#you pick up a department store mannequin and give her a name you think is beautiful. a name. a NAME !!! something you never felt the need to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caitimetravels · 3 years

Text

she's insignificant

chapter 4: run girl run

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"you will be working on locating number five instead" reginald instructed the young girl. she raised her head in shock.

"what?"

"come, we must work in solitude" he ignored her confusion, uncaring for her feelings as usual. he lead her down the stairs. she only remembered coming down here once as a child, it was when vanya was sick. reginald showed her to a vault like room. she stared at it, unsure.

"you will be training down here from now on, your siblings will not disrupt you down here"

the h/c haired girl stared at the room with wide eyes. her siblings wouldn't disrupt her or she wouldn't disrupt them..?

————————————————–

"like i said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. without the client's consent i simply can't help" lance biggs sat in his office chair, staring at klaus as he talked. five stood beside the chair y/n sat in, hands in pockets and annoyed.

"well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name" five leaned in, gritting his teeth.

"well, that's not my problem" lance shrugged, "sorry, now there's really nothing i can do so.."

"oh, what about my consent?" klaus looked up now, gaining five and y/n's attention. what was he doing? "who gave you permission to lay your hands on my son?"

"what?" the other three people in the room all spoke in unison.

"you heard me"

"i didn't touch your son" lance argued, glancing at five.

"oh, really?" klaus begun to lean forwards, moving to stand up. "well then how did he that swollen lip then?"

"he doesn't have a swollen lip-" lance was cut off as klaus struck five across the face. five touched a hand to his now bleeding lip, glaring at klaus in confusion.

"and, what about my daughter? how dare you lay a hand on her. she's so sweet and innocent" klaus turned to y/n now, gesturing to her. she awaited a hit now, sure he was going to punch her. "how could you assault her like that?" and just as she thought he slapped a hand across her face, leaving a bright red hand print.

"i want it. name please, now" klaus turned back to lance, leaning on his desk. the doctor raised a shaky finger at him.

"you're crazy"

"you got no idea" klaus laughed breathlessly before taking notice of the snow globe resting on the desk. he picked it up smiling as he read it. "'peace on earth' that's so sweet" y/n jumped in surprise as he smashed it over his head, groaning in pain. he held his hands to his face for a moment before looking back up, hair dripping with water and glitter. blood dripped down the side of his head.

lance quickly dialled a number into the phone, lifting it to his ear. he was still in shock, "i'm calling security- what are you doing?!"

y/n stood and gently gripped five's blazer sleeve, pulling him back as klaus ripped the phone from lance's grip. five glanced at her in confusion but then realised what was happening as he barely missed an elbow to the face as klaus dramatically cried into the phone.

"there's been an assault in mr biggs office and we need security now, schnow!" klaus slammed the phone back onto the table before leaning close to lance. "here's what's gonna happen grant"

"it's lance-"

"in about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and they're gonna wonder what the hell happened and we're gonna tell them that you, beat the shit out of us" klaus breathed for a moment standing up straight now, staring the doctor down. "you're gonna do great in prison grant, trust me, i've been there. little piece of chicken like you, oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a.. you're gonna do great, that's all i'm saying" klaus waved his hand, smiling.

five smirked now, proudly standing beside klaus. y/n nervously stood behind five, watching over his shoulder.

"jesus, you're a real sick bastard" lance stared up at him, stunned.

"thank you" klaus spat out a piece of glass.

————————————————–

"focus, number eight!" reginald shouted once again, frustrated as she failed once again to find her missing brother. she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying to ignore his insults.

it had been almost 6 years since five had disappeared and around 1 since ben died. she had spent that year working on finding her brother only to be unsuccessful. it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth, she didn't know how her father expected her to find him.

she needed to focus. her eyes glazed over again as she opened them, turning black for the sixth time that hour. her hands glowed a soft white colour in her lap as her powers worked. she couldn't hear her father anymore.

she opened her eyes slowly to see destruction. where was she? she notices a store behind her, flames still burning endlessly upon rubble. carefully she walked into what was left of the department store. there sat a mannequin in a white top with black dots, only the top half of the mannequin was still undamaged, she had a single arm and no hair but what was left of her body was fine. suddenly someone walked through y/n. she stared at the boy for a moment, recognising him as her missing brother.

"five..?"

————————————————–

klaus sat atop the bench while five sat across from lance who searched through the files. y/n stood in between the two, arms crossed and guarded as she watched everything over klaus' shoulder. her face still slightly hurt, hand print clearly visible.

lance nervously flicked through the file five was looking for before pausing as he read it.

"huh.. that's strange"

"what?" five snapped impatiently,

"uh the eye, it hasn't been purchased by a client yet" lance looked up at him now,

klaus jumped off the bench, stepping behind lance. "what? what do you mean?"

"well, our logs say that the eye with that serial number.." klaus stepped over to his other side and leaned over his left shoulder. "this can't be right, it hasn't even been manufactured yet. where did you get that eye?"

lance, klaus and y/n all looked to five. where did he get that eye?

————————————————–

he was a little older than she remembered but he was definitely the same boy that ran away all those years ago. he didn't answer her voice, not hearing her at all. she frowned, watching as he dug through what was left of the store. he was searching for something useful.

while he dug through scraps she went back to the beautiful mannequin. she was surprised at how it had managed to stay okay through all of this destruction around them. she reached a hand out to touch her before she heard five's voice. had he seen her?

"five" she smiled, turning to him only for him to walk right through her again. she frowned, why couldn't he see her? she tried to grab his arm but her hand only phased through. she was like a ghost.. where was she? where was five? "five, can you hear me?" she stood in front of him, trying everything to get his attention.

"five? five!" why couldn't she help him? she just wanted to help. she felt so useless, watching him walk around and gather materials. she couldn't speak to him, he couldn't hear her..

————————————————–

"well, this is not good" five breathed out in annoyance as they exited the building.

"i was pretty good though right? 'yeah, what about my consent, bitch?'" klaus grinned, giddy as they stepped out. y/n sighed at her brother, trailing behind.

"klaus, it doesn't matter" five snapped, stopping on the last step to glare at him. klaus stopped just after, turning to face him.

"what? what? what? what's the big deal with this eye anyway?" klaus carelessly threw his hand in the air, not at all bothered.

"there's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. they're going to bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it" five spoke seriously, stressed.

y/n's eyes narrowed. that's where he had been..

————————————————–

she felt herself being pulled away, like someone was tugging her. she fought, wanting to stay, she needed to help him. she needed to tell five he could get back, she could help him, she would.

she continued to call for him even though she knew it was useless. she wasn't able to help him no matter how hard she tried. she was like a ghost. five finally stopped rummaging, now noticing the mannequin behind her.

"how did you.." he spoke softly, he even sounded the same. god, she missed him. she almost broke down again as he walked through her, picking up the mannequin softly. just as y/n faded she reached her hand out, trying to touch him. her hand instead gripped the mannequin. she shouted in pain as she felt like she was being torn apart. she squeezed her eyes shut hoping the pain would stop.

when her eyes opened again she found herself in that same room with her father scowling down at her. he watched her for a moment, for once allowing her to calm down. she slowed her breathing, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, bitterly.

"report, number eight?" reginald asked, impatiently glaring.

"i.." she paused, she couldn't tell him. she would find five on her own if she had to but she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't. she was a failure. she couldn't tell him she couldn't do it, the punishment would be too great. "i didn't find him.."

reginald clicked his tongue in disappointment. "you are dismissed until further notice. training will not resume"

"what? but what about five-"

"number five is gone and you can do nothing to help him if you keep failing, number eight. you are too weak. you are dismissed" he snapped, narrowing his eyes, daring her to talk back again.

she stayed silent.

————————————————–

klaus paused before ignoring five's ominous tone, "yeah, can i get that twenty bucks like now or what?"

"your twenty bucks?" five stared at him in disbelief.

"yeah, my twenty bucks"

"the apocalypse is coming and all you can think about it getting high?" five got up in klaus' face, annoyed. how could he not care that the world was ending?

"hey, um.. five?" y/n tried to diffuse the situation before anything could happen. she didn't need another family fight.

"well, i'm also quite hungry" "tummys-a-rumbling, grr" klaus grinned, patting his stomach and imitating gurgling sounds.

"you're useless.." the boy clad in uniform mumbled, incredulous. "you're all useless!" he begun to walk away to the stairs of the building.

"five? hey, come on. i'm sure we can do something else to stop the-" y/n smiled softly, walking behind him, holding his blazer sleeve. klaus interrupted her.

"oh, come on, you need to lighten up, old man" he stayed where he was, exasperated. "klaus!" y/n scolded, sitting beside five only to be ignored. "hey, you know i've just now realised why you're so uptight! you must be horny as hell. all those years by yourself, that's gotta screw with your head, being alone" he acted sympathetic as he sat on five's other side. y/n rolled her eyes, he was definitely just doing this for his money.

"well, i wasn't alone" five stared off while he fiddled with his fingers.

"oh? pray tell" klaus turned, interested.

five looked up now, reminiscent. "her name was dolores, we together for over 30 years"

"30 years? oh wow, god, the longest i've been with someone was.. i don't know.. three weeks?" five's eyebrows furrowed, bored. he looked around for an escape. "and that's only because i was so tired of looking for a place to sleep-" he noticed a cab driving by and took y/n's hand before blinking into the cab. "he did make the most fantastic ossobuco though, it was.. five? y/n?"

the pair appeared the back of the cab, scaring the driver. "don't stop. just keep going" five instructed before leaning out the window and saluting condescendingly at klaus.

"hey, hey, hey, hey! what about my money?!" he shook his hand, angrily yelling at them.

————————————————–

"y/n, dear" grace smiled at her, standing in the doorway to the library. her siblings stood around their mother, all ready for bed. she was going to tuck them in. "it's bed time, come now, let's get you ready"

y/n stared at her books for a moment before ultimately sighing and following along. she brought two with her though. diego walked beside her, as grumpy as usual and only there because he was a mommy's boy. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion however at the books in her hands.

"why do you need books on physics and probability?" y/n looked up at him, surprised he was talking to her. usually her siblings ignored her now that she wasn't part of their missions. she stared at him for a moment, deciding whether to tell him or not. with a glance at the cameras in the room she decided against it.

"none of your business" she muttered quietly, curling her arms around the books, holding them to her chest. it gave diego a look at the equations written on her arm though. what was she up to?

he dropped it nonetheless. he didn't care too much if he was being honest, what she did was her business.. for now.

she was going to find him. she had to. with her books splayed out around her she made sure to stay to the quiet corner of the library, the one no camera in this house reached. loose sheets and notebooks filled with equations sat messily in front of her, decorating her wide array of books. if she could only tell five she could help him. he was surely smart enough to figure this out on his own but how long would it take him? she wanted him to come back sooner not later.

"come on, you can do this" she clenched her hands into fists, glowing white as she focused. her eyes turned black and she looked around. she couldn't move, she was stuck. she noticed five walking around but her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to. he walked over now however, did he finally see her? he smiled, taking a seat beside her. she noticed a book in his hand but she couldn't read what it was. he scribbled in it, focused. the only she noticed was that she was sat in red wagon, unmoving and unblinking. what was wrong with her?

five wrote down a few more numbers, showing her what he had written so far. it was similar to what sat beside her earlier. "i've almost got the equations dolores"

what..? her name wasn't dolores?

she gasped as she was shaken back to reality. looking up she found a concerned looking klaus with diego a few feet behind him.

"oh god" klaus sighed in relief as her eyes turned back to normal. "i thought you died or something"

"idiot, if she was dead her powers wouldn't have been working" diego scoffed although he too looked quite relieved she was okay.

"what were you doing?" klaus sat beside her now, staring at the numerous equations in front of him.

"what are you doing? shouldn't you be training or something?" she frowned, annoyed at having been caught and interrupted.

"we asked you first" diego countered, crossing his arms.

"i was practicing, nothing you should be concerned about" she waved it off, packing up her books and notes.

"it looks like a lot more than practicing, eight" he moved closer, stepping on the sheet she was about to pick up. he leaned over her, watching her carefully. she eyed him back, just as daring.

"you don't know what it looks like, two" she stated calmly, still holding the sheet.

"c'mon, y/n, just tell us what you're doing" klaus whined, "what are we gonna do? tell dad? we're not luther"

y/n snorted, remembering the jokes they used to make about luther sniffing dad's underwear. "fine, i was looking for five, dad stopped my training" diego stepped back now, confused.

"why would he stop your training?"

y/n paused, looking guilty. she glanced nervously between the two of them before waving them down towards her, whispering. "you can't tell anyone.. i lied to dad, i did find five"

"you're kidding" both boys stared at her in disbelief.

"why would you l-lie? w-w-w-what are you going to do if h-h-he finds o-out?!" diego freaked out now, his stutter coming out in his nervousness.

"he's not going to find out. he doesn't care about me now, i'm practically useless to him now" she shrugged, continuing to stack her papers again. "besides i can't move or talk to five whenever i find him, i just.. exist. i'm like a ghost or something. i still need to figure out how to communicate with him" she sighed heavily. first, she wanted to figure out what book he was reading. she had never seen it before.

————————————————–

"what are we doing?" y/n and five stood outside the department store.

"i thought i said no questions until later" he raised an eyebrow at her. "we're just here to get something" she shrugged and he held her arm before blinking them inside. they walked around for a moment, using five's flashlight.

"oh my god! five look!" y/n gushed, noticing postcards on a stand. "they have so many cities!" he stared at her for a second, confused by her fascination before remembering she had never really left the house. she gasped suddenly, turning around and holding up a fluffy bunny keychain. "it's so cute!"

a small fond smile grew on five's face as she took interest in the small, almost useless items that the store had to offer. with a sad look she turned to him, still holding the white bunny keychain. "five.. can i keep it?"

he paused, he was about to take dolores so he didn't see why not. if he said no he would be hypocritical.

"fine. but don't touch anything else, okay? we can't risk getting caught" he nodded before walking away. y/n grinned, hooking the keychain into her belt loop before looking around.

five finally found dolores, looking up at her. "dolores.. it's good to see you"

"i've missed you, obviously.. well, it's been a rough couple of days" y/n couldn't see who he was talking to but heard his voice. she frowned, he had gone through a lot.

suddenly five yelled, "no!" and then there were gunshots. y/n dropped to the floor, praying five was alright. she ducked behind a gardening stand. five appeared beside her and she almost screamed. he held a finger to his lips, shushing her. she nodded, watching as he grabbed a spade, testing it's swing before disappearing again.

she watched as he fought one of the two shooters, slicing their arm before running again. she couldn't see him after that, not until he came back over with a bag, pulling her with him. they ducked down one of the aisles and he tried to spatial jump but it didn't work. he was too tired.

"shit.. come on!" he tried again. in a last effort they ran and jumped over a stall, caught as the lights from the guns shone on them like headlights. both five and y/n froze.

"got him" the one with the pink mask spoke before they were distracted by sirens. five used this to their advantage, pulling y/n out and away from the line of fire. they stayed behind a stand, waiting for the masked shooters to leave before they did themselves.

as they sat y/n finally got a good look at dolores, freezing when she realised she knew the mannequin.

"oh my god.."

"what?" five furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"you were in a relationship with.. a mannequin?" she looked up at him in disbelief. the mannequin was not her issue though.

"look, if you have a problem-" he glared, ready to defend himself but she shook her head.

"no, no. i get it.. it's just.. " she trailed off awkwardly.

"what?" he snapped, getting impatient.

"five.. my soul was in that mannequin"

tags: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1

#tua #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x sibling reader #the umbrella academy x sibling reader #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves

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writerpeach · 4 years

Text

Competition

Blackpink Rosé x Male Reader

8325 words

categories - smut, rough sex, oral, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, voyeurism

---

read on AFF

read on AO3

Rosé just wanted to enjoy her day off.

There she was at her favorite cafe with her best friend, sipping on her iced americano on a hot summer day, trying to ignore Jennie’s annoying habit of guessing the dick size of every young guy that walked into the cafe.

“Six inches...eight inches…” Jennie quietly said, subtlety pointing at each man entering.

“No, wait...nine inches. He’s definitely packing.”

“Can you stop being a slut for five seconds?” Rosé asked, loudly slurping on her drink.

“Have you met me?” Jennie laughed.

“Sadly yes,” Rosé teased. “Your legs are like a convenience store, they never close.”

Jennie stuck her tongue out. “You’re just jealous that I get dicked down more. Oh, that guy definitely has a huge cock.”

“Are you trying to beat your record? Getting fucked by four guys wasn’t enough? Unnie, save some cock for the rest of us.”

“There’s plenty here to go around. Like a dick buffet."

“God, you really are a whore. You do know you don't actually need dick to survive?"

“You’re just saying that because not every guy will drop his pants for you.”

Rosé scoffed. “Is that so? You think I couldn’t pick any cute guy here to suck off in the bathroom?”

“That’s too easy, there’s nothing but hot guys here. You need a real challenge.”

“I’ll take whatever you can throw at me.”

“You’re on then. Follow me.”

✦✦

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jennie asked.

“I’m not backing down,” Rosé said.

“Fine. Two rules, and you must accept both.”

“No problem.”

“The first - the next guy who shows up. It doesn’t matter who - you drop to your knees and you suck him off.“

“That’s it? The bathroom is right there, this will be a cakewalk.”

“Bathroom? Sorry, Rosie, that’s off-limits. That’s too easy. You suck his fucking dick right here.”

“What? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Rosé said exasperatedly.

“Too scared? Don’t worry I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Fine, whatever. What’s the second rule?”

“No swallowing. I know that’ll be difficult for a little cumslut like you.”

Rosé scoffed. “What do I do when he cums then?”

“That’s not my problem, you figure it out,” Jennie laughed.

“Fine. You’re on you whore.“

✦✦

You had one plan for the day, pick up new clothes for work, and head out. Your favorite department store was always crowded after work, so you took the morning off, needing to run other errands at the same time anyways. You used your time to shop early first thing, seeing very little people getting in your way.

Heading towards the section you always browsed, you walked with purpose, but before reaching your destination you were stopped as you heard a voice to your left.

“H-hi!”

You saw what caused the interruption - two gorgeous women to your left, one slightly skinnier than the other with colorful hair in a variety of pink and purple hues.

“Hi? Uh, can I help you, ladies?”

The girl with the purple hair smiled. “Well, in a way. I’m here to help you.”

Her voice was accentuated by an incredibly sexy Australian accent, were it not for that you would have completely ignored her. You didn’t really know what she was talking about or what she wanted but you weren’t that interested anyway.

“I’m sorry but I’m pretty busy right now,” you replied.

“Oh, this won’t take long. Well...it might depending on you,” she playfully said with a giggle.

“You’re stalling, Rosie,” the dark-haired woman said.

“If you’re trying to sell me something I’m not interested, I’m just here to pick some things up for work,” you said.

“We’re not!” she responded.

“Rosie-”

“How you’d like to get your dick sucked today?” She abruptly asked, throwing you completely off-guard.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She smiled again. “It’s still pretty early. Wouldn’t you like to start your day off by having a pretty girl sucking your cock?”

You were stunned. “I-I, I don’t even know you-”

“Well, my name is Roseanne, but you can call me Rosé. This is my friend Jennie, but you don’t have to pay attention to her.” Not simply just Rose, but Rosé. You might have rolled your eyes were you not looking in their direction.

“What the fuck-” Jennie complained.

“It’s not every day you get an offer like this, is it? If you’re not interested in a little you know...” she said, making a jerking off motion and miming her cheek being full.

“I’ll just leave you alone and find someone else.”

“Wait. Hold on-”

“See? Told you he’d be interested, “ Jennie said.

“I’m very good at it,” Rosé smirked, sweetening the pot. Well, how could you refuse an offer like that?

“So you’ll just blow me...just like that?”

“Of course,” Rosé eagerly responded.

“Why? I’m just a stranger.”

“That’s part of the fun. Does it really matter why?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Come on then,” Rosé said as she offered her hand and whisked you away to a faraway part of the department.

“This will do nicely,” she said.

“Wait. Here? There’s like two bathrooms right over there”

“Bathrooms are against the rules,” Jennie interrupted.

“Rules?”

“We’re just having some friendly competition,” Rosé said.

You hesitated. “We could get caught, arrested or who knows what else.“

“Isn’t that also part of the fun? The thrill of getting caught? Besides, I’ll be making you feel so good you won’t even be thinking of anything else. ” Rosé said with a flirty smile.

“I’ll be a really good lookout,“ Jennie said.

“Look, do you want me to suck your dick or not? I’m not gonna ask again,” Rosé asked impatiently.

“O-of course I do.”

It was a rather secluded area in the corner of the men’s department. High shelves and mannequins dressed better than you ever had blocked most of the view, and Jennie found herself in a rather perfect position to keep an eye out for anyone who would ruin the fun.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as Rosé slowly lowered her body down until her knees hit the carpet, positioning herself in front of a rack of expensive-looking sports jackets that obscured the view as she grabbed a hairband off her wrist and used it to tie her hair up into a messy ponytail.

“Relax,” Rosé reassured as she began unfastening your pants, dragging your zipper down as if in slow motion as she looked up, giving you a good look at her natural features. Rosé was so beautiful to look at. Her eyes were gorgeous, her full pink lips looked so kissable as you braced yourself, knowing you were about to feel them on your body.

She yanked your pants down to your ankles, and her eyes were drawn to the forming bulge in your boxers as she licked her lips. Grabbing a handful of crotch she rubbed at your cock through the restricting fabric of your underwear, planning her next move as she traced the outline of your hardening shaft.

“What should I call you?” she pondered.

“Well, I do have a name. It’s- “

“No names,” she bluntly interrupted. “If you tell me your name then you won’t be a stranger anymore.”

Rosé grabbed the waistband of your boxers and pulled them down in one swift swooping motion, releasing your trapped cock and briefly avoiding getting smacked in the face with it.

“Wow,” she said full of surprise as her eyes grew wide at the sight of your unleashed shaft.

“Can I call you...Daddy?” Rosé asked as she grabbed your dick and squeezed gently, stroking slowly as her fingers wrapped around your hard throbbing shaft.

“Call me anything you like.”

“Okay. You have a really nice cock, daddy.”

The second time she used the word you felt a tingle up your spine.

“That’s a little overboard, Rosie,” Jennie teased as she overheard.

“Just shut up and do your job,” she fired back.

And there you were, trying to process it all. Your pants down to your ankles in the middle of a fucking department store, being jerked off by a girl you had met no less than five minutes ago. Her innocent face was at odds with what she was doing, and you weren’t sure why you had landed such an opportunity, but quite frankly you didn’t care and were going to enjoy every moment.

Rosé watched the look in your eyes as she stroked your cock, spitting on your shaft to help lubricate it as she twisted her soft delicate hand as she squeezed and pumped up and down, making you leak all over her fingers. She enjoyed it all too much, it was as if she was testing you to see how long you could hold out until you felt her lips.

The moment you felt her wet tongue pressing flat against your shaft, gently brushing up from base to tip you groaned louder than expected, feeling the wetness of her saliva being left in the form of a thin sheen all over your cock.

Rosé did not miss a spot, flicking up and down every inch of your shaft before she found your swollen sensitive tip and began swirling around it in a way she had done many times before, collecting your pre-cum as her tongue gathered every drop that leaked out of your slit.

Her sparkling eyes looked up once more as if to ask if you were ready, although nothing could prepare you for the next few moments. Giving a chaste kiss on the very tip of your shaft, Rosé wettened her lips and they parted as they wrapped around your cock and you felt yourself entering the warmth of Rosé’s mouth.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, as her pretty lips sealed around the head of your cock, gently sucking your tip while keeping a hand stroking your shaft.

She began to bob her head as her lips went deeper down your shaft and retracted back, giving you deep satisfying pleasure as her lips slowly sucked you off at a slow sensual pace.

"That feels fucking amazing."

"I taught her everything she knows," Jennie butted in.

"Oh please," Rosé said, rolling her eyes."I give way better head than you. You just go for quantity over quality."

Your eyebrow furrowed, letting her know you didn’t know what she meant by that.

“Jennie sucked four guys off in a bathroom once. And they all fucked her after that.”

“You girls are wild.”

“We just like to have fun,” Jennie replied.

The warmth of Rosé’s mouth returned, as the pace of her blowjob changed dramatically, slobbering all over your cock as she used one hand to stroke your cock in a corkscrew motion while the other fondled your balls.

“They feel so full, daddy. Seems like you have a lot of cum for me.”

It didn’t take long until Rosé was taking most of you inside her mouth, slurping on your cock like she had missed breakfast and was starving. Her lips felt so soft and her mouth felt so wet, you’d had to admit this was easily one of the best blowjobs you’d ever had.

“God, you’re really good at this,” you admitted, encouraging Rosé as she slapped your cock on her wet pink tongue before licking all around it.

“I’m glad you like it, daddy.”

Her lips tightened around your shaft as she slurped and moaned around your cock, loud enough to make you remember you were very much not in a place designed for such a lewd act, trusting Jennie to keep an eye out.

Rosé bobbed her head faster as she gave long, deep satisfying strokes with her plump lips, moving closer to the end of your cock each time.

“This is my favorite part,” she said with a sly smile, adding more suction and saliva with every movement until her lips met your base and she began deepthroating you, causing you to hit the back of her tight throat and groaned in pleasure.

“Oh f-fuuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back.

The time for slow and sensual was over, as Rosé swallowed up your cock, messily sucking on it with her hungry mouth as she braced herself on your thighs, keeping the oral onslaught on your cock at full potential.

“I hope you’re almost done with him, Rosie. I keep seeing more and more people,” Jennie said.

“Oh, I think we’re getting to the finish line. You’re close aren’t you, daddy?”

You weren’t given a chance to respond as you felt your cock hit the back of Rosé’s tight warm throat, maintaining constant eye contact as she took you deep down as you would fit. Her lips hit your base with every stroke and she moved rapidly from base to tip and then the reverse, not once feeling the need to come up for air as pleasured your cock, wildly bobbing her head up and down to draw out your orgasm.

You closed your eyes almost involuntarily. Savoring the way Rosé’s soft lips traveled up and down your shaft, leaving a trail of saliva and the hungrily slurp of her lips and her wet tongue playing around with the underside of your needy shaft.

There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to last much longer, and you were thankful for that as Rosé sucked the life out of your cock, that knot in your belly tightening more and more by the second.

“I...I’m gonna cum.”

Rosé’s eyes lit up as she pulled your cock out of her mouth, furiously jerking you off in anticipation. You waited for her to open her mouth back up again, surely she wasn’t going to let you-

“She’s not allowed to swallow,” Jennie explained as she approached for a closer look at the action, interrupting your thoughts.

“Another rule?” you asked. Jennie nodded. “You sure have a lot of rules.”

“Just have to keep it interesting. We do this a lot, “ Jennie smirked.

Rosé kept the pressure on your cock as she stroked even faster, the gears turning in her head as she realized that without the ability to keep your cum contained in her pretty mouth that there weren’t a whole lot of places for your cum to go. Except for all over her.

“I can’t wait for you to explode, daddy.”

You just stood there, practically motionless as you watched Rosé jerking you off furiously, one stroking your cock while the other fondled your balls, doing everything she could to drain your balls as fast as possible.

Watching the eagerness in your eyes, you felt every stroke through your entire body, the faster and longer she stroked the deeper your breathing became until you gave into the pleasure.

“Oh god, I’m-”

You groaned louder than you were expecting as you erupted all over Rosé’s stunning innocent features. Rosé leaned forward as her face collected thick milky strands of hot cum everywhere, painting her forehead and cheeks, her cute nose, and her pink lips. You felt all the tension in your body being released all at once as Rosé milked every last drop onto her beautiful face, her expression in awe at how much of your load she had covered herself in.

Rosé smiled widely and proudly, cleaning off the remains of your cock clean and feeling a wetness between her thighs forming at the task she had just performed in public.

“We should go. It’s getting busier,” Jennie said.

“I’ll just head to the bathroom and then we can leave-”

Jennie looked down at the girl with her face covered in your cum. “Bathroom? Did you forget already?”

“You said I couldn’t use it to suck his cock in,” Rosé said as she stood, feeling the weight of your load as it began dripping down her face.

“Well, you can’t use it to clean up either. And no using your shirt either. “

“Jennie, what the fuck? Aren’t you taking this a bit too far?”

“Am I? You wanted to dethrone me, didn’t you? Then you’ll walk outside with this messy fucking load all over your slutty face.”

Rosé sighed, frustrated, and dumbfounded.

“You can’t be fucking serious. Look at me, I’m a mess.”

“Hey, you agreed to this. You can clean yourself off when we get to the car, I’ll bring it around front. Now, give him your number before anything, and I’ll meet you there,” Jennie said as she gave Rosé’s cum-stained face a long lick, sampling a bit of your semen and licking her lips.

“You taste good. It was nice meeting you,” she smiled and headed off in her own direction.

“Jennie!” Rosé yelled, realizing she was powerless to do anything at this point. She couldn’t waste any more time as you grabbed your phone and handed it to her as she inputted her digits into it, calling herself as you heard the vibration of her phone in your pocket.

“I’ll see you later,” she said with a nervous smile as she hurriedly exited the department, trying to avoid anyone and everyone as she was still covered with you as she stepped into a waiting car idling by the entrance.

✦✦

You don’t remember what time it was, but you felt the buzz of your phone going off twice as you stared up at the ceiling, resting from both the day's events and an unusually long day of work.

There were two messages as you checked your phone, both from the girl named Rosé which you had met earlier as part of your lucky day. The first was a full-body selfie, showing herself still in the same outfit from before.

The second message was an address.

These clothes are annoying me, daddy. Come take them off of me.

Well, you certainly weren’t going to refuse such an offer.

Twenty minutes later you arrived at her apartment, both excited and nervous to see her again.

“Rosie, your dick appointment is here,” Jennie said as you knocked on the door as she unexpectedly answered it.

“Oh, hi, daddy!” Rosé excitedly said as she scurried to the door. Jennie verbally groaned. “Are you still going to call him that?”

“Yes. You don’t mind do you, daddy?” Rosé said playfully. While her outfit remained the same, you clearly noticed the lack of a bra, not that you minded.

“Not at all.”

“See, I thought so. Okay, time for you to go, Jennie. I’m sure like twelve guys are waiting in a public bathroom somewhere to give you all a facial again.”

“It was only four. And you think I'm going to miss out on all the fun?” Jennie said.

Rosé rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not going to let him fuck you too if that’s what you’re thinking. His cock is too nice to share with your slutty ass.”

“You selfish whore.”

“Find your own cock, Jennie, this one is all mine.” Rosé smiled.

“Fine,” Jennie huffed, as she grabbed something out of Rosé’s back pocket. “But I’m going to be nice and help out. Might as well put this new phone to good use, hm Rosie?”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. Can’t you go be a slut somewhere else?”

Jennie turned her attention towards you. “Look, if you’re going to have a hot night with this little slut, wouldn’t you like to be able to replay it over and over?”

“That does sound nice…”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with her, daddy,” Rosé sighed. “Fine, but you don’t get to touch him, and stay out of the way.”

“I’ll be just like a ghost.”

You weren’t expecting a second pair of eyes, but given the circumstances in how you met Rosé, you felt like anything could happen with these two.

Rosé grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom while Jennie followed.

“I’ll give you two time to warm up before I start recording,” Jennie smugly said.

“How generous,” Rosé sarcastically replied.

You felt a bit awkward with Jennie in the room, even though hours ago she had watched you give this gorgeous woman with the sexiest accent a huge facial in public.

“Just ignore her,” Rosé said as she brought you closer to the bed and wrapped her arms around your neck, planting her soft lips against yours, lips you missed feeling on your cock already. Rosé tasted sweet, and you wanted more as you engaged her lips again, your tongues dancing around as your hands wrapped around her slender waist.

You both carefully climbed the bed, with her petite body under yours you couldn’t help but want to uncover more of it, you needed to see every inch of it.

“Can I take this off?” you asked, gently tugging on the material of her shirt.

“Of course, daddy. That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Take it all off me.”

She smiled and you crashed your lips against hers again as you grabbed the hem of her shirt and hastily removed it from her body, tossing it away as fast as you could as you admired her bare torso and her small, but perky tits.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” you said as your mouth watered.

“Are you just going to stare?” she teased.

“I just might,“ you replied, not knowing where you wanted to start. You kissed her again, this time rougher, forgoing passion for lust as you sucked on her bottom lip as you wanted to devour every inch of this girl's body.

“Fuck, you really are sexy. You make me want to ruin you,” you growled, as you brought your lips to the side of her neck and licked up and down it before parking your lips against her sensitive skin, earning your first moan of the night.

“I won’t stop you, daddy.”

You kept your lips sucking away on her neck, hungrily eating up every bit of her sensitive warm flesh you found there with every desire to mark her. Sharing lustful stares, you slowly peeled yourself from her neck before moving down, kissing her collarbone, her chest, her breasts, and her tight stomach, falling completely in love with her body.

“I’m definitely going to ruin you.”

Rosé blushed as you moved your lips back to her chest, sucking on her nipples that had already hardened.

“Things are getting spicy now,” Jennie commented, as she readied Rosé’s phone, and prepared to play camerawoman.

“Just pretend like I'm not here.”

It was rather easy to forget about Jennie’s presence, given the infatuation you had already had with Rosé’s tight body as you continued sucking on her perky tits, biting on her nipples, and slurping on them as her cute whiny moans filled your ears.

Unlike your earlier shenanigans in the department store, you were going to take your time here, using your time freely to explore every inch and surface of Rosé, not leaving a part of her body without your lips touching it.

It didn’t take long for Rosé to melt at your touch as you kept a nipple in between your lips as a hand began travelling south. You slipped a hand in between her slender thighs, actually surprised with the fact that she still had underwear on as you pushed against her core and felt a piece of thin fabric impeding your progress.

Rosé gasped as you pushed two fingers against her underwear, pressing against her clothed pussy and you could feel an obvious wetness already. You withdrew your mouth from her tits rubbing circles against her clothed core and seeing the lust and desire in her pretty sparkling eyes.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Rosé said as she gave another desperate gasp. Exposing her weakness, you felt obliged to take advantage of it as you hiked up her tight red skirt and revealed the lavender pair of panties that almost matched the color of her hair, taking note of the very prominent wet spot front and center.

“You’re drenched, Miss Rosie,” taking advantage of the cute nickname for the first time, spreading her thighs wider and nudging your nose against the wet spot, taking in her intoxicating aroma and giving a lick across the damp spot that caused her breath to hitch and her hips to buck.

“Sensitive are we?” you asked teasingly, giving another short lick and then nothing, just staring at the anticipation in Rosé’s dazzling round eyes.

You barely knew this girl hours ago, and you still didn’t, but you knew you needed to turn her into a puddle, an absolute squirming mess. Maybe it was the fact that her friend Jennie was involved in this little romp, filming the reaction on her face that you felt obligated to up the ante.

Rosé’s thighs were surprisingly full considering her body type, plenty to work with as you began kissing up and down each thigh tenderly, planting a trail of kisses on her pale flushed skin as you felt the fabric of her panties becoming wetter by the moment.

“God, do you have to tease me so much, daddy?” She whined as you began to replace soft kisses with long delicate licks, tasting the warmth of her soft sensitive skin.

“Of course,” you said, responding with messier licks that turned into bites, wanting to mark every part of her body. If she was this needy now, you couldn’t wait to see how she reacted with your head in between her thighs.

This was too much fun really, making her squirm with every touch but you grew a bit hungry, with the only thing that could satisfy your appetite inches apart from your lips. Giving a delicate kiss to Rosé’s wet center that made her jerk, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her ruined panties, and with her lifting her ass up you slid them down her incredibly long and sexy legs, tossing them at Jennie who was not amused at your antics.

Words did describe how beautiful Rosé’s pussy looked. Absolutely perfect in every way, pink, shaved, and appetizing as could be as the soft flesh between her spread thighs was abundantly coated with her nectar that you were dying to have a taste.

“God, you look so delicious. You look good enough to eat,” you said, admiring the view her wet pink pussy gave, your mouth continuing to water with each second you stared between her legs.

“Then taste me, daddy,” she pleaded, but you weren’t going to make it easy for her. There wouldn’t be any fun in that as you began sucking on one of her thighs, running your hand up and down the other, and switching sides until she was falling apart.

“D-daddy, please,” she whined, as you sucked on her skin deeper, before removing your lips from her marked thighs and licking your lips at what you saw ready for you.

“Please what?”

“Please eat me,” she said, but you weren’t convinced, planting more kisses on her thighs and ultimately one on her pussy, blowing hot air aimed at her clit as her whole body jerked.

“F-fuck, daddy, p-lease.”

You quite enjoyed the control you held over her, wanting to give her just a sample of what was in store as you gave one slow, long lick up her drenched slit, hearing a loud needy moan as you tasted her for the first time.

“Like, this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy. More.”

“I didn’t hear a please. Daddy wants you to beg.”

“P-please, daddy. Please let me feel that tongue inside my pussy, please, please daddy.”

Her begging really turned you on. You didn’t know whether to make her continue or not, but you figured she had enough for the time being as you almost ripped her skirt off her petite body licked in between her folds slowly, gathering every bit of honey to taste on your tongue.

“Oh f-fuck, daddyyy…” she moaned with that ridiculously sexy accent, and you wanted to hear more and quickly grew tired of teasing, eating Rosé out like she was your last fucking meal. You explored her delicious pussy with your tongue, licking every inch of her cunt and lapping up her juices on your lips as you began to feel her soft thighs slowly closing around your face.

Feeling a warm thigh on either side caressing your face you looked up at Rosé as you devoured her pussy, seeing her mouth agape as you licked everywhere you could before taking her sensitive clit between your lips, taking a few swipes before bringing it into your mouth and sucking on it loudly.

“Oh fuuuck, daddy, you eat me so well, you really know how to use that fucking tongue,” she said, her thighs shaking around your head.

Rosé sure was something. All you knew about her was her name, that she looked amazing naked and she gave amazing head, and also both her and her friend really liked to have a lot of sex. You also knew she was the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, her taste unforgettable and you wanted it lingering on your tongue forever.

“You taste so fucking good,” you growled out as you continued to feast on her sensitive pussy, burying your face between her thighs as you felt her small hands grabbing onto your head and pulling on your hair as you lapped at her leaking hole, trying to get more of her juices into your mouth.

The more you ate her out the more you wanted her, feeling her dripping cunt smearing all over your face, every lick inside her pussy earning a cute whiny moan, and the way you could feel her body reacting to your touch you could tell she was close.

You kept your lips surrounding her clit, running your hands all over her body while you brought two fingers inside her wet hole and curled them, hitting her spot and making her lose it. Her back arched as you furiously rocked your fingers inside her tight cunt, trying to make her hit her peak as fast as possible.

“D-daddy, p-please don’t stop, I’m almost there,” she whimpered, and you did everything in your power to bring her there. Rubbing at her core and sloppily slurping on her clit, feeling the warm thighs around your head vibrating in time with your fingers, and soon after Rosé came.

Her juices gushed into your mouth and you felt the whole bed shaking in response to her climax. Keeping your fingers buried in her leaking cunt and your lips wrapped tightly on her swollen clit, her whole body turned to jelly and rendering herself out of breath.

Jennie kept the camera focused on her o-face, getting a closeup view of the intense orgasm that had just run its course through her body.

“G-god, you’re amazing,“ Rosé breathlessly said as you kissed up her body and brought your fingers into her mouth. Without even asking, she sucked on them, tasting her own juices and needily slurped on them, cleaning them off.

Rosé didn’t stop, even after the taste of herself no longer lingered on your fingers, her lips and tongue continued slurping away and couldn’t get enough, revealing one of her weaknesses to you.

“You really are such a needy little slut,” Jennie said, keeping Rosé's glazed over eyes in perfect frame.

“I wanna taste your cock again, daddy,” Rosé said, cutely pouting, wanting the same thing as you flipped positions. She quickly stripped your shirt off and slipped her delicate hand inside your shorts and began stroking your cock.

You continued to intoxicate yourself with the taste of Rosé’s lips as her small hand pumped you up and down, finding that slow rhythm that built you up, leaving you wanting more.

“Then suck my cock,” you demanded, and her eyes beamed at your command, instantly wanting to obey.

“I’ll do more than that, daddy,” she seductively said as your pants and boxers were removed in a flash, matching her state of undress as her eyes admired your cock, hard as could be.

Rosé didn’t waste time diving into your cock, freely stroking it as her naked body laid down flat on her stomach and spread your legs, licking up and down hungrily all over your shaft and leaving a sheen of saliva all over.

Her attention changed as Rosé brought her mouth to your balls, kissing each one tenderly before she brought them into her mouth individually, licking and sucking each tenderly as she stroked your cock, causing you to moan even louder.

“You must really like his cock, Rosie. Not that I blame you,” Jennie said as she aimed the phone carefully to make sure she didn’t miss a single section of the action.

“I do. I love daddy's cock,” Rosé said as she nudged her nose against your balls and sucked even more before she covered your shaft in a plethora of kisses from base to tip, making sure not to miss a spot untouched by her beautiful soft lips.

“Daddy…” Rosé said, pausing afterward. “I want you to fuck my throat.”

The erotic words you had just heard was anything but surprising, yet you wanted to hear her repeat it. Not just because you wanted to hear her confirming what she wanted, because you wanted just to hear it again.

“What was that?”

With her hands stroking your cock Rosé repeated her request. “Fuck my throat, daddy.”

Rosé’s lips pulled into a needy smile as you took your cock from her and took control, rubbing your tip all over her soft lips, smearing your leaking precum all over her sinful mouth.

“Slap my pretty face with that fucking cock, daddy.”

Rosé had said a lot of filthy things that day, but this had to be one of your favorites. With your cock rock fucking hard, you slapped her cute face several times, your tip striking her cheeks and leaving more precum as you heard her pretty moans after each soft impact.

Desperately needing more out of Rosé’s mouth, you pushed half of your shaft back in her mouth, roughly grabbing the back of her head and shoved her all the way down your base as you began to fuck her warm pretty mouth.

You picked up speed right away and harshly rammed your cock down Rosé’s throat, feeling it tightening as you hit the back of it and instantly causing a series of gags.

Rosé’s eyes looked straight at you as she maintained perfect eye contact, slurping and gagging on every inch of your shaft as you used her for your own pleasure, fucking her mouth like a toy and causing your shaft to be drenched with her saliva in a matter of seconds.

“Choke on that fucking dick,” Jennie said as you increased your speed, your slippery cock moving in and out of her open mouth with ease, her eyes beginning to water as her drool smeared all over her lips and chin.

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby,” you moaned after a series of harsher thrusts, your balls slapping against her pretty face. Soon the sounds of Rosé gagging on your cock matched your rhythm, and you gave in to your animalistic desires as you used both hands and repeatedly drove every inch of your needy cock down her messy warm mouth.

“Such a messy little slut aren’t you, Rosie? You’re really taking that cock well.” Jennie said.

You continued to moan as you fucked Rosé’s pretty drool-covered face, the look in her eyes not only encouraging you to continue but letting you know that she was getting off on this just as much as you were.

With your hands running through her hair you pulled her all the way down and held her all the way against your base, debating on whether you wanted to unload deep down her throat but opting to keep her held there with her throat stuffed with every inch, earning more sinful gags as you furiously fucked her throat mercilessly.

Holding her down again and again, you lengthened the time pressing her face against your crotch, not letting go until Rosé tapped on your thigh repeatedly and you weakened your grip slowly and released her.

Rosé gradually withdrew your cock from her mouth and smiled widely as she gasped for air, rubbing your cock all over her already messy face.

“Did that feel good, daddy?”

"It felt amazing."

“Good, I want you to feel even better. Come fuck me, daddy," she said with a lustful smile.

“How do you want it, baby?”

“Just like this,” Rosé said as she turned around and faced the foot of the bed, giving Jennie the perfect angle and getting onto her hands and knees as she looked back with desire in her eyes, shaking her cute little ass.

You gathered yourself as you positioned behind her naked bent over body, running your hands all over her and giving her ass a quick slap, hearing her gasp loudly.

"Fuck me, daddy," she whined and you weren't going to keep her waiting as you rubbed your tip against her folds, feeling her wetness spreading all over your cock.

"You're so wet, baby," you said as you pushed against her entrance, feeling her tightness and warmth inviting you inside.

"Put it in, daddy. Don't you dare be gentle."

Holding onto one of her hips, you slowly pushed inside Rosé and groaned as you entered her, feeling her intense tightness and warmth squeezing your cock.

"Fuck, you're tight," you moaned as you pushed deeper, more wetness surrounding your cock as Rosé scrambled to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

"Oh f-fuck, fill me with cock, daddy."

With one more thrust you, bottomed her out and fully parted her hot wet flesh, grabbing both hips tightly and began fucking her from behind without hesitation, earning several gasps and moans.

"Stretch her out with that fucking dick," Jennie hissed as you built up a rhythm, earning loud moans from Rosé as you pumped in and out of her tight dripping cunt.

"Oh fuck, daddy!"

You quickly upped the pace, giving long deep strokes inside Rose's tight wet pussy, her dripping pink lips gripping your cock with every full thrust.

"God, you're so fucking tight, baby," you said as you flattened your palm and struck her tight ass, rippling the flesh as she shrieked in response.

"She is, isn't she? Even after all the cocks she's had inside her," Jennie smirked.

Rosé ignored her, opting instead of gaining more pleasure as she pushed her hips against you, wanting to take more of your cock as possible.

"Pound me, daddy," she begged as you began slamming your cock deep inside her tight cunt, rocking the bed with every thrust.

"Oh god yes," she moaned, as your hips smacked against her petite frame, giving harsher and faster thrusts as the sounds of hot flesh slapping against hot flesh filled the room.

Running your hands all over Rose's sexy tight body you felt the sweat misting over her soft skin as you pounded into her, listening to every cute moan and whimper that came out of her lips.

"More, daddy. I need more, please," Rosé begged, her cheeks smacking as you drove your cock harshly inside her, juices leaking down her thighs and dripping onto your shaft and balls.

Rosé’s hot wet flesh felt so heavenly wrapped around your shaft as you leaned forward and wrapped your fingers around the short ponytail she still had equipped, pulling back on it as you used even more force to fuck her, causing the bed to creak violently.

You immediately felt her walls clenching tighter as you kept a tight grip on her hair, giving her ass several smacks as it jiggled each time deliciously with every impact.

“Slap my fucking ass, daddy. Harder.”

You did as asked as you began to up your pace even more, raising your palm and giving repeated spanks, squeezing her tender flesh at the end of your impact to add extra oomph until both of her delicious cheeks were painted bright red with your handprints, feeling her walls tightening and pulsating each time.

“You like taking this cock like a good little slut?” you asked, keeping a handful of her pretty hair as you continued to spank her ass, giving her the deepest thrusts you could summon.

“Oh-oh fuck, yes I do, daddy! Don’t stop fucking me!”

Nothing could stop you from drilling into her tight body, using her tight wet cunt as if it was just a toy for you to fuck. Every thrust into Rosé felt wetter and tighter, her moans increasing in length and volume to confirm her satisfaction. She mirrored your thrusts, continuing to push backward and timing the movement of her body as she held onto the bed for dear life, trying to get your cock as deep as possible in her.

You gave her sore red cheeks a break, keeping the harsh grip on her ponytail as you felt sweat dripping off your forehead, focusing only on the wetness and warmth of Rosé’s pussy as you gave her everything you had, her tight walls pulsating in response.

“Oh fuck, daddy, I’m going to cum!”

Rosé’s words made you fuck her as fast as you could, slamming her tight cunt and filling her with cock as her walls tightened even more, almost painfully so.

“Cum for me, baby. All over my fucking cock.”

Looking straight into the camera Rosé moaned and came on command as you felt even more wetness as you harshly pumped inside her pussy, losing control as she gushed all over your cock.

Your drenched cock threatened to slip out but the warm tightness of her hole kept you buried inside her as her body shook in response, her juices spilling liberally out of her warm hole and staining her thighs, your cock and the bedsheets underneath that were already a beautiful mess.

You fucked her straight through her orgasm, abruptly letting go of her hair as she fell forward and gasped for air as she tried to recover her senses and stabilize her tired breathing.

“You must be getting close, daddy,” Rosé weakly said.

“I am, baby, but I can fuck you all night.”

You withdrew out of her tight pussy, the act of pulling out almost made her climax again. Using her hips you turned her over as she laid onto her back and spread her legs for you, showing just how wet she was and played with her pretty pussy.

Rosé was more than ready to continue, but you wanted to earn it and rubbed your cock through her slippery pink lips, her warm flesh even wetter after her climax. You smirked and slapped her pussy with your hard shaft, the wet sounds of her flesh evident.

"Daddy…" she whined.

"Want it?" you asked, teasing penetration by nudging your cock against her entrance several times but withdrawing at the final moment.

“Y-yes, daddy. I need your cock inside me again."

“Then beg for it. Beg for it like a good little slut."

“Please fuck me, daddy. Shove your big hard cock in my tight cunt and stretch my pretty little hole, please, daddy, fuck me like the needy slut I am daddy, please.“

You loved hearing her beg as much as she loved begging and you were eager to reward Rosé for her efforts. Not wanting just to fuck her in a simple position, you opted for something different as you grabbed her legs up and lifted them in the air, bending her knees.

Rosé looked lustfully into your eyes, hugging the back of her knees to assist and keep her legs in the air, allowing you to focus on her dripping cunt.

"I'm going to enjoy ruining you, baby," you said and slid every inch inside Rosé who gasped in surprise, throwing her head back as you felt her pussy clenching around your shaft.

Rosé didn't have a chance to adjust to your cock as you placed a palm on each of her thighs and started thrusting, immediately bottoming her out as you began fucking her balls deep at a rapid pace.

The addicting squeeze her pussy gave drove you crazy as you used her body, only concerned with how good you felt.

"Fuck, you’re such a tight little slut, Rosie," you growled, pounding her deep and stretching her tight walls out as wide as you could.

Every thrust was smooth and pleasurable as could be, aided by the intense wetness of her slick-filled walls and driving your cock deep as you could possibly go.

"Oh fuck, daddy! Don't stop! Please don't stop fucking me like this, use my pussy for your own pleasure!"

"Fuck this cheap little whore so hard she can't walk for a week," Jennie spoke up.

"Is that what you want, baby?" you asked. Rosé nodded needily, unlocking more of your animalistic urges.

"Yes! Pound my tight slutty pussy, daddy. I'm just a pretty little fucktoy for you to use and ruin!"

"That's all you are, isn't it? Just a cute little cum dump for daddy?"

"Yes, daddy! I'm nothing but a hole for you to empty your load. Please keep fucking me, daddy!

The vulgarity spilling out of Rosé's naughty mouth heightened your arousal as you gave more aggressive thrusts, pistoning your hips and keeping the rhythm harsh enough as the flesh of your body loudly smacked against her own.

"So fucking wet, baby. Am I turning you on that much?"

"Y-yes, daddy! You're fucking me so deep, I love it. Don't stop until your cum is inside me!"

Every stroke inside Rosé felt better than the last, her pussy felt so fucking heavenly, so hot, tight, and wet around your shaft that you couldn't see yourself lasting that much longer.

"I love fucking you so much, baby. Your pussy feels so fucking good, I might cum soon."

"Please do, daddy! Fill your little slut's pussy with all of your cum!"

You didn't dare stray from your position, giving your all and continuing to grasp Rosé's warm thighs and slamming so harshly into her cunt you were worried her bed might break.

"Take that fucking cock. Take all of it you whore!" you hissed. It wouldn't be much longer now.

You watched the lust and need in her eyes, savoring the way her wet tight walls felt as you drilled her cunt, giving the deepest thrusts you could muster and felt your body tensing up.

With sweat liberally dripping down your forehead you used up all your leftover stamina and gave Rosé your final thrusts, fucking her as hard and deep as possible at a breakneck pace with her pussy squeezing your cock harshly and urging your release.

"Rosie I'm-"

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, groaning and grunting loudly as you exploded, pumping Rosé full of your thick creamy load deep inside her cunt, finding relief as you emptied everything into her body.

You kept thrusting until her pussy had milked your cock completely dry, filling her hole to the brim and watching the lust overtaking her features.

"Daddy...it feels so warm and thick…" Rosé said, her expression equal parts exhaustion and satisfaction.

Resting inside Rosé you didn't want to ever leave the comforting warmth of her pussy, but also wanted to see the load you had just deposited, catching your breath.

Eventually, you slowly pulled out an inch at a time as Jennie prepared to capture it all.

The moment your cock withdrew from her pussy your cum began leaking out as Jennie found the perfect angle to capture the dripping creampie slowly leaking from her freshly fucked pussy.

"Fuck, Rosie, you made him cum a lot."

Rosé tiredly smiled, both at you and the camera.

"Daddy must really like fucking me."

"I do, fuck I really do," you said, exhausted

"Hold this?" Jennie asked, handing you her phone. You watched through the phone screen as Jennie positioned her face between Rosé's thighs, hungrily sucking your cum out of her Rose's cunt, cleaning up her creamy pussy.

"Hey, you slut! That's my load," Rosé complained in between moans.

"Not anymore," Jennie smiled, continuing to give her pussy repeated licks to collect your cum on her tongue before swallowing it all down.

Rosé climbed off the bed and dropped to her knees, sucking your entire length clean. She didn't want to let Jennie get a chance to get the drop on her, licking every drop.

"Thank you," Jennie said as she retrieved Rose's phone from you, aiming the camera one final time at an exhausted Rosé.

“Wave to the camera, Rosie.”

“Thank you, daddy, for giving me such a good pounding, “ Rosé said as she waved cutely, and Jennie ended the recording.

“Ok, hurry and send him a copy. His number is in there already," Rosé said.

“But which daddy is he saved under?” Jennie teased.

“I only have one you whore."

“For now. There he is.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Shit, I-”

“What?” Rosé asked.

“I might have just sent it to everyone-”

"You better be fucking kidding-”

Jennie smiled. “Of course I am. I only sent it to him, Jisoo, and Lisa.”

“You what?!”

“It’s not like they haven’t seen you getting fucked before. You want them to miss out on the fun?"

Rosé huffed. “Fine, whatever. At least ask me next time, bitch.”

“Fine, you big baby.”

Rosé turned her attention to you. “You’re not tired yet, are you, daddy?” she asked, gripping your still rigid cock and giving slow delicate strokes.

“You’re still hard?” Rosé asked, surprised.

“Guess you’re just that hot, baby.”

“Well, I’m glad, daddy. Because you’re not done with me. I could use a nice relaxing shower. Join me?”

“I’d love to.”

Rosé smiled and led you by your cock to the bathroom.

“You too Jennie. This camera is waterproof, you know? This’ll be the perfect time to test it.”

"Fine, but I'm not getting left out this time."

#blackpink smut #kpop smut #rose #blackpink #male reader #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #rose smut

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rubykgrant · 3 years

Text

RVB characters, all going to a large store together-

Church; initially tries to keep the group together, and then gives up. He eventually gathers up all the stuff he wants to buy, wanders over to where the lawn furniture is on display, and takes a nap on one of those couch swings

Tucker; stares at those weird mannequins that have highly-detailed bodies but no heads for some reason until it freaks him out... then he goes and tries to flirt at whatever indoor mini-restaurant the store has (before he leaves, he heads over to the toys and gets something cool for Junior)

Caboose; goes to the small pet store and visits every single fish tank, bird cage, and enclosure for rodents and reptiles. He names each of them

Kai; walks through the clothes and jewelry, touching everything and saying “this is cute”. She gathers up dozens of things to go try on, including out-of-season prom dresses just for the heck of it (and she picks the biggest gown to wear out of the store)

Wash; he just wants to get the grocery shopping out of the way like a normal person, but also gets distracted by the magazine racks, and starts reading something while standing there with an empty cart

Tex; trying on sunglasses and looking for shoes that won’t wear out any time soon. Eventually, she discovers the shirts that have all kinds of smart-mouth sarcastic things printed on them, and she wants them ALL

Carolina; mostly just wanders around, waiting for everybody else to get done with their shenanigans... and then she noticed there is a playable demo-game set up in the electronics department, and it just happens to be a new version of her favorite game as a kid, so she HAS to play it (there is a line of little kids behind her, complaining that her turn is over)

Sarge; decided all the tools were in the wrong spot, so he’s rearranging everything in the hardware department (the employees are afraid to stop him)

Simmons; slowly working his way through all the movies and books on display, he wants to see EVERYTHING that is here, so he can decide what to get

Grif; has a cart full of snacks, and eventually joins Church for a nap on the couch swing. Simmons knows this is where Grif always ends up, so he comes along later too, explaining in deep detail why he picked out such-and-such

Donut; huffing all the scented candles

Doc; he goes out to the little gardening area to look at various plants and maybe get some new flowers or vegetables (at some point, O’Malley makes some people think a huge plant is talking to them like this is Little Shop Of Horrors, and they need to feed it blood)

Lopez; walking around looking for some decent motor oil, and later starts checking out tons of tiny decorative magnets (he has a whole collection going). He sticks the ones he wants to buy on himself

Locus; trying very hard to be a Normal Person, and not just run away or hide in the restroom... he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, until he finds the music section and discovers you can listen to certain songs before you buy anything, and now he’s excited to find a lot of new releases of some of his favorite songs (back when he had a regular life)

#red vs blue

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cxptain-carol · 4 years

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𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 | 𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

◬ summary: you find yourself on your own in the desert for the first time and that’s when you find him. he’s cold and concentrated, and the last thing you want is to stick with him. but he might just be your only hope of surviving.

◬ pairing: kageyama tobio x reader

◬ word count: 1.1k

◬ warnings: kidnapping, sibling in danger, guns, knives, and zombies of course

◬ genre: angst, suspense/thriller

◬ gender-neutral and racially inclusive reader

◬ zombie apocalypse!au

◬ a/n: basically i wrote this weeks ago and decided i might as well post it! i was planning on making it a somewhat lengthy fic (i have another chapter written rn) so there’s a whole backstory for the reader and whatnot. i may or may not continue writing this but i figured it can’t hurt to post just this first part. this is probably ooc but honestly i’m just using kageyama as a face & a name for this story lol

Dust swirled in the air around you as you looked for any sign of movement through the grimy glass door. The contents of the mall were dark and disfigured from what you could see, like ghosts lit only by patches of the sky’s yellow light as it seeped in through the dirty skylights.

You held your breath and pushed open the door, never taking your eyes off of the room as you stepped inside. It was cooler in here and eerily quiet. Your thick black boots padded lightly on the worn carpet in tentative steps.

It hadn’t always been like this.

When the apocalypse came, roughly three months ago, you were never alone. Your sister had been with you the entire time and you survived by protecting each other, forming strategies, and refusing to give up even though you both had been separated from everyone else you loved along the way.

You two had been going through one of the last stocked grocery stores in your area when you made your first mistake. It had been many days since you’d had a run-in with any of the undead so you thought nothing of letting your guard down a bit.

You were ambushed by them, and in your confusion, you were separated from your sister for the first time. You wouldn’t dare scream for her but you shot every last zombie in the vicinity before frantically searching each inch of the grocery store and the entire town around it. You didn’t find her.

That was last week.

You still refused to give up hope, though. There was no doubt in your mind that she wasn’t dead and you were thankful for that, but all that was left to do was keep yourself alive and hope she would too. It’s not like you weren’t at all terrified, however. Maybe you two kept each other safe but deep down you knew that she was the one protecting you. Now that you were on your own, you kept yourself armed at all times and barely slept, just to make sure you couldn’t be sneaked up on. Despite your composure on the outside, you couldn’t hide that you felt much weaker now.

Quiet sounds echoed off the glass in the mall’s windows and you approached a dry fountain in the center of a circle of dust-caked wooden benches. A few coins lay flat against the tiled surface and you picked them up, tucking them into your pocket without taking a hand off of the knife in your belt.

On the wall opposite you sat the entrance to what looked like a department store. The mannequins’ clothes had already been ripped off of them and a few disconnected heads lay on the floor of the display. There was a faded poster on the wall beside the store and you walked over to get a closer look.

The two little girls in the picture were holding hands in a bright green field. You ignored the text on the bottom half of the poster and stared at the two girls in matching yellow dresses, their laughter frozen on their faces.

Clink.

You pulled your knife completely out and turned your head. Obviously, you weren’t as alone as you thought.

Trying not to lose the source of the noise, you followed it slowly, slinking in the shadows before you stopped and hid behind a wall. You knew it was right there: on the other side of the corner. You wouldn’t dare peek but you weren’t about to let this one go, not when you were so ready to kill another one of those wretched creatures.

With your shiny knife in hand, you took one step towards the corner before you felt a tug on the back of your jacket.

You didn’t even get a moment to see who it was before you found yourself trapped in a pair of strong arms and your mouth was covered tightly by a firm hand.

“Don’t move. There’s more of them than you think.”

So it was a guy.

He had leaned down and whispered so softly you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if his lips weren’t so close to your ear. You were breathing heavily and your heart hammered in your chest, but you were still being muffled by his hand.

He kept you in a death grip, your back pressed flush against him—the heat radiating off of him and that fact that you hadn’t been this close to a human for days was making your head spin. You barely cared that he stopped you from killing what you thought would only be one zombie. You had gone so long without warmth that you already trusted him.

“Stay here,” he whispered, again in that almost-silent voice. It was deeper, you noticed, but maybe you hadn’t paid too much attention to his voice when he first pulled you into his arms.

He let go of you and your face suddenly felt cold at the absence of his hand. You quickly pressed yourself against the wall and tried to get a good look at him despite the minimal light. He was taller than you, dark-haired and holding a gun in his right hand. You could barely see his face but you just guessed that he wasn’t very handsome; he wore a scowl as he turned away from you and stepped out from behind the wall.

The unmistakable groans of the horde sounded for only a moment before he was finished firing. You heard five gunshots and a few more thuds before he kicked aside one of their limp arms and brushed past you, making his way towards the door. Still a bit shocked, you weren’t following him and after he reached a few paces in front of you, he stopped in his tracks and turned around.

He was in a patch of golden light now and you could finally see him well. He was in head-to-toe black and he had a bag swung over his left shoulder. He was slightly tanned from what you assumed was the sun that sweltered outside and his arms bore blood and scars. But you were drawn to his face, his dark hair falling into his eyes and the small cuts on his cheek and bottom lip. You had guessed completely wrong: he was in fact good-looking and you froze on the spot as you realized that he had pretty much just saved your ass. But he didn’t look at all pleased.

“Hey, you,” he said, breaking your concentration. “Are you coming or what?”

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myluciferiscody · 4 years

Text

Dancing With a Stranger P.2

@iits-mikha asked: n a recent interview they asked Cody if he could have the opportunity to play another character he would had chosen to be the Countess, So my request is this: an AU where old!Michael where he’s not the antichrist but is the owner of the Hotel Cortez, please!!

pairing: Older!Michael x Reader

word count: 5,055

warnings: au!, language, seductive-boi, unprotected sex, oral (female and male receiving), other smutty goodness. idk how i thought i’d keep this smut free, yikes. i hardly write smut so i hope it’s not too terrible, enjoy.

*not entirely proof-read*

part 1

The next few days were a blur.

You and Winter spent the days at the park, getting scared and meeting your favorite characters. You changed your phone wallpaper to a picture of you and Beetlejuice, your cheesy grin making you flinch every time you unlocked your phone. Yet, you were living your best life, and it was a much-needed break from reality.

As the hours of screams and thrill rides went by, Michael Langdon slowly slipped in the back of your mind.

It wasn't until there was a knock on your hotel door bright in early on Halloween. Winter groaned from beside you, her small body cuddling into yours when you tried to leave.

"It's fucking cold, stop," Winter moaned.

"Someone is here, Winter," you groaned, throwing the covers from your body when they knocked again. Your M&M socks were slipping off your feet as you opened the door, revealing Iris.

"Good morning!" she gushed, her voice way too peppy for this time of day. You blinked at her, knowing you looked like hell with your band t-shirt, dull sweats, and orange socks.

"Is everything alright?" you immediately asked, crossing your arms over your chest. It really is cold in here. You could feel your nipples getting hard, and you tried to hide your laugh.

"Mr. Langdon asked me to drop this off," she said, shoving a white envelope in your direction. You took it, feeling the thickness and frowning. "He says it's a treat."

"What?-"

"Have a good day!" she insisted, before leaving you standing in the doorway.

You stood there with a comical look on your face, before quietly shutting the door and locking it. Winter had since sat up, her brown eyes frowning at you as you carefully opened the envelope.

A white slip of paper caught your eye first, before the thick wad of cash behind it. You gasped, pulling it out altogether.

"HOLY SHIT!" Winter said, shoving the blankets off her before scrambling to stand beside you. You counted the money; there was quickly a few thousand in your hands.

"I KNOW-" you gasped. You had never seen this much money in your life, at least in person. "He left a note..."

"Read it," Winter urged, taking the money and feeling it up, "This is hot in a really bizarre way."

Ms. l/n,

Please take this offering to buy yourself some new clothes, preferably for dinner tonight. I took the liberty of ordering food from a nearby restaurant. I do not believe you'd find the menu here satisfactory, trust me.

Meet me at the penthouse at 8 PM sharp. This is very important, not a minute before or less. You may find some less than impressive guests if you do.

Oh, I almost forgot - you keep what you buy. Spend it wisely.

Sincerely,

M.L

You sat on the edge of the bed as Winter read the note to herself. Your jaw was almost to the floor as you had forgotten about your plans for tonight. It was fun the other night when you met him, but now you were nervous.

"This is amazing," Winter gasped excitedly. "But wait, why do you look like that?" she asked.

"How in the hell am I supposed to have dinner with him tonight? He's so-"

"Weirdly arousing and complex?" Winter grinned, mocking Liz's words from the other night. "Girl, I'll gladly take your place if you're going to chicken out, who in their right mind would do this for you back home?"

You stuffed everything back into the envelope before you both settled back into bed. "Maybe that means he is crazy, and I'm doing myself a favor," you mumbled.

"First off, he is hot. Second, it's just dinner, if he is willing to pay for you to get a new dress, well..." Winter pulled the covers up to her nose, "Maybe that means he is a keeper, y/n,"

You both laid there in silence before you caught up on sleep. You woke up again closer to ten, and you stayed under the covers on your phone while Winter took a shower first. You scrolled through Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok, seeking out the ones that reminded you most of Vine.

You tried to distract yourself from the anxiety bubbling in your belly. Michael Langdon intimidated you; everything about him seemed so reserved and poised. From the way he spoke, to how he walked, and you had to admit, his wardrobe was on-point.

"I'll just get drunk before I go up there." you joked to yourself as you passed the fifth video of spoiled New Yorkers seeing Beetlejuice for the eightieth time.

Since you and Winter weren't familiar with the higher-ups in the fashion department, you did a lot of Googling as you walked down the streets of Los Angeles. The Hotel Cortez felt like an icebox compared to the weather out here. Most of the stores that you passed or glanced through seemed to cater specifically to prom dresses and other school formals.

You stopped into a particular store that seemed too over budget. Winter couldn't help but gush at their selection of bridal gowns in the back of the store, and as you pulled her away, your mouth even watered at the beautiful dresses in front of you.

"I'm not getting married, Winter," you snorted as you dragged her back into the streets.

You both stopped a Starbucks, sitting down and resting as you chug your drink. "I'm about to give up," you sighed.

"We've only been out for- two hours," Winter replied sheepishly. "Come on, you have three-grand in your pockets, we'll find something."

"Everything here is kind of weird," you frowned, thinking of the four-thousand dollar dress you saw that barely covered the crotch of the mannequin wearing it. "Plus, who can afford to spend four-grand on a dress?"

"Think about it this way," Winter pointed at you, "Michael saw you wearing clothes from Forever 21. Maybe he figured you liked the simple things,"

You know how to stretch a buck when your paychecks were smaller than usual. Michael did say buy something for tonight, but...

"How will I bring all of the clothes back home?" you asked.

"We'll worry about that later, and let's get the fuck out of here, I can barely hear myself think."

It was more comfortable for you to go into stores you were more familiar with. You bought new jeans, new shirts, and dresses to wear once the weather warmed up again back home.

By the time you were finished, you still had about $2,400 in your wallet. You let Winter pick out some things too. It made you feel bad about going on a shopping spree without her.

"I wonder if this is what it feels like to have a sugar daddy!" Winter all but yelled in the sea of people passing you in the street. You threw your head back and laughed.

"I guess we need to find ourselves one," you joked.

"Okay, but Michael, I mean- The Count," Winter rolled her eyes, "Is totally sugar daddy material, is he not?"

"Is he even old enough? He's like thirty-four, when I think of them, I imagine someone in their sixties or something," you stated.

"He's older, and he gives you money for nice things, so I'd say he most certainly qualifies," Winter said, continuing to talk when a mannequin caught your eye.

You stopped dead in your tracks, not caring when the person behind you cursed when he bumped into you. Winter finally realized you weren't by her side, waltzing over with a confused look on her face.

The red cocktail dress stared back at you, the silk taffeta material almost glowing under the light above it. The neckline plunged, leaving little to the imagination. You didn't care, though.

"Do you see a price tag?" you asked.

"I think that's it-" Winter said, leaning in closer, "-holy shiiii-"

The store owner must have caught you two gawking, because the door swung open, revealing a small man with a shaved head beaming at the two of you. "Are you ladies enjoying the view?" he joked.

"Yes, I love this dress," you said, pointing at it. He seemed pleased as he looked you up and down.

"I think this calls for a fitting! My name is Ted, come on in," he said.

Needless to say, spending 2,300 on a dress was strangely rewarding.

You got into the elevator at 7:57.

It slowly rose to the top, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You had many floors to go, and you looked at yourself in the mirrored wall.

Winter had pinned your hair back, before coloring your eyes and lips in a similar shade of red to your dress. You admired your boobs, hoping he wouldn't be too put off by them. You never really dressed like this; hoodies and sweaters were some of your favorites. It felt good to show off your body; you felt beautiful. Like you accepted yourself for who you were, even if it was over by the end of the night.

You ran a hand along your belly, sighing deeply as you felt like you were going to vomit.

it's just dinner, you'll be fine.

The elevator slowly came to a stop, the doors slowly sliding open. You looked around, seeing you were already inside of his place. You could hear gentle music playing in the background; you hid your smile when you heard Lady Gaga singing.

"Hello?" You called out, your voice meek. When you stepped out, you realized how much warmer this room was compared to the rest of the hotel. If it were any warmer, you'd probably think you were about to enter the deepest pits of Hell.

"Ms. l/n, how lovely to see you,"

You jumped, looking to see Langdon slowly making his way to you, his hands behind his back. In perfect pose, like always. The view behind him told you he just came from his bedroom.

You were at a loss for words, much to his amusement.

"Interesting..." he said as he observed you with a slight tilt to his head. "I admire your choice of color, the red compliments your eyes," Michael said.

"Thank you, uhh-"

"You can call me Michael," he said firmly. "I hope you used my offering wisely, I'd hate to think all that went to waste."

His blue eyes bore holes into your skull as you instinctively went to push your hair behind your ear until remembered it was pinned back. You dropped your hand with a shy grin. "It was nice, thank you."

Michael continued to stare at you like he couldn't seem to figure you out. You watched as his perfect brow twitched as if he were hiding his true expression from you. You swallowed, turning to admire the rest of his space. Like the lobby, red seemed to be a favorite in his repertoire.

Almost like a ghost, you could feel his presence directly behind you. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of his expensive dinner jacket brush against your bare arm. A small glass of wine. You took it from him, bringing it to your nose where you gently inhaled.

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he watched your childish action. He had a glass in his own hand, but it definitely wasn't wine.

"Iris is bringing dinner at 8:30," he explained, watching your eyes flutter as you took a sip. It tasted terrific, you wondered where it was from. But you never asked. "Sit, y/n," Michael pointed to the expansive couch behind you.

You chose a cushion, Michael sinking into one just a bit farther down. You found yourself taking bigger sips of wine; it was almost addictive, the taste. Michael brought his glass to his lips, draining it quickly, before he set it down, his tongue slowly licking along his lip. You stared at it.

"y/n," he sighed. You loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. Michael suddenly smirked, his eyes slowly meeting yours. "Tell me about yourself."

You cleared your throat. You always found this to be awkward; what was really interesting about your life compared to his? Yet, you told him a little about your life back home. Your job, your education, your friendship with Winter, and how important she was to you.

Michael didn't say a word the entire time. He watched you intently, almost like he was entranced by you. Your voice, your past, your hopes, and dreams. It brought you comfort; you felt like someone was listening to you out of pure interest, and not to be kind.

"I think that's enough about me," you said awkwardly. Once again, his eyes crinkled with amusement. "It's your turn."

Almost as if on cue, the elevator slid open. Iris and Liz stepped out, pushing a large tray of food. Michael immediately stood up, his eyes piercing through you as you slowly did the same.

"Dinner is served, my beauties," Liz said excitedly, pushing the cart towards the two of you. Michael rolled his eyes, but you could see the playfulness in his actions.

"Thank you, Liz. Iris." He said, looking at her like she had all the answers in the world. Iris shrugged, waving him off as they set the table for you two.

You looked at your empty glass, before looking up at Michael, "Michael-"

"Of course, y/n," he said. He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours. He was a little cold to the touch.

Michael got you some more wine as you pondered how he could have possibly known what you were about to ask.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Iris asked as Liz wheeled the cart back to the elevator, waiting patiently.

"Not at all, I will call when we're finished," Michael said, handing you back the glass.

Iris nodded, turning, and meeting Liz. Before the elevator doors shut, Liz winked at you.

Without a word, Michael walked to a chair, gesturing for you to sit. You walked over and took a seat as he gently pushed you in. Michael placed a hand on your shoulder, his rings softly digging into your skin. There was something erotic about the way he moved his hands, so fluid and sexual.

"You seem tense, y/n," he mocked, and you could imagine the smirk on his lips. You shook your head, pressing your thighs together as you tried to forget the handsome man standing behind you.

"I'm just hungry," you said lamely. You felt his fingers gently curl into you before releasing.

"As you should be." He said before his hands left you. Michael walked around the table, sitting across from you. The distance between you was small, you could nudge his leg with your toes.

Michael's glass was full, as he watched you expectantly. The food smelled delicious, your belly softly rumbling as you glanced at him.

"Don't wait for me, precious," Michael said, pressing his fingers together. Your cheeks slightly burned at the nickname, before slowly picking up your silverware.

After a few bites, Michael finally started to eat. You remained mostly silent, enjoying the food. Your foot gently bobbed along to the music.

can you light the fire

i need somebody who can take control

"You never told me about your life," you pointed out. Michael glanced at you, taking a sip of his drink, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"I told you how old I am." He smirked.

"Come on, Michael. I spilled my whole life story to you, now it's your turn." You glared at him.

"Very well," he said. "I was born in December of 1985. My parents were in the process of getting divorced. I had a twin, but he was stillborn," Michael said. His tone hardly wavered, neither did the look in his eyes. He seemed almost content. "My mother was devastated, she blamed me for years for his death. I was too strong, I overshadowed my brother, and he never stood a chance."

You had stopped eating, wondering if you should have even asked in the first place. "Michael..."

"I like honesty, y/n," Michael stated. He looked directly in your eyes, "Do you disagree?"

You slowly shook your head. "No..."

"Great." He ran a finger along the rim of his glass, the diamonds on his rings shining from the light. "She killed herself when I was ten. My father couldn't afford to raise me on his own, so we moved here. That's when I met Iris. She became my second mother, took me in like I was her own. Eventually, my dad abandoned me without a word of warning. He died two years ago under mysterious circumstances." Michael said coldly.

You felt a pang in your chest, and you instinctively raised a hand to your eyes to make sure you weren't crying. Michael stared at his plate, his eyes forming into slits.

"After the original owner died, I took over. I made some investments, great ones, in fact. Now I own the hotel with all the money anyone would ever need. I take care of my family, and they take care of me."

Your food had grown cold by the time he finished.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize how painful your past has been, Michael."

You were surprised to see him smile. Michael showed no signs of arrogance, just genuine appreciation. "I tend to keep the painful memories to myself, y/n. Your kindness has just opened up my vulnerability."

After dinner, you and Michael had moved back to the couch. After a few more glasses of wine, you were more talkative.

Iris had cleared the plates before leaving you alone. Michael listened to you talk about your favorite things and what you despised most.

For someone who wasn't that much older than you, give or take, he was very wise. If his dialect wasn't example enough, Michael's real thoughts and opinions were of an old soul. The hours slowly ticked by, and before you knew it, you were leaning against his side.

"I find you to be fascinating, y/n," Michael said. Your hair had slowly started to unravel, and he eventually released it all together. He wouldn't admit it to you, but he loved the way it framed your face. And your neck.

"You don't think I'm just some boring twenty-something?" You teased. Michael smiled.

"Not at all."

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 2 AM.

"Holy fuck," you said. Michael snickered at your language but didn't comment. "I didn't realize how late it was."

"You're more than welcome to leave, y/n," he said, but his words seemed rather forced. "You don't have to stay on my behalf."

You could feel yourself becoming tired. Yet, you were very much enjoying this. Michael was a breath of fresh air. Everything you said, you didn't feel scrutinized. Michael liked to hear you talk, to hear about the things you were most passionate about. He listened to you.

You weren't drunk, just a little tipsy. You tilted your head at him, "Michael, how are you as single as a pringle?"

Michael frowned at you before a deep, genuine laugh echoed from his chest. You blinked at him.

"y/n, I'm very particular about my women," he said quietly. "I was a teenager once, you know. I made many mistakes, just like you, just like everyone else. I have my guard up more than most. You understand."

Michael was right, you understood perfectly.

"You talk like you're from an old Hollywood movie. It's kind of hot." You blurted out.

Michael brought a hand to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, his fingertips gently moving along your cheek, tracing over your nose before setting on your painted lips. Most of it had worn off by now, but neither you nor Michael cared.

"My sweet, sweet y/n," he whispered. "I certainly don't fuck like one."

You felt your thighs clench as he tilted his head at you. Michael's blue eyes observed you before a smirk slowly crossed his lips.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, y/n," he teased. His finger left your lips before they trailed down the side of your neck. He grabbed your throat, applying just enough pressure that left you a whining mess. "I think you've been hiding your arousal from me all night." He frowned, "At least, that's what you seem to think."

Michael observed you quietly, your hand slowly coming up to touch his as he continued holding your throat. He was amused by the sight of you.

"I could almost smell you," he growled before he lifted you like you weighed nothing. You sat on his lap, his knee knocking your legs out of the way. Your dress rode up on your thighs, revealing the red underwear underneath. It was nothing fancy, just comfortable.

Michael pressed his nose to your ear, adjusting his grip on you as you squirmed in his lap. "I like you, y/n. You're very bright, not quite like others I have encountered..." he pressed a kiss to your earlobe. "Yet, one thing always remains the same."

You slowly stuttered out, "And what's that?"

Michael chuckled in your ear, the sound husky. His free hand slowly slipped under your panties, running his fingers through your folds, before finding your clit like it was nothing. You gasped, a quiet moan escaping your throat as your hips bucked towards his hand.

"You girls want to be impaled on my thick cock, isn't that right?" Michael mewled in your ear. He still teased you as his hand was in your underwear, you pouted.

Michael released your throat, your body immediately sucking in air as he unzipped the back of your dress, allowing it to bunch at your waist. You helped him slide it off, you now clad only in your panties.

You could feel his hardness rubbing against your ass.

Michael removed his hand from your clit, making you sigh in frustration. He tsked at you, pulling your back flush against his chest as he carefully slid his fingers inside of you.

"You don't have to be greedy, y/n," he scolded. "I love having my fingers inside your sweet pussy. You take them so well, baby," he sighed into your ear.

Michael continued to finger you as you moaned and squirmed above him. No matter how many times he gently scolded you for moving too much, you couldn't stop.

"Michael, I'm so close," you whined.

"I never said you could come, y/n," he shook his head. "Be a good girl, bad girl's get punished if they misbehave,"

You whined as his fingers curled inside of you. Your arm slowly wove around his neck, gasping his name as you tried to fight off your impending orgasm.

"My precious girl," Michael purred before his fingers slid out of you.

The whine that left your mouth was loud. Michael laughed at your distress, his hand sliding from your panties entirely. He stuck them in your mouth mid grunt, making you shut up.

"Make them spotless, y/n," Michael said sternly. "Let's see how well you use that tongue before I stick my cock in your mouth."

You sucked his fingers, purposely being as loud as you can. Your tongue ran along his digits, tasting your arousal, before the sweet taste of Michael. When he seemed satisfied with your efforts, he pulled them out, forcing you to stand up.

You had no idea how Michael shed his clothes so quickly. Before you knew it, he was pulling you on top of his body. Your eyes widened at the sight of his dick in front of your face. Your knees resting on either side of his head as he ran his big hands along your ass.

"If you be a good girl, I may let you come, precious," Michael stated before you felt his tongue slowly circling your clit.

The sensation caused you to gasp, temporarily buckling your elbows as you struggled to stay above him. Michael kept a tight grip on you, your belly laying directly on his. Perhaps that meant your weight was no bother to him.

You gripped his shaft in your hand, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he slowly dragged his tongue along your slit. Michael moaned against you, causing your legs to tremble from the pleasure he was giving you.

You licked the tip before slowly taking him into your mouth. Michael hummed his approval from underneath you. He was thick, and you could feel your mouth burning as you opened as wide as you could.

Michael slowly rutted his hips to meet your mouth, both of you groaning as he slipped further into your mouth, and then Michael sliding his tongue into your tiny hole. You weren't that experienced in this predicament; you were afraid of neglecting Michael as he blissfully ate you out.

After a while, your legs started to quake as Michael spread you out wider. His back arched from the couch as he chased your pussy when it started to become too much. His hands gripped your ass tightly, shaking his head against you as you released him from your mouth to scream his name.

Michael's tongue gently lapped at your clit as you came down from your orgasm. His tongue curled against your dripping hole, gathering your juices while he slurped you up.

"Michael," you moaned. He pressed kisses along your folds, before trailing along your thighs. You continued to stroke his cock, feeling his own body tensing up beneath you.

"I better come in your fucking mouth, y/n," he asserted. You felt him make your ass, causing you to yelp. "You're going to swallow every last drop."

You took him back into your mouth as he released your ass. Michael kept his hands on your thighs, stroking them softly as you took him in as far as he would go. Your mascara ran down your cheeks as his girth stretched your mouth to ridiculous lengths.

"That's it, baby," he whined. You fought the urge to smile against him. Michael Langdon, whining because of you. His dominant hand came back to your pussy, feeling for your clit. You were still sensitive, your legs jerking as he starting stimulating you. Again.

You groaned in disapproval.

"After I come in your sweet mouth, you're going to sit on my cock, precious."

A few more jerks of your hand had him falling apart beneath you. You felt him spurt deep into your throat, your eyes closing at the feeling. Michael slowly circled your clit as he came, sighing deeply when you sucked him clean.

"FUCK!" he called out. Michael maneuvered you off him, before standing up after you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you in for a kiss.

Michael took your breath away, the taste of you on each other's lips. You felt him bite your bottom lip, before moaning into your mouth. His hands slid along your body, playing with your breasts, ghosting over your arms, just feeling you.

Michael took a seat, bringing you down onto his lap. You brought him in for a kiss this time, smiling as he carefully helped you slide onto him.

You felt him in your belly, gasping and breaking the kiss as you settled onto his thighs. Michael leaned back against the couch, his blonde hair frizzled out as he gazed at you with admiration.

He didn't say anything as you adjusted to him, his hands roaming your skin freely. The playlist in the room had long stopped, leaving you two in silence, save for the pants and whimpers.

Once you were comfortable, you bounced on his lap. Michael allowed you to take control at first, his lips sucking your nipples into his mouth as you run your hands through his soft hair.

"Your pussy is so fucking tight for me, y/n," he grunted. You pulled his mouth from your breasts, silently begging him to pay attention to the sensitive skin on your neck. He obliged, biting and leaving delicate kisses to your slick skin. He left his mark on you, eventually grabbing your hips again to pound into you.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You gasped, "Michael, Michael, Michael,"

His hips were smacking against you at an almost inhuman pace. His face remained buried in your neck, leaving multiple love bites as he growled into your skin.

"You better come before I do, baby," Michael warned. "You want to come, don't you, baby?" He mocked you. He released one of his hands, reaching back to bunch your hair in his hand, before yanking it. Your chest arched into his, gasping as he exposed your neck to him.

"P-please, Michael..." you whimpered as he kept up his relentless pace.

"I'm fucking close, y/n. You better come all over my dick, precious. Show me who this pussy belongs to."

The next few thrusts of his hips had you coming all over him. Your wetness dribbled down your thighs, onto his and the cushions beneath you.

You unintentionally squeezed his dick, your muscles contracting so tightly that Michael nearly lost his breath as he came inside of you. He slowly moved you along his shaft, making sure you completely coated him.

He brought his lips to yours again, his hands cupping your cheek as you kissed. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, before he gently removed you from his lap to place you beside him. You gasped as you no longer felt full.

Michael spread your legs, his eyes on yours as he slowly ate you out for a second time. You mewled from how sensitive you were. Just like the first time, Michael kept a firm grip on you as he lapped up his cum leaking out of you. You ran a hand through his hair, sighing his name as he pressed his nose onto your clit.

When he was finished, he pulled you close to him, his head resting on your breasts. You both were exhausted.

"We should have done this a few days ago." You whispered, thinking of your ride back home.

"We still have time," he whispered. "I hope your friend doesn't expect to see you until then."

taglist: @soph3218 @jetblackpayne @its-mikha @vixi3303 @cuddletothecake

#michael langdon x reader #cody fern #ahs hotel #au!michael #older!michael #jim mason x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #xavier plympton x reader #michael langdon imagine #asks #michael langdon #winter anderson #liz taylor #tristan duffy #michael langdon smut

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katedrakeohd · 4 years

Text

Personal Shopper

A Choices : Save the Date Fanfiction

Pairing: MC Stella Jennings and Martin Mercado (Justin)

Rated: PG for language.

Word count: approx. 2800

Context: Martin calls Stella and asks for a favor.

Author's note: Stella's personal thoughts appear in italics

Tagging:

@dailydoseofchoices @sanvivrma @samihatuli @gardeningourmet @lovealexhunt @princess-geek @loveofafangirl @storyofmychoices @msjpuddleduck @perriewinklenerdie @thepotatobleh @shrinkthisviolet @griselda1121 @iamnotjesha @desiree-0816

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

I'm standing in the bridal boutique with Lindsay finalizing our plans to attend the Wedding convention in Niagara Falls, when my phone starts ringing. Without looking at the caller ID I answer, “Hello, Jennings Wedding Planners. We make weddings spectacular, how may I help you?”

After the words leave my lips there's a pause, giving me just enough time to feel awkward about using the word ‘spectacular' .

“Stella, Hi. It's Martin.”

It's been a while since we've spoken, and I can't help but feel a tingle of excitement at hearing his voice. When I don't say anything he continues,

“Nora's wedding is coming up soon, and I was wondering if I could ask a favor?”

Oh so now he needs me for something. Is this a test?

“What kind of favor?”, I ask.

“Well as wedding planner I value your opinion on what to wear, and as Best Man I need a tuxedo. Could you help me pick one out?”

Well I've already overseen the picking out of wedding dresses. And this would give me another chance to show Martin that I can be professional and take my job seriously. So why not?

“Ok Martin, are we picking something out of your closet or are we going shopping?”

I can hear the smile in his voice when he answers, “I want something fresh and new for Nora's wedding, so let's go shopping. Are you free this evening?”

When he's not mad at me for something his voice does carry a certain charm. I wish it didn't affect me so much.

“I'm free, where are we going?”

“I'll text you the address. Meet me there at 7?”

I can't help but smile, “It’s a date.”

I hear him laugh on the other end, “Don't be late.”

As I look out the window of my taxi I can't help but shake my head. Given that the address Martin gave me borders on the south end of Central Park, it couldn't have said more “fancy rich guy” if it tried. When the taxi stops outside of the Ritz-Carlton hotel, I see Martin standing talking to the doorman. When the doorman steps over to get my door, Martin waves him off and opens it for me.

“Wow, aren't we being a gentleman?” I tease as I climb out of the taxi.

“Well you're here to do me a favor, so it's only right.”

Martin knocks on the passenger window and the driver rolls it down to accept his credit card.

I stand on the sidewalk and wait. The Ritz-Carlton doorman tips his hat to me in greeting and I blush. As the taxi drives away Martin comes back over to me.

“So this is a hotel. I thought we were going shopping?” I ask, eyeing Martin warily.

Martin's usual stern facade shifts and he smiles, “Oh we are, the store isn't far from here. So I figured we could walk.”

I shrug, falling in step beside him as we join the flow of pedestrians. “Don't tell me you're taking me to shop on 5th Avenue.” I joke.

Martin glances at me all serious, “Well yes, I always shop on 5th Avenue.

Of course you do.

As we walk by the other hotels on the street the crowd on the sidewalk gets more dense, and it's tough not to bump into people. A group of people come at us from the other direction and I have to step closer to Martin to avoid being trampled. Without warning I feel him take my hand, he leans in close to whisper. “Don't worry, I've got you.”

I give his hand a grateful squeeze, “Thanks, remind me again why walking is better than taking a taxi?”

As he guides me around a woman pushing a stroller, he smiles. “I like walking with you Stella. Remember how I walked you home after Nora's bridal shower?”

“I remember wanting to learn more about the real Martin that hides behind the façade of CEO event planner guy.”

We navigate the maze of cross walks and find ourselves on 5th Avenue.

“Well consider this as an another insight into who I am. I love this city, I live this city. The excitement, the people, the living breathing organism that is the exchange of commerce and business. I feel so energized to be a part of it.”

As I look down at his expensive shoes and the designer clothes he's wearing it reminds me of the divide between our economic classes. We might live on the same island, but he's all high-rise Penthouse and I'm Hell's Kitchen. I don’t belong in his social scene at all, yet here I am planning his sister's wedding and holding his hand. It's terrifying and exciting at the same time, like I'm on a carousel ride and if I dare let go it will all disappear and be just a dream.

He holds the door open for me as we enter the men's wear store at Bergdorf Goodman and as we step inside he looks like he's right at home. I feel like an ugly duckling in my basic cotton dress and sandals. He leads the way to the escalator and we go up to the second floor formal wear department.

The mannequins are all sharply dressed in suits of various colors and designer brands. As the only feminine thing in the whole room it feels very intense, almost erotic to be surrounded by such powerful masculinity.

The way that Martin just casually walks by the expensive price tags on display is mindboggling. But then this is his world, and money is no object. As we approach the clerk behind the counter the man smiles at us and greets Martin like an old friend.

“Martin! Back so soon! And with a pretty girl on your arm. How can I help you two today?”

Martin smiles back, “Good evening, Eric. My sister's getting married next month and I need a tux.”

Eric eyes me appraisingly as if I'm Martin's date. He seems to approve, but I don't know for sure because he quickly averts his attention back to Martin.

“Nora, right? Well tell her congrats for me. So for this extra special occasion are we going for something equally as special? Perhaps a tail coat this time?”

Martin shrugs and then looks at me, “That's not quite what I had in mind as Best Man, but let's ask the wedding planner. What do you think Stella?”

I hold my hand up, needing to clarify something first, “Hang on, I'm still trying to get over the fact that the staff know you by name. Just how many suits have you bought here?”

Martin grins at Eric, “Well this will be the fifth. There was Prom, two award shows, and of course Sam and Ali's wedding. I like shopping here because they carry the styles and brands that I like. Plus they have my size and measurements on file which helps.”

Eric laughs and smacks Martin on the arm, “Besides Martin and I go way back because we used to work here together.”

“So you weren't always part of your Dad's event planning business?” I ask, trying to imagine Martin working behind the counter at a clothing store.

“I was in highschool and Eric was in college. We worked in the backroom more so than directly with customers. It was my first taste of the business world at the ground level.”

Eric smiles, “One of the best, most down-to-earth guys I’ve ever worked with.”

Wait, what? Bossy pants, rich guy Martin is actually a nice guy under all of that expensive cologne? I knew it.

“Stop it Eric, you’re going to ruin the hard ass millionaire persona I’ve been trying so hard to uphold,” Martin jokes.

The air between us gets a little more awkward as Martin looks at me and smiles. What game are you playing Mister? You like me, then hate me, then you look at me like that and my knees go weak. Stop teasing me.

Eric claps his hands to dispell the moment and bring me back to reality, “Ok then, enough reminiscing, let’s get you a tux.”

He leads us to the racks and starts pulling things. “Let’s try this, and…this, oh and this one.”

Eric’s confidence as he chooses designer looks just at a glance is so different to Lindsay’s timid nature at the bridal boutique. He knows his niche market so well and obviously excels at it. I wish I could get the two of them in the same room, and just maybe some of his confident optimism would rub off on her.

He hands Martin a bunch of hangers as he leads us to a changing room, “I’m sure you two will be just fine with these, I’ll check back on you later.”

I feel a sudden panic take over at the idea of being left alone with Martin in a changing room. “Wait, you’re not going to help advise him about fit and stuff like that?”

Eric smiles, “I think in this matter that Martin would value your opinion more than mine. I’ll give you some privacy.”

Did he just wink at Martin before he left?

I suddenly feel hot all over when Martin hands me the hangers and then starts to unbutton his shirt, This is so not in my job description. What is going on?

I feel myself blush and look away, “Um, Martin should I wait outside?”

As he unbuttons the cuffs on his sleeves he looks down briefly as he slips off his shoes. “Only if you really want to Stella, I’m not too shy to ask for your help if I need you.”

If he needs me? What if I want to help now?

My eyes are drawn to the open neck of his shirt and the little bit of chest he’s revealed. I hang up the suits I’m holding and step toward him. “Let me help you with that.”

Martin doesn’t argue as I gently lay my hands on his chest, smoothing the fabric under my palms and running my thumb up over the buttons. His hands hang at his sides as he watches mine work to undo the buttons. I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and I boldly let my thumb graze against his skin as I reach the bottom button. Biting my lip I tug the shirt up out of his waistband. As I undo the last button I look up and meet the dark intensity of his eyes with my own. Our lips are only inches apart and I see him gasp as I run my hands up his bare chest and slide the shirt off of his shoulders and then it drops to the floor.

“Stella,” he whispers, catching my hands in his. “That's enough, thanks for the help.”

I step back and let my eyes wander down his toned and muscled arms and chest, ending at his abs, trying not to focus on anything below the belt. He clears his throat and then I look back up at his eyes.

“Are you sure you don't need help with anything else?” I ask, bending down to pick up his shirt. It's still warm and smells like him.

He pushes his shoes off to the side, and undoes his belt. I can't help but watch his hands.

“Yes Stella, I think I can manage the rest from here. I'm quite capable of dressing and undressing myself.”

I feel warm all over as I back out of the changing room, “I..I understand. I'll be outside if you need me.”

I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath. My mind, nerves and sexual desire are buzzing in overdrive.

Holy hell what the heck was that? He had no reservations about taking his shirt off in front of me. What the fuck is this twisted game he's playing? Was he just testing me to see if the attraction is mutual? Because it definitely is.

My eyes are closed, when I hear the door open.

“Okay, what do you think?”

My head snaps round to the sound of his voice. Damn he looks good in black. The crisp white of his shirt pops against the caramel color of his skin, and the bowtie draws attention to his handsome face and brilliant smile.

“Wow, Martin. Just wow.” I can't hide my smile of admiration.

“I know right? Eric really knows what looks good on me.”

He certainly does.

“You bet I do!” Eric says, grinning from ear to ear with pride.

After a quick visual assessment Eric nods. “And it's a perfect fit.”

Martin catches me staring and makes a show of adjusting his shirt cuffs and smoothing the lapels of his jacket. I can feel myself blush when he lays a smoldering look on me. He knows he looks good and that I'm checking him out. He undoes the button on the jacket and casually stuffs his hands in the pockets of the trousers as if he already owns them.

“Great then. I'll get changed and then you can ring me up.”

Eric smirks at me when Martin disappears to go change, “You like him don't you? You know you're just his type. Please tell me that you two are a thing.”

I'm caught off guard by his observation, but I can't help but tell him the truth.

“Not yet, but I'm working on it.”

Eric laughs, “I knew it! The two of you have been setting off serious sparks ever since you walked in.”

Well whatever is going on it's seriously something volatile.

“You're his friend, any advice for me?” I ask nervously.

I can't believe I'm really asking someone how to pursue a relationship with Martin.

“Be patient, he knows what he's got going on, but under it all he has a good heart and a good head.”

“And a good face.”

He grins and points at me, “You, Stella. I like you. Got spunk for days.”

Martin comes back out, “What are you two grinning about?”

“Oh nothing. Stella and I were just talking about cute boys that's all.”

He laughs, “I bet your husband wouldn't like that.”

Eric laughs, “Nah he'd just be jealous about missing out on the details.”

I blush and look down at my shoes, praying for the floor to open me up and swallow me whole. “Um, can we go now?”

Eric winks and collects the tuxedo and accessories from Martin, “But of course Madame et Monsieur, right this way.”

Standing next to Martin at the counter I try not to peek at the price of everything as Eric rings them up. Martin hands over his black Visa card. “So I'm assuming the hemming of the trousers to the proper inseam is included. And that everything will be delivered to my address?”

Eric smiles and nods as he makes a note on the receipt. “Yes Mr. Mercado, and as always it's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Thanks Eric, we'll be back.”

We? What's this we all of a sudden?

“Nice to meet you Stella.” Eric says as we turn to go.

I smile and wave and then Martin leads me back out of the store. Out on the street I turn on him.

“Ok Martin, out with it. Why did you really invite me out to go shopping with you?”

Martin runs his hand over the side of his face, and looks down at his shoes with a sigh. “Honestly?”

I fold my arms across my chest, “I'd like the truth, yes.”

Martin looks up and the expression on his face is open and sincere. “The truth is…that..that I like you Stella. I was looking for an excuse to see you again.”

Well holy shit. I don't know what to say.

“Stella?” he says, as he catches me staring at him again. “Say something.”

I blink and then look down and reach for his hand. When I look back up at him again he's smiling. “I think I'd like that Mr. Mercado.”

He steps closer, “And what exactly would you like Stella?”

“For you to find more excuses to see me. Because I like spending time with you too.”

He brings his hand up to brush the hair back from my face, his thumb grazes my cheek and sends a thrilling sensation traveling down my neck. He leans in close and my eyes drop down to focus on his lips, now just a breath away from touching mine. I suck in a breath in anticipation and then he draws himself back.

With a sigh he steps back from me. “Can I call you sometime?”

I feel like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs so I just nod.

“Yes, anytime.” I manage to whisper.

"Okay good, but for now let me call you a cab."

#long post #save the date #justin mercado

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cantgetoutofmyheda · 5 years

Note

46. What if i told you... clexa

If someone had told a younger version of Lexa that she would one day find herself in a conference room with the head of marketing for 20th Century Fox Films, she would have laughed in their face—but here she was, sitting face-to-face with Indra.

The woman pursed her lips, making a calculated decision in her head before finally speaking, “Listen, Lexa. It’s the company’s 85th anniversary. We need to go big, that’s why we’re here talking to you,” she paused, waiting for Lexa to acknowledge the compliment, “I’ll be honest, we received a lot of good proposals from your competitors, but there’s something about Vice that has just been speaking out to me.”

Lexa nodded and tugged her lips into a grin, “Is it the exceptional branded content we make for our partners? Our network of publications we have ties to? The culturally relevant events we plan on a weekly basis?” She lifted her brow before she continued, “Indra, I promise you that if you go with my team, the whole world will know that your company will be throwing the party of the year. Forget the Met Gala, everyone’s going to want an invite to this.”

Indra couldn’t help but laugh at the younger woman’s enthusiasm, “They don’t call you ‘The Commander’ for nothing, huh?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lexa smirked.

“Okay,” Indra sighed, “Put your best team on it. I want a huge campaign—media running at least a month before the event. Co-branded billboards. Hell, I want every damn bus, cab, and train wrapped in our posters.”

“You got it,” Lexa nodded as she jotted down notes.

“And,” Indra lifted her index finger, “I want your creative department to vet all the artists through me. I give final approval on the commissioned pieces, and I am counting on your creatives to make sure that our vision isn’t being taken away.”

Lexa nodded again, “Of course,” she couldn’t help the grin on her face as she stuck out her hand, “So do we have a deal?”

Indra let out a chuckle, reaching for the brunette’s hand, “It seems as so.”

---

“It’s going to be fucking sick, Lexa,” Anya smiled, flipping through a Keynote presentation, “Indra approved every single artist I chose and their initial concepts.”

“Knew you’d come through,” Lexa shrugged.

“Oh,” Anya turned to face her, “As if I’ve never come through with mind blowing plans?”

“You do,” she shrugged again, “that’s why you’re our creative director.”

Anya placed her hand on Lexa’s shoulder, “Exactly. Now are you ready for me to run through production timelines? They’re kind of tight, but I know we can make them work.”

Lexa sat on the lounge chair across Anya’s desk and kicked her feet onto the small coffee table, “Hit me.”

“Alright,” Anya flipped to another slide, “We give the artists approval today to start their pieces and check in next Tuesday for revisions—that’s over a week from now, which should be enough time. By the following Tuesday, we do one more round—hopefully working with the final product. Once Indra gives the ‘okay,’ she chooses eight of the thirty pieces to highlight in the advertising leading up to the event, and the rest will be unveiled there.”

Lexa nodded, the tip of her ballpoint pen was sitting at the corner of her mouth, “We’ll need to digitize all the paintings as soon as they’re finished in order to get the right specs for the billboards and transit wraps, then your team will have to work pretty quick to get some editorial pieces, digital videos of the story behind the eight pieces, and all the online banners.”

“All built into the timeline,” Anya shook her head, “Have you no faith in me?”

“I know,” Lexa nodded, “I know. It’s just the biggest partner we’ve ever had and biggest campaign and event we’ve ever done, it needs to be perfectly executed.”

Anya looked at her friend dead in the eyes, “And it will be.”

---

To say that the campaign leading into the event was successful would be the understatement of the year. The ads using the re-imaged artwork for the film house’s famous movie posters was the talk of the town—talk of the country. Every publication was writing about them, streaming for the eight movies chosen had nearly tripled on Netflix, Hulu, and Prime, compared to this time period last year. Lexa was beyond happy—exhausted, but beyond happy.

“Stop stressing,” Anya rubbed her friend’s arm, “everything’s going to be perfect.”

“I know, it’s just,” Lexa rubbed her temple before smoothing her pressed white button up which was neatly tucked into her slim-fitting suit pants, “this is it. It’s the climax of the whole activation—all eyes are on it.”

“Go mingle and check out all the posters, Lex,” Anya gave her a gentle nudge forward, “Hell, grab a glass of wine, too. I know you haven’t seen all the final art yet, go take a look and enjoy yourself for a bit—it’s well deserved.”

Lexa nodded, “Okay, yeah. Just call or text me if you need anything.”

Anya rolled her eyes, “Just go.”

---

Lexa found herself sipping her wine and staring at a painting that depicted one of her favorite movies. She knew that someone was commissioned to do this piece, it was actually one of the ones she didn’t want to see the concepts and mocks for—wanting to be surprised during the unveiling of the showcase. She stood, sipped, and stared, hoping to find answers to her questions within each brush stroke.

“You’ve been standing here for a while,” a voice next to her observed.

Lexa turned to face the stranger and was taken aback by how piercing her blue eyes were, “I have. And I presume you have too, if you’ve taken notice to me.”

The woman smiled, “I saw you from across the room a few minutes ago. I’ve been making my way through the exhibit. I was pretty surprised to see still handing here as I made my way around.”

Lexa returned the smile, “I see. So, are you in the film industry or are you a fan of art?”

“The latter,” the woman smiled, “Do you have a favorite piece from tonight?”

Lexa turned back to the painting in front of her, “I think I’m still trying to decide. What about you?”

“Easy,” she answered, “over in the Modernism section—Mannequin, the 80’s movie with Kim Cattrall.”

Lexa furrowed her brow, “I actually don’t think I know it. What’s it about?”

The woman laughed, “80’s rom-com. Kim Cattrall plays a department store mannequin that comes to life. It’s so bad that it’s good. One of my all time guilty pleasures.”

“Sounds interesting,” Lexa smirked, “Might have to check that one out.”

“So,” the blue-eyed beauty stepped closer to Lexa, “tell me what’s so interesting about this piece for you. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’d assume there’s something piquing your interest since you’ve been standing here for so long.”

“I–,” Lexa started, “Well, this is one of my favorite movies of all time.”

The woman nodded for her to continue.

Lexa smiled, “I knew this was being commissioned, but I wasn’t expecting this particular poster to be used. I know there were a few different ones floating around when the movie was in theaters, but this one was one of the more uncommon ones. I’m not bummed about it, just trying to understand why the artist chose this one to represent the film.”

She brought her attention back to the piece—it’s true, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back was one of her favorite movies of all time, and arguably the best Star Wars movie in the entire saga. Mostly everyone knew the iconic poster: Darth Vader in the shadows of the background, with Han Solo and Princess Leia in an almost-kiss in the foreground, and Luke and the droids at their side. This piece, however—this piece didn’t depict that poster. This one had Darth Vader most prominent with Stormtroopers rushing to the foreground. The film’s protagonists all had a certain fear cast in their eyes—it showcased the power of the Dark Side, not the optimistic resistance of the Light Side that people were used to.

“I see,” the woman interrupted her train of thought, “it’s nice to see something so out of the ordinary for such an iconic movie, though. Don’t you think?”

Lexa nodded, “Absolutely, I think the thing that’s on my mind is just wanting to know why the artist chose to do their depiction on this poster.”

“So,” the woman took another step closer, now entering Lexa’s personal space, “are you industry or a fan of art?”

“Both, I suppose,” Lexa said, scanning the woman in front of her up and down, “I work for Vice, my team put the campaign and event together—though I am a big fan of art, even outside of this project,” she tugged the corner of her mouth into a smirk and reached her hand forward, “Lexa Woods.”

The woman took Lexa’s hand in hers, giving it a light shake, “What if I told you I was the artist behind this commission?”

Lexa raised a brow, but before she could respond, the woman spoke up again, “Clarke Griffin. It’s a pleasure.”

“Clarke,” Lexa repeated, surprised at the way the woman’s named rolled so seamlessly off her tongue, “Pleasure is all mine. Maybe I could pick your brain about your piece, then?”

Clarke raised a brow, “How about over a drink?”

“Well,” Lexa raised her glass of wine, “I already have one, so maybe we should get one for you?”

Clarke bit her bottom lip, “I was thinking something outside of a work setting—because that’s technically what this is for you, right? Me as well, I suppose.”

Lexa smiled, “I see. Are you asking me out for a drink?”

“I guess I am,” Clarke grinned, “But only for the sake of Star Wars and artistic expression.”

“Only?” Lexa raised a brow.

Clarke corrected herself, “Mostly.”

“I see,” Lexa smirked, “tomorrow at 7? Wine bar down the street?”

“Sure,” Clarke nodded with a grin plastered on her face.

“Well then,” Lexa cocked her head to the side, “I suppose it’s a date.”

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shawnsorangeglasses · 5 years

Text

Better Conversations - Part 5

2.1k words

Here’s more of everyone’s favorite babyboybaby.

Synopsis: Another assistant AU, you’ve known Shawn since the beginning but you don’t really become friends until a label party in New York. Then he offers you a job as his assistant.

Shawn and (Y/N) spend her first full day helping her shop for some more clothes. This proves to be a bit of a learning curve for (Y/N).

here’s my masterlist so y’all can start at part one if you’re new.

(Y/N)’s eyelids fluttered open. Her room was mostly dark. She tossed her legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from the corners of her eyes. Everything that happened since she agreed to work for Shawn had finally processed in her brain. It was just now hitting what it really is that she signed up for.

She habitually reaches for her phone on the bedside table, only it’s not there. It’s too much trouble to try and look for it so she just checks her watch instead. It’s 6:53 AM. She wonders if she already missed waking up Shawn. It’s still too early to know his schedule by heart.

After lying there for another ten minutes, (Y/N) drags herself out of bed and knocks on Shawn’s door. No answer. She cautiously turns the knob and pushes in. The room was still the way she left it last night, except all the lamps were on and Shawn was no longer in his bed. The bathroom door was wide open and the light inside was on. Maybe he'd already went out.

“Shawn?”

“In here,” he responds from inside the bathroom. He steps out, presenting his shirtless six foot self with nothing but a towel resting at the base of his v-line and shaving cream all over his jaw. He looked like a Michelangelo that came to life. (Y/N) can only stare for about three very long seconds before averting her gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” Shawn chirps. He beckons her with a wave then goes back to the sink. “I just have to shave and then we can go.”

(Y/N) stands on the wall, unsure of where to look. “Go where e-exactly?”

“I said I would take you shopping, remember?”

“Don’t you have to go to the gym?”

Shawn pops his head out again. He’s cleared half of his face of foam now. It helps take away from the sex appeal. “I did that hours ago.”

“What? What time is it?” She hurdles over various suitcases to reach his window and snatch back the curtains. A blinding amount of sunlight pierces through Shawn’s dimly lit room.

“Probably noon now.”

“You were going to let me sleep until noon?!”

Shawn nods like this is nothing. “Yeah. You looked so peaceful when I got up, so I just went to the gym. Then I went to breakfast with Andrew and Jake— see, this is for you.”

He pads over to the kitchenette and takes a small paper bag out of the microwave.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, so it’s just two muffins and a breakfast sandwich.”

(Y/N) tried to calm down. If only her heart could stop thumping so hard, she might be able to hear herself think. Clearly, this wasn’t an issue to him, but as his assistant, she’s supposed to be one step ahead of him at all times. At least, that’s what she was taught.

“Okay, okay. Shawn, listen, I appreciate the extra hours, but please just wake me up next time. I’m here to help you, and I can’t do that if I’m sleeping in. I’m trying to keep this job.”

“(Y/N),” he says. Shawn clears the space between them in about three steps. He places his hands on her shoulders. “The only way you’re losing this job is if you want to leave. And I can only hope it never comes to that.”

(Y/N)’s muscle tense up under his fingertips. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Go on. Get ready. You’re going to want more clothes for the rest of the year.”

——————————

“How are you even awake?”

Shawn took (Y/N) to a department store in the metropolis area of London. She already forgot the name of it on the way in. It’s old world exterior didn’t match its modern interior. A part of of London’s architectural charm, she figured. She jogs up beside him again. He walked fast and she with her shorter, less muscular legs struggled to meet his long strides.

“What do you mean how am I awake?” Shawn doesn’t miss a beat, scanning the entire building for one store in particular.

“I mean you were literally passed out on your bed last night. ”

Shawn pauses, forcing (Y/N) to come to a screeching halt. She runs into his side and it feels like a brick wall.“So it actually was you who tucked me in?” His eyes twinkle with appreciation. “I thought I dreamed that.”

“Y-yeah. Well no. I couldn’t lift you off the blankets so I threw one of mine on top of you.”

“Aw,” he purrs, then picks up the pace again. “How sweet.”

“It’s not that sweet,” she insists.

“It’s pretty damn sweet, (Y/N).”

“Agree to disagree. Where are you taking me?”

Shawns stops again, this time in front a very expensive looking boutique. (Y/N) laughs at first, thinking he was kidding. Then the honesty settled in his toffee brown eyes tell her that he is in fact dead serious.

“No way, not happening. Uh-uh.”

“Wha- what’s wrong with this store,” he asks, kind of laughing with her.

“Shawn I can’t afford any of that fancy shit. I didn’t get that much of salary increase when I came to work for you.”

“Who said you would be paying for any of it?”

“Hell no. No, no, no, and no again. You are not paying for my clothes.”

“Come on,” Shawn huffs, pushing her closer to the entrance. While (Y/N) did attempt to escape his grip, he was still built like a Clydesdale and lifted her off the ground like she was made of feathers. “Consider it a first day bonus or something.”

Shawn sets her down. She felt like a hazard just standing next to a clothing rack.

“Do you have any idea what this is going to look like if someone sees us in here,” she hisses.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I also don’t give a shit.” He sits on a display table, underneath and stylish mannequin and starts scrolling through his phone. “I’m going to be right here when you get back.” He waves her away into the store. “Now go, dear assistant. Shop your heart out.”

“This is stupid.”

“Go,” Shawn says firmly.

It takes a few minutes of aimless walking around for the (Y/N) to feel normal in the store. Nobody was really looking at her, but it definitely felt like it. She was more than aware of how she did not fit into the glamorous decor.

She looks to Shawn for comfort, but also to glare. He’s milling over the jewelry rack when he meets her piercing eyes. He just smiles back, fondly of course. He always looks at her that way now. She rolls her eyes at him. That usual light giggle can be heard even from where she’s standing.

So she focused on the shoes and designer blouses, ignoring the people and ornate mold on the walls. Someone taps on her shoulder. To (Y/N)’s relief, it’s only the big oaf that dragged her here.

“You okay,” he asks. “We can leave if this stresses you out.”

“No,” she says firmly. I can take it, she thought. And she was right. If she was going to get used to being Shawn’s assistant, she had to get used to being apart of his publicized circle too. It’s not like anyone could hear her thoughts, least of all Shawn. This was her clean slate.

(Y/N) glances over past his arm at a few wary faces of the staff. The bubbly grins on their faces could only mean they recognized him. Normally, those looks would feel like a red flag, but something about Shawn made (Y/N) feel a little more secure and in control. This must be what he felt all the times he went out in public.

“I’m almost done anyways,” she assures him.

Before long, (Y/N) had a somewhat hefty pile of outfits in her arms. She found Shawn where he said he would be. He looks up from his phone.

“You didn’t want anything else?”

“Shawn I swear to every fucking god—”

“Sorry, sorry. Let’s go checkout.”

Shawn makes the purchase quickly and they’re back to strolling. At the doors, (Y/N) heads in one direction towards the exit and Shawn goes in the complete opposite, further into mall.

She yanks on his hand. “Shawn, the exit is this way.”

“But there’s a food court this way,” he yanks back.

“Shawn we don’t have the time.”

“If you love me, you’ll let me eat.”

(Y/N)’s jaw drops. She didn’t want to say no, but she most certainly couldn’t say yes.

“I-”

“Don’t you love me,” he coos pulling her closer. He was joking, but that didn’t stop (Y/N)’s cheeks from going red hot.

“I am not going to entertain that with an answer. We need to go. I can order something healthier to the hotel room.”

“Well I...I am your boss,” he quips.

(Y/N) steps back. “You really wanna pull that card right now?”

“Which means you have to do what I say.”

“Shawn—”

“And as your boss, I say we are eating lunch at the food court.”

(Y/N) purses her lips into a tight pout. “You know for someone so mature, you’re kind of a brat.”

He just flashes that million dollar smile, brimming with allure. It was absolutely disgusting how cute he looked right now and the worst part is that Shawn knew it was working. (Y/N) was suddenly able to come up with every excuse in the book for them to stay a little longer. Slowly pulling her hand closer to his side, he takes his semi-willing assistant to the food court. He doesn’t let go of her hand either.

It didn’t feel right or wrong, just in between. Like no man’s land. (Y/N) was sure it looked normal to every other person walking past, but on the inside, the tiniest of voices was screaming at her to run in the opposite direction. It was all there. The fluttery feeling in her belly, the heat on the back of her neck, the very inappropriate thoughts. She was setting herself up again.

“You hold hands with all your assistants?” It’s an awkward question, but the line has to be drawn.

Shawn looks down at their hands, then at (Y/N)’s face and lets go. “I don’t know. I’ve never had an assistant before.” He sounds apologetic.

“It’s fine, but I can’t really be your friend-friend right now. I’m still technically at work. You understand.”

His lips stretch into a tight smile, making his already flush appear even redder. “Professional?”

“Professional.”

——————————

The sun’s on its way to the horizon by the time Shawn and (Y/N) make it back to the hotel. Lunch went smoother than the earlier parts of the day. (Y/N) coordinated Shawn’s schedule with times to eat and rest and do whatever press work Andrew had lined up for the next few months of tour.

Shawn inserts his keycard into his room door. (Y/N) walks past him to get to her door, searching her bag for her key as well.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” she reminds him. “The bus will be here soon so just make sure everything’s packed.”

“Wait,” he says.

(Y/N) lifts her head up from her bag. Shawn is in a completely different state, all flustered and red in the face, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looks like that kid she saw in the meeting all over again.

“Was that weird of me to hold your hand?”

His candor comes as a shock to (Y/N). She didn’t expect him to bring it up again, and so soon at that. She pushes him into her room, where someone is less likely to hear them.

“I didn’t even notice I was doing it,” he continues, “I was just fucking around at the time, but I don’t want to you to be uncomfortable because of me.”

“Shawn, you think too much. We’re well past that. I’m not on the clock unless you say so. Otherwise, I can be that person for you all day long.”

He swallows hard. “I guess I just thought...” he turns away, facing the door. “Nah it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me.”

(Y/N) contemplates placing a hand on his shoulder while he can’t see her. Would that be too close? It feels too close. She stays that way, halfway there but not quite. Then Shawn turns around, and her hand darts behind her head.

“No, it’s not important anymore. Forget I said anything.”

(Y/N) stared at him in confusion. It’s funny. Shawn has always maintained a great deal of transparency with her until this moment. Although, the way he tucked his hands under his arms now told her it was best not to push him.

“Okay then. Well I have to change and stuff,” she says.

Shawn just nods.

“That means you have to get out of my room Shawn.”

“Oh! Right, s-sorry. Of course you do.” He stumbles over to the conjoined door before nearly closing it on himself. (Y/N) can just barely hear him muttering swears to himself behind the very thin walls.

The bus arrives an hour or two ahead of schedule. It was dark outside now and a light drizzle was coming down. Shawn and (Y/N) make their way down to the hotel lobby and out the back at the kitchen entrance to meet everyone else. The crew and the band are loading suitcases into the cargo hold along with another man she’s never seen before. Shawn steps forward to give him a bear hug so tight, his glasses go crooked. Then they both turn to (Y/N).

“(Y/N) this is Cez Darke, our tour manager. Cez, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), my assistant.”

(Y/N) goes in for her usual handshake, but Cez lovingly swats it away and pulls her in for a bear hug too.

“There’s no handshakes around here,” he says. “For the next seven months, we’re family.” He holds her by the shoulders. “Got a feeling you’ll fit in just fine with this group.”

Cez takes (Y/N)’s bags and loads them with the rest. “Shawn why don’t you give her the grand tour of the bus,” he suggests. “We’ll be rolling in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Shawn looks down at (Y/N) again. “Follow me.”

He guides her over to the door, allowing her to step in first.

“Alright well, this is the common area,” Shawn says, gesturing to everything, which could be summed up to a lounge space, a couple of wall TVs, a small dining booth, and a four foot wide kitchen space. “This place is the least active though because we all usually just sleep on the bus.”

He walks over to a thin door in the wall, “That’s the bathroom. We’re not allowed number twos. Driver’s orders.”

Shawn goes further into the rear to a hall of beds, four bunks on either side. He pats his large hands on two mats. “Sleeping area.” Then he opens the door at the end of the hall, revealing a master bedroom on the other side. “Bigger sleeping area. We play rock, paper, scissors or flip a coin for this one every trip.”

(Y/N) peeks under his arm into the plush room. “Does that mean I get to play for it too?”

“If you’d like to,” Shawn says lowly.

“You guys ever share it if you tie?”

“If we’re too tired for a tiebreaker, yeah.”

The hallway began to feel a little more narrow the longer they stood there. (Y/N) clears her throat for no reason. Shawn leans back on the wall behind him, stretching his legs over to (Y/N)’s wall.

“I didn’t want you to think I was like Jason,” he mutters.

“What?”

“The way you said Jason trapped you after you guys became a thing. I didn’t want you to think that’s what I was doing.”

“I didn’t think that’s what you were doing. And he didn’t trap me. I did that to myself. I thought there was something there when it wasn’t.”

“So we’re-”

“-We’re cool, yes.” She holds out her hand. “We can even hold hands now if you really want.”

Shawn glances at her hand, then back at her eyes. On the far end of the bus, the band members can be heard piling aboard in a loud, happy conversation. “No thanks. As of now, we’re competing for the bed.”

taglist:

@spider-mendes @sebsdreamboat @innositer

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes writings #better conversations

67 notes · View notes

the-end-of-art · 5 years

Text

Two persimmons, getting old

The Coat by EJ Koh

My mother’s regular department store was 32 floors tall. Thirty-two floors of luxury goods in Bundang, Seoul, each department happy to accept her credit cards gifted by my father’s company. Beyond the department store’s three golden, rotating entrance doors were playrooms, cafés, movie theaters, designer stores, and wedding halls. The floors above were divided into beauty, clothing, home, electronics, and books. In the basement, the discount and returns section of the store, paper won passed between shoppers and clerks. Nearby, nuptials from the hall; gunfire from the cinema.

My mother told me to call the girls working the clothing floor sisters. They greeted my mother with high, zesty voices ringing around the endless corners. The girls wore navy blue suit jackets with stiff collars and navy blue skirts and heels. Every hair was waxed, combed into a bun; every lip a bright red. The girls wore clean white gloves to handle expensive items. They turned their wrists in dove-winged gestures to direct my mother ahead, offering her a reduced price on a “hot item” bag and complimentary face masks. They said to her, “Hello again, dear customer” and “Please ask us anything” and “Come in, take your time” and “Welcome to our store” and “We have everything you’re looking for.”

I barely stood on both feet, instead shifting my weight from one to the other, and I slouched. When the girls bowed to me, their mouths could not hide their apprehension at my wrestling shoes and my hoodie. They recognized me as a wealthy daughter who studied abroad and wore torn jeans and spoke English.

I stared into the shop. Shiny displays of black dresses; cardigans for summer modesty. A feeling arose within me: I loved this place and its fineness. My heart landed on one lovely thing, then another. White scalloped tops on wooden hangers. Chiffon ruffle blouses on mannequins. Cream leather jackets with silver zippers. Meanwhile, my mother stormed through the shop as if it were a street market.

My fingertips grazed a shark tooth–patterned coat. Teal and black pulsated through the coat’s body, all of it lined in silk. The collar was stiff and structured. The sleeves widened at the bottom—a touch of whimsy.

The shopgirl came up to me. Grinning, she must have believed she had caught a fish—not the mother but her daughter. Two inches shorter than me with an uncomplicated beauty, she was better suited for the coat than I was. Folding her gloved hands at her waist, she said, “The color’s unique. It’s eye-catching, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, sister. It’s on sale,” I said to help her cause.

“Because it’s a coat from this past winter.” She raised the coat to eye level in front of us. “It’s too attractive to pass up, both the coat and the price.”

“It’s bold, sister,” I said, keeping up with her formality.

“You can’t not look at it, can you?” She showed the back of the coat. “If no one bought it, I wanted it for myself. I admired it like a lover, and here you’ve come to take it.”

“Really?” I asked.

“I’m jealous,” she said, and ran her fingers along the seam. “The coat stands out and so do you. You’re meant for each other.”

I bowed, prepared to leave her department. But my mother, far ahead on the walkway, spun around to face me. Retracing her steps, she entered the section. The girl kept her back to my mother, seemingly ignoring her, but addressing me clearly so that she could hear. “You look so young, and your Korean sounds delicate,” she said to me. “What’s your name?”

My mother laughed. “This is my daughter.”

The girl held her hands higher on her waist. “She looks just like you, ma’am.”

“Really, is that true?” my mother asked. “Of course, it makes me happy.”

“She’s not like the girls here,” she said. “Was she born here?”

“My daughter was born in America—it keeps her innocent.”

“Oh, I can see it,” the girl said. “She must have no bad thoughts at all.”

My mother clapped once. “If she got lost here, she’d be gone forever!”

The girl said, “You know how they say everything—”

“Everything comes to the surface eventually!”

My mother scrutinized the coat. She shook it out as if it was laundry fresh from the dryer. “Only my daughter would pick this one.” She was using her mother wit for a bargain, and my job was to notice it.

“Your daughter has good taste,” the girl said in reply.

“This looks cheap, like wholesale,” my mother said. “What’s the original price?”

The girl presented the tag with two hands.

My mother looked impressed. “This ratty old thing?”

“It’s one of a kind,” the girl said to her. “Hand-sewn.”

My mother scoured for loose threads and a discount.

“Let’s go,” I said to my mother, who was unaware of the other shoppers and their glances our way. “I don’t need it, sister. Thank you—”

My mother’s nails pinched my forearm. “Hold on,” she said to me. “Give me a second.”

The next words mattered. The girl said to her, “Your daughter is so lucky to have a mother like you.”

My mother nodded approvingly. “Let’s do a bigger cut, off the price—”

“Oh, I’m a shopgirl,” she said. “You know I can’t haggle like that—”

“Whatever you can, I’ll give you cash—”

“Please, don’t fuss. This isn’t a place for that—”

“Tell me the price again?” My mother counted new, clean bills. “I’ll come back to your shop again with my friends next week, and we’ll each buy something.”

The girl sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“OK, fine,” she said. “Since you’re a special customer.”

“I won’t forget it,” my mother said.

The girl wrapped the coat in a bag. “Oh, I can’t spit on a smiling face.”

“Yes, you’ve made us smile.” My mother eased up and took the girl’s hand. “You’re so smart and fast. You’re a good girl. You don’t say too much, you don’t give too much.”

The sale finished, the girl’s shoulders relaxed. She pulled me to her side, as though we were friends holding hands. I thought this was how it must feel to have a sister. “Your daughter speaks Korean?” she asked my mother. “She speaks both, it’s impressive.”

“This,” my mother said, raising the bag with the coat, “is the most expensive thing I ever bought her. She doesn’t live in California like I do here. It’s hard to take money and move it across the world. It’s easier to move people.”

“Then your daughter should wear it out.”

My mother nodded gratefully as the girl swapped my hoodie with the coat. She guided me into the sleeves, one after the other, then gave me a tie to pull my hair back.

“How is it?” the girl asked me. “Do you feel refreshed?”

“Oh, oh, she’s starting to look like me,” my mother said. “Do you see?”

“It’s her eyes,” she said. “Your daughter has the best of both. She’ll grow up to have a glamorous figure, like an American. When she came in today, I could tell she was different. She has so much ki. You can’t help but notice. The girls are curious. They were saying, ‘How mysterious!’ ‘How quiet, solemn, dark-skinned. Can she be so young?’ ”

“It’s my fault.” My mother took the bag with the hoodie, tucked it under her arm. “It’s all my doing. I made her suffer too much. I didn’t know what to give her, so I gave her pain. She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“She is pure,” the girl comforted her.

“You’ve suffered too,” my mother said to her. “Whose poor daughter are you?”

“My parents are missionaries,” she said. “I’ll marry and move into my husband’s house to live with his parents the day before my waist thickens but no sooner.”

My mother patted her head. “You have a lucky forehead. You’ll have many suitors. And you’re right to wait. Nobody loves you like your mother. Not your father, not your husband, and not your children. While your parents are alive, eat as much of their love as you can, so it can sustain you for the rest of your life.”

In the shop’s oval mirror, the coat embraced me.

“What a reduction,” the girl said to me. “You’re lucky to have a mother like her.”

My mother said, “There was one woman, prettier than anyone. It was my own mother. Back in the old days, you couldn’t hide beauty. In those plain huts, dirt roads, can you imagine how she stood out? It was impossible to live in the countryside. She died young and tragically.” My mother squeezed my hand in hers. “I was a little girl when she died, and she left me to live without her.”

For an early dinner, we hunted for barbecued duck. My mother drove outside the city, past a construction site, onto an uphill road, through a forest of pale-limbed trees with thin branches that pointed to the sky. Where the road narrowed, we came to a hidden driveway and a two-story restaurant on wooden stilts.

The duck was presented in neat rows of thin slices, sunning on our floor table. Pointing to the new coat I was wearing, my mother would not let me cook. Using metal chopsticks, she rested a slice over the grill, charred it on each side, dipped the cooked slice into a sweet mustard, and fed it to me. Tender, rich, and smoky. Driving here no longer seemed out of the way. Our iced coffees were $10 each.

“Slow down,” my mother said. “You’re going to choke.”

“Let’s order more,” I said, feeling more awake. “More mustard, too.”

“Are you starving yourself at home?”

I did not tell her that I ate cookies, chips, cereal, and emptied the cupboards. Even as I felt pain in my stomach, I wanted more. The first time I made myself throw up, at the age of 16, I felt relief. From then on it was normal for me to go on eating, then undo what I had done. There were tooth marks on my knuckles; my jaw was swollen.

For all I knew, I was the only person in the world throwing up my food. Only I could feel the bones of my feet in my shoes; only I saw my nails feather at the tips and felt scared when I noticed a piece of my throat, a strip of flesh, sinking to the bottom of the toilet bowl. I had told myself that I would not do it while staying with my mother.

The waitress kneeled at our table and hugged me, causing my chopsticks to clatter to the floor. She removed new ones from her apron, set them on the table, and said, “I feel like I’m seeing a ghost. I have listened to your mother talk about you for hours. She had to bring you out here just to prove to me that you were real. She didn’t pay you, did she?”

The waitress, who looked to be in her 40s, had wrinkles around her mouth. Women with sons have this face, my mother once told me. While you can fight with your daughter, you must bite your tongue in front of your son.

She scooted right next to me and warned me about my mother’s friends, or the wives of my father’s friends: “Those people, they’ll see a girl like you, take you to a place like this, then get you drunk and bring you home to one of their mansions, and they’ll trap you and lock you in a room with one of their lonely sons!”

My mother laughed. She used to be a waitress and must often have found herself friendlier with waitstaff than she was with my father’s friends and their wives. “Young women,” she said, “are more valuable than men these days.”

“God,” the waitress said, slapping the floor. “They’d be overjoyed to get her pregnant and then force her to marry their sons. Then they’d get a daughter and a grandchild. A daughter to order around, a grandchild to show off.”

“It wasn’t always like that,” said my mother.

While you can fight with your daughter, you must bite your tongue in front of your son.

“Praise the Lord,” said the waitress.

“Do you like her new coat?” my mother asked.

“It’s true what they say,” the waitress said to me. “Your clothes are your wings.”

The waitress shifted from a kneel to a squat, dug into her back pocket, and slid an envelope across the floor. My mother bowed to her, gathered the envelope, and transferred it into a larger envelope inside her purse.

“My husband’s friend’s wife wants to meet my daughter tonight,” my mother said. They both acted as though the envelope had not passed between them. “She’s buying us barbecued eel. That woman has an elevator in her house!”

The waitress clapped her hands. “What a lonely woman to beg!”

“Pity is the path to mutuality,” said my mother.

“Oh, screw pity. She has an elevator!”

My mother drove to her regular bathhouse, which we entered through a parking garage so far underground that you could feel the air cooling. We emerged from an elevator. She paid at the front desk. The woman set out two sets of shirts and shorts to sweat in, and towels. We rinsed in the showers. We soaked inside the pools. The steam rose, filigree above our shoulders in the shape of white swans. On spa tables, our bodies were scrubbed raw and rolls of dead skin collected beneath us.

I asked my mother about the envelope. My mother’s friends saved for big purchases by adding each month to a pot, and one of them received the gye payout on a rotating basis. The women had chosen my mother to be their collector and distributor. She was good with numbers in her head at the market.

Her eyes were closed. “With my payout?” she asked me. “I send it to my brothers. I left you and your brother to come here and be with my side of the family. But I don’t know how their lives can be so difficult. How can they live so poorly? How can I ask your dad for money to help my brothers? My brothers are too proud.” She took a towel and put it over her face. Through the cloth, she said, “So, I send my brothers’ wives bags of rice. I give envelopes of money to their children. If our own mother hadn’t died so young, maybe things would’ve been different. How can they lead such unfortunate lives?”

Our bodies were flipped onto our sides and the scrubbing resumed.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said to me. “I don’t know—”

“Who cares, you feel bad,” I said.

“Listen to you,” she said, sharply. “Koreans don’t say ‘who cares’ to their mothers. One day, you’ll have a daughter who treats you like you treat me.”

We rinsed ourselves with ginseng body wash. Then, we headed to the outside main room with an ondol-heated floor in our shirts and shorts. We entered the clay room and left after a short time. We crawled into a dome-shaped stone sauna and sat on the floor. My mother apologized. “You’re old enough to be my friend,” she said.

“You have a lot of friends.”

She said, “My friend from college, Hae Won. We tried to be news anchors.”

“News anchors?” I asked. “You never talked about it.”

“Because you see me now, but if you saw me then I was good, really.” She wiped her sweat off. She motioned for me to do the same. “My mother was good at everything.”

“Did you pass the audition?”

“I did,” my mother said, “but Hae Won didn’t.”

“And you became a news anchor?”

“No, Hae Won lied. She told me I didn’t pass either.”

“What?” I said. “That makes no sense.”

“My dad never let me out of the house. Hae Won checked the results for us and said that we didn’t make it. The broadcasting station was waiting. They called me to tell me they couldn’t wait any longer. After a month, they had hired somebody else.”

“Koreans don’t say ‘who cares’ to their mothers. One day, you’ll have a daughter who treats you like you treat me.”

“Are you still friends with her?” I asked.

“I am,” she said. “Two persimmons, getting old.”

“What—why?”

“Let’s drink something delicious,” my mother said.

She charged my sweet rice drink to her tab. The ice was refreshing in the hot rooms. I kept one cube under my tongue. My mother led me into the charcoal room. She poured water over the heated rocks in the corner. We shuffled onto the floor and sat facing one another.

“You know Hae Won? The one who lies?” my mother said after a silence. “I already told you that her daughter is a news anchor. Do you remember? We see her on TV. She has short hair and a button nose. She’s prettier in person. We watch her on variety shows and news broadcasts. I go to see Hae Won and we record them together. One time, this was in front of my friends, I asked if she thought my daughter could pass for a news anchor. Hae Won said my daughter’s face is too big for the screen. Your face needs to fit inside a CD disc to look good on television. From your forehead to your chin.”

I measured my face with my palm for the first time.

“How many people can cover their face with a disc?” she asked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be friends.”

“You think so?”

I nodded, but she disagreed.

“God is fair,” she said, and clasped our hands together. “Hae Won had a stroke. Half her face melted off, and it sags down past her chin. When she smiles, it bends into a sneer. You see, God is vengeful so we don’t have to be.”

At the end of our time at the bathhouse, I put on my coat and followed my mother into the parking garage where she fed her ticket into a machine. We drove home in silence. After we got out of the car, we went for a walk around the Tancheon tributary.

I worried about whether I ought to take off my coat or wear it casually on the walking path along the river. I feared my mother might admire me wearing it and express her satisfaction. But I felt it would be worse to put the coat away. When I asked my mother about her own mother, she said, “How fun would it have been if my mother was here with us? We would scrub each other’s backs, like baby monkeys sitting in a neat row.”

“She would be the most beautiful.”

My mother laughed. “She had a big face, but it was a beautiful big face. And she’d never let you leave the department store with just one coat. She would’ve bought you a dozen.” Then she tugged my sleeve. “If you ever get sick of wearing this, give it to me. I’ll save it for you, and one day, you’ll think about it and ask me for it. You’ll say, ‘Oh, that coat from then!’ When you put it on, you’ll feel like it’s brand new.”

“I feel refreshed,” I said. “Do I remind you of her?”

“Your brother tells me that you’re strong and you never cry,” my mother said. She smiled sadly. “You know how my mother is dead? Do you think she feels lonely?”

#ej koh #korean #korean american #asian american #memoir #poet

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katherinelhughes · 5 years

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Ireland Impressions

I just returned yesterday from a five-day trip to Ireland with my daughter, Isabelle. She is applying to grad schools, and this last summer I let her know that I had AAdvantage miles that needed to be used. I thought she might use them to travel to interviews, but it turns out that in the world of Biology, the schools pay for prospective students to come interview. I realized yet again that I chose a difficult field--as a free-lance professional violinist, I’ve gotten used to paying to play, so to speak... Anyway, she suggested that we take a trip to Ireland. She works in a lab with someone who had gone there on his honeymoon, and he had very enthusiastically recommended that she go.

Without going into a lot of detail, Isabelle had a run-in with a virulent virus (I know that’s redundant) in September. The virus caused some frightening seizures which resulted in two hospitalizations. We weren’t sure that we would be able to go on our trip, scheduled for the end of November. So when Isabelle got the okay from her doctors, it was excellent news, in many ways.

We had held off making hotel reservations, but fortunately the end of November is off-season in Ireland. Ordinarily I would have done a lot of research to decide where to visit and where to stay, but the last-minute nature of our planning made that impossible. Maybe the more spontaneous approach to this adventure made it more satisfying. Also, thanks to crowd-sourced reviews of everything on the internet, gone are the days of toting guidebooks around. Our last big trip was to Munich and environs--eight years ago--and we definitely did that the old-fashioned way.

Okay, I’ll get on with it. We actually had five full days in Ireland, bookended by two days of travel. The airline travel was unremarkable, which might be remarkable, now that I think of it. Our plan was to spend one night in Dublin, two nights in Galway, one night in Cork, and the last night back in Dublin.

Day One: Dublin

Our hotel was just south of the River Liffey in the City Centre. We took a cab there from the airport and dropped off our suitcases so we could immediately start exploring. On our way to see the library at Trinity College, we ran across a cool exhibit of art books at a gallery. A good start. At the library we learned that only a facsimile of the Book of Kells (the famous medieval manuscript) would be on display that week. Not a big deal, especially since the library itself was awe-inspiring. I overheard someone saying something about Harry Potter, and we learned that they had shot a library scene there. It was also featured in one of the later Star Wars movies. Did that make it more meaningful to me? I’m almost ashamed to admit that it may have... We also visited the Guinness Storehouse in the early evening. It’s described as a “brewery experience”. A bit too theme-parkish for my taste, but I definitely know more about the process of brewing beer in huge quantities! The top floor bar where we had our complimentary pint has a 360 degree view of the city. We had two great meals that day, both at pubs. I have a much different impression of what pub food is now--many vegetarian and even vegan options.

Day Two: Dublin to Galway

A few days before our trip, I literally awoke in a cold sweat about driving on the left side of the road. My colleague Catherine had given this advice, to be used as a mantra: drive on the left and look to the right. We were picking up the rental car, and I would be the only driver--Isabelle isn’t able to drive for six months from the time of the last seizure. The weather was pretty intense--driving rain and wind. I thought it was charming that so many people apologized for the weather. We had escaped just before a big snow in Chicago, so I kept assuring folks that we had seen worse! The driving challenge turned out to be my position on the right side of the car. It took me an entire day of Isabelle saying “Mom, you’re over the line!” to get used to centering the car in my lane. Driving on the left side wasn’t as weird as I had thought it would be. And I think the roundabouts are brilliant. They keep traffic flowing, and cause fewer accidents than traffic lights.

We had breakfast/early lunch at Tyrrellspass Castle, and continued on to another castle at Tullamore--Charleville. Evidently, they have an annual music festival there called Castlepalooza. They were shooting a rock video when we arrived, and we weren’t able to go in, but the drive up to it was downright magical. That was a word that kept popping into my head over and over. The rain and temperate climate cause the vegetation to be green, even in late November. That, along with the mist and ancient trees, conjured up images of fairy tale enchanted forests.

We decided that we would go directly to the Cliffs of Moher since it looked like it would be rainy the following day. The drive up there was pretty harrowing. We were on rural roads that narrowed without much notice, and I was still trying to hone my new driving skills. What a reward when we arrived though! The cliffs at the edge of the Atlantic are ruggedly breathtaking. Because it was off-season and relatively late in the day, there were very few tourists. And there were sheep grazing right next to the trails--even a proverbial black sheep. They are the “Shaun the Sheep” type with the black faces, and both Isabelle and I are big fans. It’s too bad that today I started thinking about the fact that they are livestock and not pets...

When I started the car at the Cliffs, two warning lights came on. We looked them up--Electronic Stabilization Control and Emission Control. I figured we could make it to Galway, but we knew we would have to address the issue the next day. Thankfully, we did get there with no trouble. Our hotel was once again in the City Centre. About a block away was a Christmas market with food stalls and some carnival rides. Before we left home, I had wondered how commercial Christmas would be in Ireland. We learned that decorations generally go up a day after Halloween, so I guess that the US isn’t the only place that extends the holiday to last over two months. But to us, everything looked so quaint suspended over cobblestone streets. There is also an upscale Irish department store, Brown Thomas, that does some wackily inventive holiday windows. In Galway, one featured a male mannequin with an owl’s head. We had another great dinner--excellent farm to table food and a vegan local beer.

Day Three: Galway

We finally had a chance to sleep in! Then, unfortunately, we had to drop the car at an Enterprise-approved car repair facility for diagnosis. It was very close to the City Centre, so we walked to the Fisheries Watchtower (museum) and the Galway Museum. The wind was fierce--equal to anything I’ve experienced in Chicago, but that weather was over by 2 PM or so. At the museum, we learned about the ancient and more recent history of the city, including the Irish uprising against the British. I know through 23andMe that my DNA makeup is 41% British and Irish, the largest percentage in the mix. 23andMe doesn’t specify English, Scottish, Welsh, or Irish--I’m probably all of the above. We're pretty sure that the Hughes name comes from Wales, and our background is pretty thoroughly Protestant. I grew up with the impression that the Reformation was a positive thing, and that the Protestants held the moral high ground. But in this phase of my political thinking, my belief is that religious differences have most often been used to justify` the lust for power and the control of natural resources and goods. I also just finished an amazing book on the trip--”Fantasyland: How America Went Haywire” by Kurt Andersen. The US was founded by some pretty crazy Protestants, and I can’t take much pride in the ways that they behaved. Anyway, the visit to Ireland has led me to wonder what my ancestors’ political roles were in these struggles for independence.

We had savory pie for lunch--mine was kale and wild mushroom, locally sourced again, with spelt flour crust. Isabelle and I agreed that it was our favorite meal of the trip. We had to go back to the car repair place, and they informed us that we needed to get a replacement vehicle. This gave us the opportunity to talk with the lovely young woman from the Enterprise facility in Galway, the longest conversation we had with any local on the trip. The replacement car was newer and better, and they gave us a free day’s rental, so it was a win-win-win situation! We briefly visited the gorgeous Galway Cathedral where a nice man let us in even though they had just officially closed. We also heard some Irish traditional music, and ate at yet another farm to table restaurant. Incidentally, the prices were really reasonable compared to Chicago prices for similar food.

Day Four: Galway to Cork

Isabelle figured that Limerick would be a great place to stop on our way to Cork. We ended up spending much more time there than we had planned. After a great mocha (my first time trying oat milk) and breakfast, we went exploring. There was a mostly ruined castle, King John’s Castle, that had an excellent museum component that inspired more rumination on the conflicts between the different factions in the British Isles. And very nearby was the 850 year old Cathedral of St. Mary. Very impressive to us Americans when we’re inside a building with that kind of history...

We decided to visit Blarney Castle on our way to Cork, and it was much more captivating, and much less touristy than I had imagined. As we approached the castle on foot, we passed signs that read “90 minutes to the Blarney Stone”, “60 minutes to the Blarney Stone” etc. We were once again grateful that we were there in the off-season. Our wait to kiss the Blarney Stone was...0 minutes! Yes, we did it. There are many stories about the Stone, but the most common is that it gives you the gift of gab, and not in a good way. But I figure I can use the gift of gab--everyone always tells me that I’m too quiet and very private. Wow--it may already be working, since I’m writing this long involved post about our vacation! Surrounding the castle is a gorgeous park that is truly a botanical garden, including a poison garden. That traditionally would have had medicinal plants that “will either kill you or cure you.” There were huge redwoods, oversized rhubarb plants, a spectacular fern garden with waterfall--magical, you might say!

We went on to Cork, found our B & B, and went into the City Centre for another excellent meal. We wandered around, figuring out what we wanted to do there the next morning. There was a large courtyard with a light display called “Glow” that was set to open the next day. Also a ferris wheel that seems to be a standard part of a Christmas market--who knew? Our B & B was pretty cool, but the woman who ran it seemed disappointed that we hadn’t opted for the breakfast part of the equation. We had our sights set on a coffee place we had seen on our reconnaissance mission...

Day Five: Cork to Dublin

We did go to the Bean and Leaf, and it was very near to the English Market that we planned to visit. The English Market is a covered food market that houses a huge variety of fresh grocery items. We wondered about the origins of the name, and found out that the English or Protestant Corporation that ran Cork untl the mid 1800′s founded it. It catered to a wealthy clientele while the Irish Market catered to the working class folk. Now, everyone goes there, and they have all of the super-trendy foods that you would find in an upscale grocery store in the states. We bought a few things there, walked around a bit more, and got in the car to head to our last big adventure.

Almost as ubiquitous as the sheep on the hillsides were the rainbows. We saw a few every day that we were driving, including a couple of double rainbows. The conditions were perfect--light rain, followed by the sun breaking through the clouds. Now I understand the whole leprechaun and pot of gold at the end of the rainbow image. They seem so...magical!

I think it was the vinyl record store we checked out in Cork that got us onto the subject of rock operas. On our next car ride we listened to Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”. It was one of the few times we listened to music in the car. Most of the time the British-accented Google Maps lady was telling us where to go--”take the slip-road on the left.” Thank goodness for Google Maps! It would have been difficult to navigate all of those one-way streets with me driving on the left, using an old-fashioned map... Anyway, it was a pretty long stretch on a main road to get us to our next destination: the Wicklow Mountains at Glendalough. The same mountain range extends into Dublin where they’re called the Dublin Mountains. It was astoundingly beautiful there--and the smells were so fresh and fragrant. We hiked a very short trail that took about 50 minutes, but it gave us the flavor of the park. We had lunch at the Glendalough Hotel. And that reminds me--many of our servers, especially in the Dublin area, were young Eastern Europeans. Evidently, Ireland is a very popular place to look for better job opportunities, and a better life in general. We did remark on the fact that we saw very few people of color though. I want to find out why that is the case. It does make me wonder about ethnic and religious homogeneity. Would I have felt such an affinity for Ireland if I weren’t white and culturally Christian?

On the way down the mountain and back to Dublin, we listened to “Thick as a Brick” by Jethro Tull. Isabelle had never heard it before. I thought it had an appropriately Celtic feel, and was loosely in the rock opera genre. We listened to a few Irish artists as we were making our way back into Dublin in Friday evening traffic. We checked into our last hotel, did a bit of last-minute souvenir shopping, and ate at a pub with live music. The two musicians played mostly traditional Irish music, but also included a few American tunes. It was kind of a fitting transition since we would be heading to the airport in the morning.

I am so grateful that Isabelle was well enough that we could make this trip. She was a great traveling companion, and our energy levels were very well matched. We shared a similar idea of the optimum balance between planning and spontaneity. I’m not sure how to wrap this up except to say: Travel with your adult children! Go to Ireland in the off-season! Enjoy the rainbows!

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colanah · 7 years

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Dream Diary: Entry 3

Of Flowers, M.A.S.H., Dragons and Dinosaurs

The dream began viewing myself asleep on the ratty leather sofa from the home in which I grew up. That’s often a sign to me that the dream will contain stressful elements since home means safety. It’s a reoccurring pattern in most of the dreams I’ve had all my life.

I was sleeping, likely taking a nap while my family went about various activities at home. Mama was cooking, I think my little brother was playing a video game nearby on one of the armchairs. I couldn’t see my eldest brother but sensed he was home as was my little sister. From

From viewing myself, I drew closer and closer to my own body until passing into it and like the curtains of a stage parting wide, I saw darkness give way to a lovely illumination.

Flowers & Dragons:

It was a wide, impossibly gorgeous field beneath a crystal clear sky dotted with a few clouds. A picturesque scene made all the more surreal because of a battle being waged in the center. Men in armor of chain and helmets were battling monsters and what looked to be a thick root of a knotted vine thick and tall as a sequoia. It was a budding, I knew that. Or the man nearby was saying ‘they’re fighting a bud.

I don’t know where he came from but it’s a dream. These things happen.

Soon enough, I found myself entering a kingdom right out of a fantasy novel. Colorful rooftops, intriguing peasantry and somehow, I was nabbed to join the fighters. It turns out that they needed able-bodied individuals and were glad to have t he stories of a stranger. I’m not sure how they figured I was competent enough to fight but they did.

Among the Knights of this realm was a red haired woman who wore the color blue. An elf who looked like Legolas’ cousin. It turns out he was a representative of a silver dragon in the realm but rather controversial as once, his dragon had been gold before his Flowering. There were other knights. A dark haired man who wore white and red like a Templar, an older gent in green and white and me, dubbed the Lady of Dusk.

Through the dream, I learned the history fo that realm. That the people had lived peacefully until a star fall which brought the first buds from heaven like a calamity. Since then, creatures had appeared, as much plant as an animal, some vaguely human but all murderous. The realms had found these beasts and beings difficult to combat but in nearly all places, a Champion had arisen or arrived, gifted with seemingly impossible abilities that let them face those foes.

The elf was a curiosity because of his dragon friend, a spirit or creature, which had changed colors and temperament after the buds fell. Where once the golden dragon of his town (I hate that I can never remember the names of things from the dreams) had been aloof but benevolent, this silver version wished to battle and his people feared for its life.

The strange man who’d mentioned the bud to me initially recited this history of sorts. It seems he was the only person trying to document everything happening while others felt it better to fight and survive. The buds came from spores of large flowering grottos but if they fell on a creature, it was possible the animal would mutate and warp. “What the people don’t know, is that the budded creatures and their champions are one in the same. Each knight you see passed through a flower. The buds are seeds, undeveloped and wild. Most plants will create an environment to bloom safely. The (unrecallable name) flower fashions a nest of vines and once the inside is safe, its flowers change colors and do naught but bloom and bloom and bloom. The poor things they’re fighting ran into those vines so they’re fighting to keep the center safe. Our Knights passed through the center of such nests I bet. They encountered the safer flowers and gained powers, but not a one will say where or how.”

M.A.S.H. Up

After his explanation, I went to the castle with the others because some horror was coming and the towering structure was the safest place to be. Inside, it was like a cathedral, full of high stairs and dark secret corners. Here, I ran into Hawkeye and Radar. Radar had been asked what the phrase ‘those idiots’ meant and in his nervous way, he explained it meant the officers.When pressed by Burns as to who taught him that word, Radar sheepishly pointed the finger to Hawkeye.

Well, that just pissed off the officers in question, Burns and Houlihan. As a punishment upped Hawkeye’s rank. He was now an Officer’s Officer and heaped with all kinds of responsibilities which being Hawkeye, he hated. Hated and tried desperately to sabotage to stick it to the man.

Yes, I’m aware he had at least a rudimentary respect for some rules and was an officer himself, but it’s a dream. Where’s logic in those?

Well, that dream segment ended when Hawkeye was sabotaging a test for the new recruits by making the questions into a cipher that had the answers built into them! Houlihan, of course, caught on and was going to bust him when The Beast broke through the outer walls and both M.A.S.H. officers....who were also Knights, had to race out to help fight it.

It was around this point that wakefulness started edging in and a sleepy dream me was being told it was time to go to the mall to pick up an outfit. My little brother was feeding his pet brontosaurus which had mistaken my braids for leaves and we were trying to get my hair untangled from its teeth. Somehow, the creature was huge and yet small enough to fit in a split level home.

We left him at home since he said he wanted to play his game to beat the next level as well as keep the dinosaur company. We arrived at the mall at night and of course, things were closed. That’s when I met The Bitch.

Divas and Opera Day:

The mall wasn’t simply the usual storied encapsulation of businesses, but also a kind of entertainment venue built in. Today was Opera day and each store within had a theme for Phantom of the Opera. Marble twisting staircases, crystal chandeliers, candelabras and stone pillars were more a feature of this high-class store than plain escalators and foam mannequins.

As I said though, the mall was closed. Just then, a pretty young Korean woman approached the guard and through a combination of flirting and low-grade bullying, managed to get my family inside to shop. We hit a high-class plus-sized boutique and the owner, another fabulously dressed Korean woman, said they were closed.

Well, the diva who had decided to help us, again used her skills to get the store opened and my mother and me inside where a young Latin woman was working and offered to help. Diva and store owner were elsewhere and the Diva kept trying to reassure my mother that the bill would be covered since she added my name to some documents that...sounded suspiciously like forgery to me.

Typically, I scoff at high end Plus Size stores since they rarely have anything in my style. And this was no different. Matronly blouses, plain skirts, and tops with unimaginative designs. Tents and drapery. Nothing embroidered, batiked or with a hint of pixie flare.

It took ages to find even a handful of outfits that looked passable and when we purchased them, it was the manager herself who rung us up. she was being unusually nice and from the smile on the Diva’s face, I got the feeling some flim-flam had taken place. Once our items were purchased, the Diva turned into a rude and snippy thing at the owner, causing the poor woman to look on the verge of tears.

My Southern can’t abide rudeness so with a glare to the newly dubbed Bitch, I apologized and we all departed to get some food. Downstairs, the mall was getting ready to open f or the day. Dancers and actors in costume paraded around to practice miniature acts to entertain customers who began to arrive. We went to a small bar and grill to eat. That’s when waking really began to intrude in the form of thirst and basic necessities. I’d excused myself from an argument with the Bitch about why she couldn’t just use my name to get stuff, to grab a drink and...that’s when I woke up.

#yes i have active dreams.

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nalufever · 7 years

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A Girl Worth Fighting For

Prompt: White Day ~ A Girl Worth Fighting For Pairing: Nalu (can't resist) Rating: fluffy Word count: 1646 'A Girl Worth Fighting For'

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Summary: Natsu navigates unspeakable horrors to win Lucy's love ~ or ~ Natsu goes shopping, looking for the perfect white day gift.

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A fun little drabble exchange for White Day tagging @impracticaldemon @ff-darkshininglight @cheer-chan @magerain @rizzy09

"Happy, are you sure this is the best department store in Magnolia?" Natsu craned his head up to look at the fancy lettering on the big glass windows. "Hudson's Em - poor - e - um? Doesn't look that great. You sure this the best one?"

"Well yeah, lookit all the stuff in the windows!" Happy gestured to the fancy display of mannequins wearing the latest Heart Kreuz fashions. "Mira and Erza love this place!"

"But will I find Lucy the perfect gift here? She's not like other girls."

"Yeah, she's weird." The exceed chortled and flew out of reach. "But you're getting just as weird as her, worrying about finding a white day gift. Give her fish!"

Natsu shook his head. "If you're not gonna help you can leave."

"I wouldn't miss this for all the fish in the river."

Putting his worries aside for the moment, Natsu strode up to the double doors and entered Hudson's Emporium. Clothes, shoes, handbags and luggage were on the immediate left; on the right were displays of sporting equipment, kitchenware and lamps.

Natsu wandered aimlessly, Happy trailing behind him giving a constant stream of poor advice. "Ooh! Buy her a vacuum! How 'bout hip waders? Gym membership? Lookit that muumuu, maybe they have one in her size."

Natsu glared at his exceed. "Oi! I said if you're not gonna help you could leave!"

His usual shit-eating grin in place, Happy responded. "I never said I was gonna help - I said I wouldn't miss this for all the fish in the river!"

An announcement blared over the public address system: "White Day Special Sale next to the food department starting in five minutes."

With shining eyes and hope reborn in his heart, Natsu let go of Happy. "Lucy loves food!"

Rubbing his sore neck, Happy coughed. "That's one thing we can agree on, she loves greasy food!"

They joined the torrents of men rushing to the back of the store also intent on procuring the perfect White Day gift for their special lady. In between the food and millinery departments was a long table bedecked with a blinding white tablecloth. Upon it was a dazzling selection of white items; from marshmallows and white chocolate to candles, coffee cups and lingerie - all astonishingly white.

All the men trudged closer beginning to paw the merchandise. And once the P.A. system squawked alerting them to a time limit they began to toss through the sale items with terrible haste.

Natsu had never been subjected to such indignities before. As a mage of incredible power and wild disregard for personal safety and the subtleties of personal space, Natsu had never, ever been elbowed in a brouhaha over merchandise. Each man was desperately digging, searching for a cheap yet stylish and hopefully beloved gift for their special someone.

Happy flew overtop and dive-bombed the now swarming group of men pawing the selection of marshmallows, candles and skimpy night attire. Competition got fiercer. A fist-fight broke out over a set of mugs emblazoned with a cheesy 'love' print. Three men were sprawled on the marble floor - tussling over a package containing white slippers, a nighty and robe.

Shouted threats, kicks and thrown elbows kept Natsu off balance. He had never seen non-mages act like guild members before - it was more than a little off-putting. Finally his frozen state broke. Natsu dove into the throng with a battle cry worthy of Erza fighting for the last piece of strawberry cake. He searched with single-minded aim, finding and discarding novelty knickers embroidered with a suggestion he almost burst into flames just reading. The candles were a bit tempting, but not nice enough he decided. Marshmallows were 'meh', the chocolate too similar to what he'd received, the nightwear was all too nosebleed inducing and the mugs were honestly ugly.

The same voice emerged from the speakers: "Final five minutes left in our White Day Special Sale!"

The table of sale items was now engulfed in a writhing sea of desperate men still seeking the perfect purchase to please their girlfriends. Intent on one final item he'd had yet to examine, Natsu was taken unawares by two people playing tug of war with a large box. The smaller of the two men fighting head-butted his opponent who then stumbled backwards, grabbed at the table trying to keep upright, and flung a white metal trivet as he fell - which happened to conk Natsu on his forehead, knocking him out. Happy dragged his friend under the table, hiding from the melee. He lightly slapped Natsu's face and when that didn't work, he put some muscle into it. Natsu roused ten minutes later as the special event table was being put away - the saleslady and her two assistants screaming were the perfect wake-up call.

A bit groggy and now with a dully pounding headache, Natsu ran with Happy as the three shop workers yelled 'pervert' at the top of their lungs.

Down a corridor and then up a set of stairs they found a quiet corner of the store. More than a little depressed and despondent Natsu sighed and confided in Happy. "That was my last hope. White Day is tomorrow and I don't have the slightest idea of what to get Lucy."

"Let's have a snack!" Happy tugged Natsu by the hand to a set of café tables and chairs. "Hudson's has the best tako-yaki in town."

"Maybe food with help me think." Natsu slumped into a seat. "I just wanted to give her something as nice as she is." Picking at the food Happy brought back, Natsu ate slowly and sparingly. "The sale is over and I don't know what to do."

"We won't leave until you find something."

"You're the best, buddy!"

<><><><><><>

To mark the special occasion, Natsu entered the apartment building on Strawberry Street using the ground floor entrance after reminding Happy he had is own special gift to deliver to Charle. Natsu trudged up the flights of stairs clutching Lucy's gift, wrapped in white paper and silver ribbon. It wasn't as flashy as some of the gifts he'd seen available, nor as sexy as the underwear - but upon seeing it, he'd known his search was over.

Knuckles poised over the door, the slayer paused. Natsu took a few deep calming breaths and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He knocked and waited, shifting the parcel from under one arm to the other.

The door opened showing Lucy's welcoming face becoming confused. "What are you doing?"

Natsu grinned. "Is that how you greet a guest? Weirdo."

"I don't think I've ever seen you use the door - or wait for me to let you in - or -" Lucy went silent as she saw the gift - and more importantly - the gift tag that bore her name in big swooping letters. "Come in."

Natsu remembered his uncertainty over his gift and his swagger lost a lot of his strut. He covered up his lapse in poise by setting down the gift box on the coffee table and dropping into his usual spot on Lucy's couch. Natsu clasped his fingers together and puffed air, blowing the unruly lock of hair that covered one eye out of the way.

"What happened?" Lucy couldn't stop herself from leaning over close from her seat and gently tracing over the band-aid over his eyebrow, full of concern for her best friend. "Does it hurt?"

His cheeks coloured a dull pink, clashing with his hair. "Nothin'. An' it only hurts a little bit."

"You have to take care of yourself you know."

"Yeah - but it was for a good reason." He gave Lucy a timid smile. "Remember those chocolates you made for me?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "I remember."

"Please accept this." Natsu snatched up the box and thrust it at Lucy. "It's not one of the traditional recommended gifts, but as soon as I saw it I wanted you to have it."

"…" Lucy took hold of the proffered box. "Thank you." She smiled and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "You didn't have to get me anything. I did hope but I wasn't expecting." Lucy stared at the pretty white paper with silver ribbon on her lap and traced her name on the card.

"Open it." Eagerness coloured Natsu's voice as he encouraged Lucy. "I saw it and thought of you."

Lucy plucked the card off the gift and set it aside on the table (that was going into her scrapbook later). Lucy tugged on the ribbon and set that beside the tag. Using her nails she slit the tape all around the box lid. Slowly she prised off the lid and sat silent. Natsu had given her a selection of pens, ink and a leather bound notebook in the creamiest pale yellow colour.

She blinked, set the gift down on the table and held out her hands to Natsu who was holding his breath as he tried to figure out if Lucy was pleased. Her eyes sparkled and in that instant Natsu knew Lucy was happy. He lunged forward hugging her; wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, breathing in calming air. "I'm so glad you like it!"

"Yeah, I like …it…and you."

Natsu nodded, then realized Lucy couldn't see that - he needed to speak. "I know, or else you wouldn't have taken so much time and care to make those chocolates."

Lucy blushed. "This is a very thoughtful gift, but it's much more than three times the value of what I gave you. You didn't -"

"Don't be such a weirdo." Natsu pulled back so he could see Lucy's face. He looked into her eyes as he rubbed his forehead. "You're worth it, and never let it be said you're not a girl worth fighting for."

#white day #nalu #ftfanfics #teen #fluffy

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miraculouspaon · 7 years

Text

A Wolf by the Ear

Chapter Three

AO3

The first time Hawkmoth kissed the signature upon her back, Nathalie laughed.

“Bit of an egotist, are we?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” Hawkmoth murmured, his lips still over the spot on Nathalie’s shoulder blade where his name began.

Nathalie rolled her eyes. “I think I have some idea.”

It became something of an addiction. Before he’d drop his transformation, before the lights were extinguished, Hawkmoth would remove Nathalie’s blouse, he’d kiss his way down from her neck to her back, he’d trace a gloved finger over the mark. At first it simply amused Nathalie, but it wasn’t long before she began to crave it as much as he did. Nathalie still felt no need to know the name on her back-she was far too much of a self-preservationist for that-but it gnawed just a little, that she had changed in some fundamental way she wasn’t permitted to see. Feeling Hawkmoth’s fingertip trace her mark, re-writing his name, that was the closest Nathalie came to seeing the signature for herself. She found she loved every little hint it gave her. The first letter was a big round one, an ‘O’ or something like it. He drew it fat and spent more time on it than all the letters that followed combined. The rest of them he wrote fast and skinny, with a sharp up-and-down motion, but clearly still with the utmost precision.

Hawkmoth returned to it in the dark one night, long after they’d ceased any activity save holding one another. Nathalie had almost fallen asleep-he’d begun staying until she fell asleep-when she felt the familiar tracing along her back, although this time with an ungloved hand.

“Have you memorized it, then?” she asked, her voice groggy. “Or are you just guessing, just imagining it in the dark?”

“Neither,” her soulmate replied, after a pause. “I’m looking at it. I brought a penlight.”

Nathalie snorted. “Of course you did. Next time bring something we can both enjoy, why don’t you?” He kissed her shoulder in response, murmured some apology, but Nathalie had given herself an idea, and she turned to him.

“What?”

“I want to see yours,” she said. Instantly, every muscle in Hawkmoth’s body tensed.

“No,” he said immediately.

“It’s hardly fair. You’ve seen both of them, I’m not allowed to look at mine, the least you can do is let me see yours.”

“It’s not possible,” Hawkmoth replied stiffly.

“Of course it is,” Nathalie said, impatient. “Turn over, hand me the penlight, and I’ll take this stupid blindfold off and look at it. You think I’ll recognize you from the sight of your upper back? If I’ve seen your upper back before, that makes the number of people you might be much, much smaller than I’d previously assumed.”

“I think that light might accidentally stray where it oughtn’t.”

“I suppose the back of your head is terribly recognizable, is it?” Nathalie asked, rolling her eyes beneath the blindfold. “I could cover your head with a pillow if you like,” she suggested. “Then I won’t risk seeing anything I could identify. I won’t pretend that’s something I haven’t been dying to do anyway.”

Hawkmoth let out a low chuckle, then a sigh, and a few seconds later Nathalie felt the penlight pressed into her hand. Hawkmoth rolled over, and she placed the pillow over his head before pushing up the silk around her eyes. The penlight gave off a very weak light, but it was enough to make out the mark if Nathalie held it right up to the man’s back.

Nathalie Sancoeur

For better or worse, the universe had marked this man as hers. The sight wasn’t exactly the turn-on for Nathalie that it obviously was for her soulmate, but she’d be lying if she said she completely failed to see the appeal.

Gingerly, Nathalie traced a finger over the letter ‘N’, and beneath her fingertip Hawkmoth shuddered.

~~~

The problem was, there were parts of Nathalie’s brain she couldn’t turn off. Her emotions, yes, those she could banish as she pleased. Her entire life, she’d figured that was more than enough. She’d figured that was the only part of herself that might get her into trouble. It never occurred to her to worry about her analytical mind.

What if I just walked right into that police station over there, she thought to herself one afternoon, in the middle of running errands, and announced that Hawkmoth’s identity was written on my back? He wouldn’t sense it, not if I did it from a purely rational frame of mind.

Or, What if I just took my shirt off right here, in the middle of this crowded sidewalk? What if I shouted for the world to hear that it was a supervillain’s name on my back? There’s always somebody ready to film whatever happens in this city, always somebody ready with a smartphone, eager to document the next akuma attack. Even if Hawkmoth showed up in five seconds, he would be too late.

What if I took a trip? His range can’t be infinite, after all. What if I just picked a direction and kept driving, what then. What then.

But Nathalie didn’t do any of those things. She just kept on living her life, feeling a little more guilty with each new akuma that terrorized the city, until Hawkmoth finally commented on it.

“You know I feel everything you feel,” he reminded her one evening. “I’m not used to feeling guilt during an attack, even via proxy.”

“So stop attacking,” Nathalie replied.

“Oh, don’t worry. It should be irritating, I’ll grant, but somehow I find it oddly charming.” And then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and she forgot for a little while, what it was that she was doing, what game she was playing.

She always remembered in the morning, though.

~~~

The attacks did slow down, Nathalie had to admit. Three to four times a week became twice a week, then once a week. Nathalie couldn't tell if her guilt was actually getting through to the villain, or if he did it out of some concern for her mental health, or fear that her conscience would finally snap if he kept on at his former pace. Or maybe it was none of those things, maybe he was just distracted by whatever it was that they had. Maybe whatever it was inside of him that drove him to akumatize in the first place was changing.

“Why?” she asked him one night, handing him the glass of wine she’d already poured in anticipation of his arrival. He understood her meaning immediately.

“That's the million euro question, isn't it?” he replied.

“You're forgetting I work for one of the richest men in Europe,” Nathalie said. “I deal with million euro questions on an hourly basis.”

Hawkmoth laughed. “I suppose I did forget that, yes.”

“Really, though. Why? Is it just power for its own sake, or is there something more to it?” Hawkmoth didn't respond. “Oh, come on. It can't be that embarrassing. I'm your soulmate, I'm sure I'll be perfectly understanding. I'll hardly roll my eyes at all. Unless it's angst over a tragically murdered wife, then I might have to roll my eyes.”

“No,” Hawkmoth replied calmly, “it's not that. My wife is very much still alive.”

To his surprise, Nathalie immediately began laughing. She had put her own glass down, had to lean against her kitchen countertop for support, and she didn't stop for a good minute or so. “Of course you're married,” she finally said. “Why wouldn't you be? What on earth does she think of your second life as a supervillain? Or our little arrangement?”

“I’ll be sure to ask her,” Hawkmoth replied, “if I ever see her again.”

Nathalie sobered. “Ah,” she said. She glanced at the villain. He didn't seem particularly grieved at this reveal. It wasn’t as simple as wanting the woman back, Nathalie was sure of that, but she had a feeling she’d hit upon the outer layer of the mystery that was Hawkmoth. Nathalie gave up her line of questioning, not wanting to press her luck.

~~~

The beginning of the end came unexpectedly, and with little fanfare.

Nathalie was by herself. Ostensibly she was running an errand, but Mr. Agreste was more demanding than usual that day, so Nathalie was taking her time completing her task before heading back to the mansion. She was slowly making her way through a department store, headed for the exit, when a blouse caught her eye.

It was nothing like Nathalie ever wore. Loose and draping and clearly dreadfully expensive, the red chiffon dropped low in the front and even lower in the back. Nathalie marveled that it stayed on the mannequin at all, that the light breeze created by the people walking by didn’t blow it right off. Nathalie grabbed one off the nearby rack and held it up. It was the kind of blouse a very certain kind of woman wore, Nathalie felt. The kind of woman who had both wealth and a soulmate, and who felt secure in neither. At least, that was how Nathalie had felt before getting a mark of her own. Now, though, well…

Nathalie knew she could never wear such a thing around others, but she let herself imagine wearing it at home. Imagine the look on her lover’s face when he appeared suddenly and saw her in it, when he believed for a split second she might have been wearing it in public where anyone could see. Nathalie grinned to herself, imagining the heart attack that would give him. God, wouldn’t that serve him right? Maybe he’d drop dead right there, and Nathalie would get a medal for defeating him. But more likely he’d just realize she was teasing him, of course. And he’d be angry, he’d be consumed with a need to tease her right back somehow-

“May I put that in a dressing room for you, Mademoiselle?” a saleswoman asked Nathalie, reaching for the blouse. “There’s no need to carry it around with you while you’re making other selections.”

“Hmm?” Nathalie said, snapping out of her daydream. “Oh… oh, no, I won’t be looking around, thank you.”

“Just trying this on, then? Very well, I’ll show you to-”

“I’m not trying anything on,” Nathalie interrupted. The young woman frowned.

“I couldn’t let you buy this without trying it on first,” she said apologetically, “the size runs a bit irregular, and I’m afraid we have a no-return policy-”

“That’s fine, I won’t be purchasing it.” Before the poor woman could protest, Nathalie had abruptly handed her the blouse, turned around, and began walking brusquely towards the exit.

Once outside, Nathalie took a slightly shaky breath and let it out. It had taken her a second to remember why she couldn’t be in dressing rooms anymore, with their mirrors on every wall and their prying assistants, and that was a second too long, she felt. Once again, Nathalie had gotten distracted, careless, and almost endangered the freedom of another person. Nathalie leaned against the outside of the building and thought to herself for a few minutes. Considered, hard, where she was in life, and where she wanted to be. Where she’d been trying to get, and where she’d actually gotten. Nathalie made up her mind and continued walking.

~~~

Nathalie Sancoeur bought a stopwatch. As suicide attempts went, it was at least an original beginning.

Nathalie brought it home, only glancing over her shoulder once or twice as she did so. She took the thing out of its wrapping and verified that it was working. She sat on her bed, took a deep breath, and pressed the START button.

Then Nathalie began to think about how much she wanted to look at the name on her back. How much she was dying to know. She dove headfirst into the curiosity she’d spent a decade stamping out. It was almost dizzying, allowing those feelings, pushing herself to have them, after so long. She let that curiosity wash over her entire body.

“What do you think you’re-” Hawkmoth appeared out of thin air, as Nathalie had been expecting, and stopped mid-sentence, cut off by the loud and insistent beep of the stopwatch.

“Twenty-four seconds,” Nathalie reported, her emotions once more in check.

“What…” Hawkmoth furrowed his brow, confused for a moment before he realized what had just happened. “Were you testing me?”

“Your response time, yes. It is, I hope you realize, woefully inadequate. Twenty-four seconds is more than enough time to-”

Hawkmoth snatched the stopwatch out of Nathalie’s hand and crushed it in his fist before tossing the broken pieces of it to the floor. “What. Were. You. Thinking?” he demanded. “Don’t you ever, ever do anything like-”

“I’m tired,” Nathalie interrupted. Her voice was soft, her emotions as muted as ever, but there was a weariness that Hawkmoth noticed, that he suddenly realized had already been there for quite some time now.

“Of… of this?” he asked. “Of us?”

“Yes. Aren’t you? We started a relationship in the middle of a standoff. We tell ourselves that we’re keeping each other in check, but we aren’t. If you suddenly decide to lock me up forever, I can’t see it coming fast enough to stop it. If I decide to go to the police, you can’t see that coming fast enough either. It’s just a question of who pulls the trigger first, isn’t it?”

Hawkmoth sat down next to her, considering this for a while. “I doubt this will surprise you,” he finally said, “but there are a great many fictions I tell myself in order to live the life I want. Can’t we keep telling ourselves this one?”

Nathalie shook her head. “I feel as though I’m dancing at the edge of a cliff,” she whispered, “and the longer I’m with you, the harder it is to remember why it would be a bad idea to fall.”

“I see.” They sat in silence for a while.

“Why did you even approach me?” Nathalie asked. “Why not just ignore it? Why take the risk to begin with?”

Instead of answering, Hawkmoth stood. “I’ll go,” he said. “I won’t come back.”

“Thank you.”

Gently, Hawkmoth reached down and took Nathalie’s hand in his own. Lifting it up, he kissed the back of her hand.

And then he was gone.

~~~

That should have been the end of it.

It might have been the end of it, too, if Nathalie had been slightly less observant.

“Your schedule for the day, sir,” Nathalie said as she entered her boss’ office two weeks later, handing Mr. Agreste her tablet just as she did every morning. He’d been watching the latest finance report on television, and he left it on as he looked over the schedule. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow.

“Where’s the conference call with our fabric suppliers? It was set for this afternoon the last time I checked.”

“Had to be moved to tomorrow, sir. They’re dealing with a sudden crisis at one of the factories. I did inform you yesterday, sir.”

“Very well. You have the overview of the latest senior designs for the eveningwear line?”

“Right here, sir,” Nathalie said, handing over the folder in question along with his preferred red pen. She stood next to him patiently as he began flipping through it, making occasional marks and notes as he went.

The finance report ended a few minutes later, and a news segment on the latest akuma attack began. Nathalie had already seen an earlier report on it last night, it wasn't news to her, but she felt a tightness in her chest, a sudden fierce longing. Mr. Agreste’s gaze flickered toward her for a moment, the briefest flash of concern. Nathalie mentally shook herself off, careful not to give any outward sign of her inner life. She'd gotten herself back on track, hadn't that been her goal all along? To have her normal life again, to forget about soulmates and supervillains? Maybe her life was small, maybe it wouldn't have been fulfilling to some people, sure, but Nathalie liked it, and…

And…

And Mr. Agreste had looked at her.

Gabriel Agreste, of all people, had just looked at her with pity in his eyes.

And that was damning enough, really, wasn’t it?

But if it wasn't, there was the clear fact that he'd done it in response to absolutely no stimuli save for Nathalie’s private emotional state.

A cold terror gripped Nathalie’s heart all of a sudden. And it deepened as she realized he could sense that, too, by now he'd realized his mistake, he was still looking at the overview like nothing had happened but he knew that she knew. Any moment now he was going to stop pretending, he was going to realize that Nathalie was not fooled, was not telling herself she was imagining things, was not talking herself out of the conclusion she’d reached.

In less than a second, Nathalie’s mind raced through all her options and picked the best one. She'd grown accustomed, after all, to being in the company of an empath. She'd put herself in the habit of acting before she had time to emotionally register the decision, to prevent him from seeing it coming.

Nathalie Sancoeur punched Gabriel Agreste in the face as hard as she could, and then she whirled around and ran for her life.

#a wolf by the ear #ml fanfic #hawknath #nathalie sancoeur #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #gabenath

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thatrangabirdlife · 6 years

Text

Unpretty - Drunk or drugged Side Story

Her name was Amelia. She lived in Toorak. Her dad was a millionaire who worked for some big international company. So during the second week, Amelia invited me over for a sleepover one weekend. I told my dad and asked him if I could go. “Where does she live?” he asked. “Toorak." I replied. His eyes lit up. “Oh! What’s the street name?” he asked in a jovial tone as he pulled out the Melways to look up the address. We’d driven around Toorak before. Sometimes on the way to or from the city, would drive past all the big beautiful houses. I’d point one and and my dad would guess how much they were worth. “What do you reckon that one’s worth?” I’d ask. “Hmm, it doesn’t have a big gate...probably $700” He’d say with the hundred thousand implied. “What about this one?” I’d ask again. His whistle, that could be interpreted and translated in different ways, usually meaning ‘a great or vast amount’. “That’s definitely over a mil”. My dad was pretty good a guessing things. When we would be out grocery shopping, I would give him a piece of fruit, he would move it around in his hand, throw it up slightly a couple of times and guess the weight. “Hmmm.. 300gm.” He’d say. I’d run over to the scales that hung over the piles of fruit and veg and place the fruit in there and sure enough, it would be 300gm. He was only every off by 10 or so grams. ‘The stem must have fallen off.’ he’d say if he got it wrong.

That weekend, Dad drove me to Amelia’s. We counted the houses until we reached which one was theirs. He whistled. ‘Private gate’ he said. “Whattya reckon it costs?” I asked? “Let’s see when we get inside!” He said We rang the doorbell from the gate. A voice came out. “Hello?” “Hello” my dad said in a clear voice. “Can you hear me?” He asked, not knowing if he was supposed to press on of the buttons. “Yes, I can here you. I can see you too.’ Said the voice. My dad’s eyes darting around for a camera. “Come on in.” We heard a buzzing sound, and the gate slowly begun to open and we both whistled simultaneously.

Amelia and her parents were standing at the double front door and welcomed us into the entrance that was the size of our dining room, kitchen and lounge room together. The staircase winded upstairs along the wall like something I’d only ever seen in the movies. My dad an I stood there speechless, trying to keep our cool and that seeing a house like this was nothing out of the norm. The parents talked and I heard my dad say that he would be around at 11am the following day to pick me up. I ran up the giant staircase and stopped halfway around and looked down at my dad and waved goodbye. The expression on his face said ‘Please God please, stay friends with this one!’ But that wouldn’t happen. Amelia showed me to her room, or rooms should I say. Her bedroom, as in the room that her 4 post mahogany queen bed was in.

I stopped at the door. “Would you like me to take my shoes off before I come in?” I asked politely. “Um, if you want? Why?” She asked. “I have to take my shoes off before walking on the carpet at my house. Incase my shoes are dirty?” I said. “Oh, don’t worry about that” she exclaimed. “We have a cleaner," She said brazenly . "Oh you mean like a vacuum cleaner?" I said. "No, a cleaner. Someone that cleans our house." She replied and rolled her eyes while she turned back to walked into her room. I stepped foot on that carpet with my shoe on - I felt like I was doing something wrong. Plus I knew that if it made a mess, that I would be responsible for the cleaner having to clean up after me. So I tiptoed onto the carpet instead. “You can put your bag here” She said, gesturing to a spot next to her mahogany tall boy that matched her Mahogany Queen Sized bed. “I’m going to take my shoes off anyway” I announced. “Okayyy” she said with that 14 year old ‘you’re weird’, kind of tone. I sat down and basked in the sheer height of the ceilings and gazed upon the ornate crown moulding that lined the edges. I stood back up and I felt my feet sink slightly into the carpet. I’d never felt anything like it. “Is this brand new carpet?!” I asked “No?” she said in the same tone as she said ‘Okayyy’. “Feels new. It's so soft and bouncy. ” I said as I bounced gently on the spot. “That’s your bed?” I asked “Yeahhh??” She said again in the same confused tone. “What you don’t have a bed?” She asked. “Ofcourse I have a bed, but not a frame! My parents don’t even have a bed like this!” I told her. “Can I sit on it?” I asked. “Knock yourself out” She said. I pulled the thick, heavy doona back and it made the same sound as the display beds in Myer. (Homegoods was on the top level of the department store, as was the counter for the Lay-by section.) “Wow! Is this goose or duck feathers?” I asked in excitement. “My dad just got a duck quilt off layby. He says goose is the best, but in some cases a high quality duck down can be better than a goose down.” I proudly said, as if I were imparting knowledge on her. “I don’t know and I don’t really care. “Why are you asking all these weird questions?” She jumped up onto the bed and sat directly on the doona. “What are you doing!?” I shrieked. You’re not supposed sit on a feather doona! You’ll damage the feathers!!” She laughed “You’re funny. Let’s go hang out in my TV room.” “You’re TV room?” I repeated in disbelief.

She slid off the bed and walked to another door. While her back was turned I quickly fluffed the doona back up to save the feathers. She stood in front of another set of double doors, that slid to each side and unveiled another room that was just as big as her actual bed room. An entire wall showcasing a collection of CD’s and DVD’s. Behind that wall was her own ensuite bathroom. She had a reasonable sized TV, but not as big and as good as the ones I’d seen in Myer, but bigger than the one colour TV that we had at home. She walked behind her computer desk and and began typing away at her very own laptop” “Whoa, you’ve got laptop?!” I said, wide eyed.

“Yeah, but it’s piece of shit I’m getting the latest Sony one soon.” She said. I knew the one she was talking about, I’d seen the commercial. Soon after Her mum walked into the room dressed in same type of clothes that I’d seen on the mannequins in Myer. Her lipstick, a deep maroon, matched the colour of her purse and high heels, or stilettos I should say. I had recently learnt at the modelling school. Not a single hair on her head was out of place, nor did it move. I imagined the amount of hairspray that would have been used to keep it all in place.

“We’re leaving now Amelia. You girls have fun.” her mum said. “Bye” Amelia said, without even look up from her laptop & her mum walked out. “They’re going out?” I asked. Did my dad know that we were going to be unsupervised? Surely not. “Yeah, they’ll probably be back tomorrow. Hey you want a beer?” Tomorrow? I thought. “Uhh a beer?” I asked hesitantly. “What you’ve never had a beer before?” she asked in a seemingly judgemental tone. “Of course I’ve tried one before.’ I lied. “I’ll get you one” She said as she came out from behind her desk and walked out of the bedroom. I remember feeling so stupid and now nervous. ‘Why couldn’t you just say no? Now you have to drink it or else it will be rude. What if dad finds out that we were unsupervised AND drinking! “Here” she said, as she handed me the brown glass bottle of beer. I didn’t even recognize the label from the commercials on TV. This one had a red and purple label, with the word ‘MOONSHINE’ in white letters across the top. “My dad has cases of the stuff. He doesn’t notice it’s gone.” she said. “Oh cool” I said back and took a swig. “Ughhh” I winced and shook in disgust. My entire face pursed together like I had put 2 warheads in my mouth. It was bitter and my breath felt hot. My ears clicked open and my nose cleared up like I’d just sniffed a vic’s vapor rub. “The taste gets better after a few sips.” she said taking a big swig of her own. I remember thinking to myself, how the hell was I going to be able to get rid of this drink. ‘I’ll take it to the bathroom with me and tip some of it down the sink while I’m washing my hands. Wait, but what if she goes in after me? She’ll smell it for sure.’ I sat on the couch awkwardly, and slowly slipped away and focusing all my attention on not retching at the taste and smell of what I would only learn years later that the Grand Ridge Brewery Moonshine Scotch Ale that I drank 8.5%. I only realise I was affected by it after I stood up to go to the bathroom. It felt pretty good, Dizzy, but happy. And warm. Then I entered my 'brown out' stage.

“Let’s jump in the pool.” she suggested, laughing. “No way! I laughed” It’s freezing outside!” “The pool is heated.” She said convincingly

The last memories I have of that night were of her and I jumping in the pool, fully clothed. Not thinking or even caring about having to lie about my wet clothes the next day. We came back upstairs and I got dressed into my pyjamas.

“You want some pills?” she said. “What are they for?” I asked. “They make you feel good” she said. “Yeah ok” I agreed. I took the blue pill from the palm of her hand, full knowing I shouldn't take it. That it was stupid and irresponsible and kind of scary. ‘Don’t swallow it, Don’t you dare swallow it’ I told myself as I waited for Amelia to turn around so I could spit it out, and I did. I spat it back out, put it in my hand, then hid it in my bag.

That was the last thing I remember doing. I woke the next day realising that I didn’t even remember going to bed. I sat up and saw I was in the bed. I was freaked, but composed because I didn't want to seem like a loser that couldn't handle their shit. I got up and walked into the TV room and saw Amelia on the couch in her TV room, with the TV still turned on.

“Morning” she said. “Morning” I said back. “You slept for ages. Get dressed and we’ll go grab some food.” she said

We walked down the road to a take away food shop, where Amelia was known by the owners. She ordered me a Souvlaki or a Gyros type thing - It was the first time I’d ever eaten anything like that and it was friggen delicious. We sat inside the small shop take-away shop and munched away as bits of meat, onion and red lettuce fell between our fingers onto the paper bag beneath it. “You ever had marijuana before?” she asked “No. But my sister does it all the time.” I replied. “I do” She said. “Where do you even get it from?” I asked. “I have sex with this guy and he just gives it to me, for free!” She said.

I didn’t see Amelia anymore after that. I had my problems and even I knew that was something I didn’t want to be around.

#thatrangabird #incoherent narrative #coherent narrative #drinking #alcohol #drugged

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