#➳ Spam Mail!♡ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilmisssona · 2 months

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𓍢ִ໋🀦 PROLOGUE 𓍢ִ໋🀦

𓍢ִ໋🀦 PAIRING: Vampire! Hyunjin × Witch! Fem Reader

𓍢ִ໋🀦 GENRE: Supernatural AU, SMAU, Enemies To Lovers, Murder Mystery AU

𓍢ִ໋🀦 PLOT: You're accepted to The University Of Magicks" You thought it was just a fun prank, a spam ad even. But when you get actually accepted, things start to get real....You move across the country to start your new life, only to get on the nerves of a certain vampire.... Join on this magical journey as you navigate through life, friendships , love and maybe even an ancient curse ??!! Will you be able to thrive or will this be a battle to survive ?

𓍢ִ໋🀦 WORD COUNT: 1.5K

𓍢ִ໋🀦 A/N: And The journey begins! Let Me know what you think! New chapters every week!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 WARNINGS: Childhood trauma, reader is depressed, depiction of physical abuse.

𓍢ִ໋🀦MASTERLIST |𓍢ִ໋🀦NEXT

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

" What the hell is this even ?"

This was your initial reaction when you received the mail in your inbox.

" An acceptance letter ??"

"But I have applied nowhere..." you pondered over your thoughts, recollecting last week's memory.

But nothing came up even after jogging your brain for a good few minutes.

" Whatever, must've been some spam mail " You rolled your eyes and were about to move that mail to the bin when suddenly....

A message popped up on your laptop screen.

" Will you really let go of such a wonderful opportunity Yn ? "

"What the hell ??" You desperately tried to get rid of that pop up.

But despite your efforts, you couldn't even click on it, let alone remove it.

" Omg! My laptop is hacked!" You cried out to the thin air.

" YN, was this not what you wanted ? " Another message popped up.

" Are you even happy in your meagre mortal life ?"

You were about to shut your laptop down, when you stopped in your tracks....

It was supposed to be a spam bot right ? This was all fake right ?

Then why did a single tear formed in your eyes when you read the last message.

Why did you stumbled and fell down on the floor with a soft thud ? Why were you too shocked to even respond to that message ?

Tears rolled down your face as you let the words sink in. " Am I even happy, where I am right now ?" you thought to yourself.

" Does everyone now know that I'm a burden ?" You massage your temples in frustration.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

Life hasn't smiled upon you yet... You lost your parents in an accident at the tender age of 3.

For anyone else losing one of their parents at any age is unbearable, but loosing both of them at 3 years old ?

That shock was too much to bear and you were mute for at least six months....

The orphanage became your new home. The people there were nice to you there but you kept your guard up.

As if you were angry at them for pitying you. Until one couple visited the orphanage two weeks later.

The woman of the couple played with you, cooed at you soothingly. The man of the couple gave you your favourite snacks.

Slowly you started to smile at their presence. They visited you daily and you looked forward to it every single day.

As their visits became your highlight. You started to smile and laugh again. Forgetting the painful memories little by little.

And for the first time in seven months, you spoke again. " Mumma " you called out to the woman of that couple.

She was overjoyed to the point of lifting you up and spinning you around. After that everything happened so quickly.

Some legal documents were shared, some hushed conversations were discussed that you couldn't fathom to decipher.

Finally after two days of confusion, the couple walked to you smiling.

Holding a document in their hands, they held you close to them and whispered...

" Welcome yn to your new home "

You were overjoyed to find a new home. The couple, whom you addressed as Mumma and dada, were the best parents you can ask for.

Life was finally looking up to you, you thought. Until it was your 7th birthday....

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

You have been sick for a few days. Your parents were worried to the point of consulting every doctor, every remedy they can find.

You feel indifferent in your body, as if something is changing within you. No doctor, no elder can detect anything wrong.

Your parents lost hope and just stuck to feeding and comforting you.

One evening before your birthday, your eyes glowed to the sight of the rays of the moon.

You were alone that evening, with only the neighbour's daughter at your care as a babysitter.

She was in your room reading some comics and giggling to herself. You were staring at the moon from the window at your bedside.

Suddenly, a cold wind blew outside. You felt "it" again in your body.

The chills, an indifferent feeling. And before you know it, your neighbour's daughter was screaming at you incoherently.

Begging you to stop....

Everything was a blur after that...

Apparently your eyes changed their colours and you were levitating in the air with a golden orb surrounding you.

You were too shocked to know of this predicament so you couldn't answer your mumma, when she confronted you.

You didn't remember a thing.

But when your mum showed that the CCTV cam in your room captured everything, you were at a loss of words....

Your parents looked at you with a gaze of disgust and fear. For the first time of years, you didn't feel safe in your new home.

And before you know it, you were given away for adoption just like that...

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

After that, it was one foster home to another. One school to another.

No one kept you more than a few months.

Everyone looked at you with terror, when they saw the glow in your eyes, with an orb surrounding you like a burning flame.

You fitted nowhere and were constantly called names. " Freak " and " Possessed " being the most frequent.

Slowly the weight of being indifferent from others was too much to bear.

You started to feel like a burden to everyone.

You tried everything to stop " that feeling " but, it was to no avail....

At 17 you ran away from your last foster home.

Your foster father, hit you with a pan after one of your "episodes' ' you begged him to stop.

But he glared at you with a terrifying smile and hit you, numerous times.

At the same night, you left that house and never came back.

After that, you survive yourself with small jobs here and there.

Continuing your education as well as juggling 3 jobs at a time to make ends meet.

You tried to mask that uncanny feeling. Hiding it in plain sight by being in the washroom for a good few minutes.

Finally after 3 years your efforts paid off. You were hired by a freelance company with good pay.

You thanked your past experiences for landing this job.

Eventually the job became very fruitful and you even bought a small apartment on your own until now....

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

You were staring at the laptop screen for at least an hour now.

The pop ups are gone now... Yet the words stung to your head.

" Will you really let go of such a wonderful opportunity Yn ? "

" Are you even happy in your meagre mortal life ?"

The truth was, even though you were pretty satisfied with how far you've come on your own.

But there was always a lingering feeling that you don't belong here.

That you're different from the others.... And you hated that. Hated that " it " the uncanny feeling, took away your adoptive parents from you and made you go through hell.

“ It” being the very reason for how you started to hate yourself.

How you thought you're really a crazy freak who's a burden to everyone. How your mental health started to deteriorate.

To the point that you took mini breaks from work. Like you're taking one now and staring at your ceiling wide awake at 2 in the morning.

Not a blink of sleep in your eyes.

Pondering over your life decisions and that strange email you received.

After receiving that email you googled your symptoms.

The ones that made you feel like a freak in front of everyone.

And it was confirmed by an article. You ARE a witch.

These are the symptoms that all witches experience.

Although it was confirmed by a shady website. So you half believe it yourself.

But the university is very much real. They even have an instagram page with thousands of followers.

Their website also seems genuine.

" How did they even select me ? " you wondered. Although you were half laughing as you scrolled through their page.

Something in you believed that you should embrace yourself. Uncanny feeling or not.

That this is where you belong....

And when you spotted a very handsome man, in a post.

Clad with shining black hair, ethereal dark brown eyes, so deep that you can swim in them and a smile enough to end world problems....

A blush creeped upon your cheeks. " Hyun '' or something was written in the captions of that post.

Smiling to yourself you scrolled through all his pictures on the page. A weird feeling formed in the pit of the stomach.

But this wasn't a feeling of dread, it was a feeling of happiness, joy even.

So you rethink your decisions. Whether it'll be worth being stuck in this boring, pathetic life or should you plunge into the unknown and visit this university ?

Something in your mind tells you to choose the latter, after hours of thinking. So at 4 in the morning, you type a reply and send it.

Almost immediately you received an answer back.

" We're glad you chose the right decision. You're expected to arrive on the 21st, 5 pm kst sharp.

We look forward to your visit in Namsuhara and our lovely university. "

" Wait! Namsuhara ??" That's like the other end of the country ??"

You looked at your messy room and sighed. Looks like I have a lot of packing to do….

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

𓍢ִ໋🀦 OUR ETERNAL ALLIES: @atinyniki @candycrunchstay @writingforstraykids

@cheesemonky @skzoologist @minholing @michelle4eve @jinnie-ret

𓍢ִ໋🀦 NEW RECRUITMENTS: @star92 @arloo00 @dabiscrustyfeet @loxgirl2004 @lakoya @thisrandomgoofy15 @kpopmenace143 @avokralaim @i2nsstuff @yasssposts @kopikokrunch @wa-wandavision @nlr1606 @kangyeonie @niaalove @bellandxx @annybah @kaiyaba @seungminindabuilding

(Taglist Is Closed!!)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

𓍢ִ໋🀦 ENDNOTE: Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids.

Make sure to like, reblog, follow and turn your notifications on to get updated whenever I upload a new chapter!!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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kidlawevents · 6 months

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KidLaw Holiday Exchange 2023 Matches Sent

It's one day early but we've already sent the matches so make sure to check your e-mails (and spam folders)! And please don't forget to respond to our e-mail by November 6th ♡

If you have problems or questions, you can contact us here on Tumblr or send us an e-mail: [email protected]

#kidlaw exchange 2023

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angel-gone-south · 6 months

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old man yaoi

#➳ Spam Mail!♡

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keeryparadise · 2 years

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Hands All Over Each Other || S.H.

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: You and your alluring neighbor Steve live on the same apartment floor. You’ve been dying to get a moment alone with him, and when you both get trapped in an elevator together, you feel more excited than scared. Barely ten minutes pass, and before you know it, your hands are all over each other.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 2.1k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: Cliche plot asf, mention of sexual/steamy content, kissing/making out, hickies, y/n definitely has a hand kink, y/n is a pervy stalker, y/n wants to shower with steve, hand sex?? /j

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Nervous/awkward/embarrassed Steve, dom!Steve, hand massage, wayy too much hand talk, too much fluff, the most palpable tension ever created.

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: No

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an honest accident, or maybe a miracle from God. Yeah, definitely a miracle from God. You think.

Just seconds ago, you stood fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for the elevator to come. Now you stand in the corner of said elevator, knowing those doors won’t be opening again for a long time. And God, are you so glad that the doors won’t be opening anytime soon, forcing you to be stuck alone with your next-door neighbor Steve.

You’ve been practically drooling over Steve Harrington since he moved in next door to you a few months ago. You’ve only talked to him once when he came to your door to introduce himself. But you’ve seen him a lot.

You memorized his schedule: you hear his alarm ring every morning at 7:30. He takes 20 minutes to get ready and leaves at eight to get coffee. Sometimes you follow him. He works until five in the evening and watches TV for the rest of the day. He then showers at ten and goes to bed when he’s finished.

Sometimes you like to imagine him in the shower. Skin slick with water, his hair wet and dripping beads down his toned skin. Those goddamn hands, combing soap through his hair. Eyes closed, facing warm water, goosebumps forming on his neck from heat. The steam fogging up his mirror, surrounding his entire body. Deep breaths as he struggles to breathe in the thick, steamy air.

Sorry. What were we talking about?

He gets his mail every Sunday, around 11. Today you decided to follow him, maybe, strike up a conversation in the elevator. If you’re lucky, you want to try to make your fantasies a reality.

Oh God, were you happy when the elevator came to a sudden halt on the third floor, not moving, not opening its doors.

You and Steve give each other worried looks when the doors don’t open for much too long to be considered normal. His eyebrows raise, pulling together as he nervously steps forward.

“I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” he spoke with an uneasy smile.

You nod, “Yeah, definitely not.”

He steps over to the panel of buttons and pushes the ‘open door’ button. For a moment, he stands impatient, awaiting a response.

Nothing.

He spams the button repeatedly with his thumb, practically banging on the panel at one point. He gives up with a frustrated punch and an irritated sigh.

“Well,” he starts, “I guess we’re stuck here.” He pushes himself up against the wall, his head leaning back, as he slides down the wall to sit.

“Yep,” you reply, mirroring his actions. You sit in front of each other, cross-legged. He doesn’t make eye contact.

He sighs, “Nothing to do but wait, I guess.”

You quirk your head slightly, “That’s not entirely true,” you insist, “who knows how long we’ll be here, might as well get to know each other. We’re neighbors, after all.”

He gives you a slow nod and makes eye contact for a brief instant. You never noticed it before, but his eyes were brown.

He gives you a low sigh before speaking, “So, where were you off to before this?”

Following you, actually.

“Getting the mail.”

Steve lets out a low chuckle, his posture hunching slightly, “Me too.” He smiles at you.

I know.

“Oh,” you try to sound surprised, “What a coincidence then!”

He refrains from making eye contact still and instead stares at a big, yellow stain on the floor. It’s flattering that he prefers that over you!

Steve’s hands lay awkwardly in his lap, visibly clammy. You’ve never had the chance to get such an up-close look at his hands before, but now that you do, they’re much better than you imagined. And God, they look much better, dripping in a nervous sweat. His fingernails curve into a hill, practically spotless. His wrists and knuckles look so delicate that they could break under too much pressure, yet you can’t help but imagine him so clearly breaking you with those same fingers. His wrist bones pose prominently due to the positioning of his hands, and you feel the heat in your pants grow every time you see them shift under his skin. You’ve never seen more delicate hands on a man, yet you can’t even begin to imagine what he’d do to you with them.

“My eyes are up here,” Steve scolds.

You finally break the gaze on his hands to look up at him, blushing from embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just-” you stammer and stutter, tripping over your words, “I really like your hands, and I guess I zoned out looking at them.” You didn’t mean to put that much emphasis on really.

Steve gives you a blushy smile and scoots a few feet closer, putting out his left hand, “You can touch it if you want to. It doesn’t bite, I hope.”

You giggle, covering your mouth, and deny him politely, “No, seriously, I was just zoning out. I don’t want to touch your hands.”

He breaks eye contact and looks away, his kind smile folding into a frown. His eyebrows point up, and he uses his hand to cover his blushing face.

“Ah, okay.”

Your stomach drops seeing the embarrassed look on Steve’s face, and you grab his hand with both of yours in one swift motion. He makes eye contact again, his lips slightly parted. You look down at his hand, sitting tense in yours. Your thumb brushes against the back of his hand like a feather, intimately and soft.

You feel his eyes staring at the top of your head and look back up at him through your eyelashes, desire sparkling and mixing in the colors. His pupils dilate at the sudden eye contact, and you press more firmly into his hand, maintaining magnet-like staring with your eyes. The deep brown of his eyes mix with the black of his pupil, and soon everything is a mess of chocolate-colored desire and intimacy.

Your thumbs push firmly between Steve’s knuckles and along the back of his hand, and you feel knots of tension release with every press. You massage his palm with the rest of your fingers and finally break eye contact to flip his hand over and study his palm. You cup the back of his hand with one of yours and use your other hand to trace the lines in his palm with a careful index finger.

“You can hand read?” Steve questions.

You shake your head and continue tracing his lines with the nail on your pointer finger, “No, I’m just studying you.”

You close his hand and tilt your face back up at his eyes to see the blush spread on his cheeks. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you stroke his fist with both thumbs, slow and careful.

You look back down at Steve’s hand and give it back.

It’s not until you look back into his eyes that you realize how close you have gotten to each other’s faces. A hot breath escapes his parted lips, warming up your entire face. You’re so close that your noses touch, causing you to flinch backward from the shock.

A small whisper attempts to escape your lips, and a barely recognizable “thank you” is all you can manage. You cover your face in embarrassment and lean away from the heated body in front of you.

You hear him clear his throat to speak, “Yeah, anytime.”

Anytime? Do you really mean anytime? I’d love to do that all the time actually, let me give you massages all the time, it doesn’t just have to be your hands, I do other things too if you want. I definitely want to. Please let me massage you all the time-

Steve places a gentle hand on your knee and brushes it with his finger. The sudden warmth startles you out of an obsessive trance, and you look back at him longingly.

He gives you an awkward smile, “You still have to do the other hand.”

You twist your body back toward him and slowly pick his right hand up with yours. You repeat the same process, gently kneading his hands like a thick dough. You press on certain spots, releasing tension in his wrist and knuckles, slowly and delicately. You try desperately to make this moment last.

You press down on the spot between his index and middle finger’s knuckles, and Steve lets out a soft moan. The hand you were just massaging flies straight onto his mouth, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I don’t know what that was, I’m so sorry.”

You stare at him for a moment, expressionless, and pull his right hand back into yours. You find the spot again, pressing softly at first. He bites his lip with his eyebrows pulled together, holding back something desperately trying to crawl its way out of his vocal cords. You glimpse up at him through thick eyelashes and pull his hand closer into your lap. His index finger twitches nervously from the pressure between his knuckles. You can see the desperation sparking in his eyes as you inch closer. You don’t flinch when your noses touch this time.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes.

You give him a smug smile, lips mocking him, “It’s a little too early for that, isn’t it? Buy a girl a drink first.”

Steve inches away and looks at your surroundings, “Oh, I wish I could, but um-” he makes eye contact again, “It seems I’m stuck in an elevator right now. Sorry.”

You let go of his hand to cover your laugh.

“That’s true, I guess.” You inch back toward him, cupping a hand to his cheek and using your other hand to interlock your fingers in your lap.

Steve wraps his free hand around your waist. Even over your shirt, you feel all the warmth from his hand seeping through the fabric, making your stomach tingle. His eyes narrow, and his smile fades as he inches closer, lips barely pursing.

Your hot breaths mix in the small pocket of air you share between your faces. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Your stomach churns and dances inside you.

You press down on the spot between Steve’s knuckles, and he melts into you.

He pushes himself on top of you, pinning you to the disgusting elevator floor, one hand cupped to your face and the other hands down on the floor. He smashes your lips together, barely able to control himself anymore. His legs wrap around your waist as he pushes your bodies together.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to your body. He lets out a breathy swear when you accidentally press your body into the bulge in his jeans. You arch your back in an attempt to feel more of the heat from his body. Your arms travel up his back, tracing the indent of his back muscles with a gentle finger.

Steve passionately presses your lips together, breathing deeply as he practically grinds himself into you.

You let out a quiet moan, throwing your head back to give him access to your neck. He plants particular kisses on your collar bone, slowly moving up to your neck. He pushes your hair out of the way to start kissing you all over, looking for the spot you like the most.

It didn’t take long before he found your sweet spot. His lips suck at your neck, and his tongue swirls on the skin in his mouth. You arch your back upward into him with another soft moan. You press your waist into his jeans again, causing him to free your neck from his mouth and let out a shuddery breath.

Steve eyes the hickies now decorating your neck, pleased with himself. He positions your face back in front of his and plants a kiss on your sucked lips.

Your breath hitches when the elevator lets out a quiet ding, and the two of you jump out of each other’s grasp, startled. You feel the elevator start to move again.

You make brief eye contact with Steve, the two of you trying to process the interruption. The elevator dings again, and the door opens to the first floor.

You both stand up slowly, in shock, straightening your clothes and fixing your hair.

“We’ll have to finish this another time,” Steve starts, “I need to get my mail.” He leaves you alone in the elevator as the door closes on you and your confused face.

That really just happened, didn’t it?

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] ~ KEERY PARADISE

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #duffer brothers #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things one shot #stranger things fic #i love you steve harrington #he's the only reason i watch the show anymore

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hanrinz · 1 year

Note

talking to yourself is actually helpful and not a symptom of insanity (talking from experience)

tama ako ‼️‼️

#spam my inbox 😘😘#◝(ᵔ◦ᵔ)◜mail!#ੈ♡‧₊˚moots : xue

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lale-txt · 2 years

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♡ Happy Birthday, Bee: Whitebeard x F!S/I

a/n: @secretsnailor - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Bee!! from me & @tardiiart who teamed up to surprise you on your birthday! :3c thank you for being such a lovely friend to us and for everything you do! since we can't hug you in person on your special day, we worked in secret on a little something we hope you'll enjoy. sending you all the kisses! ♡

word count: 2.1k

“Nervous much?” – “Thatch. You know I already fucked your dad successfully. There’s nothing for me to be nervous about anymore.”

It was impossible to miss the teasing in Thatch’s voice as his big hair filled up almost all of the display in Bee’s phone. She had her friend on FaceTime, watching him roll out dough in the kitchen of his bakery while she was finishing last touches on her makeup, applying mascara to each lash with meticulous precision.

“Sure. Just pretend it’s not your first proper date in ages. Or that you don’t have the slightest crush on Pops. And that you spent two hours picking the right outfit for today. I was right there.”

Bee huffs, taking her eyes off the mirror to stare directly in the camera. She may be small, but she sure could bite when tested, however she gets cut off before she can use her brush as a threatening pointing weapon.

“And yet still she chose this outfit. Bee, I told you Pops is a boobs man. You should show some cleavage.”

Izou’s handsome face appeared in the display, mustering her with stern eyes and arms wrapped around his new found lover. The two of them were disgustingly sweet together, but still – Bee was glad it worked out for them after listening to Thatch’s whining about unrequited love the other night.

“What’s the point? He even asked me to bring a jacket and mittens, I’ll be all covered up anyway, I guess. Hey, does he always plan surprises for his dates?”

Thatch and Izou exchange a look and shrug. In all honesty, they couldn’t remember when they experienced Whitebeard taking someone out on a proper date, so this was new territory for everyone. What they knew for sure was that Marco had been arguing prior before Pops left with him on why he should take the new Corvette and not his rusty old van while the other sons were secretly taking photos and spamming the group chat with it.

Bee attempted a few different hair styles but decided to just leave them open in the end, earning an approving thumbs up from both Thatch and Izou who were now forming pretzels together on screen. She smiled over them playfully bickering at each other, arguing who had the most skilled fingers, when she heard a car honk outside.

“Shit… okay– gotta run, talk to you later, guys!” She blew a few kisses towards the screen and watched the boys wave and waggle their eyebrows at her, before she ended the call and grabbed her few belongings, checking herself one last time in the mirror. Calm down, Bee. You got this. While her drumming heart was trying to tell her otherwise, she was also overly excited to meet the big man again.

They had spent a wonderful night together a week ago, magical almost, and had been in touch ever since. While Whitebeard wasn’t big of a texter, probably because the buttons of his flip phone were a little too frilly for him, he called her several times a day to hear what she was doing, just keeping each other company while one was out getting groceries or cooking dinner. Though one night he also asked her what she was wearing, laughing loudly when Bee went off to explain in a dry voice every detail of her worn out pajama, only to ask him in return if he had his cock in his hands– he did, and they had an amusing attempt at phone sex, deciding that the real thing was a whole lot better.

Still, Bee fell asleep with a smile that night, yearning to meet him again. When she opened her mail the next day she was surprised to find a handwritten letter in there, ripping it open before she even reached her door. Inside was an invitation to an official date, Whitebeard giving her a time and a date when he was gonna pick her up, scribbled with a cryptic note that she should bring something warm to wear. She called him that night to press more information out of him, but he only chuckled and left her hanging, amused by her pleading and pouting.

Bee didn’t like surprises, but this one time she would make an exception. And she had a vague feeling anyway, because where would you require a wool jumper and mittens on this hot summer afternoon?

She laughed when she noticed the infamous Moby Dick parked in front of her house, the old fashioned-van that looked like it would fall apart any second. Whitebeard cranked down the window on the passenger seat, leaning over to greet her with a wide smile.

“Hey, little Bee.” – “Hey, handsome.”

Whitebeard opened the door from the inside for her, holding out a hand to help her in the passenger seat, not pulling it back once she took a seat. The two look at each other, almost a little shy now that they were seeing each other again after that one night, but the tension falls off their shoulders once they start laughing and lean in for a big kiss.

Bee was almost standing in her seat to reach him, her hands placed on his cheek while his big hands were wrapped around her waist, pulling her over to him. Their lips crashed against each other, needy sounds being muffled with more kisses and hands wandering over their bodies, and for a minute it wouldn’t have been surprising if they started undressing each other right there in the parked car, if only the sound of the van’s car honk didn’t startle them.

They pull away and grin at each other, and for a few heartbeats they feel like lovestruck teenagers on their way to prom. Now that the kiss was out of their system, Bee finally took Whitebeard all in. He was wearing jeans and a green shirt which he didn’t bother to button up fully, his long blonde hair falling over his shoulders and his distinctive beard looked like it was polished and combed at least three times before he left the house.

Bee gave Whitebeard a look when he started the car, the unholy noises of a dying vehicle roaring through the streets, but soon the sound of his music was blasting louder than the groaning and creaking of the van. He let her flip through his collection of tapes and pick the ones she liked the most, a bit proud of himself that he could cater to her music preferences, humming to the melody with a big hand resting on her thigh.

“So. What’s the plan? Either we’re going on a week long road trip to colder realms and in that case I didn’t pack enough undies. Or…?”

Whitebeard pointed over his shoulder to the backseat, not taking his eyes off the road, while Bee turned around and gasped.

“Ice skating? Don’t tell me you’re secretly a professional figure skater?”

His roaring car made the whole car vibrate and he shook his head.

“Never tried it. But my boys suggested it could be fun to do something active, so… hope you like the pair I got you.” – “Are you kidding me? They are so extra.”

Bee grabbed the pair of smaller skates and looked at them from every angle. They seemed really expensive, but the pink color was loud. Still, she shifted in her seat with excitement. To be honest, it wouldn’t have mattered what he had planned today, as long as she got to spend time with him. Talking on the phone was nice, but seeing him in all his glory, smelling and feeling him… that was the real deal.

They arrived at the ice skating rink and after parking the van, Whitebeard walked around the car to open the passenger door for Bee, offering her a hand and not letting go of it. Bee leaned close, enjoying the warmth he was radiating and together they made their way inside. It was lively but not crowded, music blasting from the speakers as people were going around in circles. While Whitebeard sat down on a bench to put on his skates, Bee took the chance to be somewhat on an eye level with him and stole a few more kisses, almost crawling into his lap again if he didn’t hold her back by the hips.

“Easy, little one… we can get to that later.”

He winked and ignored how she rolled her eyes, went on to lock their stuff up and after changing into their wool jumpers they soon stepped on the ice together, his big hand in hers. Bee laughed loudly at him when she noticed him standing there like a deer in the headlight, unsure how to move, but that was only until she stumbled and almost fell on her own ass if Whitebeard didn’t have such a tight grip on her, almost making her dangle from his outstretched arm.

“Would have served me right, I guess”, Bee grinned sheepishly as he helped her back on her feet again, his rumbling laugh echoing in her chest. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute”, Whitebeard replied and leaned down for a kiss, ignoring the fact that his knees were shaking slightly on the unfamiliar ground.

Together they felt their way into the dark – the dark being the ice rink and dozens of children passing them by at the speed of light while they slowly, very slowly, found their balance. Soon they took off their mittens, craving skin on skin contact, and Bee couldn’t help but feel comforted by her small hand in his, not letting her go once. They spun around in circles, rating the playlist of this place loudly, talking about sweet nothingness and depths of their soul, a mix of lightness and trust pouring in their words.

Time seemed to slip through their fingers and they didn’t even notice when the staff turned off the music; like waking up from a dream they slowly realized that they were the last ones still going in circles and with this realization also came the heavy legs, not used to the motions on ice. Apparently the people working there had tried to get them off the rink for half an hour since they were already closed, but they all were too intimidated by Whitebeard and didn’t dare to approach him.

They got their stuff from the lockers and changed into their regular shoes and clothes again, giggling and teasing each other about the whole situation in a way only old souls and lovers do, not realizing they might have fallen madly and deeply already.

“My legs feel like pudding. I don’t think I can walk one more step anymore”, Bee groans as she ties her shoes – even this task was exhausting. Still, she had lots of fun today and enjoyed herself to the fullest, and she would do it all over again if it meant she got to hold Whitebeard’s hand for several hours.

“No worries, little one. I got you”, Whitebeard laughed and without further warning swooped her off her feet, and within the blink of an eye Bee was sitting on his arm, grabbing onto his shoulder for support. Their faces were only inches away from each other and she could count every tiny wrinkle on his face, but what really captured her was the blue of his eyes, like the sky and the ocean becoming one at the end of the horizon, a thousand shades of luminescence.

Bee rests her head against Whitebeard’s as they make their way outside to the empty parking lot. It was a warm summer night, the sky vast, not a single cloud hanging upon them. Even if they were on solid ground again, they still felt like they were spinning around in their own little universe, just two star crossed lovers. With their heads in the back of their neck they gaze upon the countless stars, feeling both incredibly small and yet so tall, as if they could pick one from the sky and swallow it with ease.

“A shooting star!”

If Whitebeard didn’t have such a tight grip around her, Bee would probably have jumped, so now she’s just pointing towards the sky, her face lightening up with sheer excitement. It has been ages ever since she saw one. Whitebeard’s rumbling laugh makes both of them vibrate and he turns his face towards her, tilting her head slightly towards him with two fingers.

“Make a wish…”, he mumbled against her lips before he leaned in for a kiss, humming when she responded to it wholeheartedly with her hands buried in his hair, clinging onto him as if she never intended to let him go, their hearts beating in unison and unspoken wishes being weaved into each other by an invisible red thread.

#edward newgate #whitebeard #whitebeard x s/i #edward newgate x s/i #Bee's Birthday Bash

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