#happiness is a dry martini

[gameraboy2]

Happiness is a Dry Martini by Johnny Carson, 1965 Illustrated by Whitney Darrow, Jr.

[nostalgia-eh52]

1965 Happiness is A Dry Martini by Johnny Carson

Illustrated by Whitney Darrow Jr.

Happiness Is...

Having the smart aleck who was Most Likely To Succeed make it-on the FBI's ten "Most Wanted' list.

[kilianromero]

Cocktail Fun

[odinsblog]

“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.

But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.

And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.

Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.

And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.

The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.

Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”

—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK!

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance, love at first sight.

Warnings: none.

Notes: this one is comparably shorter than chapter one.

PART ONE | PART THREE

Lucifer was absolutely baffled, so many things happened in one day. First, a very gorgeous and tall seraphim angel decided to come and stay at the hotel to oversee its progress and on top of all that, the said angel is that damn radio demon's mother.

Lucifer watches as the angel, who he learned that goes by the name [y/n] is still currently scolding her son. Him, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Husk are at the bar area just watching it unfold.

Alastor sitting on the couch, head hung low in shame but there's still a smile on his face.

“So... You killed your father and many more? And also ate them....?” [y/n] asked, disappointed in her voice. Alastor's deer ears lay flat as he remained seated as he listened to his mother.

“Oh god, my son is a cannibal!” [y/n] cries, Niffty wiping away her tears as [y/n] carried the smaller girl in her arms—how did it happen? She just somehow was raising her arms for uppies while the taller woman was scolding her boss and the older woman just did so without thinking and carried her and then resumed to scolding Alastor.

“But they deserved it, mother! He deserved it for—” Alastor tried to defend himself, his smile strained.

[Y/n]'s own smile widened, eye twitching, “Who said you could speak? My own son is talking back to me!” she cries, smiling through the tears, her wings puffed up in anger and Alastor shuts up his mouth immediately.

“Where did I go wrong in raising you? I didn't raise you like this.” [y/n] sobs, Niffty handing her a handkerchief where the taller woman accepted and used it to blow her nose.

“Yikes.” Lucifer muttered in amusement as he sipped his dry martini while watching the angelic woman continuing to scold Alastor. Now that's my kind of woman. He thought before almost choking his drink. Hold up. What is wrong with him today? He barely knew the woman and he is already thinking like this.

“You okay there pal? I'm pretty sure you almost choked on your drink.” Angel Dust laughs and Lucifer just glares at him.

Charlie giggles beside him excitedly, “Isn't it amazing? Alastor reunited with his mom! And heaven finally decided to help us!” Charlie squeals and Vaggie hums in agreement.

“Well... It surely isn't a happy one as smile's is getting scolded even more.” Angel Dusts laughs and Husk chuckles behind the counter.

Back to the mother and son, Alastor is finally done with seeing his mother cry. He hugged her in which the older woman was weakly hitting his chest while she sniffled. Niffty being pressed in-between the two. She's just glad to be there.

“I am sorry, mother. I'm still your son.“ Alastor says softly and [y/n] sniffled against her son's embrace.

“I'm still mad at you.” she says, and Alastor's smile widens every slightly, “I know.” he says with a grin before getting his forehead flicked once more by his mother, making him winced in pain. [Y/n] gently lowering Niffty down to the floor. Lucifer and Husk snickering at the bar area.

[Y/n] pouted as she finally left her son's embrace, “And here I was waiting in heaven for so long wondering what's taking you so long and only for you to be here in hell? My goodness...” [y/n] sighs, pinching her own nose, her other hand on her hip.

“My bad.” Alastor says with a grin and [y/n] sighs, wiping the tears away from her eyes then clapping her hands together and a smile is back on her face as she turns around to look at the other hotel crew.

“Well, I suppose that is over. I am sorry for the scene I've caused, this young man right here is to blame.” [y/n] deadpans, pointing her arms towards Alastor who was lounging on the couch, he just gave a thumbs up.

[Y/n] sighs, shaking her head. “Back to business, I myself am not really sure why Sera decided to change her mind but she's my boss so... I don't really have a choice.” [y/n] says with a shrug, smoothly lying to them and the others just look at her with a slight deadpanned expression.

“I will be staying here for the time being, Sera didn't exactly say for how long...” She says before her eyes widened, Sera really didn't tell her how long she'll be here.

“I am starting to wonder if I accidentally got myself kicked out of heaven.” She muttered and Lucifer snickered slightly, looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

“Well if that's the case, there's a space made just for you in hell.” Lucifer says smoothly and [y/n] smirked, “My... Special treatment for lil' ol' me by the king of hell himself? It would be an honor.” she says with a small smirk, approaching the bar area and standing in front of the sitting man, looking down on him.

“I feel like they're each other's types.” Angel Dust whispers to Vaggie in which he gets elbowed to the side by the fallen exorcist.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance as he watched the scene unfold, not my mother. Speed walking to the two, Alastor held his mother's shoulders protectively and slid her away from the king of hell.

“Alastor, dear... I can handle myself.” [y/n] chuckles and Alastor just smiled, though his smile strained a little bit. Clearly annoyed how the king of hell is getting smooth with his mother.

“I'll be showing my mother around and show her to her room. Please excuse us.” Alastor says as he gently drags [y/n] with him upstairs with Niffty following the two.

The others just watched in amusement, still hearing the two's slowly muffling voices as they left the room.

“Mama please, he's the king of hell. Why are you already getting so chummy with him?” Alastor's muffled voice can be heard as they walk away.

“Have you seen him, Alastor? Heaven's scrolls didn't do him any justice, he's gorgeous!” [y/n] says with a laugh and a followed groan from Alastor. Their voices can no longer be heard as they were getting farther and farther away.

Angel Dust nudges Lucifer and wiggles his eyebrows at the short king, the arachnid teasing the man as he can really see Lucifer's flustered cheeks.

“You two looked nice together, you better shoot your shot.” Angel Dust says with a smirk which prompted Lucifer to stammer.

“Huh? What? I just met her for God's sake!” Lucifer says, pulling his collar away from his throat as he awkwardly chuckles.

“Please... Everyone can see you were eyeing her like a piece of candy.” Husk says gruffly behind the counter, scoffing.

Lucifer blushed, nervous that he wasn't slicked at all.

“Can't blame him to be honest.” Charlie says with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. Vaggie just rolls her eyes playfully, “Still, she's suspicious.” she says and Angel Dust scoffs, “Please, when are you not? Besides, if you ever end up right, I'm sure short king over here can handle her.” He says with a shrug before smirking at Lucifer, “Just admit you were admiring the sexy angel lady, couldn't blame ya toots!” he giggles.

“I wasn't... You guys are just seeing things.” he deadpans, his ears tinted pink. His daughter, Maggie, Angel Dust, and Husk just gave him a raised eyebrow. Clearly not believing him in the slightest.

“Whatever you say, short king.” Angel Dust says in amusement.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @h3110kitty0 @bethleeham @hcneyiced @ashleygryffindor @ghostdoodlen @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @cupidsgift @shilladodo

[strawberrystrangers]

Do you think JJ would constantly stay over at readers house bc he feels safe there compared to his own??

🦋anon

I love this!! I also kind of love the idea of the reader having accepting parents too bc that scene with Kiara’s hurt hurt!!

This literally just became a “please let JJ have a win with a girlfriend’s family who actually loves him” write-up…

Yeah he loved the independence that the chateau gave him, but your house had the company and it had the warmth of family. Your parents have stern rules about bedroom etiquette but they’ve practically given him the spare room whenever.

He definitely swings by after altercations with his dad; he’s been walking the street for hours trying to get the courage to ask if he can see you (& he does this every time, even after the 50th visit) because his insecurity is so deeply rooted in feeling like a burden (fuck you, Luke) to everyone.

So when he says he should go, because he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, you’re always responding to it with “please stay” and not a “you can stay if you want” knowing he needs the clarifying reassurance that you want him there.

You’ll ask your parents downstairs if he can stay, and they’re always happy to say yes.

Your dad will talk to him in the kitchen while he’s making the dinner, and JJ helps with his experience from his summer jobs in the golf club kitchen. Your dad will never fail to find out how bad the altercation was, and give gentle advice and care and love and reassurance to jj, emphasising that he’s always welcome and never alone. Your dad is basically the Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting to Matt Damon. Your dad will hug him for as long as JJ needs it and there’s a few shared tears between them.

At dinner, your parents are always so interested in what JJ’s been up to—and when he divulges about the gold and his adventures, they believe him and want to hear more. They always make him feel like they see potential in him and that he’s not destined to be like his father & that his name isn’t tainted with a pre-made future.

JJ will talk mechanics with your mum, she’ll ask him if he knows what’s up with their car and he’ll go on this whole nerd talk about it.

He’ll help clean up: he washes the dishes and you dry them while your parents sit at the table still, sipping beer or martinis.

The recurring thought they always have, and the recurring thing they’ll always tell JJ is: “you have the kindest soul who has found it’s other half in our daughter” and they always make it clear that they’d rather him with you—a Pogue with gentleness—than the boys who attempt to butter them up—Kooks with misogynistic views.

[landoslvr]

MRS CLARKEY | g. clarke

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs clarkey'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x george clarke

faceclaim: steph hui

notes: first piece for mrs george out of the wag universe. steph is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs clarkey, hopefully you like it! this is the longest one I've done so far.. definitely want to do a fic for their first meeting and for the useless hotline podcast- maybe even the ski trip!

liked by user, user and 37,923 others

yourinstagram happy halloween 💋💋

view all 281 comments

user you're literally so hot y/n

user I want to be you so bad

user how can I look like that

user jeez u flexible or something baby?

user the dress? the hair? the makeup??? unreal

yourinstagram thank you!! I did it myself xxx

user shes godly

user have fun tonight!!

user she's the only girl I know to have an impromptu photoshoot and then go out drinking

yourinstagram gotta take the outfit for a spin!!!

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 58,283 others

georgeclarkeey you should've seen the other guy!

view all 198 comments

user george wth

user its the vomit on the cheerleading outfit for me

chrismd10 looking good mate

wroetoshaw nice eyebrow....... eyebrow singular

georgeclarkeey yes I got that thank you

user AS IF Y/N FOUND HIM ON HER NIGHT OUT

user I KNOW!! I came from her tweets after everyone tagging this guy

chrismd10 you getting referred to as 'this guy' on your own post is so funny to me

georgeclarkeey well, you're huge aren't you?

imallexx loving the new look mate

user waiting for y/n to join the comments 🫣

user me too 😶😶

yourinstagram its great to know what you look like with both of your eyebrows george! a pleasure to have met you, despite the circumstances...

georgeclarkeey my left eyebrow was too intimidated by seeing betty boop in the flesh it ran away!

user my heart 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, max_balegde and 37,192 others

yourinstagram went on the useless hotline podcast this week to talk about me saving the george clarke! thank you very much for having me boys 🤍

view all 302 comments

user she's just so pretty

user as if model queen y/n saved youtuber george clarke 😭 not over that at all

georgeclarkeey always a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime you feel like scraping me off of the pavement

yourinstagram anytime you need me, I'll be there to call the ambulance

user LOVE that coat

georgeclarkeey also feeling something.. or someone.. is missing from this post?

yourinstagram idk what you want from me here clarke

max_balegde ahhhhhh!!!!!! such a pleasure to meet the woman that singlehandedly saved my co-host from death <3 thanks so much for coming on, martini besties for life now

yourinstagram call me anytime you need multiple olives!!!

max_balegde three olives, extra dry!!

user stop I hope they all stay friends 😭

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 39,219 others

yourinstagram casual 'saved your life/face' dinner post

view all 331 comments

user nahhhhhhhhh because this is a date

user y/n looks so good 😭😭

user lets not ignore George Clarke wearing something other than a t-shirt

chrismd10 impressed you managed to get him in slacks!

georgeclarkeey your mum brought them for me

user THAT DRESS

user I just wanna be you y/n

user George has major cake its not funny

max_balegde literally should be criminal

georgeclarkeey you saved my life I am eternally grateful

yourinstagram 👽👽👽

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 40,938 others

yourinstagram visiting the mountain tops with some new friends x

view all 370 comments

user bitch we know that's george clarkey, fess up

max_balegde the love of my life really tbh, you look sooooo good

yourinstagram max I'll cry

user drop the link for the jackets!!

user that is george clarke's watch missy

user so you just so happen to be on a ski trip at the same time at george and his friends?????????? coincidence? I think NOT

user I know george is using ever fibre of his being not to comment on this right now

liked by yourinstagrm, miniminter and 59,902 others

georgeclarkeey there's 'snow' way it's this cold in the mountains

view all 286 comments

user Y/N TAKE OF THE SKI MASK COWARD

user we literally know it's her

chrismd10 handsome fellas

user literally just tell us you're dating guys

wroetoshaw high altitude my friend

user love these pics of the boys together

arthurtv distinguished skiers and snowboarders

charliehutchens really good ones too

user do you think y/n had to throw her phone out of her hotel room to stop herself from commenting?

user yes, yes I do

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and 37,981 others

yourinstagram out and about ✈️🗺️

view all 320 comments

user should we tell y/n that she posted a picture of George in the 4th slide and then proceeded to cut his head out of the 6th one????

user let her live in peace I guess

user wow no one is immune to stupidity these days 😭

user can't believe they took her so young

georgeclarkeey you're not getting that poster back

yourinstagram if you dont return my harry styles poster I will sue

georgeclarkeey I live with a lawyer, so good luck with that darling

user DARLING???? LITERALLY JUST PUNCH ME IN THE FACE NEXT TIME GEORGE

liked by yourinstagram, stephentries and 61,192 others

georgeclarkeey chris informed us that you all know we're dating so no more discreet photo dumps I guess?

view all 401 comments

user WAR IS OVERRRRRR

user quick everyone act like we didn't see this shit coming

user the way he tried to do her dirty in the last 3 pics but he literally can't

user she's just so pretty

user I wanna be her

max_balegde mrs clarkey!!!!!!

yourinstagram !!!!!

chrismd10 you're so welcome mate

user she's so gorgeous

user kills me

user george x y/n girlies won today

yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍 love you big stupid idiot 🤍🤍🤍 once I posted the invisalign it was over..

georgeclarkeey guys gotta eat

liked by georgeclarkeey, arthurfhill and 43,938 others

yourinstagram casual 'I can finally post my boyfriend' post!!!!

view all 493 comments

user guys I love today

user this makes me so happy

chrismd10 the power of drunken lime bike rides!

yourinstagram thank you lime bikes

user the alien picture kills me

max_balegde can't wait to have you back on the pod as mrs clarkey

yourinstagram a promotion, for me???

user george is so cute, I envy y/n!

arthurtv it's about time tbh

user I've been waiting for this one

georgeclarkeey was worth losing half of an eyebrow I guess

yourinstagram maybe the eyebrows were the friends we made along the way?

[elsaellaelys]

The most amazing fanfics about JJ Maybank

(Straight from my collection)

a/n: I was going throught my likes and had an amazing idea: putting all my favorite JJ fics in one post so everyone could enjoy it with me! That's why I'm taking so much to post my requested fics, but they're coming...

I hope you enjoy this as much as I. This fanfics inspired me and helped me throught the last months and I couldn't be more grateful for this lovely community! <333

--★--

JJ in his red cut off shirt

JJ working on his bike

JJ Maybank is a munch

@lilastrocup JJ's masterlist

My angel

Fishing in the dark

Talk fast

The attractive things JJ Maybank does

Happy Anniversary

JJ loves when you leaves scratches on his back

Ouch!

Sugar lips

sub!JJ

JJ and innocent reader

You comfort JJ after a fight with his dad

JJ suck**g on his gf's t*ts

Not her

idcntlikedarness milestone event ?

Cutting JJ's hair

Kook princess and make up kisses

Sea and sand

JJ giving the reader aftercare

JJ calling reader mama

Vulnerable

At last

JJ always moan when you pull his hair

JJ and more aftercare

Sp*t ?

Pinky promise

Tired of rid**g JJ

Magic touch

Lets listen to some music - JJ for I think he knows

Matching tatoos with JJ

Whiny soft!dom!JJ

Good morning sunshine

Home is where the heart is

When JJ accidentally stepped on your foot

Hold back

Now you gotta...

JJ is caught by pogues being the little spoon

Sick

The one where JJ loves your lipstick

Stress relief with JJ

I would wait forever and ever

JJ taking care of you while you're sick...

JJ's too shaggy and grown out hair

Burnt pancakes

Permanent

JJ x John B's little sister

Tease

Peace & Love

Vampire

High s*x

Praise k*nk

Sick day

JJ drying your hair

Scratching

Overthinker

Need any help?

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

@moremaybank : dirty martini with JJ

JJ putting his arm around your neck

Calling JJ dad

JJ helping you relax

JJ comforting you after a break up

Love and blow*es

(Soft) enemies to lovers

Bf!JJ headcannons

JJ gives you flowers

Knight in shining armor

Just read it. You didn't know how much you needed this.

[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[thecapricunt1616]

Pearls - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pearls are associated with feminine energy, intuition, and nurturing qualities. Some say they can enhance a woman's natural grace and elegance, and connect her with her inner femininity. Also, In many traditions, pearls symbolize love, wisdom, and inner beauty. They are often exchanged as gifts to express deep affection and admiration. ♡ Summary: It's your birthday, and your man pulls out every stop to show you just how much he loves & worships you in every way. ♡ W/C: 4,600 ♡ Posted Date: 06/06/24 ♡ A/N: Hello! This is for my darling love @carmenberzattosgf - everyone say ' HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIRTY OLIVE MARTINI!!! ' RN!!!! She truly is the love of my tumblr life, I hope you enjoy this my sweetest moot!! I hope you also had a wonderful wonderful birthday. For all you folks that have asks rotting away in my inbox (STILL) i'm sorry :( I am still working I promise, But special days like this only come once per year we have to celebrate while we can! I hope you all enjoy this in the meantime :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT - Incl. but not limited to *ehehem* *cracks knuckles* ; Cockwarming, Spanking, Praise Kink, Choking (hands & arm), (kinda) bondage (it’s just gift ribbon so not really? But still restrained), Daddy!kink (this is mostly for dirty olive martinis reading pleasure & no one elses really in mind, kay, it’s martinis birthday, but you can read it if it’s yours - anywhore, if you don't like the d word SCOOT ALONG) it can be avoided though im not obnoxious w/ it, heavy cavity inducing fluff & aftercare, lowkey sugar daddy!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N, Fem!Pet names (Babygirl, Sweetheart, Babe, Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny/Kitten ETC), Established relationship, Unprotected PIV sex, Creampie/Breeding kink, & Other BDSM themes.

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

365. Another 365 days had passed, and you were another year older. Another year wiser and all that. It wasn’t usually a day that was out of the blue extraordinarily different then any of the other 364 days of the year, but Carmen made sure that now that you had been official for just about 8 months - it was a day to remember. 

He had this day marked in his apple calendar from the day you’d told him, which was your second date. He felt a bit … creepy doing that so soon. But he just brushed it off as telling himself he was bad with numbers, you were the first person to bring him out of his years-long dry spell, he’d seen you more then once, and didn’t just hook up and dip afterwards, so he figured if it did go anywhere, it couldn’t hurt to make sure it was documented. 

But the day had come, and Jesus fucking Christ was he nervous. He felt stupid for being nervous, you would probably laugh if you knew he was nervous. Tell him to cut it out, that it’s not that important - to which he would give you one of his little laughs. He had big plans for the day, which started with the day off of work, but him getting up at 5 am anyway to make you a gourmet Michelin starred breakfast in bed. 

He tried being quiet as he could, but so many years screaming (and being screamed at) in a commercial kitchen, and all the clanging of pots and pans - his hearing had been a bit dented. So you did wake up to the pleasant smell of coffee and bacon, and came out to see him standing there shirtless making some kind of caramelized French toast. “Shit” he hissed as he touched the pan on accident,  shaking his hand momentarily before continuing as he always did. 

He didn’t water burns anymore unless they bled, it was just a waste of time to him otherwise. “I’m surprised you still have tattoos on your hands” you said, causing him to jump a bit, startled, and turn around to face you, dropping his spatula on the island 

“Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

“I told you you didn’t have to do anything baby it’s just another day” you said and he mixed it up with a spoon, tapping it on the rim before dropping it off in the dishwasher. 

“That’s bullshit baby you know it- it’s your day, should be a national holiday” he joked, setting another piece of the home baked brioche bread in the vanilla caramel custard mix he’d whipped up with heavy cream and setting it in the pan, sprinkling some cinnamon on top. 

“Mm right. The national day of me where everyone has to bring me presents, and you have to cook me my favorite food. Is that-“

“Your creme brûlée French toast princess, it is” he finished for you and flipped it. The smell was mouth watering. You saw on the counter a bowl with buttery white fluff in it and knew he must have made the whip cream for it too. 

“How did I manage to land the best boyfriend ever?” You muse, taking a sip of your coffee he made you that was perfect per usual. He always made sure to memorize just how you like your food and drink, among other things about you that you were sure to come later. 

It wasn’t long before there was a plate being set in front of you with bacon and eggs and amazing looking French toast that was fucking filled with strawberry filling when you cracked it to cut it, you didn’t even know how the fuck he did that. He brought the dishes to the sink, rinsing them between nibbles of his own naked French toast. 

That was how it usually went, he cooked, then insisted on cleaning, after he made you a perfect and beautiful plate of food that was so stunning you hardly could handle eating it, all while he was nibbling the leftovers or the ‘failed portions’ he called them. You still enjoyed yourself, the food was so delicious how could you not. After you’d finished breakfast it was all up to you how you wanted to do your day. 

You were already over the moon he had taken the day off to be with you, so for now in the early 8 am sun you were sat out on the balcony, smushed together on a sun chair. His arms were wrapped securely around your back as you just sat, enjoying each other's silence. It was so nice to have him this way. 

“Do you want your gift now, or later?” He asked gently, continuing to drag his fingers up and down the length of your back. Your head popped up, fuck. The sun made his eyes impossibly blue. You didn’t think eyes could be that blue until you met Carmy. He was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Like he was carved from stone. He always got all blushy when you told him that, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose doing that sweet pink you loved so much. 

“You got me a present?” You asked, happiness lacing your tone. You did tell him specifically you didn’t want or need anything, that you’d be beyond happy if he could just get the day off of work and spend it with you, and so when he told you he would be able to do that -  you were over the moon. 

“Maybe- I might have made reservations for dinner, too. So, how about that present sweetheart?” He asked and a smile curled on your lips. 

“You’re a sappy bear” you teased and kissed his lips lovingly before getting up, taking his hand with you and he followed leading you to the bedroom. 

“I love spoiling you, what can I say?” He reached under his side of the bed, pulling out a black and white bag from under his side of the bed that made you gasp a bit when you read the font. 

Chanel?

“Carmy- Carmy this is really-“

“You don’t have to wear it, if you hate it. It’s vintage, I called in a few favors with a friend I made in my time in Italy when I was doing some shadow work in the pastry side of things. It’s uh, so it’s the 97’ spring collection” he took out a black dress bag and your heart thumped against your ribs. You hadn’t ever owned something so high end before - let alone vintage. 

“So it’s kinda reflective of the more business chic look? I guess, that’s what she said was popular at the time” he unzipped it and you watched as he peeled back the fabric to reveal a stunning black dress with pearl buttons that were breathtaking. 

“Oh- Carmen” you whispered, stepping forward and touching the soft but thick fabric, it was stiff, nearly perfect. This wasn’t…a thrifted piece “Carmy who’s dress is this? I- I mean… you got it second hand, right?” You look at him, fingers grazing over one of the smooth buttons 

“No- no babe it. Yeah, this is…I guess you can call it one of a kind? They never put it into production not…not enough companies bought the design I guess, it’s been worn by one model one time baby, for like 10 minutes. It’s practically new-“

“That’s not-“ you shook your head “I don’t care if it was thrifted that feels kind of stupid to say, but you mean that I’m the only one to have this dress? Like…like, where did you even get it?” You questioned and he chuckled a bit. 

“I didn’t. I just got to see the photos of it, well- I didn’t have the time to go to the retired fashion house with my friend and look but she FaceTimed and I picked from what they had in your size. You don’t like it? Shit…” he muttered to himself looking back at the dress and you could practically hear the negative gears turning in his head

“I fuckin love it” you inturrupted and took the hanger from him, walking over to the mirror “holy fuck I’m like-“ you giggle “I’m look like I’m straight out of gossip girl- can I try it on? No! No. Later. Later- what time is our reservation?” You turn to him and he smiled at your enthusiasm. 

“It’s at 6- but you have other gifts not just that one baby” he took a box from the bag as well as a smaller box. 

“More-“ your jaw drops, walking over to the bed. You see the ribbon tying the bigger box together and bit your lip to contain your grin at your less than pure ideas. “I think you gave more than just the gift in the box” you undid the big luxurious bow, the tendrils of ribbon cascading all the way to the floor. There was plenty of it to use for activities later. 

“Is that so?” He held you from behind, chin on your shoulder as you flipped open the lid of the box, tugging open the tissue paper and gasping. 

“Are those-“

“More pearls” he held up the bag, by its handle, tugging off the dust bag to reveal sleek crocodile leather and a ‘Chanel’ logo clasp you could have only dreamed of when you were younger. 

“Holy fucking shit” you held it in your hands, nearly feeling like you should be wearing gloves because of how beautiful and precious the bag was. “You remembered that” you said as you thumbed over the pearls on the handle and he huffed a chuckle, patting your hip. 

“I try my best to remember everything I can about you, it’s kinda my job now” he kissed your cheek “so…y’like it?” He questioned. You were in shock, really. You didn’t even want to breach the thought in your mind of how much it might have costed him, over a birthday - just one day, just your day. 

You knew Carmy was fairly frugal, the man didn’t even invest in an extra dresser to store his beloved jeans in, until you moved in, of course. When you moved in - his apartment became much more alive in a literal sense and emotional one. You had put up artwork you’d found on your trips together to thrift stores, he told you that you had an eye for it, and of course he found you the cutest outfits in return for your decorating skills. 

You had found a total of 3 bear ash trays, 5 bear coffee mugs, a Smokey the Bear T shirt (he only wore it to bed since apparently, you teased,  he was too ‘cool guy’ to wear a printed shirt in public), a set of fourteen bowls, cups, and plates that were printed with what you both assumed was the California state bear  because there was absolutely the California state flag on one of the serving platters - but it was… hand painted? You both laughed until your ribs hurt when you found it, because what the hell was it doing in Chicago? Plus, the bears looked so silly. They became your favorite plates, the very ones you had your breakfast on a few hours prior. 

“No - I..I love it. I love it - I can’t believe you remembered my birthstone.” You said gently, looking at the beautiful gold clasp. You opened it, to see the embossed stamp inside ‘made in Italy’ your heart fluttered at the sight. “I love you” you turned around and hugged him tight. He rubbed your back, enveloping you in one of his big warm hugs, his strong arms rubbing over your back and he kissed your neck gently. He hadn’t shaved yet today, so his stubble scratched at your jaw as he kissed down, over your shoulder. 

You still hadn’t changed out of the velvet robe he’d gotten you a month or so ago, he loved that robe. He saw one just like it while you were snuggling In bed one night. It was hot pink, juicy couture. Something one of Natalie’s friends he crushed on would have worn back in 2005 at a sleepover. He had hunted all over the internet for it until he found it, $90 on depop but he bought it anyway since he’d absolutely scoured the sleepwear section at every thrift in Chicago for it, no dice. 

He tugged the shoulder down, kissing over the bare skin gently before resting his nose in the nook of your neck and holding you close. “I love you bear, so much” you manage to say without sounding as tear filled as you were. “You treat me so special” you sniffled a bit, pawing away your tears quickly so he wouldn’t have to see them. He hated seeing you cry. Even when they were happy tears, it made him want to cry - and he hated crying. 

“Open y’last gift- well, second t’last we’re picking up the last on the way t’dinner” he pecked your lips sweetly and urged you to sit on the bed, setting the small box in your palm and kissing your head. “Open baby. I think you’ll look amazing” he said as you untied the box and tugged it open to reveal 2 stunning mother of pearl earrings encased in gold. 

“So- they’re vintage. Like everything else, cause I know you like it more like me y’know - quality and all that shit. But, ok so” he picked one up and showed you “they’re from the 80s, but I thought the gold was super fuckin sick. So I got em- didn’t realize they were clip on- and I called them and the lady said that was the style? Er whatever? And that they’re heavy, so it’ll be more comfortable for-“

You interrupt him with a kiss, taking the box with fumbling hands and putting it to the side, cupping his cheeks. He hummed gently into you, his hands finding yours and giving them a light squeeze. You pulled away after a few moments of intense kissing, mostly tongue and teeth and small moans coming from the both of you. You pant softly, eyes flicking down to his now red kiss bitten lips before looking back up into his ones that you could only describe as resembling his birthstone. 

“I want you to tie me up, and fuck me like you own me, that is what I want for my birthday afternoon” you toss the ribbon from the purse box at his chest and it flutters down into his lap to which he watches it and looks back at you. 

“That seems like something I should get for my birthday and that’s not for 2 months. But okay - can’t tell y’no on your birthday” he untied your robe and tugged it off, brows raising when he realized you didn’t even bother to put on panties after last nights activities. “Fuck-” he mumbled, kissing down your neck and gently nipping at the tender skin. His mouth sent trails of fire down to the pit of your core, mouthing over you in a way that made you whimper beneath him prettily. 

“Need you so bad daddy” you laid back, hair splayed over the pillow beneath you. The way his eyes raked over your naked frame would have made you insecure if it had been any other hookup you had before him. With Carmy it was different, he was observing you, trying to decide which part of you he wanted to worship first - taking his time with you was his favorite thing to do. It was never mean, never teasing, but moreso savoring the moment, he savored every single second he had of you this way like the first time, every time. 

“I gotchu babygirl” he kissed down your chest, tongue swirling and dancing over your sensitive skin, while his warm palm - so warm, so - so warm, so warm that if you were made of sugar you’d be melting into him - well, you might as well should be considering how pliant you were to his touch - was kneading at the plush fat of your thigh as he ravished your top half. “So soft” he muttered into your skin, sucking little bruises into the flesh of your breast. You watched him, mumbling soft praises into each part of you as if he was telling each body part of yours individually how perfect and meant for him they were. How you were so, so beautiful. Flawless, that was a word he often liked to use. It honestly made you blush, but over the months it made you much more confident in yourself, the negative voices you heard in your mind were usually replaced by his real voice of praise. 

“N’smell so good kitten” he nuzzled his nose in the hill of your cleavage, inhaling. “Mmm- how’d I get so lucky t’have you, hmm? Such a pretty girl wanting to spend her special day with me” you smiled at that, your cheeks felt like they were on fire, so did your cunt- clenching and clit twitching at every praise. He knew what It did to you, how wild it drove you. 

“I ask myself how I got so lucky every day, take care of me so good” you took his wrist, moving his hand needily towards your pussy that was basically crying for attention at this point “please take care of me daddy” you said gently, voice wanton and needy. 

“Oh, princess, f’course- already so wet f’me huh?” he ran his fingers through your folds, earning a pretty moan out of you, your head falling back to the pillow in bliss. “Always so responsive t’me, so well behaved” he mused, easily finding your clit and rubbing light circles over the swollen nub. Your hips buck at the contact, a whine peeling from your lips absentmindedly and hand reaching up to roll your nipples between your fingers as he kissed down your sternum, and ribs, and stomach, trailing down to where you were needing him the most.

“S-so wet” you breathe, spreading your thighs wider to make room for him. 

“God- I could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these legs” he kissed the same plush of your thigh he’d been pawing at earlier, spreading your nether lips with his fingers and just admiring. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen- jesus” he leaned in, his mouth finally making contact with your warmest part, licking a stripe up with the pad of his tongue. The feeling of the pressure as he padded his tongue over your throbbing, sensitive bud, could only be explained as something otherworldly by the way fireworks sprayed behind your closed lids and back arched to the sky. “Taste even better” he mumbled, it was barely audible but you absolutely felt the sensation, as it caused your hips to grind against his face and other hand that wasn’t stimulating your nipples to find the back of his head and essentially ride his face from the bottom.

You felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, before lapping back up and kissing at your clit - basically making out with your pussy, it felt so incredible your brain felt like it could melt out of your ears. “H-holy fuck” you babbled, tugging at his hair in a way that made him groan. He wasn’t exactly a masochist, but he’d told you before he loved it when you left scabs on his back for a week and when you tugged his hair so hard that it hurt the next day it made him hard thinking about it- so you made sure to give him that whenever he made it possible. 

“Yea? Like that daddy?” you breathed, you loved this game you got into. You were there to serve, he was there to praise, the perfect duality for your mixture of kinks. 

“Always so good princess, y’know exactly how t’get me off” he placed a wet, intemerate kiss on your thigh, his chin leaving a print of your glistening creamy arousal and making a click noise at the soaked contact. The action made you clench, which in turn made him smile into your heat, nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit in the way that made your hips thresh beneath him. He chuckled into you, the vibration causing a pathetic whine to leave your lips. “Jumpy bunny, mm?” he mused before continuing

Your jaw fell slack orgasm closely approaching as his middle finger broached your entrance and he sunk in to his palm, curling his finger in a come here motion, as if he was beckoning your orgasm - and It was working. Each brush of the pad of his finger against your sweetest spot made a sweet whimper leave your lips. His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it like there was no tomorrow. Your spine arched to the sky, and his other arm came across your hips, holding you firmly in place. Since you could no longer wriggle away from the heavenly stimulation - you resorted to pathetic whines and cries. 

“I-I’m cumming- ohhh- oh daddy- fu-fuuuuhuuuck- shit- ah!” you squeak, mind going fuzzy and thighs quivering as unbeknownst to you you soaked your shared sheets, little hums and ‘oh’s’ stuttering from your lips. 

“Always takin’ me so good, mm babygirl? Even on your day” you came back to him grabbing your hips and rolling you over, looking over the hill of your shoulder as his knee held your thighs down and he grabbed the at least 4 feet of Chanel printed ribbon tugging your hands behind your back and you clasped your fingers into open-fingered fists due to your manicure Carmy always made sure was no more then a week old, smiling to yourself as you mushed your cheek against the mattress while you pull your knees underneath yourself to support your upper half. “Y’lucky Mike forced me into that year of cubscouts” he muttered as he tied a decently tight reef knot into the ribbon. You giggled a bit considering the memories he told you about that year of his life. His dad was the ‘den dad’ which was his ultimate demise as his dad thought masculinity was the end all be all - so made Carmy be the first kid to kill a rabbit during their hunting exercise. But, the other memories were quite funny of him getting lost in a canoe, his first time grilling a hot dog over a fire and setting it (and a tent) on fire, you both got a good kick whenever he talked about it.

Like Richie, which was unsurprising since he was basically his second older brother - Carmy loved to tell, and retell - and retell - stories about his beloved older brother. You had figured it was because of just how much he missed him. In between getting lost in your thoughts of why you loved your boyfriend so much, you felt a sharp smack on your ass. “Answer when I talk t’you, you know the rules” he said and you whimper at the sting to which he leans down and kisses the offended cheek, thats new.

“S-sorry Daddy- I didn’t listen, please- m’sorry, say it again” you beg, looking back at him while laying on your shoulder, eyes pleading. 

“M’only gonna be nice cause its y’r day. I said, D’you want me t’stretch you out or you want another?” he brought his dominant hand to your clit, middle and forefingers pinching the pulsing nub between and tugging it back and forth with a small click, click your wetness introduced with the motion. 

“No- no- stretch me, I want it hard” you plead, wiggling your ass towards him pathetically “Want bruises daddy” you begged and he bit his lip harshly, the already red abused flesh going white with the action. 

“No - Maybe when we get home, m’not leavin’ y’black and blue before a dinner like this, the food’ll be too good f’you to be whining ‘bout it hurtin’ n’wantin’ t’come home” he spanked you rough enough to leave a stinging mark. You whimpered at the force of it

“Ok- okay- yes sir” you agreed, “N-need your cock. Please- “ you begged. He tugged you up by your wrists, carefully of course, supporting most of your weight by your ribs with his forearm and his hand trailed up your body, finding your neck and gripping just hard enough for that yummy, light feeling to grace your head. Natures high. 

“Yeah kitten? Need it? Say it again, I love hearing you beg” he tightened his hand, a small smirk coming to your lips. He always gave you exactly what you needed. 

“Pl-please, Daddy, Need you so bad- need your cum - please” he brought his lips firmly to yours, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside of you, just his tip causing you to shudder in pleasure and whine into his mouth. He squeezed your throat harder, fucking up into you relentlessly. His heavy balls slapped against the meat of your ass, kissing along your hairline as he went on an expedition to chase your next orgasm. If anything, the man was determined in bed. 

“Yeah? Need me t’fill this pretty pussy up? Yea?” he growled in your ear, smacking down on your left cheek with his other hand as he continued. You fell slack against you, not minding he was holding you by the throat and fucking up in to you like a sex doll, it felt good to be used, by him anyway.

“Fill me- please fill me up daddy- Need it- n-need your cum” you whined out. Your voice didnt even sound like yours anymore, it was horse, fucked out, needy, whorish. “So bad- so bad daddy” you added. He grunted, his forearm replacing his wrist and pulling you back as he buried himself to the hilt. He was grunting, and whining, and moaning in a way that made your cunt squeeze his cock like a vice. You gasp as he started instead of thrusting in and out, pulling his hips up and down - bringing a sensation that was making you dizzy with pleasure.

Blood roared in your ears, your g-spot was being assaulted by his tip in such a way you thought you may die from how good you felt, and his hot, raspy moans and praises about how wet, and warm you felt, along with how your pussy was sucking his cock inside - you could have died right then and it would have been more then a satisfying death, and life considering all the joy you’d run into since you’d started seeing Carmy exclusively. Without warning, you soak the sheets and Carm’s thighs. 

The noises you were making were straight up pornographic, and that wasn't lost on Carm either. The orgasm that washed over you - you swore was nearly drug-like - you’d never done them, but you swore the full body orgasm that washed over your being was something akin to a fentanyl high. It was so good,that when you came to - you were untied, and Carmy was coaxing the straw of your lilac colored Stanley bottle to your lips. “Drink, hmm princess? Y’shakin, and that was a big mess, need y’water” he cooed, gently stroking your hair with his other hand. 

“Hmm?” you sit up, a bit afraid of how much time had been lost, that had never happened before. “What - wh-what happened?” you asked a bit worried. Carmy pulled you back to his chest, kissing your temple. 

“Baby, princess, shhh- shh- here, have some water mm?” he coaxed and brushed your sweat stuck hair from your skin, bringing a relief to your boiling hot neck. You finally obliged and took a big gulp, looking up at him with worried, but trusting eyes. “S’only been 10 minutes, y’were shakin then you closed y’r eyes f’r a bit, s’ok, y’r okay sweetheart” He assured and grabbed your hairtie from your wrist, carefully tying up your hair. 

“Thank you f’takin care of me” you mumbled, resting your cheek on his sweat-sticky chest, as perv-like as it was enjoying the scent of your mixed arousal in the bedroom and rubbing your hand over his chest lovingly.  “S’my job angel, Happy birthday baby girl”

[pastryvroom]

love of your life | mason mount

summary , where the very much mourned couple of the uk football/youtube scence reconnect

note , i am back from hiatus so dont be a dry reader or i’ll make the angstiest fic ever with no happy ending 🤭

yes, i’ll get stressed out if i can’t read you!

[tagged: ethereal, model.company]

❤️ liked by masonmount, gkbarry_, and 1,502,326 others

yourusername i’m so happy to finally to bring you all my skincare brand which has been in the works for 5 years, so please welcome, ethereal beauty! the site is currently in countdown mode and will go live tonight. I have personally spent time with dermatologists so that we can finally bring you a skincare line that is going to heal your skin barrier so that we can create healthy skin from within. This couldn’t have become possible without my team who helped me bring a vision that has always been on pen and paper brought to life. i love you all at ethereal beauty and i can’t wait to see what’s in store for us 🫶🏻💕

user i have y/ns post notifications on and yet mason still beat me to like it 💔

yourbestfriend i’ve never felt so proud of you. i can’t wait for everyone to see the hard work you’ve put into this 🥹🥹

yourusername i love u sm!! thank u for listening to me ramble for days 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

benchilwell so proud now lets see if you still know how to party because ive rented out the biggest place

yourusername best get my old dancing shoes out 🫡

user i love the chilly and y/n friendship i still remember when mason introduced the two 😭

user babes are you crying over masonyn again 🤦‍♀️

ksi so free stuff

yourusername deal if free primes in the negotiation 🤝

behzingagram @yourusername good luck he won’t even give it to the sidemen

gkbarry_ im omw with a vodka cranberry that has your name all over it!!

user is this going to be affordable? because id love to support you but im a struggling student at uni

yourusername when me and the team were working close together a big concern of mine was overpricing because i wanted this to be affordable and accessible for everyone, but to make sure we are bringing the best we possibly can we as team have had to price it up at around £15/£20 for more advanced medical products but everything else on the site is pretty affordable 💕

user hopefully this helps my cystic acne because if im going to listen to anyone its going to be a past cystic acne girlie 🥰🥰

model hi yn it was amazing working with you on the shoot!! the range is amazing 💗

yourusername omg hi beautiful!!! i loved having you on the shoot & i look forward to hopefully having you back in the future 👀🫶🏻

[tagged: ethereal, gkbarry_, bestfriend1, bestfriend2]

❤️ liked by masonmount, gkbarry_ and 1,303,201 others

yourusername it was so amazing getting the chance to celebrate something that has been my biggest passion ever with the people i hold most dear in my heart. i would not be who i am or where i am today without you (i need those passion fruit martinis again 🥰)

bestfriend1 we brought the house down with our rendition of girls just wanna have fun 🎤

yourusername nobody held a chance quite literally

benchilwell @yourusername tell me about it you threatened to bite me when i reached for the mic

ksi 🔥🔥

user how did mason let her slip away mother come home pls 🙏🏻

gkbarry_ you looked so sexy let me wife you up x

yourusername come right here then im waiting 🥰

behzingagram you know its a good night when i found faith in the bath tub this morning

user help!?? faith is just like me

bestfriend2 those passionfruit martinis need to come back asap so lethal but so yummy!!

yourusername girls night next week!! we’ll try to make them ourselves can’t say it’ll be successful 😂

bestfriend1 @yourusername that’s what makes it more fun

user omg i need a friendship like theirs rn!!!

user i will never get over how beautiful you are

user OMG SOMEONE TOOK A VIDEO OF MASON AT THE CLUB

user SHUT UP WHERE CAN I FIND IT

user its on twitter so basically its a full 2 minute video of him just staring longingly at yn all night, like whenever she moved his eyes followed her. it wasn’t till chilly slapped him on the back did he stop staring. this man was transfixed i tell you 🥹🥹

user why can’t they just see what’s in front of them 😩😩

[tagged: masonmount]

❤️ liked by benchilwell, declanrice and 3,250,129 others

yourusername be the love of your life

comments on this post have been turned off.

[vikwrites]

Money, Money, Money - Tony Stark

CHAPTER 1 Summary ➣ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.2k words Warnings ➣ Slow Burn, Power Imbalance, Enemies to Lovers, Large age gap, Mildly Pretentious Narrator. Author's Notes ➣  The first, full-fledged Tony Stark series, so excited for this! I've always wanted to write a Materialistic!Reader so here it is! Happy readings <3

On the 86th floor of Stark Tower, atop a mini-bar, sat a delicate glass of Vodka Martini, 3 fluid-ounce Yamazaki, 1 fluid-ounce dry vermouth, with 3 small olives minutely pierced onto a thin gold-plated skewer. 

The thin stem of the crystal glass was passed to your gauzy, manicured fingers, in exchange for a crisp stack of ten dollar bills surrendered to the bartender, you didn’t bother to count. 

The plump skewer of olives swirled freely in your nearly full martini; minute drops threatened to spill over the edge of its fine rim. Luckily, you had caught the droplets before they had been discarded onto the carpeted floor.

Figures adorned in hues of gold and silver flitted about the lavish parlor, each mirrored the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline outside in their respective shimmering gowns, each one more expensive than the last. 

The atmosphere was lively, yet the main attraction has yet to arrive. You had heard mentions of the infamous Stark around; his name carried a certain mystique, spoken under hushed whispers amongst the attendees. You had never really met him face-to-face, considering he was the CEO of the company, but your position at Stark Industries held up a pretty good reputation, earning you enough, and granting you an invite to the party.

“Do you think he’s seeing anyone?” You picked up on the conversation between a few women sitting next to you on the barstools. The woman in question, doused in the overwhelming scent of Chanel No. 5, was dressed in a form-fitting Valentino dress. Her voice carried through the air with a thick New-Yorkean accent, a bleak resemblance to her flashy, ostentatious appearance. 

“Quit it, stop trying to get into Stark’s pants. You never will.” The blonde next to you responded, patting the other on the shoulder playfully. You caught a glimpse of her manicured nails, adorned with a glossy velvet finish in a similar fashion to your own. However, unlike yours—which were neatly trimmed, the cuticles of her nails were a bit messy. A detail that wouldn't normally matter, but for some reason stood out to you in that moment.

Is she wearing a Cartier bracelet? Your jaw clenched at the sight of her bracelet, sparkling with diamonds and catching the light in a way that made your own bracelet pale in comparison, it was obviously more expensive than yours. The fact alone pissed you off. 

The room was filled with a swarm of pretentious individuals, each one flaunting their wealth and superiority. It was suffocating, being surrounded by so many egotistical assholes with their holier-than-thou attitudes. They may have money, but it didn't make them any less shallow or arrogant. You had this sixth-sense of being able to tell how much of an asshole specifically by what adorned their money-laced wrists—whether or not they wore a Patek Phillipe or a Jaeger was enough insight into their entire persona. 

“I’ve got a better chance than you at least, Stark would love me!” The first woman's voice snapped like a taut wire, dripping with disdain. Her eyes narrowed and glinted with malice as she shot dirty looks at the others, her loathing almost palpable.

Holier-than-thou attitude, as you had said.

You thought their behavior immature, not wanting to pay attention anymore to such infantile arguments. Fighting over some uber-rich billionaire who could give less of a shit who you are after you had warmed his bed for a single night? 

Pfft, fuck no, you were just here for the cocktails.

You brought the crystal glass to your lips, and took your first sip. The alcohol burnt as it cascaded down your throat, leaving your mouth with a spicy aftertaste, you could never really get used to a Martini. 

A part of you was contemplating asking for more, but the sensible side knew that ending up slobbering drunk at a party and waking up at the ungodly hour of 2pm with missing jewelry and a killer hangover was not exactly your idea of a good time.

The smooth sip of your drink is abruptly halted by the sharp sound of glass shattering, followed by the shrill voices of the ladies engaged in a vicious argument. Their heated words and swinging arms in-turn send glasses crashing to the ground, littering the once-pristine carpet with sparkling shards of broken glass. 

“Did you just call me a bitch?” The blonde's voice rose to a screeching crescendo as she yelled, her face flushed with anger. With a loud thud, she slammed her purse onto the table.

“Yeah, I did—bitch!” Another responded, her voice a bit more high pitched than the other, yet still carrying the same sanctimonious attitude, standing up and facing her with a smug smirk on their face. 

“Now, ladies. Must we really be resorting to calling each other names?” A voice echoed from atop the stairwell. The women’s dispute had been abruptly quelled, the whole room seemed silenced, and all eyes seemed to be glued onto the figure.

There stood Tony Stark, dressed in a perfectly-styled, deep-burgundy suit, no doubt Tom Ford, the barchetta pocket gave it away. His hair was styled in his signature quiff, slicked back to a T. And of course, he topped off the ensemble with a pair of red sunglasses, which you’d always found amusing since he'd wear them indoors. 

“Welcome, everybody. I would introduce myself, but it seems that you know who I am.” Each step he takes down the glass staircase, each time his Louboutin boots hit the glass stairs, resulted in a loud, echoed clap, which resonated across the room. “I’d personally like to thank all of you for attending. As you know, it happens to be my anniversaire today, so I thought to myself, why not throw a party?”

"What's with all the staring, is my suit on backwards?" Tony joked, his eyes scanning the room as he flashed his signature smirk. You knew, however, he thrived on attention, as if it were fuel for his larger-than-life persona. Flamboyant was practically his middle name; Tony Flamboyant Stark does have a nice ring to it, you chuckled.

"Jarvis," Tony’s voice carried a hint of excitement as he spoke to his AI, "let's crank up the music and get this party started." The monotone response did as so. 

After Tony made his grandeur entrance, you retreated to your lone seat at the bar, grateful for the temporary escape from the chaos. The previously bickering women had vanished, leaving a few neighboring barstools conveniently open for your solitude. You took a deep breath and savored the cool air conditioning and the soft murmur of conversation floating around you.

But just when you thought you had some peace and quiet, you heard the shuffling of a chair being pulled out next to you. Expecting one of the argumentative ladies to return, you turned to find Tony  Stark himself settling into the seat beside you, nonchalantly pulling out his wallet and fishing out a few bills.

"So, could I buy you a drink?" 

⎊ back to masterlist

[nostalgia-eh52]

1965 Happiness is A Dry Martini by Johnny Carson

Illustrated by Whitney Darrow Jr.

Happiness Is.....

Finding out the hobby your wife signed you up for is nude figure drawing

[y13evie]

Something that's living in my head: Cameron x reader where reader picks Cameron up from work and house is spying on them.

Btw love you fics luv❣️

i’m so sorry for the wait! here you go my dear ❤️

tags: nothin but fluff, gn! reader

it’s 7 o’clock pm. you’re sitting in an ‘employees only’ parking spot waiting for your girlfriend’s shift to end. the reservation you ordered for the surprise date was for 7:30. you anxiously tap the steering wheel, praying your dear, overworked girlfriend, isn’t too late. you grin as the doors open to the hospital and allison greets you with a warm smile. she makes her way to the passenger door and gets in the car, happy to be done with her shift. you sit and chat about her day, completely oblivious to the fact her slightly deranged coworker has gotten into his car as well. on a few occasions you’ve met dr. gregory house, he’s a funny guy to be around. a little weird; although, very intelligent. you two pulled out of the parking lot and began your trip to the restaurant. allison had been able to change out of her scrubs before she left, however you wouldn’t mind if she showed up in the most ridiculous thing ever. she was gorgeous.

absentmindedly listening to the sound of allison rant about the ups and downs of her day, you didn’t notice how the same black car follows you to your destination. however there are a lot of black car and you have bigger things to worry about. you pull into the restaurant and find a parking spot close to the entrance. allison has already walked far more than needed today. you hold her hand delicately as you enter the restaurant and are guided to your seats.

“i really do appreciate you”. she stares at you from across the table. she still makes your heart race like the first day you met.

“you know i’ll do anything for you, allison.” she smiles at the affection and looks down to see what she’ll want for dinner tonight.

the two of you scan the menu, unaware of the eyes burning holes into your heads. house knew something was up when dr. cameron was overly happy almost all day. nobody could be so excited at 8 am. so naturally, he had to investigate. now he’s here. at a nice restaurant, sitting in a booth alone ominously sipping on an extra dry martini. each time the waiter asks if he’s ready to start on anything he shoos him away, intently watching the situation.

before asking if your ready, your waiter approaches your table. he looks a little nervous.

“i’m so sorry for interrupting, but the man sitting in that booth over there had been watching the two of you all night.” he motions his head to house’s secluded booth.

allison scoffs and puts her hand up, “we’re fine, thank you.”. she gets up and you quickly follow, making your way to the booth. she slaps her hands down on his table.

“what the hell are you doing here.”

house looks around sheepishly, “eating? what else would i do at a restaurant?”.

“oh i don’t know, maybe stalking me?” she sighs in disbelief. house looks just as shocked, staring at her, wide mouthed. he throws his hands up in defeat. “maybe i was following you guys. BUT, only because you were way too happy to be at your job. i knew something was wrong.”.

“oh my god! nothing is wrong, no wonder you get a bad rep. you follow your colleagues.”. house rolls his eyes at her statement, looking you up and down. the three of you wait in silence until house breaks the ice.

“if i pay for your dinner will you leave me alone?”. the two of you look at each other and somehow telepathically agree on the offer. allison nods, and slowly backs away with you right behind her. you two sit back down at your original table and finally relax for a moment.

“free dinner is free dinner, right?”

[vibeswithdior]

Cuphead Devil general hcs

⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️🔱⚜️

Fave pets names: sweetheart, candyheart, sweets, love, dove, Amour, amica mea, dolce, my sweet, Dulcis mea, my candy, cherry pie, sweetcheeks.my Juliet, Cara mia

He adores cuddle

He would run up to s/o and cuddle them so hard to prevent them from moving

If s/o escapes and tells him they are busy expect him to be cranky

He adores to stay up late with his s/o

If he is jealous he won’t admit it but he will loom over s/o

He would read old timey love stories to learn new ideas of how to show his appreciation and affection towards s/o

Fave candy: black licorice, gushers, sour skittles, dark chocolate, peach ring, haribo happy cherries,

Favorite alcoholic drinks: margaritas, bourbon, dry martini, whiskey, whisky sour

He would spoil his s/o with anything they desire

Fave non alcoholic drink: calypso lemonade, berry Fanta, apple Fanta, Welch’s watermelon, strawberry lemonade Sunkist

[junkissed]

the king's gambit: en passant (teaser)

member — seungcheol x f reader teaser genre — angst (kinda), enemies to lovers series genre — smut, angst, fluff, happy ending; one-sided enemies to lovers, mafia boss!cheol, ceo!cheol, sugar daddy!cheol word count — this teaser - 0.7k; full fic - tbd (estimated 25k+) synopsis — Millionaire CEO Choi Seungcheol has never relied on anybody: not his parents, not his friends, no one. The only person that’s gotten him through life is himself and the power his name holds. But even now, with everything he could ever want at his fingertips, his life lacks purpose… until he meets you. teaser warnings — mention of alcohol series warnings — murder, gun violence; poisoning; kidnapping/hostages; mentions of blood; descriptions of sex workers/sexual acts for money; unprotected sex, BDSM elements; mentions of food and alcohol; warnings are subject to change as i continue writing! notes — this is a very short teaser for the 95z collab i'm doing called the king's gambit! there is no completion date for this yet as i'm still working on it (and struggling quite a bit— plot is not my usual thing lol). i've got a solid 13.1k down for now, which is by far the longest i've ever written, and there have been a lot of challenges getting to this point but i'm so excited to give you a little snippet of what's to come! once it's completed i will also be posting this fic on ao3 for readers who find that platform easier to use. i hope you enjoy, and if you do, don't forget to add yourself to the taglist for more updates!!

collab masterlist • taglist form • my ao3

it’s no surprise that seungcheol finds himself back at the casino, making his way over to the bar.

there’s not as many people in the casino at this hour of the morning as there were last night, but even still, most of the machines are full and a few of the blackjack tables are crowded with people eagerly awaiting their turn to waste away all their money.

you scoff when you see him sit down at your end of the bar. “damn, you look rough, mr. choi.” he hates the way his name sounds in your mouth, sarcastic and cruel. he hates that you don’t even know him, yet you already think you have him figured out. “did you have another long and tiring morning of partying?”

he growls under his breath but lets the comment slide, not wanting to do any more fighting today. he’s had enough of it as it is. “if you make me a bone dry martini i’ll give you a thousand dollars, right now.”

“of course, sir. anything for the vip paying customer.”

he sighs, pulling out his phone and setting it on the counter. “if you drop the snarky comments i’ll make it five thousand.”

you pause, the bottle of vodka in your hand. he sounds genuinely exhausted, and you almost feel a little bad for him. you don’t doubt that he has that much to spend, but that much money just for you to stop berating him seems a little extreme. “coming right up,” you say softly, grabbing a glass from the sparkling silver rack. “and you can keep the money.”

you finish pouring the drink and set it on the counter with a cocktail napkin, and he pulls out a thick stack of crisp hundred dollar bills from his wallet. you try to refuse him again, but he slaps the bills down, grabbing your hand and placing it on top of the money so you can’t pull away.

after a second he lets go of you, picking up his drink instead. “i’ll transfer the rest to your account today. go buy something useful.”

you look up at him with wide eyes. “mr. choi, that’s really very generous of you, but i don’t think—”

but cheol interrupts you, sighing again. “just keep it. don’t argue with me. please.”

you study him for a second, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hair is mussed like he keeps running his fingers through it. you nod silently, sliding the bills off the counter and pocketing them in your blouse pocket.

cheol’s eyes watch your movements closely, studying you in return. “don’t you have a safer place to hide that? casinos can be a dangerous place.”

you almost want to tell him, what on earth would he know about danger, but you bite your tongue and keep it to yourself. he’s had a long enough day on his own, it seems like; he doesn’t need to hear about all the times you’ve been catcalled and harassed, just inside his own casino. though, even if you did, he doesn’t seem like the type to care.

you shove the cash in your drawer beneath the bar and cheol nods, downing the rest of his drink with surprising ease, considering how strong it is. he sets the now empty cocktail glass down, wincing a little before he slides off of his stool and starts to walk away, leaving without another word.

“wait!”

he stops and turns around, waiting. 

you freeze, standing there in silence. you hadn’t expected him to stop. you don’t even know why you’ve stopped him. to ask him if he’s okay? clearly he’s not. to tell him to be… happier? to cheer up? you sigh. this was stupid. “nevermind, i’m sorry. have a nice day, mr. choi.”

he gives you a halfhearted smile and a wave. “yeah. you too.”

you watch him walk away, shoulders hunched and suit wrinkled. you can’t help but be curious about what he’s been up to that’s made him so exhausted, and you begin to wonder if maybe there might be more to this millionaire ceo than you first thought.

> no taglist since this is just a teaser; but, you can join the main taglist here!

> please consider reblogging + leaving feedback! this is the first time i've attempted a longer story like this and it has proven incredibly difficult for me, but knowing you guys are equally as excited for it as i am helps me stay motivated to keep going :)