#young black curly pep

[schmel-schmel]

you with the dark curls // you with the watercolor eyes

[snackara]

Mageborns Character Descriptions

@signed-sapphire Here you go, since you want to draw the gang so badly. It’s not terribly detailed, since I wanted to give a general idea of what everyone looks like. I’ll work on full character profiles later that go more in-depth on them.

Atticus: Atticus is a pretty average guy. Minus the huge burn scar on half of his face that has claimed his eye. He has messy dark brown hair and permanently tired brown eyes. He looks constantly exhausted, but tends to perk up around his friends. Especially Jesse and Clara.

Jesse: Unlike Atticus, Jesse is much more approachable. His light brown hair is combed back neatly and his short beard is well-trimmed. His blue eyes are always very bright and curious. And generally he has an air of confidence and friendliness that makes him very approachable. Though, rarely, you can catch his staring into space with a distant and hollow look in his eyes.

Clara: Clara is probably looks the most professional and no-nonsense of the group thanks to her job as a teacher. Her dark brown skin is unblemished, and her curly black hair is usually tied up in a long ponytail or a bun. Her deep brown eyes are always look very thoughtful. Her demeanor makes her seem like a very stiff woman, but she’s really pretty alright.

Florence: Florence looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. Short blonde hair, emerald green eyes, even a cloche hat to really complete the look. She often has a little notepad and pencil handy because of her job as a journalist. She always has a pep in her step, and you can tell from watching her for just a little bit that she’s a very spirited young lady.

Edward Donahue: Donahue can make anyone and everyone feel uncomfortable around him. He always has a stern expression on his face, but will occasionally crack a shit-eating grin. (Atticus hates the way he smiles so smugly.) His black hair is combed back neatly and his dark brown eyes pierce right into your soul. Generally he is not someone you want to mess with.

Sorry if there wasn’t much detail with the clothing, I didn’t see a reason to mention anything in particular to them aside from Florence’s hat. They’re all basically wearing a typical 1920’s getup with the long coats and such

[boomitsallie1]

Mirrorball

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x Reader (pretty gender neutral i believe but if you catch anything LMK)

Summary : Eddie has his sights on Chrissy Cunningham, and who can blame him?

Warnings: slight mention of ED, Eddie being a jerk to reader? Idk Based loosely on the song Mirrorball by T swift. I was listening to it when I wrote this.

It was hard to watch his eyes flutter to her table every time her joyous laugh rung through the small cafeteria. I’m not sure exactly when it began, when his happy, dopey gazes with the hellfire club became longing ones for the petite blonde that sat across the room. I couldn’t blame him though, this is Chrissy we were talking about, the princess of Hawkins high. She had everyone wrapped around her perfectly manicured nails, breaking them down slowly with her sweet smile and kind eyes.

I didn’t hate Chrissy. I couldn’t, ever.

Chrissy and I had grown up together, living just across the street from each other. I sat in her living room, whilst her and her mother were in the kitchen. While her parent figure in her life degraded her appearance, tearing her down slowly.

Our friendship had ended abruptly when we entered high school. Chrissy’s mother had pressured the young girl to try out for the cheer team, and after that the friendship dwindle too practically nothing. To a friendly wave if we happened to pass in the halls, but not of course without a sneer from her football playing boyfriend Jason.

Because of course, freaks don’t mix well with the popular crowd.

Yet the longing gazes from our dungeon master continues.

The fixation begun to sneak into the clubs’ campaigns as the months continued too past. He’d come into 10 to 20 minutes late, a small smile on his face and the traces of old weed and her perfume rolling off him.

That smell made my chest hurt.

And here we are, yet again, waiting for the curly hair DM to arrive, while I set up our campaign.  A soft sigh left my lips, the sound filling the small and quiet room. Then, there was a click, followed by a booming voice. “Hello, my little black sheep!” his voice echoed, walking through the room with a small pep in his step. He ruffled Dustin’s hair, much to the small boy complaint, before taking a plop beside me in his throne.

Weed and vanilla perfume.

My chest begun to constrict.

He wore a lazy smile as he spoke with the hellfire club, taking in all the information the excited boys had for the next campaign. That was until, Lucas spoke up about his next game coming up, and how he’d really appreciate if they could try to make this one, as it was the last game of the season before nationals. And of course, the curly black-haired man scoffed at this.

“You can’t just skip hellfire to throw some stupid balls into a laundry basket” Eddie laughed, which made a soft scoff escape past my lips. I prayed that it was soft enough to not draw attention to myself but based off the glare Eddie was sending my way, I know my prayer was not heard. “Got something to say, sweetheart?” He hissed, trying to present himself as threatening. I shook my head, which caused a small tick to escape from him, before he relentlessly encouraged me to speak my mind. A soft sigh left my lips, before I begun to explain myself.

“I just think its unfair, eds” I spoke softly, “we sit here every day, waiting for the guy who controls our campaigns to show up. You expect us to waste our time and wait for you hand and foot, and you give Lucas a hard time by him just because of this other activity he does, let alone support him in his athletic career.”

“Sounds like you’re a bit jealous, Y/N” he spoke, “No eddie, I-“ I begun to say, but he cut me short, with the raise of a ringed hand, and sharp nod. “If you don’t like what my rules are for Hellfire club, your more then welcome to leave it”.

And that’s when my chest collapsed.

I took in a sharp breath, while Mike and Dustin began to talk over Eddie. He begun to yell at them, as my chair scraped out from beneath me. Eddies brown eyes gazed up at me, the slight recognition of what he had just said changing his face in the slightest. Reaching into the front pocket of my ripped black jeans, placing a red and black marbled swirled D20 in front of him. His eyes flickered from my face, to the dice I placed before him, before back up at me.

“happy 2 years of Hellfire, dungeon master.”

[the-slytherin-writer-12]

Best Daughter Ever: Chapter 1 “I am Iron Man” pt 1

A/N: this story is kind of going to be an AU. There are specific things that will happen in this story that aren’t canon and there are things that won’t happen that are canon. For example, in the future Steve is going to be closer to Tony and Y/N than in the canon MCU. I hope all of this makes sense. Also, let me know if you would like to be included in my taglist. 

Word count: 3,652

General Masterlist

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

2008

Y/N sat in the living room of the Malibu house. Her dad was supposed to be on a plane to Afghanistan for a weapons presentation. But, being Tony Stark, he was in his lab working on his hot rod. 

Taking over Stark Industries had definitely been hard on Tony back when he was 21. But getting married at 30 and having a kid at 30 was stressful as well. Not to mention that his wife died and he was a single parent. Tony had lost himself in grief and stress. He gambled, he drank, and he spent a lot of his time in his garage. But he did make sure to spend time with his daughter. 

Pepper just walked in with the clothes of some woman that spent the night. Y/N figured it was a friend of her dad’s, but she wasn’t so sure about the ‘friend’ part because she was wearing her dad’s shirt from last night with nothing under it but her undergarments. As to not get in trouble for eavesdropping, she placed some wireless headphones on and played ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ on her StarkTablet. 

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go,” Pepper spoke professionally. Anyone looking at her, whether they knew her or not, could tell that she was uncomfortable. 

The lady walked forward. 

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts,” she spoke. Pepper smiled and clasped her hands together. 

“Indeed I am.”

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up his laundry?” The woman jabbed. Pepper looked shocked but quickly recovered.

“I do anything and everything Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash. Will that be all?” she asked sweetly. The woman looked taken aback but cleared her throat, turned around, and walked away. 

Y/N looked up from her tablet and met Pepper’s smirk. 

“How’d I do?” Pepper asked. Y/N looked back down and shrugged. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Auntie Pep,” The little girl said, looking back up and flashing her a charming Stark smile and batted her eyelashes. Pepper chuckled and held a hand out to the little Stark. 

“You are your father’s daughter. Come on. Let’s go get your dad,” she laughed. Y/N took off her headphones and set them down along with the tablet. She got off the couch and took Pepper’s hand. 

As the two were walking down the stairs, Pepper got a phone call. Y/N chuckled as she heard Tony’s music blasting throughout the garage. 

Pepper punched in her access code and walked in, making J.A.R.V.I.S pause the music that was blasting. 

“Please don’t turn down my music,” Tony said, not looking up from what he was working on. 

“Come, on Daddy. That song wasn’t even good,” Y/N said, letting go of Pepper’s hand and walking over to her dad. Tony turned around and smiled at his daughter, hoisting her up to sit in his lap with an exaggerated grunt. 

“When did you get so big, missy?” He teased. Y/N giggled and playfully hit her dad on her shoulder, causing him to gasp and feign hurt. 

“You’re supposed to be halfway around the world right now,” Pepper said, after putting her phone away. 

“How’d she take it?” 

“Like a champ,” responded Pepper. Tony lifted up a cover of some sort that went on his car. Y/N watched in admiration as her dad fixed the old car. 

“Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago,” Pepper said exasperatedly. Tony put the cover he was looking at down beside him and looked back at the car motor. He pointed out quietly what was what to Y/N who nodded and listened with intrigued eyes.

“That’s funny, I thought that with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there,” Tony remarked Y/N giggled, which caused Tony to look at her and smile again. He kissed her cheek, making her squirm away because his goatee was scratchy.

“Don’t encourage him!” Pepper playfully snapped. This caused Y/N to giggle again, but she nodded nonetheless. “Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple of things before I get you out of the door.”

“I mean, doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continued, setting Y/N down and standing up from his stool.

The two adults continued to talk about business stuff while Y/N walked around her dad’s shop. She knew her way around it, but it still amazed her each time. Her father truly was a genius. 

As she walked to a metal table, she sat down on a stool. 

“Hello, Miss Stark,” J.A.R.V. I.S spoke. 

“Hello, JARVIS,” the little girl replied softly. 

She listened in on her dad’s conversation, something about buying something unnecessary. 

“I’m allowed to have plans on my birthday,” Pepper said. 

“Oh! Daddy it’s Pepper’s birthday!” Y/N called out cheekily. Tony rolled his eyes at his daughter but smiled. 

“I caught that,” he said. “I knew it was. Already?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that strange? It’s the same day as last year,” Pepper said teasingly. Tony looked at her adoringly. 

“Get yourself something nice from me,” he said softly. Pepper smirked. 

“I already did.”

“And?”

“Oh, it was very nice. Very tasteful. Thank you, mister Stark,” Pepper said, smiling. Tony smiled bacl. 

“You’re welcom, Miss Potts,” Tony replied. Y/N coughed. 

“Daddy, don’t you have a plan to catch for halfway around the world?” Y/N teased, breaking the silence. 

Tony turned to his daughter and stalked toward her playfully. 

“Are you trying to get rid of my, princess?” He asked, getting closer. Y/N squealed and got off the stool, running away from him. 

Tony let out a playful roar and caught up to her, picking her up from behind and blowing raspberries on her neck. Y/N squealed as he did so, squirming. 

“Daddy, stop!” 

“Never!” 

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

As the two Starks drove down the highway towards the airport, metal music blasted. Tony never liked going anywhere without his daughter, considering that’s how his wife ended up dead. But, there was no possible way that he was taking his daughter to Afghanistan. 

Speeding into the airport with Happy behind them, Tony came to a screeching halt. Y/N looked up at the plan and saw Rhodey standing at the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Uncle Rhodey!” Y/N screamed from the passenger side of the car. Rhoday chuckled and waved back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

Tony got out, laughing. 

“You’re good. Oh, I thought I lost you back there,” he called out to Happy as he got out of the car. Happy opened the trunk to the black car and got Tony’s lugage out. 

“You did, sir. I had to cut across Mullahound,” Happy said dryly. Tony nodded and walked around to where Y/N stood in front of the Audi. He crouched down and took his daughter’s hands. 

“Alright, baby. I’ve got to go,” He said, looking into her e/c eyes. Y/N pouted. 

“Do you have to?” she whined. Tony raised his hand and brushed her curly, brown hair out of the way from where the wind had blown it in her face. 

“Yeah I do. How else am i going to buy you everything?” He aske dsmiling. The girl pouted but nodded. “ I love you, so much.” He said, kissing her forehead, then pulling her into a hug. 

“I love you too, daddy,” she said into his shoulder. 

After a few minutes, Tony pulled back. 

“I’ve got to go now. Aunt Pepper will be there when you go to bed and Happy will stay at the house until she gets there. Be good for them,” Tony instructed. Y/N nodded. Tony placed one last kiss on her forhead and stood up. She watched as he walked to the stairs leading up to the plane. 

“What is wrong with you?’ Rhodey asked. Tony looked up there and shrugged. 

“What?”

“Three hours,” Rhodey deadpaned. 

“I got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair,” Tony said as he climbed up the stairs, Happy trailing behind him. 

“For three hours For three hours you got me standing here,” Rhodey said. Tony walked past him and into the plane. 

“Waiting on you now.”

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

 Y/N sat in her bed, waiting on Pepper. She was watching TV when pepper walked in, tears running down her face. 

“Auntie Pep? What’s wrong?” The little girl asked. Pepper walked over and sat down beside the young Stark. 

“Sweetie. Um, your father. He, uh, he went miss..missing in Afghanistan. There was a bombing and he was kidnapped, they suspect,” Pepper choked out. Tears sprung in Y/N’s eyes. 

“Daddy’s missing?” she asked in a small voice. Pepper nodded, wiping her tears off and sniffling. Tears began to make their way down Y/N’s face. 

“Yes, sweetheart. He is. You’re going to stay with Uncle Rhodey until they find him. It shouldn’t be long.’

But it was long. It was three months. Three, long months without her father. She cried herself to sleep everynight for the first month. Then, for the next too, she barely slept. 

All Rhodey could do was watch helplessly as his goddaughter lost sleep and missed her dad. He did everything he could to make her feel better. They even started staying at the Malibu house just so she could sleep in his bed.  While she waited on her father, Y/N was no longer the happy little girl that she used to be.

As news reports told about the accident, they let it slip that the famous Tony Stark had a daughter. This caused for Rhodey to basically place her under a lockdown, barely leaving the house. 

When they got news that Tony was found, Y/N burst out into tears. Rhodey cradled the girl in his arms as he thanked whoever was out there that Tony was alive. 

Y/N went to the airport and waited with Pepper and Happy, since Rhodey was the one to go get him. When the gate let down on the back of the plane, Rhodey was helping Tony up from a wheelchair. His arm was in a sling and he was holding Rhodey’s hand as they walked down the ramp. Y/N began crying as she let go of Pepper’s hand. 

“DADDY!” The little girl screamed. She waited until the two best friends were off the ramp to run to him. Tony’s face broke out into a smile at the sight of his beautiful little girl. 

Tony, with the help of Rhodey, kneeled on the ground and Y/N launched herself at her dad. She was mindful of his hurt arm. She cried in his suit jacket as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tony got chocked up as he wrapped his good arm around her. She smelt like home. Oh, how he missed her.

“Hey, princess. It’s alright. I’m right here,” he whispered into her hair. Pulling back, he admired her. While stuck in the cave, he didn’t know if he was going to see her ever again. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, sniffling. She then felt a hard thing under his shirt, right in the middle of his chest. She tilted her head to the side and placed a hand on the hard piece of metal. Tony smiled and shook his head. 

“I got caught by some bad guys. But I’m Tony Stark, so I found a way out of there. And about this thing, some scrap pieces of metal got stuck in my chest and thus was the only way to keep me alive. Its a tinier version of the arc reactor at lab,” he explained. The little girl just hugged him again. Tony stood up, bringing her with him. He settled her on his hip and walked towards Pepper. 

“Hmm. Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?” Tony asked the woman. Pepper smiled. 

“Tears of joy. I hate job hunting,” she replied. Tony’s lip quirked up at the corners and walked past her and to his car. 

“Yeah, vacation’s over.”

Sitting in the car, Tony set Y/N beside him, allowing her to curl up into his left side. Tony wrapped his arm around her and kissed her hair. 

“Where to, sir?” Happy asked from the driver’s seat. 

“Take us to the hospital, please, Happy.”

“No.” Tony said. 

“No? Tony you have to go-”

“No is a complete answer.’

“-to the hospital. A doctor has to-”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“- look at you.” Pepper finished. 

“I’ve been in captivity for three months. There are three things I want to do; I want an American cheeseburger. I want to hold my daughter, and the other…”

“That’s enough of that.” 

“...is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference now.” Tony finished. Pepper looked at him.

“Call for a press conference?” she asked. 

“Yeah. Hogan, drive.” 

“What on earth for?”

“Cheeseburger first.”

After stopping at Burger King for three cheeseburgers, they made it to Stark Industries. Reporters and workers were lined up outside the door. Obie was waiting on them opening the door for Tony as they pulled up. 

“There he is. Ah. Tony,” he said, pulling Tony into a hug when he stepped out of the car. Tony wiped his mouth and hugged him back, Y/N getting out behind him. “We were gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine,” Tony replied, throwing his napkin in the car. Happy walked around the car and held the Burger King bag out for Tony, who reached in and pulled out his second cheeseburger. 

Pepper walked over and motioned for her to follow her dad, who was talking to Obie about having to get a cheeseburger. 

Once they arrived in the press conference room, applause immediately sounded as Tony walked into the room. He had just finished his burger, meaning he was still chewing. 

Tony stopped for a moment, turning around and looking for his daughter. She was watching him from beside Pepper. With a jerk of his head, the little girl walked to her dad with a huge smile on her face. Tony grabbed her hand, smiling down at her. 

The two walked in between reporters who were desperate for news.  Arriving at the platform, Obie stepped behind the microphone and quieted the reporters down. Tony just sat down on the steps in front of the stand, allowing Y/N to sit beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side. 

“Hey, would it be alright if everyone just sat down?” He asked,pulling out a cheeseburger from his suit pocket. “Why don’t you just sit down? That way you can see me and I can… a little less formal and..” 

Everyone sat down, including Obie who sat beside Tony. Tony looked over to Obie and muttered a ‘good to see you.’

“I never got to say goodbye to my father.” Tony started. Y/N made a shocked face and looked up at him. Tony just glanced down at her and smiled. “There were questions I would’ve asked him. I would’ve asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had any doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels.” 

Flashes were going off as he spoke. Y/N wondered why she was talking about her grandfather, he never talked about him. Especially to the public. 

“I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend and protect them. And I saw that I.. had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability.” Tony explained. A young reporter raised his hand on the front row. 

“Mr. Stark.” He said. Tony looked at him and nodded. 

“Hey, Ben”

“What happened over there?”

There was a beat of silence before Tony got up, Y/N scrambling up with him and taking his hand. 

“I-I had my eyes opened. I cam to realize that I have more to offer thus world than just things that blow up,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. He walked around to platform and stood behind the microphone. “And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International-” 

This caused an uproar of noise. The reporters were talking over each other to get his attention. Y/N shrunk into her father’s side, not liking the loud noises.

“-until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be,” He finished. Obie grabbed him by the shoulders and talked over Tony through the microphone. 

Tony picked his daughter up and placed her on his hip, stepping back in front of the microphone. 

“I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a world with violence. I understand that violence is inevitable, but I will do the best i can to keep her away from it all. Manufacturing weapons is not doing that,” Tony explained, effectively quieting the reporters. He walked down the steps, ignoring the reporters clamoring. He kissed Y/N’s head, allowing her to tuck her head into the crook of his neck. 

“What we can take away from this is that, Tony is back. And healthier than ever.”

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

Tony wanted to go to the lab at Stark Industries. So, Happy drove him there and Y/N waited in the car, watching as Obie drove up on a Segway. He looked unhappy and walked in, leaving Happy to deal with the Segway. 

Y/N took out her Starktablet from her bag she takes with her everywhere, and pulled up a movie. She had recently been exposed to the Harry Potter series, obviously she read the books first. Taking out her earphones, she pulled up the 3rd movie, Prisoner of Azkaban.

Arriving home, Tony immediately went downstairs. Y/N sighed and went to her room, wishing her would watch a movie with her and cuddle. 

A few hours later, J.A.R.V.I.S announced that her father requested her in the lab. She paused her movie, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and got up. Dumbledore had just walked into the room, screaming at Harry for ‘putting his name in the Goblet of Fire.”

When she got there, she saw that Dum-E and the other robots had cleared some room and placed a metal table-like thing in the room, along with some monitors that looked suspiciously like an EKG monitor. 

“Alright, princess. I need you to help me with something,” he said, turning her attention to him. She gasped as she walked over to her father, looking at the reactor in her dads chest. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the cool metal. She grinned up at her dad.

“This is so cool,” she whispered excitedly. Tony grinned down at her and laughed. Dum-E brought over what looked like a better version of the reactor.

“You really are my daughter. Ok. I need your help. I need to swap this old one out for the new one,” he explained, holding up the new arc reactor. Y/N nodded and shook her hands out. “Ah, no. You have to be careful. There is an exposed wire under this device that is touching is making contact with the socket wall and causing a short,” he explained, taking out the old reactor. Y/N watched closley as he pulled it out, exposing a wire attached to it that went deep into his chest cavity. 

“Ok. I’m assuming you want me to get the wire, pull it out, and then reconnect the new reactor?’

Tony grinned at her proudly and nodded. 

“Exactly. But be careful, if you touch the sides with the wire or pull out the magnet,  I could go into cardiac arrest,” he said nonchalantly. Y/N gawked at him.

“Ok.. Grey’s Anatomy don’t fail me now,” she whispered. Tony chuckled. 

Y/N reached into the hole and searched around for the wire. 

“Wh-what is this in  here? Is that discharge?” she exclaimed.

“Yes it is. Just get the wire.” 

Y/N searched for the wire until she found it. She carefully pulled it out, being sure not to touch the sides. 

“Ok. Ok. Good now just don’t-”

She pulled out the magnet. 

“-pull out the magnet. Ok. It’s ok.”

The EKG started flat-lining, making her panic, She really wanted to page Dr. Yang, and charge to 200. Maybe even page Dr. Shepard just to be safe.  But, her dad seemed fine. 

“Daddy you’re going into cardiac arrest though!”

“I know. Just put the new reactor in, attaching the wires to the base plate,” he said, handing her the new reactor. She reached in, and attached the wires to the base plate like her said. He exclaimed when she did, making the heart monitors come back and set them at a steady rhythm. 

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and she dropped her head onto her dad’s chest. She then playfully swatted it.

“You can’t give me a heart attack at 8, daddy,” Y/n scolded. Tony laughed and ran his hand over her hair. She lifted her head and look at her dad. Tony sat up and kissed her forehead. 

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” she says, then glances at the old reactor. “What are you going to do with the old reactor?” 

Tony glanced her her, then turned back to whatever he was doing with Dum-E. 

“Throw it away. Incinerate it,” he said without any care. Y/N frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. 

“You don’t want to keep it?”

“Nope,” came his response. Y/N grabbed it and looked at it. 

“Well, I’m keeping it. Now, can you come watch some movies with me? You literally just got back from a foreign country where you were kept as a hostage,” she deadpanned. Tony chuckled, but tossed a shirt on and grabbed her hand. 

“Yes, let’s go. What are we watching?”

Taglist:

@bxtchboy69​

[stripper-patrick]

Uh, hi. May I request some smut w Henry cavill x Indian reader? Some lazy Sunday morning/Friday night stuff? Thank you 🥺💕 I love your blog. I binge read most of it today. Hehe

Heaux Tales 👜 Henry Cavill

Warnings: smut, language, unprotected, rough, cheating, fingering, reverse voyeurism (?), daddy kink, quickie

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Henry Cavill x Indian/black reader

I zip down the highway switching into the right lane before taking the exit hitting a quick right turn. I whine my hips to the music of my throwbacks playlist the song Temperature by Sean Paul blasting through the speakers.

I’m coming straight from work to my sisters house and where she’s having a game night. My boyfriend unfortunately couldn’t make it seeing as he couldn’t take off the graveyard shift. I make a left entering into the driveway of the nice looking townhome my sister Armani owns.

I park in a parallel spot and see a few cars, about 4, already outside of her house. I step out pulling down my suede mini skirt with a vertical seam. I smooth out my sepia colored shirt feeling the wind start to pick up outside. I grab my black duster sliding it over my thick arms before grabbing my chestnut brown purse and walking up to the door. I try the door handle and it opens allowing me in. I take off my loafers at the door and hear the chattering of a few guests.

This house used to be our parents right before they died. We had 2 beautiful mothers who loved us very much but sadly they were involved in a head on collision that killed one of them on impact. The other died in the hospital just a day later but I was grateful for those few hours.

I look at the pictures of all of us and then I hear my name being shouted with joy. “YN” I’m greeted with open arms from my older sister. The fair-skinned 5’8 woman with a cheeky smile plastered on her face looks at me “don’t be mad” she bites her lip

“I’m already mad now” which was only half of a joke. What did she do this time? Appears from behind a wall, my recent ex Henry, with a cheeky smile as well. His perfectly short hair and fitted tee makes me wonder if he does all the thing he used to do to me, to his... snow bunnies. He started off as a fling which then turned into a 2 year relationship and when that ended we were still having sex with each other. I really only stopped fucking him just a year ago, right before I got with my current boyfriend, Cameron. The breakup was mutual but still sour. He was my best friend. Now every time I look I see a different broad on his shoulder. Like a trophy. He’s got a bitch for everyday of the week.

“Oh nice seeing you Henry” I glare at Armani and she smiles. The tall Brit walks over to me engulfing me in his warm embrace. Almost made me miss us being together. He lets me go and I step back.

“Nice seeing you as well. You look good” he glanced me up and down quickly before returning to my eyes. I can’t help but remember that those were one of his favorite features about me. My chocolate brown eyes.

“As do you” an content silence falls in the air and Armani clears her throat

“Let’s get you drunk and get this game night started” she grabs my hand and Henry follows us. We part ways, him heading to the living room and me and my sister to the kitchen where I look at her.

“I miss his goofy side” she tried to plea. I shake my head grabbing a shot of tequila and taking it straight to the head. I pour another shot downing it before shaking my head squinting at the taste. I walk to the living room meeting everyone. 2 of our cousins Briette and Joseline and Bri’s husband Carter.

“Hey guys” I hug them and look for a place to sit. Unfortunately I’m seated only one person away from Henry and I cross my legs watching his eyes move back and forth between my thighs and his hands that are resting on his thighs. Let’s begin the games.

....

I’m slightly tipsy and I’m definitely hot from the whiskey I’ve been consuming. I’m not completely drunk but I’m a little tipsy. We’re playing the game midnight taboo and it’s me, Henry and Briette vs. Armani, Carter and Jo. It’s Henry’s turn to read off the cards and we guess.

The timer starts and he begins. “Um ok Brazzers, Xvideos-“

“Porn” Bri yells out he nods grabbing another card

“YN I do this to you all the time”

“Fuck?”

“Something while we do that”

“Spanking? Cumming?” he shakes his head looking dead at me “choking” he nods grabbing another card

“Young adult kids play this at a party it’s a this or that activity”

“Get high or get drunk” I answer he shakes his head

“It’s a gathered activity” this British man and his proper English are blowing me right now. I think hard hearing Bri yell out random stuff and I finally come up with something “truth or dare”

“Time” Carter yells. Henry smiles nodding and I can’t help but begin thinking about when he would choke me while he thrashed his hips in me. I press my legs together biting my lip before raising my eyes to accidentally meet his. I knock back another shot wincing at the taste before just zoning off.

....

We’ve moved onto another game which is cards against humanity. Me and Henry are seated close next to each other of course not by my picking. He decided to sit this game out and just watch us play. I sort through my cards trying to find a good one that Joseline would like. I place one down and Henry inches closer making my breath catch in my throat.

“I see the way you keep looking at me” he whispers. Without a word being exchanged I look at him and unconsciously bite my lip. Something that would’ve made him take me right then and there.

As Joseline reads off the cards deciding on which is her favorite determining who gets the point Henry’s hand caresses my thigh. I always melted when he’d squeeze and knead my thigh like dough.

“I like Y/N’s” I smile and grab a black card reading it off. “This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot and full of blank”

As the crowd sorts through their cards Henry’s hands creeps higher and higher softly rubbing my clothed clit. He does it so swiftly that I’m already at the point where I don’t want him to stop. He slides my panties to the side running his fingers through my slick using that to rub my coated pearl.

I jolt slightly opening my legs more where he inserts 2 fingers pumping slowly. Everyone hands me their cards and I clear my throat trying to act as normal as possible. “Crippling debt” I smile biting my lip again as Henry keeps grazing that spot “money moves, asshole full of jelly beans, tax fraud, and oh god” his fingers dig deeper inside of me as I mask my moan grinding my hips in the seat. I can see the tent forming in his pants and trust me he was packing.

“And crabs” Henry curls his fingers against my g-spot. My body jerks as Bri looks at me.

“You ok?”

“Yes I’m good. I like tax fraud” Carter smiles and grabs a black card. I grab Henry’s wrist and he leans close to my ear again.

“That’s it pet ride my fingers until you cum” oh god I wanna protest so bad but it feels so good. I rest my hand on his bulge rubbing it through his pants. I move my hand to his thigh as my legs shake and I close my eyes succumbing to my demise in front of my sister and cousins.

“Good girl” he removed his fingers rubbing my clit making my body jerk.

“Excuse me I’m going to the bathroom” I glance at him and walk shakily to the bathroom. I hear a chair scuffle and look at myself in the mirror.

“You have a boyfriend get it together” I try to pep talk myself but knowing the capabilities Henry has I can’t help myself but to fall under his spell once more.

A small knock appears at the door and I open it. Henry lightly pushes me inside and licks the door behind him. Immediately his lips are attached to mine and it was like our first time together all over again. My hands wrap around his waist and he moves his large hands down my butt lifting my skirt a little.

“Please fuck me” I beg quietly. He picks me up setting me on the counter. My legs open for him as he drops his pants finally letting his shaft spring free. Henry tears off my underwear dropping then next to his pants and guiding the tip through my wetness rubbing my sensitive clit. I grab him by the back of his neck planting an open mouth kiss on him letting his tongue explore what was previously (and still might be) his.

Henry finally stops teasing and legs go of his dick letting it align with my entrance. His hand moves to the counter behind me slowly stretching me out like the old days. My jaw drops as I sink into his touch feeling his dick fill me up. He holds my hips as my legs dangle in the crease of his shoulders while my arms support myself behind me. He looks done watching his dick submerge in my juices as he fucks me slowly.

“please daddy” he speeds up per my internal request forcing me to lean back pressing my head against the mirror as he wraps his hand around my throat. My legs start to unconsciously close and Henry forces them back open stroking me harder. My royal blue painted acrylic nails dig into his forearm as he brings me closer pressing a warm kiss on my lips. My body sparks each time he plummets inside of me pressing my g-spot like a button.

“Oh god” I mewl careful not to make too much noise. He moves down to my neck using both hands to keep my legs apart sucking at the patch of sensitive skin. My eyes roll to the back of my head hearing his grunts and moans as he digs deep in my guts. My hand wraps around his muscular shoulders and moving up to his short curly locks. I feel that hole inside of me start to open up with each thrust.

“Henry I’m close” I warn trying to brace myself. He pushes my bottom forward going deeper and my toes begin curling.

“Cum for daddy pet” he moans. My body tenses up and I cover my mouth masking a loud moan. I shutter and shake under him hearing his small sadistic laugh. His breath filled with bourbon and mint is hot against my ear.

Once my convulsions stop Henry puts my feet on the ground and turns me around sliding back in and pounding me out. He pulls my head up looking at is on the mirror. Henry places my arms behind my back. I watch Henry’s gave turn to bliss coating my walls in his seed. Something that’s happened multiple times. We’ve had our fair share of pregnancy scares.

“Look at what you do to daddy” my jaw drops as he keeps pumping making sure he’s emptied inside of me. “Fuck I miss the way you make me feel”

He slows down before coming to a stop where I feel his dick pulsing inside of me. I lift up pressing my back against his chest holding him in a powerful meaningful kiss.

“I know I’ve put you through a lot and I’m sorry” he says. I shake my head kissing him again.

I come to my senses and pull his dick out thinking about my boyfriend “shit what did I do?”

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream VII

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 9, 034

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave; They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Brave

Broken hearts are made for two

One for me and one for you

Tell me have you heard the news

We are now in love

Fall break from school is scheduled during the last three days of the last week of October. Before she can take some time off, Iris has midterm articles to write and grade. Barry is busy testing DNA samples or whatever it is CSIs do so they don’t see each other for several days after he leaves her house the morning after Wally’s party.

On the Wednesday of Fall Break, the first day off, Iris lets herself sleep in until almost 10, and then she packs up her bag, stuffing a notebook, a couple of pens, and her laptop in, before dressing comfortably in a pair of dark leggings, and a white oversized CCU hoodie she stole from her brother. Throwing on a pair of white low-top Chuck Taylors, Iris heads out to Jitters. It’s a rainy day, and other than workers who’ve no choice, not many people are out. A storm is brewing for later in the night, the sky dark and cloudy, but for the moment, it’s just a steady rain that has Iris walking carefully to her car and driving a lot slower, thanking her lucky stars that she finds a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop.

Back in high school, especially once her dad had gotten her a used car during the beginning of senior year, Iris and Linda would come to Jitters to do homework or stare at the college boys who would come in. The coffee shop has expanded since then, buying the small antique store that had been next door and adding more seating and a bar that specializes in alcoholic coffee brews. It’s still one of Iris’s favorite places to work because now the manager is a young Black woman with wild curly hair always dyed in one bright color or another and a soft spot for mid to late 90s R & B female singers. The shop is comfortable, with couches and overstuffed chairs in mismatched browns and beiges and blues set up near the walls and windows and several tables, two- and four-tops, taking up the space in the middle. Two of the walls are exposed brick and the others are painted stark white and feature framed prints in wild colors. It’s changed since she was a child, but Iris likes to think that she’s changed with it, that as this integral part of Central City has grown and added light and color and comfort, so too has Iris.

Today, her plan is to outline at least two entire stories from interviews she’s completed over the last couple of weeks before she even thinks about leaving the coffee shop. She settles into one of her favorite spots, a soft navy armchair behind a small circular table. She sets up her laptop, her notebook with her notes, her pens, and once a waiter drops off her brown sugar latte and a chocolate muffin, she lets the sound of the rain, and the Erykah Badu playing on the speakers, get her into her work.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Iris looks up just as Barry stops beside her. She’s been at Jitters for just over three hours now, and her shoulders are cramped and she’s coffee high and hungry. The rain is still pounding down, so hard that it looks like it’s raining sideways, and Iris curses her inability to get any work done in her own home. Besides all that, she’s reeling. She’s just outlined a story of a man explaining the story of the woman he’d loved his entire life: from growing up together in a small city in North Carolina, to becoming best friends and de facto siblings when his parents died and her dad agreed to foster him; from not dating but seeming like it in high school, to falling for other people in college; from having other spouses and children to one night of passion before they found their way back to each other when she decided to leave her husband after his wife died. It was a ride from start to finish, such a roller coaster of feelings—of love and pain and joy and heartbreak—that make Iris feel a bit heavy with them, a little loopy with them.

Barry stands to the side of her, towering above her, in as simple an outfit as what she’s wearing, a pair of black joggers and a white sweatshirt. She’s startled that he's there because she figures that he should be at work, but her heart does tick up at the sight of him. That is, until she lets her eyes rake over his lean frame. He looks a little...down, like a physical manifestation of the story she’s just outlined. His hair is messier than usual and his eyes aren’t carrying their usual sparkle, in addition to the darkening bags that frame them. He’s also a little stubbly, his jaw covered in a fine layer of coarse hair, his pallor a bit ashen.

(Iris will also admit that she thinks he looks sort of, well, good, like this; but that’s neither here nor there and she feels terrible—and maybe a bit perverted—that she’s lusting after him when he’s obviously going through something.)

“Hey,” she responds softly, and she stands up to assess him further. He seems so much taller than her like this, when they’re both in sneakers. She hasn’t seen him since the morning after Wally’s party a week ago when he dropped her back off at her car after spending the night at her place. They’ve talked a bunch and FaceTimed once, but she’s missed him. She reaches up into his hair, rubbing at his scalp a little until his eyes close and he lets out a soft little moan. She keeps at it and then touches gingerly at his face, at some of the moles dotting his cheeks, at the stubble he’s grown. He reaches up to stop her, eyes still closed, and it startles her a little bit. She goes to pull her hand back, but then he holds on to her wrist to bring her hand down and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

She’s never seen him like this. He’s always so open and, maybe not happy, but never so melancholy. There is always a pep to his step, as her grandma used to say, a smile on his face that always said that he feels some sort of contentment in his life. And obviously, people are allowed to have days like this. But it does something to Iris, to see him this way. She wants to lash out at whoever has made him look like this, like he’s drowning in emotions that he can’t easily pull himself out of.

“Bear, you okay?”

He nods, a little woefully, and he catches her eyes again. She bites at her lip as she stares back at him and, on impulse, she leans up to kiss him. It’s just a little more than a peck, something to tell him that she’s there with him; but he takes it a step further, kissing her harder, biting at her lip enough that there’s more pain than she’s expecting. She moans at him and he pulls back, breathing labored.

“I’m sorry,” he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “You didn’t hurt me. Well, a little, but I didn’t hate it.”

That gets a more real smile out of him, and he thumbs at her bottom lip. “Hmm, I guess my good girl is a little bad.”

Iris rolls her eyes and gives him a look, sobering for a minute. “Bear, what’s up? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he nods at her table and asks, “you get a lot of work done?”

She eyes him, wanting to ask again. But she knows how she is when she doesn’t want to talk about something and so she lets it go. For the moment.

“Yeah. Or, at least, I’ve done most of what I set out to do.”

He nods, casts his eyes out of the glass, looking at the rain for a moment, watching it fall in heavy sheets. Normally, Iris likes the rain. It’s soothing and she enjoys how it makes the world take a moment to slow down. When she was a little girl, her grandma (her dad’s mother who grew up somewhere at the bottom of Georgia) used to say that when it was raining, and particularly when it was storming, that the Lord was doing His work and that it was the time to be still. They’d have to sit quietly, usually with the TV and the lights off, and just be. And while life doesn’t allow her to drop everything because it’s started raining, there is always a hushed feeling that comes over her when it rains, something tranquil, but also a little turbulent, a little uncontrollable, quite like the very rain she’s reveling in.

“Wanna come over?” he wonders, voice unsure.

She nods readily. “Okay, yeah. Sure.”

He goes to return her mug and plate while she packs her bag back up. He meets her at the door, opening up a large umbrella and throwing an arm over her shoulder to lead her out into the rain. She walks with him past her own car as he takes her a short black away to where his Jeep is parked. He helps her into the Jeep first, watches as she tucks her bag under the seat, and then closes the door before walking around to the other side.

They ride to his house in silence. He lives far on the south side of town, a good twenty or so minutes from downtown if they hit the highway. Instead, he takes the streets, adding another ten minutes to their drive. Iris doesn’t mind; as she said, she likes the rain, and in this big Jeep, tires sluicing easily through the flooding roads in a way her car definitely can’t, she’s enjoying the ride. He had silently connected her phone to his car’s Bluetooth, so she took it to mean that the music choices were hers. She contemplates finding something that he might like, but she figures he likely wouldn’t even be paying much attention. So she decides on one of her slower playlists, ones with songs that dip and fade, that take listeners on a journey of highs and lows, and she lets it play. The lyrics tell too much, so i guess that i should mention; that i am in no condition; to put you in this position; i might fuck this up, although with the heavy weight on Barry’s shoulders right now, she can’t tell if she’s talking to him or vice versa.

He takes them past one of the major shopping districts in the city, past the Apple store and the Michael Kors shop and the one restaurant her dad took her to when she graduated college where pasta dishes run nearer to forty dollars. These shops, and the nicer mall and a couple business buildings that rise as tall as those downtown, lead into longer stretches of road where trees interspersed with beige or cream apartments begin to take up where businesses once stood. He turns into the familiar subdivision that she remembers; it’s a little older than some, which makes sense if his parents were able to buy and pay it off before they were gone. That also means that none of the houses are the same cookie-cutter versions that tend to make up most subdivisions these days, where houses are identical save for the color and the trim and what children’s toys litter the front yard.

He presses a button on his visor and the garage opens as he maneuvers the car so that he can back up into the driveway. He stays in the driveway, though, the music cutting out—but whatever the case, you're my favorite mistake; more than happy to make you—when he turns the ignition off. She waits for him to come around with his umbrella and he half picks her up to pull her out, holding on to her as he walks her through the garage.

She’s as quiet as he is, taking in her surroundings, trying to get a better sense of who he is by what he’s got going on in his house. There isn’t much in the garage; there are a bunch of boxes neatly stacked on one wall, a couple bicycles in another corner. There is a wall full of tools and a couple tables that have science looking tools on them, like a microscope and several bunsen burners and petri dishes, though nothing looks as if they’re currently being used.

He leads her through a door that opens up into the kitchen as he presses another button to close the garage. His house is as cute on the outside as it is on the inside, although she wonders how he might feel if she were to call it cute. The kitchen is large, done in white, gray, and green, with steel appliances, gray marble countertops, and the look of a place that doesn’t get a lot of use. They both stop to toe their shoes off right outside of the kitchen where a couple other pairs of Barry’s shoes lie. His living room is pretty big: a wide space that features a real stone fireplace as the focal point and a large screen television situated above it; a huge sectional in a slate gray with a few throw pillows; and a big square wooden coffee table. It’s masculine and clean without being gaudy or too bro and Iris wonders if he did this himself because even if she never knew her, she doubts a woman who loved flowers as much as his mother would decorate her living room this way.

The dark curtains on the windows are open wide and Iris can see the backyard but the rain coming down in sheets keep her from being able to make out much besides the patio with what looks like a grill and wicker furniture. Iris remembers being told that his dad had been a doctor and his mom some sort of university researcher and the house matches that.

Barry lets her hand go to tug his sweatshirt off, revealing a plain white t-shirt that rises up over his taut belly. She doesn’t avert her eyes, giving herself permission to track how the sweatpants hang off his slim hips and how he isn’t so much sculpted as he’s hard and tight, with just the beginnings of abs. He catches her staring and he smirks at her before dropping down in the corner of the couch, one leg spread out along the seats of the chair.

“Come here,” he tells her, and she moves toward him, sitting so that her back is pressed against that hard chest and his arms are wrapped around her. She grabs a hold of his forearm with both her hands and settles her head in the crook of his elbow. She’s surrounded by his scent, lemongrass and clean cotton, and for a while, the only sounds are his breathing and the pounding of the rain. He touches her, the hand she’s not holding on to stroking up and down her thigh. Her leggings are pretty thin and she feels his touch fully; if she concentrates enough, she can feel those beloved calluses on his hands. He rubs his hand towards the juncture of her thighs and then over her hip and then back again, and like always, his touch ignites something in her, even as she’s wondering how she might be able to help him out of whatever funk he’s found himself in.

“You ready to tell me what’s up?” she wonders a while later.

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not yet. Tell me about your day.”

She shifts so that she can look back at him, noting the way his eyes have darkened a touch, become grayer like the sky outside, and it’s different from the bright blue-green she remembers from the day of the festival or the wicked blue-gray they always are right before he pushes hard into her.

He blinks down at her and licks his lips slowly. It’s not an explicitly sexual act, even if her body thinks it looks that way, and Iris finds herself lost in it, in whatever he’s emanating. It’s erotic in that it’s intimate, a whirlwind of whatever hurt made him seek her out at Jitters, of whatever still lies unexplored between them, of the attraction that doesn’t ever seem to dissipate.

When she pulls herself out, she tells him, “I was working on a story today. One that made me feel a little bit like how you might be right now.”

“Yeah?”

Wanting to look at him more comfortably, she uses his pause so that she can turn around fully and seat herself on his lap, straddling him. His hands automatically go to her hips, one sliding inside the waist of her leggings so that he can touch her skin.

“Tell me about this story,” he requests. She knows that he’s asking so that he can think about something other than what’s on his mind, so she does, giving a little more than she would originally, working out how she might want to tell the story in her blog.

“It was a couple,” she starts, “that grew up together, in the country. They bonded by playing together in the lake, climbing trees, and playing pranks on each other. And then they start to grow up. Their swimming becomes fraught with tension, the bathing suits showing the same skin, but more, ya know, both of them recognizing the differences, cataloging them, thinking about them, remembering them. They don’t act on it, because they’re friends, and he doesn’t actually understand what it means, that he’s 13 and he keeps dreaming about her at night, waking up with a wet bed and a pounding heart. And then his parents die and her dad, who’s a do-gooder in the community and had been his parents’ best friend, takes him in. Now they’re siblings, but of course not. Regardless, it makes it all harder and odder because she sleeps right down the hall from him, their shared bathroom always smells like her, and he understands now, that he likes her smile and the way she speaks and the curves she seems to develop out of nowhere.”

Barry squeezes at her and she pauses as he asks, “And what about her? How does she feel about him?”

“Well he doesn’t know it, but she’s there too. At first she thinks that she’s just conflating it, confusing their friendship. Because she doesn’t laugh with anyone else like she does with him and she never has as much fun with anyone else as she does him and she never feels as comfortable with anyone else as she does him. He’s her best friend. But she sees him, one night, in his room where the door hasn’t fully closed and he’s, well, he’s masturbating, touching himself, eyes closed and moaning, and for the first time outside of the books she’s read, she feels something. And she knows it’s not just because she’s seen him naked because she’s kissed boys before, she’s felt them hard under her before, but something about this feels different for her.

“But she doesn’t act on it. And he doesn’t either, because remember, he only thinks this is one-sided. They graduate. They go to the same college. But their majors are different and their friends are different. She joins a sorority; he gets into a couple of clubs. Their paths separate, even if they still laugh and talk and be when they’re home for the holidays. Then she gets a boyfriend.”

“She never had a boyfriend before this?” Barry questions.

Iris shrugs. “Sure. But it was high school and the beginning of college. They were mostly hookups that didn’t last. This guy is serious. He’s a couple years older, got his own place, and eventually she moves in with him. Heartbroken, he gets a girlfriend too, one of her friends. That doesn’t last long because she figures out that he’s a little bit in love with the main girl, and then he moves on, to someone sweet, someone who’s been not so subtly hinting that she wants to go out with him.”

Barry seems to be engrossed now. She can’t say that the dark look he was sporting is completely gone, but she can see that he’s not as deep in it, interested in the story she’s weaving.

“They go on to marry these people, even if their hearts are not fully in it. His wife has a kid first, her baby comes next. And meanwhile, they’re still friends. Her dad is still his guardian, so to speak; they are together for whatever holidays they don’t spend with their spouses’ families. They still laugh and talk and be. They still look a little too long and want a little too much.

It comes to a head one Christmas. The gods or fate or just some movement on their parts mean that they both go home to her dad’s house with their spouses and children coming in the next day. But her dad is called in to work so they order take out and watch movies in front of a fire. And they laugh and they talk...and they hug and they kiss and they…

“Be?” Barry tries, a tiny little smile on his face.

She matches it. “Yeah. And it’s beautiful, transcendent. But they’re married. To other people. With kids. So they vow to forget it, to never bring it up again. A couple of years pass. They don’t laugh as much, don’t talk as much. She’s having troubles in her marriage. He is too. He actually consults a divorce attorney because he thinks that it’s unfair to both him and his wife, to live like this. And then the wife dies in a car accident.”

“Oh damn,” he mutters.

“Right,” she agrees. “He’s wracked with grief and more than a little guilt, because he loved her but was never in love with her and she had no idea he was going to leave her.”

“What about her? The one he loves?”

“She’s there for him. She consoles him, cares for him, takes his kid when it gets too hard. Her husband doesn’t like it though. Thinks she’s doing too much, thinks that there’s another reason she’s over at his so much. Later, he learns that this wasn’t a new accusation, that even before she and her husband got married, the husband would question their closeness, would wonder what, if anything, had ever happened between them.

“Eventually she gets tired of it. Her kid is older, in their teens now, and she leaves her husband, packing her things and her kid’s too and moving back in with her dad for a while.”

“And what happens between them?” Barry wants to know.

“He and his son come over more. They hang out more, the four of them, going to dinner and to the movies and to the arcade together. And when their kids are gone, at sleepovers or game nights with their friends, they laugh again, talk again. Fall in love again.”

The ending is implied. Iris closes her eyes when she’s done, letting Barry continue to rub at her back, his fingers so so warm on her skin.

“It's a happy ending,” he says, eventually. “But getting there was a little...depressing.”

Iris chuckles softly, lightheaded again at having gone through that again. It likely didn’t make Barry feel any better, but she’ll take the win that it took his mind away from his own problems, if only for a little while.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees. “But it reminds me that just because it’s not easy and just because it takes some time, it doesn’t mean that things aren’t worth it.”

He nods, slowly, thinking.

“What about things that are...easy? That come like breathing? That start as a simple dance and just, just keep going?”

She stares down at him and she knows that this is rhetorical. She can see the question in the depths of his eyes, feel it in his hands still kneading her flesh. It would be easy to retreat, to tell him that nothing is ever easy, even if the reality is that it is because they are, because they fall into each other so effortlessly, that she’s terrified. There are always hiccups, obstacles, and the fact that she can’t find any keeps her on edge, waiting, anticipating trouble she knows must be coming. She doesn’t want to believe it, wants to stand firm in them—stand firm in the lyrics she keeps hearing, if you decide to stay, know that there is no escape; there's no one here to save you—and she holds onto that as he asks,

“Don’t you think it’s worth it, Iris? Even if it’s this easy?”

She can’t speak, but his eyes are imploring her to answer. Pleading with her for a response. And however terrified Iris is, or however much Iris tells stories, she is not a liar. So she nods and whispers to him, “yes.”

Without waiting for her to say anything more, he kisses her. He squeezes at her waist and leans up to capture her mouth. She meets him with his same fervor and it’s different, this kiss. She knows the passion of his mouth when he’s high, the boldness when he’s teasing her. But this is new, this is fervor, warmth and agony and doubt and pleasure, all wrapped up together.

(Something also tells Iris that there is another word for this, that this is the part of the story where feelings would be laid on the table, where hearts would be splayed open and she’d say it, or he would, and the other would respond in kind, with declarations of adoration, of infatuation, yearning, of any other word that means what she can’t say yet.

But she feels it, what she’s wanting to say, what she thinks he is saying, in this kiss. It is slow and nasty, all tongue and mouth. Her eyes flutter closed at the feeling, at how he licks into her mouth and then sucks on her bottom lip, at how he licks against her tongue and then holds her face to bring her closer to him. She feels it, she feels it, she feels him…)

He stands, holding on to her, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tightening her arms around his neck as he carries her through the house. The kisses don’t stop, though they become shorter, more mouth now, and he takes her down a long hallway past several doors until he turns into one at the end of the hall. She makes a quick note of the light gray and burnt orange decor, the side tables holding books and knickknacks, the one window that spans nearly the entire wall, but she focuses most heavily on the king-sized bed on which he throws on her, the soft comforter half hanging off the bed.

Her clothes come off first, Barry pulling her sweatshirt over her head and yanking her pants over her hips. He comes out of his own clothes as she discards her underwear, and then he’s between her thighs again. But she wants something else first so she taps his shoulder to flip them and then she’s hovering above him.

She gives him a kiss, slow and sweet, and then she makes her way down his chest, kissing as she goes. She loves the feel of his skin against her lips, likes how his skin tastes as she presses tongue kisses on him. His belly clenches and unclenches under her ministrations, and by the time she’s looking back up at him from her position near his crotch, she can see the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing.

She reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his dick. It’s long like the rest of him, and thicker than she would have expected just looking at him. It’s a pretty dick, the base the same color as him, the head slightly pinker. It’s a little veiny, but the skin is smooth, and already he’s starting to leak. She lifts her eyes to find him watching her, his own gaze hooded. In her peripheral, she sees his hands grip the bed sheets and she revels in how she hasn’t even done anything and his control is starting to slip.

“Tell me what you want, Bear.”

She says the words softly, but Barry doesn’t miss the cheek that lies under it, if the slight smirk he gives her is any indication.

“Your mouth,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming about that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick.”

She shudders at the tone of his voice, at the vision of her on her knees for him. She likes it.

“I bet you have too,” he guesses.

Without a response, she licks him, holding him at the base and running her tongue up one side of him. She does it again, and then one more time, acquainting herself with the taste of him and the satiny feel of him on her tongue, and then she adjusts and covers the whole of him.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

She hums around him and she sucks him down, taking him until he hits her throat. Then she pulls back until just the tip remains. She licks around his head and sucks him there, letting the spit pool in her mouth, letting it mix with his own wet. She opens her mouth and lets it slide out, dripping down onto him, and her own body starts to drip at his wrecked whisper, “god, baby, look at you.”

She adds her hands, palming his testicles in one and rubbing her spit down the length of him with the other. She finds a rhythm, sucking him down, inch by inch, hollowing her cheeks as she goes, and then stroking his back up. Barry keeps his hand clenched in the sheets, but he cants himself into her mouth, rocking his hips lightly. She’s getting into it, loving the way he responds to her.

“Come here,” he says, suddenly, reaching for her, and she pulls back with a soft pop.

“Barry?” she furrows her eyebrows in question.

He gives her a gentle smile and grabs at her arm; Iris moves at his request, crawling up his body.

“But you didn’t finish,” she says, pouting a little.

“I know. I want to come when I’m inside you.”

She’s mollified by that, and he settles her on his lap.

“You were so good though, baby,” he says, kissing her. “My good, good girl.”

He reaches down to touch her, slipping his fingers easily into her sex. He groans into her mouth at the feel and he pulls back to ask,

“Is this all for me? Did you get wet sucking me off, good girl?”

She nods, rocking her hips against his hand, against his sex still hard beneath her. “Can, can you…?”

He tilts his head at her, fingers still caressing inside of her. “Can I?”

She huffs out a small laugh because he’s always fucking with her. “You said you wanted to come inside of me,” she reminds him.

“I did, didn’t?” He takes his time removing his fingers, eyes on her as he does. Even with the window curtains wide open, the dark sky has the room dark

(and she doesn’t dismiss the fact that the window faces the side of someone else’s house, where they could be seen if the neighbors were so inclined to watch)

and his eyes look a little like molten lead in the faint rainy light like this. He goes to reach over to his bedside table but Iris stops him.

“I want to feel you,” she says.

He licks his lips and she doesn’t mistake the twitch of his dick she feels under her. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m on birth control. And I trust you.”

He nods once and again, and then he takes her by her hips and slides her down his cock.

After, Iris decides that this time is the single most erotic experience of her life.

They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way.

She rides him, and he’s so full in her like this, so deep in her like this. His back is against his fabric headboard and she’s so close to him, her knees jutting into the headboard, her thighs holding around his hips, her breasts rubbing against his chest, nipples pebbling with each brush on those hard planes.

She holds on to him with her hands holding the back of his neck, softly scratching at the nape. But he’s touching her, always touching her, his hands caressing her spine, and then holding her waist, and then squeezing her hips. He guides her: keeps his favorite pace, smooth and languid; bring her up to the tip and fucks her back down; shows her how he wants her to roll her body when he’s full in her, so her clit is brushing the soft hairs on his pelvis, the sensation incredible.

He uses his mouth too: to kiss her throat, deep tongue kisses that’ll leave marks she knows she’ll have to cover up; to whisper against her mouth, “see how easy this is; see how good, baby; fuck, see how good this is; yes, yes, yes, my good girl.”

And Iris feels so caught up in it. She can’t stop looking at him, loving when the lightning slashes across the room and illuminates those eyes, the constellation of moles on his skin, his wet, pink mouth. Her body hums with pleasure, soaking her thighs and his, tightening around his dick as if it never, never wants to let him go. She voices her satisfaction, in soft sighs and heavy pleas, and his name on her tongue like a chant, or better, a song, “Bear, Bear, Barrryyy.” They’re so close, her skin sticking to his wherever they’re touching, chest to chest and ass to thigh. She feels full and whole and filled...with him and with desire and with, and with love, the thought of it making her shudder and close her eyes.

“No,” Barry whispers. “Don’t. Just let it, just let it...stay here with me. Can you do that for me? Be brave for me?”

She nods, head heavy as her body starts to reach its climax, as her body loosens at the same time that it tightens and she has to fight to hold on to him. “Yes,” she moans again, holding his gaze again.

He touches at her face, holding her cheek and staring back. “Good girl.”

She doesn’t know whose climax triggers the other. She just knows that at the same time that her body explodes, fluttering wildly around him, he comes too, so hard that she feels him throbbing against her walls, that she feels him filling her up with his cum.

He doesn’t let go of her right away. He just holds her, hands at her hip and her face, and then he kisses her, cementing what they’ve just done, cementing what Iris feels for him.

“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” he says, out of the blue. “And when I went to visit my dad earlier, I found out that he’s sick, something with his heart, and I’m-I’m reeling.”

It’s been a long while since they separated and Iris climbed off of him to pad into his bathroom and warm a hand towel under warm water to clean them both. They’ve been lying in his bed, only half under the covers as they let their bodies cool. It’s quiet now, so quiet that Iris has thought he’d fallen asleep; she’d almost fallen asleep. But when he speaks, she blinks wide and then turns her head to face him.

“14 years today,” he adds. He’s looking up at the ceiling as he talks, but Iris feels the hand that’s settled at her waist tighten, the move bringing her closer to him. She understands that he just needs the contact, so she turns so that she’s all the way curled on him, one of her legs thrown across him, her arm tossed over him too, hand settled on his heart. It’s beating slow, steady, and so she strokes his bare chest, right it.

“How’d you find out?”

“I was still at school,” he tells her. “It was a Friday and some of my friends had convinced me to go to a football game, so we were there pretty late. Games could run until 11. I was 17 so I had my own car. It was an old car; we’d bought it from a guy she worked with. By this time, my dad had been gone for a couple years, and my mom was always working late at the lab, so when I got home around 10:30 that night and the lights were out, I wasn’t surprised.”

He shifts a little and continues. “I took a shower, put some leftover pizza in the microwave, and just as I was sitting down to eat, the doorbell rang. It was the police looking for her next of kin to tell them what had happened.” He sighs heavily. “I got lucky. The courts let one of my friend’s parents take me in until I graduated a few months later. I was able to get a work study job in college to pay my bills since the mortgage was already paid off.”

He says it all like he was lucky, but there is nothing lucky about losing both of your parents in that matter, even if one of them was still physically alive. Iris knows from experience that he doesn’t want pity, doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for his story. But she can’t help the way she wants to comfort him, and so she lets herself do that, tightening herself around him, snuggling even more into his chest.

“How are you feeling about your dad?” she asks, mumbling against his skin.

“Devastated. He looked like, like, I don’t know, like he’s giving up. I don’t get to go see him too often, every couple of months, really. And he looked so different from when I saw him last: smaller, frailer. I think there might be something he’s not telling me. Like he’s been sick longer than he says he has.”

“Is he supposed to get out soon?”

“Another couple years. But I don’t know if he wants to hold on that long.”

She feels them first, the tears. She tries to hold him even tighter, tries to crawl into his skin almost, trying to stem his pain. He doesn’t cry for long, just a few sobs, and then he’s inhaling deeply and wiping at his eyes. But it must be enough because he sounds a little hollow when he says,

“And truthfully, I’m not so much sad as I am mad, that he seems to be giving up. On getting out. On me.”

She hums, not dismissively, but because she understands. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes, I hate my mom.”

He sort of jerks up at that. Not fully, he looks down at her, eyes widened in shock. However inappropriate it might be, she finds herself laughing a little at his expression. Then she explains.

“I know that addiction is not a moral failing. I know that she struggled right up til the end. I know both of those things as completely as I know anything else. But sometimes I wonder why my dad wasn’t enough, why me and Wally weren't enough. I wonder what she was trying to find in those pills that she couldn’t find in us, and I get so pissed that she let it take her away from us.”

She’s startled when he moves. He pulls himself from under her, letting her fall onto her back, and then he’s hovering above her, holding himself up on his elbows. He falls into the spread of her thighs, his sex nuzzling comfortably against her still warm center.

“I’ve seen some of the worst effects of addiction,” he says, “when their bodies end up on a slab of metal and it’s my job to dissect the things around them, to even sometimes help detectives dissect their lives to figure out what happened. And something I’ve learned is that it’s always, always about them. Never about the people they love.”

He searches her face, brushing a piece of hair back from her forehead. “And whatever your mom was or wasn’t thinking, you are enough. You are more than enough, Iris.” He leans down and gives her a kiss, deep and dirty, and she moans in frustration as he pulls back from her. He gives her a grin, one more reminiscent of the Barry she’s used to.

“Repeat after me,” he commands. “I, Iris West…”

“Really, Barry?”

“Yes, come on. I, Iris West…

She sighs, but says it. “I, Iris West…”

“Am more than enough.”

She licks her lips then, blinks, works to not let the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corner of her eyes escape.

“Am more than enough,” she whispers, finally.

Barry’s smile turns fond. “Good girl.”

She shakes her head because she doesn’t know what else to do besides kiss him. Which she does, deeply, reaching down to grip him in her palm. She pauses, just for a moment, to tell him “you know that you are enough too, right?” and she kisses the look of awe off of his face. It’s a long while before she stops kissing him, and then it’s only to moan into his mouth, to let him whisper his dirty somethings into her ear.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

They’ve just shared a shower. Barry is throwing on another pair of sweats and a hoodie and Iris puts her own leggings back on, sans underwear, and thumbs through Barry’s closet for another sweatshirt to put on.

(There’s no reason that she can’t put hers back on, but she’s feeling particularly sentimental and she wants to take something of Barry’s with her, something that smells like him, that feels like him.)

“None, really.” She pulls out a red sweater that reads Central City University Track & Field and throws it on over her bra. “Why? You kicking me out.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” He glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Wanna get dinner? And then go with me to my tattoo appointment? It’s at 8 tonight.”

She smiles at that. “Sure.”

They take the highway back downtown. The rain is still beating steadily and there is still the occasional rumble of thunder, the sporadic flash of lightning. He parks a bit further in the arts district, in front of a restaurant specializing in wood-fire pizzas and craft beers. This time, she knows to wait for him to come around and open the door for her so that she can walk under his umbrella. Once he locks his jeep, he grabs her hand, and they walk the couple doors down and into the restaurant.

The place is brightly lit, in direct contrast to the dark sky and even the faint light that had been on at Barry’s place. The weather assures that it isn’t densely packed, just a couple booths of families and what looks like a couple, so they’re seated quickly and easily. They eat fast since they’ve only got an hour before his appointment. In the meantime, they both keep the conversation light. It’s been a day, for the both of them really, and Iris doesn’t think that she can cry twice in a day.

After he pays, she goes to the bathroom and he tells her he’ll wait at the door for her. She goes in and it’s as brightly lit as the rest of the place and she quickly does her business and washes her hands before heading back out to where he knows Barry is waiting in the little space between the outer door and the door to the restaurant.

She walks through the place and out of the restaurant door, likely too quickly and without really looking. She takes several steps, straightening out Barry’s sweatshirt again, and then she’s bumping into what feels like a solid wall, almost falling backward. A quick hand reaches out to catch her, the hand large, easily wrapping around her forearm.

“Shit,” she says, shaking her head to clear it as she looks up. “I’m sorr..Scott?”

He doesn’t move back right away and so she has to look up, up at the man holding on to her. Scott Evans is the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He’d been her editor when she’d work at CCPN right out of college, and she’d had the biggest crush on him. Tall with dark caramel skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he’d been the one to help guide her in the ways of mass story-telling. They’d gone on one date and Iris is not actually sure why they’d never gone on another.

“Iris West.” He says her name slowly, his grin widening at the same pace. He gives her a once-over, slow and heated. “How’ve you been?”

“R-really good,” she says, stumbling a little at that grin. Even if she doesn’t actually regret never seeing him again, Iris can admit that a man this good looking makes her a little tongue-tied.

“Yeah? I’ve been catching your blog when I can. It’s some good shit, West. I can see why you left our little paper.”

“Please,” Iris rolls her eyes with a little laugh. “There’s nothing little about Picture News.”

He shrugs, humble all the way. “Still, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate that.”

“It’s the truth.” He looks down at her, swiping at his lips with his tongue, and she suddenly realizes that they’re still too close. She steps back fully from him, glancing over Scott’s shoulders to see Barry watching them, his expression unreadable.

“Um,” she speaks, catching his attention. “I gotta go Scott.”

“Oh yeah; of course. We should get together soon. Maybe do dinner.” Scott looks back out of the window where rain steadily pours. “It’s still raining out. Can I walk you to your car?”

Her eyes don’t leave Barry’s and he tilts his head, waiting for her answer. “Scott, I’m not alone.”

He turns as if he’s just realizing that Barry is standing there. Barry is still quiet and only lifts his eyes to look at Scott when he mutters, “oh, hey man.”

Barry nods. “What’s up?” Then he looks at Iris. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I am.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and she throws one more glance at Scott. “It was good to see you.”

He graces her with that smile again. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

Barry takes her hand and they walk back to the truck. They’re on the road again, driving to a neighborhood near her own. For a second, she thinks he’s going to take her home, but he passes the road to her apartment and goes on to a neighborhood featuring several bars and little shops that cater to the college crowd. He pulls into the parking lot of a place called Black Gold, the lights inside near as bright as those in the pizza place.

Again, she waits until he comes around and turns as if to get out. He stops her though, holding the umbrella high, standing in front of her open legs. He does his thing, his stare like he's trying, and succeeding, to get inside her mind.

“That your ex-boyfriend?” he wonders.

She shakes her head. “Ex-boss.”

His expression doesn’t change. “All your bosses look at you like that?”

She swallows at the sudden feel of his hand on her thigh. The rain is pounding and drops fall on them, but she’s not noticing it. Instead, she’s caught in the storm that’s returned to his eyes, in the feel of his hands inching steadily toward her center.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she says, instead of responding to him.

One corner of his mouth lifts, and the confident, bordering on cocky, Barry is looking at her now, even if that sparkle hasn’t returned quite yet.

“Nah,” he says. “Not jealous. You’re here right now. And you were with me earlier, moaning for me, coming for me.”

He slides his hand between her thighs and because she is, almost literally, always thirsty for him, wet for him, her legs spread easily. He fingers at the crotch of her leggings, and she knows that he can feel her warmth through the thin material. He thumbs at her until she gasps against him, finding her clit in a way that reminds him that he knows her body better than she knows it herself.

“He ever touch you like this?” Barry asks, voice a whisper above the rain. “Make you whimper even without getting your clothes off?”

She is whimpering, as he keeps his thumb on her clit, rubbing on her in slow circles. That’s all he’s doing: touching her with one hand, looking at her with those eyes that tell as much as they conceal, with his voice a deep rumble that rivals the thunder. He might be turned on, but he’s proving a point, naming himself as someone who, well, who owns her, even if she recognizes that no man should claim any power over her.

Heat spreads through her, a low, simmering sort of heat, but it’s enough that her folds grow slicker, start opening like the flowers of a petal waiting to be plucked. He keeps rubbing at her, staying on her clit, staring in her face, so much that she can’t hold his gaze. Because it feels better than it should, and her wet is soaking through these too thin leggings, and her breaths are coming in longer, coming in heavier.

“Tell me he hasn’t, Iris,” he says, commands, and Iris throws her head back, legs widening at their own volition, hips canting against his hand. “Tell me.”

“No,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed. “He never even touched me at all.”

“Tell me it’s just me,” he adds and she’s too far gone to note the pleading in his voice. “Tell me no one has ever touched you like this.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Just you, Barry, shit, just you.”

“Good,” he groans. “Good, good girl.”

Even if touch is the word he’s using, Iris understands that it’s more. She understands that they’re both wrapped up in uncertainty, never too sure of where they lie in others’ affections, never too sure of where they lie in life at all. She understands that he’s asking her if she feels it too, if she’s there with him, if this too easy, this too natural, feeling is a first for her too.

He’s asking if she’s brave enough to tell him the truth, if she undertands is meaning-understands that I'm no walk in the park; all these scars on my heart; it’s so dark here-even as she’s wondering the same, as she’s feeling the same, wondering if the churning feelings of abandonment make her unworthy somehow. Wondering if he’ll come to see that unworthiness.

Barry leans forward, just a touch away from her mouth, eyes blazing.

“There’s only you too, Iris,” he says, unprompted. “I swear I’ve just been waiting for you.”

He closes the distance to kiss her and that’s enough to take her over. It’s not a powerful orgasm, not like usual, but it does make her shut her eyes tight, make her limbs seize up as she rocks her hips through it. She breathes out, and she can’t stop the little laugh that comes out.

“You really are a dick,” she muses, opening her eyes slowly.

“A polite one, though,” he says, as he stands straighter and holds his hand out to help her down from the car. He holds the umbrella high over her. “See how I’m making sure you don’t get wet.”

“You didn't think of that earlier.”

His grin is devastating but it doesn’t hide the plethora of emotions in his eyes: the simmering lust, the faint traces of insecurity, the grief that’s been hovering all day...the love she doesn’t think he wants to hide anymore.

She hikes up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then she walks beside him into the parlor, words flashing in her head like a sign, but if you’re a warrior, there’s nothing to fear; nothing to fear.

And later that night, as she cuddles up next to Barry is his large comfortable bed, she listens to his soft breathing, the sound a melody to the rain still pattering against his windows. She listens and she stares at him, taking in his features, softer than they were before, the stress of today easing away with every second he’s lost to sleep. A flash of lightning lights the room, and it catches her eyes again, the new tattoo, the purple ink bright on his skin, covering the space from a lily on his shoulder to just over his heart. It goes dark again, his room blanketed once more, but in her mind’s eyes, she can still see the vibrant ink on his skin, the pretty drooping petals of an iris.

Cause you're so brave

Stone cold crazy for loving me

Yeah, I'm amazed

I hope you make it out alive

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around fic announcement

a @sunflowervolvimp3​ and @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ collaboration

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice draws him out of his hungry haze, snapping him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while taking a leisurely sip from the straight tequila in his highball glass. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes his friend a light smirk over the rim of his drink. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?” 

Despite the dig, Harry loves the way Mitch is honest and straightforward with everything that crosses his path. It’s one of his favorite traits about him, and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him as his best friend. Mitch doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. But he’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that spot.   

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality. 

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and especially not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate life. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older vampire remarks sarcastically, bumping his glass bottle against Harry’s crystalline cup in encouragement, using the stout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

or a story about opening up to new dynamics, an undealt past, a stolen ring, a psychotic ex, and an alluring young man with a peculiar taste in beverages.

part I: one in a million, my lucky strike

part II: she makes my heartbeat go faster, the thing is i trust her

part III: car nous nous en allons, comme s’en va cette onde (for our life slips by, as the river does)

part IV: let me inside, wish I could get to know you

part V: she’s got blood cold as ice, and a heart made of stone

part VI: when did this just become a mortal home?

part VII: lately my heart’s been so empty, but it feels different when you’re with me

posting schedule: TBD

A/N: so leyla and i have been plotting and planning this for a few days now. it started as just a random concept we were chatting about at 3 am, but then we both started putting more and more into the plot and characters and made the decision to make it our first collaboration ever!! we spent a whole day building an outline and adding details and we’re both super excited to share the au we created with everybody :D the posting schedule is going to remain pretty fluid because we both have a lot going on (school, work, etc.) but we just loved this idea so much that we had to jump on it right away cause we got attached OOP! so yeah, we can’t wait to show you what our brains came up with at the ass crack of dawn 😌 thank you in advance for any support and patience you guys are willing to put into this fic and we hope to do you justice! 💌

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around fic announcement

a @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and @sunflowervolvimp3​ collaboration

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice draws him out of his hungry haze, snapping him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while taking a leisurely sip from the straight tequila in his highball glass. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes his friend a light smirk over the rim of his drink. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?” 

Despite the dig, Harry loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path. It’s one of his favorite traits about him, and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him as his best friend. Mitch doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. But he’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that spot.   

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality. 

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate life. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older vampire remarks sarcastically, bumping his glass bottle against Harry’s crystalline cup in encouragement, using the stout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

or a story about opening up to new dynamics, an undealt past, a stolen ring, a psychotic ex, and an alluring young man with an interesting taste in beverages

part I: she makes my heartbeat go faster, the thing is i trust her

part II: car nous nous en allons, comme s’en va cette onde (for our life slips by, as the river does)

part III: let me inside, wish i could get to know you

part IV: she’s got blood cold as ice, and a heart made of stone

part V: when did this just become a mortal home?

part VI: lately my heart’s been so empty, but it feels different when you’re with me

posting schedule: TBD

A/N: OKAY SO THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT WHEN I SAID ANDREA AND I HAVE BEEN PLOTTING!!! WE ARE FULLY BACK ON OUR TWILIGHT BULLSHIT LADIES!!!! do not worry witchrry is still in the works but andrea and i have been talking about this concept in the middle of the night for many moons now and it started as lil concepts and then before we knew it we had backstories and plot plans and character bios so we just decided to make it a full fic!! we have it all outlines and planned and are super duper excited!!! as for when the first part (and consecutive parts) will be up: we are not sure yet, because we both have school and work and actual life things that mean we can’t think about harry constantly??? rude??? but we wanted to share this idea with you guys so we can actually write something and not just stay up until the sun rises staring at our text messages like insane people <3 thank you for all the love!!! and we really hope you like this!!!

[galaxycosplayart]

A Man on a Roof

A simply short story I wrote heavily inspired by a dream I had. I tried my best to do research on 1920's fashion and culture, as well as try to make the New Orleans theme authentic. Constructive criticism is appreciated! (There's also some lgbtqia+ representation in here since I'm basing this off my dream where I was the narrator and I am in fact LGBTQIA+) ---

The sound of jazz resonated throughout the rather extravagant hotel venue, loud and upbeat. People swung along: dancing to the sweet melodies like there was no tomorrow. The band’s performance was booming with energy, passion and life; the colourful music painting a perfect picture of the ‘20s in all of the attendee’s minds. The dance floor was packed of all different shapes, ages and sizes. This gathering was one you wouldn’t forget. The sights, the sounds, the feeling; this 1920s themed extravaganza surely did live up to that title. I would know. I was smackdab in the middle of it all.

I’m going to be honest: I don’t really like parties. Too populated, too loud, too obnoxious – but I can’t say no to some swing. This party really was worth coming to, and for once I have to say I had the time of my life. Something about the general aesthetic, the beaming faces of everyone there, the historical backstory, it just made me swell up with joy (and excitement!). I was on my own, my parents were probably off making friends with other adults. In my hand was a glass of non-alcoholic champagne. I am but 13-years-old, after all. I continued to sway, careful not to spill my drink, when I happened to notice a boy leaving the party. He caught my eye, not for attraction, but intrigue. He looked to be a young man, around 16 or 17, but he was somewhat tall and lanky. Unfortunately, I didn’t get enough time to take a proper gander. Fortunately, nothing stopped my compelled urge to follow.

---- He was going to the roof. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry. No, he trotted nonchalantly to the elevator, his footsteps in sync with the music. He seemed to caper with the pleasant melodies coming from the venue. As he entered the elevator car, he lingered on to the tune with each step. The door closed before I could join him, and I watched the floor-level indicator above the gate gradually flicker to the roof of the building. Now, I know tailing people isn’t very polite, but I had taken a liking to the man’s... energy. Once taking a separate car up and searching a bit, I spotted the man near the edge of the flat roof. He continued to tap, now bathed under the glow of the full moon, illuminating his dancing figure. Since I could finally see his face, I can tell you he certainly was a rather attractive man. His warm amber skin basked splendidly under the moonlight; his eyelids shut. His low-ponytail of curly black hair swayed with him as he stepped, the music taking control of his body and mind. His outfit was truly vintage: a neat white dress shirt beneath some dark brown suspenders, the shirt tucked into his black dress pants. He also wore a dark chocolate-coloured bow tie and a light-grey longshoremen cap. Strong jazz could be heard, slightly muffled from the floors below, but that didn’t stop the young tapper from Charleston-ing his way around the roof.  Listen, I’m no professional dancer, but I like to have a bit of knowledge in any given topic. My little knowledge prompted a question in my head, “Aren’t you supposed to have a dancing partner for this particular swing?” I said nothing aloud though, for my focus was on observing this man’s joyous pep. I leaned against the wall, quietly enjoying the stranger’s strut, when the moment was cut short by the sound of giggles. He opened his eyes, revealing mahogany brown irises, only adding to his beautiful appearance. He and I both turned to see a group of young women, looking to be around his age, goggling the boy. I mean, you could say I was too, but I didn’t interrupt or jest at his actions; I merely gazed politely. The nearest girl walked up to him and began to chat, which ceased his dance. This disappointed me, he seemed to be enjoying himself and they decided to throw off his rhythm. He appeared uninterested in talking too, giving the girl a bored look and responding in short answers. From what I heard, she was clearly chatting him up, probably attempting to make a move on him. However, this encounter was also interrupted; for it was his turn to spot me. We made eye contact; his line of sight aimed downwards at my short figure. I immediately panic, thinking, “Crap. How am I supposed to explain why I’m here? ‘Hello sir, I followed you upstairs, I liked the vibes?’ Hell no.”  As I ran through all the possible excuses or justifications for why I decided to basically stalk this man up the hotel, I didn’t notice him making his way towards me. Nor did I sight the annoyed look of the girl he just left behind. He comes up to me, and soon realizing I was lost in frantic thought, gently places a hand on my shoulder. I snap out of my frenzied state, jumping at the touch and looking up once more to see him a lot closer than he was a couple of seconds ago. “Hey, you alright? You seemed frozen in time, dere,” he said with a gentle smile. His accent was faintly reminiscent of downtown New Orleans, which explained how his energy matched the parties so perfectly. It was smooth and peppy; an endearing tone. “Oh, yeah, of course,” I say quickly, still trying to find the right words. “I- uh- I liked your dancing,” was all that came out of my mouth, and I mentally facepalmed with the awkwardness that came with the broken statement. Instead of cringing at this display, however, he instead laughed. “Thank you, cher. And what are you doing, all alone on this here roof?” he asked kindly. “Just... exploring. I happened to notice you dancing when I got to the roof, so I kind of... watched for a bit,” I replied sheepishly. I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did explore the roof a bit before I found him, and I did spot his Charleston when I did. I just happened to omit the details of following him up the elevator car. And through the lobby. From the party. No biggie. “That so? Well then, can you dance?” he asked, extending a friendly hand and dishing out a genial grin. I panic again, but this time for a different, more trivial reason. “Oh, no, no I’m not that good at dancing-” “Really? Ya seemed to be enjoying it down there at tha’ party.” “...You saw me there?” “I watched you follow me, sha.” “...” Well, this was incredibly embarrassing. If I wasn’t already blushing from this whole ordeal (which I incredibly doubt – my face felt very hot), I most definitely was now. I should be thankful for his carefree attitude, because when my spluttered apology attempted to vocalize itself into comprehensible words, he simply waved it off and laughed once more. “Oh, it ain’t nothin’. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he assured light-heartedly. “Still, I wouldn’t mind if you joined me. It’s fun to have a dancin’ partner, ya know?” “I- well... I guess a bit of dancing wouldn’t hurt,” I admitted. He extended his hand once more in invitation. I hesitantly accepted, and as soon as my palm fit into his, the grip strengthened as I was whirled to his side in the open area near the edge. As the next song started to play, and we couldn’t help but get lost in the music, I heard one phrase be exclaimed from the still-anonymous boy beside me, “Laissez les bons temps rouler!"  ---- I had easily resumed my cheerful demeanour by dancing with the man, enjoying our time to the fullest. Despite my lack of expertise in cutting a rug, we enjoyed ourselves quite a bit. It was more of feeling out the music and letting the rhythm take you, relishing a fun stranger’s presence. Sadly, this enjoyment was often interrupted by a third party, who continued to loiter around on the roof; each individual taking their turn in attempting to woo the boy. Louis, as I now knew him, also kept up his trend of giving the girls a cold shoulder, and we exchanged a cheeky grin each time one would storm off huffing. However, something did confuse me slightly. Well, the women were exceptionally beautiful. They also didn’t seem rude, or arrogant; they actually seemed rather kind and friendly. Some even referred to Louis by name, meaning he was probably familiar with the ladies. They simply were shooting their shot, and Louis would keep refusing one after the other. Obviously, he wasn’t obliged to humour any of their advances, but it’s like he didn’t even acknowledge the idea of dating them. I am a curious – and frankly, unfiltered – soul, so as the last dame trudge off to the group, I turn to my new friend and say,  “Hey, mind if I ask you something?” “Sure, what's on your mind, cher?” he replied smoothly, as we both watch the gaggle of women finally exit. “You know em’? The group there, I mean,” I clarify, though there wasn’t such a need for it anyway. I just have a bad habit of... shedding light on things that aren’t as dark, you feel me? “Yeah, they’re good friends of my brother’s. Why?” “Oh, well, they seem awfully interested in you.” “Yeah, they do that now and then. I’m used to it.” “Can’t take a hint, huh?” “Yeah, you right.” I decide to sit down as the current song begins to fade out, allowing myself a small break before the music resumed. Louis takes a seat beside me, sighing. I press further, while simultaneously pondering why I was so curious about his decision to dismiss these dates. Looking back on it, it was really none of my business, but something about the rejections just felt oddly... familiar. Still, I probably shouldn’t pry into other people’s matters. “May I ask why you constantly say no? I mean, they seem like lovely ladies. Are they just not your type?” He doesn’t reply at first, so I immediately jump to the conclusion that I upset him in some way. He’d be justified in feeling so, but I soon come to realize he was thinking of how to answer. After a few moments, I got the reply. “Sort of. I mean... in a way? They don’t know that though,” he says with a smile, to which I respond by giving him a quizzical look. What was that supposed to mean? I’m pretty embarrassed I didn’t realize it sooner when he sees my expression, and states, “Oh. I’m gay.” I stare at the boy for a few moments, blinking. I then burst out into laughter. What a heteronormative approach I took to my questioning. Me, of all people! He was amused with me, and we share a joyous laughing session to the realization.  “Ah... no wonder I related to your rejections,” I say with a cheerful grin. He quirks an eyebrow, and asks me with a curious twinkle in his eye,“Hm? What are you talking about sha?” “I’m bi. And non-binary. That’s partially why I found it so ironic that I didn’t get that sooner.” We chuckled once more, now aware of how hysterical the situation was when the final song of the evening began. He gets up first, helping me up, and we find ourselves dancing our way into the night.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine: PRT THREE.

Reader gets a surprise visit from nasty Erik.

This was requested for another part. May be the final part because I didn’t plan for this lol. Wrote this today.

Part One. Part Two.

You had a certain pep in your step that didn’t go unnoticed. Heading towards your Micro Biology classs, books in hand and a blush on your face, you try and discreetly enter the classroom only to find eyes on you. Head down, you pull your hoodie further over your head, sitting down slowly so you wouldn’t gain anymore attention.l

Erik put it on your pussy last night. You ended up spending the night and fucking another two times after the first. After each hard fuck this man’s fat dick would just plump up and harden with the tiniest look in your direction. He loved the way you looked dressed in his large t shirt with your curly hair pulled back from your face. He would kiss your cheeks and stroke it with his thumb lightly, causing you to bite your lip and blush profusely.

He knew what he was doing to you. He was your new addiction and it had only been one night of him. As you open your laptop to begin typing, the vision of him burrowing deep inside of you with your legs over his shoulders had you rubbing your hands over your face. Your shoulders begin to bounce with excitement as you laugh, still perplexed that you even opened your legs and gave your tight pussy away to a 30 year old man.

A hung, freaky, pro of an older man.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hadn’t noticed that your Professor had been calling you the entire time.

“Your research paper, please?”

Your heart sank.

Fuck. You forgot to grab your written paper from your desk within your dorm this morning when you came back around 6:00 am. Brandy, your room mate and close friend, was knocked out on her bed, snoring and all. Brandy didn’t have an 8:00 am class like you did. And to top it all off your paper was also on a flash drive you forgot to bring to class.

“I’m so so sorry, I-“ you shake your head with disappointment in yourself. So much for a 100%

“I forgot to grab it from my desk this morning. I didn’t wake up to the alarm.”

Your professor nodded his head slowly, “Okay, you know how I feel about late assignments, correct? That will be a five point deduction from your grade, Miss Y/N.”

Your professor left it at that, returning back to the discussion about virology and parasitology.

“You know, this shit ain’t really like you, Y/N.”

That deep voice made you laugh. Your assigned partner and school friend, Lakeith, has to have something to say about everything you do.

“Lakeith, mind your business for once, please.” You sass in a hushed tone.

“I would if I wasn’t enjoying the fall of a supposed future Nurse Practitioner.”

With a death glare, you turn to him, his chestnut eyes always a hypnotic thing for you. Then he decides to smile, showing off his dimples.

They weren’t deep like Erik’s but they were still something.

“I got my shit on lock, Sir, worry about scoring higher than me on the TEAS, Mr. Future RN.”

“Baby girl,” he chuckles low, “My shit always on lock. Coming up in here like you just left a dick appointment.”

Your heart flutters. Was it that obvious? I mean, the dick appointment was hours ago but damn it was still written all over your face. You decided not to respond to that portion. He didn’t need to know.

“So, somebody hitting that and you down played every chance I offered? Wow.” He laughs to himself, leaning in towards you, practically all up in your grill.

“You getting some dick, Y/N?” He smiles, his shiny teeth almost blinding. Damn him for being this fine.

“Why are you checking for me so much?” You roll your eyes into your head.

“I’ve been checking for you. Don’t act brand new because you let some other nigga wow you.”

He smelled like cinnamon. Lakeith always smelled good.

But Erik smells like sandalwood and citrus.

Even Erik’s sweat smelled like cologne. The thought of him had you shivering down the spine, you focus your attention back on your typing.

“Yeah, you got a noticeable arch in your back that wasn’t there before.”

You heard a chuckle from Lakeith’s partner in crime, Marvin. Both of them, two Kappa brothers that joked like teenagers.

“Fuck you.” You fire back, flipping him off, “sit on it and spin, nigga.”

“Yeah, okay,” He puts a base in his voice, “I’ll have your little ass sitting and spinning on something if you keep playing with me, big headed ass.”

“You started with me!” You argue back, trying your best to keep your voice low.

“Whatever,” he shoves your head, “do some damn work.”

Kissing your teeth, you throw your led pencil at his head, watching him scrunch his face with discomfort, rubbing the spot that stung.

“Bitch ass,” you end the argument there, cracking your knuckles to get back into the grind. Lakeith wasn’t about to fuck up your A average.

How about Erik and his big Daddy dick fucking you? Remember, he said you can come see Daddy anytime you wanted some dick.

You press down over a series of keys, typing out something like dmcbcdjendh.

———————————-

“And again, this tutoring shit will not help me get through Calculus I. I don’t need some student tryna teach me.”

You ball up the flyer that your calculus teacher gave you for tutoring help. Tossing it in the recycle can, you march out of her office, fuming with fists balled and cheeks puffed out. Yes, you were a straight A student but the last calculus exam you took you received a 79 on it. That had you crying into a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream. Now, she was offering you tutoring yet again. The students who tutored acted so self righteous. She didn’t need for any them laughing at her behind her back or hounding her because they had the upper hand at the moment.

“Y/N!” Your young, chipper, Calculus teacher called out to you. She reminded you of Daria but less moody and socially awkward.

“Yes?” The annoyance in your voice was clear.

“Would you like another referral? There is a guy on campus who is here as a Graduate Student receiving his Doctorate. I graduated with him and he’s basically a genius. If you want, I can set you up over the next few weeks to meet with him during library time.”

Another teacher? Maybe this would help. She lectured crappy and it had you zoning out every few seconds. You had to result in teaching yourself.

“What’s his name?”

She motions for you to re enter her office. Closing the door behind her, you take your once vacated seat, staring at her accomplishments from M.I.T.

“His name is Erik Stevens. He is back getting his Doctorate in Engineering.”

Your Calculus professor handed you his business card. It was laminated, perfect watermark and everything. She didn’t understand the pure shock on your face. How could you forget that name after you moaned it and imprinted it within the hippocampus of your brain.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face. You must have looked crazy.

“No!!” You take the card, placing it in your hoodie pocket, “No, I just thought of something out of nowhere. You know how that happens sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she laughs it off awkwardly, “Give him a shot, Y/N. He’s really good at what he does.”

“Mhm,” you felt a sudden wetness in your panties. He sure as hell is good at what he does. Even your own teacher recommending him to you had you horny as a bitch.

This fucking man.

“I’ll give him a call today.” You look up at your teacher one last time before grabbing your bag, exiting her office.

//////////////

Erik: Call me and put that pussy on the phone, lol. I wanna hear her talk to me cuz I know she wet as a motherfucker.

You bite on your thumbnail while sitting in one of the study rooms within the Library. You were surrounded by Lakeith and a few other Micro Biology class mates to study for the next exam. You didn’t inform Erik about him tutoring you yet because you wanted to drive over to his apartment and tell him in person.

Y/N: It is wet, but I’m in study group right now I can’t show you. 😩

You were NEVER this damn bold with a guy.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be the one writing on the white board what the fuck you doing?” Lakeith startles you from your sexting.

“Shit, my bad,” you stand up, grabbing your phone and expo marker. The group began telling you information to write out, your mind in tune with education. After applying the top to your marker, you hear a soft knock on the door as if knuckles were tapping it. Craning your neck, you make out the outline of a guy around 6’3, new balance on his feet and a navy blue Champions sweatshirt with matching pants. He had a black North Face beanie on his head, with an artistic pair of gold rimmed glasses on.

At first glance you didn’t recognize him but the moment you stepped closer to the door to open it, a deep pleasure ran through your veins like lava. With a sly smirk on his face, he leans into the door further, staring down at you while curling a single finger for you to come here. He bit down on his bottom lip the moment you were staring at him face to face, the only barrier between you both was the door. He jiggles the door knob, motioning with a tilt of his head for you to open it before he did. Sighing nervously, you open the door, his body smelling like testosterone and patchouli. The thought of the pheromones he produced after sex had you buckling at the knees.

“You in here studying?” He asks with a whisper.

You knew eyes were on you at that door.

“Yes, Biology.” You respond, but not with a whisper. You didn’t need any of them wondering why you were being secretive.

“What kind?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his finger discreetly stroking your hand. You pause to breathe, shifting on your feet.

“Micro.” You meet his gaze, blinking away as soon as you saw the heavy lust there. Why did he have to bring his fine ass over here? Clearly he was in the library the entire time. He did say he’d been watching you around campus and he wanted your thick ass for a long while. So maybe he was watching you study with friends?

“Were you keeping an eye on me, Erik?” You smirk.

“That’s all I can keep on you for now, ma. Ain’t like I can keep this dick on you while you in front of your friends.”

Erik looks over your shoulder. His eyes fell on Lakeiths. He knew from that moment that homeboy wanted you. It was all over that niggas face.

“Let me help I know a lot about Micro Biology.”

Erik wasn’t asking really because he pushes past you, fully within the room. You shutter slightly before closing the door, taking in calming breaths.

“Can we help you?” Lakeith speaks for the group like he was the leader.

“Nah, looks like y’all need it though,” Erik takes it upon himself to spread your notes out on the desk, craning his eyes behind his glasses to read what you had. He takes his other hand, stroking his gotee before turning to the white board.

“Y’all sure y’all know how to study for this?” He asks with a joking tone. Lakeith and Marvin share a look before turning back to Erik.

“Yeah, we got this, bruh. You looking at the top students in the class.”

Erik nods his head slowly, “How about you, Y/N? He speaking for you like he know you smart.”

Lakeith laughs, “we work close together all the time. I know she got it going on.”

Erik lifts a single brow, taking your notes to stack neatly, “Y/N, this nigga always speak for you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring from Erik to Lakeith. There was clearly a weighing of dicks in this room but Erik would come out on top for sure, gold metal and all.

“Not always, but he has a habit to sometimes,” you hide your smile, focusing back to the white board.

“Y/N,” Erik calls for you. He had the right to do that you felt. He opened your pussy up and ate your pussy like a bowl of ice cream, licking his fingers and all. He could call you and you would answer.

“Yes?” You turn to him, giving him your undivided attention.

“You want me to help you study? I can do that right now I got time before my evening class starts,” he places his hands in his pants pockets, waiting for your answer. You both knew you would say yes, and you didn’t hesitate either. This could lead to what you needed.

“Okay, sure,” you try and pack your things but Erik was already on it, zipping up your back pack and throwing it over his shoulder. He walks to the door, opening it for you to leave first.

“You not gonna say goodbye to your little friends?” He says with a smirk before licking his lips.

“Bye y’all, see you this Wednesday,” you step out of the study room, Erik’s arm around your shoulder. Before you could leave the library, Erik pulls you in between an aisle full of history books, slamming you against the shelf. He pauses, trying to keep the solitude of the library at bay.

“Who is that little nigga?” He asks you with a calm that had you squirming.

“His name is Lakeith.” You respond with a whisper.

His eyes look from your toes and back up to your face. Erik takes off your hood, your messy curly bun frizzy from wearing it all day.

“Damn, you ain’t even fix this after I was all in yo’ shit last night.” He laughs with a deep raspy tone.

“I didn’t have time,” you whine, pouting like a baby.

“Why the fuck are you so cute? He had a slight tendrill of anger building up, you could tell from how his brows furrowed, “why you so damn cute, lil mama? Out here having these weak dick niggas craving you.“

You swallow spit, shrugging your shoulders nervously, “I don’t know.”

“What I tell you about that I don’t know shit?”

You forgot he didn’t like for you to tell him that.

“Sorry.”

“All you gonna do is say the shit again. But it’s cool, I know you remember how this strong dick nigga had you crying.” He was even closer now, breath on your cheek.

“I mean, to be honest, aint like you can do much about being the cutest bitch on campus. Cutest bitch with the tightest pussy.”

You could feel him grabbing your breasts with no restraint. Anybody could spot the both of you. You watch as he unzips your hoodie, the thin t shirt you wore underneath giving him a clear view of your big ass nipples.

“Y/N....shit,” he takes both, pinching your nipples and playfully slapping them.

“Big ass titties.” He kisses your neck on both sides with a little tongue.

“Erik,” you moan out with a shiver.

“I’m the only one allowed to put it on you, you hear me?” He whispers. Erik pulls you from the shelf by the collar of your shirt, palming your ass hard before slapping it.

“Daddy is gon’ be all in your shit girl, you wait and see,” he bit your ear, taking you by your hips to make you grind on him from the front. It was the wildest shit ever. You never did anything like this in public. For the most part it was kissing and ass grabbing but not this.

Erik pulls one of your legs up, his hands on the shelf while he dry humped your crotch.

“Damn, babygirl, that leg all the way up there, huh?” He pulls you with three quick pumps over his clothed and now fully hard dick. You could feel it against your leg and it was long as hell. He had you so open last time...Damn, he was gonna do that shit again.

“Let me stop before I have a big ass nut,” he chuckles, lowering your leg but never moving his hand away from your ass, “girl, when we get back to my place, I swear to God your ass is mine.”

————————————

“You’re so hard, I can feel all of that big dick, Daddy.”

You moan while grinding on his crotch, wet pussy wrapped around his bare dick. The minute you stepped out of his car and entered his apartment, he started undressing you without a word. Now here you were, fully naked and coating his dick with that good sticky shit. Erik has his fingers on your clit, rubbing in a slow circle while he instructed you to keep wetting his dick down to his balls.

Erik places his fingers within his mouth before grabbing your waist, angling you and making you bounce on his dick in rhythm with his grinding. It was an erotic sight to see, legs spread wide, pussy wet, hard dick all slick.

“Fuck, Y/N, got me ready to buss a fucking nut, damn girl!” He slaps your ass, “You ain’t all sweet, your little ass a fucking devil. What kinda sweet girl put a pussy like this on a nigga? Ain’t never heard of that.”

Erik grabs his dick, smacking your pussy with it, “Get on your fucking knees. Go on, ma, get down there.”

You were on your knees now, grabbing his dick with one hand, licking yourself off of him.

Damn this girl.

“Y/N, don’t be shy girl, c’mon, lil mama,” Erik motions for you to take him more, “open up...yesss, just like that. Mhm, good girllll.”

You gag on him. He was just so big. You had to stop and look at his dick like it was from another world. He laughs at your tear stained face and swollen lips. The spit on your chin he had a lot of fun with it seems, smearing it in with his fingers.

“I ain’t say you were done,” he jerks his dick, smacking you in the chin, “let’s go, ma, dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You grab him up, sucking him again. This time, he was fatter than before. What the hell was this! Your pussy was leaking, no lie. You could feel it on your thighs. Fuck if you weren’t sucking his dick. Erik rolled his eyes, head falling back when your tongue snaked up his dick.

“And you was tryna play scared?! Shit,” he shakes his head, “scared of what Y/N? You ain’t afraid of all this big dick.”

Erik grabs your hair, fucking into your mouth. You grab his thighs, eyes on him while he fucks your mouth.

“Damn, I’m balls deep in your mouth.” He grunts, pushing one final time before releasing your mouth, a thick stream of spit caught on your lips.

“Sloppy mouth bitch.” He slaps you with his dick. You were so astonished. He just hit you with his dick.

“Fuck. Me,” he looked from his dick to your wet face, “Come ride Daddy.”

You climb up, watching him apply a condom again. You pout with sadness, looking down at him roll the condom over all that spit on his dick. The vision was covered and it had you rolling your eyes.

“Fuck you doing all that for?” He caught that shit.

“If you fuck me raw I won’t act like this,” you speak in a timid tone. Erik licks his lips leaning back to admire you.

“You want some raw dick?”

You nod yes.

“Ard...take the condom off then.”

Quickly, you snatch it off, throwing it to the ground.

“Like I said, a slut for this dick,” he pulls you over him, “Get up here and fuck me since you want it raw. Fuck this dick like you tryna mold my shit in that little kitty.”

You squat over him on your tip toes, rubbing his dick over your clit a bit before lowering over him. He slaps your ass extremely hard, the connection complete and your lips in a full pout now.

“Yeah, thats my fucking girl, such a good little girl. Making that face I like, that dumb struck face with all this dick in you balls deep, fuck.”

You start bouncing, hands on his shoulders and head thrown back.

“Ohmygodddd ohmygoddddd.”

He was really hitting different. It was so much pressure you were sure to squirt. The dick was knocking on your walls for a squirt in return. Damn, his big dick was all the way in there. Shit didn’t make no sense.

“You hear all that?” He speaks to you but you were dickmatized, “you are splashing on me, girl! What the fuck!” You sure were. You could hear it loud and clear.

“Yes I am, oh my Godddd,” you gasp.

“Yes I am, Daddy. I’m so wet, Daddy.”

“You taking this big dick girl, it’s okay for me to keep fucking you like this? Fuck, Y/N this pretty pussy so wet.”

His hands were everywhere. He was low on the couch, hips pumping up into you with his eyes low and on your face. You were in an eye lock with him and it made the moment even better.

“Never thought you would be bouncing on this dick did you?” You both shake your heads at the same time, “I already know I just wanted you to agree with me, sexy bitch.”

You watch as he presses his hand into your back, lifting your leg with the other hand, pounding into you, beating your shit in.

“Damn, ma, I got you looking possessed,” he says all of this while fucking you deeper, flesh smacking louder, “mhmmm, this cool? Huh? Daddy hitting that spot, right?”

You were in no shape to speak. This man had a tight grip on your leg while he beat the brakes off your pussy.

“Shit better than the first time? You getting all of me girl ain’t no holding back. You want this raw dick you taking it like a big girl.” He slows down, making you feel every inch. It was literal murder.

“You a big girl,” he looks down at the way his dick was fucking you, “big girl when you getting this pussy fucked.”

“Fuck, yes.” You moan out. You’d be a big girl and take anything. This man had you wide open.

Damn, hold up, shit,” Erik slips out, arching you over the couch now. He used your shoulders, pushing you down so your face was pressed into the cushions. Your ass was pointed so far up, pussy spread wide for him to slip inside with ease. Your pussy was already wet anyway so he would be in that shit with no problem real soon.

“Throw this phat ass back on me.”

You move with as much energy as you could force. He had you tired. You move your hips seductively while throwing it back, your eyes on him to watch his every reaction. You watched him take in a deep breath, several to be exact, trying his best to control the urge to cum.

“This little pussy finna make me buss.”

You were about to buss from the way his head stroked your sweet spot.

“Ahh, I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you grab the back of the couch, legs shaking and cum spilling out like warm sugar.

“Pussy so sweet, Y/N,” he grabs your hips, taking control now while drilling you. The change of pace had your mouth wide open and eyes glossy from the pressure.

“Damn, you really in there!” You yell, back muscles flexing from the intense feeling. This man was stirring your guts around like a bowl of noodles.

“You putting it on me Daddy I don’t wanna stop!!!” You yell with literal tears in your eyes. You were being completely honest. You didn’t want him to ever stop. You wanted him to keep going and going.

“Putting it on this tight pussy?” He asks with a smirk, “This my tight pussy, you hear me? My tight pussy, little mama.”

“Yes, it’s for you!” You couldn’t believe it, you were cumming again, “DADDY MY PUSSY!!!”

The way you reacted to him had his balls tight and dick rippling, ready to cum.

“Best believe little girl I’m taking. this. SHIT.” He started fucking then stoping, fucking then stopping, like a pattern of torture. Your body would jerk forward in surprise, and then he would stop for about three seconds leaving your clit a throbbing mess. Each time he started back up you would gasp, the surprise of it leaving you motionless and breathless.

“Mhm,” he stops, slapping your ass, “Mhm.”

You reach back, hoping for him to grab your wrists. When he does, you prepare for the pounding of your life. Arching more, you feel him increase momentum, eyes growing lower and lower each time. He had you hooked. That’s it. You were fucking Erik Stevens from now on.

“How you feel about me bussing this pussy open?” He says in a breathless tone.

“I feel so good, Daddy.”

/////////////////////

You watch as he sucks on your nipples, your shirt lifted over your head. You just got out of the shower, your legs weak. He had you against his front door, wet hair all over your face and chest arched forward into his mouth. You cry and do it loudly like a whiny brat, his tongue flicking your nipples in the best way.

“Daddy...stop...” you push at him weakly.

He starts sucking like a damn baby and you extend your head back, hitting the door with a loud thud.

“Chill out,” you say between breathless moans. He was a damn animal for you.

“Daddy, what the fuck,” you rub your thighs together, “ooo...stop,”

He doesn’t say a word as he tongues and sucks on your titties. Nipple play never aroused you this much. Erik was a man of firsts for you. How was it that you could feel your pussy throb and drip from this? His eyes meet yours while he flicks his tongue over your right nipple. Damn, he was a fine motherfucker with a mouth you wanted to sit on. Imagine having a tongue like that slipping from front to back and side to side in your slit.

“Daddy eat my pussy,” you ask with no regard.

“Suck on that pussy?” He lifts with spit on his chin, “If I eat it you ain’t going no where for the night cuz im only gonna fuck you again.”

“So?” You sass, “plus, I’m gonna be here more often anyway. My calculus teacher recommended me to you for tutoring.”

He looks at you with dark eyes of lust while twirling your nipples, “Damn, forreal?”

“Yeah, I figured you could reward me with more dick if I do well.”

“Yeah, I can do that. But that means you gotta do well though.”

You kiss your teeth, “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Put that bag down and undress. Squat over the couch with that pussy sitting over the edge, okay?” He said it so casually, his naked chest looking edible.

“Okay,” you put your bag down, undressing again. You know you looked a mess but he didn’t care about that shit. Walking to the couch, you watch him as he takes a hit from his blunt. You get into position, arching with your legs wide and pussy sitting for his mouth. Erik admires you while blowing smoke from his lips, walking over to you and getting on his knees.

“You gon pop that ass and pussy while I eat your juicy shit from the back?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Good.”

You could feel him turning around, his arms up and on your ass, spreading you wide. You feel his lips kissing your pussy, eyes closing with bliss. He tongues your folds apart, his tongue dancing with your nectar. He slobs, then slurps, slobs, then slurps, a continuous pattern. Each time you would flinch, your clit jumping each time he did it. Fuck if you would get your pussy ate from someone else. He knew your pussy like the back of his hand. His tongue started flicking upward, only the tip of it teasing your clit and inner folds. It moved all over, Erik working that thing. You claw at the couch, turning your head no matter how painful to try and watch how he did that. This man was full of surprises.

“Daddy, how you doing that?” You ask with a sweet tone. He responds with a sloppy kiss to your clit. You fall against him, giving in to his dance.

“Fuck, Daddy.” You start popping your ass, the feeling of his gold slugs making you shiver. Shit, he was making you cum. Already this man was making you squirt. You were overwhelmed.

“SHIT,” you shake, pussy squirting in his mouth. He applauds you with a slap to the ass before going back to work. Now your clit was overworked and sensitive. The more he slobs the more you cum. And just like that, you were creaming.

“Oh, fuck yeahhhhh.” You talk into the couch cushion beneath you.

“My dick hard again. I told you.” He stands, dick ready to rip through his sweats.

You could hear your phone ringing, sure that it was Brandy but all that didn’t matter, Erik had you up in the air. You could see yourself in his mirrors that he had on his living room wall over his TV. You were so small compared to him. He’s taller, extremely taller, and so toned and cut, not one part of his body was covered with fat. He looked into that mirror too, eyes on you at times but also on the way he held you up like you were as light as an infant, bringing you down over his dick. Each time you both connected he would look back at you to catch your reaction. It didn’t matter how this man fucked you, it was great each time.

Erik walks over to the mirror while he still bounced you, turning sideways now, those full lips of his pouty and his eyes low and hazy.

“Creaming on me something serious,” he rewards you for that buy fucking up into you quickly. Your toes curl, hands around the back of his neck squeezing.

“Y/N, damn,” he scrunches his face, hands palming your ass to keep you up and open for him, “Baby girl, look at me.”

You look at him, moans stuck in your throat.

“Why you letting me take this pussy like this? You not afraid to fall for a nigga?”

You were already falling. It was only day two. He knew what he was doing. He played the game well.

“You not afraid to fall for me?” You catch your breath, “you’re not afraid to get pussy whipped by a girl like me? A little mama?”

“Nah, ma,” Erik shakes his head with a smirk, “not at all.”

You blush, your pussy gushing further over him. He may be your fuck buddy now but the thought of him being more excited you. He made you forget about your ex. Erik was the man of your dreams now a reality.

“Shit, I’m about to have a big fuck nut!!!” You watch as he fucks you at full throttle, body bouncing, wet pussy sliding, moans and groans loud for the entire apartment complex to hear.

“Fuck, girl!!!!” Erik slips out, resting you on the floor while cumming on your face and titties. You catch as much as you could and scrape up the rest to put on your tongue. Erik watched you with primal eyes, his sweat dripping on you. The sweat that smelled like citrus and patchouli. While you tasted and swallowed his cum you wished he would cum in you. You know why but damn his dick was good that’s where you wanted it next! You could only beg for it honestly.

“Ard, ma, time to get up we got some studying to do.” He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You watch him pick up your back pack Erik walking you back to his bedroom. How were you going to study and get through the semester with Erik’s dick in you at any given opportunity? This was going to be tough. Erik drops you on the bed, your body bouncing. As you sit up and fold your legs, Erik opens you bag while his blunt rested between his lips, pulling all of your things out that you needed.

“I’m serious about this studying, shorty. Education is important. You want me to help you out you gotta pay attention to everything I tell your little ass, Aight?”

“Okay, whatever you say, Erik.” You pull your hair up into a top knot bun.

“Gotta work hard for what you want,” he looks at you, a smirk growing on his face, “you hear me talking to you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy Erik when I’m in that puss, professor Erik when we hitting these books,” he takes a puff of his weed, “you smoke?”

You take the blunt without answering, smoking a little.

“Aight, what you get on your calculus exam?”

You felt embarrassed to say. You knew he would frown at you if you told him what it was.

“I’m an A average student, Erik.” You try and ease away from answering his question. His eyes were on you like he was ready to fuck you yet again.

“Ma,” he shakes his head, “just tell me. What you get?”

“A fucking 79.”

“You can do better but that’s better than shit I’ve seen. Stop beating yourself up, Y/N.”

His words had you dripping on his bed. You bounce, titties jumping and a seductive smile on your face. Your eyes focus on him, his still hard dick pointed to your mouth. He bites the corner of his lip, eyes peeking at the way your big ass titties looked bouncing. With a shake of his head and closed eyes, Erik grabs you by the chin, making you look up at him. He opens his eyes real slow, trapping you.

“Just suck my dick again, ma. You did that shit right the first time. I like the way you look chocking on my stick.”

Yep, this was going to be difficult.

@dameshaemonique @sheisexcellent1 @blktinkerbell

[randomfandomginger]

Don’t You Know (It’s Rude to Stare)

little factoid about this fic: it’s punk logan and a high school AU, and the shipping is intrulogical, so yeah here’s a snippet if you want to read it! It’s complete, two chapters long. There is some angst and fighting at the end of the first chapter, but then it gets fluffy

Words: 6kt

-----

There were three unspoken rules at Sanders Sides High.

Number one, if nothing else, the chicken nuggets were always the safest bet in the cafeteria, even if they look a little gray around the edges. Surprisingly, they’re the least likely entree to give you food poisoning.

Number two, if you ever need to hide anything from your parents, call Janus Devon. He’ll hook you up no biggie, so long as you have a crisp twenty dollar bill in hand when you inquire and you don’t ask him any prying questions. Just roll with it.

Number three, don’t mess with Remus Prince, no matter how tempting it is. The guy might be waxing poetic about the hair on Mothman’s back, just walk on past him, for your own good.

Remus Prince had met Logan Berry during his freshman year. Young, bright eyed, and excited to meet new people and experience new things, he had practically skipped through the front doors of the school at his brother’s side.

Roman Prince was everything that Remus wasn’t. He was instantly popular, a little too good at football for his own good, and he had all of his melanin. His jokes were a little more family friendly, and he charmed all of his teachers right off the bat.

This wasn’t to say that Roman wasn’t uppity about his situation, in fact, rather the opposite. He cared deeply for his brother, and had spent years defending his antics and slightly stranger behaviors. The two were thick as thieves, and with Roman around, Remus felt safe and happy. Roman defended him when other people didn’t, Roman accepted him no matter what.

That was why there was an inkling of doubt and fear lurking in the back of his mind as he set off in the opposite direction of his brother, off to his very first class. Roman was in the band, so off he went, but Remus had gym.

A little less pep in his step, Remus ducked his head a bit lower, allowing his mop of curly, milky white hair to obscure his eyes.

He was kind of dreading gym class regardless of whether or not his brother would be allowed to accompany him. The teacher split them by gender to go change before doing roll call, Remus slipping into his generic athletic shirt and shorts, tying his slightly longer hair back in a small ponytail at the back of his head.

They lined up roughly by last name, playing an awkward game of mumbled “oh, what’s your last name,” until they had sorted themselves more or less out. The teacher was going down the line, a bored expression on their face. Remus made a point to do his best and learn who his classmates were.

“Valarie Aarons?”

“Present!”

Valerie was a sweet looking girl with about shoulder length brown hair. She gave Remus a small smile when she caught him staring at her in interest, doing his best to assign faces to names.

“Terrence Abbot?”

“Here.”

Terrence looked unenthusiastic, though Remus couldn’t really blame him for that. Like Valarie, he gave Remus a small, confused smile when he noticed the freshman sizing him up. Remus wanted to make new friends as soon as possible, before he freaked everyone out too badly.

There was a small sigh before the teacher called the next name. “Logan Berry?”

“Mmh.”

If Remus was staring before, he must have been ogling now. This boy looked nothing like the other classmates, that is, dressed for gym class. His long black hair covered one of his eyes, blue streaks breaking up the silky strands with a little bit of color. His foundation was a pale white, and his deep cerulean eyes appeared to be lined in heavy black eyeshadow. Those same eyes were staring at him curiously, Remus noticed with a flush, and he glanced away quickly for only a moment to break the intensity of the stare. His insides felt funny.

“Who is that?” he whispered to the boy next to him curiously.

“Hmm?” he looked uninterested for only a moment before he realized who Remus was staring at. Then he just chuckled, even as Remus continued to blatantly stare after the third boy in their line. “That’s Logan Berry, he’s a junior this year. Probably one of the nastiest, most reclusive of his entire grade. I wouldn’t go looking at him for too long, he gets angry when people stare.”

Read on AO3 here

[joonsdiary]

the ceo’s keeper

↳ part three of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing: seokjin x reader (female) genre: arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst  word count: 5,8k

chapter summary: visiting seokjin in his Tower of Terror™ reveals he carries a lot more baggage than you intend to claim.

warning. alcohol consumption, a few curse words here and there; nothing worth putting the mature tag but i’d still advice to proceed with caution. 

note. putting it out there since i don’t think i’ve mentioned it before, but this fic was initially inspired by yuna’s (not) the love of my life. just putting it out there as a song rec in case you’ve not heard it yet!

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

“Guess who’s in the front cover of Daily Gossip and is trending number one in the search engines?” Taehyung barged into Seokjin's office early Monday morning a few seconds after Mina phoned his arrival. His brother plopped himself in the plush leather chair across his office table, lifting one leg to rest it on top of the other.

Seokjin didn’t have to guess as he often donned the front cover of plenty of tabloids. But not because of anything work-related, which he never really understood. Were his date nights that interesting to many people? Must be, if they were constantly writing about it. He then remembered your quip a few days ago regarding his ‘date’ with the president’s daughter but was quickly reminded that a certain Yoongi had told you about it. The corner of his lips curled downwards. 

“Aren’t I always on the front cover?” he doesn’t even bother to look up as he spoke while continuing to type endlessly on his keyboard. If there was one thing he hated about his job, it would have to be coordinating e-mails. He would usually allocate the task to Mina, but certain emails that contain sensitive information would have to be drafted by him.

“Yes, but, hear this—” Taehyung cleared his throat for effect and shifted in his seat, holding his phone in front of him theatrically, “Seoul’s most eligible bachelor’s newest FLING is somebody you won’t expect!” 

“As I said, it’s nothing new,” he deadpanned.

Taehyung chastised him with a shush before continuing.

“Kim Seokjin’s date du jour – I’m pretty sure they used the word in the wrong context here – is the twenty-four-year-old hotelier – wait, she’s that young?”

“I can’t interrupt you, but you keep stopping yourself for your little commentaries,” Seokjin grumbled as he hit the send button, only partially listening to Taehyung. “And she’s practically the same age as you.” 

“Yes, but an owner, albeit previously, of a hotel? That’s pretty impressive.” 

Seokjin rolled his eyes at Taehyung’s remark, but one of the reasons why he’d agree to this whole masquerade in the first place is due to your reputation. You were a woman of class and grace in spite of your moderate — for a lack of a better term — upbringing. As far as he was concerned, you were respected among the elites; the perfect remedy to clear his name of his tarnished credibility, which he blames solely on the tabloids. Whoever he chooses to go on a date with, no matter how frequently the person changed every week, was no one’s business but his. 

Yet the camera lenses never strayed too far from him wherever he went. It was tedious and stupid because he wasn’t some celebrity who craved attention. Yet he had to make peace with the fact because the board of directors was all about reputation instead of the actual work that Seokjin put into elevating the company.  

“Anyway, back to the gossip,” Taehyung scrolled down further on his screen, “blah, blah – oh! We have a feeling she’s special because unlike his other dates, he brought her to his upscale restaurant, Chateau – You had dinner at Mom’s restaurant? That is certainly news.”

The fact that Taehyung still referred to it as ‘Mom’s restaurant’ brought warmth in Seokjin’s chest. 

“It was a last-minute decision. She said she went on a date at the place you suggested the night before.” 

“That is also news,” Taehyung said, teasing. “Do tell me the details, dear brother.” 

“Apparently it was a move to get under her parent’s skin. It was shortly before she knew of my proposal, obviously. Nothing much to spill.”

“Mhm,” the smirk lingered on Taehyung’s lips, but he pressed on with the article. He quietly read with his eyes for a while before blurting out an expletive, which caused Seokjin to look up momentarily from his screen. 

“What?”

Taehyung sighed as he squinted at his brother, reciting the text verbatim. “But their rendezvous, however, ended early with them parting ways; he headed straight to Kim Hotel after dropping her off. Does this mean the night didn’t go as they’d planned? Will she be another date-and-dash for our handsome CEO-to-be?” 

“Date-and-dash,” Seokjin scoffed before laughing in disbelief. “That might be the best term they’ve come up with so far.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t want everybody to think this is another date-and-dash for you.” 

“I’m only worried about Dad’s opinion. Everybody else can think whatever they want.”   

“They can still hire an outsider as CEO.” 

“Dad wouldn’t let them do that.”

“There’s only so much power he can hold. That’s what the board of directors is for.” 

He paused, letting Taehyung’s words simmer. His brother never bothered much for the corporate side of the business, opting to delve more into his artistic side. He was responsible for much of the interior design of any and every Kim Hotel they decided to build, but that’s about it as far as his contribution went. If Taehyung was content and satisfied with whatever he chose, then so was Seokjin. 

“You’re right,” Seokjin’s lips pursed, hating the admission.

“Aren’t I always?” Taehyung snorts before sighing and putting his phone away. “You’re going to have to put a little bit more pep in your step, as the saying goes, if you want to make this look more sincere than it actually is.”

Seokjin contemplated the implication of the word sincere. He thought he had been as truthful as possible in his interaction with you two nights prior. His conversation with you ebbed seamlessly, save for the second half of the night where you discussed business. It had been the sincerest interaction he had with a woman whom he didn’t have to bed that same night as he normally would. The farthest he’d gone with you so far was a chaste kiss on the forehead, which he deemed you were uncomfortable with. 

“Should I make out with her on our next date, then?” Seokjin quipped. He didn’t mean it seriously, but the delighted look in his brother’s face told him they weren’t on the same page. “I was kidding, V.” 

He threw the nickname out with an ill-intention, knowing how much Taehyung resented it. His brother sighed, slumping on the chair and mussing his curly locks. It baffled Seokjin how one could grow their hair out past their eyebrows, but it seemed to suit Taehyung, nonetheless, fitting with the artistic look he was trying to accomplish.

“It’s something to talk to her about. If she’s comfortable with it, then why the hell not?” Taehyung shrugged, tugging at his turtleneck. 

Would you even be open to the idea? Hell, you’re bound to get married in less than three weeks, but he hadn’t entertained the thought. All the women he’s dated so far knew what to expect of him, and vice versa: sex after dinner. That was the mantra. 

“I don’t know, Taehyung…” he trailed off. 

It’s not that he thought of you as a prude, but his arrangement with you had strictly been business, and Seokjin was the type not to mix the two. He never pried with anything past surface level with the women he had relationships with; he never stayed long enough to know. Or he wasn’t interested enough to stay and get past the tip of the iceberg. 

He no longer wanted to entertain the idea of forever with somebody, and longevity isn’t something he’s interested in. Been there, done that. Not exactly his cup of tea — he’d learned the hard way. Best he moved along.

“Fine, but mild contact is still on the table. You didn’t even hold her hand, according to the article.” 

“I did,” Seokjin said defensively. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, and that was a problem in and of itself. 

“Tell her, Jin.” 

“I will if it gets you off my back. Now kindly screw off,” he grinned at his inside joke before continuing. “I have a meeting with a contractor in five minutes.” 

“Ouch, since when do you use such harsh words, dear brother?” Taehyung whined, clasping the front of this sweater with his hand. He straightened up, nonetheless, slipping his phone in the pocket of his black slacks. “Jeju?” 

Seokjin nodded, opening another email that needed a return message. 

“Shouldn’t Namjoon be here for that?”

“I already called him this morning. He’s still having way too much fun in Switzerland, but he’ll be back by the end of the week.” 

“Taeri’s probably mad that you’re pulling her husband away from her so early after their wedding.” Taehyung laughed as he shook his head, but Seokjin only grinned.

“It’s been two months. He has to come back. This operation doesn’t run itself; I’ll have you know.” 

Taehyung dismissed him with a passive, “Yeah, yeah.”

There’s a pause, and Seokjin furrowed his brows at his brother’s sudden teasing expression.

“But I still can’t believe he got married before you.” Taehyung pointed an accusing finger at him, and Seokjin laughed.

“I can’t believe it either. He’s certainly way worse than I am.”

“But better at break-ups than you are. You just leave them hanging,” Taehyung squinted his eyes with indignation. Seokjin gives his brother a tight-lipped smile.

“Not entirely true. I technically don’t do the whole dating thing officially. What’s more, I give them—”

“Mr. Kim, your ten-thirty is here,” Mina’s voice crackled through the phone. Seokjin sighed in relief, grateful for once that he was being interrupted with another meeting.  

“I guess that’s my cue,” Taehyung turned, his Gucci loafers dragging him halfway through the office. “Don’t forget to tell Y/N.”

“I won’t. She’s stopping by later.” 

“Oh? I should stick around, then.” 

“We don’t need your constant badgering, thank you very much.” He called out, but Taehyung was already out of his office by then.

                                      *  *  *

You had never been to the Kim Hotel before, there was simply no reason to step foot into one of their many copy-and-paste buildings that dotted the entire country. You joked to Seokjin a few nights ago about the hotel being his tower, but the building was indeed massive, which would make sense seeing that they are billionaires, after all. They wouldn’t have a measly bed-and-breakfast type of hotel like you do. You stood rooted to the ground, squinting up the massive fortress.

(You’d think at some point they’d have to consider the safety of the poor birds that get confused and end up slamming themselves into its reflective windows, but that seemed like a thought for another day.)

Pushing aside all the uneasy feeling that bubbled from your stomach, you collected yourself mentally and pushed through the revolving doors. It was exactly like you thought it was — the pinnacle of contemporary interior design. Everything blended seamlessly, uncluttered and unbearably white it was practically blinding you. Not wanting to be caught ogling the furniture, you made your way to the steel elevators, punching the button to the highest floor. Seokjin didn’t give you any details as to where his office is located, but surely the highest floor of this gargantuan building would belong to him. The doors slid open after what seemed like a lifetime, and you were greeted with a curt voice.

“Do you have an appointment?”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. “I believe so. My name is—”

“Finally! I thought you’d never arrive,” a brunette with an uncharacteristically wavy hair came bumbling out of what you assumed was a boardroom office. His hands were buried in the pocket of his loosely fitted slacks and an easygoing aura surrounded him. His presence was unmistakable, and despite not sharing the same facial features as Seokjin, you could tell who it was.

“Taehyung?”

His eyes lit up when you said his name as his lips formed into an attractive smile. He turned to Seokjin’s secretary.

“Mina, darling,” he said languidly, but the female did not bat her mascaraed eyelashes. “Will you let us in?”

Ah, so this was the lady you spoke with on the phone when you’d initially tried to get a hold of Seokjin. She seemed less terrifying when you met her face to face; her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and she wore minimal makeup. She looked friendlier than she sounded, why were you afraid of calling, again?

“Mr. Kim is in a meeting right now,” she busied herself with her work while she spoke. “If you’d wait a moment—”

“But Mina, baby,” Taehyung crooned, leaning over her desk perhaps a little too close. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics; he’s certainly quite different from how Seokjin acted. Whereas Seokjin kept himself aloof most of the time, Taehyung wore his emotions on his sleeve. Both are still unabashedly forward, nonetheless.

Mina stayed impassive, and you can tell why Seokjin hired her to guard his lair — the woman could not be cracked. You admitted to yourself that if Taehyung were to charm your pants off, you’d be completely hooked.

His efforts were rendered futile, however, when the wooden doors of Seokjin’s office opened and gave way to an ebony-haired woman. She was in the middle of securing her wool coat as her heels echoed with confidence through the marble floors, side-stepping to get around you but not before flashing you a lithe smile. The self-assurance you held before walking into the building had all but withered away.

“Taehyung.” She greeted him, but he only stared at her with an impassive gaze. “It’s nice seeing you around here.”

She headed straight to the elevators and disappeared even before you could blink.

“I didn’t think she’d be here today,” Taehyung mumbled.

“She’s the president’s daughter, right?” you asked, not bothering to remember what her name was. Taehyung nodded.

Strictly business my ass. You didn’t want to care, but your all-too-sudden sour mood said otherwise.

You push past the same wooden doors as the woman had earlier and you find Seokjin propped to his desk, hair slicked back, forehead taut in concentration as he focused on whatever was on his screen. If he’d been doing The Deed, you don’t think he’d look as put together as he currently does. That much was enough for you to relax into his leather chaise. Taehyung followed closely, opting to sit on the couch on the far side of the room.

“Future wife, how are you today?” Seokjin began, and you’re irritated slightly by his refusal to set aside whatever he was doing.

“About as well as one can be while visiting their corporate shark fiancé, Mr. Kim. You?”

Taehyung barked out a laugh from where he sat, and you patted yourself on the back. It’s the little accomplishments, you mused to yourself.

Seokjin’s head snapped at Taehyung and he gave his brother a glare that sliced through the room.

“I told you that you’re not needed here today, Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored Seokjin, clutching his stomach as he wiped away imaginary tears. “Damn, can I be married to her instead?”

“I don’t like the idea of me being thrown around like a piece of meat for your amusement,” you deadpanned, and Taehyung straightened up quickly.

“I didn’t mean to offend, Sis. I only wanted to rile Jin up for my amusement.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he gave you another million-dollar smile. Seokjin sighed as he stood, buttoning up the blazer of his suit. He picked up a manila envelope that was on the edge of his desk before rounding the table.

“You don’t have to sign today. You can take it home and read it over with a lawyer if you want.” He hands you the files before leaning back into the glass table. You shook your head as you pulled out the documents with confidence. If there had been one thing you learned from your parents, it was how to properly read official documents without glossing over important details. Legal documents often used extensive jargon, and you could easily tell they were drafted by actual lawyers. It gave you a tiny bit of relief that he wasn’t trying to scam you.

Your fingers skimmed your hotel’s name in print, somehow unable to wrap your mind around the fact that you no longer owned it. But the promise was clear in ink under commencement of your divorce: your hotel would be yours.

“Do you need one?” Your head lifted to meet Seokjin’s gaze after minutes of silence. He offered a fountain pen that glinted against the afternoon sun as he moved it closer to you. You felt a wave of emotions suddenly overwhelming you, and you blink up at him before shaking your head.

“Maybe I should look it over with a lawyer, after all,” you mumbled while giving him a timid smile. He nodded in understanding and moved back behind his desk.

“It’s no pressure at all.”

“It’s not that… I just,” you inhaled through your nose and out through your mouth. Between revealing your true feelings or lightening the mood with a banter, you chose the latter. “I just want to make sure you’re not hiding any tricks up your sleeves, Mr. Kim.”

“I’m not one to joke around with things like this, Ms. Hwang,” Seokjin said pointedly, and you frowned. Okay, not the mood I was going for.

“That’s true; he doesn’t. He’s as uptight as they come.” Taehyung quipped, rising from his comfortable spot before plopping beside you. He patted your shoulders, almost apologetically. “You’ll get used to him.”

“I highly doubt that,” you snorted, stuffing the papers back in their envelope. “I have no interest in being the CEO’s keeper.”

Taehyung peeled back from you for another belly laugh, and Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I’m right here, you know.”

Taehyung waved him off dismissively and turned back to you. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Y/N.”

There was a wicked gleam in Taehyung’s eyes, but you knew he was being playful rather than having malicious intent.

“Didn’t you say there was something else you wanted to talk about, V?” Seokjin’s voice was seething, which caused Taehyung’s grin to grow wider.

“Right, right,” he shifted in his seat as he whipped out his phone. “I made notes, hold on.”

“What’s this about?” you looked between the brothers with confusion.

“Apparently we did the whole ‘date’ thing wrong.” Seokjin deadpanned, rolling his eyes before he turned back to his work.

“Meaning?”

“One, lack of intimacy,” it was Taehyung who answered, and you blush at his comment. You’re reminded of how Seokjin had pulled you against him the moment you stepped out of the car.

“Going excessive on the first date would’ve made it seem disingenuous,” you pointed out, and Seokjin mumbled in agreement.

“Do you not know how Jin usually is with his former dates?” Taehyung asked, which froze Seokjin mid-type.

“I don’t make the habit of reading gossip blogs and tabloids for celebrities,” you mumbled, hoping they bought into your pretense of being calm. In your head you prayed Taehyung wouldn’t elaborate; the image of Seokjin with other women made you want to hurl your guts out. “I could honestly care less.”

“Right,” Taehyung gave you a slanted gaze, and you shrugged. “Please keep in mind to give a little bit more, next time, then.”

“Will do, Chief,” Seokjin grumbled, massaging his temples with both his hands.

“Second, no going home separately, especially since news of your engagement will hit the public this week.”

You fidgeted in your seat, the air in the room suddenly growing warmer.

“There’s a spare room in the penthouse suite,” Seokjin motioned at a door on the other side of his office with his chin. “The bathroom is always stocked with amenities in case—”

The word in case hung in the air like a thick fog, and Seokjin did not have to finish the sentence for you to figure out what he was trying to get at. The message was clear. But to be quite frank, you couldn’t care less. Right before agreeing to the arrangement, it was clear that Seokjin was that type of man, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that he would bring women to his home, which also happened to be where his office was. Yet, there was an uncomfortable prickle in your heart and your palm unintentionally raised to soothe the phantom pain.

“I’m alright with taking a spare office or something. I’ll work for a few hours then head home past midnight. That should raise enough eyebrows, right?” you hoped neither one of them noticed the slight quiver in your voice.

Taehyung must have sensed it because his voice grew quiet. “Okay, I’m sure you two will work something out. That’s it, for now. I’m going to assume the rest will come naturally.”

You had a feeling he had a longer list but opted to be sensible enough to feel your mood shift. Seokjin didn’t say anything, but the lack of clicking noises coming from his direction told you he’s not working, either. You turned, locking gazes with him, but he remained expressionless which irritated you more than you’d like to admit.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” you brushed imaginary lint off your high-waisted slacks as you stood up.

“So soon?” Taehyung pouted, earning a small laugh from you. The nerves were slowly dissipating, and you were glad.

“I have a date,” you paused, gauging Seokjin’s reaction. The scowl on his face made you smirk. “With some classmates from uni. Gotta keep up with the social circle if I want occasional help with my thesis, right?”

While that was true, the dinner isn’t until three hours from now. But you had no plans to stay here a minute longer; the tense air was suffocating you.

“Don’t be a stranger, Sis.” Taehyung engulfed you in a warm hug and you patted his back, chuckling in amusement.

“See you around, Taehyung.” As you pulled away, you gave Seokjin a slanted gaze. “I’ll give the papers back as soon as I can.”

You wobbled slightly as you headed for the door, disappointed that Seokjin didn’t stop you. He didn’t even bid you farewell. You scoffed.

“Have a good afternoon, Ms. Hwang.” Mina greeted you as you made your way to the elevator. You turned back to her with a genuine smile.

“You as well.”

+++

The pulsing beat of the music had your head throbbing with pain, but you didn’t think it’d be wise to complain. Especially because you couldn’t quite look Seokjin in the eyes for reasons completely unknown to you. Or perhaps you did know, you just chose not to dwell on them.

Two days after your productive visit to Seokjin’s Tower of Terror, your calendar graciously reminded you of another date you’ve set up with him. There was supposed to be a lunch date the day prior, but due to unforeseen circumstances (more so on his part rather than yours), you both agreed to have it cancelled. He apologized, but you dismissed him and said that you forgot that your mother had asked you to visit her and your father, anyways.

(In reality, she hadn’t and was delighted you called to say you were bringing them take-outs for lunch.)

“Wednesday nights are busier than I thought,” Seokjin mused, pulling you out of your mini daydream. You looked up, which proved to be a mistake because the club’s lights flickered in a way that accentuated his features; his straight nose that’s angled between his ever-so-prominent cheekbones. His fringe was down that evening — a sight that you have not yet witnessed. It made him seem younger than his actual age; more laidback, less prim and proper. In any other given scenario, this would not disarm you, but the occasional spark of colour highlighted how close his face was from yours.

In other words, you really ought to get used to being in close proximity to him if you were to continue this ordeal.

“It’s always full of people, no matter the day.”

Seokjin’s brows furrowed as his head dipped, inching his ears closer. You knew you’d flinch away if his arm wasn’t draped around your shoulders. “What was that?”

“I said it doesn’t matter what day it is — it’s always full here,” his scent made you feel more inebriated than the alcohol you held. You found it surprising that Kim Seokjin is not much into the club scene, thinking that people like him often spend half their time wasting away

He whipped his head to meet your gaze once more, a grin forming on his lips. “Of course, you’d know.”

There was something in the tone of his voice that made you want to defend yourself. “I have a social life too, Mr. Kim.”

“I never said you didn’t. But you’re more of a designated driver type rather than the drunk, party all night type of gal. Am I right?”

Your eye twitched in annoyance. Was he really stereotyping you now?

“You don’t know the half of it, Kim Seokjin,” you mutter, unsure whether he heard you or not. But you didn’t care, and instead proceeded to finish your margarita in one chug. You set down on the glass table in front of you before peeling yourself off of him and the velvet sofa. The desire to prove you weren’t prude — despite him not saying it outright — felt greater than your sense of logic and reasoning.

You wobbled slightly as all the blood in your system rushed to your brain. But you managed to steady yourself as you turned back to Seokjin. He watched you with interest, but his lips remained sealed in a grin.

“I do like being the designated driver at times. No shame in keeping my friends safe. Am I right?” you pushed Seokjin’s shoulder with one finger until his back hit the plush sofa. There was no turning back, you realized, when your leather skirt hitched higher as you placed your knees one after the other, effectively trapping him between your thighs. Alcohol was definitely coursing through your veins as you sat on his lap.

It never occurred to you that you’d be so brazen in front of Kim Seokjin. But here you were with your cheeks flushed and heart hammering wildly against your chest, wanting so desperately to prove that his expectations of you were wrong.

“But I can also have fun without being shit-faced.” The less you think about it, the better it was for you not to get embarrassed. So, you ignore his smug, seemingly unfazed expression as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You were convinced you’ve only got one functioning brain cell left. But if Taehyung were present to judge, you knew he would gag with approval.

“Is that so?” Seokjin played along, and you weren’t entirely shocked; the man was probably used to such endeavours on a nightly basis before your arrangement. He placed his palm against the small of your back, and instead of pulling away, you leaned closer. Being this promiscuous in private was nothing new for you, but never when you knew there were several eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“Shall we give them something to write about, fiancé?” your eyes trailed down to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. You knew he wouldn’t oppose, but you still needed his consent. He nodded with a glint of amusement in his eyes and the next thing you knew, your lips were in his. He was firm and unwavering, slightly aggressive but he damn well knew what he was doing. It felt as if he'd set your body on fire with one singular moment.

You broke away first, eyes seeing but unfocused as you heaved a sigh, lungs welcoming the sweet taste of oxygen. Seokjin chuckled as he studied you with newfound interest, surprisingly well put together compared to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” you peeled back from him, pulling your leather skirt down in the process. “That’s probably enough to placate the onlookers.”

You looked around, but the dim lights made it hard to see beyond a few meters. Seokjin followed your actions, and you feel the familiar warmth emanating from him once more. His arm was draped around you once more, but the gesture felt natural this time around. The mere smile he gave you was enough to send butterflies drifting in your stomach. You wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud, but at least you wouldn’t have to pretend to be attracted to him.

                                      *  *  *

“Birthday?” 

“Couldn’t you have just googled this? I’m sure I have a Wikipedia page.” Seokjin said, quite peeved that you didn’t know his birthday yet, when he’d memorized yours: May 24, 1996. You gave him a deadpan look and he sighed defeatedly. “December 4.”

“Year?” 

“Seriously?” 

You said nothing, opting to dip a fry in your Oreo-flavoured ice cream instead. He wasn’t surprised when you asked to ditch the club to eat, citing that you’d puke your guts out if you didn’t get any food in your system. He didn’t think you meant McDonald’s at midnight. 

“1992.” 

“Was that so hard?” you mumbled, typing the information on your phone. “Your birthday is coming up soon.” 

“If by soon you mean two months from now, then yes.” 

“Technically, it’s the seventh today, so it’s less than two months,” you pointed out but didn’t wait for him to return the conversation. “Favourite colour?”

“Are you writing a slam book? Would you like to know who my celebrity crush is, as well?” he rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, actually. Let me guess; is it Florence Pugh? Ana de Armas? Brad Pitt? Or someone local…Jun Jihyun?” you mused. He only shook his head at your antics, convinced that you were not fully sober yet. “I’m kidding. I’m just filling out your contact information.” 

You slid your phone across the table, which landed perfectly in front of him. True to your words, most of the information was filled out: Rapunzel donned the first name, and nothing was filled out for the last name option. He chuckled but didn’t bother changing it to his actual name and proceeded to input his number. 

“That was smooth, Y/n, I must admit. You couldn’t have just asked for it straight up?” 

You shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

He handed your phone back, and moments later, his phone buzzed in his jean pockets. He opened the message — no doubt it had been from you. 

𝗂 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 “𝗅����𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾” ;)

Seokjin simply shook his head; it felt unfamiliar for him to be smiling so much he could feel his cheeks go numb. If he knew how amusing it would be to go on a fake-real-date with you, he would’ve asked his father to set him up with you.

Wait, what?

He turned two strides back, retrieving the steps he made. Certainly, you couldn’t have grown on him so quickly — but in reality, it felt like that for a while now, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He thought the whole ordeal with you would be cumbersome, but it’s been quite the opposite so far. He commended your tenacity to go along with any plans he’s laid out, so far.

That’s because you’re holding her hotel hostage.

To be quite frank, it would’ve been none of his business if he decided not to meddle with his father’s whims. But he’d honestly rather be divorced and have his father lash out at him than be stuck in some arrangement he didn’t want. While it’s true that he could divorce you, either way, the key was the illusion of being in love. As Taehyung kindly pointed out to him: How devastating would it be that you both fell out of love, that they won’t consider rescinding the CEO position once you have it?

The stories would circulate around the heartbreak, instead of the bluff that was his arranged marriage for the sake of saving face. 

Although now that he was sitting across from you as he watched you relentlessly dip your fried potatoes in your ice cream for the umpteenth time, the prospect of being married to you no longer felt as daunting. Especially if you were willing to make out with him on occasion as you had earlier. It wasn’t part of the contract, but he was willing to add the extra clause if you’d agree. 

“What do you have that creepy grin for, Mr. Kim Seokjin?” 

“I’m thinking of taking you home with me tonight, Ms. Hwang.” Seokjin’s satisfaction was evident in his smirk when he saw your eyes widen. He swore he saw you go through five emotions in the span of a mere second. 

“Stop teasing. It’s not funny.” 

He watched your already blushed cheeks turn a shade deeper as he chuckled. “I’m not teasing. Taehyung’s rules, remember?” 

“Oh, right,” you blinked at him blankly. “I forgot to bring my laptop with me so I can have something to work with.”

“You were serious about occupying an office space?” he gawked, brows knitted. 

“I was. I’m not sleeping over in your Mistress Suite.” You said in a monotone voice, but the indignation in your eyes told Seokjin you were more than serious — you were offended. At least he could tell that much.

“That name has a nice ring to it. Do you mind if I start calling it that, instead of just the guest room?” The pointed look you gave him made him think you were less than amused with his banter. Seokjin sighed and stood up, motioning for you to follow. “Don’t worry, no one has stayed there for two weeks.”

“I really didn’t need to know,” you grumbled. Seokjin reached out for you to take his hand. 

“I’m sure you didn’t. But I’d still like to let you know that I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize this arrangement.” 

That was part of the truth. The other part came in the form of his animosity towards infidelity. Seokjin genuinely hoped you didn’t think he would cheat on you during the span of your agreement. He had issues committing, yes, but he couldn’t begin to imagine inflicting such pain on another person. Not when he’s had firsthand experience on the subject.

It reassured him that there was an end to your charade, a point where he can say checkmate and the game would be over. Commitment still has to be made, for sure, but nothing that would leave him like an empty husk of his former self afterwards. No monsters under the bed, no skeletons in the closet, either.

You slid off the booth but did not take his outstretched hand, so he casually stuffed in his pocket. You were setting your limits, and he had to respect that. Perhaps the silly extra clause he thought of will not be a necessity, after all.

NEXT ;

thanks for reading this chapter. feedback is always appreciated! ♡

[mojofun]

One Last Time (Sebastian Stan x OC)

So, this story is part of a fantastic writing challenge. I decided to partcipate, and this is the story I wrote about our one and only Sebastian Stan, based on the prompt “One last time”

Beware: tooth-rotting fluff ahead. Proceed with caution.

JK ;)

Give it a read if you want and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it; let me know what you think and shoutout to @kitkatd7 for launching this writing challenge. Check out their account if you want to participate :)

_______________________________________________________________________

<<Tess, darling, we need to go!>> A woman with curly caramel hair shouted, looking at a little girl who was having the time of her life on the swing.

The woman was smiling adoringly. It warmed her heart to see the child so happy, but she needed to go grocery shopping before the stores closed for lunchtime break

<<But mommy, I’m having so much fun!>> The kid protested with a pout, slowing down her movements until she came to a halt

<<Tess…>>

The poor mother trailed off when her daughter fixed her wide, innocent jade green eyes on her, pursing her lips. The woman sighed, brushing her daughter’s strawberry blond hair out of her small face

<<I can see you’re enjoying yourself my dear, but we need to go shopping. Besides, other children want to go on the swing, and it’s not fair for you to hog it>>

Tess flinched, lowering her head guiltily.

Then, she noticed a little boy that was standing a few feet from her, staring expectantly.

He wants to go on the swing, the little girl thought. Mommy was right

Determined to make up for her selfishness, Tess approached the other child bashfully

<<Hi! Sorry for not letting you have a go, I just… Lost track of time>>

The boy smiled reassuringly, shaking his head

<<No problem, don’t worry>>

<<Why didn’t you say anything?>>

He shrugged

<<You were enjoying yourself too much; I didn’t want to disturb you>>

<<Oh>>

The little girl blushed at that statement. She took in his appearance, from the baby blue eyes to the blondish-brown hair and adorable smile that he was still giving her.

It brought one to her face as well

He’s so nice

<<Thank you, that’s very sweet. Anyway, it’s your turn now>>

He beamed, thanking her before walking past her toward the coveted swing.

Suddenly, just when he was about to sit on it, he stopped and turned to face her again

<<Why don’t you go again?>>

<<What?>>

<<One last time>>

Tess gasped, amazed that a stranger was being so nice to her. Normally, kids were so selfish- the thought made her blush darken even more.

He’s so, so nice

<<Really? You don’t mind?>>

<<It’s ok: I’m spending the afternoon here, so I’ll have a lot of time to go on this swing>>

He shrugged again, still smiling at her.

Before she could register what was going on, Tess threw herself at the boy with her arms open, hugging him tightly

<<Thank you, thank you very much>>

A few moments went by before she realised what she’d done. She tried to disentangle herself, but he hugged her back before she could

<<You’re welcome. Now go, or your mom will make you leave>>

They pulled apart

<<Before I go, what’s your name?>>

<<Sebastian. Yours?>>

<<Tess. Nice to meet you, Sebastian>>

<<Right back to you, Tess>> He grinned at her, giving her a slight push <<Now go, hurry!>>

She ran back to the swing, smiling so much that her cheeks hurt.

<<Mommy, will we come back tomorrow?>> Tess asked her mother while they pulled over by the store. The woman chuckled

<<Of course, my dear. Why do you ask? Do you want to see that boy again?>>

For the third time that day, the blonde child felt her cheeks heat up in flames

<<Oh, darling, don’t be embarrassed>>

<<You’re mean>>

<<I’ll buy you some chocolate milk to make up for my teasing, alright?>>

The mother knew those were the magic words to get her daughter to smile again, and that’s what happened

<<Yes, thank you>>

<<You’re welcome, honey.

By the way, that boy was very kind to you. Did you get his name?>>

Her daughter grinned, nodding vehemently

<<It’s->>

_______________________________________________________________________

<<Sebastian Stan!>> Tess shouted, stomping inside the man’s apartment with a deadly glare.

The unaware offender was relaxing on his couch, watching tv. When she burst in he almost jumped to the ceiling, dropping the remote

<<Tess! What the hell?>>

<<You!>> She hollered again, threateningly pointing at him with her index <<You little->>

<<What did I do?>> He pleaded, confused and worried. She pushed a piece of paper against his chest with a huff

<<How could you just drop the invitation to your premiere at my apartment without even telling me?>>

Finally, the cause behind her temper was revealed. Sebastian deflated, feeling instantly relieved; so relieved in fact, that he laughed in her face.

Wrong move. His friend glared at him even more, bearing down on him

<<You think it’s funny, you airhead? I have nothing to wear! I need to get my hair done, and my nails, and->>

<<Sweetie>> The actor began, trying to calm her down with a smile and a soft pat to the back <<it’s fine>>

<<No it’s not. Us mortals need to->>

<<I know some people that can help you, don’t worry.>>

Just like that, Tess went from upset to flabbergasted

<<You do- You wa- What?>>

He tried to, he really did; he mustered all his abilities as an actor that he’d acquired through the years, but even that was not enough.

Thus, seeing his best friend so stunned, Sebastian couldn’t help bursting into hysterics, throwing his head back and plonking down on the couch

<<Your face! I wish I had a camera!>>

<<You suck>> She retaliated, no real hard feelings in her voice.

After a few minutes, during which the female enjoyed watching him laugh, he pulled himself together and took her hands in his

<<Darling, all will be ok; just trust me. Will you?>>

He received an eye-roll and a nod in response. Ignoring the former, he concentrated on the latter and stood up

<<Perfect. Let me get my phone, I’ll arrange everything. You sit back and relax>>

Tess snorted, reclining on the couch

<<Damn right you will: you got me in this pretty pickle, you’ll sort it out>>

<<You suck>>

<<You wish>> She teased with a wink

_______________________________________________________________________

<<Mr Stan, over here!>>

<<Mr Stan!>>

<<Sebastian, can I have a word?>>

Flashes were going off everywhere, but he didn’t mind anymore; he was used to it. The overwhelming attempts by reporters to interview him did not bother him much either, probably because he was distracted.

In fact, any observer would have noticed him staring at the road expectantly, anticipation oozing from his every pore.

He was waiting for Tess.

In the years after their encounter at the park, the two of them had become the best of friends. Both he and Tess began to ask their mothers to go back to the park with insistence, until it became a sort of tradition; the two women even exchanged numbers at some point, so they could organise playdates for the two kids.

Playdates.

That word made him shiver.

He was incredibly happy to have met the strawberry-blonde: she was an amazing friend, always there for him, supportive and ready to give him a kick where the sun don’t shine if he needed it. The thought of all their late-night conversations, her pep talks before his auditions, the number of times they went to the park -and on that very same swing- even as grown adults…

It brought a huge smile on his face.

He relished each and every memory, thankful to have in his life someone so amazing.

That’s why he was so mad at himself.

In fact, there was a not-so-small secret that he kept from his best friend: he’d fallen in love with her.

The actor was incredibly mad at himself, afraid to ruin a friendship he valued more than anything with a slip of the tongue; if it happened, he’d never forgive himself. Thus, he’d resorted to wallowing in his pain, settling for being her best pal rather than a stranger.

No matter his job, however, he continuously wondered how long his lie would last.

Every time it came to mind, he shivered.

Finally, another car nosed its way along the pavement before coming to a halt.

When the door opened, Sebastian felt his breath leave his lungs in a whoosh.

Was that vision really his Tess, the tomboy who preferred mud splashes to makeup? She was always beautiful, but that night… She was magnificent.

The dress she wore -which she’d kept from him until the last moment, much to his chagrin- was a splendid, shimmering black gown, with an extremely steep neckline that was offset by discreet, nude-coloured fabric decorated with small rhinestones; the slit in the skirt was vertiginous, and it showed her shapely leg and the black heels she’d chosen. With her waist-length hair curled in doll-like locks and blood-red lips on the lips that distracted him so often, she looked like a goddess straight out of his dreams.

The smile she gave him when their eyes met only reinforced that impression; he felt his heart flutter, watching her step closer to him

<<Sebastian! Hi, how are you?>>

<<Hi. I’m->> He harrumphed <<I’m good thanks. You look amazing tonight, by the way>>

Is that blush on her cheeks?

<<Thank you. You clean up nice too>> She whispered timidly.

He smiled at her, straightening his red tie and the lapels of the dark grey jacket he wore. Then, he offered her his arms

<<Shall we go, my lady?>>

The posh accent he used made her giggle; in reality, it was also due to his gallant gesture.

The young woman tried to mimic his pronunciation when gave him her arm and replied

<<Indeed, good sir>>

They went in the theatre together, laughing like the children they were.

_______________________________________________________________________

<<Thank you for the wonderful evening, Seb. I had a wonderful time>>

Tess murmured, standing on the steps of her apartment where he’d accompanied her.

The blue-eyed man looked at his best friend with a slight smile. In reality, he was fighting an internal battle. Namely, he was trying to suppress that nagging voice in the back of his head that screamed for him to just take her in his arms and kiss her

<<You’re welcome, doll; I’m glad you enjoyed the night>>

The blonde beauty giggled again

<<Doll, uh? Your character’s really getting to you>>

<<Don’t you like it?>> He purred with a smirk

<<I must admit I do, a lot. It’s better than munchkin anyway>>

<<Not my fault you are so short; even now you don’t reach my chin, and you’re wearing high heels>>

In response to his teasing, he received a playful whack on the shoulder with her purse

<<You suck>> She snorted.

<<You wish>> He chuckled too, fending off her numerous attempts to hit him again.

Their laughter died after a while, and they stood there in silence, staring into each other’s eyes. Seconds, minutes which seemed hours passed, but they stayed like that.

Suddenly, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

In the blink of an eye, Tess found herself enveloped in Sebastian’s strong arms; before she could ask what was going on, his lips found hers and he kissed her passionately, holding her tight against his body.

The brunette felt like he would burst, both for the affection he had for the woman he was currently kissing and for the shame he felt as he slowly pulled away, forcing his eyes open even if he didn’t want to see the revulsion on her face.

The sight in front of him made his blood run cold: she was petrified, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly agape.

Gulping, Sebastian tried to salvage what he could. Mentally cursing himself in every language he knew, he stuttered an apology

<<Tess, I’m sorry… I- I don’t know what came over me>>

<<…>>

This is it, he groused. This time I’ve done it; I destroyed our friendship. She’ll never want to see me again after this

<<Uh, Tess? Are you ok?>>

The woman was still silent, staring at him like he’d grown a third eye.

I would have preferred a reaction. Shouting, a slap in the face… Anything but this

Broken-hearted, the brown-haired man delicately cupped her cheeks in his hands, taking a steadying breath before speaking

<<Doll, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve had a major crush on you, for years now, and I…

It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I don’t expect anything from you. I just… There’s one thing I want to do>>

The green-eyed woman was still unresponsive, and it only unnerved him further

<<I want to kiss you again. One last time>>

Not bothering to wait for a reply that would probably never come, Sebastian leaned in and pressed his lips against Tess’ red ones in the most delicate, romantic kiss either of them ever had.

It only lasted a moment though: he wasn’t brave enough to push her any further, no matter how much he wanted. Besides, it didn’t feel fair.

With a sigh that promised tears to come, the tall man gave her a sad smile before bidding her goodnight and turning to walk away.

He got as far as the gate before a flurry of black launched herself at him, effectively immobilising him

<<Seb! Don’t go, wait a second. I have something to say>>

He arched an eyebrow, trying to support the painting woman that was wobbling unsteadily on her heels

<<Damn, these things are hell to run in>>

<<I’m not sure they were made with that purpose in mind>> He joked, confused by her behaviour.

The young woman pulled herself together again and grinned at him, taking his face in her hands

<<First of all->>

His eyes grew the size of saucers when her lips found his for the third time that night. He didn’t fight it, both because he never would and he was paralysed at the moment. When she pulled away he saw her huge smile, and it puzzled him even more

<<I wanted to kiss you one last time too>>

Those few words broke him even more than he already was.

His expression must have been a clear sign of that, because the blonde was shaking her head and speaking again

<<One last time as friends. Because I want to kiss you as my boyfriend from now on>>

The world stopped. Sebastian stood there, trying to come to terms with what she told him

One last time as friends. Because I want to kiss you as my boyfriend from now on

Did that mean…

<<D- Doll… D- Does that mean->>

<<Yes, it does>> She hushed him, snickering at his disconcertment <<Now shut up and kiss me again>>

The smile that spread on his face was immense. Finally, the actor went back to his usual, jovial self and pulled her even closer, tenderly tucking a rebellious strand of her luscious mane behind her ear

<<With pleasure>>

Their lips met again.

This time though, it was different. This time they both knew what the other wanted and, most importantly, what the other wanted. This time they knew their love was reciprocated, and it made them smile in the kiss.

When they pulled away they both beamed at each other

<<My girlfriend>>

<<My boyfriend>>

<<I guess it was not the last time>>

<<In a way. But this was the first time>>

<<Mh, I want more; come here>>

They stood there, by the gate, kissing like there was no tomorrow; it was a way to make up for lost time, to soothe the hurt they’d unintentionally caused each other. It didn’t matter who’d waited the longest, who’d been the most oblivious or who made the first move. What did matter was that they were in love, and in love there is no space for last times.

@kitkatd7

[star-doll-universe]

Michelle Goes to Candy Island (Part 2)

Here’s the second part to my little mini series that I’ve been writing based off @one-piece-dumpster-fire​‘s self/insert from her fanfic ‘Crumbling Worlds’ (go read, it good). This part is even longer than Part 1 because I have no self control and there will probably be at least two more parts after this *hides*

Enjoy my nonsense!

Part 1

 As Michelle predicted, the Peter Midnight got them to Candy Island in less than no time at all. She had been to this island only once before and that had been back when she’d been travelling around Tottoland with her parents in search of a new place to live. She remembered it being the largest island she’d visited on her search; in fact, according to the brochure, it was the second largest island in the Tottoland Archipelago behind Whole Cake. This was one of the reasons why Michelle had ultimately turned the island down, despite the rather lavish display the citizens had put on in the hopes of attracting newcomers, as the place was far too crowded and overwhelming for her. Not nearly as quaint and quiet as Biscuit Island, her eventual forever home, turned out to be.

The young woman recalled all of these things as she took in the impressive display that was the domain of Big Mom’s oldest child. The entire island was basically a work of art comprised of hundreds of intricate and brightly colored candy structures courtesy of Perospero’s Lick-Lick Fruit. The city at the island’s center was made up of dozens of gorgeous spire-shaped towers with shiny candy surfaces glittering in the sun in dozens of brilliant colors; the amount of detail placed into all of the buildings was truly remarkable.

Spice had since left Michelle’s side to direct her soul projections, so they could safely steer the ship into the Sweet n’ Sour Port at the edge of Candy Island. The little pumpkin boat gracefully lined up with the largest of the red and white striped docks. One of Spice’s soul projections quickly jumped off and tied the Peter Midnight off with thick ropes of black licorice.

“Alright! Let’s go, easy does it,” the real Spice helped Michelle down the ramp, her soul projections vanishing in puffs of purple smoke as they went. “Is your hip doing better now?’

Michelle nodded, giving her a thankful smile as she stepped away from Spice’s helpful arm and moved to make her way further down the dock. However, only a few steps further, and she suddenly felt an odd cold feeling wash over her body, as though she had just passed into a different area of space that was hovering independent from the rest of the world. Confused, Michelle turned back around to see that Spice was waving frantically at her, her mouth open, but as the other woman looked on, she realized that no words or sounds were coming out.

“Wha-?” Michelle couldn’t even finish the question before her vision suddenly went dark when a pair of gloved hands clapped themselves over her eyes.

“Guess who?!” shouted a voice.

The shriek Michelle made would have deafened a dog. The peals of laughter that soon followed were nearly as loud.

“Hahahaha! Oh God, I got you good, didn’t I?”

Michelle quickly whirled around as the gloved hands were removed from her eyes and found her vision filled with a laughing white and red painted face. A tall, young woman was grinning down at her, her skin was a warm brown but her face was painted a brilliant chalk white with red diamonds cutting through each eye and dots on her cheeks as well as cherry-colored overdrawn lips. Her wavy chin-length hair was light blue and lavender stripes and was tucked beneath a white and red swirled beret. She was also wearing a red and white striped blouse with wine-colored pants and suspenders. The other woman’s eyes sparkled, as red as her outfit, as she lifted a finger to her lips, still grinning through her elaborate makeup.

It was at that moment Michelle realized that she couldn’t hear anything, the entire island seemed to have gone deathly silent; she couldn’t even hear the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

“Charlotte Peppermint!” Spice’s voice ripped through the strange spell of silence, and Michelle glance up to see her hovering over their heads, her hands on her hips. “Why would you do something so rude to Michelle? She’s a guest on your island and a future family member!”

The woman called Peppermint snorted. “Oh, come on, Auntie Spice! I’d bet my hat you did the exact same thing when you first met her.”

Spice looked miffed at this remark, her face going as red as Peppermint’s lipstick at the fact that her assertion was indeed true. “Well, I mean…That’s all the more reason for you not to do it! She’s already had one scare today!” With a huff, Spice zipped past both Michelle, who was still trying to recover, and the other woman called Peppermint, who was apparently Spice’s niece.

“And would you turn the sound back on, please?!” Spice called back, clearly a little irritated.

Peppermint rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She then snapped her fingers, and just like that, the island came to life again as all its sounds abruptly returned. Michelle’s ears were once again filled with the crashing of the sea on the shore, the bustling of the people moving about the streets: shouting, laughing, crying and cheering all throughout the capitol of Lollipop City.

Michelle looked back at Peppermint, who was wiggling her fingers at her with a knowing smile. “Pretty cool, huh? It’s called the Calm-Calm Fruit.”

The other woman looked at her, blinking rather rapidly. “Y-Yeah, it is.”

“I guess I should introduce myself properly: Charlotte Peppermint, Executive of the Big Mom Pirates, Assistant Minister of Candy and the oldest child of Charlotte Perospero and Winter.” She then held out a red and white glove for Michelle to shake.

She did. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh! Candy Cane, I was wondering where you got to!” Spice was heard talking to someone else further up the dock.

Michelle turned their way to see Spice speaking to a tall, thin man wearing a mint green waist coat with large red and white striped buttons. He had tanned skin and wavy blue hair that was tied in a low ponytail and swept over one shoulder. The man also had the same ruby red eyes as Peppermint.

“Hey bro! You’re late” Peppermint called to the young man, rushing over to where he and Spice were talking on the dock. Michelle had to quietly hobble after her. Why did everyone in this family move so fast?!

The young man that Spice had addressed as Candy Cane glanced their way as Peppermint ran up to him. “I’m only late, Pep, because you were in too much of a hurry to get down here and knocked over that cotton candy vendor’s cart.” He growled in irritation as he picked pieces of pink floss out of his hair.

Peppermint snorted, barely stifling a laugh behind her hand. “Sorry about that.” She then turned to Michelle. “Michelle, I’d like you to meet my younger twin brother Candy Cane. He’s also an Executive of the Big Mom Pirates and he’s the Assistant Minister of Marshmallow.”

“Call me CC,” Candy Cane added, stretching out his gloved hand to Michelle, “You must be Uncle Cracker’s fiancée. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It really is!” Peppermint added enthusiastically, “We were so thrilled to hear that Uncle Cracker was getting married! And you seem like a sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll keep him at bay though.” She added with a wink, which made Michelle blush.

Spice suddenly clapped her hands. “Alright troops! Time to move out; we don’t want to keep your mother and aunts waiting!”

With that, Peppermint and CC lead Spice and Michelle off the docks of the Sweet n’ Sour Port and into the epicenter of Lollipop City. While they walked, the twins talked enthusiastically about Cracker as they both seemed to share a great admiration for him. Michelle eventually learned that this was because he had trained both of them in swordsmanship when they were younger, and they even showed her the blades they each kept at their hip. Peppermint’s was called Uzumaki and CC’s was called Kasane, and they were both Meito ranked swords like Cracker’s Pretzel.

All the while, Spice floated in the air ahead of them, talking on occasion with a several passersby, all of whom were very impressed and flattered to be in the presence of one of Big Mom’s infamous Sweet Commanders.

Eventually, Michelle’s attention was pulled away from the twins and returned to the impressive architecture of Candy Island’s capitol. The further into the city they went, the more elaborate and beautiful the buildings seemed to get.

“This place is so gorgeous,” Michelle whispered, slightly breathless.

“Yeah, our dad’s one of the best Devil Fruit user’s in Tottoland,” CC agreed, smiling proudly. “He can make just about anything with his Lick-Lick Fruit’s powers.”

As Michelle looked at him, she could definitely see something of Perospero in his eye shape and countenance, although it was abundantly clear that both he and his sister had inherited the majority of their traits from their mother. She was a Farfallen, as Spice had mentioned, and while Michelle knew little about the rather elusive ethnic group, she did recognize the dark skin, curly hair and brilliant red eyes as telltale signs of the twin’s mixed heritage.

“Wait until you see the castle he built for our mother though!” Peppermint interjected, jerking Michelle from her thoughts, “It’s magnificent!”

No sooner had she said this, that the little group rounded the corner into the central square of Lollipop City’s downtown district, and Michelle’s breath really was taken away as she gazed upon the massive structure at the very center of the island. The palace was constructed entirely of a smooth crystalline rock candy in a beautiful ice blue that glistened in the sun like diamonds. Its spires reached up to the heavens, dwarfing every other building around it, and every inch, every detail was painstakingly crafted, woven all together into a truly stunning display.

“Wow!” Michelle looked on in awe.

“I know right!” Spice exclaimed, “I always love coming here; it’s like my second home.” She added wistfully, the same nostalgic expression on her face as the one Michelle probably wore when they were riding on the boat.

“Wait until you see the inside,” Peppermint added, taking Michelle’s hand and pulling her along up the steps and towards the massive front doors. The air was instantly filled with a crisp, minty scent, sharp like the winter air after a fresh snow.

Over their heads, Spice phased through the towering double doors and then opened them from the inside for the other three. They swung inwards to reveal a sprawling high-ceilinged entryway accented by a glittering crystal white chandelier that illuminated a sprawling spiral staircase that twisted up towards the high ceiling.

“Hey, you guys!” an accusatory voice interupted Michelle from admiring the impressive entryway. She glanced up in time to see a girl in her early teens sliding down the bannister at an almost dizzying pace. “Why did you leave without me?! I wanted to go to the docks too!” The young girl continued as she gracefully landed on her feet at the bottom of the stairs. She looked to be around thirteen or fourteen with the same warm brown skin as Peppermint and CC, but her eyes were deep chocolate color that Michelle recognized to be identical to Perospero’s. She also had thick dark brown curls that cascaded all around her shoulders and fell past her waist. It accented the white lacey dress she was wearing with a large red satin bow tied around her waist. However, her most bizarre accessory, was a holly wreath resting in her hair that had four lit candles nestled amongst the berries and leaves; they gave off a pleasant yet striking glow.

It somewhat reminded Michelle of the strange sparking accessories Cracker would often wear in his hair.

“Hi there,” she said to the girl, who was still fixing Peppermint and CC with an accusatory glare.

“We’re sorry, Yuley,” CC was saying to her, “But you were taking too long in the kitchen.”

“Ooh were you making chocolates?!” Spice floated down closer to the girl, hovering a few inches above the candles on her head. “You’ll have to let me try some.”

The young girl glance up, and her face instantly broke into a wide smile, her previous anger instantly evaporating. “Sure! I’d love to, Auntie Spice!”

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to Michelle?” CC added pointedly. “She said hi to you already.”

“Huh? Oh hi.” The younger girl waved at Michelle. “I’m Charlotte Yule. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yule.” Michelle smiled warmly, “You’re Peppermint and CC’s little sister, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And I heard you say you made some chocolates? I would love to try some.”

Yule’s expression brightened at this. “Really?! That would be awesome!” She then held out her red gloved hands and instantly a pool of rich brown chocolate appeared in her cupped palms. Before Michelle’s eyes, it hardened into a sphere the size of a golf ball. “I’ve been working on it for a very long time and it’s almost perfect,” Yule explained. “Ever since I first ate the Choc-Choc and became a Chocolate Human.”

“Oh, I see! So, it’s a Devil Fruit?” Michelle was always amazed at how many members of the Charlotte Family had Devil Fruit abilities, but she supposed it made sense given the power and influence of its matriarch.

A Spice soul projection suddenly swooped down like a hawk and snatched the ball of chocolate out of Yule’s hands. It then tossed it to the real Spice, who quickly caught it and gulped it down in one bite. “Oh wow! That’s so yummy, Yuley. You really are getting good at this.”

“Hey! Auntie Spice, that one was for Michelle!”

“Oh well, you snooze you lose,” Spice replied with a wink.

“What’s all the yelling about?” called a voice from the top of the stairs.

Michelle glance up just as a middle-aged woman draped in a snow leopard fur coat appeared above them. She momentarily wondered if this was the children’s mother as she had the same deep skin tone and the ruby red eyes of a Farfallen. They were paired with sapphire blue boxed braids that were pulled into a high ponytail. She also had a rather severe expression as she eyed Michelle momentarily before turning her gaze to Spice, who was zipping around in the air while Yule continued to yell up at her.

“You’re rather late, Spice. I take it it’s because you were fooling around.”

“Oh, come on! Life’s too short not to be fooling around a little now and then!” Spice replied before finally landing on the stairs beside the blue-haired woman. “Good to see you, North. It’s been a while.”

Oh, so this isn’t the kid’s mom. Spice said her name was Winter, Michelle thought. She said North was one of her sisters.

“Come on, kids.” North addressed the children, “Upstairs, chop chop!”

“Yes, Auntie!” Peppermint, CC and Yule all immediately complied, scampering up the stairs and almost leaving Michelle behind.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Spice floated back over to her, “Sorry but the Candy Palace has a lot of stairs. I should tell Brother Peros to make a candy escalator.” With that, she gently gripped Michelle around the waist and lifted her off the ground, carrying her through the air at a much slower pace than the first time, floating after the kids and their aunt as they made their way to the top of the massive staircase.

As Spice and Michelle followed them, a sudden chill washed over Michelle that was intense enough to send a shiver down her spine. She gripped Spice tighter, suddenly envious of her large sweater as her teeth began to chatter. The air had grown raw with a bitter cold so unbecoming of a summer climate like Candy Island.

“W-What’s going on?!” Michelle stammered, “Is the air conditioner broken?”

“Nah, it’s always like this,” Peppermint explained, and Michelle then noticed she and her siblings were all pulling on heavy coats from a nearby closet. Of course, hers and CC’s were both red and white striped while Yule’s was chocolate brown. “Our mom likes it this way.”

“It reminds us of home,” North added, her heavy leopard print cloak suddenly making a lot more sense.

As soon as Spice set Michelle down, she quickly thrown on her own coat that she’d brought along, immediately grateful for the warmth it provided.

“So, I take it you’re from a Winter Island then?” she added to North.

“No, we’re actually from a Spring island,” she sarcastically replied with a snort, a puff of warm air spouting from her nose like smoke from a dragon.

Spice snickered, nuzzling her neck into the collar of her orange coat with pumpkin-shaped buttons. “North and her sisters are from Hot Coco Island. It’s the largest Farfallen settlement in Tottoland.”

“It used to have a different name,” North muttered as she led the group down the hall and to a large set of double doors, which were coated in pale blue crystalline candy. However, the face on the door had a very red nose and sneezed loudly as the door approached.

“Open up, we’ve got guests,” North addressed the door Homie sharply.

“S-Sorry,” the door sniffed thickly as it swung open. “I’ve gotta cold.”

Michelle quickly followed Spice, North and their nieces and nephew through the doorway to find it led into an elaborate and elegant sitting room. The entire space was draped in thick white furs including all of the sofas, tables and chairs. There was a large polar bear rug next to the hearth which was snoring almost as loud as the crackling of the blue flames roaring in the fireplace. Above this was a massive candy chandelier hanging in the middle of the arched ceiling that resembled a cluster of icicles. The round table in the center of the room was laden with dozens of different treats and sweet as well as variety of both hot and cold drinks. Tiny snowball Homies were hopping around the frost-covered tablecloth on spindly little legs, arranging everything into its proper place.

Across the room, a woman sat at the opposite end of the large table in a grand high-backed chair. She was quite tall, even taller than North who looked to be nearly seven feet, and she was also incredibly beautiful. There was an air of maturity and grace to her posture despite the fact that her dark skin still looked bright and youthful. It matched her full, curly hair, which was a rich dark brown, like burnt wood, that lay elegantly swept over her right shoulder. It framed a rather curious half face mask that seemed to be made of pieces of crystalized ice which stretched over her right eye. The left was more visible, but both were a deep blood red color, accented by elaborate white and blue makeup as well as glossy shimmer across her cheeks and brow that looked almost like frost. Her lips were blue as if from cold but was in fact a shade of ice blue lipstick with the same white shimmer on top. Her dress was as blue as her lips and the candy of the palace, covered in what seemed like hundreds of rhinestones which were strategically placed to cover her body across the translucent fabric. Over the gown, the woman wore a massive fur coat that was so white it seemed to glow. It swept all around her body, wrapping around the chair like the train of a wedding gown. Its alabaster shade matched the shinning white makeup and the dusting of white powder in her hair, which quickly lead Michelle to realize that it was in fact snowing in the room. Soft drifts were collecting on the polished floor as snowflakes drifted lazily through the air.

As the group entered, the woman stood up to her full height which seemed to be a little over eight feet. Her three children quickly crossed the room towards her. Michelle watched, still somewhat transfixed, as each of the kids pull off one of their respective gloves and the woman did the same with one of her own white pair. Each child then placed their hands against the woman’s own palm to palm as a kind of greeting. Her smile was enough to warm the whole room as she looked down at each of them; although, she did not speak.

Once this was down, Peppermint and CC moved to sit in chairs on either side of her while Yule walked across the room towards the fire where two young boys were roasting marshmallows in the azure flames, giggling to each other.

The woman, who Michelle knew for certain was Charlotte Winter, then turned her attention to Michelle. Her expression was cold, yet not unkind, perhaps just difficult to read. The young woman silently wondered why she hadn’t said anything to her and tried to fight back some building discomfort.

Winter then looked to North and beckoned her sister over, who quickly moved to stand beside her. “Michelle, come on,” she called after her.

The addressed stiffened in spite of herself. Spice floated down beside her and took her arm. “Come on. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Michelle swallowed anyways. “Yeah…I know.” She then let Spice lead her over to the two sisters, standing side by side. As they approached, Winter leaned over and whispered something in North’s ear.

“My sister says she likes your dress,” North then said, which gave Michelle pause.

“Oh! T-Thank you,” she quickly stammered, instinctually fisting a handful of the purple fabric of her skirt. The dress in question had been a present from Cracker.

Winter then smiled at Michelle and held up her still ungloved hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Michelle reached up and pressed her own palm against hers.

As soon as she did so, a feeling of sudden warmth seemed to spread from the place where their skin was touching. It moved throughout Michelle’s body: going up her arm, unfolding in her chest and spreading down to the tips of her toes and the top of her head. She inhaled sharply, startled but no longer afraid. In fact, this curious warm sensation brought with it a sense of comfort, of safety. She felt welcome.

“Thank you…” Michelle whispered breathlessly.

Winter nodded, her smile now as warm as the glint in her partially concealed eyes.

At that moment, a side door to the room opened, breaking the spell between Winter and Michelle. Two more women strode into the room. The first one was well over nine feet tall. She was wearing a full-length black gown, her bare arms were covered only by elbow high black gloves, and she had a dark fur cloak draped over her shoulders. Her skin was slightly lighter than Winter and North’s as was her hair, which was sky blue and incredibly curly. In the center of her brow was a silver ornament in the shape of a sun. However, what immediately drew Michelle’s attention was the baby boy she was holding in her arms. He was wrapped in a nest of white furs, dozing lightly. His skin was dark and a bit ruddy from sleep, his scarlet eyes droopy and his blue and purple hair a bit messy, falling out of what seemed to be a naturally pointed shape.

“Look who just woke up,” the tall woman remarked, cradling the baby tenderly in her large muscular arms, a pure white sword with a fur guard hung from her hip.

Michelle’s grip tightened on Spice’s arm. “You didn’t tell me there was going to be a baby,” she whispered frantically.

Spice gave her an odd look. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not! I love babies!”

Winter and North looked her way, the former then whispered once more in the latter’s ear.

“My sister says you can hold him if you want,” North then added.

“So, this must be Cracker’s fiancée,” the woman with the baby remarked, striding over to them. “Michelle, right?”

“Oh! This is Michelle?!” the second woman than rushed past the first. She hardly seemed bothered by the cold and the snow as her arms were bare as well save high dark gloves. Her gown was made of a graham cracker bodice with a waterfall of chocolate fabric draped over her shoulder and swirling around her waist in a full skirt. As she ran up to Michelle, her energetic gate was framed by dark bushy hair not unlike a lion’s mane, her crimson eyes bright and cheerful. Michelle could also see that her white earrings and necklace were actually tiny marshmallows. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Charlotte Samore, Oven’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Michelle replied with a polite nod of her head. Samore’s smiled widened, squeezing her hands slightly in her own.

“And I’m Crystal,” added the woman with the baby. “I’m the middle triplet of these two,” she added, gesturing to Winter and North.

“You guys are triplets?” Michelle was surprised.

“Yep. Winter’s the oldest, and I’m the youngest,” North replied.

“Kinda cool, huh?” Spice added, “Multiples even marry into the Charlotte Family!”

“In our culture, having three children at once is considered good luck,” Crystal added, settling down on the couch beside Winter’s chair. “Now did you want to hold Chestnut?”

“Yes please!” Michelle quickly dropped down on the couch beside the older woman, instantly feeling dwarfed beside her massive stature. Crystal gently passed her the baby, Chestnut she had called him, and Michelle eagerly took him into her arms.

The sleepy baby looked up at her, his eyes lighting up as he grew more awake, gazing up at her. Michelle smiled down at him. “Hi, little man. I’m Michelle. I’m gonna be your new auntie.”

At her words, the baby raised one of his chubby fists, gurgling through one of those lopsided grins babies do. Michelle reached out and let the baby grab on of her fingers with his tiny hands, noticing that even he was wearing little blue gloves. Her heart melted despite the chill of the room.

“Auntie Michelle?! I wanna meet Auntie Michelle!” two voices cried in unison, causing the young woman to look up. She had nearly forgotten about the two little boys roasting marshmallows by the fireplace with Yule. At once, they both jumped up and raced over to where Michelle was sitting on the couch with Chestnut and Crystal.

She could now see that the two boys were nearly identical. They both had the same tanned skin, red eyes and curly blue purple hair, although the latter was parted on opposite sides. They were both dressed in neat little brown jackets with matching bowler hats. One boy had on green trousers with brown squares on it and a matching bowtie while the other had red trousers with brown polka dots and a matching bowtie.

“I’m Charlotte Fudge!” announced the boy with the squared bowtie.

“I’m Charlotte Truffle!” added the boy with spotted bowtie.

“It’s nice to meet you, Auntie Michelle!” they added at the same time, bowing in unison.

“It’s very nice to meet you too,” Michelle replied, nodding her head in acknowledgement while Chestnut giggled on her lap. “And how old are you boys?’

“Ten!” they replied together, holding up both their hands for emphasis.

“My hair grows clockwise; can you see it?” Fudge added, spinning clockwise as he spoke.

“My hair grows counter-clockwise, can you tell?” Truffle added, spinning in the opposite direction.

Their antics were suddenly interupted by a tiny voice clearing its throat. Everyone turned to see one of the snowball Homies that had been setting up for the tea party was standing at attention at the head of the table. “Ladies, gentleman, your afternoon tea is served!”

“Yay!” Truffle and Fudge cheered as they quickly raced to their seats, eagerly grabbing at whatever treats they could reach.

“Manners boys!” North scolded. “Peppermint, pass the whiskey.”

Michelle quickly learned that “tea’ was a bit of a lose term as several types of booze were quickly passed around the table, including wine, rum, and whiskey. Fudge and Truffle drank rich homemade hot chocolate and Yule ended up being the only one that actually had tea, while aside from Michelle as she was not usually one for day drinking. North and Samore meanwhile threw black glasses of whiskey and scotch like it was nothing, Spice guzzled heavy spiked cider while Crystal nursed a cup of rum and Winter sipped a glass of wine. The whole group quickly indulged in all of the candies and sweets available, including Yule’s chocolates, and after a while, North and Winter both lit cigarettes and the whole table started a round of cards.

Michelle supposed she should expect this; after all, nearly all of them were pirates. Even fourteen-year-old Yule was an apprentice in the Big Mom crew.

At first, Michelle mostly talked with Crystal, and through her, she learned a bit more about the Farfallen tribe she and her sisters came from. The technical name of their clan was the Tallay Tribe, and their Winter Island home was originally called Boreas Island. Two and a half decades ago, Big Mom had absorbed their homeland into Tottoland through an arranged marriage between her eldest son Perospero and the previous ruler of Boreas Island King Frost’s eldest daughter Winter.

“Boreas Island was eventually renamed Hot Coco Island,” Crystal explained, “That’s our main export, and for the time being, I’m acting as Minister of Marshmallow while Candy Cane is my apprentice. While it’s a position in the Tottoland government, its also a replacement position for the monarchy of our tribe. Winter is rightfully the ruler of our people, but she had to leave our island to live with her husband, so I’m acting on her behalf.”

Michelle found all of this rather interesting. She also learned that Crystal was a swordswoman like her niece and nephew and the sword at her side was called Yeti. It was also a Meito-ranked blade.

Crystal eventually moved to sit beside North, so she could participate in the card game, and Winter took her spot on the couch beside Michelle, seemingly not interested in playing. She continued to sip her drink, taking the occasional drag of her cigarette while watching her children and sisters as well as her in-law Samore, all the while not saying a word out loud.

For her part, Michelle remained on the couch beside Winter, sipping her tea and cuddling Chestnut who had fallen back asleep in his bundle of furs on her lap. She was rather overwhelmed, everyone around her had rather large, bombastic personalities as they all gossipped and scrambled around the table, talking over one another and eating off one another’s plates, even fighting over food in the twins’ cases. They Farfallen would also occasionally slip in and out of a language that Michelle couldn’t understand. Fudge and Truffle both seemed a bit lost with it as well; they eventually grew bored of cards and quickly found a new game of chasing the snowball Homies around the room.

“So, Spice, any update on my situation?” North was saying to the Sweet Commander.

Spice pursed her lips. “I’m afraid not. Mama’s been sitting on this issue for a while now, and she’s not giving us a whole lot of insight into her plans.”

“I’m afraid, I’m not up to date with this matter,” Samore interjected. “Are you referring to that issue involving Kaido?”

Michelle choked on the sugar cookie she’d been munching on, nearly hacking up a lung and unfortunately waking up Chestnut, who started to cry. Winter eventually took him back, waving off Michelle’s apology, the young woman’s face was red both from nearly choking and embarrassment. She glanced at the other women, who had turned their attention towards the slight commotion.

“I’m sorry, but did you say Kaido?! As in the Emperor of the Sea?!”

“Are there any others?” North replied, throwing her hand of cards down on the table with an agitated snarl, “A few months ago, I came across a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, and Kaido wants it, or more specifically, he wants me.”

Michelle was aghast.

“And we know he’s serious about it,” Peppermint added, “He even offered Grandma’s weight in oshiruko soup.”

“Yeah, but Mama would only agree to an arrangement if Kaido traded North for King.” Spice added.

North snorted, “As if that would ever happen. I’m not worth losing his Vice-Captain.”

“Big Mom has some nerve suggesting such a thing,” Samore agreed.

“At this point, we should just have a Davy Back Fight,” Peppermint piped up, dealing everyone else cards.

Crystal gave her niece a horrified look. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Yeah that would go tits up real fucking fast,” North mused, “I mean we barely held it together for the wedding.”

“Any interactions with the Beast Pirates tend to sour very quickly,” CC remarked, “Even just with low level grunts coming into Tottoland. I think they’re called ‘Pleasures’ or something, but a fight nearly always breaks out.”

“Having even one of the Calamities in conflict with our crew would be ten times worse,” Crystal agreed.

“Let alone Kaido and his bitch of a wife,” North added.

“I dunno, when we met her at the wedding, I thought she was kinda cool,” Peppermint asserted, shuffling the cards between her hands.

“You would think that, Pep,” her twin replied, rolling his eyes.

North scowled. “She had a very high opinion of herself.”

“I’m honestly surprised Big Mom hasn’t just tried to buy King from Kaido,” Samore mused, “I mean, it’s how she got me from that Celestial Dragon.”

Michelle was reeling. This whole conversation was just too much. She decided to just focus on sipping her now cold tea while Winter rocked Chestnut gently beside her. At one point, the two women’s eyes met, and Winter winked at her behind her mask.

The party went on for a long time. Spice got rather drunk after a while and entertained the children with stories from her duties as a Sweet Commander, including one of a battle between her forces and a member of the Worst Generation, Eustass “Captain” Kid and his crew.

“And then I launched him overboard!” she exclaimed, snorting into her drink, her face as red as the Farfallen’s eyes. “Right into the grape juice sea! His bucket-headed Vice-Captain had to jump in after him.”

“I did hear a rumor you admitted to thinking he was cute after he flirted with you though,” Peppermint chimed in. “He called you ‘sugar tits’ or something and made you blush.”

Spice growled, pointing a finger at her niece. “Watch it, Charlotte Peppermint, or I’ll revoke your pumpkin pie privileges.”

Michelle had to laugh at that, wondering if that was even a thing Spice could do. Well, there were stranger rules in Tottoland, she supposed.

All of the talking, drinking, laughing and eating carried on for so long, the tall, narrow windows lining the perimeter of the parlor began to cast longer and longer shadows across the icy floor.

Chestnut had finished napping and Michelle was now helping his mother feed him his bottle. Truffle and Fudge had seemingly made peace with the snowball Homies and were now racing them across the hearth by the light of its dying blue embers.

The gathering was so lively that everyone was a little taken aback when the doors suddenly burst open.

Michelle glance up in time to see Charlotte Perospero, the eldest child of Big Mom, stride into the room. Behind him, was Charlotte Katakuri, another of the Sweet Commanders.

“Father!” Fudge and Truffle instantly abandoned their game with the snowball Homies and rushed to Perospero’s side as he approached the table.

“Good evening, my boys! How are you?” Perospero exclaimed as Truffle and Fudge each grabbed a fistful of his long yellow coat, both babbling in unison about their hair, the snowball Homies and different types of candy. Eventually, Katakuri pulled them off their dad by the scruff of their necks, and they eventually ended up on his shoulders.

“Hiya Katakuri!” Spice zipped up into the air, hovering over him, “What brings you here? Did you finally decide to try out having some fun?” She giggled rather loudly at her own joke. After eating her weight in pumpkin cookies and cinnamon bread, she’d sobered up some but was still energetic and somewhat tipsy.

Katakuri gave his baby sister a cold look. “Spice, don’t you have important work to take care of for our mother?”

Spice scoffed, crossing her arms. “That stuff is not nearly as important as quality family time.”

“Hello, Katakuri.” Crystal called to him before the disagreement could progress any further, “How’s your wife doing?”

“Are you letting her leave the house?” North added, resulting in her sister smacking her upside the back of the head. “Ow!”

Meanwhile, Perospero had moved from talking with his older children and made his way over to Winter. “How are you doing, my love?” he asked, kneeling down so he was eye level with her and their son. He then leaned and whispered something in her ear. Winter’s smile was brighter than the sun pendent on Crystal’s brow as she then whispered something in her husband’s ear in response. Perospero chuckled, reaching out to stroke their son’s head, resting on his mother’s lap between them. Michelle noted that she had never seen Big Mom’s fearsome eldest child look so soft before. She wondered if that was the way Cracker looked to other people when he was around her.

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Samore announced, getting up from the table. “Oven will want me home for dinner.”

“I can give you a lift, if you want,” Spice called to her from where she was lazily turning loop de loops in midair.

Samore raised an eyebrow at her. “Will you be okay to drive the Peter Midnight?”

“Of course, I am! I gotta take Michelle home anyways!”

“I’ll take you back.” Katakuri interjected, setting Truffle and Fudge down as he spoke, making both boys whine in disappointment.

“That’s not necessary, Big Brother. We’re going in the complete opposite direction from you, and you don’t wanna keep Sakura waiting-”

“I think it would be best if I accompany you and the other women home.”

“Katakuri, I’m not a kid anymore, you don’t have to-”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Spice. It’s decided.” Katakuri’s voice had nearly reached a snarl as he stared his sister down. There was also a sudden surge of something vibrant and almost static in the air between the two siblings, a twinge of menace hanging on the edge of the atmosphere they created. After a tense pause, Spice opened her mouth about halfway, seemingly going to argue with her older brother further but thought better of it a second later and snapped it shut.

“I appreciate it, Katakuri,” Samore gave him a warm smile, defusing the situation.

“Yeah whatever. Come on, Michelle, let’s get going.” Spice called to her, floating towards the door.

“Okay,” Michelle quickly got up from the couch, more than a little intimidated by Katakuri as she had been when she’d first met him.

Perospero looked her way as she did, giving her a sly grin from behind his large tongue. “Hello again, Michelle. It’s good to see you. I trust my brother is treating you well.”

“Very much so. Thank you, sir.” Michelle replied, instinctively smoothing down the skirt of her dress poking out of the bottom of her heavy coat.

“Let me know if you ever need anything, my dear,” Perospero added, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Winter then leaned into her husband and whispered something in his ear.

“My wife says you are welcome to visit us any time you’d like.”

“Yeah please come back, Michelle!” Peppermint chimed in.

“Bring Uncle Cracker next time too,” CC added. “He needs to visit us again.”

“Come back and play with us, Auntie Michelle,” Truffle and Fudge added.

“I’ll be doing an apprenticeship with my Aunt Pudding on Cacao Island,” Yule added, “You should swing by some time for more chocolate.”

“Ok, I will.” Michelle agreed with a smile. “Thank you all for a lovely afternoon.” She then leaned in and tickled Chestnut’s chin, causing the baby to laugh. “Goodbye, little man.”

“Come on, Michelle! We should leave before it gets too dark!” Spice called to her.

“Coming!” Michelle made her way across the room as quick as she could, following after Spice, Samore and Katakuri. “Goodbye, everyone! Thanks again!”

“Goodbye, Michelle!” North called after her.

“Take care!” Crystal added with a wave.

Michelle waved back as she passed through the double doors, they closed after her with a rather loud sneeze.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Katakuri for taking us home,” Michelle addressed the eldest Sweet Commander.

“Don’t thank him yet,” Spice interjected before her brother could respond, “The Peter Midnight will be very grumpy to have someone else driving it.”

“That boat of yours listens to me, Spice. Now stop pouting, it’s unbecoming of you,” Katakuri scolded.

“I’ll show you what’s unbecoming of-”

“Spice!”

“Fine, fine.” Spice then stifled a yawn. “I guess I am a bit too tired to drive anyways.”

Samore laughed at the siblings bickering before falling into step beside Michelle. “You should come visit me and my husband on Yakigashi Island some time. My kids would love to meet you.”

Michelle smiled at her. “That sounds great. I’d loved to.”

“Hey Katakuri, North was kidding about you letting your wife leave the house, right?”

“Sakura is perfectly free to do whatever she likes, Spice.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Spice, can I ask you something?” Michelle approached the other woman, who was dozing on top of the Peter Midnight’s figurehead with her hands behind her head. They had recently dropped off Samore on her home island and now the little boat just consisted of the two young woman and Katakuri at the helm. Even though the boat wasn’t moving nearly as fast without Spice driving it, they were still making pretty decent progress, even with the steadily creeping darkness of night.

“Yeah? What’s up, Michelle?” Spice cracked an eye open at her.

“Can I-Can I ask why Winter never spoke to me directly? She was always whispering in her sister’s or husband’s ear.”

Spice sighed, sitting up and lowering her arms. “I told you before we arrived at the island that it wasn’t anything you did. Winter is that way with anyone she doesn’t know very well. She has trouble speaking to people she doesn’t trust completely, so anyone outside of her immediate family for the most part.”

Michelle’s eyes widened. “Why is that?”

Spice shrugged. “We’re not really sure. Perospero told me that Winter suffered a lot of trauma when her mother died suddenly several years ago. She saw the whole thing happen, and she never forgot it. She’s been that way ever since.”

Michelle looked down at her shoes, swallowing thickly. “I see. I feel bad for her; she’s so kind.”

She looked back up to see Spice staring off at the sea, her smile wistful. “She is. Winter and Perospero helped me a lot when I was a kid, and hey, even if she can’t communicate normally, she can still convey her feelings to those she loves most in the world.” Spice then held up her hand to indicate what she meant.

Michelle looked down at her own palm, remembering when Winter had pressed her hand against it and the warm feeling that had washed over her as a result.

She smiled, “Yeah. You’re right.”

 To Be Continued in “Michelle Goes to Komugi Island”

[cipherstarker]

Day 1: Candy and Sweets (October 20th (Yes I’m late, shush)) 

Warnings: Mentions of blood, murder and suicide.

“So,” Morticia said, adjusting her hold on Wednesday so she faced Tony, “What is troubling you?”

Tony shrugged, avoiding his dear cousin’s eyes and landing on her perfectly manicured red nails. He reached forward and tugged Wednesday out of her grip and into his welcoming arms. Immediately, the baby girl’s chubby pale arms went up to grab on his goatee and Tony hid his smile. “Just stressed,” he finally replied, his mind going to Pepper’s face after he announced to the whole world that he was Iron Man, “that’s all.”

Morticia just hummed lightly and Tony avoided her disbelieving gaze by leaning forward to give Wednesday some eskimo kisses. It didn’t save him for long, as his cousin leaned towards him, gently pushing a loose lock of hair behind his ear before her fingers moved under his chin to apply a light pressure until he faced her. “Nothing at all to do with the press conference earlier this evening?”

At that moment his phone chirped and Tony smiled apologetically at Morticia, “Duty calls.” With that he stood, passing Wednesday back to her but a hand quickly came out to wrap around his wrist. 

“Come for dinner tomorrow. I’ll ask Grandmama to cook your favourite.”

“Okay, ‘ticia. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down and give a gentle kiss to her cheek before following Lurch to the front door.

-----

Once outside, Tony breathed in the fresh air before looking down at his phone - which was louding playing ‘Iron Man’ (Yes, Jarvis was hilarious) - with a glare before answering it with a sigh. “Yes, Pep? I thought you cleared my schedule?”

“There’s a guy called Spiderman in your penthouse.”

“What?” Tony couldn’t mask his surprise. Who was Spiderman? How the hell did he get in?” “I’ll be there in a sec.”

Tony walked into the penthouse with his usual swagger, his hands in his trouser pockets and his suit jacket unbuttoned. “Well well well, seems with have a spider problem.” He said with a smirk as he spotted a man in a red onesie splayed on his couch like he owned it.

“Mr Stark.” The man replied with a nod.

“So, what can I do for you, little spider?” Tony walked over to the black bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and held up the bottle to the other man who declined with a shake of his head. “Your loss,” he muttered to himself.

“I’m here because you just announced yourself to be a superhero on TV.”

Tony proudly smirked, “Ah, you saw that?”

“I did,” he didn’t sound impressed, “You just brought me into the limelight with you,” he stood up and started to slowly walk over to Tony, his arms crossed over his chest, “and that’s somewhere I don’t want to be.”

“Right,” Tony signalled to Jarvis to prepare the suit, anticipating the fight to come, “and why, exactly, do you want to stay out of the limelight?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Jarvis,” Tony prompted.

“Yes, Sir. Spiderman, otherwise known as Peter Parker, is 20 years old working at a cafe called May’s Sweet Treats. Family includes said May Parker and close friends are Ned and Michelle who likes to be known as MJ.” Jarvis shows a picture of a boy, with curly brown hair and big bambi eyes and shit, Tony wants. “I can also link Mr Parker to several murders in New York.” Double shit. He thinks he might be in love.

The man - Peter - rips of his mask, his eyes alight with flames and his hair a porcupine mess. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” He started to quickly advance on Tony, his hands clenched tightly shut and his pretty face curled into a snarl. He pushed Tony against the granite counters, his hands holding onto his suit jacket as he lifted him, his feet dangling uselessly. “I should kill you right this instant.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony mocked as he pushed the knife he had grabbed against Peter’s neck, “You may be younger, but I have experience.” Peter’s adam’s apple bopped, leaving a tiny cut where the knife had pressed against it, his eyes were now wide with astonishment and want. Tony removed the knife to bring it to his mouth, licking up the slight trace if blood on it.

“Fuck,” Peter whispered, breathlessly. Tony just smirked. “Where have you been all my life Tony Stark.” In response, Tony brought his legs up to wrap around lean hips.

“Waiting for someone just like you, ‘ticia always did say it would come when I least expected it.”

“‘ticia?” Peter questioned, unable to hide the jealousy in his voice.

“My cousin, Morticia. She married the love of her life, Gomez, a couple of years back. They met a funeral, how romantic is that? Morticia couldn’t stop staring at him. Actually, I think Gomez is still a suspect. Family is very important to the Stark’s and Addams’.”

Suddenly, Peter was kissing him and Tony let out an obscene sounding moan, arching his back and bringing up his free hand to grab at Peter’s hair. He pulled himself back, gasping for breath and the taste of copper in his mouth from where Peter had bit his lip to hard.

“Come for dinner tomorrow.” Peter demanded.

“Can’t,” he leaned forward to brush his tongue against red lips, Peter’s mouth automatically parting for another kiss before leaning backwards again. “You can, however, join us for a family dinner.”

“Of course, what time?”

“8.”

Peter went to put him down so he tightly clinged on. “I didn’t say you had to go just yet though. I’m sure we can think of something to do?” Tony winked.

------

The next day, Tony and Peter were stood outside the door waiting, Peter tugging at the suit that he had borrowed from Tony. “You look good, Bambi,” Tony reassured as the door was opened by Lurch. Immediately, Tony was swooped up in a hug by Gomez.

“It has been much to long, Tony!”

“You saw me yesterday, Gomez.”

“Yes, it has been too long!” Then Gomez spotted Peter. “And who is this dashing, young thing?” He let go of Tony to sweep up Peter.

“Gomez this is Peter, Peter this is Gomez. Peter is responsible for them murders with the spider bites, Gomez.”

“Ah, marvellous. I love your work! Especially the one that was hanged from the building, just beautiful!”

Gomez then ushered them inside, leading them to the kitchen where Grandmama and Morticia were waiting. Tony almost walked into Peter when he stopped in shock, so he peaked around him and saw the spiderman themed candy apples he had asked Grandmama to make, next to the black ones they usually had.

“Ah, you must be Peter,” Morticia said, “Tony said that you’re the one. Oh, I hope it works well for the both of you. My sister killed her one, you know? Then herself. She wanted them to rot together sooner rather than later.”

Peter smiled and looked back at Tony and he felt his heart do a flip. The one. He would not let Peter go, not now, not ever. He was going to need a goddamn ring.

[go4blood]

taking orders // l.h.

Where you think you hate the new waiter at your job, but do you actually?

Yo! I’ve had this idea for a while so I hope you guys enjoy! this is my first time writing smut so spare me. Feedback is appreciated as always! 

Edit: I’ve decided to make a series called 9to5!sos where they have everyday minimum wage jobs, so this is the first one :)

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: smut and strong language

Pairing: waiter!luke x reader

Tense: first person

I buttoned my ironed, white shirt to the very top and tucked it into my black pants. I looked through my drawer and found the one tie I owned and tied it around my neck. God, I was running late AGAIN. Going ten over the speed limit wouldn’t hurt, right? I quickly grabbed my apron from my chair and ran out to my car. Nothing like working the brunch shift. Waking up at an ungodly hour to try and beat traffic. Snobby, rich old people getting tipsy off of the mimosas and holding a grudge if you ever take more than 5 minutes to get them another one. My favorite shift ever, isn’t it? Yeah, right. It sucks. Everyday I regret not doing better in school and getting a scholarship to go to college and actually be productive in life. Instead, I slave away every weekend and evening after classes to pay for college.

Lucky for me, I barely beat the traffic and make it to work with 2 minutes to spare. I parked in the back with every other employee and quickly go in through the back door. I greet the people I work with today and go to the computer to clock in. After that, I go to the hostess stand while I tie my apron around my waist and see what five tables I’m in charge of until 4 o’clock. Patrons start rolling in within ten minutes and it’s time to start working.

Suddenly, my boss walked to me with a pep in her step as she usually does. Violet was a nice older woman in her late forties with kind eyes and a way with words that could make anyone smile.

“Honey, I thought I should ask you rather than surprise you, we have a new waiter I just hired. He’s a nice young man around your age, I was wondering if you could train him tomorrow evening? It’s Monday, so it won’t be busy. I would never make you train someone on a day like today.” She was rambling, as per usual, and I interrupted her as I often have to.

“Yes, I can train him. It’s no problem.” I smiled and she let out a sigh of relief. Everyone always complained about training new people, but I was always happy to. Violet gave me a chance after I graduated and was desperate to pay tuition, so it was the least I could do.

“Thank you, sweetie. Okay, I won’t keep you. Don’t be afraid to let me know if you need anything!” And with that, she walked back through the kitchen doors and to her office.

I walked to my section and waited for my customers to arrive. Not long after, two of my tables were filled and I could finally get to work. I took drink orders and made brief small talk. Most of these people were actually pretty nice and patient, thankfully. It made my shift go by a lot faster.

—

My shift ended after a grueling 6 hours with no break. I went into the kitchen and clocked out, getting ready to leave until I was told Violet wanted me in her office. I went into her office, closing the door behind me to see her along with a guy around my age.

He had blue eyes that looked like tropical ocean water you could dive into. His golden curls fell below his ears and he was insanely tall. He towered over me and Violet. And, not to mention, he was extremely broad. He wore a button up shirt that looked to be silk buttoned quite low that was tucked into his tight jeans. He was gorgeous, I had to admit. But he didn’t look friendly. His eyes stared into my soul and when he shook my hand, it was too firm. Not a good firm, a ‘let’s get this over with’ firm. But maybe looks are deceiving. I silently hoped so.

“Hey, I’m Luke, the one you’ll be training tomorrow.” His face just screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’. It was quite unsettling.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” I gave an awkward smile. God, get me the hell out of here, “See you tomorrow night!”

And with that, I got the hell out of there.

—

“Ana, you will not believe what happened today!” I loosened my tie, pulling it over my head and throwing it on my desk and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons on my shirt.

My roommate, Ana, was lying in her bed watching Netflix. She was tall with auburn hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were like daggers, but her personality was far from that. She immediately paused her show and looked at me expectantly, “Tell me more! You can’t come in here yelling with a lame story so it better be good.”

“So this new guy got hired, and he is absolutely gorgeous. He is sent from the gods. Curly golden hair, blue eyes, tall, broad, blah blah blah, but! He has the personality of a fucking door. He already seems like an arrogant asshole. And I have to train him tomorrow! God, I am not ready for it at all. My boss said he has experience, so he probably thinks he’s so great, ugh! I already hate him.” I was pacing around the room, ranting, absolutely pissed. I was so unlucky.

“Maybe it was just an off day, y/n. He can’t be that bad already! Look on the bright side for once, let loose! Watch Stranger Things with me and forget about some stupid guy.” She patted the spot next to her on her bed, and I sat next to her.

“Steve is the only man who is relevant anyways.”

—

I clocked in for my shift, looking around for Luke. I spotted him in Violet’s office, so I let myself in.

“Ready for your first day?” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but it felt impossible. He silently nodded with an unamused look on his face, following me out of the office. This is gonna suck.

I led him to the hostess stand and showed him where our section would be, “So, right after you clock in, you’re gonna need to check in with the hostesses so they can start seating your section and so you know what tables are yours.”

“Mhm.” He was so unamused. He had no emotion. God, it was unbearable.

“After you get off of training, you’ll only get 3 tables for a week or two and slowly get more…” he nodded, still unamused.

One of my tables got filled. It was a couple in their late 40s or early 50s. This could be either great or terrible.

I went to their table and put on my customer service voice, “Hello guys! Welcome to Ophelia’s. My name is Y/N and I will be your server tonight. This is Luke, my trainee. He’ll be watching me tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Can we get a bottle of Hermann J. Wiemer HJW Vineyard Riesling 2016, please? It’s our anniversary.” The husband looked at his wife lovingly, thank god, nice customers.

“Of course! Would you like some waters as well?”

“That would be great, thank you so much.” I picked up the pitcher of water nearby, filling the glasses on the table, then leaving to go to the bar.

We walked back to the bar and I stopped just outside of the entrance of it.

“So, when someone orders alcohol, you have to tell a bartender. In the case of wine, they’ll just give you the bottle and the glasses so you can pour it at their table for them.”

“Yeah, that’s how it was when I worked for my dad at his restaurant. Nothing new.” His tone was flat. He was obviously ready for his training to end but he had 4 more hours of it.

“Okay, good for you, but I still have to tell you what we do.” I snapped, then told the bartender what I needed.

After receiving the wine and the glasses we went back to the table. The customer service voice was back.

“Here is your wine,” I set the glasses on the table, then opened the bottle of wine and poured it in their glass. I screwed the cap back on, setting the bottle on the table, “Are you two ready to order? Or do you need a few minutes?”

They ordered their meals and I led Luke to one of the four computers to punch in the order.

“This is where you punch orders in. You’ll log in and press the ‘take orders’ button. It’s touch screen. Type it in and specify anything that needs left out or added in. But I’m sure you’ve done this before, right?” My tone was cold. I was absolutely pissed at him. I quickly punched in the order and pressed submit.

“You know, it’s not my fault I could run circles around you doing the same job even though you’ve had it longer. It’s in my genes, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t even begin to think of what to say. I silently walked to my other tables with him following behind, having to pretend I wasn’t filled with rage.

—

“Ana! He somehow got fucking worse!” I pulled off my uniform and changed into sweats and a t shirt, absolutely fuming.

“What did he do now?”

“He’s so arrogant! He kept disregarding everything I taught him, saying he already knew everything! He’s such a dick! I hate him!” I jumped face first into my twin size bed, groaning into my pillow, “why are all the hot ones shitty people?”

Ana sighed, squeezing beside me on the bed, “I wish I knew. But you know what you need to do now, right?”

“What?” At this point, I was desperate for answers.

“Make way better tips than him, give way better service, show him he’ll never be better than you! Make him come to his senses. You’re the baddest bitch I know. Act like it!”

I sighed, rolling onto my back, “I’m gonna be better than him. I am better than him.”

“Damn right you are! Let’s get drunk!”

—

A week had passed since Luke decided to ruin my life and start working at Ophelia’s. He was finished with training so he had his own tables now. It was my time to prove that he will never be better than me.

I checked on my tables frequently, making sure drinks stayed filled at all times. I constantly checked to see how far along the food was in the kitchen. I was on top of everything.

It happened to be Thursday, and my regular customers who always request me were there. I went over to their table to have conversation since I finally had a minute to breathe.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Fendel! How has retirement been treating you guys?”

Mrs. Fendel let out a sigh of admiration, “Oh it’s just lovely, I finally have peace. It’s really nice. How have you been honey?”

“Oh I’ve been okay, you know, college stuff.”

“What was your major again, love?”

“Forensic psychology, my dad did that, so I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” I smiled, clicking my pen subconsciously.

Mrs. Fendel looked over to the other side of the restaurant, “Who is that young man? I’ve never seen him before… the one with the blond hair?”

I knew exactly who she was talking about without even looking, “That’s Luke. He’s new.” I had a tone of disinterest in my voice. There was no way for me to show the slightest bit of interest in him.

“Well isn’t he a handsome young man?” She gave me the ‘why don’t you try getting on that’ look that old women give when they try match making. A look I knew all too well. But there was no way in hell that I would ever be caught dead trying to get with Luke. He was an asshole who only thought about himself. He was self centered and arrogant; I hate him.

“He’s just… not the nicest guy in the world. I’m gonna go check on your food, and I’ll be right back.” I forced a smile and walked away. God, it felt impossible to like Luke in any way, shape, or form. My thoughts were interrupted by a very late “on your left” and a tray of drinks being spilled all over me and glasses hitting the floor and breaking. My white shirt was covered in red wine and champagne. I looked to see who was the one who bumped into me with the tray, and to my luck, it was Luke fucking Hemmings.

“Are you kidding me!? You said you were coming out of the doors at the very last second!”

“Maybe watch where you’re going rather than counting on me to warn you! It’s common sense! But you wouldn’t know, would you?” He was picking up the shards of glass and staring daggers into my soul.

I didn’t even know what to say. I was unbelievably pissed off. I quickly walked into the kitchen, far away from him. What the fuck was his problem? Why did he feel the need to be a fucking dick constantly? I sighed heavily and walked straight to the bathroom, not even bothering to lend a helping hand to Luke. Once I was in the restroom I made sure I was alone before I slid down the wall inside the stall and started crying. ‘ I have to get revenge,’ I thought evilly to myself. Maybe Ana would know just what to do. Or maybe I could just kill him with kindness.

—

“Y/N, just ignore him! He isn’t worth your time and effort.”

“I wanna get revenge for his shitty attitude, Ana! He deserves a taste of his own medicine…”

She sighed, looking me dead in the eyes, “I have a few ideas.”

“Lay then on me. I’m open to anything.”

She hummed, closing the bottle of nail polish she was using and putting it on the floor, “Well, you could just be overly nice to him.”

“I want to scheme though.”

She sighed, “Okay fine… I have a great idea. You guys punch in orders electronically, right?” I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say, “You could delete the orders he puts in so the kitchen doesn’t get them, and then his customers will be mad at him for taking forever to get the food out. Little does he know, his order didn’t even make it to the kitchen. He’ll get in trouble, and he won’t be on his high horse saying he’s the best.”

Ana was a genius. I slowly smiled, I had my plan. This had to work. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“What can I say? I somehow got into college, so there’s gotta be a little bit of smarts somewhere in this brain of mine.”

“How do I make sure he doesn’t find out I’m the one doing it?”

She let out a chuckle, “Don’t get caught. Better get ready, your shifts in an hour and a half.”

—

I checked in at the hostess stand so my tables could get seated. It was Friday, so it was a little busier than usual. But not terribly. So it was the perfect day to sabotage Luke, if I went through with it. But my tables were first priority. Two of my tables got filled, so I quickly got their drink orders and had small talk. But as soon as I got the drinks to their tables I realized I accidentally gave the woman unsweetened tea instead of sweet, and as soon as she tasted it she had to give it back. I quickly went back into the kitchen, where I saw Luke’s stupid face.

“Can’t read the clear labels that say sweetened and unsweetened, sweetheart?” He had a sarcastic undertone with each word he spoke to me and had a stupid grin on his face. Asshole.

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Well you’re sassy, aren’t you, princess?”

After this shitty encounter, I thought it was a good time to start sabotaging him. He walked out of the kitchen to take entree orders for a table of 4. He flashed a charismatic smile to everyone and walked away when he finished. Ugh, that stupid smile of his. Everyone just thinks he’s amazing, I hate it. He put in his order on the computer, walking in back to most likely get more drinks for one of his other tables. I quickly ran to the computer he just used and went to the ‘processing orders’ option. Lucky for me, Violet trusted me enough and gave me the login that gives me access to everything. I cancelled the order he just put in and logged out as soon as I finished. I wasn’t going to do this for every single order obviously, but enough to where Violet would notice and have to talk to him.

I went back to my table and took their orders as if nothing happened, like I normally would.

About twenty minutes passed pretty quickly, and I was going to the kitchen to see how far along the meals I put in were.

“What do you mean you didn’t get the order I put in? I put it in twenty minutes ago! It makes no sense. Fuck, now I have to somehow explain this. It was two pesto chicken pastas and two clam chowders. I need it as soon as possible, I’m sorry, it’s my fault I should’ve checked earlier.” Luke was visibly stressed out of his mind as he walked back to the table.

This would teach him. I only planned on doing it one more time, just to teach him a lesson. I walked back to my table with the water pitcher, filling the empty glasses as I eavesdropped on Luke’s conversation with his table.

“I’m so sorry for the wait, but our computer system glitched a-and your order got deleted so it’s just now getting started but I promise I’ll get it to you as soon as possible, um would you guys like an appetizer? For free, of course, on me.”

He was so stressed out, he desperately needed to be liked. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone complaining about him. He thought he had to be perfect at all times, and it was refreshing to see him make a mistake.

The customers were very obviously frustrated, but took up his offer on the appetizer. When Luke walked away, worry was all over his face. He was stressed out of his mind. Maybe this would teach him a lesson.

I walked around my section, asking if everyone was doing alright and refilled drinks. A customer ordered a salad, so I had to go to the kitchen to make it for them. As I went to the salad station, I saw Violet talking to Luke in the corner.

“You cannot mess up this bad, Luke. It doesn’t make us look good at all. I know you just started, but with experience on your belt, I expected more from you. It happening to one table is an accident, but twice? You had to just not use the computer right.”

Luke was extremely upset, and he wouldn’t let her walk away without his side of the story, “I swear I pressed submit each time! Violet, I really need this job. This is the only thing I’m good at, I swear it won’t happen again. Just give me another chance, I’m so sorry.” He was desperate to keep this job. He was practically begging on his knees, proving he learned his lesson.

Violet let out a heavy sigh, “I’m not gonna fire you, Luke. But I have to write you up… I know you can be better. Prove it.” And with that, she walked away from him. I finally did it, I gave him the lesson he deserved.

“Y/N! Honey, I have a favor.” Violet’s distinct voice rang through the kitchen.

I turned around, the bowl of salad I just made on a tray in my hands, “What is it?”

“I need you to close with Luke tonight and tomorrow. After what he did, I think you need to teach him the right way to do things again.”

God damn it. I have to be alone with him. Fuck, shit. And I can’t say no either, “Yes, of course, no problem.”

Son of a bitch. Karma for getting revenge, I suppose.

—

“I don’t fucking get why she had to pick you to close with me.” Luke was fuming as he held trash bags in each of his hands.

I quickly ran up behind him and pulled the back of his shirt to make him turn and look at me, “I could say the fucking same about you, Luke! Listen, I get that you fucked up, but you could maybe stop blaming others for your mistakes!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river! You just hate that I’m better than you! You can’t stand it!”

I could feel the tears coming, but I tried so hard to hold it in, “You’re a dick!”

“You’re a jealous bitch!”

“Fuck you, Luke!” The tears started streaming down my face, and there was no stopping them. I quickly walked away from him to the bathroom, locking the door and letting it all out. Why was I letting him get to me? I let out loud sobs that had no sign of stopping. He was right— I am jealous. I don’t want to be replaced because of him being better than me.

He knocked on the bathroom door, “Y/N? Please come out, I-I just want to talk. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… if you want to come out, I’ll be at a table rolling silverware… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I heard his footsteps fade away, and I was contemplating leaving the bathroom. It was hard to decide. Eventually, I had to leave the bathroom, so I got up and left to go join him at a table.

I saw him in a booth across the restaurant and sat across from him. I started to roll the silverware silently, keeping my eyes glued downwards at the task at hand. Sometimes, I would look up at him, but then he would look at me so I’d quickly look away.

This continued for ten minutes, and it was extremely awkward.

He finally decided to break the silence, “So, um, Violet said you’ve worked here a year?”

You were surprised he was the one to start a conversation, but you decided you should be civil and talk back, despite the fact that he just made you bawl your eyes out in the bathroom, “Yeah, um, I was desperate to pay for college so she took me in. I’m practically her daughter at this point. So... she said you have experience already?”

“Yeah, my dad owned a restaurant, it was the family business. It was my great grandpa’s, then my grandpa’s, then my dad’s, and I was supposed to be next… but we went out of business. I worked there as soon as I turned 15. I was so excited to inherit it, but that’s not gonna happen now, so. It is what it is.”

I frowned, he had a lot more to him than I initially thought, “I’m sorry about that…”

“It’s whatever, I guess everything happens for a reason,” his tone was cold. He was extremely upset about this. When he would look at me, it was like he actually had sincerity in his heart, “I’m sorry for being arrogant and acting like I know everything. I’m just… still angry. I got cocky whenever my dad told me I would be getting the business once he retired. But then shortly after, business wasn’t booming anymore and he had to close the restaurant. I’m basically full of angst and take my anger out on others. It’s a bad trait.”

I instantly regretted what I did. It was wrong of him to be arrogant, but he was just angry at the world. He wasn’t just angry at me, “Luke, it’s okay to be angry. I would be, too.”

“You’re not too bad of a waitress, I guess you may be a little better than me,” He grinned, cracking the joke to lighten the mood, “I’m sorry for making you cry… I wish I could undo that. Let me buy you dinner? There’s this diner a few miles away open 24 hours.”

“Okay, sure. Let’s get dinner.” I smiled, and for the first time, I think he smiled back with sincerity.

—

Surprisingly, dinner went really well last night. Luke wasn’t as bad as he initially seemed to be. He was actually really funny, and pretty nice once you get past his built up angst. My phone lit up with a text message.

‘I had a really good time last night. See you at work tomorrow morning :)’

I smiled to myself, quickly replying and sitting my phone down.

“What are you smiling about?” Ana smirked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oh… just, Luke isn’t as bad as I thought, actually. He’s kind of cool.”

“Is that so? He isn’t actually an arrogant asshole?”

I shook my head, “No, actually; he’s full of angst, though. But he’ll get better eventually. We work the same shift again tonight.”

“Don’t let him be mean to you again!”

“He won’t!”

—

It was extremely busy at the restaurant. I messed up drink orders more often than usual, and I brought the wrong food to the wrong table more than once. I was stressed out of my mind. I walked into the kitchen and made 3 drinks quickly; the kitchen was a complete madhouse. I put the drinks on my tray and turned around to see Luke, but it was too late to stop, causing the drinks fall to the floor.

He sighed impatiently, a look of annoyance painted all over his face, “Y/N, today is not the fucking day to mess-“ He saw me wince when he started to yell, and he stopped himself, bending down to pick up the cups and lowering his tone, “Hey, it’s okay, tonight is rough. Just take a deep breath. I’m sorry.”

“Luke! You’re not helping, please just give me a break!” I quickly remade the drinks and walked away, feeling like I was about to cry my eyes out. This shift would never end. There was only an hour left, but it felt like an eternity. The tips tonight weren’t as good due to the several mistakes, which didn’t surprise me. Everything was going wrong. I served my last table their meals and went to the now calm kitchen to take a breather.

—

Once everyone left, it was time to close the restaurant. The only people left were Luke and myself. I was silently sweeping the floor when I heard his voice from behind me.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you today, I was just stressed out.”

“Luke you just don’t get it. I’m not good at this job; you’re so much better than me. I don’t wanna lose my job, but I’m scared that soon enough I will. I need this job to pay for college, but I don’t even deserve it!”

“Y/N! You deserve it way more than me! What do you even mean you don’t?”

“You know, when you first got hired, I claimed that I was better than you. But in reality, I just didn’t want anyone to be better than me because I can’t lose this. After today, Violet was so disappointed in me! I just don’t know what to-“

I was cut off by him grabbing a fist full of my shirt and crashing his lips onto mine. At first, I didn’t move. He pulled away, looking me in the eyes, “Relax, babe. You’re not gonna lose your job. You’re way better than I’ll ever be at this job. You’re amazing, and I never hated you. I was just cocky and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

I kissed him, tangling one hand in his hair. He held my waist, pulling away to take me to the empty bathroom. He pulled his tie off, then started to unbutton my shirt, pausing to ask if it was okay. I nodded eagerly, also unbuttoning his shirt and taking his tie off.

“Needy much, darling?” He smirked, priding himself on his cocky attitude.

I blushed, nodding quickly, “I guess you could say that.” His knee found its way between my legs and I bucked my hips forward in an attempt to create friction.

He chuckled darkly, “I’m sure once I give you the real thing you won’t need to put in this much effort, love.”

I clenched my teeth, speaking between my teeth, “Then do it, love.”

“My pleasure.” He lifted me onto the sink, pulling my pants down and pulling a condom out of his pocket. He slowly pushed into me, trying to give me time to adjust to his size.

I winced and gripped a handful of his hair, hoping to God  I’d eventually adjust. With my other hand, I gripped onto his shoulder, pushing my head back and breathing heavily, “A-ah Luke-“

“Doing alright, darling?” He kissed up my neck, leaving small marks here and there. His voice was filled with lust, “You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so good, aren’t you?”

I moaned in response, hoping he wouldn’t stop praising me. I can’t lie- it turned me on. He picked up his pace, gripping my hip and biting his lip in concentration.

“Luke, I’m so close, faster!” He went faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Come on princess, hold out just a little longer for me. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl for me?”

I nodded quickly, eager for release. His hand made its way to my clit, and I gasped at the sudden pleasure, “I’m gonna cum, Luke!”

“Me too, fuck.” I gripped his hair in my fist even tighter, and my orgasm tore through me.

Luke was close behind, “God, you did so good, baby.” His movements slowed down, and he was catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of me and slipped off the condom, disposing it.

I looked at him, in a daze, “So, uh, what now?”

He hummed, “Well, I guess we should finish our closing work. And then I can take you to dinner if you’re up for it?”

I chuckled, “It’s the least you could do for fucking me before our first date.” I kissed him softly, smiling at him. Maybe he wasn’t just some angst filled waiter after all.

—

I woke up the next morning to a text from Luke.

‘I had a great time last night, can we get coffee like, as soon as you wake up?’

I smiled, answering immediately, ‘see you there in 30 minutes.’

I quickly got dressed and left to my car. I drove to the coffee shop and parked my car in a pretty close parking spot. I went inside and ordered an iced latte, dropping an extra dollar in the tip jar. I sat at the table, waiting for him to arrive.

He arrived shortly after, ordering an americano and sitting across from me.

“So, last night was… really good. I enjoyed it a lot.” He smiled at me, putting his hand on top of mine.

“I did too. I really did. You’re a better guy than I thought, Luke.”

“Do you want to, maybe, be a thing?”

I chuckled, “You mean date?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Oh I don’t know Luke… you’re kind of the worst.” I smirked and he rolled his eyes, leaning over the table and kissing me sweetly.

“But you love it.”

—

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