#and now the stupid function is back on my screen nonstop

[claudiaeparvier]

So now tumblr is giving me the fake option of snoozing this tumblr live for a month?

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 3)

i did not expect this to turn into more than just a oneshot, but here i am, posting a part 3?? and there’s more to come??? lmao, im a mess, having a million wips at a time, whatever. enjoy this DIRTY piece in the world of Harry and Actress!Y/N hehe!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 3k

warning: NSFW content (we are taking a dirty turn in this part babes)

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“But are you really sure you’re fine?” Florence asks for the millionth time over the phone. “You know, I could come over anytime, have a few drinks and forget about the idiots who decided you don’t deserve that Emmy.”

“I’m very sure,” you chuckle, sinking further down on your couch, kicking your heels off your feet. “It’s not a big deal.” “Oh it is, but you are trying to act all tough, though I know it bothers you.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” you tell her truthfully.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you are this wise ass bitch, not some petty loser that I usually am.”

You snort at her words laughing loudly. Florence is by far one of the funniest people you know, she never fails to make you laugh, no matter what’s the situation.

“It’s sad that I didn’t win, but I’m fine. Really. Maybe next time it will be me,” you say, genuinely hoping this wasn’t your first nomination.

“Okay, I’ll stop bugging you, but call me if you change your mind and want company.”

“Thank you, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Once you end the call you let a long, heavy breath out that feels like you’ve been keeping in all night. Walking into your closet you stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking a look at yourself, still wearing the burgundy pant suit you wore for the award show. You were the only woman in pants all evening and you felt more powerful than ever. You’ve always loved to make a statement with your fashion choices and tonight you feel like you definitely succeeded in getting the message through: you are a bad bitch.

Stripping out of the outfit you hang it carefully before putting on some sweats and an oversized vintage t-shirt, feeling so much more comfortable already. Your hair is still in loose waves and you kind of like the texture, so you just leave it like that, moving into your bedroom to check up on some emails.

Cozied up under your duvet, laptop resting on your thighs, you start replying to some emails, updating your schedule for the next week. You almost don’t notice the text you get, barely catching the lit up screen from the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the device from the night stand you smile down at the series of messages from Harry.

“Bunch of idiots,” the first one reads.

“I’m suing them. All of them.”

“You looked fucking unreal by the way. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you read the last one over and over again. It’s been weeks since your number landed in Harry’s phone and you’ve been texting nonstop since then. Whenever you pulled your phone out to check if someone had tried to reach you, there was always a text rom him waiting for you, making you smile most of the time.

“Thanks Xx,” you reply shortly, not sure how to react to his heated words of calling the whole Television Academy a bunch of idiots, though it surely warmed your heart.

“Enjoying the after party?” his next text comes fast.

“Nope, I’m home already. Didn’t feel like partying.”

“What?! You not winning is not an excuse to skip celebrating. You still got nominated!”

“Already celebrated that, so I’m out of occasions.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Text me your address, I’m going over with wine and takeout.”

His bluntness in flirting and shooting his shot has been amusing to you since the moment he sat next to you on The Ellen Show. Harry Styles doesn’t shy away to try and show his attraction, or at least not towards you.

You hesitate a little, not sure if you want him here, but something deep down in your guts is telling you that you definitely want him to come over, some dirty thoughts already popping into your mind, but you are quick to get rid of them.

You send him your address and he tells you he’ll be over in twenty. You use that time to clean up a little around your apartment. You left in kind of a rush earlier, being a little late with your glam team, so you didn’t bother to leave the place in a decent state. It doesn’t take long though to clean up the mess and checking the time you see that you still have a little time until Harry arrives. As you walk past one of the mirrors in your hallway, you take a look at yourself, debating whether you should change or stay in your comfy homey outfit. At last you drop the idea to put on a different outfit, not wanting to look desperate when Harry arrives.

Not long later you get a notification from downstairs that a so called Mr. Styles has entered the building and is heading up to your floor. Running a hand through your hair you walk over to the front door and opening it you stand there, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the familiar ding hits your ear you notice how your heart skips a beat upon seeing him walk out.

“Hi,” you smile at him holding the door open for him. He looks amazing, as always, wearing a pair of brown high-waisted pants with a loose white shirt tugged into it, a teal denim jacket topping the outfit. He looks comfortable, but still well put together, something you have always admired in his style.

“Hello, Love,” he smiles back at you and pulls you in for a short, one armed hug before walking fully inside. “Didn’t know what stuff you fancy, so I got a bunch,” he admits with a chuckle, holding up two plastic bags completely stuffed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” you shake your head at him smiling as you lock the front door and lead him into your open concept kitchen.

“But I should have,” he argues, setting the bags down to the counter, packing out everything he brought.

Three bottles of wine, all of them different kinds, snacks, both sweet and salty, topped with an insane amount of Chinese takeout that could feed a whole family, not just two people. You put the wines into the fridge though you know they won’t get chilly enough by the time you open it. Turning to Harry you smile at him shyly, only just now realizing that he is in your home for the first time.

“Want a tour?” you ask, pulling your shoulders up to your ears.

“Would love that,” he smirks and lets you lead the way.

The modern apartment in Manhattan has been your home for a little over a year now. One of the first things you invested into once you started earning like an A-list celebrity. It’s spacious, you did the interior over once you bought it, formed it a little more to your taste. You walk Harry through the living room, the three bedrooms from which one is yours, the others function as a guest room whenever a family member of one of your friends needs a place to stay. There are three bathrooms in total, a study room that’s always a mess, your desk filled with scripts and books most of the time, but Harry tells you it suits your vibe.

“And this here is my wardrobe,” you end the tour, flicking the lights on in the walk in closet, probably your favorite part of the place. It’s bigger than your bedroom, but it’s exactly what you and your passion for fashion needs.

Harry curiously walks inside, his eyes immediately stopping on the burgundy pant suit you wore earlier that night.

“This, Darling, was an excellent choice,” he smirks over at you, his fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pants.

“Felt amazing in it,” you nod smiling.

“I bet you did,” he chuckles softly.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and sit at the kitchen island, roaming through all the food Harry has brought. A short silence comes over the room that’s broken by Harry first.

“So how are you really feeling about tonight?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug, but then feel his hand on your knee that’s closer to him and your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze burning down on you intently.

“No, I’m asking fo’ real. You don’t have to mask your disappointment.”

Licking your lips you look back at your plate filled with dumplings and you start to just poke them around with the chopsticks in your hand.

“Of course I’m disappointed. Who wouldn’t want to win? But there’s not much I can do about it, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t push it all down.”

“I’m not the type to rage very publicly, if you haven’t realized that,” you chuckle, diverting your eyes back at him, catching a soft smile on his lips.

“That I know of. Miss No Beef,” he teases you, even though you could pretty much say the same thing about him. “I was properly screaming at the screen when they said someone else’s name over yours.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“Mhm. I was rooting for you big time.”

“Well,” you sigh turning back to your plate. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nah-ah, none of that crap, Y/N,” he protests right away, dropping his chopsticks to his plate as he slides off his stool, stepping closer to you, one hand lying flat on the counter, while the other one finds the underside of your stool and he easily turns you so you are facing him, your knees involuntarily parting so he could stand between them. “I’m not letting you think of any less of yourself because of some stupid award.”

“The Emmys are not stupid,” you correct him, but it seems like he doesn’t even hear you, staring down at you with a smug grin, his hand moving from the stool to your waist.

“Mhm, they are. They made the most talented and beautiful woman think she is not the best of all.”

You can’t push down the smile that tugs on your lips as you watch him slowly lean closer. Heart beating faster, you let him do whatever he has on his mind, not finding the will to push him away. Not that you want to do that, you’d be stupid to say no to this man.

“Who’s this woman we are talking about?” you breathe out with a teasing smile. Harry smirks back at you, his hand squeezing your waist gently as his other hand moves up to the base of your neck, his thumb running along your jawline.

“The woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately.”

A desperate whimper tries to escape your lips, but you bite it back in time, feeling so lost how much effect he has on you with just a simple sentence.

“What are these fantasies about?” you find yourself asking as he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours.

You’re aching for his lips, to feel him touch you everywhere. You want to come undone under his hands and the breaking point where you won’t be able to mask up your desperate feelings is threateningly close.

“I’ve been thinking about making her feel real good. Watch her fall apart under my touch,” he murmurs lowly and this time, you can’t hold that moan back. Your lips brush against his, but he pulls back smirking, not kissing you.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when you feel his hand move from your waist to your stomach, cheekily teasing you as he is drawing circles around your belly button over the soft fabric of your shirt.

“Can I touch you, Y/N? I really want to make you feel appreciated and good. Will you let me do that?”

Not able to find your voice you whimper out something that’s close to being a yes, but it’s not enough for him and while you are losing touch with what’s really going on, Harry is very much enjoying seeing you like this, all for himself.

“Use your words, Love. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes!” you choke out and luckily, he doesn’t waste any more time.

You feel his lips connect with your neck as both his hands work on the waistband of your sweats, pushing them further down a little before his right hand taps on the top of your lacy underwear, the one you wore under your suit tonight, the one Harry definitely thought about when he first saw you through his screen.

You gasp when his hand slides into your underwear, fingers finding your sensitive bud of nerves, pressing down on them softly. You desperately turn your face, eager to meet his lips, but he pulls back for your dismay.

“Not now, Love,” he tells you and though the words sting a little, you don’t have much time to dwell on them when you feel his fingers slide back and forth between your soaking wet folds. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirks while you’re trying to breath evenly, though it’s quite the challenge.

His lips return to your neck and your hands fly up to grab onto the back of his neck and shoulders, his fingers teasing you around your hole, not entering just yet. You start buckling your hips, desperate to get him take the next step and he is surely enjoying the show you are putting on for him.

“Ready to feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hair roughly and a loud moan escapes your lips when he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, this feels so nice,” he groans, lips nipping on the soft skin under your ear. He is quick to take up on a pace, moving his digits in and out, his thumb circling on your clit, adding that extra magic most men always forget about. But not Harry, he is eager to please you the best he can and if you weren’t sitting, you’d be on your knees for him by now.

“Yeah, tug on my hair, Darling,” he growls, his voice sending chills down your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair just as he asked, while you feel your climax building up.

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside you every time he thrusts them in, making you almost see stars. Your legs fly around his waist, ankles crossing above his bum as you bring him closer, and a whimpered groan bursts out of him, probably because his erection just got squeezed against his hand by your action, his nonstop moving hand now stuck between your heated core and his throbbing member. When his head pulls back you quickly look at him, about to ask if he is alright, but he just presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as his unsaid answer that he is perfectly fine.

His forehead comes to rest against yours as he adds a third finger, making you moan his name in ecstasy. Your mind is starting to completely shut down, the sensation of utter pleasure taking over your whole body as you can feel your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

“C’mon, Love. Let it go for me,” he mumbles, his free hand sliding to your back so he keeps you flushed against him, your heaving chest touching his upper body with each drawn breath.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, eyes screwed shut, tipping over the edge of your climax. “Please don’t stop!” you beg whining.

“Never, Darling.”

And he keeps his words. He keeps going and going until your walls close up around his slick fingers and your thighs tremble around his waist. You tug on his hair once again, pulling his head back just enough so your eyes meet right when you come undone. His fingers keep moving a little longer, bringing you down from your high before the last wave of your orgasm dies down and you are brought back to reality.

When his fingers slide out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you breathe out in dismay and it brings a smile to his lips as he licks his fingers clean and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watch him taste your pleasure on his own fingers.

Glancing down you see the very visible bulge in his pants and you reach down to return the favor you just had the pleasure to get, but his hands wrap around your wrists stopping you, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Not now, Love. This was all about you. I’ll be fine.”

“But—“ “No,” he cuts you off shaking his head gently. “Seeing you like this was more than enough for me.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you feel yourself blushing at his words, the whole situation that just went down dawning on you just now. Harry really did just finger you on one of your kitchen stools and it was one hell of an experience for sure.

When your gaze wanders over to his lips you remember how he refused to kiss you and now you actually have the chance to pay more attention to this tiny detail.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you ask him, legs falling from his waist as he goes to sit back on his stool. He glances at you, a soft smile on the lips that never touched yours.

“I wasn’t planning to do this, but I just couldn’t stop myself. However, I’m still trying to be a gentleman, so I won’t kiss you until I’ve taken you out on a proper date.”

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle shaking your head at the absurdity of what he just said. “So you are fine fingering me shamelessly, but you won’t kiss me without a date?” you ask, rephrasing his words.

“That’s right,” he nods, his smile growing into a smirk now. Shaking your head you turn back to your probably cold plate of food, chuckling to yourself.

“Harry Styles, you are… something else.”

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[ramp-it-up]

Sundancer

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Some pictures, Angst, Pining, drinking, explicit language, oral sex (female/male receiving), love fluff. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​ from the 100 smut prompts ask list. I got caught up with this one because I went back to the Show Runner AU.  I kinda love these two.  Hope you enjoy. Read Show Runner.

-------

This press tour was going to be all work. No play. 

Those were the strict rules that you were given.

This was the premiere film and television festival and January in Park City could be a fun, wild place and time, but you were on the clock. 

There would be no open flirting, touching, or even covert fucking while the cast was there. 

You listened to the lecture and smiled and nodded when appropriate.

Truth be told, you really weren’t paying attention, just waiting on your knees, naked and wet, to suck the shit out of his dick. 

When he gave you permission to of course.

You were determined to suck all those stupid ideas out of his brain along with all his cum when he gave you the chance. 

And Rafael was, indeed, without much coherent thought when you were done.

_____

Wednesday 

That conversation was of no consequence to you four days later when you landed in Park City. 

Daveed and Rafa had been there for two days and the rest of the cast was trickling in. 

You gathered your bag while answering a few questions from the paps and headed to your hotel alone, following the driver who held your name up outside baggage claim to a luxury suv.

You texted Rafael that you had landed, to which he just replied, “Good.”

No, ‘how was your flight,’ nothing. 

You sighed, assuming he was busy. 

He had been texting you nonstop for the past three days and now he wanted to play you. 

That was cool.

You relaxed as you took in the snowy scenery of snowy Park City. 

You were taken to a stunning tiny little chalet at the edge of the city and halfway up the mountain. 

The views were spectacular, the cute cozy kitchen fully stocked, and the fireplace was bomb.

As you took in all the antler decor, you texted Rafa again, hyped at the accommodations.

This is dope!

You made sure your cleavage was right in your v-neck sweater and took a selfie of you from above in the bedroom. 

I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.

You saw the thought bubbles, but no response.

Cool cool cool. 

If that’s what he wanted. That’s what he would get. Ice.

You shook your head and looked in the refrigerator for water. You also found your favorite snacks. 

Production thought of everything. You’d thank Gwen later.

You relaxed on the couch until it was time to get ready for the mixer. 

The car was ready to go at 6:45, in time to get you fashionably late to the Television mixer at the Waldorf Astoria at 7.

Because of all the traffic, you didn’t arrive until 7:30, but you were chilling. You spotted your crew immediately, partly because they were the loudest. 

You loved this new family you made.

“Ayyyy! What’s cracking! We thought you’d never make it. Late flight? You want a drink?”

You laughed at Daveed, seeing that he was on his way to getting lit.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” 

He raised his cute ass eyebrow at you. “This grown folks shit. You sure?”

“Yes. I’m grown. I need to catch up to you! I misjudged the time to leave my chalet. What time did you all leave yours?”

“Ummmm. I walked downstairs like 20 minutes ago. The whole cast is staying here. You’re the only one staying on the other side of town.”

“Oh.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Daveed turned to go get your drink.

You looked around and saw a lot of actors you’d love to work with, some you already had, and some you knew to stay away from.

You spotted Rafa’s golden hair on the other side of the room. 

You weren’t going to go after him, and you didn’t need to, because some of your cast mates enveloped you and Daveed brought you a drink.

You were having too good a time to worry about Mr. Artistic Integrity.

You two circled the room, never really ending up in the same place. You finally saw him with Gwen and got a chance to talk. Rafa saw you approach. He nodded.

“Hey, Long time no see. You make it in ok ?”

You looked at Rafael for an extra beat. He’d seen you up close and personal three days ago when you’d ridden his face. 

But you were an actor. You could play this game.

“Hey Casal. Yeah, I got a few hours ago.” 

You turned to the logistics producer. 

“Gwen! My chalet is so dope!”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

“That’s great! So, you wanted peace and quiet and away from the rest of us, ay?” Gwen laughed as you and Rafa smiled politely. You were seething. 

“Trying to avoid all the parties. I get it now, although I thought it was weird that you declined accommodations.”

“You know our girl, always a loner.”

Rafael took a sip of his drink, looking at you over it. Your blood boiled but you turned and smiled at Gwen.

“Yeah. On my INFJ shit. What’s the lineup for tomorrow?”  

You made small talk to avoid cussing Rafael the fuck out. He stood there for a minute, listening and being an adorable muthafukin asshole. 

Other people came up and you didn’t even notice Rafa step away. But you spotted him, in a corner with that little twat Ava with the tight little body. Just his type.

He saw you stalking out of the mixer as he chatted her up.

—-

Two hours later, you were cozy in the hot tub, smoking some kush to relax, scrolling your phone. 

A TMZ post from your explore page caught your eye. 

There was a picture of Daveed, next to Rafa and Ava, who looked pretty close and fucking beautiful together. 

The gossip site gushed over the picture of the Bay Boys, noting the ‘adorable couple’ and their mingling at the mixer and somehow sneaking in a not so subtle hint that they were staying at the same hotel.

That was the final straw. You saw it all. Rafa wanted you far away from him while he fucked this little miniature Bratz doll. Bet.

It was only midnight. You were going to get your own plastic action figure for the night.

——

Thursday 

The next morning, you met up with the crew at the suite which was set up for the series press day. 

You went straight to Chelsea who was set up in the bedroom of the suite.

You gave her a hug and took off your sunglasses. Your eyes were puffy.

“Damn girl. You did have fun last night. I got just the thing for those circles.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and let her work her magic.

You emerged ten minutes later and went and got something to eat and a bottle of water from the catering station set up in the kitchen. You watched D and Rafa charm the interviewer. 

You took a deep breath. You could do this.

Ten minutes after that, you find yourself sitting in a chair with the cast lined up, somehow seated next to Rafael.

As the first interviewer was setting up, you got comfortable in your chair. Being a professional.

“I see you had fun last night.”

You looked over at Rafael as if surprised to see him there.

“I’m sorry?”

He smirked at you.

“I said it looks like you had fun with Michael last night.”

He held up his phone and you squinted at a post of you and your new friend, a highly sought after actor who had been in one of Rafa’s favorite movies. 

The pic was from after you went back out to the club last night. You were hugged up close.

You looked in his eyes and saw that he felt some kinda way. He had some fucking nerve.

You smirked. 

“Yeah. He’s really truly a dope person. Not just beauty, but brains too. I love an intelligent man. We… talked all night.” 

Rafa’s smile slipped. You sat back and put on a megawatt smile for the reporter.

The entire day was filled with your secret shots and animosity toward Rafa. 

You couldn’t wait to talk to him in private and tell him not to call your cell phone ever again.

Reporter: “This show has many complex relationships, and you are at the center of two of them that are just developing as the series begins. What do you do to ease into a new relationship?”

You leaned back and crossed your legs.

“That is a great question. Let’s just take an example of, say, meeting someone at... a club?”

Daveed leaned in front of Rafa and said, “This is not a true story from last night by the way.”

“Of course not,” you quickly replied and winked. Everyone laughed, everyone but Rafa.

“What I’ve found recently that works wonders is: ‘Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.’”

Everyone was dying laughing.

Rafa choked on his water. You leaned over and patted him on the back. “You good?”

He just glared at you. You shrugged and kept it moving.

“No, but really. You should start off in a relationship where you can be open and honest. There’s really no relationship if you can’t have that.”

Rafael cleared his throat, but you refused to look at him.

The press day continued.

After eight hours of interviews, you were ready to get out of there, so while Rafa and D were playing host, you managed to get out and to the car. 

You were exhausted of the tension.

On your way to the chalet, Rafa texted you.

‘We need to talk.’

You huffed. Now he wanted to talk. 

Well, tough shit. 

You blocked his number. 

You couldn’t function like this right now. You and him could break it off next week in LA. He was right, you were on the clock.

That night at the Midnight showing, you sat with Michael. 

Might as well try to have some fun. The paparazzi were snapping lots of pictures with you two.

While Mike took a quick interview, you made your way to the bar alone.

“You’ve not answered any of my texts. Or my calls.” 

You rolled your eyes at Rafael.

“You’ve texted and called?” 

You shrugged and took a drink.

“Look. We can do all that back in Cali next week. Gotta keep it professional here, isn’t that the deal?”

You downed your drink and walked back over to Michael, Rafael boring a hole in your back. 

He left you alone after that.

——

Friday

The next day and night were much the same, a cast interview and screening of two episodes during the day and another industry party at night. 

Rafa being so busy made it easy to stay away from each other.

You got back to your place with a bottle of tequila about midnight. 

You were flying out the next day and you should have some fun, even if it was not what you’d envisioned before you arrived in Park City. 

You hated Rafael Casal. 

But you refused to cry. Again.

An hour later, you looked up from your drunken haze to see Rafa standing over you. 

He looked so damn good in this dream.

“You shouldn’t drink a whole bottle of tequila in a hot tub, especially alone.”

“What the fuck do you care? You’re probably fucking Ava ten ways from Sunday right now.”

Dream Rafa raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head.

“Why would I want to fuck Ava?”

“Right? Especially when you could have all this.”

You stood up, almost falling and showing off your wet, naked body.  You giggled as he appreciated you, his eyes sweeping down your body.

Dream Rafa moved closer to you and grabbed your hand as you wobbled. 

“Let’s get out and get you some water.”

He helped you out and wrapped you in one of the huge white fluffy robes that you’d found in the closet.

He led you to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

You drank, your head clearing, but just a bit.

You kept staring at Dream Rafa, who was regarding you steadily, a weird look on his face.

When you finished, he walked you to the bedroom and watched as you lay down. You looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 1:30 am.

You opened your robe and turned to see Dream Rafa in bed with you.

“How convenient. I’m so so horny Dream Boy. Haven’t had any dick since last week.” 

You untied the robe and grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples, arching your back.

Rafael watched you hungrily.  

“Help me to get off. Fuck me, Dream lover. The real Rafa doesn’t want me anymore…”

You moved your hand down to your core and started playing in it, moaning and watching Rafa watch you.

As he licked his lips, you brought your hand up and let him taste the wetness on your fingers. He hummed, then took your hand in his.

“Not like this. I want you. Fully present and clear headed. But I want you. And we need to talk.”

He kissed the palm of your hand and covered you with the robe again.

You groaned and turned away from him.

“Even the Rafael of my dreams reject me? I can’t believe I’m in love with such a jackass.”

You didn’t feel Rafa pull you close as you started shoring.

—

Saturday

You woke up alone, mad at the sunlight. Your head was pounding. 

Your mouth was parched, but you found a bottle of water on the bedside table. 

You grabbed it, grateful that you got it on the way to the bedroom last night. 

As you sat up and drank, you groaned as you thought back to your dream. 

You had to get him out of your system.

You got up and went to the kitchen, halfway expecting to see him there. 

You sighed with something that must have been relief when he wasn’t there. 

You took your water and some grapes to the little kitchen bar and sat there, eating and drinking slowly with your head in your hand.

You jumped when you heard a key in the front door and stared when Rafa let himself in. 

“Look who’s up. Bet you’ve got a doozy of a headache.” 

You just continued to gape as he put his bags down on the counter. He handed you a bottle of aspirin.

“You’ll need these.” He put some pedialyte in front of you. “And this.”

“Wait. Did you just let yourself in? With a key?”

“Yeah. This is my chalet. I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“I thought you had a hotel room.”

“I do. This is business so production put the cast up there. D and I decided to join.”

Your heart clenched at the fact he did not want you there too. What was this reality? Then you thought about the dream.

“Wait. Were you really here last night?” 

You were confusion.

Rafa smiled at you. 

“You want something to eat? Gotta get something in your stomach besides tequila and grapes.” 

You groaned and held your head at the realization that last night was not a dream.

“Fuck. Did I say all that? Did I do all that? Out loud?” 

You peeked at him through your fingers.

That smile. “Yeah.” 

You were mad. He looked to fucking happy. 

“Well, don’t take it personal. I was zooted. When I’m sober, I hate you Rafael.”

He frowned. “Are you sober now?”

You opened the bottle of aspirin and drank some pedialyte. 

“Unfortunately, yes. Very sober.”

Rafa moved next to you.

“I’m going to come closer so I don’t have to yell.”

He tipped your chin up with two fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with a fucking brat.”

You were ready to fight.

“I’m a brat? I’m a BRAT?” 

You leaned back, your hands on the counter behind you to get some space from the electricity bouncing between you.

“You ignore me as soon as I land in the same city as you, and then you put me out here in this secret hideaway so you can fuck with that Ava chick.” 

You closed your eyes because you’d be damned if you cried right now. 

“I thought we agreed that we’d talk to each other before we tired of each other and got with other people?”

Rafa leaned close to you, caging you in with his arms on the counter beside yours. 

You could barely breathe, the emotions were getting the better of you. You just wanted to kiss him.

“Who told you that I fucked Ava?” 

This time you raised your chin on your own.

“No one had to tell me. I saw the pictures of you two together. I can read, Rafa.”

“Not very well in this situation, I’m afraid.”

Rafa shook his head and looked down. Then looked back up at you with those damn eyes.

“You also don’t listen. Did you even hear what I said? I just said I love you.”

You just stared at him.

“Wait… what?”

Rafa brought his hips closer to yours, standing up tall. You wanted them on you.

“I love you, you fucking brat. Why would I want Ava when the woman I love has all this.”

And he reached for you, opening the tie on your robe. He sighed as he moved his hands on your brown skin. He was home.

“I want you to listen. Listen before you jump ahead and try to argue.”

You were about to say something and clamped your mouth shut at his warning glance.

“I told you, this was work. And we agreed not to go public with our relationship yet.”  

He saw you wanting to protest.

“We agreed.” 

His hands spread against your stomach, thumbs on your warm nipples.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was controlling myself. I wanted to meet you at the airport, but the paps are swarming.”

Rafael's blue eyes were now dark.

“And I didn’t stash you away because I wanted to fuck Ava, but because this is my home and I wanted you in it.” 

Rafa finally kissed you, and you took his tongue in your mouth, wanting to own a part of him.  Your moan while you kissed was getting him even harder.

“And when you sent me that picture of you in the bedroom, I wanted to run over here and take you in every room,  but I couldn’t. Still working. Just had to jack off when I could. To that picture.”

You moaned as his words made you drip down your thigh.

He pressed his pelvis to you and you could feel how hard he was. You took a ragged breath and forced your hands to remain on the counter. 

But you looked up into those burning blue eyes. You were wet and ready.

“It was killing me knowing that you were so close, sleeping in my bed without me, naked in my hot tub without me, and that I couldn’t touch you, hold you. Fuck the shit out of you. Hear you scream my name.”

“Tire of you? God, I wish I could get tired of you. I want you all the time, I can hardly function when you’re not around.”

He kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. You were definitely weak.

“I was coming over that first night, but I saw you going out. To the club. Where it seems you hooked up with Mike.” 

Rafa bit down on your pulse point.

“Rafa, I…”

Rafa licked the spot he just bit. 

“Shhh. I know you didn’t get with him, but you were a bit of a bitch at the Q and A day. And then you took him to the midnight screening.”

Rafa was appraising your body possessively now.

“You tried to make me think that you were with him; that he was touching you like this.”

Rafa grabbed your breasts and squeezed your nipples between your fingers. You arched into his hands.

“It was like you were teasing me.” 

His hands moved down your torso and around to your ass, squeezing and pulling your cheeks apart and ghosting your intimate parts with his fingers.

“You know I don’t like to be teased.”

He released you and took two steps back, leaving you feeling bereft.

You were panting in the middle of his kitchen. You felt what it was like to be teased.

“Rafa, I’m sorry. Please…”

Rafa was two steps ahead of you. He was pulling his Oaklandish hoodie over his head. Then he shook his head at you.

He bent his head to your breast as he lifted it roughly to meet his lips. He drew your hard bud between his lips and grazed it with his teeth. 

Rafa nipped and sucked your flesh roughly as he licked the fingers in his other hand and reached between your legs.

“Did you want Mike to touch your cunt like this?”

“No...only you Cash…”

He traced his fingers between your wet lips, causing you to shudder and moan. Then he started to tease your clit.

“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you love me.”

“I..I…” You didn’t know when it happened, but it did. “Fuck it. I love you Rafael.” 

You sigh in relief and with desire as he pushed his fingers deeper into you.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pressed you back against the island.

“Good girl. Now tell me more. Tell me you love what I’m doing to you right now. Tell me you love this shit.”

“I love it so fucking much,” you squeaked, holding on to his shoulders for dear life, your nails digging in.

As he pumped his fingers, you wriggled and started to grind against his hand. As you wriggled more, he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck! Stay still.”  

His tongue licked up and down your neck as his hand went faster and faster, playing you like an instrument.

You were getting so close, and Rafa could feel it. So he stopped and stepped back again, panting while he tasted his fingers and leaving you quivering and emotional.

You refused to beg, but he knew what you needed.

“I want to punish you for not listening to me and your heart, but I can't because I’d be punishing myself.”

He walked toward you again, put his hands on you and slid down your body as he knelt before you.

Rafa looking up at you like that made you fall in love all over again. 

He leaned forward and kissed your lower lips oh so tenderly. Then, he licked them, and you had to hold on to the counter again. Then he started talking.

“I’ve been hard for you ever since you texted me that you touched down.” 

He kissed each of your thighs and lifted one up and rested it on his shoulder. You were not ready.

“I was so pissed off all day. Until I saw you that night.”

Rafa lightly licked a long stripe between your legs.

He pulled back and looked at your pussy, as if entranced.

“But, I stayed away from you at the mixer because I knew I would drag you to a bathroom and bend you over the sink…”

Rafa slowly rolled his tongue over your slit. You held your hand over your mouth as you watched him.

He looked up at you and chuckled. 

“No close neighbors. Let me hear you.” 

He sighed as he looked at you again. 

“I wanted to take you in the bedroom at the suite during the press day and put your ankles around your ears to dig out that attitude.”  

Rafa licked you again, making you tremble and moan loudly.

“I decided to come and give you an ultimatum last night, but I get here and you were so cute and drunk and said that you loved me.”  

He graced you with a smile. You smile back and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I know you said that I don’t own you. But you own me. Body and soul. I’m starving for you.”

And then he dove in, making you gasp as he eagerly parted your lips with his tongue and started to flick it back and forth over your clit, grasping your ass and your leg to support you and keep you in place.

This time he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and swiped, his head moving back and forth as he ate. He did it until your eyes rolled back into your head and you were screaming his name. He increased his pace and intensity until you were a quivering, moaning mess. 

You come on Rafa’s face in the middle of a ski chalet in Park City, Utah.

You were still quivering as you watched him stand up, take off his shirt and wipe his face with it.

“So, you can take your flight back to LA in a couple of hours, or you can stay until Monday and we can be seen together tonight. In public.”

Your face lit up as he led you to the bathroom. You were catching on.

“And we will be ‘good friends’ for a few weeks until we let on.”

“Now, you’re listening.” Rafa was smiling wide now.

“Wait, does Diggs know about us?” Rafa started taking off his pants. You needed what was inside.

“Nevermind. I know the answer, Jackass.”  

You ignored Rafa’s laugh as you began to make up for lost time.

-------

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My Kid Punched His Kid |4|

Single Dad!Teacher!Ben Hardy x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: A playground fight between two 8-year-olds bring together 2 lonely single parents.

In This Chapter: Our favorite single parents bickering. cute ass kids! More of Ben’s son! 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Here’s part 4 everybody!!! I’m so proud of this and really hope you like it. Please let me know what you think, I love your feedback!  Thank you thank you for all the nice messages i love them all. 

Y/N leaned against the wall outside the classroom, her arms crossed over chest with her fingertips tapping the sleeves of her light blue suede moto jacket. Her Y/E/C eyes scan the halls of mostly mothers waiting to pick up their kids, half of them wore basically nothing. She smirks, further presses her back to the wall.

Once the bell rings all the moms rush in probably ignoring their kids and fighting over the attention of the teacher. It was the perfect opportunity to go in and rush out before he could notice her. Peeling herself off the wall she walks in and approaches Abby’s desk. Looking down at the brightly colored name card with ‘Abagail’ written nicely in his handwriting. “How was the movie?” she asks.

Abby narrows her eyes, looking up at her mom with confusion, her brain trying to come up with how she knew. “How did you know we watched a movie?” she questions with suspicion evident in her voice. Y/N mouth opens in regret. Shit. She thinks on her feet and pouts her lips.

“I’m your mom. I know everything.” That was fair. Abby nods and agreement and continues to pack her bag in silence, her blue eyes look towards the corner of the room through the locks of curled hair. She was typically a fearless kid, sure she didn’t like the dark but she was the kid that punched another in the face without hesitation. She looks up at her mom who was trying not to look in the direction of her teacher's desk “Mom I need to ask you something?”

“What’s up, Babe?”

Abby takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders back to stand tall “Can me and James have a playdate?” her words come out fast like she’s out of breath, happy to get it over with. She stands tall, her eyes squint to show power…she learned it from a movie and kept it in the back of her mind just in case the occasion arose. She puts on her backpack and grips the glittery straps tightly.

Y/N bends down to meet Abby’s eye line, she sighs and rubs her shoulder lovingly. It was a terrible idea. Things would be awkward; the kids wouldn’t know but they would know. “Abs, you know Mr. Jones and I don’t get along. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she reasons. Abagail narrows her eyes and huffs, looking away from her mother. 

“Mom, this isn’t about you,” she says sternly, looking back at her. Y/N’s jaw drops in shock caught off guard from the sudden anger in her child. 

“Excuse me? What happened to my 8-year-old?” she questions with nervous laughter. 

“Mom,” she growls, folding her arms. The Y/H/C haired woman closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She gets up and looks down at Abby sympathetically. She loathed the man, but breaking her daughter's heart weighed heavier on her heart than her pride.

“Fine, I’ll go talk to him,” she says as calmly as she could. She turns to the man who was preoccupied with the moms who were trying to get his attention. “Mr. Jones?” Ben’s head snaps up and grins wildly, uttering regrets to the other moms and eagerly making his way to her. She smiles slightly as the eagerness.

“Can I help you?” he smirks. Y/N’s face becomes stone cold, she furrows her eyes together and clenches a fist at her side. 

“Abagail wants to have a playdate with James.” 

Ben hums and smiles, shifting on the heels of his feet “Is this a way for you to ask me out?” he responds. 

“No,” she hisses. “This is all for her.” 

“Fine, fine. Still, think you’re lying but! We are free on Sunday’s.” 

“We go to the park every Sunday…maybe he could join us.” She hated this, she really did and what made it worse was that shit eating grin on his stupid perfect face. 

“We’ll be there, 11 ok?” 

She forces a smile “See you then,” she says through gritted teeth. Now that was worse than childbirth. Her hands stay clenched, her pride deteriorated as she walked away from, not giving the satisfaction of talking to him anymore. Abby, however, was over the moon when Y/N told her as they walked out of the school, her smile made it almost worth it. As Y/N shut the car door her jeans pocket started to vibrate, she shifts and pulls it out from her back pocket.

‘My heads fine by the way, how’s yours?’

She looks at the school and then back at her phone ‘Ben’ illuminated from the screen. How the fuck did she get his number. ‘How do I have your number?’

‘You were practically begging for it last night…amongst other things.’

‘haha very funny asshole’

‘I put it in your phone while you slept, just in case you needed something. I didn’t snoop don’t worry.’

“Mom? They’re honking at us,” Abby groans, sinking father in her seat in an attempt to hide her face from the people watching. Y/n snaps out of the trance and throws her phone in the passenger seat and quickly drives off, being lectured by the kid about using her phone.

 The days dragged on, Y/N found herself purposely trying to bury herself in her work to get her mind off of him. Every night when she looked at herself in the mirror, she would see the marks she put on her. She remembered his touch all too well. The morning of the play date, a simple towel wrapped around her body that mark on her chest on full display. The deep purple color had finally begun to fade, the beads of water glide over it. She wiped the water away and grabbed her phone from the counter. ‘so today?’ God. Him again? Again meaning since the first time he messaged her, he didn’t blow her phone up like she was expecting. She bites her lip as she contemplates responding. He knows the kids have been talking nonstop about their playdate.

‘What about it?’

‘I’m just making sure you’re not chickening out.’

‘Fuck off.’  She grumbles complaints and throws her phone on the bed, refusing to look at the expensive piece of trash. You sleep with a guy one time and he thinks he can talk to you. She laughs at her thoughts and walks to her closet. She pauses, she was searching through her closet like she was 16 going on her first date. Hastily pushing the hangs to the side to catch a quick glance at her clothes before deeming them horrible. “I need new clothes,” she whispers to herself. Settling a pair of black yeans and a long beige sweater she put on a necklace with her initial and took one last look “This is fine, I don’t want him.”

It was a relief when they got their first to the park, Y/N wanted to throw up the whole way there “Mom where are they, it’s 11?” Abby questions, scanning the large park as she zipped up her pink jacket.

“They’ll be here soon, Baby. I promise,” she responds as she sits on the large plaid blanket. Secretly hoping they got sick or something. But as if on cue James runs up to Abby with his blond curls flapping in the wind.

“So you didn’t chicken out,” Ben says amused as he stands next to her. Y/N grimaces and scans him, black t-shirt and basketball shorts. Simple.

“It’s September, 60 and you’re in shorts?”

Ben laughs and sits down, running a hand through his hair “Function over fashion…unlike you. You look nice though.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and huffs out a thank you, turning her head to cover the heat rising to her cheeks “At least I’m warm.” Ben smirks at the effect he had on her.

“Mom, can we go play?” Abby asks as she digs around the large tote bag for a ball.

“Go, have fun. Please don’t hit anyone,” Y/N pleads with a smile. Abby sticks out her tongue and tucks the soccer ball under her arm.

“James, come here please,” Ben says using his dad voice. James pouts and stomps over, tucking his hands in his pants pocket. Ben leans forward and places his hands on the boys clothed shoulders “Please be good, ok? Be nice to the other kids.”

“Ok, Dad,” James whispers, his matching green eyes shift back and forth reluctant to meet Ben’s glare. Ben sighs and smiles softly before shooing him off. Ben watches as the kids run off to the playground, he was always fearful when they came to the park. James wasn’t good with other kids, his social skills were clearly lacking. He said a silent prayer he could hurt the poor girl again.

“You ok Jones?” Y/N asks as she pulls out her tablet.

Ben breaks eye contact with them and nods, he looks down at her drawing and looks up at her serious face “What are you doing?”

“Working,” she replies shortly. He slowly moves closer to her, shoulders brushing together.

“On what?”

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and narrows her eyes “I illustrate kids books. I’m working.” Ben nods and attempts to get closer, his head getting closer to her shoulder, she could feel his hair brush against her arm “What are you doing?”

“Let me see.” He opens his hand for the white pencil, his green eyes cutely looking into hers. Y/N hands over the pencil, praying that she saved her work. “How do I draw a happy little tree?” he asks her, causing her to giggle. Her lips form a tight line before going into a smile, her heart soared knowing he made a Bob Ross reference.  She puts her hand over his drags him over to tap on a few spots. Moving her hand she watches him try to copy one of her trees, it looked like one of their kids had drawn it but it was still cute. His tongue would poke out when he would try to concentrate.  “What do you think?” He asks excitedly looking at her with wide eyes and a proud smile.

“You did your best,” she responds, letting him down softly.

“You can tell me its shit,” he laughs and hands her back the pencil. When she takes it they lock eyes, reminiscing of how they saw each other in bed that night. Pure adoration. She opens her mouth to speak when sniffle sound flood their ears. They turn quickly to see James walk up the hill, rubbing his eyes.

“James, what happened?” Ben asks worriedly, jumping up from his seat to check to see if he had any cuts. While he was in dad mode, Y/N saved a picture of the altered drawing before erasing what he’d done to it and turning her attention to the boys.

“T-they won’t let me play,” he blubbers, covering his puffy eyes with the palms of his hand.

“Who, Bub?” Ben asks in between the sobs, leading him back to the blanket.

James turns over his shoulder and points to the group of kids play soccer. Ben closes his eyes and groans, he knew this would happen. It was rare to have an outing without something happening. It was like Arnold asking for one normal field trip with Ms. Frizzle: not going to happen. “Did you ask if you could play?” James responds with a tiny nod. Ben wasn’t fooled by his nod, he knew he was lying.

“What did you say?”

“Let me play,” his small voice came out even tinier.

“Mate you need to ask. With manners.”

James furrowed his eyebrows in irritation “I know dad,” he whines.

“I don’t think you do,” Ben retorts, his irritation showing.

Y/N puts her tablet aside and places her hand on Ben’s shoulder “Can I?” she suggests, motioning towards his son. Ben nods and sits back. “James, come here, Darling,” she speaks calmly. He calms at her soothing motherly tone and walks to her. “What are the magic words, James?” Y/N puts her hands on his shoulder, giving him loving rubs with her thumbs.

He shrugs at her “I don’t know.”

She hums “I think you do. Try it!”

“Please and thank you,” he finally answers. Y/N faces lights up and gives him a shake, making him laugh.

“There you go! I believe in you James, I want you to go back out there and ask them the right way,” she persuaded, taking a look at the other kids. She looked back at him kindly, like how she would talk to her own child. “Manners maketh the man, show them the English gentleman I know you are.” She turns him around, giving him a small squeeze of the shoulders and gently pushes him from her. They watch as the boy walks to the group of kids, James taps a tall boy on the shoulder and opens his mouth to speak. Ben started to bite on one of his nails like he was watching a suspense movie, he couldn’t handle another fight. He released the held breath when the taller boy let James into the circle and tossed him the ball.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Ben asks in shock, a surprised smile gracing his features.

Y/N shrugs and places her tablet back in her lap “Abby was the same way after Grant and I divorced. I needed to remind her about her manners and be nice about it. It takes time,” she explains. Ben grumbles and pulls out math homework from his backpack along with a red pen.

“You know he got kicked out of three nursery schools? He’s never been good with other kids.” She could sense the sadness and frustration in his tone, she wasn’t lying when she said it took time. It took 2 years for her daughter to get back to normal.

“He’s a good kid, Ben,” she says in reassurance. Ben frowns and tries to focus on his work, twirling the pen in between his fingers. he’d never really told anyone about James’ behavior, Gwil was really the only person that knew. His parents would scold him for how he was raising him, never good enough.

“You’re a good Dad. Don’t say that.”

Ben’s mouth forms a small o shape, he didn’t mean to say his thoughts “I-I didn’t mean to,” he tries to laugh it off. Y/N lowers her eyebrows and sucks in her bottom lip to show how unimpressed she was. Ben cocks his head in annoyance, narrowing his green eyes. The Y/H/C woman shrugs and returns to her work and lets him go back to his, dropping the subject… even though she was right.

It was mostly peaceful, in between her glances up at Abagail to make sure she was safe she would look over to Ben out of the corner of her eye. He would let out a light laugh when she couldn’t read the writing and would let out the occasional curse when he would cross off a wrong answer. It was comforting. “Mom!” Abby cheered as she ran up the hill, huffing when he reached the top.

“Are you having fun?” Y/N coos.

“Yeah…can we play Shoots and Ladders now?”

Ben’s ears perked up “Shoots and Ladders?” he questions.

“We play it every time we come,” Abby explains excitedly as she pulls the game from the bag. Y/N takes it from her and tells her to go get James. She nods and runs back down the hill while Y/N set the game up.

“Are you any good?” Ben taunts, laying down on his side and propping himself up with his elbow, greeting her with a smirk.

“I will destroy you,” she challenges.

With the kids gathered around the game started off as normal as possible, Abby and James frowning when their parents would get ahead of them. James’ small tongue poked out when he rolled the dice “I got a 6!” he cheered as he picked up the piece.

“Good job!” Ben clapped him on the back and smiled proudly as he moved up the board.

Y/N takes the dice in her hand and blew gently, making Ben roll his eyes at her. He was beyond annoyed that she got a ladder almost every time she rolled. She rolled gently and hummed in satisfaction “five,” she whispers moving her piece. Her elbow hits the corner of the board shifting the pieces and making the dice shift.

“That was a four,” Ben corrects, looking down at the dice.

Y/N looks up from the board “No it was a five,” she responds sternly.

Ben clenches his fist and touches her piece, moving it down the ladder “You rolled a four.”

She growls and moves it back “Seriously? Are you calling me a liar?”

“Look at the board! You rolled a fucking four!” he complains loudly, not quite a shout as he was trying to keep his cool.

“The board moved, it was a five Ben! You’re losing get the fuck over it.” she matches his tone. The kids look at each other sympathetically as their parents start to argue, their voices slowly starting to get louder with each insult. James looks around to see other people starting to look at them.

“Dad,” he says, pushing his leg to get his attention. The adults rise to their feet and start to get in each other face, their words getting louder, still talking about the board game.

“Did you rig the game Y/N? There’s no fucking possible way you got a ladder every time?” he yells.

“Oh? Not only am I liar I’m a cheater! Want to check the dice for a magnet?”

“Maybe. I. Do.”

“Fuck off! You’re a sore loser.”

“Mom! Mom?”

“What!” Y/N shouts, the pair looking down at the kids who were looking up at them with angered faces. “You guys are embarrassing.”

They pause and look around at the few pair of eyes that were on them. They look away, embarrassed of their actions “Abby, let’s go. Say goodbye,” she speaks slowly, not daring to look at him. They all gathered their things swiftly and in silence. Abby said her sad goodbye to James before running off to catch up to Y/N who had already started to walk away.

“I can’t believe you,” James huffed.

“I didn’t start it, and you had fun right?”

“Whatever, Dad.” James puts on his backpack and walks towards the parking lot leaving Ben alone in his thoughts. He pushed back his blonde curls and slung his bag over his shoulder, already rehearsing an apology.

Y/N threw the bag in her truck and slammed the door harshly, she growled when she saw Ben’s remorseful face in the dark reflection. “Came to yell at me more?” She asks, not turning to look at him.

“I came to say I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t-”

“Stop. You knew exactly what you were doing,” she holds a finger up before crossing her arms over her chest. Ben shoves his hands in his pockets and looks up briefly.

“I’m sorry, let me make it up to you…and Abby. We ruined their playdate.”

“And how do possibly expect to do that?” she sighs, leaning against the car.

Ben puts on a smile “Let me take you out.”

“On a date?” She raises an eyebrow. Unbelievable, she couldn’t believe he was standing in front of her after picking a fight in public and now asking for a date. Pathetic. She was pathetic for wanting to say yes. She knew she shouldn’t, it would be a disaster. “Ben. We shouldn’t, we can’t even get along in front of our kids without fighting,” she pointed out the obvious.

“I know! I know. Just dinner to say I’m sorry for making fools of us. You won’t regret it.”  

Y/N thinks about it for a moment, free dinner. Maybe with food stuffed in their mouths, they could actually get along. Maybe there would be alcohol, god knows they were going to need it if they went through with it.

“What’s in it for Abby?” She smiles.

“We’ll bring her back ice cream,” he smiles back at her.

“I will go out with you Ben, just dinner.”

“Sounds perfect. Friday night?”

Y/N winces “I can’t. I promised to watch Mary to pay Lucy back after that night.”

Ben blushes and ducks his head “How about Saturday?” 

“Saturday sounds perfect.”   

She watches him walk back to his car with his returned confidence, she mentally kicked herself for saying yes so easily. Seriously fuck this guy for making her feel this way. She hated the fights but she did manage to get a date out of it. Fuck. 

Taglist is open!

taglist: if you have been crossed out Tumblr will not let me tag you! Im so sorry

@florenceivy//@everybodyplaythegame//@jalcolmjeed//@itstonimydudes// @sunshine112// @virtualsheepeat//@ixchel-9275// @onceuponadetectivedemigod // @roger-the-killer-queen // @hemmofluke // @cosmicsskies // @itstonimydudes // @poteda // @valeriecarolinaw // @atzinxanath // @magicwithaknife // @sweetthangbaby // @yxseminx // @horror-w3irdo // @lelifesaver // @dreamer821 // @financialinstability // @angiiee25 //  @nopeko //  @monochromedeacon // @theflybi // @glitterdreamsz // @dtftheavengers // @discodeakyy // @roger-taylors-drumsticks // @mrsmazzello // @sweetjellytine // @miss2001babe // @bellas2silly // @spreadymercury // @ramibaby // @killahqueennn // @sherlocked-to-the-tardis // @letmelivetaylor // @rogertaylorscigarettes //  @maddistudiess // @aedeluca // @this-cute-shit-xo // 

[nomadmilk]

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 2

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Fluff. Mild swearing. Mild sexual suggestive themes... Peter being his adorkable self

Author’s Note: Work is definitely going to keep me busy... I’ve been writing nonstop, and I’ve used up a day just to recharge... But I made sushi today, so that’s pretty cool... Also, thank you for reading ☺️ And, enjoy!!

You made a promise to Pepper as an assistant to make sure everything remains the same when she gets back. The company needed to run as if she hadn’t left her post. You made sure Happy was up to par with security checks and the deliveries, anything that needed to be signed was given straight to Mrs Stark with a response warning of up to a week, you directed board meetings and had to shut all the smirking members up with your ability to actually run a company.

Well, that, and Tony Stark seems to occasionally be eavesdropping to make sure you weren’t upset by any of them. And even when he misread the situation, he’d appear in a Skype call just to check in.

He trusts you, not everyone else.

It wasn’t just businessmen that he was wary of. He invited you to his garage for a short talk. You thought it was to remind you about maintenance with his cars, but something else was concerning him.

“Could you do one more thing for me?” He asked. You shifted in your seat. “Could you look after him?”

“The… baby?” You answered. A silly response when you looked back on it.

“No. Peter Parker. Could you make sure he’s not, y’know, doing something stupid.”

“Oh. Um. Yes, of course.” You coughed. “I’m sorry, but what-what does this entail?”

As the months went, and the Starks went on a break, you gradually learnt what taking care of Peter Parker was.

You were walking with him. It’s about four in the afternoon, but it is Winter so New York’s street lights were bright against the jet sky, and the breeze was making the night colder than it should be. Peter wasn’t smart about what he wore so he was beside you shivering every so often. You chuckled every time you offered him a resolve.

Peter was stubborn in the most particular times, but you knew a couple of techniques to loosen him up.

“The shops haven’t closed yet, Peter, we could get you a scarf and hat and gloves-“

“No, I’m okay, really-“

“They might give you an Avenger’s discount.”

Peter rolled his eyes, hedging away from laughing. “What are we doing out here?”

You step in front of him, and the gleam in your eyes set him at ease. He’s nervous about what you’re going to say, but your expression makes his irritation with the cold dissipate. You were appropriately layered; a thick, large blazer coat, kept you so warm that there was a pink hue to your cheeks. Peter has to remind himself that this outing was still a professional ordeal for the both of you; he doesn’t want to ruin that. Your work heels were swapped to some trainers that were left in your office locker, but looked odd against your blouse and pencil skirt. Peter found you adorable, but you didn’t need to know that either.

… Was this a date?

“We’re here.”

There’s a pause before he rips his eyes off of you to pay attention. You two stood in front of an all-night amusement and arcade building, still blearing with neon lights. Might not be the best for Peter’s senses, but the look of wonder it gave him was priceless.

“Used to come here when I was younger.” You began. “They have the usual zombie shooters, and normal water shooters, and whack-a-moles...”

Another gust of wind blew against your backs, and you felt a drop of rain on your face.

“Has a couple gems in there too.”

“Like what?” Peter asked.

“Galaga. Space Invaders… There used to be a Super Mario, but I think that got unplugged. Oh! They even have Tetris. The non-flashy kind.”

Droplets began landing on Peter’s quaffed locks. Why was he hesitating? Those titles were temptation enough. He must be still worrying about the suit, or his responsibilities to the Avengers, or maybe a couple of personal projects. You see his brown irises look at you, then back behind him.

As the rain starts to pour, you lead him towards a decision. He’s slightly startled as you took him by the hands. Whether or not it was your smile again, or the way your hands felt small in his, he didn’t know how to react but to follow you. “Come on, Peter. I promise everything that you’ve been working on will still be there when we get back-“

“Y/N-“

“And,” you continue, “there’s a Duckhunt high score just waiting to be beat.”

Peter bites the bait finally grinning from ear-to-ear. You cheer, and this makes him more eager to go inside. “Fine, fine, a couple of hours. Tops.”

This was the first time that you and Peter spent time together out of hours. When you started your job, you guys would talk about agendas on everything going on the Avengers compound. Eventually, when Pepper was nearing her maternity leave, after making sure you were thoroughly taught the processes of Stark industries, she handed the reigns to you. The workload became strenuous. Despite this, meeting Peter Parker became a regular event, especially when Tony let Peter take over his responsibilities. You always wanted to hang out with Peter, without the other suited colleagues around the corner or tasks hindering the time, but it wasn’t anything high on your priority list. It was just nice chatting with him, especially with everyone else ten years, or more, your senior.

Now, here you two were spraying water at a screen with monsters that melt from the touch of it, and laughing at the probability on who could get the toy frog with a hat out of the claw machine. It was nice seeing him laugh, as you usually meet him with his bewildered visage. It’s a refreshing, and delightful change. He’s great-looking with a smile.

After a while, it wasn’t you dragging Peter all over the place, it was him ushering you over to play indoor mini adventure golf.

You won, of course. That, and Peter kept having his hands stuck to the putter.

You both got back to the claw machine with the frog in it. He bowed to you in your victory.

“As your prize, Lady Y/N, “ Peter pronounced his words, “I will win you this most prestigious reward.”

“Oh, Sir Parker,” you gasp, “this is a dangerous feat. How could you possibly-“

“Fear not, my lady, anything is possible for you.”

You had to clear your throat for that comment, watching him place his palms on the joystick and buttons of the claw machine. As you wished him luck, he inserts a quarter, and the machine chimes to life. He was concentrating on the claw, his hands clammy but still functioning on the control panel. You observe the claw yourself; you see it go left, swing a little, and come towards the two of you. You hear a tap of a button, and the claw descends down.

“Oh my, God, Peter, I think you might just get it.”

He glances to the side of him, distracted by you. Your eyes hadn’t noticed him, as yours were still intent on the toy frog. His face wasn’t far away from yours, and you were just biting your bottom lip slightly. You let go of it, and Peter saw your mouth return to its full plump size.

He lost the frog.

You cursed under your breath. “So close! We cannot free them today, my knight.”

Noticing the silence, you face him. He’s still staring at your lips.

“Peter?”

He snaps out of his trance, laughing uncertainly, “Sorry, I couldn’t get it for you.”

His bashfulness makes you laugh. For a superhero, he still has a knack for being awkward. “It’s not a problem, Peter.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“For what?”

“This.” His head gestures to the machine in front of him, a emoticon flashing bright teeth from the background of it. “I’ve just been too overworked. I know I’ve been doing his job for a while, but Mr Stark is retiring, he wants me to step up, and I want to, it’s just-… What if I’m not right for the job? If I can’t do it, I mean, I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“There’s a lot of pressure on you, but you’ll get there.” You say, your lips in a hopeful simper. “I’m sure he doesn’t want you to rush, he just wants you to be ready. I mean, if you have that much doubt, you do know you can back out whenever. Tony’ll understand.”

“I don’t want to back out from this.”

“So, even with the pressure, and the choice of quitting, you want to stay?”

You see Peter take a deep breath, and survey you, a knowing look on your face. You knew Peter’s philosophy of power and responsibility all too well.

“You’re too good for this world, Peter.” You brush a hair away, glancing at him. “And, I just, uh, wanted to say – even with everything else going on – it’s been really great to spend time with you.”

“Yeah.” He said. “It’s been awesome.”

“Have you eaten today? There’s a diner nearby we can go to.”

His Spidey senses tingled. “Erm. It’s still raining.”

You point your thumb to a candy machine, smirking. “So you want me to suck on a lollipop because you’re afraid of a little rain?”

Peter blinked. His heart began racing. Why’d he have to think about you sucking on-

“Do they have pancakes?” Was all Peter could muster.

[rockandroobuckaroll]

Just a rant to get some stuff off my chest.

I don't even know if I have the words to say how I feel at the moment. I just feel at the end of my tether. I've been working practically nonstop these past six months with only either one or two days off a week that are very rarely in a row. I'm so burnt out I can't bring myself to do stuff that I actually want to do when I do have time off, because i want to spend that time catching up on sleep or just sitting around and resting because I don't have the energy to do what I want to do.

But I also can't take holiday off from work because I'm only on a four hour contract. So rather than earning my usual roughly £250 a week I'll be earning a solid £38 and it's just not financially viable. At the same time I feel like I need to, just to have some time to cool down from the stress of going from losing my old job, to gaining two jobs a week later, to then being to busy to do my second job, to being promoted to an assistant manager that I really don't feel qualified to do. I just feel so overwhelmed and incompetent at what I do.

My depression and overall mental health has been at an all time low recently, which is staggering considering my past and two acts on my life by now. I honestly don't know how I'm still functioning. It feels like I'm in survival mode constantly, but whenever something happens my mind just fogs over and I can't think straight at all. Like the other week I was trying to count the tills at work when the stupid cash counter started playing up, so I told the other manager I was on with just to let him know I might be running late because of the dumbass machine. He then proceeded to sit in the office with me watching and my mind just completely seized up to the point where I forgot how to work the stupid thing. All you have to do is pile the notes on it then remove them once you're done and I couldn't think straight enough to even do that. I just felt so stupid in the moment. And even though he's nice enough not to say anything I couldn't help but feel like he was honestly surprised that I managed to get the assistant managers job... even if I only applied because I felt like I had to. I didn't actually expect to get it.

So work is going poorly, I can't do anything in my free time because I'm too exhausted and I haven't even got round to my s/h habits coming back tenfold and my ED being worse than it's ever been. I physically can't force myself to eat if I'm having a bad day and at the moment that's all I seem to be having. But I've reached the point where I feel sick because I'm not eating, but then if I do eat something I feel sick because I've eaten, if that makes any sense. This constant state really isn't helping with me being able to think clearly either but I can't do anything about it to stop it. And to top it all off both my laptop is nearly in two and I dropped my phone and cracked all the screen yesterday so that's going to be an expensive fix.

I don't know, I just feel so useless and overwhelmed and just fed up with everything. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can't talk to people about it because I don't really know the people at work that well, I dont have any friends that live near me anymore and my parents are the kinds of people that don't believe in mental health issues and think it's all just a cry for attention. I'm just tired I guess.

[mzargentum]

The Stormsender’s Daughter | Chapter VIII | What Happened To You?

Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX

Word Count: 1,872

Warning: Violence, abuse, gore, death

The bruises.

They never went away.

Two.

Four.

Seven.

Entire limbs would be covered when you were near me.

But I knew.

I knew what was happening to you.

You didn’t want to tell me.

You didn’t want to admit that even the brightest of them all could feel pain.

You wanted to give me something to believe in.

I believed you deserved better.

I knew it.

I was going to see to it.

Free you from the filth that hurt you.

One way...or another.

No matter how hard he screamed...

No matter how much he bled...

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

“You gonna take that?”

Prae didn’t answer. She just stared at the screen as the device sang in her palm.

Eirenne was starting to get fed up. He called her every hour nonstop and would blow up her phone if she didn’t answer once.

No matter what she was doing or who she was with.

Plus, the bruises were multiplying. Eirenne rarely saw them nowadays, but Prae was giving and returning less hugs. Distancing herself from people to keep from touching them.

She winced at nearly every motion.

Constantly complained about being in some sort of pain. Frankly, it was infuriating the silver haired princess.

And it needed to stop.

“No...no, it’s fine. I told him where I would be today”, Prae finally replied declining the call, slipping it back into her pocket.

“Okay”.

As they returned to their studies...

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

“Ugh, come on, man!!”, the Tenebraen princess slammed her fist down on the table, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“I know, I’m sorry”, Prae scrambled for her device. “He’s enthusiastic”.

“He’s a pest!” Eirenne shouted breaking down her friend’s defense. “Honestly, what is so important that he has to be in your ear 24/7? He doesn’t even care that you’re in school most of the day!!”

Prae averted her exhausted gaze from her friend’s teal iris’ to her phone.

“His voice is probably plastered in your head by now. He can wait a few more hours”.

“Yeah...yeah...you’re right”, Prae agreed. Her voice heightening, seemingly, along with her mood and shutting her phone off for good.

“Attagirl”, Eirenne teased her friend ruffling her short, fluffy hair, sending cute little giggles floating from her throat. “Besides, I saw you first. It’s my turn to love you”.

“Yeah...he’ll be fine. He can wait a little while”, Prae affirmed as she plopped her cellular into her bag.

Finally, things were back to normal.

Days went on and Prae seemed to be back to her completely cheery self. Their conversations went back to being 90% Prae rambling like usual and Eirenne providing snarky commentary when she felt it was needed, entertaining and annoying her friend at the same time.

It was how it should be.

They were both happy.

“Uuuugggghhhh, why do we have to study during study hall anyway?”, Eirenne complained as the girls made their way to the school library.

“You’re kidding, right? That’s probably the laziest question you’ve ever asked me”, Prae judged her friend’s sluggish manner.

“It’s not like you need to study anyway, you’re doing just fine”.

“Well, duh, I know I don’t”, Prae triumphantly beamed as they sat down. “But if you don’t graduate with me and I have to hear you bitch and moan about having to take all of your classes over again, that’ll give me a permanent headache”.

“Thanks”, Eirenne chuckled.

“I mean, you do realize you have to pass math to graduate, right?”

“Unfortunately, I’m aware that I have to know how to multiply 2 and 7 to be considered a functioning adult”, the silver haired teen sarcastically joked.

“What is 2 times 7?”

“27″.

“...I can’t help you”, Prae shut the textbook in defeat sending Eirenne into a fit of laughter before being shushed by their classmates around them at the other tables.

“Shut up, stupid”, Prae whispered also in a small laughing fit. “You’re gonna get us in....”, Prae’s eyes suddenly widened and as she stared behind her friend, “...trouble”.

Confused, Eirenne turns around to see a young man dressed in black and red outside the window behind them, staring intensely at Prae.

He was a rather dashing young man from what Eirenne could see.

Fair toned skin, amber eyes, short and nicely combed.....maroon hair?

Wait...no. It can’t be...

Eirenne’s body stiffened. Her palms grew sweaty. It couldn’t be him...it’s been years.

How could he have found her? But....he didn’t seem to care for the silver haired girl rather than her innocent jade eyed friend.

“Who’s that...?”, Eirenne asked with gritted teeth, balling up one of her fists.

“My boyfriend”, Prae replied, evident fear in her voice.

Still bitterly staring at Prae, the man made his way to the back of the building.

“Um...I should go see if he’s okay”, Prae stammered as she stood from her seat.

“Wait, are you serious?!” Eirenne loudly whispered. “Did you see the look on his face?”

“It’s fine”, Prae reassured her worried friend, “he’s probably just a little bitter about me ignoring his calls. I’ll just set this straight and be right back. No sweat”.

“Really. No sweat”. Eirenne was clearly unconvinced.

“I promise. I’ll be back in a second”, the jade eyed girl smiled toward her friend before sneaking toward the bathrooms in the back of the building.

It couldn’t have been him...he was too young. His hair was much shorter...his clothes looked less...lived in, but that stare...those eyes. 

Regardless of who he was, Prae was afraid...she was never afraid of anything...and what kind of coward would Eirenne be if she allowed anything to happen to her best friend?

Once the librarian retreated into her office, Eirenne silently followed her friend down the corridor to the bathrooms.

They were under construction due to foundation problems. Part of the girl’s bathroom had caved in on a student some time ago killing her.

Because of overcrowding, they were in the process of adding showers to the bathrooms, but because of the incident production had been delayed for some time.

The light flickered, but it was mostly dark. The walls had cracks for days as well as the floors and ceiling. There had been multiple cave ins around the sides of the hallway leading toward the bathrooms. Looked like no one had even bothered trying to fix it.

As Eirenne approached the bathrooms, she noticed the floors coated in water and the closer to got to her destination, she could hear voices coming from the girl’s bathroom.

Not wanting to cause alarm, she crept closer to get a view of the two of them standing by the showers...

“Stop lying to me...”.

“I’m not, sweetie, I promi-AGH!”

Eirenne lightly jumped upon hearing the slap to Prae’s flesh. Her blood beginning to boil one thousand degrees a second.

“Don’t give me that, you little whore!”

“I’m not lying to you! I’ve been here all day, you can ask Eir-egh! Gghk!”

“I’m not asking that little freak friend of yours shit”, the vicious character growled with his fist clasped upon Prae’s throat.

Desperately pawing at his wrist, tears began to stream down her fair cheeks.

“Please...I can’t breat-AH!”. A shriek sailed from her lungs as her back was slammed against the linoleum wall.

“Good”, the man hissed glaring down upon Prae. His amber gaze shifting to a lustrous gold. Like a viper squeezing the life out of his helpless prey.

“Beg for me to let you go...”.

“Please...”, Prae pleaded as he tightened his grip. “I...I can’t...breathe”.

“Yeah, just like that...”, the man hissed. “You’re gonna show me what you’re really worth alive...You filthy whore...”, the young man licked his lips before unbuttoning his shirt.

“..Pl-please, no...I-I won’t ever ignore your calls again...I swear..”, Prae helplessly whimpered as the man yanked her panties clean from her body, emitting a pained cry from the innocent Prae.

Eirenne, paralyzed at the end of the shower, began to lightly pant as her overheating blood shifted to a black. The pain keeping her to her knees as she watched her friend abuser in action...had he ever done this before?

Prae would’ve told her....wouldn’t she?

A sudden sizzling caught the attention of the silver haired girl as the white gloves coating her hands began to burn away revealing her blackened hands.

The daemonic energy within their contents infecting the rest of her body, taking over her mind, making her lose control.

With all her might she fought to keep her head....don’t lose control....don’t lose control...don’t lose...

All went silent as the young girl clasped her eyes shut....her heartbeat bursting through her eardrums.

The only other distinctive sound...

...was the clinking of metal...

...from a belt.

“RRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

A monstrous roar echoed throughout the room, before...

“AAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!” A blood curdling scream from the jade eyed girl upon the hand perturbing from her boyfriend’s stomach.

The man looked down toward the intrusion of his abdomen before returning his gaze to Prae whom was still in his grasp. 

Regurgitating blood upon her face before shakily turning to see the fanged teen, black veins pulsating throughout her face.

Her blackened daemonic stare paralyzing him.

“You can rot with the rest of them...”, the daemon girl growled before pulling her arm back to where her hand was within his wound.

Shifting her hand upward, his violent screams pulsated through the bathroom as Eirenne inched her way through his body, her arm intruding the his internal anatomy until she reached his heart.

Clutching onto the cardiac organ, squeezing it, a field of electricity wrapped about it, sending violent jolts throughout ripping it to shreds. 

The pulsations causing him to finally release the mortified Prae whom was now trapped to watch him gag on his own crimson. 

Blood seeping into the cracks of the linoleum below.

Once she was released, Eirenne withdrew her arm from his body causing him to crash to the floor upon his knees in front of the tearful Prae. 

Clinging to life by a thread, he slowly reached for the terrified girl just before the daemon girl summoned a telekinetic force field in the center of his brain, instantly expanding it sending shards of blood and brain throughout the entire bathroom.

Finally, sending him collapsing dead to the floor...

All that was left...was Prae.

On the floor, panting in fear, in front of her abuser’s mutilated corpse...

...and her best friend...finally realizing the truth...

“...t...that was...lightning...y...y-your hands...”.

Her stuttering voice began to soothe Eirenne back to her normal state.

Her eyes and veins returning to their proper hue...

“...you...you look just like her...Eirenne....”.

The silver haired girl merely stared at her friend, panting vigorously...

“...you’re...”.

“...the Pythoness...”.

A sudden shriek startled the girls. Abruptly turning around to see the librarian dash from the bathroom screaming for help down the corridor.

The frightened bloodstained girl sent a telekinetic pulse through the side wall.

“EIRENNE!!!”, Prae shouted toward her friend to no avail.

She had to get home.

The secret was out...

Muerlinian Zephyr was in Tenebrae.

The Pythoness was reborn.

Tagging: @digitalkanvas @insomniasix @aquathemermaidstripper @glacian-apocalypse @a-new-recipehhh @dizzymoogle @prettyprompto

[wileysenses-blog]

Bold Text (Bellarke One shot)

A/N: Teen for swearing. Bellarke Modern AU, long distance, love confession

It was always easier to be bold over text. Words were almost meaningless without the tone behind them there to reinforce them. You could confess your love but it didn’t matter as much when they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes and the way you tore at your lip as you waited for a reply.

And so that’s why Bellamy did it.

Read on ao3 or

It had been two months since he had last seen Clarke and it was honest to god driving him insane. He was so sick of staring at his phone and waiting, waiting, waiting.

He’d been waiting four goddamn years for Clarke Griffin to realize that he was in love with her but now here he was, in Chicago, and there she was, in Washington, texting him about how she couldn’t make up her mind where to go to graduate school even though she had already gotten into University of Chicago and he was right fucking there, waiting for her as always. Yet, she was still acting as though there was some other choice.

Clarke: Rice is offering me more money

Bellamy actually scoffed at the message. Clarke was going to grad school to become a doctor; money was not something of her concern.

Clarke: Maybe I should just drop out instead

Bellamy rolled his eyes at her message. She was only trying to illicit a response from him since he hadn’t replied as fast as she had wanted him to. His fingers hovered above the keyboard. He wanted so badly to remind her about Chicago and all that it had to offer, all that he had to offer. But he was sick of begging her to think of him when she consumed his every thought.

Bellamy: That’s probably your best option

Clarke groaned in frustration. She knew she was being annoying, she’d been complaining about grad school nonstop for the last five months, but she was waiting for him to get a fucking clue and tell her to go to Chicago and stay with him. What was she supposed to do? Invite herself to live with him?

Clarke: If I drop out can I crash on your couch?

Bellarke: I don’t let people mooch off of me. If you’re living on my couch you better be working or going to school.

Clarke: So what’s you’re saying is that if I go to UCH I can stay on your couch?

Okay so maybe Clarke was inviting herself to live with him but maybe if he wasn’t so dense he would’ve realized that’s all she wanted a year ago when he got the job in Chicago and decided to move away after graduation instead of staying with her for her last year of undergrad.

Bellamy: If you go to UCH you can have a whole room to yourself

Bellamy really needed Clarke not to say things like this when she was only considering going to UCH. His mind was too imaginative and all he could picture now was a lazy Sunday morning with Clarke in his apartment, in her pjs, sitting at the kitchen counter while he made breakfast. He could picture them spending all of their time together until eventually she would realize her feelings for him and-

See, dangerous things were happening just at the mere possibility of Clarke coming to UCH.

Bellamy: I wouldn’t want you ruining my couch

Bellamy Blake is not in love with you, Clarke reminded herself,  he is only being nice because he doesn’t want you staying on his couch, he wants you to room with him. Because you’re friends. Nothing more. But all clarke could picture was Bellamy walking around the apartment, shirtless, some Saturday night and them falling asleep watching movies together on the couch and she would cuddle up against him and-

Roommates. Just roommates. Platonically living together. With no cuddling.

Clarke: You really think rooming together would be a good idea?

Bellamy was on the edge of his rope. No, he did not want to fucking room with Clarke Griffin. He wanted to live with her. He wanted to wake up and have her right there, in his bed, with a sleepy smile on her face and her hair a mess from sleep but beautiful as ever. He actually thought rooming with her might be absolute torture- having the love of ther life a door down from him but still not his?

And, oh god, what if she brought someone home?

No, okay, Clarke Griffin is going to UCH and she will be living with him because he is going to tell her how he feels right now.

Bellamy:

Fuck, wait, was he actually going to do this? He typed out a message: Only if you think me being in love with you would be a problem. He instantly hit the back button, erasing the message.

His phone screen eventually dimmed and he tapped on it. A bubble indicating Clarke was typing appeared on the screen- she was going to say something else and then they’d change the subject and he’d be right back where they started.

Not this time. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Bellamy: Clarke

Her bubble disappeared. Now he had to think of a follow-up.

Bellamy: You got into every grad school you applied to but all I want is for you to be here, in Chicago, with me because I am so fucking in love with you that I think if I had to go another year without seeing you I would stop being able to function as a human being

Sent.

Bellamy’s heart was racing and his hands shook but some small part of him felt victorious.

Bellamy: tldr; please come to Chicago because I’m selfish and think you should make one of the biggest decisions of your life based on me

Fuck.

The victory was short lived and dread started to set in.

Bellamy contemplated throwing his phone in the trash. Or maybe he should block Clarke’s number. If he never heard from her again then no harm, no foul, right?

The typing bubble appeared on the screen and Bellamy swore his heart stopped beating for a second. He didn’t think of her reply. He didn’t think of the full repercussions of his actions.

The bubble went away and for one, brief moment he felt relief but then his phone buzzed. She had finished the message and sent it.

Clarke: 1.

Bellamy groaned. Not only is she probably rejecting him, but he also had to read her lecturing him via text, now?

Clarke: 1. The only grad school I ever cared about is UCH 2. The only thing for me in Chicago is you Bellamy so why tf do you think I want to go there? Because 3. I’m in love with you too you idiot

Clarke: 4. Did you really just confess your love for me over text I hate you this was supposed to happen in person Bellamy

Bellamy had to concede to her last point because, fuck, he was an idiot for doing it this way where he couldn’t grin in Clarke’s face like he was right now and kiss her like he’d been waiting to for the last four years.

Bellamy: I’m sorry

Clarke: You should be

Bellamy: You really love me back?

Clarke: Yes you big stupid idiot I’m in love with you and I have been for the last two years and I miss you so fucking much my whole body hurts

Bellamy was still grinning. His cheeks had started to hurt.

Bellamy: I’m in love with you too

Clarke tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes. That was probably the only part of her message that Bellamy had paid any attention to. But she couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face when she replied.

Clarke: UCH it is then