#i drew that guy RELIGIOUSLY i tell you and i enjoyed it so much i went “huh myb it's not so bad to draw 1 char over and over” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

y0itsbri · 3 years

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gallavich week 2021 - day 2 - fantasy au w/ inspo from this wonderful prompt list by @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

You're Not Getting Cold Fins Now, Are Ya?

word count: 6.3k

(click on art for better quality)

Mickey truly enjoyed being a fisherman. He liked the solitude that came with the job -- no one on his ass trying to tell him what to do or that what he's doing was wrong when it definitely wasn't. He was always a resourceful little bastard, and his confidence at sea was not unwarranted. He knew how to do shit, and how to do shit right -- crewmates be damned. Nothing but him and the water, just the way he liked it.

He often sold his fish at the market in the small coastal town where he and his sister, Mandy, reside. Her charisma luring customers to their stand, promising the best of the best -- and it wasn't even a lie anymore. Lately, Mickey's produce was the freshest and somehow the most beautiful, catching somewhat exotic fish with vibrant colors that none of the other fishermen were able to attract. Mandy had once trapped him in the corner, demanding answers to questions like how on earth he alone could come up with all this? She thought he was secretly a pirate, raiding other ships, stealing their best, and dumping the rest -- you can't fucking afford to go to jail again, dumbass! Time after time, he reassured her that it was just dumb fucking luck until she caved and let him go, not withholding a dubious glare. Despite what he told her, and even told himself, he was a bit suspicious. He was not a lucky man.

With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.

Mickey sat himself in the sand, reveling in the feeling of being on land again. As often as he flipped between land and sea, the difference never failed to startle him. He dragged his hands through the sand, feeling like some fancy exfoliator Mandy was always trying to get him to use. He was adamantly watching the colorful rocks bead through his fingertips. A larger stone caught in his palm. He held it up to the sun where it was peeking out from behind the clouds. At first glance, it looked like any other stone -- kind of a boring sea foam color, but in the sun, it sparkled like green embers. He rested the stone atop his knee and turned his attention to a bird squawking from the rocks. Noisy fucker. He furrowed his eyebrows wondering what could have happened for the bird to cause such a fuss. Stuck in his tangle of thoughts and oblivious to the world, a wave swept over him -- even above his overalls.

Mickey leapt up in surprise, "Motherfuck-!" In all his joust movements, he managed his lose the stone... and his dignity. He didn't have a spare change of clothes on his boat because it was supposed to be a short trip. He didn't plan on falling asleep and ending up on an island god-knows-where. So there he sat, pouting, in just his boxers and hat while he let the remainder of his clothes air dry with what little sun there was. He could've sworn he heard someone laughing at him -- giggling, even. He glared towards the squawking bird before determining it was his own paranoia. Mandy had him do all that therapy shit awhile back, so he knows how he can get sometimes and how it's a 'trauma response' or some bullshit that actually made a hell of a lot of sense now that he thought about it.

He pulled out an orange from the front pocket of his overalls, still half damp in the sand. He nibbled on it, tossing his peels as far into the tide as he could, watching it float... float... disappear. Whatever creature was down there must really fuckin' like oranges. It was quick, but exciting none-the-less. Mickey no longer felt sluggish like his impromptu nap that landed him on this island might have suggested. He felt alive.

The sun placement told him that it was time to head back if he had any chance of making it back to the coast before sundown. Fuck! His fish! He picked up his clothes and half-jogged half-stumbled back to his boat, expecting the fish he had caught earlier in the day to have gotten tainted by now. He shoved his legs into his mostly-dry overalls and waded out to his boat. To his surprise, the fish looked good -- almost better than when he caught them.

Now Mickey may not be the most observant, but even he knew something was a little suspicious (something a little fishy is going on here🤔). If he didn't know then, he definitely knew when he turned to see the green ember stone -- his stone -- resting on top of his ice box. The fuck? He picked up the stone, smoothing over it's edges with his thumb, leaving a sparkling trail where his fingers had just touched. So it wasn't just from the sunlight, interesting. He secured the rock inside the zipper pocket on his overalls, then double checking to make sure it was still there. Whatever force on his side might be into second chances, but he didn't want to test his new luck with third chances.

He really had to get going now. He gave the island a once over as he pulled out his map, subtly marking his new uncharted oasis. This was something else.

Since his initial discovery, Mickey had come back to the island several times, and all the more prepared. He kept spare clothes on him at all times now, in case the tide one again decided to have a personal vendetta against him and his overalls -- which of course it had. He also brought more beef jerky, tools, and a tent. He was determined to see more than just the coast the next time he returned.

He had told Mandy that he was going to stop at another port for the night so as not to wait up for him that evening, which wasn't unheard of. With the amount of overnight stays on his isolated island as of lately, however, Mandy thought he had a secret lover a few ports over, teasing and making kissy faces at him whenever she could. "Who is she, Mick? Oh, c'mon, I tell you about my hookups!" "Yeah, and I wish you fuckin' didn't." "Whatever, anyways, she's gotta have a name. Wait! Oh my god! He? Is it a guy? Mickey!" "Mandy, no." She could be annoying as hell when she wanted to, but she mostly knew when to stop.

As much as Mickey denied a secret lover, there was definitely a secret something, but he couldn't place his finger on exactly what it was. He knew there was like the red-ish, orange-ish glow that flickered beneath the surface of the water. And he knew there was feelings. Which sounded weird as hell -- even to himself. He should have just played along with Mandy's hookup in another port theory. Hell, he should find a hookup in another port. That would be a lot simpler than whatever this was. But he just couldn't get himself to stay away from this mystical island. His fish business was doing better than ever, so he had no real excuse to stay away.

He had managed to map out the geography and topography of the island after a few visits -- Mickey knew his shit. No one lived on this island. It looked like no one has ever lived on this island. It was a small, and it was beautiful, but he still couldn't find the source of whatever force drew him here -- at least when he was actively searching for it. He continued throwing his orange peels in the ocean to be devoured by his... friend? He tried to throw his apple cores in, but his creature was apparently not a fan. He didn't blame them, to be honest.

He began to talk to himself and even sing to himself more and more on the island. He thought he may have heard the laughter again, and even some off-key humming or whistles along to his tunes. Mickey didn't even care if it was the paranoia or if he was having some odd hallucination at this point. He just felt entirely too good.

Which is why he didn't see it coming. If he hadn't been so distracted by this siren-like callings, he would have noticed the storm coming. He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, damnit. He knew his shit! Which is why he knew that he could secure the boat as best as humanly possible, and it still wouldn't survive the storm surge unscathed. He hoped that whatever force looking out for him would look out for his boat. He said a quick prayer -- and he wasn't religious by any means -- as he double checked to make sure he had his 'lucky' stone, his backpack, and his map, then hiked inland where he knew there was a cave for shelter.

He had escaped the start of the downpour, but only barely. The dark clouds loomed overhead, chasing out any hopes of a light, easy rain. Mickey huddled against the inner wall of the cave, nibbling at one of his jerky strips, and cursing the lack of cell phone signal on this fucking island that doesn't even fucking exist according to any map he's ever fucking seen. To say he was having a bad day was an understatement. He couldn't do much but wait, and he quickly fell asleep to the pitter patter of the water dripping outside the cave.

He awoke to a sharp burning on his chest. The fuck?! His so-called 'lucky' stone was hot. And glowing. And so was most of the other rocks in the cave. Now this was definitely something. The stones obviously did not want him to stay still as they grew hotter and glowed brighter, but this time alternating and lighting up a path down a miniscule stream he hadn't noticed before. The storm had long stopped, and he hoped these bewitched stones would at least lead him to the shore so he can check on whatever remains of his boat.

Mickey followed the path to the shore, luckily, but more towards the rocks that he noticed on his first visit. He hardly saw the rocks now as he was drawn to a heap of familiar orange-ish red-ish laid up on shore. He fully expected it to disappear again so he refused to even blink, inching closer. It was alive -- for sure -- that was good, but it was battered from the storm. It looked scaley... but also had hair? It grunted and rolled over. Yup. That was a man. But also a fish.

Mickey thought his hallucination were playing entirely too many games on him now but he physically could not bring himself to turn away, as much as he swore he wanted to. He wanted out. He was insane. That was the only explanation, because obviously mermaids weren't real. He was sleeping, he had to be. He would wake up in his bed next door to Mandy's and all of this would go away. Hell, maybe the whole island was in his dreams. Maybe he was trapped in a very realistic coma. He looked around for something to wake him the fuck up when he heard the creature groan again.

Fuuuuuck, now Mickey was involved. The tide had pulled back far enough that left the creature stranded on the land. The stone grew hotter yet against his chest. "Alright, alright, I fuckin' got it, thank you," he grumbled. The creature turned it's startled head towards his. They locked eyes -- green embers. Of course.

"It's you, isn't it? All this time?" Mickey asked as the creature weakly tried to hide his face. Mickey didn't know why. It was a beautiful face, somehow covered in freckles that sparkled.

"Nah, man, it's cool, right? We've been having fun, eating oranges and shit?"

The creature unburied its head and quietly whistled one of Mickey's favorite songs, earning a chuckle out of Mickey as he awkwardly lifted the half-man half-fish in some semblance of a firefighter carry. Mickey expected the creature to be slick and cold, but he was soft and warm. Odd, but not unpleasant. They were almost to the water now.

"Yeah, Rain on Me by Ariana Grande and Lady Gaga. Fuckin' banger. Don't tell my fuckin' sister about this. She'd never let me live this down."

The red-headed creature tilted its head in confusion.

"Lady Gaga? Ya know, Mother Monster?"

He seemed to startle at the word 'monster' as he wiggled, escaping Mickey's grip into the water, disappearing into the dark sea. Frowning, in a last attempt at communication.

Mickey wasn't having it. Nah. The creature had been luring him for weeks. Hanging out with him for weeks. Even called out to him with some fuckin' moon stone type things. And now it wanted to disappear? He didn't fucking get it. He kept talking to himself as he paced along the shore.

"You're not getting cold fins now, are you?" Mickey teased, "Wait, fuck, is that offensive? Fuck, I'm sorry, please just come back."

He was acting fucking pathetic. He buried his face in his hands. Fuck. His brain was fucked. His life was fucked. His boat was fucked. His boat.

Mickey nearly tripped as he stumbled back to his boat. Or more like where he docked his boat. All that remained was his anchor. The rest had been mangled and scattered along the shore. He could probably get it fixed eventually since he had the little foresight to keep his tools safe in his backpack. But until then, he was stuck on an island, that apparently didn't exist, with a companion, who apparently didn't want to be perceived, and a dwindling supply of beef jerky. Great.

It had been a depressing night. Without Mandy's overenthusiastic presence or his new friend's feel-good aura, Mickey was especially pessimistic. He hardly got any sleep, his brain racking all the ways he could possibly fix his boat. Mickey Milkovich knew his shit, but he was beginning to feel a little doomed. He took out his 'unlucky' stone from it's secure pocket, fidgeting with it like he does when he's nervous. The thing was cold (one could say it was stone cold😎).

Feeling hopeless, he stormed back to the shore, tossing his last orange into the water, intent on yelling at the water until he died a peaceful death.

"C'mon, man," his voice came out sounding more like pleading than yelling, but what can you do? "I don't give a fuck if you're a man or a fish. I need you to help me fix my fucking boat! You got me into this mess, you get me out of it!"

He collapsed in the moonlight. He was absolutely not on the verge of crying. He was focusing on his breathing so intently that he barely heard his voice.

Holy fuck, though. He finally got why the legends always referred to mermaids as sirens. He would follow this voice anywhere. It was as disturbing as it was comforting.

Mickey was knocked out of his trance as his previously-tossed orange rolled to a stop at his feet.

"I said, I'm sorry." The siren's red hair poked out of the ocean several feet in front of him. Mickey continued to stare. How the fuck did this motherfucker's freckles glow brighter than the stars in the sky above them?

"I never meant to cause you harm. Swear. I even brought you the best fish I could find. My family lectured me about cannibalism or some shit, but I just wanted any excuse to see you again."

Mickey stared in awe. The creature's voice ringing through his ears prettier than any choir he had ever heard. He had got to get himself together. He was supposed to be mad. Right!

"What about my fuckin' boat? You realize I actually have to leave this place eventually, right, Red?" Maybe Mickey was being a bit harsh considering he was basically in the middle of some magical doomsday. But he was still ridiculously frustrated at his current situation.

"Hmm," the creature considered, "my name is Ian." Ian. Ian. Ian. The name chimed through his head. "And I was thinking about your boat. I tried to save it before it was too late, but I ended up too close to the shore, and the tide was ridiculous, and hence I got stranded and we got off to the wrong... fin." Ian gave Mickey a dumbass smirk, clearly proud of himself.

Okay, it did ease the tension, Mickey would give him that. Mickey was silent for a bit too long again.

"And what is your name?" Ian mused, "I've got to stop calling you That-One-Hot-Fisherman in my head."

Mickey nearly choked, and tried to cover it up by rubbing his hand against his lips, "Mikhailo." He had no idea why he was compelled to share his real name. He hadn't used that name in years -- only liking it from the sound of his mother's mouth. He corrected himself, "Well, it's Mickey. That's what I go by."

"Okay, well, Mickey Mikhailo, shall we get started on rebuilding your boat now or do you want to wait until morning?" Ian looked both devious and sincere. It was maddeningly confusing.

If Mickey swooned at the way a fucking fish said his name, that was nobody's business. But he couldn't deny he was exhausted. His stone was warm against his chest, comfortingly so, not hot like before. He managed to mumbled out a "in the morning" before falling into the peaceful sleep he had been so desperately craving.

Mickey awoke to sunshine in his face and a bird pecking at his thigh -- the pocket where his final jerky stick remained.

"Fuck off you fucking fuck!" He shooed haphazardly while rubbing fucking literal sand out of his eyes. God, what a nightmare.

"I see someone's not a morning person," teased an orange blob from the water. Mickey rubbed his eyes again. Right. Ian.

"Fuck off, fish genius over there."

"That's not any way to treat your only chance of getting off the island anytime soon," Ian pouted.

Fish genius had a point.

"Sorry," Mickey grumbled. He was never one for apologies, but man did he need to stay on this creature's good side. But, he was all good sides as far as Mickey was concerned. In the daylight, he could see how Ian's orange hair curled into little rings when it air dried. It looked real fuckin' soft. He couldn't remember if he had the chance to touch it yesterday on their fucking rescue mission. He needed to distract himself before he said something he regretted. He was not about to be flirting with a fish. He wasn't!

"Ya got any more oranges you can toss my way? Fuckin' starving."

Ian pointed at the one sandy orange a few feet from where Mickey had slept, "Just yours that you tried to hit me with, thank you very much."

"You like the peels, though." Mickey said as he tossed a piece into the ocean, floating several yards away from where Ian's head bobbed out of the water.

That took Ian aback, "Damn, I thought I was slicker than that."

"Not that slick, man."

"Hmm." Ian briefly considered before speeding over to the peel and devouring it quickly, "I can get you some sea food -- as your people say."

"Ain't that basically illegal for you, Red? Ain't you technically sea food?" Mickey musing, tossing another piece of his orange peel into the water.

Ian rolled his eyes. "I-an." He sounded it out slowly. "But I mean, circle of life and all that." He chased the orange peel, twisting it in his fingertips, awaiting Mickey's response.

"Nah, it's cool, don't worry about it, I-an. I don't really want any part in your whole fucked up moral dilemma situation. Got enough of those myself."

Mickey avoided Ian's attempt at eye contact, and Ian didn't push the conversation any further. He seemed tentative again. Mickey didn't want to lose him again.

"So... boat stuff?" Mickey huffed as he stood up, turning to his mangled beauty.

"Yeah," Ian did that dumbass smirk again that had Mickey fucking blushing, "Boat stuff."

Ian explained that he had spent most of the night gathering the parts that he could find in the water, and even some special mud and sea weed looking things that he promised would hold it together if Mickey's tools couldn't. Mickey took offense to the lack of faith Ian had in his skills, but he eventually agreed that it was at least somewhat warranted given their current predicament.

Mickey spent the morning gathering boat parts from land, and by midday, he felt hopeful. It was a 'finding treasure in the trash' kind of moment, but it was enough for now.

Ian and Mickey had fell into idle conversations as Mickey worked to restore his boat and Ian gazed onward, bobbing in the waves.

"So, you have a sister named Mandy?" Ian asked after a slice of silent had washed over them.

"What, are you a psychic, too?" Mickey laughed nervously under his breath.

Ian rolled his eyes like that was the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "No, smartass, I'm a good listener." He paused. "You talk about her a lot."

"Wasn't sure if you were real or if I was crazy." Was all Mickey managed to respond. Ian was really more of the conversation carrier and neither of them seemed to mind.

"Do you have any other family or friends?" Ian wondered, this time genuinely curious.

"Considering I'm talking to you right now, what do you think?"

Ian silently stared at Mickey until his watch became uncomfortable and Mickey felt the urge to continue.

"Mandy's the only one that sticks around. She actually cares about me -- fixes me dinner, drags me out to meet her friends, even makes sure I get enough sleep -- she's fuckin' crazy."

"It sounds like she loves you."

"Yeah. Dunno why."

"You're a good person, Mickey."

Mickey flashed Ian his knuckles reading 'FUCK U-UP' in faded black ink. "Yeah, I'm a real stand-up guy."

"No, I mean it." And Ian just looked so genuine that all Mickey could do was believe it for once in his goddamn life. All it took was for a fish to tell him. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

"What's your social circle look like? Couple of dolphins, maybe a crab?"

"Maybe," Ian confessed. Shit, maybe this was some real life Little Mermaid. "But I also have five siblings."

"Y'all all got bright-ass fins? Or is that just you?" Mickey still couldn't believe this was his reality right now, but shit, might as well hear about all of Ariel's siblings.

"My little sister, Debbie, she's orange like me. My mom had a theory that our colors are reflective of like our auras or something. She was always hanging around this old-as-balls sea turtle spouting off whatever nonsense he remembered. Some of it makes sense, though. My oldest sister, Fiona, is purple. Then there's my brothers -- Lip is blue, Carl is green, and Liam is yellow."

"Mandy has black hair like me. But she has a nose piercing, and I ain't getting one of those anytime soon."

Ian smiled that Mickey was even trying to draw some sort of semblance between their drastically different worlds. But it felt so natural, Mickey couldn't help it.

Mickey felt his lucky stone grow warm, again. Ian wasn't in any trouble, though. He was literally right fuckin' here. And he was happy. Mickey was happy, too.

By nightfall, they had called it quits. Mickey had ended up using some of Ian's 'special' tools, earning a fair amount of teasing from Ian himself. Whatever. The red-head had been protecting him so far. He trusted him -- even if that thought was terrifying. The mud would dry in the moonlight, and Ian assured Mickey that he would be set by morning.

Mickey was fucking hungry after a long day's work. It was high tide and Ian had something different in mind.

"Now that we're talking," Ian started. "I've been wanting to show you this."

Mickey waited for further instructions.

"Follow the stones, I'll meet you there, promise."

Mickey trusted the fucker despite his innate inability to trust anyone else, so he followed the stones into the thick of the forest. He knew the island. He had mapped the thing. He didn't know what Ian could possibly want to show him that he hadn't already seen.

The path stopped glowing near the bottom of a cliff. He knew about the cliff. But what he didn't know was that the cliff was a waterfall.

"Woah."

"Pretty cool, huh? Only happens with lots of rain."

Ian had prepared them a fish dinner set on another rocky edge, like the one on the other side of the island.

"Ian. You're a fish. This ain't right."

"First of all, I'm a mammal. Second, it's fine. They tell me when they're ready to die so I have a clear conscious as far as I'm concerned."

"Dude. I knew this was fucked up, but that is fucked up."

"Dude," Ian mocked him, "We're in the middle of the fucking ocean. Do you have any better ideas, or are you just gonna be all pissy? Least you can do is eat with me."

Mickey's jerky supply was officially gone. Fish genius had another point.

Mickey wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Ian's dinner was even better than Mandy's were.

Morning came and Mickey found himself not wanting to leave. Of course, he knew he had to, so he would.

"So, Red, I guess this is goodbye?"

"Only for now. You'll be back." Ian winked. Mickey knew he would.

"This is stupid, but like, you can't go back with me? Like, we make a pretty good team."

Mickey was visibly uncomfortable at his moment of vulnerability, and Ian took pity on him with a gentle smile. "Unless I want to get hunted, I'm better off here. It's safer."

"Right, right." That made sense. Mickey didn't even want to think about the possibility of Ian getting hurt. There had been rumors about mermaids in the area, but he had always assumed them to be tall tales. He knew enough of the fishermen were heavy drinkers and supposed that played a factor in their truth-telling.

"My mother is on land now, but she wouldn't choose to help me. Learned that the hard way."

Mickey frowned. He knew what it was like to have a parent that would trade you for literally anything else. But he was more curious about another part of Ian's story.

"What do you mean your mom is on land? Like she was captured or something?"

"No, nothing like that. More like she's got two legs that she uses to chase whatever thrilling experience she can. Another one of her wacky theories was that her 'true love's kiss' gave her the ability to shapeshift between her land and water forms whenever she wanted."

"Huh."

"All my siblings think she's crazy. The idea was tempting enough for awhile, though. Fiona had gotten real close to this sailor named Steve. He promised her the world and she believed him. But their bond wasn't enough to shift. Fiona was sure he was her soulmate. He still comes around sometimes. And then there's Debbie, who almost got killed trying to woo some girl at the port. I think my mother is just a hopeless romantic. But hope can be dangerous sometimes."

Mickey listened on to this story that sounded more like a children's bedtime story -- all this princess nonsense about a true love's kiss made him think that maybe this red-head was Ariel. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the worried look in Ian's eyes.

"Well whatever it is, she sounds pretty lucky."

Ian smiled softly, sadly. "Yeah."

"Hey," Mickey said gently. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, Mickey sailed his patchwork boat back to whatever wrath Mandy was about to unleash on him.

The door creaked as Mickey made his way into the apartment he shares with his sister. He was nearly tackled on sight.

"Mickey, what the fuck!" Mandy punched his shoulder before crushing him into another hug. "I was so worried about you, you little shit!" "Ow! Jesus, I'm alive. Would you calm your tits?!"

Mandy gave him one more punch for good measure, "Where the fuck have you been? Three days, Mikhailo Aleksandr, three days! Tell me you didn't get that bitch up at the other port pregnant. I'm not taking in anymore rug rats."

"Bad storm. Boat wreck. And ya know what," Mickey threw his hands into the air, "I wish I would have got someone pregnant. Instead, I was stranded at sea, so maybe be a little bit nicer to me?"

"Fuck." She slumped a bit, "How did you manage to get back? Did you call one of your pirate buddies?"

"Jesus Christ, Mandy. I'm not a pirate -- even though they are dope as fuck, by the way. I just so happen to have a few brain cells -- something you don't know anything about."

Mandy rolled her eyes, "Competent enough to sail straight into a storm, huh?

Mickey flipped her off, "Good to be home, sis."

Mandy smiled, "C'mon, I'll make you some real food. I'm sick just thinking about you surviving off fuckin' jerky for half a week."

-- Mickey picked up a couple shifts at Mandy's bar the next week and a half to make up for three days of lost produce and another week for the time it took to properly fix his boat. He trusted Ian's magic mud well enough, but he didn't want to push his luck.

He wore short sleeve button-ups when he was bartending. He didn't have the comfortable luxury of built in inner pockets like with his fishing overalls, so he sewed his own. He couldn't stand the idea of not having his lucky stone close to his heart.

One night while he was slinging drinks, he mind at sea, he felt the stone grow hot and hotter. Fuck! It nearly burned his skin. He took it out from its pocket tossing it back and forth between his hands. It was glowing again. He felt nauseous. This had to mean Ian was in danger, right? Like last time in the cave? He wasn't on the island. He didn't have some magic pathway leading him exactly where he needed to go. What if he didn't get there in time?

He must have looked as insane as he felt because he felt a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Mick, take a fifteen."

"Got it." Mickey headed out back. Mandy would assume he was just having a smoke. But he ran. He hoped to hell that he was on the right track. The stone glowed brighter so he took that as a good sign.

He was out of breath as he rounded the corner and ended up at the docks. The stone's glow died down and it grew cold. Something was very wrong. What the fuck?

"Ian!" He probably looked like a psychopath screaming at the sea. Maybe he wasn't far from it.

This was the dock his boat was usually parked at. He was on his way to his old spot. Maybe--

A flash of red caught his eye in the dark water. No fish that red was ever this close to shore. His stomach crumbled. Oh my God, Ian.

Mickey dropped to ground, trying to get a better look at what was wrong. Wrapped in fishing nets was Ian, his skin a sickly shade of blue that wasn't from the moonlight.

Mickey made quick work of the fishing net with his pocket knife, careful not to cut Ian's slightly cold body. Was he too late? He couldn't be too late. He was here now. Everything would be fine.

Tapping into the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Mickey heaved Ian's large body onto the dock planks. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing at least.

"Ian. Ian, look at me. You're safe now, okay?" Mickey turned around, making sure he was alone. Luckily, no one was out at the water this time of night. Mickey pulled Ian's head into his lap and brushed his fingers through Ian's hair. Fuckin' finally. It was soft. So soft. "Hey, Red, wanna hook me up with whatever conditioner you got under the sea?" He laughed at himself to keep from crying.

Ian murmured something, lips barely parting.

Mickey stopped his caresses, "What was that, Mumbles?"

"Said you're a dumbass." Ian repeated. It was quiet, but his sass rang through. He was alive alright.

"I know." Mickey smiled for real this time. He placed a gentle kiss on Ian's forehead near his hairline. Ian's eyes fluttered open as they held each others' gaze.

They were distracted when Mickey's stone glowed bright again. Probably brighter than it has ever been before. The color shifted from it's usual green ember to resemble more of an icy blue. The boys watched as it began to shake on the ground -- where Mickey had dropped it when he spotted Ian's body. The stone continued to vibrate violently until it burst. Green and blue specks of light joining the stars in the sky above them. Mickey was so entranced by the light that he didn't notice when something else began to shift.

Ian's shimmering red-orange tail was replaced by two, long, freckled legs. Ian's eyes grew wide as he hit Mickey's arm.

"The fuck you hitting me for -- holy shit."

"Maybe my mom wasn't crazy."

"Maybe not." Mickey traced Ian's new legs with his fingertips. "How do you feel? Pretty big change, champ."

"It feels right... which is weird." Ian concluded after a moment, wiggling his toes.

"You're weird, so it makes sense." Mickey nodded, like it was obvious.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

Mickey cocked his head as his lips upturned into a smirk, "Make me."

Mickey had expected Ian to still be chilled from the water, but he wasn't. He was warm and soft. So there they stayed, tightly wrapped in each others' arms under the dancing green-blue stars and the sound of gentle waves knocking into boats.

It was safe to say that Mickey had entirely forgot about returning to his shift at the bar that night. They had decided to sneak Ian into Mickey's room before the fishermen got their early start on the day ay the docks. It was still dark when they slowly opened his apartment's front door, knocking into each other and trying not to laugh at their bizarre situation.

Mandy flicked on the larger kitchen light, ready to give her brother an ear-full for leaving her alone to serve the bar creeps all night when she noticed he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a tall, gorgeous, red-headed man, who appeared to only have eyes for her brother, not even noticing her presence.

"I thought you said you didn't have any bitches?" Mandy said, hoping to burst them out of their little bubble.

Mickey mumbled a quiet fuck under his breath. And surprisingly, Ian was the first to speak up, "Uh, you must be Mandy? I'm Ian. I'm uh- just visiting town."

"Mhm, whatever you say. Mick, next time, at least tell me when you're ditching work for a booty call, yeah?" She said after an appreciative glance Ian's way, bumping Mickey's hip as she walked past them to her room down the hall.

"Oh, work. Yeah, my bad." Mickey had genuinely forgot. Something about soulmates kind of clouding his judgement.

"Pasta's on the stove -- goodnight, dumbass and company!" She called before slamming her door closed.

Ian erupted into a fistful of giggles, "So much for sneaking in, huh?"

"Whatever, do you want some pasta, or are you sticking straight to cannibalism and orange peels?" Mickey teased.

"I'll have whatever you're having, stud." Ian squeezed the back of Mickey's neck.

After their late night/ early morning pasta, they had curled up in Mickey's bed, facing each other in silence, their eyes saying all the words that they didn't need to say out loud. Until-

"Fuck!" Ian's abrupt comment startled Mickey, even causing a hitch in Mandy's snoring in the next room over. Softer, he continued, "Your lucky stone, Mick. It's gone." He looked sad. He wanted to fix it.

Mickey brought his hand up to Ian's cheek, brushing it softly. "I don't need it, man. I have you."

Ian covered Mickey's hand with his own, then brought their hands to his lips, kissing each of Mickey's tattooed knuckles gently, like they held the secrets of the universe. Mickey smiled.

"I am the luckiest man in the world." And he was.

#i’m not a writer but i wrote this #i'm really excited about this one tbh. it's my first like true au and !! mermaid !!#also title is from ariel lmao #shameless #gw2021 #ian gallagher #my posts #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless au #gallavich au #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021day2

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

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Fic: Her Minor Thing (Henry Cavill x Reader)

Summary: things are going so well between you’re and Henry, you just need to confess one tiny little thing: You’re a virgin. At 28 years of age.

Author’s Notes: this was requested by an anon who wanted Henry finding out his girlfriend was a virgin on her late twenties. I feel like I should say that I truly believe virginity is a social construct that shouldn’t have so much power in the lives of women. With that said, I know it can have heavy weight in several cultures, especially in religious contexts. So I drew this from my own Latin background and I had especifically a latin!reader in mind for this. Feedback is always greatly appreciated.

Wordcount: 3875

Warnings: smut (oral, fingering, unprotected sex)

As much as she hated to use such a cliché turn of phrase, he did stand out like a sore thumb. Not only he was one of the few men in a crowd women, but the way he lingered at the back, tall and broad-shouldered, hoodie pulled over his head and sunglasses covering his eyes while inside the small and cramped bookstore, just managed to pull her focus to him.

He was trying so hard to blend in, but everything he did, undermined his efforts. She wondered why bother to come to a reading of an erotica novel if you were going to be like that as if it was something to be ashamed of. She hated that sort of behavior because she never wanted to feel her books were something to embarrassed about. She was very proud of the moderate success she achieved writing them.

So, she made sure to keep her voice loud and clear as she read through the except chosen. A very steamy sex scene between the two protagonists. And while she did it, she kept her attention squarely on the man in the back, watching as he shifted his stand every so often, the sculped cheekbones taking a bright shade of pink at every word that passed her lips. And even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew he was staring right back at her.

The world seemed to fall away and it was like she was reading it just to him, whispering the dirty deeds that populated her mind straight into his ear. She shifted in her own seat and cleared her throat, gaze returning to the page because even though half of his face was hidden by the shade of his hoodie and the dark lenses of his glasses, she knew he was a gorgeous man.

Throughout the Q&A, her eyes kept flitting to him against her will, hoping that he would say something, grace her with the sound of his voice. She bet he had a smooth, velvet-like baritone that would feel like a caress to her ears. However, he stayed disappointingly quiet and by the time of the signing section, he had disappeared from view.

It was a little disheartening since she quite enjoyed watching him the entire afternoon, but there were people waving books in front of her and asking for pictures and the mysterious man quickly slipped from her mind until the very end, when tired and with a sore wrist, another book was pushed in her line of sight, the pages yellowing and cramped from being read way too often.

“Who should I make it to?” she asked, without looking up.

“Henry.” His voice was low and rumbling, sending a thrill to her spine and when her gaze finally met his, a gasp escaped her lips and comprehension downed. The real reason why he was trying to hide. “I love your books.”

“Really?” It was all she managed, her voice squeaky with shock and he chuckled.

“Yes.” His smile was gorgeous, and her heart skipped a beat. She was full of clichés today. “And I would very much like to discuss them with you, but…” he looked around, wetting his lips and her breath caught in her throat. “Maybe in a more intimate setting.”

Before she even considered the implications, she scribbled down her number right bellow the autograph and Henry’s smile widened as he pulled the book back and nodded his goodbye.

She didn’t think she would actually hear from him again. He was, after all, a world-famous actor and she was an author of a mildly popular erotica series. However, that night, Henry did call and they met from dinner and spend the night talking and laughing, and here they were, one month later, an unlikely couple as the pressed liked to say.

She and Henry fit on all the things that mattered. They were both very passionate about their work, but very devoted to each other. He was very insightful about her books and she was very honest about his parts. They were both goofs and geeks and she hadn’t been this happy in a relationship in a very long time.

With the exception of that one minor thing that she had been struggling to come clean about from the moment she noticed this thing with Henry was turning more serious than she thought it could ever be.

“Henry, babe?” she called, voice trembling with hesitation. “We need to talk.”

Those were never good words to hear in a relationship and she definitely didn’t feel good about saying them because she had no idea how Henry would react, but she this thing had been eating away at her each passing day Henry proved to be everything she could ever want in a man. She knew it was time to come clean.

Knowing that didn’t make it any easier and for a moment she considering just not telling him at all. Just let things proceed like they had been doing, but in the back of her mind, she would feel like she was deceiving Henry and she loved him too much to do that. So, it was time to buckle up and tell the truth, no matter how embarrassing it might be.

“Should I be worried?” he asked, blue eyes shining with doubt as Henry looked away from the script he had been studying and met her uncertain gaze.

“No,” you replied, biting your lip and working up the guts to say it.

Who knew confessing to a man she was a virgin would bring her so much trouble? Usually, she didn’t bother to say it. In her past experiences, whenever a guy got a hint of this fact, they suddenly got this predatorial glint in their eyes, like she had suddenly become a territory to lay claim. Either that or they would question how she might have made it to 28 years old without having sex. Regardless of what their approach was, it turned things awkward or right down disgusting and she ditched them as fast as she could.

However, things had been different with Henry. He was patient and gentle and kind, never pushing her farther than she was ready to go and never looking bothered by the wait. In the month they’ve been together, he hadn’t complained once that the farthest he got with her was a messy halfway handjob over his trousers.

“You know I come from a very catholic family, right?” she started, twiddling her thumbs, and Henry nodded.

He had met her grandmother after all. Abuela had loved Henry because he was so polite and a perfect gentleman, but he was terrified of the woman. To be fair, she was terrified of her Abuela too. A woman that raised two children by herself and put them all through college working as a caretaker was a force to be reckoned with.

“Well, I sort of made a promise to her when I was 13,” she said, tasting blood on her tongue. She bit on her lip so hard she just broke through the skin.

“Does that promise has something to do with waiting until marriage to have sex?” Henry asked, one eyebrow cocked, and a tiny smile on his lips as she stared at him in shock. “My Spanish might be a little better than I let on.”

“So, you knew? This whole time?”

“I didn’t want to push you into telling me or doing something you weren’t comfortable with.” He shrugged, before taking her hand and entwining their fingers. “I love you, you know? And I want to be with you for you not because of sex, so I don’t care if we don’t do it.”

“That’s sweet,” she smiled at him and squeezing his hand. “But I want to do it. I… uh… I want to have sex. With you.”

“Love,” Henry started, a hint of hesitation in his voice as he met her eyes. “I think you should keep your promise.”

“Wait, what?” All she could do was stare. All of the possible scenarios she had envisioned this conversation ending, this wasn’t one of them. “You want me to keep my promise… Henry, are you not attracted to me? Don’t you want to…”

He cut her off by catching her lips in a heated kiss. One hand behind her nape, holding her still, the other still holding her hand as he pushed past the seam of her lips, tongue tangling with hers. That was all it took for her to feel her body responding, arousal pooling in the pit of her stomach.

“Trust me, I definitely want you,” he mumbled against her mouth, bringing her hand to the prominent bulge in his pants and sucking on her pouty lower lip. “You have no idea how you drive me crazy with those little dresses and tiny shorts.”

“Oh!” she smiled, rubbing him through his jeans to make Henry grunt. “So, what’s the problem? Let’s just get this over with.”

“I made a promise of my own,” Henry said, pulling away from her. “To your Abuela.”

“What?” she looked at him with wide eyes, wondering exactly when could Henry had made such a promise to her.

“She showed up in the set the day after our dinner together,” he confessed with a grimace. “She loves you very much, you know? And she wanted to make sure I wasn’t just after…”

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, face flaming in shame. She could not believe her grandma would do this. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I can’t believe…”

“It’s ok.” He offered her a reassuring smile, bringing her knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against them. “I thought it was very sweet of her and yes, I did promise to be respectful of your virtue.”

She let out a snort of laughter, shaking her head. The entire thing was a completely new level of absurd, but what could she do?

“So no sex?” she asked, unable to keep the disappointment off her voice. Henry grinned.

“No sex,” he replied, tugging her closer until she was on his lap. “Doesn’t mean we can’t do other things, though.”

“What other things?” she asked, once again biting her lip, but this time it was with expectation and excitement and Henry’s smile turned absolutely filthy.

“How about I show you?” he pulled her close for a kiss, his hands falling to her ass to grind her against his waking erection.

---

Her chest felt tight, her lungs barely managing to expand enough to gather oxygen under the constriction of her white dress. She was dizzy, half of it was excitement, the other half the effects of all the sparkling wine she consumed that night. One of the happiest of her life.

Henry’s fingers slowly worked the row of buttons on her back, pulling them out of the little cases as he kissed and nipped at her neck, dragging small giggles and shivers out of her, which he replied with throaty chuckles, his thick fingers less than coordinated against the small pearl buttons.

“You look stunning,” he whispered against her temple, making her smile. “But you’ll look even better without this dress. Can I just rip these fucking buttons?”

“No!” she exclaimed, batting his hands away.

He had undone most of the higher ones, which she usually struggled with, so it was just a matter of working the lower buttons, which she could do it without looking. She wanted to keep the dress along with all the memories of this day.

Once the last button was undone, she pushed the straps off her shoulders, letting the dress pool around her ankles in a sea of tulle and silk while she stood in her white lace underwear, garter belt, and stockings.

Henry’s gaze was dark and heavy as it traveled over her curves, the blue of his iris sudden deeper than before, his chest heaving beneath the crisp white shirt of his tuxedo as he finally returned his eyes to hers and smirked.

“I told you, you would look better without it,” he said, coming closer and lifting her from the circle of her skirts and into his arms. “Wife.”

“Husband.” She grinned at him, heart thundering in her chest.

It had been a year since she met Henry. So little time, but she couldn’t picture spending even a second without him. Most of their friends and family thought they were moving too fast, but what was the point in waiting when she knew she found the man she would love for the rest of her life? She was just glad Henry thought the same.

He settled her in the middle of the bed, kneeling between her legs as he contemplated her. There was lust in his eyes, yes. They had been waiting for this moment for too long. There was also that familiar shine that she had grown to associate with love and it never failed to make her breath catch in her throat and warmth spread through her chest, her affections clear in her smile as Henry leaned closer, his lips meeting hers for a sweet kiss.

“If you’re not sure just yet…” he offered, tone careful and she chuckled.

“Honey, I think we’ve waited long enough.” She brushed her fingers over his smooth cheek and jaw, smiling up at him. “I want this. I want you.”

He smiled too, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, before he straightened up again, undoing his bowtie, shirt, the cummerbund, finally his trousers. She had seen Henry in several states of underdressed before, both in person and in movies and tv shows. However, there was something about watching him undressing for her, on their wedding night, that just set her heart racing, made butterflies flutter in her belly, and heat rush through her veins. This was all hers. He was all his.

Other people might admire from afar and wish they could have Henry. They could even play pretend with him for the cameras, but this? That hooded stare and parted lips sucking a desperate breath as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock? That was hers and hers alone.

She sat up, letting her hand explore the plains of his chiseled chest; fingers running over the coarse chest hair, moving lower as they followed their path to the bush of nesting around his shaft, still only half-hard, but slowly coming to full erections as she stroked him. Her thumb brushed against the head, gathering the pre-cum and smearing it over his thick and generous length, enjoying the tiny little grunts escaping his lips as Henry threw his head back and thrust against her fist.

“Fuck! That feels good,” he sighed, blinking down at her. “But you know what will feel even better?”

Instead of answering with words, she shifted her position, laying on her stomach, head coming to face his cock, and Henry groaned combing his fingers through her soft curls as she looked up at him through her lashes. They had touched each other and even came to completion rubbing against one another, but she had never done this.

Her tongue snaked out, running up his hot head and he sighed again, gripping tightening only slightly as she tasted him, her nose scrunching up at the flavor. She ran her tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock and Henry groaned.

She might be inexperienced, but she knew what she was doing. She wrote plenty about it and from the dirty things she whispered in his ear while watching him jerk off, she knew what Henry would like.

She wrapped her lips around his head, sucking lightly and Henry sat back on his heels, hand holding onto the duvet to keep himself from thrusting into the delicious heat as she took him inch by inch into her mouth, her nails digging on the muscle of his thigh as she steadied her breathing and paused as his head brushed the back of her throat.

“Fuck!” he hissed, meeting her doe eyes as she stared up at him, mouth stretched wide with his girth, cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard, bobbing her head up and down on his length.

Part of her wanted him to come on her tongue, discover what he would taste like, but they would have time for that. Right now, she wanted to feel him stretching her cunt just as he had done with her mouth.

Just the thought of it was enough to make that ache between her legs increase. She pressed her thighs together against the wetness gathering on her panties. Pulling back from his cock, she gasped for breath and brushed off the saliva dripping off the corner of her lips before she met Henry’s hungry stare.

She had seen that look before, the desperate want in his eyes as they went a little too far and had to stop and regain control of themselves so to keep their promises. Not tonight, though. Tonight, they didn’t need to stop themselves.

Kneeling in front of him, she let Henry pull her forward, claim her lips for a wild kiss that was all teeth and tongue and made that ember in her center burn bright, the flames growing and licking the rest of her nerves-ends as his fingers dipped into her panties, stroking her folds and spreading her juices.

Henry swallowed her keening cries in a kiss as he pushed two fingers, working her loose and driving her to the edge. The heel of his hand pressing down on her mound, rubbing her clit, his other hand playing and teasing her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples until she was quaking in desperation and making her see stars as her first orgasm washed through her.

“You’re going to feel so fucking good around my cock,” he said against her lips, as she recovered from the brink of her pleasure, heaving and shaking against his torso, his fingers still buried inside her cunt while her walls pulsed and quivered, squeezing him tight.

“Henry...” she whimpered, meeting his eyes. “Can I be on top?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

Maybe it was the high of endorphins, but she didn’t feel nervous at all. She had wanted this for so long, pictured it in so many different ways, positions, and results, but in the end, she just wanted to become one with Henry.

Pushing him back until he was lying down, she got to her knees and reached for the clasp holding her stockings, but Henry caught her hand, making her stop.

“Leave them on?” he asked with a smirk. “You look so hot like that. My pretty little virgin, all in white.”

“Ok,” she smirked at him, straddling his stomach, rubbing her covered slit over his erection, making Henry feel the mess of fluids he left behind when he made her cum in her panties. “Is this how you want it, babe?” she asked, pushing the fabric aside so she could bring his cock to her entrance.

“Yes,” he grinned, grip tightening over her thighs as she rubbed his tip over her folds. “Fuck, you already feel so good.”

Oh, so very slowly, she sunk on his cock. Henry was huge, she knew from the very beginning. She knew it might hurt because he was so big, but she didn’t expect it to be like this. The burning discomfort as he stretched her cunt, making tears prick on the corner of her eyes, her fingers digging on his abs.

“Breathe, love,” Henry encouraged, rubbing soothing circles on her thighs, the little frown of worry deepening as he watched her face scrunching up and listened to her low whines. “You’re doing so good, we’re almost there.”

She paused once he was fully sheathed in her heat, her walls tightening around him almost painfully as she rested against his chest, trying to adjust to the intrusion. Cheek pressed against his heartbeat, as Henry ran his fingers up and down her spine, making her shiver and melt against him as she relaxed.

“I think I’m ready,” she spoke after a few moments, the discomfort receding and leaving one the alien feel of being so full. “You can move.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, thumb under her chin, making her look up. “We can wait.”

“I’m sure, Hen,” she smiled at him and he nodded, slowing rolling his hips and she gasped as she could feel his ridges and veins rubbing against her walls, creating delicious friction.

Henry took his time to pick up his pace, listening to her noises to guide him through it, bringing her lips to his to distract her from any leftover discomfort as he started broadening his movements, pulling almost all the way out to push back in, making her mewl against his mouth as she grew so wet again, her hips rocking back against his.

“How does it feel?” he asked with a smirk, the bliss out the expression on her face answer enough, but Henry wanted to hear her.

“So, fucking good,” she gasped, raising her torso and starting to bounce on his cock, meeting his thrusts. “Don’t stop.”

With a grin, Henry increasing his speed, meeting her thrust for thrust until she was panting and moaning, her head throwing back, one hand on his chest for support, the other on her breasts pulling them out of the lace of her bra so she could play with them.

“Harder,” she whimpered, lower lip between her teeth and Henry complied, snapping his hip up in salvage thrusts as she cried out, a wide smile in her lips especially when he brought his thumb between them, working her clit.

She could feel the building pleasure in her center again, all-consuming, pushing all thoughts aside from her mind except the desperate need for release. Her entire body felt taut and tense in expectation as the tendrils of ecstasy started growing and spreading, taking hold of everything until she was pulled too tight and, like an elastic band, it snapped and she came with a shout of Henry’s name.

Blood rushed through her ears, stars busted behind her lids. Her entire body felt surrounded by static and each touch of his skin against hers seemed to drag out her high even longer and she couldn’t focus on anything else. She felt sleepy and boneless as Henry kept fucking her, chasing his own release, his grunts barely registering in her foggy mind.

Not until he stilled again, groaned her name, pulling her tight against him and she could feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside her; the warmth of his cum coating her walls it strange but arousing the thought of having Henry so deep inside her.

They stayed wrapped together, catching the breath and recovering from their highs when Henry spoke:

“Aren’t you glad we waited?”

“Not really,” she giggled, tilting her head to look at him. “We could’ve been doing this for the last 11 months.”

“True,” he chuckled, bending down for a kiss. “Guess we have to make up for the lost time, then.”

“Good thing we have two weeks all to ourselves,” she said. “And we’re not leaving this bedroom.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cavill.”

xxx

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bogkeep · 4 years

Text

hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on... there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

#rambles #i wrote this for me and theres no obligation to read it

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p---ink · 4 years

Text

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything. But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK!

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc.

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second.

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues.

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple.

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground.

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own.

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars.

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else.

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections.

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones. Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for?

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?”

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper.

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention.

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say.

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well.

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him?

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing.

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar.

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—”

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.”

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through.

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you.

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course.

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it, their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business.

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?”

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you.

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you.

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen.

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head.

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed.

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs.

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast.

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions.

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your cooking.

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger.

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms.

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles.

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves.

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly.

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.”

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off.

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle.

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground.

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy.

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots.

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks.

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy.

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it. You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning.

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay.

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on.

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you.

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before, used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper.

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more.

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered.

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke.

“Please let me cum Tony.”

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter.

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do.

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point.

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago.

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself.

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to.

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout.

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure.

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles.

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead, as Tony continued his case.

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back.

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.”

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it. “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet. Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue.

“Everything is going to be fine.” You assured, gazing up at him.

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car.

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled.

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal.

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them. As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much.

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted.

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.”

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you.

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could.

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking.

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up.

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom.

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones.

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought.

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured.

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it.

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it.

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.”

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you.

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror.

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway.

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date.

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking.

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time.

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone, “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave.

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head.

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips.

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle.

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy.

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city.

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out.

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours.

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while.

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him.

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him.

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained.

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time.

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter.

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now.

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.”

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.” You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself.

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.”

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash.

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table.

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold.

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time.

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this?

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now.

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss.

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude.

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet.

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?”

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it. You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes.

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?”

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease.

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home.

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you.

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly.

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.”

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes.

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony.

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled.

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.”

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual.

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart.

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies. Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you.

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin.

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been.

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat.

A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To @swaggysposts @scarletsoldierrr I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think! PART 3 here

#tony stark smut #Tony stark angst #black reader #Marvel Smut #Tony Stark x reader

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itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 4 years

Text

Doctor’s Orders.

A/N: Hi everyone, this fic is a crossover between Criminal Minds and CSI New York, so I hope you enjoy. Just before you do, I’d just like to do a little shout-out to @g0ldengubler who proof read some of this fic for me. I won’t be publishing a lot now, as I have a lot of University work and exam to prepare for, but I’ll still be online! My requests for Matthew Gray Gubler and Spencer Reid are still open, as is my taglist!

Triggers: Shootings at Churches/religious places, swearing, sex/smut (implied)

“Right my darlings, today I am taking you to New York.” Garcia said “Ooh, all expenses paid?” Emily asked all excited. “Case.” Hotch said as everyone groaned, in desperate need for a holiday. “There has been a series of shootings at Churches, and every time a family sadly dies.” J.J says, “They get shot and well, you get the idea. Detective Mac Taylor called us for help.” “I thought the NYPD would be able to solve this, they’re all really smart.” Spencer said “They are, but they need our help in bringing the unsub, or unsubs down. They don’t know who they are looking for.” Penelope said, “Now go crime fighters, the plane leaves in an hour.” “Bye baby girl.” Morgan said kissing Penelope’s cheek. “Come back safe my darlings.” Penelope said waving goodbye to them as they got in the lift “God I love that woman.” Morgan smiled “Speaking of women, Reid, you single?” Rossi asked Spencer looked up from his book and his cheeks flushed. “Yes. I don’t see how that is relevant.” “Maybe we can get you a pretty lady on the next team night out, or maybe even whilst we are in New York. I mean, we need to get you a girl.” J.J smiled “Yeah, we need another girl we can take on girls night.” Emily said “Maybe we can see if we can get the vacancy filled for a new agent on the team whilst in New York.” Hotch said, agreeing with J.J and Emily, but tried to think of a professional response. “I didn’t realise we had the budget for a new agent, I would have got a new type of coffee if I knew.” Rossi said “Not everything is about coffee Rossi.” Morgan said “It is when you are Italian.” Rossi said and got out of the lift. Spencer rolled his eyes at his co-workers and picked up another book. He did agree he needed to get out there but wanted to when he was ready. On the plane “My darlings, there’s been another church shooting. Mac Taylor will meet you with Detective and all-round forensics & Detective and Doctor Y/N Y/S/N will be there too, oh, and her PhDs are in Mathematics and Chemistry, same as genius baby.” Penelope said on the phone providing more details. “Thank you Garcia.” Hotch said and hung up. “Did someone enjoy researching the detective?” Morgan texts Garcia “That’s classified chocolate thunder and you know it. ;)” Penelope replied “Reid, Rossi go with Agent/Doctor Y/N Y/S/N and see what they have so far. J.J, Emily and Morgan with me and Mac Taylor when we get off the plane.” Hotch said. “Aaron Hotchner, Dr Y/N Y/S/N, we spoke on the phone. This is Detective Mac Taylor.” You say and do handshakes with everyone except the cute curly haired one. “It’s actually safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said to you after introducing himself to you. “Nice to meet another Doctor.” He smiled You smile back, “You too Dr Reid.” “You can call me Spence if you like.” Spencer smiled as J.J and Emily give each-other ‘the look’ and text Penelope. “And you can call me Y/N or Y/N/N. I only let special people call me my nickname though.” You wink and Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Special people kid. She likes you.” Rossi winked Spencer rolled his eyes and went with you, Hotch and Mac to the office to discuss the case so far. “Would you like some coffee? The flight must’ve been a long one.” You say putting the machine on. “Only 1 hour, 12 minutes.” Spencer smiled “He means yes, we’d love some coffee.” Rossi said as Spencer gave him a ‘What?’ facial expression “Here you go.” You smile. “Sugar and milk are on the table behind you. I got some donuts earlier, there were more but I had a sugar craving.” “Thank you Y/N, this is perfect. We don’t normally get food.” Spencer said picking up a donut “Rossi, could you join Hotch and I to go through some forensics?” Mac asked “Sure.” Rossi said and left the two Doctors to it. “They seem to be getting on. Y/N/N is my best detective.” Mac smiled at Rossi, “But she doesn’t have much of a life outside of the job. She’s only 28 and started here at 16 as an intern.” “I could say the same about Spencer, and he’s 30 but he started at the FBI when he was 22.” Rossi said as he looked at some evidence under the microscope. “So, what are your PhDs in Y/N/N?” Spencer smiled at you even though he knew the answer. “Maths and Chemistry, but I want to go for one in History next. What about you Spence?” You ask as the team walk back in. “Oh me too! Well, not the History bit.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Look guys, Dr Y/S/N brought us donuts.” He said “Ooh good, I’m starving.” J.J smiled grabbing one. You, Mac and the FBI went through the case, and the team went through their profile. “You keep staring at him.” Mac whispered to you “Who?” You whisper back “Dr Reid.” Mac whispered as your cheeks flush, maybe you have got a crush on him. “Is it that obvious?” You whisper Mac nods and you go back to listening. “So, you think it’s a foster kid then?” You chat to Emily and J.J who have taken a shine to you. “Yeah, we have seen it before.” Emily said “I’m sorry.” You say “Don’t be Y/N. We’ve all seen terrible things.” J.J said “I’ll drink to that.” You say “Once the case is over, we should all go for a drink.” Rossi said “That’d be good.” Hotch said You and Spencer nod and continue reading some old case files that Penelope sent. “This is interesting. Drew Smith was in and out of care all his life, and all of his foster families said he was sweet at first but then turned into the devil. Could he fit the profile Spence?” You ask, handing him the file. Spencer reads it in all of 30 seconds. “Yeah. Definitely. Hotch?” He asks. “Y/N has a theory.” “Put me on the spot why don’t you?” You giggle at Spencer, “Mac?” You ask and the two teams listen to you. “Look at Spencer giving Y/N the googly eyes.” Morgan smirked to Rossi. “She’s smart and beautiful, he had better ask her out. Or Hotch better ask her to join us.” J.J said looking at Hotch in the eye “Plus she has a gun and a badge already. She wouldn’t need training.” Emily said agreeing with her co-workers. “She’s Mac’s best detective, he won’t give her up easy.” Rossi said You finish delivering your theory. “I’ll have a word with Mac once the case is over.” Hotch says after hearing the teams discussion. “Y/N, could you go with Spencer and Flack to see if you can bring in Smith? Make sure to take your gun though.” Mac asked, “If that’s okay with you Hotch.” “Yes, that is fine.” Hotch said as the girls and Morgan smirked at each-other. You nod biting your lip and go to your desk to get your weapon Spencer follows you, noticing a photo of you and the NYPD team at Halloween dressed up, but you look very young. “When was this?” Spencer asked you. “Oh, the year the NYPD offered me a paid job. I started here as an intern at 16 and worked my way up. I got a paid detective internship at 18 that means I’ve been here 12 years this year. That’s a fucking long time.” You chuckle putting your hoodie on. Spencer nods. “Definitely. I’ve been at the FBI for 8.” “You ready Y/N? Dr Reid, right? I’m Flack.” Flack asks putting his hand out to Spencer. “He doesn’t do handshakes.” You smile, remembering his germaphobia. “It’s safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said “But we’ve kissed before Y/N.” Flack smiled at you Spencer immediately feels jealous, and he doesn’t understand why… Maybe he does fancy you. “Yes, on the cheek as my best friend.” You smile as Flack wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Let’s roll.” “Is it me or did Spencer look jealous then?” Morgan smirked “Yes. Definitely.” Hotch said Mac laughed. “Flack has a girlfriend. I can tell Y/N likes Spencer. She’s like a daughter to me, but I am terrified of her sometimes.” Rossi laughed, “We are terrified of Spencer sometimes.” In the car “Turn left you fucker.” Flack laughed as you took the wrong turn. “I turned left.” You smirk “You turned right.” Spencer said laughing at your banter with Flack. “You may be a Doctor Y/N, but you are shit at listening for directions.” Flack said “You may need my Maths skills one day you bell-end and if you hadn’t noticed, the sign said no left turn.” You smirk and arrive at Smith’s apartment. “Maybe listen to your doctor.” Spencer smirked “Ah she knows I’m messing with her.” Flack smiled as he got out of the car. “She’s like my little sister.” “And you’re my dickhead of a big brother.” You say and park up. “I miss when you were 16 and didn’t answer back.” Flack laughed as some shots were fired, you all quickly put vests on as Flack kicks down the door. “I see you have your own Derek Morgan.” Spencer thought to himself “Freeze! NYPD and FBI! Lower your weapons.” You announce, as Smith tries to run but you trip him up. “Got you, you son of a bitch. Oh, and you have a little weed farm here too, we better add that to the murder charge.” “Murder?” Smith says as Flack puts him in cuffs. “We got Smith and we need a crime scene team here ASAP.” You say calling it in. “Don’t play dumb with us asshole.” Flack said putting him in the car. Back at the office, Mac and Hotch are talking to Drew, whilst the rest of your team and the FBI compare notes before they interview him.

“Do they always say no comment?” Emily asked you. “Yeah, or a string of swear words.” You shrug Spencer came in holding two cups of coffee. “Thanks pretty boy.” Morgan smiled reaching for the cup “Oh it’s not for you it’s for Y/N/N.” Spencer smiled handing you a cup “Ooh thanks Spence.” You smile taking the cup. Morgan looked at Spencer, “You always buy me coffee.” He said pretending to be a little hurt. “Well, in the 8 years I’ve been at the FBI, you have only brought me coffee 8 times, and I have brought you coffee 16 times. Y/N/N however brought me coffee and donuts upon our first meeting therefore she has the advantage over you.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Is that the way to your heart Spence? Buy you donuts?” You ask Spencer nodded smiling as the team give each-other ‘the look’. “Here’s that file you asked for.” You say to Hotch after it finally prints, it’s about 30 pages in total. “Reid... Can you?” Hotch asked Spencer sighed and took the file. “I’ll give you the DL.” He said “DL?” Hotch asked “Downlow, summary.” You say assuming that is what Spencer meant “I was trying to be cool.” Spencer mumbled “You are plenty cool kid.” Rossi laughed “If you want answers out of him, question his foster families and experiences there.” Spencer said, “It could trigger him, but it could also get a confession. Also, he was closest to his foster Mum 5. Debbie, who passed away recently.” He handed back the file. “Thanks Dr Reid.” Mac said as Hotch nods. “Dr Y/S/N, could I have a word with you later?” Hotch asks “Yeah, sure.” You smile, wondering what it is about. “Have I done something wrong?” You ask “No, far from it.” Hotch said returning the smile “Hotch just smiled, he must really like Dr Y/S/N.” Morgan said on the phone to Penelope “Chocolate thunder, I want all the details. Keep me posted. Ciao.” Penelope giggled having done her research on you. “Bye baby girl.” Morgan says and hangs up “Y/N could you maybe give Drew a shot? He doesn’t seem to pay attention to us.” Hotch asked as he came back with Mac. “Yeah sure.” You say getting up “Hotch, this guy is huge, he could crush her with one push.” Morgan said “She can handle it.” Mac said, “You ok Y/N?” You stretch your muscles. “Yeah I’m great, just doing some stretching because it helps keep my brain limber.” You say and stretch your legs. Everyone looks at you confused, except Spencer who looks at you in awe. “Nice socks.” Spencer smiled, noticing they are mismatched. “Thanks.” You smile at your polka dot one and stripes one. “What socks are you wearing?” You ask tying your shoelace of your trainers. “One of dinosaurs and one of pumpkins. The classics.” Spencer smiled as Mac handed you Drew’s file. “Do you want company in the room?” “Nah, I’m good but you can watch from behind the glass in case I need back up.” You wink as Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Are you coming?” You ask walking to the room. Spencer gets out of his chair and follows you, as you walk you share Maths theories with Spencer. “Did anyone get a word of that?” Emily asked “The last thing I understood was their socks discussion.” J.J said shrugging “I don’t even understand half of the words she uses, sometimes, between us I have to research what she means after hours.” Mac laughed as a forensics analyst handed him something. “Y/N/N!” He called just before you walked in the room “Yeah?” You smile “Fingerprints match his. We have him.” He says and you nod as Mac goes back and tells the rest of the teams. “We got the bastard.” Morgan said “Drew, I’m Doctor Y/S/N, I just have a few more questions.” You say sitting down as Spencer watches you from behind the glass, the guy is huge. “Shoot lady.” Drew smirked “Tell me about your childhood, and Debbie.” You say “There’s nothing to tell, I’m sure that file tells you everything you need to know.” Drew said, loosing the smirk instantly. “And what about Debbie?” You ask “She was my foster Mom, the only one who liked me. But she got sick.” Drew said “That must’ve been tough.” You say, “The doctor mis-diagnosed her, didn’t he? Made you feel rage.” “Yeah but I didn’t kill anyone over it.” Drew admitted “So, why are your fingerprints on the weapon found at the last scene?” You ask “Well, that escalated fast.” Spencer says as Morgan, Hotch and Mac come into the room. “They’re not mine.” Drew said to you “Oh, who do they belong to? The guy we have downstairs for drunk driving, or the guy in the room down the hall who shot an officer with an unlicensed weapon?” You ask innocently “Is she always like this? Sarcastic?” Hotch asked “She plays dumb, because she has a baby-face they assume she’s young and not really a detective, but she can usually get them talking once she’s snapped. Just wait.” Mac smirked “Yeah, it’s one of them lady. I’m clean.” Drew says “Clean as the blood on your right breast pocket?” You ask “It’s.. It’s not like that lady.” Drew stutters covering the blood. “I wonder if it matched the blood found out the crime scene… Could get a decent sample too.” You say putting your feet up on the desk, “But if you are so innocent, that could be wine.” “Shut up lady! Calm down!” Drew ends up shouting “This is calm, and it’s doctor. Sit down.” You say calmly, “Now let me test that wine for blood.” You say, “Take off the shirt.” You say giving him a bright pink one to wear. Everyone laughs from behind the glass, “Oh she’s good.” Hotch smirked You put gloves on and do a test on the shirt. “Didn’t realise you could get human blood wine, where did you buy it?” You ask once the test comes back positive for human blood. “Is there anything she doesn’t know?” Spencer asked Mac noticing you know your way around forensics “How to get a boyfriend.” Mac said “Okay okay, I did it! I did all of them. Lock me up.” Drew said “Aww, because you asked so nicely. Get up.” You say as Drew gets up but headbutts you and kicks your knees in the process as you crash to the floor. “You’ll regret that.” You say with a busted lip and put him in cuffs as everyone runs in. “You ok?” Spencer asked you “Oh yeah, that’s nothing.” You shrug, handing him over to Mac then go to the bathroom to clean up limping a little. “That’s nothing?” Spencer asked in a slightly high-pitched voice. “Once a suspect pushed her so hard, she broke her back, had therapy and she still showed up to work in a wheelchair.” Flack said “When was this?” Hotch asked “She was 21. She’s from a rough neighbourhood so she does herself proud every-day.” Mac said “Can we have a word in your office?” Hotch asked Mack who nodded, thinking he knows where this is going. “I’m going to check on Y/N/N.” Spencer said as he eventually found the bathroom. “Hey Y/N/N, you okay?” He asks softly as you come out “Yeah. Coming!” You say walking out all patched up. “You good?” You ask “I should be asking you; you had your head butted into. You should get it checked out.” Spencer said worried “First respondent said I’m good, and for someone I met today, you seem very worried about me, it’s almost adorable.” You admit biting your lip then wince forgetting you’d hurt yourself. “Fuck.” You grumble at your stupidity as Spencer laughs “Almost adorable?” Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow “What’s going on?” Morgan asked a little too loud as Rossi, J.J and Emily were watching “Ssssh.” Emily said putting a finger to Morgan’s lips “Okay, a lot adorable.” You say blushing In Mac’s office “No, absolutely not. She’s my best detective.” Mac shouted to Hotch as he kept shaking his head, “I’m not letting her go.” “You told Rossi she needed to get out there, I think this would be great for her.” Hotch shouted back “I meant settle down, get a boyfriend, have kids. Not leave New York.” Mac said “The change would suit her.” Hotch said, “And at the end of the day it’s her decision.” J.J knocks on the door, “Hotch, we’re all going to Shaw’s for a beer. You both coming?” She smiles “We’ll be there soon.” Mac said as J.J nods, closing the door on her way out. “Regardless of what you say, I’m making my offer.” Hotch said At the bar “Any idea what they were on about in there? Shouting match or what?” You say to Spencer. “No idea.” Spencer lied, “What do you want to drink?” “Just a pint of the house beer.” You say handing over the money. “What are you doing?” Spencer asked “Er, paying for my own drink because screw the gentlemen pays.” You say “Y/N/N, you got kicked and pushed to the floor today. I can buy you a beer for that.” Spencer said, “Two pints of the house beer please.” He told the barman who nods “I’ll buy some snacks then. Whatcha want Doctor?” You ask eyeing up the fries on the menu. “Whatever you’re having Doctor.” Spencer smiled as Hotch and Mac come in, Mac still looking cross and Hotch looking smug. “Mac, what’s up?” You ask him “Nothing.” Mack lied “Don’t bullshit me. We’re off the clock.” You say to him as Mac walks off and goes outside for some air, “Just some crisps and nuts please.” You tell the barman and pay then find a seat with Spencer “Dr Y/N, can we talk?” Hotch asked just as you sat down “Yeah sure.” You say and walk off with him, leaving your drink on the table “Oooh, it’s happening.” Emily said pouring herself a glass of wine from the bottle “What’s happening?” Spencer asked sipping his drink “We’re getting a new agent.” J.J smiled Spencer smiles to himself and sips his drink. “So, Y/N. I was talking to Mac, and as much as he really doesn’t want to let you go... I’d like to make you an offer anyway.” Hotch began “Offer?” You ask “We have a position for an agent at the FBI, with us. You are overqualified, but I think you’d like it. You understand the work, and even used our terminology on your case. We don’t see that every-day.” Hotch said, “Plus you wouldn’t be in New York every-day. We travel a lot, but we are a family.” You look at Mac, and your team there, then to the FBI. You have debated about leaving for a year, not because of the people but wanting a change, and this could be the one you need. You then look at Spencer, who looks a little sad. “What if she doesn’t take it?” Spencer asked “I think she will.” Morgan said sipping his drink Suddenly, you and Hotch walk back. “Well?” Emily asked “Looks like I need a new badge.” You say with a smile Everyone cheers. “I’m sorry to see you go Y/N/N but please visit.” Mac said “Course.” You smile. “Hey, can we have a word?” Spencer asked you You nod, confused. “Everyone wants words with me tonight.” You laugh as Spencer and you go outside “Do you think?” Rossi asked “Oh yeah. Pretty boy about to ask baby girl genius out.” Morgan said “Everything okay Spence?” You ask once you get outside. “Yeah, I mean… No… I mean, want to go out with me on a date?” Spencer blurted out then gasped. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that, but I did. But if you don’t want to that’s fine.” He says going through all the emotions of a menopausal woman at once. “Every time a pretty face comes pops up your brain turns into a god damn potato. Prentiss is right, my IQ lowers from 187 to 60.” You quickly grab his arm gently. “Hey... Let me answer before you get yourself in a tizz.” Spencer calms down at your touch, which he finds strange, not really liking being touched but when you do it, it makes him feel, safe almost. “Okay... okay...” Spencer says looking at you “Yes.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “Want to sneak off and grab some pizza? I have a lot of packing to do. Hotch wants me to start in two weeks.” Spencer nods smiling as you do just that. “Where are the pretty people at?” Morgan asked noticing you’ve been a while. “I don’t think they’re coming back.” Rossi winked. “Ooooh.” Emily and J.J smirked “So, what pizza can I get you Spence?” You smile. “I’m going for four cheese.” “That’s fine with me.” Spencer smiled at you, “Does this count as a date?” “If you want it to.” You say and place your order “I do.” Spencer smiled “Me too.” You say and pay for the pizza “I should pay half.” Spencer said feeling bad “You’re good, you can always buy ice cream if you want.” You assure him Spencer nods, as you walk around New York eating pizza. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but would you like to come to my flat and have a nightcap?” You suggest as you finish your ice cream “I’d like that.” Spencer smiled, “But I’d like to do one thing first.” He said having a desire to kiss you there and then. “And that is?” You ask Spencer puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you deeply. “Oh.” You giggle, pulling away after a few moments Spencer giggles too, “Told you it’s safer to kiss.” You walk to your flat, and let Spencer in. It’s fairly small with a double bed, en-suite, a kitchen and a small library. “I don’t normally have people back to my place on the first date. But I think there’s something special about you Dr Reid.” You say locking the door once Spencer walks in and takes his shoes off. “There’s something special about you too Dr Y/S/N.” Spencer says, “Can I take a seat?” He asks gesturing to your two-seater sofa “Of course. You okay with whiskey or scotch on the rocks?” You ask getting two glasses down “Scotch please.” Spencer said looking at your bum when your back was turned You bring the glasses over and sit next to him, “Can I tell and ask you something Spence?” “Of course Y/N/N.” Spencer says, “Thanks.” He says taking the glass “It’s more of an observation, but I’ve noticed you don’t like physical touch, but when I’ve done it, you go from tense, to relaxed in seconds. Why?” You ask sipping your scotch “I feel safe around you, and I don’t feel like that around many people.” Spencer admitted “Do you want to kiss again?” You blurt out and finish your drink quickly in-case Spencer says no “I do.” Spencer smiled and finished his drink and pulled you in for a kiss

After a few more drinks, you end up having sex with Spencer.

Spencer pulled out of you gently and wrapped the condom up and put it in the bin. “That was amazing.” He says as you cuddle into his arms glad Morgan slipped him that condom earlier. Even though you were on the pill, Spencer wanted to be extra safe. You nod agreeing, “Aren’t your team wondering where you are?” as you trace little patterns on his chest with your finger. Spencer checks his phone, as a text comes through from Hotch ‘Plane leaves at 2PM tomorrow, as Mac and I have some paperwork to sort out for Y/N’s transfer. Meet us at the Police Station at 12PM.’ He then shows the text to you. You nod, “Least we don’t have to be in early.” As Mac texts you that you need to be in at 12 to sign the papers and get a new badge. Spencer smirks, as Morgan texts him, ‘You got laid didn’t you pretty boy?’ and replies, ‘Yep.’ And turns his attention back to you. “You comfy?” He asks wrapping the duvet over your shoulder You nod, “Stay the night if you want.” “Doctor’s orders?” Spencer asked “Doctor’s orders.” You yawn and fall asleep as does Spencer. Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up , @trina2323 , @goldentournesol , @jenna-jd , @reidgraygubler , @g0ldengubler , @gcblers , @peachpitfics

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #csi new york #aaron hotchner #donald flack #mac taylor #david rossi #spencer reid #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #my fics

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gypsydanger01 · 4 years

Text

THE STORM - Part thirteen

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

A/N: So here’s a short chap with Sarah and Martha hanging out. I want this series to slowly build up to what I have planned, since it’s highly unrealistic for either of them (BN and OC) to immediately and blindly trust each other. BN might be taken by her, but he’s not stupid. Next chapter will have more BN!!

Black coffee and light reading

It had been a couple of days since he’d last seen her, and Noir was growing restless. He’d left for an energy drink commercial he was supposed to star in and was very close to beheading the film director who had him endlessly repeating his scenes. He was disgusted by their superficial ways, this façade they all hid behind. He was no movie star or celebrity. He was a killer.

Kevin, the scrawny man directing the scenes called out, “And cut.”

Noir immediately stepped back into his usual strict posture as the smaller man moved towards him.

“I really liked this one,” he praised excitedly, “but why don’t we try this again? We want it to be intense,” he emphasized, “—keep viewers on the edge of their seats.”

The large, masked man stared down at him for a few seconds, enjoying the way Kevin grew visibly uncomfortable. As the director began trying to convince him, Noir simply moved past him and walked off. You don’t want to see intense, he thought.

Making his way through rows of props and sets, he reached his trailer and decided he didn’t feel like holing up in the cramped space for the rest of the day. Instead, he kept walking until he’d left the film set behind.

Soon, he reached a wooded area and delved inside, exploring the small dusty path curling through the tall trees. He imagined that Sarah was there with him, her small hand curled in his. Who was she? Was her name Sarah, or rather Marianna? Was she spying on Vought? He thought back to the night he followed her to the club, and he’d seen her burn the shape of her fingers into the man’s wrist. Noir was left stunned, and slightly impressed, but he couldn’t shake the doubt clouding his mind. He was meant to keep Vought’s enemies at bay, by picking them off one by one if they got too close. Was she the next threat they’d point out?

His mind drifted back to their evening in her backyard, soaking in the moonlight that filtered through the passing clouds. When he’d first seen her at the gala, he’d found her spectacular. She moved with grace and purpose, and her bright smile had immediately caught his attention. But now he’d gotten a glance behind the curtain and realized there was so much more. She was enigmatic, magnetic. He saw the heaviness of her shoulders, the maturity in her dark eyes. She was an observer, taking in her surroundings in a meticulous and rather calculating manner—just like him. There was a fatigue that lingered in her eyes, and her constantly being cold concerned him. But he could see the fire behind it all. She was hiding away under a façade of innocence and presented herself as small, vulnerable. He had a feeling she was anything but.

She intrigued him, and it was the first time he found himself so involved in another individual’s life and well-being. That night under the stars, he’d seen her on edge, lost at sea.

He hoped she was doing well.

It had been a few days since Sarah had seen Noir, and she wondered if something had happened. She wished she didn’t mind but was surprised when she found herself missing his presence. He was quiet, and yet reassuring. If only they could communicate more directly.

That morning, Sarah and Martha had taken a day off for the quirky blonde’s birthday. They’d decided to go to a local bookstore and coffee shop for a warm drink and pastry before heading off to visit her parents. The two women visited the petite shop every chance they got, always pleased with the homey and warm atmosphere oozing from the book-covered walls.

Once they’d settled down at a small table near the large windows, they ordered and chatted about anything and everything under the sun.

“How did your date with Dave go?” Sarah asked while taking small sips off her coffee.

Martha shook her head, “I was trying to avoid it.”

“Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad—"

“—Worse”

Sarah caught the mischief in Martha’s eyes and knew she was messing with her.

“So, what happened?”

“Well, you see what happened was—” Martha began recounting the tale, “we were sat at dinner, and he moved in really close. His hand came over to mine, and he was flirting while talking about movies…”

Sarah watched her, entirely unconvinced.

“…and then you see, he said the wrong thing,” she took a deep breath, “he said he hates transformers.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Oh for the love of God.”

Martha immediately dove into an explanation, “No, we love that movie, you and I. We used to watch it religiously every weekend—” she grew louder, while Sarah tried to quiet her down, “—and I will not take this kind of disrespect from some pretty boy.”

Sarah could do nothing but laugh at this point, her friend joining her.

After they’d grown serious, Martha attempted to draw information on the mysterious man who’d sent her, and was probably still sending her, all those gifts.

“What about your mystery man?” she began, “Are you still seeing him?”

Sarah waved it off, “Not really, it’s been a few days—”

“—a few days” Martha exclaimed.

Sarah drew herself into a professional posture.

“Oh, don’t go all Mallory on me now, just give me some details,” she asked, “please?”

Sarah thought on it, and ultimately decided that feeding her friend some details would do no harm, as long as she kept the man’s identity out of the picture.

“Well, we watched Die Hard together—”

“—like Netflix and chill?”

“No,” Sarah grew flustered, “just let me finish, you can run through your list of questions when I’m done.”

Martha smiled and nodded, deciding to not torture her until the end of the story.

“He’s a fan of Die Hard so we decided to do a movie night…” she trailed off. “And it was nice. Unexpected, but nice,” she continued, her mind straying to his uncovered hands, him pulling her into his chest for a chaste kiss on her head.

“Hey, you there,” Martha asked with a knowing look.

“And a couple nights ago he showed up and we watched the moon from the backyard,” she recounted, avoiding as much detail as possible.

Martha looked at her unimpressed, “Is that seriously the best you can do? Come on, tell me about him,” she pressed, “I want to know how you feel about him.”

“I honestly don’t know yet,” she sighed. “And he’s just…” she searched for the right word, “Unexpected.”

Martha rolled her eyes, “Okay unexpected—got it. Describe him.”

“He’s very tall, and strong. A bit dark and brooding," she almost snorted at the understatement. "And he’s quiet you know—doesn’t speak much. But he’s a reassuring presence, good-mannered and,” she faltered thinking back to him pulling her chair out for her, or insisting he wash their cups. “Kind, I guess.”

“So, he’s not stalkerish?”

Definitely. “No, not at all. Nothing worth worrying about,” Sarah reassured her.

Martha watched her carefully, “Okay. I guess that’s enough to keep me satisfied for a couple days, but I want the deets, girl.”

Sarah laughed, relieved they were closing the subject, “Of course.”

She looked down at the black coffee in her cup, her thoughts wondering off to their quiet encounter under an equally pitch-black sky.

Martha snapped her fingers, “I want to stop by Sephora before we leave, so drink up,” she winked, “I’ll get the check.”

And with that the blonde smoothly stood from her chair and headed towards the cute guy at the counter.

Sarah couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s antics. She quickly downed her coffee ready to leave the table, when the spine of a book beside her caught her attention. “Sign language for beginners.”

Conflicted, she stared at it. He might not even come back. Maybe he thought she was weird after that night in her awful backyard. Still, she let her hand move forward and pull it from the neat rows of thick volumes. It looked worn, as if it had been used extensively. She found it oddly comforting.

Finally reaching the front counter, she cut into Martha and the man’s flirtatious conversation holding up the book in her hand. She payed, and the two women finally left.

Once outside, Martha eyed her friend questioningly.

“What?”

“Why are you learning sign language," she asked. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, I was just wondering—is there any particular reason?”

Sarah kept her expression light and unreadable, “Just interested.”

I’m so stupid, Sarah thought to herself as she found herself hoping he’d return. So stupid.

Martha accepted her friend’s answer, and they hurried off ready for the rest of their day.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx

#the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #black noir #the boys season 2 #fanfiction #oc story #black noir x oc #romance

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wexhappyxfew · 4 years

Text

| CHARACTER STUDY |

>> Private Daniel Jackson [Saving Private Ryan]

>> Sergeant Hazel Parker [The Soldier of Stars - Band of Brothers Fic]

A little while ago, I was talking to Linda ( @wecomrades ) and she had just read of a portion of one of my Band of Brothers fics, The Soldier of Stars, where it portrays my main OC, Hazel Parker, who is a sniper, as whispering prayers each and everytime she shoots her rifle. And so she sent me a message, saying how it was very similar to Private Dnaiel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan. And I was like, OMG THATS WHO SHE IS BASED OFF OF! And well here we are!!

When I first started drafting The Soldier of Stars, it was under a different title, had more characters instead of my 3 now, and was sorta a mess, but I cleaned it up with help from a few writer friends. But Hazel always stayed the same - derived from the character of Private Daniel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan was what I always wanted to go for!! And I did!! For a while I had been planning a sort of almost character study to show Hazel’s similarities to Jackson, but never got the time. But now since our discussion, I have been more inclined than ever to finally do one!! Private Daniel Jackson is also my favorite Saving Private Ryan character, and I just KNEW I had to go along with it!! So without further adieu, please enjoy if you wish!! It’s not much, as I don’t want to spread this out, but it’s my general thought process that I had creating the tiny lil sniper I ADORE with all my heart - Hazel Parker. 💛

INTRODUCTION + BACKGROUND

When I first created Hazel Parker as a character, I wanted to create a quiet, introverted character that people of the more introverted side of the fandom could relate to - who was also a strong female character in her own ways, and also a pretty badass sniper :) So I drew inspiration from Private Daniel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan, pretty heavily - similar ways of seemingly approaching the war, firing their weapon and saying prayers to accompany it, being religious, sort of an quieter personality (they can do their job and do it well). I drew multiple different things from Private Daniel Jackson to add to Hazel Parker as a person and the outcome was exactly what I had hoped to get!

(1) This Is Just Pure Irony

When Hazel Parker was simply just an idea, with no name, no face claim, nothing really, I just spent time watching war films, gathering ideas, personalities, all of that. The name came to me one night a few minutes before I fell asleep and I really just loved the name ‘Hazel Parker’ together, because I felt it was fairly unique, yet it worked for many, many reasons. And then I went and rewatched Saving Private Ryan and found something out that I LOVED and still LOVE to this day.

The man who was up with Private Daniel Jackson in the bell tower was named Private Parker. And I honestly just love the irony and connection between that, because then I went and created my own Private [Hazel] Parker. I just loved it because Hazel is based off Private Jackson and then there was that connection and I just loved it! :)

(2) Religion

Private Daniel Jackson is described as a ‘devout Christian’ and he wears a cross as well as whispers prayers directly from the [King James Version] Bible before shooting his Springfield in combat, which is something paralleled with what I made Hazel do as well as a Christian.

As a child, Hazel had nowhere to look after her father left and Faith and God were really the only things she could follow after and look to, to guide her she felt because there was nowhere else to go and she felt so lost. This follows her into the war year with Easy Company and eventually into postwar.

But I used her description of being Christian to show the morals she held in war almost constantly and how she viewed the war and how God was with war.

One of the most pivotal scenes to describe this moment is between Hazel Parker and Shifty Powers in Bastogne (two who grow to become close friends), where Hazel is talking about how ‘God tells her to love her enemies’, but how can she do that when the enemy does cruel things such as this war? She has a power struggle with her Faith in God and in the reality of war and I present this struggle in many different situations - yet she still remains faithful in the end, which I love. God was there for her through her childhood and through war and she respects that.

(3) Prayer Whispers

Just like what I mentioned above, a bit, actually is the fact that like Jackson, Hazel is a Christian and similarly whispers prayers before each shot she takes in battle. For how morally coded she is, she is not a fan of death but knows she can not avoid it and whispering a prayer for the life she takes it better than saying nothing in her stance, wishing them well in the afterlife and hope God protects her afterwards for what she has done and committed.

Private Jackson - Psalm 25:2

“ O my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.”

Corporal Hazel Parker - Not Specified

“ By God, rule me and guide me, ever this day, be at my side, to light and to guard.”

The examples above are just two excerpts of what both tend to say throughout the course of the book and movie and I think this was the major connection that many people made throughout the course of The Soldier of Stars was how Hazel reminded them of Private Jackson. And I felt super happy that in the end, that was what I had initially hoped for when I had started. It was a nice feeling to have.

(4) Motives

For me, I felt their motives were also very similar - that is Private Jackson and Corporal Parker.

In my own interpretation from when I saw Saving Private Ryan, Private Jackson just seemed like the sort of guy, who was there for his friends, highly caring, highly intelligent and skilled, he knew his place, and he had this sort of persona about him that said ‘I’ll go where ever the war takes me, as long as this rifle is in my hand.’ and Hazel is VERY similar to that in many senses.

Hazel Parker, who doesn’t exactly know her place in the beginning of the fic eventually does find her place, and then remains reliable, intelligent, skilled and focused in her position as she does so - along with the idea of ‘Wherever I go in war, I want my rifle in my hand.”

( Might I mention that both shoot with Springfield rifles ;) )

Even though Private Jackson has much more confidence than Hazel does, his confidence is just an outward confidence of her inward confidence. He speaks it, saying he could kill H*tler from a mile away. Now, Hazel would never say that, but she sure could easily think that. She knows by the middle of the book really she’s good and doesn’t need to say it, she just needs to have that confidence in herself - but it is a very similar sort of confidence overall.

(5) Just some Fun Facts!

It is said that Private Jackson was born in West Fork, Tennessee and I, coincidentally made Hazel Parker also born in Tennessee in Pigeon Forge! They have a bit of the Southern Charm.

Like I mentioned above - they both shoot with the exact same sort of Sniper Rifle - the M1903A4 Springfield Rifle and are highly outstanding marksman that both Captain Miller and Major Winters put faith in for the two of them in their separate ways.

They tend to be able to do solo missions, sometimes with or without a spotter. The M1903A4 Springfield Sniper rifle was used by the US Army during World War 2 and feds a 5 round magazine and is bolt action. And one of the things I liked about this rifle is you didn’t always quite need a spotter for it to be in use - most snipers have a spotter with them for calculations and such - but with this rifle, it is not always required, for if you need to drop and shoot, it still is effective.

Private Jackson does this many times, such as in the very beginning on D-Day on Omaha Beach as well as a bit later on when he faces off with a German Sniper in a downpour in Neuville. And then he continues again in the Bell Tower where he meets his death.

I portray Hazel as doing a very similar thing when she attacks with Easy Company in Brecourt Manor and is positioned up in a tree, before moving to the first gun - a spotter is not required for her to be effective. She does it again in various moments through out the Normandy Campaign such as during the Battle of Carentan, where she kills from above and in the Battle of Bloody Gulch. We see her again in action in Nuenen and throughout Market Garden and into The Island again where WInters has faith to send her up along the dike away from everyone else to battle.

The last time we see her in this position is in Bastogne in various, different situations where she is effective and makes it work - one of my ALL TIME FAVORITES actually. It is her night time solo mission to recover the body of Private John Julian, which she does with success and it is I feel one of the most pivotal moments for a character like her because by then we know she can fully handle herself in many, many ways. We see a bit of her inner battle there as well which I love because her mind is highly complex, congested and always in a mind-battle, but I love it and we really get to see her inner thought for what they are.

And, I also sorta based it on Physical Appearance - neither are exactly the biggest soldiers there - as that is where Hazel got ‘Tiny’ for a nickname really, but being tiny as a sniper works for Hazel because she can move around quickly and hide away easily as well, so her build was based similarly off of Private Jackson’s.

OH fun fact - it seemed to be that when it came to Jackson’s friends, he was not afraid to quite literally kill for them, Hazel was very much made the same way.

Something that goes off of this is Hazel’s repetition of the ‘bright green-eyed, German soldier’ she killed on her first day in the early hours of the morning. He haunted her in different ways throughout the war (she had killed him with a knife which she had the entire war) and by the end we see her confront the man who shot Chuck and put the knife that killed that German, to the man’s throat. By the end she throws down the knife as a signal that she won’t let the German with the bright green eyes follow her anymore, which gave me, personally, strong Jackson vibes in a way which I loved to write :)

HEY! so this was sort of my view I took on making Hazel Parker similar to Daniel Jackson in many aspects, just taking important bits and chunks that I noticed and incorporating it like that! I really enjoyed making this and Daniel Jackson had always been a huge inspiration so I was excited to make a character similar to him!! I do this with most of my OC’s in various degrees actually, but this one was on my mind for a while so I was excited to finally do it!! Huge thank you to Linda for being so interested in this topic and hyping me up for it!! I hope you enjoyed, my friend! <3

#band of brothers #saving private ryan #bob fic #the soldier of stars #hazel parker #daniel jackson #corporal parker #private jackson #character study

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darkmindsotome · 4 years

Text

Sun and Secrets

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Kei Soejima x MC

Word count: 3,448

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #2 and 3: Applying sunscreen and Untying a bikini top.

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Sun and Secrets

One of the best things about having a boyfriend who is friends with someone that owns resorts is the fantastic locations that suddenly become available for you to take last-minute vacations in. It was also one of the drawbacks as The Resort King has a penchant for asking for payment in strange ways.

Sighing to myself I look at the small camera Kazuomi had pushed into my hands after I asked him to help with suggesting somewhere to take Kei. It filled me with a nostalgic sensation as his voice in my head told me that he would help on the condition I be sure to take lots of pictures for him.

I really didn’t know how to respond to that as it felt one step too far into the whole voyeuristic scene than I was comfortable with and I knew full well my boyfriend would be against our time together being exposed, even if it was by one of his best friends.

“We are on vacation and you are already sighing like that?” A cute English accent came from behind me. I swear this guy materialises out of thin air sometimes. Casually dropping the camera back into my suitcase, I turned to see Kei looking at me. His face was a mask of concern but I didn’t miss the playfulness in his eyes. “We came all the way here, have a whole island to ourselves and you are still not happy.”

He shook his head in mock exasperation. His soft blonde hair rippled in the breeze from the open doors that had an unprecedented view of pure white sand and impossibly blue sea. The questions remained in my mind, how long had he been standing there and how much has he actually seen?

“I am happy, I am here with you after all I wasn’t sighing because I was upset.” I replied masking how startled he had made me.

Ever since we first met this man had proved he was observant, calculating and able to predict with accuracy what was on my mind. It made my job more of a challenge than I had ever experienced before and being his girlfriend now instead of the agent sent to spy on him didn’t change the game between us much. Our jobs still meant we had secrets from each other, but it was still unnerving how few I could keep from Kei.

“Oh? You know how I feel about lies.” He came close enough to me to hook one finger under my chin tilting my head so our eyes were locked.

His crystalline gaze had a bottomless depth that easily held me in place. Elegant alabaster fingers traced the contours of my body, his touch was so slight it sent goosebumps over my skin. His perfectly crafted movements led his free hand to my neck where it rested as my pulse grew louder in my ears with the exacting pressure of his grip.

My eyes fluttered shut with the familiar chill that was him. Even in a tropical climate, he maintained his own low body temperature, it really was like he lived in a bubble of his own protected atmosphere.

He traced the artery in my neck with a single finger, giving the choker he had given me a small tug. My heart jumped as I instinctively reacted to his every move. What I once found to be suffocating had become comforting, his particular slow poison had truly infected my system.

“… Kei.” His name comes out as a breathless whisper on my lips.

“Look at me.” Opening my eyes as commanded, his sweet exotic scent that was like religious incense filled my senses. Those amber glass eyes reflected only me as they drew closer and his lips connected with mine.

“Mhm!”

It was a kiss designed to silence me. One meant to remove all thoughts and ideas, turning my mind into a blissfully blank slate that could only be coloured by him. He wanted my full attention, commanded I gave it. In return I reciprocated his kiss, giving in to his desire with a silent prayer that this wouldn’t end. As it turns out it was a prayer that was to go unanswered after he removed himself from me drawing back slowly. He left just enough of a gap between us that I could still feel him without either of us actually touching. He was a masterful tease.

“Did you find your swimsuit?”

“What?” My senses were returning to me and I only just partly caught that he was even talking to me. He didn’t miss a beat in breaking out in that knowing smile of his that told me he was thoroughly enjoying the look of euphoric fog that was probably causing me to have a funny expression on my face.

“That’s what you were coming in to find, wasn’t it? Or were you up to something? I know how sneaky you are.” He leant close just to whisper that last part. His breath ghosting over my nape as his lips brushing against my ear lobe turned my goosebumps into a widespread tinkle all over my body. As turned on as I was, I was also more than aware of what would happen if he looked in the bag on the bed.

“No! I was just looking for it.” Before he could get a better look, I called on my experience as a spy and put on a performance of coltishness. I was banking on it helping to get him to give up looking for clues that would satisfy his own curiosity.

“Alright I’ll leave you to get changed then I was just making some iced tea anyway.” Kei shrugged and left the room. I breathed a sigh of relief aware that I still couldn’t really let my guard down as he seemed to have given up far too quickly.

Truth be told I had considered going with a one-piece that had a pattern exposing sections of skin and then discovered this cute bikini and given up on it. Kei always gave me dresses that were of course his preferred colour, black. They all, however, followed a very feminine and classically vintage pattern.

Running my fingers over the fabric of the bikini top, the black ruffles caught my fingers as I adjusted the strings and tied them behind my back and neck creating the halter top. The same ruffle design was on the bikini bottoms and I tied the strings in bows on my hips completing the look.

I marvelled at how well the simple design hugged my curves. It was one thing trying it on in a store and another thing to wear it on a trip. I left my sarong draped over the edge of the bed deciding against wearing it and checked my reflection in the mirror one last time hoping Kei would love this style as much as I did. *

Kei was lounging on one of the chairs outside when I found him. The shadow of the palm leaf umbrella casting shadows over him. He was wearing a pair of shorts with an open shirt and had a book in hand quietly reading. When he noticed my arrival, he placed it down next to him and gave me a heated stare.

“I thought you would have gone for a one-piece.” Kei said leaning back even more into the shadows. It was at times like this his Princely mask slipped allowing me to catch a glimpse of that Devil inside.

“You not like this? I thought it was cute.” I pretended not to notice, evading his charms by giving a small twirl on the spot.

“It is and very exposed. Come here I’ll help you put some of this on.” Kei reached out for a bottle of sunscreen he had placed next to the jug of iced tea on the small table by the chair. Standing up he held out his hand as if he were asking for a dance, my traitorous heart still fluttered every time he did that.

“Thank you.” Having no reason to refuse I placed my hand in his allowing myself to be guided by him to the chair.

As I sat down, he brought my hand to his mouth and set gentle kisses across my fingers all the while his upturned eyes never left me. I was caught between the icy chill of his touch and the lingering warmth of his body still present on the chair beneath me.

“Now then.” He hummed with pleasure, pulling my hand towards him as he placed his other arm over my shoulder.

As Kei brought his body slowly closer my own naturally tilted flat against the chair. Every reflex I had as an agent should have been telling me this was wrong, but when it was Kei his particular brand of dominance was more a declaration of how things were meant to be rather than a show of imposing force.

There was always a way out, an escape from his clutches. He did, however, have this way of making you feel like this was where he had always been. It lulled you into an inability to do anything but simply follow his orders. It was something I had come to crave about this man. He hovered over me unmoving, pinning me beneath him easily with no effort at all.

He popped the cap on the bottle in his hands and cold white cream dripped against my flushed skin. His hand began moving in circles against my stomach as he rubbed it in, spreading it with the same polite dedication he showed when removing my stockings.

“Er… Kei?” When he said he was going to help this was not what I thought at all. My question met a blank look of complete indifference as he responded to me.

“Mhm?”

“I can do that part myself.” I lightly protested.

Watching him as he silently tended to me made me feel shameful as if I were witnessing something completely innocent and I was the only one to have such lustful thoughts. Knowing Kei as I do now, I wouldn’t be surprised at all to discover that all of my inner turmoil was part of his devilish plan.

“You wish to take away one of my privileges as your boyfriend? How cruel.” His hands slipped under the bottom of the bikini top his fingers brushing over my breasts causing me to moan and wriggle at his touch.

“Mmm…”

“Lay still for me.” He pinched my nipples in unison, my back arched from the chair. As he continued on his path of fondling and simultaneously coated me in SPF I found myself unable to move. His command was a weighty desire I wished to fulfil. “I simply cannot tolerate your beautiful skin becoming damaged. I’ll have to be sure to be very thorough.”

As I focused on the one hand still reaching up to cup my breast I became lost in his eyes now tinted dark with lust. His temperature was rising I could smell his sweet scent stronger now, sandalwood, frankincense, myrrh it was taking my senses from me. Covering them, coating them in his poison. I completely missed his other hand as it found itself poised at the apex of my thighs. The heel of his hand pressed and rubbed against the fabric and his fingers traced the outline of my entrance so close yet so far from the desired interaction and friction I wanted.

“Ahhhh…”

“Are you going to tell me now?” His honeyed voice was in my ear making me tremble more as he continued his attack.

“Tell you?” My question was met with him pinching my nipple and rolling it between his fingers. His hot breath was like fire as it scorched my neck where he sighed against it.

“Such a bad girl. Did you think I would forget? You have been harbouring thoughts of someone else haven’t you?” He retracted his hands from me causing me to let out a mewl in protest.

I knew this was something to do with earlier, I knew he had given up and left the bedroom to quickly for something not to be bugging him. His head was cast down and away from me, the mood from second ago became lost in the tropical wind. I sat up and moved closer to him, chasing him. My pulse picked up this time in a panic as I chased his hands with my own, desperate to get him to see whatever he was thinking had a reasonable explanation.

“Someone else? Kei I wouldn’t – AH!” I found myself pushed back down this time face first as my wrists we held over my head. I could feel his legs resting either side of my hips straddling me. For someone who typically didn’t take an interest in keeping fit, he was fast and agile. I could have thrown him off but I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to hurt him.

“I told you I don’t care for lies. Your body is so honest perhaps it would be quicker asking it.” His voice had taken on a gravelly tone. I knew he was fighting between his devil and himself right now. Even if he was slowly learning, it still hurt that he felt the need to hold back with me.

Still pinning my hands over my head he trailed kisses down my spine hitting every node of vertebrae as he went. I moved under him as he ground his hips into my ass revealing exactly how turned on he was.

“Mmm, Mhm… oh, God!”

“Well?” He persisted in his questioning. I swear sometimes he can be so god damned single-minded on things.

“I wasn’t thinking of someone else there’s only you.” I protested as his mouth latched on to the choker giving it a tug causing my breath to hitch at the sudden restriction on my throat.

“Really? So a certain interfering friend didn’t say something to you before we left?” I was all too aware of his lips as they trailed along the length of precious metal around my neck. I felt a faint tug at my hips and knew he had untied the bottom half of my bikini. The fresh air catching me and my arousal caused me to blush. What I didn’t notice was my top had also been liberated, until he began to wind it around my wrists.

“How did you? Oh jeez!” I cried out as he yanked on the restraints.

“You were huddled together talking so closely it was all I could do to stop myself pulling you apart.” This was Kei emotional. A man who showed none usually and even less self-awareness. This was the man I loved struggling with what he had never felt before. I felt myself shudder under him the pleasure of knowing I was trapped in his web. A slave to his desire to control, possess, dominate completely.

“He’s your friend. Kazuomi wouldn’t –” I writhed as he blew trails of air over my skin unwilling to touch me for the time being.

“You don’t know him like I do I wouldn’t let my guard down around him so much if I were you.” Kei’s voice was firm. He didn’t normally raise his voice so this display shocked me.

“I don’t think it’s him I need to worry about right now.”

“You still have the ability to talk back? I really can’t be doing my job properly.” A hand snaked up under my arm and settled on my neck, encouraging me to expose it to him as he attacked me with blistering kisses, peppering them along the side of it. As he inched his other hand between my legs over my hip, the hand at my throat moved. His fingers filling me up from both ends at once.

“Mmph!”

“Tell me.” His voice sounded like a desperate plea as he worked his hands faster in different patterns expertly destroying me. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? So… tell me.”

He pulled his fingers from my mouth the moist tips tracing their outline. I relented the information I had if for no other reason other than to try to free him from whatever images his imagination had conjured.

“He just wanted some holiday photos.”

“Oh? Shall I take some now?” His weight was still pressed over me like a blanket while the fingers that were inside me produced a familiar small camera.

“What did you!?” My eyes blew wide with shock.

“It’s a stunning view. What do you say? Shall I snap a few pictures for him now?” Kei gave a dark chuckle playfully angling the camera in my direction. I felt completely exposed, more so with the lens pointed at me than I did laying in the open-air tied up beneath him.

“No!”

“No? Is that not what you had planned on doing anyway?” He was teasing me. He had to be. The refined English gentleman seemed a million miles away from the demon currently with me.

“No! I didn’t really want to. I don’t want him to see –” I moved my arms unable to loosen the tight bindings above me.

“What a coincidence because neither do I.” Kei tossed the small camera away towards the ocean before he began drawing patterns over my skin with his fingers. “Our time alone is our time. I truly hate it when another man is on your mind. First HIM and now my friend. Are you doing it on purpose to provoke me?”

“No! I told you there is only you. You are the only one on my mind Kei. When I’m not with you I’m always thinking of you.” I was relieved to finally be free of the burden of that little secret.

I knew he would probably never forgive Boss for before, but I didn't want him to start worrying about his friends too. I should have said what had happened sooner, clearly, Kei is not the only one still learning to adjust to this relationship. My training as a self-sufficient elite agent would be harder to shift than I first thought.

“How much more are you planning on making me suffer?” Kei asks as if he were in pain.

I tried to get a better look at him only to see him in the act of stripping away his own clothes. The sunlight glistened off of his gloriously white porcelain skin. The scars on his arms fell under the shadows cast by the umbrella above. In my temporary freedom while he removed his shorts I rolled on to my back. The sight of me still bound was reflected in Kei’s eyes as clearly as if they were mirrors.

Without waiting any longer he climbed back on top of me. His face buried into my heaving chest as he gave a few pumps to his own arousal with his own hand. He kissed and sucked on the skin between my breasts before bringing himself up and supplying a passionate biting kiss. As his tongue slipped past my lips he entered me, filling me up, finally joining us together.

I have no idea how long we spent making love. We alternated between a ferocious need to slow temptation and sensual desire. Our bodies rocking together in union finding our own harmony in chaos.

I felt blissfully happy and completely boneless like jelly afterwards. Kei was unwilling to let me leave and in a change of pace, that felt out of character, wrapped an arm around my shoulders locking me to his side on the chair.

“Did I go too hard on you?” He ran his hand through my hair. The soft sensation felt great after the pounding our bodies had just taken.

“No, I’m ok.” Turning my head I nuzzled into his palm, a move that brought a smile to his face. I really loved that look.

He had picked up his glass of iced tea that was now lacking in the ice department. I watched his tilted the glass and swallowed the chilled amber liquid. A faint smell of lemon from the tea mixed with our combined scent.

“Thirsty?” Kei enquired noticing my gaze on the glass. I nodded before I had a mind to do otherwise and saw the devilish smile of his a fraction too late. His lips covered mine and the refreshing tea that was in his mouth filled mine.

“Mhm…”

Something tells me this is going to be on hell of a vacation. Not that I was going to complain, as someone once told me the road to Paradise beings in Hell.

---

#summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge

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surveys4ever · 3 years

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25.

Section 1 – Who were you?

Think back as far as you can. What is the first memory you have? I think meeting my (now) dad for the first time when he and my mom were dating. I was very upset because he was short and that’s not what dads were supposed to look like in my 3 year old eyes since my bio dad was super tall.

What is something you remember enjoying very much as a small child? Playing Barbies, watching Barney, Happy Meals, being with my grandma.

How old were you, when you made your very first friend? Probably preschool.

Are you still friends with this person today? Facebook friends, yeah. Real friends, no.

Was there a story somebody read or told you that has stuck with you? No one ever read to me after I learned to read for myself so one day I was sick and I came home and curled up with my mom on the couch and asked her to read me a Little Mermaid book I had and she did, even though I had to get up to go shit myself halfway through and it meant a lot to me at the time.

What is something you get an immense feeling of nostalgia from? Hannah Montana for some reason. It was my favorite show and we didn’t get the Disney channel so whenever we went to a hotel, nobody could tell me fuckin NOTHING because we were watching Hannah Montana whether they liked it or not.

As a child, were you a sore loser or a sore winner? I was the only child for 8 years and then the oldest after that so I never lost at anything and now when I do, I feel like I'm the biggest piece of shit loser there’s ever been. So that’s fun.

Did you go through the "naked phase"? I learned that you didn’t have to sleep in pajamas and you could just sleep naked so I did it for a while but then realized that I much preferred pajamas.

Which television shows do you watch the most as a child? I loved TV so basically all of the 90′s/early 2000′s shows there were.

Did you play with siblings, neighbourhood kids or by yourself? Either with neighborhood/school kids or by myself. I didn’t ever really have siblings who weren’t my kids, if that makes sense.

Is there something you really miss from your childhood today? I miss back when everything was simple.

Section 2 – Likes and interests

Would you ever like to try competitive pinball playing? Ummm, no.

Do you knit, crochet or cross stitch? I’m trying to teach myself to crochet.

Have you ever, or would you like to attend a gaming or comic convention? No thx.

What's your opinion on online multiplayer games? I really liked Among Us for a while there but I don’t really enjoy how rude everyone is on online games.

Do you like to go cycling? If so, where? Uh no.

Have you ever tried woodturning? If not, would you like to? Never tried it, don’t really have any desire to, but it can be relaxing to watch!

Do you enjoy drawing? If so, what do you usually draw? I do! I usually draw graphics for YouTube videos or doodle over Instagram photos, draw things to put on shirts with my Cricut, etc. I use my iPad for so many things.

Have you ever attended a painting class? If so, what did you create? I haven’t but I would like to!

How about a creative writing course? If so, did you get any feedback? I took Creative Writing literally every year it was offered in high school and I always got awards for having the top marks in the class.

What is your favourite form of exercise? No thank you.

Section 3 – People

Who is the most important person in your life (besides yourself)? My husband.

Do people generally approach you easily? I think so!

Do you get along with people well? If not, what's the problem? Yeah! I’m pretty friendly and easy going.

Do you enjoy being in crowds or do you prefer your own company? I would much prefer my own company than crowds.

Which one of your friends have you known the longest? I still talk to the girl I was best friends with in the 6th grade on occasion so like 17-18 years?

Do you find it easy to make friends now? If not, what makes it difficult? As an adult who works from home, making friends is hard as fuck.

What is something about people that annoys you? Something I've noticed in recent years is just how entitled and greedy everyone is. Everybody wants something from you or for your skills to benefit them without them putting in any work or paying you for your time. It’s just gross.

What is something about people that you really like? We have really, really harsh winters and if you ever find yourself in the ditch for whatever reason, there will be a lineup of cars stopped behind you to help you push it out or let you chill in their car while you wait for a tow truck. On the really bad blizzard days, there are groups of men in big trucks that literally L I V E to go around and help pull people’s cars out of the ditch. It’s the only time I feel like there’s actually a sense of community around here.

If you live alone, what would be your criteria for a roommate? I honestly would never have a roommate because they could either be your friend or a stranger and living with friends is a good way to ruin a friendship if your living styles aren’t similar and living with a stranger just sounds like a nightmare.

How about criteria for a spouse, if you're single? I am married but my criteria was honestly that I just wanted him to be kind and funny and I got that tenfold with my husband.

In general, what's your attitude towards people? I can’t stand to be around grumpy people. If all you do is gripe and complain about literally everything, I’m out. No thank you. Why is your hobby being angry? Take up knitting or something for christ’s sake.

Section 4 – Habits

What is something you do every day without fail? Baby talk the dog and snuggle with Beebs.

What is your typical breakfast? I’m a leftovers for breakfast kinda gal but lately I’ve been having a bagel and watermelon.

Which article of clothing do you like to wear the most? I loooove me a good baggy T-shirt and booty shorts.

Is there a TV show you watch habitually? We’re currently watching Unhhhh while we eat dinner every night, haha!

Where do you usually spend most of your day? I really only sit in 4 places--bed, the couch, my makeup/work desk, or my sewing desk. Depends on the day which one I’m at.

Is there a product that you do not want to run out of? Moisturizer. I’m a dry son of a bitch.

What is your preferred mode of transport? Car!

Do you usually have something playing in the background when you're home? Nah. I’m in silence a lot of the time.

Where do you usually get your groceries? Walmart for the bulk of it, a local grocery store for the specialty items, and Target if we ever run out of something midweek because I cannot handle Walmart more than once a week.

How often do you go to your local park? Like once or twice a month in the summer!

Which of your hobbies do you indulge in most often? Sewing and Sims currently!

Section 5 – Favourites and dislikes

What is your favourite fruit? Watermelon!

How about your favourite berry? Strawberries are the only berry I like.

Which food do you highly dislike? Fish. It’s all disgusting.

What is your favourite song, and why? I hate this question. Who can pick one definitive favorite song out of the bajillions of songs that have been written??

What is a movie you cannot stand? Anything with Seth Rogen in it, any movie that's got a 3+ after it (looking @ you, Fast & Furious), and all the fuckin’ superhero movies that have the same ‘ah yes, this undefeatable bad guy that we have absolutely no chance against and will undoubtedly kill us all--but we’re going to pull through at the last second with the power of friendship!’ plot line.

Which trait in a person do you find most appealing? I don’t know how to describe it--certain people just have that spark and you can always tell right away if they’ve got it or not and those are my favorite kind of people.

Which trait puts you instantly off? If they’re religious it’s an instant no from me, dog.

Who is an actor/actress who you dislike so much you can't watch them? I really, really dislike Tom Holland. I honestly think he’s a terrible actor.

What colour are your favourite shoes? White!

What is a smell that disgusts you to no end? B.O., on me or others. I just can’t deal with it.

Which door handle/door knob do you like the most in your home? They’re all the same.

Section 6 – Culture

What is something very typical to the culture of your home country? Apple pie and baseball are the only things coming to mind atm.

Do you enjoy art? If so, which form of art is the most enjoyable? I do! But I prefer art that you can look at and know the artist is incredibly gifted and/or has put in a ton of time and effort to master their skills. None of that million dollar paint smear on a canvas shit.

What is something about another country's culture you don't understand? I feel like other cultures take their family and their family’s approval way too seriously. That might be rich coming from someone who doesn’t have a very good relationship with their family but I just don’t understand what the point of making yourself miserable to make your family happy is.

Do you ever attend the theater? If so, which play did you see last? Last thing I saw in a theater was Shangela perform a drag show, haha!

How about the opera or the ballet? Nope.

Which dance troupe do you enjoy, if any? ...they still do that?

Do you attend concerts or gigs? If so, which band did you see last? Not as much as I’d like to as no one good really comes here very often. Last band we saw was X Ambassadors and Paramore!

Are you interested in foreign food? I’m not uninterested but I’m not super interested either.

If so, which country's cuisine do you enjoy the most? Chinese...albiet probably a very Americanized version of Chinese.

Do you enjoy stand-up comedy? If so, who is your favourite comic? I doooo! Bo Burnham and Drew Lynch are my favorites.

Do you contribute to culture in some way? If so, how? I try to? I’m an influencer so I definitely have a platform of a couple hundred thousand people. Not sure what exactly I contribute tho.

Section 7 – Charity

Do you volunteer your time to anything charitable? If so, what? Newp.

Do you donate money to any charities? If so, which ones? No. I don’t trust a lot of charities, to be quite honest. A lot of them are very shady and I’d rather donate money directly to someone who needed it rather than it getting tied up in a charity where it might never actually see the people they claim to be helping.

If you have pets, are any of them rescues from shelters? We adopted our dog from one of my husband’s coworkers but she probably would have gone to the shelter if we didn’t take her.

Do you donate your old clothes, linen etc. to charitable organizations? Yes! We almost always have a bag of donations in our trunk that we always forget to take to the thrift store when we go.

If someone you know is in need, is it in your nature to offer help? If I can, yes!

Have you ever donated Christmas presents to children of poor families? We used to do that when I was a kid.

Have you ever had to rely on other people's charity? One Christmas when I was really young I remember my parents signed up for a sponsorship through the Salvation Army where a family adopted us and bought us Christmas presents and Christmas dinner or whatever.

How do you feel about donating to charities endorsed by celebrities? I would never donate to a charity simply because it was sponsored by a celebrity but I guess its the easiest way for a charity to get the word out that they need donations.

Is there a charity you absolutely never ever will not trust? PETA, Salvation Army, Goodwill, and that breast cancer one with the horrible CEO.

Have you ever donated to a cause that had a person going door to door? No. I extra wouldn’t if someone came knocking on my door asking for money.

In general, what is your opinion on charity? I already did my rant about them, haha.

Section 8 – Entertainment

Which was the very first video game you remember playing? Ocarina of Time I believe!

Which was the very first film you remember watching? That I don’t remember. Maybe that Barney movie with the magic egg?

What is your go-to form of entertainment? TikTok usually.

Do you have a large collection of DVDs/Blu-Rays? Nah. We have a drawer but we usually stream everything.

How about music albums? Beebs collects vinyls!

Do you prefer to have your music on vinyls, tapes, CDs or digital? I prefer digital and Beebs likes vinyl.

When and where do you like to entertain yourself usually? Either the bed or the couch.

Do you ever binge watch shows? If so, what are you binging now? Usually! I’m sadly in between shows rn.

What kinds of books do you like to read, if any? I honestly don’t read anymore.

Is there a book series you're currently collecting? ..

Is entertainment something you prefer to enjoy alone or with someone else? I have my shows and then we have shows we watch together. So there’s a time and place for both!

Section 9 – Internet

Do you always have access to the Internet, wherever you go? If not, why? Yup!

Which website do you frequent the most? Website website? Google. App website? Instagram or TikTok.

Which search engine do you prefer and trust the most? Googs.

What do you use the Internet the most for? Social media or entertainment.

Do you judge people who have their phones out all the time? If so, why? Random people? None of my business. But if we’re spending time together and I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you're not paying attention to me because your nose is glued to your phone, I’m gonna be pissed.

If your connection goes down, what do you do? Go do something that’s not on the internet?

Is there something you wish you could do online that isn't possible yet? I still wish you could smell things through the internet.

Do you remember the first time you used the Internet? When was it? Yes! I believe the 2nd/3rd grade?

What was a website you used to frequent that doesn't exist anymore? I loved the Disney website with all the games.

Do/Did you ever have your own website? That was the thiiiing back in the day.

Isn't it great how much knowledge and info we have at our fingertips? It’s great but also overwhelming.

Section 10 – And finally...

What is something you consider to be highly controversial? Politics, apparently.

What kinds of jokes do you like the best? I love a good pun.

Is there a person who makes you laugh effortlessly? Oh definitely.

Which part of your body do you like the least? My eyes.

What's something random, out of context you remember from your past? I don’t do well with really vague questions.

Do you wear shoes indoors? No, I’m not a heathen.

What's the silliest thing you've worn on your body in public? I don’t think I usually wear silly things.

What's the most important thing in your life right now? Just spending time with my fam. Trying to get over this anxiety.

What is the most distant point on the planet that you've been from home? Florida.

Do you enjoy trivia games? If so, which one's your favourite? We love some Trivial Pursuit in this house!

Are you more logical or emotional? My emotions take over and then my logic brings it back in. Equal parts, baby.

#survey

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grell-writes-stuff · 4 years

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A Self Indulgent First Chapter

Enjoy...something

Words: 2,549

Genre: Young Adult / Paranormal

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

Slam!

Gasp!

And then the apathetic yell of “Walk it off, Willow!” from Coach Martin. No stopping the game or running over to make sure I’m not deprived of air or dying or something. Just “Walk it off, Willow!”

I suffer for a second with the wind knocked out of my body. My inhaler finds its way from my pocket to my hand, and while I hold the one breath I force myself into and wait for my crap lungs to jump-start again, I contemplate the most-likely-illegal play that landed me flat on my back in the middle of the field. Quarterback Tom Styles’ outstretched elbow connecting with my neck at full speed in his chase for the checkered ball and high school sports glory, clearly confusing his claim-to-fame varsity moves with a pickup game of soccer since I doubt he has the brain cells to remember the rules to two sports at once. And probably a little bit on purpose. Because he’s a dick.

My chest wheezes a little, but at least it’s something, and the weak inhales finally start to catch as a sun-freckled face appears above me and blocks out the light. Ivy offers me her hand.

“Did th-that look a-as bad as it f-felt?” I sputter.

Ivy tilts her head from side-to-side like it’s the scale measuring how uncool I am. “Worse. Very pathetic. You will die alone.” She yanks me to my feet and acts like a support in spite of the height difference.

“P-Please stop making m-me take gym with y-you.”

“Nah. It’s too funny.” She ignores my scowl. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and wait for those shitty lungs to work again.”

She escorts me – hobbling like some eighty-year-old man with spine problems and not just what will soon be a terrible, ugly bruise – toward the bleachers, empty except for the water bottles of our classmates. I’m happy enough to sit on the sidelines, not just while recovering from having all of the air robbed from my chest, but for the rest of gym class, and also forever. Ivy is equally as happy, but only because it prompts the girls’ teacher, Coach Caruthers, to scream in her booming voice:

“Hammond! Back on the field!”

Without missing a beat, Ivy responds, “In the event of moderate injury, students are allowed to have a friend or fellow student for mental, emotional, or physical support. It’s in the code of conduct.”

I don’t know if that’s actually something in our school’s rule book, but Ivy has read the whole thing cover-to-cover for the sole purpose of seeing how many provisions she can disregard without getting into trouble through malicious acts of over-compliance or sheer dumb luck. So, she’s either following the rules to the letter or lying about them. As I sit, I see that Caruthers does not look impressed when Ivy plops onto the bench next to me. The whole reason our gender-segregated phys. ed classes collaborate so often is because they’re full of athletes – and me, the outlier – so more often than not, it’s just an extra practice for the varsity players. Even though Ivy was born with the “good at physical stuff” gene, and talented enough to be a forward on our girls’ soccer team, she prefers to rely on the natural part of her ability and not the practice part to the vexation of literally everyone.

“Hammond!” Caruthers screams. “On the field, or off the team!”

Ivy squirts a stream of water into her mouth and quickly swallows before passing the bottle on to me. “Cool. Who’s replacing me?” she retorts.

I focus on downing some water and breathing evenly again and not on the vein beginning to pop out of Caruthers’ angry-red neck. She can’t say anything back because, well, Kinross High School isn’t huge. Pretty much everyone who can play sports is already playing sports, and as far as Ivy’s tendency to disrespect anyone of authority can go, she’s also crucial to securing victory over visiting teams. Caruthers just grits her teeth and returns to refereeing the game where Tom Styles has once again stolen the ball that got away from him, this time without incapacitating anybody since the one guy with asthma has left the field. (Asshole.) I watch as Abby Jefferson starts to gain on him, and Tom makes the choice to skillfully send the ball flying across the grass to the next open player, Drew Young, the only person in our gym class who does even less than I do.

That’s not for lack of talent either. I’ve seen Drew actually try on the rare occasion, and he could absolutely score a spot on a boys’ sports team. But most games, like today, he receives the pass and kicks the ball along to the next open player – it’s intercepted by one of the girls – and continues pacing the field leisurely. Coach Martin yells at him to get his head in the game, but Drew doesn’t bother. If the activity doesn’t involve selling the pens that he stole from the cheerleaders to the football team, the little weasel has no interest.

The game continues on.

Ivy reclines until her shoulders are touching the bench behind us, tilting her head back and staring at the sky. I have to wonder how comfortable it is.

“My dear Sid,” she theatrically addresses me. She likes to be dramatic sometimes. She thinks it’s funny. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I told you I’m not training a messenger pigeon with you. We only live three houses apart.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually, but no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She looks over at me without breaking her questionable position. “I know what we’re doing tonight. I’ve concocted a perfect plan, you see, for this most All-Hallowed of Eves.”

“You can say ‘Halloween’ like a normal person. It’s okay.”

“Let me bring you back in time,” she continues, ignoring me, “to the Kinross of yore. Just decades after its founding, the Salem Witch Trials came about and our town was no exception to the noose–”

“Salem is two hours away, Ivy,” I interrupt with the fact.

“Shut up. The Salem Witch Trials swept across the state of Massachusetts, migrated into Kinross, and thus the most famous trial of Kinross history was set in motion when one Ann Kelly was accused of being a creature of the occult!”

“Can I get the abridged version of this plan please?” I ask her. “Like, the part that takes place in this century?”

Finally fed up with my interjections, Ivy sighs exaggeratedly and rolls her eyes at me. “Blah, blah, blah, she was hanged, she’s buried in the historical section of Riverview, and we’re going there tonight during the witching hour to see” – she switches to her best spooky voice with elongated, trembling vowels – “her haunted grave.”

“Hard pass.”

That makes her sit upright again with a slouch to her posture. She’s wearing a fabricated pout. “Sid,” she whines.

“Ivy, I’m not sneaking out with you at three in the morning on Halloween to go see a ‘haunted grave.’” She opens her mouth, but I follow up with, “Our parents would kill us. Besides, what’s-her-name probably just angered a bunch of Puritans and got executed because of religious prejudice. That doesn’t mean she was a witch.”

“Well, of course. I think angering Puritans was a mandatory activity back then. But come on, Sid! The legend says she’s a witch, and it’s the perfect Halloween thing! I think we are obligated – if not encouraged by the spirit of Halloween herself – to go see a ghost witch.”

“Does the spirit of Halloween have a gender?”

Ivy pushes past that and waits to catch my eye dead-on. “Bet you a hundred bucks we actually see Ann Kelly’s phantom.”

My lips part to say no just a split second before I register the number. “Wait – a hundred?”

Something cocky has taken up her face, and she recites with inflated confidence, “Ten A-Hams. A Franklin. A thousand Roosevelts.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll take your money,” I tell her. “You’re on.”

Her grin is smug as we fist-bump on it and close the deal, but I decide that I don’t care so much with the promise of an easy hundred dollars coming my way. Ivy ingests another stream of water, and swallows while her eyes quickly scan the grass to catch up with the game again. Suddenly, a yell flies from her mouth:

“Box him out, Julia! Come on!”

Then she’s up off the bleachers and jogging back out onto the field. As unwilling as Ivy is to make an effort and practice, she’s also equally as competitive, even if this is just a gym class where victory doesn’t really matter. I, on the other hand, take my time on the bench. Struggling to breathe isn’t my idea of fun. I need to stop letting Ivy manipulate me into taking phys. ed. If she keeps it up, she might kill me.

***

I can nearly be qualified as a mess by the time Ivy and I reach our lockers after final period, and she’s humming like she’s got live wires for veins despite just spending an hour burning off energy. Meanwhile, I’m still recovering from my last bout of airlessness after I returned to the field and ran for maybe ten minutes. And I feel gross. The benefit of having P.E. last period is that I don’t have to shower here and can wait until I get home or to Ivy’s. The con is the window of time in between. I usually try to keep the gap as short as possible, and therefore, my time at my locker brief. I think Ivy and I took enough time getting changed after gym to avoid most people – at least the non-athletes.

“Hi, Sidney! Hi, Ivy!”

A mixture of feelings suddenly rockets through me and don’t add up in the end. While my chest is beginning to slowly overclock, and the hallway seems a few degrees warmer and rising steadily, I’m ready to play dead as Naomi Park opens the locker right next to mine on the opposite side of Ivy’s. Her shoulder is a fraction of an inch from touching my arm which is probably too close when I’m still drenched in gym sweat. Ivy greets her politely with ease while my brain is trying to catch up with the mundane situation and not think about how she smells like some kind of flowery perfume and I smell like crap.

“Hey, Naomi,” leaves my mouth and sounds too drawn-out and weirdly cheesy, so I just try to smile to make up for it. That feels awkward too, but she thankfully doesn’t seem to react to that, and her glossy pink lips tilt up without much effort into a perfect grin.

She puts some books on the shelf in her locker. “Any exciting Halloween plans?”

“Nope,” Ivy says immediately, likely because our actual idea involves a wager and might not be entirely legal – it’s a misdemeanor at the least. I just take the hint and don’t add anything to refute her answer.

“You? Any plans? For tonight – Halloween?” I wish that had come out differently. It could have at least sounded coherent.

“Nothing tonight,” Naomi responds. “But Heather’s having a ‘Belated Halloween Bash’ on Saturday while her parents are out of town so I’m ‘required’ to be there.”

“Oh, cool. That’s…cool.”

“I guess so. Heather’s parties get a little boring after a while though. I bet your plans for Saturday are much more fun.”

“Yep. Pints of ice cream, horror movies, and making bets on how long it takes Sid to hurl when the blood starts gushing,” Ivy interjects.

“Ivy.” I mutter the snap of her name so it doesn’t sound as harsh as I want it to. The temperature in the hallway rises astronomically.

Naomi giggles, which hurts. Well, it would if her laugh wasn’t so musical and twinkly. It’s like a damn harp quartet. “Sounds like a good time,” she comments. Her locker door shuts. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, totally – tomorrow. See ya’, Naomi!” She’s nearly out of earshot down the hall, and I wait until I know she definitely can’t hear anything before I say to Ivy without daring a look at her, with the heat of embarrassment and shame boiling me alive from the inside, “Please say nothing.”

I can hear the grin on her face when she speaks. “You realize she’s just another human being, right?”

“Are you kidding? She’s at the right hand of Heather Loch. She’s popular. I’m shocked she still knows my name.”

Ivy shuts her own locker with a characteristic slam. “Dude, you’re ridiculous. She likes you back. If you just talked to her, and told her that you like her, you would have a girlfriend.”

“Ivy, she thinks I’m a loser.”

“I think you’re a loser and I still like you sometimes.”

I roll my eyes and can’t say anything to that. I don’t care if Ivy thinks I’m lame. It’s not the same. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, so at this point, she’s locked into this friendship, no matter how easy it would be for her to hang out with the people at Kinross High who are actually popular and liked.

I close my locker and we start walking to the main exit of the building and eventually across the school’s student parking lot. Some groups linger, but most people seem to be dispersing and heading home for the day. Ivy and I walk straight through the lot as always, avoiding the cars pulling out.

I want to avoid the Styles’ Ford Everest – which is so bright red that it’s an assault on the eyes – but we have to walk past it and the clump of popular kids loitering next to it: blonde, perfect, popular Heather Loch, Asshole Quarterback Tom and his not-as-terrible twin, Ed, and my locker neighbour and secret crush, Naomi. The girls are under the guys’ arms like they belong there, popular with popular. There’s usually not much interaction between our pair and their group because I’m pretty sure most of the popular kids either don’t know who I am or just hate me for no reason, but today Tom decides to rub in his full-contact plays on the soccer field.

“Nice moves out there, Pussy Willow!” he shouts clear across the lot. It makes me feel the bruise on my back, still fresh, but I’m past the point of being mad about it. Really, Tom’s just an annoying jerk, and that’s all he’ll ever be.

I try to tap into Ivy-like sarcasm and passiveness. “I get it. Because my last name is Willow, and you’re insulting me. That’s really funny. It’s original.”

He yells something back that includes one of Ivy’s favourite swear words, but we disregard it and turn out of the parking lot in the direction of our houses. Ivy states that we’re going to my place because, in her mind, it’s easier to sneak out of a single-parent household. I don’t try to refute it because arguing with Ivy when she has her mind made up is like talking to a brick wall.

#writing #wip #untitled #my writing #my ocs #ya #young adult #writeblr

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softforcal · 5 years

Text

Floral : Tattooist!Cal

Summary: Renowned tattoo artist Calum Hood doesn’t take apprentices often, but when he does, he tackles the challenge like everything else in his life: with the utmost professionalism. Until he meets Lily, a learning artist, and Calum falls head over heels before he can help himself.

Warnings: there’s smut. but its super slow burn.

Cal Mood Board: Lily

Word Count: 13.3k

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

The young, heavily tattooed man sat at the receptionist desk in his parlour. His head was bowed, chiseled jaw set, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the papers scattered in front of him.

Art littered the sheets and after a good, long look, the man would either add the paper to a pile on his left or on his right.

The stack to his left was large and separated in two with a combined paper count of well over three hundred.

The stack to his right was substantially smaller, containing only five or six hand picked sheets.

Buzzing filled the space, one of his workers and friends, a man named Michael, was finishing up the last client of the day. His words didn’t even register to the focused man at the front as Michael wiped off the skin carefully, put a bandage over it and then walked the client to the reception desk. The woman paid and left, leaving the two large aussies to silence.

Michael looked over Calum’s shoulder, hands reaching out to pull at one of the last few sheets yet to be judged, “this is nice.” Michael stated.

Calum cocked his head, taking the paper gingerly from his friend.

He had to admit, there was something interesting to the style.

It was floral, which Calum usually shied away from, but something about this piece just captured his eye. The lines were thin and delicate, precise and deliberate, they caught his attention and drew his gaze along each light, flouncy, petal. It was realism, which was Calum’s specialty. As much as he enjoyed the more cartoony things, Calum had a reputation for making tattoos that seemed to jump out of the skin.

And this piece definitely did that.

He added it to the pile on his right.

Michael helped him decide on the last few and finally he was done, having finished with six sheets of paper that Calum then carefully picked up, “now for the hard part.” he stated.

Michael’s laugh echoed through the tattoo parlour, “those all look sick man, i don’t know how you’re going to choose, glad I don’t have your fucking job.”

“You going home for the day?”

“Might go to a bar, wanna drink?”

“Hmmm.” Calum sighed, “I need to finish this up.”

“Well I’ll tell you one thing, if you don’t choose whoever the fuck did that flower piece, I’m going to break into your application file, find them, and get them to tattoo me. Girly or not, that shit was fire.”

-------

Calum’s dog Duke padded around his feet as Calum walked through his apartment. His fingers held the glass of whiskey loosely by his side as he approached his work desk. Letting out a long sigh, Calum collapsed into his plush, slightly worn, work chair, setting his drink down.

The final six contenders were all in front of him.

Two of them were animal sketches, one was more geometric, and the final three were florals. As much as he tried to give each one the same amount of time and attention, his eyes kept going back to that one floral one.

Calum was very specific about taking on apprentices.

He’d only ever had two, and after he was done with them, they were almost as renowned as he was.

Thinking about the artists brought a smile to his face. His hand absentmindedly rubbed at the triangle on his forearm, just under his horse shoe tattoo.

The idea had been Michael’s originally, and it had been a joke. No one thought Calum would actually do it. So when Calum had allowed his first apprentice to graduate to full tattooist stature by taking a gun and putting whatever he wanted onto Calum’s body, everyone had been shocked.

But, his first apprentice had been kind, opting for a geomorphic animal hybrid tattoo. It was medium sized, a black triangle with a wolf face inside. Calum hadn’t looked the entire process, putting his complete trust in the man he’d just spent over a year training.

Everyone had been shocked. His friends had filmed most of it and it had gone viral.

Calum was known for his tattooing skills but he was also known for his tattoos, he could be very particular about who took a needle to his body so this was the ultimate show of confidence in his teaching abilities.

Whenever Calum found himself retreating into himself he’d look down at the lone wolf tattoo on his forearm to remind himself to open up a little, to enjoy his pack and welcome new members.

New apprenticeship applications had been abundant after that, with Calum getting at least three or four hundred applicants whenever he announced that he would be taking on someone new.

The second apprentice had gotten Calum on his stomach with his shirt off and had began to wipe down a very large expanse of Calum’s practically unmarked back when it was decided that Calum’s apprentices would have to run their final tattoo idea by Calum’s senior artists first.

Michael voted yes to having a massive dragon on Calum’s back but Calum, Ashton and Luke had vetoed that idea.

The dragon had been substantially shrunk down to a red and black little reptilian creature on Calum’s shoulder, its tail wrapped protectively around his upper arm. Whenever Calum wore shirts that showed off the intricate, very real looking piece, Michael would always joke and pretend to talk to the dragon which he had since named “lil Sebastian.” Calum had denied this name but that never stopped Michael.

Calum enjoyed the application process.

He enjoyed looking at all of the art which he insisted be sent in with a coded system that he didn’t know, that way, he had no idea of the age, gender, ethnicity, or background of any of the applying artists. He wanted to make it fair. He wanted to choose the best because their art was the best, not because of any other possible side reasons.

The floral piece made him want to know who had drawn it.

Which was odd. Usually Calum was okay with not knowing. But there was, as Michael had pointed out, something about it.

Calum took a deep breath, picking up the sheet one last time.

He wasn’t the type to ever let his heart make decisions for him, but he knew that this choice was backed by his eyes and his mind as well. Whoever this artist was, they had talent, and Calum wanted to be there to take that talent, which was already spectacular, and somehow make it better.

The decision had been made. Now all that was left was for his receptionist (who for the time being was Ashton since their receptionist was on mat leave) would call the artists.

It was a Friday, and by Monday, if the artist accepted, his parlour would have a new apprentice, and Calum would once again embark on a year to three year teaching mission that at the end he would have a new tattoo and an artist to show for it.

-----------

Lily waited for the coffee. The long sleeves of her oversized denim were perfect for fidgeting and she took full advantage, rolling the worn fabric between her fingers.

A strand of blonde hair had fallen loose from the messy bun atop her head, dangling in front of her face, but Lily was too wired and distracted to even notice.

“Black coffee and a frap for Lily?” the cute barista guy said. Announcing her name was just a formality, the barista had flirted with Lily at the till, he knew who she was and his eyes were bright as he handed her the drinks.

She offered a small smile before rushing from the shop.

She’d had a last minute spur of anxiety about showing up to her apprenticeship the first day without anything. She’d rather be on time with coffee than early and empty handed.

Lily dodged around people on the street, her small frame making it easy, the large black denim flaring out behind her like a flag. She slowed down as she approached the parlour.

Her palms were sweating and she could feel her heart practically beating out of her chest. She took a few deep breaths. When she’d applied to the apprenticeship she didn’t think she’d actually get in.

Lily had always loved drawing and somewhere along the way she’d realized that the doodles in the margins of her textbooks could become something more. She’d been accepted to a pretty high end arts school and one of her teachers had brought up tattooing in a class.

Lily had immersed herself, and a month later, had already given herself a stick and poke but it was nowhere near as pretty as she had wanted it to be.

She’d become addicted to tattoos.

By the time she’d finished at the arts school, she’d had numerous tattoos done, all floral, of course.

Lily had found HoodTats on instagram in her second year and had been following his posts religiously since then. He only ever posted his art which was something she always appreciated, knowing that whenever that notification popped up on her phone, she’d be able to see a new piece from the artist as opposed to pictures non-art related.

When he announced his apprenticeship reopening, Lily had worked her ass off, but had accepted the fact that she wouldn’t be chosen.

When she’d gotten a call on Saturday morning and an aussie accent had told her she’d been chosen, Lily had dropped her phone to scream. Scrambling to grab her cell again, she and the man had exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and he’d given her info on what she needed to do. It had seemed so surreal, Lily was shocked she’d even been of sound mind enough to be able to jot down the information on her drawing pad.

And now there she was, standing in front of the parlour.

She stood there for a moment, just looking at the doors.

“You going in or what?” a voice asked.

Lily jumped, grip tightening on her coffee as she turned to look at the man who was standing next to her. She took in his strong jaw and golden skin, and she wet her lips absentmindedly, “yeah, sorry, I uh… fuck, I’m a little jittery today.”

He hummed, eyes scanning her too, then he reached out and opened the door to the parlour for her. Lily offered a small smile and walked in, the gorgeous man following her inside.

“Hey Cal.” the guy at the main desk said, looking up.

The guy from behind Lily grunted in response, and Lily furrowed her eyebrows, Cal as in-

“Hey!” the happy blonde grinned, drawing her thoughts away.

“Hi.” Lily forced a smile, taking a deep breath, “I’m Lily-”

“Right! The apprentice! You’re early!” the blonde said, “I’m Ashton!” he held out a hand and Lily haphazardly set the coffees down, wiping her hand on her pants to rid of the condensation that had marred her skin from the frappuccino.

She shook Ashton’s hand, making an awkward face, “sorry, my skin is cold.”

“No worries, you brought someone a coffee?” he asked.

“Uh… I figured i should bring something so I bought a frappuccino-”

“You mean the black coffee is for you?” the guy laughed.

“Yeah-”

“Offer Calum the black coffee, trust me.”

Before Lily could respond a new guy came into the parlour from the back room and he walked over with a grin, “who’s this?” he asked.

“Calum’s new apprentice.”

“Lily.” she extended the hand to the pink haired guy.

“No shit?!” the pink haired man grinned, “fuck, your art is amazing! I’m Michael!”

He shook her hand aggressively but the light in his eyes told Lily that he was just excited, genuinely excited, to meet her.

“I saw your florals? Damn, if you ever want a canvas, I have a whole leg that’s free and you can just fuck it up-”

“Michael you’re scaring her.” Ashton tutted, nudging his friend.

Michael looked between Ashton and Lily, “no I’m not! I’m not scaring you am I?”

“You scare everyone.” the gorgeous guy from before had returned, and he leaned his hip against the counter. His leather jacket was gone, revealing a black v neck that was pulled tight against his strong chest. His arms were crossed, biceps bulging, arms littered in tattoos exposed and proud on his beautiful skin.

“This is Lily, she’s your new apprentice.” Ashton stated.

Lily’s eyes met Calum and she nearly swore in front of him… again. She’d just said fuck to him outside. To her new boss. She’d said fuck.

Fuck.

Calum looked her up and down again, taking in the oversized denim that nearly hid her tiny frame. Her jeans were black and ripped at the knees and her blonde hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, one haphazard strand in front of her face. She had high cheekbones and soft looking lips, eyes that were a molten chocolate brown peered up at him and freckles splattered her cute button nose.

“So you’re the floral girl.” he said before he could help himself.

She opened her mouth then shut it, grabbing the black coffee from the counter she held it out for him, “i got this for you.”

Calum looked at it for a moment then accepted it, turning it over in his hands to look at what was written on the side.

“Who’s Greg?” he asked.

“What?”

He showed her the cup. Written on the side was a phone number, a heart, and the name Greg. “fuck.” Lily breathed, her eyes widened, “shit, I mean- fuck, not fuck, shit.”

She hid her face with her hands and all three men grinned at her.

“We don’t fucking care if you swear sweetheart, just as long as you keep it to a minimum in front of clients.” Michael assured her.

“So who is Greg.” Ashton asked.

“He’s the barista I guess. I don’t know, he was flirting with me but I didn’t check the cup.” Lily groaned loudly.

“So… do you want the number?” Calum asked, offering the cup back to her.

Lily grabbed the frappuccino, stepping back as she took a sip, shaking her head, “no fucking thank you.”

Calum tried to stop himself from grinning.

He liked her already.

-------

Calum had to admit, Lily learned fast.

He found that he only had to show her something once, and just like that, she knew what she was doing. The first week had been kind of rocky. Calum was a quiet guy by nature, and he could tell that it was making Lily anxious, although she never said anything.

The first day in particular had been interesting.

Every time she took a sip of her frappuccino, she’d make a face and Calum had found it amusing, until he found out from Ashton after she left that the black coffee that she’d given him had initially been for herself. The poor girl had been so worried about making a good impression that she’d forced down one of those too-sweet coffee monstrosities that Calum, an avid coffee drinker, would not have been caught dead drinking.

Lily got flustered pretty easily which was endearing to him given the whole edgy look she was rocking like it was nobody's business.

Wearing almost strictly black clothing that set off the gold of her hair, Calum may have described Lily as goth, but due to her lack of make up, maybe that was the wrong word. She was tiny, Calum always had to look down to meet her eyes, and she tried to hide behind oversized sweatshirts and jackets. She’d roll up the sleeves into large bunches at her elbows while drawing, and she never seemed to be able to sit like a normal human being.

Even on a stool, she’d find a way to tuck one leg underneath her, or use something nearby to rest a foot on.

Calum had always been the type of guy to be quiet and watch, noticing the small things other people wouldn’t notice. Like the way Lily would focus entirely on a drawing, hands almost as steady as Calum’s, but the moment she was done, her long sleeves would be rolled down again and she’d begin to fidget.

Lily was quiet too. Something Calum appreciated.

She didn’t ask many questions which Calum enjoyed, but it did concern him a little. As her teacher, he wanted to make sure that he was actually teaching.

He found himself asking “did that make sense?” or “do you understand?” more than he ever had in his life, always earning a small “yeah” or curt nod.

He’d also noticed the small dimple, just one, on her left cheek, that would appear rarely but it always made him want to smile back whenever it did.

Michael spent most of his free time talking to Lily, which Calum enjoyed, he was never one for small talk. Through Michael’s chats with Lily, Calum had learned that Lily had actually gone to art school. She’d been doodling all her life. She adored flowers, only partially because of her name (she wasn’t that pretentious.) But, the discussions were usually limited to art and tattoo related things, which Calum was beginning to find quite dry.

He wanted to ask questions, but Calum wasn’t the type to pry. He was never appreciative of people asking him unwanted questions and Calum didn’t fancy himself to be a hypocrite.

Besides, Calum was, in a way (in a lot of ways) her boss. And Calum was never the type to toe the line of professionalism. Which is why, when Michael suggested that Lily grab a drink with them after work, Calum thanked god for his best friend.

Lily had agreed and Calum was sure that it was for Michael’s sake, definitely not his own. After all, Calum hadn’t spoken two words together to the girl that weren’t work related.

Besides, one of Calum’s artists had been traveling for a month and was finally coming home, so it would be a good chance for Lily to meet the guy outside of the parlour.

Michael spent the entire day ranting about Luke and hyping him up to the point that if he wasn’t a six foot four, curly blonde, rockstar looking, douche bag, then Lily would have been very let down.

After closing up the parlour, the three walked down the street to the bar. Calum opened the door for them and as they went inside, all of Lily’s expectations were met.

Luke had already grabbed them a booth, and as they walked in, he leapt to his feet, coming over with open arms. He immediately engulfed Michael in a hug before turning to Lily, “you must be Cal’s new whipping girl!” he grinned, wrapping his arms around her next.

Lily was small next to Michael and Cal but with Luke? She was absolutely miniscule. So Luke had no issue simply picking her up off the ground in a hug.

A small squeal left Lily’s lips and everyone laughed.

“Fuck. You’re not a hugger are you?” Luke asked, setting her back down. His hands went to her shoulders, bending down to meet her eyes as he looked at her with concern.

“Uh… that was a hug?” she asked, laughing awkwardly.

Michael laughed, “don’t mind Luke, he’s just a big teddy bear.”

“Fuck off.” Luke said, shoving at Michael who grinned, throwing his arm over Luke’s shoulders as the two walked back to the table.

“Wow, fuck Calum then.” Lily said, voice quiet.

But Calum heard. And Calum laughed, “Luke can be a bit forgetful.”

“I uh-” Lily flushed red and hid her face with her oversized sleeves, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“It’s alright.” Calum assured her.

“I just… he didn’t even look at you.” Lily stammered, “god, I would be so worried if one of my friends snubbed me like that-”

“He didn’t snub me.” Calum said a tad too sternly, and it made Lily shut her worried, anxious, stammering mouth. She looked at him with wide eyes and Calum sighed, seeing the hurt in the chocolate brown irises. “Sorry I snapped at you I-”

“No it’s fine.” her eyes had widened and her hands were up and waving, sort of distracting Calum actually, as she ranted about how she always swore too much and needed to learn not to always say what was on her mind, even if she whispered it and didn’t expect anyone to hear, not that Calum was being nosey, he was standing there anyways so he was definitely not being nosey-

“Do you drink?” Calum asked, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as he looked down at Lily.

“Are you offering to buy me a drink?” Lily asked.

Calum stared at her for a moment and that's all it took for Lily to freak out again, getting even redder as she hid her face, “holy fuck! Shit! You see? I have a problem. That was way too flirty. You’re my boss! Wow. I am way too anxious to function, this is such a mess-”

“I’m going to get you a drink.” Calum stated before she could continue, moving past her to the bar and leaving her standing there wanting to die.

“What’s the deal with that?” Luke asked, tilting his chin towards where Lily and Calum had just been standing.

“So the new girl Lily is an anxious little muffin nugget and Cal is…”

“Cal.” Luke finished for him, making them both laugh, “she’s cute.”

“Yeah, and just wait till you see her fucking art!” Michael grinned, “she’s talented, just Calum’s type.”

Lily had managed to contain herself again, walking over to the table where Michael made room for her, “who’s Calum’s type?” she asked.

“No one-” Michael began to say as Luke stated “you.”

Lily’s breath caught in her throat as she looked between the two men sitting in the booth. Michael was gaping at Luke but Luke was grinning, attention deliberately entirely focused on Lily.

“That is very inappropriate Luke.” Michael tutted.

“Why?”

“He’s her boss-”

“Not really.” Luke said.

“Sort of though.” Michael argued.

“Eh, is he really though?” Luke narrowed his eyes at Michael.

Before Michael could answer Calum came back, a Guinness in each hand. He set one down in front of Lily, “hope you like-”

“Guinness!? My favourite!” Lily smiled.

“Yeah, figured you like black coffee-”

“You like black coffee?” Luke made a face at Lily, “wow, you and Cal really are meant to be.”

“Luke!” Michael screamed.

“What?!” Luke threw his hands on the air.

“You left for a month and you have no filter!” Michael shouted.

“I never had a filter!” Luke pointed out.

Michael groaned, “fuck, it’s true, you got me there. Damn it.” he turned to look at Lily, “I’m so sorry, Luke’s not used to being around girls.”

“Yes I am!” Luke insisted, “all the girls love me-”

“Oh yeah? Then why the fuck are you still single?” Michael asked.

Lily and Calum both grabbed their drinks in unison, watching Luke and Michael fight.

“I’m single because a man like me shouldn’t be tied down!” Luke stated.

“Pfff, sure it has nothing to do with the whole ‘oh I don’t believe in love’ thing?” Michael asked.

“If you want to talk not believing in love, go fight Calum!” Luke said, motioning towards the silently sitting artist, “he’s the douchebag who thinks that shit doesn’t exist, not me!”

All eyes went to Calum.

He set down his Guinness, tattooed, ring clad fingers sliding along the condensation covered glass, a moment passed, “so is someone going to ask me something or are you all just going to stare at me?”

“You don’t believe in love?” Lily asked.

“Well when you put it like that-” Calum sighed.

“How else would you put it Cal?” Luke smirked.

He thought about it for a moment then grinned, bringing his drink to his lips, “touche.”

“How about you flower baby, what’s your vibe on that crazy little thing called love?” Luke asked.

“‘Flower baby’ I like it!” Michael grinned, turning his gaze to the only girl there.

“Well that’s a loaded question.” Lily said, shrinking under their gaze.

“You’re single right?” Michael asked.

“Michael.” Calum warned.

“What? I can ask her that sort of thing, I’m not her boss, plus we were all thinking it.” Michael said.

“Michael, this is bordering sexual harassment.” Calum stated, “Lily if you’re uncomfortable-”

“I’m always uncomfortable.” she interjected.

“You don’t have to answer their questions.” he told her.

Lily took a deep breath, “no, I should try to not be so shy all the time.”

“Good for you, cheers to that.” Luke said, lifting the bottle of beer he’d had since before they’d arrived, “so tell us all your secrets.”

“My money’s on single.” Michael stated.

“Why?” Lily laughed.

“Cuz if you had a boyfriend there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t have already come to the shop to check us out and make sure none of us are threats.” Michael answered.

“And then, he’d show up and fight Calum-” Luke continued.

“Can you both leave me out of this?” Calum interjected.

“But Cal-”

“Maybe just stop saying my name how about that?” Calum sighed.

Luke groaned loudly, “you’re lame.”

“So you two are friends right?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Luke said, taking a sip of his beer.

Lily grinned and Michael laughed, “they have a very complicated relationship.” he assured her.

“Your mom and I have a complicated relationship.” Luke quipped.

“How long have you been here buddy?” Michael asked.

“A while.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“A lot.”

Michael groaned, “man, I haven’t even had a beer yet and I’m already going to have to take you home aren’t I?”

“I’m fine.” Luke laughed.

“That’s your awkward ‘I’m totally not fine’ laugh.” Michael sighed, “okay man, lets go.”

“But we can’t leave Cal and the flower child.” Luke groaned.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Michael said, pulling Luke to his feet.

“But I like flower girl.” Luke whined.

“And you’ll see her at work on Monday when you’re sober.” Michael pointed out.

“Promise?” Luke asked.

“Promise.” Michael said, Luke finally allowing himself to be dragged closer to the door, he turned back and looked at Calum and Lily who were both watching him, “tell them to use protection Michael, we don’t need a tattoo parlour baby.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Luke was not satisfied with this answer, turning to look at Cal and Lily he screamed “use protection!” and half the bar turned to look at the two still sitting in the booth.

Lily flushed immediately and Calum sighed, “we can just finish our drinks and go.” he suggested.

Lily took a sip of her Guinness, “eager to get rid of me?” she asked.

Calum’s grip tightened on his glass, “look, this was probably a mistake, I’m your teacher and this feels inappropriate, especially with how Michael and Luke have been acting-”

“Have you taken your other apprentices out for drinks before?”

“Yeah-”

“So it’s because I’m a girl.” Lily stated.

Calum groaned. He was not a sexist guy. He wasn’t. Which is why he even did applications blind, so that he wouldn’t treat people differently. And now here he was, treating his apprentice differently because she was a woman. A cute woman. Fuck.

“Shit.” Calum said, “I feel like such a jackass.”

“Is it…” Lily sighed.

“Is it what?”

Lily covered her face in her hands, “fuck, now I’m making this awkward.” she peeked at Calum, “I’m going to just say it and we can pretend it never happened, we should pretend this whole night didn’t happen to be honest, like, I don’t know what the fuck has come over me today but… Luke and Michael are throwing me off big time, and, shit, is it… is it because I’m your type? Is that why you’re being so weird? Like, Michael said you’re a quiet guy but this feels more personal you know?”

“I’m just… i haven't had a female apprentice before and I guess I’m not used to it.” Calum studied her and then realized that he’d pretty much just stated that she wasn’t his type, which was a lie, and if there was one thing Calum Hood wasn’t, it was a liar, “not that you’re not my type, you are, I mean, shit, I’m your boss, sort of, and being professional is kinda my thing-”

“You’re very professional.” Lily assured him.

“I just bought you a beer, probably shouldn’t have done that-”

“I won’t tell the head of the tattooist apprenticeship board or whatever if you don’t.” Lily sighed, “Look. don’t treat me differently. I don’t want this to be so awkward, i want to be friends, after all, when this is all over i will legitimately be putting a tattoo of my choosing on your body so we should be friends don’t you think?”

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable-” Calum winced.

“If you do, I’ll tell you, how about that?” she asked.

He considered it, “deal.”

They finished their Guinnesses quickly, standing and walking to the entryway to the bar, “well, how far from here do you live?” Calum asked.

“A little ways away, why?”

“I mean, should I offer to walk you home?” Calum tested.

“Would you offer that to your other apprentices?”

“Probably not.”

“Then no.”

“Okay well uh… get home safe then yeah?”

“Will do. I’m a big girl.” Lily grimaced immediately, “wow that sounded so weird. I’ll uh… I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Yeah.”

Calum almost went in for a hug. His brain was so frazzled. Whenever he took a girl out to a bar they were usually on a date and normally, if he wasn’t interested in taking them home, he’d give them a hug just to say ‘goodbye, never gonna call you again.’

Lily also awkwardly looked like she was about to go in for a hug and they both kind of stumbled awkwardly until Lily thrust out her hand and Calum laughed, shaking it, “uh, have a good night.”

“You too.”

As they both turned and went opposite ways down the street they were both cringing. It was very obvious to them that she was his apprentice and they were two weeks into an apprenticeship that could take more than two years.

They were fucked.

-------

On Monday, Lily and Calum showed up to work fully intending to stay true to their agreement to forget the awkwardness of Friday ever happened, and have Calum treat her like every other apprentice he’d had.

After a bit of small talk with Luke, Michael and Ashton, Calum’s first client arrived and he called Lily over to watch. Calum was very focused when he tattooed, staying completely silent as he worked, which left it up to Lily to make conversation with the clients.

Calum enjoyed listening to Lily chat with clients. She was always so anxious around him, but she relaxed a little bit more around other people. She almost seemed easy going, and if Cal didn’t know her, he would have even gone as far to describe her as an extrovert.

She’d make a great tattoo artist. Always calming down and distracting clients.

Calum almost began getting critical of himself because damn, did he not talk enough with clients? No one had ever complained before so Calum pushed the thought aside.

Calum realized that if he simply didn’t look at Lily, he could teach her better, not get distracted by her pretty freckles or her gorgeous brown eyes-

It worked for a week.

But because it worked, Lily got more comfortable.

It had been a full month when Lily finally got so comfortable that she took off her oversized, black denim jacket for the first time.

It was getting hotter outside, summer quickly approaching, and Lily was wearing a black tank top that exposed her arms and shoulders. As she slipped the the denim off and put it on a chair, Calum’s breath caught in his throat. Delicate tattoos littered the skin from elbow to shoulder, two beautiful half sleeves that he had no idea she’d had.

In classic Lily fashion, the tattoos were all black.

As Calum studied them he realized, “wait, did you… did you tattoo some of these onto yourself?” the art was undeniably Lily.

Lily’s skin flushed, “yeah, iI uh… I bought a tattoo gun a while ago and figured I’d test it on myself.”

“So that’s why your lines are so good already, you’ve literally been practicing on yourself.” Calum would have laughed if it wasn’t so hard core.

“Yeah.” Lily laughed, “I mean, I think they turned out alright.” she looked down at the flowers on her left arm, “the ones on this side are better because I’m right handed, I practiced with my left for ages with paper but it just wasn’t the same so only this peony is mine,” she motioned to a small, delicate flower on her right arm, “everything else was done by other artists I’ve been into for a while.”

Calum recognized the artwork on her right arm, “that was done by Cole.” Cole had been his second apprentice.

“Yeah, he managed to convince me to get a full half sleeve from him so this is all his.”

“Sounds like Cole.” Calum grinned, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to the shoulder to show her the dragon, “he gave me this one, originally he wanted to take up my whole back but I had to draw the line with that one.”

“Yeah, he wanted my whole arm but I told him just above the elbow.”

“Would you ever get your forearms done?”

“Hmm, probably not, but I have an idea for my thigh-” before she could go into more details, Calum’s client arrived and the conversation was cut short.

That day was particularly difficult. Calum just wanted to gawk at her tattoos. She had been a ten before but now? Wow. Calum had a thing for tattoos and the whole thing about Lily tattooing herself was… well, Calum’s pants were getting a bit tight just thinking about it.

It was around one o'clock when Ashton got a cancelation call from one of Calum’s clients. Calum didn’t mind, there was a deposit for half the cost anyways and it meant he had an hour of free time. Calum sent Ashton for lunch which meant he and Lily were manning the reception desk.

Lily was drawing flowers while Calum watched. He didn’t have any floral tattoos and he had been curious from day one what they would look like on his skin. “Do you want to try drawing that on me?” he suggested.

“Uh… are you sure?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, you need practice drawing on people, last time you did, the woman said your hands were cold after.” Calum pointed out.

“Shit.” Lily immediately put down her pencil and began rubbing her palms together to warm them up.

“Here.” Calum handed her a black sharpie.

“Do you want a floral tattoo?”

“I’ve never wanted one before but... I dunno, your flowers are really nice.”

“Thanks.” Lily flushed, “so your forearm?”

Calum arms were pretty tatted as it was but his left was more covered than his right so he offered up the arm, gesturing to medium sized unmarked patch, “yeah, probably here.”

“Any flowers in specific?” she asked.

“What’s your specialty?”

Lily chuckled, looking up at him for a moment as she twirled the sharpie between her fingers, “a lily. But I do a great chrysanthemum or peony.”

“I only know what lilies look like so surprise me with one of the other ones.” Calum said. He liked surprises.

“Well I showed you my peony so-”

“So the other one.”

“A chrysanthemum.”

“Yeah. That.”

Lily took Calum’s offered arm, putting it on the table as she took the top off of the sharpie. “Free handing is okay?” she clarified.

“Go for it.” Calum said, watching as she too the first swipe of black ink over his arm.

“So you mentioned earlier you had an idea for your thigh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of getting a few big chrysanthemums actually, but I haven’t found anyone who can draw them right.” Lily explained.

“Why don’t you just do it yourself.” Calum teased.

“Cuz it would hurt like a bitch.” Lily answered, “oh, you were joking.”

“A little.”

He watched her drawing the petals, “you know, not to rain on your parade or anything but I feel like I could probably draw a… whatever flower that is.”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“You know maybe if you wrote that down I’d be able to pronounce it.”

Lily grinned. She made it look so easy and Calum studied how she drew each delicate petal. Calum Hood didn’t do flowers, but there was something endearing about how delicate and deliberate each petal was.

After a few minutes she finished, “there. What do you think?”

It did look really good. And again, Calum Hood did not do floral. “yeah.”

He pulled out his art pad and began to try to copy her work and Lily watched, “more curve here and here.” she said, correcting his lines.

Calum grinned, “so the student becomes the teacher.”

Lily flushed, “well, I mean, it’s always been a dream to have you tattoo me, which sounds way awkward saying that out loud but you don’t do floral.”

“I’m doing floral now.” Calum pointed out.

“Still not curved enough.” Lily corrected another petal.

Calum groaned, pulling out another piece of paper to draw a new flower. As he drew, Lily only corrected it twice, and on the third drawing, not at all. Calum held up the paper smugly.

“It looks great.” Lily said.

“So you’ll let me tattoo it on you.”

“Uh…” Lily laughed awkwardly, “I mean, you drew one but I’m going for something a little bigger-”

No one had ever turned down a tattoo from Calum Hood, it was a challenge and Calum liked challenges, “how about this, by the end of the week if I can free hand a bunch of these flowers-”

“Chrysanthemums.”

“If I can freehand a bunch of these cruh-san-the-memes-”

“Nice try.”

Calum groaned loudly, “if I can draw them and you like them you’ll let me tat you.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one tatting you when this is all over?” Lily asked.

“Are you seriously going to turn down a tattoo from me?” Calum laughed.

Lily considered it, “fine, but I’m not going to say yes just because you’re you.”

“Fine.”

--------

In secret, Calum spent an embarrassingly copious amount of time looking at pictures of chrysanthemums online. He’d even trained on how to say ‘chrysanthemum.’ He’d drawn so many god damned flowers over the week that it almost annoyed him that he actually enjoyed drawing them.

On Friday morning, Calum showed up to work with with his top three ideas. He was anxious his entire first client, wanting time to show Lily his work and see if she liked them. As soon as the man had paid and left, Calum took out the art to show Lily.

“Okay, what do you think?” he asked.

He was never worried about what people thought of his work.

People always adored his designs. Hell, people flew in from all over the world to let him free hand an original design on their body to be permanently inked forever.

Lily scanned the flowers, “wow, these look super real, did you look them up?”

“No.” Calum said immediately.

Lily smiled and Calum knew that she knew he was lying.

She looked at one of the sketches, “this one is so pretty.”

It was one of the bigger ones but Calum supposed that's what she’d asked for, “so… you’ll let me tattoo you?”

Having Calum tattoo her had been a dream for years so of course Lily knew she was about to say yes. Especially since she had wanted something outside of his comfort zone and it was obvious that he’d put a lot of effort into making something she’d like. It was making Lily’s heart beat faster and she nodded, “you can tattoo me.”

Calum’s eyes lit up, “great, after work?”

“After work?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kind of sudden isn’t it?”

“Well, I mean, if you want another time-”

“No, after work… works.” Lily said, giggling awkwardly, “I don’t have cash on me-”

Calum’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not charging you.”

“You have to charge me.”

“No I don’t.” Calum insisted.

“Cal, I know how much people pay for your tattoos.” Lily sighed.

“It’s on the house.”

Before Lily could argue further, Calum’s next client showed up.

The next six hours were busy, with Lily and Cal speaking barely two words to each other. Lily’s adrenaline was pumping. She always got excited before a tattoo and this was exciting. More exciting than she wanted to admit.

As the clock ticked down to closing, Lily got more and more fidgety.

It was just her and Cal left in the shop, not that she spent much time with the other artists since she stayed glued to Calum’s side, watching him work, all day every day.

After collecting payment from the last client, Cal turned off the open sign, walking back to Lily, “you still want the tat?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you get ready and I’ll grab the shit.” Calum walked to his work space in the back corner of the shop.

Lily followed, taking a deep breath before she began to unbutton her pants.

“You still sure on the-” Calum turned and his voice trailed off, “placement?” his eyes went to where Lily was unzipping her jeans and pushing them down. Lily felt awkward but when did she not? Plus, Calum had tattooed many people in his life so this wouldn’t be much different.

Calum’s breath was caught in his throat as his eyes traced over the black lacy panties she was wearing.

“So I’m thinking here.” Lily said, motioning to her upper thigh, “I want it to curve in just a little inner.”

“Right.” Cal coughed, “let me draw it on and if you don’t like it we can move it-”

“Calum, I know the drill.”

“Right.” Calum grabbed his sharpie as Lily kicked off her shoes and pants, taking off her jacket and rolling up her shirt a little. Calum returned and got onto his knees, looking up at Lily one last time, “ready?”

“You’re just drawing it, this isn’t even the hard part.”

Calum nodded, “so under the underwear line or-”

Lily flushed, pulling up her panties a little, “just under the hip bone.”

The sharpie pressed against her skin and Lily tried to look anywhere but at the gorgeous tattooed man on his knees between her bare legs.

Calum was right handed and working on her left leg, so to steady her, he had to place his other hand on the inside of her leg, delicately moving the skin a little when necessary. His fingers on her bare flesh was making Lily dizzy.

Calum traced the lines across her thigh, trying to focus all his attention on working and not on how pretty her skin was. And how close he was to-

“So you must see women half naked all the time right?” Lily asked.

“Yeah.” Calum said.

“What’s the nudest you’ve ever done?”

“This one girl wanted something on her pubic bone which I told her was a bad idea but she really wanted it, we were in a back room for privacy and when I came in she was completely naked-”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, I gave her something to cover herself up and she was super awkward the whole time.”

“I can imagine.” Lily laughed.

She could feel his breath on her inner thigh and Lily’s skin involuntarily broke out in goosebumps, “you cold?” Calum asked.

“Yeah but it’s fine.” Lily lied.

Calum hummed and continued working until the drawing was done, “okay, go look in the mirror.” he said, standing up and following Lily to see if she liked it.

Her eyes scanned over it and Calum waited patiently, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s beautiful.” Lily breathed.

“Chrysanthemums are beautiful.”

“How long did it take for you to figure out how to say chrysanthemums?”

“Too long.” Calum admitted.

“Okay, lets do it. You’ll get the basic lines done today and then shading after work on Monday or something?”

“Do you want to split it up into two parts?” Calum asked.

“Don’t you think this will take a while if you try to do it all today?”

“Yeah.”

“I figured you might have plans tonight-”

“Why?”

“Well, its a Friday night.” Lily pointed out.

“So?”

“So maybe you have a date? I don’t know-”

“Do you have a date?”

“No-”

“Great, so let’s do this all tonight.” Calum stated, “we can order take out half way through or some shit, or after, it's up to you.”

“Take out after sounds good, there’s this place down the street with amazing-”

“Shawarma, fuck, love that place.”

“Me too.” Lily grinned, “okay, I’ll sit down then.”

She got onto the chair and set herself up so Calum could access her inner thigh while Calum pulled on some gloves, sat on his stool, and picked up the tattoo gun.

Lily looked at the ceiling as the sound of buzzing began.

The first feeling of the needle piercing her skin made her sigh and Calum smirked, “you good?”

“I uh… kind of like the pain, that sounds wild, shit, I didn’t mean it in like a sexual way or anything-” Lily began to stammer.

“No, I like it too.” Calum said, cutting her off.

Lily wanted to distract herself from the flush that she knew was creeping over her skin, and It was going to take a while so she pulled out her phone, “can we listen to music?”

“Go for it.” Calum said, focusing on his lines. He didn’t talk during tats anyways so music always helped.

Some old rock music began to play from Lily’s phone and Calum smirked, “nirvana.”

“You like Nirvana?” Lily asked.

“All the old stuff is great.” Calum said.

“Nine inch nails is pretty good, Nirvana, Guns and roses-”

“Where have you been all my life.” Calum teased.

Lily smiled, a tingly feeling in her stomach almost distracting from the needle.

A particularly sensitive spot made Lily grab at the side of the chair and Calum noticed. His jaw clenched. Pain was part of tattooing and he never felt bad about it but there was something about Lily being in pain and him being the direct cause, even though it was his job, that was hurting him.

“Deep breaths sweetheart.” Calum said before he could help himself, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it.

Lily sighed, “can you distract me?”

“The music isn’t distracting enough?” he asked.

“Not really.” Lily winced, “shit, why did I think the inner thigh was a good idea? I knew it would hurt like a bitch-”

“It will look great.” Calum assured her.

“It will.” Lily agreed.

She could feel his breath again and she tried to focus on that but as she felt the butterflies in her stomach, she realized maybe that was not the best idea. Having him so close to her, just inches away from where she was positive he could just bury his mouth and send her over the edge in seconds-

“What the fuck?!”

Calum pulled the tattoo gun away, looking at Michael who had just entered the shop, “Michael! Jesus fuck man you can’t just be surprising people who are in the middle of giving tattoos!”

“Shit, sorry,” Michael apologize, “it just… it looked like you two were… well, Calum it looked like you were-”

“Michael. Don’t say it.” Calum warned.

They all knew what he was implying.

“I’m going to continue alright?” Calum asked, drawing Lily’s eyes to his. She nodded.

He started up the gun again and pressed it to her skin, again Lily winced and Michael walked over. “That looks sick already.” he stated.

“Hold her hand.” Calum instructed.

“What?”

“Hold her fucking hand.” Calum said again.

Michael reached out and took Lily’s hand which she immediately squeezed. “So Cal, flowers, since when did you start doing flowers?”

“It’s what she wanted.” Calum answered.

“I just didn’t know you were a fan of flowers.”

“Chrysanthemums are dope Mike.” Calum said.

“You’re wild.” Michael laughed.

Michael pulled up a chair and sat with the two of them for the next three hours, successfully distracting Lily while Calum worked quietly. It was nice to listen to Michael talk because Calum could feel himself straining against his pants and he needed a turn off, like Michael’s voice.

Calum was finishing up when Michael had to go, once again leaving Lily and Calum alone.

“So do you have a skirt or something?” Calum asked.

“No?”

“Oh.”

“Girls don’t just carry around skirts.”

“Right.”

“I mean, you’re going to be really sensitive and your jeans might hurt-”

“Fuck. How come I didn’t think of that? I’m such a shit tattooist.” Lily groaned.

Calum wiped her skin to get the remaining ink away, cleaning the area, “let me put the bandage on then I might have a shirt in the back you can wear as a dress because you’re small.”

Lily stayed quiet as Calum smoothed the see through bandage over her skin. He stood up and went to the back, returning a minute later with a shirt that he handed to Lily, “here.”

She looked at it, “Zeppelin, you have good taste.”

Lily stood up on wonky legs, grabbing the hem of her shirt as she lifted it over her head. Calum looked away but the brief glimpse of a matching black lace bra made his breath catch again.

“Okay, I’m decent.” Lily said in a quiet voice.

Calum looked at the way the shirt hung like a dress down to her mid thigh. She looked adorable slipping on her adidas. She could make any outfit work.

“Still hungry?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure I can’t force you to take money for this?” Lily sighed.

“No way. How do you feel?”

“It hurts a little but you were right about not having the added pressure of jeans.” Lily said, “so… let me grab my stuff then we can get food.”

Calum cleaned up the station while Lily put all her clothes into her bag, taking one look at the tattoo in the mirror and admiring his handy work. She couldn’t wait till she could take off the bandage and see it clearly but she knew it was beautiful.

Calum met her at the front of the shop and locked up. The night was warm, the first breath of summer having swept over the city that day, lingering in the air.

They walked in silence down the street to the shawarma place.

They both ordered the same thing, once again proving how much they had in common. When Calum pulled out his wallet, Lily thrust a twenty at the man at the till, “I’m paying for all of it.” she stated.

“Don’t take her money-” Calum warned the guy.

But Lily glared him down, “sorry man.” the vender said, taking the twenty.

Calum sighed and the two of them waited for their wraps to be made. When handed the warm food, Lily stated: “there’s a park close by and we could sit on a bench and eat or something.”

“Good idea.” Calum said.

They began to eat their wraps as they walked, staying mostly quiet but Lily was oddly okay with that. She usually got fidgety with silence and at first, that had applied to Calum, but sometime in the past little while, the awkwardness that usually came with lack of conversation had disappeared.

They sat on the park bench and ate, chatting a little. Easy conversation about apprenticeships. Calum was confident that Lily wouldn’t need as long as the others had which made Lily’s heart race. “You’re really talented.” he assured her, “wouldn’t surprise me if you’d be good to go in under a year actually.”

“I didn’t realize you could just choose how long the apprenticeship is.”

“Well, I mean, usually there are rules, but I think at the end of the day it’s based on my decision. And I could offer you a job at the parlour so that way, its sort of still like an apprenticeship.”

“You’d hire me? Just like that?” Lily asked.

“You’re really good Lily.” he stated, “I knew it the second I saw your application. And so did Michael.”

They chatted about how he got into tattooing.

They chatted until it began to get cold and Lily began to shiver. She pulled out her large denim jacket and seeing her in two things that were way too large was almost too much for Calum in some odd way.

He tried not to look at her but it was very difficult.

Especially her legs. God, he adored her legs already.

“So I should get going.” Lily said when it got to be around ten.

“Yeah me too.” Calum said as they both stood.

Again, there was an awkward moment of whether or not they should hug.

Calum’s self control disappeared as he wrapped his arms around the smaller artist, pulling her against his chest. She hugged back, cheek pressed against his front for a moment before they both pulled away, “get home safe.” he said, voice low and crackly as he cleared his throat.

“I will.”

They turned and went their separate ways with smiles on their faces.

----

On Monday, Lily walked into the shop with a short little leather skirt that, once again, had Calum’s pants getting insanely tight. She breezed in with a smile and a wave to Ashton and Michael who were gawking at her from the reception desk, walking straight to Calum. “So I took the bandage off!” she grinned.

“Let’s see.” Calum said, scooting forward on his stool with a smile. And then, Lily simply lifted up her skirt, completely flashing him a new, adorable, red and black lace thong that took Calum’s attention a moment too long before he had to force his eyes to the tattoo.

“How’s your aftercare?” he asked.

Lily rolled her eyes, “my aftercare is on point Hood.”

He chuckled, “stop flashing me.”

“Fuck, right.” Lily pulled down her skirt, red spreading over her delicate collar bones.

The first few hours were insanely difficult for Calum. It was like every spare moment, his brain would think about those god damned lacy panties.

Instead of taking a lunch break, Lily went up front with Ashton. Calum’s gaze was on her, watching them chat. He didn’t even notice Luke pull his chair over to be next to Calum as Calum waited for his next client.

“So you shouldn’t be looking because in a way, you’re her boss but I can look for you.” Luke stated.

Calum rolled his eyes but tore his gaze away, knowing Luke was right about some things and unfortunately this was one of them.

He had to be professional.

He had to be.

Another week passed and Calum managed to keep his eyes away from the gorgeous blonde and her little skirts. He was almost too good at keeping it professional and his friends noticed.

Luke, Ashton and Michael were at a bar after work when Michael brought it up, “so we need to do something about Lily and Cal.”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked.

“They need to fuck.” Michael stated, “like, I can’t focus with all the sexual tension.”

“Cal won’t act on it.” Ashton said, and they all knew he was right.

Michael groaned, “fuck, I know, we need to make him act on it.”

“How?” Luke laughed.

And that's how Michael's mission began.

His plans were never good.

He took Lily and Cal to a bar then excused himself to go to the bathroom ten minutes in.

He never came back.

Calum had sighed when it became obvious Michael had dipped out, coming up with the only thing he could think of to talk about, “so… netflix.”

Turned out they were both horror movie fans and they’d sat and chatted and agreed about everything for two hours before Calum finally suggested they head out, it was obvious that the yawning girl in front of him was tired from her long day at work.

Calum caught onto Michael’s plan pretty fast and Michael spent many hours coming up with new ways to get Lily and Cal together outside of work.

It was another month before Michael suggested that he needed a workout buddy.

Calum had cocked an eyebrow at him, “you want to work out?”

“Yeah.” Michael tried to sound excited about it but it lacked conviction, “hey, Lily, do you work out?”

“I go for a run every now and again.” she answered, focusing on her drawing.

“A run! That sounds…” for a moment he looked like he was going to try to be enthusiastic but then he broke, “I mean it sounds like torture but I need one I think.”

“Thats something I’d like to see.” Calum chuckled.

“We should all go for a run.”

“I’m in.” Lily said absentmindedly.

Calum’s gaze flickered to her then to Michael who was waiting expectantly. He knew it was another ploy but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see Michael in workout gear. “Fine, I’ll come too.”

“Great! Sunday morning?”

----

Michael did not show up on Sunday morning. He sent a text saying he’d meet the pair half way through their run at the park and that they should go without him.

It was a beautiful morning. The day promised to be hot but the morning was cool, sun shining against the morning dew on the grass.

The two began to jog and stayed quiet as they ran.

It wasn’t a surprise when Michael didn’t show up at the halfway mark.

In fact, neither of them even noticed.

As the morning began to get warmer, they were both sweating and Calum finally suggested they stop. LIly collapsed onto a park bench pulling out her water bottle as Calum took off his shirt that was practically soaked.

He groaned at the feel of the air on his newly revealed skin and Lily nearly choked on her water at his gorgeous chest which was covered in tattoos, and perfectly muscular.

“Your tattoos-” she began.

Calum looked down at her, “you like them?”

“They’re beautiful, can… can I-” she began to ask awkwardly.

“Yeah, look as much as you want.” he stepped forward so he could be closer, giving her a better view as she began with the tattoos just under his collar bones.

He explained each one as she went down, watching her focus completely on the black marks that littered his skin.

By the time she got to his abdomen, Lily was surprised she wasn’t drooling. Completely bewitched by each tattoo and the story that came with it.

There was one particular tattoo, just above the waistband of his shorts, and it was so delicately intricate and beautiful, she couldn’t even help herself as she reached out and brushed her fingers against his skin.

His abs immediately flexed, Calum having not expected her prying digits, Lily pulled away immediately, “oh my god I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine.” Calum assured her, knowing another anxiety ridden stammering rant was coming on, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

She was already blushing like crazy and Calum was sure it wasn’t from being hot from the run, “hey, would you look at the time!” Lily said, pulling out her phone, “I have places to be.”

“Yeah me too.” Calum lied.

“Well! Nice run!” Lily stood abruptly. There was no awkward move for a hug, they both simply turned opposite ways and ran.

Lily’s heart was racing in her chest. She hadn’t meant to touch him, she just hadn’t been able to help herself. God. He was so fucking hot. She couldn’t even deal with it anymore.

She’d had recurring dreams for over a week of having Calum between her legs like when he was giving her the tattoo, but in her dreams he always had a very different reason for being there.

Likewise, Calum had been so god damned close to letting her explore him with her hands. Her fingers had felt so good. It was insane that her touch had brought electricity coursing through his body like nothing, even the sting of a tattoo gun, had ever done before.

As soon as Calum got home he ran a cold shower, letting the water run over his body but even the shock of the temperature couldn’t distract him. He was in deep already, and he knew it.

----

The others all watched as Lily and Calum interacted the next day.

“The sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife.” Ashton pointed out.

“Do you think anything happened?” Luke asked, taking a bite out of his cucumber.

“I am one hundred percent confident my plan worked.” Michael stated.

“You wanna put money on it?” Luke grinned.

“Fuck yeah, twenty bucks says they fucked.” Michael scoffed.

“Deal.” Luke pushed off of the reception table and walked towards Cal and Lily who were going over the client list for the day. “Cal, I need to ask you something.” he said.

“Go for it.” Calum said, not even looking up.

“Privately.”

Calum sighed, standing and following Luke to the reception desk, “what do you want?”

“We want to know if you finally made a move yesterday.” Luke whispered.

“Fuck are you guys serious?!” Calum groaned, “I am not talking about this.”

He turned and walked back to Lily.

“You owe me twenty.” Luke stated.

“What? No I don’t!” Michael screamed.

“Nothing happened. He’s all wound up still. Nothing happened.”

“He’s got you there.” Ashton pointed out.

“Whose side are you even on you traitor?” Michael glared at Ashton while pulling out his wallet. He handed Luke a twenty.

It had to be, by far, the hardest day for Calum (in more ways than one.)

All he could think about was getting her fingers on his skin again.

He managed to get through most of the day but as the others cleared out until it was just him and Lily, once again, he was in a tough situation.

His last client listened to music with earphones the whole tattoo, leaving Calum and Lily to silence.

He was hyper aware of her as she watched him do the more difficult shading.

He let her wipe away the excess ink and put on the bandage, “you deal with this, I’ll be in the back, there’s a room that needs to be cleaned-”

“The private room? Michael cleaned it after he did that girls tit tattoo.”

“Like I said, it needs to be cleaned a little more.” Calum said.

She watched him go into the back and took the client to the front, taking his payment. The guy left and she locked the front door, turning off the open sign before going to find Calum in the back.

She found him in the private room, standing tall as he wiped down a table. She could only see his back but damn was it a pretty back.

Her heart was thundering in her chest.

She knew what she wanted.

And the logical part of Lily told her that he wanted it too, but the anxious little nugget side wondered ‘what if he doesn’t and you’re about to straight up try to get in your boss’s pants?’

It was a risk.

And Lily did not take risks.

But shit, she couldn’t help herself anymore.

Calum set down the cloth and turned to look at Lily, “you’re done for the day, you can go home.” he said, arms crossing over his broad chest, the tattoos covering his forearms looking absolutely delicious.

“Can I show you my tattoo? Its healed so nicely-”

Calum cocked an eyebrow at her, “go for it.”

He could see the anxiety written all over her face. And she hadn’t tried to show him the tat in a while which he was almost grateful for. Almost. He wondered where this was going to take them.

Lily hesitantly lifted up her skirt and Calum stepped closer to get a better look. Before he could help himself he was on his knees and Lily’s breath caught in her throat.

His fingers brushed over the skin, so lightly that if it wasn’t for the shocks running through her body, she wouldn’t have even been sure if he was making contact.

“Calum, I need to say something.” she said, shocked at her own voice.

He hummed, waiting for her to speak.

“This is going to be the most inappropriate thing I’ve ever said and I’ve said a lot of inappropriate things, fuck, I swear like a trucker half the time, and this is going to fuck me over so bad but I can’t just not say it anymore.” she ranted as Calum stood. At his full height, he towered over her and it distracted her momentarily, loving how he completely dwarfed her. She let out a shaky breath, eyes lingering on his lips momentarily, “fuck.” she cussed.

Calum smirked, “say what you have to say sweetheart.”

The pet name made her heart leap in her chest and she wet her lips subconsciously, “this is so unprofessional.” she groaned.

“Sounds like you have to get it off your chest. And you’re off the clock.” he reminded her.

“Fuck. I really like you.”

That was all he needed.

Calum cupped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. She melted against him, her hands going to the front of his jeans to pull him flush against her. Calum bit down on her lip and Lily moaned loudly into his mouth. Calum was hard in an instant.

His grip went down to her waist as he pushed her back until she hit the tattooing chair, the impact of her bum against the chair made her groan and Calum’s hands moved farther down, grabbing at the fabric of her leather skirt that he dragged up to her hips, exposing the black panties that had been haunting his dreams since he’d first seen them.

His mouth was hot and needy against hers, teeth and tongues clashing in a fiery passion as her fingers went to his hair, grabbing at the thick, dark curls. Calum moaned into her mouth from the small twinge of pain, his grip tightening on her thighs as he lifted her and set her onto the chair.

It was flat, making it easy for him to set her anywhere he liked as he pulled his lips from hers and tore her panties down her legs, shoving them into his back pocket. “Calum.” Lily whimpered, voice needy. His breath wafted over her as he got on his knees on the ground, putting her legs over his shoulders.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as he studied the tattoo for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the skin that he had marred forever. It was so hot, for both of them, but Lily was anxiously awaiting his mouth as if her life depended on it.

“Please.” she said in the neediest voice Calum had ever heard. He nearly groaned at the sound, turning his attention to where she needed him most.

Calum closed his eyes as he took his first testing lick, wanting to enjoy every moment, every sound, every motion. Calum loved eating girls out, he never got tired of the control, the power, that being between a woman's legs brought him.

Lily shuddered at the first contact of his tongue against her and all of Calum’s self control that he had been so desperately trying to hold onto went out the window. He put his mouth on her fully, hands gripping her thighs as he sucked her clit into his mouth. A loud moan was music to his ears as he focused on the small bundle of nerves, sucking as hard as he thought she could handle.

“Jesus fuck.” Lily moaned, tugging at his hair.

He loved it when she swore.

He loved being the cause of her swearing.

He flicked his tongue against her clit and she cried out louder, both of their grips tightening on each other.

“Fuck Cal I’m gonna-” but she didn’t get to finish her sentence. Calum sucked harder and Lily fell over the edge, moans and whimpers ringing through the small private room as he body convulsed and Calum helped her through it. She was still shuddering when he pulled away, licking his lips as he stood.

She looked so beautiful, skin flushed, just as he liked it.

He gingerly pushed the denim jacket from her shoulders and it slipped to the ground, then his fingers went to the hem of her shirt, pulling that off too. Lily’s eyes were still closed, still in a post orgasm haze as he slowly undressed her, taking his time as his fingers brushed over the tattoos on her arms.

Lily’s eyes fluttered open and Calum enjoyed the beautiful chocolate coloured eyes that looked up at him with lust. Her hands were shaky as she reached out and began to unbuckle his pants.

Calum pressed his lips to hers, reaching around to unclasp her bra. The second the fabric felt away, the slowness was gone, once more replaced by complete passion and lust as Lily pushed Calum’s pants down fully.

She grabbed his hard on and Calum moaned loudly into her mouth as she pumped him a few times, “condoms-” he groaned.

“Birth control.” she stated.

Calum moaned again, “holy fuck.”

He took off his shirt while she continued to work his cock with her hands but as soon as the fabric was gone, he grabbed her fingers, tearing them away and instead putting them on his abdomen, on the skin she’d touched the day before.

He pulled her closer, teasing her entrance with the head of his cock.

“Please.” she whimpered, one of her hands going up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his lips to hers.

Lily bit down into Calum’s lip and he smirked at the small spasm of pain coursing through his body. He plunged inside of her and Lily moaned, immediately releasing his lip from between her teeth as she gasped into his mouth.

His hands found her waist, anchoring them both as he began to thrust in and out. His hips were buckling of their own accord, Calum completely enraptured by the small, tattooed, blond sitting on his private tattooing chair.

He moved his lips to her neck, biting down against the skin as her fingers tightened in his hair, her lips near his ear as she whimpered loudly, biting down on his ear lobe.

He sucked at her neck, teeth grazing the skin teasingly.

One of her hands moved to his strong shoulders, nails digging against the skin so hard Calum was sure she would leave marks.

But, as they both knew, they both enjoyed pain.

He was getting too close to the edge and he knew it, pulling out of Lily, she whimpered in protest, only to be harshly dragged from the chair and turned around, hips slamming into the soft leather as his hand went to her back, pushing her front so she was flush against the fabric.

He entered her from behind and they both moaned, the new angle hitting a new spot inside of her that was driving them both insane. His hands on her waist easily moved her body to meet every thrust.

Calum was completely using her, and she was enjoying every moment.

A hand wrapped in her blonde hair, tugging so she was standing, back against his chest. His hand moved from her hair to wrap around her front, briefly grabbing her boob and teasing the nipple. Her back arched and she moaned loudly as his hand moved higher still, tattooed fingers wrapping around Lily’s throat.

Her heart was racing in her chest and with the added pressure on her neck, she was seeing stars. Whiney, high pitched whimpers were leaving her pretty lips and Calum was basking in the noise but fuck, he wanted to engulf them. He wanted to breath her.

But the chair wouldn’t do. It was hot, but it wouldn’t work.

This time when Calum pulled out, he dragged the two of them onto the ground, Lily landing on top. She straddled his waist, wasting no time before she sank down on top of him, her hands finding his tattoos chest to anchor herself as she began to move up and down on him.

His hands went to her waist and he looked up at her in wonder as she found a steady rhythm. Little moans left her mouth as she collapsed forward, lips pressing against Calum’s as one of his hands found her hair.

The hand on her hip tried tried to assist her, urging for her to move faster. It was amazing, but Calum was getting impatient again, wanting all the power. All the control.

He flipped them easily and Lily hissed at the cold of the ground on her back but the feeling was immediately forgotten as Calum picked up the fasted rhythm yet.

Her nails tore into his back and their mouths were close but their lips barely touched as they panted against each other. “Fuck.” Lily said, voice shaky, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too.” Calum moaned, pistoning into her like a wild man. They were both on the edge and one more thrust engulfed Lily, her body fluttering and convulsing around him which made Calum reach his high too.

He spasmed a little, giving a few more thrusts as their hands tore at each other, mouths hot and pressed together, tongues clashing.

He slowed down and buried his face in her neck, holding himself over her with his forearms.

Lily’s fingers traced Calum’s strong shoulders, “wow.” she breathed.

Calum chuckled, placing one last kiss to her neck before he pulled out and rolled onto the ground next to her.

They both stared at the ceiling, trying to catch their breaths.

Calum sat up and Lily got a good look at his back. She’d broken the skin in three places but it looked beautiful.

Calum groaned, pulling his jeans on. He stood up and buttoned them. Lily appreciated the beautiful man, clad in jeans, looking gorgeous.

He walked to the sink, grabbing some paper towels. He got on his knees between Lily’s legs and cleaned her up, making sure the tattoo was completely wiped. “Birth control.” he smirked, “fucking love it.”

Lily laughed, hiding her face with her hands.

He tossed out the paper towels and came to lie next to her again, pulling her to his side so he could wrap his arm around her.

“We are so fucked.” Lily groaned.

Calum laughed.

They were.

“So… shawarma?” Lily asked.

Calum laughed again, “that’s what I was thinking.”

“Really?” Lily rolled over, hand going to Calum’s chest as she looked up at him.

“We’re the same person. It’s kind of weird actually.”

“If we’re the same person, then what am I thinking right now?” Lily asked.

“You’re thinking that after the schwarma, you should come back to my place and we can trace each others tattoos, go a little slower, and I can make you cum more than just twice.”

Lily laughed, “We must really be connected.”

----

When Calum and Lily walked into the tattoo parlour the next morning, each with a black, iced coffee, it was obvious what had happened.

She was even wearing one of his shirts, paired with the same skirt she’d worn the day before.

There was a mark on her neck.

“It’s like they’re not even trying to hide it.” Michael mused.

“He’s so whipped.” Ashton giggled.

He was.

The guys waited until they could get Calum alone when Lily went on a lunch break to finally ask Calum what happened.

“So are you two finally dating or what?” Luke asked blatantly.

Calum turned to look at them and a flash of pain marred his face momentarily, “uh-”

“You okay?” Ashton asked with concern.

Calum’s eyes widened a little and Michael laughed, “did she tear up your back mate?!”

“She did!” Luke laughed, “she totally did.”

Calum blushed and everyone's eyes widened.

Calum Hood never blushed.

Ashton smirked, “So when’s the wedding?”

----

They spend almost every waking hour together that whole week.

Then the next.

The third week, cuddled in his bed, Duke tucked against Lily’s side, Calum finally asked the question: “want to be my girlfriend?”

He didn’t do love. But he’d never met a girl like Lily before. The past weeks had made him rethink everything he’d ever known to be true. About love, life, happiness.

Everything had changed.

Lily looked up at Calum, finger tracing one of the tattoos on his chest, “yeah.” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

Calum met her gaze, cupping her face to bring her lips to his.

He smiled against her lips, “Thank god for your fucking florals.”

-----

It was no shock that one month became two and two became three.

Attached at the hip like twins, always together, they were the perfect fit. It got to a point where it was almost like they knew what the other was thinking.

Lily was a year into her apprenticeship when Calum announced that it would be her last week. They’d gone out to celebrate, Calum and Lily had even disappeared to the bathroom to celebrate a little in private, much to the dismay of Ashton and Luke, and the glee of Michael.

Calum didn’t even bother to ask Lily what tattoo she had planned for him. He trusted her completely.

The day finally came and once the shop closed, everyone sat around with booze while they watched Lily and Calum. “Pick the place baby.” he smiled.

Lily took his right arm and chose the spot she’d drawn the first chrysanthemum on all those months ago. Calum didn’t look as she drew the pattern, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

He chatted easily, unflinching, with the guys as the buzz of the gun softly filled the room.

“How’s it looking Mike?” Calum asked.

Michael leaned over, looking at Lily’s marks, “looks sick.” Michael grinned.

A little while longer and Lily was cleaning the skin, “okay, you’re all done.” she stated.

Calum brought her lips to his for a kiss before looking down at the tattoo.

He had accepted it would be floral, in fact, he’d been excited about finally having floral.

And he wasn’t disappointed. In fact, his heart swelled in his chest.

Two beautiful Chrysanthemums and a Lily. A little, perfect bouquet, just for him.

“The chrysanthemums so we match-” she began to explain.

“And the Lily because you’re you.” Calum finished for her. Lily flushed and Calum grinned, “Can’t get rid of you now can I?” he teased, “I love it.”

And he did.

But not as much as he loved the woman who had marked his body forever.

Not as much as he loved his Lily.

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