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sataniquepanique · 2 years

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Deep in the Heart of Texas

Summary: You meet a stranger at a hotel bar during a work trip, and now you can't get him out of your head.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors DNI. Mentions of drinking/being intoxicated.

A/N: This is in an older!Eddie timeline, around 30 years old, same as reader. I'm currently traveling for work and wrote this after literally sitting alone at my hotel bar reading a new D&D manual on my phone and feeling like a loser. Enjoy lol

Texas wasn’t as bad as everyone up north makes it out to be. Yeah, it’s hot as fuck even though autumn had officially started this week, but the atmosphere and the people generously made up for it. Austin was one of the coolest places your job had taken you to so far, a three-day business trip in a quirky, artsy city. After a morning filled with meetings and conferences, you took a few hours to yourself to explore the bustling downtown area filled with obscure costume shops and kitschy restaurants. The sun was sweltering, casting a hazy glow over the main drag as you wiped a bead of sweat from your brow. The heat was starting to nag at you, along with the exhaustion from your flight last night, and you figure it best to head back to the hotel for the night, but not before stopping to buy a pair of brass bullet earrings from a street vendor. “Handmade local jewelry will always win me over,” you tell him sweetly as you hand over $60 for the earrings and a silver ring carved with delicate filigree that caught your eye at the last minute. The older man smiles politely, handing you a small paper bag with your items.

You aren’t one to nap usually, but the second you saw your carefully made hotel bed you collapse into the plush comforter, instantly falling asleep in its soft marshmallow embrace. When you wake the sun is setting, the small room aglow with a warm amber tone. The little black clock on the nightstand reads 6:32, and your stomach growls as you stretch your arms above your head. Not feeling up for another city walk just yet, you decide on going to the hotel bar to grab something quick for dinner. Shedding your earlier clothes, you opt for a faded Black Sabbath shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and white converse. Patting down your pockets to make sure you have your room key and wallet, you pause feeling like you’re missing something. The bar would be quiet, and you didn’t really feel like talking to anyone (especially strangers), so you quickly grab your beat up D&D manual in the hopes of working on a new campaign.

The hotel bar is relatively empty, save a balding older man seated at the end and a group of four at a table by the large windows. Slipping onto a stool at the opposite end of the mahogany bar, the young bartender flits down to you, tossing a coaster onto the counter and handing over a menu. She’s young, maybe a little younger than you, with large eyes and unruly red hair that’s tied up loosely at the crown of her head. “What can I get ya?” She sings with a smile, eyes sparkling as you glance down at the menu.

“Uh…can I have whatever local lager you have?” You glance up, placing an order for food as the waitress nods in approval.

The bar food left something to be desired, but the beer that the waitress had sent over was phenomenal. After she took away your half eaten plate, you order another lager, cracking open your manual in the process and scanning over the pages you had dog-eared previously. This new campaign was frustrating the shit out of you, you’d been working on it for weeks, and keep getting stuck. On your third beer of the night, and entirely engrossed in your reading, you didn’t notice a man sit down two seats away. You run a defeated hand down your face and close your eyes, trying to get inspired by something, anything. The rhythmic clinking against a glass stirs your attention, and you look over to see the man tapping along to an Elton John song playing over the bar speakers, his ringed fingers dancing in the low lighting. He notices your glance in the mirror behind the bar, and offers a small grin in return, turning towards your direction ever so slightly. He was cute, long dark curls framed his angular face, the hint of dark circles under his deep chocolate eyes like he hadn’t slept properly in a few days. Your eyes quickly flash to the patches on his denim vest, a smile playing at the corner of your mouth as you see a few of your favorite bands adorning the lapel.

“Holy shit—is that a D&D manual?” He leans towards you, picking the book up slightly to get a look at the cover. You pull it back defensively, looking at him out of your peripheral.

“Yes? Is that a problem?” You blush, embarrassed a little at his tone.

His eyes widen as he realizes how forward he was being. “Oh, no, absolutely not. I’m sorry…” He puts a hand up in surrender, making you soften a bit. “I just uh, I play a lot with my friends back home so it’s nice to see someone else that’s into it.”

He looks down at his drink, swirling the bottle around nervously as the two of you avoid eye contact. A sudden pang in your chest makes you feel guilty for being so rude to this poor guy, he was just trying to be friendly and you had immediately put up a brick wall to shut him out.

“I’m getting stuck,” you blurt out, smoothing a hand over the open page of your manual. Looking straight ahead into the mirror, you meet his eyes staring back at you. Those deep dark eyes are confused, searching yours for further explanation.

“I’ve been trying to map out a new campaign for my party, and I keep getting stuck somewhere in the middle. I know where it starts, and I know sort of where I want it to go, but the details are tripping me up.” You turn to face him now, shifting your full body on the barstool. It’s brief, but you catch it, the light that sparks from behind his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He beams, obviously trying to play it cool. “You’re a DM? I haven’t met many girls who play D&D, let alone take on the position of Dungeon Master.”

The confession makes you laugh a little, you not-so-secretly loved to prove men wrong and step into their so-called ‘territory’. “Yeah, I DM for a party back home. It’s me and six of my friends from back in high school.”

He smiles back at you, slowly scooting into the barstool directly next to yours. “And where exactly is home, Dungeon Master?”

“Pittsburgh. And it’s Mistress actually—Dungeon Mistress.” The title comes out almost as a growl, unintentional but not unwanted.

His eye widen, quickly focusing his attention on the manual in front of you. Pulling it closer towards him, he fingers through the dog-eared pages. “So tell me what you have so far, maybe I can help…”

God, he was really cute when he was flustered.

As you try to push that thought from your mind, you quickly walk him through the general plan for your campaign, while he tries to pull as much information out of you as he can. When you finally finish, he sits quietly, hand stroking his chin in thought.

“Okay, so generally, I love where you’re headed with this,” He starts. “And I see how you’re getting stuck, but I think there’s also a bunch of ways we can proceed. It just depends on how brutal you want to get with this campaign.”

You eyes narrow as they meet his, a devilish smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “Oh, I want it to be torture.”

His pupils dilate as he grins back, “That’s my girl.”

Two beers later, both of you were huddled over the bar making annotations in the margins of your battered D&D manual. Between the planning and brainstorming, you had learned a lot about each other, sharing your professions and backgrounds. Eddie was on a tour stop with his band, only passing through until tomorrow when they head out to Louisiana. You weren’t familiar with Corroded Coffin, but he was kind enough to give you a copy of their newest album to check out. You told him about your work, the autumn travel season, and bits of your life back home in Pittsburgh. It was easy to talk to him, his lighthearted demeanor breaking down every wall you had initially put up. In the back of your mind there was a nagging feeling, a slight twinge of sadness that you wouldn’t see him again after this one small encounter. If you’re honest, you’d love to have him be a more permanent fixture; collaborating on campaigns, swapping music, maybe even seeing him play live eventually. As you find yourself clinging to those thoughts, the realization that you’re a little drunk surfaces. Eddie slams his bottle down in front of you playfully, grinning mischievously.

“Another one?” His eyes sparkle, a little bloodshot from his own respective buzz. You couldn’t say no to that smile.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Munson?” You accuse with a playful grin.

Eddie scoffs, sucking on his teeth. “I’m trying to have a good time, whether or not you join me is completely up to you.”

You bite your lip in thought. Another drink sounds like a bad idea, seeing as how your departing flight is at 7:00am the next morning, but spending more time with Eddie seems like the best thing in the world right now.

You nod definitively at him. “Fuck it.”

As the night progresses, so do your feelings for Eddie. It’s like you two had been friends for years, not some random stranger you met at a hotel bar hours ago. He had gotten more touchy as the drinks kept flowing, moving a piece of hair out of your face, placing a hand on your lower back as someone brushed past, each touch sending warm waves coursing through your body.

God you wanted him.

As you nursed your seventh—fuck—ninth maybe?—beer, Eddie grabs your hand that is resting on the bar to take a look at your rings.

“These are cool…” he trails off as he spins the little ouroboros on your middle finger, followed by the silver planchette on your index.

The feeling of his fingers on yours sends an electric shock through your body. You stare at his own silver adorned hand, silently fantasizing about what they would look like around your neck as he fucks you stupid.

“I actually bought a new one today from a street vendor,” your brain wasn’t even working anymore, the words coming out of your mouth were bold and 100% a byproduct of the current situation happening in your pants. “I have it up in my room if you want to come check it out, it’s hand carved and super intricate, you’d love it.”

As much as you wanted this to go in another direction, you tried your best to keep your voice innocent and soft.

If Eddie felt the same, he didn’t show it, just sucking down the remainder of his beer and smiling back at you. “Sure thing, doll. I’d love to.”

After tossing down cash for the bartender, Eddie follows you out towards the elevator, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you inside once the doors opened. There’s a few other people in the elevator, and the two of you end up separated by an older couple. The elevator dings at each floor as it climbs, it feels like it’s crawling as you wait in silence. You lean back slightly to glance at Eddie, and he sticks his tongue out playfully. You bite your lip to keep from giggling out loud like a teenager.

Finally the 15th floor arrives, and both of you depart the small confines and out into the carpeted hallway. Eddie sighs and throws an arm around your shoulders like he hadn’t seen you in ages as you dig through your pockets for your key. After fumbling around trying to unlock the door for a few minutes, the lock clicks and you push it open with your foot, looking back to smile at Eddie triumphantly.

He immediately crosses the small room to the window and rips the curtains open. “Oh wow…” he muses. “…you got a way better view than I did.”

You giggle openly, still feeling the effects of the alcohol radiating through your system. “What floor are you on?”

Eddie flops down onto the king sized bed, leaning back on his arms. “Second. I just get to stare at a super cool parking lot.”

“You can always stay up here, I mean, I’m only here another night, but it’s a better change of scenery.” There it was again, the boldness breaking through all of your better judgement. You sit next to Eddie on the bed, suddenly feeling self conscious about your offer. He reaches over and places a hand over yours, a delicious mix of warm skin and cold steel.

“Are you proposing a sleepover?” He places his other hand over his heart, feigning innocence. Unable to find words, and taken aback by his beauty in the dim light, you just giggle and nod.

He scoots closer to you on the bed, hand trailing up your arm and over the length of your spine, finally resting on the back of your neck.

“…and what do you propose we do at this sleepover?” His voice was low and gruff as he inched his face closer to the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches as you feel him flex his fingers on the back of your head. Slowly you turn to look at him, seeing his large eyes blown out and almost completely black. You’d never seen anything more beautiful. You snake a hand over his thigh, squeezing lightly. His sharp intake of breath is all the confidence you need.

“…anything you want.” You whisper.

In an instant Eddie is picking you up onto his lap as you tangle your hands in his hair. He kisses you like a man starved, tongue and teeth and passionate chaos. Two strong hands hold onto your hips, pushing and grinding them against him.You inhale every single one of his moans, pulling his hair to coax him to release more. Sitting back to catch your breath, you push him to lay back onto the bed, ripping your shirt off as he watches breathlessly. His hands reach up to massage your chest as you lean back down to kiss his jawline. You quickly shoot back up, eyes wide and mouth open in discovery.

“Oh my god I totally forgot to show you that ring! That’s literally the entire reason we came up here—“

Eddie stares at you like you’ve just ripped off your entire skin in front of him.

“—that’s not the reason we came up here and you know it.”

You move to get off of his lap to grab the ring, rambling about something as Eddie grabs your waist to force you back down. He places both hands on the side of your head, forcing you to look at him. “I could give less of a shit about the ring right now. All I want to think about is you for the night.”

Your body softens, trailing a hand down his chest as you lean forward to give him a soft kiss in response.

When you wake up the next morning, Eddie is gone. The opposite side of the bed where he had slept is still slightly warm. You bury your face in his pillow, inhaling his scent and feeling your heart break a little. You knew going into this that it wasn’t permanent, but somehow Eddie had crawled into your soul and made a spot for himself, a spot that now felt like a gaping hole in your chest.

The airport was close to the hotel, so you could leave about a hour before takeoff and be there in time. You throw on a pair of jeans and your old Nightmare on Elm Street tee, zipping up your suitcase and doing a one over of the room to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything up. On the table by the closet there was a note next to the coffee machine, weighed down by a shiny silver skull-shaped ring.

Sorry to leave so early, gotta get back on the road. Last night was amazing, I wish we could spend more time together. Tour stops in Pittsburgh in 2 months, I’d love to see you. ~ Eddie

You folded up the note and tucked it into your backpack, looping the heavy ring onto your necklace for safe keeping.

Landing in Pittsburgh was depressing. The overcast sky painted the city a muted gray, washing out every bit of color and creating a monotoned landscape that you were already eager to get away from. You missed Austin, the warmth, the art, the people. Most of all you missed Eddie.

When you get into your car at the airport lot, you remember the Corroded Coffin cd in your backpack. You heart rate is through the roof as you push the disc into the slot on your cars dashboard, watching as it automatically sucks it in and hearing the familiar whirring of the rotation. A beat of silence gives you little time to prepare yourself to hear his voice radiating from your speakers. The sound makes you gasp. Raspy and aggressive and beautiful, you listen to the album in its entirety, taking the backroads home to give yourself more time.

Over the next few weeks, you play Corroded Coffin’s album on repeat, surprised you haven’t burnt it out completely. With each play, your memories of that night in the hotel flash through your mind, more often that not resulting in having to relieve yourself alone in your bedroom.

Eddie flipping you over in his strong, tattoo covered arms, kissing you as he slowly pushes into your warmth. The stretch of your walls as he picks up his pace, sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust. You remember the carnal lust that started out the encounter, morphing fluidly into something softer, something akin to lovemaking. Eddie peppered your face and neck with kisses as he pulls your hips to meet his, the two of you chanting each others name like an erotic prayer. You remember the kiss he gave you as he crossed the threshold and gave into his release, how deep and sensual it was, like you were long-lost lovers reunited.

You had it marked on your calendar for two months, the day Corroded Coffin made their way to the Steel City. They were set to play a venue downtown, known for showcasing metal and hardcore bands primarily. You were nervous, having made a complete disaster zone of your bedroom trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. Not wanting to look too desperate, but also look somewhat sexy, you eventually settle on a black mini dress paired with combat boots and your trusty leather jacket. Eddie’s ring hung from your neck, nestled right above your heart; you hadn’t taken it off since Austin.

The venue was crowded, people spilling out of the doors onto the sidewalk waiting to get inside. After getting your hand stamped, you grab a beer at the small bar in the back and take a spot against the back wall of the venue. The moment the lights dim you hold your breath. You can see the silhouettes of the band members pass by the low lights adorning the stage floor, unable to pin point which one was him just yet. A disembodied voice comes through the microphone, making your heart soar.

“Hi. We’re Corroded Coffin.”

The stage lights roar to life as they immediately start playing their first song, thrashing around onstage to the driving beat. He was still beautiful, same wild dark curls and infectious smile. You couldn’t help but grin as you watch his fingers expertly dance over his guitar, remembering how he had used them on you a few months ago.

You spend the entire show against the back, hidden in the darkness so Eddie wouldn’t notice you. You’re not even sure if he would want to see you honestly, would he even care that you showed up tonight? When the show ends, you exit out the side door and notice a gaggle of girls crowded around near the vans parked out back. Those same familiar curls are visible over their heads, bent down talking to them and laughing while he signs an autograph on one of their cds. Jealously nips at your heart, until you get a closer look at his face. He wasn’t looking at them like he had looked at you that night.

You squeeze past the girls towards the front of their group, undetected by Eddie as he distractedly takes a photo with another person to your left.

“Can I have your autograph Mr. Munson?” Your desire is apparent in the purr of your voice, making Eddie snap his head in your direction. A toothy smile breaks through his face, and you can see the same look in his eyes that he had back at that small hotel bar. He gives back the pen in his hand to one of his fans, turning his attention solely on you. You can hear some of the girls whining for his autograph, but they’re all quickly tuned out as he reaches up to brush a stray piece of hair off your face, cupping his hand to your cheek as he takes in your features.

“I’m glad you came out,” He notices the ring resting on your chest and plays with it, visibly pleased that you had held onto it. “Wanna go get a drink?”

You beam back at him, knowing full well what happened last time the two of you shared a few drinks. “That depends, are you going to leave again without saying a proper goodbye like last time?”

He slings a leather clad arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Nah, we’re off for the next few days so it looks like you might be stuck with me.”

You try to play it cool as he escorts you back into the bar, but the butterflies in your stomach were wreaking havoc, ecstatic to be back with the mysterious stranger that had burrowed his way into your heart.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #older!eddiemunson #eddie munson blurb

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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Beg

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes - nonnie

Prompt: You curl up with your boyfriend, Austin, to watch a film. Little does he know that you neglected to put on a very important article of clothing: panties. When he discovers, he's down bad and you're ready to take advantage. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: sub!austin, bondage, biting, choking, overstim, i don't wanna spoil it but bdsm stuffs

Rating: M || Word Count: 3497

A/N: WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT FRIENDS. that's all i have to say 💕 this is so so dirty lmao

🦋 mila

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“Aus, if you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna start it without you!” you shout, jumping onto the couch.

You pull a blanket over your legs and nestle into its warmth and the lovely feeling of your silky smooth legs rubbing against each other. You’ve been planning this for some time and enjoyed giving yourself a little self-care session. Austin’s been so busy with the press and interviews for Elvis that you’ve hardly seen him recently. You miss him and, to be frank, you miss his dick too. The weeks of self-pleasure were a little nice at first but grew old very quickly. Ever since he got back yesterday, your horniness has bumped up to a level 1000. You need him. Badly.

But while he’s been gone you’ve also done some research and realized that it could be fun to try something different. Maybe he deserved to be punished a little. After all, he had left you for almost a year to run around the world, take photos, and do interviews. You know how many other people in the world want him and that makes you incredibly jealous. You think maybe it’s about time to remind Austin who he belongs to.

“Popcorn and candy,” Austin says, entering the room with a huge smile.

He’s wearing a pair of black basketball shorts and nothing else, just the way you like it. His shorts are hanging incredibly low on his hips and you can see all of his abs and other muscles flexing as he places the food down on the coffee table in front of you. You bite your lip as he plops onto the couch next to you. He lifts up the blanket and places his hand on your thigh as you swing your legs onto his lap and press play on the remote.

The movie starts to roll and you grab some of the popcorn from the bowl, excitement growing deep in your stomach as you wait for Austin to notice. A few minutes into the movie, his warm hand starts to trail up your leg and slip onto the inside of your thigh. His fingers travel further up your leg, pushing the fabric of your t-shirt aside. Well, his t-shirt actually. As soon as his fingers gently slide over onto your lower stomach, his eyes go wide. You stay focused on the movie but glance over at Austin out of the corner of your eye to see his reactions.

His eyebrows furrow as his finger crawls lower, just barely brushing the top of your clit. You feel the corner of your mouth curling up into a smirk but quickly flatten your lips to play coy. It wasn’t unusual for you to wear Austin’s shirts without a pair of shorts underneath, but to wear just his shirt with nothing else at all is something that you’ve never done before.

“You’re not, um…wearing any panties?” Austin asks. He leans his head back against the top of the couch to glance over into your eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I just didn’t really feel like wearing any,” you respond, keeping your eyes glued to the television and refusing to look over at him. “But if that’s a problem, I can go put some on.”

You shift, acting like you’re getting up to go grab a pair of panties. Austin’s hand flies to your wrist, gripping onto it. He tries to pull you back down, but you resist and pull your arm away.

“No, no. I like it," he says quickly.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, moving to stand right in front of him. “How do you like your t-shirt on me?”

You pull the shirt up to the tops of your thighs, teasing him with a little sneak peek of your pussy. You watch as his eyes widen and then travel down your figure. You take a step forward and stretch your leg out, placing it on top of his knee and curling your toes into his skin.

“A little help, please?”

You gesture toward your sock and Austin nods as a small smirk crosses his face. He leans down, tucking his fingers between your sock and skin. He slowly curls the fabric down your leg and foot, lifting up your calf and sliding the sock off of your foot. Once he’s removed it, you take it from his grasp. He tries to lean forward and press a kiss to your leg, but you draw it back and place your foot on the ground instead. You stick your other foot back to remove the other sock. Once you have them both in your hands, you look back at Austin and smile sweetly. You hold one of the socks on your pointer finger and swirl it around twice before you let it fall to the ground. You dramatically gasp, putting your fingers to your lips.

“Oh no!” you say. “I’m so clumsy. Whoopsie.”

You turn to the side, bending over to pick up your socks. You arch your back as you slowly lower your top half down. When the t-shirt slides up your back, revealing the bottom half of your naked body, you don’t stop it. You can feel Austin’s eyes on you, tracing down your body and taking in all of your curves, illuminated by the blue flashing lights of the tv screen.

Once you have the socks in your fingers, you snap yourself back up and the shirt falls back down to cover you. You peer back over at Austin who has slunk down on the couch, his legs spread, plump lips popped open, eyes growing dark.

“What are you staring at?” you whisper. “See something you like?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” he responds and moves to stand up. You laugh, flattening your palm on his chest and pushing him back down onto the couch.

“Yeah? What do you like? Tell me.”

He scoffs, biting his lip and tossing his head to the side. He thinks you’re joking? Well, you’re not. You step forward and press your fingers into his chest again. You lean over his body, allowing the ends of your hair to tickle his skin.

“You think I’m joking, Aus? Tell me. Tell me what you see that you like.”

“I like those hips, the way they move on my dick. I like that ass, the perfect size and so thick. I like those tits, so round and perfect,” he bites his lip as he reaches out and tries to grab onto one of your breasts. You scold him with a tsk and a wag of your finger.

“No touching. Not yet, anyway. Keep telling me what you like. Go on.”

“I like…this hair, this beautiful soft hair. And this waist,” he reaches out to place his hands on your hips. You latch onto his wrists, stopping his hands from touching you.

“I said no touching. If you can't follow my directions, I'm gonna have to restrain you.”

You can hear his breath hitch at your words and smirk, padding over to the kitchen where one of Austin’s ties is hanging off the back of a chair. You grab it and walk back toward Austin, stretching it taught between your hands. You can see his chest rising and falling faster now. You throw the blanket off of his legs.

“Y/N I don’t know about this-”

“Shhhh,” you say, reaching up to pull the tie around his wrists. “Let mommy take care of you. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

You pull the tie tightly around his wrists and stretch his arms up above his head, resting them on the back of the couch. When you step back, your eyes travel down his body to take in all of his muscles, stretched out and flexed. You bite your lip, reaching down to drag your finger across his jawline. You let it trail down his neck, collarbone, chest, and down his stomach. When you slip your finger under the waistband of his pants, you watch his stomach flex.

“Mmm, you like that don’t you?” you ask. “Don’t you?”

Austin doesn’t respond and, instead, tries to reach forward and grab onto your hips again. You back away at the last second and scold him once more. You reach forward, grabbing onto his jaw with your fingers and shaking your head.

“Such a disobedient boy. So naughty,” you say with a click of your tongue. “You’ve left me no choice. I guess I’ll have to punish you.”

You grab ahold of his shorts and boxers, sliding them off his hips and down his legs. His member springs to life and you hum in approval.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, baby. You already want me that badly?”

You press your hands on either side of his head to climb on top of him, making sure that you’re seated far enough up on his chest to avoid touching his dick. He cranes his neck up to look at you.

“You know I missed you while you were gone. It wasn’t very nice of you to leave me for so long. Taking care of myself got old so quickly. And then I started thinking about all those women, all those men who are throwing themselves at you, who want you like I get to have you. And I guess I just got a little jealous. Felt like I need to remind them who fucking owns you. Because I own you, don’t I, baby? Isn’t that right?”

Austin nods slowly. You grab onto his jaw again, arching your back so that you can lean down close to his face.

“Isn’t that fucking right, Austin?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y/N…”

You squeeze his jaw before letting your fingers trail down onto his neck. You press your fingers deep into the skin, squeezing onto his throat. Your hand barely makes it halfway around his throat but it achieves the desired effect anyway. You feel his neck stretch out as his head leans back onto the couch. He gazes up at you with lust-filled eyes and runs his perfectly pink tongue over his teeth and lips.

“Yes what, Austin Robert?”

“Yes, mommy,” he gives in.

“Mhm, that’s my good boy,” you lean down, pressing your lips to his.

Your lips move in rhythm and you slide your tongue along his. He opens his mouth for you with no fight and you slide your tongue in. He tilts his head to get better access to you, exploring the inside of your mouth. You bite down on his bottom lip, pulling it out and then releasing it. He breathes out heavily, reaching his arms down to try and touch you again. You push them back up with a shake of your head.

“No touching until I say. Listen to me and be a good boy, now, Aus.”

You push his head to the side and move your lips onto his neck, sucking and biting at the skin. You can feel him arching below you, bucking his hips slightly as you attack his neck. You bite onto the skin underneath his jaw and suck it into your mouth with a pop. You attack the same spot again and he moans under you. You hum against his skin, moving down to suck on the skin above his collarbones.

“Fuck baby…” Austin whispers.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you, Aus?”

You pull back, leaving a trail of wet saliva across his skin. You glance down at it, reflecting the light from the tv screen, and bite your lip. You stick your finger out and drag it across his mouth before putting pressure on his plump lips. Your finger slides into his mouth and his tongue swirls around and sucks on it.

“Yeah, baby, just like that.”

You remove your finger, attaching your lips to his chest. You drag your tongue down his skin, tracing his abs and watching as his muscles flex and release with the stimulation of your tongue on his skin. You reach the area right above his dick and pull back, dropping onto your knees in front of him. You tap the top of his dick and smirk as it twitches in response.

“You want mommy to suck your dick, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah…”

“Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider it.”

“Please.”

“You should know better than that by now, Austin. Say it right.”

“Please, suck my dick mommy. I wanna see how far you can take it in your throat.”

You hum in response and stick your tongue out to lick the very tip of his dick, tasting the salty precum leaking out. You lick it up, gazing back up at Austin’s eyes as you do. His mouth is shaped in an O, his hands brushed onto his forehead to pull on his beautiful golden locks.

“So tasty, baby,” you mumble against his dick.

You draw a stripe up his length with your tongue, and he releases a loud contented sigh. You do it again only to watch him shudder underneath you. You wrap your fingers around his length, slowly giving him a few good pumps, running your thumb over the tip when you come to it. With every swipe you make, he moans. You finally lower your lips down onto his tip, kissing it and then taking it into your mouth. You suck the tip, releasing it with a pop. He whimpers, bucking his hips up.

“You want more baby? Tell me.”

He says nothing at first, so you release his dick and move like you’re going to stand up.

“Please. More,” he shouts.

You giggle, moving your head to take his full length into your mouth. You allow your spit to gather around his skin. You grab onto the base of it, using your fingers to spread the saliva and precum all around his length. You begin to bob your head up and down, and Austin moans.

“Fuck, Y/N…uhhhh,” he breaths out and reaches down, tangling his hand into your hair. You pull back, glaring up at him.

“I said no touching. From now on, every time you touch me, I stop. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, mommy.”

“That’s my good boy. Keep behaving and maybe you’ll get to cum soon.”

You return to his dick, taking the entire length and feeling it touching the back of your throat. You gag momentarily, pulling back with a string of spit sticking to his hard member. You giggle, glancing up at Austin. His bottom lip is white, stuck between his teeth. His hands are gripping hard onto his hair and his chest heaves up and down with lusty breaths. You give his dick one last slow, long lick, flicking your tongue off the top of his tip. You pull away and he whimpers, bucking his hips into the empty air above him. You stand and grab onto the tie around his wrists, stretching his arms all the way above his head. You lean down, whispering into his ear.

“Tell mommy what you want, baby. Say it. Beg for it.”

Austin whimpers under you, his eyebrows knitted above his gorgeous blue eyes. You smirk, dragging a finger up his length. He shudders underneath you with another whine.

“I’m not doing a thing until you tell me what you want,” you say. “You have to say it out loud. I wanna hear it.”

You drag another finger up his dick, circling it around the tip only once. The slimy precum spreads all around the head and you run your tongue over your teeth.

“Damn, baby, you’re so fucked out for me, aren’t you? Taste how bad you want me,” you say, bringing your finger up to his lips. You shove it between his teeth again and his tongue swirls around your finger to lick up his own juices. “Good. Now tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Fuck, mommy,” he whines.

“Not good enough. Say the words.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck I want your pussy,” he says, jerking upright. You push him back down with equal force. “I want my dick in your tight wet pussy. I wanna fuck you so hard you see stars. I want your hips moving all around my dick, making me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

“Such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want. You followed my directions, so now you get the reward,” you lean down to whisper in his ear.

You let your breath tickle him and bite onto his earlobe before pulling away. Although your main objective has been to tease Austin this whole time, you’ve inadvertently been teasing yourself as well. Your pussy is throbbing, dripping wet for Austin’s dick. His beautiful, perfect length that you’ve been dreaming of and thinking about every day since he’d left. You slowly, agonizingly lower yourself onto him, using your hand to hold him steady. As soon as you descend onto his length, you and Austin both moan in unison.

“Fuckkk,” Austin breathes out, bucking his hips up.

“No moving. I’ll do all the work. You just lay there and be pretty, babe,” you say, slightly distracted by the intense pounding in your pussy as it adjusts to his length in you.

He leans back, his chest glistening with sweat as it heaves breaths in and out. You place your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you begin to move up and down on his hard dick. You arch your back as you come down, pushing yourself against him. With all the foreplay and teasing that you’d put yourself and Austin through, he slides in and out of you with ease.

“Fuck, Austin, you feel so good,” you growl. “So fucking good while you fill me up.”

“Ah, shit,” Austin breathes out, and you can see him clench his fingers and flex his hands in the restraints. “You ride me so good baby girl, fuck.”

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you baby boy. I know you do,” you moan out, increasing your speed.

As your pleasure grows, you start to ride him faster and faster, gradually taking more of his length into you with each thrust of your hips. Austin moans and groans, clenching his jaw and biting his lip. He starts to lean up and you push him back down, his back slamming against the couch. He whimpers with the force of the impact.

“No,” you say breathlessly. “No touching until you’re about to cum, do you hear me?”

“Yes mommy,” he replies, too aroused to bother putting up a fight.

You swirl your hips around Austin’s dick, the air filling with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Austin’s muscles flex and relax over and over again, reacting to your movements. You reach up and wrap a hand around his throat again, pushing up at the sensitive nerves in the sides of his neck. As you move on him, you feel the pleasure growing inside of you. Your movements slow a little as you try to focus on the sensations in your lower stomach and pussy. Austin’s moans start to increase and his hips buck up and down against you. Your own moans grow higher and higher pitched as you grind on his hard dick.

“Fuck, mommy, fuck I’m gonna…ugh I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum,” Austin whines and you reach up to quickly untie his wrists.

Once he’s free, his hands immediately drop to your waist, gripping hard onto your hips and pulling your body up and down on his dick. You lean over him, bracing yourself on the couch as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and biting on your sensitive nipple. You yelp, your back arching as your body starts to shudder with the strength of your orgasm. You feel Austin’s dick twitch inside you as he releases his hot cum into your pussy. As you come down from your own orgasm, you shake against him, feeling the sticky sweat on the underside of your knees.

The room grows quiet, filled only with the sound of your mixing breaths. You climb off of him, sliding onto the couch and trying to get ahold of your heartbeat. Austin’s fingers curl around yours, squeezing.

“Damn, Y/N,” Austin says quietly. “That was hot as fuck, baby.”

You glance over at him, appreciating how fucked out he looks. His sweaty hair is disheveled, ruffled, and stuck to his head with sweat. His whole body is glistening with sweat and hot to the touch. His cheeks are flushed and eyes are half-closed, lazy and glazed over with that post-sex euphoria. His muscles are still taught as he flexes to breathe and then relaxes to release the breath.

“See, aren’t you glad we tried something new.”

“God I missed you,” he says with a handsome smile. You lean over to kiss him sweetly on the lips, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

“I missed you too, Aus.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

taglist: @mrsjna @floralcyanide @austinbutler17 @slutforsomegoodlettuce @cb97slut @datsavageavenger @misspygmypie @yourfriendhenrywinter @queenslandlover-93 @kittenlittle24 @slutforblueeyes @theliterarybeldam @guns-n-queen @x-earthangel @adoreyouusugar @butler-trouble @kaycinema @mamaspresley @dontbesussis @littledanette @yagirlalexx @hangmanswhore @dark-as-love @adoreyouusugar @gemstone9 @austin-butlers-gf @dollfaceyourfear @dances-and-dolly-dresses @coldonexx @austin-butlers-gf @sagesolsticewrites @mommy-maia @atombombbibunny @lexlexl3x @solo-pitstop-vibes @hopefulinlove @lordandmistress @domaniquessidehoe @elvismylove-blog @amiets2 @itsametaphorbriansblog

#austin butler #milasthings #milasaustincontent #milasfics #milasaustinfics #elvis #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #dirty deeds

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chloe--bug · 1 year

Text

40 days and 40 nights for a period that makes me see god

I’m in my parents’ backyard in Texas, watching the sunlight filter through the branches of this big oak tree that must’ve seen a thousand lives before me. I wanted to write to you a little life update. The essence of it is: I’ve never been this good before, and I’m crying about how positively I’m interpreting the fig tree metaphor, and I have my period in a really literary way right now.

Life is a thousand years long, and only a moment, all at the same time. What seems solid and unchanging will always crumble in an instant and nothing will ever grow there again as it had before. Virginie Despentes wrote about that. You live further outside of your body than you might think, and you’re usually looking into the universe or perhaps some dense fog instead of within, always seeing yourself, never looking into a mirror. There will always be this huge thing that is every moment and every memory and every wish all the time. It will be breakfast and lunch and dinner and the creak in every floorboard and every stranger at the coffee shop, and you will reach for it and wrap around it and yearn for it inside of you. And it will follow you, attached at your feet like your shadow, to the places you wanted to go alone, and the places you needed to be with only one other. Sometimes it becomes realer and, in turn softer, or sometimes it gnaws at you until you just fucking hate it, and sometimes it just sort of grows differently than you and one day you set it down and forget to pick it back up again. The latter is the strangest. To feel something in your teeth when you wake up every morning, and to cry for it to eat you alive, then to one day feel the same way about it that you feel about a shirt you never wear anymore. It’s just weird, your life will always happen in seasons, none of them ever stretching too far.

Four years in Savannah, each of them sweeter than the last, watching the city get smaller and my perfect house fill up with photo booth strips and endless pieces of art school ephemera. The same three bars and the same twenty or so friends and the same bike route and grocery store and park and exes and weird stories and people I can’t stand. Four years and then last week I told my shrink I’d need her help finding a new one, because I decided I’m moving. Because I get to decide this sort of thing now. I sort of approached it sheepishly at first, thinking I’d toy with the way those words sounded from my position on her couch, then I meant it, and it was real. So I decided.

I did everything I could to spend almost all 365 days of 2022 in Savannah. I felt like I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t miss a moment, it was impossible to imagine what would happen if I spent a Saturday alone at the beach. I was pining. Yearning for someone intensely of course. I have never known what it’s like to want something a little bit. When I want, I want like I want to swim in the fountains within someone, I want to drink their thoughts so bad you’d think I was some traveler in the heat of the desert; I want to wash myself in their sweat. I want to pour every ounce of myself into their cup and watch it overflow over and over – knowing it could never hold me, I want to give all of me to them regardless. Where else would I go? But oh, my god, no one ever talks about how marvelous it is to feel that want dissipate. I’ve spent so much of this year away from home and I never worried about it.

Atlanta earlier in April was something else. Just one night, it didn’t end well, but a funny story if you leave out the bad parts. Charleston for groceries by myself because I finished my work early. Florida with my sisters for the weekend was sweet and slow and warm and quiet. Austin to visit friends, I just got back today, and it was so fun I couldn’t hold in my heart from bursting the whole time. I don’t think I stopped smiling at all. It’s beautiful and people are smarter and kinder there. I saw old friends and new friends and they all have lives and jobs and apartments now and I couldn’t even handle it. And now here, at my parents’ house, getting a pedicure with my mom and watching Marley roam in the backyard. My parents have their own lives now that we don’t live here anymore. I feel like the adult now.

Two months of freelance work that I didn’t really look or ask for, then two perfect job interviews last week. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t care, there are so many good options I’m excited about all of them, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I really am the happiest girl in the world. I’d argue it in front of a judge. I’ve never been this good. I thought I was going to die 11 days after I turned 17. When I was a kid this was all I ever wanted and now I have it and the weather has been beautiful everywhere I’ve been for the past two months consistently. I think I’m just always going to be confounded with a happy day, let alone a perfect month.

I had to wait 40 days and 40 nights for my period. I’m like Jesus in that way. You don’t trust the Clearblue “NOT PREGNANT” flashing at you when you’re a girl who loves sleeping with a vast array of men and hates using condoms. Peeing in the graffitied pink stall in the bathroom of a karaoke bar we were drinking ranch waters at last night, I saw blood on my shorts and started laughing out loud. It’s all just continuing to feel so serendipitous. If this goes on forever, I’ll never get anything done because I can’t stop smiling and hugging whoever’s nearest.

By the end of the week I’ll know whether or not I’ve got to pack up and move to DC. I’ll be happy either way. I just wanted to write to you happy for once. I’ll let you know what happens next :p

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linkmclaughlin · 2 years

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Heyyyy. So I wanted to talk about the concern of expense about randl's tickets. First, I'd like to say that they aren't doing a con like most youtubers do. I've met a youtuber on their tour. The tickets were $200 each. It was a 2 hour show, not much to bring. Looked low budget for a damn rich man.

Rhett and link's tickets are $100 more than that in the beast pass. There is a reasonable amount of things included in this pass for $300. Comparing to other expensive shows from YouTubers, there are not many things like this at all. This entire thing does not sound low budget. I understand that there is expenses to travel. But people are thinking about the ticket cost in general. It's a very reasonable cost for what they're doing. No, I am not some lowlife that can just afford anything. I understand why you think it's so expensive.

I'm queer and poc who've been to the south and live in a state considered the south all my life. Poc and queers who've never visited the south, you don't have anything to worry about. People make it look worse than it is. I literally prefer the south over anything. You're not going to set foot in the state and start getting attacked. A majority don't gaf about who you are to bother you and Austin TX is not bad for you.

Rhett and Link improve more and more over time for things like this. There are many who immediately think something is going to downfall before giving them a chance and it is unfair. I feel bad that they have to see negative feedback and assumptions of Mythicon before it even started. Everything might not be your taste y'all, but I thought the cover looked pretty damn good.

Thank you for this! I agree with you on the pricing. I get why it’s expensive. It’s a lot more than just a con. It’s just a little much for down people. Maybe one day they’ll make one that costs a little less!

Also yes. The south can be scary. But, it’s not all bad everywhere. Esp in big tourists cities I’m sure haha

#asks

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anachronisticcrab · 3 years

Text

Solangelo Headcanons

So I’ve got a lot of these cause I’m such a simp for Nico and Will (feel free to ask me about any other Headcanons on either character, cause I’ve got LOTS)

They’re both massive nerds, but neither of them really like the same kind of things

Like, Will is more of a Star Wars and Star Trek fan, he loves Harry Potter more than life itself, and reads medical textbooks and animal books for fun

But Nico is such a linguistics and mythology nerd, we all know he loves Pokémon and DND, and he’s really into classic literature and art

They both spend 90% of their dates geeking out over their interests, and even when they talk about something the other doesn’t understand, they’re super supportive and sweet cause they’re both cute geeks

As much as they aren’t interested in the same things for the most part, they do have a few interests in common (pirates, astronomy, Dreamworks and Disney animated movies, The Princess Bride, Lord of the Rings, music, marvel and DC)

They absolutely have movie marathon dates. It’s their favourite thing. Their favourite movie series’ are Pirates of the Caribbean, Night at the Museum, and The Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

Nico loves watching Star Wars with Will because Will mumbled the lines along with the characters and does little lightsaber noises along with it and he’s so cute

Will likes watching movie adaptions of classic lit with Nico because he points out everything that’s different from the books, why the movies are bad, and insists on pausing it to go on rants about everything they got wrong. Will fucking loves it

They both have tattoos. Will’s got the sun over his chest, and a small semi colon on his left wrist next to a treble clef. Nico’s got a semicolon on his right wrist next to a bass clef

Will loves Halloween, and Nico could take it or leave it (he never did anything for it because he grew up in Italy), but Nico does couples costumes because Will looks at him with puppy dog eyes and Nico’s helpless

They’ve gone as Jed and Octavian from Night at the Museum; Buzz Lightyear and Woody; those two crazy pirates from Pirates of the Caribbean (the one with the wooden eye who dressed up in drag, and the short one who got upset over parlay); 1930’s mobsters; Adam and Barbara Maitland from Beetlejuice; Han Solo and Luke Skywalker

They actually talk to Mr. D, and that’s why they’re his favourite— they play poker with him, they talk to him, they treat him like anyone else and he lives them for it

Will loves every single one of Nico’s siblings (Rachel, Hazel, Reyna, Meg, Jason, Connor, Travis, Percy, Tyson, Estelle, Chiara, Piper, etc). They share ridiculous Nico stories and plan pranks on him— they all adore Will

Will’s siblings and friends lowkey love Nico more than Will. He brings them McDonalds, teases Will and makes Will blush, attempts archery to try to bond with them (he really tries, but he’s just really awful), he tells Will’s little siblings bedtime stories. Nico’s just really awkward, and he really tries, and they all love him. Of course, Cecil, Lou Ellen, Austin, and Kayla bug Nico a lot because he’s so awkward, but the truth is they really, really, really like him

Will is horrible at music. Like, truly horrible at anything to do with music. But he has an encyclopedic knowledge of music from over the last 200 years, and randomly quotes lyrics and talks about musical theory all day long

In contrast, Nico is amazing at playing piano and guitar, plus he enjoys playing the drums. He’s really musically talented, but knows nothing about the theory behind it or about the artists. Whenever Nico tries to learn a new song, Will nerds out over the musician/background of the song/cool lyrical devices that make it an amazing song. Nico frickin loves it

Nico loves cooking, while Will can’t cook for his life. Like someone get this boy some help, he almost burnt down his mom’s house while microwaving popcorn. They agreed that Nico would cook and Nico would clean

Nico can’t drive for shit. I mean, cars don’t exist in the city where he grew up (there’s not enough room for vehicles on the few roads in Venice), and even if there were, he’s Italian and gay (sorry about the stereotypes there, but I really can’t see Nico being a good driver). Will drives them everywhere or gets Jules-Albert to drive them, and hides Nico’s drivers license to ‘protect the public from his menace of a boyfriend’

You know how I mentioned the no vehicles in Venice thing? Yeah, no bikes are in the city either. Will taught Nico to ride a bike after the Giants War (before they started dating). Hazel took videos and pictures cause Nico was freaking out over it and yelling at Will not to let him die

Will finds animals on the street and adopts them. Nico begrudgingly helps Will to take care of the animals until they find good homes for them (mostly from people in New Rome)

Unfortunately, Will gets attached to them, and now they have 5 cats, 2 dogs, 3 snakes, 4 lizards, and a blue Jay

They’re both really grumpy in the morning. If you wake either of them up, they will probably bite your hand off

They like going on runs a lot? They’ll go on jogs once a day if possible, and they’ll chat or share earbuds while doing so

They go on dates on canoe lake a lot. They like to have races on the canoes, and to just float out away from everyone else (they totally don’t joke about being pirates or pretend to be pirates while on the lake, that’d be ridiculous and childish)

When Will’s been in the infirmary for too long, Nico walks in and throws a Kit Kat at his head, and then drags him out of the infirmary (sometimes by his ear, sometimes by his hand, depending on how long Will’s been in there for or how annoyed Nico is that day)

Nico’s teaching Will how to speak Venetian (he sucks at it, but Nico appreciates the effort)

Nico takes a long time to get used to PDA, and even after they’ve been dating for years, Nico’s really only comfortable with holding hands and hugs (plus cheek kisses or quick pecks) in public. Will’s fine with it, and he didn’t stop smiling for three days after Nico first pecked him on the cheek in public

International dates! Paris, Venice, Milan, Madrid, Banff, Athens, Cairo, Tokyo, Sydney, Ho Chi Minh, everywhere! They love travelling!

They have a lot of conversations where they tell the other how amazing they are (since they’re both pretty self-deprecating, and they think the world of the other, it ends up with them just going ‘shut up you’re beautiful, why do you put up with me’ for hours on end)

Dates on roofs! Nico and Will point out constellations at night and cloud watch during the day. They have picnics on the roof of the Big House, and the Hades and Apollo cabins all the time

They buy each other Funko Pop figures for birthdays, Christmas, and basically anytime they want to get each other a gift

#pjo #HoO #TOA #hoo #nico di angelo #og post #Will solace #Percy Jackson #jason grace #Austin lake #austin and kayla #kayla knowles #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Leo Valdez #solangelo #solangelo headcanons #so many of them

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softieteez · 3 years

Text

backstory

warning: death, cancer, drinking, mental abuse, some physical abuse, cussing, crying, anxiety attacks, suicidal thoughts, child neglect

genre: angst

summary: before ivy even got to her teen years, things were more difficult than most adults lives. from losing her dad, to experiencing neglect.

a/n: ivy’s story is pretty deep. feel free to skip this post if you are triggered by anything listed. also i’ll be using her birth name a lot throughout this story.

languages: normal = english. italic = korean

olivia min was born june 4, 2001 in michigan. she is the youngest of three siblings. miya, the oldest, was born february 20, 1997. and austin, the middle child, was born august 4, 1999.

growing up, olivia had an amazing relationship with her family members. her parents were always really supportive of anything she wanted to do. and her siblings, were annoying, but they all love each other so much. the family was pretty middle class, maybe more upper middle class. they had enough money to buy nice things and go on trips, which was nice and it gave the kids experiences they’d always remember.

when she was a baby, the families friend jax, had given her the nickname ‘ivy.’ the name stuck with him and eventually spread to friends at school. but her family members always called her olivia or jisoo, her korean name.

in school she was a social butterfly, running around recess practically collecting friends like they were collectors items. and because of her loving nature, no one could say no. she’s also very smart, she’s always had straight a’s and was usually willing to participate in class. teacher would say she was a sweet and smart little girl, and of course she could make the class burst into giggles at any second.

olivia started dancing at the young age of 4 when her parents enrolled her into dance classes. there, she met new friends and became one of the best youth dancers in their town.

her grandparents lived in ohio, which meant a lot of the times they would travel there for the holidays. olivia had a friend named aggy that lived there.

aggy lived next door to ivy’s grandparents. she was diagnosed with leukemia only five months before meeting the family, this was when ivy was maybe 7 years old.

through the years, ivy excelled in everything from piano lessons that she started when she was 5, to even cooking. she was a cheerful and happy little girl. until she reached age 9 when her dad was diagnosed with lung cancer.

this was a huge reality hit. she didn’t really understand it though, her dad was healthy. until he wasn’t. she remembers that day so clearly

“where’s mom and dad?” olivia asked walking into the kitchen and seeing her sister sitting next to their sleeping brother on the couch

“hospital, grandma and grandpa will be here in a few hours. for now our neighbors are gonna look after us”

“hospital? but why?” the little girl tilted her head

“i don’t know olivia. go back to sleep it’s early” miya did know, she saw her dad getting worse and worse as the months went on. but the last thing anyone wanted to do was worry anymore people. especially austin and olivia.

“okay…” she responded and went back toward her bedroom.

a few hours later she woke up to her grandma shaking her awake “wake up olivia. grandpa and i brought lunch.” the elderly woman spoke

olivia smiled at her grandmother as she sat up and stretched. the girl walked to the kitchen.

she still remembers all the yummy food her grandparents made, now knowing it was out of grief. later that night was when her parents revealed the truth to the kids.

and suddenly her whole world collapsed.

she would miss dance class and sometimes even school because her father would be in the hospital. because her mom and dad were always gone, she and her other siblings were expected to help around the house. occasionally with their grandparent by their side.

when she turned 10, she didn’t have much of a birthday blow out. and her present was some nail polish because that was all her family could afford at the time. when she turned 11, they spent her birthday in the hospital. her dads condition became so much worse that he wasn’t able to leave the hospital.

“i’m sorry you have to spend your birthday like this livvy” her dad held her had. his skin was paler than usual. colder too.

“it’s okay dad, i’m just happy we’re all here” she smiled as she held back tears. but her dad knew she wanted to cry.

“me and your mom got you something” he smiled and looked at his wife. the woman smiled sadly and reach in her purse to pull out a small purple box.

olivia grabbed the box from her mothers hand and opened it slowly. a beautiful butterfly necklace was revealed.

“it took a little while for us to find the perfect one” her moms sniffled. “we wanted you to love it”

thinking back on that moment. ivy now understood they wanted it to be special because it would be the last gift she would ever receive from her father.

“thank you mommy. thank you daddy” she whispered and pecked her dads forehead.

sadly, on june 29, her father passed away in the middle of the night. for some reason, her brain blocks this moment out. it’s all a blur.

her and her sister were sleeping on the little couch the nurses had set up and her brother was laying on the sleeping bag he had brought on the floor. it happened so suddenly. she woke up to her mom hysterically crying and weeping.

her brother and sister were frantic as nurses guided them three of them out of the room. but she does remember the last look she had at her dad.

he didn’t look real, more like a painting. or a sculpture maybe. his skin was practically white and his body was lifeless.

her whole family was in a depression, especially her mom. after losing her husband, she started drinking to numb the pain.

her grandparents left ohio and went back to korea completely unannounced. it was up to miya and austin to take care of themselves, each other, and of course olivia.

after a month of her fathers passing. the family had got a call from aggy’s mom informing them that aggy passed away july 25. so now she lost her dad and her best friend. along with that her mom isn’t stable enough to take care of her and her siblings, and her grandparents were m.i.a.

when she turned 12, that’s when her moms drinking got worse. she was living off of beer and tv dinners. she was also now mentally abusive toward her children.

austin became the child that started work. he would work late at night and then go to school all day. he was responsible for the families income at age 14.

miya was rarely ever home as well, but she was gone to escape their mom. she would rebel, hang out with her boyfriend, who ivy later found out was physically abusive.

then ivy was the kid that did the chores. she would also clean the neighbors houses to help pay her dance fees. the neighbors would always feel bad so they’d usually give her $30 for each chore she did. that was barely enough though.

and somehow, none of their friends ever noticed anything. except for austin’s, he’s always shut down plans to work and was overly tired all the time. but the friends did start noticing behavior changes

ivy became really depressed and spent most of her days just waiting for them to end.

the family got some income from the bank after the fathers passing. the kids were all in his will, earning $114k each. but they wouldn’t receive that until age 18.

around this time, ivy got into contact with her grandparent. begging day after day to move their and live out her dream of being an idol. her siblings would even call and beg the grandparents to let her, not wanting her to experience this life anymore.

after months of begging, her grandparents finally agreed to move her out to korea. she had already submitted audition videos to big companies like sm, jyp, yg, bighit etc.

she was 13 when she was officially moved into korea. she lived with her grandma and grandpa for a month before moving into the jyp dorms. she trained there for a year before being sent off to audition for produce 101.

during this time, she experienced great stress. her anxiety and depression led to suicidal thoughts and almost had to leave the show because of it. many fans who were supporting her throughout the show noticed her getting skinnier and skinnier by the episode.

somi, who became her best friend instantly, was also worried for her. ivy felt bad that she was worrying people. but she couldn’t help it, her mind controlled her. her thoughts were always telling her to do something. she would practice all the time and forget to eat.

somi would often watch after her to make sure she would at least eat a bagel and drink water everyday.

it wasn’t long before ivy would share her story, only parts of it publicly. her story reached american headlines, meaning her family and friends had seen it.

she was struggling for years. and it was only recently when she found inner happiness. she worked hard during produce, and didn’t win. and of course, she left jyp and moved to kq where she met her life long friends.

her boys have helped her so much, they were there to listen to her story, to hug her when she cried.

those are her boys, her family. her home.

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lol-jackles · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you watched the episode ' Duke' of Walker, I watched it and enjoyed a lot. But I was a little confused on few of the details. I thought Walker was out of town for the Rodeo kings case. But both in the flashbacks and present they show the 'annunziata's karaoke bar' and Liam says Cordell is trying to get Twyla out of Austin. Not a US native so I didn't understand the aspect of out of town and out of Austin. Also why did Walker apologize to his son in the end? Wasn't it supposed to be other way round? I have a feeling that this is not the end of Duke's story or atleast I wish it isn't. I hope we get to see more of what happened in those "undercover" months. And did crystal give something to Duke before she drove away? I saw he was holding something but they didn't highlight it.

I m enjoying the show so far, what about you?

Yes Cordell was out of town during his undercover operation. The bank robbers traveled with the rodeo circuit, making it difficult for local law enforcement to nab them. While Texas has over 1,900 law enforcement agencies, more than any other state, however most of these agencies are small operations of fewer than 20 sworn officers and they lack the personnel or expertise to handle complex cases like homicides (the Rodeo Kings apparently had killed people). So this is where the Texas Rangers comes in. You don't want the Texas Rangers on your trail and they have a serious history of making the case close quickly (which is probably why the FBI was annoyed that it took Cordell 10 months to close the Rodeo King case).

“Out of town” and ‘out of Austin” is the same thing. Americans commonly say, “get out of town” or “don’t leave town” no matter how small the village or how big the city. TV cop shows reflect this common saying by having the police tell characters “don’t leave town” in case he needs to be questioned or even arrested. The Annunziata bar was not in Austin and why Duke took Twyla there.

August is a 15 years old kid, his world view is small and he was ruled by his emotion - fear. He doesn’t know he’s supposed to apologize. Just like Stella, it will take him two more episodes to gain a measure of self awareness and then apologize to Cordell like Stella did in episode 3. I think Cordell apologized to August because he truly felt bad for not only yelling at him (tho he had to) but for not being there for his kids soon after their mother’s death. August’s entire angst was his fear that his father will leave again, choosing his job over his family. He doesn’t know Twyla is a bank robber, he thought she was part of the law enforcement that worked undercover with his father.

I think we’ll see more of Duke in flashbacks since it took so long for Cordell to close the case and he went dark for long measures to the point that Liam thought he should get custody of Stella and August. I think he left the Rodeo Kings in Arizona to do an off-the-book investigation of another case.

I thought Duke had something in his hand when Crystal was escaping but they didn’t make a big deal over it so I assume it was a phone to communicate with Liam.

I’m enjoying Walker as a feel good entertainment, plus I like neo Western in general. I like the whole Walker family. Micki is very pretty, especially with her hair down and she has a good attitude, but I’m not interested in her backstory.

#walker #jared padalecki

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crushing-on-nico-di-angelo · 3 years

Text

Seven Nights in Cabin Thirteen

I’m inspired by another post I saw here that I didn’t wish to hijack lol, and OP deactivated or else I’d link their account here. credits to @the-ghost-king for the idea of a demigod therapy/Will being a past drug addict on this post. Yes this is a bad fic. It’s also my first fic ever. Please criticize if you see anything

Will never thought that he would ever appreciate his first monster attack. He was seven years old, and in hindsight his teacher probably only worked there to prey on young demigods (at least, that’s why he suspects the attack happened so early in his life compared to other demigods). But when Lee Fletcher sat him down 4 years later and told him that he was trans and would now be known as Lee instead of his birth name, Will knew that everything happened for a reason.

After many conversations with Lee about how he knew (gods bless that man’s patience) and with an older Athena camper who’s special interest dealt in psychology, Will realized the reason that he always felt disconnected from his mom and sisters in Austin was because he was like Lee. He was a boy.

Telling people wasn’t easy. Of course his older brother had to know; he was the one who introduced Will to this concept. Telling the rest of camp was as easy as telling Chiron, who told Dionysus, who always threatened to turn anyone into a dolphin if they talked shit about any trans kid. Telling his mom... that had to be the hardest part. How was he supposed to tell them? The only similarities they all had were that they were all musically inclined and that they were all girls.

Apparently, Will forgot that Naomi Solace was a musician. The music industry has more queers than an all girl’s school GSA. Her only questions were “Alright, what’s your name then, kiddo?” and “When do you want to set up an appointment with a therapist?” As for his siblings, well, let’s just say the oldest, Frankie, always knew. And it didn’t take long for seven-year-old Mickey to cut her doll-that-somehow-looked-exactly-like-Will’s hair and change his notes from high to low when she accompanied his singing on violin, as part of voice training.

Four years has passed since then and Will can hardly believe it. He’s stealth back at Austin because it’s just easier that way, but since a quarter of the camp knew him since he was seven, he figured there was no point; it isn’t like anyone treated him as though he wasn’t a man-- er, boy-- at camp anyways. So, life went on. He got his period for the first time during the Battle of Manhattan, that was no fun, but luckily Thalia was cool about it and made sure not to tell anyone. He started binding shortly afterwards, got a couple bruises hear and there. Kayla yelled at him for a week for that one, he remembers fondly. Discovered why it’s better to take off your contacts in the shower... that day isn’t such a fond memory. That was the first and last time he ever made himself bleed. Although, he will say that’s what sparked his interest in medicine and what made him the best doctor Camp Half Blood had seen in decades at the mere age of 15 years old. Life at camp was good, if a bit dull. He got used to the routine and the constant influx of damaged campers, the siblings and friends, and the always-perfect Texas Barbecue and Coke.

That is, until the War Between the Camps happened. Lou Ellen woke Will up before sundown that day and told him their plan. They were to hide in the tall grasses and wait for Camp Jupiter to show their ugly faces. Cecil had the genius idea to paint their faces and arms black so they’d blend into the night better, and Will supposes in the hubub of everything they forgot that his hair nearly (”nearly”) glows, even at night. Until Mr. Nico “I’m so smart, I nearly killed myself shadow travelling” di Angelo pointed it out. Whatever, it made sense at the time. They won the war against Gaea, not without sacrifice, and they finally, finally got past all the wars and destruction and health issues that they were able to just hang out and get to know each other as friends.

And boy, was their friendship amazing. Nico had the best taste in music from Will’s eyes, and that’s saying something because Will is a music snob. Nico could be a little stubborn at times, but that’s alright because so was Will (”Gods damn it, Nico, if you don’t take your medication right this second I will-” “You’ll what? Hm? You’ll force it down my throat? Last I checked that was abuse.”). They fit together so perfectly and became fast friends.

It wasn’t always sunshine and lollipops, though. What is, for a demigod? Will relapsed once and passed out right in front of Nico’s cabin. He was crashing from an exciting high that he hadn’t experienced in so long, and he felt so tired and ashamed of himself. Methamphetamine was a goddamned bitch, so while he was coming out of withdrawals, he made Nico promise not to let him leave the cabin for a week were simmering down. He had to make sure something like this never happened again. They Iris Messaged Chiron and explained the situation, and he understood. He made sure to contact the older son of Dionysus who had been Will’s therapist in the past and said what had happened and they agreed on a session for soon after Will got mostly over his cravings.

So now they had a week of downtime together. Awesome.

“Solace, do you need anything? Are you okay?” Nico asked towards the end of the first full day that withdrawals were over.

“I’m-- fuck. I’m fine. I swear.” He responded unconvincingly.

“That’s not what you said last night... no offense, but I’m not fully inclined to believe you when you look like shit.”

“It- It... it’s not something I’d like to talk about, if that’s alright. And... don’t tell Clarisse, please.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry. But I would like to know if this is going to be a common occ--” Before he could even finish asking, Will was already shaking his head and responding.

“One-time thing only, I promise. Gods, I’m sorry I showed up here at all.”

“Woah, buddy. That’s not what I was saying at all. You’re my best friend, I’m glad you came here.” Will almost couldn’t believe what Nico was saying. Then again, did Nico have very many friends? Nico himself certainly didn’t seem to think so. “In any case, you don’t have to explain what happened, or what led up to this, or anything like that. I don't need to know. What I do need you to do, however, is take a shower. I’m sorry to say so, but you smell like ass.”

“Yeah well, I’m…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. How do you explain to someone that he still wanted his drugs, and he didn’t want to leave the cabin because he knew he would leave to go find some before he would even think about going to his own cabin at this point.

“You don’t have to leave,” Nico said, perhaps sensing his agitation. “I have a shower in the cabin.”

“What the fuck do you mean you have a shower in the cabin?” The shock of this knowledge get him out of his stuck mind. “How did you get plumbing in here? How did Chiron allow this?”

“I helped design my cabin, and while I may not have all the experience in architecture that Annabeth does, I do know a thing or two. I did meet with Isambard Kingdom Brunel, you know.”

“I did not know. You- Who is Isambard Kingdom Brunel?” Will asked

“Oh, some civil engineer who is like a million years old.” Will scoffed at that.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. He was never going to let go of the fact that Nico was technically like 80 years old.

“Oh hush, William.” William… never Will, like most people. William… like he was something special, something that deserved three syllables. “Anyways, like I was saying: take a shower. You look like you were up mowing all of camp with a flashlight.”

Knowing Will’s reaction to drugs, that wasn’t unlikely. He stood up. “Lead the way? I’ve never been around your cabin before.”

Nico’s cabin was unlike any others. Using some sort of Doctor Who-like technology, there was a living room, a kitchen, and one room. Surprisingly, the walls were all light or pastel, a stark contrast from Nico’s general (and unintentional) punk-rock appearance. However, the furniture was all a deep black. Nico led him to his room, a minimalistic one with a bed, a desk, and a lamp. Will wondered where all the personalization was, but made no comment.

“Here’s the shower,” Nico pointed to yet another room in this somehow huge cabin. “If you see something amiss or odd… ignore it.” Will didn’t want to think of the implications of that sentence.

He stepped in the shower and oh my gods, watching the dirt and grime wash off him after his 8 hour high-- which he did not want to think about (and not just because the author doesn’t want to taint his search history), it was too embarrassing-- was a wonderful feeling. He was still tired. He didn’t know why, it didn’t used to be this hard. However, he was pretty sure that he tried to clean the entire outside of the hypnos cabin before going over to the Hades cabin to do the same. This was the first and last time Will would ever thank the gods for Nico’s poor sleeping patterns, he had heard him outside and came to get him before he tired himself out more.

He nearly passed out in the shower again but managed to make it out. He looked around the well-stocked bathroom and realized something that he probably should have bothered to notice before: he didn’t have any clothes with him. Fuck. He wrapped a (black) towel around his chest because he didn’t think his body could take anymore binding and prayed to Dionysus that Nico didn’t notice that his chest wasn’t exactly male.

Luckily, the first thing Nico did say was “Is that a tattoo?”

Will looked down at his sun. “Yeah, it is,” he smiled. He remembered the night he did it, it was kind of hard. He ordered a tattoo gun off amazon and had Frankie do it for him shortly after the Battle of Manhattan. Some people might think it’s in honor of his dad, which is fine. It was really for Lee Fletcher, though. His mom totally freaked, for a really long time, but after his C-PTSD diagnoses she realized that whatever works for him works as long as it isn’t drugs or self harm. He knows she wants a future for him that doesn’t involve music, and that’s why she freaked. She thought it would ruin his chances. But it’s right on his shoulder, only visible in tank tops or no shirt.

"It… its to honor the man who taught me I could be myself." Will said after a small pause.

"That's a very lovely sentiment. If he made that much of an impact on you, he must be a very cool person."

"He was." Will knew that Nico heard the was by the way that Nico nodded solemnly. "I uh… I don't wish to be more of a bother, but do you mind if I go to bed now? That shower really helped."

"Yeah, of course. I can take the couch, you know where my bed is-"

"No, absolutely not." Nico sighed softly, as though he expected this. "I can sleep on the couch, in Austin I actually prefer it to my bed."

"That's-- no offense William, but that's weird."

"It feels less lonely to me," Will protested, then let out a huge yawn.

"Alright cowboy-" Will smiled at Nico's nickname for him "-get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Nighty night, Neeks. Love you." he didn't miss the small smile on Nico's face before he walked away. Will has always been very loose with his 'I love you's like that. He figured it's better to say it too much than not enough.

He had found his old stash the night before, the one that Clovis had helped him forget about. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about last nights events. At the time,he told himself that he shouldn't do anything with it, and put it out of his mind for about a week, but eventually his urge to smoke overcame his self-control. He went on a rampage of cleaning and was absolutely certain he looked like a madman. The worst part is, he didn't even know why he did it. It was as though his rehabilitation hadn't even happened, as though this was something that was as natural as getting a cup of coffee in the morning. He was so mad at himself, so embarrassed.

These thoughts occupied his mind until he fell asleep about an hour after his last words to Nico. He slept with no dreams, for the first time in about a month.

word count: 2,245

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tarlos-spain · 3 years

Text

Sicktember Day 29 - Motion Sickness

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand

Seasickess

Carlos is not used to boats, but a memory from TK's past helps

It was the first time Carlos had traveled by boat and he also knew it would be the last.

He and TK had decided to take a vacation, TK had told him that she would be excited to take him to New York, show him what his life had been like before he went to Austin and let him learn about his past.

That included a short boat ride to the Statue of Liberty. It wasn't more than a few minutes but it was the longest in the cop's life.

"Come, sit here and close your eyes." TK told him when Carlos finished throwing up overboard. "How can people like to travel by boat? It's real torture for the head and stomach."

TK laughed and stroked his cheek.

"Look how over the top you are from time to time, babe." "Over the top? There's nothing over the top about feeling your guts churn like you're inside a washing machine and I assure you not throwing up when you have nothing in your stomach, it's not pleasant at all.

TK circled Carlos' waist and laughed, although the policeman didn't understand why. He just stared at him, not knowing if he was offended because he was somehow laughing at him or if he had missed something he didn't understand.

"Sorry, I was just remembering the first time I got on a fire truck." Carlos rested his head on TK's shoulder and let the story sink in, better that than concentrating on the stomach that rose and fell with every movement of the boat. "I was four, maybe five, while he hadn't wanted me to get on before in case I fell off or if my father wasn't attentive.

The thing is that I arrived at the barracks hand in hand with my father, I had barely slept the night before with the idea of going to work with him, getting to know the quartet inside as one more... well you can get the idea.

My father had prepared me a real uniform but in my size, with the case, gloves, boots, everything. I remember I spent ten minutes jumping up and down and laughing.

He had to sit me on his bed and tell me to sit down or else we couldn't go anywhere.

The truck was imposing but I was so eager to get in that I didn't realize how much juice, water and milkshake I had had since I had gotten up. Plus, since everyone knew me from the barracks, I had bought more juice, which I drank.

I was the barracks mascot, because my mother didn't usually take me, between her work and the idea that she didn't want me to become a fireman like my father."

"Oops well that didn't work out well for her."

"No and that and she thought that after that day, I would be left with some kind of trauma or something and I would never want to know anything about being a firefighter again.

My dad was thrilled at the thought of seeing little TK firefighter, I remember him making me laugh all day, even when I turned into the little girl from the exorcist.

"You threw up on your dad's fire truck?" "I wish it had only been in the truck."

This time it was Carlos who burst out laughing as he imagined the scene before TK continued telling the story.

"Everything went well at the beginning, I remember being excited, happy and looking forward to seeing what a day at my dad's job was like. But just twenty minutes after leaving with the truck, I started to feel sick.

I assure you, I don't remember ever throwing up like that in my entire life. I threw up in the truck, all over my father and two of his coworkers. Since there was no emergency, we went back to the barracks and things went from bad to worse.

My father told me sometime later that the smell of vomit stayed in the barracks for weeks."

"Oh, my boy, I'm so sorry." "Don't worry, by the time I was fifteen, I was over the trauma and you know how my story ended. Apparently I finally stopped getting dizzy getting on a fire truck, or maybe it wasn't such a great idea to mix milk and juice that day. Bottom line, it's okay to throw up and I assure you my dad and I have treated a lot of people on this ship." "And the other conclusion is that you've distracted me, concentrating on your story and we've already arrived at our destination without throwing up." "Nah, I didn't do it on purpose, babe." TK said with a chuckle and got up to head for the gangplank outside the boat, but Carlos pulled him back. "I was going to kiss you but I wasn't sure if you wanted me to with all the puking I've been doing. It must not be the best taste in the..."

Before he finished, TK pressed his lips together and kissed him hard, probably the most romantic gesture that ship had seen in a long time.

"I'm going to kiss you whenever I can, babe." "Thank you, baby, for telling me about a very ridiculous moment in your life for the sake of making me feel better." "I really don't know what you're saying." TK stood up again and this time he was the one pulling Carlos up. "Come on, the Statue of Liberty is waiting for us.

#Sicktember #seasickness #motion sickness #Sick Carlos #Tarlos #memory

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 10

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Nothing really, some angst, hints of a panic attack possibly. That’s about everything, this chapter is pretty light.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jared x Reader

Word Count: 1509

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. This is something I actually did and witness, and I realize this one might be hard to read because it is a little heavy.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

You should have been glad, you should have been relieved… But you weren’t.

They were finally releasing him from the hospital.

Paperwork was signed, medications to help with pain had been called into the local Walgreens that Jared would have to pick up once Jensen was home and settled in.

Jensen was going home… To his home… Not yours.

Which shouldn’t have been as big of a letdown as it was, but here it is. There’s no way to change it.

He wants to go home…

Jared had tried to talk him into staying at your apartment in downtown Austin, but he refused. Said he wanted his life to be back to normal, and that he wanted to go home.

You didn't blame him. After everything he'd been through if the roles were reversed, you'd be the same way. You would be lying though if you said you weren't just disappointed.

"Y/N, if you can help him get into some fresh clothes? I'll go pull the car around so he doesn't have to walk all the way through the parking garage," Jared said, grabbing his keys.

Everything seemed to be moving in so fast yet in slow motion. Jared hurrying around to get everything ready to take him home, nurses coming in and out, signing paperwork, unhooking IV’s, giving instructions.

This would be where you left Jensen today.

It honestly made you a little sick.

You didn't like the thought of him in that big house all by himself, trying to take care of himself. He could barely move around this morning he was so sore. He overdid it yesterday, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

What if he had another nightmare, and there was no one to be there with him?

Turning, you grabbed the black pair of boxer briefs and slipped them over his feet pulling them up to his knees. Along with a black pair of jogging pants. He watched you quietly while you worked.

When you were done he stood in front of you pulling his boxers and pants up before changing his shirt.

The two of you just stood there and stared at each other for a moment. There was so much you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t make yourself do it.

He licked his lips and looked down at the floor.

"You're not mad that I'm not going with you are you?" he asked, sounding more than a little like a scolded child.

"No, I'm not mad, I don't like the idea that you're gonna be by yourself when you still can't even bend down to dress yourself, but I’m not mad at you for wanting to put your life back together, Jensen," you told him, and he nodded his head. Looking up at you he took a long deep breath.

"I know you're right, but If I don't get some sort of normalcy, if I don't do this I'm never gonna get past what they did to me. I can't let fear rule me,” he said, closing the small distance between the two of you. With some effort making himself put his arm around you, even though you know his ribs must have been screaming in protest.

That’s what he seemed to be complaining most about his morning was the soreness in his ribs.

Slowly and carefully as you could, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Helping to steady him a little on his feet.

"Just promise you'll call Jared if you need something," you tell him, looking deep into his forest green eyes.

There was an emotion there, the first you had really seen out of him since coming to the hospital when you found out what happened to him, but you couldn't pinpoint what that emotion was. It was too masked. The light that was once in his eyes was still gone, and that bothered you.

"I'll be fine."

His eyes travel to your lips then back up to your eyes.

Slowly, so slowly at first, you didn't know what he was doing he leaned in toward you, brushing his lips so softly against yours that you almost didn't even feel him. Then taking a deep breath he closes his lips around yours in a hard kiss.

It was hard and quick, full of different emotions that you couldn’t even name. It was intense, but it was short. He pulled away and it seemed almost as quick as he’d started.

Your lips tingle where he had touched you. Even in that very short time his lips were on yours it was like something had ignited deep down in your gut, burning deep down into your soul.

Grabbing his phone from the table next to the bed you put your number into his contacts. He watched you closely but didn’t stop you, still standing with his arm around your waist breathing heavily. It must have taken some mental effort to actually do what he just did. Still, hopefully, it was a sign that this wasn't completely goodbye, and you had to hold onto that, or you weren’t going to survive the ride home.

It was going to kill you.

At least it felt like it was.

You slipped his phone into his pocket before looking up at him.

"If it gets bad call me... Please don't stay there alone," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought against the tears that threatened to fall past your defenses.

For just a moment you thought you saw his resolve waver. The walls that he'd built up around himself about to give you a slight crack to peek in when Jared came back to the door.

"Ready Jay...."

He froze in place, seeing the position that the two of you were standing in.

"Hell yeah. let's get out of here," Jensen said, still looking at you.

Letting go of you he turned and walked away, holding himself up straighter so that if there was anyone watching they wouldn't be able to even see that he was injured.

Jared looked at you giving you an apologetic smile, then turned and followed his friend.

You felt like your world was falling apart around you. You didn't understand why, but you did.. Taking a deep breath you fight back tears as you grab your purse, and head toward the parking garage.

“You let your heart get involved, idiot,” you think to yourself. “Now he's gone, and any chance you had of being with him is gone with him.”

Getting into the car you make the short drive back to your apartment.

When you finally stumbled through the front door you poured yourself a glass of the strongest whiskey you can find in your house, and sit down at your kitchen table, kicking yourself for letting yourself get attached to him.

You knew better than that, but you let it happen, and now you had to deal with the heartbreak.

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

That night, about five glasses of scotch, and a shower later you were sitting in your dark living room, only the light above the stove shining through the open floor plan of your apartment, strumming ideally at the guitar sitting across your lap. You were just about to try and go to bed when your phone started ringing. You didn't recognize the number, but it had an Austin area code so you answered it.

"Hello."

At first, there was just silence.

"Hello?" you say again a little louder, listening closely you could hear what sounded like someone crying on the other end.

"Y/N? Can you come to get me?"

You would have recognized the deep, rough voice on the other end of the phone if you were clinically dead. You were on your feet in a moment. The light buzz you had drank yourself into long gone.

"Where are you? What's your address?" you grab your purse and fly toward the door.

An hour later you were both back at your apartment.

"Sorry, it's so small," you tell him as you take his bag, and place it on the foot of your king-sized bed, helping him sit down on the edge of the bed.

"It's fine," he says. reaching around and grabbing your waist. Pulling you to him so he could rest his head on your stomach, letting a huff air out. His shoulders were still tense as he sat there holding onto you.

"This is so embarrassing. A grown ass man, in my damn 40's, and I'm too chicken shit to stay by myself," he said as you run your fingers through his hair, laughing a little at his smart ass tone.

"You're not a chicken. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

You were so relieved that he was there that you really didn't care what had brought him there. Selfishly you never wanted to be apart from him again. Inwardly you curse yourself for being so attached to him. It was something you couldn't control any more though. If you were really honest with yourself you didn't want to try to control it. It just was. That was how it would always be.

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

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen x you #jensen x reader #hurt!jensen #dark fick #dark jensne fick #spn #spn fanficition #spn fanfic #spn series #jawritter #dean winchester #you and me #fanficition

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benaffleckofcrowdsurfing · 4 years

Text

Lazerquest - part 5

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 5/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: a bit of sexual harassment, nothing intense but it could definitely be uncomfortable

Tag list (msg me if you would like to be added):

@lolurnotmileskane @imagine-that-100 @babyhoneystvles

Updates whenever the heck I please (at least once a week)

Author’s note: I’m sorry it’s been like a week I’ve been so uninspired but I feel a bit better now so woooooo hopefully I’ll be updating more.

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

“Just go commando, Turner. It’s not my fault you don’t keep extra undergarments in your car.”

“Fuckin’ hell, and my trousers are sandy.”

“You’re being a massive pussy.”

“Well I’m sorry Ms. Spontaneous, I had no idea we would be swimming in our knickers and then going out to get pissed tonight. I would’ve brought a change of clothes.”

“Oh, shut up Alex. You know you enjoyed seeing me practically naked.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

You gave Alex a warning glare before turning into the bathroom of the seedy motel room the two of you had decided to rent for the night. After your little ocean underwear rendezvous, you both sat your soggy asses in the Porsche and drove back into a little village Alex knew about. On the way back you told him about the scheme you had been conjuring up for the rest of your night, and after you said the words “absolutely shitfaced”, he told you that he would find a hotel.

Alex was thrilled to go to a bar and drink with you at first, but when he came to the realization that he would have to go in his street clothes, he became a bit more apprehensive. You, on the other hand, were thrilled that you had an excuse to wear your new dress.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled. As fit as you looked in the dress, the lack of bra underneath made it look a tad bit slutty and you were getting nervous about not having anything to wear underneath. Before returning from the small bathroom, you did your best to fix your makeup and then dried your hair with the basically ancient blow dryer that resided next to the faded vanity mirror above the sink.

“Alright, Al. I’ve got a job for you,” you announced after exiting the bathroom and going to sit next to Alex on the old queen bed that inhabited the hotel room.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Make sure I don’t flash the entire pub tonight.”

Alex shook his head in disappointment and chuckled. He was stood by the door in the same thing he had been wearing previously, putting on his shoes. “You know, you could just wear the clothes you had on this morning.”

“What’s the fun in that?” you frowned. He was right, shorts would be a much safer choice, especially considering the fact that your only objective tonight was to get faded. You just thought your new dress looked really good on you, and you’d have been lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want a little male attention. Not from Alex, of course, you had plans to get him a bit of a one night stand tonight. (it would be good for him, you thought. Help him take his mind off of Alexa some more.)

Alex rolled his eyes at you. “Are you ready? I want to get this show on the road.”

You stood up cheerfully and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go get you fucked up.”

Alex looked you up and down as he opened the door of the room and put the key back in his pocket. “I have a feeling I won’t be the only one getting ‘fucked up’ tonight, Y/N.”

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

“Alright, Y/N. What kind of twisted drinking game have you got planned for us tonight.”

You and Alex were sat at the bar of a rather small but busy pub. The music was loud, the people were rowdy, and the drinks were shit. It was perfect.

You gasped dramatically. “Wow, Alex. You really thought I had some premeditated plan to get you absolutely trashed? I’m hurt.”

Alex narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows. “I may have only met you twenty-four hours ago, but I know you well enough to know that you aren’t just gonna let me off with a few margaritas.”

You smiled at him slyly. “Touché. I do have one or two things up my sleeve.”

“Evil genius, you are.”

You winked at him before ushering the bartender over. She was an attractive woman, and you had noticed her checking out Alex when the two of you had walked into the pub.

“What can I get for you, Loves?” The woman asked. She had a thick Scottish accent and was making direct eye contact with Alex.

“I see you’re checking out my friend here,” you giggled. The bartender, who’s name tag read Helen, gave you a glare. “Listen, Helen. It’s not a bad thing, he’s quite the catch. You can have your shot with him all you want, I just have a few questions first.”

Helen furrowed her brows in confusion. Alex gave you a wild look, one that said what the hell are you up to?

“So what do you say, Helen? You up for it or are you just gonna stand there looking at me like I'm crazy?”

Helen shook her head a bit and cleared her throat. “Sure, Lady. But if they’re personal or weird I’m throwing you out.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Not to worry, it’s nothing too weird. I was just going to ask you to rate my friend out of 10.”

Alex nearly choked on his spit. “What?”

Helen laughed. “Well I’m not sure why it’s important, but he’s definitely a 9.”

You smiled smugly. Perfect. Fantastic choice, Helen. “Alright, now what would you rate me? Objectively of course, it doesn’t matter if I’m ‘your type’ if you know what I mean.”

Helen looked at you with narrow eyes for a long time, as if she was deep in thought. “You’re a fit young lass, but you’ve got small tits and that dress is about 2 inches too short. You look like an Austin Powers themed hooker.” Alex erupted into laughter and you punched him in the shoulder. Helen let out a long sigh before tapping on the bar. “I’d say you’re a 7.”

As offended as you were that the busty bitch only thought you were a 7, her answer worked completely in favor of your plan. “Alright. I’ve got one more question for you, then we’ll let you get back to work.”

Helen nodded. “Go on, then.”

You gave her a toothy grin. “What’s your favorite drink?”

You could hear Alex scoff from next to you. He knew exactly where this was going.

“I love a good rum swizzle, but my favorite to make here are brambles.”

You chuckled and turned to Alex, who had his face in his palms and was swearing under his breath. “Alex, pick your poison.”

Alex gave you a death glare and reluctantly looked at Helen. “I guess I’ll have…. nine brambles.”

You giggled and clapped your hands victoriously. “And I’ll take seven rum swizzles, Helen. Thank you so much for your help.”

The poor bartender gave you both confused looks before turning around to make your drinks. Alex looked like he wanted to slap you. “You’re absolutely mad. We’ll both be blacked out in like, half an hour. Are you trying to kill us?”

You just winked at Alex and smiled at Helen when she gave the two of you your first drinks. “Keep ‘em coming, ma’am. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

Alex sighed and raised his glass to yours. “Cheers, psycho. If I die tonight it’s on your conscience.”

As the two of you took the first well….gulps...of your drinks, a familiar song began sounding through the club. Alex’s face immediately dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You gasped. You knew exactly what song was playing. “Isn’t this-?”

Alex cut you off. “It’s me. Yeah.”

You squealed in excitement and finished the rest of your first drink and gulped down your second before narrowing your eyes at the grumpy boy sat next to you. “You better finish your drink, Al. We’ve got some dancing to do.”

“Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m dancing to my own bloody song.”

“Well then I’m going alone.”

You blew a raspberry at Alex before skipping onto the dance floor. Alex shook his head at you and crossed his arms. Once near the center of the dance floor but still close enough that you could see Alex, you began to move your hips to the beat of the song. As it picked up, you threw your head back and your arms in the air. In just moments you were dancing and singing your heart out, the few drinks you had previously consumed definitely contributing to your looseness. You stared directly at Alex when the chorus came around.

Oh the boy’s a slag,

the best you’ve ever had,

the best you ever had is just a memory

you pointed to Alex and waved him to join you. He reluctantly finished the rest of his drink, and before he could even stand up you had ran back to him and grabbed his hand to drag him back with you. Alex looked mortified, he absolutely could not believe he was in the middle of the dance floor with you, drunkenly dancing to his own music. You found it extremely fun, though, and just kept on spinning yourself with him and doing your best to make him dance.

flicking through a little book of sex tips

You flipped your hair and dropped to the floor seductively.

remember when the boys were all electric

you raised yourself back up and winked at Alex.

now when she’s told she’s gonna get it

I’m guessing she’d rather just forget it

You rolled your hips to the beat and swayed your head from side to side.

As annoyed Alex was that you had dragged him into the crowd, he seemed thoroughly entertained by your dancing. A small part of you thought he might have been even more entertained knowing that you were enjoying yourself this much to his song.

You continued to dance around Alex, the alcohol in your system making you a bit flirty. By the end of the song, Alex had actually began dancing and the two of you had quite a bit of fun.

“That was fantastic, Alex, but you’ve got 8 more drinks to go, and I’ve got 6 and a half. So we best get back to the bar.” You tisked.

“Damn. I thought you might have forgotten about that.” Alex muttered as you both sat back in your seats. Helen immediately chuckled and placed your next drinks in front of you.

After three more drinks were in the both of you, you decided to start your next little game.

“Hey, Alex,” you murmured.

Alex gave you a goofy smile. He was definitely already drunk. “hmm?”

“There’s a girl behind you checking you out.”

“Which one?”

“The blonde with the tits.”

“She’s pretty fit, right?”

“You should go talk to her.”

“I don’t want to leave you here all alone, Y/N.”

“I was gonna go talk to the tall one over there.”

“He’s been looking at you all night.”

“I’m aware. He’s not being very sly.”

“It’s a bit creepy.”

“I don’t mind. So you’re gonna go talk to the girl or what?”

“Should I?”

You gave Alex an evil little smirk and his eyes widened. “I know how to make it more interesting.”

“Oh boy. Let me finish another drink now to prepare myself.” Alex poured the rest of his drink down his throat and cracked his neck as if to say game on. “What have you got for me, Y/L/N?”

“Alright. I go talk to skyscraper over there, you go talk to sugar tits. If one of us can get a hook up, the other has to buy them breakfast tomorrow morning.”

Alex chuckled. “May the sluttiest one win.”

You finished your drink and asked Helen for another (you were now on your sixth of the night and were quite drunk), before strutting over to your tall mystery admirer.

“I was hoping you’d come talk to me,” the man said as you approached him.

“I thought you might, I've been watching you watch me for quite a bit,” You took a sip of your drink and winked at him.

“What can I say, I like what I see. I’m Alex.”

You choked on your drink. “I’m sorry, your name is what?”

“Alex. And you are?”

You bit your lip to keep from bursting out in laughter. Of course his name is Alex. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you spoke up. “Y/N.”

“Y/N, that’s a pretty name. You’re American, aren’t you?” New Alex slurred. At least he’s as drunk as I am, you thought.

“Born and raised in the states.”

“You know I’ve never shagged an American girl before,” New Alex purred. He took a step closer to you, and you looked up at him innocently.

“Oh, really?” Your voice was quiet now, he was very close to you and his presence was a bit overwhelming. You could smell his cologne, his whiskey, and his cigarette smoke.

When you glanced back at Your Alex, he was staring past the blonde and right at you.

“Willing to help me change that?” The man in front of you bent down to whisper in your ear. It gave you goosebumps, but not a good kind. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something wasn’t quite right.

“Feeling bold, are we?” you stuttered, now feeling a little more uncomfortable as he continued to get closer to you.

“Is that a problem?” You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I’m not sure.”

“Should I make you sure?” Alex now had his body pressed against yours and your back pressed against the table behind you, there was no chance at escape. You looked over at Alex, who was still watching you, and gave him a look of distress. He quickly dismissed the blonde, handed dear old Helen some cash, and rushed over to you.

“Y/N, we gotta go. The taxi’s here.” He announced.

New Alex grunted. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Alex, this is Alex. Alex, Alex.” You muttered quickly, and squeezed out from between the table and the large man. “I’m sorry to cut our conversation so short, but we really have to get going. Hope you find another American girl to have sex with soon!”

Alex dragged you away from New Alex and the two of you practically ran out of the pub.

“Are you alright? Did he touch you? Did he say something? Do I need to go back in there and kick his arse? Please tell me you’re okay. I told you he was creepy, Y/N.” Alex rambled, and put both of his hands on your shoulders.

You brushed him off and put your hand on his cheek in reassurance. “I’m alright, Alex. He was just being a bit pushy and I was uncomfortable. Thank you so much for helping me out of that situation.”

“Of course, Y/N. You’re far more important to me than a shag. That girl was uninteresting anyway. I’d much rather be with you.”

You smiled at Alex and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a sweet boy. Come on, let’s go back to the room. That shitty mattress is calling my name.”

**********

Back at the hotel, both you and Alex decided that it was time to sleep. Your undergarments had all dried, so the two of you had something semi-normal to sleep in, and after getting ready for bed you turned to face Alex. He was already curled up on the left side of the bed.

“I had fun tonight, Al.”

“I did too, Y/N/N.”

You placed a platonic kiss on his forehead before slipping into the bed next to him and turning out the lights. You did your best to warm yourself up under the covers, but you were still freezing.

“Y/N, you’re shivering,” Alex yawned.

“I’ll be okay, just go to sleep,” you cooed and rubbed his bare back. He let out a long exhale at the gesture, which made you blush.

“Do you want my tee shirt? It won’t help much but it’s better than just that lacy number you have on.”

Alex’s words send shivers down your spine. The thought of being in a hotel room with Alex Turner, in the same bed as him, in his shirt, made you hot to the touch.

“Sure, Alex. Thank you.” You whispered. He sat up, reached over onto the floor to pick the shirt up, and smiled weakly when he handed it to you. You slipped it on over your head and giggled. Its smell was intoxicating, it’s as if you were wearing Alex Turner. “I feel much better.”

When you looked up at Alex, he had a stupid smirk on his face. His eyes were different than usual, more dark and intense. He was staring you up and down, but diverted his eyes when he caught you looking. “Oh- It’s no problem, I wasn’t going to wear it and I don’t want you shivering and keeping me up all night.”

“Right. Good night, Alex.” You yawned, and snuggled back into the bed.

“Good night, Y/N.”

67 notes · View notes

rawiswhore · 3 years

Text

Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Suckin’ in the Boys Room”

Male bathrooms usually have urinals for men and boys to pee in, though sometimes they don't always pee in a urinal.

Working with the World Wrestling Federation, when they travel to any arena, of course there's going to be separate bathrooms for men and women, some of them are even gender neutral.

Urinals actually popped an idea to your head, a pretty clever idea at that.

Once, a few months after you had joined the WWF in 1996, after you had that urinal based idea, you tried finding the men's bathroom, checking to see if there's any urinals there.

Yep, there were, and you grinned from ear to ear excitedly, thinking yes! inside and nearly balling your fists up in excitement.

You ran all over the arena trying to look for Shawn Michaels, perhaps the hottest, sexiest man in the WWF at that point, and hoped he had some free time.

Shawn was getting hotter and sexier as the days went on, finally ditching that tacky mullet he had from 1992 to 1995, and this time, Shawn had his long hair hanging down and he didn't have any facial hair.

This is just the way you like him.

When you found Shawn, your eyes lit up seeing him and your lips smiled from ear to ear, feeling the same way on the inside you felt when you found out the men's room had urinals.

His facial hair was shaved and his hair wasn't tied back in a ponytail or braids.

You scurried up to him, and he was happy to see you, his pearly white teeth smiling at you.

You leaned into his face and whispered something to him in his ear, sharing an idea you had planned with him and asking him if he has any free time.

When you whispered your plan, your fingers laced in between the spaces of his fingers, the tips of your fingers bunching up in the palm of his hand.

Shawn was arguably the hottest man in the WWF in 1996/1997,and he's probably the man who would most likely do something like this with you.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley is really handsome, Billy Gunn's getting cuter when his hair is growing long, Jeff Hardy is 2nd to Shawn as the hottest man in the WWF, Bret Hart is sexy but he's too wholesome, Davey Boy Smith is pretty hot but not enough, Brian Pillman's cute but that facial hair is kinda unsexy, and while Scott Taylor, Brian Christopher and even Bob Holly/Sparky Plugg are pretty cute, Sparky Plugg has that tacky mullet and an overbite, and Scott is more cute than hot.

Besides, you guys would rather read about Shawn than the rest (besides Jeff Hardy).

His eyes grew wide hearing your idea in a bit of shock and surprise, but he doesn't mind your idea at all.

In fact, he likes it.

He agreed to your idea, and you smiled from ear to ear, you could nearly jump up and down in happiness.

Holding his hand, you ushered him towards the men's room, pulling him towards you when you walked in front of him.

When you and Shawn entered the men's room, there wasn't anyone in the room, seemingly, and that's a good thing.

Although, you don't mind if men piss in the bathroom if you're in there, as long as they don't do something else people do in the bathroom.

The room luckily didn't smell that bad, for now, anyway.

Before you and Shawn could get to doing your agenda, you had to look inside the urinals, just to check and see if there wasn't anything nasty or disgusting in there.

You dashed over to the urinals horizontally lined up, and your eyes looked inside those urinals, looking to see if there's something else people do in the bathroom that some males out there do inside urinals.

Something that Mr. Mackey once fussed at the kids at in a "South Park" episode.

Luckily, there wasn't something even more disgusting than urine in the urinals.

Your nose also didn't inhale or smell anything that smelled too awful there, so that's a bonus.

You then sunk yourself down to the floor and squatted on the tiled floor, your head looking under the men's bathroom stalls to see if there's anyone in the stalls.

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked.

"Looking if anyone's in the bathroom stalls" you confessed. "I'm actually okay if men pee in the bathroom while I'm in there, but if they do something else people do in the toilet while I'm in the bathroom, I'm not fine with that"

Shawn nodded his head, chuckling and knowing what other thing is.

That other thing is what was inside a sandwich eaten by Mark Henry, Sunny's Chinese food, Jerry Lawler's crown, the Rock's lunchbox and Sable's bag.

Thankfully, there wasn't anyone in the bathroom stalls, for now, anyway.

And again, before you could do anything with Shawn, you then straightened yourself up and stood up, walking around the bathroom to see if there's anything disgusting in there.

Your eyes looked at the tiled floor, which luckily wasn't that filthy, and your eyes looked at the corners, checking if there's any vomit or feces there.

Luckily, there wasn't any.

Your nose inhaled and sniffed to smell anything gross, you didn't sniff as in get on the ground and press your nose on the floor like you were a dog sniffing, but you took a deep inhale to smell if there was anything gross.

Nothing so far.

Your eyes also checked if there's any urine puddles on the floor, but there really weren't anyway.

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked.

"I'm looking if there's anything gross in the room" you admitted. "Like shit or puke, y'wanna help look around the room?"

"Why do you care so much about what's in the bathroom?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to do something awesome if there's gross things in the room" you confessed, your fingers wrapping on the edge of one of the stall doors and opening the door, stepping inside to look inside the toilet.

Your eyes looked down in the toilet bowl to see if anyone didn't flush, thankfully, there wasn't anything gross inside.

Your eyes looked down at the floor in this bathroom stall, your eyes inspected carefully if there was any vomit, shit, urine or all of the above.

Thankfully, there wasn't any of that in the corner of the stall or on the floor, though there was a bit of mold in the corner of the walls.

Your eyes looked on the stall's walls for anything gross that comes out of someone's body, but all you could see was some graffiti.

Someone wrote "Austin 3:16" on a stall in a black Sharpie marker, another person wrote "NWO 4 Life", whereas some people wrote "*insert name* was here", another person drew Wu Tang Clan's logo on the stall in a black Sharpie.

Your nostrils took an inhale to smell anything nasty in the stalls, though you aren't gonna do it in the bathroom stalls.

You haven't smelled anything gross so far.

"Well, why do you want to do this in a bathroom?" Shawn asked "Considering this is where people shit?"

"Good point" you mentioned, "But...I have reasons why I want to do this in a bathroom".

You then left the stall and entered the next stall, your eyes looking in the toilet.

Luckily, there wasn't anything inside the toilet bowl.

Your eyes looked in the corners of the stall and scrolled across the floor, looking for any bodily functions, especially the really gross ones.

Nothing was there, thank God.

Your eyes then looked at the bathroom stall's for anything gross smeared on there, but all you could really find was just some graffiti written in Sharpie marker.

As your eyes looked around for anything gross, your nostrils inhaled the scent of this bathroom stall, but it didn't really smell that disgusting.

There needs to be some air freshener spray in every bathroom.

Why exactly do some people not flush the toilet, unless the handle doesn't work?

And why do some people piss and shit in urinals or on the floor, or smear their fecal matter on walls?

Besides, shouldn't it be janitor's job to clean up the bathrooms?

You walked out of the stall, only to find Shawn standing in the middle of the bathroom, waiting for you.

"Are you going to help look around the bathroom for any shit or puke?" you asked him.

Shawn shrugged his shoulders.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" you asked him.

"Fine, I'll do it" he decided, and he started walking all around the room, looking for any feces or vomit in the room.

You walked around the bathroom, your eyes glued to the tiled floor to check to see if there's any excrement or vomit on the floor.

So far, there isn't any.

Shawn's eyes are looking down at the floor as he walks, he can't seem to find anything that comes out of your ass or out of your mouth, and that's a good thing.

You walked over to the corner of the bathroom, where the urinals are lined up in a horizontal line, observing if there's anything in the corner or on the walls.

There really isn't anything gross besides a little bit of mold.

You're really overthinking and obsessing over how disgusting a bathroom is, and yeah, public bathrooms can be gross.

Is it necessary to walk all around the room to find any crap or vomit on the walls or in the corner?

Your eyes haven't found any of that stuff, neither has Shawn.

"Hey Shawn" you said, raising your voice.

He turned his head and looked at you.

"It's not necessary for us to walk around the room looking for shit and puke" you confessed. "Except if it's in the toilet bowls or in the bathroom stalls, we can just stand in the room and our eyes can look around the room to see if there's any of that"

Shawn agreed with you, nodding his head.

"Have you found any crap or puke?" you asked him. "Any pee puddles?"

"Nope" he admitted.

Thank God, you thought, your eyes rolling in the back of your head in satisfaction.

"Neither have I" you admitted.

You and Shawn are wasting time looking around the room for feces and vomit, so you should get to what you really want him to do to you.

"Hey Shawn, I'm ready!" you announced, scurrying over towards next to the urinals lined up.

You squatted down on the floor and opened your mouth wide, wide enough for something to enter you.

Shawn walked over to where you are, seeing you squatting down next to the urinals with your mouth open, like you're pretending to be a urinal.

You took your shirt off and had no bra underneath, you dressed like this to prepare for what you want to do with him.

Shawn walked up to you smiling and grinning, pulling the zipper of his jeans down and unbuttoning his jeans when he walked up to you.

When he stood right in front of you, standing close enough for his cock to touch you, he grabbed onto the sides of his jeans and slid his jeans and underwear down, until his genitals were exposed right in front of you.

"Hey Shawn" you said "Remember, don't fart when you do what I want you to do"

You want this moment to be nearly perfect.

He chuckled and promised not to do that, hopefully he does keep his promise.

You feel even bad for saying a popular word for passing gas.

(I can't believe I'm typing a word about flatulence in this fanfic that's supposed to be sexy, as well as typing things about what else you do in the bathroom in a sexual, erotic fanfic).

He then wrapped his fingers around his shaft and aimed the tip of his penis at your mouth, his hand began pumping and stroking his cock, masturbating his dick.

He isn't gonna pee in your mouth or do something else people do inside the bathroom which is even more disgusting, he's gonna do something to you he's done to you many times.

Yep, you're acting and pretending to be a urinal.

Though, you have thought of letting Shawn and other male pro wrestlers pee on you, and while pee isn't as gross as something else people do in the toilet, but...

(Apparently, there's an urban legend Shawn Michaels invited 3 ringrats to a hotel room and peed on them).

You're surprised no one is entering the bathroom, for now, anyway.

In fact, you regret not letting some other hot, sexy male wrestlers in the WWF jerk off on you and in your mouth like you're a urinal, but maybe some will go to the bathroom and you can let them do that to you.

As Shawn is masturbating himself, precum is leaking out of his slit and down his shaft, making his cock slipperier.

You want his precum to enter your mouth, that's why your mouth is wide open, though you don't mind if he gets it in your face and chest.

You look silly squatting on the ground with your mouth wide open, but you're pretending to be a urinal.

You shut your eyes tight just in case you get any precum in your eyes, that hurts.

Shawn remembered why you're closing your eyes, he's jizzed in ringrat's and women's faces before and they've said it hurts when they get cum in their eyes.

Shawn, meanwhile, is looking at your face with your eyes closed, grinning at you while he masturbates.

Some of his precum actually is landing in your mouth, a little droplet of his precum landed on your bottom lip and trickled down your chin.

The tip of your tongue licked where a little blob had entered your mouth, you recognized that taste, it's obviously precum.

If any precum gets inside your mouth, you're going to obviously swallow it.

Shawn's shaft feels slipperier and slicker thanks to masturbating it while precum is oozing out of his slit and trickling down his shaft, but it makes it easier for Shawn to pump his cock.

You really hope that you and Shawn won't get arrested for having sex in a public bathroom.

Even though you're acting like a urinal and the intention is to get cum in your mouth, you don't mind it if he gets cum on your face, your chest or both, that's why you took your top off and didn't wear a bra underneath as well as shut your eyes.

Though, should you get cum on your face and on your tits too?

Shawn's precum just keeps on dripping out of his slit and in your mouth, and the tip of your tongue is licking any precum that's inside your mouth.

Some of his precum is landing on your tongue, and you just can't help but swallow that precum.

Since he isn't getting any precum on your face so far, you opened your eyes, only to see Shawn's denim clad legs in front of you.

Your eyes scrolled towards the left side, looking at the wall behind you and looking to see if there's any shit or puke on the floor.

Shawn noticed your eyes scrolling towards the left.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Looking for poo and puke?"

You nodded your head.

"There is none" Shawn said.

Indeed, there isn't any.

People, especially grown adults, need to have better manners.

Your pupils scrolled back to the middle of your irises and your eyelids shut your eyes.

So far, Shawn hasn't farted at all, and that's a good thing.

Your nose inhaled again, just in case the room smells disgusting.

Nope, nothing so far!

Good for him!

While he's jerked off in your mouth, you haven't smelled anything too foul.

Shockingly, no one has entered the bathroom so far.

This is all too perfect.

You pretending to be a urinal with Shawn Michaels in a clean bathroom, and no one's taking a dump in one of the stalls or in the urinals?

Even the room doesn't smell too bad.

There hasn't even been anyone else entering the bathroom yet, though you don't mind if someone else enters the bathroom, especially if it's another hot wrestler.

Shawn's leaning his head back as he jerks off, biting on his bottom lip and his eyes are slightly rolling in the back of his head over how good it feels to masturbate.

Sometimes, his fingers are rotating around his shaft while they're wrapped around it, helping him cum even more.

Precum just keeps dropping in your mouth, some of it's getting on your chin and your chest.

Your top is still gripped in the palm of your hand, holding onto it.

Hopefully your shirt won't get any mold on it.

You really should've invited more men to jack off in your mouth, that way you would get more cum inside your mouth.

But...how are they all gonna get their jizz in your mouth if they're standing on your sides?

Then, they'll get it on your face, tits and hair.

And some of these other men you want to invite are hot, but not hot enough.

It is pretty pointless for you to close your eyes since he isn't gonna cum on your face or tits, for now, anyway.

You opened your eyes, though he's been jacking off for quite a long time, so he might cum any minute now.

For now, his precum keeps dripping into your mouth and your mouth is there to swallow it.

You (and Shawn as well) wishes his cock could shoot cum out of his dick like it's urine, not shooting out in little squirts, just lengthy, long and thick precum gushing out of his slit like water out of a fire hydrant.

Eventually, pretty soon, he groaned out, and he finally jizzed inside your mouth, his precum now thick, white cum blowing into your mouth and getting on your tongue.

His slit keeps releasing his cum out more and more.

It isn't premature ejaculation, no, it's real cum shooting out of his dick.

Looks like you (and Shawn) got your wish, now his cock really is shooting his cum out like a machine gun.

And you're loving it.

You shut your eyes in case you get any jizz in your eyes, and you're getting every drop of his cum inside your mouth.

You then shut your mouth and swallowed his jizz, your tongue licked across your teeth to get any cum off of your teeth.

Your tongue traveled and moved around your mouth just in case you have any cum on your mouth.

Since Shawn's been a good boy and his dick is drenched in precum and official cum, he now gets a reward.

You opened your mouth and leaned your face into his cock, his penis entering your mouth more and more, and circulated your lips around his shaft.

When his entire penis was in your mouth, you began sucking his cock, your tongue also licked up and down his shaft, licking up any precum that trickled down it.

Shawn smiled and grinned, enjoying this reward.

Later on, you told him it was pointless for you to close your eyes since he wouldn't cum in your face and tits, but he can do that the next time.

Epilogue: you let many different wrestlers separately use you as a urinal, they didn't pee or poo on you, but they jizzed in your mouth and sometimes on your face.

Sometimes, you let one wrestler cum inside your wide open mouth while you squatted down in the bathroom, other times, you let many of them all cum in your mouth and on your face.

When the WWF during the Attitude era used to have those short little vignettes where the guitar riff to Slam Jam's "We're All Together Now" plays and shows some clip, there was one vignette where it showed the backsides of men peeing in urinals in a bathroom, and next to those urinals is you squatting down on the ground with your mouth wide open while Triple H is in front of you.

When Triple H leaves this vignette, it shows you with your mouth looking full.

Some people watching this vignette thought, "Did he pee in her mouth or something else?".

________________________________________________________________

I hope you reading this fanfic didn't find it too gross or even silly.

#shawn michaels #90s #1997 #wwf #fanfiction

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jenniferisacommonname · 3 years

Text

T-Minus

Is the hotel nice? Well… it’s enough, anyway. There’s no microwave in the room—a major oversight on my part—but there’s one in the lobby I can use, next to an array of snacks that are only moderately overpriced, considering. We’re less than half a mile from our daily destination, and even closer to a CVS that sells the medicine I forgot to pack. On the other hand, that CVS offers no bottled water to accompany the dose: instead, their nearly-barren drinks cooler sports a yellow sign reading, “NEEDS REPAIR DO NOT RESTOCK SELL THROUGH INVENTORY,” even though it’s apparent the task can never be accomplished because some of that inventory has been trapped inside a massive slag of ice flowing off the back wall. It’s clearly been a problem for a while.

But the middle-groundness of the hotel and its environs are actually a perfect fit for this little non-vacation I’m on. You see, my son is attending a three-day program for teens at NASA, and I am his chauffeur. The daddy-daughter bonding is in full swing back in Austin, and there are precisely zero responsibilities hanging over me between the hours of 7:30 am and 4:00 pm. It’s a freedom that, like the hotel, sounds mundane, but suits my current needs better than I could hope for. I haven’t been really alone since… well, it depends on how we’re measuring. In one sense, it’s been a little over a year, since the 2020 Spring Break that never ended. But in another, more philosophical sense, it’s been 15 years as of this morning, when my son’s birthday trip to NASA turns literal for a day.

The fact that we have just three years left with him is not especially disturbing; much moreso is the fact that his little sister has just turned 13, meaning we have only five years left with any children at all. And who, then, will I be? Because while it sucks to admit, I have in many ways forgotten. Faced with three days alone in a mediocre city, I wasn’t bereft of ideas on how to spend my time, but I did struggle to judge their relative value, as a person with long-dormant tastes and opinions. Did I want to go to a museum, or make a few dents in my decade-and-a-half nap deficit, or just stare at the wall and revel in the fucking silence? This past year has been tough, but the truth is that other years have been tougher, and absolutely none of them have been easy since I blindly started this project of creating humans.

To be clear, I don’t regret having kids—or perhaps I do, but I would also regret not having them? I’m generally a person who regrets missing out on any experience, good or bad. But recently, I’ve been replaying an old memory from my wedding day, some 18-ish years ago. In the midst of the festivities, I found myself seated between my new mother-in-law and the mother of the best man, who had known each other for exactly as long as my husband and his friend had. I mentioned my fondness for big families, and my desire to have four children.

“Oh, don’t do that,” my mother-in-law said.

“No, definitely don’t do that,” said the best man’s mother, at almost exactly the same time.

I laughed; they didn’t. “I’m sitting here between two women who both had four children themselves!” I pointed out, still thinking this was one of those Exasperated Chic, wine-o’-clock throw pillow kind of conversations.

“Yes,” they agreed. “That’s right.” Absolute deadpan.

And yet, because I’m me—or because I was who I was then, who may or may not be who I am now, because who even knows—I took it as a sort of challenge, as if they were implying that I wasn’t capable of pulling off the same feat they had. I really, truly, didn’t understand it for the clear warning it was until years later. And the Catch-22 is they couldn’t say it to either of their own daughters, just like my mother couldn’t say it to me, even though I’m confident she’d go back and live her life differently given half a chance. You can’t tell your own kids that having kids is a bad idea. You also can’t tell your nonexistent kids that not having kids is a bad idea. We’re all stuck advising strangers who aren’t inclined to take our word for it.

My gut feeling is that the “having kids” side of things still comes out ahead, because the bulk of the obligation does end eventually, and you get to go back to living only for yourself. Mark one down for having your cake and eating it, too. The question is, are you able to? Do you buy into society’s lie that everything good happens in your twenties and thirties, and spend the rest of your life wallowing in missed opportunities? Or do you perhaps see the myriad self-reinventions the world offers, only to discover that you no longer remember how to be someone at all?

Anyway, I decided not to make a plan, and just see where the three days took me. It’s not who I used to be—childless Jennifer was a planner, through and through—but I found, at least, that I could trust in being satisfied with what I chose, even if it was nothing. It turns out I do still have the ability to be myself, I just can’t predict in advance who that person is going to be. I was open to finding out.

So I went to Bed Bath & Beyond—because I’m a person who is picky about their pillows, but too embarrassed to travel with their own. I’m a person who goes out and solves a problem quickly and efficiently, and who is absolutely not too embarrassed to walk through a hotel lobby carrying what is obviously a just-purchased replacement for their shoddy offerings.

I washed my car at one of those fancy places with the vacuum tubes and interior wipes—because I’m a person who likes things to be clean, and who judges other people when their car floors are filthy even though mine have been for over a decade. I’m a person who prefers to keep things clean in the first place, and resents cleaning up after others so much that I usually just end up leaving it. But I’m also person who doesn’t mind getting down and scrubbing when I know that it will stay clean (for at least two more days, anyway.)

I had a big plate of Tex-Mex. That one wasn’t a revelation, to be honest—if there’s one facet of my personality that has survived parenthood, it’s a willingness to indulge in Tex-Mex at every opportunity. I also ate an entire box of Rice Krispie Treats over the course of the weekend.

I watched a bunch of TV shows and movies that my family would find uninteresting, and when my son got back in the evening, I watched one of them again—because I wanted to, and he didn’t know I’d already watched it just hours earlier.

And, I wrote this. Because thankfully, it turns out I’m still a person who writes for her own fulfillment, not just as a means of escape. And when the real escape comes in a few years, I now know at least a few of the things that will be waiting for me on the other side.

#parenthood #empty nest #teenagers #wine o'clock #live laugh love #gross #no thank you

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abcd-adventures · 4 years

Note

Would you rather travel to the past or travel to the future? Why? Who do you admire? Why? Who do you want to meet? What kind of student were you in the past? What are your favorite things to do while camping? Do you ever go camping with your family? Would you rather have a chance to travel everywhere you wanted in the United States or outside of the United States? Why? Where would you travel if money and time weren't factors? Do you like zoos, safari parks, or farms? Why or why not?

More awesome questions! I LOVE seeing these in my inbox--sorry that I’m slow to answer sometimes! Ahh, life with a toddler, but I promise I will get to all of them, and I’m so grateful for the thoughtful asks! <3

In theory, time travel is SO COOL. I think I mentioned that we’re currently watching DARK as a family--it’s intense, but it’s good. However, when I really put any thought into time travel (assuming it was definitely a thing and something I would ever have the chance to do), I wouldn’t want to do it. There were definitely times in my past that were difficult, but looking back I can clearly see how they shaped the person that I am and it was for the better, so I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that growth. I mean, I have my issues, but I genuinely like who I am. And, I wouldn’t want to go to the future because I’m ok not knowing what is to come. In fact, I prefer it. I put a decent amount of thought into my decisions in life, and I wouldn’t want to suddenly start second-guessing them or over-analyzing them a crazy amount either trying to ensure or change the future I saw. Now, if I could just travel back in a little bubble and witness certain major historical events to learn what they were really like but without actually seeing any of my own past or influencing anything--I would totally be down for that!

Hmmm, there are some people I interact with on this site that I would love to have the chance to actually meet in person! But, like famous people or historical figures or whatever. . .meh? Like, it would be cool, but I don’t have any kind of real interest in meeting them. *shrug* I guess because I always envision it in some kind of formal way, like, “OK, here’s your chance to meet this person--annnnd go interview them/have a photo op/etc.” If I met some awesome people in a totally organic, normal-person encounter and we were just two regular people talking, then I’m up for meeting lots of people. Does that make sense? I did meet Obama at a restaurant a few years ago; that was fun! But, sorry Obama, I would have been even MORE interested in meeting Michelle! Lol

In elementary, I was a super-involved student--curious, top of my class, friends with everyone. In middle school, because I lived in the country and the districting lines were weird for me, I went to a totally different middle school than everyone I knew and it was HARD. Puberty sucks anyway, but puberty when you went through as bad of an awkward stage as I did, with a bunch of strangers. . .it sucks even worse! My grades were not great; I ate my lunches alone in the bathroom, and I didn’t have any friends (except my best friends I’ve always had but they went to different schools, too). Before high school, I made some changes to my “look,” so all of a sudden people weren’t such dicks to me, so that aspect was easier. I loved certain classes and certain teachers, so I was an excellent student in some classes, but in others I just looked at the syllabus and did exactly as much as I had to in order to pass. I skipped a lot of school (often with my now husband). In college, I was in it for me. I wanted to be there; I loved what I was studying--ALL of it, even college algebra--and I maintained a 4.0 even while working and taking care of a toddler/preschooler. I imagine that grad school will be the same (minus the working part--until I get into my internship). I’m not obsessed with grades, but I am committed to working very hard on my assignments because I want to be the best social worker that I can be, and not to be a narcissist, but I’m not terrible at it (school or social work). ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My favorite things to do while camping are hiking, cooking over the campfire, reading under the stars with a little camping light, and just enjoying the feeling of life slowing down. With my family growing up, we did tent camping. My husband does not sleep great in the best of circumstances, so he is not down for sleeping in a tent. Lol So, the “camping” that we do these days is in a cabin!

Hmmmmm, that’s a tough one! There’s plenty of places I’d love to see within the US, but I’d rather have unlimited access to other countries because I LOVE learning about other cultures and the worldviews and daily lives of people in places so different from where I come from. Our top travel destinations on our family “bucket list” are Scotland, Northern Ireland, Iceland, New Zealand, and Thailand. But, that’s a VERY short list (and mostly determined by my husband and C because they know I’ll go anywhere and they’re more picky). I would honestly go anywhere if time, money, AND the awfulness of airports and the actual traveling part of the experience weren’t a factor.

Depending on the care given to the animals and their conditions, yes. Our Austin Zoo is a “rescue zoo,” so in theory that should be a great thing! But, then, I read an article recently about some of the zookeepers’ experiences there and some of the treatment of the animals, and I was really upset. I won’t go into all of my feelings about nature and how humans have treated our world, etc. I live in a house in a city. I drive a car. I mean, I try to do my part to compost and buy responsibly raised food, limit my use of plastics, etc., but I contribute to the damage to our world like ALL of us do to some degree. That’s a whole long conversation with not enough answers that isn’t even an answer to the question you asked, so. . .yeah!

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 46

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother

Everything hurts.

Back. Shoulder. Knee. Head. Especially the head. A ferocious, pounding that has settled above and behind his eyes and in his temples. Even the sliver of sunlight that manages its way past his heavy lids tortures him; an incessant burn that seems to travel right through every optic nerve and straight into his brain. And he winces and groans in agony and yanks the comforter up over his head, attempting to will away the throbbing and the slight nausea and lightheadedness.

He can’t remember the last time he had a hangover; body and mind so accustomed to a lifestyle of excessive drinking that they’d stopped being affected. The worst that would happen would be passing out and staying that way for ten to twelve hours. Sometimes even longer depending on many Oxy he’d taken. There were days -more often than not- where’d he wake up disappointed; upset that no matter how much he’d had to drink and how many pills he popped, he was still alive; stuck in a shitty, miserable existence filled with enormous guilt and regret and unlimited self loathing.

But this...this suffering takes him back to his high school days; drinking too much at house parties or at get togethers on the beach and then passing out whenever he was standing or sitting at the time. The mornings after were always brutal; the headaches and dizziness, the way you tongue felt thick and dry and it seemed as if your mouth was stuffed with cotton. And the nausea. That queasy, unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach and the burn of bile in your throat.

He regrets it. Every shot, every pitcher of beer he helped drain, every sip of scotch. And he wishes he’d never even agreed to ever go to that bar; option for a quiet night at home instead of all the noise and all those people. All that booze. It’s a blur; the crowd, too many conversations happening at once, the deafening music, the lights way too bright. And Millie’s teacher. Propositioning him at the bar. Making comments about his scars and asking about his job and assuming his marriage was in trouble and he was willing to ‘hook up’. THAT’S going to make trips to the school awkward. Parent/teacher interview night should be a lot more interesting and entertaining now, having to sit across from someone who is supposed to be educating your kid but weeks or months ago wanted your dick and you had to shoot them down.

It’s like a cocoon under the heavy, down filled blanket; a warm, confined, safe place. Quiet and relaxing. Secure. As if nothing exists outside of it. Just him and that soft body pressed tightly against his. The smell of her hair as he nestles his face against the back of her neck; the heat that radiates off her enough to soothe some of his aches and pains. He needs this time. The minutes. The hours. The moments were it’s just them. Where the world around them is silent and still and life seems as if it’s at a standstill. In less than two weeks, these moments will cease to exist. At least temporarily. He’ll be in Mumbai; in the stifling heat and the oppressive humidity, making his way through the list of names Anil had given him. Checking them off one by one if he has to. Leaving nothing but a trail of blood and broken bodies in his wake.

He pushes those thoughts away. It’s the last thing he wants to be thinking about. Mumbai. Mahajan and his people. How long he’ll actually be gone for. If he’ll even make it back. All he wants to do is concentrate on the next ten days. On their get away to The Kimberley; four days and three nights alone with his wife. No kids to worry about -although they will from afar- and no interruptions and time to actually talk and pay attention to what is being said. And Millie’s birthday party. Newly six with all her classmates and her new puppy; completely oblivious to the treats being made and the stress her parents are under. He’s no longer anxious about it; the nightmares of Austin taking her from them have stopped and the illogical fear of her waking up deathly ill is starting to subside. It’s still there; the inkling of worry that something could go wrong. But with each that passes where she’s healthy and happy and strong, that concern lessens.

Right now he focuses on what’s right in front of him. That soft, supple body pressed against him. Her back to his front and one of his legs draped over hers and the tip of his nose against the side of her neck. HE blindly searches for one of her hands; lacing his fingers with hers and then placing a series of feathery kisses along her jaw. And she stirs against him when he reaches the corner of her mouth; eyes never opening as she turns her face into his. The resulting kiss is long and slow. Lazy. Bare legs sliding against each other; her fingers tightening around his as she lays their joined hands against her stomach.

Esme pulls back to look at him; eyes half open, brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you smell so good all of a sudden? And why do I taste mint?”

“I got up in the middle of the night and took a shower. Brushed my teeth.”

“I told you that you smelled awful.You know it’s bad when you can’t stand your own stench.”

“I actually did it because I couldn’t sleep.”

“That drunk and you couldn’t sleep? That’s a first. It used to knock you out for at least eight hours.”

Tyler shrugs. “Slept for a couple hours, woke up, couldn’t go back.”

“Did the baby wake up?”

“She slept through.”

Frowning, she brings his hand up to check his watch. “It’s quarter after six. She’s been sleeping since eleven. That’s weird for her. Did you check on her?”

“Twice.”

She arches an eyebrow.

“Okay, it was three times. I can’t help it. I worry. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first or the fifth. But she’s fine. Just not hungry. Doctor said to let her sleep if she doesn’t wake up to eat.”

“She’s tiny. VERY tiny. She needs to eat.”

“She’s tiny like her mom. She’s not going to be like the rest of them. She’s fine. Just let her sleep. The longer they all sleep the better.”

“I know why you’re saying that,” she says with a grin, and rolls over to face him. “You’re hopeful.”

“A little.”

“Just a little?” She pushes a hand through his hair, nails lightly digging into the back of his neck as she presses her lower body against his. “Feels like a lot.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“I’m surprised you’re even coherent this morning. You were pretty trashed. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember you changed the lock on the door,” he teases.

“I did not change the lock. You just forgot how keys work.”

“And I know I didn’t get any.”

“And…”

“And I know I had a mental breakdown and cried like a little bitch.”

She scowls. “First off, you’re not a little bitch. Far from it. You wouldn’t have all those scars and had all those broken bones or concussions or all that time in the hospital if you were a little bitch. A little bitch is not capable of doing the things you can do. Second, you were emotional. So what? I like that side of you. The who isn’t afraid to cry. It’s very sexy. A man that shows emotion.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she presses a kiss to his lips. “ Beside, if you can’t be emotional in front of me, who can you be emotional in front of?”

“No one. There’s only you.”

“Exactly. So stop being so worried about it making you soft. Or weak. You are neither of those things. You never have been.”

“I don’t know. I distinctly remember you having to help me to the bathroom when I used to come home on the weekends from the rehab place.”

“You’d just gotten over being shot in the throat. Among other things. No one is going to fault you for needing some help. You used to do things like that for me. All the times I’ve been pregnant. You'd help me into the bathtub, you’d tie my shoes for me, you’d put up with my three am cravings.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” he says. “I’m the guy.”

“This is a two way street, buddy. We do things for each other. So I don’t want to hear any of your toxic masculinity bullshit. That’s your father talking.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You could NEVER be like him. You’d never let yourself get like that. I’D never let you get like that. You’re not your father, Tyler. You’re so far from it. You’re a good husband and you’re a great feather. Our kids love you. They don’t fear you.”

“Do you?”

“What? Fear you? No. And I never have. Why would you even ask that?”

“What about in Dhaka? When I grabbed your throat. Were you scared then?”

“Nope. You were angry. You reacted. Yes, you reacted BADLY. But I could see it in your eyes. You weren’t going to hurt me. It was the last thing you wanted to do. I wasn’t scared of you then, and I’m not scared of you now.”

“You’d tell me though, right? If I ever did? Scare you?”

“I wouldn’t just tell you. I’d probably throat punch you.”

He chuckles at that.

“You may intimate and scare the people you’re supposed to intimate and scare, but I’ve never felt that way with you. I know you in ways those people don’t. And I know you’re not capable of hurting me or the kid. You’re a good man. You’re a GREAT man. And I wish you’d realize that. I wish you’d see yourself the way I see you.”

He tucks wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “How do you see me?”

“I see you as strong. Brave. Fiercely loyal and protective. I see you as the sexiest, most beautiful man in the world. I see you as an amazing father. As my best friend. My biggest supporter. My lover. My husband. I see you as all those things.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Well you’re a big man,” she reasons, and then smiles when he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “You’re a big man with an even bigger heart. You just sometimes have to do bad things. To bad people.”

“It makes sense you know, that I’d end up with you. Someone that lived that life. That knows what it’s like. No one else would be able to deal with it. Accept it. Knowing that I’ve killed people. That I’m going to KEEP killing people.”

“It’s not all you do,” she reminds him. “The number of people you’ve helped is a lot higher than the people you’ve killed. But you’re right. Someone who’s never lived that life wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

“Guess I’m pretty lucky you showed up at my place that day.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty lucky too. After everything that I went through with Mark; all the things he did to me. All the damage he caused. You came along and you fixed all of that. You fixed ME. You came into my life when I’d given up on finding someone that would love me. I’d given up on MYSELF. He made me feel like nothing and you make me feel like something. Every time you look at me or touch me or kiss me or we make love. You make me feel beautiful and amazing and worthy. All the things I’d never felt before. All the things I never thought I could be.”

“You ARE all those things.”

“Because you’re the one that brought them out. Who makes me feel all of that. You talk about how lucky you are, but I’m just as lucky. If not more. You talk about how I saved you, but you never think about how you saved me.

He doesn’t think about it. He’s never even considered it outside of the decisions he’d made to get her safely across the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And even now he questions those decisions from time to time; if there’d been a way he could have avoided sending her with Ovi and Saju, or anything he could have done differently to prevent the near catastrophic ending. But he’s never thought beyond those things. Never actually considering just how he was helping her heal and get over the trauma that Mark had caused. Just doing it. Just doing whatever he had to and hoping for the best.

“I don’t think you understand how loved you actually are,” she says “By me. By your children. We’d be pretty lost and miserable without you.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion that sits square in his throat, he combs his fingers through her hair; pushing it off her forehead and placing a soft kiss against the smooth skin. It’s those little kisses that she often enjoys the most. The ones to the brow or the cheeks or temple or against ears or along her jaw. Even those repetitive pecks to the lips; the ones where you pull back and smile at each other between each one. Those small intimate moments...brief snippets...where they connect outside of simply raising a family together.

“We’ll go to Mumbai,” she tells him, as she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose; fingers racing the tattoo on his left shoulder. “IF you can get us a safe place to stay. IF you talk to Anil and he can help you find something. With people keeping an eye on things and armed guards or whatever else or whoever else needs to be there to keep Mahajan away.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Tyler promises. “I don’t think there’s much he CAN’T do.”

“You’ll have to tell him about the puppy. We can’t give Millie a puppy for her birthday and then expect her to be separated from him. That’s cruel.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll get everything worked out.”

“Because it would make me feel a lot better too if you weren’t so far away. Even being in the same county would be better. Not thousands of miles between us. I need that for my own piece of mind. If anything happens to you or any of the kids, it’s better if neither of us are too far away.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you or the kids,” he confidently assures her.

“I notice you didn’t put yourself in there.”

He gives a small, tight lipped smile.

“You’re going to be okay too,” she says, as her fingers move to the ink on his neck and the scar -one of many- left behind from Dhaka. “Like you said, you’ll be able to focus better if we’re close and you’re constantly worrying about what’s going on here. And you need to be focused. You need to be able to put all your attention into things and I know you’ll be able to if the kids and I are there.”

He lays a hand on the side of her face and kisses her softly. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy for you to do this. Especially with the kids.”

“It’s just better this way. If we’re not far apart. What you said last night...if something did happen and you did die over there…” her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes. “...I mean, I know it’s not going to happen and I hate even thinking about it and I feel horrible for saying it and…”

“Calm down,” he gently implores. “Just breathe. Everything’s fine.”

“...and I know you’re going to be okay. But hypothetically speaking, if something did happen and you didn’t make it, I don’t want you being stuck there. If I’m already there, I can find you and bring you home. I don’t want you being left there. I’d want to bring you back where I know you’d be finally able to rest.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he pushes a hand through her hand and tightly grips the back of her head as he kisses her forehead. “Nothing like that’s going to happen.”

“I know. But it makes me feel better to know if something does, you won’t be left there.”

“I meant what I said you know. About you finding someone else. I will haunt him.”

She laughs at that, and he gently brushes her tears away with his fingertips. “There wouldn’t be anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. Wherever it’s next month of fifty years down the road.

“I’m hoping for the fifty years.”

“Me too. You’re still going to love me when I’m wrinkled and gray and can barely hear anymore?”

“I’m going to love you always. No matter what.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to his lips and then tucks her head snuggly under his chin; hands sliding around to the nape of his neck and up onto the back of his head.

“Everything’s going to work out.” he promises, as he drops a kiss on the top of her head and wraps both arms around her.

And he holds her, as tightly as she’ll allow, until the sounds of life...THEIR life...begin stirring in the rooms above.

****

“So do we tell the kids to call you Uncle Koen or Grandpa Koen?” Esme asks as they sit in the surf. Koen in a lawn chair with his feet in the water and her on the ground beside him’ Addie between her legs and resting back against her stomach.

He frowns down at her. “Grandpa? How old do you think I am?”

“According to Tyler, you were already wet behind the ears when the Pony Express was still delivering the man.”

“That little fucker,” Koen scoffs. “He’s starting to forget that he’s no spring chicken himself. Gonna hit the big four-one soon. You think he’d be starting to slow down, not getting ready to speed things back up again.”

“He’s not the type that can still for too long. He always has to be doing something.”

“Well you think having little ones to chase around and care for would give him ‘something’. He’s got five of them. How he’s not worn out from all of them rugrats, I certainly don’t understand.”

“It’s a different pace,” she reasons. “”He was used to something much more strenuous. Faster. Unpredictable.”

“Dangerous.” Koen offers.

She nods, then tightens the strap on Addie’s sunhat. “Unfortunately.”

“I don’t know if he told you or not, but when he came out to my place a couple weeks back, I gave him quite the talking to. About getting back into things. About becoming a merc again and starting his own business. Basically told him he’s a fucking dumb ass. Pardon my language around little ears.”

“Oh, she’s heard way worse already, trust me. Tyler has no filter. Millie already knows all the worst words and she doesn’t hesitate when it comes to using them. She’s got a month on her. And it’s all daddy’s fault.”

“He’s a good one, ain’t he,” Koen remarks, as he takes a pull from the bottle of beer in his hand. “A daddy.”

“He is. He’s an amazing dad.” There’s a smile on her face as she says it, and she scoops up a handful of water and sprinkles it along Addie’s legs. “He’s gentle and he’s loving but he doesn’t coddle them. Treats them like intelligent little beings instead of babying them all the time. He’s so good with them. And they adore him. They worship the ground he walks on, actually. Especially Millie. There’s no one on earth she loves like she loves her daddy. And God help anyone that tries to take him away from her. She will pitch a fit like no other. She will throw down with someone if they mess with daddy; no doubt in my mind.”

Koen grins. “So she’s basically her mom that way.”

“Yeah,” Esme laughs. “I’d throat punch someone if they hurt him or messed with him. I’ve seen him go through too much. No one is going to fuck with him on my watch. But he is. A good dad. He’s an incredible dad, honestly. I swear he has the patience of a saint. You know, it’s weird. When I first found out about Millie, I was so scared to tell him. We barely knew each other and he was in the hospital and in constant pain and trying to heal and going through all kinds of therapies and I thought the last he needed was something like that. And he was freaked out, but he wasn’t THAT freaked out, know what I mean?”

Koen nods.

“I think I was losing it more than he was,” she continues. “And I told him that I didn’t expect anything from him; if he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, I’d leave and never contact him again. That things were so screwed up and I didn’t want to force him to be a dad. That was the last thing I wanted. Not when he already had so much on his plate.”

“Not surprised he didn’t go for that,” Koen remarks. “Knowing he had a kid on the way and having already lost one. He wasn’t letting the chance to to be a daddy again get away from him. Gave him something to live for. Made all the pain and suffering during the aftermath of that Dhaka bullshit worth it. He had something to look forward to; something to keep going. And I’m not talking about just the baby and you know it.”

She smiles.

“He was pretty crazy about you even then, even if it did scare him. He told me as much. That you scared him.”

Esme glances over her shoulder. “He said that about me?”

Koen nods. “He was pretty into it. Into you. Freaked him out; feeling things like that about someone he just met. Last girl who made him feel things like that...well that didn’t end so well, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. I only met her that one time. When his dad brought her to the hospital. What a disaster THAT was.”

“Could have throttled ‘em both,” Koen scowls. “Neither had a right to be there. That old man is better off dead. What he did to that boy when he was growing up? What he did to his mother? He should be in hell where he belongs. And that Sarah?” he scoffs. “What a train wreck THAT was. Don’t think there wasn’t around she wasn’t fucking around on him. I used to tell him to just let her go. Kick her ass out. But he wouldn’t do it. And then she got knocked up and that was that. Used to question if the kid was even his. Looked nothing alike and the kid didn’t look anything like his mother, either. But…” he swigs his beer. “...he stuck around. Felt he was doing the right thing, I suppose.”

“Like he did with me?”

“He didn’t just stick around for the baby and you know it. Naw, he was pretty deep into it already. He didn’t say it, but I could see it. The way his eyes would light up the second you walked in the room. Even his voice would change when he talked about you. I hadn’t heard that or seen that in him in a hell of a long time. That’s when I knew you were a keeper. If you could make a man like THAT...a man with all that darkness and all those issues...actually smile and feel like life’s worth living? Well I’m glad you stuck around.”

She grins and nudges his leg with her elbow. “Koen, you big softie.”

“I know he ain’t the easiest of bastards to live with. You deserve some kind of award for putting up with the likes of him. I’m not married to him and even I want to kill him sometimes.”

“It seems like forever ago,” she says. “So much has happened since then. Since Dhaka. My family didn’t think we’d even make it past a year. It’s been seven since we met. We’ve been married for six and a half. We went from one kid to five. That’s surreal.”

“Fucking insane is what it is. You’re both right out of your damn minds. Repopulating the world all on your own.”

“He wants an even half dozen. I’m not too sure about that. I’m not quite sold on the idea yet.”

“He does realise he can have the fun of making babies not but not actually make any, yeah?”

Esme laughs at that. “He’s got in his head that he needs to leave a legacy behind. Some kind of proof that he did something good with his life. He doesn’t realize that he’s many good things. And he doesn’t need to prove that to anyone. Not even to himself.”

“Stubborn bastard that one,” Koen says, and then glances down the beach to where Ovi and Tyler are immersed in conversation while Declan stands at the edge of the water, tossing tennis balls into the ocean for Sadie and Mac to fetch. “He’s pretty fond of that kid, ain’t he.”

Esme uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looks over at what’s caught his attention. “Ovi’s pretty fond of him, too. He always has been. Even in Dhaka. Especially near the end. He looks up to Tyler. Respects him. Wants to emulate him. We’ve both spent five and a half years trying to get him out of that, but…” she shrugs and turns her attention back to Addie. “...it didn’t work. He adores Tyler. He’s the dad Ovi should have had. The one I wish he COULD have had. He even calls him dad. Not to his face, but he refers to him as his dad. When he was still in school and would talk about his dad, people would be so confused when Tyler would show up to things. He was NOT what they were expecting. But Ovi’s ours. We look at him like he is. We love him like he is.”

Koen nods slowly, considering her words. “Think we can trust him?”

“Who? Ovi? Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“He’s been in contact with his old man, hasn’t he?”

“Not by choice. He’s still terrified of him. That man is a monster. He’s ruined so many lives. Even his own son’s. I hate thinking about what would have happened to Ovi if we’d left him in Mumbai.”

“Kid seems pretty torn up every time someone mentions doing away with the old man.”

“It’s not easy to hear. That people want to kill your father. That they ARE going to kill him. Even if the old man is Satan himself, he’s still his father.”

“What about his mother? Does he have one?”

“She died when he was three. I don’t know how. He doesn’t like to talk about it and I don’t pressure him. I don’t even know if Tyler knows. I have my suspicions about what happened to her, but that’s all they are. Suspicions.”

“You think the old man had something to do with it?”

“It’s possible. I mean, he’s a horrible person. Look what he did to Saju; who’d been nothing but loyal to him. It wouldn’t surprise me if his wife didn’t tow the line and he got rid of her.”

“Think he’d tell him? That we’re coming?”

“I doubt it. Ovi wants this nightmare over just as much as any of us do. Why?” she glances up at him. “You don’t trust him?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea that the kid comes along is all.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that ANY of you are going,” she says. “But I hardly have a say in it. I can’t stop Tyler from doing this. No one can. He’s doing it to protect me. And our kids. You don’t fuck with his family. He’s fiercely protective; sometimes to a fault. But I trust when he says he’s going to end this. He won’t stop until every one of those men on the list are dead. And to be honest, I don’t want him to.”

“So you’re okay with this? This whole idea? Mumbai?”

“No. But if Tyler says this is what has to be done, it needs to be done. I trust him. He’s the one person I DO trust. Especially when it comes to my kids.”

“What about getting back into the job? Being a merc okay? You’re okay with that?”

“I told him if that’s what he needed to do...if he needs that escape so badly and it would keep him sane and happy...that he should go back. And having the business means he won’t have to be so hard core into it. He won’t have to be away from home so much. Because I need him here. So do the kids. He’ll be in the job, but not right in it. And I’m good with that.”

Koen frowns. “He should be home all the damn time. With you. With his kids. None of this job shit. He needs to let that go. That part of him. He needs to walk away from it and never look back.”

“But he can’t,” Esme says. “It won’t let him rest. Not yet. And I need it to. I need it to let him go. And it’s not going to. I don’t know if it ever will.”

“And if it doesn’t? Let him go?”

“We make it work, I guess. We have to somehow make it work and cope with it. I know it doesn’t make much sense; that I’m doing all of this. But I love him. So much it physically hurts sometimes. And if it’s the only thing that’s going to keep him sane and functioning, I have to give him that.”

“You’re a lot more understanding than I would be. I’d be kicking his ass out. Making stupid decisions like that.”

“You know as well as I do that when Tyler’s mind is set on something, you can’t change it. Things will be better this time. Different. Now that he’s the boss, he can stay behind the scenes and let everyone else get their hands dirty. And this will be good for him; it’ll give him something to do. A sense of purpose. He doesn’t feel like he has that right now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Koen snarls. “He’s got all kinds of purpose. He’s got you, the kids…”

“It doesn’t make sense, I know. But that’s how his brain is working. It makes sense to Tyler and that’s what matters. And I’m worried about him and I need you to keep an eye on him. Because he’s been struggling, Koen. Badly. With the PTSD and the depression and the anxiety.”

“And the drinking.”

She sighs. “And the drinking. Six months. He was sober for half a year. He was doing so good. And then all this started and it went to hell and now look where we are. Look how drunk he was last night. He was a mess. And I’m pissed off that none of you tried to stop him. You just let him do it. Get that out of control. When you saw him getting that bad, why didn’t any of you step in?”

“I have no excuse for that,” Koen admits. ”No reasons. I should have. Stepped in and got him to stop when things got out of hand. But he’s not an easy man to control and…”

“If I can stop him, any of you can. I’m five foot nothing. He’s six three. He has a hundred pounds on me, if not more. If I can talk sense into him, there’s no reason why you couldn’t have done it. And then you bring him home like THAT? So I can deal with him. So I can be the one that takes care of a grown ass man AND five kids.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m…”

“And now he’s going to Mumbai. On a job. And I’m supposed to trust him with you guys. I’m supposed to trust that you’ll have his back and that you won’t let him do anything stupid. And I’m not just talking about drinking. I’m talking about the job. If guys don’t have his back, he might as well be going there alone.”

“We have his back,” Koen assures her. “One hundred percent,”

“I hope so. I really do. Because I need him to come home, Koen. Alive. I need my husband and my kids need their father. And I need you guys to watch over him. To make sure he comes back. I need to know that he’s going alone out there. That he has people he can trust.”

“He’s got us,” Koen says. “We’ve got him. We’ll make sure he comes home. He’s smart. He’s tough. Resilient. Nothing’s going to stop him from getting the job done and hauling ass back here. He knows he’s got a good thing. May not always say it or show it, but he knows. And if he ever forgets, you just call me and I’ll come here and beat his ass into the middle of next week.”

“Whose ass are you beating now?” Tyler asks, as he and Ovi join them, the latter wading out into the water with Declan on his hip.

“Yours,” Koen directs a kick at his friend’s back side before he can take a seat in the sand. “If you’ve been hurting for a good ass kicking for a long time, I reckon. Surprise this little thing hasn’t brought you to your knees yet.”

“Oh she has. She’s brought me to them many times. Just not the way you’re thinking.”

Esme snorts and digs an elbow into her husband’s side.

“He knows we have sex,” Tyler reasons. “It’s not a secret. We have five kids.”

“I was telling her that if you didn’t treat her right, I’m going to come here and beat your ass,” Koen says. “And then I’m gonna steal her away and let her see what a real man can do for her.”

Tyler smirks. “Where you gonna find a real man?”

“You cheeky fucker. How do you put up with him, kid? How do you tolerate his shit?”

“He puts up with me,” Esme says. “I’m not the easiest person to live with. But he’s still here. For some reason.”

“Trust me when I say it’s NOT her cooking,” Tyler says, and then leans into her with his shoulder; giving her a playful wink and a kiss on the cheek before taking Addie from her. Laying the baby along both forearms, her head in his palms as he carefully lowers her into the water. “And you have to kill me old man. To get her away from me. That really the hill you want to die on?”

“I think the two are made for each other,” Koen grumbles.

“Yeah…” Tyler grins at her. “I think we are too.”

****

Dinner with Anil and Allison had gone well. Both extremely pleased -and grateful- with the deal that had been quickly reached. The former had offered up his own home in Mumbai for Esme and the kids (and the new puppy, once he’d heard what the name was); an extremely well guarded and safe estate within its own locked and secure five acre compound. He immediately understood Tyler’s need to have his family close and Esme’s fear of being too far away if the worst case scenario came to fruition. The thought of a body not being returned home would be far more distressing than the actual death itself. Every job holds the possibility of not coming back; that is something you come to expect and learn to live with. But the thought of not having your loved one come back to you at all, is a bitter and horrible pill to try and swallow. It’s happened with many mercs; gruesome deaths and the inability of anyone to go and recover the body. Another reason why many die single; no spouse, girlfriend, or significant other willing to deal with such a high price.

Everything will be handled by Anil and his people; twenty four house staff and heavily armed guards and an elaborate security system. Bedrooms for all the children and everything needed properly to care for a baby; toys and bikes and whatever the kids need to keep them occupied and happy, even an offer of tutors to come in and work on school tasks. No expense being spared. For Tyler it makes the stress and the worry easier to bear; knowing that not only will he not be separated from his family by thousands of miles, every effort will be put into keeping them safe. They’ll arrive two days after him, and he’ll be staying at a different location; bouncing from hotel to hotel with Nathan, Ovi, Koen, and Anil. It’s far safer to keep moving then to settle down in one spot; staying at the house would only bring unnecessary attention to Esme and the kids. When deemed safe by the security, visits -including overnight- would be allowed. It isn’t the best arrangement, but a necessary one.

Tyler stands in the kitchen doorway and watches as she moves around the room; finishing the kids’ school lunches, mixing bottles of formula (to give Koen and Ovi at least a couple days head start) and dropping three frozen waffles into the toaster. She’s still clad in the dress she’d work to dinner. Classic black and off the shoulder; fitting like a second skin and reaching just below the knee. He’d been rendered speechless when she’d first walked out of the bedroom hours earlier; not remembering the last time he’d seen her like THAT. She’s always beautiful in his eyes. Whether it’s fresh out of the shower or when she first wakes up in the morning and her eyes are still puffy and blurry from sleep and her hair is a mess. Or even she’s been up for two days caring for a colicky baby. But that...with her hair up and make up and that dress showing off every curve that carrying five children has graced her with...is a beauty that surpasses all.

“Hey,” she cheerfully greets, as she glances up while buttering the waffles. “Kids asleep?”

“All five.”

“I don’t know how Ovi does it. He’s got that magic touch or something. Every time he watches them, they’re all asleep when we get home. Not one of them is awake. How? How does he do it? We put them to bed and we spend two hours fetching drinks of water and herding them back to their rooms.”

“Maybe he drugs them. Maybe THAT’S his secret. It’s not magic. He puts tranqs in that water.”

“Maybe he can give me some, then. I could use a couple right now. Or half a dozen. At least dinner went well. Anil’s pretty reasonable, don’t you think?” She takes a bite out of one of the waffles. “There wasn’t one thing he didn’t agree with. About me and the kids coming to Mumbai.”

“He’s a businessman. He knows what people want to hear and he knows how to give them what they want. And he’s got all the money in the world apparently.”

“How does a guy like him get so rich? What did he do before what he does now?”

“He was special forces. Same as Saju.”

“And in only seven years he’s become THAT rich?”

“Have you seen what he charges people for his services. He charges twice as much...if not more...than he pays his employees. You think it hurt him to give us what he did? That’s probably pocket change to him. Even AFTER he pays us and our mercs, it doesn’t start to scratch the surface.”

“Just seems weird. For it to happen THAT quick.”

“Look how quick we got money. Not just from him. Look what happened in Ireland. Five million for ten minutes of work.”

“You and I remember Ireland very differently.”

“It wasn’t THAT bad.” He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, a jar of vegemite from the cupboard, and a knife from the drainboard by the sink, then joins her at the island.

“Says the guy who got hit in the head with a metal shovel. You and your fetish for garden tools.” She frowns when he opens the jar of vegemite and reaches for one of the waffles. “Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Please don’t eat that stuff in front of me. You know I hate that stuff.”

“It’s good shit.”

“It is not good shit. Oh my God…” she dramatically gags when he spreads vegemite on the waffle. “...Tyler James...ughhh...you’re gross.”

“You used to eat peanut butter sandwiches with onions AND hot peppers on it and you call me gross?”

“I was pregnant with Declan,” Esme argues. “I had weird ass cravings with him. None of my cravings with the other ones were that bad.”

“I don’t know. I remember you putting strawberry jelly on pizza when you were having the twins. Remember the ice cream when you were having Millie? Rocky road and I’d have to melt peanut butter and put that AND chocolate sauce on it.”

“Oh my god that was so good. You even liked it.”

“I swear I put on twenty five sympathy pounds.”

“You needed to. You lost a lot of weight after Dhaka. And now look at you. All thick and muscley and a whole week's worth of snacks. With your massive forearms and big thighs and your cute butt that sticks out.”

Tyler grins. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe. Is it working? Do you like it? If we were in a bar and I started chatting you up, would you let me pick you up?”

“I would definitely nail you in the bathroom.”

“That’s it? What if I complimented your big forearms and hands and called your eyes pretty?”

“I would have let you take me home. For sure.”

“Would you have called me the next day?”

“Yup. I know how good your head game is.”

“So THAT’S why you stick around. You don’t want the long hunt funding someone who does it just right.”

“That’s one of the reasons.”

“What are the other ones?”

“I love you. You’ve given me five beautiful children. And a reason to live.”

She smiles at that, and he leans in to kiss her. “Ewww,” she grimaces. “Vegemite.”

“Try a little bit,” he implores.

“I’ve tried it. I hate it.”

“Just a bit. You might not like it now.”

“I’m never going to like it. Don’t!” she pushes his hand away when he holds the waffle near her mouth. “Get it away from me.”

“It’s not THAT bad.”

“I will puke on you,” she warns. “And not even apologize.”

“Here.” He grabs a hold of the back of her head with one hand and presses the food to her lips with the other.

“You fucker!” She playfully shoves him away, then vigorously wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh god. I can taste it. I’m never going to get rid of that taste.”

“You’ve had worse things in your mouth.”

“You’re gross,” she grumbles, and grabs one of the bottles of water. “You’re gross and a pig and I don’t know how I put up with you. That is so nasty. YOU’RE nasty. That’s not friends.”

“Is that what we are?” he grins. “Friends?”

“With benefits. Which you’re getting any of for a while doing shit like that.”

“Come here…” He reaches out and tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her into him.

“I’m not kissing you when you’re eating that stuff. No way.”

“Not even if I tell you that you looked amazing tonight? Not even if I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman there and that I was so fucking proud that you were there with me? Will you kiss me then?”

“I suppose,” she dramatically sighs, and then lays her hand on the side of his face as he covers her lips with his in a long, slow, deep kiss. The tip of his tongue skimming along the rough of her mouth before he draws away. “By the way,” she says. “You clean up pretty good. You haven’t worn one of these…” she tugs on the tie -now worn loosely- around his neck. “...since we got married.”

“You like it?”

“I do. It’s handsome and it’s distinguished and very sexy. But I think I prefer the way you usually dress. More casual. Jeans and t-shirts with holes in them and baseball hats. And board shorts. We can’t forget your board shorts. All thirty pairs of them.”

“It’s really only twenty eight, but…”

She grins as he presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “That’s the Tyler I know. And I can’t lie. The thought of seeing you in a tactical vest again...all sweaty and dirty...it kind of turns me on. Just a bit.”

“Just a bit, huh?”

“Just a tiny bit. Like a lot. Like a lot, lot.”

“I’ll have to make conjugal visits. Leave the vest on when I come over.”

“I might not be able to control myself. I might throw you down and have my way with you.”

“I wouldn’t put up a fight. Just saying.”

“I know why you can’t stay with us. I totally get it. But it still kind of sucks.”

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “It does. But at least we’re in the same country. Hopefully in the same city. Or close by.”

“I’ll feel better knowing you’re THAT close. The kids won’t understand why they can’t see you.”

“We’ll figure something out to tell them. At least they’ll know that I’m not far away and I can get to them pretty quick if I have to.”

She nods.

“It’s all going to work out,” he promises, and lays a hand on the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. “I have something for you.”

“You do, do you?”

“One of your surprises from the other day. From the kids. They asked me to give it to you so you could have it while we’re away.”

“From the kids?”

He nods.

“Something tells me it’s actually from you.”

“The other one is from me. You’ll get that one WHILE we’re away. It’s from the kids.” He opens the cupboard below the island and pulls out a small gift bag; adorned with unicorns and rainbows and glitter. “Millie picked that out by the way. In case you can’t tell.”

“That girl loves her glitter. And this from them? The kids?”

“Yup.”

“You’re lying, but okay…” She takes the bag from him and sets it on the counter. “What did you do?” she asks, as she pulls out a long, rectangular jewellery box.

“Just a little something. From the kids.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Okay, it’s from me too. I’m the one who had to pay for it. But it was their idea.”

“You know I’m not good at surprises.”

“I know. You’re the worst person to buy stuff for. But it’s from your kids. They thought it up and they wanted you to have something pretty.”

She smiles. “They said that?”

He nods. “They said that mommy deserves pretty things and I agreed. So open it.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” she says, but snaps open the lid on the box. A piece of purple beach glass encased in an intricate cage of rose gold, and dangling from a chain of the same.

“Millie found it and wanted me to do something with it for you,” Tyler explains. “So I did.”

“It’s beautiful,” she turns her tear filled eyes towards him. “I love it. Thank you.”

He kisses her softly, face cradled in his palms. Her soft skin a striking contrast to the rough calluses on his palms and the tips of his fingers.

“You’re too good to me,” she declares.

“Sometimes I think I’m not good enough,” he admits.

“You’ve always been way more than someone like me deserves.”

“You’re full of shit,” he says, then kisses her forehead and takes the necklace from the box; stepping behind her to clasp it around her neck. “You like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. Our kids are perfect. YOU’RE perfect.”

“That last part? I dunno about that.”

“You’re perfect for me,” she says. “And that’s all that matters.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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