#I felt fine??? then hours later I was like no. not fine actually
Text
Let The Light In: Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Words: 2.7K
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff (?!), Friends to enemies to lovers, reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn (but we're about to be on fire).
A/N: A few hours later than planned but still, as promised! Also, time jump???!!! Lmk if we hate and if it should never be done again.
2/5/24
“Leo, I’ve told you 100 times I’m not comfortable doing shoots with Paige anymore. I really need to be taken off the schedule for tomorrow,” you insist, frustration tinging your voice. This is not the first time the two of you have had this particular conversation and you doubt it will be the last.
The morning after your talk with Paige you’d gone to Leo and told him everything. Over the course of your time at UConn Leo really had become like a second dad to you, but this was the first time you really had bothered him with your personal life.
Luckily for you, he’d been very understanding and even took you and Charlie out to breakfast. You, because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle a sobbing 20-year-old and he figured throwing free food at the problem would be relatively pacifying, and Charlie because he figured she deserved a thank you for having dealt with a sobbing 20-year-old all night (and for saving him from the unfortunate task).
The man turns to you with a heavy sigh, his eyes weary. “I’ve tried, for three months now I’ve kept you from being assigned to her, but this time I need the best of the best, and that’s you, kid. I’m sorry.”
The relationship between you and Paige had been hastily sewn back together over the past few months, a single, weak thread intertwining the two of you again. And things have, admittedly, been rougher than you’d like.
The best conversation the two of you had shared took place over the course of a two-hour-long phone call where you let her know that you’d removed yourself from any future shoots with her. She immediately argued that you hadn’t needed to do that. You disagreed, then she disagreed with that, the process repeating again, and again, and again until the two of you realized that the time on the clock was now well past midnight and it was in both of your best interests to head off to bed.
She came up to you after games, just like old times, greeting you in a quick hug and stealing your camera off your neck to flip through a couple of the photos before nodding in approval and wandering off again.
After finals you’d run into the team on a night out and joined them. Paige had walked you home, each of you drunk off your asses and using it as an excuse to cling to each other like ivy to an old brick wall. It had started snowing so you’d offered to let her stay the night, she’d said no.
The holidays stood out only for their flurry of awkward ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy New Year’ texts.
Everything else, however, had been remarkably unremarkable; seeming so insignificant that even when you were spending hours over analyzing each interaction the two of you have had, remembering these felt like a waste of time.
But now, standing in Leo’s office, for the first time in months, even with the lack of real communication, you felt that fragile thread between Paige and you threatening to snap.
“Leo, please,” you said, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want to mess things up with Paige again. We’re barely holding on as it is.”
Leo looked at you with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. “I get it, but you’re both professionals. You can do this. It’s one shoot. Just one. After that, we can reevaluate.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “Fine,” you said finally, the word feeling like a lead weight on your tongue. “But if it becomes too much, I’m out.”
Leo nods, relieved. “I understand. Just give it your best shot.”
The next day, you arrive at the shoot early, the familiar buzz of the studio doing very little to calm your nerves. You busy yourself with setting up your equipment, trying to focus on the technical aspects to keep your mind off the impending interaction with Paige, or rather, the interaction in the setting the two of you had been trying your hardest to avoid.
When she finally walks in, your breath catches in your throat. She looks as beautiful as ever, you had desperately missed being near her, the occasional run-ins the two of you had doing very little to stifle your aching need for the blonde.
The shoot begins, the atmosphere almost painfully tense but still professional enough that Leo was satisfied. You direct her with a calm, steady voice, doing your best to maintain the distance she seems to need.
Paige follows your directions flawlessly, her movements graceful and precise. It is almost like old times, except for the invisible barrier she's put up between you.
During a break, Paige approaches you, her expression tentative. “How’s it going?” she asked softly, her eyes searching yours.
You shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “I mean, it's photography and it's you. Hard not to love it.” Admittedly, the last bit was a lie, having to capture her like this again was nerve wracking to say the least.
Sure, the picture of her on the court is what had gotten the two of you here. But in your mind, these shoots marked the beginning of the end, where you had started getting selfish with your art, where you had been given to much control and in turn, abused it.
She nods, biting her lip. “I appreciate you doing this. I know I’m kinda ruining your thing for you right now which I really didn’t want to do.”
You look at her, the sincerity in her eyes tugging at your heart. “I’m trying P.”
She looks around briefly, confirming that no one is watching before swooping down to briefly press her lips against your cheek. “I know you are.” She whispers before Leo calls everyone back to set.
By the end of the night, almost everyone had left, leaving you and Paige, who had apparently decided to stay with you a while longer instead of returning to her dorm, to pack up alone. This would have been fine if it wasn’t so eerily reminiscent of all the other times you two had worked together. Everything was just still so painfully raw, even nostalgia hurt.
As you tried desperately to busy yourself, ignoring the blondes lingering stare, Paige finally broke the silence. “Do you remember our first shoot together?” she asked softly.
You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips, there were a only a few moments the two of you have shared that didn't immediately make you tear up for one reason or another when you recall them, this was one of them.
“Yeah, I do. You were so nervous, kept fiddling with your necklace, I had to photoshop like half of those damn pictures so you weren’t grabbing at it in all of them.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I was terrified. But you made it easier. You always did.”
“It only ever felt easy when it was with you." You looked at her, the memories flooding back.
—-
The studio was buzzing with activity. Assistants scurried around, adjusting lights, setting up equipment, and preparing the backdrop. You were standing near the camera, checking the settings one last time. For you, the energy in the air was nothing short of electric, this was your game day, this was the thing you lived for.
Paige walked in, her eyes wide and filled with dread. She always liked the end result of getting her picture taken but the process was tedious and dealing with photographers could be just downright unpleasant.
She was clad in her home jersey, the navy blue 5 contrasting sharply against the stark white. She clutched the necklace around her neck, a small silver cross pendant that she would continue to fiddle with incessantly the whole day.
You looked up and saw her, your heart skipping a beat. You'd taken pictures of her before, of course, the night at the gym, a few games, and for a few homework assignments that’s she’d, thankfully, agreed to help with, but this was something else entirely, a shoot. A shoot for Leo.
"Hey, Paige," you called out, offering her a reassuring smile. "Ready?”
She walked over. "Yeah," she replied, her voice missing its usual enthusiasm.
You positioned her in front of the camera, giving her small tips on how to stand, where to look, and how to relax her shoulders. She followed your instructions diligently, though you could still see the tension in her posture.
"Remember to breathe," you said gently. "And try to think of something that makes you happy. It'll show in your eyes."
Paige closed her eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. When she opened them again, there was a spark of confidence that hadn't been there before. She smiled, and you could see the transformation happening right before your eyes.
You didn’t know at the time but all she had done was think about the night she met you.
"That's it," you encouraged, your own excitement growing with hers. "Just like that."
As the shoot progressed, Paige began to relax more, her movements becoming more fluid and natural.
You clicked the shutter repeatedly, the two of you inventing a silent language; thumbs up: all done with this look, change your pose, thumbs down: this isn’t working, give me a second to do change things on my end, palm out: stay still, etc, etc.
By the end of the day, you had captured a series of stunning photographs, each one better than the last as she had gotten more and more used to being in front of your camera.
As you packed up your equipment, Paige had approached you, her eyes shining with renewed sense of excitement. "Need a ride?”
"Oh no it’s okay, thank you so much though” you replied, turning to the girl. “I’m just gonna walk.”
She smiled, her fingers once again playing with her necklace. "No come on, it’s late, I’m driving you.”
You had hesitated despite already knowing your answer, “only if you’re sure," you said, unable to hide your relief.
The two of you left the studio together, stepping into the crisp evening air. The city was quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a serene calm. Paige led you to her car, popping the trunk and helping you load all of your stuff safely in the back.
Once inside, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle as Paige adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. You glanced at her, noticing the way the streetlights cast a soft glow on her face.
"Wanna get ice cream?” Paige said suddenly, breaking the silence. “There’s this cute little place nearby and I’m starving, plus there’s no way the dining hall is still serving dinner.” She’d been so nervous that her words had come out in one breath. It would have been more than just bordering on incoherent if you hadn’t been giving her every single ounce of your attention already, clinging to every word.
You looked at her, surprised by the sudden change in plans but also grateful for the suggestion. You were starving. “Let’s do it.”
Paige grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she turned the car around and headed towards the ice cream parlor. The streets were quiet, the cool evening air settling over you two.
When you arrived, the bell above the door had chimed softly as Paige opened the door for you. The smell of freshly made waffle cones and the sound of soft music filled the air.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that the song playing was the one on an old Etta James record. The same one your grandmother had said was playing at the jazz club her and your grandfather had gone to on their first date. But, you pay in no mind, all of your conscious thoughts consumed by the blonde in front of you.
The parlor was cozy, with a few small tables and a counter displaying a rainbow of ice cream flavors. Paige immediately made her way to the counter, her eyes wide with delight as she scanned the options.
“What are you getting?” she asked, turning to you.
You took a moment to consider, then decided on your usual favorite. “I do this weird thing, I get two kiddie scoops, one cherry and one strawberry and mix them. When I was a kid, my mom used to get strawberry and I used to get cherry and she’d always let me have her leftovers so I mixed them together one day and now I can’t eat ice cream any other way.” You said, smiling.
Despite the fact that you had known Paige for a month, the expression on her face when you told her this was one that could only be described as love struck. There was a gentle warmth in her eyes that caused your heartbeat to quicken and your breath to catch in your throat. It was as if the entire world had melted away and all that remained was the two of you, standing there in that moment, caught up in each other's unspoken affection.
“Here, how ‘bout I get strawberry, and we can do that. You’ve got me curious now” she said.
“Deal. You won’t regret it.” You’d chuckled, reaching your hand out to hers for her to shake, you really had just wanted an excuse to touch her.
You both placed your orders, and the worker, recognizing Paige, had scooped more than generous portions of ice cream into the two cups.
Paige handed you your cherry scoop, and you both sat down at a small table near the window. Paige took a bite of her strawberry scoop, then mixed a bit of it with your cherry. She paused, the spoon still dangling out of her mouth, and her eyes lit up. “Shit this is really good.”
A smile quickly spread across you face. “Told ya.”
For a moment, you both sat in comfortable silence. Each of you dipping into each others cups, giggling when one of your spoons got caught on the others, inevitably making the dessert fall back into the bowl it had just been scooped from. The world outside the window seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy little bubble.
When Paige had finished hers and the remainder of yours after you’d pushed your leftovers at her, the two of you returned to the car.
The drive home wasn’t long but the combination of your fatigue from the long day and the gentle rocking of her car had made you fall asleep without even realizing what was happening.
Pulled up at your dorm, she gently shook your shoulder, “hey, we’re here.”
You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment, then realized where you were.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Paige smiled, her expression tender. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a long day.”
You gathered your things and hesitated for a moment, not wanting the evening to end.
“Thanks for the ice cream, Paige. And for everything else.”
“Anytime,” she replied, her voice sincere. “Get some rest, okay?”
You nodded, stepping out of the car. “You too. Goodnight, Paige.”
“Goodnight,” she said, watching you walk no more than 10 steps away from the car before she was rolling down her car window to talk to you again, “hey, same time next week?”
You’d turned back to her, confused. “What?”
“Ice cream, you and me, next Thursday. Come on it’ll be like, our thing.”
A warmth spread through you at the suggestion, and you found yourself smiling back at her. “Yeah, I’d like that. Ice cream Thursday.”
“Awesome,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s a date then. Goodnight for real this time.”
“Night,” you said, waving as she drove away, her taillights disappearing into the night.
—-
“Hey do you need a ride home, for old times sake?” Paige grabs your attention again as you let the memory fade from into the background.
She's rocking back and forth on her heels as you finish packing up; obviously trying to gauge whether or not she’s overstepping.
You grab the rest of your bags, replying, “that’d be great, thank you" before getting an idea, "hey you know, it’s Thursday, we’ve missed dinner, and if you’re free, I think our ice cream place is still open.”
Paige’s eyes light up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're on."
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige buckets#paige bueckers fic#wcbb#wcbb x reader#wlw#uconn huskies#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers headcannons#fanfic#angst#wbb#paige bueckers angst
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pulling Against The Stream
Summary: you've always been drawn to the sea, even if you feared it. When a handsome stranger shows up he completely turns your life and awakens a side of you you didn't even know existed.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word count: about 11.475
Warnings: 18+, I'm not sure if there really are warnings, nothing gets too explicit. There's talk about nearly drowning, merfolk will eat people (but not in this part). Is Bucky a warning? I think he's a warning🤷♀️
(Notes: this was fun to work on, I fell in love with these two, I'm sad it's finished. Also, sorry Owen, you never did get that apology.)
🧜🏻♂️
The wind was a welcome coolness as it rushed through your hair. You looked out to sea, watching the calm waves rush to shore, wetting the sand before retreating again. It was one of your favourite things to do. Whenever you were on the beach you felt calmer. Like all your problems seemed to disappear. Even if for a little while.
You never went in the water, however.
You hadn’t since you were a little girl and you had nearly drowned. You loved water. You just couldn’t sink into it. Every time you thought about it, you saw your mother's face as she panicked and yelled at you. As a young girl you had realized something had been very wrong, and now many years later, you had avoided breaking through that fear, and simply given up.
You ached sometimes however, seeing families walking into the ocean and swimming, playing together, their laughter traveling through the air. If only that could be you. It was you, at some point, but the accident changed so much.
You sighed. You took one look at the water, saying goodbye in your mind, before turning and grabbing your shoes. You walked to the parking lot, trying to brush as much sand off your feet as you could, before slipping on your ankle socks and your shoes. You didn't want to be late. Your friends would give you a hard time about it. You had agreed to go to this party and they weren't going to let you forget it. They had taken you shopping last week for this event, even. A cute summer dress meant to flatter your body, without looking like you were trying too hard.
You knew they'd been trying to set you up with someone, a friend of Genevieve’s boyfriend, some guy named Owen or Odin.. You didn't really know, because you were protesting before they both convinced you to give him a try.
They meant well, but you were fine on your own.
You had a tiny apartment nearby the sea and you had a simple job that provided enough for you to be comfortable. You loved being able to be near the ocean and simply opening your windows and hearing the crashing of the waves, the smell of salt in the air. It didn’t matter that no one understood. You were happy here.
But today was different. Today your friends wanted you to have fun. And you had promised to. And you were going to. One night going out with friends and a hot man. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Sam was a nice guy, his friend was sure to be nice as well. You hoped. And if not, you had no problem bailing.
You showered once you got home, taking extra time to let the pleasant scent of your shower gel soak into your skin, and made yourself ready. You thought you looked nice, when you saw yourself in the mirror. Owen or Olaf should appreciate the effort.
Your friend Beth picked you up, her recently wedded husband in the back swiping away on his tablet.
“Hon’, put it away, it’s after working hours, okay?” she softly told him and he groaned but listened.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” you greeted them, smiling. They had been together since highschool and had just simply never parted. A rare thing in your opinion, but it gave you higher hopes for the future.
“Okay, so Gen told me they were already at the bar, you know the place, right? Shade?”
You did know. It was near the beach, a restaurant, bar and club all at once. It really gave beach resort vibes, but it was a little less rowdy than an actual dance club, and the food was rumored to be excellent.
You had a strong suspicion it was picked out deliberately to make you more comfortable since it was beach themed. You chuckled a little at the idea.
“It has excellent seafood, I heard.”
“We know how much you love that!” Beth told you, smiling.
It was true, ever since you were little you loved anything fishy. Your mother would go mental getting you to eat anything, unless fish was on the menu. You didn’t know why but other meat felt heavier, and you enjoyed the taste better.
It was a nice place. You arrived and it seemed all tables were full, but it didn’t feel too crowded inside. The restaurant had a perfect look out to sea, and the dance floor was separated in a way that the noise didn’t bother the dinner guest. It had a nice atmosphere. Seeing it now you were sure you wanted to visit again. That is, if the food was as good as promised.
You saw your other friend waving from a table in a corner of the room. You saw the friend that was supposed to be your date. Nerves were beginning to show, but you faked being confident as you walked over.
“Hello, making yourselves comfortable I see?” you greeted, watching the guy, Oscar or Otis, getting up and holding out his hand. You shook it. Firm but not too hard. A good handshake.
He was holding your chair for you and okay, gentleman. But that didn’t mean anything. Manourisms might be nice, but you never knew what lurked underneath.
You mostly listened for the first few minutes to your friends joking and sharing some details about their day.
The waiter showed up soon to take your drink order, and handed you the menu for dinner.
“I heard you liked seafood?” Your date leaned closer.
You nodded. “Yes. A lot. I’ve been told it’s a little unnatural, but I can't help it, I prefer a nice Plaice over a steak.”
“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want.” He smiled kindly.
“Exactly. How about you? Do you have any preferences?”
“Only about my car, and that’s pretty much about bringing me where I want. I know, not very manly of me, but I don’t see the point in getting excited over a piece of metal. It needs to function and if it does I'm good.”
“So what do you get excited about?”
“Honestly?” he leaned over like he was about to tell you a great secret. “I collect old movie posters.”
“Okay, so you love old movies?”
“A lot. My nan used to set me down at the tv to watch with her, I guess it’s where I got my love for black and white movies from. It’s probably to keep the thought of her alive, but that makes me sound mushy.”
“Not at all, it’s sweet actually.”
And it was. He was. He was sweet. You might even like to see him again if this was over. You were becoming more comfortable as the minutes ticked by.
The food was as excellent as expected. The conversation was flowing. And it was great being around your friends again, all together.
Ollie was a good looking man, with kind brown eyes and an equally kind smile. You weren’t sure if there was chemistry between you, or what he even thought about you, but you were sure that if you ran into him tomorrow things wouldn’t be awkward.
The evening progressed smoothly. Eventually your group migrated to the other part of the building, where catchy music and dimmed lights created a bit of a different atmosphere.You got another drink and kind of swayed your hips to the beat of the bass. Your friends were already dragging their partners to the dance area, and you stood next to Otto and kind of felt a little unsure. You wanted to dance, but he didn’t show any signs of asking you. And leaving to go dance alone seemed rude.
“I’m sorry, I am really bad at dancing.” He seemed to notice.
“It’s okay.” You raised your voice to be heard over the music. You were a little disappointed. “Not that I mind bad dancing.”
“No, I know it’s really awful, and I've stopped exposing myself to ridicule as a teenager,” He tried to smile, but maybe he saw in your eyes you were let down.
“I love dancing,” You admitted. “I don't get to do it often.”
“Well, then go. We can talk later.”
You hesitated. “I don’t feel comfortable just ditching you.”
“It’s not ditching when I say you should. Go and enjoy yourself.”
You thought about it for less than a second. “Okay, thanks.” You left your half finished drink and turned to a somewhat empty spot and let the music take over.
It had been a while. You normally didn’t have much time for these sorts of things. And, honestly, you often didn't make the time. You didn’t really like clubs, where it was so warm and sweaty and everyone pressed up against you. But you did like dancing. Moving your body, letting yourself feel like the most powerful sexy being on this earth once you moved to the beat.
You lost time. You twirled and swayed and closed your eyes. You forgot about anything else. But you were thirsty eventually, and glancing around saw your group of friends together talking somewhere ahead. So you walked to the bar to order a drink. While waiting, a body appeared next to you. you glanced up and were temporarily knocked aside by the beauty of him.
Long soft looking brown hair. Blue eyes seemingly glowing down at you as he stared back at you smiling. Oh his smile. Beautiful white pearls. His mouth was full and pleasant.
He was taller than you and seemingly muscular..
He was stunning.
He kept smiling and you were frozen. Looking at him like you had never seen a man. His arm reached out and grabbed the drink the bartender made you and handed it to you, because you were not aware of anything but him. You took it and sipped from it. Thanking him softly , even if you paid for it yourself.
He didn’t seem to move. Seemed comfortable being right at your side. You glanced at your friends once, still animated by themselves and turned to the stranger.
“What's your name?” You asked.
He moved his hands in such a way that made it clear he couldn’t hear you.
You told him yours. And though his eyes twinkled he didn’t say anything. He pointed at himself and made a weird noise. You didn’t get it, until he looked saddened at you.
Was he deaf? Well, no, because he could clearly hear you. What was the word? Mute? You weren’t sure, but you were sure he was telling you he couldn’t speak. “Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but you can’t speak?”
He shook his head. He didn’t seem to have anything with him to communicate either.
He lifted a finger underneath the glass and pushed it upwards. You had to drink or it would spill.
You giggled, “Alright, alright, I’ll drink, stop.”
It should be eerie how much he didn’t take his eyes off of you, but for some reason it didn't feel that way. He curled a finger around a bowl of peanuts and pushed it towards you.
“Oh no, I don't eat those, and you shouldn’t either, who knows how filthy the hands were that touched them.”
He pushed them back again, immediately, looking at them like they failed him. You knew you should go back to your friends. You should. Yet your feet didn’t move. Your eyes were captivated by him. You couldn’t stop looking. And neither did he. It felt like everything around you went quiet, and people ceased to exist. All you saw was him. His shiny hair, his beautiful smile, his eyes who were bluer than the ocean. You noticed you two were standing awfully close once you thought how clean he smelled. He didn’t seem to wear a scent, he just smelled fresh.
You felt a weird pressure in your chest. Close wasn’t close enough. The two of you just stood there, nearly pressed against each other. Wordless. Staring.
You felt him taking your hand.
And you let him. He guided you away. You did not know where, you did not see anyone or anything. Just him. As he led you outside. It was dark, and you felt sand sneaking through your shoes, the silty air of the sea in your lungs.
You were at the beach, the moon shining down on the two of you, illuminating his features.
His hand reached out to stroke your face softly, his eyes following his fingers over your skin, like he wanted to absorb everything he saw and felt about you.
You stood still and let him, it felt like a dream. Everything was blurry but his features were clear. His fingers were so soft as they explored you, his hand traveling over your neck, shoulders, down your arms, you shivered and then he pulled you near.
You hadn’t expected the kiss. His lips were so soft as they stroked yours. You closed your eyes and let him take the lead.
He laid you down. his body covering yours quickly. He was a little cold but you didn't mind as your body was heating up. It felt like a relief to feel his skin against yours.
His lips gliding down your skin, it felt so lovely. Your hands started exploring him the same way.
His strong muscles - and where had his clothes gone suddenly?- but the question left as you explored his form. He was damn near perfect in your opinion, you hadn’t found one flaw so far.
You would have worried about your own flaws if the look in his eyes didn’t stop any negative thought from coming up. You had never seen anyone looking at you the way he did. Like nothing mattered. Like you were the most beautiful woman on this earth. It was neary too much, that look. But you soaked in it, you had never felt more powerful.
Your dress seemed to disappear just as fast as his clothes had gone, you wondered if you were losing track of reality, but it didn’t matter. As soon as you nude bodies connected it had never felt more right. You were both so quiet, like even the sounds you made were private, just for the two of you, no one else was part of it.
You couldn't get enough of stroking his stomach, feeling how he quivered everytime you did. He made a noise sometimes like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.You looked down, and even his manhood was gorgeous. And you never found it particularly exciting before. He was grinning, like he knew what you were thinking. Maybe your expression spoke a thousand words.
“You’re perfect,” You told him. it was completely truthful. You couldn't feel the shame you were supposed to feel.
His hand was laid against the side of your face, as he looked into your eyes again, like he wanted to say the same to you.
You felt your cheeks warm, weird that this felt so much more intimate than your actual naked bodies currently pressed against each other.
He moved a little closer still, his hand reaching down, and next moment he entered you. You hadn’t expected that. It should’ve been too soon, but he slid right in. Oh. He felt… he felt really good.
He moved, gentle long strokes. Not too rough, but precise.
You moaned now. It felt like your body wasn’t your own anymore. As he played it fluently and all the while your eyes not leaving the other.
You barely remembered when you finished, or him. All you knew was how he felt. And how he kept going, and again. Like he couldn't get enough. He managed to take a break at some point, to gather you up and carry you to your house, naked as the day you were born. It was a fortune you two weren't caught.
At your apartment, he set you down, you didn’t even remember unlocking the door, but as soon as you stood inside he was on you again.
His mouth was pure aphrodisiac to you. You couldn’t get enough. And neither could he, as his mouth and tongue explored all of you. You felt high with how he made you feel. You didn’t think you ever experienced such pleasure, and so much of it.
And all you seemed to notice was his blue eyes that were a beacon calling out to you and keeping you home.
🐚
The next morning you woke to a naked body next to you. Long brown hair spread out over the sheet as he was still asleep.
You took a moment to appreciate the sight.
Then you remembered you had ditched your friends. and your date.
You groaned and fell down on the pillow. you better had a good excuse ready when you faced them. And you didn’t have one. Well besides, “met a hottie and I couldn’t resist, apparently.” God, what had gotten into you? Besides him…
You glanced at him. Well, if you could take a picture Beth would at least understand. She was crazy about those romantic movies with chance meetings. But Genevieve…Well it was her boyfriend’s friend after all, and that made it more awkward.
Your lover woke up. Rolling over, exposing himself without shame. He reached out for you and you held your hand up. “No, I can't.” He actually looked disappointed. What had he expected, you had lost count how many times he was inside you last night. “And I'm afraid I have to face my friend’s wrath for leaving them behind. I can’t believe I did that, without even saying goodbye.”
His hand stroked your hair, while he hummed. Was he comforting you? You peaked through your hair at him. He looked so content though. Well, he hadn’t deserted his friends after all. He had seemed to have shown up alone.
You searched for your phone. It was on the dresser where you left it yesterday. And with about 84 messages staring back at you menacingly.
You decided to check Beth. She was worried. Genevieve’s wasn’t different, but apparently Beth had seen you leave, and they were confused. It wasn’t like you, and especially not without at least telling them something.
You decided a group call was best. Dive into the deep and face your actions.
“I know I fucked up,” is how you started the conversation, “I don’t know what came over me. He just showed up and it was like I stopped thinking, and I'm sorry I worried you. And I'm sorry for Ovid, he seemed nice. I just…. I have no idea.”
“He was very good looking,” Beth agreed.
“Owen is good looking!” Genevieve defended immediately. Owen! You wheeped inside, finally knowing his name…and relieved Gen didn't call you or on it.
“Yes, but this guy was like a model, come on Gen. “
Silence. She didn't want to admit it out loud.
“He’s still here,” you whispered.
“What!” Genevieve yelled. “Oh my god you skank, you let him stay the night?”
“I think we were too busy the whole night to even notice it was morning,” your cheeks reddened while admitting it. “You have no idea, it’s like he couldn’t get enough of me, and I…well I have never experienced this.”
“That good huh?”
“Oh my god you have no idea. He was…he was a lot, but not enough you know? I felt like I was high or something, he is so gorgeous, guys, and his body…if only you could see.”
“I can pretend to drop something off right now,” Genevieve said, deadly serious.
“What, no. No, we want privacy. I think. I’m not sure, he doesn’t seem to mind if anyone sees him naked, and I think…we left our clothes at the beach.”
Shrieking was heard from both sides. You continued to take their teasing for a while. You got it, it was probably hilarious to hear.
“You’re not mad at me?” you asked quietly once they calmed down.
“Maybe, but also, kind of impressed. Sam is probably more angry, because it’s his friend, but Owen took it in stride.”
“Oh god, I don't even know what to say to them.” you sighed. You were feeling shame, you did, but you also really didn’t regret it. Which was weird because you were never this irresponsible.
“Don’t worry, I'll smooth things over.”
“In the bedroom you mean?” Beth chuckled.
“Well it has worked so far. Besides, once I tell him this was the first time you ever got carried away and you're normally not like this at all, it must be a really special person to make you act this way, he'll understand.”
“I don’t even know his name.”
“Oh god this is priceless. You’re finally getting in touch with your inner whore.”
“Am not, but he’s just so..”
“Yeah yeah dreamy, we get it.”
An arm wrapped around you from behind and soft lips explored your neck. A familiar firmness pressing against your back.
“Hey, I’m talking to my friends,” you protested half heartedly, because you were already enjoying the ministrations.
He ignored your words, even though you were sure he understood you just fine. His tongue licked you softly, and your knees buckled.
“Okay, okay, I'm going to hang up, I will talk to you later.”
“Oh my god girl, what's gotten into you, is he-”
You hung up and dropped the phone. He turned you around and picked you up . Fuck, the way he made it seem effortless really did things to you. Forget about being sore, it was worth it.
✨
You were exhausted. Even after taking another nap. Your body pleasantly buzzing with all the attention it received. You had to get up eventually to get food.
Making some eggs and grilled cheese, you offered your lover something to drink. He sniffed everything carefully and then turned his nose up.
“Water then? Can’t go wrong with water.” You offered him a glass.
He did accept it, finishing it in one gulp and handing it out to you.
“Another?” you asked after seeing him drink like this, and he nodded.
He drank about 3 glasses before he seemed to be satisfied.
But he didn’t eat anything,
“Surely you must be hungry?”
He nodded.
“You don’t like eggs? Or cheese?”
He grabbed an egg and broke it to slurp the gooey stuff before you could stop him. A raw egg, you shuddered. But some people did that, right? Like those bodybuilders, for the protein. And he did seem to work out. Your eyes got temporarily lost glancing over all his muscles, before snapping out of it, when you met his eyes and they seemed to darken again. You quickly turned. As much as it was the best night of your life, you were really really tired. Not used to this kind of exercise at all. Your body started tingling however, so it was hard to not think of all the details he had given you to fantasize about for the rest of your life.
“So, I was thinking, we should find something for you to wear. We left our clothes at the beach, and I doubt I have much that fits you.”
He shrugged. It didn’t seem to matter to him at all.
“You can’t walk around naked, you’ll get arrested!”
His eyes glanced at yours, noticing the shock and then he pointed outside. “We should collect it?” You guessed and he nodded. “Well, I’ll go, you can’t go out this way.” So you showered and got dressed, but before you left he kept preventing it by kissing you, and again…And once more at the door. Before you pushed him back inside.
“Someone might see you,” you hissed , looking around if none of your neighbors were in the hall. “I’ll be back soon. Find something you can eat, yeah? I don’t need you fainting from starvation.”
He leaned into you again to kiss you, and you evaded him. “Later!” you giggled, watching the pleased smirk on his face. You fixed your hair, and your shirt, the cheeky bastard had sneaked in a handful, and went on your way.
You couldn’t believe you slept with someone on the beach, in full sight of potential witnesses. Finding your clothes didn’t take long, but your dress was covered in sand and seaweed, and his clothes were wet and needed a good wash. You didn't find his shoes, and then wondered if he had even worn any. You couldn’t remember, you didn’t exactly pay attention to his feet.
You took your hoard home and after a long make out session, where your lover acted like he hadn’t seen you for years, you made your way to the washer.
“Once they’re dry you are free to go.” Then realized that it sounded like you were kicking him out, and hurried to add. “If you want to, I mean, whatever you want.”
Whatever he wanted seemed to be you. His hands wouldn’t leave you alone. And you didn’t know where to go from here. Did one night stands normally stay until the afternoon the next day? Or seemed to keep wanting to have sex? You didn't even know his name.
“I don’t know what to call you,” you told him sadly. “Maybe you can write it down?”
You searched for pen and paper but he just stared at it curiously.
You wrote down your name.”You know, my name…now yours?”
He grabbed the pen and it broke, he must have held it too tight. “Oh shit, okay, no problem. Do you have anywhere to go? Like a job or home?”
At the word home he lit up. He nodded enthusiastically and wanted to go outside
“Wait, your clothes!” You held his hand, “We have to wait until they're dry. Maybe we should watch some tv until they are.” You led him to the couch and turned on the tv. He flinched but soon relaxed and watched the screen fascinated. He grabbed the remote and started zapping quickly, often looking at you with a bright smile like he had found some new toy to admire. You giggled.
“You act like you've never seen a tv before.”
He cocked his head and just stared at you.
“Okay, pick anything you want, I don’t mind.”
He did eventually settle on something. A documentary about ocean life and his bright eyes didn’t leave the screen for a while. Occasionally he seemed to scoff at something the narrator said but he stayed quiet. You wondered what it was like, not being able to talk verbally. It must be frustrating. Maybe even lonely.
He didn’t seem to have anything on him either. No phone or any information to figure out who he was. But he was a grown man and you couldn’t just pry. Besides, it's hard to pry when communication was off.
Once the laundry was done you handed him his clean clothes, and he looked kind of repulsed wearing them again.
“You really like being naked huh?”
He shrugged, then reached out to you with a teasing smile as he lifted your shirt a bit. “Oh no, I quite like being covered, thank you very much.” You giggled as he threw you a pout. “Come on, let's go, you wanted to show me home?”
He lit up again, and quickly grabbed your hand to drag you outside.
“Is it very far? Do we need the car?”
He shook his head and pointed again.
“Okay, lead the way, I'll follow.”
He walked fast, like he couldn’t wait, he made some weird noises in the back of his throat that you interpreted as excitement, and his enthusiasm felt addictive.
He dragged you towards the beach again, then to the water. He seemed to want to keep walking, but you froze.
“No! No I don’t go in-”
He turned to look at you, questioningly. Pointing to the water.
“No, I- I had an accident, many years ago. I don’t swim. I can’t.” You took a few steps back, your heart beating fast. Your mom’s voice and face clearly visible still after all this time, as she found you and yelled, crying, and in complete panic. You had nearly died that day your parents told you. And ever since, you never went in the water again.
He held his hands out for you to take but you shook your head, feeling faint and stepping back to sit down. “No. please, don’t”
He sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and just holding you. Sheltering you from the fear that raised inside of you as you remembered.
🌊
It had been a beautiful day. The sun shined brightly and the water seemed calm underneath the boat you were on. You loved the water, and your parents enjoyed being away from work for a while.
As a single child you were used to entertaining yourself and that's what you did most of the day. Walking back and forth on the boat, making up games in your head, watching the sea as the boat cut through the water smoothly.
Your parents were laying on deck somewhere, but you were much too busy to pay attention to them. You had just spotted something that kept your eyes firmly on the water. It never appeared at the same spot though, constantly moving. You didn’t know what it was. At that age your knowledge of any sea creatures was minimal, but it didn’t matter, anything was fascinating at that time.
Your sandwich dropped out of your hands and floated in the water for a second, before it disappeared. A fish? You walked back to your parents, pretending to be hungry still and getting another sandwich. Happily you walked back to the railing again, ripping a piece off and threw it. And it happened again. You were used to feeding ducks, but you never fed anything else, so this was fun!
Another piece and another until it was gone.
In your enthusiasm, and to continue the game, you hand reached out to your doll and you threw that as well.Then watched it float in the water.
Then you realized that your doll was lost in the ocean forever. Would it be eaten as well? Or sink down, like toys often did when you took a bath. You started crying, and wanted to run back to your parents, or the nice man that moved the boat, to make them stop it, to make them return it, but then you saw a hand grab it and throw it towards you. The doll landed with a wet squish on deck. Happily you ran towards it and hugged it, soaking your own clothes, but you didn’t mind. You had little Boop back. The world was perfect once again. You looked up and thought you saw a blur of color coming up and going down again fast. A friend. You were sure of it. Friends did things like this. Sharing lunch and sharing toys.
You ran inside to find stuff you could play with, but not mind missing. Like a plate, and your mom’s purse and one of your dad’s shoes…you grabbed it into your tiny arms and walked back outside. One by one you threw it in the water. And watch it sink, until suddenly it was thrown back up again. You clapped your hands, and threw it back in again.
This little game continued for quite a while, and sometimes you saw more of your friend. Dark hair, eyes looking at you from the water. Why was this boy in the water for so long? Mother had told you to be careful because the water was dangerous here and you couldn’t swim yet.
Why did he stay in the water, he seemed to enjoy it there. You wanted to climb over the railing and go to him, but your mother’s warning sounded in your ears, and you didn't want to get punished. You waved the next time he came up again and he waved back.
You didn’t remember very well what happened in between this fun time, and what happened next, but the sky changed and the boy seemed to fall behind the boat more and more, as the water seemed to be less smooth now than it was before.
There was some yelling from the men on the boat and your mother’s worried voice calling out to you. Eager to listen, you let go of the railing and turned to go towards her, maybe even tell her there was a boy in the water, when a big wave suddenly made you lose your balance.
You slipped easily and went down into the water. The coldness being the most you remembered of that scary moment.
The water seemed to suck you in and closed all around you as it became dark instantly. Your tiny body thrashing against the current and lack of air. You didn’t know what to do, this was something that your mind had not prepared you for.
Cold arms grabbed you, however and dragged you down, or up. It was hard to tell. But you did feel water sliding past your body and he pushed you up , and then air.
The sea kept pushing against your body and kept taking you down, but you were held up and you could breath, you coughed and held onto the arms for dear life.
When he started swimming away, the boat was not even visible anymore, you realized it was the boy. The dark hair and eyes were the only recognizable thing you had seen.
He swam against the current, somehow strong enough to do so, and it took a really long time before anything changed but the vast ocean in front of you.
It was scary but it was also the most exciting thing you had experienced. Because he was a friend! He had helped you! You saw a glimmer under the water, or felt something smooth and slippery against your legs, but it did not occur to you what it was until later. As land came in sight and he pushed you forward until you could stand. But you didn’t stand, your legs were too shaky to. You sat in the middle of the shore as water leapt against you, but you couldn’t be dragged away anymore. He floated in front of you, making sure you stayed where you were.
“Where am I?'' You sobbed a little, the adrenaline coursing through you and feeling scared without your parents.
His face dipped in and out of the water. “Land” he told you.
“I wanna go home,” You whined.
“They'll find you here…I think. It’s land.” He looked around. “They know you fell, they will look.”
You hoped so, this was worse than that time your dad was late picking you up from school, and you had to wait with the teacher as she sighed at the inconvenience. You never felt like she liked you after that. And mother would be angry because you fell in the water, like she told you.
You cried some more, but felt a cold hand around your ankle.
“They’ll come.” the boy said firmly. You didn’t know why you heard him so clearly, while you couldn't talk under water at all.
Then you saw his body. Your eyes glanced from his torse to his legs. But there were none.
You gasped. “Fish?”
He frowned until he saw where your eyes were focusing on, and then he laughed. “No, it’s a tail. So I can swim.”
“Can I get one?” If you had a tail your mother wouldn’t be angry anymore because you could swim just as well as the boy.
“I’m not sure. You’re not like us.”
‘Oh,” you said, disappointed.
“I know some of you can, I saw it myself!” He then said proudly. “And it would make sense. I did save you.” He glanced at you fiercely suddenly. “That means you're mine.”
“Like a friend?” you said excitedly.
He frowned. “What’s that?”
“Someone you play with. Someone you like.” you explained, glad to know something he didn’t.
“Oh. Yes, like that. I like you,” he cocked his head. “I can keep you.”
“Okay,” you smiled. You weren’t scared anymore. The weather, as suddenly as it had changed, had turned calmer again, and you weren't alone. You had your friend.
“I’m going to have to bite you though. If I'm going to keep you.”
Bite you? That didn’t seem fun. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to be called a scaredy cat again, like Lisa sometimes told you when you jumped out of the way if she threw a ball at you, and he had saved you, so it might only be fair.
You shrugged, pretended to not be worried and said. “Okay.”
He came up and grinned. It suddenly seemed less friendly like this, but you already said you’d do it, and a promise is a promise, wasn’t it? He slithered up closer, and you were mesmerized by his tail. It was really beautiful colors, blue and white and shiny…you wanted to touch it, but your mother raised you right, you didn’t just touch people. Unless they said it was okay, like you did, to this boy.
He moved really close and you noticed how cold his skin was. You felt his face moving closer to you and wondered where this bite was going to be. He made a weird noise, but he seemed to not say anything if his face was out of the water. Maybe he was shy up close?
You felt his mouth on your neck, and then, quickly, he bit down sharply. You screamed because it did hurt, and moved back, but he moved with you until he let go. Blood was covering his mouth and your hand flew up to your neck to feel.
"That hurts!"
“Of course it does, how else are we supposed to feed?”
You frowned. “You're not supposed to eat me.”
“No, not you,” he seemed to agree, “I Wouldn't bite you there if I was going to eat you.”
Where was he going to bite if he was? you wondered but in your young mind it seemed like an explanation enough.
“Now I can find you. And you'll come look for me , right?
You nodded. Maybe you could go on another boat trip, or sometimes your parents took you out to the beach. You loved the beach! It would be even better with a friend to play with.
You continued talking, and playing. He loved splashing you with his tail, until you shrieked in protest but couldn’t stop laughing. Until you became so exhausted that you started yawning and your eyes were drooping.
“They’ll be here soon,” he frowned, like the thought bothered him. “You should go on land, and I need to…leave.”
“Can’t you stay?” You pouted.
“They can’t see me, they’re not friends.”
You nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
He hummed and seemed to drift back.
You hoped he would still be nearby so you could wave at him once your parents were here. But you crawled further onto the sand and laid down there, and sleep took over you. It was the worried yells that woke you again.
Your parents rushing over to you and grabbing you and shaking you and so much yelling. Your mother's panicked voice as she said she thought you were dead. That you had drowned. Your father tried to calm your mother down. The two of them taking turns holding you, too rough, too long. You, cryinging and panicking again, remembering the cold dark water. How it kept dragging you back. How there had been no air and your body felt like it was going to explode from pressure.
How afterwards there had been no boat trips or beach days. And how when the time came to learn how to swim your mother's face triggered your fears so much that you hadn't dared to go into the water, and had full out panic attacks until they gave up.
How many trips to the therapists hadn’t been enough to keep from telling that a boy saved you, that not only fishes had tails, until you learned to keep your mouth shut and realized it was a dream. Maybe something your mind conjured up to feel safe again. A savior. A protector.
You still sometimes told someone, like your friends, but no one believed it and you were forever stuck in believing that they believed it wasn’t real, and therefore so should you, and still feeling it had been so real to you.
But what about the bite? Well, there had been one, and your parents took you to the doctors, afraid a shark or something had nibbled on you, but there had been no infection. In fact it had stopped bleeding very quickly, and healed very well. It was a faint shimmer on your skin now. You knew where it was and knew the slight ridges you had to look out for, but it was barely noticeable. Still whenever you rubbed it, it gave you a sense of safety. Something that seemed to look over you.
💭
You sat on the sand, looking out to sea. Next to you sat your lover, maybe you should give him a nickname because it sounded scandalous calling him that. Like a Victorian lady wrapped up in a torrid affair, waiting to be exposed so your older husband could challenge him to a duel to the death. Although, looking at him , you were sure he would win any fight. His body really was something. Healthy, with muscles in all the right places, no tan lines anywhere. Well, he did seem to have a fondness for nudity after all.
You lowered your eyes, you had no idea what had gotten into you. One look at him and you were a goner. Your mind simply stopped thinking for itself and only seemed to focus on his beauty. You never expected to be this shallow. But it wasn’t just looks, he was kind. Even without words he made you feel understood and safe. He had comforted you and listened to your ramblings as you shook under the fear that raced through you. Making noises that let you know he was there. His strong arms keeping you safe from the horrors in this world.
You had told him what happened. Told him about falling overboard and nearly drowning, how your parents found you later, and were surprised to see you unharmed, but were upset nevertheless. How everything resulted in your fear of being in the water. But that you loved the sea, and kept coming back almost everyday, no matter how short. You just never stepped inside it.
How you couldn't swim because of it.
He listened, eyes full of understanding and interest. Not once did you seem to bore him. But you didn’t tell him about the boy, you didn’t want him to think you were crazy, or childish. No, you told him what your parents told you. How you must've swum upwards and the water pushed you to shore again. How you were lucky.
How you had to be more careful. And you could have died. It was something your therapist had said shouldn’t have been said to a young child, but it was said in worry, and your mother’s reaction made your fear worse. You knew all that. And yet, you never dared to dip even a leg in. You tried your feet a few times but it all seemed to overwhelm you shortly after and it felt easier to avoid.
can’t
You looked at Blue, deciding on that name because of his eyes and told him. “I find it weird that the sea can both terrify and soothe me. I stay away, I yearn to be here and yet, I can never let go and embrace it. There is a feeling something will happen, and I don’t know what.”
He wrapped his arm around you, letting you lean against him.
“I wish I could know your name,” you sighed. “I know nothing about you.”
And yet he knew your deepest fear.
He took your hand and laid it on his heart and smiled. It felt like a love confession and you smiled. “You’re the romantic type, huh? All handsome stranger coming to save the innocent lady and sweeping her off of her feet and courting her.”
He grinned widely and nodded, then got up and held his hand out for you. You took it. Then he grabbed and lifted you up as he was holding you in his arms again. You honestly did not think you would ever tire of it. It was such a cliché, but it really made your heart beat faster.
“You’re good at courting too?” you teased, and watched him nod ever quicker.
“You seem perfect. Are you sure I'm not dreaming?”
He kissed you. Well, it wasn’t the worst dream if you were.
🏖️
Your one night stand turned into two, you and Blue spend the whole day together, walking down the beach, collecting seashells, he offered you the prettiest ones and you accepted gladly. You had enough shells, but it was sweet to be gifted them.
You arrived back home, rosy and a little sweaty, and very hungry. Pulling open your freezer and fridge to see what you could make, you noticed open packages and a lot more room than you had the day before.
“Blue?” you asked over your shoulder, knowing he by now knew it meant him, and he appeared a second later in the kitchen.
“Did you…eat the fish?” You asked a little nervously, the question seemingly ridiculous, but there really wasn’t any other explanation.
He nodded happily. and you looked at all the packaging he finished. That was a lot of fish…you also didn’t see any used pans or smelled anything coming back. Now he could have cleaned up… But it had all been frozen, it would’ve taken a while to defrost before it could be prepared. There had not been enough time before you had returned looking for your clothes.
“Did you eat it raw? Because that’s very bad for you.”
He shrugged.
“You could get sick.’ You worried, you didn’t really know what could happen, but getting sick was one thing you heard.
He shook his head.
He hadn’t seemed off, maybe raw fish was okay when it had been frozen, and was still frozen at the time of consumption? You had no idea.
“Are you one of those uncooked food eaters?” you tried.
He nodded.
“Oh okay, well, I don't really know what I have at home for you to eat.”
He pointed at you, grinning.
You laughed. “Well I doubt I would be tasty.”
He grinned even wider, a little more menacingly and stepped forwards, shoulders bracing like he was going to jump you.
“Oh no. I’m chewy, really unpleasant to get stuck between the teeth,” you giggled as you stepped away. “Will give you horrible stomach pains afterwards, you won’t like it at all.”
Then you shrieked as he moved forward and tried to sprint away. Tried, because he had you the next moment. He kept amazing you with how fast he was.
He held you against the fridge and stared into your eyes and hummed.
He made you weak when he looked at you that way. His eyes told you there was nothing he would rather look at than you, and it made you gooey inside. You had never had a man making you feel this way.
“You are so beautiful,” you whispered. So kind, so strong, so gentle. He really did seem perfect.
He kissed you slowly, his full lips just loving yours, taking his time. By the time he lowered them to your neck you had already widened your legs and he lifted you up.
While being carried to the bedroom, you really did wonder if this was real.
💙
The next day you went shopping, there was no food and Blue didn’t seem to like anything you had in the apartment. He wanted to come with you, and you easily agreed, having become used to his presence. you closed his seatbelt for him because he didn’t seem to remember to, warning him ‘safety first’ before starting the car. The way he looked being in your car was strange, but you didn’t comment. You knew he was a little different, and maybe he lived somewhere very remote, or maybe he didn’t come from here. It wasn’t a good explanation, but you had no reason to complain when he was the best man you had met so far in your life. So he didn’t know how technology worked? He knew how to work your body and that was much more important. The thought made you blush. You had never seen yourself as a very sexual creature, but he sure brought it out in you.
Shopping was, interesting, so to say. Blue looked around in wonder, but also passed by most foods you would pick out, and visibly preferred the fish section. You decided to go with what you both would like, but made a note to make sure to cook it for him before he died of salmonella. It would’ve been a tragic ending to your love story.
Packed with way too much fish you would ever finish on your own, you went back. Cooking was a little complicated, because Blue was intrigued by the process, but was more intrigued with touching your body during, and you were so distracted you nearly burnt the meal. And forgot to cook the vegetables properly.
Blue looked suspicious once a plate was put in front of him.
You laughed. “Okay sorry, but I don’t know how to eat fish other than cooked, and I don't want us to get sick. It’s good though, I promise. And I kept your veggies uncooked, like you wanted, right?”
You didn’t know how a raw diet worked, but fish was something you did not want to serve raw. You just hoped he wasn’t insulted by it.
He took a bite carefully, pulled a face, seemed to hesitate, then took another bite pondering. It was fascinating to see all the expressions so clear on his face. He showed everything he was thinking, and it felt like a better communication system than all the people that said one thing, schooling their face, but meant another. Blue had clearly never learned any tact, but at least he seemed honest.
Afterway carefully chewing, he seemed to decide that it was acceptable. You dug in yourself, it was very nice, your favorite dish. You were happy he hadn't found it disgusting. For some reason, the thought made you realize you would've been a little hurt if he had. Like he would have rejected a part of you, which was a ridiculous thought and you tried to shrug it off.
Desert was much more simple.
He had decided it was you. Again. You really enjoyed chocolate mousse, but the way he put his tongue on you had you decide that chocolate mousse was overrated. This was truly the best way to finish dinner.
🐟
You woke up. Warm, comfortable, an arm slung around your waist. Blue was still sleeping. Maybe you tired him out for once. The thought made you smile to yourself.
You carefully moved away from him to stretch, and made your way to the bathroom. Relieving your bladder and washing yourself, you wonder if this was going to be your life now. He seemed to have no intention to go, and you had no intention to make him leave.
It was strange, because you had just met. You knew nothing about him. But you still felt so comfortable around him.
You made sure to check in with your friends who were stunned with the fact your one night stand turned into some prolonged romance, but were happy. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but how else could you explain the jittery feelings that coursed through you as you thought of him? You didn’t want him to leave!
Things had to be settled today, you decided. One way or another you had to get some information out of him, or see what he wanted to do with the situation. What did he want? Would he like to keep seeing you? Go on an actual date? Was this already considered dating? You were a little worried he would suddenly disappear. And it frightened you how much you knew you would care about that.
“Alright , we need to talk.” You told him at breakfast, as he sucked on his raw eggs, something that still seemed disgusting to you, but you wisely didn’t comment.
“Well, I'll talk and you'll listen,” you realized. “This has been a lot of fun. Great, really, but I should know more about you, right? Who you are, or where you come from?”
You scratched your neck. it had been itching a little since yesterday, and while it was noticeable at first it started to get worse today. Maybe you had a little sunburn from yesterday, you did spend a long time on the beach.
Blue’s eyes zeroed in on your neck, it was like he could see what was there. But no one really did unless they were very close. He seemed to get a little dazed before your voice broke him out of it.
“Unless this is coming to an end.” You hated how your voice became a whisper. You didn’t sound confident at all, and maybe a little pathetic. Damn those stupid feelings.
He looked up at you confused. Like he didn’t know what you meant.
“I would like to keep seeing you, but I don’t know if that is what you want?” You told him, gathered up the strength to get some surety. It was either finding him missing at some point, or asking clarity for your own piece of mind. Maybe he had been waiting to see what you wanted anyway.
He got up, and long streaks of his legs marched him over to you, he grabbed your face with one hand. Gently holding it, he grabbed your hand with his other and put it on his heart.
“I think that’s a 'yes', I want to keep seeing you’?” you whispered, feeling yourself melt. Knowing he knew because he had to hold you up.
He frowned and nodded. Then he put his hand on your heart. Or maybe your boob, you weren’t sure. But it felt terribly romantic.
“Okay, that’s a step. Maybe we can go to your place, you must be tired of wearing the same thing.” You glanced down at his body “Well, when you do wear clothes.”
He pointed outside.
“You want to go now?”
He nodded but bit his mouth, like he was pensive about something.
“I don't have to go in, if that’s not what you want.”
He pointed at you.
“Me? You’re afraid I don't want to go inside?” As you saw him nod, you wondered how bad the neighborhood he lived in was. “I don’t care, If it’s that terrible you wouldn’t bring me there right?”
He nodded seriously.
To lighten the mood you joked. “And I'm sure you can protect me against any danger.”
He seemed to make himself bigger somehow, without making himself seem ridiculous. God, he was perfect. You wondered if one last time before you went would be a good idea. The sheets were beginning to be in need of a good wash, but once more wouldn’t matter by now, would it? And -
Your thoughts were cut off with a kiss and a devilish grin, like he had known where your mind had gone.
“Sorry, am I really obvious?” You said through heated cheeks.
He nodded, shrugged, and seemed to spread his arms out like he said ‘Who could blame you’.
You put your hands over your face. “You’re awful, no shame at all.”
There was a noise that, when you glanced back at him, might've been a laugh. so it made you laugh and then you were kissing again.
But he broke it off before it got too heated. Pity. He pointed outside again.
“Alright, let me make myself ready okay, And wear clothes! Not everyone will appreciate seeing your tooshie exposed.”
You did though. You enjoyed it very much, it was round and not too big or small. You stared at it as many times as you dared, and he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact his own eyes never left your body either. He was just enraptured with you as you were with him.
Realizing you had been staring at the carpet for several minutes now without making progress at getting ready, you hurried. He waited at the door for you with the same cut off shorts and shirt he had been wearing all this time, no shoes. Oh god you had taken him shopping and no one had even mentioned he wasn’t wearing shoes. You had broken the one rule that stores would give.
You figured maybe no one noticed, because they were too busy staring at his handsome face. The only explanation you could think of.
You offered the car, but he pointed in another direction, and so you figured he must’ve lived nearby.
But as you neared the beach again, you became confused. Maybe he was a tourist? They sometimes booked one of those beach houses. But he led you on the beach itself, towards the water.
“What? Blue…you were supposed to take me to your home.”
He pointed to the water.
“What do you mean? You live overseas?”
He pointed at the water again, frowning. He made a movement with his hands and you didn’t get it, so he did it a few times, looking frustrated.
“Swimming?”
He stopped in relief, pointed at the water, to himself, to the water, ‘swimming’.
“You swam?” you said, stunned.
He nodded. Pointed towards you, and then him.
You didn't get it, again. “I don’t understand, sorry.”
He grabbed your hands, held them, and stared into your eyes lovingly.
“I get it, it’s hard to explain this way, really hard with no way of communicating.” you said sadly.
He looked at the water again, then pulled you.
And you froze and dug your heels in, staring at him in shock.
He looked at the water again, towards you, your entwined hands, and again towards the water, he made a noise. He sounded… urgent.Your neck began to itch worse again.
“Are you staying at one of the houses?” you said, a little desperately, even if you began to understand that probably wasn't the case.
He shook his head. He now looked at you a little sadly. Humming, his thumbs stroked your wrists where he was holding you. Like he was comforting you. The way he was staring at you, it was like he was expecting something. Waiting for something.
Your neck started to burn awfully. You tried to loosen your hands to rub the spot, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Blue, what - let go, my neck it’s -”
He let go of one of your hands, but was quick to lay it on your neck, right on the spot, it felt, it felt strange, it was burning up, but somehow his touch felt better.
Your body felt weird. And you noticed he was trying to pull you near the water.
“No, I can't,” you told him, feeling no control over your body as he dragged you further in. Your eyes drawn to the water, fear rushing through you, your mom’s face, the cold dark water surrounding you, your heart beating, no air, there was no air.
And then he appeared in your vision, his blue eyes, so like the boy in your memories, catching yours, calm, his hands holding you, a soft embrace. You felt your feet walking with him towards the water, wanting to protest, but your mouth was silent, and your eyes couldn’t look away from him.
Dark hair, blue eyes.
His body holding yours as he dragged you through the water, cold skin, slippery tail, A wide grin, so playful, words and promises made.
Blue eyes looking back at you tenderly, lovingly, holding you against him. You could see only him. Even as the water soaked through your sandals. Even as water splashed at your calves.
’You're not like us’...’I can keep you’... ‘find you’
Your body followed him in, he was smiling brightly, his eyes sparkling, but he didn’t let you go. He was guiding you, so gently. It was like your fear was there but numbed, in the background. Like the most important thing was to be close and not let go. You didn’t.
Water was around your waist, the waves moving your body back and forth, swaying in the current of the water, but he did not let you go, he did not pull away. He kissed you.
His soft lips felt like an explosion on yours. It felt like you were fading until all that was left was him. The way he felt. And the way he made you feel.
You made a noise. You felt weird.
Water splashing on you as he whipped his tail at you, laughter sounding through the air as you splashed back. His face disappearing underwater to speak to you.
Water reached his chest and you were already not feeling the bottom under your feet anymore. You let him pull you. He seemed happy. He kissed you and his tail sweeped against your legs and - …Tail? you looked down and saw the colorful glimmer of his tail, not legs, underwater. Before it would settle in, you felt a burst inside, a sharp painful burst, and you fell down. The power of it made him let go and you went under.
But his arms were around you immediately. You worried you would see darkness, but you could still see the light above you, the sun shining through the water. You could see him very clearly, his face so close to you as he helped you get steady against the movement of water. You expected to choke, but it felt like your lungs were just fine.
“What-” you said, and realized sound came out of your throat, water came in your mouth but disappeared and yet it did not feel like you ran out of air.
He smiled so happily, his eyes shining to you in delight.
“It’s okay. I got you.”
You looked around, water was surrounding you everywhere, there was seaweed twirling around you, the occasional crab you could see floating around. It looked like you could see a lot further than you expected down underwater.
You glanced down his body, noticing the tail, and momentarily were distracted by the beauty of it, before another movement distracted you. As you saw your own tail.
A shock went through you and you wanted to flinch away, but he wouldn’t let you. Your hands touched yourself. Slimy softness greeted you where your legs were supposed to be.
This wasn't real, was it?
"Bucky."
You looked up, confused.
“Bucky. My name. I couldn’t give it to you until now.” he grinned.
“Bucky?” you tested it out.
He seemed pleased with hearing it, and nodded. “Yes, I can't speak up there. I couldn’t tell you anything, only if you were in the water.”
You felt like you should panic, and there was confusion, and there was fear, but it all felt so….farther away. “What happened? I don't get it.”
“You had to turn.” He shrugged. “You didn’t want to go into the water the other day, but I knew you couldn’t stay here long. After we mated, I knew it would only take a few days before you turned. And I couldn't let you turn on land.”
That’s why he dragged you while you were so afraid, why he didn’t listen.
“But how can that happen, I'm not..this!”
“I marked you,” he explained in a tone like you should’ve known. ” When I saved you. You let me, remember?”
Blue eyes, dark hair….Bucky.
“You didn’t really think it was a dream, did you? Why else do you think we were drawn to each other? You’re mine.” For a moment his expression darkened. “Why didn’t you come to me? You said you would? I waited every day, and you didn’t come until a few years ago,and you never went into the water.”
Like you had disappointed him, failed him. Broke your promise. Which you did. It was a promise that shouldn’t have to be kept, you were children after all, but it became clear he had kept it. He had expected you to keep it. And it occured to you that rules, human rules, might not apply here.
“My parents were very afraid after what happened. They didn’t go anywhere near the sea for ages. Only after…when I moved out, I started coming here. Like I couldn't stay away.”
He seemed a little more pleased. “You were looking for me.”
“I-” ‘no’ you wanted to say. But weren't you always looking. Looking for something. Someone. Didn’t you feel you were missing something. “I couldn't get into the water.”
You tried to explain. You didn’t know why you felt the need to make him not angry or hurt by you. It hadn’t been your fault, but the way he acted was like you hurt him a great deal.
“So I came to you.” He moved closer and held your hand.
“Can I go back?”
“No.” He seemed happy with the idea. “ We don't go on land unless we have to. To kill, or to mate. And it takes years of practice. You have to be strong enough, and learn how. It took me all this time. But I knew I had to. I knew you were here.”
“You should have asked.” you said. Thinking of your friends, your family. If you couldn't go back, how worried they would be. How they would suffer.
“Why? You promised yourself to me. I saved you, I didn’t need to ask, I could have let you drown, or killed you. I didn’t. I own your life. And you said we were friends.” he shrugged.
Warmth pinched your eyes, but as soon as the tear appeared it had vanished in the cold silty water.
“Friends don’t hurt each other.”
“But I didn't." He sounded confused. “I would never hurt you. You belong with me. And now we don’t ever have to part. We live very long. You don’t have to worry about dying. And you don’t have to worry about the water anymore either. You are strong enough to go where you please. I could show you so many things. You don't need to deny yourself any longer. Let go, embrace me.”
He echoed the words you said to him, when you told him about your shared history. How you yearned to embrace your longing. How you wanted to be near the water. Had it simply been the sea that called out to you?
A fish curiously swam nearby, and you suddenly were reminded with the empty freezer, the frozen seafood he devoured…how you only seemed to like fish the most growing up. The bite he had given you. Your urge for the sea, even if you never dared to near it or touch it.
How Bucky had waited for you to show up and play with him, and how you had, unwillingly, broken that promise.
How he talked about owning your life because he had saved it, and how you could have a tail if only you did what he said.
Your tail was pretty, even if you thought his was better, but it wasn’t your legs and it felt strange seeing it swing back and forth, feeling like you could push upwards if you tried, wondering if you could keep up with him if you swam. Wondered how cold and dark the sea would get the further you would drift.
You looked backwards where you thought the beach would be, but, being underwater, all there was was water.
His finger turned your face towards him again. “I love you.”
You blinked, he put your hand on his heart, and the familiarity hit you like a warm glow, he had been telling you all along.
And he laid his hand on your heart, staring into your eyes intensely.
You felt the words leave your mouth without thinking about it. “And I love you.”
And you knew you did. Despite everything. You had been looking for him. You had been looking for love.
#Bucky Barnes x reader#Mermaid au#Merman!Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes x female reader#Fanfiction#Sebastian Stan fanfiction#mermay#Pulling Against The Stream#Bucky Barnes
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiiiii ! I love your writing :) I was wondering if I could request a echo x reader where it’s sorta like long distance so they only saw each other when they came to pabu or the finale, and if you could make it a hug scene like the ones he shared with omega (like the whole running and jumping blah blah blah) sorry if it’s extensive, thank you ! 🫶
[Echo x gn!reader]: Come back to you
----
----
Summary:
Emerie and Echo left Pabu a few weeks after the events on Tantiss. You haven't heard from him ever since and you hope he comes back.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: TBB S3 FINALE SPOILERS, fluff, kissing, a bit suggestive, a bit of angst. Not proofread.
Enjoy!
----
Since the attack on the beautiful island you settled in, you didn't hear anything else from Echo. Pabu had always managed to rebuild itself, adapt and go back to living normally.
Before the Empire found the small island, you and Echo had been in touch for a while, either from commlink calls or messages. After the events that made Tantiss burn to ashes, Echo came back. But, only for a short time. He left with the doctor, Emerie Karr, to try find safe homes for the remaining clones.
It made you angry, yes. But then again, it was Echo. He'd do anything for his brothers.
----
It had been a few weeks since clouds showed up in Pabu and released the water inside of them. Maybe it was the weight of the Empire on the Universe that made the rain stronger, and the mood seemed to be less...heavy.
You were standing inside your shared apartment, looking at the droplets of water falling. It had always brought a sense of comfort to you.
You had asked Hunter several times if he had any news, to which he'd always shake his head. It made you even more depressed.
If it weren't for the rest of the Batch, you'd be alone. Wrecker always forced you to go out, since he knew you wouldn't do it on your own unless it had to do with news about the rebellion, Rex, or your boyfriend.
You sighed. You truly missed him.
Suddenly, your commlink beeped, and got up. You grabbed your comm, and nervously spoke up. It wasn't the commlink that you and the Bad Batch used, it was a private 'channel' you had with Echo.
"Echo?" You whispered, nervously.
You heard a small hum and chuckle.
"Hey."
Adrenaline shot through your veins at the sound of his voice.
"Wh- What? How? Where are you? Are you okay?" You asked, a thousand questions running through your head.
Though you could only hear his voice, a wave of relief washed your body.
"Yeah, I'm alright. I'm currently in Coruscant, in Rex's Underground level base. We're trying to collect all the remaining stuff before he leaves. I'm helping him out." He explained.
You sighed in relief.
"I'm so happy to hear your voice. Why haven't you said anything for the past three week until now?" You asked.
"I've been very busy. We're still trying to find out anything about the nameless clones. I haven't been...that close to my commlink, either." He said, mumbling the last part.
"It's...fine." You replied.
Echo seemed to pick up your tiredness and your sadness, maybe disappointment even, in your voice.
"How... about you? Are you doing alright?" He softly asked.
"Yeah, I just really miss you." You answered, with a small sigh.
Echo let out a small chuckle.
"I miss you too."
You considered telling about how you felt.
"I'm actually not doing great. It's been a rough few weeks and I really needed you but I'm not sure you were free and I didn't want to bother you and-" You stopped, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.
"I just wish you were here."
Silence came over the comm channel, before Echo finally spoke up.
"I'm coming over." He suddenly said.
Your eyes widened.
"Wha- no! You can't. You're a thousand clicks away-" he cut you off.
"I'm coming over. That's final, okay?"
You sighed. Your boyfriend was stubborn.
"Okay. I'll wait for you." You replied, before he left the comm channel.
...
A few hours later, the dark night sunk into Pabu. Not that it was super visible, as the clouded skies still let the rain fall.
It was endearing to see how much Echo cared for you, even though he was busy most of the time.
You decided to get dressed, and wait for him on the side of the landing platform, below a huge tree root that provided you shelter from the pouring rain.
Your heart sped up, and your knees slightly trembled at the sight of a ship, most likely Echo's, approaching the landing platform.
The big shuttle eventually landed on the island, and you took a step forward. The rain didn't matter anymore, not even when it was soaking your clothes and body.
The ramp lowered, and butterflies filled your stomach, taking your breath away.
And there he was, the guy that had stolen your hard the second you saw him walking inside your coffee shop all those months ago; the man that had swore to you loyalty, even if your relationship was distant; your boyfriend. Echo.
He came down the ramp. Just when his feet touched the ground, you ran towards him and hugged him.
Echo hugged back, burying his nose on your neck.
"Hey." He said.
You smiled.
"Hey."
You two stayed there for a long time, not caring about the rain, not caring about anything at all. What mattered was that Echo was there. Your Echo. He was real. It wasn't a dream.
"I missed you so much." You mumbled, bringing your lips close to his.
"I missed you too." He answered, finally pulling you into the kiss you were desperately yearning for for a long time now.
You kissed back, bringing your hands to his hips, as his hand rested on your cheek.
However, his hand lowered to your butt, giving it a light squeeze: enough to make you squeak and let his tongue explore your mouth.
It had been such a long time since you felt him so close to you it almost felt like a dream.
He pulled away.
"We better go home, seems like rain won't be stopping for a while." He suggested smiling.
You nodded.
"Let's go."
Echo had finally come back home.
----
🗣️❗🎵 PARTY WALKERS IN THE YAAARD TONIIIIGHT🎵❗🗣️ (iykyk)
Currently have that cover from sbg in my head
(I am currently in my last two weeks of final exams so requests might take a while)
(Reblogs are highly appreciated <3)
#the bad batch#star wars#bad batch#the bad batch x reader#star wars tbb#tbb#echo bad batch#the bad batch echo#echo tbb x reader#tbb echo x reader#tbb echo
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I watched Furiosa
Furiosa Road: a Star Wars Story. It wasn't likely to live up to Fury Road, and it didn't. It would have been a tall order.
While it was well worth paying to see in theaters, I was still a little disappointed; I'm going to explain why, without spoilers, and then after a very visible cut I'll comment on a few specific things in the movie.
First of all it felt long, but not two hours long so I guess it speaks to its quality. Going through the cast, everyone did a good job, although I wasn't blown away by the on screen chemistry of Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke. More on that later. Chris Hemsworth as the overarching antagonist is this movie's standout performance, in a way that I'm somewhat conflicted about. More on that later too.
Overall it feels as if, after making Fury Road a trim and thrilling movie, the creatives behind it strung together all the piles of amazing ideas they had left on the cutting room floor into another complete movie, but not a very cohesive story with a beginning middle and end with enough connective tissue to captivate an audience.
There's no shortage of props, costumes, characters, stunts and just straight up visuals, although the music is not up to the standards set by Fury Road. What's really missing is a tight knit script.
I'd say watch it if you like the franchise, otherwise I'd just wait for it to release on small screens.
My biggest complaint with this movie is that it's split between two relationships, between Hemsworth as Dementus or Tom Burke as Jack with Furiosa, when really with how it's paced it could barely afford one. I am just completely confused by people saying Jack and Furiosa's relationship was the highlight of the movie, it was vague, bland, and Jack died before I could really care about him. All this relationship did was explain how Furiosa became so good at driving a war rig, despite the fact that by this point in the movie she'd fended for herself just fine, presumably using what she'd been taught by the vuvuzela tribe.
Likewise Dementus as a character is extremely simple, in a good way, and is the a better representation of time passing in the movie than literal text onscreen telling you it's been fifteen years or some such. It's on the nose, but Chris Hemsworth is acting his heart out and it's always a joy to see him on screen. He's spiraling his way through the movie in a perfect exemple of what Furiosa must avoid becoming.
So knowing that, the main plot should be about Furiosa having to lose her way home (the star map tattoo on her arm, which we know she lose by Fury Road) and choose to stay at the Citadel to kill him, setting up a bitter ending where she's gained nothing and is stuck killing more people instead of letting go of revenge and going home. Unfortunately Furiosa: the video game: the movie very much lives in the shadow of its 2015 sequel, and so the plot is split further to set that up. I've talked about how it hurts the pacing and how much screentime the other characters could have gotten, but I think it actually greatly diminished the ending.
The end of Furiosa has her catch up to Dementus, bind him and beat him up, asking him to give her her childhood and mother back, only for Dementus to refuse to play along in anyway. He tells her that revenge achieves nothing, that he knows from personal experience and that she can kill him however she wants, that he doesn't particularly care. I don't do it justice it's a pretty good end to his arc this movie.
Instead of Furiosa killing him there and then and validating that speech for a cohesive theme to the movie (keeping the hope stuff for Fury Road where it works), the history man voiceover tells us that although the true end of Dementus is disputed, Furiosa told him the truth, that she kept him alive with a peach tree growing out of his dick ?? And then she brings the peach to Immortan's wives in the Citadel, and then the credits are interspersed with shots from Fury Road.
I can excuse the impossibility of keeping someone alive while a tree is growing on them for the sake of Mad Max movies very much being wasteland fairy tales, but I think directly linking Furiosa: Road One with Fury Road like that is both pointless and very hamfisted, on top of being a big disappointment when it comes to Dementus' character. Like the guy was clearly fucked up from losing his daughters just kill him and be done with it.
Anyway yeah I don't think I'll rewatch this movie nearly as often as I rewatch Fury Road. Shoutout to the Octoboss though, he's the Most Valuable Sidecharacter of this movie.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
maybe i need meds???
#knocks on skull like GOD CAN YOU JUST FUCKING EMOTIONALLY REGULATE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD#been swinging wildly between 'i need help' & 'im faking it' every single HOUR#the thing is. and this is the thing. my life right now is as close to perfect as i'll ever get there is literally nothing wrong#im MEANT to be HAPPY why am i UNSTABLE#im thinking meds maybe but also it's just such a pain#to book a drs appt to get put on a mental health plan to be put on a waiting list for a shrink then convince said shrink that I need meds#sounds painful#don't think I can do it...#but. ive booked a drs appt so baby steps.#but see like I booked it on wed bc I was very much going to have a breakdown at my desk then immediately felt silly on thurs morning bc#I felt fine??? then hours later I was like no. not fine actually#im going to fucking chuck#hex.txt#personal#personal posts are only on this blog bc u guys are more used to hearing me blabber bullshit than my main#does anyone wanna tell me some good news or something nice happening in their life
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
me every day: yes, I understand that I have ptsd. yes, it will frequently disrupt my life in sometimes (seemingly) random ways. sometimes this will necessitate leaving work or disclosing things about myself to a supervisor or friend or bystander because it's freaking them out and THEY are now panicking and often wanting to call me an ambulance. this is just a fact. it's fine. i'm dealing with it. most years are easier than the ones before them. it's fine.
me when my ptsd is actually triggered: what is happening right now. why can't I breathe. why can't I stand up. why do I feel like I'm about to throw up and die. oh, I know!!! I must be having an allergic reaction to something!!!! I'm suddenly coming down with the flu in the span of 3 minutes!!! this is so weird!!!!!!!
#EDIT: talk of PTSD proceed with caution#it's morphed a little over the years lololol#used to present as very obvious and unmistakable panic attacks with crying and hyperventilating#10 years later and it's quieter. 70% of the time the whole world just shrinks to a 1 foot bubble around me and everything goes dark#at least i didn't actually throw up this time around#and i was able to pinpoint the trigger about 2 hours in#once i was able to think again#and it was a song. 30 seconds of a song.#noticed right away that something felt wrong so i hit stop#but it was too late lmao within 5 minutes it was hard to breathe and the room was spinning and within 10 i crawled upstairs and passed out#but yeah like in the moment i often don't understand what's happening#i don't realize until I've passed out and woken up again#i had to lay down on the floor in the backroom of my retail job once and it scared the shit out of everyone#i usually stay somewhat lucid but i rarely realize I'm reacting to a trigger until after I've recovered#which means then I'm laying on a floor woozily insisting I'm fine#and then have the SUPER FUN TIME of having to explain everything after the fact once my brain and body are working again#I have a few long time coworkers who realize I've been triggered before I do lmao#They're like. Bro. You need to sit down. Right fucking now or you're gonna fall#rray.txt
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
So me and my friend unpacked that night terror I had the other night & basically I am now on a self-imposed horror ban because I genuinely think if I keep consuming horror with my current mental state I will have a full-blown psychotic break 😔✌🏻
#for the uninitiated: basically i dreamed of an entity that was ‘the personification of fear itself’ and it was standing in the corner of my#room heavy-breathing and looking at me. it followed me through 3 layers of sleep (dream within a dream; regular dream; WAKING -#i hallucinated it during a sleep paralysis incident)#and i was unpacking it with my friend and i was like ‘i think the reason i was able to fall asleep again so fast (within 10 minutes lol)#and the thought of it hasn’t really bothered me when i’ve tried to sleep since is that it felt like more of a warning than a threat#like it kept getting worse each time i saw it but obviously i was fine. like it never tried to harm me. it just stood there’#and she was like ‘so do you believe in symbolism in dreams?’ i said ‘i don’t believe in prophetic dreams and i don’t believe that dreams#always have meaning. what i believe is that when the conscious mind shuts off for sleep; the subconscious starts unpacking stuff completely#at random and starts working through it. i think it’s a complete roulette. i think the best example of that is the time i had a dream that#one of my teachers was selling teddy bear ties just because he wore a tie with teddy bears on it once. i had that dream about a week later.#i was not in any way preoccupied with his tie; i saw it once and that was it but my brain obviously decided to use it’#so she was like ‘so you think that you dreaming about an entity that was the personification of fear itself is completely random?’#i was like ‘oh no not really. that makes perfect sense to me. all the movies i’ve watched and books i’ve read and podcasts i’ve listened to#have been horror’ and she was like ‘and you think that’s healthy for you?’ ‘oh no not really. plenty of it scares me. i even got scared the#other day listening to true crime; which doesn’t usually happen to me but i guess the 4 hour serial killer documentary wore me down’#she’s just like ‘for god’s sake’ lol#so i’m like ‘i mean if i interpret it your way; about dreams having meanings and messages; i guess i’m being warned that i’m dwelling too#much on fear. i’m inviting it into my space deliberately. it’s the main emotion i’m experiencing from the media i consume. and i don’t know#that that’s necessarily… good?’ and she’s like ‘no i don’t think it is. maybe you should read a sci-fi or something or rewatch that reality#show you like?’ and i was like ‘that actually seems like a good idea’#so. no more horror for me for the foreseeable :( i just want to get through the seasonal depression. and get my grief for mabel down to a#manageable level. i mean it’s somewhat manageable now but i still feel sad and guilty all the time and cry randomly#i’m thinking about signing up to be a dog fosterer for the rspca. i mean i work from home; i have an enclosed garden & plenty of time#and i could use the companionship. i just don’t know that i can take on a multi-year commitment right now#personal
1 note
·
View note
Text
Nothing more comfortable than lying in bed with the worst cramps in 3 years while your dog is taking a nap using your arm as a pillow (:
#oh well#actually before she used my throat as a pillow since i was lying on my back and she on my chest#at the point i was able to turn to my side again the painkillers started working a little better#sorry#I'm 'high' on painkillers#nearly passed out twice and felt like throwing up for about 2 hours#but now it's fine lol#probably will delete later#but#look at this dog just sleeping like this (for over 30 minutes) while i feel like death is approaching#maximum comfort vs absolute misery#shut up amy
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
SUCH a ‘do everything you can in certain areas of your life, so you can at least feel like you have something resembling control over it’ girlie x
#going away in 11 days so i’m preparing and getting ready#i need to make a list of stuff to pack#i need to decide what clothes i’m gonna take to wear#i need to control things to avoid the anxiety#or at least try to ease it#idk i’m always nervous something will go wrong lately so i’m trying to prepare for the easy stuff and the stuff i can control#gonna try to figure out my nausea and how to deal with sitting in a car for hours#i just need to get ready™️#gonna try to swim for the first time in years#especially since i became disabled and i’m wondering how that’s gonna work#but idk i’ll try#gonna work out going out in public with my walker some more#gonna go on the beach!!#for the first time in years!!!#if i think about it too hard i feel like crying#i have sooo much nervous energy#i’m both excited and scared#trying to convince myself it will all be fine#and i can still live my life#bc recently i’ve felt like i don’t have one and that i can’t get it back#mania my beloathed#idk maybe stay tuned over the next couple weeks as i post anxious bullshit in the lead up and then maybe cool shit when i actually go#i say 11 days it’s actually more bc i’m joining everyone out there later but still#it’s not long now#gwen rambles#gwenposting
0 notes
Text
FRESHERS FAIR WAS SOMETHING.
#so yes it was 5 hours standing (no chairs) trying to sell people on a weird club#(hard)#I forgot my water bottle so I was DYING the whole time#and yes it was with the guy I kinda have a crush on but we did not do much talking.#I tried. I TRIED but conversations didn’t really go anywhere and I was also trying probably way too hard to sell people on the club#I mean i did a fucking amazing job the things addressing people directly with a smile as they walk past will do is insane#maybe I AM charismatic actually#but man. tonight is gonna be insane.#I wish I’d got to talk to Guy more but he also didn’t like. ask me anything I think he might’ve been tired and hungry and feet hurty#little bit overwhelmed#I also did a lot of the talking to people and I don’t know if that was better or worse for him. better for the club bc I Was better at it#but idk if he felt sidelined bc he was also standing there for 5 hours#it wasn’t like he did nothing but a lot of the like talking past the initial hi join us was me#which makes SENSE bc I run the club and he’s smaller lower commitment role but idk. I might’ve fucked up a little there.#not a huge deal but he definitely wasn’t having a great time#kinda a shame altogether but it’s fine I’ll see him later and we might be able to actually talk without the weird pressure environment#luke.txt
0 notes
Text
Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.”
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said.
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this.
You shook your head.
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long.
“Was it something I said?” he prodded.
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them.
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—”
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly.
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased.
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money.
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid.
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone.
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted.
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then —
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.”
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better.
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around.
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?”
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?”
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits.
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more.
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter.
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily.
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.
“Good?” he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame.
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”
Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.
“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”
Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.
“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”
Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.
“Um… for the aesthetic?”
Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.
“You- you can’t stop me!”
And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.
He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.
He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.
Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.
“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”
Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.
“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.
“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”
“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.
“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”
“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”
“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.
“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”
“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”
Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.
He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.
“There!”
Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.
Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.
“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.
Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”
Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.
——
Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.
Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).
Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.
“B, I wanna go home.”
“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.
Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.
Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.
——
Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.
He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.
——
Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water
Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*
——
Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity
Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:
——
Dick as Robin: *cackles*
Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*
Gotham Criminals: *fear*
#danny phantom#bamf danny phantom#dick grayson#tim drake is a menace#tim drake#baby tim drake#Tim Drake is a little shit#Danny Phantom is a little shit#they’re messing with the bats#and getting away with it#inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle#that creepy lil shit#i love them your honor#they’re brothers your honor#Gotham’s F grade tap water#thanks scarecrow#Gotham’s tap water#dc x dp#dp x dc
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
________________
“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide.
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans.
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained.
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested.
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.”
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped.
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say.
“Strip Poker!”
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said.
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely.
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you.
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched.
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded.
A five. Fuck.
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost.
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards.
“Blackjack, baby!”
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered.
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him.
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully.
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment.
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment.
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey.
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly.
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully.
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed.
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.
#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#mgg fluff#mgg x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
if i had polls id be making a "guess who fell on the stairs today" and the answers would be "me" "both of us (sorry)" one to announce that i did in fact slip on the stairs and managed to catch myself before going more steps down but still fell in there
#my posts#hi hello its the first time in like 10 years this happened!#every time i feel down the stairs i never fall from all the way up and its never more than a few steps thankfully but#yeah lmao#my flip flops dont have grip on the floor anymore and ive been testing my luck#but i think im fine at least for now? 5/6 times ive sprained something i felt it instantly#actually no 5/5 the other one was a broken elbow#but not broken broken more like a tiny crack but enough to not let me move and i only felt it hours later#but i dont think i broke anything so!
0 notes
Text
Does anyone else just like… not give a fuck if they’re chopping vegetables evenly
#not gonna lie this onion was a bad one. my eyes were hurting so bad i actually felt lightheaded; and that was BEHIND my sunglasses#i could barely see. i was just putting the knife down like ‘is this right?’#i couldn’t remember if the recipe called for a diced or sliced onion so i was sort of doing both and it was an actual shitshow#settled on dicing then realised the recipe called for a ‘thinly sliced’ onion. pain#y’know what. fuck it. i’m cooking for myself; not gordon ramsay#but seriously i have knife skills so bad they can’t even be comprehended by the common man#i hear so many people say ‘oh i’m a bad cook’ but have you ever had someone watch you cook; say ‘no no no’ and physically take a knife#out of your hand? while you were chopping CARROTS no less#i do have the bluntest knife in christendom so that can’t possibly help#i’ve also just discovered that i was supposed to sprinkle paprika over my potato wedges AND i’m supposed to grate some cheese#but the wedges are already in the oven and grating cheese sounds exhausting to me#i’ve got a cheese grater with two different surfaces but one of them is so thin you can’t get cheese through it#and the other is so thick that it lets giant crumbs of cheese fall through#so i might just fully eat a block of cheese later this evening. i can have it on oat cakes and pretend it’s healthy. it’s fine#the thing about it all is. i have class in an hour and a half and this recipe is honestly way too intensive for me to handle in my current#state of mind; but if i don’t cook the pork today it is GOING to go off and then i’ll just be annoyed#so i have to eat this. i fucking hope it’s good#the other loaded wedges recipe i tried was honestly not all that. but i realised i made the sauce wrong so that was probably why#this one doesn’t really have an intensive process… i just kind of throw everything in the pan and then toss in garlic and wet components#and when i eat the leftovers tomorrow i can obviously add mayo or sour cream or sriracha or whatever seems to be the vibe#it’s FINE. i’ll be fine. just wish i’d made this yesterday so i could have the leftovers today lol#but if it had reheated badly i’d be sooo annoyed. so there is that#personal
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
multiiocular-mushroom
here there be artz
de4dpegasus
Untitled
hobotalesaus
HOBO TALES
haeler
justice / vengeance !
diaperloveraustria
Diaper Lover Austria