’ll get. Even when you were with Jackson, you were still kind of reserved when it came to sex. You’ve always been that way. Maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked any of the guys yet. And Hoseok kind of doesn’t want you to now that he’s heard you. He kind of wants you all to himself.

And so he knocks.

The noises stop immediately and your heart is thundering. You were so close! Just another couple seconds and you would have easily came. You freeze. Did they hear you? The pleasure isn’t really ebbing away. It’s just sitting there in your core, waiting to snap.

“Um, [First]?” Your face flushed a deep crimson. Why Hoseok?! Did he hear you?

“Y-yeah?” You try to sound normal, like your voice isn’t cracking, like you don’t want to burst into tears because you need to come so badly.

“Everything alright?” No. Absolutely not. You want to come. You kind of want him to come in and make you come. Over his cock.

“Yeah, everything’s peachy. I’ll be out in a mo’.”

“Alright.”

He stands there. He doesn’t know what to do now. He decides he’ll go in after you and maybe try to calm himself down after that. When the door eventually cracks open, you step out. Your vest is a little twisted and he realises he’s never seen you so exposed. Your chest is bigger than he originally thought. Why do you wear such tight clothes - you’re so hot! Your legs are long and gleaming. He wonders how they’ll feel wrapped around him. Your face is deeply blushed and your lips are really swollen now. How badly have you been biting them? Your eyes are sparkling with tears - just a little but Hoseok sees them. God, how pent up are you?

You look over Hoseok and the images that were in your head aren’t subsiding. He’s rock hard against his shorts. You think that’s he thinks because it’s dark you can’t see but Jesus Chris when it’s that big it’s hard to miss. You quickly look away and Hoseok coughs before stepping into the bathroom.

Anger is one emotion flooding your veins. You just need something. Anything. You don’t know when this is going to stop because you don’t know how long the boys plan on staying wherever you’re going. You should have left your dam phone here at the house and gone a night without it. It’s not like your laptop doesn’t have a link to your phone contacts anyway. God damn.

You clamber back into Hoseok’s bed and don’t bother pulling the covers up. Hoseok is gone for a while and you don’t know what’s taking him so long. What if he heard you? What if he’s gone to sleep downstairs? Dear god. Well that’s your friendship fucked with him. Oh lord.

If only you knew. His knuckles gripping the edge of the sink, his other hand being the reason for such an intense wave of pleasure coursing his veins. Thinking of the way his name rolled off of your tongue as you gasped for breath. Did you think about his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock? God he doesn’t care. Any of them will do to make you sound like that again.

And then there’s white coating the sink and dripping down and fuck. Hoseok’s never done that to the thought of you before. Now he has to get back into bed with you and act like that didn’t just happen.

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been until he pass back into the room. You’re facing the other side of the room but fuck. Your shorts have ridden up a little, your ass is exposed - since when did you have such a nice ass? Your curves are on full display since you’re lying on your side and when Hoseok moves around the bed to get into his side, your practically spilling out of your vest. Your lips are parted, brows a little furrowed but you look peaceful. All hints of the utter torture you’ve been enduring are wiped from your face and you look kind of cute.

You? Cute? Ew, no. You’re [First]. The dorky girl Jungkook brought to lunch a few days after he first started at the uni. You’re the sweet little thing that scolded Jungkook for eating half of Namjoon’a sandwiches in one bite. You’re [First] who always brings cupcakes on a Thursday and you always give each cake icing which is the favourite colour intended for its recipient. You’re the girl who brings extra pens just in case Jungkook forgets his again, and who dances with Jimin when he’s drunk and you just want him to not fall over again, and who reads to Namjoon when he’s sleepy. You’re [First] who somehow gets along with Yoongi really well and makes him laugh all the time, who sits with Jin and is the only one who sings “yummy, yummy, yummy I’ve got food in my tummy” with him when he’s cooking.

You’re [First] who showed up one day holding hands with a senior guy and who looked so in love Hoseok thought his heart was going to burst right there. You’re [First] who always brought Hoseok water and food to his dance practice, who visited him at Hope World to remind him to take a break. You’re [First] who once broke the coffee machine and went out the same day and spent all your wages on a brand new one because you felt so bad. You’re [First] who came crying to Hoseok first when Jackson broke your heart, who called him at 2am and just asked him to speak to you because you needed to hear someone’s voice and you always liked his for some reason. You’re...

You’re extraordinary.

Hoseok doesn’t realise that his hand is caressing your cheek until you melt into his touch. He pulls away as if you’re hot to the touch. What is he doing?

The next morning, you’re not there when Hoseok wakes up and he feels a little... deflated. It’s only about 7am and he decides to get up despite a little lack of sleep. He feels groggy. He feels a little ache-y. He’s quiet as he manuvers down the stairs. He knows that Seokjin is driving today and he doesn’t feel like waking him up early and getting a lecture.

There’s a smell coming from the kitchen and Hoseok quite literally almost has a stroke when he sees you pottering around the kitchen in his hoodie and your shorts (which the hoodie is covering so it looks like you’re wearing nothing but his hoodie). You’re making pancakes and there’s all sorts of toppings already lined up on the counter. When you turn, you give Hoseok a smile.

“Morning, Hobi!”

His heart flutters in his chest. All he wants right now is to kiss you. You look so good in his clothes... You’re smiling at him and the sun is bursting through the windows. You’re glowing. He can still see that subtle hint in your eyes where you’re burning up but it seems you’re pushing it back for the time being. Maybe you relieved yourself before he woke up?

“Morning...” he has to be honest, he’s a little... taken back. You’re not usually a morning person. He knows this because one time you slept over and you had an 8:30am lecture the next morning. It took him, Jungkook and Jimin to get you out of bed and then for some reason you decided to temporarily bond with him for the morning. He had to drop you off at class and you had a toothpaste mark on the corner of your lip, your hair was just pulled into a messy ponytail and you’d thrown an outfit together. You were glaring at anyone and anything that came within a 1m radius of you except for Hoseok. So seeing you standing there smiling with a spatula in your hand at 7am is most likely the most shocking thing he’s ever seen.

“I made pancakes.” You hummed, turning back to the stove.

“I can see...” he’s still a little tired and his voice is so husky. He looks so good right now with a little bit of a bed head and his eyes not quite as bright as they usually are. You pretend the heat on your face is from the heat of the stove and you laugh it off quietly. This is fine. You’re fine. Fine.

“Would you like one?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Hoseok is sure he’s never tasted anything this good in his life. You tell him that it’s your grandmother’s recipe and he makes a mental note to meet the woman who taught you how to cook so well. Right now, you’re seeming like the full package. Until Hoseok reminds himself that he doesn’t do relationships. It’s too hard. But then again, it’s you. He’s looking at you again and you’re not looking at him. You’re currently overloading your pancake with syrup and he doesn’t know how you can intake so much sugar so early in the morning. He doesn’t understand why his heart is threatening to burst open his chest but he scoffs down his packcake so that you’ll make him another. It’s not long before the other members start to wake.

~^*^~

“-WHEN I’M WITH YOU ALL I GET IS WILD THOUGHTS!” The chanting around you has you shrinking further into your seat. Not that it did anything, you have Taehyung on your left and Namjoon on your right. Hoseok is sitting right in front of you with Jimin on his right and Jungkook on his left. Yoongi is in the passenger seat and Seokjin is driving.

Taehyung is trying to get you to dance with him in the very limited space and you’re trying to become invisible. Hoseok is laughing and you swear your heart is leaping into your throat. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right, you didn’t. You’re burning a nice hole in the back of Jimin’s leg when your phone makes a noise.

From: Jimin ‘stop glaring at me’

To: Jimin ‘I wasn’t’

From: Jimin ‘I can literally see you in the mirror’

To: Jimin ‘in that case it’s just my face’

From: Jimin ‘no it’s not. Especially when you’re looking at Hosoek it ISNT’

To: Jimin: shut it Park

Jimin turns and gives you a flash of his smile and if you were close enough you would have hit him. Taehyung gives you a curious look and you bat him off.

“White girl wasted on brown liquor! I probably shouldn't be around you! 'Cause you get wild, wild, wild! You looking like there's nothing that you won't do!” The boys are still belting out the lyrics, but Hoseok’s head turning to lock eyes with you makes you nearly whimper. Fuck. He knows.

You don’t know how, it’s not even that logical that he would know about 1) your fat crush on him 2) your current horniness levels being through the roof 3) your want to ease your horniness with your big fat crush - so why are you panicking?! Jimin wouldn’t have told him. Jimin is an asshole, but he knows when to stop. He wouldn’t tell Hoseok. You hope.

When you pull up to this gorgeous summerhouse, you’re blown away by the scenery that surrounds it and well, the house itself. So much so that Taehyung has to pull you out of the car.

“This is technically Seokjin’s parents’ but they only use it for like two weeks in July so it’s ours for the rest of the year.” Jungkook explains and you nod at his words. You look around and Hoseok, despite being in a conversation with Seokjin and Jimin, is staring right at you. You look away.

“We could totally skinny dip.” Taehyung muses.

“You seven are more than welcome to engage in said sausage fest. I don’t feel like getting algae in my vagina.” You roll your eyes.

“Strictly speaking, you can’t really get algae in your pus-“ Namjoon is stepping over now.

“Why are you guys talking about [First]’s pussy?” Oh, there’s Hoseok, too. Great.

Please, lord, just let a small [First]-sized sink hole open up right under your feet and KILL YOU.

All seven members are now debating on if you can actually get algae in a vagina and you’ve literally never felt more uncomfortable. Hoseok is laughing at the chaos he’s had a hand in causing and your heart constricts alongside the bubbling, angry pit in your stomach. A pair of ripped denim shorts, a huge oversized white t-shirt (so large that he has to tuck it in to the front of the shorts so that it doesn’t look like a dress), an orange cap and matching vans. He looks... hot. As usual, in line with every other Jung Hoseok ™ look, he is so fucking hot.

Instead of standing around with the boys, you venture inside for a while. The house is very spacious but there’s only four bedrooms which means that everyone is going to have to bunk up. Apparently Seokjin normally gets a room to himself so he’s a little disgruntled at having to share a bed with Yoongi. Jimin is quick to pick Taehyung to bunk with and Jungkook decides he wants Namjoon because “Namjoonie Hyung sucks at switch games” which means... you’re bunking with Hoseok.

Holy shit you’re bunking with Hosoek.

You honeslty don’t know why you’re freaking out because you’ve slept (not like that) with Hoseok before. You guys like to cuddle every now and then and sometimes you’ve just straight up told Hoseok you’re sleeping in his bed because it’s really comfy (he has a memory foam mattress). Many times you’ve woken with his arms around your waist, nose pressed into the crook of your neck. But right now, something feels different. It feels like... like something has shifted monumentally between you and Hoseok. You’re starting to think that he really did hear you last night. You’re starting to think he knows you have a crush on him and you feel so stupid. There’s no way he likes you back so now you’re stuck with having to share a bed with him.

The first day is quick to pass as you get to the house at like 2pm. Seokjin whips up lunch and you guys sit out the back, looking at the large pond/small lake that sits at the back of the house. It’s a relatively warm day and it goes by pretty quickly. Before you know where you are, you’re lying in a bed next to Hoseok. It’s dark and your shoulder is touching Hoseok’s because somehow you also got stuck with the small double. Apparently it’s “too sexual” for two guys to share a bed and be that close but you know it’s bullshit because Jungkook and Taehyung literally compared dick sizes by whipping them out and holding them side-by-side. How is that- you know, you don’t even want to venture into that anymore.

You don’t know if Hoseok is asleep next to you. His chest is rising and falling but his breathing is a little too fast for someone who’s sleeping. He also keeps fumbling with his hands just a little and you’ve slept next to him enough to know that he stills when he’s officially asleep. Even so, you refuse to call out to him. But... he’s so close. And you’re beginning to burn up again. Oh god why now? Why next to Hoseok? Which reminds you, you need to smack Jimin when you see him tomorrow. Making you lie in this small-ass bed with Hoseok of all people, fully knowing how physically pent up you are. You find yourself rolling over, turning away from Hosoek and gulping in a breath. You are t h r o b b i n g. Since when had you become so hot? Before you know where you are, your fingers are over the material of your pyjama shorts and you’re biting into the pillow so that you don’t make a sound.

Fuck. This is so wrong. This is so so wrong. But you can’t help yourself. 13 months you been in this hell-like state. 13 months you’ve suffered. Your body can’t handle it any longer. You know how wrong this is. Getting yourself off with Hoseok lying beside you. Your friend Hoseok. Heavens above, you know he’s a sex god. You’ve heard more than your fair share of his sexcapades and you know girls don’t cry out like that if the sex isn’t great. You have a great mind to just roll over and beg him to fuck you. But you can’t. Because it. is. Hoseok. Because you know you’ll never live it down and you’ll definitely end up crushing on him more if he fucks you good. Your fingers are working at your bundle of nerves and oh, Lord, you’re close already. Can you come like this? Is this as needy as you’ve gotten? You’re willing to come for the first time in like four days sleeping next to one of your best friends/crush?

You don’t get the chance. Hoseok rolls over, grunting a little as he does. His arm tangled around your waist and he pulls himself close. He hums in your ear. You freeze. Your fingers are digging down into your core. Your eyes are wide open now and your heart is beating so quickly. Hoseok doesn’t make any further movement. He’s sleeping.

Except he’s not. He knows exactly what you’re up to and you are not about to come right next to him like that. Even with the pillow muffling you, you’re still a little loud and whiney. He’s smirking as he listens to your racing heart and your rugged breath. He’s pinning your arm against you and he knows you won’t move now. You’re trapped like this until he really does fall sleep. You’re trapped with your fingers on your cunt, so close to coming and nothing gives Hoseok bigger pleasure than knowing you’re shut down again. How much further will you need to be pushed before you crack?

The next day, you wake after Hoseok. He’s already up and you find him outside bending open the open bonnet of a red car. It’s a Golf R and you’re not entirely sure where it came from but Hoseok seems pretty busy so you sit down on the porch steps and wait for him to notice you. He’s gone with some ripped jeans today and a white tank top. His muscles flex every time his arms dip in and out of the metal and you’re flushing already. Get a grip, girl, it’s only 8:45! Hoseok turns after a while and flashes you a smile. Then, he’s calling you over. You don’t think that you can stand but you push yourself up and make your way towards him. {Part 2}

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bangtan smut #jhope #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope smut #hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok smut

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starkerhowlter · 4 years

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Daddy Stark’s Surprise

Ship: starker Rating: Explicit Contains: DD/LB, Feminization, biting, Consensual Power play, light Choking, slut-naming, namecalling, degradation, begging, praise-kink, Mirror Sex, Daddy Kink, dom/sub... probably more. Words: 2953 Summary: What Should Peter do to make this Valentine's Day better and different than others? How can he make this one unique?

Read it on AO3

A/N: Oh, my Gods! I'm posting my first smut fic.... By far, this is not my first smut fic I have ever written. Instead, this is the first time I have posted it!!! Woohoo!!! I hope you love it as much as I do! Also, this is sort of a companion fic to this fic, but it can be read alone!

Thank you so so soooooo much to my beta, @plueschpop! Be sure to go and give her ALL the love for her help in bringing this fic to life.

Peter looks at the outfit laying on the bed, excitedly. He checks his phone again, waiting for the text from Tony that says he's home. Instead, he gets a notification from J.A.R.V.I.S. that Tony wants to see him in the living area.

"There he is!" Peter smiles at the man, waiting to see what's in store. "Happy Valentine's day, princess."

Peter's face brightens when he sees the Spider-bear holding a bouquet of roses on the couch. He picks the stuffed toy up and hugs it to his chest, and then hugs Tony, "Thank you, Tony, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!" The billionaire laughs and kisses his boyfriend's forehead,

"I'm not done with you yet, Peter. I have some other surprises for you."

The boy tilts his head, curiously, innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I have a few other surprises for you tonight, baby." Tony purrs, "Starting with this." He pulls a box out of his jacket pocket, slipping it into the 21-year-old's hands.

"Wha--" Peter opens the box, accidentally dropping the lid in surprise, "How did you--"

Tony smiles as the boy removes the necklace from the box, and looks at the charm. The little heart gem, brown like his eyes, sits with a tiny golden crown over it. The heart around the little gem meets at the crown reads "Peter" on one side and "Tony" on the other. It's perfect. He smiles as he shows Nat, Wanda, and Carol. All three coo and giggle with him. Thor wraps an arm around Tony's shoulders, commenting on how the gift was a magnificent choice.

Peter drops the necklace into Tony's hand, smiling shyly. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, I just want you to help me put it on." Peter smiles and turns around.

Tony smiles at the boy's face and places the charm just beneath his collar bone and connects the clasp behind his head. The boy shivers at the feeling of his nails brushing his spine, and squeaks at the kiss pressed to the base of his head.

"I'm gonna go see what Bucky's doing up there..." He murmurs, "Meet you upstairs soon, princess?"

"U-Uhm... No!" His voice cracks, as it does when he panics, "I'll come and get you!"

Tony laughs, somewhere deep in his throat, and releases the boy, "Alright..." he draws out the 'i' sound, and then walks in the opposite direction of the team and his young boyfriend.

___

Once inside of their shared apartment, Peter looks at the lingerie he has laying on the bed. It all feels like too much, but he knows that his daddy will love it. The idea that Tony may tear the boyshorts sends tingles up his spine. With a deep breath, Peter begins stripping. First his T-shirt, then his jeans, and then his boxers. Carefully, he folds his clothes and places them in the hamper. "Mr Stark is going to love this."

He starts with the Miniskirt-boyshorts combo. Carefully sliding the lacey material up his thighs, making sure everything is covered enough to be teasing. Next, he rolls the little white fishnets up his legs, settling the band at his midthigh. It looks perfect. The bralette comes next. Tony hasn't ever seen him in one before, but he had tested the theory with photos from lingerie magazines left around their house. He always makes sure to leave them open on the men in the outfits, being sure that there is an emphasis on which one Peter likes. He has also varied the choices. From more masculine picks, like boxers and a tight tee, to more feminine picks like the outfit he's wearing now. Peter always notices that Tony lingers more when they're feminine selections than he does when they are masculine.

Silently, he hopes that Tony wouldn't realize the fact that the outfit doesn't fit right. His thighs have grown since he started working out for Spiderman. His hips have widened naturally, causing the rest of his body to change shape too. Clearly, this piece was meant for a female user, but he vows to keep it on, no matter the fact that the band at the base of the bralette touches his abs slightly higher than it does on the model. He will be okay. "Tony's gonna love it," he tells his reflection, making sure everything is perfect.

"Hey, Fri?" "Yes, Peter?"

"Can you turn on the reference photos I had you save earlier?"

"Sure, Peter." She lights up his mirror with all of the files that Peter had saved. Every photo of the pink eyeshadows, brown eyeliners and lipglosses lay against the mirror. He sighs, trying to mimic the photos of the models and coverboys. He fusses over it until his eyes look perfect. Pink eyeshadow, a little brown eyeliner and just enough lipgloss to make his lips look soft. Before leaving the room, he grabs a sheer black robe.

"Do I look too feminine?" he asks his reflection before walking out of the apartment. It was risky, sure. He could get caught, he could get kicked out, a lot of things could happen...

----

"Sir, everything is ready for you~" Peter calls, leaning against the wall, thin fingers playing with his new necklace.

Upon noticing that Bucky is sitting there as well, he yelps and wraps the black robe around his midriff, "Oh, sorry, Mr Barnes, sir! I didn't realize you were here!"

"It's okay, Peter. Also, remember how I told you to call me Bucky?" Bucky smiles, trying hard to look away.

"Right, sorry" Peter smiles at Tony's laugh, waiting for him to reason with him.

After what feels like forever Tony rises, patting Bucky's knee, "Right, I've gotta go take care of... that... Ahem... Don't stay up here pouting for too long, okay?" Bucky shrugs, causing Peter to smile sympathetically at him. He turns though when Tony begins heading towards him.

'Finally,' Peter thinks as Tony presses his thin body to the wall.

The inventor kisses him, "Did you see how hard of a time you were giving Barnes? He couldn't take his eyes off you. For a reason." Peter blushes, his cheeks dark pink as he hides his face in Tony's neck. "Aww, baby's shy~"

"Shush!!" He tries to sink inside the sheer material wrapped around his body. "Can we... Can we go upstairs, please?"

Tony laughs darkly, "Why, worried he'll hear your pretty noises, princess?" No matter how much Tony expected it, the nod Peter replies with catches him off guard, "What if he wants to?"

"Will you two go away!" Bucky laughs.

Tony laughs, chasing the young scientist down the hall, "Go. Go Go!" In the elevator, Tony nearly dies laughing, pushing the button repeatedly. "I swear, both of our lives flashed before my eyes right then."

"Oh yeah?" Peter smirks, "Are you scared, sir?"

"Of what? Do you think I'm scared of Barnes? No. Not anymore. I have no reason to be. He's dating one of my best friends!" Tony smiles sliding his arm around the younger's waist before leading him out of the elevator and into their apartment.

The moment that Peter's back hits the closed door, he knows the answer to his earlier suspicions. Tony won't stop staring at him, as though trying to decide just how he wants to take the boy apart. "So," Peter finally breaks the silence, "I'm guessing you like your surprise?"

Tony laughs breathlessly, "What gave you that impression?"

"Oh, I don't know, could it be the fact that you are looking at me like you want to eat me? Maybe the way you can't stop eye-fucking me? Or maybe it's the fact that you're --" Peter grabs Tony through his skinny jeans, "hard for me right now, Mr Stark." The younger takes his glossy bottom lip between his teeth, chewing the side seductively. "Fuck..." He whispers, hoping the other doesn't catch it. Tony's cock always felt so good in his hand. Heavy, hard, perfect.

"What was that, Petey?" He presses the spiderboy's body harder against the door, causing his grip to release, and his head to fall back. "I forget how fucking needy you get for me. So wanton just from touching my hardon through my jeans? That's a new level of easy." Peter shivers, a fruitless attempt at getting some sort of friction.

"Daddy..." He whines, trying to get his attention, but failing.

"You know, I could tell you were nervous to show me this, Princess. Were you worried I wouldn't like it?" He runs his hand down the young scientist's chest, teasing his nipples through the thin bralette, "Worried that I would think you look bad?" His hand continues its journey downwards, to the band of the micromini, "Were you worried that I would cast you out?" Peter nods silently, feeling called out. "Well, I wouldn't dream of it, Peter. You look amazing! I can't get past how delectable you look right now. This skirt looks perfect on you."

"Show me?" Peter asks, offhandedly. At that moment, Tony has never been more thankful for the wall of mirrors in their room. The inventor takes Peter's hand, pulling him down the hallway. "Where are we going?"

"You asked me to show you, baby." He replies when they enter the bedroom. "And I plan to stick to my word." Tony intertwines their fingers, pressing his hand to the back of Peter's. He takes his now open palms and places them on the mirror's glass surface. Afterwards, he taps the toe of his shoe against Peter's ankle softly, causing him to spread his feet. Streaks-be-damned, because nothing looks better than Peter does right now. The young Queens boy looks amazing, head down, hands spread on the mirror, and legs far enough apart that it causes him to stick his ass out to keep his balance, the small charm that marks Tony's ownership dangles between himself and his reflection. "Now, little spider," Tony growls in his ear, "look at yourself."

Peter raises his head and catches sight of their reflection. The whimper that tears from his throat sounds wrecked, needy. "W-woah." His flushed cheeks tint pink as his chest rises and falls, clearly turned on. Peter casts his glance down to his microskirt and catches sight of the precum already smearing across his lower stomach.

"Look how fucking needy you are, baby. Already desperate for my hands on your body?"

"Yes, Mr Stark."

"Where would you like them?" He asks, "Here?" Tony places his hands on the boy's waist as he begins kissing his neck from behind, licking the chain lightly.

"Yes, Mr Stark," Peter repeats, knowing what it does to the other man. He doesn't know when, but his eyes slip shut. About the same time, his breathing speeds up, causing his heart to pound.

"A-a-ah, Peter. I want you to keep eye contact with yourself. Watch your face as I take you apart."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Such a good boy, aren't you?" Tony asks as he sinks his teeth into the side of Peter's neck, leaving a perfectly angry ring of teeth divots behind. A shiver wracks Peter's body. "Oh, you liked that? You like when daddy sinks his teeth into your neck, marking you as his?" The boy nods, pushing his ass back into Tony's crotch. "Fuck, Peter, don't."

"Don't what, sir?" Peter feigns innocence, "Do this?" he presses back again, grinding his ass harder. "Does that turn you on?" his voice sounds mocking, as though he's trying to feel bad for him, but it's more fun to laugh, "Pity, you look so pretty like that."

"Where's that confidence coming from, Peter?" Tony asks as his fingers trace over the younger's throat, touching the bite mark he'd previously made. His other hand continues its venture down Peter's body, pressing in some places and scratching in others. At his mid-thigh, Tony stops. "These are the best part of this whole look, baby boy." He snaps the band of the fishnets against Peter's thigh, causing him to gasp.

"Mr Stark, please!" He begs, pressing again, trying to get the dom to crack. "I just need you to... Please!" His voice cracks as he begs, the comments coming out ragged.

"God, Princess, I haven't even gotten you undressed and you're already whimpering for me. May I take this off, baby?" He asks, snapping the back band of the bralette. Peter squeaks, arching towards the mirror, nodding. Tony smiles, satisfied with the response, "Off." With the single statement, Peter's scrambling to get the fabric off of his body. "Skirt too." Peter follows orders, stripping in front of the mirror, maintaining eye contact with Tony's reflection. "Fuck, baby. We may have to do the mirror thing another day."

"What's wrong, daddy? Struggling to keep your cool just because your baby stripped?" Peter smirks, grinding back. Tony's nails drag across his abdomen, leaving thin red tracks in their place. "Please, daddy."

"Please. Please what?" Tony struggles out, "What do you want? Wanna show off for me? Or do you want daddy to get you off while you watch yourself? Hm? Because after we do that, I plan to fucking rail you into the bed," He growls.

"All of it, please daddy! Whatever you want, just wanna cum for you!" He whines, all of his snarkiness melting away. "Please, I wanna be good for you! Please, please, please!"

"How's this?" Tony walks the two backwards, before sinking to the floor. "C'mon, little boy, sit down with me." Peter nods, sitting with his back to Tony's chest, leaning against him. Tony leans back against the bed, sliding his hand back between the other's legs.

"C-can you take your shirt off, daddy?" Peter murmurs, already beyond wrecked.

"What?" He asks, leaning his head over the boy's shoulder.

"C-can you take off your shirt, daddy, please?" He asks again, trying to raise his voice.

Tony chuckles, "Sure, little one." the inventor strips off the AC/DC Tee he'd been working in, smiling at how quickly Peter leans back against him.

"Like feeling you everywhere." He murmurs, nestling back against Tony's scarred chest. Tony smiles, kissing his neck and shoulder. His mechanic's fingers creep along Peter's inner thigh, appreciating how he shivers, how his hips jump when Tony's fingers finally touch his dick. "Pretty baby boy. Look at yourself." Peter picks his head up off of Tony's shoulder, opening his eyes, staring at himself in the mirror just a few meters from them. "God, baby."

Tony slides his hand down the other's shaft, playing with the vein, and the underside of the tip. "Play with my nipples, daddy, please!" Peter begs, arching up when his other hand slides up to pinch at his little pink nubs. The younger whimpers helplessly, watching his cock twitch and his chest wrack with each little shiver. "Please, more!" Tony drops the boy's dick, moving his fingers down past his balls ghosting them just underneath, pressing on his perineum. He gasps, moaning.

"Can you get the lube for me, baby? Out of the drawer right there?" Peter nods wordlessly, reaching up to the drawer, whimpering at the loss of Tony's warmth. "Thank you." He murmurs, taking the bottle. "Come sit back against me, Peter. It's time I give you your rightful attention."

After a bit of scuffling and whining, Peter's got fingers back on his nipple and thighs. "Please, just... I need your fingers, daddy."

"You have them. Just not where you want them. Isn't that right, baby?" Peter nods, trying to move his hips. He attempts to work his hands downwards, hoping that at least one will end up on his hole.

"What's the jerking for, baby? Is there something you want?"

"Y-your fingers."

"Clearly but where?" Tony growls, popping open the lube and squirting some on his fingers.

"Here!" Peter grabs his wrist, dragging his lubed fingers down to his core, trying to get the point across.

"Aw, are you wanting daddy to finger you?"

"Yes, please, Mr Stark!" He begs, trying to push the fingers inside of himself.

"Alright. First things first, this" He grabs Peter's hip and pulls him back against him, "has got to stop. You may be a slut, but you /are not/ a whore. Quit. Fucking. Acting. Like. It." Tony pushes his forefinger into his asshole, causing Peter to melt against him. "What's your safeword, baby?" Tony asks, working the finger in.

"I-it's red." He gasps, pressing down onto Tony's finger, "M-More!" Tony presses a second finger to his hole, pushing it into the fluttering ring carefully. "Such a good boy for me." Peter whimpers at the praise, silently begging for a third finger. Tony grants the wish, pushing a third finger alongside the other two. "I--'m close, sir!" Peter begs, "Please, let me cum!"

"Why should I? You look so good like this."

"Please! I can't wait any longer!" he whimpers, little broken mewls slip from his mouth as precum pools at the head of his cock. "Daddy!" he gasps, trying to plead with Tony's reflection.

"Look at yourself, Baby. Watch daddy's little slut in the mirror. Watch how he falls apart, crying my name. I wanna watch you beg, princess."

"Please, daddy?" He tries, knowing good and well that it's not enough, "I'll be so good for you!"

"More."

"Please, daddy! Please! Please! Please!" Peter whimpers, jutting his hips up into the air, hoping for some sort of release. "Please, Mr Stark, it feels so good!"

"Fuck, Peter," Tony growls, biting at his neck. "Cum for me. But do not break eye contact. "

With a final broken whimper, Peter releases. "Thank you, daddy!" He presses against the man's hands, whining at the overstimulation, "Thank you, daddy."

"Don't thank me yet, princess. Now, it's time for your real present."

#starker #tony x peter #Nika Writes

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bibibuckleyy · 4 years

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my thoughts on ‘The taking of Dispach 9-1-1′

this was SUCH a good episode from start to finish! *pulls out a slide show* Now i’ll show you breaking down every. single. scene-

jk lmao...unless?

spoilers below the cut!

lord. have. mercy.

these hoes are givin me major heist vibes

tiffany bby ur the driver but for me to acknowledge you as such you better be Letty Ortiz good hun

wow these thugs are a lot my organized than i first thought like i know they was carryin guns but i aint know they was packin this much like damn

Oceans 8 who?

so i wanna know where they just...got a cop car???

OH HELL NAH Y’ALL BEST NOT MESS WITH TERRY

I MEAN ANA MAY BE HIS SISTER

AND SHE MAY BE MAKIN MOVES ON EDDIE

BUT IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE TERRY FLORES SO YOU GET YOUR GUN AWAY FROM SUNSHINE BBY

it’s kinda funny rewatching this scene when you know what’s about to go down

like i’m cacklin like ‘oh shooooot dramaaaa’

but i’m also like ‘SOMEONE GRAB JOSH AND RUN’

“temporary maintenance, happens all the time” cool cool cool

i’m not freakin out you’re freakin out

josh and maddie are like friend goals i love their dynamic like yoooo

hi yes could you please get that gun away from terry’s head i would really appreciate it.

OMG SECURITY DUDE NOOOO

wow ur like the only line of defense in the dispatch center and they just kicked ur ass

is this where our tax dollars are goin??

fly high josh’s mug, fly high

that absolute look of fear on his face tho, still breaks my heart

josh russo defense squad post up homies

“i love you, howie” nope nope nope didn’t like it the second time either

when that gun went off

LET ME TELL YOU

i just,,,waited for the blood to start comin out of terry

thank god it wasn’t him

good scene lmaooo 9-1-1 writers i hate you all lmao lmao

“bees are the least of your troubles here, sweetheart” I HATE YOU DUDE

someone call mama grant please

“we’ve got dispatch” i do not like this ma’am i’d like to speak to the manager

“you’ll shoot us” man shut the hell up-

“no, we’ll shoot the person next you you” this dude is insane

lookin like mr.clean’s evil cousin LMAOOOOO

“you only do something like this so you can do something...worse”

um whAT-

“you’re being paranoid, she’s fine” CHIMNEY NO NO NO

i don’t think i’ve ever thrown this much popcorn at my tv in my life

as chimney said “don’t do it man” just picture a 5′5 lightskinned girl tripping over her blanket while yelling “DO IT CHIM, DO IT!” and you’ll have me

“sorry, we are experiencing a high call volume” BITCH MORE LIKE A HIGH CRIME VOLUME SOMEBODY GET MAMA GRANT DAMNIT-

*screams* BUUUUUUUUCK

HI BBY

ooh nice shirt, i guess pink isn’t the only color that suits ya

he looks good in all the colors

whole damn snaaaaack

not to be an idiot on main but seriously, who watches the watchmen?

“i miss like an earthquake or something?” lmao chim is a whole vibe

“wait....why are you calling 9-1-1, is everything ok?” paired with that cute adorable concerned face he made is making me cry ok we don’t deserve buck T-T

“she’s at the call center, what could happen?” AT LOT ACTUALLY

OH THANK YOU JESUS IT’S ATHENA FUCKIN FINALLY

*cries* mama grant you won’t believe the day i’ve had

“he’s my husband” LMAOOOOO WHAT

whoa tiffany we’ve already had our fair share of mail bombs here that bet’ not be what i think it is

THE PACKAGE IS VIBRATING AND BLINKING TAKE COVER-

ohhhhhhhhhh

it’s just takin out the security systems lmao

“technical difficulties” BITCH MORE LIKE CRIMINAL DIFFICULTIES

“i bet this woman really thinks you’re...worthwhile.” JOSH BBY DON’T LISTEN TO A WORD HE SAYS EVERYONE LOVES YOU

ahaha thanks i did not need those flashbacks it hurt enough the first time

“a woman called about an omelet, i dispatched an officer”

“to the restaurant?”

“not exactly”

???

“i tried calling josh, but no answer” aww josh and buck are friendssssss :)

JOSH HAS BEEN ADOPTED BY THE FIREFAM PASS IT ON

JOSH YOU GENIUS

YOU SMART SMART CINNAMON ROLL

MAMA GRANT IT’S TIME TO MAKE SOME MOVES

“nO NO CHIMNEY DON’T HANG UP!” i shouldn’t have laughed so hard

oh great he’s hastily grabbing his jacket. he’s about to do something rash and irresponsible

....someone call eddie.

that’s some good heist music right there

the bad guys look stressed....good.

“you’re here so i can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t do anything foolish” BUT YOU LEFT BUCK

OK BUCK I LOVE YOU BBY

BUT YOU HAVE THIS HABIT OF TURNIN INTO SPECIAL AGENT 007 REAL FAST WHEN YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN TROUBLE MAN

HE’S THE ‘EVERYONE BEFORE ME’ MEMBER OF THE FIREFAM

mama grant i ain’t questionin your authority or nun but like???

WHY WOULD YOU NOT KEEP AN EYE ON BUCK TOO?

HE’S THE MOST LIKELY CANDIDATE TO DO SOMETHIN STUPID

thats some reckless drivin there buckaroo

buck who were you tryna fool tho

athena only knows one golden retriever dude in this city who drives a grey and black jeep

“ok now, don’t be mad” LMAOOOOOOOO

HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVE SCENES

HE KNEW HIS MOM WAS PISSED TOO LMAOOOO

athena’s look is sending meeeeee 😂😂

omg my god😭😂

“hey buck”

“...hey chim”

athena has some dumbass kids yo

the best part is, she knows it

the way mr. clean broke his neck when dude said ‘police cruiser’ LMAOOOO

“and if it’s not normal?”

“we’ll find out”

*blasts boss bitch*

i love the way buck is kinda concerned for his mom tho

and athena’s just like ‘it’s no sweat sweetie i do this every day’

“shoot her”

BITCH I HOPE THE FUCK YOU DO

YOU’LL BE A DEAD SON OF A BITCH

I’LL TELL YOU THAT

“shoot her, now”

try her bitch, see what happens to yo ass.

the 118

the call center

the entire fandom

we will collectively end you

“we got a report of a code 77″

THANK GOD THAT GOT ATHENA OUT OF THERE

what is a code 77 you say?

“ambush, proceed with caution”

well it sure nuff aint indecent exposure

*boss bitch keeps playing cause that was super smart for her to give out a code 77*

“maddie is smart, she can take care of herself until help gets there”

HELL YEA SHE CAN

SHE KICKED DOUG’S ASS SHE’LL KICK YOURS TOO

“they’re not gonna wanna leave behind a room full of witnesses”

i’m-i’m fine, i swear-

“killing people, your solution to every problem”

excuse me? do i hear morals??

they’re really fighting each other

they some grade a stupid right there

there’s no way they are pullin this off

terry

terry what are you doing

TERRY

RUN TERRY RUN GO GO GO

OH SHIT

JOSHHHHHHHH

i thought they were gonna shoot terry

BUT JOSH CAME THROUGH IN THE CLUTCH

wowwwwww dispatch is a lot more badass than i thought

these dudes are hard core

OH JOSH NO BBY

THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HURT

aii square tf up mr. clean we don’t hit josh here and you gon have to pay for that one

the way everyone is just quietly sobbing tho

it saddens me

“I need another thirty minutes”

i’m really enjoying watching this dude’s plan crumble around him

swat posted up aii i see yall

“we’ll try to get eyes in a damn windowless room”

well when you put it that way it sounds like this is hopeless

“i’m sorry i thought you were crazy”

“i’m sorry i wasn’t”

wow i don’t think i was supposed to laugh at that

and chim bein concerned for maddie is literally one if the best things ever y’all.

completely unrelated note, anybody else see bad boys for life?

“yeah i’m ok, my ears are just ringing a little” with the TEARS and the SNIFFLES and him SMILING THROUGH THE PAIN JOSH IS TOO PURE FOR THIS

“why do you think we asked for so many RA units?” BITCH I KNOW YOU FUCKIN LYIN

for those of y’all that ain’t kno, RA units are rescue ambulance units

way to reassure people, lady

it’s like she said ‘everyone might be lightly shot by the time this is all over’

“so you are worried. it makes sense, cause all your friends keep dissappearing are they even in the same building?” WITH THAT LOOK OF STRAIGHT SPITE DAMN MADDIE BUCKLEY, DAMNNN

we stan the BAMF BUCKLEYS

“oh my god, LINDA??” lo key thought this was real for a second

“latex! is there latex in your gloves?” greg come on man you planned a heist you can’t be this stupid

SURPRISE! LINDA IS ALLERGIC TO BEES

ENJOY YOUR EPINEPHRINE ASSHOLE

OH WOW

WOW DISPATCH

Y’ALL JUST-

WOW

EVERYONES GOT GUNS AND EVERYTHING OH MY GODDDDD

GIVE IT UP FOR DISPATCH

you know it’s really funny, cause tiffany ain’t nowhere to be found

“next one goes in your head” OOOOOOOOOOOH SHE’S A BOSS ASS BITCH BROOO YESSSSSSS

(i know, two different songs, but ya gotta admit, it applies)

“you don’t get to die”

i just-

hands down, most powerful line in the whole episode.

it’s an odd form of vengeance, saving the man that attacked you multiple times from the release of death

that’s what it would’ve been tho

a release

he would’ve died, and he wouldn’t of had to pay for any of his actions

but instead, josh saved his sorry ass

so he gets to pay for this in the land of the living

the best revenge, actually

and, josh saved a life

he’s worthwhile

“i’m not goin back” well i knew mr. clean was gonna die from the beginning sooooooo

“we’ve got dispatch” and it’s finally over

i’m kinda bummed that we didn’t get to see SEAL!buck or the rest of the firefam but we got BAMF!dispatch and that was enough lmao

kudos to those off duty dispatches as well, like y’all just walked past the dead body and moved on from the whole hostage situation to do your already stressful job

CHIM’S FACE WHEN HE SEES MADDIE I AM SOBBING

THEY SAID MADNEY RIGHTS Y’ALL😭😭😭

this hug is everythinggggg

lo key buck watching from afar breaks my heart ahaha

“she already has everything she needs”

....this is tea for another day, but...

buck, you do know people need you as much as you need them, right?

....right?

still not over that hug tho

ayeeee wassup bobby!

how was the camping trip i was extremely against?

oooooh i love the crime recaps!

i may or may not have been like buck in the bank episode when he said ‘i’m some confused, can you start over’

...ahem....

“wait....you didn’t round her up too?”

ok listen....

while i don’t condone stealing and and the extreme amount of violence they used,

i do condone outsmarting men that think less of you because you are a woman

you are a boss tiffany, and i’m actually kind of sad you got caught

“tiffany was the real mastermind” can i just.....

*BLASTS BOSS BITCH FROM THE ROOFTOPS CAUSE WOMEN OWNED THIS EPISODE! THEY WERE SO DAMN BADASS*

thanks 9-1-1 writers for that, btw.

gotta admit, as much as they rip out our hearts and stomp on em, they know what they are doin

jake you shady shady bitch

ngl tho both plans were solid

maybe if it was done completely by women it would’ve worked :)

“looks like your trip’s been delayed...by about 5 to 15 years” athena you got the best lines yo

jake f’ed up the other plan too lmaoo

like i said, if it was all women, they would’ve pulled this off

and they end it with madney

gosh i loved this episode

So! These were my thoughts on 3x14! Let me know what you think, and hit up my ask box if you want me to post my thoughts on another episode! Later taters!

Oh yeah, if you liked this you can find my thoughts on ‘Pinned’ here!

#911 fox #911 on fox #911 season 3 #911 spoliers #madney #maddie buckley #evan buckley #chimney han #athena grant #my thoughts #kat lmaooo

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flashflyingfish · 4 years

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Better than a Dozen Red Roses

Written for @aphrarepairweek2020

Day 1: Flowers

Summary:

Why give flowers to your loved ones? They die after a week and there are plenty of other more thoughtful gifts out there. Why not give them something useful, right? At least that's what Canada thinks. Canada/Ukraine

Ao3 Link

The smell of chocolate wafted through the warm summer’s air as a quiet humming filled the small kitchen. The melody was accompanied by a light tapping of the woman in front of the oven’s foot. Ukraine doubted anyone alive today would be able to correctly name the tune she hummed, but then again didn’t every nation have one or two melodies lost to time? Such things reminded her of just how much time had past since her childhood.

Though unpleasant, lonely, and cold she often found herself looking back at that time with a sort of fondness only those burdened by the weight of adulthood can. A time where one could sing around the campfire without the thought of tomorrow’s responsibilities hindering the experience.

She knew that her childhood was not something she really wanted to return to, but she found a sort of comfort in allowing her mind to romanticize certain aspects of it. It made her feel almost human. If she dwelled on the thought, she could reasonably argue that her blooming relationship with Canada was a symptom of her desire to feel younger then she was.

It was true no matter how she tried to deny it, Canada was younger than she and he made her feel younger than she had in decades. When around him she could practically feel the years fall away. He made her feel comfortable being slightly sillier than was perhaps appropriate for the amount of heartache she’d felt.

This hadn’t been the reason she’d said yes to his proposal of a date six months ago, but boy did it make her decision all the more worth it. She cherished the fact that a man like that was her boyfriend, after all, how often does one find a man like him? Polite, caring, considerate, and to her delight, energetic. She sometimes wondered what he saw in little old her, she certainly hoped it wasn’t her *ahem* assets.

Speaking of the man of the hour, she turned to the door as a soft rhythmic knock rang out. Turning the oven off, she made her way over.

Looking through the peephole, she saw he was wearing a grey t-shirt with a red and black flannel button-up shirt over top. His blue jeans and running shoes completed the iconic Canadian look she doubted he’d done intentionally. She felt a little silly for wearing her white high heels and black and white checkered dress. She hoped she wasn’t overdressed; this was just dinner at her hotel room after all.

Unbolting the lock, she put on a wide smile as she opened the door for her companion of the evening.

“Hello Matvey,” she said as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She didn’t miss the way he sucked in a breath when he caught sight of her. The action made her let loose a soft giggle.

“Hi, Katyusha… you look great.” Canada’s voice was filled with amazement as he gave his reply. He was always so amazed and impressed no matter what she wore, she’d bet he’d act the same if she wore her dusty old overalls.

Averting her eyes to hide the blush that covered her cheeks at his compliment, she noticed that the man’s hands seemed to be hidden carefully behind his back. She allowed a playful smile to grace her lips as she looked him dead in the eyes.

“I thought you western men brought ladies flowers?” She struggled to keep from laughing as she asked her “question”. Her smile only grew when she saw the way his face fall. She’d caught him in his little game, she bet he’d planned on saying something cheesy before wiping out the flowers. Men, they all tried the same tricks.

“Oh, you wanted flowers” his voice was small as he spoke. His shoulders hunched and he looked away from her confused blue eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry Ukraine I didn’t get any. I-I, well I thought you would be tired of them… but um, well I can go get some! I’m sure there’s a place open.” The speed at which he said the last sentence amazed her before she quickly realized that he was really about to run out and get her some.

“No! Um, I mean no.” She clasped his hand as she yelled for his attention. His eyes portrayed the same confusion a puppy does when first scolded.

“Matvey I was just kidding. I don’t actually want you to run out and get me some. I just… I’m sorry” She had been expecting the surprise behind his back to have really been flowers but didn’t dare tell him that. She already felt terrible for making him feel like he’d let her down.

“Let’s just forget the silly flowers and enjoy the meal I’d promised you” She was dying to know what exactly he was hiding but after that screw up she wasn’t about to try and predict what it was again.

Still holding his hand, she guided him into the kitchen before returning to her cooking. The space was just large enough to fit a modest-sized dining table and four accompanying chairs. Hearing Canada take a seat in one of the chairs behind her, she took the brownies she prepared out of the oven and turned to the two plates of food resting on the countertop.

She hoped he wouldn’t mind the simpler choice of meal. If Belarus hadn’t have insisted on taking her along on her wild goose chase to find out if the man Russia had talked to yesterday was in cahoots with America then she’d have gladly spent the afternoon preparing something more special than ham, mashed potatoes, and a bare-bones salad.

Turning to her guest, Ukraine was about to offer her sincerest apologies when she saw that he didn’t look disappointed at all?

“Is that black forest ham? That’s one of my favourite types of ham, how did you know Kat?” Canada looked about ready to drool at what Ukraine considered a lousy meal.

“This is fine for you? I can do better than this Matvey, you don’t need to pretend to make me feel better…” she quietly admitted and allowed her words to trail off before the tears she felt forming could escape.

“Why wouldn’t I like it? It’s a homecooked meal made for me by my girlfriend!” He confidently reassured her. Seeing her still looking unsure, he sighed before gently calling her name.

“Kat, I order out most nights or just eat Kraft Dinner. This is more than fine, I promise. I wasn’t expecting restaurant levels” his words were soft and kind, as he stared into her eyes. This was just another aspect of him that she loved, she was just as anxious as he, but he never made her feel silly for working herself up. He empathized with her, and she tried to return the favour whenever she was given the chance.

Once assured that Ukraine wasn’t about to cry, he began to dig into the meal. Realizing that if she too waited any longer to eat, then her food would be cold she also helped herself. The pair ate in a semi-uncomfortable silence before a bird flew against the kitchen window. Startled into laughter Ukraine suddenly found conversation flowing freely between them again.

Taking a slow drink of the wine she’d poured for the pair; she saw Canada’s eyes drift over to the brownies left atop a cooling rack. The brownies were one of the few parts of the meal she actually felt proud of. Her guessing his favourite type of ham was simply coincidental but he’d given her his recipe for his favourite brownies, and she been trying for two weeks to get them just right. Good thing too, she doubted the rest of the girls would even be able to look at another brownie after this.

“They should be cool now; do you want a piece?” she said as she bit her lower lip in anticipation of his answer.

“I’ll never say no to dessert unless it’s uh England’s idea of a dessert” he raised his eyebrows for effect at the end of his sentence.

Grabbing two smaller plates, she headed over to the counter. She desperately tried to ignore the sound of paper rustling behind her and tried to not get excited by the prospect of finding out what he had actually brought her.

Carrying the treat back over to the table she tried to sit still and focus on the warm dessert in front of her. She felt like a schoolgirl waiting for her crush to respond to a note passed in class, it was just a present. He’d given her gifts before but never had she had to wait this long to find out what it was. The suspense was killing her.

“Are you okay?” Canada was obviously trying to sound put together, but she noticed the slight tremble in his voice as he asked her. What had him so worked up? Was it her comment about the flowers?

“Well… do you notice anything special about the brownies?” she lied. Well, it wasn’t really a lie; she was worried that he wouldn’t like them. Blinking once or twice at her in confusion he turned his attention to the food on his plate.

Grabbing his fork, he took a piece and popped it in his mouth. After a few seconds of chewing, he drooped his fork. Ukraine clasped her hands together tightly at that. That wasn’t the most promising-

“Is this my recipe?”

“…yes?”

“… I couldn’t even tell. It’s better than how I make them!” His voice was a mixture of laughter and a smile. She felt herself start laughing too out of sheer relief. Looking back, Ukraine realized that it was silly to worry, even if it hadn’t have been the best it wasn’t like he’d have yelled at her.

“I didn’t think you have something special for me too.” The statement came out relaxed, but his posture stiffened as soon as the words left his mouth. Before she could even get a word out, he chuckled faintly.

“Katyusha, I wasn’t exactly truthful when I said I didn’t have any flowers” Canada shyly admitted.

Reaching under his seat he pulled out a large flat box tied shut with a yellow ribbon. Sliding the box across the table to her he rested his head on his palm and watched her investigate it. It wasn’t very heavy and didn’t make any noise when shook it gently.

“Go on” The excitement in his voice coming across clear as day to Ukraine. Opening the box, she found a white dress with flowers embroidered on the hem of the skirt. It was made from a light and flowy material that she bet would breathe well on a hot summer’s day.

“I noticed that your closet didn’t have any summer dresses and when I asked Russia yesterday, he confirmed. I hope you like it.” The smile that covered his face as he spoke was simply infectious and she found herself mirroring it in kind.

“Better than a dozen red roses.”

#aphrarepairweek2020 #aph canada #aph ukraine #cankraine #day 1 #FlashFlyingFish's writing #hetalia fanfiction #Better than a Dozen Red Roses

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simpandstanx · 3 years

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Bakugou X Female Reader (Oneshot) NSFW

This idea is cringe but I'm going to start anyway lol, please don't hate.

Pairings: X Female

Warnings: NSFW, cussing

After a long day of training, school, sparring and schoolwork, the girls of class 1A went to relax and laze around in the common room. Mina being Mina, suggested that they play truth or dare, this was mainly because she knew who liked who and she liked the idea of hooking them up. And to her luck, after a little convincing most of her friends agreed to it.

Y/n had loved this game since she was little, but she knew how Mina was, so she planned on being extra careful not to expose any information or habits she had. Little did she know what was coming to get her next.

"Alright! Let's start the game with y/n!" Mina cheered gleefully

"Umm, okay I guess" Y/n said slightly hesitantly

"So, Y/n, truth or dare" She said the last words slow and teasingly, knowing what she was doing to Y/n's mind already effortlessly.

"Truth"

"Who's your crush?"

"Minaaaaaa" Y/n whined "You can't ask directly dangerous questions like that! We just got into the game!"

"Okay, okay. Do you have feelings for anyone in our class?"

"Yes"

"Who?"

"Ask that next time, you're only supposed to ask one question."

"Hmph! Fine!" Mina said, puffing her cheeks and crossing her arms cutely.

"Jirou, truth or dare?" Asked Y/n

"Truth"

"Have you ever dreamt about someone you had feelings for unintentionally?"

"Not that I know of, but I guess I've had a couple fantasies in the past few days... Uraraka, truth or dare?" Continued Jirou

"Dare!"

"I dare you to go kiss Midoriya"

"Aaahhh???" Uraraka yelped out of surprise as she turned bright pink and strted floatin circles in the air.

"A dare is a dare, you have to do it!" Mina said, this time with a smile on her face.

"O-okay, fine...BUT ONLY ON THE CHEEKS!"

"Deal" Said Jirou

Mina followed Uraraka into the boys lounge with her phone recording everything happening in it's presence. Uraraka slowly strolled into the room looking at the floor with slightly pink cheeks. Well, pinker than usual I mean to say.

"U-um...Guys...Is Deku-Kun here?" She asked clearly embarrassed.

"Yeah he's right here!" Said Kirishima with his usual huge grin, but this time it seemed like he was plotting something.

"What do you need Uraraka-San?" Asked deku, shyly smiling

Not answering his question, she spaced further to him and bent down to his face level.

"Uraraka-San? What's going on? What are you doing?!" Asked the poor boy extremely flustered.

Still ignoring his concerned comments to her, she puckered up slightly and pecked his cheek.

Then the room broke out into silence. Nothing but it. All the guys but Todoroki were sat there wide eyed. Bakugou however, was surprised. And he made a curt face while shooting Deku a dirty look.

Uraraka bolted out of the room as fast as she could leaving the boys in a hot mess and Mina stood out side the doorway giggling. She was now hot on her heels desperate to get back into the girls' room.

After a while of calming down and showing all the girls the video, Mina, turned to Y/n.

"So, Y/n. You can't escape this time! Truth or dare?!" Mina asked eagerly and excitedly

"Dare" Y/n said not wanting to reveal her feelings for the attractive male, Katsuki Bakugou

"I dare you to go into the boys common room and try and seduce Bakugou!"

"Mina I-" Y/n started before she was cut off by Mina.

"No!" Y/n gasped

"A dare is a dare, Uraraka did hers!"

"Fine" Said sternly

She started stomping towards where the boys were, Mina chasing her trying to keep up.

Once they entered the room Y/n started going near Bakugou and slowly leant over him, her breasts hovering over his forehead as she ran her fingers through Bakugou's hair and started to play with it and ruffle it.

"What the hell?!" Bakugou muttered slightly flustered

"Sshhh" Y/n whispered seductively into his ear whilst running her fingers down his waist and palming his cock through his pants before putting her knee on it and laying her body on his with a fist holding the collar area of his black T-shirt.

"WHAT THE HELL Y/N?!" Bakugou repeated this time while yelling

"I said sshh, leave everything to me~"

"Answer my question you brat!"

Y/n then began to peel of Bakugou's shirt and lay her hand on his chest looking down at it. Bakugou's breathing became hitched and rigged and husky and he was now trembling in the hands of his secret crush. He liked what she was doing to him, but he couldn't admit that in front of the rest of the guys now could he? All he could do was hope she wouldn't stop.

All of a sudden Y/n took her own clothes off until she was in her bra and panties, she kabedoned him again and lifted her hips up to make him more tempted.

"I'm all yours, devour me." Said Y/n in a low voice.

Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore he slapped Y/n's ass as hard as he could leaving a handprint mark on it. Then he threw her on the floor, growling, mina still filming in the corner and the guys watching the show, and started kissing her and took his pants and boxers off.

In the process of distracting her with a kiss he rammed into her as hard and vigorously as he could, they were both now naked except for Y/n's bra. He soon un-hooked that too and began fondling with one whilst swirling his tongue around on the other one.

The guys had a gut feeling that they should leave now so that's what they did, Kirishima dragging Mina along with him by her wrist. She quickly set the phone on the floor next to the door with a perfect view of the two linking on the floor.

*footsteps*

*Ahem*

Bakugou's head immediately shot up and Y/n's eyes opened up.

"And what exactly do you two think you're doing?" Asked Aizawa

Bakugou growled under his breath once again.

"Get out" he panted

"I hope you know that I can call your parents in a situation like this. First of all it's on school dormitory property and second you're all old enough but you're still minors."

"So what?!" Bakugou said, with Y/n groaning under him as he was still moving inside her going deeper each few seconds... Until:

He hit her g-spot.

"Aa-aa-a-h" Moaned Y/n in pain and pleasure

Bakugou then grunted and went even deeper and repeatedly hit the same spot completely ignoring Aizawa.

"Did you not understand what I just said?" Asked Aizawa

"Get lost" Bakugou moaned, coming close to his climax

"Bakugou, I'm close-" Y/n yelped off key

"Good, now cum on my cock princess" Said Bakugou in a deep voice

Then there was a loud thunder of noises from Y/n as Bakugou released inside her

"Looks like I'll be meeting your parents soon then"

"NO!" Y/n yelled trying to sit up as Bakugou pulled out of her

"I-i'm sorry, it won't happen again!"

"Fine."

"But Bakugou, you were dominating her, so you’re going to hear from me."

"No, no I won’t."

"I’ll see you in detention."

(Total word count: 1176 words)

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checkurwindow · 4 years

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Crash and Burn

3 months.

That’s how long it’s been since Tony and y/n’s once close relationship had deteriorated to absolutely nothing.

3 months of longing, heartbreak, and regret, yet he only had himself to blame. She had tried, she tried so hard to make things work between them. Every time he changed his mind, every time he hesitated, she was the one who compromised to satisfy him, yet she never complained, not even once. He was too much of a coward to admit it, to admit how much he cared about her to her, and himself.

He kept coming up with reasons why they shouldn’t be together, why they couldn’t be together, why they would be better off apart, because that was what he wanted...right? He wanted this, he kept assuring himself that this was the right thing to do, that this was the only way he could keep them both safe. Everything had been fine for a while, until one late night.

Making his way downtown to a bar he knew y/n frequented with her friends, he should’ve known that he was bound to run into her, but as fate might have it, he was immensely drunk and rational thoughts had been thrown out the window quite a while back.

He should’ve known that she’d be there, laughing and chatting happily with her close group of friends, the frequent clueless guy walking up to their booth and offering to buy her a drink.

Fools. He thought to himself, they were all fools, thinking they could be with her one night and come out the next the same. That night, he unknowingly tested the theory himself.

She had caught him staring, but instead of looking away, she held his gaze, the tension between them agonizing for both parties, so it wasn’t long before one thing led to another and they were stumbling around his room in the dark. The next day when he woke up albeit hungover but more importantly sober, he realized what he had done, what he vowed to himself he wouldn’t. He told her it was a mistake, a night that couldn’t possibly happen again. Seeing as mere seconds later she stormed out of his place with tears brimming her eyes, she didn’t take it too well.

“Are you even listening to me?” Fury’s voice brought him out of his flashback.

“No, no I wasn’t,” Tony admitted, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I said that I need the team in Quebec, take London, Y/l/n and Knightly with you too,” He explained, “you leave in 4 hours , go tell y/l/n , I haven't been able to reach her comms, ” he finished and gestured for Tony to leave the room.

He sighed as he started his search for her. When he finally found her, and with her was Eli London, a fellow SHIELD agent of hers. He said something to her, making her almost burst out in laughter. Oh how Tony had dreamed of being the one to constantly be the one to make her laugh. His thoughts stopped along with his feet when Eli leaned closer to her, their lips dangerously close.

He quickly stalked towards them, anger building up inside him, yet he knew he had no right to be angry or jealous, they weren't together, he had made it clear to her that night, yet he can't help but long to be in Eli's position.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat behind them, they instantly sprung apart.

"Y/l/n, we're due in Quebec, be at the runway in 4 hours," he said and turned on his heel, starting to walk away.

"What's the mission in Quebec for?" she asked and he reluctantly turned around.

"Fury will brief us on the way, so I suggest you stop flirting and get your priorities straight, because I don't need another incident like Boston on my conscience," he spat out, venom laced his words even though he didn't mean it.

She winced at those last words, a look of hurt flashed across her eyes as memories of how she failed to save all those people because she wasn't focused washed over her. He knew that he had struck a chord he didn't mean to, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that last part," he grabbed her hand before she was out of reach and apologised but it was no use, the damage had been done.

"No, you shouldn't have," she stated and pulled free from his grasp before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving him stood there dumbfounded and angry at himself for letting it slip out.

4 and a half hours had passed and yet only one of the agents had arrived. Tony was worried, he had started fidgeting with his watch, his hair, anything to take his mind of her.

"Sorry we're late, we got caught up with training," Y/N said as she and Eli rushed onto the tarmac.

"Good, I was starting to get worried about you," Tony said, locking eyes with the only person in the group her cared about.

"That's no use as you lost the right to care 2 months ago," she said and brushed past him and into the awaiting quinjet.

He walked in last, his eyes scanning the jet for empty seats when his eyes landed on the only open one, of course, he thought as he slipped into the seat next to her.

She took out the book she was planning to read on the flight over when her phone vibrated. It was a message from her brother, Jaden.

Good luck with the mission! I'm buying you dinner when you get back! Love ya!

She smiled to herself as she began to write a reply when she noticed Tony's eyes on her.

"Is that Eli?" He asked quietly.

Normally it would've been a natural question, seeing how close she and Eli had grown these past few months, especially when her relationship with Tony, whether it be professional or romantic, had crumbled.

"I don't want to do this right now, Tony," she warned, "and frankly, it doesn't concern you who texts me and who doesn't, as I'm sure you know you've made abundantly clear time and time again. And no, it wasn't Eli, it was my brother," she didn't bother giving him the chance to explain, simply putting on her ear buds and opening her book.

He let out a frustrated sigh, this wasn't how he wanted this conversation to go, he wanted to apologise to her, about everything, and tell her how deeply and overwhelmingly in love he was with her.

It was an hour into the peace and quiet when Jace, another agent, pointed out the looming weather in the distance. "It looks pretty bad," he said.

Y/n, of course, didn't hear him with the music playing loudly in her ears.

Tony turned towards her, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“What?” She growled, very obviously annoyed. He could hear the voice of Lin Manuel Miranda blasting through her earbuds.

“Definitely Hamilton” he thought to himself. She had always been obsessed with the musical, constantly trying to get him to sing along.

He opened his mouth again to speak up but everything went dark.

“Jace? Jace wake up!” Tony heard Steve say a few feet away from him as he sat up, propping himself up with his elbows.

He coughed loudly into his blackened sleeve, his throat dry and hoarse and his ear ringing.

“Tony, are you okay? Can you walk?” Natasha asked as she stood up, slightly limping.

Tony stood up, his leg working somewhat fine, “Yeah, I’m mostly fine, but my chest hurts like hell,” he explained to her.

“Guys? Guys where’s-“ Eli stopped himself to breathe as he felt an overwhelming sensation of pain run in his leg, where a large gash visibly cut across his left thigh, “fuck,” he breathed deeply, “ where’s y/n?” He questioned.

“I-I don’t know, I was still conscious a few seconds into the crash, I saw her face but then I blacked out again,” Jace confessed anxiously.

“W-wait, I-I hear something, something banging against metal,” Eli panted as he finally caught his breath.

They followed the sound to about 20 feet away from where they were before. Below a large metal piece of the plane lay y/n, a large gash on her right cheek.

“Oh god, y/n!” Tony rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, “W-What hurts?”

“You mean what doesn’t hurt?” She quipped weakly before coughing again, blood staining her cut lip.

He glared at her,letting her know that it wasn’t the time to be making jokes.

“I-I can’t feel my chest, my head is throbbing, I think my right leg is bleeding, honestly everything hurts,” she said and sucked in shallow breath, her body not allowing her to do any more.

Tony was panicking, his supposedly genius mind unable to find a coherent thought for the first time ever, “E-Eli! I need you to help me here!” He yelled at the younger agent, “On 3, we have to lift this up,” he said, his eyes trained on the metal frame that held y/n down.

Eli nodded, his hands finding a place on the frame, “1...2…”

“3!” They pushed together with all their might, desperate to do something to help y/n, but to no avail, even with their combined strength, it wasn’t enough to lift it off of her.

The other gathered around, injured but not nearly as severe as y/n.

Tony tried again, this time without Eli’s help, as he was sitting next to him, applying pressure on his own wound.

“Why are you guys just standing there? I need your help!” Tony pleaded with them, almost out of breath.

“They know...Tony, it’s too late…” her soft voice said, volume barely above a whisper.

“N-no, there was to be something we can do, I can’t let you just…I won’t let you just leave me like this! Not…” he sucked in a deep breath, “ not after I left you,” he conceded.

She reached out, taking his hand with hers, “It’s okay, Tony, I-I…” her breathe became softer, her eyes fluttering close.

“No-no,” his thoughts clouded and his vision became blurry, tears rolling down his face, “you can’t just- Fuck!” He yelled at no one in particular, “pl-

Tony woke up in a cold sweat, his heartbeat racing and his mind all over the place.

It was a dream.

He looked over to his bedside clock, 2:36 am

He jumped out of bed, throwing on a nearby t-shirt and ran down the hallway, rapidly knocking on her door. After 15 seconds of silence, he tried knocking again, his head hanging but he still had the slightest bit of hope.

He heard the sound of a door opening and looked up, the door still closed.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Rhodey, who was sleeping over, asked.

“W-where is she? I need to talk to her,” he said, furiously knocking on the door again. His knuckles were starting to hurt but he kept knocking as fast as he could.

“Tony…” Rhodey started, but Tony didn’t look at him, his attention trained on the door in front of him, “Tony, stop…” Rhodey said, grabbing Tony’s hand and pushing it back down.

“W-where’s y/n?” Tony asked desperately.

“Tony please, don’t do this-”

“Tell me, please. I need to talk it out with her, I know I’m wrong but I need to tell her I love her and I need to make everything right, I-”

“Tony…” Rhodey’s voice becomes softer, “the crash was 2 years ago…”

It wasn’t a dream.

Author’s note: Welp, I uh, I wrote my first one shot?? I’m not used to writing one shots so do let me know how it was!

Your favourite Tumblr (well this is new, I’m usually on wattpad lol) author,

CheckUrWindow

#marvel #tony stark #iron man #oneshot #x reader #tony stark x reader #mcu

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nemesyis · 4 years

Text

The Mansion - Part 1

Needs

@noonachronicles

A/N People “ahem” should pay closer attention to what they post in their tags… *looks at noonachronicles* I use it as ammo

Warnings: PWP, fluff, vanilla, intense love making, public smoot, implied alcohol usage, voyeurism if you squint.

Prologue | Part 2

After a month of waiting, your official membership card for The Mansion had arrived. Tomorrow was the first time you would be visiting as a full member, and able to take advantage of all the amenities membership had to offer.

The past few weeks, you had participated in casual evening parties, getting to know the other members and applicants. As it turned out, your new acquaintance Daesung was not only a member, but the doctor you had to visit for your STD testing. That had officially severed any sexual attraction you had been harboring for him, especially when he had complimented you on your hygiene regimen. Yup… friends ONLY.

Upon your arrival to The Mansion, you decided to head to the lounge… better known as the White Room. Decked out in minimalist decor, it was pretty, although not your usual aesthetic.

Daesung was sitting at the bar enjoying a martini and in deep conversation with a pretty blonde. He noticed you and winked before turning his attention back to his companion.

Taking your spot at the bar, you ordered a drink and turned to face the room. Scanning the gathered group of people, some in groups, a few couples talking softly or making out, and the odd singleton such as yourself.

Your attention was taken by a slender, well built man. He noticed you looking and walked across the room to join you. The first thing you noticed about him was his long, slender hands. You may have a hand kink now.

“The name is Baekhyun, you are?” he asked as he slid onto the stool next to you.

“Y/N, nice to meet you” you took a sip and forced your brain to center itself… you were damned if you were going to make yourself look like a jittery mouse, way out of her depth.

Baekhyun smiled and leaned in close, whispering in your ear “Relax, I won’t bite unless you want me too.”

Swallowing down your anxiety, you smiled whispered back “I hope you don’t bite too hard.” He smiled and took your hand.

Drawing you to your feet, he led you from the White Room. Opening the door to another room, this one was decorated in shades of blue, soft white curtains hung from the ceiling, light music played from hidden speakers. Soft moans and sounds of lovemaking came from one corner. They only aided in spiking your arousal. As Baekhyun led you to a corner, he sat you on a wide bed covered in soft blankets and furs. He sat next to you, caressing your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You answered by pressing your mouth to his. He pressed back into your kiss, tongue seeking entrance to yours. Granting access, you tangled your tongue with his. His hands fisted in your hair, lightly tugging at your roots. Moaning into his mouth as he dragged your head backwards. His mouth found your pulse point, grazing it with his teeth.

“Y/N, please let me touch you” Baekhyun groaned, his pants becoming more uncomfortable with each passing moment. “I can’t wait much longer.”

You took his hands, leading one to your breast, the other to the zipper of your dress. “Yes… please touch me. Touch me however you want” you moaned breathlessly.

Baekhyun drew your zipper down, baring your shoulders. He pulled your dress down, exposing your lacy pink bra. “How pretty, did you choose this with someone in mind?” He grinned, before sucking bruises into your collarbone. Arching into him as he lay you back on the soft blankets. He sat up long enough to tug your dress off along with his shirt. You kicked off your heels before sitting up and dragging him down to press his bare chest into yours.

Baekhyun tugged at the delicate lace of your bra, baring your breasts to his attention. Bringing his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking lightly as he settled between your thighs. His arousal apparent as he ground against your lace covered core. Your dampness seeped through the crotch of his pants as you bucked into him.

“Please, I need something… anything…” you panted. He grinned against your flesh, pushing his clothed erection against your core.

Baekhyun slipped his free hand between your bodies and under your panties. Rubbing light circles against your clit, making you squirm. “So needy, what am I going to do with you?” he panted into your mouth as your moans became louder and more incessant. His eyes grew wide as you managed to hook your big toe into a belt loop on his pants and attempted to push them down.

“Give me more… please Baekhyun… I need to feel you”

He obliged, sliding his fingers into your slick heat. Long fingers curling as he scissored through your folds. You gasped, as he brushed against your g-spot making you cry out. He muffled the sound with his mouth, swallowing your cries of pleasure.

You grabbed onto the waistband of his pants, and tugged them open, pulling out his cock. He pulled back, kissing down your chest, nosing against your mound. He gently pulled down your soaking panties before spreading your folds and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Nearly coming off of the bed as a loud cry of pleasure tore itself from your throat. He withdrew his fingers from your core, sucking your slick from them before curling his arms around your thighs, holding you down. He devoured your pussy like a starved man, lapping up every drop as you came again and again on his tongue. After the third orgasm wracked your body, oversensitivity finally set in, and you cried out for him to stop.

Grinning up at you, your juices covering the lower half of his face. “Had enough already?” he laughed, wiping his chin with your discarded panties. He crawled back up your form, his cock looking red and neglected as it oozed precum on your thigh.

“Do you want me to take care of you too?” you asked as you attempted to sit up. He shook his head and gently pushed you back down. Looking at him questioningly before he claimed your mouth once more. Tasting yourself on his tongue igniting your arousal once more.

He looked down at the fresh wave of wetness that spilled forth from your core, grinning. “Can I fuck you?” he asked. A look of near desperation on his handsome face. You answered him by pressing your crotch against his, causing the head of his cock to nudge at your opening. “I’ll take that as a yes” he panted breathlessly. Kicking his pants the rest of the way off, he settled himself between your spread thighs. Gripping his length as he rolled on a condom before guiding himself into you gently. Mindful of how sensitive you were. “Fuck Y/N, how can you still be so tight after all that I’ve done to you?”

The feeling of being deliciously stretched open and full was amazing. It nearly made you cum again. “Oh fuck… Baekhyun… christ you feel so good…” you groaned as he fully seated himself within you. “Please move. I swear to god… please move!”

He obliged, rocking his hips forward, causing cries of pleasure to emanate from both of you. He pressed his face into your neck as you clung to him. He continued to fuck into you at a slow pace. His cock dragged against your folds, creating sparks of pleasure to dance along your nerves. You felt so connected to him, almost unable to remember where you began and he ended. Every time he plunged back into your warm heat, the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Increasing his pace, he kissed you passionately. Muffling eachothers moans of pleasure as he caressed your face.

Spreading your legs wider, bucking your hips to meet each thrust as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten. When you came, you knew this one was going to be explosive. This was exactly what you needed. The past three years of your dry spell, hundreds of dollars spent on batteries and toys had lead to this point. Your combined moans and groans had dissolved into heated panting as he pressed his forehead against yours. His pubic bone rubbed your clit the same way his cock rubbed your g-spot.

Baekhyun’s thrusts began to become erratic as he increased his speed. Causing you both to begin the tumble into oblivion. He let out a hoarse cry as he came. The feeling of his pulsing cock making the tight coil in your belly snap, pushing you over the edge. Mouth open in a wordless scream as your walls clamped down on his length. Milking and pulsating around him as you coaxed every drop of cum from his heavy balls. He filled the condom over and over. He wished he could feel you without the thin barrier of latex, feel his seed coat your insides. The intensity of your orgasm coaxed another from him, forcing his back to arch and the veins to stand out on his face and neck.

As you both rode out your highs, he kissed and caressed you tenderly. Panting heavily he braced himself on trembling arms “Wow… I’ve never experienced something that intense with someone on the first time” he said hoarsely. Gently extracating himself from your arms, his softened cock slipping from your warmth. He rolled off of you and reached for a nearby, strategically placed bottle of water. “Do you want one?” he offered as he held out another bottle to you.

Taking the bottle from him, you sat up shakily. “Do you always take care of first timers like that?” you laughed. Reaching for your now ruined panties, you grimaced at the thought of having to put them back on. Baekhyun took them from you and slipped them into his pocket as he slipped his pants back on.

Raising your eyebrow at him, he smiled. “Too keep as a reminder.” His statement caused you to go crimson. Self consciously putting your clothes back in order before sipping at your water. Looking around the room, you noticed a man sitting by himself in the corner, he was tucking himself back into his loose black pants. His pants had the tell tale signs of cum splattered across the front. Embarrassment made you turn another three shades of red. Baekhyun noticed and smiled.

“It’s not uncommon to be watched or do the watching around here. He evidently enjoyed the show as much as I enjoyed taking part in it.” He said, extending a hand to help you to your feet. Turning you to do up the zipper of your dress. “If you don’t want to be watched around here, make sure you let your partner know or find a private room.”

He kissed the top of your head and walked you towards the hall. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the other man watching you, a look of hunger in his gaze. The other man was extremely pretty. Lush, puffy lips set in a pout. The tip of his tongue poked through and licked along his lower lip before he broke his gaze and looked down at the floor. A pretty flush pinked his cheeks. You would have to remember his face… maybe he would be around next time.

#The Mansion #pwp #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #exo #exo smut #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #sorry not sorry #biddy gonna explode

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purrincess-chat · 5 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Original CH20

It only seems appropriate to end this fic with the same gif that opened it. Get your snacks and your tissues ready, lads. This is the end.

Previous First

Chapter 20 no tears left to cry

Alya leaned against her locker a few weeks later, smiling down at her phone where an interview with Marinette and Nadja played about her foundation to help past akuma victims as well as an update on Adrien’s treatment. She was happy to hear that he was doing well and even happier to be forgiven by someone who by all means shouldn’t have forgiven her, but Marinette had always been like that. Even if they weren’t the best of friends anymore, it was a big relief to know that she didn’t hate Alya for everything she did, and although she couldn’t take back all of those wasted years, she could make up for them moving forward by helping others and being a hero in her own right.

“Ahem, excuse me miss, but it seems as though you’ve captured my heart.” She smirked at Nino’s voice over her shoulder, turning around and stretching up on her toes to kiss him. “You working at the foundation today?”

“Yep! I’ve been working on the blog with Gabrielle. We’re going to interview someone today about their experiences dealing with akumas over the past few years and meet with a licensed psychologist on coping mechanisms,” Alya reported as they walked, and Nino’s smile softened. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just good to see the light back in your eyes,” he remarked, and Alya felt her cheeks warm.

As they rounded the corner past the library, Alya caught sight of Lila sitting alone at a table, leaned over her maths textbook with a bored expression. She pursed her lips before patting Nino’s back and stepping out of his arms.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” she said, and Nino quirked a brow but pressed on anyways as Alya entered the library. She took a deep breath before pacing over to sit across from Lila whose eyes narrowed the moment she sat down.

“What do you want?” She grunted.

“For you to listen,” Alya stated, clasping her hands together calmly on the table. “I don’t expect you to apologize because I know you’re not sorry, but you’re going to hear me out.”

Lila rolled her eyes, so she continued.

“I wasn’t entirely blameless in everything that happened, and I’ve come to terms with that, but I cannot deny that you used and manipulated me, and that’s not okay,” she said, gaze steady despite how Lila averted hers. “But even despite everything, I want you to know that I forgive you, and I hope that someday you find your true self underneath all those lies and stop manipulating people. It’s not healthy, and you’re just going to make yourself miserable in the end.”

“Is this some feeble attempt at making me realize the error of my ways and turning me to the good side?” She quirked an amused brow.

“No,” Alya said flatly. “It’s closure for me. I lost myself to you for a long time, but you have no power over me anymore, and I’m going to go live a happy life.”

“Whatever.” Lila rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to her homework, and Alya opened her mouth to say something then thought better of it and stood up.

She squared her shoulders as she walked out of the library, finding them much lighter than when she’d entered. All those years she’d been carrying extra burdens that no longer plagued her, and now she was finally free.

***

Sunlight streamed in from the window across the room as Adrien folded his last few shirts and tucked them into his black duffle bag. He smoothed the fabric before turning to glance at the window with a sigh. It had been five months since he’d checked into this mental hospital, and he knew a storm awaited him the moment he stepped out. Nevertheless, it was time. There was a lot of work to do.

“Are you all packed, Mr. Agreste?” The nurse poked her head in. “Your family is here.”

“Yeah.” Adrien turned back to his bag on the bed, zipping it closed and slinging it over one shoulder.

His heart pounded as they led him up the hall, through several locked doors and out to the lobby where two sparkling blue eyes met his, and he felt his nerves calm as she stepped into his arms.

“Is this everything?” Tom asked, taking his bag, and Adrien nodded.

“You could have asked for more clothes, dear. We have access to your house, and I could have gotten more for you,” Sabine said, placing a hand on her hip, but he simply shrugged.

“Everything I own is Gabriel brand, so I was more than happy to wear something of Marinette’s for a change,” he said, smiling at her sweetly. “A reminder of the people waiting for me.”

“We’ve arranged a room for you,” Sabine said with a wince. “We weren’t sure where you’d want to go once you were out, so we prepared it just in case.”

“Thank you. I’ll definitely take you up on that,” he said, then lowering his gaze, he pursed his lips. “I should go by the house to close everything out, I suppose.”

“You don’t have to do that right away,” Marinette started, but he flicked his gaze to meet hers with a smile.

“It’s okay. I’m ready,” he assured her, but she exchanged looks with her parents.

“Adrien, there’s something you should know before you go…” she started, biting her lip, and Adrien stopped, eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and she shifted her weight.

“It’s her…” She said. “She’s awake.”

***

There were a lot of emotions Adrien should have felt when he arrived at the mansion, but somehow as he stared up at the tall gate, he wasn’t sure he felt anything at all. How should he have felt after everything? Sad? He’d had enough of that. Betrayed? Tons. Angry? What would be the point?

The truth of the matter was, he just wanted to bury the past and move on. It was something that he’d struggled to come to terms with, but no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t change what had happened. All he could do was press forward into the future and live a good life. A free life. Doing what he wanted with the person he loved by his side. After everything, it sounded pretty nice.

The mansion was just as cold and empty as he remembered, the tall portrait of him and his father still hanging in the foyer. He’d always hated that picture because he didn’t like to think about his mother being gone. After all, it’s not like he’d known she was only a few meters below him the whole time. How could he possibly have known that? It’s not like his father ever spent time with him let alone told him his dark and nefarious plans to take over the world.

His bedroom was relatively untouched since the last time he’d be in it. Dust had settled on every surface, and he glanced around with a sigh before setting out to get what he came for. The only things he had interest in taking with him were a few gifts from Marinette from over the years, some photos, and a few other important documents and school books. He didn’t really have a use for anything else, and if he was being honest, looking at everything made his stomach churn.

He sat on his bed next to the box with a sigh, gazing fondly at a framed photo of him and Marinette with their cheeks pressed together, elated smiles stretched on their lips. The one person who had always been in his corner no matter what. His partner. His Ladybug. The girl who taught him to never give up hope, and looking down at their smiling faces reminded him that not everything in life was so dark. He would find happiness again, and this time it would come with freedom. The life he always wanted was finally at his fingertips.

He carried the box down to the foyer, stopping at the base of the stairs to look back over the house he’d grown up in. The house he’d been imprisoned in for so many years. It felt a little bittersweet to leave it behind, and his chest ached a little bit at the thought of never returning. It was stupid really. He should be happy to leave, but part of him felt a twinge of sadness. Most of the memories he had there were of isolation and loneliness, but when that was all you’d ever known, change seemed so scary. But he’d had a taste of life on the other side, and he didn’t want to look back.

Pursing his lips, he set the box down at the base of the stairs and climbed back up to his room. If this was the last time he’d ever set foot in the house, he might as well enjoy it and do all of the things he’d wanted to do for years. Was it juvenile to throw darts at his father’s portrait in the foyer? Probably, but something about seeing them pierce his stiff cheeks made him feel a little better.

“Do you really hate him this much?” He froze briefly at the voice behind him but threw the next dart after a beat without bothering to turn around. “He did what he did for us, you know. He just wanted us to be happy.”

“Yeah, how’d that turn out for him?” Adrien grunted, aiming another dart. “You spent years locked in the basement. I thought you were dead. I’d accepted that, and ya know, he could have just been a father to me, but instead he decided to be a supervillain. He decided to terrorize the city on a daily basis, and now he’s in jail and none of us are happy.”

She remained quiet at that, so he turned around to face her with a shrug. All those years he’d wondered what he would feel if he ever saw his mother again, but now as he looked at her, he couldn’t help but feel like he was looking into the face of a stranger. She looked the same as she had the last time he saw her, but after everything, he had to wonder if he’d ever truly known her at all.

“I’m not exactly thrilled with him,” he said before climbing up to retrieve his darts, and Emilie paced up to meet him, a hesitant hand raised to reach for him.

“You’ve grown so much,” she remarked, brushing her fingers through his hair, but he stepped away from her advances, trotting down a few steps to resume his game.

“Yeah, that happens when you spend 4 years in a magical coma. You wanna explain to me how that happened?” He quirked a brow as he aimed another dart, and Emilie averted her gaze. “I had a lot of time to think in the hospital. Time to realize things. You didn’t end up that way on accident.”

“I’m not entirely innocent either, I admit, but we just wanted you to be safe,” she said, fiddling with her ring. “You were our precious boy, and we never wanted anything to happen to you, so we used the Miraculouses selfishly. We didn’t realize the repercussions of using a damaged Miraculous until it was too late for me. If we had known then we never would have tried…and now when I look at you, I can only feel regret for all of the years that I’ve missed. You’re grown up now.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly the submissive little boy I used to be,” he said, sinking another dart into his father’s face. “Father didn’t expect me to be on the other end fighting against him, now did he? And it turns out he didn’t even need the Miraculouses to wake you up; he just needed a guardian, but then he wouldn’t have gotten to play the brooding villain with a tragic past and sappy motives, would he? Did he honestly expect me to forgive him in the end just because he was doing it for love?”

He held out his arms and quirked a brow, and when Emilie winced, he continued.

“I never needed either of you to protect me. I needed you to stop smothering me and let me be normal for once,” he said, clenching another dart in his hand. “I’ve been fighting on my own for years. Successfully, I might add. And who was I fighting at the end of the day but the very man who thought I was so helpless.”

“I don’t think he intended for any of this to happen. Neither of us did.” She flicked her gaze up to meet his, biting her lip as tears welled in her eyes. “We loved you so much.”

“Yeah, well you should have thought of that before playing with magic you didn’t understand,” Adrien said before landing the last dart directly over Gabriel’s heart and stooping to retrieve his box. “I’ve already closed out the deal on the house. With father in jail and you in a coma, they came to me to decide what to do with it, so I told them to sell the furniture and tear it down. Then we’re going to use the funds to build a new center for one of Marinette’s charities to help those who were akumatized and anyone suffering from trauma related to the akumas. I felt it was fitting all things considered.”

Emilie remained quiet as he headed for the door.

“And since you’ve been in a coma for a long time, I forgive you for not remembering,” he said, stopping in the threshold and turning to face her. “I’m 18 today. You and father officially no longer control me, so if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go live my life.”

“Adrien-”

“Goodbye, Mom.”

***

Marinette fiddled with the ring on her necklace as she sat on the bench at the train station, eyes fixed ahead until the person she was waiting on approached.

“Hey, am I too late?” He asked as she hopped up and stepped into his arms.

“Nope, he’s just getting his train pass squared away,” she said, stretching up to kiss him. “How did things go?”

“They went.” He shrugged, and when her eyebrows furrowed worriedly, he smiled. “I’m fine. I’m free now. Finally.”

“And what will you do with your newfound freedom?” She asked with a smirk, resting her chin on his chest.

“I’ve always wanted to see Belize. I’ve heard it’s-”

“Don’t,” Marinette sighed.

“Un-Belizeable.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she gave him a stern look. “But seriously, what do you say? You. Me. Christmas vacation in a few months? I think we more than deserve it.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, leaning against his chest with a sigh.

“You two can go anywhere you want now,” Tikki piped up from her bag, and Marinette lifted her purse with a sad smile.

“It’s weird, but in a way I’m going to miss being Ladybug and fighting akumas every day,” she said, touching her earrings reminiscently. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

“It was an honor having you as my chosen, Marinette. You were an excellent Ladybug,” Tikki said before flitting up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Tikki,” she said, cupping her in her hands. “I was happy to be your Ladybug, and I hope that your next chosen feeds you lots of cookies.”

Plagg poked his head out of Marinette’s jacket, averting his gaze awkwardly before floating out to hug Adrien’s cheek.

“I’m sorry things turned out the way they did, kid. I really hoped that your dad would come around for you in the end,” he said softly, and Adrien leaned against him with a smile.

“Being Chat Noir was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m glad that I had you as my kwami. You helped me feel a little less lonely all the time, and not to mention you taught me how to loosen up. I’ll never forget you, Plagg,” Adrien said, and Plagg closed his eyes, nuzzling closer.

“I’ll never forget you either, Adrien,” he said. “You’ll always be my Chat Noir.”

After a moment, Plagg pulled away abruptly, clearing his throat and taking his place next to Tikki, and Adrien and Marinette smiled in amusement.

“So you’ve said your goodbyes.” They turned to Master Fu standing with his suitcases. “All things must come to an end. You two fought very valiantly all these years.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Adrien said with a bow.

“Thank you for rising to the occasion,” Fu said with a smirk that faded into a frown. “I’m sorry for how the Miraculouses have plagued your life.”

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “Selfishness outside of my control plagued my life. The Miraculouses saved me. Being Chat Noir made everything a little bit more bearable and gave me the courage to reach for my freedom. So truly, thank you.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Marinette said, stooping down to hug him tightly.

“And I you, my young Ladybug. You have given me so much during your time. You helped me forgive myself for my past mistakes. You gave me hope for the future, and most importantly, you reunited me with the love of my life,” Fu said, placing his hands over hers. “You truly were a miraculous Ladybug, Marinette.”

She smiled, tears welling in her eyes as a voice announced a five-minute warning on his train, and the three embraced, their kwamis sandwiched between them.

When they pulled away, she removed her earrings slowly, placing them into the small box in her hand. She trailed her fingers over them one last time before closing the box and handing it to Master Fu. Tikki flitted in for one last hug, snuggling against her cheek as tears streamed down them. Once they pulled away, Marinette unclasped the necklace from around her neck, letting the ring slide from the chain into her palm before offering it to Adrien.

He eyed it in her hand a moment before picking it up and trailing his thumb over it. He really was going to miss it. All those nights in the rooftops attempting to charm Ladybug not knowing that over the next several years he would kiss her passionately every day. He wouldn’t trade those nights for anything. Not a single one.

Placing the ring in the box, he flicked his gaze back up to Plagg who stiffened.

“I’m gonna miss you, buddy,” he said, brushing Plagg’s cheek with his finger.

“Do you think we’ll meet again someday?” Plagg quirked a hopeful brow as Adrien closed the lid.

“If another tragedy like Hawkmoth were to take place, you two can never be Ladybug and Chat Noir again. Knowing your identities would put you both at risk,” Master Fu said, and Plagg slumped. “But in this modern age, it should be fairly easy to keep in touch.”

“Maybe we can visit you and Marianne across the pond sometime,” Marinette suggested. “We can pop over for tea any time.”

“That sounds nice.” Master Fu nodded.

“So this isn’t really goodbye then,” Plagg stated. “So there’s absolutely no reason to cry whatsoever because we’re going to see each other again.”

“Most likely,” Adrien said, placing the box in Master Fu’s hand, and Plagg peeked open an eye before flitting over to nuzzle Adrien’s cheek one last time, tiny tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Come visit soon, okay?” He blubbered, and Adrien chuckled, holding him close.

“I will. I promise,” he said before Plagg floated back down to Master Fu’s duffle bag where the Miracle Box was neatly packed away.

“Tell Marianne we said hi, okay?” Marinette said as Fu gathered his bags. “And take her out somewhere nice, okay?”

“I will,” Fu said with a laugh. “It’s been 80 years since we first met. That’s quite a long time to wait for a first date.”

“Just a little bit, yeah.” Adrien smirked. “Take care, Master.”

“I’ll see you both soon,” Fu said with a nod before retreating to his train car, and Adrien draped an arm over Marinette’s shoulders as they watched the doors slide closed. They stayed until the last car of the train disappeared through the tunnel before slowly heading home, finally free of their duties as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

“We’re back!” Marinette announced as they walked through the doors of the bakery, and Tom quickly moved around to greet them.

“Did you see your friend off?” Sabine asked, joining her husband.

“Yeah, he’s on his way to London,” Marinette said, stooping to kiss her cheek.

“Is this all you brought from home?” Sabine flicked her gaze to the single box in Adrien’s hands, and he shrugged.

“Everything in that house was bought for me. These mementos are mine,” he stated simply.

“Well, we did prepare a little surprise for you,” Tom said with a grin, motioning for them to follow as they headed for the stairs.

On the second floor, Tom opened the door to the spare room and gestured Adrien inside before draping an arm over his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s not much, but it’s yours for the time being, if you want it,” he said as Adrien stepped inside, glancing around at the cozy room. “It might seem a little lackluster compared to what you’re used to, but-”

“It’s great,” Adrien said, turning to him with a smile, tears welling in his eyes. “Thank you for always opening your home to me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Sabine cooed, stepping forward to pull him into her arms. “This place is your home too. You have always been welcome here, so stay as long as you like, and know that we love you.”

“Thank you, Mom,” he said, hugging her tight. “I love you too.”

Tom and Marinette joined them in their embrace, happy tears trickling down their faces as Adrien held onto them tightly. The people who loved him no matter what. His family. The one he’d found for himself, and he was never letting go.

“Now, we do have a few house rules for you two,” Tom said once they separated, placing his hands on his hips. “At the end of the night when it’s time for bed, your bedroom is down here. Is that clear?”

“Of course.” Adrien nodded. “I promise not to do anything to disrespect either of you while I’m staying here.”

“Good.” Tom ruffled his hair.

“We’ll give you a few minutes to get settled in, but we baked a cake to celebrate, so it’s upstairs whenever you’re ready,” Sabine said, patting his shoulder as they slipped out to retreat up the stairs, leaving Marinette leaning in his doorway.

“They mean it when they say it, you know,” she said once her parents were gone. “They really do love you.”

“I know,” Adrien said with a smile, sitting on the bed with a contented sigh. “I’ve always known.”

“Papa is going to be watching us like a hawk,” she pointed out, and he chuckled at that.

“It won’t be long before we’re flying out to New York.” He shrugged. “Aubrey wants to leave as soon as possible once we finish school.”

“Knowing her she’ll want to leave that night,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes before pacing over to sit beside him, leaning against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple softly.

“I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth, love bug,” he murmured against her hair.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side, chaton.” She brushed his nose with her finger before leaning up to touch her lips to his, and for the first time in his life, Adrien didn’t feel trapped or alone.

He was safe. He was warm. He was home.

**Five years later**

“Does the Eiffel Tower look different to you?” Adrien asked as he peeked out the window of Marinette’s jet as they circled around to the airport, and she lowered her magazine with a quirked brow, leaning over to look out.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen it last, but I think it’s still the same. It looks different when you’re not climbing it,” she said with a smirk, and Adrien sat back with a laugh.

“I once scaled it in 4 seconds flat,” he boasted as if she’d be impressed, but she simply rolled her eyes and brushed his nose with her finger.

“I was there when you did it, remember? You were so proud of yourself,” she said, lifting her magazine again. “I never wanted to disappoint you, but I did it in 3 and a half once.”

“What?” He gaped as their pilot’s voice sounded over the intercom, instructing them to fasten their seatbelts and prepare for landing, and he pursed his lips into a pout.

“I’ve already arranged a car to take you to your parents’ house. Tomorrow morning, you have an appearance at the De-evilize foundation then a phone interview with Mode. At 3 o’clock you’ll meet with your friends for tea for the rest of the evening,” Danielle listed, scrolling down her tablet screen.

“Thank you, Danielle.” Marinette nodded, taking Adrien’s hand as the plane descended onto the runway.

“It feels a little weird to be back. I guess in a lot of ways I’ve tried not to think about Paris since we left. At least, not the bad parts anyway,” he said as they paced across the runway to the car, hand-in-hand.

“You’re in a better place now than you were last time we were here,” Marinette remarked before he helped her into the car and climbed in after her. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Yeah,” he said, wiping his palms on his pants with a sigh. “I know, but I’m just a little nervous I guess.”

“You don’t have to see him, you know,” she pointed out, placing a hand over his. “You can sit with me while I do my interview.”

“No. I need to go. I’ll never really heal if I don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Okay.” She pressed her lips together. “One thing at a time. That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed, relaxing his shoulders a little. “I’ve missed your dad’s croissants. We haven’t had them since they came over for Christmas.”

“I’m sure he’s made you plenty,” Marinette giggled, leaning against his arm.

Tom and Sabine welcomed them with open arms when they arrived, Tom giving them both a bear hug the moment they walked in the door, and Adrien was reminded that not all of his memories of Paris were bad. There was a lot of good still left there, and it gave him the courage he needed the next day to face the thing he’d been running from all these years. The past that he hoped to leave behind, but it was time to finally face it. To face him one last time.

“I’ll meet you after, okay?” Marinette said the next day on the curb outside their foundation headquarters - the center they’d built where his old house used to be. She stretched up to kiss him hard before he ducked into the town car and closed the door with a sigh.

Several times on the way he debated telling the driver to turn around, but he knew that he needed to go. Five years was a long time, and he needed to finally rid himself of his darkness because he wanted to live a long and happy life with Marinette. To put the past behind him for good and close the door without ever having to worry about it again, and this was the only way to do it.

Security was tight, but he barely flinched during the several searches he had to undergo as they made their way deeper into the prison. He wasn’t sure what to think about the whole time or what to expect when he saw his father, but when he was finally led in wearing a gaudy orange jumpsuit, Adrien couldn’t help but smirk. They stared at each other through the glass pane for a moment before picking up the phones.

“Adrien,” Gabriel said, his voice hoarse and grey eyes wide with emotion.

“Hello, Father.” He nodded curtly, pressing his lips into a firm line. “Long time no see.”

“I’d given up hope that you’d ever come here. It’s good to see you…You’ve grown so much,” Gabriel looked him over. “What have you been up to?”

“Marinette and I live in New York. She just finished up school, so we decided to make a trip,” he explained nonchalantly. “But I didn’t come here to catch up. I have something to say, and I want you to listen.”

Gabriel lowered his gaze with a sigh, running a hand over his stubble before nodding.

“I’ve been angry with you for a long time. What you did was despicable and horrible, and somedays I still can’t believe it’s real,” he started, twirling the phone cord around his fingers as he spoke. “All I ever wanted was for you to be there for me. To come to my fencing tournaments or even just have a meal with me more than once a month. I was willing to be patient with you for being busy with your work, but little did I know what kind of work you were actually doing.”

He flicked his gaze back up to Gabriel who swallowed hard.

“I should hate you, and maybe in some ways I do, but that’s not what I came here to say to you today.”

“Adrien-” Gabriel started.

“I forgive you,” Adrien cut him off, and Gabriel’s jaw dropped, lip quivering as tears welled in his eyes. “I forgive you, Father.”

Gabriel’s face fell into his hand, and Adrien sat back, running a hand over his face and tapping his foot.

“I don’t want you to be mistaken and think that this means I want you to be part of my life,” he continued after a moment. “This will probably be the last time we see each other because I’m going to ask Marinette to marry me, and when we have kids, your grandchildren, I don’t ever want you to meet them. I don’t want them to have a relationship with you, and I never want you to be part of their lives, and I will work hard every day of my life to give them what I never had: a real father.”

“I suppose that’s what I deserve after everything.” Gabriel nodded, rubbing at his cheek. “I’ve often debated what I would say to you if you ever came, but now I can’t seem to find the words, so I’ll just say this: I have always loved you, and I am sorry.”

Adrien held his gaze for a long moment before biting his lip and placing the phone back on the receiver. He flashed his father a small smile before standing up and following the guard back through the door. Never once did he look back.

---

“Marinette!” Macy squealed the moment they stepped out of the car, racing to hug her tightly. “Oh, last time I saw you was at Eliott and Lisette’s wedding in London. It’s been so long since you’ve visited us in Paris.”

“It’s been a while, but I knew it was in safe hands,” Marinette said, leaning against her shoulder before they pulled away, and Eliott stepped down from the front steps and held out his arms.

“Nice, scarf,” she commented with a smirk, tracing her thumb over her brand logo, and Eliott chuckled as they embraced.

“I only wear the best,” he said, lifting her feet from the ground and squeezing her tight. “Your color palette this year is stunning, no surprise.”

“Thanks,” she giggled as he set her down, and she exchanged quick hugs with Lisette and Martin while Macy and Eliott traded off with Adrien.

“Well, we’re not going to stand out here all day. Come inside,” Macy insisted, gesturing them into the house. “Martin and I imported our favorite tea, and we picked up some madeleines from the best bakery in town.”

She cast a wink at Marinette as they walked to the sitting room where her butler stood beside a fancy cart.

“So, how are things in New York? It’s been a couple weeks since we spoke last,” she started as they settled in, and the butler began serving tea.

“Great! I just finished with school, and I have a branding campaign coming up in a few weeks, so we’ll be traveling around a lot for the next year, but we’ve actually talked about settling back here in Paris once it’s over,” she said, placing a hand on Adrien’s knee and exchanging smiles. “How are things here? I’ve heard album sales are going well, and Eliott is playing the lead role in an upcoming show. Oh, and congrats on the engagement!”

“Thank you,” Martin’s cheeks flushed as Macy flashed the ring.

“Are you going to design the dress, Marinette?” Lisette asked, and Marinette bit back a smirk.

“Oh, I’ve already designed the entire bridal party,” she said, waving it away. “We can look at that later.”

“I asked her as soon as Martin proposed. There isn’t anyone else in the world that I trust to design for me,” Macy said, taking her hands. “It also helps when your sister-in-law is a makeup artist.”

Lisette flashed her a grin.

“When is the wedding? Have you decided yet?” Adrien asked, and Macy shook her head.

“We haven’t picked a date yet, but we’re hoping to do it before Martin applies to law school,” she said.

“Well, I’ll get everyone’s measurements before I leave today, and when you decide on the designs you like I’ll get started on them when I get back to New York,” Marinette said, and Macy perked up, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“Speaking of weddings, I’m surprised you two haven’t tied the knot yet,” Lisette remarked, and Marinette and Adrien exchanged smiles.

“We’ve talked about it, but we wanted to make sure that Adrien was okay after everything,” she explained, taking a sip of her tea, and Adrien shot them a wink.

“Well, Chloe and I have already planned your bachelorette party, so just be prepared,” Macy informed her, and Marinette chuckled.

“Why does that make me worry?” She laughed, and Macy bit back a smirk.

“It’s really good to see you both again for something that isn’t related to a charity or an event,” she said, and the looks on everyone’s faces seemed to echo the sentiment. “We’ll have to get together more when you two move back here.”

“We will, definitely,” Marinette promised, giving her hands a squeeze, and Adrien sat back with a smile as they continued on about Macy’s new album or work they’d done with their charities.

It was nice to catch up with friends again like Macy said, and it did help him realize that there were somethings he wanted to do sooner rather than later.

“Where are we going?” Marinette asked the next day as he took her hand and led her up the strip toward the Trocadero.

“You’ll see,” he said, taking a few more steps then turning to face the Eiffel Tower and adjusting her accordingly. “Right here.”

“Right here?” She quirked a brow, glancing down at their feet.

“Right here.” He nodded. “This is the spot where I was standing when I fell head-over-heels in love with you all those years ago. We were fighting Stoneheart, and you vowed to protect Paris no matter what, and it was the moment when you stole my heart and ran away with it.”

Marinette bit back a smile as he continued.

“I made my own vow that day that no matter who was under that mask, I was going to love you for the rest of my life,” he said, reaching into his pocket before dropping down onto one knee. “And I intend to keep that promise. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my Ladybug, will you marry me?”

She cupped her hands over her mouth, eyes watering as she gazed down at him lovingly and nodded.

“Of course, chaton,” she said, pulling him up to meet her lips, their smiles and laughter breaking each kiss before Adrien lifted her up and spun them around.

Not everything in their life had gone the way they’d pictured it, but in the end they’d overcome every obstacle thrown their way. Akumas, broken friendships, fame, Lila, Hawkmoth, and the weight of Gabriel’s sins. They were both confident that no matter where they went in life that everything would work out so long as they had each other.

Fin

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #mdcsp original #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #mdcsp #my writing #the end of an era #for now

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