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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

318 notes · View notes

neilthefoxjosten · 6 years

Note

Helllloooo! Here’s a writing prompt , Andreil breakup? One where Andrew catches Neil about to run? I am ALL for the angst

Girl me too, I love me some angst! Thanks for the prompt, here we go!

Lips pressed together, hands knotted into hair, breath shared between the small space they held themselves in; Andrew felt like he was falling and the longer it went on the more devastating the crash.

Neil doesn’t protest when Andrew jerked away, doesn’t follow as Andrew escaped. Andrew slipped outside, lit a cigarette, and drew. He held the smoke in his lungs.

A count of four, exhale, smoke curling skyward. There was too much feeling where there should be none, a pipedream to good to be real, too real to last.

Andrew stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette under his shoe and went back inside, a mug of fresh hot chocolate left still steaming on the table beside the coach. The mug was a miserably bright orange, doubtlessly one of Neil’s. Seeing it twisted Andrew’s stomach in a way that he didn’t want to consider.

Andrew poured it down the sink without taking a sip.

**************************************************************************************************

Neil knew something was wrong, it was clear in the broken off kisses, solo cigarettes, and locked doors.

He knew better than to push, Andrew had been pushed more than enough in his life.

Instead, Neil took what was offered, gave everything he could in truths, and sweets, and space, and let the days of winter break tick by.

It came to a head when Andrew came back late, the telltale spots of purposeful purple shown with knowing precision, on Andrew’s neck and over his collarbone.

Neil felt something inside him break, something nameless turned jagged, but he doesn’t say a word. Andrew was never his, and he’d always promised he’d lose interest.

Instead of words, Neil grabbed his keys, carefully not watching Andrew threw his coat onto the couch and headed to the shower. Didn’t notice, wouldn’t notice, that Andrew didn’t spare him a glance.

With deceptively calm fingers Neil teased out a key from his ring, and then another. Placed beside a cooling mug of hot chocolate they looked almost picturesque.

Neil left the door locked behind him.

It took everything he had not to look back.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew didn’t believe in regret.

Seeing the two keys on the table, one for the front door of the house, the other for the car; Andrew thought he might have to reconsider.

**************************************************************************************************Wymack didn’t question Neil when he knocked despite the hour being shockingly close to sunrise. Neil, in turn, doesn’t offer much in the way of explanation, muttering a thanks to the coach before crashing on the couch. The rest could wait, for now, Neil would sleep and hope he’d wake to an earlier time.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew hardly saw Neil outside of Exy practice, the team seeming to have taken several steps back since they had left for break. Andrew didn’t care about that, ignoring Wymack’s tirades and Kevin’s rants. He stood idly in the goal as it lit up red time after time.

Night practice afforded him more glimpses of Neil, though the striker had taken to meeting him and Kevin at the court and running back alone afterward, returning to his new hole up in Boyd’s room night after night.

Andrew didn’t miss the slow disappearance of clothes from Neil’s drawers, finding yet another key left behind once they’re empty of everything but the clothes that they had gotten him for Eden’s.

Andrew pushed away the stir of feelings instead of trying to decipher them, locking them away with the key he dropped in with the abandoned clothes.

Nicky scampered out of his way as Andrew left the bedroom, going first to the roof and then the amphitheater. Being on the roof felt too much like hitting the ground.

Andrew almost missed falling.

**************************************************************************************************

The first game back was borderline disastrous, a win wrestled away from the Catamounts by the skin of the Foxes’ teeth. Palmetto was back to the team they were pre-Neil, Class I on raw talent with a disruptive lack of organization, an unplayable apathetic Andrew with neither the promise of sobriety or Neil able to make him raise a racquet.

Wymack was fuming in the locker room for debrief, waiting on Dan and Nicky to join after they had broken off to deal with the press. Once they entered the room, before they could even sit, he began.

“I don’t know who was playing on my court tonight but it wasn’t the Foxes I’ve been training for the past four months.” Preston, the freshmen goalie, looked cowed, but the rest of the team preferred either no reaction or a pointed glare at Andrew. The blond didn’t react.

“Your personal lives may be out of my pay grade but if it’s going to interfere with my team then it becomes my problem. So figure it out, before our match against ASU. Dismissed.” Andrew is the out of the door, followed quickly by the freshman, Aaron, and Kevin. The rest of the team spared Neil anxious looks, they hadn’t missed that he’d been talking less off the court, but they follow after as well; Neil acting as the tail.

“Neil,” Matt dropped back in step with Neil, speaking softly so the others couldn’t hear. “If you ever need to talk you know I have your back, right?” Neil managed him a weak smile, fake enough even the freshmen wouldn’t fall for it.

“I’m fine Matt, thanks.” The words felt counterfeit but it was all he had. Matt looked unconvinced, but let Neil push past him. “Don’t wait up for me after.” Neil didn’t wait to see Matt’s face fall, stepping into a stall, shedding his clothes, and turning the water all the way up.

He could feel his skin turning pink under the spray’s heat but he doesn’t care enough to adjust it, instead setting his face to the cool wall as the water pounded against his scarred back, carrying sweat and weakness away with it.

**************************************************************************************************

Andrew didn’t wait for his monsters to finish showering, getting into the Maserati with still damp hair.

He drove aimlessly around campus for a while, speed to slow to do any good at detangling the knotted thorns that had taken hold of his chest, a knot that seemed to grow and constrict by the day and hour.

He found himself back at the Foxhole Court, parking lot completely empty of fans and players alike. Save one, redheaded striker only now just making to leave. Andrew pulled up beside him, rolling down the window but saying nothing. Neil’s hair was still wet, dark where it curled over downcast eyes.

A few breaths pass and Andrew almost pulled away, thinking himself unwelcome, before the door opened and Neil climbed in.

The window is rolled up and they drive for a few minutes in silence, radio muted, before Andrew leaned over. He clicked open the glove box.

“Something of yours is in there.” Andrew doesn’t miss the nervous flit of Neil’s eyes, and swallowed. The knot tightened so hard around his lungs he could hardly breathe. It was worse than falling.

Neil reached forward with careful fingers, pulling out the trio of keys with stunted breath. Andrew can feel blue eyes on him but continued to stare at the road. He needed to turn the words over and over in his head, weeding out any uncertainty.

Two minutes passed before Andrew finally opened his mouth. “I made a mistake.” The knot loosened its hold by just a margin, letting him suck in a breath. It was the opposite of his fingers, tightened around the wheel.

“I- we were never-” Andrew cut him off, veering sharply to the side of the road.

“We were. I hurt you.” Andrew tapped his fingers against the wheel. “I didn’t realize.” Neil’s eyes were wide, fingers white around the keys. They would leave marks. “He didn’t do anything else.” Neil’s eyes fell to the loop, fist opening and closing around the keys. It settled on closed when he looked up.

“What now?” Andrew’s chest finally loosened at the question, thorns retreating as he held the answer off by lighting two cigarettes. He handed one to Neil, feeling fingers curl around it.

“That’s up to you.” Andrew took a drag, seeing Neil mirror him.

“Nicky’s been missing Eden’s.” Andrew shifted back to drive and pulled back onto the street.

“If they’re not ready in fifteen minutes we’re leaving without them. Make sure they grab us something presentable to wear.” Neil nodded and sent the text, the rest of the monsters waiting for them at Fox Tower, with a bundle of clothes in Nicky’s arms. They pile into the car.

“Did you guys finally make up?” Nicky asked immediately, voice loud in excitement. Neil beat Andrew to the radio, turning it up loud as a warning.

Andrew was feeling, but it really wasn’t that much like falling. It just took him too long to figure it out.

Okay this is unedited and I hate the last sentence but I tried! I’ll probably edit it and post it to a03 by weeks end. I hope everyone liked it, even with the angst. I’m still taking requests should anyone wanna shoot me an ask!~ Thanks for reading, please leave some feedback if y’all can!

Edit- I lied, I literally just posted it to AO3- FatesofConquest

#fox answers #fox rambles #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #kinda angsty #breakups hurt #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #thanks for the prompt!#I used the asterisks because it doesnt linebreak nicely on mobile #oh well

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thealchemyth · 4 years

Text

Dancing With Dust

Chapter 1: Indelibility

Genre: Magical Realism

Word count: 1,677

Summary:

Phan is doing fine in his everyday life; studying magic under the tutelage of his eccentric master, hanging out with his annoying friends that he can't live without, enjoying his college life, and probably failing at Potion again but that's fine.

What he last needs is catching feelings for the most annoying sentient being on this planet who also might be his master's new disciple. And admitting it feels like a punch in the gut.

He's not fine.

A/N:

Every character in this story has two names: birth name and chosen name. They usually prefer to go by their chosen name and keep their birth name a secret. The importance of a birth name depends on the wizards themselves; some of them might feel that being called by their birth name is a symbol of intimacy and some feel that it doesn't represent their identity and hence, could be thrown away if they feel like it.

Benefactors or Wizard Masters are well-respected members of colleges of wizardry. They are either professors or grandmasters in said college.

The college the main characters enrolled in is Ganesha college of wizardry. It has four houses: Garuda, Lembuswana, Barong, and Naga.

The first time they met, it was uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was the way he came up to him and acted friendly and immediately asked for permission to call him by his nickname. Perhaps it was the way he smiled with the hint of amusement hinted at the curve of his lips. Perhaps it was the way he looked at him with raised eyebrows, expecting a response as if he had the obligation to.

It began with him and his friend, Clarity, stuck in an empty lab brewing Inversalius potion, which according to the book, was supposed to have an effect to reverse genetic mutation if brewed properly. But so far, the color of the potion didn't show any indication of being 'brewed properly'.

Professor Adhyaksa gave them a pitying look as he gave permission for them to use the lab earlier. Perhaps he understood that for most of the students, potion wasn't the most favorite subject. And that the amount of students who failed reached the level of outstanding.

The little jars — which mostly contained organs from varied magical creatures and herbs — felt like mocking them. It also didn't help that the temperature was too hot to their liking that even the cooling rune they drew every hour only gave little comfort. Clarity kept tying and untying her carnation pink hair in desperation. Meanwhile, his black with blue highlight hair kept reaching a new level of messiness the more it was exposed to the potion smoke he honestly gave up trying to keep them looking presentable.

It was somewhere during their peak of suffering that someone opened the door to the lab and made him so startled that he almost dropped the mixing spoon. He thought it was Professor Adhyaksa at first; perhaps he came to say their time was up or something. But once he looked up and opened his mouth to form an apology — and maybe beg for another additional time, he found that the one coming in was another student; from the house of Naga if the emblem embroidered on his tie was any indication.

"Hey, are you the one named Phantasia?" The boy asked after he walked over to him and Clarity, suspiciously looking like he already knew which empty lab they were currently using; his head tilted to the side as he looked at him. His hair was a nice combination of gray and brown with some of his bangs falling nicely to hide part of his forehead, and his hand casually wrapped around Clarity's shoulders as he sat beside her to insert his presence and make it impossible to ignore. His eyes, Phan noticed, appeared to be a warm shade of chocolate; and they looked bright and friendly and innocent-looking as if he didn't just barge in uninvited.

"I've heard about you from Clarity. Can I call you Phan?"

Phan frowned, looking sideways to their apparently mutual friend, Clarity, whose shoulder was borrowed, and silently asking who the heck that was and why he was acting so familiar.

Clarity only snorted in amusement.

Phan's gaze returned to the intruder whose face he finally recognized from a few encounters they had before (even if they had never talked) — in the hallways, in front of the classrooms, at the training ground, in the canteen.

Talking to new people was never part of Phan's ability, especially the too-friendly type. His frown deepened as he answered icily, "No." And it was almost venomous too. His gaze slid back to the small, sad-looking cauldron he was using which contained asparagus green potion; and it looked as pathetic as the cauldron itself if Phan was honest.

He did not want to hear about what Clarity said about him to…whoever this guy was. And he did not want to get involved in a stranger's business.

"That's too bad. I'm Vadimas, by the way," the boy continued to say, standing up and rounding the table so he was standing right in front of Phan. "Thank you for the warm welcome."

Phan heard him chuckle. And he sent a glare after Vadimas put his hands on the table whilst leaning into his personal space.

"You're annoying the shit out of him, you know that right?" Clarity pointed out but without a bite and not without a chuckle. "When I said make a good first impression, I didn't mean it like this."

Vadimas pouted, but quickly recovered as he paid her no mind anymore. He crouched down and put his hands on top of another as he sent Phan what people might call puppy eyes.

"So, Phan. Phantasia, apologies for bothering your time. That was rude of me, but could you at least hear me out first, pretty please?"

Phan glanced at him for a moment before sliding his gaze back to check on his potion which almost turned to a worrying shade of gray as he stirred. And the smoke attacking their faces smelled too sour to be called a successful result.

"What do you want?" He said, finally after a long pause, albeit half-heartedly. And somehow, he could imagine Vadimas' expression brightened even without glancing at him. "And how did you find us here?"

"Mmm," Vadimas pretended to think, lifting his hand and touching his chin with his fingers; a silver ring sat comfortably on his pointer finger, giving occasional glint when the light hit it at the right angle. "A little mouse might have blabbered to me that you two would study together for the Advanced Potion exam after class — and oh, she said you're kinda hopeless in that subject, by the way — in exchange for caramel canonball*."

At that, Phan immediately whipped his head to the side to glare at his friend who, in turn, hid her face behind the second edition of 'Advanced Potion Making' textbook so only a mop of pink hair could be seen.

"As for the first question," Vadimas continued as he grinned sheepishly, saving Clarity from almost being hexed. "I actually need a favor."

Before Phan could open his mouth, Vadimas clapped his hands together in a pleading gesture to halt whatever kind of rejection his brain came up with. "Could you possibly arrange a meeting with your benefactor for me? I need to talk to him about urgent matters," pleaded Vadimas with the hopeful tone coloring his words.

Phan blinked; stunned. It was so out of the blue. "With Master May? What for?"

"My current benefactor is about to work abroad and she recommended that I come to yours. And I really need a new benefactor if I still want to stay in this college. So, please?"

Ah, shit.

Phan bit his lip as he considered the sudden request. Benefactors were essential in wizards' education system. They were the guardian as well as mentor that young wizards' parents sent their children to for learning about basic magic and everything related to it. They didn't have to live with their benefactors, but some of them preferred that for different reasons.

And when the wizards reached age 19, their benefactors would register their disciples to the universities they had affiliation with.

But, out of all benefactors available, why Master May?

"Why didn't your benefactor contact mine themselves?" Phan asked curiously; his head tilted slightly, mirroring Vadimas' gesture earlier. "Surely, discussion between benefactors directly would bring a better result."

"Err, how to put this," Vadimas gave a pause and looked sideways. His hand came up to rest at his neck before running his palm on it as he thought. "My benefactor and yours have a, uh, complicated relationship. She only said that in order to arrange a meeting with Master Mayhem, I have to talk to his disciple. And I only know that it's the guy from the house of Garuda. But luckily, I know an insider."

Vadimas glanced at Clarity, which was then confirmed by her with a nod.

"...How complicated?" Phan inquired. Master May, short for Mayhem as Vadimas pointed, was a bit eccentric. And even that might be an understatement. And, like Phan, he was difficult to approach and didn't have patience for any bullshit. "And if that's so, why wouldn't she recommend you another benefactor? Besides, Master May only accepts one disciple at a time."

Clarity nudged gently at his elbow, pulling his gaze away from Vadimas. "Because his benefactor is Master Salva."

Phan mouthed 'ah' at the unexpected revelation. That answered all of his questions, then. But still. "There's no guarantee that Master May will be willing to accept you, though."

The 'are you sure you still want to try' was left unsaid but obviously understood from the hopeful and determined look Vadimas was giving him.

The other boy nodded firmly. "Just leave the persuading to me."

"...Alright." Phan shrugged, "it's your business, anyway."

"You'll do it?!" Vadimas jumped and reached for his hand as excitement overtook him which made Phan jerk back almost immediately.

Noticing his touch was unwelcomed, Vadimas released his hand with an apologetic look. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Phan lowered his gaze and nodded slightly. "You're welcome," he said drily whilst feeling the heat spreading on his face.

Vadimas gave him an ear-to-ear grin, looking so pleased. "Thank you," he uttered softly; the sincerity that bled from those two words sent a fluttering sensation in Phan's stomach.

"Oh anyway, your potion is incomplete. It lacks salamander eyeball and snotty beans," Vadimas jerked his head toward the small cauldron. "See you later, Phan!"

And then he was out the door. Just like that.

"How the heck did he figure that out?" Clarity grumbled, flipping through the pages frantically.

"Who even allowed him to call me Phan!" He cried and put down the mixing spoon, giving up on stirring the ridiculous potion.

When Clarity was busy checking through the shelves and jars for the ingredients Vadimas mentioned, Phan's right hand rested on top of his left wrist. The weight of someone else's hand still lingered there. Vividly. And hauntingly.

It felt uncomfortable.

So uncomfortable that his ears turned red.

*: Phan and Clarity's favorite snacks. It's a bag of small chocolate caramel balls that would explode once they're inside your mouth.

#original fiction #original work #Original male character/Original male character #original character #magical realism #School of wizardry #Non-western setting #Emotional hurt/comfort #Hurt/comfort #Dancing With Dust #Dancing With Dust Chapter 1 #Pining

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sumisuchan · 7 years

Text

Strangers Ch.1, Pink Cloud

(Reposting because Tumblr won’t let me edit the first one.) *NSFW at the end!!!*

Blue Diamond had told her to be careful with her lightning. “You shocked me,” she said, just as their lips separated.

“I don’t know if I can help it.” Yellow dared to touch her hip, fingers bunching up the fabric of her robes as her prints kneaded together. They stood so close to one another, toes keeping them at the edge of another kiss.

Even days later, Blue’s scent stuck to her clothing.

“Well, you had better try.” Their lashes partly locked together, and her plump lips caught the left side of Yellow’s mouth. Blue held that position a while before releasing her, and her voice lowered with the hush of a secret. “I want to invite you to my bath, but I’m worried you’re going to electrocute me.”

Yellow paused. “I won’t,” she said, their gems nearly touching, and her gloved fingers stole a little more fabric.

“Are you shocking me on purpose then, if you control it so well?” Blue connected their lips again and drew out a little more of the other Diamond’s electricity. She had her hands upon Yellow’s shoulders, with her wrists upon her collarbones.

Occupied tongues took the place of a reply, and they separated shortly after that, duties driving them apart. Yellow currently sat in her private room, fingers laced together as she remained straight up within her chair, facing toward her large window and its colorful patch of space.

That day, a pink cloud of debris and light passed by, looking like spilled glitter with a speckling of stars behind it, like the lights of a vanity. The scene shined brightly enough so that Yellow could sit in the dark, but she herself glowed gently, like a faraway star.

Enough time had passed to put her just a few minutes from leaving to visit Blue. “You can come directly to my bath,” she had said, when they were only millimeters apart. “I’ll be waiting for you,” her voice possessed that quality to it, when it became softer than normal. She spoke so that no one else could hear her, even though they had tucked themselves into a corner, and no one else was even around. Blue had put her own hands on Yellow’s narrow hips, which she felt beneath her armor, and like that, she held her steady.

Something itched beneath her gloves, but Yellow did nothing to alleviate it. Nor did she take the single bead of sweat that slid from her temple to her chin. She sat in one place, motionless, until the boundary came between being exactly on time and a few moments late, at which point her Pearl entered the room.

“My Diamond,” she stood right outside the door and saluted, “Your appointment with Blue Diamond is very soon,” and she moved her curious gaze to the empress, still within her chair.

“Thank you, Pearl.” Despite the update, the Diamond remained in her place for several long seconds, keeping her focus upon the cloud and the tip of her index finger between her teeth. Pearl stayed exactly in her place, before Yellow finally turned to her to say, “You’re dismissed,” at which point, she left and the empress stood.

Yellow warped her way to Blue Diamond’s chambers, and appeared alone. No Pearls waited to greet her, and even the machines at certain points in the room remained largely silent, not even daring to hum for her.

Yellow surveyed Blue’s main room, with its intricate carpet lounging in the center of the chamber, as well as all of her tapestries and age-old statues of goddesses no one worshipped any longer. Something inside her paused, when her attention caught upon the pink of an old authority crest, hanging in plain sight upon the wall.

Yet, in the absence of her own breath and in the stillness of the machines, the whispering of falling water beckoned to her, so quietly, from the hallway.

Something outside her consciousness moved her feet, despite the bizarre tingling beneath her leggings and the surge conquering the inside of her stomach. Still, Yellow shuffled onward in clothing that was about to come off, reaching the clean tiles and the water that went from whispering to speaking, beneath the gaze of a clear window and the same cloud visible from her own room.

Blue turned to look at her, stare weighty as ever, while her lips turned up at the edges. The whites of her eyes, however, retained a pinkness to them and her brows kept bent before she finally moved her attention back to the window as one of her ships passed by.

Blue sniffled and cleared her throat. “No one can see us here. You don’t need to worry, Yellow.”

“I assumed as much.” She looked into space and even pinched the loose fabric at the wrist of her left glove. “Would you prefer if I—”

But at the sound of the question, Blue hit her with the full force of her melancholy and smeared mascara. The water around her moved in little waves of complaints and Yellow watched as her throat restarted itself to speak.

“No—” She wiped her eyes despite having wet hands. “I’d still like you to stay.” Blue gulped and continued. “Are you feeling shy?”

“That may be a part of it,” Yellow caught the pink in Blue’s eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” she swallowed and regarded the water. “I thought I might finally be ready to move on, at least in some way. She used to come here all the time, and I truly wanted you to come here too, but…” Blue cut herself off and hid behind a few locks of hair. “This morning, such pain took over me, and so many memories came back, but I didn’t want to let you down. I’ve been trying to pull myself together…”

The cloud in the window dyed the air, as the water kept whispering. Above all of its tiny words, Yellow’s voice echoed around the chamber,“Would you prefer I go?” despite having emerged more quietly than usual.

“No. Don’t. I want you to stay, but I’m not sure I can make love with you.” The diamonds in their eyes finally met up again. Blue shed a few tears without contorting her face. “When I invited you, I thought I was ready, but now that you’re truly here, I don’t know how I feel. Aside from the sadness, I’ve been shaking, a lot like the first time. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Blue, even though I wish you wouldn’t say such stupid things.”

The empress cracked a smile. “Stars, you’re such a bitch. Maybe that’s what I like about you, Yellow. You don’t remind me of her at all.”

The golden goddess raised an eyebrow. “And you call me a bitch?”

“I’m sorry.” Blue turned a few degrees closer to her direction, and rubbed her eyes again. “Why don’t you join me?”

Yellow lingered, until Blue rose from the waters of her bath. She towered with all of her lovely curves, not attempting to hide any part of herself. The guest didn’t look away from her, but her cheeks filled with gold as the steam from the bath seemed to cloud over her normally clear eyes.

A gulp passed along her long neck, as she came to admit, “I’ve never shown another gem my body before.”

“I didn’t suspect you had.” Blue took a few steps closer as Yellow’s throat dried. “Should I help you?”

“I think I can handle it.”

“Alright.” Blue watched Yellow’s shy shimmering in the calm lights before turning away and returning to her spot. She moved her focus to the window and its sparkling pink cloud as the steam rolled in waves around her and Yellow removed her clothing. Within a few seconds, her armor had disappeared in a series of lights, as well as her boots, until the warm air surrounded her bare skin and the golden naked goddess approached the water.

Even as the other Diamond submerged herself to the knees, Blue didn’t turn to face her. Only when they sat side by side did those sad eyes return to Yellow’s face, and her hand slipped atop her guest’s.

Slowly, Blue kissed her cheek, lashes brushing lightly across her skin as they so often did, and there was a point where words almost left her mouth. The weight that surrounded her seemed furtive enough to produce something, but Blue held it inside herself instead, coming to brush a few of her fingertips against Yellow’s slender neck.

The guest shut her lids as the other’s hand slid downward and traced the face of her gem, eventually cupping one of her little breasts.

Finally, Blue spoke, “How is that?”

“It’s fine. I thought you said you weren’t ready.”

“I’m just touching you.” Her middle and index finger teased Yellow’s nipple, squeezing it in between the first knuckles. Blue accomplished this without looking at the other empress’s chest. Rather, she shut her eyes and worked on tasting Yellow’s lips, trailing the nails of her other hand between her shoulder blades and along her back.

“Tell me if it gets to be too much.” Her teeth ghosted along Yellow’s cheek and the golden goddess shuttered. “I don’t want you shocking me.”

“I’ll do my best—” But Blue stole her tongue and sucked upon it, causing her partner to release a gasp that nearly conformed to a sigh. Yellow leaned her head back and furrowed her brows, eventually weaving her fingers inside Blue’s hair.

Their kiss deepened while one of those curious hands moved along Yellow’s body. It found her other breast and upon rolling its nipple between prints, moved downward to the guest’s stomach and eventually came to rest upon her hip.

Their mouths split apart and Blue spoke, “You’re so slender,” and moved her touch to the top of the other’s thigh. Instead of resuming their kiss, she placed their faces side by side and brought their bodies closer, until Blue’s curves and heavy breasts overcame Yellow’s straight lines.

The golden goddess said nothing and opened her legs. Without waiting for her partner to respond, she took Blue’s wrist and moved her palm between her thighs, and with very few seconds having passed, received two fingers between her lips. Yellow pulled her lover’s hair, expelling another voiceless breath and then a grunt.

Blue turned to glance beneath the waves as she moved her digits in and out, stroking her prints across the other Diamond’s G-spot as Yellow squeezed around her and drew their forms even closer. Their foreheads touched, and each time Yellow’s boundaries expanded with a sharp, deep breath, the space between them decreased.

“How does that feel?”

“Don’t stop—” Their gems touched, and Yellow released a moan as those fingers sank in again. “Harder—!”

Blue bit her lover’s long neck and held on, even as she arched her back, moving her hand with more speed and power, causing another cry to burst from Yellow’s lips. They held one another closer, clutching and nearly scratching with deadly nails, until Blue went to add another finger. The moment the third digit pushed inside Yellow, a light burst forth from her gem and her whole body seemed to contract around Blue’s hand. She clenched her teeth and clutched the other Diamond, catching her breath after a grunt and a gasp.

The author of her pleasure didn’t let her guest go. Instead, Yellow relaxed around her and seemed to lose some fragment of her consciousness, but still held on lest she slip into the water and drown.

Blue didn’t speak but left a few slow kisses against Yellow’s cheeks, her neck, and her shoulder, supporting her as the other Diamond gained her composure.

“Blue.”

The cloud and its tint hadn’t gone away, and beneath its glow, Blue Diamond began to quiver. She gasped in a breath and held it, as the scent of saltwater came not from the bath, but from her.

Yellow managed to hold her more tightly. “We got carried away.”

“No,” with one hand, she wiped her tears. “It’s not your fault.”

The guest didn’t say anything to that, but touched her lover’s cheeks with a few kisses. The hand that wove itself into the strands of her hair now caressed the same area and their mouths shortly fell into full contact.

Blue had to stop every few seconds to breathe, but for a few minutes, they made out with swollen tongues and supported one another from sinking deeper into the water.

Though, when they stopped, they separated for good and embraced one another beneath the soft light of space. Eventually, Yellow left Blue with a kiss upon the cheek and a lingering glance at the door, once she had phased off her water and her clothing back on. Blue didn’t turn to her as she walked away, and ended up remaining in the same place within the pink air for another hour. Even then, her Pearl had come to fetch her with a message, and she had no choice but to get out.

#bellowdiamondweek

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greeneyedsnake · 7 years

Text

At the Quidditch World Cup with the Malfoys

As a reward and a thank-you to everyone who has been so patiently waiting for the fourth part of the Green-Eyed Snake series, here is a brief excerpt from an early scene in the book. (Note that this is a rough draft version and may be edited or altered prior to being officially posted as part of the story!)

They trudged up the sunny field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. One had two big braziers with color-changing fire on either side of a solid wooden door; another had window boxes filled with flowers that chimed like bells in the breeze. The wizards and witches they passed were in the same boat as the tents: most had obviously made an effort to dress like Muggles but had failed spectacularly. One old man wore a woman’s lacy nightgown and a traffic cone on his head; another had put trousers on under his kilt. One witch for some reason had wrapped toilet paper all over herself like a mummy and another was wearing perfectly ordinary Muggle jeans and a band t-shirt but had three live canaries perched on her pointy hat.

The Malfoys did not seem to have made any efforts to pass as Muggles at all, Harry realized, looking sideways at the pale family. He wondered why none of the Ministry wizards had scolded them but a look around told him that they all had bigger problems to worry about. The Malfoys might be wearing robes, but at least they weren’t actually shooting off sparks or riding on broomsticks. Compared to some of the wizards he saw, they were downright unobtrusive.

There were a few empty spots scattered throughout the tents for those who had yet to arrive. They stopped outside a large patch of grass midway across the field with a small sign hammered into the ground that read MALFOI. They stared at it for a moment, Harry wondering if Mr. Malfoy had forgotten they would need a tent like he had with the Muggle money. None of the slim bags they were carrying looked like they held more than a single change of clothes.

“It’s going to be a bit cramped, isn’t it?” Mrs. Malfoy observed dubiously.

Mr. Malfoy shrugged. “At least we’ll have tolerable neighbors. I made sure of it.” He grinned and opened up a small green bag. “Stand back, boys,” he warned, and drew his wand. “Erecto,” he said, and out of the bag spilled an impossible amount of cloth and poles which swirled and clattered around in a chaotic, self-contained whirlwind of stripes and silk that resolved themselves, after only a moment, into a fully constructed tent.

At least, it was something like a tent. It looked more like a miniature palace made of striped silk. Mr. Malfoy waved his wand again and a number of peacocks tumbled out of the tent, their long leashes wrapping themselves to hoops along the entrance. The peacocks fluffed their feathers back into place and started strutting around, exploring the area with every appearance of calm contentment, as though they were used to being packed-up inside a magical tent and pulled out again.

Harry’s jaw dropped open.

“There we are,” said Mr. Malfoy. “Home sweet home—or at least, the next best thing for the moment.”

“Come on, Harry,” Draco said, eagerly leading the way inside, “I’ll show you our room.”

“Our room?” Harry repeated. He followed Draco inside and his jaw dropped again. Instead of walking into a tent—even a sprawling, elaborate, impossible tent—he felt like he had entered an actual palace. The walls seemed to be made of silk rather than wood or stone, but there were walls, and doors, and different rooms. There was even a delicate ironwork staircase leading to a second floor. There was a small chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. The tent, big as it was, had not looked even halfway large enough to contain all of this from the outside.

“Come on,” Draco repeated, and Harry followed him up the staircase, trunk bobbing obediently at his ankles. His head was spinning. Harry had never been camping in his life; the Dursleys had never taken him on any kind of holiday, preferring to leave him with Mrs. Figg, an old neighbor. However, he was certain that Muggle camping was nothing like this.

“What do you think?” Draco asked, spreading his arms wide. The upper floor of the palatial tent was more of a loft than a proper second floor, a long low-ceilinged sprawling room of silk, with two cushy-looking beds piled high with pillows and feathery-looking comforters. There was a washstand and dressing table with a mirror in one corner and a short bookcase in the other. It looked like more weight than the thin wooden floor ought to be able to hold, especially given that Harry hadn’t seen any proper supports for the floor on his way up the stairs. He hesitated on the top of the steps, unsure about trusting his weight to such a precarious perch.

“It’s not as big as the other rooms,” Draco apologized, “but I like it because you can peek out through the flap and see what’s going on outside. See?” He bounced over to the silk wall, apparently not at all worried about the flimsiness of the floor, and lifted a patch of silk that let unfiltered sunlight stream in. Harry swallowed and stepped forward, wincing as he moved off the solid metal stairs, but the floor underfoot didn’t so much as tremble at his steps. Harry relaxed a little and peeked out through the flap that Draco held open for him.

He could see the rows of tents stretching away across the cluttered field; he seemed to be looking out from beneath the crenellated border of silk between the wall of the tent and its sloping roof. It gave him a weird feeling of vertigo when he thought about space. He didn’t feel like he was any higher up than it looked like the tent reached from the outside, but he knew he had climbed higher than that on the stairs to get here. Harry swallowed hard and backed away from the window. “Neat,” he said weakly.

“I thought you’d like it,” Draco said, and dropped the small bag he had been carrying on one of the beds. “Leave your stuff—let’s go look around!” He bounded back down the stairs. Harry took a deep breath to steady himself, then followed.

“Father! Mother!” Draco called pompously, “Harry and I are going to go look around!”

His parents came bustling out of one of the side rooms, both of them now lacking their traveling cloaks. Mrs. Malfoy had a hairbrush in her hand and a frown on her face. “What?” she cried, in a voice that sounded very much like an objection, but Mr. Malfoy chuckled and said, “Oh let them go, Cissy, they’ll be fine. There’s Ministry wizards running all over the place, and plenty of our friends in attendance too. Nothing’s going to hurt them if they do a bit of exploring.” His voice suddenly sharpened. “You both have your wands?” he asked.

“Of course,” scoffed Draco, looking as though it was the stupidest question he had ever been asked.

“Er,” said Harry. His was still packed in his trunk from his time at the Dursleys. He felt his face go hot. “I’ll just—run and get mine.” He took the steps two at a time on the way up and jumped the last three on the way back down. By the time he ran back over to the Malfoys, Narcissa had been convinced to let them go out.

“Oh very well,” she was saying, “but be careful, Draco. Don’t go too far away. And don’t talk to anyone—you know, unpleasant.” She wrung her hands, hairbrush and all.

“We’ll be fine, mother,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Well all right then,” Mrs. Malfoy sniffed. “But I want you back here in an hour—”

“Mother!”

“Fine, an hour and a half. We’ll have dinner together.”

She spoke with a finality that could not be argued. “All right,” Draco said, and darted for the door. He had to endure a hug and a kiss from his mother and a clap on the back from his father before they would let him go. Harry forced a smile and ignored a sudden funny, cold feeling in his stomach, and followed.

Once outside he immediately forgot his discomfort. There were too many strange things and people to look at. One group of wizards sat around a fire that gave off bright purple sparks, passing around a newspaper that had them all very excited and talking in something that sounded a lot like German. All three of them had neat beards and were wearing sequined evening dresses. A tent on the other side of the path kept changing colors from red to green to blue to pink and back again. Two harried-looking wizards stood outside it, trying to convince their very small daughter to land her broomstick and give them back daddy’s wand so they could fix it. A group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES’ INSTITUTE. Further down the row two African witches in bright skirts and headscarves were arguing in cheerful French with a portly white woman wearing a yellow shower cap and a raincoat. Someone somewhere was yelling at someone else in Italian and when they crossed to another row he and Draco were almost mowed-down by a stray firework tumbling along like a purple tumbleweed. Harry caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and though he couldn’t understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

Upfield they stumbled into what Harry realized belatedly must be the Bulgarian section: a large white, green, and red flag was fluttering in the breeze overhead and each and every tent had the same poster attached to it: a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

“He seems popular,” Harry observed.

Draco laughed. “Of course!” he exclaimed.

“Who is it?” Harry asked, feeling stupid.

“Viktor Krum of course,” Draco said. “Bulgaria’s Seeker. Haven’t you heard of him?”

Harry gave a helpless shrug. “Not all of us got to spend all summer listening to Quidditch matches on the wireless and reading Which Broomstick and Quidditch Quarterly,” he pointed-out bitterly.

“Well he’s brilliant,” Draco said, not sounding at all abashed. “One of the best Seekers of all time. He’s the strongest part of Bulgaria’s lineup—as all their fans know,” he added, waving a hand at the posters. “He’s really young, too. Still in school, if you can believe it, but of course Bulgaria knew they didn’t have a chance of winning the World Cup without him so they recruited him straight from Durmstrang.”

“Durmstrang?” Harry repeated. The word sounded familiar.

“It’s another wizarding school,” Draco said.

Harry gaped but didn’t voice the amazement he felt at hearing about the existence of other Wizarding schools. He supposed, now that he saw representatives of so many nationalities in the campsite, that he had been stupid never to realize that Hogwarts couldn’t be the only one.

Fortunately Draco was still talking and didn’t notice the shock on Harry’s face: “Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, in fact,” he drawled. “He knows the headmaster, you see. A much better person than mental old Dumbledore. They’ve got stricter standards of admittance, too. But mother didn’t like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do….”

“That might have come in handy a few times,” Harry said mildly, thinking about Peter Pettigrew.

Draco nodded. “Right? I can’t see the Weasleys being any good at it anyway, so it would definitely give us a leg-up on those brutes. Not to mention all the Mu—other Gryffindors. They tend to turn their noses up at sensible, practical magic like that. Say they’re too good for it,” he sneered, “but of course the moment they end up between a rock and a hard place they’ll whip-out whatever spell they need to get out of it, all without ever letting their self-righteous hypocrisy take so much as a dent.”

He lowered his voice and added in a breathless whisper, “That’s where Gellert Grindewald went to school, you know. Durmstrang. Although they expelled him before he could graduate, so some people say he shouldn’t be counted as a proper alumni—but still.” Draco’s eyes glittered. “Pretty creepy, no? Personally I wouldn’t want to be in Ireland’s shoes; a lot of things can happen on a Quidditch pitch beyond just Bludgers….”

“Mmm,” said Harry, noncommittally. He was wracking his brain trying to think if he had ever heard the name Gellert Grindewald before. He missed having Crabbe and Goyle around; one of them could usually be counted on to ask at least half the stupid questions Harry wanted to, saving him the embarrassment.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said, “Gellert Grindewald? You know, only the most fearsome Dark Wizard to ever walk the earth until the Dark Lord himself claimed the title?”

“Oh right,” said Harry, “that Gellert Grindewald. Of course.”

Draco snorted and led the way between the Bulgarian tents. By the time they reached the end of the section Harry was starting to get properly creeped-out by all the posters of Viktor Krum scowling at him. He was relieved to return to the regular mish-mash of magical tents whose idiosyncrasies varied between well-intentioned mistakes and deliberate, ridiculous violations of the Statute. Harry liked the latter more; since he wasn’t a Muggle who would be frightened or confused by the sight of a tent with a turret or a birdbath, he enjoyed looking at the elaborate structures that his fellow witches and wizards had erected to show off their magical prowess.

He did feel a little unsettled when everything went green.

They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Two of those faces were familiar: Seamus Finnigan, whose thick Irish accent should have made his presence here no surprise to Harry, and Dean Thomas, Finnigan’s best friend. They were both in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts in the same year as Harry and Draco and, as was traditional for Slytherins and Gryffindors, they did not get on well together.

Since Finnigan and Thomas hadn’t seen them yet, Harry pointed at something in the distance and said loudly, “What’s that?” He started walking faster, forcing Draco to run after him. Harry wasn’t scared of the Gryffindor boys of course, but Draco’s mother had told them to be careful and they didn’t have Crabbe and Goyle with them right now. Harry didn’t want to go back to the Malfoys’ tent with a Draco who had a bloody nose or a black eye; he had a feeling that Mrs. Malfoy’s lectures would be even scarier than those of his head of house, Professor Snape, if Draco got hurt and she found out about it.

Harry didn’t slow down until they had left the forest of shamrocks far behind.

“What’s what?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“I don’t know,” said Harry, “it left. Sorry.”

Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t complain; there were so many other fascinating things to see that skipping half of the Irish supporters’ section—which had all seemed to be more of the same, anyway—was no great loss. They easily whiled-away their allotted free time staring every which way. Here and there they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Cassius Warrington, who had joined the Slytherin Quidditch team last year, pulled them over to show-off to his parents that he really did know Harry Potter. Next they met the Greengrass sisters outside a neat little tent that would have looked quite normal if not for the flower-wrapped trellis and balcony protruding from the side. Daphne was a fourth year in Slytherin like them and she introduced them to her parents with studied diffidence but Astoria, who was starting her second year at Hogwarts, went bright pink and didn’t say a word. Then they were greeted by Blaise Zabini, who pointedly ignored Harry the whole time he talked to Draco, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who tripped over a stray tent stake when he tried to wave back. More to stop Draco from smirking than anything, Harry horridly pointed out a small group of teenagers whom he had never seen before.

“Who d’you reckon they are?” he said. Trying to sound like somebody who wasn’t ignorant of most of the magical world he added casually, “Students from Durmstrang maybe?”

Draco looked over at them. “No,” he said, “they’re speaking Japanese, I think. Probably from Mahoutokoro.”

That made Harry feel even stupider. “Right,” he said, and resolved to keep his mouth shut about other wizarding schools from then on.

When the light started to dim they returned to the Malfoys’ tent. There was an elaborate dinner waiting for them there: plates and plates of food, from braised quail with blackberries to hasselback potatoes with gouda to gooey ambrosia salad with mangos and coconut. Harry stared. He had been expecting sausages roasted over a campfire, not a dinner table set with more forks than he knew what to do with and dishes so fancy he didn’t recognize half their names. Mr. Malfoy poured both he and Draco each a glass of nutmeg sangria and Mrs. Malfoy kept urging both of them (but mostly Draco) to have another helping of everything. It was almost as good as a meal at Hogwarts; there wasn’t as broad of a selection—thankfully, because there were only four of them to eat it all—and having two concerned adults pay attention to what Harry was eating and which fork he was using to eat it with was more scrutiny than Harry was used to, but part of him liked it. It was almost like being part of a family, albeit one that cared a lot more about salad forks than any family Harry had ever heard of.

The strangest part of the meal was who, or rather what, was serving them: the Malfoys had brought along a house-elf. (Harry wondered if it had been packed-up inside the tent like the peacocks, shuddered, and tried not to think about that again.) At first that had made Harry nervous, because the last time he had encountered a house-elf it had not gone well for him. In his second year at Hogwarts, a weird little elf named Dobby had been responsible for one of the most difficult, and most painful, Quidditch matches that Harry had ever flown; he would never forget the strange creature and had had no desire to meet any others of his species.

This house-elf was smaller than Dobby and hardly spoke except to say, “yes mistress,” or “no master,” or “right away young master,” as it scurried around clearing plates and replacing dishes. The Malfoys didn’t seem to pay it any attention except when they wanted it to do something; Harry tried to ignore it like they did, but it was hard when he kept seeing it move out of the corner of his eye. It made him feel twitchy and he was glad when the delicious meal was finally over; he had a crick in his neck from turning to watch the elf. It melted away to some other part of the tent as soon as they finished eating, along with all the half-eaten dishes and dirty silverware.

By the time night fell Harry was feeling pleasantly full and sleepy, despite his sore neck, and he happily followed the Malfoys outside. There was a campfire in an elaborate stone pit that had suddenly materialized in front of the tent just out of reach of the now-dozing peacocks. Harry lounged in a plush armchair near the fire while the Malfoys told stories about people he didn’t know. He firmly decided that anyone who went camping without magic was a fool. He was almost sorry Dudley wasn’t here, just so he could be jealous of Harry for once.

He barely remembered climbing the ironwork staircase to their loft bedroom and snuggling down into the big, squishy bed. He was asleep almost before he closed his eyes.

#slytherin harry #slytherin!harry #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #ges4 #spoilers #ges4 spoilers #extras

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harmonal · 5 years

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Serendipity

Introduction [Part One]

Summary: Jia had always been a quiet person and now she finally found someone to push her beyond that and finally feel free the way he was meant to.

Word count: 1.7k Genre: Fluff, Angst. Possible future trigger warnings to come. Maybe mentions of smut.

A/N: I am not expecting much from this. After many years away from fanfic writing I’ve finally had the guts to write again, this is only a snipbit of a story whirling through my mind, it’ll probably have a lot of mistakes and don’t be shocked if it’s edited after posting. Thank you in advance for your honesty, advice and .. whatever else you to do! Please be nice to me.

Reuploaded onto new account!

I never imagined I would find myself living in a big city. I enjoyed the feel of grass between my toes and the crunch of freshly fallen leaves during the autumn. Cities were loud, smelly and well, just full of people. My body ached for the mountains and country side but I had to admit Busan had its charms; its port, the market and the beach, it was never quiet unless you knew where to look that is.

This is how I found myself day dreaming dreaming within walking distance of Haedong Yonggungsa, a Buddhist temple over looking the coast. I couldn’t help but smile as I walked towards it before settling on a spot by the rocks, the artistry and historic building brought to life. It was like I walking into the past. I reached forward over crossed legs and a smile broke on my face as I strung my fingers along the red railings guiding along the sea edge towards the temple. I couldn’t help myself, the smile broke into a grin and I allowed myself to lean back into the rock and close my eyes for a moment. Just the sound of the waves crashing and slow exhales of my own breath. it was peaceful and it fillled me with joy yet that was soon disturbed by a dusting of snowflakes on my face. I brought my scarf further up towards my eyes in a bid to warm up.

It never normally got this cold in Busan but as autumn left us behind , the night drew in and the temperature dropped. It was only inevitable that it would snow. I watched as it the slowly began to settle on the roof and grounds, winter had come early this year despite everyone’s doubts. Newspapers would declare the early on set of cold weather but it was met with anguish and distrust. I loved the cold, the snow , the scarfs, hats and big warm jackets. I found myself craving this time of year again. No tourists within the summer city of Korea, I always rolled my eyes when you head a tourist squeak that as they strolled along the beaches in the summer, thank fully it was only one part of the year.

“It’s very quiet”, Soojin announced, my best friend brought me out of my day dream. I sat up into my elbows and stared at her scrunching my nose . Her expression one of boredom and impatience, we were complete opposites. She enjoyed the crowds, small spaces and dancing hence why i suggested we do something other than our usual night club escapades on the weekend. Wasn’t like we could go before work anyways.

I would always laugh at Soojin this time of year. She would come into work crying of yet another weather warning in the system, she swore she would freeze every year. But with the 70 layers I highly doubt it, just giggling at her would cause her to melt and calm down from her frenzied rant.

“It’s peaceful”, I sighed before sitting upright with her. “I like it here”. I was content.

“I knew I never should have brought you here,” shaking her head with laughter as she admiring the sky as it began to darken. “Cmon lets go before I lose my toes! Please? “ She squeaked and quickly got to her feet, brushing the snow from her legs and head. I nodded quickly following as she skipped down the path back towards the main link back to the city.

I had never thought myself as a lucky person, I had always worked hard, be it within school or at work. But finding Soojin was luck, sheer dumb luck. Her bright blonde hair and blue contrasted against everyone else in the class, it was biology in our final year and the topic of the day was genetics. A fun game, or so the teacher thought was to categorise the class and with being the only two students with blue eyes we ended up meeting.

“I never even noticed you hiding at the back”, she exclaimed as soon as she sat in the old wooden school chair. I shifted in my seat with the unfamiliar feel of someone next to me. “Do you speak?” She stated quickly without even given me the chance to reply.

“It’s Jia”, I whispered back.

She had been the popular one growing up, bubbly, outspoken and well liked. Her uncharacteristic looks for a Korean school got her the attention she loved, boys would fall at her feet as she giggled and walked down the halls. Now she does the same in the restraurant, the simple establishment we now call a career. It pays the bill okay.

Her hair was always perfect.

Her lips a perfect shade of rosey pink.

No flushed skin.

Eyelashes set perfectly to frame her delicate face.

Clothes fitting her body, not too tight but enough to show her figure.

Why couldn’t I look like her, it had always plagued me and at times I felt jealous of my best friend, I preferred the silence but sometimes a small amount of attention is what I craved in my loneliest moments.

“Why are you staring at me like that weirdo,” she flicked my forehead and I felt my senses return as I felt the shift when the bus came to a halt. “We’re almost there anyways, come on”.

“I need to stop doing that.” An inner thought that has breeched my lips, my eyes thrown open wider as I realised my mistake. Soojin snapped her head back in my direction.

“Huh?” Her girlish charm coming through, some would say call her innocent when she looked like that.

“Oh are we? I was a million miles away”, I felt the temperature in my cheeks as I blushed, a bad habit that I felt cursed with.

“I knew you were”, she winked in response before gesturing to stand from our seats. I reluctantly followed, my legs feeling tired before the day had really began.

…

“I thought the quick trip to the temple may have cheered you up Jia. It would normally, even with that cold stuff out there you seem less happy than normal.” She began lecturing as we walked behind the counter.

“I enjoyed our small impromptu visit, honest I did,” I tried to mask the lie, the pushed words through my lips . She always tried to make me smile, the reassuring words, the gentle hand as she kept me calm through everything. Soojin would always have the place of my best friend, she was always there for me no matter.

I couldn’t help running away with my own thoughts again as I watched her do her routine, she now ran her parents restaurant and stepped up as head chef in the kitchen whilst I ran front of house. We were a team, a great team if I was honest. The restraurant ran as an evening only service catering to wealthier clients here in the centre of Busan. Clients would travel by sea, air and land just to eat here.

The dinner service started promptly at 6pm, the restaurant filled up quickly and before I knew it all clients had taken their seats, wine glass in all their hands without a second thought.

“JiaAAAAA,” Soojin’s voice boomed through the window , I darted from the bar and swung the kitchen in door as quick as I could.

“Yes,” I sung at her.

“I’ve heard we have some special guests tonight in the restaurant,” she spurted in between mixing a soup. Her once white overalls scattered with a mix of ingredients she had been cooking with, even some on her cheek.

“And, we have special guests all the time.” I sighed as I wiped her cheek with a napkin I found on the side. “Doesn’t make any difference to our night! We still give them the same service .” I quickly added before she attempted to interrupt .

“But Jia!..”

“No listen to me, we’ll be fine whoever they are!”

“But!!”

I laughed at her urgency, “it’ll be fine. Bye Soo.” I waved at her and watched at her as I launched back through the door.

…

“Okay, you won’t believe this.” Her eyes were as wide as her small face, the blue blazing and lips tight as she waited for my response.

“What?” I laughed. I was tired, it has been a long night so far and the crazy hasn’t stopped . We were completely booked by 8pm and now it was almost closing time . There were a few guests cleaning off their plates and enjoying the evening before we closed. I felt like I could sleep for an eternity after the shift ended .

“I found a guy in the bathroom! Like hiding in the stalls,” she animatedly described as she began to wave her hands about in the air. “Like, I didn’t mean to walk in on him. But. Umm, the stall door was open and I just walked in. He was just sitting there, like just sat there. Bless him, I didn’t know what to say,” she began to stammer. “You’ve gotta go see if you can get him out of there, yknow you’re better at these things.” Her hands struggling to stay still.

I exhaled loudly as I watched her expression turn to caution and a worried hand run up her face. Why was a guy in the ladies bathroom.

“Fine I’ll go. Table 4 hasn’t paid their cheque yet so keep an eye for me.” I patted Soojin on the shoulder as brushed past her.

The bathrooms were located along a corridor off the side of the bar, it has always reminded me of hallways from the movie “The Shining”, especially with the red carpets. Soojin had always seen red as a lucky colour, so it stayed as red even when Soo took over.

I passed the first door and swung open the second. The bathroom was empty apart from one closed stall, the door wasn’t locked but you could make out a person sat on the floor pushing it shut. I cleaned my throat and walked to it.

“Hello?” I knocked against the white panel quietly in an attempt not to startle him. The only response was a small sniffle and ruffle of tissue . “Look, I’m the manager here. Can you please open up.” I heard quick movement and footsteps, the door slowly opened and I was stood face to face with him. Hair parted and pushed back, small eyes sat in a perfectly framed face and I recognised him. Those features, the ones I had seen time and time again in magazines, posters and tv. The one Soojin has obsessed about as she attempted to dance in her living room. It was him, It was Park Jimin.

#bts #bangtan #park jimin #park jimin x oc #parkjimin #park jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #serendipity #please be nice to me fellow army

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ghosthunthq · 7 years

Photo

For: @books-tea-ghosts

By: @snavej

A massive thank you to @teaaddictedghosthunter for editing!

Day 2: Tuesday

The next morning, Oliver was rudely awoken by something bouncing on his bed.

“Up! Up! Up!”

“Maggie what are you doing?”

“Up!”

Oliver sighed.

“Go and bother Gene.”

“Gene up!”

Oliver opened a single eye and glared down at the toddler’s delighted face.

“Look!”

Maggie spread her arms out and Oliver took in the fact that her head and arms were sticking out of a mass of pink fabric that he vaguely recognised.

“Is that one of Mai’s dresses?”

“Pretty!”

“Where did you find that?”

“Cubba.”

“Cupboard? You mean the wardrobe?”

“Pretty!”

Oliver groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position. Maggie had one of her arms out of the neck hole of the dress, but had otherwise done quite well at clothing herself. Begrudgingly impressed, Oliver reached forwards and helped Maggie straighten the dress out. Once she was suitably covered, Maggie tried to climb onto the bed, only to be impeded with the length of the skirt.

Oliver sighed and pulled Maggie up.

“What do you want?”

But Maggie ignored him as she bounced on the bed, clearly in a world of her own. Oliver rolled his eyes and got up. He made to leave the room before realising that leaving a toddler alone sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

He scooped Maggie up under one arm and carried her down to the kitchen. She giggled and held her arms out as if pretending to be an aeroplane.

“Why is she wearing one of Mai’s dresses?” Gene asked.

“Because she put one on,” Oliver replied. “I had nothing to do with it.”

Oliver placed Maggie on the floor and made himself a cup of tea.

“Have you looked in Mai’s room?” Gene asked.

“No, why would I have?”

“Well if she’s gone through Mai’s wardrobe…”

“She can clear it up.”

“Noll, she has the attention span of a gnat,” he said with some incredulity.

Oliver shrugged and Gene sighed.

“Maggie,” Gene began with a kind smile, “Do you want some breakfast?”

“No.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

Gene looked pointedly at Oliver, who shrugged.

“But you need to eat something,” Gene went on, not expecting any help from his brother.

“No.”

“Well what do you want to do then?” he asked, hands on hips.

“Play!”

“Well that narrows it down,” Noll said, “Take her to the park, that will tire her out.”

“No!”

Maggie slid across the floor and latched herself onto Oliver’s leg.

Oliver scowled at Gene, his jaw set.

“What do you want?” Oliver asked Maggie.

“Park!”

Oliver’s scowl deepened.

“Well that’s set, we’re all going to the park,” Gene said, beaming at Oliver..

Oliver finished his tea and made to stand up and stalk away but the presence of a small child attached to his leg impeded his progress.

Twenty minutes later, the trio began the walk to the park. It was a slow process. Oliver strode out, walking at his normal pace. Maggie, on the other hand, tottered along nowhere near as fast. Gene danced between his brother and their charge, moaning at Oliver to slow down while encouraging Maggie to keep going.

In the end, Gene picked her up and carried Maggie the rest of the way so as to not test Oliver’s limited patience.

They released the toddler in the play park area and took a seat on a nearby bench. Gene kept a keen eye on Maggie, while Oliver pulled a book out of his pocket and began reading, unbothered by whatever the toddler was doing.

“I think we’re doing okay, you know?” Gene said after a few minutes silence.

“You think?”

“Well, she’s only cried a few times and—”

“So why is she eating a slug right now?”

“Oh shi—”

Gene sprinted from his seat to remove the slug from Maggie’s mouth. Oliver smirked and returned to his book. Slugs were not poisonous after all. Well… Most of them weren’t.

Gene carried Maggie back over to Noll and sat down with her on his lap so he could wipe her mouth and hands clean with a tissue.

“We’re not going to tell Madoka or Lin about this,” Gene muttered.

“You want me to lie to them about how you neglected their daughter?”

“How we neglected their daughter.”

“They don’t expect anything of me in regards to their daughter’s wellbeing. You’re a qualified doctor, they expect better of you.”

“Uh! Foo!”

Both twins looked to Maggie.

“She’s hungry,” Noll concluded. “We should go home.”

“We’ve been here ten minutes.”

“But she’s hungry.”

“You just want to return home,” Gene accused.

“How else do you propose we find her food?”

Gene scowled and they began the walk home.

X~X~X

Their afternoon passed by in relative peace and quiet. Gene provided Maggie with some colouring pencils and paper. He then escaped to the supermarket to stock up on food suitable for a toddler.

This left Oliver alone with Maggie. He had been content to continue his book, as Maggie appeared happy to colour in pieces of paper and mumbling to herself.

Only when he looked up an hour later did he realise she was no longer colouring in on pieces of blank paper.

“What is that?” he demanded.

“Book!”

“That’s my textbook.”

“Book!”

Maggie remained oblivious to Oliver’s frustration. He scowled and snatched the book from her to examine the damage. Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes and a wail escaped her mouth.

“You have ruined this book,” Oliver accused.

The wailing continued.

“Crying is not going to fix it,” he muttered.

Oliver hooked the book under his armpit and made to move all the other books in the room to somewhere that Maggie could not reach, all while she continued to cry on the floor.

“Stop it. I am the one with the ruined book, not you.”

This reasoning did not sit well with Maggie. Oliver sighed and gave the book back to Maggie. It was already ruined, she may as well keep it.

Maggie’s tears dried up in an instance. She opened the book and flicked through the pages with a large degree of discoordination.

“Noh!”

Oliver looked down as Maggie pointed at her previous scribbles. He studied the mass of pink and black and blue.

“Noh!” she repeated.

Oliver’s mouth opened to speak. Then he closed it again and swallowed.

“That’s me?” he asked in a tone of forced interest.

“Yes!”

The drawing could not be described as a true likeness.

“It’s…” The mental image of Luella scolding him for being tactless caused Oliver to reconsider his original choice of words. “Lovely. Very good.”

Maggie beamed. She fumbled to her feet and latched onto Oliver’s leg, giggling. Against his better judgement, a smile formed on Oliver face. He pulled his phone out and took a picture of Maggie’s drawing to send to Mai, knowing she would appreciate it.

“Why don’t you draw Gene?” Oliver suggested.

Maggie tottered back to the ruined textbook and turned a few pages. She picked up her crayons and set to work. Oliver returned to his chair, satisfied that the rest of his book collection was safe.

Gene returned a little while later.

“How are we all?”

“Gene!” Maggie shouted, pointing at the page in front of her.

“She has been drawing,” Oliver commented.

“Isn’t that one of your textbooks?”

“Yes, I sacrificed it to the greater good of keeping the child quiet,” Oliver muttered. “Admire her drawing.”

Gene made a point of bending down and studying the picture of him. Not that Oliver was biased, but the drawing of himself was definitely better than the one of Gene.

“Gene!” Maggie repeated.

She flicked through the pages until she found the picture of Oliver.

“Noh!”

“Wow, that’s really good,” Gene said. “You’ve really brought out the colour in his eyes.”

Oliver rolled his eyes behind Gene’s back.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Risotto, I got some spinach because it was reduced and we’ve got some other veg that needs using up,” Gene replied. “Plus it’s all little bits so she’ll be able to eat it.”

Oliver nodded, approving of his twin’s thought process.

“Do you want me to cook?” Oliver asked.

“If you want.”

Oliver stood up and started towards the kitchen, leaving Gene to watch over Maggie.

Halfway through the cooking process, Oliver received a reply from Mai.

Mai: I did not know you were such a skilled artist!

Oliver: -.-

Mai: What’s it supposed to be?

Oliver: Maggie drew me.

Mai: That’s really cute!

Returning to cooking with a slight smile, Oliver realised how much he preferred Maggie being a toddler to when she had been a baby. When Maggie was first born, he had been forced into holding the wrapped up bundle and had received no considerable pleasure from the action. Gene had loved every minute of it, cooing and making faces, which had only resulted in the baby crying.

But Oliver supposed that as a toddler, Maggie was somewhat coherent. She was learning more and more every day and improving. Oliver wondered if his limited tolerance of her would improve as she aged further. Perhaps when she reached adulthood…

“…help Noll in the kitchen,” Gene said from behind him. The soft padding of feet told him that Gene and Maggie were walking into the kitchen.

“Noh!”

“Yes Maggie?”

“Coo!”

“Yes, I am cooking. Well observed.”

Gene picked Maggie up and sat her on the work surface next to where Noll stood.

“Do you want to help?” Oliver asked Maggie.

“Yes!”

“Okay, I need you to hold this carrot for me.”

Oliver handed Maggie a small carrot which she grasped with both hands. He continued to cut vegetables and add them to the pan, every now and then checking on Maggie and her carrot.

“Can I have the carrot now?” Oliver asked, holding his hand out.

Maggie frowned, but allowed him take it from her. He chopped of the end of the carrot and passed it back to her, then cut off another small piece and ate it. Maggie giggled and put her bit in her mouth. Her small teeth gnawed down on the carrot.

“Don’t tell Gene,” Oliver whispered, causing Maggie to giggle more.

“Don’t tell Gene what?” Gene asked from the table.

“Nothing!”

Gene narrowed his eyes at the pair of them.

“Uh!” Maggie opened her mouth. “Uh!”

“What do you want?” Oliver asked.

“‘Rot!”

“Carrot?”

“Yes!”

Oliver smirked and cut off another small bit for her to chew on.

“Hey! Why don’t I get any?” Gene whined.

“Get any what?”

“Gene ‘rot!”

“You think Gene wants a carrot?” Oliver asked.

“Yes! Want ‘rot!”

“You want a carrot?”

“No!” Maggie laughed at Oliver’s apparent mistake. “Gene!”

“Gene?”

“Yes!”

“Gene wants a carrot?” Oliver repeated.

“Gene want ‘rot!”

Oliver smiled.

“Okay,” he said, picking Maggie up and depositing her on the floor. He handed her a piece of carrot. “Take this to Gene.”

Maggie did as asked.

“Thank you,” Gene said.

“Very good, Maggie,” Oliver said. “What do you want to do after we’ve eaten?”

“Foo!”

“Yes, we’re having food now. What about after food?”

“Foo!”

Oliver gave up.

“I found some of the Disney films on Netflix,” Gene suggested. “We could watch that?”

“We?”

“Fine, I’ll watch them with Maggie and you can be an antisocial git.”

“Git!” Maggie repeated.

“No, don’t say that,” Gene said hastily.

“Git!” Maggie said again.

“You taught her to swear,” Oliver accused.

“I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t like I said shit or anything!”

“Shit!” Maggie said.

Oliver smirked and turned back to the risotto, stirring it as he did so.

“No, that’s a bad word. Don’t say that!”

“Shit!” Maggie said again, evidently amused by the look of frustration on Gene’s face.

“Oh jeesh… Madoka is going to kill me.”

“No she won’t,” Oliver countered. “Madoka will find this hilarious. Lin will kill you.”

“I’m doomed.”

“Shit!” Maggie said again.

“You know Lin knows at least two martial arts,” he mentioned, his smirk widening.

“He wouldn’t kill me,” Gene said, trying to convince himself.

“Madoka would help him hide the body.”

“You’d protect me though, right?”

“And risk them mistaking me for you? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll hold Maggie in front of me!”

“Maggie wouldn’t comply.”

“She would!” Gene insisted. “I’ll prove it. Maggie, come here!”

“Really?” Oliver rolled his eyes before saying in a deadpan voice, “Maggie, come to me.”

Maggie looked from Gene to Oliver and then back to Gene. Both twins beckoned her. She laughed, happy with all the attention and then ran into Oliver’s legs. He picked her up in one swoop and sat her on his hip.

“You were saying?” Oliver prompted with a satisfied smirk.

Gene scowled.

“You would be upset if I died.”

“I’d get over it. I think you’re just bitter that Maggie likes me more than you. Don’t you, Maggie?”

“Yes!”

“And what do you think about Gene?”

Maggie frowned. Oliver pointed to Gene.

“Shit!”

Oliver chuckled.

“You should stop encouraging her,” Gene muttered.

Oliver put Maggie down.

“Lay the table, I’ll plate up.”

Gene scowled, but complied with his brother’s suggestion. Every now and then, he tried to beckon Maggie closer to him. But with every attempt, she clung tighter and tighter to Oliver’s trouser leg.

#GHW2017 #Ghost Hunt #GHHQ #snavej #books-tea-ghosts #submission

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reproducing 1912 fashions remember titanic sense

Reproducing 1912 Fashions – Remember Titanic!

This April, we will mark the 100th anniversary of the sinking of Titanic. It hasn’t been fashionable in recent years to laud the heroes of that fatal night, but I am glad to see there are many memorial events planned for this year (the Titanic 100 in Branson, Missouri, promises to be a spectacular event, and there are even cruises that will follow Titanic‘s original route and stop at the site of the sinking). I’m especially delighted to see that attendees plan to dress in historical fashions to commemorate both those who died and those who survived the terrible tragedy of April 14, 1912.https://www.pinterest.com/powerpoint_templates/newspaper-template-powerpoint/

I’ve drawn from my personal collection of catalogs and magazines to pull together images to inspire you as you reproduce Titanic-era fashions for your family. A huge thank-you goes out to long-time customer Carol K., who sent me photographs from the April, 1912, issue of The Ladies’ Home Journal, chock-full of fashion images and articles that help illuminate the time period. At the end of the article you will find a link to download a free eBook containing all the images in this special feature, plus an array of extra goodies that will help you gain an excellent picture of the time period. You can print these for your own personal use, and feel free to pass the link around to others. The eBook is free until the end of April!

Women’s fashions in 1912 were in a period of transition from the “S”-bend shape popular in the Edwardian era to the more natural, columnar silhouette of the middle 1910s. In the image at right from a 1908 fashion article, you can see the sway-backed silhouette and the emphasis on a tiny waist. Clothing catalogs of the time period still retain the S-bend fashions that had been popular for over a decade, but fashion magazines tended to feature what was new and grabbing attention in Europe. I have an original copy of a March 1912 issue of La Mode that shows the nouveau empire waistline that was coming into style:

Note the slightly raised waistline and the draped, layered effect of the skirts. These are day dresses appropriate for social calls and shopping. The posture is definitely more upright now with the emphasis on draped details and trims or shawl collar effects around the neckline. These dresses are all listed as "visiting costumes" and appropriate for day wear out on the town.

The blouses below from the May 1912 issue of La Mode show the new “natural” neckline now popular. The high lace collars would still hang on for another couple of years, but they were definitely on the way out:

These looks can be reproduced with my “Beatrix” Shirtwaist Pattern and pair perfectly with the “Beatrix” Skirt. The free eBook includes a feature on detachable collars for shirtwaists as well.

Lady Duff-Gordon in 1912. Note her draped neckline, multiple skirt layers, and filmy shawl.

Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon, was a well-known fashion designer in 1912 and also happened to be on the Titanic (she survived). Her beautiful gowns helped shape the new fashion era of the 1910s on into the 19-teens with their fuller skirts and emphasis on beautiful draping and the use of soft, floaty fabrics. Lucile’s designs attracted stage actresses and the well-to-do. They were also commercialized for middle-class catalogs in America, and Lucile wrote columns on fashion for several prominent magazines of the day. Her easy-fitting, romantic gowns paved the way for the “reform” styles of the 1910s, since she designed a less restrictive corset and did not bone the bodices of most of her gowns. Lucile’s famous claim was that she wanted to “dress the soul” and not just the body. She adored feminine lines and loved to use graceful, artistically draped materials.

Lucile's models pose in a line of tea gowns for 1912. Notice the waistline sashes on several and the natural necklines on all of them.

My 1910s Tea Gown pattern includes diaphanous skirt layers, the slightly raised waistline, and the Asian-inspired sash of the era. Its square neckline and bodice inset are appropriate for very dressy teas and for evening wear as well:

If you plan to attend any formal dinners or evening socials for Titanic, there are a lot of gorgeous extant 1912 evening gowns in museum collections that leave the mouth agape with the lusciously draped layers of silk, satin, chiffon, and velvet. The images below are from the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City:

1912 evening gown by Plaza Gown Parlors. You could definitely make this with my 1910s Tea Gown--just use lace panels instead of chiffon for the overdress and cut the front of the skirt on the fold. Gorgeous! 1912 evening gown by Paul Poiret The back view to show the squared train.

Be sure to check , as there is a beautiful pattern for a 1912 evening gown similar to the one above!

1912 evening gown by Herbert Lucy

If you’ll be mainly involved in daytime events like afternoon teas, steamboat outings, or even theme cruises, you’ll want to stick to day wear appropriate to the occasion. The image below is from a 1910 catalog and shows “lingerie” dresses considered correct for an outing on a ship or by the seashore:

You can see the high collars that had been popular for about 15 years by the time this catalog was published. Those collars would hang on for another few years, so you still see them in the following fashion images from the April, 1912, edition of The Ladies’ Home Journal.

Note that all the skirts have attractive details between the hipline and hem, including wide tucks and decorative buttons. The bodice on the far right shows the draping now growing in popularity. Here is the opening paragraph from the accompanying article:

It is in the first days of early spring, when under the sun’s warm rays we joyfully lay aside our heavy outer garments and furs, that our thoughts turn to a suitable dress for street wear. The material, color, and design must be decided upon with a view to the appropriateness for the time of day and purposes for which the gown is required. Taffeta is the newest silk, and is charming for simple undraped gowns and tailored suits, while the more clinging, supple qualities of crepe and satin charmeuse, and foulard, voile, and marquisette are given the preference for more composite designs.

This lovely brown Easter dress has elbow-length sleeves, a cross-draped bodice (creating a “V” in the center), and the overskirt with contrasting underskirt that would become ubiquitous in 1912-1914.

More hints for appropriate fabrics are given in an article titled, “What I See in New York” by Blanche G. Merritt:

[T]here are certain types of fabrics that are most cool and comfortable to wear: transparent cottons and voiles and thin summer silks; and it is well, when about to make such dresses, to select styles which, while suitable for all times, will be especially so for the warm days.

The fashions above for “stout women” show how beautifully tailored lines flattered all shapes. The asymmetrical front closure on the green suit at left slimmed the waist, as did the long lines of the brown coat. The draped necklines on the gowns at right created a “V” on top that matched the inverted “V” in the skirt, creating the illusion of an hourglass waistline. Beautiful! You still have the high lace collars here, which seem to be normal for “town” or “visiting” outfits.

From the text of the original article:

A long coat should be chosen not only with regard to design, color, and trimming, but also with regard to the purpose for which it is intended. If you can have only one coat, select a simple tailored one like the coat of brown broadcloth with a velvet collar shown above. Such a garment is always in good taste and may be worn for all occasions for several seasons.

Traveling suits are easy to create using my “Beatrix” Jacket Pattern, and it is quite possible to reproduce the asymmetrical fastening with a bit of tweaking as you cut out the jacket front. Feel free to drop me a line through the Contact Form if you have questions about how to do this. Past Patterns also offers a “Vintage Revivals” copy of a long coat pattern from 1911-12.

This sock advertisement from March 1912 shows a ladies’ afternoon dress. The style of the bodice is very similar to my 1914 Afternoon Dress pattern’s silhouette. The neckline features a lace inset, and there is lace at the edge of the shoulder around the armhole as well. The bodice and overskirt appear to have a lightweight, semi-sheer material over a candy pink fabric. Note the natural neckline and elbow-length sleeves. When I made an “heirloom” dress for myself from the 1914 pattern, it was very much inspired by this ad illustration (I added the blue silk belt for contrast):

This May, 1912, cover for The Housewife magazine also shows the natural neckline and elbow-length sleeves popular at the time. Note the beautifully detailed apron!

Amanda Kastner, winner of my 2004 Young Designers’ Contest, created the 1912 Kimono Dress Pattern (now available in ePattern format!). She drew her inspiration from a couple of fashion illustrations from 1911 and 1912:

The two-toned dress on the far left was the chief inspiration for the pattern, which is an absolutely perfect day dress for Titanic events and makes up beautifully as a tea gown in dressier fabrics like silk taffeta, silk georgette, and other materials that drape nicely. I love Amanda’s original illustration, which shows just how charming this easy-to-make dress is (note the optional inset on the right-hand dress, similar to the design second from the right in the illustration above):

Little girls’ clothing in 1912 reflected a trend toward more comfortable designs suitable for play:

I especially like the kimono-sleeve style of the dress on the far left. The neckline, cuffs, and hemline all use a contrasting material. The frock is simplicity itself–a big departure from the fussier dresses for little girls of a decade before. Note the wide collars with a “middy” influence on the two outfits to the right. The accompanying article recommends batiste, chambray, dotted Swiss, linen, and printed China silks for little girls’ dresses. For coats, serge (ridged twill) seems to be the favorite, but there’s also a recommendation to make a coat out of the same material as the dress (which is what you see on the far right model above).

The image below, from an April 1912 French fashion periodical (Moniteur), shows a girl in a dress very similar to my Girls’ 1914 Dress Pattern. The only modifications necessary would be raising the waistline about two inches and adding ruffles to the puffed sleeves. The eyelet collar over the bodice looks detachable, which matches a lot of the ladies’ fashions of the day.

Do not miss Au Fil du Temps on eBay, who graciously provided this image. They have a wealth of original fashion illustrations, including the two below from late 1911:

The drop-waist dress on the left with its wide belt is almost a “sneak peek” of early 1920s fashions for girls. It’s definitely comfortable and easy to wear. The longer “jumper”-style dress on the right goes over a fine cotton blouse. This is a simple style to reproduce, even with modern patterns.

Finding girls’ patterns from this time period is a little more challenging than finding ladies’, but they are out there. I highly recommend Hint of History’s Drop-Waist Dress pattern, which is great for 1912. Patterns of Time carries just about every single historical costume pattern in print and has a lot of girls’ dress and coat patterns from this period.

So what about boys? The sailor middy has been a perennial favorite from the mid-19th century all the way up to the present day. You saw the 1912 version in the Moniteur image above. These are fairly easy to reproduce with a simple double-breasted shirt pattern and a second pattern for knee-length shorts. Adding a middy collar is not difficult, and you can use the easy tutorial on eHow to create one. But the easiest outfit to reproduce by far (and one that requires minimal sewing and needs no pattern) is the classic “newsboy” look of the 1910s:

Real newsboys of the time period were usually poor children living hand-to-mouth, but their clothing (while patched and mended) still resembled what middle-class boys wore.

Up to about age 12, boys wore knickers over long socks (or stockings), paired with an Oxford-style button shirt (and sometimes a vest and/or tie). You can easily reproduce this look with thrift store clothing finds. Here’s what you’ll need:

On the left is a pair of dark brown corduroy trousers with no back pockets and no pleating– just simple, straight pants (dark khakis and wool suit trousers are also appropriate). On the right is a white button Oxford shirt. The collar has no buttonholes, which is important, as the collars of 1912 were starched and did not fasten to the front of the shirt with tiny buttons. Here’s a close-up:

No buttonholes--just a crisp pointed collar.

Have the boy for whom you’ll be making the outfit try on the trousers and stand on a chair. Grab one leg of the trousers about two inches below the knee and mark it, since that’s where the knee-band is going to go on these short pants (you want the trousers to pouf out a bit over the knee):

Using a measuring tape as a guide for your 5/8″ seam allowance, cut across the first leg of the trousers:

Take the part of the leg you’ve just cut away and use it to cut away the exact same amount from the other leg of the trousers. Now you have two cutoff sections:

Cut up one side of each cutoff section and open out flat. From the lower (hemmed) edge of these sections, cut two 3″-wide bands:

Have your model stand on the chair again, and measure the area below the knee for kneebands. These will need to fit snugly around the leg below the knee with enough of an overlap to button. You’ll also need to hem under the short raw edges of the bands, so be sure to leave room for that as well.

Once you’ve marked the bands, cut them to the correct length:

Now take the trousers and use a seam ripper to carefully open up about two and a half inches of the outseam on each leg:

Hem the opened outseam edges to finish them:

I've used white thread so you can see my stitching in these examples.

Now run two sets of basting stitches around the lower edge of each trouser leg, breaking at the inseam:

Hem the short raw edges of each knee band:

Pin each knee band to a trouser leg, right sides together, matching the hemmed short edges of the bands with the hemmed outseam openings and matching each inseam with the center of each band. (The long raw edge of the band will match the raw edge of the trousers.) Pull up basting stitches evenly to fit:

Here's one trouser leg gathered and pinned to a knee band.

Stitch each knee band to its trouser leg, then press the seam upwards (away from the knee band). As you see, the original hem from the trousers makes a nicely finished edge for the knee bands:

Here's the finished knee band, ready for a buttonhole.

Now its time to place a buttonhole in each knee band. Make sure you set the buttonhole on the “front” side of the knee band so that it will overlap the back.

Notice that the buttonhole is horizontal across the knee band.

Now try the short pants on your model and mark the button placement by overlapping the knee band and “buttoning” it closed (carefully!) with a pin:

Sew corresponding buttons in place, and your model is ready to dress up for all the fun! Here’s my “newsboy”:

You can also add a knit pullover vest for a slightly different look:

That iconic newsboy cap has never gone out of style. Here’s an image from the April 1912 issue of The Ladies’ Home Journal:

The description reads:

A favorite cap with the boys is shown above. It shades the eyes, fits snugly and only needs one good tug to put it on in the most secure manner. Then it has the additional attraction of being soft and small enough to slip into a boy’s pocket when necessary, all of which endears this peaked cap to the little man of the family.

You can easily find newsboy caps online or at local shops in a variety of woolens and tweeds. They are the perfect crowning touch to your Titanic-era boy’s outfit. Now, if this entire ensemble just happens to also look a bit like everyone’s favorite intrepid boy reporter, I can only plead guilty:

Okay, let’s take a quick look at men’s clothing from this time period. A quick look is all you need, because men’s fashion has changed so little in the past 100 years (leisure suits aside!). Here is the cover to a 1912 issue of Collier’s magazine:

That’s a pretty straightforward suit with pocket flaps on the front, notched lapels, and cuffed trousers. The key difference is in the collar of the shirt, which sits high around the neck rather than low against the lapel of the jacket. It is still possible to find these detachable starched collars today, or you can just get an Oxford dress shirt with no buttonholes in the collar and fold it a bit shorter to recreate this look. Here’s another image from a 1912 catalog:

Again, these are fairly basic suits with high collars. It is very easy to get second-hand suits inexpensively, but you want to keep an eye out for ones with three or four buttons up the front rather than two, as the suits of this time period fastened up closer to the tie and collar than suits of the mid-20th century. 1912 suits also fit closer to the body with a bit of a nipped-in waist. Bulky, loose suit coats are therefore not correct for a 1912 impression. Long overcoats (if worn) can, of course, be loose, as they go over the regular suit.

Older boys also wore suits with full-length trousers, as you see in this historic image of a newsboy announcing the sinking of Titanic:

It’s quite easy to find men’s hats that look correct for the time period, and men’s lace-up shoes really haven’t changed at all in 100 years, either! Etsy and eBay are both crammed with vintage and reproduction hats appropriate for the Titanic era. So let’s take a look at some hats for women and girls from 1912:

At left is a wide-brim “picture hat” with water lilies. At right is a tall “daisy-covered hat with graceful bow in front.”

You can see that wide-brimmed, flower-covered hats were quite the rage in April 1912 with these two examples. These are very easy to reproduce with a plain straw or “chip” base hat and artificial flowers. Looks like “the more, the merrier” applies here!

Here are a couple of adorable hats for little girls:

Here are the descriptions from the 1912 LHJ:

These hats may be made up in straw, or they are charming shapes for washable cretonne, linen, duck, or pongee.

What fun to dress up a couple of straw hats with wide ribbon bows to frame a girl’s face!

Okay, to round up, let me include some inspiration for 1910-1912 ladies’ hairstyles:

Coiled braids, top curls, and loose tendrils were quite the rage at this time. If you scroll back up to the Collier’s magazine cover, you can see the young lady driving the horse cart has two loose buns at the nape of the neck, while the hair on top is basically parted in the center and waved back over the ears. Women who didn’t have a lot of hair used “switches” created from their own hair (what fell out each time they brushed). So it’s not cheating to use extra braids and curls in a color matching your own hair!

For little girls, loose, fluffy curls and ringlets are perfect. You can learn how to easily set pincurls, but hot rollers are also fine if you’re pressed for time.

There are several excellent sources online that will help you further as you research Titanic-era styles. I highly recommend the following links:

YWU is a subscription-based site that offers hundreds of in-depth articles on reproducing period fashions. Best of all, this year’s focus is 1812 and 1912! There are several articles on Titanic fashions, including one on how to reproduce hats!

Historical Sewing has a fantastic article reviewing available Edwardian and Titanic-era sewing patterns and costuming books. This article is a huge lifesaver if you plan to dress yourself from the inside out for 1912.

American Duchess offers stunning reproduction shoes just perfect for Titanic costumes. The price is a bit ouchy ($110), but if you’re really going all out, this is the style you want to look for!

I hope you enjoy preparing for Titanic memorial events or just creating beautiful outfits to enjoy any time. Click on the image below to download the free eBook, which contains all the vintage images in this article, plus a bunch of wonderful bonus images, articles, and 1912 ads. Feel free to share the link. The eBook is available until the end of April. Happy sewing!

34 comments on “Reproducing 1912 Fashions – Remember Titanic!”

Thanks Jennie for this wonderful overview!

This is wonderful! Thank you for sharing your knowledge and library of images!

Love this–thank you so much for posting it! My great-grandmother came to America on the sister ship to the Titanic (the Olympic) the following year so this is a favorite era of mine.

Wonderful! Thank you for posting all your marvelous research!

Thank you so much! I’ve just had inspiration…Now off to check the patterns.

I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for this article! THANK YOU for sharing so much information and details – I can’t wait to get started sewing (as soon as I finish 4 Star Wars costumes and a set of decorative towels!)

Terrific, thank you! Took several tries to get the download but once I got it, great! Keep up the good work, I love your blog.

Thanks, Sandra! The download got a ton of traffic, so that’s probably why it took so long. Glad you got it!

What a terrirfic article! You really went all out for this one! I had never seen the picture of you in the afternoon gown before – so lovely!

Thank you so much for this lovely resource!

wonderful! I really enjoyed the article and thanks for your hard work. I added a link to the ebook on my “Year of Weldon’s” blog. I’m working my way through a year of knitting projects from Weldon’s Practical Knitter issues, and this article fits right into my time frame.

Wow! I’m so happy I discovered you. I’m making some costumes for me and my children for a volunteer play of Music Man that we are doing, and I was sooo inspired. Thanks for sharing all your hard work.

Could you share some particulars regarding the group shot of Lucile’s tea gowns? I am fascinated by the woman standing on the right (no hat). We could be twins! Is there any description of the dresses or other construction information, I’d love to reproduce it?

Hi, Karen! I still have a copy of my original page on Lady Duff-Gordon archived. That’s all the info I have on this fascinating lady. Randy Bryan Bigham started a book on Lucile many years ago, but I don’t know if it’s been published yet. He’s the expert on all things Lucile. Hope this helps!

It appears his book is or is about to be published.

It’s a bit pricey but looks very interesting. This might need to go on a Christmas/birthday wish list. I will just have to meditate on the picture and see if I can intuit how the dress was made. A challenge!

I love every single thing you do – always. Thank you for educating us all so beautifully about the various eras!

You are too sweet, Barbara! Thanks for the kind comment. 🙂

Thank you so much for the great knickers for boys! I have twin 10 year old boys and would appreciate any boywear patterns or modifications.

Also, at what age did girls start wearing ladies dresses? I have a 14 yo girl.

Hi, Christine! Girls went into “grown-up” clothes when they were old enough to “come out” in society. That was usually 18 or 20. But if you had a 16-year-old who was working as a schoolteacher, she’d wear more adult-style clothing, as she would already be “out” in the world. Hope this helps!

What a FABULOUS e-book and article Jennie and THANK YOU SO MUCH for sharing it with us.

Hi i love the movie lots I watch the videos on you tube and i am trying to make rose”s dress jump one but just the black cover and her swim dress if you have any ideas for me on how much fabric i need and whar kind that would be great thanks Donna .

Donna, my 1910s Tea Gown pattern is the best to use for reproducing the “swim” dress. I don’t have a pattern that’s close to the “jump” dress, but you can read how I reproduced one in my “Titanic Project” section. Hope this helps!

Nice post about the 1912 fashion lines. Lady Duff Gordon is my 23rd cousin 10 times removed and she sought the future of fashion. She came up with a slit skirt, negligees, and lingeries, and also invented the catwalk which is still used in fashion shows today. I read the Randy Bigham stories about my cousin and I’m even making my own Edwardian dress! The Edwardian/Titanic Era is my favourite time period!

Wow! That’s amazing, Kristen!

I forgot to make note that the dress I’m making was a white dress with kimono sleeves, a train, and a sash at my waistline. I was researching the edwardian dress and I found the one that I was interested in re-making. After a week when I started attaching the skirt, I decided to look up the name of the designer of the dress I’m making. It was Lady Duff Gordon who originally made the dress. So basically, I making my cousin’s dress for myself. Quite the coincidence, eh?

I forgot to make note that the dress I’m making was a white dress with kimono sleeves, a train, and a sash at my waistline. I was researching the edwardian dress and I found the one that I was interested in re-making. After a week when I started attaching the skirt, I decided to look up the name of the designer of that dress. It was Lady Duff Gordon. So basically, I’m making my cousin’s dress for myself. Quite the coincidence, eh?

I want to know how long the ladies’ dresses were!

Hi, Rebecca! They are ankle to floor length for evening, usually with trains in the back. Hope this helps!

just used your instructions to make some plus fours for my son who is a ‘passenger on the titanic’ in his school assembly. instructions are really clear and easy to follow and the trews look fab (have yet to try them on him but fingers crossed for a good fit!). thank you.

Excellent! So glad this was helpful!

I love your site!

All these are smart fashions, I’d like to know what people wore indoors, did they wear cardigans to keep warm in winter, and if so what style were they?

Hi, Mary! Everyday clothing did, indeed, include cardigans and jackets. I have a 1911 catalog that shows ready-to-wear fashions for everyday use. There are skirts, “waists” (blouses), cardigans, lightweight coats and more. One of these days I will get around to posting that catalog! In the meantime, check out http://www.vintagevictorian.com/costume_1912.html for more examples (including links to patterns and more images). Hope this helps!

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