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css1992 · 3 years

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Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost three months into his new life, Peter was finally able to establish a routine that worked for him. He woke up around nine in the morning, tried to get some sort of exercise done, usually yoga or a jog around the block, then he had breakfast by himself, because both Ned and MJ had class or work before he was even up. After that, he made sure to post something on Just4fans, so people could see it throughout the day, and answered private messages and comments from the night before. Lastly, he headed to his newly created Twitter account to promote the new content and to interact with people there as well – it was a great way to get new subscribers.

That usually took up most of his morning, then he went downstairs to Ned and MJ’s apartment for lunch. He usually ate with at least one of them, except for Mondays and Wednesdays, when neither was home, but even then he ate at their place since he didn’t own any kitchen appliances yet – it was on the priority list, but not that high up, he liked having an excuse to visit his friends every day.

Later, he headed back upstairs and, depending on the day, he would take new pictures and videos or edit the ones he took the day before. Finally, at night, he posted more content on his Just4fans and chatted with his subscribers until it was time for bed.

In the last week of April, on one of his morning jogs, he noticed that just a few blocks away from his building there was a charity called the Bright Future Foundation. He thought the name sounded familiar, but try as he may, he couldn’t remember where he had heard of them. It was only after running past it a few times that it clicked – Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, told Peter to look it up.

The Bright Future Foundation helped kids who aged out of foster care get their lives together. They offered support in the form of scholarships and grants, academic and personal mentoring, and help with internships and employment readiness skills. That was what their website said, as Peter vaguely remembered from his high school years, when he still planned on going to college.

He went inside one day, not really sure why, and when the front desk lady asked how she could help him he just stood there for a few minutes, silent and nervous. She asked if he wanted to learn about their programs, but he shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman waited patiently, a motherly smile on her face, until Peter asked if they needed any help.

And that was how volunteering at BFF became a part of his new routine – every Thursday from nine to five, starting in the first week of May. Since it was just a few blocks away from his place, he could walk there instead of taking the subway.

He liked his new routine, it was tiring but it didn’t leave a lot of time for overthinking or ruminating on the past. He never felt lonely because Ned and MJ were always around and he actually made a few friends among his subscribers, which was nice.

For the first time in a while, Peter was feeling happy. And it wasn’t an elaborate, fragile sort of happiness, where things needed to be in perfect place for the feeling to be felt, no. It was the simplest kind of happiness: he had friends, a job, a place to crash and everything was fine. Nothing was perfect, but it was fine.

A few days after he sent Tony the lingerie pictures, he decided to send him the video. He was a little insecure about it, it was 13 minutes long after editing and Peter had really lost it for a minute there, one could clearly tell. He was gone for most of the video, a moaning mess, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, begging for something – someone – that wasn’t even there. It either looked ridiculous or fucking hot depending on the person watching, and even though he was pretty sure Tony would not think it was ridiculous, he still worried just a little, but he sent it anyway. It was still early in the day when he did, some time around noon, and he didn’t expect him to answer any time soon, so went on with his day.

Tony messaged him around 2AM, as usual, but there was no text, just three videos in the chat. In the first one, it looked like he was wearing a suit, he could see the dress pants pulled down and the white shirt pulled up as Tony jacked off for thirty seconds before he came all over his hand. It looked like he was in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, and Peter bit his lower lip, wondering if he was at work when the video was taken.

The second video was similar to the first, but it looked like he was in a garage or something like that – probably the workshop he always talked about –, Peter could see a black shirt bunched up around his waist and sweatpants around his thighs.

Last but not least there was a video of him completely naked, lying in bed, and the video was shot from Tony’s point of view, like he was holding his cell phone close to his face, looking down, instead of propping it up in front of him like he usually did.

They were all incredible and delicious and got Peter rock hard in a second. The boy got comfortable on the bed, lay on his back, took off his pajama bottoms and sighed when his cock sprung free, shivering a little when the chilly night air touched his heated skin. He planted his feet on the mattress and spread his legs, but didn’t do more than that yet.

“That good?” He messaged Tony, cheekily, and the older man started typing right away.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life and I’m 48, so yeah. That good.”

Hm, forty-eight. So Peter wasn’t wrong in his assumption. He bit his lower lip, a rush of excitement running through his veins. Tony was so much older, almost thirty years his senior. Peter supposed he must be really experienced. He wondered if he usually hooked up with younger men or if in real life he only dated women – it wouldn’t be a shock – but most of all, he wondered what he looked like. Maybe he dyed his hair, but if he didn’t, it was probably mostly gray and fuck Peter if he didn’t have a thing for that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You broke me. I was in the middle of a meeting when you sent that video, I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to watch it. What have you done to me, witch?” Peter wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in the back of his throat with a moan when he slid a hand to his lower abdomen and his cock stood to attention.

“I don’t know about that, but your videos sure got me horny as fuck.” He rolled his hips a little, humping the air, and finally gave in to himself, holding his cock in one hand and the cellphone in the other.

“Is that so?” He could almost hear his voice through the phone – soft, but powerful. He always imagined Tony would sound like that if they ever talked face to face.

“Yes, daddy” And that would always be his default answer to anything he might ask with that voice. He closed his eyes for a second, quickening the pace of his strokes just a little, when his phone beeped again.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, daddy” Peter shivered, imagining Tony’s reaction to that revelation.

“Can I hear you, baby boy?”

He didn’t even hesitate, he started recording a voice message and moaned into the phone, thrusting his hips against his fist as he quietly begged for Tony’s cock, his fingers, his mouth, anything, he just wanted the man to be there taking care of him, making him cum, that was all he wanted, and he wanted it so badly.

He came in just a few seconds and hit send on the voice message before he could overthink it. As he lay there, breathless, staring at the ceiling and trying to gather his strength, he fantasized about Tony listening to it. He smiled to himself, like an idiot, then his cellphone beeped, bringing him back to reality.

“You’re gonna drive me mad, you know that? I’m actually going insane and it’s all your fault. Also, my dick is gonna fall off and that’s on you, too.” Peter had the presence of mind to laugh at the message, but it took him a few seconds to gather enough energy to write back to him.

“That’s a serious accusation, Tony, I’m gonna need all the evidence I can get, so every time you touch yourself thinking of me, make sure to send me proof, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Again, Peter could only laugh, because judging by the amount of videos Tony sent him that day, he really was in for a treat.

Days later, on Friday, Peter got up early to go for his usual jog around the block. He was a little tired from the day before, still adjusting to his new routine at BFF – it was his third week there and they were starting to realize that Peter was a quick learner and very eager to help, so they took advantage of that, which was fine with him, he was thrilled to be able to help somehow.

So after a quick, half-assed jog around the block, he went back home, showered and decided to take the rest of the pictures Tony asked for. The man was still going nuts over the video, he wouldn’t stop talking about it and every day there was a video of him finishing himself off in their chat and Peter could hear his own voice in the background, screaming Tony’s name.

It was both embarrassing as fuck and hot as hell, so the younger man also spent a lot of those last few days in the shower trying to cool down, but Tony was not making it easier.

As much fun as that was, he was curious to see how Tony would react to the new pictures. He realized that would be the first time the older man would see him with clothes on, which sounded ridiculous, but it was true. He didn’t have many pictures on Instagram, but most of them were selfies and there were just a few where it was possible to see maybe a hint of a shirt, but that was it.

So he took the outfit he and MJ picked out and winced, remembering how much it cost, but at least he picked out clothes he might wear some day – if he had a meeting with the queen of England, for example. He put on the light gray suit by Hugo Boss, with a pink shirt with big, white dots by Levi’s Vintage underneath, black dress shoes by Brunello Cucinelli and a Gucci watch he was able to find on sale for half the original price. The whole outfit was worth around five thousand dollars, and was definitely the most money he had ever spent on – well, anything.

He checked himself in the mirror and snorted a little, he sure looked like a spoiled brat, which was probably what Tony meant by “expensive and beautiful”, so that was fine. He styled his hair so it looked effortlessly tousled, but not too much, and set his camera to take the pictures by the living room window.

He took a few pictures on the windowsill, some other leaning against the glass with his hands in his pockets, a few others looking out the window. He posed on his armchair, too, which was the only piece of furniture he had in his living room at the moment and he wished he had a decent dining table so he could pose like he was on a date with the camera, but he supposed those would do.

Once he was satisfied with what he got, he took off the clothes, put them away and went downstairs to have lunch with Ned and MJ. For the first time since he moved in with them, they both had Friday afternoon off, so they spent it together, eating junk food, watching bad TV series and playing really old tabletop games Ned had brought with him when he moved from his parents’ house.

In between a game of Monopoly and Scrabble, Peter pulled his phone out to check his messages, and was surprised to find one from Tony, sent just a few minutes earlier. He checked the time and noticed he must still be at work, so he opened it, assuming it couldn’t be anything too sexual.

“Hey, are you feeling better today? Just checking in.”

Peter frowned for a second, but a quick look at their earlier messages reminded him that he was feeling a little under the weather the day before and he’d told Tony that before he went to bed.

“Hi, Tony! I’m all better now, thanks for asking. I guess it was just allergies or something.”

He didn’t expect Tony to answer right away, but as soon as his message was sent, he started typing.

“That’s good to hear, but you need to be a little more careful with your health, kitten. Just yesterday you said you had an apple for lunch. At 4PM.”

“You’re one to talk.” Peter snorted. They always berated each other for poor eating habits. Peter was a 20 year-old bachelor living by himself and sharing meals with his equally young and dumb friends, so pizza was on the menu more often than not; Tony was a forty-eight year-old businessman with too little time to care. “Did you even eat today?”

“Don’t try to turn this around, this isn’t about me.” Peter rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“I took some pictures for you, it was quite fun.” He knew the mention of new pictures would get him interested in a minute.

“Don’t play with my heart, kid. When can I see them?”

“I don’t know...” He teased just a little, because he knew Tony wasn’t above begging and it was fun to watch.

“Don’t be mean to daddy, come on. He’s always so good to you.” Peter smiled, because, yeah. He was.

“I’ll send them tonight, I promise.” He decided, since they would have more time to talk then, if he sent the pictures earlier, Tony would still be at work and Peter would still be at his friends’.

“Good boy.”

“You know I am.”

“What are you smiling about? Who are you talking to?” Ned looked suspiciously at him, so he quickly put the phone down and shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Just a subscriber with a bad one-liner.”

MJ looked at him like she knew a secret, but Ned just shrugged and finished setting up the game. They ended up calling it a draw and ordering pizza afterwards, but Peter went back home early because both Ned and MJ had work the next morning.

Once he got upstairs, he went to edit Tony’s pictures and since it was still a little early to send them, he decided to check his twitter DMs. He didn’t read them very often, he already had his plate full with JustForFans, but every once in a while he checked them and answered as many as he could. Most of the messages were dick pics anyway, he just ignored those. Some others were people being nosy and asking way too personal questions, or worse, asking about Beck. He learned how to talk his way around those, but one message in particular stood out and really got to him.

“I’m so glad you’re doing okay, honey! The way Beck is with his new boy now makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. He sure moved on quickly. You’re better off without him anyway, I always liked you better.”

That sort of comment wasn’t exactly unusual, but that second part caught him a little off guard. Makes me wonder if he ever even loved you. It just – why would she say that? The way Beck is with his new boy. What way, exactly? What could he possibly be doing that made that person assume Beck never even loved him? People thought they were perfect together, they said it all the time, so much so that Peter himself was almost convinced of it for most of their relationship, so why in the hell would anyone think he loved this other guy more? To the point of assuming he didn’t even love Peter in the first place?

He was a masochist, he decided, as he opened Instagram. And not even the good kind of masochist, because there wasn’t any pleasure involved in what he was about to do, just pain. He unblocked Beck’s profiled and fucking looked. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but just looking at the first picture was enough to make him realize it was a terrible fucking idea. It was a black and white picture of him and the new guy cuddling in bed, kissing with soft smiles on their faces, captioned: “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Peter closed the app quickly, he didn’t need to see that. It meant nothing.

That picture meant nothing. That caption meant nothing. Because Beck was a fucking liar, a fucking actor, a fucking illusionist, a fucking – artist. He painted beautiful pictures, he weaved beautiful words, but none of that meant anything. Because it never meant anything when it was Peter in his arms, so why would–

Fuck, he should be over him, so fucking over him. But he really wasn’t, he would go back to that toxic environment if Beck snapped his fingers and that was scary to know. It was fucking terrifying to realize he was one text away from crawling back to him, even after all the humiliation, even after Beck just fucking up and left him with nothing – nothing – he would still go right back to his arms. He still wanted to go right back to his arms.

It made him feel pathetic and weak because he knew that what they had was toxic and abusive. And he had known that for a while, way before they split up. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a nightmare, day after day, over and over again, but he couldn’t fucking leave. He thought Beck was all he had. He promised him forever. He promised he would always be there for him. He was all Peter had in life, and he had lost so fucking much over the years, he couldn’t afford to lose anybody else.

But he did, didn’t he? He lost Beck. He was in someone else’s arms right that second, professing his undying, fake love.

Peter took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.

He didn’t lose anything, he was set free. He was free and he had a record to break – it had been three days since he last cried about that asshole and he didn’t plan to ruin it.

He closed Instagram and went to his Just4Fans. He posted a few pictures from a phoshoot he did earlier that week that made him feel sexy and confident, which was the opposite of how he felt at that moment, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

In a few minutes, he got lots of comments and private messages with compliments, but somehow none of them was enough to fill the empty spot Beck left when he dumped him.

Well, none except for one.

“Were you planning on giving an old man a heart attack today? ‘Cause that’s how you give an old man a heart attack.” The silly message got a smile out of him, and that was a lot considering how broken he felt.

“Lol. It wasn’t in my plans, no, but now I’m worried. Is the old man okay?” He joked, and immediately got an answer in his inbox.

“He’s waiting for you to keep your promise. Says he refuses to die before he sees some pictures of you? Do you happen to know anything about that?” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I think I know what he’s talking about. Hold on a sec.”

He selected his ten favorite pictures with the date outfit and sent them to Tony, feeling butterflies in his stomach for reasons he couldn’t explain. He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at his phone, waiting for an answer, but the older man didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see he was still online. He started to get a little anxious, worried that he had messed up somehow, so he messaged him again.

“Well? Have I finally rendered the old man speechless?”

Almost at the same time as he sent his message, Tony replied:

“I need to see you.”

Peter’s heart almost jumped out of his mouth when he read those words, eyes widening in shock. I need to see you. He read it a few more times to make sure it meant what he thought it meant. It couldn’t possibly – Tony wouldn’t want to meet him. That would be absurd. He was – well, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sounded important most of the time, he was definitely very rich, very hardworking and he seemed like a really nice guy. So really, why would he want to meet Peter. That made absolutely no sense, obviously he meant something different than that, he just didn’t quite know what–

“Please,” said the next message, just a few seconds later.

Peter bit his lower lip, feeling his face grow warmer. Just for the hell of it, he thought – what if Tony did mean he wanted to meet him? What then? Peter couldn’t say yes, that would be insane. He didn’t even know the man, all he knew were little things about his daily life, he didn’t know his last name, if he had a family, if he was married, if he was a psychopath – he didn’t even know what he looked like!

Still, he fantasized about saying yes. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn’t do it, that would be crazy.

Right?

“You won’t regret it, I’ll treat you right.”

Well, fuck. He had to go straight for his Achilles’s heel, huh.

Peter kept staring at the bright screen of his phone, breathing slowly to try to contain his wild heart that seemed adamant to burst out of his chest cavity in the next few minutes. He didn’t know what to say. No, his brain supplied, like it was obvious, because it was, right? He couldn’t say yes, yes was not a viable answer. He had to say no, it was only a matter of how he would say it without hurting the older man’s ego.

But.

Why exactly did he have to say no? He knew there were ate least 99 good answers to that question, but he couldn’t think of one, so–

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Peter asked, even though he wasn’t really worried about that, it was the last thing on his mind, to be honest.

“You’ll know.” He said, plain and simple, and not helpful at all. And still, no flight response whatsoever from Peter’s brain. His stupid mind couldn’t seem to understand that that was clearly a terrible idea.“We’ll meet in a restaurant, the best in New York, and nothing else has to happen, I promise. We’ll have a nice dinner and that’s it. I just need to see you in person.”

That sounded reasonable, didn’t it? A public place, lots of eyes on them. If Tony turned out to be a creep, he could just leave. At the very worst, he’d be disappointed and lose a very generous subscriber; at the very best, he’d get a good meal out of it and who knew what else. It sounded reasonable. So it was probably reasonable.

Right?

“Can I wear this outfit?” He asked, because, well, that was all he had to wear to New York City’s best restaurant – whatever that was.

“You must, baby.” He answered quickly, and Peter smiled to himself. “So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

He typed a quick yes, but didn’t send it right away. He gave his brain a few seconds to come up with reasons to say no, because he knew there were good reasons for that, but he really, honestly, just wanted to say–

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” He replied right away, as if he had been staring at the phone, waiting for his answer. “I’ll set a time and place and let you know. You won’t regret it, Peter.”

Peter loved all the pet names Tony gave him, they were all sweet and funny, but when he called him by his actual name, it just hit different. It felt good. Like he wasn’t just a pretty picture in a porn app, an expensive hobby, but a person. It was hard for him to remember that, sometimes.

Some other times, it felt good to forget.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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saturnsummer · 3 years

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i don't mind forever.

AU: When Sol is handed a case, she doesn't realise how big the case gets. Luckily for her, her best friend is here. (AU of lawyers at Hankuk Law Firm.)

notes: all credits go to @thenerdywriter !! she gave me this prompt just days after i joined tumblr, and i’ve been working on and off on it ever since. my first au series, so please go easy on me! i know i’m practically killing myself for doing two series at once, but i’ll deal with it later. as always, big love to everyone! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4035 words

one.

Sol scrunches her hair in frustration. She twists her long, wavy light brown hair in a bun, fixing it with a jab of her white, long chopstick hairpin. She adjusts her bangs for good measure and resumes with her report. She reaches over to her coffee mug, only to find it empty. Great, it’s the third coffee she had today, and it wasn’t even lunch. Hearing her colleagues nagging on drinking too much coffee in her head, she stands from her desk and pushes the glass door of her office to the staff pantry. Her heels click against the marble floors as she strides across, filling her cup with iced water before retreating back.

It would have been a normal day at the Hankuk Law firm, but it wasn’t when she had such a pressing case.

It's been weeks. A client of hers has pressed charges against Lee Man Ho, claiming that he scammed her life savings. Lee Manho was a convict that was charged for raping multiple women and on several occasions, sexual harassment. He had been on good behaviour after his release for a couple of years, with no complaints and no news. Only now did his name resurface. He was snarky in his speech, manipulative and quick with his tongue, but most of all had a sinister smile that sent shivers.

Sol, being Sol, couldn’t say no to the poor woman. How could she? She experienced her fair share of poverty from growing up in a single-parent family that made enough to get by. She sympathised with her feelings, knowing just how stressed this poor mother must be when she can no longer afford to pay rent for her home, even less so the necessities for her toddler kids. Because, too many times, Sol was found broke and skipping meals so she could have her younger sister, Byeol, be fed instead.

With the help of the local police, she found more victims to be scammed, all similar in their scenario. Manho would call under the alias of a financial aid consultant, sometimes an insurance agent or bank teller. Then, he would extract their bank numbers from them, effectively draining their money away. By the time they victims tried to call back, the number would be out of order, or picked up by another voice, evident that he used another number to cover up his.

None of his victims had anything in common. Some were rich, some were poor. Some were female, some were male. And Manho had long disappeared in the wind the moment he got out of jail. He was said to be sighted once and when the police placed eyes on him, they lost him that same day.

His digital footprint was an utter headache as well. The police had other things to matter, and figuring out his digital footprint was the least of their concerns when they had important murders and urgent matters to solve.

But two could play this game.

Seungjae was a good friend of Sol’s. They were close acquaintances in school and kept in close contact. He, unlike Sol, was a whiz with computer codes and had his fair share of hacking experience. She remembers how he would hack into the system during school events and broadcast short music videos on the school televisions during breaks. Despite their age gap, he was always courteous, nice and kind hearted in helping others.

Seungjae eventually found a job with the police force, using his skills to legally hack criminal networks and dark nets. He was essentially part of a task force that identified suspicious activities like mass radicalisation, fake news and essentially tracking down internet hackers. It was a no-brainer that Sol would approach him, even though she knew that he could only legally hack under his work orders, not for personal favours.

Well it’s best she at least try.

She called Seungjae, who was fortunately free, and agreed to meet at a cafe. The sun was out, warming them from the autumn breeze that chilled them. Sol grabbed her coat and placed a post-it on her door, informing her colleagues of her business. Sol, while dressed in a warm coat, was undoubtedly freezing from the breeze. If only she could go back to law school, where she wore jeans and sweatshirts all day. Instead, she had a light blue long sleeved blouse, a knee length pencil skirt and a midnight blue blazer, and her only coat she had weakly shielding her from the cold.

“Sol A, what gives me the feeling that you aren’t calling for the purpose of catching up, but for a favour?” Seungjae asks as soon as his ice coffee arrives. Sol is amused at his habit, that he still calls her Sol A to differentiate her from Sol B, her colleague just working next door to her. But in response, she gives a small frown.

“Oppa, please? You have to help me with this. This case is driving me nuts!” She says in frustration as she stirs her ice tea. “Look, he’s off the grid, like properly off. I can’t even track his number or his email accounts. When the police placed plainclothes on him, he was like a ninja and they lost him within the first hour.”

Seungjae’s frown deepens. He knows of people who are good on the internet, but for an ex-convict to be running this alone? Furthermore, a convict who had no criminal record of scamming, conning and IT based crimes? There was definitely more to this.

“Sol A, do you think that he’s working alone?” Seungjae asks, stopping Sol in her speech. She tilts her head, the way she does normally when she puts the puzzle pieces in order. From her bag, she takes out a notebook and scribbles down the facts, then pushes it to the centre of the table.

“Okay, so we know that Lee Manho was convicted of rape and sexual harassment long time ago. Now, he’s running scams, and has no known background of coding or conning people, yet somehow the money appears in his bank account and it disappears the next moment.” Sol states as she circles her notes with a pencil and Seungjae nods.

“I think… I think you’re right, oppa. He’s definitely not working alone. And he could just be the middleman bringing the cash from one place to another.” Sol breaths out, realising how big the case has gotten. She’s not just going after Lee Manho, but she’s going after an entire team.

“You said that you can’t track his whereabouts, people he communicates with and where the money is going to?” SeungJae asks. Sol nods.

“Looks like someone is covering up the transfers and his tracks.” Seungjae concludes. Seungjae furrows his eyebrows. Sol recognises his thinking face and tries to plea once more.

“Please, oppa? You helped me check out and verify Yeseul’s boyfriend, which saved her life! Please, oppa…” Sol pleads with him. Seungjae knew how much Sol was going to dedicate to this, and besides, he was legally going to hack. He was fighting for those who couldn’t fight. What difference would it make? It felt wrong to ignore such a desperate plea.

“Fine. But you have to let me use a laptop that isn’t mine. I can’t have my superiors know I’m hacking into a case that wasn’t submitted to me again. God, Yeseul’s ex-boyfriend case got me a bloody earful from the captain.” He finally agrees, getting up from his seat and grabbing his coat. Sol lets out a relieved sigh and picks her coat too.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Save it for later, when I’m done hacking. Let’s head back to your office for now.” He says and walks to the door. At that moment, Sol’s phone rings, and she picks up, knowing who will call at this time of the day. If it’s lunch, it has to either be Yeseul or Joon Hwi.

“Are you joining us for lunch, sunbae?” Sol takes a moment to close her eyes in frustration. This man is going to drive her insane.

“Yeah. Are you all ordering?”

“That’s right. Extra pickles?”

“Always. Add one more jjampong and kkampungi, too.” The receiving end goes silent.

“Who’s joining?” Sol gives a knowing smile as she unlocks her car.

“An old friend of ours.”

-----

“Wah, it’s been a long time since Seungjae-hyung could eat with us!” BokGi says, as he passes out the chopsticks and Yebeom unpacks the meals. Seungjae only gives a small smile while helping out with the food.

Despite the cold weather, the odd group of friends found pleasure in eating outdoors as opposed to their office pantry. It was too noisy some days, too quiet on some, and knowing how chaotic the group can get during lunch, it only made sense to have their meals downstairs at some benches. Besides, they could use a break from being stuck in their offices all day and look at trees changing their colours to shades of red, oranges and brown.

“Thank your noona here, for convincing me to come.” He says as he nods his head over to Sol, who is busy unpacking her pickles and noodles. Joon Hwi gives a smile as he stares at the delight on her face when she sees those yellow pickles on a plastic saucer.

“Hyung, what are you here for?” Joon Hwi asks, as he unpacks his noodles.

“This lady here has enlisted my help once again for a case she is working on. But it has to be off the books. Thus, my presence here instead of my cubicle back at my headquarters.” Sol chokes and she quickly takes a sip of her tea.

“Oppa, why do you make me sound so law breaking…” Sol grumbles. Yeseul, sitting next to her only gives a small smile and squeezes her hand.

“Seungjae-oppa did help me bring Yeongchang to jail. So I would consider his work, whether under his boss orders or not, to be lawful.” Yeseul quips quietly. The table grows silent for a moment, knowing how this topic took a mental toll out of them, but Yeseul was hit the hardest.

When Yeseul first started dating Yeongchang, everyone didn’t mind it. Only when Sol witnessed how Yeseul would be frightened to pick up his call and spotting bruises on her arms did she get Seungjae to dig into his personal life. Lo and behold, not only was he abusive, he was seeing two other women and they were treated badly, if not, worse.

Yeseul’s heart broke, this being her first love and the man she envisioned marrying. But with her friends' support, she took it upon herself to press charges on him, for the women he tortured and for herself. Representing herself and the women that he had failed to protect and taken advantage of, it wasn’t easy for her, having been so blind in love and still harbouring feelings.

The group stood by and silently supported. They accompanied her trials, no matter how busy they were. Sol remembers Jiho running from one courtroom to another on one occasion when he had to immediately attend a court hearing for a client he was defending. Sol had Yeseul stay over at her apartment during the entire situation, while Yeseul searched for an apartment nearby after moving out of his house. Even Sol B, who was usually cold, bought her meals and stayed to eat when the girls spent late nights in silence and drinking.

Finally, the judge ruled that Yeongchang was to be charged in jail. For the sexual, mental and physical abuse of these women, including Yeseul. It has been months since then and time can only tell how much she has healed. The rest can only give their silent support and be there for her.

“I didn’t mean to make the mood bad. Come, let’s eat. Also, what is the case about, unnie?” Yeseul quickly breaks into a smile, an attempt to let everyone know she’s okay. Sol gives a brief description of her case to everyone while she slurps her noodles and pickles.

“This is going to be difficult. If you guys are right, you might be dealing with something bigger than just Lee Manho.” Sol B states and Sol gives a nodded reply.

“Please don’t tell Superior Kim or Superior Yang about this. I really need to break this case and Seungjae-oppa is my only way to.” Sol informs her group. They give half hearted murmurs, not wanting to be meddled into Sol’s affairs. Well, all but one.

“Yah, why didn’t you come find me? I have my own contacts in the police as well.” Joon Hwi asks, a slight frown on his face. From anyone else looking, it would have been easy to miss. But for Sol, she knew that he was upset, interpreting his complaints as “Why didn’t you come and tell me about this first?”

“Because, Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam Pass, you have been too busy! Do I really need to remind you to eat every damm moment? You drive me crazy some days!” Sol argues. They launch into a light hearted argument, as the rest of the lunch group watches with equal fervour as they eat their meals.

“Guys, stop arguing, my ears hurt.” Jiho said, his tone in slight annoyance as he dove straight into the kkampungi and tangsuyuk. Sol finally gave up fighting, earning a teasing smirk from Joon Hwi. They continued their noisy meal, chatting and catching up with Seungjae. Seungjae gives them some updates of his pregnant wife and some interesting cases.

After their meal, they separated their trash neatly. The sun now hides away in the clouds, leaving little warmth against the chilly breeze of autumn. Sol brushes her coat and rubs her hands and arms. If only she could afford a better one than this old coat she’s been using since her first year in university.

Joon Hwi notices her trying to warm up against the cold and takes his coat from the chair, layering it on her. He honestly didn’t feel cold, but he knows he has always been the stronger one to resist against the cold. For Sol, it must be freezing.

“Take mine.” He simply says, taking the packs of plastic from Sol. If Sol had a hint of blush, he pretended to not notice.

“Oh, thanks.” She said as she took wipes from her bag and wiped down the mess on the benches and tables. “But I don’t need it. We’re heading back to the office anyway.” She shrugs his coat off and drapes it over her arm, returning it to him. He pushes it to her, and leans in closer to her.

“Help me carry it, so I don’t have to, sunbae.” He teases with a smirk, sending Sol in a fit of frustrated squeaks, chasing him as best as she can in her heels. Sol knows Joon Hwi gets a thing out of his teasing, and sends him annoyed glares as she continues to clear the tables. Jiho manages to sigh and Sol B rolls her eyes as she dumps the trash in the bins.

The group grabs their bags as they head back into the office, where Sol checks Seungjae in as a visitor at the reception. The receptionist hands him a blue lanyard with a visitor pass as Sol leads him to the elevators. Jiho and Bokgi are off to meet clients, and Sol B is headed to court for a hearing. Yeseul stops at another floor to her office with Yebeom, who needs to pick up some reports from a colleague.

Joon Hwi follows Sol to her office with Seungjae, despite his office being upstairs. Sol grabs her personal laptop from her bag, which is separate from her desktop computer and passes it to Seungjae, who takes a seat opposite her and starts programming the computer to begin hacking.

“What, did you just let him use your personal laptop?” Joon Hwi asks in concern as he takes a seat on a spare chair.

“Let him do it. Don’t you have your reports to do?” Sol asks as she turns to her own reports before typing in her findings for the new Lee Manho case. Joon Hwi doesn’t reply, and Sol sends an annoyed glance. He’s not going to leave unless he knows all the information of this case.

“Okay, I got it.” Seungjae says after a series of clicks and turns the screen to show Sol what he has found. Sol leans into a chart of bank transfers.

"From what I can tell, it seems like the money enters his bank account and is transferred to an offshore account. I can't trace where the money goes from there anymore." Seungjae explains as he uses the cursor to show them. "I can't tell who owns the account either. If I could take a guess, it's probably the mastermind of this."

"Wait, look. Lee Manho is getting paid a constant amount every single time before a large sum comes in and leaves." Joon Hwi points. Sol grabs her printed papers as she matches the amounts that her clients have given here. They match exactly to the large sums, but have no relation to the constant amount that he gets every scam.

"He's getting paid to scam? Tch, God, I hate this crook." Sol says through gritted teeth. Joon Hwi sighs and observes the anger rising in Sol. He places a hand on top of her clenched fist for comfort and her fist stops clenching as she sighs in response.

"Sol A, I can't track his location with your laptop. It's not exactly ideal, since it can be tracked back." Seungjae says, eyes darting while continuously typing. Joon Hwi could sense the disappointment in Sol's face, but it can't be helped. It was too dangerous from her location and IP address.

"Oppa, thank you for helping. I owe you one." Sol says as Seungjae scrubs her laptop clean from hacking traces. Seungjae returns her laptop and stands up. "You should go back, oppa. You've been gone too long."

"I'll keep you updated." He says as Sol guides him out of the office. Once she shuts the door, she pulls the hairpin from her hair and crunches her hair in frustration. She has the information on where the money is going, but it's no use when she can't find out where he is. Joon Hwi takes a seat opposite her.

"Don't stress." He says softly, and Sol bites her lip in frustration.

"Don't stress? How can I not? The police aren't giving me any information on him, delaying his location tracking! I can't even find him! How am I supposed to get evidence to charge him, if he can't even appear to show up to court?" Sol angrily spills, her hands flailing. Joon Hwi sighs but grabs a hold of her wrist.

"Don't get swayed by your emotions." Joon Hwi firmly says, sparingly into Sol's anger-filled eyes. She pulls her wrist back, taking a deep breath before gathering her hair up again.

"Fine." She grumbles. "Get out of my office, Prosecutor Han. Don't you have work?" This earns a soft smile from Joon Hwi. As he heads to the door, he turns back before he leaves.

"Don't... Don't do anything stupid or impulsive, you hear me?"

Sol clicks her tongue and gives a half-hearted nod. She turns back to her report and updates her findings and tries to diffuse the thought of asking Seungjae to hack with her laptop to find Man Ho's location.

For Kang Sol A, such thoughts don't leave easily.

-----

"You sure?" Seungjae asks, seated in Sol's car. Sol takes a deep breath in and nods.

It was a few days after Seungjae visited the office. Sol called the police as much as she could, but they always left her on the line or just said "we're working on it." Thus, Sol told Seungjae to meet her at a park, before driving to a random alley and passing him her laptop.

"Yeah, I'll take my chances." She replied. Seungjae sighs and begins typing away.

"You know you're putting yourself at risk?" He asks, eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'll put myself at risk for the justice of my clients." She says firmly. A few minutes pass as Sol stares out of the car and watches the bright moon and the clouds floating by in misty swirls.

"Got it." Sol turns her attention to Seungjae. On the screen is a map and a blinking red dot of Manho’s location. Sol reads the map and puts her car back in drive before turning out of the alley.

"Woah, do you know where you are going?" Seungjae asks, grabbing onto the overhead handle for support and his hand securing the laptop.

"Seungjae-oppa, don't tell anyone about this, okay? Especially not Joon Hwi." Sol ignores his question as she speeds up the car, turning into a drop-off point of a train station.

"Sol A, you're-"

"Sorry, oppa. But I need to find him. I can't sit and wait for the police anymore. I promise you, I'll be safe." Sol says. Seungjae couldn't say no. He knows how stubborn Sol is, how when she decides on something, she will commit to it wholeheartedly.

"If he's armed, you could get yourself in danger." Seungjae exasperatedly sighs. It was too big a risk to see the junior he treats as a little sister put herself at risk.

"I'll be fine. Look, you're on my speed dial. You know that I can handle myself. There's a reason why I took years of self-defence classes." Sol tells him. Seungjae nods his head unwillingly.

"You better call me after you're done." He says as he opens the door and gets out of the car. "Please, please stay safe." Sol nods and gives a small smile.

"Thank you, oppa." Sol drives away immediately, leaving Seungjae to pinch his nose bridge in frustration and concern. Silently, as he boards the train, he prays for Sol's safety.

-----

Sol knows the area well. As she parks her car at a carpark, she checks to make sure Manho is still at the bar. The blinking dot stays stagnant at the bar, not moving ever since she dropped Seungjae off. Getting out, she tightens her coat around her and thanks herself for the long trousers she's wearing. At least she isn't wearing a skirt, if she needs to beat someone up.

Entering the bar, she naturally takes a slow walk around. But hidden by the corner of the bar tables sit a lone man, with a cap, dressed in black button up and holding a glass of golden whiskey. She knew that was her target.

Taking a seat next to him, she orders a glass of soda water from the bartender. Man Ho chuckles next to her as he sets his glass down. Turning his head, he faces Sol with sly eyes, lips curled at the corner.

"Prosecutor Kang, you're quick." She hears him say and a chill goes down her spine. She lets her eyes meet the cold stare of Manho.

"Oh, you think I don't know you? You're the one after me more than the police are for the past weeks." Man Ho sinisterly says, a sick grin on his face. Sol grits her teeth and takes a deep breath to soothe her anger.

"Why are you doing this? You think it's fun?Watching my clients suffer?" Sol says through her gritted teeth. He only scoffs.

"My, my. Don't want you getting agitated now, don't we? We just started." He says, sipping from his glass again.

"Answer my question." She says with force. Man Ho sips on his glass, swirling the golden brown liquid against the large square cubes of ice as he exhales.

As the words fall from his mouth, Sol grows as cold as the glass in her hand. Her hands slightly shake as she hitches her breath. When her shaky eyes turn to Manho’s, his eyes are sly with a mocking grin. No, he can’t know.

"You’re just as feisty as your sister, aren’t you?”

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Compliment Battle ~ Lee Felix [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 1.8k

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy!!!

↬↬↬Pairing: Lee Felix X Latina!Reader

↬↬↬A/n: Hope this is okay for you love! Had a lot of fun writing for the guys as I feel like I haven’t written fluff for them in a while! I promise to write more once my requests are down!

The press was good at over exaggerating things whenever they could, it was what they did all of the time you knew and everyone else knew it too but knowing it was different when you were reading something about yourself. Another day another dumb article from one of the online magazines that everyone seemed to adore so much, always sharing it with one another despite the contents either being completely made up or turned on their head so they were no longer facts. You laid awake while Felix was asleep beside you, he'd gotten in late with Chan last night so you weren't about to wake him up and show him yet another article about your relationship. The only reason you were up so early was because of the sun peeking through the blinds in the window which Jeongin had neglected to shut - again - the night before. Through every muscle in your body, you slowly and quietly got out of the bottom bunk of the bed and walked towards the door - being careful not to trip on any of Jisung's clothes as you went, he told you the reason they were on the floor was that it kept things organised for him, you would have accepted the excuse as well if the boy didn't wear the same four shirts over and over again. You'd been staying over at the dorms while you came to visit Felix for a couple of weeks, trying not to get in the way while they trained and got things ready for STAY.

"You okay?" A voice called out as you silently shut the door behind you, your hand landed on your chest to calm your heart that was now pounding against your chest thanks to Chan who was sitting in the kitchen. He'd heard someone waking up and he knew it wasn't going to be any of the boys - not yet anyway, he placed is earbuds down onto the table and stared at you waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I was going to take a shower. You slept yet?" Stupid question. He'd probably been sitting in the kitchen working from his laptop all night - you knew all of the boys like the back of your hand since you met them when Felix did. Chan eyed you up, he could already tell there was something on your mind by the way you were avoiding his eyes and holding yourself up. Your arms were folded across your chest to block out any body language to give yourself away but in doing so it gave it away that something was wrong.

"I'll make a drink, sit down and tell me about it." You sighed you hated how well he knew people, how quickly he could decipher when something was wrong with someone but at the same time you did love him for it. It was like having a caring older brother there to watch out for you, even if you were older than him Chan would still feel like the older brother type. He flicked the kettle on while he watched you from the corner of his eye, you were sitting at the table while nervously playing with the sleeves of Felix's hoodie you'd worn to bed.

"What is it?" He questioned, he'd made you a drink then set it down in front of you while he waited for you to speak about whatever it was that was bothering you. You knew that Chan and the boys had had their fair share of press coverage both negative and positive but you didn't know how to bring it up with Chan without him running to Felix. It wasn't something you wanted to bother anyone with but it was starting to bother you to the point where you dreaded going online. The constant sprew of articles being written about you was insane, you would have thought they'd have better things to do than write about you and your relationship but apparently not.

"Have you seen the articles?" You could already tell by the dejected look on his face that he'd seen them already and you groaned laying your head down onto the cold wooden table. It was cold enough to relieve some of the tension headache you had but it wasn't enough to completely pass it away.

"It's every time I come to visit, they seem to pick up more and somehow get worse." You whispered looking up at him through your arms to see him giving you a sad smile. You had been visiting the boys a lot more than you used to since dating Felix and since your relationship was outed to everyone. Once it was out you and Felix saw no reason to hide that you were together anymore and continued life as normal together.

"They have to talk about something and unfortunately it's not always good." Your mind flashed back to all of the articles talking about you, how you didn't fit the 'Korean Beauty Standards' and that you were different to who they wanted Felix to date - as if it was down to them anyway. Felix could date whoever he wanted and you were lucky enough that he chose you - though he'd convinced you that he was the lucky one to be able to date you.

"I'm going to go and shower, thanks for the coffee," You whispered taking the mug with you as you headed for the main bathroom of the dorms, it had the largest shower which would make you feel better after the morning you'd been having.

"Hi," Felix's voice was warm as he came up behind you in the kitchen wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood at the sink washing up the breakfast plates and pans you'd used to cook for everyone.

"Hi," You whispered back to him as you felt him leave a small kiss on the back of your neck, he turned you around and you groaned as your hands were still wet from the soapy dishwater.

"Changbin already moped this morning don't make him do it again," You squealed through your sentence as he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop ignoring the protest he got from Hyunjin and Jisung who were still trying to eat their breakfast but finding it hard at the sudden display of affection.

"I'm showing my girl how much I love her-"

"Yeah, well, you have a bedroom for that." Jisung groaned shoving a bit of toast into his mouth watching as Felix took you towards the dorm room he shared with Jisung and Jeongin.

"I missed you this morning." He whispered as he laid you down the bed beneath him his arms either side of your head as he looked down at you, you sent him the warmest smile you could manage with the articles playing in the back of your head. Whenever you looked at him you could somehow feel the words all creeping into your head and clouding your vision of you and him together,

"Sorry, I wanted to do something nice since it's my last week." You knew you were lying. He knew you were lying. He could read you like a book. He collapsed down onto the bed beside you and patted his chest wanting you to cuddle into him while you spoke about what was troubling you. There was no getting out of it, once Felix knew something was bothering you he wouldn't stop until he knew what it was and could fix it for you. He was the little ball of sunshine that tried to make your day better all of the time.

You sat crossed legged in front of him though wondering how you were supposed to bring something like this up to him, he was used to articles being written about him and the boys but you weren't. You weren't used to waking up to the internet exploding about your body - the week before they'd done nothing but analyse the way your body was shaped, the way your hips would move when you walked and the way you wore your clothes. It was different to what they were used to, sure, but you assumed they'd get over it sooner or later. This week however it was about your personality, it was no secret that you were extroverted but with friends like Felix and the guys you had to be. You were all loud and rambunctious together as you all fed off of one another's energy, competing to see who was the loudest out of all of you.

"It's the articles isn't it?" He sat up and came face to face with you, you looked at him eyes dancing over his face to see his freckles you loved so much and his dark brown eyes. His blonde hair was getting long again and fell into his face, you pushed it out of the way and he sighed knowing the answer to his question already without you even saying a word to him.

"I just-"

"Come here," He pulled you to lay down next to him and you sighed, laying here in his arms seemed to melt everything away around you. Suddenly you weren't in the Stray Kids dorm you were just alone with Felix in your own little world being able to just be yourselves without having to worry about anyone else.

Felix knew that there was nothing that he could do to prevent the articles from writing about you or to stop what they were writing about but he was going to do his best to make you feel better about them whenever he could. That was the price for dating an idol when they were in the limelight so were you and if you were going to be seen together it was going to happen a lot more.

"I love it when you're loud by the way," He mumbled into your ear an hour later. You'd both fallen asleep curled up in each other's arms only to wake up with Jeongin come in from losing a video game against Chan.

"Someone can give us all a run for our money, I thought we were loud but with you, we could cheer on a whole basketball team and maybe a football team." You gently poked his side as he playfully teased you trying to cheer you up and he chuckled kissing your cheek as he drew you closer to him, your head was resting against his chest just listening to his heartbeat as you cuddled together.

"Don't even get me started on the way you move your hips - ugh so gorgeous." You groaned at him for being so gross this early in the morning, you took a pillow out from behind you and began smushing it against his face as you got up to get away from his constant compliments, he continued yelling them as you ran towards the door.

"Come back in here and let me compliment you!" He yelled as you shot out of the room into the living room where the boys all let you hide behind them so Felix couldn't get to you.

Tagline:

@snowy-meowl @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @jooniesdarlingdimples

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

— far away.

Satoru Gojo maintains a strong and silly connection with you while he's far away.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Type: Headcanons

Warnings: Swearing. Gojo Satoru is a little shit.

Shrimp Notes: Just 'cause I love him. Also, this is pretty bad. It's 2am here.

Regardless of where he was, he'd send you text messages and funny photos of his trips despite both of you in completely different time zones. Sometimes you groan in frustration when you wake up to the phone light going off and it's your lover sending you photos of a bunch of souvenirs that he bought. Idiot, as if he wasn't cluttering so much of his traveling possessions in the bedroom already, though you'd always have a smile on your face.

Whenever he'd finish a meeting or is done for the day, even if it was nighttime there and you were at work/school in the morning, he'd shoot you a call. (Sometimes, your phone rang out loud in the middle of your shift/lecture, and you'd huff at him for calling you at the most inappropriate times, but you couldn't blame him since he wouldn't have known since you were far away).

(Truth is, he kind of memorized your schedule. He can only imagine your angry and embarrassed face every time he knew you would forget to turn your ringer off sometimes).

He'd take you 'out' to dates, so while you were at home, just finishing a cup of your favorite drink in the morning after you had just woken up, he'd video call you on his phone and he's out eating sushi, steak, or some expensive food. Funnily enough, he'd order two meals, leaving one for you; although you couldn't eat it, of course, he'd still order extra food for you to fill in the empty void.

You swore he was an idiot, plenty of times, you were convinced that he had to be born an idiot whenever he'd send photos of his students acting obnoxious and the times he'd tease them to no end. This was a grown man and he was wearing his female students' clothes and then putting ice down the boys' sleeves as if he was in middle school or something. (At least his students could understand the torture you go through. Nonetheless, you loved it).

He'd fall asleep with you on the call while you watched videos or did your own thing as he babbled on about specific curses and how his day was. After you shared and talked about your day, he always went on about how he missed you and that he loved you unconditionally.

He'd send you money randomly. Your phone will ding and you'd realize that the man sent you way more than you expected for lunch. Sometimes, this led to you freaking out about how much he was spoiling you. ("Don't act like you don't love it, honey," he'd smirk on the other end of the line, and you couldn't argue back because he was damn right. You loved being spoiled by this fool.)

During your tough days, he'd send you text messages and photos of him posing next to a dead curse. However, since you couldn't see it, you basically saw nothing next to him. He knew that this made you laugh since he looked silly and stupid. Usually, at the end of his day, he'd ask for you to vent to him about what's going on and he was there to reassure you.

"I'll be home soon, baby," Satoru would always remind you that he was coming home to you no matter what and whenever you'd have moments where you missed him a lot, he'd order food to have it delivered to your shared home or have one of his friends, such as Nanami, come and take you out for some coffee to keep you company.

Megumi was the closest student you were with, though both of you never really talked much unless it was how his training was going or that Gojo-sensei was being obnoxious. Most of the time, he's texting you that he's going crazy whenever Satoru was being himself. ('Please save me', was the majority of Megumi's texts, and he'd send a video of Satoru poking his cheek).

Satoru made sure to buy you a new dress/shirt or some candies whenever he's far away. He always thought of you and wondered how you put up with a silly man like him. (You thought the same, though). However, when he looks at the messages you'd send him of you telling him that you loved him and that you were thinking of him, his heart would flutter and then remember that you were his and he was yours; though he was far and insanely stupid in his own childish ways, it was to make you and others laugh, and he kept always kept you in mind.

When Satoru finally came home, he'd greet you with a lot of affection, and all of your plans for the day would have to be paused since you missed him so greatly. The scent of his cologne, his alluring eyes, and the smile that grew on his lips every time he glanced at you; you missed it all, and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"I'm home," he'd always say. "I know I am because you are my home."

Sometimes, you don't know whether to smack, laugh, or cry at his usual comment. You still loved it though. Hell, you loved him. And you knew how much of a fool he was, but you could never let him go.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #shrimp hc

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 7

First

Five people. There were five people in this group.

So why could NONE OF THEM drive?!

Carapace hadn’t been expecting the rich kids to know to drive. Knowing them, they probably had chauffeurs who did it for them or whatever.

But Rena? Ladybug?!

He groaned and struggled to rub his eyes through his mask. It was too early for this.

It was a good thing all of them were fit, because the nearest Home Depot was ages away.

When they got there they decided it was best to just go in a group. Mostly because Chat was still only about half awake and someone (Ladybug) needed to push him around in a cart, but also because they all wanted to have some kind of input about how the board looked.

Carapace took out his phone.

The whole point of the ‘living together’ thing was so they could convince the public they were friends, he might as well get content that made them look like they actually got along.

The first part of the video was Chat, slumped over the front of the cart, face drawn in a sleepy smile, practically purring (actually WAS that purring? Carapace was pretty sure it was...). The camera then panned to Ladybug, who was casually throwing the items they chose at him in attempts to wake them up.

Yes, this included the giant board they were going to use to tack different things on.

No, that didn’t wake him up.

But, then, a few minutes later, he started filming again.

Chloe smiled for the camera. “Testing what can wake up our resident idiot. Trial One!”

She kicked the cart as hard as she could and sent it rolling into a wall.

Chat snored on.

Rena frowned. “Isn’t that more trial two? Ladybug throwing things was trial one.”

“Don’t rope me into this,” said Ladybug without looking up from the two different thumb tacks. She clicked her tongue and held them up for Carapace. “Glittery or not glittery?”

Carapace raised his eyebrows. “Uh… anyone gonna check on him?”

“I’ve watched him fall three stories and say ‘it’s fine’. Now, glittery or not glittery?”

Carapace opened his mouth, then shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. “Not glittery.”

“... I’ve decided you’re not allowed to have an opinion.”

“Then why would you --?!”

Rena held up a hand. “She’s right. You don’t get a say in this.”

“I --?!”

“Hey, Queen Bee, noise usually gets him up.”

“Genius!” Chloe snatched the glittery thumb tacks from Ladybug. “Trial three!”

She walked over to Chat and rattled the box by his ear. There was a shrieking noise and the camera barely caught a flicker of black before the entire cart tipped over and spilled it’s contents (including a very frazzled Chat Noir) onto the floor.

There was a short silence as the miraculous holders and the staff members who had been unfortunate enough to be scheduled for work that day processed what had just happened.

And then Ladybug doubled over laughing.

“Oh my kwami I’m so -- pftHAHAHA -- I’ll help clean up I… I just --” She giggled a little more and held up a finger for a moment as she tried to pull herself together. “One -- heheheh -- sec.”

The camera panned away from her to zoom in on Chat Noir’s pout for a brief second before it cut.

All the heroes helped clean up. Obviously. They were heroes.

Once they were done with their cleaning and fifty million apologies, they went back to shopping.

Chat was still in the cart but, after being woken up twice in the same day to the worst sounds his fellow miraculous holders could think of, he was wide awake.

“Guys, it’s Hawkmoth, we have to do purple!”

“No, that’s what he’d want us to do. Go the whole other way and do yellow.”

“Of course you would say that, Bee.”

“What’s that supposed to --?”

Ladybug held her hands up. “Guys, compromise. They’re complimentary colors. We can use both.”

The other three looked at her like she was insane.

Ladybug clicked her tongue and looked over at Carapace. “Are you going to weigh in on this?”

“No. I’d prefer not to get into… whatever this is.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Greeeat. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Ladybug turned to give a tired glare to the three in front of her. “Fine. Fine! I’m deciding. We’re doing purple.”

“But --!” Started Chloe.

“Nope.”

“I --!” Tried Chat.

“Shhhhhhh. It’s decided. Purple.”

There was a little bit of grumbling, but Chloe and Chat did end up putting the yellow back.

Still, the discontent didn’t last long. Partially because it’s Paris and no one is allowed to be annoyed for over five minutes, but also because they all quickly got into choosing different things for the board.

Carapace kind of hung back for this part, because he couldn’t help but cringe whenever Chat or Chloe put something in the cart without looking at the price tags.

(What if Master Fu didn’t count this as a necessary expense? He probably would, and if he didn’t one of the rich kids would end up paying, but… it was still weird to see how careless they were with money.)

Part of him wondered what people thought about their group as they made their way through the store. A group of teenagers, all dressed in varying aesthetics from ‘literally woke up this way’ (Carapace) to ‘oh wow is that child a lawyer’ (Ladybug) to ‘I don’t care about how this looks as long as you know I’m rich’ (Chloe). They didn’t really look like the kind of people who would hang out together...

They were also all wearing masks, that had to be pretty shady.

Actually, now that he was paying attention, he noticed that quite a bit of staff seemed to be watching them.

He tried to tell himself that it was just because they’d made a mess earlier.

He knew that likely wasn’t it.

Carapace instinctively pulled his hoodie lower over his face, sinking into the green fabric. He sped up a little to walk closer to his housemates.

They had stopped to look at different borders.

Chloe was frowning. “ -- which one to choose, they’re all so ugly…”

“We could make our own…?” Said Chat.

“Or, consider, we don’t waste all our time making sure it looks good?” Said Rena.

“We’re not going to get much information for a while, we might as well use our time doing something,” said Chloe.

Rena winced. “Please don’t say that.”

Carapace raised his eyebrows. That was odd. Why was she so determined, anyways?

He shrugged it off. Maybe she just wanted to question Hawkmoth. He wouldn’t put it past her.

His eyes slid over the group to Ladybug, who was occasionally glancing at something and opening her mouth, only to close it again and look away.

He followed her gaze to a bunch of different sized purple, paper butterflies.

Oh. Did she want them and just didn’t know how to say it?

He walked over to the butterflies and checked the price. After a few seconds’ deliberation he made his way down the aisle to look at the construction paper’s prices. Hm… time versus convenience...

He looked up to ask which one would be better and cringed internally when he realized everyone had disappeared.

How did they disappear? They were so loud…

But that wasn’t his problem at the moment.

He pulled down the container of purple butterflies down and started walking.

He tried to ignore the stares of staff members as he wandered the aisles.

“Bonjour!”

Shit.

He turned around and brought a smile to his face as he looked at the lady that had come up to him.

“Salut!” He said brightly, and he tried not to take too much pleasure in the way she winced. It was his go to passive-aggressive move to say ‘Salut’ at this point, to imply that the person judging him was on the same level. Was it petty? Yes. Did it work when it came to trying to figure out if it was something innocent or not? Also yes.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

“No thank you, ma’am, I’m just looking for my friends,” he said.

Should he avoid eye contact and bow his head a little? Would she think that was suspicious? He hadn’t done anything, but he also didn’t have any identification on him which wouldn’t look good if she was going to question him…

“Can I accompany you to help you find them?”

Ah. So she was going down that kind of route?

“Not necessary,” he tried.

“I insist.”

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“A kid like you shouldn’t be left alone...”

He gripped the packet of paper butterflies so tightly that it dug into his palms.

“I can handle myself, thank you. I’m Carapace,” he said.

He fought back a cringe, but it had been necessary. If he stayed like this too long he could get akumatized, and he really didn’t need that right now.

“And I’m Ladybug,” she said, unimpressed.

Yeah. Fair enough. That was kind of hard to prove. Should he show her the kwami hiding in his pocket…?

No, reaching towards his pocket was decidedly a bad idea. She was way too wary of him for that, who knows what she’d think.

He pulled a fake smile to his face. Fine. If he could get this over with quickly he might be able to get through this without getting akumatized.

“Okay, ma’am, help would be nice, I guess…”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

#a miraculous tiktok account #nino lahiffe #carapace #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #rena rouge #rewriting miraculous #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

74 notes · View notes

allegra-writes · 5 years

Text

"Cherry"

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Dom!Peter, jealous, Possesive!Peter, rough sex.

Weeks after the island, Peter finally sees you again. But you aren't alone...

Part of the "Fine Line" series but you don't need to have read that first.

Series Masterlist

Peter couldn't breath. His clothes felt stiff and restrictive, the bowtie, suffocating. This was a bad, bad idea. He wasn't cut for this. He was just a Parker, not a Stark, he had spent most his life trying to be invisible, not even getting superpowers had changed that. He had never wanted to stand out. He didn't want to be seen, to be recognized.

Even Quentin Beck had realized that. That's why he had done what he had, because he knew it would be the best way to ruin Peter's life. It had been almost a month since his return from Eroda, since Pepper and Fury had managed to clear his name and expose Quentin Beck as the fraud he was, trying to frame Peter for his murder with an adulterated video out of jealousy and envy. The greedy, insane employee gone mad after being overlooked in favor of the young intern, chosen by Tony Stark himself to be his successor. Spider-Man had just been doing his job as Peter's bodyguard when the incident at the bridge happened.

That was the official story, and the press had bought it with gusto, plastering the wide eyed boy's face on every cover, every paper, every magazine, every news site. A few weeks later, he was pretty much America's new sweetheart. Everybody knew his name. Everybody knew his face. His anonymity was gone.

Quentin Beck had won.

And now, there he was, being blinded by flashing lights, walking the red carpet of his first gala as the official heir of Stark Industries… two seconds away from throwing up.

"Breathe, Peter" Pepper whispered to him, voice calm and reassuring, "Just focus on a point above their heads, and keep your head high"

She took a step forward and Peter couldn't help but stare: she looked like a queen in her white gown, complete with cape and everything. She was an elegant woman but it wasn't just about her beauty, it was about the power, the authority she commanded, every eye in that red carpet had no choice but to focus on her.

Tony had been like that too, albeit in a different way: charismatic and bigger than life. Peter wondered how anybody could look at him, awkward and pasty, and think he was related to the man. Because he knew what people were saying...

"Parker, how are you holding up, mate?" A tall, blond boy patted his back, pulling him out of his thoughts. Harry Osborn, the only person there to introduce himself to Peter and actually take the time to try and make him feel comfortable. At first Peter had thought it had something to do with his family being the one hosting the gala but the youngest Osborn wasn't exactly famous for his good manners or decorum.

"I think I'm about to have a panic attack" more like sensory overload, but Peter wasn't sure how could he explain something like that to his new friend.

"Well, you are not hungover and puking on the photographers" The blond flashed him a brilliant smile, "so you're already doing better than me on my first red carpet"

Peter couldn't help the burst of laughter, but far from offended, Harry's grin turned even brighter. The flashes went wild.

"There you go, that should make for better photographs than the deer-in-the-headlights look you were sporting"

Peter offered him a grateful smile,

"Thanks dude, really"

"Don't mention it" Harry shook his head, "You're actually doing me a favor, letting me hang out with you. You're saving me from looking all lonely and pathetic in front of these vultures, since apparently I have been stood up..."

Peter stared at the blond in surprise. With those sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes, it was hard to believe any girl could resist him. He suddenly felt a lot less bad about showing up dateless.

"Alright, we've spent about fifteen minutes out here, we can go in now" Harry instructed, already a pro at this kind of event, gesturing for Peter to follow.

He noticed the whispers as they walked into the massive lobby together, Oscorp and Stark Industries were rivals, just as Norman Osborn and Tony Stark used to be. His mentor used to find the other billionaire shady and his experiments, unethical. Even now, Pepper's and Norman's relationship was strained, at best, so seeing both heirs so friendly with each other was a little shocking. But if Harry didn't care about that, neither would Peter. Whatever sins the father had committed, he wasn't going to hold them against the son. That wasn't Peter's style.

"So, what do you think of your first gala, so far?" Harry sauntered in front of him, stealing two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handling one to Peter.

"Oh, I- I don't drink, thank you"

"Good, that's a wise choice, don't change it" Harry praised, taking the glass back and downing that one too. Peter shook his head.

"I like it," He replied, looking around at the huge salon decked in lavished green and silver banners, the tables gilded with intricate floral arrangements, the huge shiny dance floor in the middle. "Stark Industries' is having one for Christmas, but it's going to be held at a hotel…"

Harry made a face,

"Yeah, that would be the norm, actually. But my father wanted to have it here this year, to prove the facilities are safe, you know?"

Peter thought back to that fatidical field trip all those years ago, to this very same building, when he was bitten by a stray radioactive spider that had escaped one of the labs. He hummed noncommittally. He seriously hoped mister Osborn was right, for the good of everyone attending the party, Harry included. Because truth was he really liked his new friend, he made everything easier just by offering Peter his company, by giving him someone his age to talk too, amongst all those old, stuck up gazillionaires that stared at him with curiosity at best, and open contempt at worst.

But of course all good things had to come to an end, such was the Parker luck. Harry took his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket.

"Would you look at that! It seems my date has finally arrived" He announced, eyes glued to the screen, smitten smile on his face, "One would think an influencer would jump at the chance of being photographed by the press at a red carpet… But not her, of course. No, she arrives an hour late… I'll go find her, be right back, Parker"

That was when he saw you. Entering the ballroom, a siren in your long golden dress, scanning the crowd. You looked stunning, hair longer, lighter, done in elegant waves cascading down your back. Your smile was dazzling as you found what you were looking for, and Peter didn't see his new friend make his way to you, entranced as he was by your mere presence.

Until he reached your side, and kissed your lips.

Harry Osborn offered you his arm, and you took it graciously, and he walked you through the room, proud swag on his steps as he introduced you to practically everyone in the party, Peter's heart breaking a little more with every step you took towards him.

He hadn't heard from you since the island, and now he knew why: You had already found someone new. Someone better, more handsome, and classier than Peter. Than the awkward boy you had been sent to protect.

Because underneath the Stark's money and his spider powers, that was all Peter was: some orphan kid from Queens who didn't belong. Harry could take you on dates to fancy restaurants without mispronouncing the names of the dishes, he could take you walking around his mother's art gallery in the upper east. He, with his aristocratic features, his british boarding school accent, his old family money, was a much better fit for a princess like you. You wanting Peter had never made much sense anyway.

And you looked good on Harry's arm, better than ever, actually. You looked happy. Peter hated it, and he hated himself for it.

"Parker! I want you to meet my date, Sixtine Boucher, influencer, it girl, philanthropist..." Harry was saying, suddenly in front of him, but Peter wasn't listening. You were there, close enough to touch, in the flesh. He could hear your heartbeat, smell you, sunshine and sweetness under the chemical tang of your expensive perfume for the first time after so long and it was almost overwhelming.

"S-Sixteen?"

"Sixtine" You corrected him, sighing as if it was something you did all the time and you were tired of it, "Bonsoir, Peter."

You sounded… funny.

"You know each other?" Harry's voice asked, politely curious.

"We met during vacation, at the…" You trailed off, eyes meeting Peter in a silent request to play along, disguised as a struggle to find the right words, “... Comment dis-tu ‘plage’ en anglais?”

"Beach" Provided Peter, his brain catching up at last "Yeah, at the beach… when I was on vacation… a-at the french riviera"

"What a small world!" Harry chuckled but it sounded nervous, uncertain. No doubt he could feel the tension between the two of you, growing with every passing second. Along with Peter's understanding. The hair, the dress, the french accent? It was a costume, you were a spy after all. You weren't there for leisure, you were there for work. This was a mission. Harry was your target, or maybe your cover. Whatever it was, it wasn't you. It wasn't real.

But then again, had Peter really met the real you? After all, not that long ago he had been your mission too…

When the next waiter passed in front of him, Peter stopped him. It probably would no nothing to his spider metabolism, but alcohol was looking more and more like a good idea. He had a feeling he was going to need all the help possible to get through the night. Harry arched a brow but luckily didn't comment, as he was beginning to get a clearer idea about how you and the brown eyed boy knew each other.

A glint on your cleavage caught Peter's eyes and he frowned. There, hanging from a long gold chain, nested between your breasts and almost completely hidden by the, admittedly low cut, neckline of your dress, rested a familiar crystal sunflower. The cheap jewel didn't match your cover, or your outfit, the only reason why you could be wearing it, was him.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, letting you know he understood, and you let out the breath you were holding.

But awareness didn't make watching you, plastered to Harry's side all night any easier. It didn't stop him from seeing red every time you called Harry "baby", the endearment close enough to the "baby boy" you used for Peter to feel like a betrayal. It definitely didn't save the glass of wine he was holding from shattering under his grip as he saw you sneak outside of the room with him in the middle of dinner.

"Peter! Are you alright?" Pepper fussed over his hand, looking for cuts, and motioning to a waiter to help clean the shards of glass from the table.

"Yeah" He murmured, distractedly, eyes never leaving the doorway you had disappeared through, "I-I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me"

He didn't even wait for Mrs. Stark's reply as he got up from the table, giving chase to you and your date through corridors and elevators, following your giggles and the faint trace of your perfume. His persecution led him to the upmost floor of the building, where a single mahogany awaited him, but the fingertip scanner on the lock told him he wasn't going to be able to open it.

He cursed, barely catching himself from making a dent on the wall with a punch. You were doing your job, that was all, he repeated, like a mantra. Whatever was happening behind that door meant nothing. You were wearing his sunflower, that had to mean something, it had to.

After a few minutes, that felt like hours to him, the door opened.

"Peter! Shit, I was hoping you would be smarter than to follow me!" You hissed, as he pushed you back, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him.

"Where is Harry?"

"Knocked out in the bathroom" You pointed at a door by the side. Peter took a look around the room, by far the biggest, most luxurious office he had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been inside Pepper's so that was saying something. The view of the Manhattan skyline through the floor to ceiling window was nothing short of breath taking. "I just needed him to get in here"

"Right. Of course. I knew that"

You squinted in suspicion at his flat tone,

"Pete, are you… jealous?" You smirked, amused. But Peter wasn't in the mood for your teasing, his patience finally reaching its limit.

He was on you in a heartbeat, pushing you back against the wall, caging you with his body. There was a dangerous, possessive spark in his eyes that you had never seen before. One that promised trouble for you.

"So what if I am?" He challenged, bracing himself on one hand on the wall next to your head, the other one slipping through the high slit on the skirt of your dress, fingertips digging on the sensitive skin at the inside of your thighs, "So what if every time I saw him put his hands on you tonight, I wanted to break his fingers? What if every time he kissed you, I felt like dying?"

The pain was evident in his voice, breaking your heart a little. But this was you, you were a special agent, this was what you did. Peter had said he wanted you, wanted to get to know the real you. Well, this was it.

"I'm not going to apologise for doing my job…"

"I'm not asking you to" He interrupted

"Then what are you asking of me?"

Peter pinned you with a long, considering look and you did your best not to squirm under its intensity.

"I'm not asking anymore, mon chérie " he finally spoke, "I'm taking"

He crushed his mouth, and his body, to yours, trapping you under his familiar weight and, for the first time since returning from the island, you felt home. He tasted like wine, and the cherries from dessert and heat. You had almost forgotten how his warmth felt like sunlight against your skin, until every starved pore opened to soak him up. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. God, how you had missed him on your lips!

You must have said it out loud, because you felt his smile against your jaw as he broke the kiss to let you breathe.

"Did you, now?" He inquired, nuzzling down your neck, "Where else did you miss me, cherry?"

You felt his long, talented fingers find their goal, tugging your underwear to the side, slipping into you with no warning once he realized how ready you already were for him.

"Did you miss me here? Did you miss me inside you?"

There was a buzzing in your coms and the reality of what was about to happen, andwhere it was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water.

"Peter, wait, not here!" Peter ignored you, lips latching onto the spot just under your ear that Peter knew made you see stars. He couldn't wait, couldn't tear himself away from you, from your body. You were already breathing hard and he knew your halfhearted resistance wasn't going to last much longer. He speeded up the movement of his fingers inside you, tearing an involuntary cry out of your mouth. He was working you expertely, wave after wave of wetness bathing his hand, undeniable proof of your pleasure.

"Gonna leave so many pretty marks on you..." He promised, puncturing his words by biting down, hard, on the column of your neck, "Everybody's going to know who you really belong to..."

"Peter, please!" You sobbed, implored.

"Want me to stop baby girl? Really?"

You shook your head no. You didn't, you couldn't. Fuck the mission, fuck Oscorp, you only wanted to feel him. It had been too long, way too long. You took your coms out of your ear and smashed it under your hill. You'd deal with Hill later.

Peter slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, lowering his face to your exposed chest, all wet lips and hot tongue as you hurriedly undid his button and zipper, finally freeing his angry, hard member. You pumped him once, and he bit on your nipple with enough strength to draw a single, sweet drop of blood.

"Oh god… feels so good" Peter's words were muffled against your collar bone, as he stretched you, burying himself deep inside you, as far as he would go, "being one with you again…"

"I missed you" You confessed, "so much, baby boy!"

Peter leaned back, stormy eyes capturing yours, holding you hostage,

"Oh no, my cherry, after your little stunt calling Harry baby all night?" He tsked, "No, you don't get to call me that anymore… now, you're gonna call me 'daddy'"

With that, he started thrusting up into you roughly, hips almost cruel in their onslaught as they slammed into you, truly railing you against the wall, unyielding, unrelenting. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life, taking what he gave you like a good girl cause that was what Peter needed from you.

But god, did it feel good! His large thick cock, hard as vibranium, stretching you to your limits, a fit so tight you could feel every bump, every vein, as he hit all the secret spots inside you, tearing the pleasure out of you. Your orgasm was building fast, so fast it made you dizzy with the way all your blood rushed to your center. As your walls began to quiver around him, and you met Peter's fierce, furious face, you knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with just the one. Oh, no, he was going to rip out at least one more orgasm from your ravished body before releasing you. Undoubtedly not before marking you from the inside with his own release, you had long ago learned Peter was animalistic like that, all higher reasoning disappearing when it came to making you his.

"Tell me you're mine" he breathed, demanding, against your cheek, hand sneaking between your bodies to tease your pearl, making you explode in sensation, and prolonging your climax, keeping you there where he wanted you, right on your peak until you were at the edge of sanity, your brain unable to process that much pleasure so suddenly and for so long.

You tried, but you couldn't remember how to form words, the only sound leaving your lips a delirious,

"Peter!"

"Say it, my cherry" he insisted, feeling his own release approach much quicker than he would like, but it just had been so long, and he had missed you so much and you just felt so fucking good "let me hear you say you're mine as I make you come again…"

"Yes!" You cried, finally finding your voice, "I'm yours, Peter… only yours!"

"Damn right… all mine… only mine…"

He was almost there, and judging from the way your muscles were tensing and locking around him again, Peter knew you were too. But something was going on outside, his super hearing catching the sound of the elevator doors, and footsteps on the hallway. Still, he couldn't stop. He was so close, so fucking close… He had to come, had to make you come, before they did. There were voices outside, one of them he even recognized, telling the others to stop, to listen. Peter sneaked an arm around your waist, getting you away from the wall, moving you up and down his cock at inhuman speed, and he finally felt you fall apart. He came with a final cry of triumph… right as the doorknob started to turn.

Faster than any human could, he ran behind the door, with you still in his arms, to buy himself a couple of seconds as he slipped out of you, fixing your dress so you were completely covered before even thinking about tucking himself back inside his pants.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Norman Osborn's exasperated voice was the first thing your pleasure addled brain was able to process as you stood on shaky legs, Peter's frame still hiding you from view. He took of his suit jacket, helping you put your hands through the sleeves and fastening it close.

"Put down your weapons, you goons! High security breach?.. Horny teenagers are not a menace, I should know!" Norman was still yelling at his guards. Peter turned around to face the old man, and you muffled your histerical laugh against his sweaty back, breathing him in.

"S-sir… sorry, we-we we-were just" Peter babbled, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, save it, boy! I know exactly what you were doing, this whole place stinks of sex!"

You snorted and Norman finally seemed to notice who you were,

"I'm sorry, weren't you my son's date?"

You could only laugh harder.

"He passed out" provided Peter, as innocently as he managed, "in the bathroom"

"He's in the…" the billionaire's eyes widened, "Wait, you… you three were…"

"He really liked Peter" You announced, unhelpfully, fake accent restored.

"Ignore her, please" Peter sounded apologetic, not wanting the blonde boy that had so kindly offered his friendship to him to face unjust consequences for his own fuck up "Harry has nothing to do with this. My girlfriend was just trying to make me jealous. It worked. Harry's only mistake was to get drunk"

Norman rolled his blue eyes, so alike his son's,

"A common mistake for him. Trust me, boy, you don't need to make excuses for him… God knows I got tired of making them myself a long time ago." He sighed, gesturing to his guards to check on Harry inside the bathroom.

"Now, get out of here, both of you, so I can call the cleaning crew… not Tony's son my ass, this is the exact same shit your father used to pull at all my parties!"

Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but you tugged on his arm, it was pointless to try and deny it, Osborn senior was never going to believe him.

Peter took your hand,

"Right. Of course… we'll be… going, then"

You chuckles at his cute, nervous babbling became a full on belly splitting laugh as you ran out of the office and locked yourselves inside the elevator.

"Oh my god, his face!" You clutched at your stomach, doubled over, "that was… the best alibi in history! They didn't even search me!!" You showed Peter the tiny pendrive with S.H.I.E.L.D's logo where you had copied all the information inside Norman Osborn's computer. Peter tilted his head in confusion,

"Six, where were you even keeping that?!" Osborn's security might ot have searched you, but his own had been… pretty thorough.

You merely winked,

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

This time, it was Peter's turn of barking a laugh. He pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.

"Come on, let's find Happy and tell him to get the car. I want to get out of here…"

And he was taking you home with him.

To be continued...

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker reader smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland hot

1K notes · View notes

hisunshiine · 3 years

Text

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 1

✈︎ chapter 1: dear lucky ARMY... | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

✈︎ genre: none this chapter future smut, fluff, angst

✈︎ word count: 1,143 words

✈︎ pairing: none this chapter

✈︎ warnings: none this chapter

✈︎ summary: It was a running joke within the fandom that you all should just buy an island, move there, and have Namjoon be the president. That is, it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a running joke, until one day on Twitter, it all came to a head. When the GoFundMe receives enough money and instructions to purchase said island, what choice is there to make but to do it?

✈︎ a/n: hi! this story is near and dear to me and @mrsparkjimin18′s heart! we started this story last year to help cope with covid-19 for both us and our friends who are readers! we hope that we can do the same for you and provide an escape. the first 2 chapters are short and start off slow, but i promise it picks up chapter 3 with our first pairing and some smut and then it doesn’t stop. lol

It has been a few weeks since you and the girls came up with the idea to start a GoFundMe, and donations have been flowing in. You receive a message from Vanessa, saying it’s urgent and to call her immediately.

“Nessa, what’s going on? What is so urgent?” You ask. You can hear her rapidly clicking the keys on her keyboard.

“Have you checked our GoFundMe today?” she asks. You wonder why she is asking, feeling nervous at the tone in her voice.

“No, have we reached our goal of twenty thousand dollars?! That would be amazing and it has only been--”

She cuts you off.

“Girl… no… w-we, I mean somebody, an anonymous donor donated an extremely generous amount, just check the account. I have to make sure I am not losing my mind.”

You open your laptop and pull up the account, when you see the donation you drop your phone and scream.

“Is this real?!?! I-I….WE ARE GOING TO BUY AN ISLAND!!!!!!” You remember that Vanessa is still on the phone.

“Hello?! Y/N!!!! What the hell? So I’m not crazy?!” She is just as excited as you are.

“No, you’re not...the donor also put a note of a few islands we could purchase. Well, what do you want to do?”

Vanessa answers quickly.

“We need to start looking into this donor's suggestions, like now.” You both agree to let the other admins of the page look into the islands and you will have to decide by tomorrow.

After researching all night, everybody has agreed to purchase a Caribbean Island: Long Caye, Belize. The island already has standing properties, enough for a decent amount of people to live in for starters, so there wasn’t any work that needed to be done right away.

Since everyone had come to an agreement on which island to choose, Vanessa reached out to the donor, notifying them that you all were thankful to them for not only their donation, but also their list of islands, as it made it easier for you all to make a choice. After a few days, of which you were growing more and more nervous, the donor finally messaged back and disclosed that they were willing to pay for a charter plane to transport 14 lucky people to the island.

Of course the seven of you will all be going, since you were the ones who came up with the idea. Vanessa suggested a Twitter Giveaway, with 7 lucky winners to come live on Bangtania Island. The giveaway contest will run for two weeks, and then upon it’s closing, the 7 winners will be chosen and then announced two weeks after. This would give you all enough time to go through the entries and select the 7 lucky people who would join your group of seven and fly to your newly acquired island, Bangtania.

The amount of people who entered the giveaway was insane. Of course there were those who didn’t believe that such a thing was real, but Vanessa posted the proof of the purchase on the giveaway account page, along with a video made with you and the 6 other girls, and now it was almost draining watching the notifications rack up. Daily you each took turns monitoring entries and adding the names to the raffle, cross checking entries with the word document to make sure there weren’t double entries from the same page.

You couldn’t wait till it was over, having already packed up your stuff as soon as you had seen the donations on GoFundMe had exceeded the amount needed; you just wanted to be done with all the bullshit and go live on your own island with other ARMY that you had made friends with on Twitter.

Sitting on the plane, 13 girls surrounding you laughing and drinking the complimentary champagne on board, you read over the email that everyone had received a few days before departure.

Hey guys, the donor sent this email to me and asked me to forward it to you all!

Dear lucky ARMY,

Congratulations on being one of the 14 to kick off this new venture. I ran across your GoFundMe while looking for worthwhile groups to donate to, and I saw what you had written about everything your fandom has gone through, and how you needed an escape. In these trying times, I can understand that need, and I hope that my donation was able to help you with your goal so that you will enjoy living on the island. We may not know each other, but I was so moved by your passion for your favorite group, that I have decided to continue to help you all out. The charity I have extended doesn’t just end at the plane, as I have decided to continue to donate to help your small island nation thrive, as it is a very good tax write off for me. Since you have no source of income from the island just yet, I will be helping send shipments to the island of what you need. It would be best to appoint someone to be in charge of things, like keeping track of food, water, toiletries, etc. so that you can stay stocked up for everyone. I will be sending a delivery to arrive before you get there of some basics that will help with getting started. You will find it in the main house. I trust Miss Vanessa has received the key to get everyone situated upon your arrival. I have already sent someone to set up the water and electricity, as well as internet access. Once there it will be prudent that you set up some type of form of government, unfortunately a country cannot function without one, but with so few people, this should not be difficult. Trust one another, and as your favorite boys say, love yourself, and love each other, and enjoy.

The rest of the email provided the addresses of the different buildings on the island, like the main house, the empty building that could be seen as a sort of town hall, and the convenient little storefronts off the very small port area for docking boats.

The storefronts were not actively in use, and one shop was an open room that was full of mailboxes for deliveries, and each of you was given your own for post, which was nice. You were all able to share your address with friends and family before leaving, instructing them with how to send you care packages and letters.

You looked up from your phone as you could hear a rather loud chorus of laughter; Talia had said something funny and Vanessa was hunched over wiping away tears from laughing so hard. Everyone on board was in good spirits, you couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this.

#hisunshiine #hisunshiine writings #hisunshiinewritings #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts story #bangtansorciere #bangtanuniversity #bangtanwhq #bangtaninn #mrsparkjimin18 #Escape Series #Escape #Escape BTS #BTS Escape Series #ot7 x reader

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sluttyten · 4 years

Text

All the Stars in the Night Sky

summary: hendery is a rich playboy type in public, lonely in private, and when he lets you into his life, neither of you are sure you’ll ever be able to leave

length: 16,255 words

tags: male reader, smut, daddy kink, angst, idk it felt like it got a little emotionally dark sometimes, some family troubles, happy ending (I promise)

Hendery would never admit to his friends (if he could really call them that at all) how miserably lonely he found this life.

He was rich, sure, and that meant that many doors were opened to him, that he had dozens and dozens of people vying to be his friends or to warm his bed for a night or two. When he’d once attempted to go near the topic with his close friend (the most genuine one of the bunch), Xuxi had laughed and gestured around them while saying, “How can you ever feel bad about anything in your life when you have all this? Like you’ve got an entire chest of drawers and an additional display case just for jewelry.”

That was true.

Jewelry was nice, it could buy him attention and a few friends, but it was nothing real or meaningful.

So Hendery set out on a great journey to find something that would fill the gaping hole of loneliness. Along the way, he earned the name of richest playboy in East Asia, Huang Guanheng, or Hendery to his friends.

He fucked his way across the world’s map, his body count growing each day. None of the girls or boys in his bed were it, they couldn’t fill up that void of loneliness. Xuxi and Dejun tried their best, but they were both in a similar state to him—earning money faster than they can hemorrhage it in an attempt to feel better about their lives.

On the first night you met Hendery, you were covering a gala where his father was the guest of honor. Most of the reporters were left outside the event, but you had managed to catch the eye of the eligible Guanheng as you’d dressed for the gala in the hopes of getting inside, a nice sleek suit paired with a bowtie.

He looked you up and down then gestured for the security team to allow you inside. You couldn’t miss the hisses and curses behind your back as you left the cluster of other reporters to enter the party. As you came up beside Guanheng in his handsome suit, his hands glimmering with rings, he plucked your phone out of your hand and watched as a guard stepped forward to frisk you.

“Hey!” You smacked at the guard’s hand as he got a bit too handsy at your inseam.

Guanheng called off the guard, but didn’t hand back your phone. Instead he tucked it into a hidden pocket of his suit jacket. “You can have this back later. It’s a media blackout event, so I can’t have you taking photos or recordings, you know, but it would be such a shame for someone like you to miss out an event like this.”

You decide that you don’t really mind. Even without photos or video inside the gala, you would still have the experience of being inside, and your boss would love that more than whatever pictures you got from outside. And besides, you were personally being invited inside by the most notorious young man on this side of the world.

“You can call me Hendery.” He said as you stepped through into the heart of the event. And then as you looked over at him, he smiled and leaned closer, laying the charm on so thick that you could almost taste it, and he said, “Or you can call me Daddy.”

If you weren’t already so attracted to Hendery, you would have left right then. Fuck your phone, a line like that one he’d just given you would usually have you walking the other way. You’d known him for less than five minutes. You were a reporter meant to be covering this event in an official capacity, and he had to go and make an inappropriate comment like that? Cocky assholes were not your type.

But, lucky for him, you actually did have a weakness for guys who liked being called Daddy, and more importantly, you had a weakness for the pretty curl of his smile and his dark eyes and the comforting weight of his hand at the small of your back.

Your knees felt weak.

You’d heard about the games he played before. A friend of yours had once met him at a party and she’d given you the step-by-step of his seduction. The way he’d charmed her thoroughly and then he’d gotten himself drunk before he fucked the breath from her lungs and left her so jelly-legged that she was still a little unstable when you saw her two days afterwards.

So you weren’t terribly surprised by anything that followed. Hendery was charming. He knew all the right things to say, he knew the way to look at you to break through the last of your walls, and he definitely knew just the right things to whisper in your ear any time that you began to mentally talk yourself down from pursuing where the night was inevitably going to end.

And that’s how you found yourself in the bathroom with Hendery, facing yourself in the mirror as he fucked you. The sound of your bodies colliding and your moans, his low instructions for you to call him daddy, all the sounds of the two of you together echoed off the dark tiles and the mirrors of the bathroom, and you gazed into the reflection as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm.

Hendery’s ringed fingers came down hard on your ass, and the sting of pleasure sent you crashing through your orgasm.

You only barely managed to hold yourself up to still look into the mirror as you came for Hendery. You looked up at the reflection of his face, and what you saw there scared you a little. You saw the dark look in his eyes, an emptiness as he fucked you like it would make him really feel something, but it was then that you saw that all his charm and seduction was just a mask, and right then you were seeing Hendery without his mask, robotically fucking you to make himself feel something.

When he cums inside the condom a moment later, you look away from his face, and the next time you look up after he’s pulled out and is disposing of the condom, you find his mask back in place. A cocky smile as he tells you that you sounded so sexy moaning daddy for him, begging for his cock.

But now that you’ve seen beneath his mask, you can hear the hollow sounds behind his words.

He rocked your world absolutely, you’ve never had a better orgasm. But even after you leave the event that night, you can’t forget the way he’d looked, and how even with all of that lack of true emotion or passion for what he was doing, he’d still treated you so good all night.

Your body craved another orgasm by his hand, or rather by his cock.

Luckily, you had the perfect excuse. You’d left your phone in that hidden pocket of his jacket. A full day and a half passed before you finally really needed your phone and you finally confirmed to yourself that you could go to a Hendery again if he would have you.

You called your phone from a friend’s, and you were so pleased when three rings in, someone picked up on the other end.

“Hendery?” You asked cautiously as he’d not said a word.

“Yeah, I’m guessing you want your phone back?” He says.

You cradle the phone closer. “I do sort of need it. Have I missed any calls?”

Hendery’s quiet for a second and then. “Two from your boss. Hope that doesn’t mean anything bad for you.” His voice is flat, tired, and you wonder if you just woke him even though it’s edging toward two in the afternoon. He yawns. “You can come pick it up at my place.” He rattles off the address, and you write it down on your hand.

His house is huge, gorgeous, and so out of reach from your position in life that it almost hurts when the gates swing open after you press the buzzer button. The taxi you’d taken here still rumbles and puffs exhaust behind you, and you just know the driver is still craning his neck to take in the place, probably thinking he should’ve charged you more for the ride. But the gates clank shut behind you, and then it’s just you, a massive drive way and a fountain and large green shrubs that are neatly trimmed, and the house looming up before you.

A butler—an honest to god butler with the penguin suit and everything—opens the door for you and tells you he’ll lead you to “Master Hendery.”

It takes the entire walk through the house to Hendery for you to decide that the butler is not joking about calling Hendery ‘Master’ as he even begins addressing you formally. You pass maids as well, handfuls of them dusting and sweeping and carrying laundry. And it’s all just incredible to you because it takes you as long to reach Hendery’s bedroom from the front door as it takes you to walk from your favorite take out place to your sofa in your apartment.

“This is fucking insane,” you say as you step through the doorway the butler holds open.

The door snaps shut behind you, and you take a moment to look around at the entryway you’re in. There’s a sitting area to your left, a spacious bathroom visible through a doorway to your right. And just right there you’re overwhelmed with the luxuriousness of Hendery’s lifestyle.

“Are you coming in?” Hendery asks, his voice from somewhere deeper inside his palatial suite of rooms. You finally do walk further inside, passing through the sitting area to eventually find yourself in his bedroom.

There’s a large unmade bed with a pair of feet hanging out the side and someone still snoring beneath the blankets. A bay of windows looks out over the side lawn of Hendery’s home, a manicured lawn with a pool and more neatly trimmed shrubbery. It’s against those windows that you find Hendery. He’s got his legs stretched out the length of the windows eat while he stares down into the yard and pops mouthfuls of something into his mouth from the plate in his lap.

You clear your throat, and he snaps away from the window, looking at you. Your gaze slides away, back to the figure in his bed.

Hendery stands up, dropping the plate onto the window seat as he gesture for you to follow him. “That’s just Xuxi. You know, Huang Xuxi.”

You do know. Everyone who’s paid any attention to the life of Hendery knows Xuxi as well as Dejun, the two most wealthy and most prolific with their sexual encounters, just one rung below Hendery on the list.

Hendery doesn’t say anything else about his friend, instead he leads you back through the sitting room, in through the spacious bathroom, and out the other side into his closet. You try not to let your eyes grow to wide at the wealth you see amassed in this one room. Hendery ignores your expression, the look of wonder on your face, and he points at the window into the room, another window seat, where your phone is plugged into a charger.

You don’t even consider what a strange place this is for your phone to be. You just walk over and scoop it up, sit down to check your notifications. You have two voicemails from your boss, the first irate, the second still irate but slightly concerned as you normally return his calls within an hour at most, and his two calls were 24 hours apart. You quickly shoot off a message to him apologizing and explaining the situation in as few words as possible, promising him that you have a story for him.

Being at the gala hadn’t been all fun and fucking with Hendery. You had actually been working too, gathering bits of information for you to compose into a story, which you’d begun on during the last day and a half.

“So everything okay with your boss? Not fired?” Hendery asks, and you look up at him, having half-forgotten that he was there and halfway believing that he would’ve left the room and returned to his bed and best friend.

“Not fired, I hope. He was just angry that he hadn’t heard from me.” You stand up and unplug your phone, tucking it into your pocket. And then you hesitate. You came all this way for your phone, it seems such a shame to leave so quickly. Especially after you’ve been thinking almost non-stop about Hendery’s cock.

Something in that must show in your eyes because Hendery smirks. “You’re a thirsty bitch, aren’t you?” You gaze works down from his smirk to his chest and then even lower to the loose linen sleep pants he wears. “Bet you forgot your phone in my pocket on purpose so you could come try to get me to fuck you again.”

You hadn’t planned that, but it truly had worked out that way.

Hendery comes closer, and you sink back down onto the windowseat, and when he stands right before you, you find your mouth level with his swollen bulge in the front of his pants.

“Do you want me to fuck your mouth, slut? Want Daddy to make a mess of you?” Hendery asks, and he pushes his fingers through your hair, tilting your head back so you’re forced to look up at his face again. “You want Daddy’s cock again?”

You swallow and suddenly your tongue feels too big for your mouth. You nod silently.

“Then open up.” Hendery runs a hand down to your jaw, thumbing at your bottom lip. “Show me what you want.”

Your mouth drops open, and you look up at his face, ready for your mouth to be filled with his big cock. Hendery tsks at you, and he reaches down to push his pants down, freeing his cock, and then he pushes immediately into your mouth.

Hendery doesn’t wait for you, he just pushes in, setting off your gag reflex, and he moans as you choke around him. He only pulls back slightly to let you breathe a bit, and then he pushes forward again. This time you take him slightly better, still gagging a bit, but Hendery seems to love that. He swears and moans, puts his hand on the back of your head and sinks forward until you’re straining to take all of him in, but you’re pretty sure that you can’t possibly take even the little bit of him that’s not yet between your lips.

“You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well,” Hendery tells you, stroking the back of your head. He starts thrusting, pulling back to thrust in sharply again. Your jaw aches already and you’ve barely even started, but the hunger for Hendery makes you brush off the ache as if it’s nothing.

You close your eyes, open up your mouth as wide as you can, and you let Hendery fuck your throat. You reach for his hips, trying to hold yourself steady, and Hendery fucks your mouth harder at your touch, he sinks into you like he’s searching for something, hungry for the feel of you around him. You think again of that look in his eyes while he fucked you at the gala.

Looking up at him now, you see him watching his cock pushing between your lips. The light coming in through the window sets his face alight, all sharp angles and perfection. His jaw clenches when you moan and suddenly try to push forward, fucking your throat down on his cock instead of the other way around.

Hendery swears and the hand on the back of your head pushes your forward, his other hand curls against the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the length of your throat in the front. You feel at last the final bit of his cock passing between your lips, your face buried against his abdomen and you’re actually choking around him now, your body rejecting this and you love it, the way that Hendery keeps holding you down on him.

He cums to the feel of your throat convulsing around him, shooting his load deep down your throat. You can feel the drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, even some tears dripping down your cheeks.

Hendery starts to pull out, and you make an awful noise of choking again. He strokes your neck and throat, murmuring some words to you that you can’t make out over the sound of your heartbeat and your own coughing.

Hendery pulls most of the way out, but you’re not ready for him to leave you yet, so you suck around what of his cock is left in your mouth, and he thrusts shallowly a few more times, weak pumps of cum leaving him, and at last you both pull away from each other.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“Who’s that?” Xuxi asks where he leans in the doorway, clearly amused at what he stumbled in upon. You wipe at your mouth, and Hendery just tucks his dick away.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hendery turns away, moving toward a smaller doorway that you missed before, leading into yet another room in this labyrinthine suite of rooms. “You know the way out!”

You’re not sure if he’s addressing Xuxi, but you’re positive that he’s addressing you. You push to your feet and brush by the other wealthy man, who turns to watch you. After a few feet, you hear him walking to catch up with you.

“So, what are you doing hiding in Hendery’s closet?” He sticks close even when you push out the door of Hendery’s room. You can’t remember which way you came from, but Xuxi taps your shoulder and then points to your left. You start that way with him tagging along. “I know you weren’t here when I passed out this morning, and Hendery never mentioned a booty call.”

“He had my phone,” you finally tell him. “We met at the gala the other night. He took my phone and I forgot to get it back before I left.”

Xuxi hums in thought, and before he can think of anything else to say, you’ve reached the front door and shoved your feet back into your shoes, dancing through the door so he can’t try to say anything more. But unfortunately, his legs are longer than yours and he catches up.

“Let me give you a ride home.” He suggests. You don’t know what he’s playing at, so you turn him down.

“I’ve got a friend on their way to come get me.” You lie, but you’re already pulling your phone out to message one of your friends who doesn’t live too far away to come pick you up. “It’s too late now for me to cancel on her. She’d be pissed.”

Xuxi doesn’t seem too impressed by what you’ve just said. He offers it up once more and then heads away to his shiny luxury car parked nearby. You’re still standing there waiting for a response from your friend when Xuxi’s speakers begin booming from the bass, and he shoots off around the driveway, sending up a small shower of the little white pebbles that make up the drive. The gates open and close behind him, the booming of the bass fades away.

Still no answer from your friend. You try another. Call your first option. No answer from either of them.

It’s not necessarily cold outside, but you shiver as a breeze skirts around the side of the house. Your phone sits silent in your hand, and you feel like all the windows of the house are watching you, the maids and the butler and most of all Hendery. You tell yourself that’s foolish.

But even if it’s foolish, you think it must be true that you were being watched in some way, because after ten whole minutes of waiting with no response from your friends, the front door of the house open behind you.

“You can come back inside, if you’d like.” Hendery stands there, looking weary. He looks so different from how he looked when you first laid eyes on him. Gone is that glamor, the rich boy polished to a shine in front of all the cameras. Here you see the tiredness, the soft edges that had been so sharp in public. “You’re clearly waiting on your ride, and it’s rude of me to just leave you waiting outside. Plus, I owe you an orgasm, don’t I? Come inside.”

He sweeps his hand in a gesture for you to step through the doorway, and it doesn’t take much more than that for you to return inside Hendery’s home.

Back within his suite of rooms, Hendery plucks at your clothes while you walk toward his bed. You shed them obediently, leaving a trail from his door until the mess of his sheets, which he tumbles you into.

In the haze of lust that takes you over, you’re not even sure what all positions Hendery bends you into. You’re aware only of the pleasure, of his cock and fingers breaking you apart only to pull you back together and do it all over again. His stamina is incredible, and it’s only when you cannot physically stand another orgasm, that Hendery finally backs off, rolling over into his back, and casting the condom toward the trash half hidden in the corner.

You curl up and look at him. The cool shuttered look on his face. He stares up at the ceiling.

“Hendery.” You reach over and hit him in the chest. He jumps and grabs your hand, pushing it away. You try not to feel hurt, but you do anyway. After all that you just did together and he rejects even just a little touch of your hand? You clear your throat and try again. “Hendery, are you—“

The last word, okay?, hovers unspoken in the air when Hendery sits up and walks away, grabbing his pants from the floor and yanking them up. You wait for a moment to see if he’ll come back, and when he doesn’t, you go looking.

You find him in the bathroom washing his face. Or, more accurately, staring down into the sink with water dripping from his face.

Part of you thinks that now is the time for you to leave. He’s clearly going through some stuff and doesn’t really want you there. He just wants someone he can bury his cock inside of, nothing more. Even if you have to walk home from here, maybe it’s better than staying.

The other part of you feels that you should stay. He’s clearly going through something, and maybe he just needs to someone to stick around and be there for him through whatever this is. But when you take a step closer to him, Hendery looks up, and the second that he spots you he comes over and sweeps you into his arms, trying to kiss you and pick up again where you left off in bed.

You push at his chest. “Stop. Are you okay?”

Hendery makes a sound of frustration, and tries to kiss you again. You push at his chest again.

Hendery spins away, walking into his closet, walking deeper and deeper, and you follow him this time, slipping through that narrow doorway from one room of the closet into the next.

He walks through a section that is nothing but shoes, another that seems to be just suits. You follow him through a private laundry room, and you see a maid slipping back through a narrow door as Hendery passes by. You follow him until there’s nowhere else to go.

In a small square room at this end of his suite, there are windows set into three of the four walls. Half of the ceiling is also glass, and below that is a pile of pillows and beanbag chairs. Hendery collapses down into one of them, and then looks over at you. There’s a flicker of surprise before it’s replaced once more by a somewhat petulant expression.

“Why did you follow me?” He asks.

You fold your arms in front of you. “Because you’re clearly upset about something. I don’t know what. I know I’ve only known you for hardly even two days, but there’s clearly something going on with you and you’re using sex to cope.”

Hendery rolls his eyes, grabs a pillow and squeezes it against his chest. “You can leave now. You got your phone. You’ve had my dick as well as a month’s worth of orgasms. Bye.”

His absolutely dismissive tone stokes a fire to life inside you. You hate the way that you’re just trying to show some genuine concern for him, and he’s just brushing you off and being rude about it. He was mostly fine until you denied him fucking your again. And now he’s throwing a tantrum basically, like a spoiled rich boy, unused to not getting what he wants.

“You’re such a rich brat, you know that?” You stand firmly in the doorway.

Hendery doesn’t look at you, but the way that his head turns ever so slightly lets you know that he’s listening.

“Throwing a tantrum because I won’t let you fuck me for the fifteenth time today? And getting genuinely pissed off when I’m trying to find out if you’re okay.” You want to storm out of the room but you also want to storm over to him and drop down in his lap, make him look at you and tell you why he is the way that he is. “But maybe you’re right, Hendery. Maybe I should leave you here all alone in your ivory tower. You’re right, I got what I came for: my phone. And I got to be fucked by you again. Maybe you’re used to just being used for sex, for what you can give to others without being given much of anything else in return to recognize when someone is trying to actually show some interest in you and your personal wellbeing.”

Hendery turns his head again, almost facing you, but just looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. You think you must’ve hit a nerve of some sort.

“If you really want me to leave then tell me to leave. I’ll go. But I hope we’ll see each other again, Huang Guanheng. I hope the next time I see you, you’ll smile and mean it, that you won’t just drop the smile as soon as you think no one’s looking. I’ll see you around.” You turn today leave.

A hand catches your wrist. “Wait,” Hendery says. “Don’t leave me alone.”

You half turn back to him, and he squeezes your wrist.

“Stay.” He says, and with just that one word, a part of you breaks and you feel like you’ll never leave him.

Hendery pulls on your hand, drawing you closer and down to sink into the beanbag chair with him. He doesn’t look at you, but he softly pleas again, “Just stay. I hate sleeping alone.”

You sit for a while together silently, squished together in a beanbag chair as the sun sets, and at some point you rest your head on his arm and you just look at him. Hendery falls asleep, his head tilted back to look up at the glass part of the ceiling, and you watch his eyes close and hear his breathing fall steady and slow.

Maybe it’s weird to just watch him while he sleeps, but where else are you going to look? Any time that you shift, his arms twitches beneath you, as if he’s ready to pull you back to keep you from leaving him.

Hendery looks so soft as he sleeps. So relaxed, freed of whatever it is that plagued him while he’s awake. His pretty hair falls back from his face, leaving his forehead visible, unblemished by a frown or stern set of his eyebrows. His lips are parted and you notice that they’re turned up in a slight smile. You admire his profile—the line of his nose, the length of his eyelashes, all of the little attractive qualities about him. The sound of his breathing is like a lullaby.

You’re nearly about to fall asleep yourself when you realize that Hendery is awake again.

You don’t know when his eyes opened, but between one slow blink of your heavy eyes and the next, you realized that Hendery was gazing up at the sky through the ceiling, the stars growing more visible as night settled.

“I’m lonely, that’s my problem.” Hendery says the words softly as if he’s not sure if he really wants you to listen. “No one ever sticks around, and even if they do, they don’t really care.”

You get more comfortable with your head on his shoulder, and you tell him, “I’m here, Hendery.”

“Because you wanted dick.” Hendery keeps staring up at the ceiling, beyond it to the stars. “That’s why you’re still here.”

“Yes, at first.” You answer honestly. “What are you looking at, anyway?” You shift your head closer to his. His ear touches your cheek. “Do you know astronomy, Hendery?”

He jerks his head. “No. I just like looking. It’s dark enough and clear enough around here that we can actually see the stars somewhat decently.”

His arm beneath your head curls, draping over your shoulder. It’s comfortable, and you sink into Hendery’s touch, keeping your eyes up on the night sky as well. “Do you know anything about any of the stars?”

So Hendery begins telling you a few things, pointing out the constellation you can see, telling you stories behind the constellations, stories that you’re not familiar with, but the longer Hendery talks about them, the more you can see that he’s put some time into learning them. After a while you look away from the stars and back to his face, to the passion in his eyes and the smile on his face, the way that he stares up at the stars in awe.

You wake up in the morning with an achy neck and no memory of actually falling asleep. The last thing you remember is Hendery’s musical voice painting a story of a dragon across the night sky.

But now, Hendery is nowhere in sight.

Sunlight pours through the windows of the room, and you squint, shielding your eyes against the blaze. You rub at your eyes as you sit up, and a blanket falls down into your lap. You drag it up around your shoulders like a cape as you pass back through his extensive closet and the bathroom. The sitting room is empty as well, but he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, raking his fingers through his hair and talking on his phone.

Not wanting to pry, you quietly head back to the bathroom, hoping that by the time you’re finished showering and everything, his phone call will have ended.

His shower is massive, and it takes you somewhere close to three minutes to figure out all the controls, but finally you do stand in the glass shower, steam pressing against the walls, warm water massaging your back, racing through your hair and relaxing the ache in your neck. You start singing, quietly to yourself at first and then louder. The acoustics in the bathroom are wonderful, and you’re admiring that as you wash down your body, when another voice joins in.

You swear and turn around toward where you think the door. Your voices echo around the room, but Hendery speaks again, “You’re awake.”

You feel a spray of cold air cutting through the steam, and then you see Hendery, his bare form stepping up to stand beside you under the showerhead. He smiles, once again that charming playboy rather than the vulnerable side of himself he’d shown you last night.

“Plans today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Do you?” His gaze flicks up and down your frame, dragging slowly up from your feet, lingering when he reaches the apex of your thighs, then suddenly he’s gazing into your eyes with a fiery hunger, a half-hidden plea for you to stay, to clear your schedule for him.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, moving so you’re standing in front of him, your wet bodies fitting together. “No plans. I can send my boss my story from the gala tomorrow. As long as you promise to keep me entertained today?”

Hendery lowers his mouth to yours. He slides a hand around to palm at your ass, the other comes up to press between your shoulders, holding your chest firmly against his. His busy fingers on your ass slip into the cleft between your cheeks, dipping in deeper and deeper until you moan and press back on his fingers, just wanting him inside you.

“You gonna be good for Daddy?” Hendery speaks the question against your lips, backing off just enough that you can moan for him. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you again? Thought you weren’t here just for my dick?”

You shake your head. “I’m not, but fuck, you’ve got me all worked up now.” You reach back to hold onto his wrist, keeping him from pulling his curious fingers away from your entrance. “Just touch me, please. Daddy.”

That’s what does it.

Hendery kisses you again, his mouth hot and sharp on yours as he steps forward, pressing you backwards until you feel the glass wall of the shower cool and damp against your back. He pulls your hips forward so his wrist isn’t trapped so uncomfortably between your ass and the glass. And then he slides his finger over your needy entrance, and when you make just the sound he’s been listening for, he presses it inside you.

You pull your mouth away from his, dropping it back almost painfully against the glass. Your moan echoes between the glass walls. Hendery fingers you and mouths at your throat, soon working another fingers inside you, opening you up for his cock.

When you’re bucking your hips forward, rubbing against his erection, moaning for him, that’s when Hendery pulls his fingers away.

He flips you around, pressing your chest against the glass, drawing your hips back flush against his.

“Look at you, slut, hungry for my cock, just needing to be stuffed full.” His hand comes down on your ass. You whimper. Hendery swears and you know he just saw you clenching around nothing, looking so invitingly snug for his cock. “You want Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yeah, fuck me.” You push back, only to feel his hand burning against your ass again. “Please, Daddy, want you to put your big cock in me, I need it so bad.”

Hendery takes hold of his erection, drags it between your legs, teasing it over your entrance. You feel weak, twitching with the need to get off and touch yourself, but you don’t even have to try that to know that Hendery doesn’t want you to touch yourself. He wants you to cum solely from what he does to you.

He slaps his dick against your ass cheeks, and then pushes into you.

It burns sweetly as he pushes in deep, as you stretch around him. Even though you had him multiple times yesterday, it feels all new today. Hendery pounds into you, nailing right into that spot inside of you that sends stars across your vision, pleasure unfurling through you and turning your vision white.

Hendery presses in as deep as he can go as you cum, your walls squeezing around his cock, feeling so sensitive but still craving to be touched.

He’s so into the feel of you around him, that you don’t think he notices when your hand slips from the glass, reaching around to wrap your hand around yourself, whimpering daddy all the while. Hendery thrusts into you still, continuing on to his orgasm, carrying you too toward a second one which you feel swiftly coming towards you.

“Ah, fuck,” Hendery groans, snapping his hips forward so harshly that you knock against the glass. A whimper spills from your lips. Hendery reaches around you, drawing you back again, and that’s when he notices that you’ve been touching yourself. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Trying to cum again on my cock? Well, come on, baby.”

He fits his hand against yours, his fingers lining up with yours, touching you while you touch yourself, pumping his hand on your cock all while he still thrusts deeply inside you.

You feel yourself growing close again, pushing back on his cock. Your moans and cries of daddy and Hendery! are swallowed up by the steam billowing around the pair of you, and Hendery cums without warning, pulling out of you so quickly that you don’t even have time to miss him before you feel his hot cum painting stripes over your ass, his soft moans he leaves against your shoulder along with soft kisses.

Your joined hands continue to work on getting you to your second orgasm, and it’s when Hendery bites down on your shoulder that you spill over. Hendery rubs you through it, kissing your shoulder and murmuring to you how sweet you look cumming like this, dripping cum over your fingers and the glass, making such a mess.

“I’m tired again,” you tell him, slumping forward against the glass.

Hendery hums and pulls his hand away, bringing it to his mouth to lick his fingers clean. You rest your cheek on the glass, watching him do this, and it makes you feel warm with desire still, but you can’t take more right now. Not even when he grabs you by the hips and drags you back under the shower’s spray, cleaning the cum off of you carefully.

You end up down in a large overly fancy kitchen. A chef has several things going at once, and you’re not sure what to look at or do, but Hendery sits down at the table, pours himself a glass of juice, then pushes out the chair beside him, nodding pointedly at it. “Sit down.”

Breakfast, which is really more like brunch given the hour, is extraordinary and rich. You feel absolutely stuffed by the time you’re finished, ready to just laze about with Hendery. Until he gives you the news.

“I’m having a party here tonight.” He rubs a hand on your thigh, smiling a bit conspiratorially. “All sorts of friends are going to be here. Booze, drugs, whatever you like. Just don’t go writing about it.”

Being with Hendery makes you almost forget about your job. And you like him. You wouldn’t gossip about him even to get paid.

“DJ’s coming. Xuxi too.” And then he lists several other names that sound vaguely familiar, like you’ve heard them in connection with his name before—celebrities and other rich kids—and some less familiar names as well. “Will you stay?”

Hendery kisses your cheek and then goes lower to your neck.

You grown and push at him. You’re still sitting at the kitchen table. His chef is just a few feet away. His hands are constantly moving, massaging, stroking, attempting to entice you to stay.

When he kisses a sensitive spot on your neck and strokes at your thighs, you almost moan.

Instead you push him away more firmly this time. “You don’t have to make everything about sex, you know? Why don’t you show me around? Or tell me more about you?”

Hendery grumbles a little bit, but he stands up, takes your hand, and leads you out of the kitchen. He shows you around, showing the pantries, a greenhouse, the gym and sauna, the pool, the private movie theatre. There’s the great room, the sitting room, another sitting room, a study that holds so many books you can’t even take them all in before he’s whisking you away. He shows you the garden and the outdoor pool, the mini golf course his father had put in when he was younger.

“And where is your father?” You ask him as Hendery you pass by a gardener and the groundskeeper who are arguing over a flowerbed. “He lives here too, right?”

Hendery looks sideways at you. “Oh, you have a real Daddy kink don’t you? You trying to bump into my dad, baby?” He laughs and you can tell he’s completely joking with you. “Trust me, you’re not my dad’s type. He likes them pretty and dumb with big tits. You might be very easy on the eyes, but you’re not dumb at all. And your dick might be a bit of a problem for him.”

You can hear the bitterness clear in his tone.

You’re familiar with the story. Mr. Huang had been married to Hendery’s mother, by all accounts was head-over-heels crazy for her, but she passed away when Hendery was still very young. Mr. Huang quickly moved on to a young, hot girl. And after her there was another and another and another. An endless stream of models and actresses and heiresses, all beautiful and sweet, but none of them lasted too long.

“My father is in Moscow on business at the moment,” Hendery says coldly. “He’ll probably come back with my next mom.”

To change the subject (because you really don’t like the dark cloud that suddenly rains on Hendery’s parade), you ask him, “What’s your favorite room?”

Hendery brightens up a bit. “We’re on our way there now.”

You walk through a bit more of the garden, fragrant flowers and neatly trimmed grass, stepping stones cross a small pond swimming with koi fish. There’s a tall tree and a small picnic area, and then Hendery pulls you beneath a pergola woven with wisteria, then right through a pair of glass double doors.

The room inside is shaded on one side but on the other side sunlight spills through windows set high on the wall. It’s quiet inside, just dust motes dancing through soft sunlight. There’s a piano and drums, a violin and cello, guitars and microphones and every instrument you can imagine.

“Father always had me study music. I think he thought it would calm me down as a child. Pretty sure it made me louder and didn’t teach me nearly as much discipline as he’d have liked.” Hendery walks away from you, trailing his fingers almost lovingly over the instruments he passes.

When he reaches the piano, he looks back at you.

“Can you play them all?” You ask.

“Most of them. Not always well.” He sits down at the piano bench. “Do you play?”

You shake your head no.

As a child you’d often dreamt of playing the piano. Not necessarily to become a master of it, but just simply because you enjoyed the sound and that watching a pianists fingers flowing smoothly over the ivory keys was mesmerizing. Your parents hadn’t been able to afford the lessons and when you once attempted to play the piano in the music room at your school, you’d realized it was a little more difficult than you’d imagined. So you’d given up and never looked back.

Until now.

You slide down beside Hendery on the bench. “No I don’t play. But if you do, I’d love to hear.”

Hendery smiles. “Anything in particular you’d like to request?” He flexes his fingers, stretching them in preparation.

Suddenly you can’t think of a single song. Your mind goes blank and you just gaze at Hendery, all lit up in a heavenly golden glow. He’s so handsome, and right then as you sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him in his favorite room of this massive home of his, you really look at him and feel an ache deep in your chest. A stupid, silly ache. Like you’re falling in love with this rich playboy who’s just using you so he doesn’t feel lonely.

When you don’t give him a song to play, just continuing to stare at him distractedly, Hendery laughs his goofy but wonderful laugh, and he starts playing anyway. It’s not a song you recognize, but it’s lovely all the same. After that he plays another and another, and you listen intently, amazed by how well he plays, watching his fingers move over the keys.

“You’re really good,” you tell him.

Hendery runs a hand through his hair, messing with it nervously. “Thanks. Part of me always dreamed of playing, pursuing music as some form of a career, but my father insists that I follow him with the business. A career in music wouldn’t allow that.”

“Do you sing?” You ask, nudging him. “I bet you have a lovely voice.”

Hendery laughs, the sound filling the whole room. “I can. I’m better at rapping. When I was younger, Xuxi, Dejun, and a couple other guys seriously considered forming a group. Father brought his fist down on that. Even though he’s the one that got me started on music in the first place. So now I just satisfy myself with coming in here to mess around sometimes.”

For the better part of the next hour, Hendery picks up different instruments, playing a bit for you on each one. He’s still actually humming along to a melody as you leave the music room, exiting back out under the wisteria. The sunlight of the early afternoon feels great, kissing your cheeks, the breeze pushing pleasantly warm air over your arms. You tilt your face up to feel it all the better.

Hours later you find yourself emulating that pose. Your face is turned up to the sight of Hendery standing on the second floor of the house, speaking to the crowd of partygoers. He’s decked out again, hands gleaming silver with rings and bracelets. A drunken couple of girls giggles beside you, falling over each other, and one of them mentions how sexy Guanheng looks with his hair like that.

You have to agree. Sex hair that he’d never fixed does look quite good on him.

You’d raked your fingers through it as he went down on you, sucking your life through your dick until a knock on the door of his suite of rooms announced the arrival of Xuxi and Dejun, who in turn announced that other party guests were starting to show up.

And now he presented his hair messed by your fingers in front of the whole party while you stood below, drinking something Hendery had shoved into your hands before he dashed up the stairs to make a speech.

He’d already introduced you around to a few people. Xuxi and Dejun, of course, and then also a singer, an actor, a producer, a rich kid whose daddy owned a car company and made the guy a racecar driver the minute he turned 18. All old friends, he told you, and as you looked at them and Hendery, you could see the connections, the constellation that they made. Age-old lights gleamed in their eyes.

You wanted to tell Hendery that he wasn’t nearly as alone as he might think. He was like all the stars in the night sky, part of something greater than they could see from where they stood.

The party raged on. You saw faces you’d only ever seen in entertainment spreads before, heard names that you’d written about. There were things going on there that you knew would fetch a pretty penny if you wrote about them, but though your hands itched to write, they were tied behind your back by your promise to Hendery. Nothing you saw tonight would make it to the gossip columns.

Even when you saw Sicheng, Hendery’s actor friend, flirting with a pretty young actress who was rumored to be dating an actor that she was filming a movie with, you kept your hands still. Even when he pulled her into his lap and she kissed his face and giggled, you just distracted yourself from the urge to write a news story by instead staring at Hendery, reminding yourself of the promise, distracting yourself with fantasies.

Hendery caught you looking a few times. It’s the fifth time as you’re looking at him over the edge of your glass that he grins back at you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “What’re you looking at?” He laughs, pulling you close enough that he can affectionately rub his head against yours.

“Just you,” you tell him.

Hendery keeps smiling a wide, loose smile that spreads wider than normal due to the alcohol. He slides his arm from your shoulders, instead laying a hand on your thigh. You stare at it, remembering the way his fingers had moved on the keys of the piano earlier, wishing that he would touch you as he’d touched that instrument, to master playing your strings and keys as well as he was with the instruments in that room.

“You really like him, don’t you?” The boy sitting across from you both says. You look up and see one of Hendery’s friends looking at the pair of you and how close you sit, the familiar way in which he touches you. “How long have you known each other?”

Xuxi butts in then, “Like two days. I caught him blowing Hendery in his closet when I was leaving yesterday. They didn’t seem too close, something about a phone, right?” He squints at you and you nod. That is what it had been. Then. But things had changed for you since then. “Clearly I was wrong, and you’ve gotten closer since I left. I thought we both were leaving, huh? Not fair that you traded me in your bed for him, Hendery.” He raises his eyebrows at you and Hendery.

Hendery’s hand leaves your thigh, and he grabs for the drink in Xuxi’s hand instead. “Fuck off. As if it means anything when we mess around, Xuxi? And it’s not like it’s a big deal.” He gestures between you and him, and then tilts his head back and downs the glass in one gulp.

You want him to lean back beside you, settling his warmth around you like a comfort in this strange atmosphere of his friends and his guests, but Hendery moves farther away, drowning himself for a few moments in a drink that someone hands to him. And then after that he leaves you there as he goes to talk to someone he spotted across the room.

The night had been going well.

Hendery kept his distance after that, winding deeper and deeper into the maze of the house, always fitting himself into the hearts of groups, dancing away any time that you finally spot him. You comfort yourself in the company of his producer friend, Kun, talking about some of the tracks and artists he’s been working with lately, talking about the time you did a story on him and his partner before he branched off to make a solo production company.

You try not to feel hurt that Hendery’s abandoned you at the party he invited you to stay for. But as the night grows later, edging toward dawn, Kun leaves the party, and you consider leaving as well. You did tell your boss you’d send him your story today, and Hendery’s not paying any attention to you, so maybe you should head home. You go in search of Hendery to tell him you’re leaving.

One of the pretty girls from earlier in the night has edged her way closer to him, and you find Hendery with this girl pressed up on him, perched in his lap. She’s laughing and clinging to him, and Hendery lets her. And then his eyes land on you. His arm on the girl’s waist tightens and she squeals in delight, kissing at his neck, giggling and murmuring sweet words to him, slipping her hand down between them so she can touch him.

His eyes slide from yours as he turns toward the girl, pulling her mouth to his.

You shouldn’t be upset. You knew what this was.

You were a hook up at the gala, a one night stand when you came to get your phone. Hendery is just a rich boy, a playboy who fucks around with anyone pretty who catches his eye. It’s not anything more than just a no-strings hook up when you’re with him. You have no right to feel upset by what you see.

But you do anyway.

You turn on your heel before you see anything else. You move through the party without noticing anyone or anything, brushing by people, knocking over something that luckily doesn’t break onto the ground (no matter how much you want it to, just to see something that looks the way you’re feeling right now—jagged and broken and out of place, all spread over the floor).

Already you’re out the door and halfway down the drive when you realize you don’t have your phone. Or your clothes. You’re still wearing Hendery’s borrowed clothes and you’d left your phone in his room, and you’ll be damned if you have to come back here for either of those reasons again.

You’re already stripping out of the clothes the second you step through the doors into his room, and before the door swings shut behind you, you hear footsteps, and then the door pushes open again, Hendery says your name.

You glance back at him, at the even more unkempt state of his hair and the way that his shirt’s collar is tugged askew. There’s a smear of that girl’s lipstick on his throat.

He says your name again.

“What? Why’d you leave her? It seemed you really liked her, Hendery. I mean, please, don’t let me leaving ruin the fun you were about to have.” You say. “I’m just getting my phone and my clothes and then I’ll be gone, and you can go back to using sex as a coping mechanism and a means of distancing yourself from people who want to be close to you. Have you ever thought maybe you want to be alone? That you cause this for yourself by pushing people away, not letting them get close to you?”

You drop his borrowed shirt over the back of a chair in his sitting room, and you keep walking toward the bedroom. You hear him following you.

“Maybe,” you continue, “you don’t want to be vulnerable and open. You just want to keep to your dark broodiness, you want to keep yourself isolated so you have something you can complain about because you’re so incomprehensibly wealthy that you don’t have any other problems to deal with, so you’ve created one for yourself.”

You drop the pants, and then reach for your own clothes that are piled right where you left them the day before. His bedsheets are still a mess, you can see a gross cumstain on the sheets, and you freeze, remembering for a moment how it had felt as he fucked you on his bed, his body covering yours from behind, your hips grinding against the sheets, his teeth digging into your shoulder and neck, and the way you’d moaned at the feel of his cock pounding inside you, right against your prostate.

A hand touches yours, and Hendery brings you around to face him.

“Are you really going to leave?” His voice sounds small. “Don’t go.”

He dips forward as if to kiss you, to reel you back in to his orbit so easily. But you push at his shoulders, and say, “This is what I’m talking about. You’re using sex to make yourself feel better, to manipulate people into getting close. But you don’t want anyone to stay.”

“Please?” Hendery latches onto your hand again. “Stay. The chef’s already up, he’ll make us whatever we order, anything at all. Name the most delicious thing you can think of, and I’ll send down for him to make it. Stay for breakfast.”

“Hendery.” You groan, and push at his chest again. “I don’t care about that. I’m going to leave because I need to go home and sleep so I can finish my story for my boss. I’ll grab a burger on my way home, a cheap, disgustingly greasy burger. Why don’t you go find that pretty girl who was so eager to get into your pants. Or Xuxi, you’ve already made it obvious that he’s fine with warming your bed. Or I’m sure you’ve still got guests down there who would be so excited to have you fuck them or throw your wealth at them. And even if not, you’ve got all this around you, I’m sure you can preoccupy yourself somehow. Maybe count all that jewelry in your closet, but don’t pretend for a second that you want me to stay because I actually mean something to you.”

“I don’t care about all that! I don’t want it!” Hendery cries in frustration as he pulls the rings from his fingers and throws them across the room. You hear them bouncing and plinking off the tiles and the wall and the windows. “Don’t you get it? Haven’t I already made it clear? All of this money doesn’t do a damn thing for me! I’m still lonely. I still feel like no one appreciates me for anything other than my money or for sex. They all are only interested in what I can give them!”

But then he steps forward, his hand touches your cheek, and then he touches the other, cupping your face between his hands. And in a voice far gentler than the one he’d just been using, Hendery says, “Except for you. You are the first person I’ve met in I don’t even know how long who’s made me feel like I’m more. The way you look at me, I don’t feel like you’re looking at just me on the surface, you’re looking deeper. Maybe that’s a lame thing to say, but I feel like a person when I’m with you. Like I can feel things and want things, like I don’t have to give and give and give. I can see that you want me, that you love the way I make you feel when we have sex, but it’s not like that’s all I see when you look at me. You listen. Even when I’m talking absolute nonsense about stories of dragons in the sky, when I’m banging out a bad tune on the piano, anything I’ve said, you’ve listened.

“And you’re right. I do use sex to cope, to fill in this gaping hole of loneliness, and I fail every time and I’m still hollow and aching. I want to have people close to me, but it scares me. I haven’t— I haven’t been open with someone totally in years and I got hurt, and maybe I shouldn’t be telling you all this because we don’t really know each other well and you’re a reporter so if things go wrong then you’ve got this shit to write a story about. But I opened up and got hurt and I’m so lonely and tired of feeling used, and you’re the one person I’ve met in so long who doesn’t make me feel like a vending machine for what other people want of me.

“So stay. Please stay.” Hendery drops his forehead against yours.

And just like that, you do.

Not because he wants you to. Not because of that whole eloquent speech (well, okay, partially because of both of those things), but you stay because you want to. Because over the last approximately thirty-two hours that you’ve spent with Hendery, you got to see a side of him that you really liked. The boy behind the mask his father made for him. A boy who’s more than just lonely, but a boy who wants to be heard and seen, who wants to be loved for who he is.

You don’t know what that trauma is from his past that hurt him so he pushes people away while desperately begging them to come closer. All you know is that with his hands on your cheeks and his forehead against yours, you slide your arms around his waist and never want to let him go again.

Dawn finds you wrapped together in the garden, a thick blanket draped around both of you as you sit together and enjoy cheap, disgustingly greasy burgers from a 24 hours place that’s not too far off, just a short drive there and back. You rest your head on Hendery’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of nature waking, and the snores of a few partiers who passed out on the patio nearby.

Eventually, as Hendery starts nodding off, you convince him up onto his feet as the first rays of sunlight spread across the lawn, and together you return to his room, crawling into bed with dew still wet on your toes.

Hendery really doesn’t like it when you roll out of bed when the clock shows it’s nearly noon. He groans and reaches for you, trying to grab onto any part of you to pull you back in, but you dance out of his reach.

“I really do have to go home. If I want to keep my job, I can’t miss a deadline. I’m already cutting it dangerously close.” You lean back in and kiss his forehead, earning yourself a handsome smile from him. “I’ll see you later, right?”

Hendery nods. “Yeah, I’m not pushing you away. Hey.” He grabs onto your hand, squeezing. “I am really, really sorry about things. I like you, I genuinely truly like you, and you’re totally right about my coping mechanism and everything, and I’m stupid for trying to hook up with that girl last night when I’m fully aware of how much I like you. Like, a crazy amount. I promise,” he says so honestly and soberly that your heart beats faster, “That I am going to try my hardest to not do anything that will mess this up. So, please, come back after you’ve written a wonderful story about my father’s gala and the handsome and charming Huang Guanheng that you met there.”

A week later you find yourself back in Hendery’s arms, though this time he’s at your humble abode, squeezed into your bed, both of you pretending that you can’t hear your upstairs neighbor yelling at her husband.

“It’s not as nice as your house.” You apologized when you let Hendery in, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes moved over every square inch of your apartment. The small kitchen, the living room which was a futon and a coffee table that was covered with half-drunk coffee mugs, old drafts of stories your editor had sent you all marked up in red with necessary revisions, your laptop, a goldfish bowl that was now home to a lovely little cactus ever since your beta fish died, and a tall stack of books.

At the other end of your single-room apartment was a divider you’d drawn across the space to shield your bed from view if ever you decided to entertain anyone. Not that the divider seemed to block Hendery’s curiosity, and a few seconds after he stepped inside he was guiding you by the hand toward your own bed. It took no time to strip each other and then Hendery had you on your back, your fingers twisted in his hair as he sucked your cock.

Hendery’s mouth was heaven, his talent with his tongue left you speechless, tugging on his hair in a way that had him moaning in delight, and just as you’re riding up to the edge of your orgasm with your hips rocking up off the bed, Hendery pulls off, dropping all contact.

You gasp and sit up, ready to whine and beg, but Hendery’s just stepping back to root through his pocket for a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask, clenching your bedsheets in your fingers. “I have condoms. Get back over here.” You reach under the edge of your bed, bringing out a condom as well as a bottle of lube. Hendery drops his pants back on the floor, and you tip back onto your back, spreading your knees apart for him to fit between your legs.

You look up at your ceiling as you listen to Hendery popping the cap on the bottle of lube, squirting some out onto his fingers. He kisses your thighs, nipping at them lightly with his teeth as he works the lube over his fingers, warming it up a bit before he carefully eases one finger inside you, opening you up for him, sucking at your cock once again.

In no time, Hendery has you close again.Three fingers in, his mouth working magic on you as well. You tug and pull on his hair, dragging him up off your cock, and Hendery kisses a fiery trail up your body until he reaches your lips.

“I need you. Now.” You moan.

Hendery swiftly rolls the condom down his length, then pulls you up as he lies down. “I want you to ride, Daddy.”

Too eager to have him inside of you, you immediately move to straddle him, sitting right down on him. Hendery wraps his hand around your dick, swiping his thumb over your tip, cooing at you and telling you how good you look riding Daddy’s cock. It’s hard to not focus on just getting yourself off.

The way Hendery’s hitting so deep inside you, his cock brushing past your prostate each time you drop your hips back on him. And his hand on your cock, jerking you off at the same pace as you’re riding him. It’s all too much.

“Hendery!” You cry out, so close to your orgasm. He pulls his hand away, instead grabbing at your hips, holding you right where he wants you so he can thrust up into you, fucking you with hard, quick thrusts that soon have you cumming untouched onto his belly. And as soon as you’ve finished, he’s touching you again, a hand wrapped around your spent, sensitive cock, and he continues fucking you at a brutal pace.

You’re certain your neighbors can probably hear you, but you can’t hold in your moans, whimpers of oversensitivity.

Hendery nails your prostate with each thrust, and your cock keeps blurting out drops of cum onto his belly, his hand milking you for all you’ve got.

When you can take no more, you collapse on top of him, and Hendery just holds your hips tighter and chases his own orgasm, moaning in your ear, saying, “You feel so right around Daddy’s cock. God, so tight. Like you were made for me.”

You moan and tuck your face into his shoulder, biting his skin lightly between your teeth as Hendery cums. His body shudders under you, his cock jerking and filling the condom inside you, and you cum again too at the feeling, just adding more to the sticky mess on your bellies.

Hendery wraps his arms around you and you stay like that, dozing off with him still buried inside you. It’s only when your neighbors start arguing that you wake, and Hendery reluctantly leaves the bed at last to dispose of the condom.

You roll over and bundle up in your sheets, then you notice him reaching for his clothes. “What are you doing? Stay.”

You throw back the blankets, ready to forcefully pull Hendery back into bed with you, but you find that unnecessary as he drops his clothes and tackles you back into bed as if all he’d been waiting on was an invitation to stay. As if all he wanted was to be wanted in return.

This time you wrap your arms around him, his head on your shoulder as you play with his hair, and you tell him that later you’ll make dinner for him, there’s a recipe you saw online you wanted to try out. Hendery clings to you, presses a smile against your bare skin, and tells you, “I can’t wait.”

And later, when you do finally drag yourselves out of bed (after another round or two), you cook dinner with Hendery hovering at your side, not quite sure how to help you but eagerly wanting to take part. And so what if it doesn’t turn out quite the way you want it? A little bit burnt around the edges, a dash or eight too much salt. You and Hendery made it together and you eat it together and laugh and then drown out the flavor with the alcohol he digs out for you.

That night, after drinking yourselves to a point where you both feel light and happy, Hendery lets you do whatever you want with him. He lets you spread him out on your bed so you can kiss over every inch of him. He sighs with pleasure when you drip wine over his chest and lick it off his skin, drinking it from the hollow of his throat.

Hendery cums embarrassingly quick when you grind against him, licking and sucking at his throat and murmuring dirty things against his skin, whimpering how needy you are for Daddy’s cock to fill you up again.

He fucks you later against the window, telling you that he wants the whole city to see how you look with him inside you, and you look at your reflection in the glass.

You see Hendery behind you, like the first time you were together, but this time his face isn’t cold indifference just trying to feel something. No, this time Hendery’s eyes burn with passion, his face shows the strain of trying not to cum again already as your walls flutter and clench around him.

This time Hendery touches you all over, his fingers leaving burning trails over your skin, like asteroid tails on the night sky.

This time Hendery kisses your neck and pulls you back against him so he can reach around you and palm at your cock, so he can feel it when you cum, dripping down over his fingers, painting the window.

This time Hendery buries his face against your shoulder and doesn’t let go. He doesn’t put a mask on to hide his face from you. He just holds you close enough that you can feel his heart beating against your back.

When you wake in the morning, it’s to the feel of Hendery slipping back into bed. His socks touch your bare leg. Cold fingertips skim your back, and you shiver, flinching away. His breath warms your shoulder and he sneaks his cold hand once more onto your skin, over your belly where he presses his palm flat as he whispers to you, “I got breakfast.”

You open one eye and look at him. There’s a flush in his cheeks like he’d run up the stairs. He’s wearing your jacket.

“How did you get back inside?” You yawn and roll over, stretching your arms up and then flopping into place on top of Hendery’s chest.

“An older lady was leaving just as I was coming back. She let me in.” Hendery pokes at you. “But I brought breakfast back. Get up and come eat it.”

Everything feels so domestic as you sit down on your futon with Hendery. He unloads the breakfast. You open your laptop, checking your emails to see if your editor has any news for you. You eat together. Hendery tells you about his dream from last night about being on an airplane, and something about a pregnant woman and a cat. It’s simple and easy and you both bask in the pleasure of each other’s company.

Hendery’s in the middle of pulling you apart on his fingers, swallowing your moans as he stretches your hole wider, when there’s a knock on the door of his rooms. You whine as he rolls you off of him, drags the sheet up to cover you both, and calls for whoever it is to enter.

The man who comes inside is no one you've ever met, but you recognize him all the same. Hendery’s father.

His eyes land on you first, half-hidden in his son’s bed, and then he looks at Hendery. “You’ve been keeping busy while I was away. My assistant says you haven’t been into the office.”

It’s been weeks that this has been going on with Hendery. You’ve spent nearly every day together to at least some degree, and you’ve definitely not heard him say anything about going into the office. Instead the two of you have mostly been spending time together, in between making out and having sex, you’ve also been watching movies together, teaching Hendery how to cook, he’s started teaching you a bit on the piano. You’ve hung out with some of his friends, particularly Kun, the producer, as you convinced both of them to try to make some music together, and Hendery dove headfirst eagerly into it, and Kun was extremely supportive.

But now, with Hendery’s father standing in front of the pair of you, you can already see that light that’s been growing steadily brighter in Hendery diminishing again. You slide a hand onto his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. His father notices.

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on fucking whatever pretty creature slithers into your bed, Guanheng, maybe then you wouldn’t be such a disappointment,” his father says.

Hendery drops his head forward, not looking at his father anymore.

But you do. You glare at the older man. “Just because he’s not following the rigid life you chose for him doesn’t make him a disappointment. Hendery is amazing. He’s incredibly talented and smart, and he doesn’t need you to tell him how to succeed.”

Hendery grabs your hand tightly. “Stop.”

You look at him, at the downtrodden look on his face. He jerks his head. You close your mouth, but you have so much more you want to say. Hendery is a fantastic person. His father is an asshole. You want to say as much, but you know that it’s not what Hendery wants or needs right now.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Hendery ducks his head lower in apology. “I allowed myself to get distracted. I’ll come by this office this afternoon.”

His father nods and then turns and leaves the room. The door of the suite slams shut behind him, and as soon as it does, Hendery slumps back into the pillows.

“Hendery....”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “Don’t.”

You wish you could leave it. Hendery clearly doesn’t want to talk about what just happened. But you do.

“Why do you let him walk all over you like that? If you don’t want to follow him in the business then don’t.” You crinkle the bedsheets up between your fingers. “Follow music. Or something else you’re passionate about. Don’t make yourself miserable to make your father or anyone else happy.”

Hendery groans and rolls away, rising out of bed so he can pace. You watch him like this, admiring his body in the clear light streaming through the windows. He rakes his fingers through his hair. “You don’t understand what it’s like. The business is my future. It always has been, and my father makes sure that it always will be.”

You frown and scoot to the edge of the bed to be closer to him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says as he comes to stand still in front of you, and continues, “that my father has always been the one controlling my life. He chose my friends. He chose my schooling and my teachers. He chose my first girlfriend. It was up to him to approve of anyone that I tried a relationship with, and it was my father who ruined the first real relationship I had, the only time I’ve ever fallen in love.”

You wait, knowing he’ll elaborate if he wants to.

Hendery continues without you having to prompt him for more. “The autumn I turned eighteen, I fell in love with a girl a year older than me. Father had called her in to tutor me in economics, but I was already kinda, I guess, what everyone calls me. A playboy, fuckboy, manwhore. All of the above.” He pushes his fingers nervously through his hair again, squinting as he stares past you out the window into the bright sunlight. “Anyway, I managed to seduce her, so lessons were less likely to be about economics and much more about anatomy. But then it turned slowly from sex and pretending that we were learning economics, to me actually taking her out on dates, and I fell in love with her and she, like you, tried to convince me that I didn’t need my father or the business. She didn’t know about my music, but she tried showing me different career paths. And then one day while she was meant to be tutoring me, Father walked in and found us together and a little bit more digging revealed what she’d been telling me, trying to convince me to do. And then she broke up with me, which was devastating in itself, but then Father told me that he’d paid her to leave me. Just one check from him was enough to eliminate everything between us. And then, to top it all off, a few weeks later she was back, actually tutoring me, and then she became my latest, newest model of a stepmother. She lived it up rich for a few months until Father grew tired of her.”

“I still don’t understand why that means that you have to do something that you’re so dispassionate about?” You ask.

Hendery sinks down to his knees, and you watch as he lays his head on your lap. “Because. He’ll find a way to ruin anything good I try to make for myself outside of what he wants.” He takes your hand and brings it to the back of his head, so you begin stroking his hair. “It hasn’t really mattered in a long time. Not since her. He didn’t care if I was fucking around, if I was jetting off to parties on the other side of the world as long as he knows there are other wealthy people there to make connections with. He doesn’t care as long as whatever I do will profit him in the end. And it didn't matter because up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t have anything for him to ruin because there was nothing I loved enough for it to matter. But then I met you.”

You pause, your fingers going still in his hair, your breath catching in your throat.

Hendery, the once cold and indifferent playboy you’d let fuck you in the bathroom for a fun night, now tilts his head in your lap and looks up at you so softly, his gaze tender and warm on your face.

“I love you,” Hendery tells you in a voice so quiet and small that it could almost get lost in this room. “Please don’t leave me.”

You can’t help the noise you make. One of alarm and sadness and reassurance and love and need. You curl your fingers against whatever part of Hendery you can touch, and you pull him up. He climbs back into the bed, over you, covering your body with his, and then his mouth is smooth and sweet on yours.

“I love you,” you tell him too, feeling the truth of it swelling, burning and beating in your chest.

And Hendery repeats, “Don’t leave me.”

You know there’s such a depth behind those words. Now, it’s more than just a lonely boy who doesn’t want to sleep alone. More than a lonely boy who sees someone who finally listens and sees him too for who he really is beneath his facade. Now, you hear the plea of a broken-hearted boy who has had the love bought and sold from right between his fingertips.

You hold his face in your hands. “Never,” you promise, and seal it with a kiss.

Hendery’s money is the last thing on your mind. You don’t care one bit for it. You like going on cheap dates with him to the movies on a Tuesday afternoon when it’s cheapest, even if the movies showing are only the bad ones. You amuse yourself by taking him with you on public transportation, both of you leaning together and making up stories about the other passengers; some of them are so funny that you both burst into laughter, drawing odd looks from everyone around you. You enjoy lazing about in the garden of his home, sunbathing beside the pond, or sitting beside the pool while you write your latest entertainment story, Hendery swimming laps and singing up at the sky, his voice echoing off the side of the hostage and the trees and hedges on the property.

His father doesn’t like you, and all three of you know that.

He doesn’t hide it.

When you sneak down from Hendery’s bedroom at midnight to steal a snack from the refrigerator, and his father is just concluding a video call, and you bump into him as he comes out of his office, he just scowls at you. When you and Hendery are sitting at the pool with Kun and Xuxi and Dejun, laughing and filming Hendery for a music video for the song he and Kun have put together (with a little vocal assist from Dejun), his father nearly explodes. And while you and the other three boys flee back to the safety of the music room, you can hear Hendery’s father shouting about how music isn’t a viable career choice, that it’s useless.

Hours later, Hendery fucks you until you’re both numb from the intensity of multiple orgasms, and he wraps himself so tightly around you, that you’re not sure the knots of his fingers with yours will ever untangle.

And finally, after months, when Kun and Hendery have compiled a few songs, Kun wants to release the music as an EP.

Naturally, you encourage him to go for it.

And word of it gets back to his father.

Hendery’s just left your apartment one morning, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and you’ve just sat down to work on your latest story—an exclusive interview you’d snagged with the lead actors of an upcoming film that was slated to be a big hit at international film festivals. There’s a knock on your door, and at the same time as you hear it, you spot Hendery’s wallet left behind in the mess on your coffee table.

You grab it up and spring toward the door.

But when you open the door, it’s not Hendery standing on the other side.

“Mr. Huang?” You stare in confusion at Hendery’s father, looking so out-of-place on your doorstep. “Can I help you?”

“May I come in?” He asks, but he’s already stepping inside.

He enters your apartment and looks around with such a judgmental eye that you almost just walk out your door to avoid whatever harsh words are surely about to come out of his mouth. But you stick firmly to your spot, letting the door swing shut as you stare at him.

He turns to face you after he’s had his fill of your apartment. “Mr. Y/L/N, I don’t know what your parents taught you about respecting them, but I have always demanded absolute respect from my son. Guanheng has always been a distracted boy, easily caught up in things, finding himself miles away from where he needs to be. But he’s always respected me and the wishes I have for his path in life. I have done my best to keep him on the straight and narrow, but clearly, there are times when he doesn’t heed my guidance.” He looks pointedly at you. “Right now, he is straying from the path, and it’s my duty to make sure he returns and won’t stray again. You understand?”

Yes, you understand what he’s saying. But no, you don’t agree with it.

“Mr. Y/L/N, it has come to my attention that you have been encouraging my son to pursue music, which is a fickle industry and not worthy of his time. It’s simply not a good path for him. That friend of his, Mr. Qian, his father has ties in the industry that gave him a great leg up when he began. Mr. Qian has a talented ear, and he lives up to the standards that his father set for him. But those same standards fall far below what I expect of Guanheng, you understand? Guanheng already has his path laid out before him, nice and safe and smooth from his birth until his death. Following me into the business means he’ll never have to worry about a thing.”

On some level you know that, but does a safe, boring life have to take precedence over an uncertain, yet passionate life?

Hendery’s father looks you straight in the eye and says, “This dangerous path you’re leading him on is unacceptable. I am willing to give you ten million dollars if you will drop this subject and leave my son alone. Ten million, all yours, to just stay out of my son’s life and stop ruining it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. “Are you kidding? You think I am the one ruining his life by encouraging him, showing him positivity and love, showing an interest in the things that he enjoys, rather than just squashing them out of him until his life is flat and dull and lonely? Sir, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but you are the one ruining his life.” You take a step back, open the door of your apartment, and gesture out of it. “I love your son. Completely. No amount of money or bribery you can offer will convince me to break his heart. Please leave.”

You don’t wait to watch him go. You walk away from the door and back over to where you left your phone. You immediately pick it up and call Hendery. You tell him about what just happened, not to start any shit between him and his father, but just because you feel that being open and honest about what just happened is crucial. You want him to know that you will never leave him, that you don’t want to leave him.

The warmth of summer is finally sticking, penetrating even the house, and you and Hendery hang outside, floating on your backs in the pool or seeking the coolest patch of shade in the garden.

He’s stretched out on his back in a shady patch of grass as you look down into the koi fish pond nearby. You hear a splash and when you look over you see a little frog. He squirms when you pick him up, but then he sits in your palm, a soft damp little body, quivering in your palm. You walk towards Hendery to show him, but as soon as you call his name and are within a few feet of him, Hendery swears and scrambles away.

“What are you doing with that? Oh my god! Put it back!” He runs as far away as he can while he can still see you to make sure that you walk back to the pond and leave the frog there.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh. “I didn’t know you were scared of frogs.” You wipe your hands off on your shorts and settle down in the shade, beckoning him over to join you. He comes over cautiously, as if he thinks you’re going to pull another frog out of nowhere. “Hendery, I’m sorry.”

He makes a face at you and finally does come closer, sitting with his legs folded in front of him, and you take that opportunity to lay your head in his lap.

“What else are you afraid of?” You ask. “Or is it just frogs?”

“Toads, too. And heights. Sometimes the dark, but only really pitch black dark, like in a cave or somewhere with zero light penetration.” He shivers. “And you know, also, being lonely. Losing you.”

You make a face up at him. “Cheesy.” You grab his hand, holding it over your heart. “But same. I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared of the dark, needles, and this one ridiculous scary story a friend told me when I was a kid.” You shudder just remembering the story, unable to even bring yourself to put it to words. “But we’ve got each other, right? I’ll keep you safe from frogs, and you can keep me safe from needles. But we’ll both have to do something about the dark.”

You’re still laying like that in the grass when afternoon begins to sink towards evening, the sun turning the sky amber, the grass striped emerald and navy. The first early stars begin to peek through.

And that’s when Hendery’s father strolls out into the garden. He’s on his phone, so he doesn’t seem to notice either of you at first, but Hendery stiffens.

“Have you spoken to him yet?” You ask. Hendery was so angry that day when you called to tell him about the bribe his father had offered you to leave him. You were so sure that a nasty argument was going to ensue, but Hendery hadn’t said anything to you about it yet.

“No, I’ve been too angry.” Hendery’s fingers clench, flexing against your chest. “And he’s been away. Plus I’m a little bit scared.”

You lay your hand reassuringly over his. “Don’t be afraid. You can’t let him control your life.”

Hendery nods, and you watch his face as a look of pure determination and strong will takes over. He taps your shoulder, and you sit up so he’s free to get to his feet.

You watch Hendery strut across the garden and come up to his father who is still on the phone. You hear him say, “Father.” The older man holds up a finger, not even sparing Hendery a glance. Hendery looks back at you, then takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and he faces his father again. “Father, I’m marrying Y/N and we’re moving to America.”

Both are outright lies, but they send a thrill through you all the same. You imagine marrying Hendery in a small, formal ceremony. Owning a home together, moving somewhere new together, or just traveling the world together and experiencing all the great places there are to see.

The fantasy fades as you realize that his words caught his father’s attention too.

“I’ll call you back,” he says into his phone, and then all of his attention is on his son. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

You watch as Hendery tenses his shoulders, clenches his fists tightly at his sides, and tells his father, “I’m marrying him because I love him, and I’m never going to be alone again because of something you’ve done.”

His father looks from Hendery to you, and then back at Hendery. “Do you think you’re really going to be happy like that? Married to a mediocre reporter? And what if I cut you off?”

“I’d rather be poor and happy than always second-guessing the motives of people who get close to me.” Hendery spits back. “At least I know he won’t betray me for money, not ten million dollars, not a billion, not for all the stars in the sky. I just want to be happy, Father. He supports me, from the day we met, he’s supported me in pursuing music. I love making music. Kun and I have been working together to produce some stuff, and I want to release it. If it flops, then it flops, and I’ll just continue making music for me and anyone who wants it. If it’s successful, then that’s even better. But I just want to try to be happy, and you’ve made it clear time and again that that is not something you want for me.”

You can hear cars passing by on the road outside the property. Birds singing in the trees. But in the air between father and son, it is entirely silent for a few long seconds.

It feels like a private moment, something that you shouldn’t really be seeing even though for the past few months, it’s felt like everything has been building toward this moment. You want to look away, yet even when you do turn to look down at your hands, you can still hear them.

You hear Hendery’s father clear his throat and say a quiet, “Well.” Then it’s silent for another little while before he gathers together the words to say. “I do want you to be happy, Guanheng. I want you to be secure and happy, and that is always why I’ve pushed you toward this future I had planned. A nice stable future where you would never have to worry about anything, where you can be happy. Music is a hobby, not a job. And you fall in love with people who try to tell you that it’s a viable life choice, but it’s not, Guanheng. I’m just trying to protect you. Is following my footsteps into the business such an appalling thing? So horrible to you, so unsettling and disheartening, that you would leave me and disown me as your father?”

It sounds a bit like a guilt trip, in your opinion, but you keep your eyes on your hands, your mouth closed.

“You’re an adult, and maybe it’s time I let you make your own decisions, your own mistakes to learn from.” He clears his throat again. “I do want you to be happy. Maybe I don’t show it in the proper ways, but I mean it.”

You lift your head then, just checking on them. And as you look, you catch his father’s eye.

He’s still looking at you as he says, “Release your music, Guanheng. Marry your boyfriend. But I don’t want you to give up on the company. If music falls through, you’re taking a job in the company, and that’s the last I’ll hear of it. Be happy, but be secure in your future too.”

Hendery relaxes. Those tense knots in his body all loosen at once. “Thank you.”

And then you watch as his father claps a hand down on Hendery’s shoulder, then draws him in for a hug.

“Your mother always loved music too.” The words are spoken quietly, intended only for Hendery, but the garden is so silent you can’t help but overhear. “I guess you got that from her.”

He pulls out of the hug abruptly and walks back inside, leaving Hendery frozen in his spot. You push up to your feet and go to join him, wrapping your arms around him.

“He never talks about my mother.” Hendery tells you. “And he said yes? Are we sure that’s my father?”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Are you happy?”

“Beyond. I should call Kun, tell him to go ahead.” He reaches for his phone, and as he scrolls through it for Kun’s contact, he looks up to meet your eyes. “And I wasn’t lying, you know. I do believe I want to marry you.”

“I want that too.”

And after Hendery calls Kun, after they celebrate and excitedly talk over the phone for like an hour and a half while the nighttime settles around you. After it all, it’s just you and Hendery, stretched out together in the now mild summer night, looking up at the stars.

“Remember that first night?” Hendery asks you. “Do you remember the stories I told you?”

You look up at the constellations visible overhead, all those tiny stars millions of lightyears away, the patterns that they make from your viewpoint down here. “I remember. I remember the look on your face as you told the stories to me, the way that you looked up at the stars, like all you wanted was to be part of something great like them.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. You were just telling me how lonely you were, and you looked at the stars like you were jealous that they were never lonely, that they’re a part of a constellation, of a story.” You roll up onto your elbows so you can look down at Hendery. “You know, you’ve never really been alone? I’ve watched you, Hendery, the way that you are with your friends. The seven of you make a constellation of your own, and they’re all drawn into the gravity of you. Just like me. Caught in your orbit.”

“Are you saying I’m a star?” Hendery laughs. Then he teases, “You gonna make a wish on me?”

Leaning down to kiss him, you stop just a breath away from his lips. “Oh, Hendery, I’ve already made countless wishes on you, and I’m pretty sure they’re all coming true.”

And when Hendery lifts his head from the grass so his lips meet yours, that kiss feels like a new wish, burning bright in the sky.

a/n: okay this took me a little longer than it was meant to. I originally started out making this a drabble in response to this message: Aksdhgfdj Hendery the “rich playboy who would definitely treat you right for a few nights” I would like to say I’m here for IT! which was in response to what I said about how Hendery looked during this periscope he did with Xiaojun, like black on black is truly a god-tier look for Hendery (this is only made truer after I saw him during the Wayv Beyond Live concert like oh my god I was dying of thirst)

Anyway, as usual, thank you if you read all this mess. I’m pretty sure there are a few spots that are a little messy, but if you read it all, I still really really appreciate it 💗 comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated thank you!! 💗💗💗

#hendery #hendery smut #hendery fics #wayv #wayv smut #wayv fics

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agentsoftie · 4 years

Text

Sleepless Nights ( S.R ) p.2

summary: Y/N and Reid aren’t the most fond of each other. So what happens when sleep, have to share a bed, and get married?

pairing: Y/N x Spencer Reid

a/n: a/n: AHH okay so here it is! It’s my first au so it’s probably not the best. But big thanks to @anepiphany! Ani baby none of this would be happening without you! Thank you for you tips and making me not go insane! Also pls tell me if I slept something wrong cuz like, your girl not the best when it comes to it. Also there will def be a loophole somewhere in my case and if you find one, just let it slide because life is filled with loopholes ❤️ also this is gonna be a two parter! ( this is the second part )

warnings: mentions of a case, angst and blood (the smallest amount), fluff really though

also if you want to be in my permanent taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

Remember to like and reblog

“So today happened,” you say while you got into bed.

Yeah, today happened. So, I guess we're gonna do this thing huh,”

Wait, is he asking me out? you think to yourself. No dumbass of course he isn't. He's talking about the event thing. you say to yourself mentally. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“So, sleep huh.” He asked awkwardly.

“What?”

“You know, sleep. Like us, together. No, wait t-that came out wrong. I meant like we’re gonna sleep, but ike together on the same bed. But if you're not tired then we-” He got cut off by you when you grabbed his arm. Immediately he looked down at your hand and then up. He looked like he had just seen a ghost and gotten an A in a class you were failing at, at the same time.

“Breathe, just breathe. How ‘bout you take a shower huh.” You say in an airy voice while still holding onto his arm.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, a shower. That sounds good.” He said, forcing you to let go of his hand.

-------

It takes him 10 minutes to finish taking his shower. Tonight he comes out wearing another pair of basketball shorts and another tee. It really makes you wonder if all he goes to sleep in is a pair of shorts and a tee. Like really Reid come on. You have money, use it on some proper pj’s. Although you're one to argue wearing another pair of shorts and a loose crop top.

“You said last night that there was no hot water so it took you ten minutes, well this time there still was and it again still (italicize) took you ten minutes. Like what the fuck!”

“I'm not really one for hot water. But my statement last night still remains true, you took up the hot water.”

“ Reid, this is a hotel. They almost always have hot water running.”

“Okay well, I don’t care!”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“Ha, so you admit it!”

“Admit what?”

“That I’m smarter than you!”

“Well in certain areas, yes,” you said in an annoyed tone. He was smirking at your struggle for answering. “Ugh, can we just go to sleep.” You say not wanting to continue this conversation.

--------

You woke up to the sound of rain pouring outside. The skies were as gray as a child on a monday. You felt something on your stomach and to your surprise that feeling was a man known as Dr. Spencer freaking Reid. He was laying on you with his head right under your chin. You were holding his hand and your legs were intertwined with his again. You can't remember what happened last night to lead up to this, but what's done is done. The person you've been pining over for the last 3 years was here laying on you and looking like a fucking god.

Your phone started to ring causing him to wake up.

“Emily? Oh, okay yeah, I'll be there in 20.” She told you to go to the address that she had sent you. Saying to bring Reid with you to get your outfits for tonight. “Reid, come on we gotta go.” You say looking down at the art that was placed in front of you.

“No, I don't wanna leave. I just wanna sleep.” You had never seen this side to him before. So soft and sweet. Was the universe trying to make you fall for him? If so, then it was working.

“No come on, we have to get our outfits for tonight. We have to get ready and eat something. So come on, get up.” you say trying to get up but failing because he holds you back.

“No. sleep.” He mumbles half awake.

“Spencer, how ‘bout this. How about you sleep for a little until I take a shower and stuff. Then you can get up.”

“Okay, fine.” And with that he was out, leaving you go gaze over the literal form of perfection.

------

“Y/L/N how long does it take to get changed?” Reid yelled.

“Oh will you shush!”

“Geez, no need to get so mean.”

“Iswear I will backhand you so hard if you don't shut up!” You say while walking out. And at the sight of seeing you he was speechless. Staring at you like you had something stuck in your teeth. “What?” You say looking down at your black floor length gown.

“No n-nothing. It's just-”

“Just what?”

“You look good in that dress.”

You looked down immediately after he said that fearing he would see the blush. He did. “Yeah well, you look good too.” you say while moving your hands after the redness was gone.

“I know.” He said, smirking causing you to make a sarcastic face.

“Okay, well we have to go now or Hotch will literally kill us.”

“You. He’ll kill you.” He says while walking out of the door.

“And you would just love that, wouldn't you.” You say following him out.

————

“Reid, you have your gun?”Hotch askes.

“Yes.” He said.

“Wait, where should I put mine?” You ask while holding your gun.

“Oh, you see, you're not going to have one.” JJ says while taking your gun away slowly.

“Then what the hell am i going to use as self defence?”

“You're a badass, you'll figure it out.” Emily says suggestively.

“Damn straight.” You say smiling causing her and JJ to laugh. Reid was not impressed.

“Okay, these glasses have a secret video camera in them sending footage to Garcia once you turn it on. So whatever you do, don't take these off.” Hotch says while handing Reid a pair of glasses that match his suit. “And Y/L/N this is your “wedding ring.” It has a video camera in the diamond so try to keep your hand up and try to make it as visible to people as possible.” He says while handing you the ring.

“Okay you're married, so act like it!” Rossi says before you two leave.

“Yeah, you both better be so in love it makes someone sick.” Emily adds.

“Yes mom. Yes dad.” You say jokingly.

“Okay and before you go, here are your earpieces. And we’ll be near the building if anything happens.” JJ says.

-------

“Y/N, put your left hand on Spencer’s arm.” Garcia says through the earpiece. And you did exactly that. “Okay, now be affectionate.”

“Pen how should we do that.” You say while looking at Reid so it looked like you were talking to someone.

“I don't know? Spencer, kiss her.”

And then bam! Before you knew it, his lips were on yours. You didn't know how to react. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you in making the kiss even stronger. You then put your hands in his hair and pulled at it a little. And at that moment it was as if the world stopped. As if time froze and fireworks went off. And then all of a sudden he pulled away and you looked down.

“Cherry or Strawberry?” He asks as if nothing just happened.

“I uh- strawberry.”

“Pardon me, but I couldn't help but notice that beautiful ring.” Says a guy approaching you.

“Oh thank you! It's very gorgeous isn't it!”You say while looking down at the ring then bringing your hand up.

“But not as gorgeous as you honey.” Reid says while looking at you. Oh god the things he did to your heart.

“Oh, uh how rude of me not to introduce myself. Im Ryan. Ryan Carson.” He says while holding out his hand for both of you to shake.

“Im Y/N Reid and this is my husband Spencer Reid.” You say while shaking his hand after Reid, as always, refused to. Y/N Reid had a nice ring to it, although you would never change your last name. But it sure had a nice ring to it which both you and Reid noticed.

“How long?” Ryan asked.

“3 months.”I said.

“When did you know?”

“The first time she read me The Fault In Our Stars. It was 2 something in the morning and I couldn't sleep so she read it to me. And I just couldn't stop thinking that this is the girl I’m gonna marry.” Reid said. Although that of course never happened, your heart wanted to explode. Right after he said that you kissed him on the cheek. He immediately turned red, but you didn't say anything.

“Wow. That’s just, wow.” Ryan said.

“Guys I think this guy is our friend Thomas. Well not think, know. He looks exactly the same. So make sure to play into his tactics or whatever. Therapy must cost a lot for you sweet children.” Garcia says.

“You know, I’m gonna propose to my girlfriend soon. Would you two help me pick out a ring?”

“What do you think Spenny?” You ask in a joking tone. Spenny, that was one you never used. You liked it, did so did he.

“Well, I think that it’s an amazing idea baby.”

You could see the anger in his eyes. The anger you get before taking a life. You could see that all he wanted to do was end your lives right then and there. Honestly you two could go into acting if all this death gets too heavy for you.

“Great! Then follow me right this way.” He says while leading you to the elevator. The ride was fairly quick but the entire time Reid had his and around your waist pulling you close to him. Oh god the things you would do to have him.

“Here’s my room.” he says while gesturing to you two to go in first. You saw two chairs and then heard the door slam behind you. You jumped at the sound and turned around to see him standing there with a gun pointing that both of you. “You don't want your wife to die a painful death, go sit down on the chair.” And he did exactly that. “Now you too bitch.” he says while pointing the gun at you. And you did exactly what he said.

“What do you want!” You yell at him while he ties you up.

“I want your happiness to end. If I can't have it, then how can you?”

“The world doesn't revolve around you!” And then before you knew it there was blood coming from your arm and a door kicked open.

“Y/N!” Spencer yells.

-------

“I’m okay, really I’m fine.” You say to the paramedic wrapping your arm.

“No you’re not! You got shot!” Spencer says.

“Okay well how about I leave you two along for a bit huh.” And with that the paramedic was gone.

“Oh look, you scared the paramedic.” You say while throwing your hands in the air.

“Okay and you scared me.”

“Spencer, I got shot. It happens.”

“Yes Y/N I know but it could have hit an artery and make you bleed out. I could have lost you. Why dont see that. If you die who am I gonna mentaly torture, who am I gonna talk to my mom about, who am I gonna love? I've already lost so much, I can't lose you too. I love you.”

“You love me?”

And just like that he grabbed you and put his lips on yours. You immediately put your hands in his hair and pulled hard, he didn't care though. He pulled you closer to him, making you come back with 10 times more force than before. You pulled apart due to lack of oxygen and he put his head against yours after catching his breath.

“Does that answer your question?” He says softly.

This time you kiss him. Not as aggressive as last time though. This was a small, yet equally as meaningful kiss. “I love you too.”

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly then all at once” – John Green

————

taglist: @ghostly-angelic, @marshmallowtraver, @heartbroken-writer, @yllwtaxi, @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks, @theamuz, @guessthatswhyiliveinhell, @alli1902, and @kaybeeboop

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reader x spencer reid #spencer reid #thanks to ani though #none of this would be happening without her #so thank you ani baby 🥺💕#mira writes

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i-will-be-your-ace · 4 years

Text

How a cruel live changes us.

Send me asks and prompts

Marinette always thought about her future. How she would be a famous designer, how her friends would always support her, about having a happy family.

Maybe being Ladybug, the hero of Paris, changed it a little, but it wasn't something drastic.

Marinette still imagined being a famous designer, having a beautiful family with Adrien, having her friends on her kids' birthdays, seeing her parents' proud faces, how they would play with their grandkids.

Right now, Marinette would only laugh at this thought. She was a kid back there. A young, naive kid.

Her life took a different path. More ruthless, more hollow for her own liking path.

Being Ladybug, having Lila, Hawkmoth and Mayura trying to break her, having a lot of responsibilities and, recently, being a guardian.

She couldn't talk with anyone about this. Telling Chat wouldn't help. How could he help her with her life without knowing her identity? She couldn't risk it.

She took two weeks off, hoping, praying that it would help her situation.

But Lila played dirty. Lila made Marinette's friends believe that she didn't want to see and talk to anyone because she didn't reply to Alya's, to her best friend's, question about wellbeing and offer of help after a whole day.

At first everyone brushed off italian's comments. But the seed of doubt was planted. And slowly it grew while Lila watered it with even more lies.

But that seed didn't grew in some hearts. It quickly died instead.

Alya, Adrien, Nino, Kim, Nathaniel, and Juleka knew that their blunette isn't like that.

They visited her as much as they could.

Hawkmoth was stronger each day. And each day Ladybug became even more afraid.

She was afraid to give out more than one miraculi. The fear that the same thing that happened with Master Fu will happen with her.

The pressure of her civilian life was too much. She needed one part of her life disappear.

Marinette talked with all of the kwamis. Including Plagg.

All of them argued, one louder than other. She calmly said that she won't disappear as human being, only as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She reminded them that after defeating Hawkmoth she'll still be a guardian. She will still have a big responsibility.

"It will benefit me if Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes missing. I didn't designed in a long time, and it became more of a hobby than a dream by now. And while it's painful to leave my friends and parents in the dark but I can't risk losing them to Hawkmoth or anything else. I know what I'm doing is stupid, cowardly and it's the worst decision I could take, but I still want to. I will be alright as long as I will be with you guys.".

By the end of her dialogue she and kwamis were crying.

This is how, during the summer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng went missing. This is a beginning of a story when Renee Desvormunds appeared.

Marinette is grateful to Master Fu. For all the things he done, for how much he helped her calm down. And for leaving to her his massage parlor and big amount of money for her to use.

Marinette changed her look with the help of kwamis. Now her skin was more pale that made her freckles stand out, her became eyes brighter, and somehow she grew in height. Her hair, now was white and wavy.

She was grateful that as Ladybug her look didn't change.

On the second day, when eighteen year old Marinette Dupain-Cheng didn't return home, everyone close to her tried to find her.

On the third day, it was police that tried to find her. Chat Noir helped too.

On the first week, all of Paris was informed about the missing girl.

On the first month, Tom and Sabine didn't know what to do.

On the second month, Tom and Sabine lost faith.

Mari studied all places where akumas were. Looked through all the videos of them. Observed everyone who was suspicious. All of this with help and thoughts from kwamis.

Chat was more quiet and sad each battle. She couldn't blame him and offered comfort whenever she could.

Each day Marinette, Renee, Ladybug was closer to finding Hawkmoth. And she will succeed.

The girl crossed out the people who were akumatized on Heroes Day because Scarletmoth was present during that event.

She looked through all akumas that weren't present.

Maybe Hawkmoth wasn't akumatized, but she needed to cross out as much people as possible. And what a surprise it was when she found out that her first suspect, Gabriel Agreste, was on the list.

Each small copy of Multimouse stayed near suspects.

At first everything seemed okay. Until she saw how Gabriel pressed buttons on the painting of his wife. Either he had a secret lair or was insane. Maybe both.

And what a coincidence that after he disappeared under the floor an akuma appeared.

On the next day each mini Multimouse was in his room. Waiting for him to put the combination so she could remember it.

Mari waited all day and he didn't go to the painting. And the fact that today no akumas appeared only fueled her suspicion.

On the next day fortune was on her side.

Mari memorized the code, and waited until Gabriel went to sleep.

And it was so boring. All day just looking at busy man and listening his and Nathalie's talk about business. She hated it.

Right now Multimouse pressed all the buttons, doing just like Agreste did. She was glad that she almost immediately went lower after the code, because she wasn't sure if this thing had an alarm in case someone failed to do it right.

Lowering all way down she indeed was in some lair. Suddenly there were a lot of butterflies flying around her.

Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth there's no denying it. Just like Mari thought in the beginning.

Now it was time to make a plan of how to get his and Mayura's miraculous.

But there was another problem. She didn't know how to get out from here. Damn it, now she had to wait at least eight hours. Great. Just great.

Mari detransformed and went to sleep. She didn't know what else to do, plus she needs to sleep either way. Even if she'll have hard time falling asleep on this hard, cold floor.

But when Mari was almost asleep, she remembered something really bad.

Gabriel will go here only to transform into Hawkmoth. And if Hawkmoth is present that means that there will be akuma and she will have to deal with it. But she can't transform into Ladybug when he's here, and Gabriel definitely will notice if someone leaves his lair.

" Mullo, Tikki?"

Both kwamis looked at her with tired eyes.

" Yes, Mari?"

" Could one of you bring Pollen and her miraculous?"

" I'll be quick." And with that Tikki was gone.

After what felt like a minute, Tikki appeared with a hair comb.

" It's good to see you, Master. How can I help you?"

" Pollen, just call me Marinette or Renee. I'll need to paralyze Hawkmoth and take his miraculous, even if it will be harder for me to find Mayura."

" But what if both Mayura and Hawkmoth will be here?" Tikki asked.

" I don't know Tikki. I think I will paralyze Mayura and take her miraculous as unnoticeable as possible. Right now I just want to sleep. Good night everyone."

Sleep came to her fast after that.

---

Marinette heard annoying sound of her phone alarm. She wanted to ignore it but three kwamis thought differently.

" Marinette! You need to wake up!"

" Noooo, Tikki, I want to sleep."

" Mari, what if Hawkmoth appears."

With that Marinette's eyes snapped open and she reluctantly sat up. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she looked at kwamis.

" Are you ready?"

All three nodded. She transformed in Multimouse and divided. One minimouse transformed with Pollen, other with Tikki. Now, the only thing that was left is to wait.

All of her parts were scattered throughout the lair near the walls, and all of them were bored as hell.

But the sound of lowering platform made them concentrate on their surroundings. They saw how Gabriel and his assistant, Nathalie, transformed and used their powers.

Multibee slowly walked to Mayura, who fortunately stood behind Hawkmoth. She whispered venom and quietly stung her. Multibee quickly climbed to the miraculous and without any second thought took it off. And when a bright blue light appeared Marinette cursed and jumped from paralyzed body and also separating from Pollen.

Hawkmoth turned around and when he saw detransformed Nathalie rushed to her not understanding what happened with her.

Seeing a possibility, Multibug quickly grabbed her yo-yo and tied him. She wasn't sure if she'll be able to hold him for long so others grabbed the string too. The nearest Multimouse sprinted to the captured man. Getting to his miraculous was hard when he angrily struggled. But Multimouse still got a hold of the brooch. And when he tried to shake her off, the miraculous went flying with her.

Every Multimouse that was left ran to those who held the yo-yo. Gathering into one, Marinette pulled the string and made him fall.

And without knowledge of how to escape she jumped to the big window, breaking it in process.

Marinette felt as glass cut her skin but right now it didn't matter. A lot of white butterflies could be seen as they flew behind her.

None of the passing Parisians knew what to think.

Marinette detransformed in her parlor and put on both butterfly's and peacock's miraculous. Both kwamis were overjoyed about finally being free. Other kwamis were happy about finally seeing their friends after so much time.

Marinette for a moment observed as kwamis interacted and begun treating her cuts. They noticed it and started helping her, insisting that she needed to rest. Nooroo and Duusu were hesitant but she reassured them that they are part of the family.

Now to complete her mission she needed to inform Chat Noir and Paris about Hawkmoth and to take black cat's miraculous.

Mari sent a message through her yo-yo about meeting at Eiffel tower to him after she transformed into Ladybug.

At their meeting place, Chat Noir was a little bit disappointed that she never told him her plan, but still happy. And while he was sad about giving Plagg back, he understood. When Adrien revealed himself he was expecting her to do the same.

" I'm sorry Chaton, as a guardian I can't do this. Do you need a ride to your home?"

Adrien gave a small sad nod.

After that Marinette informed all of Paris about Hawkmoth and Mayura. Later that day Mayor held a big celebration.

Renee observed the party on the nearby roof with all kwamis near her.

" Our mission is completed. What now? Anything you would like to do?"

And immediately all of them started talking. Everyone listed what they wanted to see and do.

Marinette wrote everything in her notebook. They had a lot of places to see.

During night Mari wondered what she will do. While she knew what her little friends wanted, but she never thought about her wishes. Other thing that worried her, is that she could be easily killed. And then there will be no more guardian to protect the kwamis. She'll ask about this when all of them will wake up.

" Well, if you need a temporary solution we could teach you how to make spells that will help out. But if you want a permanent one..." said Wayzz after some thinking.

" I'd like a permanent solution. I want all of you to be safe."

Tikki sighed and looked her in the eyes.

" We can make you a half kwami. You'll be able to change between human and kwami form and transform with our miraculouses, even with your own. You won't need water, air and other things that are necessary to humans. You'll still need to eat something to recharge energy like we do and you'll also stop aging." She said with a hint of happiness.

" But the chances of success are always different." Wayzz added casting a look towards ladybug kwami.

" Will I die if it fails?"

Theirs eyes widened.

" No no, you'll just be tired for some time. Nothing bad will happen, don't worry."

Mari nodded and with determination in her eyes she said.

" Then, I want to try it."

The process was long and tiring. All kwamis concentrated on Marinette's soul, rebuilding it in something different, something powerful. Their quiet murmuring filled the room where Marinette layed.

And when they were almost done, they saw as white glow slowly covered her body. It became brighter with each second until her body disappeared and something else appeared in the air. It was a silver feathered heart locket. Slowly it lowered to the floor.

All kwamis just stared at it, surprised that they managed after the first try. Duusu was the first to snap out of it. Without any hesitation she came closer and slowly touched it's surface.

Immediately after that a white orb emerged. And when it stopped a snowy owl kwami levitated in the air. Faster than ever, Duusu hugged a newborn god and other kwamis joined them.

" How should we call you."

" Well, Renee is my human name and I want it to stay like this. I'd like to honour my first name somehow. Also I noticed that all of you have double letters in your name. So perhaps Maari?"

Tikki looked proud "Then I, the ladybug kwami and kwami of creation, gladly accept you Maari, the snowy owl kwami, as one of us and wish you luck with finding and training your powers."

After that their journey began. Renee and kwamis traveled everywhere, they met a lot of friends, and escaped from not so friendly people.

And almost six years later they finally thought about settling somewhere.

A lonely figure appeared on one of Gotham's street during night.

A lady in white and black with a wooden box in hands stood on the highest building waiting for kwamis, who were looking for a long abandoned house. Soon, a small horse flied to her with a smug expression.

" I found a mansion that was abandoned for a long time and it isn't visited at all for some reason. Perhaps people are afraid of the stray dogs that are always near it."

" A mansion?"

" Only the best for my sister and guardian!" Said a cheerful Kaalki. She was obviously proud of herself for being able to find something incredible.

Renee smiled gently and mentally told her siblings about Kaalki's discovery.

" A mansion. A big, abandoned mansion. Why am I not surprised?" Plagg looked at the small horss with paws crossed over his chest.

" I don't see anything bad in it. Only the best for the best." He facepalmed but a fond smile could be seen on his face.

" So what all of you think? Should we look for something different or everyone agree?"

Different agreements went from kwamis. With a nod from Renee Kaalki opened the portal to their destination.

The building was definitely abandoned for a long time. Different plants, that formed cracks in place where they grew up, surrounded the first floor. Everything was coated in dust, the furniture was barely holding.

Every kwami went in different directions.

Renee found a lot of strange, interesting, old things. Every room had something like that. One in particular had a beautiful table in front of fireplace. It looked like an office room as far as she could guess. Many books, plants and small animal statues adored the shelves along the walls.

The half-kwami liked the room. With another mental message she waited for everybody to fly over here.

The interior was adored by many kwamis. Others enjoyed that this room was hard to find.

In the end, the decision was made. The box would stay here with everyone, including Maari, inside the room. The protection spell, that will protect the box from someone with bad intentions, would be casted.

---

Somewhere in the Gotham

A lonely mansion stood

For a long time forgotten

But still looking good

Somewhere inside there was a place

That looked like a boredom

Where a lot of small gods rest

Waiting for the worthy person

---

One red vigilante was moving from roof to roof, searching for anything suspicious. The silence was interrupted by his comms.

" Red Robin, the patrol is over. Return to the cave."

" Be there in few."

With that, Tim jumped in the direction of his destination. After quite a lot of roofs he found himself at the unknown to him place. He stopped and started looking around hoping to spot anything familiar. Tim's eyes landed on the tall building of the Wayne Foundation.

But something else caught his eye. A lonely mansion. Tim felt as if something was pulling him there. Quickly looking around for anybody or anything strange, he made his mind and started crossing the distance.

The old looking gates were open, same with the front door. Stepping inside Red Robin noticed that this house was abandoned when he saw how ruined it was in some places. But the need to go somewhere still was present.

Tim found a lot of old things and paintings while walking through the hall. He continued exploring until he found a door. Unlike other doors this one was closed. The vigilante opened it and found a room filled with books, plants, small statues, a sofa, fireplace and an eye-catching table with a strange wooden box on it. Tim moved closer and saw a silver necklace shaped as a heart made from two wings near the box. Picking it up he examined it and found out that it was a locket. Tim hesitated to open it at first, but his curiosity won. He opened the two halves of a heart. Inside in the middle there was a small mirror, inside the right half was a miniature compass that looked like it actually worked. In the left half of the heart he saw a picture of a beautiful smiling woman. She had a midnight blue hair, that reached to her shoulders, freckles and blue eyes. Tim stared at her until his comms sounded again.

" Red Robin, we are waiting for you in the cave. Do you need help? Or is everything okay?"

" Yeah, don't worry. I just... got distracted. I'll be there soon."

Tim took a picture of the lady in order to research her and after putting the locket down he exited the mansion.

A white orb slowly emerged from the locket...

tag list: @vixen-uchiha

Locket inspiration (tap me)

#maribat #timari #timinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #timmari #kwami mari

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topsytervy · 4 years

Text

Book Lovers ~ Pope Heyward

Blurb: You have a crush on Pope and Pope has a crush on you. Your love for books brings you together.

Word Count: 3,376

Warnings: swearing, poorly written towards the end cause I'm bad at ending writings, probably spelling/grammar errors, I think thats it.

I started writing this as a whole bond over books thing and then it kind of got away from that a bit but not really I don't think.

Also, the way i was going back and forth between writing this and something Calum Hood related cause its his birthday and I love him was insane.

~~~~~~

You sat on the beach on a towel, a book in hand as the sounds of screams and waves filled the air.

Not too far away sat Pope, staring at you as JJ, John B and Kie surfed. He watched as you brushed some hair behind your ear before turning the page, completely engrossed by whatever it was you were reading.

"Are you serious?" Pope jumped as his head swiveled to look at the voice that spoke.

Kie stood there, surfboard under her arm with an eyebrow raised, the two other boys behind her.

"What?" Pope shrugged, acting as casual as he could.

"Really? Playing dumb Pope? Thats JJ's job." She answered, setting down her board and sitting next to him.

"I take some offense to that, Kie." JJ told her which only caused the curly-haired girl to roll her eyes.

"Just go talk to her, Pope."

Pope widened his eyes. "Are you crazy, Kie?"

"If talking to someone you like is crazy then have me committed but last time I checked it was normal."

"What would I even talk to her about?"

"Oh, I don't know. She's only reading a book. Gosh if only you read." Kie told him, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Pope sighed before getting up.

"Go get 'em, tiger." John B grinned as him and JJ took a seat next to Kie, watching as Pope made his way over.

He was about halfway to you before he turned around and walked back, shaking his head. "I can't do it. It's rude to interrupt someone's reading ya know. That and Toppers walking towards her."

JJ scoffed. "Really, man. Toppers got nothing on you. Besides, I'm pretty sure they're just friends."

"Oh quite the opposite, JJ. He's got money and a way nicer boat."

John B shot Pope a look. "How dare you insult the HMS Pogue like that."

"You know what I mean. He can buy her literally anything she asks for."

"Okay. So he's got money and a nice boat. That means he's trying to compensate for something. Any guesses as to what that is?" Kie stared at Pope.

JJ grinned, deciding to answer for his best friend. "His di-"

"Personality, JJ" Kie cut off the blonde. "What he lacks in personality, he makes up for with money. Topper is boring as hell. He doesn't know the meaning of excitement and adventure. You do. I'm sure you have way more in common with her than Topper does."

Pope took one last look at you, book open but ignored as Topper chatted with you. You just smiled and nodded before standing up and gathering your things, waving a small goodbye to Topper as you did.

You glanced over and saw the Pogues watching you so you brought up your hand and sent them a small wave, blushing when Pope smiled and waved back at you.

The next time Pope saw you was at the library. He was getting a couple of books for a paper he had to write and you were there, scanning the shelves, trying to figure out what book you wanted to read next.

Pope had looked over and froze when he saw you just a few feet away from him, fingers ghosting over the spines of books as you read the titles.

You had agreed to ride with Kelce to the library considering he needed a specific book to read and you needed a new book to read. You chewed on your lip, focusing on each one before pulling one out that caught your eye, reading the blurb before ultimately deciding that you didn’t want to read that one now.

Pope took a deep breath before scanning the titles himself, attempting to find one that he had already read that he thought you would enjoy. He finally found one and grabbed it, walking over to you.

"Having troubles?" He asked.

You jumped slightly before looking at him. "Little bit. It's hard to find which one to read next, ya know."

Pope nodded before handing you the book. "You might like this one. I read it and could hardly put it down. It's definitely on my list of books to own."

You took it with a smile. "Thanks."

"It's no biggie." Pope shrugged.

You smiled again before walking backwards towards the checkout counter. "I'll see you around, Pope."

Pope grinned at the fact that you knew his name. "I hope so, Y/N."

You blushed slightly before turning around, meeting up with Kelce who immediately noticed your reddened cheeks.

"What's going on over here, Y/N/N?" He asked, pointing to his own cheeks.

"Nothing." You mumbled, placing your book and library card on the counter.

Kelce looked around, trying to spot who was making his best friend blush before shrugging.

Later that night, you and Kelce were sitting on his living room floor with Rafe and Topper, a board game set out in front of the boys as you read your book and listened to their conversation.

"Topper, St.Louis is not the capital of Illinois." Rafe said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"What are you talking about? Yes it is!"

Kelce took a deep breath before looking at Topper. "Top, sweetie, if you think St.Louis is the capital of Illinois, then what's the capital of Missouri?"

"Boise?"

You peered over your book with a blank look on your face, Kelce and Rafe having the same look on theirs.

"Come on guys, you know I'm bad at geography." Topper whined.

"I think," Rafe started, looking at Kelce, "We need to bust out that Sequence state capital game from second grade."

"I think I lost a brain cell during this conversation," Kelce rubbed his temples.

"Good thing you're not playing fucking jeopardy or you'd really be screwed, Top." You said.

Topper turned his attention to you. "Not all of us are book smart, Y/L/N." Topper leaned over to look at the page before squinting. "Whatcha reading that's better than playing a game with us, anyway?"

You held up the book enough so they could read the title and Rafe raised an eyebrow. "Where'd ya find that one?"

"Someone recommended it to me." You blushed a little at the interaction with Pope earlier that day.

"Oh ho ho. That is the same blush you had at the library. You like this person." Kelce pointed.

"Shut up, Kelc."

"Wait. She was blushing? Oh snap."

"Spill the name, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes at your friends before replying. "I don't have to tell you three anything."

"Come on. If you're not gonna tell us then how will we tease you?" Rafe whined.

"That's exactly why I'm not gonna tell you. You'll just tease me and then whenever he's around, you'll act all juvenile."

Topper looked at the two boys before turning towards you. "If we promise that we will keep the teasing to a minimum when he's not around and that we act mature about this, will you tell us?"

You bit your lip before hesitantly nodding. Rafe, Topper and Kelce's eyes widened, eager to hear the name about to come out of your mouth.

You sighed, bookmarking your page. "His name is Marcel. He wears glasses and wears a sweater vest. A bit on the awkward side but very sweet."

Kelce and Topper shot each other confused glances, never having heard that name before. Rafe, on the other hand, cocked his head to the side with an unamused look and a 'really'.

"You know this Marcel, Cameron?" Topper asked.

"Yeah. If you watch the Best Song Ever music video, you'll meet him. I do have two sisters, remember." He answered.

You shrugged. "Worth a shot."

"Come on, Y/L/N. Just give us the name."

You held up your hands in surrender. "Okay, okay." Your three friends leaned forward, staying quiet with raised eyebrows. "Pope Heyward."

"Oh my God," Topper breathed.

"Can we not do the usual 'traitor' bullshit please? I feel like my mom is already going to have a fit."

"What makes you think we'd do that?"

You shot each of them a look before standing up. "I gotta get going. You guys have fun and Topper," you looked at the blonde, "learn your damn capitals."

And then you were out the door.

****

Pope walked into The Wreck a few days later and spotted you in the corner, book in hand while you ate your food. Pope was so focused on you that he didn't even notice Kie appear next to him with a water pitcher in her hand.

"You gonna stand there all day or you gonna sit down with her and start up a conversation."

Pope whipped his head to look at his friend before shrugging. "I guess I could but sh-"

"She's reading and its rude to interrupt someone whos reading. I know." Kie rolled her eyes before walking over to your table.

He saw you smile at Kie and greet her before nodding. You looked past Kie and saw Pope. You grinned and waved him over which Pope happily did, taking a seat across from you.

"Want anything Pope?" Kie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just get me the usual."

Kie smiled before walking away towards the back.

"I finished that book you recommended to me last night and I was speechless. The ending was...wow." You leaned back in your chair, taking a drink of water.

"I know right. That book made me want to read all his other works and they're all just so amazing." Pope grinned.

"His writing is so poetic that I was surprised I wasn't reading an actual poem."

"Exactly. He's such a good writer."

You two talked for hours about different authors and books you guys liked, eventually both of you started writing down names of books and authors for the other to check out.

"How long have they been like that?" John B asked, JJ sitting beside him along with the kook boys who joined them unexpectedly with no hassle whatsoever.

"Lets see. You five have been here for 45 minutes to an hour, Pope showed up a couple of hours before you. So...almost four." Kie smiled before scurrying off to wait on another table.

"Four what? Hours?" JJ asked.

"Yes, dumbass." Rafe rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the table where you sat with Pope.

"They both look so happy." Topper commented.

"Because they are. They're in love." Kelce sighed with a dopey smile on his face, resting his head against his hand.

"Aren't they a little young for love?" John B raised an eyebrow.

Kelce shot him a look which caused John B to raise his hand in surrender.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"They're both nerds. Take a guess."

JJ opened his mouth to object, offended on behalf of his best friend but John B stopped him. "No, no. He has a point."

You glanced at your watch before standing up, saying something to Pope who nodded, handing each other your phones.

JJ smirked. "My boy is getting some." Rafe, Kelce, and Topper all turned to look at JJ, unamused with his words. "Or not."

*****

Pope shook his head. "No way. That is one of the dumbest and most cliche tropes ever."

It was a week later and you and Pope sat at The Wreck again, having a conversation about whatever you recently read and now, apparently, your favorite and least favorite tropes.

"I have to disagree. Enemies to lovers has my heart." You responded, taking a bite out of your burger after you spoke.

"One bed and they have to share reigns supreme." Pope popped a fry into his mouth like that was the end of discussion.

You held up your finger as you finished chewing before swallowing. "You have to have some love for the enemies to lovers trope then because a lot of enemies to lovers involve sharing a bed." You pointed out.

"What about friends to lovers? Hmm? Hmmm? That right there is practically gold and bed sharing comes into play."

You rolled your eyes. "At some point, a friend likes another. I can tell you in confidence that I had a crush on Topper, Kelce, and Rafe at some point in our friendship. It was bound to happen because we hang out so much. Enemies to lovers though? Who willingly hangs out with their enemy? No one."

Pope laughed. "Alright. Sure. Whatever."

"Don't whatever me Pope. I'm right and you know I am." You laughed.

Pope held his hands up in surrender. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Kiara walked over to your table and you smiled. "Lets ask Kie."

"Ask me what?" Her eyes darted between you and Pope.

Pope turned to Kie. "I want you to be honest with me, Kie. Which trope is better? Best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers."

Kie blinked slowly as she spoke. "I was just coming here to ask if you need refills or anything else."

"This is more important. Best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers?"

You both looked at the girl expectedly and she shrugged. "I'm more of a fake dating girl myself so neither."

"Or both." You raised your eyebrows.

"True. Enemies could fake date or friends could. Sounds like a both thing for me."

Kie just turned and walked away, shaking her head with a small smile.

Your phone dinged and you looked down, seeing a text from your mom. "Thats my mother paging me." You sighed as you stood up. "This has been a fun date, Pope."

"Date?"

You felt your face heat up from embarrassment."Oh, was this...not- I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry."

"No, it was. I just didn't think you'd think of it as one." Pope quickly said.

You smiled before kissing his cheek. "I'll talk to you later then.'

Pope blushed as he watched you walk away, paying for your half of the meal before exiting the building.

****

It's been a month since you and Pope became official. A lot of your dates were either study dates, beach dates, or dates that consisted of you two eating at The Wreck while discussing anything under the sun.

Pope was kind of scared when you asked him what he wanted to do for a living, considering everyone else thought it was weird but you were supportive.

"That's cool."

Popes eyes widened in shock at your words. "Really? No 'why would you choose a coroner' or 'why the hell would you wanna work with dead bodies'?"

You shrugged as you stole one of the fries from his plate. "I think it's cool. It's a job not many people want but it's an important one."

That was probably when Pope knew that he was in deep with you. The fact that you didn't judge the things he was passionate about and what he wanted to do. That just made him fall for you more and let him know that you were the perfect girl for him.

Now here you were, spending the weekend together in the best way.

You sat in Pope's living room, okay laid in Pope's living room, watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Pope had the house all to himself for the weekend and invited you over for a Harry Potter movie marathon since you two just finished rereading the entire series.

So here you were, curled into your boyfriend's side with his arm draped over your shoulders, holding you closer if that was even possible.

You sighed as Alan Rickman appeared on the screen. "I miss him."

Pope kissed the top of your head as he rubbed your arm. "I know, sweetheart. You say that everytime he pops up on screen."

"I can't help it. He was just such a good soul."

Pope smiled, twirling some of your hair around his finger. He loved listening to you talk about things and people you were passionate about. The smile on your face whenever someone, usually him, brought up one of those topics was worth it and he could listen to your voice for hours on end, which usually happened when a topic of interest was brought up.

"Are you even listening to me?" You'd ask, tapping his wrist.

"Every word."

You'd lean back and cross your arms, a smirk on your face as you raised one of your eyebrows. "Oh really?"

He'd nod before speaking. "You were saying how you think iced coffee is better than regular hot coffee."

You'd make an impressed face. "Are you going to say anything at any point in this conversation."

He'd pretend to think about it before shaking his head. "I'm good."

You'd roll your eyes before purposely bringing up a topic that would cause him to talk some because just like him, you were obsessed with seeing his smile when he was interested in a topic and hearing his voice.

"Pope, did you hear me?"

Pope blinked before shaking his head. "No. Sorry. I was spacing this time."

"I asked if you wanted to make stir fry tonight?" You laughed lightly at the space cadet you called a boyfriend.

Pope smiled and nodded. "Sounds great. I'll ask dad if we can raid the store for whatever we don't have."

You both pulled out your phones, you to get the recipe and Pope to ask his dad if it was okay to take whatever was needed for dinner.

You walked into the kitchen and started pulling out whatever you could find that was needed for the stir fry before writing down on a notepad what was left.

"We got the go ahead." Pope told you and you held up the notepad.

"Then let's go on an adventure."

You two paused the movie and made your way down the street towards Heywards hand in hand.

"Have you ever seen the Percy Jackson movies?" You asked, genuinely curious if Pope had or not. Pope shook his head and you let out a laugh. "Oh boy. We might have to take a break from good ol' HP so you can watch them."

"Why?" Pope swung your arms as looked at you.

"You might find them...interesting. That's all." You shrugged.

"Are they good?"

You smiled up at him as you leaned your head on his arm. "You'll have to see."

Normally, you wouldn't recommend watching the movies to anyone but when it came to Pope, you wanted him to see it. You wanted to see him rant about all the differences and how bad this adaptation was. You wanted to see him get all flustered at the smallest details that the movies got wrong and complain about how this doesn't do the books any justice.

"Are you setting me up?" A small smile sat on Pope's lips.

You placed a hand to your heart. "Ouch Pope. That stings."

He just laughed before kissing your temple as you approached Heywards. Pope unlocked the door and you followed him inside, picking up the rest of your ingredients before walking over to the counter and pulling a 20 out of your pocket, sliding it under one of the boxes for Mr.Heyward to find.

"Really? You know my dad loves you right? Like you don't have to pay him for this stuff. He gave us the okay." Pope said.

You shrugged. "It's fine and it's only right. I mean, I'm taking things from his store. The least I can do is pay him." You turned to the security camera and waved before pointing to the box the cash was under and doing the hand signal for money.

"You do know he cant check the system from his phone right?"

"Yeah but if he plays it back, he'll know and no one else will see the footage." You smiled before turning back to your boyfriend. "Ready?" You asked as you placed your things in a bag.

Pope grabbed your hand and the bag as he nodded. "Lets get cooking."

You laughed as you followed him back outside, waiting for him to lock the door before beginning the short journey back to his, the pair of you thinking about how lucky you were to have someone like the other.

~~~~~~

#pope obx #pope heyward #pope outer banks #pope x reader

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