Tony Stark Blue Light Glasses Novels & Stories

The realization that his mesmerizing crimson eyes were not an inherent facet of his status as a Red Fang Pack member, but rather a result of contact lenses, reverberated through the corridors of my mind, leaving an indelible mark. Tyrel's words flowed forth, a melodic blend of jest and feigned solemnity, as he unravelled the tale of his "unique optical issues" with an air of mock seriousness. With every word, his voice dripped with a playful charm, embracing the delightful dance of whimsy and mischievousness. He elucidated how his trusted doctor had prescribed him these singular lenses, designed specifically to address his vision concerns. Yet, in a twist of fate, these remarkable ocular aid

“The design is flawless, Myriam. The reinforced glass you selected is top-tier, silver-laced, and energy-efficient. They’re built to withstand a full-scale pack assault, as you requested. Why are you suddenly trying to change the specs?” “I wanted black obsidian frames.” “No. You demanded white marble frames, which we confirmed four times during the blueprints. The obsidian will look like a funeral pyre against this stone.” “But I want the black.” “We’ve already forged the white. We’ve installed the white. You want my crew to rip out the entire security perimeter?” “Yes.” She reached out, her fingers grazing his bicep. “And I don't expect to be billed for the 'misunderstanding.'”

it is already working. "yeah, but the only sad thing is that when dr. Victoria told me you had to wear glasses I had seen these super cool frames which had superman imprints on the legs, now we don't have to buy it." I said giving him a fake sad expression and then went to refill his glass of juice. "Bella wait." my smile couldn't get any bigger but when I looked at him I had a confused expression. "Yeah?" "I want those glasses." "But you just said you didn't."

"We should have interchangeable parts." "Maybe. But it’s easy to fix. +1.50 readers. You can pick out a frame in the lobby. Or get drugstore ones." "Thank you, Doctor." They walked out to the lobby. Rows of glasses stared back at them from illuminated shelves. "Okay," Elion said, picking up a tray. "Fashion show. Try these." He handed Cale a pair of thick black frames. Clark Kent style. Cale put them on. He looked in the mirror. He frowned.

She looked up to lock eyes onto mine with no smile on her face this time. Slowly, my hands reached her waist to bring her to my body, making her sit astride me. I took off her glasses and dropped it on the space beside me. I've always wanted to see more of those clear blue eyes ever since she took her glasses off in the office. The blue gems were dark, moist and bewitching, disorganizing sanity. Ooh, damn, I'm losing my brain!

“You have no right to tell me what words I should use when you’re being an ass. And what’s up with those glasses anyway? They don’t suit you.” “They suit me just fine, thank you.” “No, they don’t.” “How about I give them to you? Since you obsess over them so much?” he asked, still not paying attention to her, and Aurora almost gagged. The thought of putting those glasses on her face made her want to barf. “Ew, no. Keep them to yourself!” she said in disgust, and he turned to stare straight into her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want them?” he asked, and she felt her brain short-circuit. It was like her mind went blank, and there was no way to fill it. His blue eyes were still there, hypnotiz

Melio's POV I would be lying if I said this Villa wasn't beautiful. It had a luxurious and cozy feeling. The entrance had beautiful marbles on the ground. The lighting is expensive. I mean I expected nothing less from a man who could wear Gucci to the gym. I feel my boss has OCD. Cause this Villa is more arranged than my entire life put together. The door to the main entrance was huge and had a sensor that opened on its own. The house had mostly glass and paints of beige to concrete walls. It could be mistaken for a penthouse. I did steal a peck at his car collections— from Bentley to maybeach to Rolls Royce of different models, SUVs— you name it— he has it. Well the interior of this house i

A small, blue light began to pulse beneath the skin of his temple. The "Protector" wasn't just a shield. He was a bomb.

And she had not been prepared for the ice blue. It registered before she gave it permission to. The ice-blue vest fitted to him with the precision of something built for one person only. The white shirt underneath. His forearms where the sleeves were rolled. She had always — she pushed it down immediately. Looked at Harrison. Sat down. Opened her folder. She turned to page two. Her mind went back to the ice blue. Him. She turned to page three. She was annoyed at herself in a way that was entirely unproductive and she was going to stop.

"Mr. Stark once told me my glasses didn't suit me and threw them behind him." Alex stared at me. "Behind him," he repeated. "Behind him." We both laughed again. He made me comfortable enough to forget all about Minnesota for a moment. We talked. About the dinner, about the Garrett-SSC deal that had apparently been in negotiation for longer than either of our tenures, about the universal suffering of being the person responsible for making sure the person above you looked organized when they fundamentally were not. It was fun. I was mid-laugh, my head tilting back slightly with it, when I felt the pressurized awareness of eyes that had weight to them.