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odusseus-xvi · 8 months

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hi!! this is kinda a weird question but ur post about characterization for french ccs is rlly helpful for writing, so i was wondering if u had any like . tips or advice about speaking patterns or like. common terms or phrases they use and stuff like that. i have a lot of issues with auditory processing and other hearing stuff that makes it like . hard for me to always understand speech patterns or just like . what people are actually saying so if u have any like . advice or info about like How They Talk that u could put in text or like specific that would be cool. no worries if u dont/cant btw i completely get it i just remembered that u were the one w the previous helpful post ::D

Yeah, no problem I could try ! :D Now keep in mind again I'm not necessarily an expert, and I'm just doing this because it's fun. I still might make some mistakes, and miss some important details, but 'Ill do my best. SO

Let's go for HOW DO THE FRENCH (and swiss) CCS TALK :

Let's start with

ETOILES : So I feel like it might be the easiest because he's the clearest to me. He tends to speak at a normal space and in english with a noticeable slighly french accent, but not an extreme one. He likes to crack jokes constantly when he speaks with other people (most of the time hyping up others, and self deprecating, you know the "You are a legend, I am dumb".) . He can drop pearls of wisdom randomly through ridiculous metaphors ("You don't need to worry, My name means stars, that means that when you look I'm here." "It's like crossing the road, you have to, and there is cars, you need to be careful, but it can't be all you focus on. Wait I'm not sure about that one...") and sometimes actually genuine and inspiring, but more often that not in the tone of discussion, it doesn't sound like he's dispensing "wisdom of the elders", he's just a humble guy talking with you and giving a random advice. He often says in french "Wow a flop" when something doesn't work. Or "c.s.c." (Contre Con Camp, a football term meaning scoring against your own team) when he comments on someone being a tryhard for example ("WOW such a tryhard (csc)"). He'll often makes the joke that nobody likes him when they don't answer in chat to himself, (or chat) and will directly tell them "You want me to die irl don't you?" ensues a myriad of "holy shit you want me to die for real" answered by the "NOO" of the other one. Two last details that came to me, he rarely actually answers by "no" or "yes", he often use "Yeh yeh yeh", or "no no no". He also uses a lot of "euuuuh..." when looking for his words when speaking.

AYPIERRE : He is fairly simple too. He has a very relaxed tone, speaks slightly slower than most people, and has slightly noticeable french accent but less so than others. His tone differenciate between three states : Focused (while building or infiltrating a base), relaxed, and humourous. Note that he's never fully serious, he has that constant gremlin energy and smile that makes him want to make jokes that will make everybody cringe (his favorite pastime.) The only time he's been serious and slightly upset was when he earned gegg died or when he learned that the federation was trying to replicate his wine (there you can see his priorities). Most of the time people are assuming the worst when it's his countless time he starts a conversation with "So, I did something..." and is the type of guy to say "*known illegal act* is a strong word, let's say it's more like *not necessarily better*". I don't follow him as much, so I currently have no other mannerism in mind.

BAGHERA : I feel like she is a bit harder to pin down. When speaking in english she has a very noticeable accent, especially when she is tired. And talks a bit fast, especially in french. Though she doesn't crack jokes constantly, she has a constant chaotic energy that makes her say random things at times. She often say "Oh Yeaaaah" when she is happy or hyped about something, mostly when she is with other people to show them she is happy too. When she is ashamed or not understanding something she likes to take a voice we call the "Antoine Croute" voice (a character she played in a Rp series on GTA V), it's high pitched and really shy. (imagine a little "wut... ?"). She can be really serious, especially when investigating. She almost nver express vocally, in tone at least, her anger. Instead she sounds incredibly cold, like she was with ElQuackity. Her voice when serious drops a bit, and she speaks a bit faster. There is probably plenty more but I'm starting to get tired.

ANTOINE : He is the hardest to me because it is even hard to pin down in french. He has most of the time a very serious tone, while he ironically constantly making either dark jokes based on irony and cynism OR a pun. Because of this, it's sometimes hard to pin what's a joke and what's serious. His accent alternates between horrible french accent OR almost ProPeR eNgliSH. Even when discussing absolutely batshit insane things he sounds serious (he is not in reality, but it's a form of humor in itself). OCCASIONALLY he'll break and cracks a smile, and sometimes, even the heartiest laugh you've ever heard, a very vocal and deep "AHAHAHAHA" that you can hear a mile away (but it happens rarely.) Though I didn't specify, most people, including the french, stutter at least a little bit, and search their words, (like I said for Etoiles' "euh".) but Antoine tends to have a very clear speech, only occasionally looking for a translation. In the same vein, he also has a very quick reaction and can answer with a pun almost instantly (very impressive, especially when it's not his native language.)

That's pretty much all I can think of right now, and I'm tired. Maybe it's not exactly what you asked, but it's what I can muster. Hopes that helped :D

#qsmp #qsmp baghera jones #qsmp etoiles #qsmp aypierre #qsmp antoine daniel #qsmp antoine #qsmp baghera

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0thsense · 1 year

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20 12 2022

wow it has been a while since I last posted. i dont remember the pet names i gave people anymore, so ill just have to use new ones. so yea things havent been going very well. after all these years im still unable to do work, so i cant really hope for anything in life. id like to say im seriously considering an heroing but im probably objectively still far from that point. its almost like i wish i was actually considering an heroing because that means ive already hit the bottom and dont need to worry about feeling even worse than i do now. looking back, its hard to see all the factors that led me here, but i guess i can share a couple things i experienced recently. im still not sure whether to write this as if anyone except myself will ever read it, so idk if "sharing" makes sense. anyways, benny visited recently, and shared how after breaking up with his long-term girlfriend of 3 years, he had a "wayward" phase where he just fucked hella girls basically. and he felt super bad about it because hes a pretty devout christian. i understand why he shared it to me because im in a unique position of understanding christianity with my christian background but not actually christian so he wont just get judged extremely hard by the church. despite that, it still kind of felt like a brag to me, and a little insensitive since im a fucking virgin, which idk if ive told him explicitly but he surely must have considered the possibility. its unfortunate because i consider benny to overall be a really good and understanding person. of course i didnt tell him any of this and just took it as he shared for hours about his conquests and his inner conflicts from just having easy access to sex, oh woe is him right. i told him to just never meet girls like me, maybe he got the message after that. more importantly i had a dream, let me try to remember the details precisely. i was in a clubhouse of some sorts (maybe for pingpong?) that was pretty packed with people, it started small but slowly grew since i guess i love fantasizing in my dreams that my presence helps communities grow. one day we were celebrating something, maybe a member's birthday or something, and i was hanging out with one of the newer members jessica towards the back. I forget what we were talking about but it segued into her starting to whisper to me something like, "you know, I might not have made it to this clubhouse ... I was very close to killing myself the week I first came here". by the tone of her voice and her expression, she was clearly being extremely vulnerable and entrusting to me. my first instinct was to say meekly (in my usual style), "well im glad you're here now" or something like that, and then the dream abruptly ended. I realized after I woke up how utterly pathetic that was. I was so concerned with how my response would appear to her, I was only concerned with staying in her good graces. In the past I was not so concerned over my appearances to this pathetic of a level. If I was thinking about her instead, I would have let her know that she did not have to worry anymore, that she should never have to experience that misery again, and I would make sure of it. I really wish I can say that and mean it one day. I'm of the opinion that the most useful individual definition of reality is simply one's experiences. In that sense dreams are real until you wake up and realize you've been dreaming. That's why I never want to lucid dream again, at that point it's as real as simply fantasizing during the day when you know you are fantasizing. Dreams are precious because they are the only way you really experience dreamlike scenarios, and in today's one I fell gravely short. I'm sorry jessica. I have some other things I want to write but I think I will save those for another day, with the usual disclaimer theres a 50% chance this is my last post ever.

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gikairan · 2 years

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I'm going to go ahead and dump some Warden thoughts

So, I play a male Elf Mage based on Ayzahd. Its not a very canon friendly name, but I still use it because THIS IS MY BLORBO, I DICTATE THE NAME The games pretty light on details of a pre-Circle elf? All you get when you start the game is "youve lived here as long as you can remember". Now, I believe we start really forming long term memories around 5-6? Not hugely up on the science, but we dont tend to have many strong memories from before that. So i kinda figure... hes probably been in the Circle since the age of 5. He doesnt remember where he came from at all (its the Denerim Alienage, but I can't remember if theres an actual Connection in game or i just decided that), and cant really imagine life outside of it. I also assume hes somewhere between 16 and 18, I just havent quite decided where abouts, or if the game actually gives you the exact age (Irving calls you a "child" so im leaning a taaad younger)

I cant remember exactly the lore we get for the Ferelden Circle and what its like to live there, but i do remember things like... theyre not allowed into the Outside yards because of Anders. Dude used Outside Time to try and escape, so everyone had Outside Time taken away from them. I just dont remember what year that would be. So I assume Zah just... hasnt been outside... for like... 11 years....

I've been spending most of my thoughts on just... thinking about some teenager whose lived indoors his entire life, never really seeing the outside... actually experiencing it for the very first time. Sure, he knows what rain IS. But hes never experienced it. He knows what nature is in theory, but hes never actually seen anything more than a huge lake. He steps off that boat and is just... awed by everything. Feel how fresh the air is! WOW WIND!! Look at that tree!! Oh? What is that small creature in the... grass?? That is grass, yes?? ITS ALL SO VERY EXCITING AND EVERYTHING DESERVES ATTENTION. ...... There are a lot of stops on the trip to Ostagar to stare at Things.

.... There are just as many stops because he is also very Precious. Hes lived his entire life with soft, slippered feet, in a not particularly large building. Physical exercise is likely not a large part of a circle mages life. Especially when theyre Banned from Outside Time. I sort of think of the Tower as much larger than they show you in game, where basically the apprentice dorms are directly next to the library which also doubles as the classrooms, but i still dont believe an apprentice mage will regularly be traversing the entire tower. They'll be doing 1-2 flights of stairs at most, imo. .... Walking to Ostagar is hard. And hes also never seen a horse before, let alone ridden one. Theres likely a lot of stops for some self healing of blisters, or nursing of tired legs. .... And also, sleeping. I doubt the apprentice beds are particularly Plush, but theyre also not a sleeping bag on the ground. So yeah, the journey to Ostagar might be filled with wonder (nature), but its also very painful (Blisters, tired muscles, tired self....)

Other major thoughts include: The first kinda fights he actually gets into do.... not quite go well. He knows how to use magic, of course. Hes very good at that. Everyone always told him he was a Good Mage, Irving was very complimentary of him to Duncan!! But actually in a high stakes life of death scenario? Its... quite a lot harder than it was in the library. Or even in the Fade, like in the Harrowing. its definitely not such a good feeling. Hes a good mage, right?? But suddenly hes not very good at doing fireballs when theres a darkspawn trying to murder him.... is he really cut out for this? This is all a mistake, he should just go back to the Circle.... (which, honestly, is kinda what he wants). He doesnt even really have any mage friends who can tell him that actually this is fairly normal- stress does make it more difficult to magic good. He just kinda has to struggle through and work it out (Until he has Wynne to talk to)

Aand one of the interesting things i noticed about the Origin is... theres no actual mention of him being an elf at any point in it. Now this is probably because Bioware didnt want to actually make 2 versions of the same Origin- it made sense just to ignore the elf stuff and make it applicable to both humans and elves. but that is a fun thing to think about! Despite the Circles many many faults, its actually probably the only place on Thedas where humans and elves are equal? With so many apprentices coming as children, humans grow up with elves their equals, and elves grow up on equal footing. .... and upon arriving at Ostagar, you can see elves being used as messengers, spoken to harshly, and the Quartermaster will literally think youre there to deliver a message- despite being dressed differently enough for the Quartermaster to remark upon your silly dress. He goes from an equal, to a second class citizen kinda very suddenly? he wasnt prepared for that! And likely it gets worse when he reaches the Denerim alienage. He suddenly gets a real sense of how all the other elves live. And its kinda a bit of a shock? Like, he gets the feeling that for all the faults of the Circle hes only just starting to realise..... hes actually pretty privileged. Ive tried not to think on that too much, because thats many many hours of game away. But overall my thoughts are like "I expected to be mistreated because I am a mage- I have grown up in a chantry controlled environment who Hates Us after all. But I was not expecting anyone to really have an issue with me being an elf?? And i'm horrified by the treatment i've received, and how everyone else like me is treated"

And to get ahead of myself to post-Awakenings timeline.... He sort of becomes someone who feels hes supposed to revive the Ferelden Wardens... but he cant invoke the right of conscription. Hes had so many choices taken away from him, that he cant take those choices away from anyone else? But i do also think he pretends to use it. ... On Circle mages. He "conscripts" them, brings them to the keep, and just... doesnt ever do the joining. His reasoning is to give mages some kind of freedom- from the circle, from the chantry, and to live a... semi-normal life. They just have to pretend theyre going to go to do the joining any day now. Hes also definitely giving more of the budget to the servants wages. He wants to be the BESTEST employer to the alienage elves. He might not know their struggle, but hes in a position to do something.

And that concludes my blorbo info dump (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

#dragon age ////#oc blogging

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

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Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss I.M.P #truth seekers #episode 6 truth seekers #helluva boss truth seekers #helluva boss original character #not really clear what im doing #just going with the flow #my own idea

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years

Text

Texts from the Lost Tomb, part 5.4

I swear folks once I get this and the last part up I’m gonna condense it all

But yeah couldn’t resist some <3

Zhang and Wu Chat

Wu Xie: Um. I’m all done with the shower if you want a turn.

Zhang Qiling: I’m alright without one.

Wu Xie: sooo are you pissed at me still?

Zhang Qiling: ? I have not been angry with you since the ladder incident.

Wu Xie: you’ve barely said anything since the necklace thingy

Zhang Qiling: I believe it is a long-running joke amongst my friend group that I do not, in fact, say much.

Wu Xie: okay but there are multiple gouges in the tea house walls that would suggest you had somewhat strong feelings today

and I kinda caused the events that sparked said feelings

so just checking in you know

Zhang Qiling: I was not angry so much as I was afraid. More afraid than I’ve been in a long time.

Wu Xie: ??? But it has worked out fine??? Everyone made it out alive and Uncle Erbai gets to feel morally superior to the Zhang family for a while so today was a win overall

Zhang Qiling: I heard you scream. I didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t get to you right away. Therefore, I was afraid.

Wu Xie: ohhhhh. oh, Xiao Ge. It’s alright now—hey the necklace was actually helping u look out for me:) It’s not like those ppl were actually trying to hurt me, really. Your family isn’t so bad, at least you don’t have any uncles you know of

today was just some big misunderstandings wrapped in some poor life choices. Tbh my memoir title

I feel kind of stupid for screaming but when a glowing necklace wraps itself around your neck it’s a little uhoh moment lol

I did like the design tho def my aesthetic.

Zhang Qiling: I am pleased that it was able to protect you when I was not.

Wu Xie: Uh no you are not allowed to get all emo abt this it’s only like 3pm

damn time flies when it’s flashing before your eyes lol

Are you on the roof? You’re def on the roof. I thought I heard the tiles moving over my head. Come down or I’m coming up.

Zhang Qiling: I will be down in a moment. Do not come outside, it’s cold and raining.

Wu Xie: you know, Zhang Rishan said he thinks the necklace might be linked to you, somehow

something from long ago, even though you wouldn’t remember it.

It’s lucky that it liked me, huh:)

Zhang Qiling: Yes. Quite lucky.

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: AWW LOOK AT HIM NAPPING ON YOUR SHOULDER SO CUTE. BEBES HAD A BIG DAY. YOU TWO ARE PRECIOUS. BE GOOD AND POSE FOR THE PICTURE NOW.

Zhang Qiling: No. Also, I am considering what steps I should take with Zhang Rishan. Regardless of his concern for the Zhang family line, his actions were unacceptable.

Wang Pangzi: HES DROOLING A LITTLE ON YOU WHICH IS LESS CUTE BUT I CAN CROP THAT PART

LOOK I KNOW YOURE STILL PISSED. IM NOT EXACTLY CALM MYSELF, I JUST HAVE WAYS TO SKIRT AROUND TIANZHENS BULLSHIT FILTER THAT YOU LACK

GET ON MY LEVEL

WU ERBAI WILL HANDLE IT, THINGS HAVE SETTLED I THINK

BUT ABOUT THAT NECKLACE

SO INTERESTING HMMM

Zhang Qiling: I am the patriarch of my family. The necklace behaved as I would, apparently, to protect a vulnerable family member. Wu Xie’s bad cold last week activated it, and it responded to a perceived danger to him today. Simple enough.

Wang Pangzi: UH HUH

A FAMILY MEMBER

THE NECKLACE REALLY SAID LOVE WINS

TOLKIEN COULD NEVER

Zhang Qiling: It protected him on a technicality. But I will not allow him to bear the burdens of my family ever again. It has taken so much from him already.

Wang Pangzi: YEAH SURE BLAH BLAH DESTINY BLAH BLAH ANGST

“A TECHNICALITY” WOW WHO SAID ROMANCE WAS DEAD

ANYHOO IM SCREENSHOTTING THIS FOR UR WEDDING RECEPTION SLIDESHOW

YA KNOW DURING MY SPEECH

Friends of Wu Xie Support Group Chat

Hei Yangjing: you’re welcome for everything today<3 I accept PayPal, although of course it is always my honor to assist my friends:)

Wang Pangzi: WE ARENT PAYING YOU SHIT

Zhang Qiling: You did absolutely nothing.

Hei Yangjing: whoa whoa maybe I wasn’t threatening family members or busting up load-bearing walls like some undying divas I could name but I totes helped

or at least I was there for moral support maybe?

Zhang Qiling: The only reason I knew you were there at all was that as I lowered my blade from Zhang Rishan’s neck, I heard the camera click and saw you were taking a selfie making a peace sign, angled to have the two of us in the background.

Xie Yuchen: I saw it on social media just now. The caption is “#greatdaycatchingupwiththelads #blessed”

Wang Pangzi: TBH KIND OF JEALOUS I DIDNT THINK TO DO THAT

Hei Hangjing: okay yeah you see Xiao Ge that is a modern kind of help I should’ve known you wouldn’t be aware

It’s called performance, you wouldn’t understand

it’s a ‘Gram thing

Also it means I’m a great person

Bc letting you handle the situation was my gift to you

Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie mentioned there is something called “blocking ppl” that gets them out of my phone.

Hei Yangjing: nah

Can’t trust that Wu Xie, bae can’t tell a coffin from an urn amirite

it’s not a thing, blocking

Xie Yuchen: It is a thing. I’ll show you later, Zhang Qiling.

Wang Pangzi: YOU BOYS GO GET CLEANED UP AND COME BY AROUND 9 I SNAGGED SOME OF ZHANG RISHANS BOOZE ON THE WAY OUT

Bonnie and Clyde Chat

Hei Yangjing: you looked pretty comfortable in those handcuffs earlier ;););)

Xie Yuchen: Go to sleep, idiot.

Hei Yangjing: You’d have to do something to tire me out ;););)

Xie Yuchen: Are you like this around Wu Xie? Not that I care, I’m just asking.

Hei Yangjing: uh that’s a big nope

First off all Idk when I’ll die but Id prefer it to be on my terms and not at the hands of those other two

Secondly there is a part of me that remembers how adorable he was when he was younger and that makes it weird

(No offense but u were not adorable. He was bebe luke skywalker, you were bebe princess leia I am obvs Han Solo 4lyfe)

Also I’m a little scared that if i flirted with him and he flirted back he’d be better at it.

Xie Yuchen: All valid concerns.

Hei Yangjing: as cute as he is I don’t really wanna tap that.

Xie Yuchen: I see.

Hei Yangjing: do you tho

Main Chat

Wu Xie: okay folks who wants cocoa to top the evening off? I picked some up today:D

Wang Pangzi: UH YOU SPENT YOUR DAY BEING KIDNAPPED AND PLACATING A SENTIENT NECKLACE WHEN DID YOU HAVE TIME TO GET GROCERIES

FRANKLY THATS INTIMIDATING

Wu Xie: the tea house gift shop:)

Wang Pangzi: …YOU BOUGHT COCOA FROM YOUR KIDNAPPERS. FROM THEIR GIFT SHOP. DURING YOUR KIDNAPPING.

WU XIE

WU XIE WHY

Wu Xie: I mean we were there the whole day, it felt impolite not to buy anything.

Wang Pangzi: OH RIGHT GREAT POINT ID HATE TO BE RUDE TO THEM AFTER THEY WENT TO THE TROUBLE OF ABDUCTING US

LISTEN WHEN PPL STEAL YOU IT BECOMES FREE REIGN ON THEIR SHIT

UGH YOU PROBABLY GOT A RECEIPT AND EVERYTHING

WAS UR LITTLE SHOPPING TRIP BEFORE OR AFTER THEY STUCK U IN A DUNGEON TO EXPERIMENT ON YOU

WAIT NVM I DONT WANT TO KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT

Wu Xie: look, let’s focus on the positives/ we are all okay, and we learned something new, that necklace is still active! It’s really quite nice-looking when it isn’t moving of its own volition.

Wang Pangzi: YOU AND YOUR RELENTLESS DUCKING OPTIMISM

ZHANG QILING ARE YOU SEEING THIS

Zhang Qiling: I would love some cocoa. I’ll come to the kitchen.

Wu Xie: I have special marshmallows for you!!

Wang Pangzi: I SEE

WE ARE SUBSCRIBING TO THE PRESTIGIOUS “FUCK IT WHY NOT” SCHOOL OF THOT TONIGHT

LOL SURE LETS GO COCOA IT UP

IVE GOT SOMETHING STRONG TO POP IN IT

Wu Xie: Still thinking about that design… I’d love another chance to examine that necklace under less Zhangy circumstances.

Kinda sad we couldn’t borrow it to use for illnesses and dangerous missions :/

ah well it’s for the best, a family heirloom should be treasured, preserved and protected<3

Zhang Qiling: I put it on your dresser.

Wu Xie: ???????

Wang Pangzi: AND THATS WHY YOU AND I ARE FRIENDS, XIAOGE <3

Wu Xie: I—

Zhang Qiling: Are those bunny-shaped marshmallows for me?

#whomst #ultimate note #wu xie #dmbj #the lost tomb #pingxie #iron triangle #dmemebj

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lucky-catttt · 3 years

Text

Maxwell Lord’s Aphrodite - Pt 2

Summary: When Maxwell Lord’s world comes crashing down, you, his personal assistant bring him back from the pits of despair.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x Reader (female), Maxwell Lord x You

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS ALLOWED TO READ.

Word Count: 3,885

Warnings: Prepare to put a towel down or go touch some grass after, either or LOL Mention of genitals, oral sex, squirting, face fucking, choking, names, foreplay, degradation, aftercare, BDSM, sexism/sexual harrassment.

A/N: This is my first fan-fic, so the writing might not be fantastic, but if you have any pointers/advice please tell me! I’ve also added images and gifs to help readers imagine the scenarios and reactions!

“So what kind of proposal were we thinking of that would save Black Gold corporation?” Max quizzes, leaning back against his chair. You pause to think while finishing your pastry. “Well” you begin “This space is huge, around 4,300 square feet. The lease Black Gold is renting this office floor has no major restrictions on it, so you could potentially sub-let the space on the floor for a monthly or fixed term lease to people who work remotely or teams that don’t want to commit to a larger office space. It's becoming more common because of the GFC, people can't commit to large long term leases for whole office floors anymore. You could also rent out the boardroom by the hour & also lease the private manager offices to businesses that want their own private room. And we already have a reception near the lifts, just re-hire them and make them pretend they work for all the businesses on the floor, answering their calls, doing admin work like scanning and faxing etc. As far as the business’s clients that show up are concerned, each business looks like they own the whole floor.

If we do a cost analysis and then get a small investor to cover the startup costs, we could guarantee them a return if businesses pay contract deposits or pay their lease in advance up front. Plus the landlord we owe money to. And with the top floor with amazing views and location, we can charge top dollar” Max stares at you in disbelief. “Wow, are you sure you don’t wanna be CEO?” He laughs, still in shock. You laugh, blushing. “I started working on a business proposal for one of my university assessments, if we customise it for this project we could pitch it to some investors and banks and speak to the landlord about it as well” You reply. “I could kiss you right now.” Maxwell sighs, gripping his fist. “Please do” you giggle, leaning towards him. Max reaches out both hands to cup your face, before planting a passionate kiss on your lips. “Well, I guess we have a lot of work to do!” Max yells, before striding towards the bathroom to take a shower. Two weeks go by and the proposal is ready. Max calls you from the company car, on the way to your house to pick you up before the big investors meeting. “I’ll be right outside your place in a few minutes my sweet” He coos, beaming with excitement to see you. As his car pulls up, you collect your compendium, presentation cards and your pointer rod. Struggling with all you have to carry, Alfred rushes out of the car and up the steps to the front door, collecting all of your belongings.

Maxwell peers over the top of his shades but the sun from behind your house blinds him. He shuffles across the seat and opens the car door, the sun now hiding from his view. As he removes his shades and looks up the stairs towards your front door, he sees you standing there, fixing your outfit. He’s stunned.

It might be 1984, but you’re wearing a stunning outfit pulled straight from the 50s. A black suit dress with a pleat in the front with a thin gold belt around your waist. You accented the look with strap Mary jane heels, a black and gold handbag and a neat beret fascinator. Your hair was curled, accentuated with bright red lipstick and a single set of pearl earrings.

Max looks like he’s about to drop to his knees in awe, but his knees bend into a lengthy stride up the stairs, rushing to your side. “A heavenly vision of beauty'' Max gasps, giving you a kiss on the cheek in an attempt to preserve your makeup. He puts out his arm and you wrap your hands around it, as he leads you down your stairs to the car, staring at you the whole time, letting the universe guide his steps as this absolute goddess graces his presence. You both slide into the back seat of Max’s company car, his large hand immediately passing along your back and resting on your hip and ass, pulling you as close to him as possible. “I dont know how this presentation is going to go, but I can be absolutely certain that myself and every other person in that room will be enraptured by your presence”. he murmurs into your neck, squeezing your ass.

Max was wearing a pinstripe royal blue suit with black laced oxfords. His matching tie and pocket square peeking out. “I would kiss you right now but i don't want to get lipstick on your face just before our meeting” you blush, rubbing your nose against his. “I know. We have all the time in the world after” Max replies, running his nose down your neck, breathing gently against your skin.

“We should probably prepare for the meeting, Max” you chuckle, seeing the office building not far up the road. You pull out your compendium and flip to an architectural blueprint of the office floor.

“I had this drawn up by an architectural drafter last week. As you can see the large blank space is your office and private room, you already have the glass frosted for privacy. All the other office cubicles will be converted to private offices, as well as boardrooms, co-working areas and remote working hot spots.” Max’s eyes widen with surprise at the level of detail. “How did you get this done? I certainly don't remember commissioning this'' rubbing his chin. “I paid for it” you respond, nonchalantly. “You spent your money, for me?” Max inquires, now in disbelief. “Of course. I told you I would help you, Max. Consider it an investment”. You wink, flipping through more pages of the presentation. Just when Max thought he couldn't fall more in love with you than he already has, your hard work and giving nature makes his heart swell even larger to make room. After a few minutes the car pulls up to the investor’s office building. “Before we go in there, I want to ask you something.” Your eyes widen with intrigue. “While we're there, I’m not sure how these businessmen will react to a woman being anything more than my personal assistant. I’m not intimidated by you at all, but I suspect some of them might be” He continues, his eyes falling to your lap as he holds your hands. “Max, this project is my dream, but it’s your company, so i’m giving it to you to present. You’re the only person I trust with this”.

As Maxwell begins to get himself together, you take a seat adjacent to where Max is standing. Although your knees are together with one ankle behind the other, you can feel some of the businessmen closest to you looking you up and down like a piece of meat. You quickly turn to face Max, giving him your undivided attention. “Well, I know you’re all very busy, so lets get started” Max smiles, wringing his palms together. The businessmen listen intently to Max’s pitch for the restructure of Black Gold corporation, before they begin to ask questions on financials. You begin to notice the men losing interest and Max starting to lose his confidence. He looks at you, his expression half pleading and half embarrassed. Without any hesitation, you stand up from your chair, striding over to Max’s side, picking up the pointing rod from the easel and pulling it to full length with one swift pull.

The men all sit upright at attention from the sound of the rod. “If I may, Maxwell” you butt in, politely. “Gentleman” You steady the pointer rod against the chart on the easel “the profit figures on the project are as follows; 36 external view offices, charged at $3,000 per month each, generating $108,000 gross profit. The 25 internal offices with no view will be $500 per month, generating $12,500. We also have hot-desks with memberships starting at $20 per month. If companies want us to answer their phones, do their mail, bring them coffee, do their shopping, take their dry-cleaning, walk their dogs or bring them lunch, that's an additional fee. Essentially, we are looking at a monthly profit turnover of $150,000+. Our current lease fee is $50,000 a month with about $15,000 in body corporate and utilities, leaving $85,000 per month net profit, $225 thousand per quarter and over a million annually. We currently are looking for a combined setup cost of around $500,000. The more you invest, the bigger your return.” You swing the pointer road and rest it on your shoulder.

Silence fills the room and you panic. Your assertiveness may have turned them off, so you pretend to be ditzy and dip one of your feet inwards. The men who are all sitting up at attention, look between each other and nod. Your charm and business acumen seemed to have put them under some kind of spell. “Thanks for your time gentleman. If you have any questions please feel free to call” you finish, walking around to hand each of them Max’s business card. The men begin to chat amongst themselves, before one of them approaches Maxwell. They introduce themselves and begin chatting about the pitch “You should be very proud of your assistant Maxwell” they chuckle “she seems very switched on and driven”. Max shoots you a smiling glance, before turning back “Yeah, I’m actually going to make her the CFO” he responds. “Well, we’ll deliberate here and be back in touch with our offer”. The meeting finally wraps up and you both head back downstairs where Alfred is waiting with the car door already open. You both slide inside and Max wraps his arms around you before passionately kissing your lips as the car drives back to his office.

“You want to make me the.. CFO?” you pant, breaking from the kiss. “Yes” Max smiles, staring into your eyes. “You have worked so hard and today at the presentation..I know you’re the woman for the job. Do you want it?” You blush, holding his face “Well how can I say no?”. The company car finally pulls up back at the office and you both head through the lobby and into the lift. Max stands behind you with his arms wrapped around you and his head on your shoulder, talking about the enormous amount of work that will potentially need to be done if this deal goes through. As the lift doors open into the reception area, you both step out and Max hears the phone in his office start to ring. You give him an excited smile, encouraging him to go take the call in private. He begins striding through the empty office before making it to his office, pushing the doors open and heading over to his desk.

You take your time walking back to his office, giving Max time to finish his phone call. As you approach his office doors, you hear the click of the receiver as he hangs up. You watch Max’s shadow behind the frosted glass walk up to the doors and swing them open, a neutral look on his face. You look puzzled, thinking it was bad news before he burst out laughing with a smile, swinging you over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom. “You did it baby!” He yells, slapping your backside before throwing you both down onto the bed. “We did!?” you scream, a wave of relief and excitement washing over you. “Yes! I’m so proud of you. You saved Black Gold corporation. You saved me.” Max smiles, brushing a lock of curls away from your face before cupping your cheek and passionately kissing you.

You kick off your shoes, belt and take off your beret fascinator as Max removes his suit jacket, suspenders and belt, before kissing each other again. “I was so turned on by you today” Max moans, writhing his hands all over your body, before ripping the bust of your dress open, the two buttons pinging off onto the carpet. “Watching your voluptuous ass in that dress walking into that boardroom and how you commanded the room’s attention, took control and sealed the deal. I wanted to put you over that boardroom table and worship you like the goddess you are. But I guess I can do that now”. Something about wearing your favourite suit of his, the unwavering progressive support of women and eagerness to pleasure you unlocks your most ravenous sexual desires. You stop Max, sitting up at the foot of the bed. He gets up from laying down and looks at you, worried he said or did something wrong. “Whats wrong my love?” he asks, looking concerned. ****MAJOR SMUT WARNING AHEAD**** “Max… you’ve shown me the romantic love making version which was so beautiful, but I want to make you feel worshipped” Max gives you an interesting glance. “You’re such a giving person but I want to give back. You’ve suffered neglect and mistreatment most of your life. I want to give you a different kind of passionate sex. I have fantasies and wild ideas that I think will give you immense pleasure. I want you to….” You stop yourself, not sure how he will react. Max's eyes widened with intrigue. “Go on?” Max squeezes your hand. “Well” you begin. The passionate fire is burning hotter and hotter within you. “I want you…” you hitch up your skirt and sit across Max’s lap, with one leg over each side “to straddle my chest and fuck my throat while I rub my clit” you get closer to Max’s face, pulling on his tie “And I want to cum while you’re throat fucking and choking me with your cock” you begin to undo his tie “And then I want you to cum in the back of my throat and make me swallow it”. There’s dead silence, so you bat your eyelash extensions, throwing a sexy yet innocent gaze followed by “hmmm?”. Max’s mind goes completely blank, the blood rushing from every inch of his body straight to his cock, which you feel hardened against your crotch as you straddle him. “Uhh wow honey that sounds very dangerous.” Max chokes, embarrassed he's getting turned on at the idea of hurting you.

“For you or me?” You giggle, biting your lip. “For you” Max says, wrapping his arms around you. “Are you sure that’s something you want me to do to you Hermosa?”. “Yes Maxwell. I love the way you worship and pleasure me, but I want you to feel the same way. I have a kink when it comes to being dominated. Seeing my man so turned on and using his strength and body to please himself using me, makes me feel incredible. I know you would never hurt me, it’s something I would love for you to experience” You answer before kissing his neck. “You really are too good to me, princessa” Max sighs, running his hands down your back to your ass, squeezing both cheeks. “Of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, Max” you give him a reassuring look, worried you might have overstepped. “No baby, I’d love to, if that’s what will bring you the most pleasure” He coos, kissing your neck.

You begin to take off your dress, revealing under a black and gold laced lingerie set. “Black and Gold” you chuckle, watching Max’s eyes widen at the level of detail. “How did I get so lucky?” Max pants, pulling off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers to contain his rock hard cock. You go to reach for Max’s crotch when his hand stops you. “Before we do this” Max begins “I want you to stop me at any time if it hurts or you can’t breathe or you just don’t want to do it anymore. That is the most important thing to me”. You nod and smile at Max, leaning in to kiss him, before your hands start to remove his boxers.

You reach down and begin to tease his cock, tracing your fingers tips against the tip. With your other hand you guide Max’s hand down, placing it at the top of your panties. As he starts to put his hands under your panties, he notices there’s a hole in them. Max stops to inspect. “Crotchless panties? Me vuelves loco” Max pants before he begin kissing and biting all over your body.

You’re in for it now. Like a virus, you’ve taken over Max’s brain, flooding it with animalistic desire and passion. A switch has been flipped and hell bent on blowing your mind, leaving all of his inhibitions and reservations about what he’s about to do to you at the door. Max climbs on top of you, wrapping his large hand around your throat, gently squeezing as you gasp for air. “Is this what you want?” He growls into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing down your neck. You manage to nod before moaning, indicating that you’re enjoying it. He’s never treated a woman like this before, but he manages to find the personality and words seemingly from thin air, like it was repressed all this time. “Start touching yourself for me now” Max commands. You slide your hand down into your panties and start rubbing your clit, sparks flying through your body and the slick now leaking out of your pussy. He groans at the sight of you touching yourself. Max moves up the bed before straddling over your chest. With your head propped up on some pillows, you look in Max’s eyes and ready your mouth and jaw for his throbbing cock. Max thumbs your bottom lip before grabbing just under your jaw to keep your face steady. “Open wide like the good little whore that you are” he hisses, smacking the tip of his precum soaked cock on your face.

The degrading name only makes you wetter, as you furiously rub your clitoris whilst pinned under Max’s legs. You moan as Max pushes his cock into your mouth and down your throat. “Oh my god my love your mouth feels incredible” Max moans, his character from before severely altered by the pleasurable sensation. He realises his mistake and compensates by pushing his cock as far as it will fit into your mouth and throat. “That’s it, take it all” he smirks, exhaling with a moan. You use two fingers to scoop up some of your slick and rub it into your clitoris, which is now super sensitive. Your stifled moans humming against Max’s veiny cock cause it to twitch. With your hips bucking from pleasuring yourself, Max takes both of his hands and puts them on your cheeks. “Fuck your mouth feels so good” Max moans, slowly thrusting back and forth out of your mouth, his cock touching your uvula and causing you to gag with each stroke. Your eyes begin to roll back in your skull as you continue to moan & choke, your swollen clitoris edging closer and closer to orgasm. “You like this huh? You like it when Daddy fills your throat up and fucks it?” Max hisses, wrapping your hair in between his fingers, gripping hard as his thrusts gain more momentum. Thick strings of spit is now spilling out of your mouth, down your chin and onto your breasts. “You look

The taste of Max’s precum coating the back of your tongue. You’re fighting to contain your orgasm but Max’s cock and brutal punishing words are sending you dangerously close to the edge. “Mmmmm, mmmmm!” You choke, tears welling in your eyes as you’re trying to nod and send Max a pleasured innocent gaze, driving him wild. You concentrate on breathing through your nose, each time Max’s cock leaves the back of your throat for a split second, giving you enough time to take in air. You decide to start moving your flattened tongue against the shaft, rubbing against the tip as it passes back and forth. Max let’s out a groan “You’re such a good little putá for papá”. There’s no holding back now, you increase your moans to signal that you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. “Cum for me” Max hisses, continuing the ecstasy inducing tempo of thrusts into your mouth and throat. You continue to rub your clit and gesture for Max to keep his cock still inside your mouth and throat for this moment, riding the crashing wave of your orgasm, squirting furiously onto your legs and sheets below. The writhing and shaking of your body underneath him, the sound of your squirting and muffled cries and moans from behind his cock is too much and brings him closer much faster than he ever anticipated. The eye-watering sensation causes the tears to flow down your cheeks, causing your mascara to run.

As your orgasm begins to subside you gesture for Max to continue thrusting, which he does as he moves his large hands to cup your face. “That felt fucking amazing” Max moans, continuing his fast and hard strokes. Your gaze, burning with passion and framed within smudged running eyeliner locks with Max’s, his domineering yet still showing affection. “I’m gonna cum” Max pants, keeping the pace as his grip on your face grows tighter. “Fuckkkk!!!” He shouts, holding your head still as he holds one final thrust as far in as it will go. Your eyes roll back into your head again as you feel the warm thick ropes of cum spurt onto the back of your throat. It was lucky you had taken a large enough breath before that moment, enough to sustain you for the few seconds Max held his cock still inside your mouth, throbbing and pulsing as he moans and shudders, cursing in Spanish. Coming back to reality, Max immediately pulls his softening cock from your mouth and wraps his large hands on the top and bottom of your face, closing your jaw shut. “Now Swallow” he commands, bending down so that his face inches from yours. With a cheeky gaze you oblige and swallow the remains of his cum tangled in your throat, before opening your jaw to allow him to inspect if there was any left. “My good little leche putá” he whispers, before spitting in your wide open mouth.

As if like breaking character on a movie set, Max immediately reverts back to his original self, climbing off to the side to lay next to you. “Was that good for you my love? How do you feel?” Max asks, worried he’s harmed your physical and mental state. “Incredible” you pant, smiling, lying in a pool of your own squirt. Breathing a sigh of relief, Max quickly brings up the blankets to cover you both, embracing you and peppering your spit, mascara and tear soaked face with kisses. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Max quizzes, checking your chest and throat over. “No” you reply, your throat somewhat hoarse. “Okay good. I love you so much” Max sighs, brushing your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. “I love you too, Max”.

————————

I got impatient and wanted to post it now so I guess this chapter is finished 💀

@anaaaispunk @mandoalorian @pintsizemama

#maxwell lord #max lord #max lord x reader #max lord x you #max lord smut #maxwell lord smut #max lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #javier pena #pedro pascal

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andromedasstarship · 3 years

Text

in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case.

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end

blog rules

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

prologue // next chapter

-----

Chapter 1

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home.

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later.

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on.

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?”

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain.

Three Years Ago

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor.

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living.

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in.

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others.

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage.

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once.

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen.

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!”

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background.

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?”

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations.

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it.

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week.

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted.

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room.

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name.

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation.

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table.

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again.

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?”

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.”

“Go underground?”

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained.

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.”

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-”

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away.

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?”

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.”

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.”

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.”

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car.

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was?

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel.

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard.

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over.

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced.

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time.

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchner #in the stars #'stori writes #in the stars chapter 1

166 notes · View notes

impaladolan · 3 years

Note

What if y/n tried to sneak out again and ends up opening a door and it’s literally a conference room and grays ins sitting head of the table and it’s filled w mafia men lmaooo and she’s just like oh sorry was looking for the bathroom which is an obvious lie cos girl has one in her room and she runs away and one of them catch her and take back to grays I mean does he punish her in front of the men girl that’s up to you but even if he doesn’t I feel like it’s like a lowkey funny concept like poor girl she just tryna escape hahaha

Anonymous said

i think it would be fun if y/n just constantly winds up him now in hopes he will get sick of her antics and just tell her everything hehe like maybe one day she steals his rolex, smashes all the plates lmaoo idk now that i type that out i feel like he won’t care and just spank her ass every time (which i highly doubt she’s gonna complain about lol)

Capture - Grayson Dolan [7/-]

summary: y/n has always been a curious women, but when she stumbles upon something she’s not supposed to.. things become too much to handle...

warnings: swearing & humiliation/degradation..

a/n: do y’all want to do tags @?? and also, thank you sweet anons for the prompts! love you all 💕

The events to which had pertained early this morning continuously played on a loop in your head. Rerun after rerun, and you never ran out of film. It really made you question your decision-making skills, or rather any of the skills and manners you have acquired in your short time of living. You couldn't help the "imbalance of homeostasis" moreover your impulsive, fluctuant feelings that would come over you like a rushing water at times. It really made everything a bit more difficult to understand. In shorter terms;

What the hell even happened?

You couldn't deny or even feel guilty for the wrongdoings of this morning, but nor could you exactly excuse them. Yes, it was a heat of the moment type of thing and you really should have expected him to come barging in like that, but it still had taken you off guard. Although, when you think back to what happened, you don't regret it.

You miss it.

You miss the way it felt, to be sat atop of him and needing for his scared touch. He was like a drug. An addictive, life sucking drug that wouldn't wash away from your mind. He was all you could think about.

He is all you can think about.

The wanting demand to know his name, the request to see his godawful handsome face, the aching of his touch. Everything about him was mysterious and daunting. He drew you in, like a magnet against steel. The burning desire you have for him doesn't make sense.

How could you be in love with someone you barely know? Someone who had taken you away from everything you've ever known. A man that knows the ins and outs of you, yet you couldn't even recognize his name?

It feels like a game. A stupid, twisted fucking game that you're bound to lose to.

Sighing to your intrusive thoughts, you blow a wavering piece of hair from your face. You were stuffed under the lengthy duvet and your eyes were directed at the spinning ceiling fan above. The industrial, artificial wind-making machine upwards reminded you of a similar one placed in your room at home. Of course, this one didn't have a squeak but it still made the pit of your stomach drop in an agony-filled remembrance of home. It feels like forever ago when you used to run every morning. The feel of the harsh wind against your cheeks and the subtle pumping of your heart was washed away with the same old gray walls that you were enclosed by every single waking moment.

The sudden thought of just that sparked energy within you.

You were pretty exhausted from prior events and you thought you’d be able to get a nap or two in. But your overthinking and legitimate thoughts clouded your head and you just couldn’t find a way to sleep properly. Although now, you were ready to explore.

Well, explore the kitchen.

The mere thought of a tall glass of iced water sounds satisfactory. Especially for your often dry throat. So, you hassled out of the flooding white covers and marched straight to the door, pulling down the only thing that covers you; a large white t-shirt— presumably his. The urge to soothe the parchedness that swirled within you only strengthened as you trekked past the door and into the ominous hallway. You werent for sure if he was home or not, but at this point it really didn't matter. You were thirsty and you were gonna do something about it, one way or another.

You retraced your steps from only a few days beforehand, when you had tried to escape, which had ended in complete failure. Thinking back to it, it surprises you that he actually knew you were in the walk-in pantry the entire time.

It seems like he knows just about everything.

Like you remembered, the hall opened up into a large, modern looking kitchen that could possibly sustain an expensive restaurant if it really had to. Before you could pause in absolute awe by just gaping at it, you get straight to work in finding a glass. You swung open most of the cabinet doors, opening to mainly spice racks and pots/pans that looked pricier than your own vehicle. You finally found something that could fit the desired contents and you went straight for the fridge. Just as quickly, you dip your cup in the little boxed formation and listen to the ice cubes soothingly fall. You didn't even worry about the deafening bangs of the cubes as they fell from the dispenser, or the crackling or the cool water slipping down and around their entirety.

God, it looks like heaven.

You bring the cylindrical shape up to your lips and let the freezing water slip down your tongue and throughout your body. It cured any and everything that seemed to be wrong, at least for the moment. You dont stop your drinking until the water is fully ingested and the ice begins to burn the tip of your nose. You place the glass carefully on the counter and deeply inhale, shutting your eyes for a brief moment to think.

You’re tired of staying in that room all damn day, and you need a change of scenery. You know there’s got to be way more in this house than just the couple rooms you’ve ventured in, and what’s the worst that could happen?

Aww, he spanks your ass again?

Like that would solve anything anyway. He should know by now that it affects you differently. He seems to know everything else about you. It’s actually really frustrating. For him to know all the details and you’re left in the weird gray area that’s clueless and dumb. It makes you so aggravated and angered, and you wanted to oh so bad, put your foot down in some way.

So, that’s what you’ll do.

A devilish grin comes across your face as you leave the kitchen, waltzing into the dining area with scouring eyes. What could you possibly do to make the “almighty capturer” upset? The first thing to come across your head was unorganization.

He seems like a perfectionist, someone who likes everything put in their exact places and to not be tampered with. You share that similar quality, but you aren’t an extremist like him.

You first lay your eyes on the dining room table, the centerpiece along with the runner looking a little too nice. With a sense of urgency, you decide sabotage. Firstly, you grab the extravagant-looking art sculpture and set it on the floor. After, you crumple the cloth underneath it. With an odd smirk, you pull out all the chairs in not so orderly fashion.

Wow, Y/N, you really did some damage..

Taking a couple steps back to look at the petty mess you've made, a chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sigh yet again. You shrug the simplicity away from your head and continue your walking. You come about a spiraling staircase and instantly begin to climb it, eager to see the upper floor’s decor. Your hand slides against the railing as you become steps closer to your desired destination, another chic and modern looking domain before your eyes. Unlike the downstairs, this room held a lot more art work and a certain professionality you couldn't begin to explain, but you continued to move forward. You approach another hallway, except this one withheld a deadend, large double doors that open outward. It somehow gained your attention and you couldn't help but want a quick look inside. Nothing was really stopping you and there are no signs of him around, so why not?

You didn’t really need an answer, you just went ahead and did what was on your mind. Exerting the small amount of force needed to push down the handles, you pull the doors open wide and focus your eyes on the room’s interior.

Men, sat all along a table that led all the way up to him.

Your eyes widen in immediate shock and your jaw drops open. All of their heads turn in the direction of a barely dressed girl standing in the doorway, disrupting the importance of a meeting with their leaders.

You.

Papers were strung all over the long piece of oak and there was bustling before you rudely interrupted their transactions and communicating, but you were too frozen to react or runaway.

“What the fuck are you doing up here, Y/N?” He said your name with such a deep and dark mannerism, it made your pussy throb unexpectedly. “I- Uhm, I.. Bathroom?” Words wouldn’t come out straight, no matter how hard you tried. You felt the stares of a million, but you could only focus your gaze on him.

And he looks furious.

What could you do to escape all of this? Well, running actually. You take off just as you see him get up from his seat. You speed back down the hallway you first walked down and curved through the different paths you had taken prior. The faint “go fucking get her” that spilled from his lips had made it to your ears and a certain fear ignited within you.

You could hear the footsteps behind you, but you didn’t stop. You were almost down the steps, until that menacing touch of someone grabbing you right before freedom— immersed around you. You knew it wasn’t his arms wrapped around you, but you didn’t dare look back to see whose it actually was. You wanted to cry, struggling to stay in his grasp as he lifted you back up and into the meeting room from whence you came.

“Let her down, Marc.” His wondrous voice filled your ears and you’ve never felt so secure yet troubled in your entire lifetime. The large arms unraveled from around you and you were softly placed on the ground. You didn’t dare to look up, but instead focus on the ground beneath you.

“Get your ass over here, slut.” His dark voice filled the quiet room, and your heart plummeted at the sound of such a slur. Sadly, you could only listen to him, so you walk carefully around the table, making your way to his perch. You weren’t even fully near him until his arm reached out and clutched your wrist, forcefully pulling you towards him. He roughly laid you over his lap, in front of everyone, and pulled up the bottom of your shirt, allowing every eye to see you lower half nakedness.

And just like the early morning prospects, an echoing slap to your ass filled the room’s silence. “This is what fucking happens, Y/N. When you disobey me.” You could tell his jaw was clenched and his face was red with anger by the way he was talking. Tears began to form in your eyes, but not from the pain, but from the embarrassment.

How’re you supposed to face all the people in this room, after getting an ass whooping for the second time today?

“Guess you don’t know how to fuckin’ listen well, do you Y/N?” He kept saying your name like it was some kind of extravaganza, which humiliated you all the more. You didn’t want everyone to know who you are, laid across a grown man’s lap and getting seriously aroused amidst people.

Out of the blue, he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you back up to face him, a dark red spread across your cheeks. “Lucky I don’t make you suck my fuckin’ cock in front of all of ‘em. Then they’d know you aren’t such a bad little girl, wouldn’t they?” He whispers against your ear as he sets you on his knee, facing the direction of the stone cold men veering their eyes on everything but you— away from the awful scene.

You shake your head to his words, feeling his large hands linger under your shirt. “Don’t think so? Would that embarrass you, sweetheart? Cause I couldn’t give a less fuck about that right now.” His hands continue to travel upwards, wrapping around the both of your unclothed breasts, the thin shirt material not doing much justice.

“Please, no. I-I’ll do whatever you want, just please— not here.” With those words of plea, you cross your arms over his hands and train your eyes to the floor in humiliation.

“Get back to you room, and don’t leave it. You’re on thin fucking ice, princess.”

to be continued...

a/n: don’t ask me why, i really don’t know why he has such an affinity for spanking her 🤷‍♀️ and it’s also 1:00 am that I finally finished this.. procrastination at its finest..

#dolan twins #dt #dolan twins smut #grayson #ily #ethan dolan #ethan grant dolan #grant #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #capture #grayson dolan smut

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chimswae · 3 years

Text

BTS Caretaker CH29

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,753

- Author Note: Mild smut ahead (more to heated makeout session though hahaha) so, you have been warned on my cliche smut writing, i really dont know how to write a proper smut.So sorry for that, u can skip that part :)

Previous | Next

Chapter 29

“Coming!” hurriedly, Hoseok ran to the front door and he’s welcomed by the stack of boxes in someone’s arm. And that someone’s arm happened to be Seul. He pressed his lips together while taking the view in front of him with questionable gaze “wow, someone is planning to move in today?” Seul leaned her body against the wall to stabilize herself.

“Jung Hoseok you better make way for me if you don’t have any intention to help!” her faint hollered was muffled behind the stack of boxes.

Hoseok snapped out of his daze and quickly apologized before lending his hand to help the small girl. “What are these Seul? Why are you carrying all of these by yourself?”

“Present from Armys. I claimed it from the management office” he lifted the first box from the pile, groaning at its weight as he carried it inside. Not even half of the burden were lifted off from her and it really annoyed Seul to the core.

“Unbelievable! Are you really going to take one box from…ugh.. Goodness, you are impossible Hobi!” she nagged. Seul struggled out of her converse and entered the place carefully. When she thought she’d been careful enough, her knees buckled due to the extreme loads which did not match her size.

Seul blamed Hoseok for leaving her with the remaining boxes and chose to pick only one from the piles. Ungrateful Sunshine! She mentally groaned in dissatisfaction. Easing the boxes down on the ground carefully, Seul made sure her lower body could withstand the weight for few more minutes.

Her movements grew sloppy and uncoordinated “Ouff…” without warning, she screeched loudly garnering everyone’s attention. Seul stumbled forward and crashed on top of pile of boxes. To make it sounded humiliating, her face was buried inside one of the boxes and she had to literally hold her breath from sniffing the goodie bags inside.

“Seul?” “Seul what happen!” “Seul-seul are you okay?!” heavy footsteps could be heard from every corner. It seemed like everyone was in rush to the crime scene. A hand reached out to her arms, pulling her from inside the box and examining her body to find scratches on her skin.

Jin patted her cheeks, looking frantic “Did you get hurt anywhere?” finding herself breathless due to the small accident, she finally expelled a soft sigh along with small chuckle.

“Sorry. I am okay, I didn’t mean to worry-Yah Kim Seokjin” she was pulled into Jin’s warm embrace baffling everyone in the room. The members were snickering sarcastically, judging dramatic Jin throwing shades on him.

She palmed his chest, pushing the latter away from her body to create some space for both of them to breathe. “Aren’t you being a little too dramatic?” Jin shot her a disapproval look and trailed her gaze to the rest of the members who had their usual bitch-hands-off-her look across their face.

He knocked the top of her head with his knuckle “ Yah Kim Seokjin? Where is your Jin Oppa? Aren’t you being too informal? ” her nose scrunched up in disgust and turned to others seeking for morale support. Namjoon opened his arm welcoming Seul in his embrace. He grinned widely until the dimple appeared. She rushed to his arms, as Namjoon enfolded his long arms around her earning low protest from the floor.

“Since when you are so touchy with Seul?” said the maknae bitterly.

Jimin shook his head frantically “I cant.. handle more competition. Don’t fall for hyunggie Seul-ah!” he snorted with his whiny voice. She refused to entertain the whiny baby and sealed her mouth until then. The more she showed her response, the longer she had to watch these boys irrelevant mouth fight.

Namjoon paid no attention to others and rubbed her arms urging Seul to come with him to his room “Where are you bringing her?!” Jin shouted from the living room watching their body slowly disappeared from his vicinity. Yoongi rolled his eyes, escaping the commotion to his room.

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

Seul spent two hours in Namjoon’s room watching English shows though she barely survived throughout the shows, Namjoon was kind and patient enough to translate some difficult terms for her. Hoseok and Jimin would come to check on them every five minutes until the couple had enough and decided to lock the door.

The first 10 minutes, Jin pounded on the door like a mad man demanding the leader to return Seul back to them or else they would call help to open the door. The guys seemed to have so much time in hand today that they chose to pick on Namjoon and Seul instead of minding their own business.

After wasting his energy in persuading Namjoon and Seul unlocking the door, Kim Seokjin gave up and finally they could find some peace.

Nibbling on her chips halfway, she dropped the remaining on her lap as she pointed at the screen with a soft gasp “ Is it even ethical to kill someone and get away from it?!” Namjoon chuckled softly and hummed a soft yes.

“This is so fucked up!” Seul threw her arms in the air and rubbed her pounding head. He flicked his eyes up and down before his left brows shot up in either surprise or disapproval of Seul’s choice of words “Language. You have been spending too much time with Yoongi hyung” flicking her forehead lightly, the girl pouted in protest.

Namjoon’s forehead creased into a frown “ It is called ‘How To Get Away With Murder’ for this reason duh. The title itself already give away the idea of the story. You are being a drama queen” she curled up beside him and brought her attention back to the television screen.

“I know, but it doesn’t make any sense. If I were Wisse Gribbins, I would tell the police and leave his friends to deal with their own problem”

“It is Wes Gibbins. You sounded so Korean” he corrected and let out an amused laugh. She smacked his forehead softly, scowling in disapproval “The last time I checked, I am Korean, Rap Monster-ssi” he cringed at the way how she called him by his stage name. It was his first time to hear it from Seul and for some reason it created a huge gap in between those words. Unfriendly, yes that was it.

“That sounds even horrible. Just stick with Namjoon. Rap Monster-ssi doesn’t fit you” he glared down at her and ran his fingers in her hair out of habit.

“But, I meant to ask something… Just your view, tell me honestly alright? I have been thinking to change my stage name” he bit his lower lips as if in deep thought.

The corner of her lips pursed up as she nodded “To what? Joonie? O-ri?” he scoffed.

“Joonie is too cute! Stop bringing up O-ri, I am so over my Hiphop Monster figurine which resembles a duck, ugh now I have to live with that”

Seul tilted her head, thinking deeply before responding “ Jji-Mon! (RipMon)” clasping her hand together, her eyes twinkled in happiness as if she just won the big prize of the night.

Namjoon stared at her blankly trying to brain Seul’s words. He regained back his ability to talk not long after.

“What in the world? How did you know about that! It was long time ago, and I thought you weren’t a fan Seul. Or are you secretly my fan since start but you got to hide it because you are too shy to admit it?” he drew his own conclusion annoyed the hell out of her.

Sneering sarcastically, she poked his forehead returning Namjoon to his original position as he had moved a little too close to her “I saw the concept trailer, whereby you and Jimin had to rip off your shirt. You really are a true god of destruction; how could you rip it off at once when Jimin’s shirt was looking fine after the deed, unlike you. Tsk, Rap Monster-ssi” she teased.

“That was wardrobe malfunction. Stop using that against me. I won’t ask your opinion for my stage name anymore, you are a true Army, what do I expect? You will make me use those funny nicknames��

“Hey! I am not your Army. And those nicknames aren’t that bad. I found it is entertaining” he chuckled lightly.

“Alright you are not my Army. However, you are our girl. So, let’s get back to our main topic, shall we? About my stage name. I am thinking of making it official. Instead of using Rap Monster, I want to use RM. What do you think about it?”

Seul beamed “RM sounds professional and cool!”

“And, Rap Monster sounded unprofessional?” he scratched his head.

“I didn’t say that. Rap Monster is good but now that you are moving forward and become bigger, I think RM suits you better though I prefer Namjoon over anything, no offence. But, Rap Monster sounds too teenager-ish to me. I like RM. I am sure Armys will love it too” she patted his head with light giggle.

He chortled “Teenager-ish. That makes sense. I am no longer the Rap Monster who wrote childish lyrics, I wish to be better and thorough in producing music. Do you think Armys will be okay with RM?” he expressed his concern. In all honesty, Namjoon did not want to screw things up especially when it involved Armys. Every decision that he’s about to make, he would put Armys in his thought.

“Joon, your fans will love it. Remember they love you just as much as you love them. Trust them. You are worrying too much. Shall we just use Jji-Mon instead?”

“Absolutely no. You are not in charge in this” he pinched her nose, frowning at her small tease.

They jumped in surprised as a loud banging at the door drew their attention momentarily “Kim Namjoon! Ji Seul! Open the goddamn door now or I swear to god I will break it down in 10 seconds!”. Kim Seokjin was screaming at the top of his lungs threatening them once again.

Springing up, she smoothed back her tousled hair and rose from her feet “I will tame the whiny lioness, stop worrying over the stage name. Let Armys know how you feel, it will make you feel better”

“Thank you Seul..I will think about it” a slow smile worked its way across his face. Namjoon knew exactly what he felt right now. And, he made up his mind about the stage name.

“Kim to the Namjoon! Return Seul safely now!” he pounded loudly.

“Ugh Jin is so annoying. Give it a thought alright?” she winked as she hurriedly went to open the door “Coming! You can stop pounding the door now Jinnie!” Seul hollered in response to Jin’s wrath.

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

The next day Seul arrived at the boys’ place to work a little later as she had to accompany Mrs Hwang for routine check-up. She went straight to tend her job as soon as she sent her mother back safely. Upon her arrival, the place was empty. They must be out somewhere or most probably at the company practicing for their next tour. In few days they will be leaving Korea and this time it’d be Wings Tour Japan Edition.

In the middle of preparation for their tour, the boys had started going in and out from the studio for their upcoming comeback which was expected to be in September. The second half of 2017 had already drained fifty percent of their energy. Hence, the thought of surviving the rest of the year until their comeback was torturing them.

Seul walked along the hallway, picking up dirty laundry in process while humming to some random songs. She stopped halfway in front of Yoongi’s private study room or more like his mini studio. He had one at the company as well as in their dorm. Yoongi would use either one of his genius lab depending on his mood. However, most of important and private stuffs would be secured in his main genius lab. The one that he had at home was a casual thing, he didn’t really put passwords to the door.

There was a small voice coming from the room, and out of curiosity she pushed the door slowly scanning the room in hope to find familiar faces like Min PD. Smiling to herself, she was over the moon to see Yoongi in his seat engrossed in his work. He didn’t even notice her presence there.

She took the chance to enter the room stealthily just to scare him a little. Chewing on her lower lips, she stifled her giggle settling the dirty laundry outside. Seul crept into Suga’s Genius Lab, shutting the door behind her silently. She stood behind him waiting to jump out or to creep up, startling him.

Seul chose the second options to appear more daring. It was Suga not Jungkook. This guy deserved a little scare just to tame him. To put it off this way made it sounded so wrong. She shook her head to get rid of the weird thought and getting ready to execute her so called guerrilla attack.

Before she could make a move, Yoongi swivelled his chair around facing the girl. Seul gawked in bafflement, giving Yoongi upper hand to pull her into his lap. “Got you” his low voice sounded awfully deep today, and it almost made Seul losing her shits.

“What are yo-“ she struggled to stand up but Yoongi tightened the grip around her torso, running his thumb in circular motion along her waist line.

“I miss you” he murmured.

She softened in his hold. “I miss you too” she encircled her arm around his neck. Seul looked startle by her own action but drawn as he inched close to her face. It was only a matter of time before their lips reunited again. Yoongi brushed his lips against her, holding her cheek in his hand drawing her closer.

He kissed her gently, cradling the back of her head, relishing the feel of her soft hair and delicate bones. Their lips moved in the same rhythm, ravishing each other lips. She stroked his chest, allowing the latter to push his tongue inside dominating this battle.

To be frank, she never expected kissing Min Yoongi would be this hot and it triggered her desire to feel more of it. He roamed his hand around her body, feeling every inch of her covered skin adding the fuel in their already heated moment. Aching for more, they pulled away from the kisses panting for clean air and before she could regain her normal breathing completely, Seul let out a small moan in his earlobe.

She clung to him, emitting a low groan as he sucked on the tender area at the base of her neck. Her voice encouraged him to explore her body further. Yoongi’s temperature rose and he went to kiss her again with so much passion. This time Seul responded to the kisses as passionate as his.

Carefully, he ran his hand to her buttocks switching her position. She straddled him on the seat, her knees on either side of his legs, wrapping herself deliciously close to his body. His fingers fiddle with the button of her blouse, when she made no move to stop him, he took the chance to unbutton them halfway down enough to reveal her chest.

Yoongi breathed softly against her lips and nuzzled her face. Their gaze met as they communicated silently with a single stare that they exchanged. Chewing her lower lips, Yoongi kissed her briefly before running his lips along her jaws. He slipped her hand under her blouse, feeling her tender skin against his hand.

Seul’s body went rigid with surprised as trembled shook her body. The euphoric warmth blossomed within her once more when she felt his hand caressing her chest inching close beneath her cleavage. His lips returned to ravage her neck knowing what it did to her. She arched towards him, holding back the moan in her throat. He nipped at her neck slowly getting harder and more insistent as time passed.

Her hand clutched onto his shoulder for support, as her free hand ran freely in his brown lock. Yoongi’s action rendered her breathless. She unconsciously moved a little creating small friction against the dangerous zone. It was supposed to be untouchable, yet as soon as she heard Yoongi deep groan. She knew she had done something inappropriate to it.

“Darn it Seul” he nibbled on her earlobe as he picked up the confuse girl, making his way to the couch behind them. He laid her down and found himself on top of her. Yoongi was not rushing into doing anything intimate with her, in fact he had been monitoring her response. If she didn’t push him away, meaning he got her permission. Up to this stage, Seul showed no sign of protest.

She slid her hands under his shirt, signalling him to take it off. His breath hitched at the sight of eager Seul beneath him making Yoongi wanted to take her right way. She took a moment to stare at his body without blinking. Seul pictured the image of shirtless Yoongi in her head, admiring his fine body that matched the perfectly milky skin. Yoongi looked effortlessly beautiful without his shirt on.

“You seem impressed baby girl” said Yoongi teasingly.

Her cheeks reddened realizing that she’d been taken a long time to admire the fine man on top of her. However, when Yoongi lips captured her once again in another long and endearing kiss, it washed off all the shyness in her.

She closed her eyes and felt the passion swelling in her. He broke the kisses and looked into her eyes “Baby, tell me when to stop” she was moved by his soft side. Despite in this situation Yoongi put her feelings above his raging hormone.

Nodding with a smile, Seul pulled his neck down and made the first move. She kissed him on the lips, using a little tongue before trailing the kisses to his neck. She knew what was she doing causing the older guy to emit a long moan while his hand gripping her hip.

Chills bumps across her body as Yoongi pressed against her, as he pinned one of her hands abover her head. He interlaced their hand together and he kissed his way down to her chest. Reaching her back, he unclasped the fabric that had been hiding the beauties in front of him. Seeing Yoongi’s lustful stare, she blushed madly and threw one of her arms to cover the twins from his prying eyes.

Their eyes locked, as he removed her hand uncovering the two beauties. He breathed sharply and mumbled “You are beautiful baby girl. Too beautiful” she anticipated what he’s about to next. She chewed her lips nervously but soon the feeling was taken over by one of the greatest pleasure in her whole life. One at a time, he just kept on and on kissing and sucking on them turning Seul into a moaning mess.

Arching her back, she pushed her chest forward letting him to have them, giving into the pleasure that he gave her willingly. While he’s working on pleasuring her, he unbuttoned the remaining button of her blouse and slipped it off her.

Yoongi held both sides of her abdomen as he moved down, pushing her legs apart. Watching her hesitation, he took the cue to trail his kiss back to her stomach, kissing it all over. He was so gentle with her, every kiss that he showered were made of love.

“Yoongs…where is everyone” she bit her tongue from expelling another loud moan.

Stroking her hips deeply, Yoongi kissed her inner thigh playfully and mumbled against her skin “Out. They won’t be back until tonight” kissing and licking her, he teased her into a frenzy. Seul grabbed the sheets tight, grunting sexily which drove Yoongi mad.

The couple continue undressing each other skilfully.

Clothes scattered on the floor leaving her with only thin fabric covering her most fragile area and so did Yoongi. He glances at her once again seeking for permission. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and that was enough to convince him that she’s alright with this level of intimacy.

She exhaled as if to steady her nerves when he finally freed her and continued to shower kisses there, earning a deep grunt from Seul. One of her hands was locking his hair, Yoongi worked his way in between with passion.

“Yoongi..” her breath hitched. Seul was reaching her peak and he knew it, just how he intended it to be. Still not stopping, he kept on with his skilful tongue. Her body tense up as she exhaled a deep breath feeling the ecstasy from his sinful tongue love making.

The sensation from his warm tongue drove her insane.

Only soft and erotic groans could be heard across the room. Just how much they longed for each other this way? They were drowned in a sea of lust and love.

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

Sitting in between Yoongi’s legs, he snuggled her closer to his body. “I want you to listen to this song. It is a demo for our new album” her eyes gleamed in excitement. “Is it alright to let me listen to it? I mean I am not a BTS member” she mumbled confusedly.

“No, it is alright. It is just a rough version of the song. We haven’t confirmed anything yet” Yoongi chuckled softly as he reached out the ipod on the glass table and adjusted the headphones over her ears.

“Ready? Tell me what do you think of it alright?” Seul nodded with a thumb up. His thumb glided over the screen, and the first strain of a smooth alternative hip hop with a light touch of jazz echoed through the headphones. She found herself enjoying the soft beat as her head tilted by its own to right and left in response.

There was not much lyric in it since they may need to come up with new changes now and then. However, she could catch small lines that they already included in the song. It was poetic and catchy.

All of my wonder You’re the answer I call you her, her Cause you’re my tear, tear

Yoong ran his thumb along the side of her waist anticipating Seul’s reaction. He had been working the songs with Namjoon and Hoseok, though the leader had already come up with the full lyrics of the outro, he still had to make sure the beat matched the lyric perfectly.

When the song ended, Seul removed the headphones and turned her head facing the handsome rapper. “That was beyond amazing Yoongi!” she grinned, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He watched the girl cracking his gummy smile “Really? I wanted to submit this last touch to Joon, so he could record the rest of the lyrics” Seul tapped his small nose.

He scrunched his nose cutely “You did great! Can’t wait to hear the full version of the song. I can feel it in my bones that it is going to be my favourite songs from your new album” just by watching her giddiness boosted his confidence.

“Don’t decide that now. There are more cool songs in the album. Wait for it. It is going to be a new side of Bangtan Sonyeondan” he brought her to his arms again, resting his chin on the top of her head.

She nuzzled her face at the crook of his neck “I am with Bangtan till the end” he caressed her hair lovingly and placed a kiss on her head.

“Of course. You are our girl” he soothed her with a deep murmur.

Their girl. Namjoon said the same thing. Her feelings were a mixture of happiness and guilt. Sometimes she was scared of her future though she promised to live the present without worries.

She couldn’t simply wash off this insecurity in her, just because it was impossible to forget. Seul had to handle her present with confidence and face her future with no fear.

Just, never let your fear decide your future.

Yeah, she’s holding onto the principle.

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

“Someone trashed our practice room!”

“The culprit tried to break into Hoseok’s hyung studio, but they didn’t get through it. I bet they or he or she whatever were in rush. They left right after they broke into Joon hyung and Yoongi hyung studios” Jungkook explained to Seul with heavy pant. He was just so mad that his veins started to appear on his skin.

Seul felt angry to hear the news, the girl clenched her teeth together “Did they take anything from the studios?” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose with a harsh grunt.

“My works were all gone. Those assholes! OUR HARDWORKS WERE ALL GONE! SCREW THIS” he yelled venting his frustration. Namjoon expelled a heavy sigh “They didn’t take anything from my studio, but the equipment was ruined. Ugh, I really want to kill the person who did this” his brow creased and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“CCTV?” she inquired.

Shaking his head in defeat “Someone tampered with the surveillance camera. The footage was deleted. I had no idea how they entered the building” Seul frowned in disapproval.

“It was odd how they trashed Joon and Hoseok studios but wiped off Yoongi’s works. The furniture and equipment in his room are untouchable. There is no sign of robbery. Could they be after Yoongi?” the eldest of the group spoke up with a deep furrow.

She sent Yoongi a sympathy glance knowing all his hard works being erased overnight, that must be upsetting. Who would do such things to him? Yoongi might appear unfriendly but he would not hurt anyone. He could spit the nastiest remarks on others who provoked his anger, yet that only happened when you tick off the Min Yoongi.

“Did you make any enemy outside? Anyone that rings the bell?” Jimin shifted his gaze back and forth from Jin and Yoongi. Then he pursed his lips, feeling defeated.

Yoongi watched him, while he narrowed his eyes in a deep thought. To think of the possibility, Jin assumption could be right. However, he couldn’t think of any names that could possibly do this to him. After he became a trainee and debuted as BTS member, he rarely got the chance to meet someone new and make new friends.

He dedicated his life for his work and Bangtan, not that he remembers making any enemy outside. Maybe few people who loathed him from choosing the easiest path to become artiste. It was a long time ago since he used to be an underground rapper. Namjoon and him were hated for being an idol so they had cut off their ties with them. That was the last time they ever met the crews and to think someone would do this to him after years sounded unreasonable.

“We found the culprit! Lets head to the company now!” their manager popped out from nowhere surprising everyone.

“What? How? Who?” Hoseok and Jungkook said in sync, as they were already on their feet.

The tall man nodded while grabbing the keys “He turned himself in. We will get our answers soon. So, let’s go now” Seul eyes widened at the revelation. If the person really turned himself in, then why would he waste his energy to commit those crime.

“Do you want to tag along?” Yoongi touched Seul shoulder “I can make use of your presence beside me, please” his eyes bore into her. Seul hesitated to know she was in no place to be around the boys publicly.

They heard their manager emitted a deep sigh, “Seul, come with us. You may need to stop someone from causing a scene” his eyes were fixated on Yoongi. He knew exactly how the guy would react, Yoongi’s anger was not a joke.

“Sure…” Yoongi grabbed his extra mask and helped to put it on her. It was needed to protect the girl from being exposed to medias or Armys. At least, they might see her as one of the staffs instead of spreading false rumours.

For an odd reason, she didn’t feel good about this. She just couldn’t rid this uneasiness in her. Was she overthinking about the whole thing?

#btscaretaker #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #yoongi fic #jungkook fic #yoongi x oc #jungkook x oc #mild smut #bts romance #suga x oc #bts x oc #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader

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knightofameris · 4 years

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an outstanding performance — marvel (stark!reader)

Setting: an AU where Peter never quit band and Michelle, Flash, and others are also in band, platonic fic!!! Gender: Neutral! Contains: fluff Word Count: 3.7k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY HOLY SHIT)

Summary: Being Tony’s kid meant everyone expected you to be some prodigy in some way. And you were—a musical prodigy at least. The last year of marching band was approaching and you’re definitely gonna be heartbroken. But as long as you had Peter, Ned, and MJ by your side it’ll all be okay

a/n: I wanted to pump something out since I haven’t posted and I’ve always wanted to write something with Peter in band because I WAS A BAND KID IN HIGH SCHOOL. So. It’s also not my best work but I had fun because i reALLY MISS BAND. AND THIS IS JUST A COMFORT FIC FOR ME TBH LMAO [repost from my old account @knightofmarvel]

There’s a lot of band terms that I don’t think people will understand unless you were a band kid so here’s a little… mini explanation. This is what I used for my band by the way.

Sound off = just be louder I guess? Met = metronome The box = the area in the stadium where the announcer is always in Trumpet, mellophone, baritone/euphonium, tuba = brass instruments Flute, clarinet, alto sax, tenor sax, bari sax, bass clarinet = woodwind instruments Percussion = anything you can hit with a stick basically (including piano because piano keys control something that hits the string) Guard/color guard = the people who spin flags, sabers, and rifles. They also toss it in the air and do other crazy shit (deadass, guard people were so badass i dont get why people called them discount cheerleaders when guard works just has hard, if not harder. like u try tossing a fucking rifle up in the air. this girl legitimately went an entire show after splitting her brow causing her to bleed horribly and finished smiling soooo) Drum majors = people who conduct and is also basically in charge of the entire band Reps = doing something over and over, usually a certain exercise in music or marching technique or a certain part(s) of the show Set = Can mean multiple things, either a certain part of the show or getting ready for the rep they’re about to do (usually shown by holding the instrument up in “set” position) Stand-by = relaxed but still in attention Holding at pistol/rifle = more relaxed but usually saved in show or when instructors/whoever tells stories. Different instruments have different positions thus the pistol/rifle Horns up = instrument in mouth Horns down = instrument not in mouth, same position as Set.

Let me know if there are any mistakes! **no beta, we die like men

Enjoy!

“Senior year boyyysssssssss!” You screamed once you entered campus that warm summer morning. Ned and Peter turned around to see you running towards them, about to tackle them. Other band leaders, and especially the senior drum majors, cheered with you.

Ned and Peter, however, did not.

Instead, their eyes widened in fear and they raised their arms up, telling you to not jump at them. But alas, it was too late and you tackled them to the ground.

“Dog pile!” Someone, Adam (one of the drum majors) probably, shouted. And one by one, a group of your fellow bandmates fell on top of you. Each one of them caused you to let out a breath. Peter and Ned taking the brute of it.

“Alright alright, you idiots,” your band directed teased. You all looked up to see Mrs. Ha standing there with her hands on her hips. “Get up, you guys are scaring the freshmen.” She glanced over to the bandroom door where tiny heads were sticking out.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, everyone starting to stand up off of each other. You raised both of your hands down for Peter and Ned, they both took it and you helped them up.

“Damn, (Y/n), why’d you have to do that?” Ned asked. He then reached down for his hat. Something that was mandatory for all band members to wear during practice. Especially during band camp in the summer.

“It’s tradition!” You cheered, wrapping your arm around each of their neck. “Can you guys believe it? We’re seniors.”

“Yeah, and you’re woodwind captain man,” Peter nudged you in the side.

You grinned and then walked in front of them to grab your backpack, clarinet case, and water jug. You turned around once they were all in hand. “Yeah, but at least I got my two trusty section leaders to lead with me.”

“What about me?”

The three of you turned around to see MJ with her hand on her hip. She had a slight smirk on her face.

“Uh,” you started to say, “to be fair, you’re in the brass section.”

“You could have switched,” MJ retorted, walking up to you and lightly punching you in the shoulder.

And you could have. Afterall, you were a musical prodigy. Especially considering the fact that you were the kid of Tony Stark. You didn’t have much of a knack for STEM, decent at it but only when you put in the extra work to the point of stress. But you had a knack for music.

Your dad noticed your gravitation towards music when you were a toddler and when you didn’t enjoy being in the lab as much as he thought you would have been, as a Stark. But you enjoyed music so he signed you up for piano classes. Then you wanted to learn more instruments and made your way through the wind instruments and then more percussion instruments. From flute to clarinet to alto saxophone, from trumpet to french horn, to, of course, piano and the drumset. You had a lot of range. The clarinet being your favorite instrument to play.

You narrowed your eyes at MJ, “But then you wouldn’t have been brass captain. And do you think I can leave the woodwinds to be left in charge by these losers?” You pointed to Peter and Ned.

“Hey!” They both protested.

“Guys! Roll call is soon and they’re introducing all the leaders to the entire band,” Adam said, holding the metronome in his hand.

“Yeah, got it,” You and Michelle said, both with a slight authoritative tone in your guys’ voice. You both exchanged glances with a raised brow.

“Wow, the captain in you guys is really coming out,” Peter teased. You both rolled your eyes. You went to go walk beside Michelle. On the way into the bandroom.

“Oh man, I just hope I don’t accidentally make a freshman pee their pants this year.” You walked straight into the bandroom and Peter laughed, remembering that clearly last year when you were section leader.

“I just don’t want to do running block,” Ned complained, trudging behind you. “I hate band camp.”

“Ditto,” MJ remarked. Peter shot her a look.

“Shouldn’t you be hyping it up, for the freshmen?”

MJ shrugged, “Yeah, but I can complain to you guys.”

“Fair enough.”

***

“Sound off guys!” You shouted as the band did reps across the field in across-the-floors. In a moment, the voices of the members got louder, counting in time with the met. You looked around yourself, making sure there were no members dicking around too much. With it being so far into the marching season already, you didn’t want any of them to dick around so much where they’d regret it if your guys’ band didn’t perform to the best of your ability at your last competitions.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he prepped to step off on the other side. He stuck his tongue out then faced forward with his clarinet in hand. His mouth moving with his voice being just loud enough to be heard as he began to count off. He was the backline with three other freshmen near him who didn’t count at all. All three of them clarinets as well.

You called out their names, telling them to sound off until one of the visual instructors cut the metronome. Peter continued, trying to keep time without it loud enough for the freshmen to stay with him.

“Alright, stop!” The instructor, Alicia, shouted. Peter stopped, relaxing his arms and putting his clarinet in his hand with standby. The entire band stared at him in silence, waiting for what he had to say. “We have three more competitions to go. One more football game. And then we have Grand Nationals. We’ve been doing this since June. It’s October! I’m doing all I can to push you guys, it doesn’t matter if you’re a freshman anymore. You’ve been in this program so you know what we expect. In the end, it’s up to all of you guys how bad you want it. Do you guys want to make finals?”

A chorus of yeah’s came from the students. Something caught your eye as the instructor continued to talk. Flash was dicking around, mocking the instructor and when the instructor was quiet you called him out.

“Hey Flash, why don’t you run a lap?” You asked. Lucky you, he was an alto saxophone, so completely in your control.

“Wh-What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Flash argued. You raised a brow.

“Oh really? So you weren’t even listening to Alicia as she was talking?” You retorted. “You said you weren’t doing anything right? I guess that’s still a lap.” Someone next to him nudged him, telling him not to argue and he groaned.

He walked off to the side, setting his instrument down.

“Next time, don’t mock her when she’s trying to help us. Especially since you’re the only senior who doesn’t sound off.” Flash glared at you while you kept a smirk on your face.

He murmured, “Fucking Stark.” Then went off into the run. That’ll earn him a talk after practice.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” Alicia said, shooting you a smile. You gave her a nod

Percussion and color guard began walking into the stadium and prepped to practice with the rest of the band.

“Alright, I’ll cut this rep short, go grab a gush and wait for instructions,” Alicia ordered. The teenagers began to run off the field and towards their water jugs were with their own section.

“I don’t get why Flash is even more annoying,” Peter muttered. You and Peter watched Flash continue to run around the track as you drank water from your jug.

“It’s probably because he didn’t get any leadership position,” Cindy suggested. She stood next to you two, also a clarinet section leader.

“Yeah, well, Ned deserved the alto sax position,” you said. “Not Flash, he’s an asshole.” The other two nodded their heads.

A high pitched whining noise came from the box and everyone flinched and groaned, staring up at it.

“Oh, sorry guys,” the band director, Mrs. Ha, said. “Hornline captains, lead the warm up for your section. Mr. C and I won’t have enough time this practice.”

You turned to face your section, calling out to them and raising your instrument in the air. You led them to wear the respective drum major that conducted for the woodwinds for warm up stood on her podium. Everyone was wetting their reeds in their mouth, save for the flute players who stood in arc warming up their instrument. The reed players began placing their reeds on their mouth pieces, then also warming it up a bit. You walked around, talking to a few of the leaders here and there. Then walking up to one of the seniors in the clarinet section and making them center while also handing them a tuner for later.

With a wave of your hand and your fist closing, everyone stopped playing.

“Stand-by,” you called out. Each member stopped fidgeting and their ears looked to you attentively. “Set!”

In a ripple effect from the edge of the arc to the center, everyone brought their horns up. You smirked. “Nice job guys, we’ve come a long way since freshman band camp. Same warm up, make sure to watch the hands.” You pointed up to the drum major, Kay, who stood on top of the podium.

“Stand-by,” she called out once more. “Doing the woodwind warm up and make sure to watch my hands. Set!”

The rest of practice went by smoothly. The drum majors standing on the podium, instructors up in the box telling instructions through a mic for the head drum major to repeat. The entire band doing what was told. Parents sat in the stands watching their kids practice.

You could have sworn you saw your dad and a few others in the stands that practice. But you paid it no mind, he’d usually come to competitions but he had never gone to a practice.

So when practice was over and the band was dismissed, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ began to set back to the bandroom after all the underclassmen cleared out from the stadium. And after you gave Flash another stern talking about attitude and disrespecting instructors and leaders. Which led to him running a lap and then doing push-ups.

You and MJ were pushing the huge water jugs back as well, all of your stuff riding on the bottom of the cart with MJ’s. All four of you were joking around when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey kid!”

You jolted, turning around to see your dad standing there with Morgan on his shoulders. Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Natasha stood next to him, all of them with a smile on their face.

“Dad!” You called out, letting go of the cart and running up to him. Tony quickly set Morgan down and you hugged him. He let out an ‘oof’ on impact but hugged you back. “You’ve never came to practice before!”

“Well, I thought I should,” Tony said, kissing the top of your head. “You stink.” You tore away from him, laughing when you noticed his scrunched up face.

“Yeah, my hat’s kinda gross from practice.”

You turned to face Morgan and picked her up, setting her on your hip. You looked at the others, “Why are you guys here.”

“Got bored,” Rhodey answered. “Then thought, we might as well see what the musical Stark was up to.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re so cool, (Y/n)!” Morgan hugged you around your neck. “But scary. Just like mommy!” Your dad and you chortled with laughter and Pepper shook her head, grabbing her out of your arms.

“Yeah, you yelled at that kid for a good ten minutes,” Nat said. “Good job.”

“I’m surprised,” Steve spoke up. “I didn’t realize marching band was modeled after the military bands until Rhodey told me.”

“Yeah, you never came to one of my shows,” you playfully glared at him. But you began laughing and hit him lightly. “I’m kidding, you guys are always busy. But-” you looked at them, hopeful “-my last football game is this Friday. Then three more local competitions until Grand Nats in Indiana.”

The adults exchanged glances with each other.

“Well, you know Pep and I will be at Grand Nats,” Tony said, ruffling your hair.

“And me!” Morgan added.

“And Morgan,” Tony laughed.

“We’ll… Try.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, (Y/n).”

“It’s cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You guys are Avengers, other priorities.”

“Not to interrupt, but your friend looks like she’s struggling with the jugs.” Rhodey pointed behind you, and you saw MJ trying to push the jugs over a whole in the ground. Peter and Ned stood there, laughing at her. Your eyes widened and you bolted over to her after passing Morgan to your dad.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

***

The band sat in the stands, playing pep tunes whenever they were supposed to while the football game went on. You, of course, were dicking around with Peter and Ned. Ned sat behind you with his section and you sat beside Peter on the edge. MJ was far off in brassland, reading a book since she hated her section. She really hated trumpets.

Then the drum majors motioned to the saxes that they could do their thing and Ned stood up, ushering his section to stand up as well. You smiled, as this was one of your favorite traditions during football games.

Ned played the first note, and everyone following after. The tune of ‘Beautiful Girl’/’Stand By Me’ leaving the horns. There were a few pitch problems, but it’s not like it was a competition. Football games were always one to just relax, have fun, and do dumb shit.

Mrs. Ha even watched with a smile on her face.

“How do you think MJ’s faring?” You asked Peter. He looked back.

“Still reading her book,” he replied. “Dude, this is the last time we’re ever gonna hear Stand By me.”

You shoved Peter, “Bruh, don’t talk about it! I’m gonna cry.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “This is the last time we wear our uniform for a football game.”

“Peter!”

Peter laughed, raising his arms up in the air to block you from trying to smack him.

“Man, I’ll just do Drum Corps or whatever after this,” you muttered after giving up on hitting Peter.

“You could, that’d be badass,” Peter said. “Maybe do like percussion like tenor drums or something.”

You nodded your head, “I totally should. I’m gonna miss band a lot.”

“Me too,” Peter sighed. “But at least we can focus more on our other extracurriculars.”

You raised a brow at him. “You mean your internship?” Peter nodded his head. “You should’ve just quit band man.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, but band is fun and you’re still in it with your internship. Though, I think MJ would have found out a lot sooner if I did though.” You laughed, remembering how MJ was only slightly thrown off on Peter possibly being Spider-Man because of how he was able to be in band and a superhero. Though the same applied to you

“Okay, sure, but I don’t do missions on season, and I fight crime a little less,” you retorted. He laughed again at you, eyes filled with amazement. You were cheering at the football team, not that you knew what was going on. Just, everyone else was cheering plus it was fun.

Peter was always amazed at how smoothly you fit into the leader role, something that would put you at an advantage if you ever led the Avengers in the near future. It definitely helped when you led groups in missions or when none of the older adults were around in times of crises. Then whenever a freshman was upset or a band member got injured on the field, you always somehow ended up right next to them. Even tripping while running across the field but falling into a roll then jumping back up, then carrying said injured member off the field to make sure they were okay.

He laughed to himself, remembering each moment he shared with you and all the other band members. He’s going to miss it a lot, but he knew you’d miss it even more.

***

The sounds of cheering, the rush of adrenaline, the musical notes and perfect harmonies accompanying the melody reverberated throughout the stadium. Then when the last note came out of your horn and everyone snapped their horns down, panting and sweat glimmering on everyone’s forehead, you smiled. You started almost laughing with tears coming down your face.

You enjoyed jumping off buildings to feel the adrenaline and going through the city but that could never compare to performing. Especially considering all the hard work you, and the entire band, put in for this particular moment. Your smile widened even more when you saw both of the senior drum majors on the podium in front of you also smiling, panting, but tears in their eyes.

Then the bass drum hit and in time with the beat, the members marched off the field or went to their respective prop to push it off the field. You were part of the latter, meeting up with Peter at the same prop.

He flashed you a smile, “Don’t cry yet (Y/n), we gotta wait before the senior traditions.” Then you only started crying more when you realized you wouldn’t be on the receiving end anymore. You would be the senior participating in said traditions. You wiped the tears off with your gloves.

“Shut up, Peter,” you laughed. “I can’t help it, we made it into finals. That was our final performance.”

“Was it your best performance?” Peter asked. You just started bawling more, nodding your head. At this point you weren’t even pushing the prop, but you knew Peter didn’t even need help, being Spider-Man and all. “Then that’s all that matters.”

When the entire band made it out in the -5 degree cold air, putting their instruments away and giving the props to the band dads to put away, you finally stopped crying. Mostly because tears in this weather was always an ass with how cold it is, especially considering the uniform doesn’t give you any warmth. Before your band director could round everyone up to talk about how it was the best performance your band had ever performed this year, that it didn’t matter what place you got, you felt a small body wrap around your legs.

“(Y/n)!!”

“Mo! What are you doing?” You asked, picking her up into your arms. She was bundled in warm clothing and you saw your dad and Pepper. Then even in the distance, you saw the Avengers which made you beam.

“That was great,” your dad said, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait! No PDA in uniform.” you took a small step back. He rolled his eyes. “Kidding, I don’t care anymore. Thanks dad.” He ruffled your hair the moment you gave your shako (hat) for Morgan to hold.

“Yeah, honey, even your solo was amazing,” Pepper said, fixing your hair then kissing the top of your head.

“It was…” Morgan paused, her face scrunching as she went deep in thought. “An outstanding performance!” Morgan cheered, hugging you tightly. You, Tony, and Pepper exchanged glances.

With a raised brow, you asked, “Where’d she learn those words?”

“No clue.” Tony shrugged. Then he grabbed his dad-bag and pulled out a few cards and even small gifts. “By the way, this is from everyone. They’ll come stop by to say hi but after they have a mission to get to.”

A small smile made its way on your face and you even started crying again. Tony wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm up and down. Morgan held onto you even tighter and Pepper placed a comforting hand on your hand.

“Thank you for coming, I’m gonna miss this so much,” you sniffled. Looking around you at your bandmates and all the joyful tears being shed, the hugs, the laughter. None of them were even staring at your dad in this moment because of the last performance. Which says a lot. Well, save for a few but it didn’t matter.

“I know,” your dad said softly. “But you got to experience it and I am so proud of you, (Y/n). Section leader and then woodwind captain? Amazing. I can barely play piano for the life of me.”

You chuckled, “I can’t code for the life of me.”

“But one thing’s for certain,” Pepper said. “Starks are always a natural for their passions.”

Your band director called for everyone to gather around to give them one last after-performance talk for the end of the season. You stood next to MJ, Peter, and Ned. Some of you with tears in your eyes, but all of you with a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. Four years of band was difficult, but you all made due with each other.

You glanced back, towards your family and the other Avengers and you were so happy to know that there on the field, you knew they were all watching. They all supported you through your musical career and would never stop.

Then the drum majors dismissed all of you and you turned to try to talk to your family once more, even making eye contact with Steve until all the freshmen and other underclassmen bombarded you with hugs and being all teary eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it guys,” you mentioned, looking at Peter, Ned, and MJ, trying to get them to help you out, “I’ll be doing drumline this year, I’ll still hang ‘round the bandroom.”

Tony chuckled, watching you talk to the younger teenagers and hugging each of them. He was proud of you, no doubt about it.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x neutral!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x stark!reader #platonic!reader #a.writes

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taylorroger-s · 4 years

Text

the great pretender [2] // billy/four x reader

a/n hi!!! here’s the second part of “the great pretender” and the third 6u fic ive posted. i have so many wips right now (because i have no self control and keep on starting stories i dont have the time to finish). i sat down like 4 hours ago and this is what came out of it. i’m kind of vibing with this story ngl. sooo here's part one, please reblog, etc.

masterlist!

warnings: none!

enjoy :)

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

the address the blond man had given you led to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. you tentatively stepped out of your car, eyes scanning back and forth across the area. it suddenly occurred to you that you could have been led there to be murdered. you could walk back to your car, drive back home, and forget you ever met the british man. but you didn’t, and continued to walk towards a set of steel double doors.

it was unusually warm for that time of year with not a cloud in the sky as the sun beat down. you drew closer, searching the surrounding lot for some sign of other people. nada. the building stood about twenty feet high, a few small windows placed at even intervals on the concrete walls. definitely felt like a prime murder location. aren’t i here to “die”? you mused, hand closing around the door handle. you breathed in, out, then pulled the door open and stepped inside the dark warehouse.

it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and you flinched when the heavy door shut behind you. taking another deep breath, you started walking around the room, eyes tracking the catwalks hanging overhead. the only light streamed through the small square windows, dust drifting through the air. the light all joined in the center of the room, one spot free of shadows.

“hello?” you called out, hands clenched into fists by your side. for a moment, there was only silence, and your anxiety was steadily mounting by the second. your heart nearly stopped when you heard a set of footsteps from the other side of the room. then another. someone sounded like they jumped from one of the catwalks. another set of footsteps. and another, until you could tell that there were six people in the room besides yourself. you were frozen, waiting for the mysterious group to make the next move. your eyes were glued to the circle of light as a tall man stepped into view.

“well well, looks like four was right. you did show.” his voice was relatively neutral, and he spoke fast. he had close-cropped, light brown hair, and a short beard; a few gray hairs sprinkled throughout. he gave off heavy egomaniac vibes. you automatically were suspicious. some part of you was struggling with vague recognition of his frustratingly handsome face. had he been on the news at some point? but you couldn’t put your finger on it and let the question slide.

“i did. might i ask why you wanted me to come here in the first place?” he tilted his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. you could just barely make out the outlines and shadows of more people lingering behind him. you unconsciously readjusted your stance to feel more confident, lifting your chin to look him in the eye.

“in the simplest of terms, you’re an asset,” he spoke without letting through a whisper of emotion, a small, cold smile on his lips. his light tone was mildly irritating, and you were eager to get to the chase as to why you were there. but you already knew the answer, of course. piles of money and classified statistics would make you useful to any illegal operation. yet you decided to play dumb. letting out a breath through your nose, you placed a hand on your left hip.

“oh? to what?” you did your very best to fill your words with a mocking lilt, though it wasn’t necessarily convincing, as his eye roll betrayed. the flicker of a scowl crossed your lips before you slid back into a poker face. you heard a faint snicker from behind the man, and then a subsequent hush. they were listening.

“our crew. we’re just like you. tired of the bullshit. and we decided to do something about it,” the dangerous vibe you found on the group on a first impression seemed to be confirmed. it made you wonder what made each of them an ‘asset’ to this group, and if it was a bigger operation than just an agreement between the people in that room.

“and we know you do too.” they certainly remember my outburst last night, you thought, cringing at the memory. once you stepped into the cab, it was impossible to think of anything else but what you did and what you were thinking of doing. the rest of the night was spent on the couch in your apartment, analyzing the piece of paper the british man gave you, even dipping into the fbi database with your account to dig up any other information. you were surprised to find there was nothing you came up with except for the location and ownership of the place he wanted you to find. apparently, it had been owned by some big tech company but was later abandoned and left to fall into disrepair. besides that, your hands came up empty of all information and you ended up falling asleep while watching tv, still holding tightly to the note.

“what exactly am i in for if i say yes?” curiosity from the night before still simmered in the back of your mind, and you were becoming more and more willing to take the leap you spent the last twelve hours considering. ‘death’ in exchange for a life of freedom. it dawned on you that this man must have faked his death to avoid the very government you were employed by.

“well, this is less of a request and more of an opportunity. you can take it or leave it.” now it was your turn to roll your eyes. your original assumption that the man was egotistical came to mind again. he certainly sounded like some boys you had known in college: rich from daddy’s trust fund, filled with unearned confidence, and owner of a severe superiority complex.

“wow, you really know how to make a lady feel special.” a louder laugh sounded from the shadows behind the man, and you instinctively flicked your gaze to where it came from. an annoyed, whispered curse (in… french?) followed the laugh, which only made the person laugh harder.

“ooh, she’s got a mouth on her. nice choice quattro.” the man’s voice was rich and warm with a slight accent to his words. quattro meant four. was that a name? nickname?

“ANYWAY, you’re gonna be dead in every way, except physical. without the law to hold us, we can do anything.” the man sunk back into a slightly patronizing, dreamy tone, trying to paint a picture of the future you left your boyfriend for. freedom from your earthly responsibilities. but the cynical analyst within you won over.

“as someone who works for the government, that is highly irresponsible.” you felt almost like a mom scolding her children for cooking up a dangerous activity. the man’s smile looked sharp enough to draw blood, brown eyes growing a shade darker. you had to stop yourself from taking a step back.

“didn’t bring you here to lecture me about my poor life choices, i hear enough of that from seven. this is your chance to make the mark you have been dreaming of. now, what do you say?” another number. you had to admit, he was highly convincing. he had such sheer charisma it was hard to resist, but you drew together the best argument you could think of and forced it past your lips.

“i’m not sure… it seems like you are up to some questionable vigilante justice,” you were about to continue your motherly scolding when you felt a person move to stand behind you. their body heat sent a startling chill across your skin. they leaned in closer, mere inches from your ear.

“love, this is what you have been looking for, right? i promise you won’t regret it.” your breath hitched at the british man’s voice. he didn’t sound as confident as he had the night before, somehow seeming younger without his gorgeous features clouding your thoughts. you tried to fight back against the part of you completely convinced by the two men, but it grew stronger by the second. oh god… am i really going to do this? you took a deep breath in, out. there was no more debate. you knew exactly what you wanted, needed.

“what do you need me to do?” you breathed out, pressing your lips into a thin line as soon as the words left your mouth. the blond man behind you relaxed, and you could almost see the smile he was most likely sporting. the man in front of you nodded approvingly, rubbing his beard with his left hand.

“excellent. first step, your name is now eight. i’m one. take a wild guess as to what everyone else’s names are. second, fake your death…” eight? what? the two numbers mentioned before made sense. they were names. your name was now eight, something that you had not expected in the slightest. but you didn’t had time to argue. you listened carefully as one explained how you were going to fake your death, along with finer points about your new fellow ‘ghosts’. a few minutes later, you were caught up. you turned around to greet the others, forgetting that the blond man was standing right behind you. you stumbled, the man’s strong arms keeping you from falling. you could feel the embarrassment rise as he looked down at you.

“glad you joined up… eight.” your cheeks grew hot with every passing second he had a hand on you. clearing your throat, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms.

“that’s gonna get some getting used to.” you laughed nervously, inwardly cringing at the obvious worry in your voice. he just smiled, raising the ambient temperature by 2 degrees celsius. his gorgeous green eyes were locked with yours, and you couldn’t help but offer him a shy smile in return. you were usually much stonier when it came to complete strangers, but the man’s casual confidence was annoyingly attractive.

“you’ll catch on quick. you’re family now.” you softened a little at the care in his voice. you broke eye contact and glanced down at your shoes. a beat later, you looked back up, smirk on your lips.

“then what’s your name, casanova?”

“four,” he matched your smile, reaching out a hand for you to shake. you took it, praying he wouldn’t notice the sweat on your palm. his hands were rough with callouses, skin hot to the touch.

“pleased to meet you, four.” you responded, doing a mock curtsy once you let go of his hand. he smiled, winking at you playfully.

“likewise.”

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

yayayydufaysudf it’s done! hope ya liked it

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soapsilly · 4 years

Text

Why not? - Isabelle Lightwood Imagine

Pairings: Izzy Lightwood x reader,

Summary: (Y/N) is Simons younger sister and usually known as a outgoing and fun person but when she meets Izzy Lighwood her confidence fades and she feels like a schoolgirl having her first crush all over again.

Requests are open

This was originally a request, that I cant seem to find anymore. The pairing and setting were given to me per request so I really hope this is what the requester had in mind.

I did have something different in mind originally but got kinda carried away. I’m not sure if I’m 100% happy with the outcome but it is what it is.

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“You’re gonna love her, I promise! She’s seriously so fun” Clary was excited to finally introduce (Y/N) to her new friends. Ever since Clary found out about her mother and her true identity, a lot of things changed for her and she kinda had to let her old life behind, which included her friends.

She was lucky that she had people that cared about her and helped her to come to terms with everything that was going on around her but that didn’t stop her from missing her old life every now and then.

Right now her, Jace and Alec were waiting for Simon to bring his sister (Y/N) to meet them. (Y/N) shouldn’t even know about the shadow world but her brother couldn’t ever keep any secrets from her for long.

“There they are!” Clary exclaimed.

Simon entered the room and closely behind him was a girl about the same age.

“So (Y/N), this is Jace” Clary gestured to the blond guy sitting across from them. (Y/N) sent her friend a suggestive look and mouthed a ‘Wow. He’s a catch’.

“You’re right, Clary, I love her already” Jace, of course, always enjoyed a little stroke to his ego.

“And this is Alec” she motioned to the broody looking man sitting next to Jace. He sent her a little nod but it seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with her presence.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just worried. Technically you shouldn’t even know we exist. It’s kinda against the rules for mundies to know about shadowhunters. He’ll come around” Jace reassured the girl.

“What the hell is a shadowhunter?” (Y/N) asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Jace’s eyes widened. Did Clary not tell her? Did he just out them to her?

“Nah, just joking. Of course I know of you lot. When your brother turns into a vampire it’s kinda hard to miss, you know? Especially, when he’s having a nervous breakdown in the room next to yours.” (Y/N) explained.

That even got a small chuckle out of Alec. Ever since he got used to Clary being around he loosened up a bit. But maybe a certain cat-eyed warlook also played a part in that.

“Where’s Izzy though? Wasn’t she supposed to be here with you guys?” Simon asked.

“Yes, but there was some business in the institute that had to be taken care of. She’ll meet us here” Alec explained.

For the next one and a half hours the group got used to each other. Clary, Simon and (Y/N) got to catch up and (Y/N) got to know Alec and Jace a little better.

Right in the middle of a story about a prank Simon and (Y/N) used to play on their older sister Elaine when they were younger, a stunning black haired woman walked up to them.

“Ah Izzy! Come over here. Meet (Y/N)!” Alec shouted happily. By the time Izzy showed up everybody was several drinks deep into the evening and tipsy Alec was just really enjoying the well deserved off-time.

Izzy sent (Y/N) a big smile, “Hey it’s so nice to to meet you, I’m Izzy. I see you guys are having a good time. Even my dear brother is letting his hair down.”

That earned her a huff from Alec, who then mumbled something about him being not as stuck up as they’re always making him out to be. Which made the group fall into a fit of laughter but (Y/N) didn’t really care about any of that.

“Uhm.. Hi? I mean, nice to meet you too,” (Y/N) stumbled over her words a little, which, however, earned her weird looks from Clary and Simon. Both of them not being used to (Y/N) being timid or shy.

“Well, I’ll get a drink too then. I think I’ve got some catching up to do,” she made her way overt o the bar, (Y/N)’s eyes following her every step.

“What was that?” (Y/N) was pulled out of her trance by Clary’s question.

“Hm?” she looked at the red head.

“You just did a complete 180 when Izzy turned up.”

“Well how do you expect me not to? She’s gorgeous! Those red lips and that leather jacket! Leather jackets make everybody look amazing... and she was looking amazing to begin with. Damn, you know I’m a sucker for the bad bitch look”, she whined.

“Wait.. I know that talk. You talked the same when you just got together with that Eustace dude, that turned out to be a creep. You’re crushing on her! You’re crushing on Izzy!” Simon exclaimed, making his sister whince at his volume. She didn’t want Izzy to possibly hear.

“Wait, so you dated a dude named Eustace and were surprised when he turned out a creep?” Jace asked (Y/N) with an amused expression on his face.

“Simon I swear! If you don’t shut up I’ll tell everybody about that time you wet your pants because you were so excited to meet Celine Dion at the mall when you were seven! ...Oopsies,” she sent her brother a cheeky grin.

Jace almost choked on his drink when he heard that.

“And as for Eustace..” - she directed her answer towards Jace - “that boy way fine. It’s not my fault he turned out to be a ‘nice guy’.” she retaliated.

“You know you can joke about me all you want- “

“Oh, I will”

“As I said. You can joke about me all you want but you know I’m right. You like Izzy and you should totally ask her out.” (Y/N)’s big brother got serious for a minute.

Simon wanted his sister to be happy. It wasn’t only his and Clary’s lives that got turned upside down. The three of them were really close and with both Simon and Clary gone (Y/N) completely lost her support system. It hurt Simon to know that he couldn’t always be there for his little sister so every chance he got to take care of her, he was determined to use.

“Simon, I don’t even know if Izzy likes girls.”

(Y/N) was starting to grow frustrated when Alec spoke up, “She does... I thought you’d like to know”

(Y/N)’s head whipped around to face Alec and then looked back to her brother, who had a knowing smile on his face.

“Doesn’t matter anyways. She doesn’t even know me. I don’t know her. Why would I ask her - “ (Y/N)’s answer was interrupted by Izzy’s return.

“What are we talking about, guys?” she asked while finding a seat between her brother and (Y/N), sending the girl a smile that made her blush more than (Y/N) cared to admit.

“Oh, just Simon’s inability to hold his bladder,” Jace tried to sound nonchalant but couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice.

“Well, that sounds interesting ... anybody care to explain?” Izzy grinned at Simon.

Right as Jace was about to open his mouth Simon interrupted him, “Anybody care not to?”

After that the group got talking again. Izzy got filled up on everything she’s missed while she was busy at the institute.

“(Y/N), Clary told me your in college, yes? What are you studying?” Izzy turned to the girl next to her.

“It’s something called sociology. It’s basically the study of human interactions and social problems. It’s really interesting. I mean to me at least.” she answered. Izzy seemed interested but (Y/N) was too flustered to actually keep a conversation going. And it didn’t help that Simon stirred the conversation to (Y/N) every chance he got.

“Izzy! Did you know my sister has a thing for leather jackets? Where did you get yours? She told me she really liked the way the jacket looks on you when you were over there getting your drink.” Simon asked her. On one hand he really wanted his sister to act on her crush but on the other hand he also enjoyed teasing her a little bit like she always teased him.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when Simon said that, cursing him for being so forward.

Izzy’s eyes lit up, she loved talking fashion and makeovers especially.

“Really? That’s great! I dont remember where I got this particular one but I have some more in my room at the institute. Leather jackets are actually kinda like work attire for us shadowhunters, you know? You should totally come over sometime and I’ll set up a whole outfit for you. I already have some jewelry in mind that could really enhance your eyes. You’ll look just great. I mean.. not that you don’t look great now. You’re beautiful obviously..” Izzy got a little carried away but got more quiet towards the end when she realized that she started to ramble.

(Y/N) blushed even worse than before. Izzy called her beautiful. She couldn’t believe her ears but quickly got her act together and answered the dark haired shadowhunter beside her, “Yeah sure. That’d be cool. Let’s do that sometime.” She sent Izzy a little smile.

“Yes! Sounds like a date, guys”, Simon chimed in, “speaking of dates, (Y/N) you’re not seeing anybody lately, are you?”

“Simon stop.” Clary warned her best friend. She knew what he was up to and she agreed that Izzy and (Y/N) would be a great match. Their personalities would compliment each other amazingly if (Y/N) just stopped being so insecure. But setting them up like this wasn’t the right way.

“And what about you, Iz? Is there a special someone in your life right now?”

Simon was acting strange. Izzy furrowed her brows and sent a look towards Simon first and towards (Y/N) after.

“Sorry guys, I gonna go catch some fresh air.” (Y/N) excused herself and left the bar.

Clary hurried after her, throwing Simon a disappointed look on the way.

When she arrived outside she found a pissed (Y/N) pacing the pavement.

“That idiot. Who does he think he is? Dr. Phil? Oprah? Is a simple nice evening of hanging out to much to ask for?”

“See, I get that you’re angry with Simon but he’s really just trying to help. We’ve all seen the way you look at Izzy. You two’d have chemistry, (Y/N). Don’t you see that? You’re his little sister and he wants to make sure you’re happy. I know he took it too far but he had good intentions.” the red head tried to reason with her friend.

“No, Clary. I don’t see that. And Simon should really know better. I’m not part of your world and let’s be honest - I won’t be Simon’s little sister for long anymore either. Give or take one, two years and I’ll be older than him. I get it. I really do. You got new friends, new lives and shit and I’m really, really trying to be as supportive as I can be but I’m still back home and trying to forcefully insert me in your situation will only do harm. Look at you, look at Izzy, look at Jace and Alec. Hell, even Simon looks cool lately. Why would a girl like Izzy go out with me? I’m not even supposed to know of her existence. So I appreciate your concern but I will not ask out Isabelle Lightwood!”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) was rigid, she knew exactly who this voice belonged to but she still prayed that it’d be anybody but Izzy standing behind her. But no such luck, when she turned around the one and only Izzy Lightwood stood before her with a worried expression on her beautiful face but nonetheless her arms crossed firmly across the chest.

“I should leave you two to it, I think,” Clary mumbled awkwardly while stepping around (Y/N), sending a sympathetic smile towards her.

(Y/N) sat down on the curb rubbing her hands over her face. She was exhausted. Izzy took that as an invitation to join her.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough. Even though I don’t understand what you were saying. Why are you so hard on yourself?” she looked at (Y/N) for a long time. When she didn’t answer the shadowhunter continued, “You’re beautiful. I meant what I said earlier. You’re really pretty and I would love to get to know you. I saw how you were making everybody laugh with your personality - even my brother. I don’t know if Clary told you but Alec is really suspicious of strangers, especially ones that aren’t part of our world. This life we’re living is often very serious and we all had our fair share of grief. So maybe an outsider to lighten up the mood is just what we need. It’s certainly what I need.”

By the time Izzy finished (Y/N) didn’t feel as bad anymore but she was still insecure, “I just don’t understand why would you like me if there’s-”

“I’m gonna kiss you now”

“You’re gonna do what now?”

(Y/N) hadn’t even finished her question before she felt Izzy’s soft lips upon hers. It only took her a second or two to react but then she kissed her back. It wasn’t a lustful kiss, nor was it just a little peck, but it was an innocent and pure kiss, that the both of them shared.

When the two separated neither of them said a word. They sat comfortably until (Y/N) broke the silence, “So... was this red lipstick transfer proof or..?”

That earned her a giggle, which (Y/N) thought she could get used to.

“Okay, how about we’ll go out sometime and see where this will lead us, huh? I really want to get to know you,” Izzy asked the girl next to her.

“I feel the same way,” (Y/N) smiled.

Isabelle scooted over a little closer to her and they switched back to sitting in comfortable silence with the occasional nudge and giggle.

“Hey? Everything alright out here?” Alec was sent out by Simon and Clary to check up on the two girls because they didn’t know if (Y/N) was still angry and Simon didn’t want to risk being of the receiving end of it, eventhough he would have deserved it.

When Alec saw the two lovebirds all huddled up together a smile found it’s way on his face, “How about we go back inside now? It’s cold outside and Jace just volunteered to buy another round”

(Y/N) was the first to get up, offering her hand to Izzy to help her up, which she gladly took. Not that she needed it, it was just a nice gesture.

Back at their table they all took their former seats but this time (Y/N) was a lot more relaxed.

When Simon noticed the change in his sisters demeanor he tried to tease her a little, assuming that she’d not be angry at him anymore now that everything worked out, “I knew you two would get along just fine, little sister. That’s why you always trust in your big bro.”

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him but two could play that game, “Hey, Iz... you know Celine Dion, don’t you?”

Before she could answer Jace’s laughing voice interrupted the girl, “Man, I just LOVE that story.”

#izzy lightwood x reader #izzy lightwood imagine #shadowhunters imagine #isabelle lightwood imagine #isabelle lightwood x reader

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localspirit · 3 years

Note

Ah I’m interested in all! I assume beginning to look into spirituality will help me in the future when it comes to spirits and such! I have communicated with a ghost/ghosts before so I think I’m naturally a little more ‘open’ to spirits than the average person but I don’t really know how this works.

under the cut bc its so long!

wow thats AWESOME!!! ive been interested in spirits, spirituality, some aspects of religion like djinn for as long as i can remember but wasnt able to communicate with spirits until recently.

pendulums do you own a pendulum? it doesnt have to be anything fancy, mine ended up being a fake crystal i got from a friend that was on a necklace. out of boredom and slight curiosity i asked a yes/no question and it just started swinging with the right answer... it was really freaky!! some people believe pendulums are a scam, some think that its your arm unconsciously moving with the right answer, some think that its you tapping into your third eye clairvoyance, and some think its an angel communicating thru it. mine ended up being an angel! it took a very long time bc i had to go thru the alphabet but my pendulum uses he/him prns and his name is azhu. he says hes not a guardian angel or an angel sent by a higher power. pendulums have their own way on saying yes/no, so if you ever do get one, make sure you know what its swinging means! azhu goes left/right for no, up/down for yes, and in circles or unsure. he's predicted things like my (unpredictable, unstable) health and what college i'll end up going to, and when. pendulums can also 100% be used to communicate with spirits and djinn- that's my main form of communication!

spirits with spirits i kinda jumped into it rlly fast. remember that phase in 2016 where people on yt were like 'i bought a HAUNTED DOLL from EBAY... SCARY 3AM OUIJA'?? i suddenly remembered that. and was like... lemme have a look here. i really did just go on ebay and look at haunted dolls and thats where i met my 'first' spirit vessel i was connected to. you dont really question it, if you find yourself completely drawn into a spirit doll/toy/jewelry piece (aka vessel), theyre calling out to you. it was mean to be! spirits can be 'evil or good', but i prefer the terms 'positive and negative'. a spirit can be positive but very sad and troubled and have a bad temper. spirits can be 'evil' and seem like the sweetest things ever. to be sure, i ask my pendulum which one they are. it turns out i owned three spirit vessels and i didnt even know until my pendulum told me!! i was very attached and affectionate to them (theyre old thrifted/collectable toys) to the point where i found it a bit strange. the spirits explain it. and btw, just because a spirit has a vessel, doesnt mean theyre inside of it or anything... idk think of it as an anchor or something. they can wander around, but they can always find their way back to their vessel. a spirit can have a vessel for 100 years, or pick a new vessel very frequently. asking for activity right away annoys the hell out of them. i find asking 'how did you die?' right away a bit rude too... its like going up to a stranger with a large scar on their face shouting 'what happened to your face?'. i always ask the spirit 'is it okay to ask about your death?' before going any further. some spirits show great activity, some dont show much at all. never force it out of them! they arent a show. they have feelings and stuff! if you wanna know more about spirits i recommend watching videos from ppl with ACTUAL INFORMATIVE vids on their spirit dolls, not just the 'scary 3am ouija’ vids. i also recommend going through ebay and just typing in 'spirit vessel' instead of 'haunted doll', and just taking the time to read their descriptions. all spirits have a story!

djinn im pretty new to djinn myself! some ppl on the stricter side of islam swear that all djinn are evil and work for the devil which isnt true at all... there are lots of types of djinn, most i dont know myself!!! most djinn seek a relationship with humans, platonic or romantic. there are khodam (friendliest afaik, 'grant wishes' to humans), marid (my djinn friend! works with water. possibly a mermaid? srs.), ifrit (mischievous, want to see humans suffer), shiatan (works for the devil i think), etc. this is where things get a little hard to believe so pls pls do your research. a lot of djinn conjurers and people who work with djinn claim that djinn can be vampires, elves, succubi, faeries, mermaids, 'aliens'/starseeds, etc... which i think is SUPER cool. hundreds of people who have worked with them swear by it. people say djinn helped with the egyptian pyramids. they have their own appearance they can tell you like height and eye color, and preferences to anything. most really do want to help out humans, i wouldnt say GRANT them, but definitely wave off any negativity coming your way and to shove you on the right path. they can be really protective. king djinn can have hundreds of thousands of djinn working for them. DEFINITELY do your own research, a lot of it before having a djinn attached to a vessel you own, or purchasing a vessel from a conjurer. i really do recommend just taking your time one day to scroll through etsy when you search 'djinn vessel' and just taking the time to read their descriptions, and LOOKING AT THE REVIEWS. i was skeptical and then i saw '85 reviews under item, 5/5 stars'. i read every single review, every description, everything i can. u can learn so much from peoples experiences. it really is amazing!!

just to be clear i didnt conjure my djinn myself ! i contacted a conjurer on etsy when i was ready and she literally had him attached to my ring in SECONDS. it was crazy. you can find her here!

misc a big part of spirituality is learning about your chakras, unblocking them, and eventually opening your third eye. there are lots of informative videos on chakras, and im still tryna open my third eye myself! i meditate every few days and have been close to astral travel (which some spirits can interact with you through! dreams too. theyre called 'dream walkers'.). i REALLY recommend binaural beats videos for meditation, not just rain noises or something. like this . there are thousands of videos for this kinda stuff... take the time and find one that works best for you! if you need ANY clarification or anything just lmk because i love talking about this stuff and im sure i left lots out okay!!! i also have a spirituality page you can find here!!

#ask

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cagestark · 5 years

Note

Can i request something i dont see enough of, which is AlphaPeter/OmegaTony ? :D Lots of fluffy happy stuff, i love angst too a slong as theres a happy ending - { holographic-starker }

this was a tough one to write, but I enjoyed myself and feel like I learned a lot about myself as a writer, even. Thanks for the request, let me know if you’re displeased

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: ABO, consent issues because Tony is in heat. Alpha!Peter, Omega!Tony. Peter is 18+ though. Explicit.

The thing is, the kid is too polite.

Peter is freshly eighteen when he moves into the tower and begins interning for Tony, spending every last moment Avenging and patrolling and attending online classes. Being thirty years older than the kid, a part of him assumes that he should take on the role of a cantankerous old man complaining about the boorish youth. His knees have certainly taken it upon themselves to method act, protesting hours spent cross-legged on the floor. His hair has obviously been visiting wardrobe and makeup without his notice, because there are more gray hairs there than he remembers there being last year, last season, last month.

All this to say that Tony is getting older, and it is no secret that the younger generations are fucking irritating. Disrespectful, he’d say, channeling Howard or Jarvis through that internal Ouija board that keeps coming back no matter how many times he throws it out. And alright, it’s part of their rite of passage. Find him a generation who doesn’t annoy their elders and he’d eat Cap’s shield.

The one exception: Peter.

The kid has sweetness in his DNA. Authenticity clings to his red blood cells which explains why every bone in his body is genuine and kind. The respect he shows the Avengers is nearly comical—would be, if it didn’t drive Tony up the walls for other reasons. He is firm and gentle, thoughtful and conscientious. There are no valid complaints to be had about him.

The kid, if anything, is too polite.

Which means that he can’t possibly be doing this on purpose.

Peter presenting as an alpha shocked Tony to the core, and he wasn’t alone. “I’ve had him pegged as an omega since he was in diapers, Tony,” May had whispered to him while they watched Peter having his blood drawn by Bruce inside the Hulk-proof enclosure beneath the ground at Stark Tower. Judging by how Peter’s face flushes red, he can hear through the glass.

“A lot people had me pegged as an alpha,” Tony responds, maybe a little too coldly. But maybe it hits a little too close to home—children having their designations determined for them at such a young age. How much of Peter’s upbringing had influenced his disposition? Had he been groomed to be an omega even despite his biology? The thought makes Tony sick. He knows how that feels. He knows. “This doesn’t change anything about him. He’s still Peter.”

But it did change things.

Because now they are playing this game together, and either Peter is a better bluffer than Tony ever anticipated, or the kid genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing to the older man.

It starts the first day Peter returns to his work in the lab after his rut. They have been putting in hours together working on a new AI, one Peter has affectionately dubbed Saturday, no matter how many times Tony tells him that the key to a good name is all in the acronym). Since it is Peter’s first effort to make an artificial intelligence, Tony is letting him lead. He is bent over the lab table examining a microchip the size of his thumbnail, miniature soldering iron clutched between in his fingers when the door to the lab opens.

He whirls around on the stool, beaming. Peter is dressed in his old Midtown High sweatshirt, the collar of his dress shirt blooming around his neck. His hair is dark from a shower, wet curls clinging to his forehead. He looks—good. Healthy. Strong. Fertile.

They smell each other for the first time.

It’s not Tony’s right to tell anyone to wear scent blockers, though he ingests his own via pill form twice a day, showers with them, has them mixed into the sterilization stations at lab’s exits so he can clean his hands and neutralize any happy-angsty scents that were brought about during the day’s tinkering. Because it’s a polite thing to do. Alphas and omegas are very sensitive to smells. Polite alphas will wear blockers to avoid overwhelming omegas or antagonizing other alphas in public—and when it comes to omegas, scent blockers are like protection, like the nano-tech suit he goes nowhere without. If no one can smell Tony, they can’t look at him like a piece of meat, lust over him, come on to him when all he’s trying to do is walk down the fucking street.

The kid is not wearing blockers. Before he presented, Peter had the blandly neutral scent of a beta, and he would have been incapable of scenting Tony. Peter smells of something fond. It takes Tony only a moment to place it: the mahogany of the bookshelves in his childhood home, the lemon-basil scent that would cling to Jarvis after days spent in the kitchen.

He sees Peter’s nostrils flair, surely trying to take in a scent that for all intents and purposes, he shouldn’t be able to smell. But by the way his eyes go hooded, throat bobbing, he can. The boy’s mouth opens, literally mouths the word wow. Tony feels remarkably like a rabbit caught in a dog’s gaze.

Tony burns himself. “Fucking—fuck!” He drops the soldering iron and it barely misses the microchip.

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?”

Peter comes over to examine the burn, a dark, flushed pink, the skin already raw and shiny. The smell comes with him, each of the boy’s emotions playing out like a symphony for his nose: concern, comfort, anxiety. And yeah, arousal.

Tony pulls away before their skin can touch, jamming his hands into the gloves that he should have been wearing from the start. “Fine,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

Peter becomes—distracting. At best. Arousing at worst. Days spent in the lab under Tony’s tutelage are filled with emotions for the young, enthusiastic boy: joy when he solves a problem, frustration when he can’t, the soft melancholic scent of rotting wood on days when his smile is muted and his eyes seem far away. Tony is too receptive to him. More than once, he’s found himself opening his mouth, desperate to ask for the love of God, Pete, will you take a shower? Will you wear something, anything, to come between your scent and my nose? But the kid doesn’t deserve that, and Tony isn’t sure he could stand the embarrassed, insecure scent he’d give off after being confronted. The need to comfort might be too strong to overpower.

Tony does his very best to maintain a professional relationship, but Peter seems determined to cross every boundary.

Next comes the scenting. To be fair: maybe he doesn’t know how incredibly personal it is. Tony knows that it’s common in schools to separate kids by designation and teach them only the information absolutely pertinent to them. Maybe growing up small and thin and soft hearted, pegged O’ from birth, they didn’t teach him what it means when an alpha scents someone who they aren’t related to.

Tony himself doesn’t know what it means when Peter does it. Maybe Peter doesn’t even know, maybe it’s just an itch that needs scratched, and he knows that scenting Tony can scratch it. Some things are just that innocent. But on his dark days when Tony is hunched over at the lab table, back and eyes aching from working through the night, all it takes is Peter brushing by. His steps will stutter just beyond Tony’s shoulders. He inhales—now Tony is trained like one of Pavlov’s dogs, and the relief, the arousal, it often comes right then, even on just the inhale—and then Peter’s forehead will loll forward, soft hair and skin nuzzling at the scent gland on Tony’s neck until their scents are mixed. Until Tony’s body is soft and pliant (except for his cock, which is hard and throbbing).

Then Peter moves on like nothing happened.

What the fuck, Tony sometimes mouths, keeping his eyes on the tablet in front of him, terrified to turn and acknowledge what the boy just did.

It might not be so bad if they weren’t so fucking compatible. Yeah, he can admit it. Tony had spent weeks agonizing about that after the kid first brought his scent down into the lab, he’s come to terms, thanks. It’s a biological fact, one he remembers any time he takes in a whiff of mahogany and lemon-basil. God, he didn’t think a smell could be so comforting and arousing all at once. It makes him ache, someplace in his chest where the arc reactor used to sit, and somewhere lower, deep in his pelvis where he should have grown children, if he’d been a decent omega. If he hadn’t spent so long trying to pretend to be an alpha, frying his biology, cooking his ovaries right to medium-well-done, AKA infertility.

What use would Peter have for him? Tony is old, past safe childbearing years even if he wasn’t barren. Alphas want legacies, they want homemakers, they want everything Howard worked so hard to empty Tony of. Far too often he finds himself maudlin and thinking such thoughts before the futility of them strikes him. His attractiveness is a non-issue; he is determined that he and Peter will never come together that way.

As it is, the scent blockers Tony takes, while being ultra-effective, aren’t as effective for a pair—not a pair. No, they’re not a pair. Just two friendly friends, mentor and mentee, platonic hi there Mr. Stark how are you doing goodness, no knots involved. God. He should not be thinking about the kid’s knot—anyway, the blockers aren’t as effective for people who are as compatible as Peter and Tony are. They are his last defense, and he often burns through them before the afternoon hits, body working overtime to make his scent potent again so that he might have a chance to attract the virile alpha across the room. It’s embarrassing, smelling so badly of pining omega that he can smell himself in the enclosed space of the elevator.

Like he is right now.

Although, it isn’t the elevator. It’s the bathroom.

Tony grabs the hand towels off of the rack and stuffs them at the bottom of the door where the crack is, desperate to keep his own smell in and Peter’s smell out. Then he crawls into the bathtub there and draws the curtain shut. As if that’s going to help.

He looks to the ceiling, wondering why a deity he doesn’t even believe in seems to be punishing him like this. Inside his pants, his cock is aching, and he can’t help but to press the heel of his hand against it, exhaling in the brief relief it gives. Lifting his wrist to his nose he breaths deep and can’t stop the groan that passes his lips. He smells like Peter, their scents combining, lemon and sugar to make lemonade, so sweet his mouth waters and his teeth ache.

When Peter arrived in the lab just moments before, he’d brought with him the scent of fury: scorched earth, and something sadder. His eyes were red from tears, lips pressed thin together. Tony watched him, paralyzed, as he tried three different times to enter his access code to the lab before FRIDAY showed mercy and let him in. Then as soon as there was nothing between them, it was like two oppositely charged magnets coming together.

They collided. Tony’s arms wrapped around him and Peter’s nose buried in that spot between his neck and shoulder, inhaling and exhaling fire on Tony’s exposed skin. Peter babbles away, lips brushing his skin, something about an argument with Ned and MJ, both sides feeling neglected and wronged, long overdue issues just now bubbling to the surface, he’d imagine. He can barely focus on what the boy is saying. It feels like there’s an invisible hand on the back of his neck, tilting him into the perfect position for his alpha to scent and find comfort in him. Tony holds him until all the anger and hurt and helplessness have seeped out of him.

What the fuck, Tony mouths to the ceiling. One of these days, he’s going to ask FRIDAY to create a montage of his WTF moments so that he might literally have concrete footage of how weird his life is.

Then one of Peter’s hands drifts up like he is going to cup Tony’s shoulder, but instead he firmly presses his thumb into the gland there and it’s like Thor has sent a bolt of lightning down. Tony’s entire body jerks and melts, every bone in his body relaxing for his alpha except for the one in his pants, and speaking of, Peter whimpers and shifts and there is no mistaking an alpha’s cock. There just isn’t. It’s veritably huge and hard and how many years has it been since he’s had an alpha inside him, since he’s been knotted—

The scents around them change, thick with arousal. It takes him that long to realize that Peter’s heightened emotional sensitivity might have a biological cause.

He is going into a rut.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter slurs, hips shifting. “You smell sooo good.”

It takes herculean effort to separate their bodies. The sheer heat and pheromones that Peter is throwing off are tangible even when he’s resolutely breathing through his mouth. He must be a sight: eyes wild and terrified, cock stiff, sprinting bow-legged to the bathroom so that he could get just a moment—just a moment to calm himself down and use his brain.

It’s going…about as well as can be expected, Tony thinks, desperately fisting his cock in the bathtub. If he could just rub one out, maybe it will bleed some of the fire from his veins. There is a gentle knocking at the door and Peter’s muffled voice, but Tony can barely hear it. He’s so close, building up to an orgasm so quickly that it should be shameful, but at least there is no one here to see. Wrist pressed to his nose, he inhales Peter’s scent like a man coming up from water, desperate for air. His balls are drawn up tight, stomach twisted into knots—and still he doesn’t cum.

“Mr. Stark, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Peter’s voice is raised, worried. Tony realizes that he has been whimpering, surely loud enough for the genetically enhanced boy to hear.

The pain inside him rises up but never crests, just rests there, aching in his gut. Cramping. Curiously, he reaches down past the petite testicles, down—

He’s wet. Soaked. The touch of his finger nearly brings him to ecstasy. This is what he needs, something inside of him, filling that emptiness that is so acute it aches. One finger isn’t enough. His hole is already loose, taking two easily.

The door breaks down. I’m in heat, Tony thinks numbly listening to wood splinter and hinges break. Maybe there was a slow build up that he missed, but it burned away in an instant in the face of this alpha. That is why Peter went into rut. Because of me. He barely has time to shove his cock back into his pants. For a moment, after Peter wrenches back the shower curtain Tony feels like a woman out of the old bodice rippers his mother used to keep in her bedside drawer. The ones with helpless omegas ravished by alphas who were driven mad by their scents, alphas who couldn’t have stopped their urges even if they wanted to.

The look Peter gives him is certainly aroused enough. He is hard in his jeans, a bulge that looks impossibly huge compared to Tony’s own. Peter’s chest rises and falls so rapidly that the older man is worried for his health. Those dark eyes scan Tony from head to toe and then the boy collapses, knees striking the tiled floor, groaning. He crawls to the bathtub and rests his feverish cheeks against the lip of the tub, mouth open and panting.

“Mr. Stark.” The voice is absolutely wrecked.

It is pure restraint as a result of his years of experience that keeps him from rolling onto his hands and knees to present for this boy, this wet-behind-the-ears alpha who has barely started his second rut and probably never popped a knot in his life.

“Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good,” groans Peter.

Even burning up, cramping, shaking, Tony reaches out to pet at Peter’s head. He hopes to offer comfort, but the boy snatches his hand out of the air in a bruising grip. Then he draws it to his mouth and presses in the fingers that were just inside Tony’s sopping hole. The boy’s tongue slips between the fingers, searching every crevice for more slick, groaning even as he licks the palm tasting only heart-love-life lines. “Mr. Stark,” Peter pants, trying again for words. “Can I have you? Please. Let me have you.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps.

They come together clumsily. It takes a moment for them to realize that Tony is trying to crawl out of the tub while Peter is trying to crawl in. They end up outside of it on the tiled floor, Tony spread out underneath the young alpha. Peter sheds his shirt and there should be violins, there should be mood lighting and a spotlight because the kid is fucking built. He almost has as many abs as fingers, so lithe and strong. He reminds Tony of spider silk, thin and so strong.

“Undress,” Peter says lowly, helping Tony to sit up so that he might pull off his shirt. Yeah, Tony isn’t 18 years old with genetically enhanced muscles but he likes to think he does okay. Peter’s eyes roll, palms flat on Tony’s pecs to drag down and down, over the scarring where the arc reactor used to be, scraping at the chest hairs. It melts the omega’s brain, primal parts of him purring. His body is satisfying to his mate, even if he is older and grayer and harder than any omega has a right to be. “God, you’re so—Jesus you’re hot Mr. Stark.”

“Knot me,” Tony groans. His hips are thrusting up into the hard cradle of Peter’s pelvis. His cock is throbbing, leaking, but it is nothing compared to the emptiness inside of him. The room is small and filled with so many potent scents that he can barely keep his eyes open. All of his senses are consumed by Peter, by what he’s doing with Peter. “Come on, kid. It hurts.”

Peter goes feral at the thought. He tears at their clothes, ribbons of jean and cotton, tennis shoes nudged off of feet. When he is naked as the day he was born, the fever in Tony seems to reach its boiling point. The kid is sculpted; it’s indecent. If there was any doubt he was meant to be an alpha, his cock disputes it. Tony, who has had plenty of fulfilling sexual experiences with people of all genders and designations, is still intimidated. Aroused. Anxious. He knows that his biology has prepared him for this. His body is made to take cocks of that size, but what if it doesn’t? What if he displeases this alpha, displeases Peter?

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, thumb pressing into that tender part of his neck that has his legs jolting. “Easy,” Peter says, and Tony’s entire body relaxes. That voice drains all the fear and anxiety out of him, Novocain for the soul. Why was he worrying? His head is pleasantly fuzzy like with the buzz of a few strong drinks. Underneath it all is the ache in his cock, the emptiness inside him, but he does not beg. Does not squirm. Because unbearably tender, Peter assures: “I’ll take care of you.”

The tiles under his palms and knees are cold on his feverish skin when he turns over. He lets his back bow to appease the ache inside him until he is presenting fully, cheek pressed against the floor. The sounds Peter makes behind him are wrecked as he folds himself over the omega beneath him, mouth hotly over the skin at the nape of his neck. It makes all the hairs on his body stand on edge—god the only thing better than mating with alpha is bonding with this alpha, bite, bite, please—

“Can’t,” Peter groans. “Can’t bite you. You don’t mean that.”

Tony bucks the boy off until Peter is sitting back on his haunches, cock obscene between his legs, looking more like a confused pup than an assertive alpha. Tony bares his teeth even in the face of his instincts which recoil just at the idea. “I thought you knew what I needed,” he goads.

Peter’s eyes harden. Maybe this polite young man defers to him on most things, but not this thing. He fists a hand in Tony’s hair and wrenches him up until their naked bodies are plastered together from knee to neck. Teeth brush his neck again and it’s like touching a live wire. If he’d jerked any harder, he might have broken skin. As it is, Peter just holds him there, bite firm and bordering on painful until all the fight goes out of him. The boy guides him back down, body lax like all the bones are gone. One hand drifts up and back to run over where the alpha’s teeth were, desperate to feel the indentations.

“Didn’t break skin,” Peter promises, like Tony doesn’t already know. No broken skin, but close. Close enough to have him pliant and purring, the fever in his skin giving him the briefest respite. Then Peter’s fingers dance downward to where the omega is wet and hot and so empty it hurts. Just the brush of fingertips, the promise of pleasure, has Tony groaning into the tiled floor.

Gently, Peter presses in. Attuned to the alpha’s senses, he hears the younger man’s breath catch, turn high and breathy. A second finger joins the first and yes, that’s better, so much better than the gaping emptiness. By the third finger, Tony feels like he could cum from this alone, even if Peter has done nothing but skim his fingers over that spot inside him that’s so good it aches.

Peter hushes him, a hand planted over that fading mark on the back of Tony’s neck. His other hand grips his cock, notching the head where Tony needs it most. The omega takes the first half before he feels full, sated even, but then there is more. Peter makes the rawest noises, and Tony laments not facing him, not being able to see his expression. He can imagine it: the eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, head back. But then there is more cock inside him than he thought was possible, and it burns everything else from his mind. The only thing that exists is that cock, anchoring him to this reality. He can feel the flared base of the alpha’s cock already puffing, desperate to knot.

Content that his cock isn’t going to split Tony in half—though it certainly feels like it from the other side of things—Peter sets a brutal pace. The finesse his fingers might have lacked is overshadowed by his cock which probably couldn’t miss Tony’s prostate if it tried. All he can do is take it, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on the slick floor, body singing, prepared to burn out at any moment.

“To-ny,” whines Peter, drawing the word out obscenely. The next word is softer, said through teeth: “Omega.”

“Alpha,” Tony gasps. “Harder—more. Come on. Need it, need your knot—”

“Then take it,” Peter cries. “Take it! God, you feel so good, you’re perfect, perfect—”

Tony cums, cock spurting onto the tiled floor. Every muscles clenches, cramping, spasming as his orgasm goes on and on, spurred on by Peter’s cock. Tony can’t even take it enough breath to scream, just gapes, cheek pressed to the cool floor. He can feel Peter’s own end coming, the knot growing, the sounds he makes becoming louder and less inhibited.

When Peter finally cums, he howls, crying out the way a man might if he’d just been stabbed only he’s the one stabbing Tony, stabbing him with his cock, forcing the knot past the rim and Tony doesn’t know if he can take it, there is brief pain cresting and then—it’s like it all goes white. His first orgasm was nothing compared to this. This would be painful, if it weren’t so good, if it weren’t exactly what he needed. It’s so much deeper than when he cums from his cock; in a way that feels so external. But this is inside him, deep in his womb, his entire body and being rejoicing at the alpha inside him loading him with sperm. Every spasm of his body is matched a heartbeat later by the cock inside him.

The come-down is slow. Having lost his strength ages ago, Tony is prostrate on the floor, knees and back aching. Above him is a firm, warm weight. The breaths are too ragged for Peter to be sleeping. Still, there is no speaking. Not until the knot inside him deflates and Peter draws back, cum and slick slipping out from inside of Tony.

When he manages to get up on his hands an knees, reaching out to use the sink to brace himself to stand (trying hard not to slip in all the bodily fluids), he sees that Peter is sitting back on his haunches, face buried in his hands, shaking with tears.

Tony nearly flinches at the sight. His heart pounds—alpha, hurting.

“Peter? Pete? God, what is it? Are you—”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter wails.

“Wh—what the hell are you sorry for?”

Peter can’t even answer, he’s so distraught. Tony isn’t good at this. It’s safe to say that most emotional situations have him withdrawing, and hastily. But this is Peter: the young man he’s had a soft spot for even years before the attraction arrived. So instead he lowers himself back down and sits next to the boy, drawing him in. Peter buries his face in Tony’s neck, scenting and scenting. It isn’t hard to exude comfort and warmth, not when he has the young alpha in his arms. Peter’s tears slow and then stop.

Heart in his throat, Tony asks: “What that—not good for you, kid?”

When Peter pulls away, his face is twisted with confusion. “What are you talking about? That—it was—God, Mr. Stark. I’m going to be thinking about that for the rest of my life, probably.”

The omega inside him purrs. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

Peter sighs, wiping at his face. “That’s just so not how I wanted it to happen. When you’re, when you’re in heat you can’t technically consent. You ran from me and I literally—oh shoot, Mr. Stark, I broke down your door.”

“About that—it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

“I’m not being paid, I’m an intern—"

“You—what? You’re not being paid? That doesn’t sound—”

“Can we, like, talk about my pay later?”

Tony’s mouth clicks shut. He nods.

“I just,” Peter sighs, relaxed with his head in the crook of Tony’s neck. They’re both naked, sweat cooling rapidly, but their bodies pressed together are more than enough to keep them warm. “All that effort I put in trying to attract you, trying to treat you right, like an alpha is supposed to treat an omega—then I went and broke your door.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. “I should have known you’re too smart not to know what you’ve been doing. Scenting me like I’m going out of style.”

“You’ll never go out of style Mr. Stark,” Peter assures. “I thought I was being subtle. It never seemed to work. Then I got worried that maybe you just weren’t interested. But I can smell you.”

“I’m interested,” Tony says into the younger man’s hair. “Trust me. Interested is putting it lightly. Not to mention, I’m a pretty creative guy. I could have probably stopped you if I wasn’t interested.”

“Even if you could, it’s not right for me to, to just—consent is important!”

“You’re goddamn right it is,” Tony says. He draws Peter’s chin up so they can meet eyes, and even bloodshot and wet, Peter’s are still warm and sincere and painfully adorable. “So, while I’m of sane mind and in between waves, let’s just go ahead and say I’m giving you consent. Enthusiastically. Deal?”

It’s Peter’s turn to melt and then purr, a low growling in his chest, looking like the spider who caught the fly, only more charming and with far less legs thank god. He mouths at Tony’s neck, kissing the gland there to make him shiver, and when he speaks Tony can feel the brush of his lips moving against his skin: “Deal.”

#starker #abo #Omega!Tony #Alpha!Peter

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biestcallisto · 4 years

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Nobody here is saying that you shouldnt vote or fuck voting, but dont come here and act as if youre an expert on the subject when you yourself admitted you dont know enough about american politics, yet you choose and feel comfortable enough to give your 2 cents on that matter and to police others on how to organize in america, while being completely isolated from these issues all the way in germany. 3/

This is going to be the only one of your messages I am going to answer. Because in others you simply misquote me or are so agitated that you misunderstand me. Yes, people do say “dont vote” or “Fuck voting”. That is the entire point I disagree with. I did not say “Rioting doesn’t solve anything”. Let me make it more clear. Rioting is a fist. In order for the fist to be effective you also need a voice. Protesters are a voice. In order to be heard, you need an ear. Elected representatives are an ear. That’s why one should always ALSO use their other voice. The voice in the ballot box. At best: GET ELECTED. That’s even better, especially if there is no reasonable ear on the ballot box. I am not undervaluing protests or riots. If you ask nicely without showing you have a capable fist, no motherfucker in charge is going to listen. Those are important and should be kept up. Also important: Information. There is a great article about policing on medium called Confessions of a former Bastard Cop. Educating oneself and others is just as important as a protest. The protest doesn’t change anyone's mind if “anyone” isn’t provided with information about WHY you protest and what solutions you propose to solve the problem. A protest is saying “THIS is a problem”. That is important. Also important is finding a solution for the problem AND sharing the information about the solution so that others stand with you to solve the problem.

In short: Not only are there multiple ways to approach a large systemic problem. The people need to walk ALL the multiple ways.

*Multiple paths need to be walked in order to achieve progress.*

Multiple- like protests, riots, education (aka sharing information) and also voting.

You need the elected people to change legislation and laws. You also need people to protest, to say “this is a problem”. You also need people who provide solutions. You need people who share the solutions so that they’re widely known. And in some communities you need to burn down a police station. I never said “oh don’t burn down a police station”. YOU know YOUR community better than any outsider. I wouldn’t burn down MY police station, because in my country police (although ALSO with racism and brutality problems, US ain’t that special, we are not free and totally separated from your problems. It’s just less bad) is vastly different from the police in the US. But if my police would start killing people every year without consequence I would reconsider my stance about MY police station. I won’t tell YOU what to do with yours. Because YOU know YOUR police in YOUR community. With community I mean your neighbourhood, not your whole country (though it seems more problematic the bigger the city is)

The problem with American elections is imho that yall are so focused on the presidential election. That’s just one guy in a whole system though. You should vote for your senators, governors, mayors and fucking school board. You should always always always vote. As long as you’re able. I get it might be hard depending on your socio-economic status and I wouldn’t judge you if you’re poor and going to an election would mean losing a paycheck. That’s pretty shitty of America but not the fault of an individual. (I wouldn’t judge anyone for not voting. I just think it’s a mistake to NOT use this tool) Let’s take a look at Obama. Oh wow, a black president, racism solved. Meanwhile he was a shitty president who either couldn’t do good things because congress and senators or whatev was Republican dominated. These Republicans could stop everything and simply because he was black, they stopped as many good things as they could. On the same time he WAS passing bad legislations as well. These the Republicans let happen. If back then all of you would have voted a different congress in, with progressives in like AOC or Ilhan Omar (sorry if that name is wrong) and less Reps, Obama might have done more good things and less bad things. I remember yall used to have a term for presidents with their hands tied because of congress: lame duck. Why was Trump able to do so many shitty things? Because congress and whatev is still dominated by the Reps. Please, keep putting the pressure on. But *also*: VOTE. And btw, if you don’t like the two party system? Build the Third party via ALL minor elections. Put the Third party in mayor offices and then you have a chance to break the two party system. ONLY then. Not by only voting for a president. Vote always WHILE protesting and sharing information.

And fucking abolish ICE too.

PS: A large problem is only solved with multiple diverse tools. One tool is a protest. One tool is a riot. One tool is burning down a police station. One tool is sharing education. One tool is elections. Do not throw any of these tools away just because you think another tool is more effective. Yes, protests ARE effective. But yall.... Americans are always acting as if the people in elected positions are different from yall. They’re not. They are supposed to REPRESENT YALL. They often don’t and they themselves think they’re different and better than yall cause they got money. There are initiatives to get money out of politics. I’m sure there are also initiatives to make lobbyism for transparent or even stop it. For fucks sake, abolish and defund police and ICE. But also get money out of politics and fucking vote whenever you’re allowed.

They made LAWS to forbid people from voting. You get in prison and are not allowed to vote anymore. You get out of prison and still are not allowed to vote and most of these are BLACK people or other people of color. Why? Because they want YOU to NOT vote. Imho it should be your moral duty to vote for anyone who isn’t allowed anymore. They hate minorities voting. That’s why they target black people and poor people.

So there’s the system basically stopping as many black and poor people from voting as it can. And then there’s you ALSO telling black and poor people to not vote. Great.

If you can, DO BOTH. Protest and vote. Riot and vote. Educate and vote.

#long post #Do what you can #including to vote

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