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americasass91 · 3 years

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His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

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You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good. You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @IIIoIs

#chris evans #chris evans smut #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber #Cici91 writes

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woodrokiro · 3 years

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Do It For the Band, Part Six (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant. Band AU. Read Part One, Two, Three, Four, and Five.

Tatsuki never thought she’d live to see the day that she has to drag herself to jam with her friends.

Sure, she’s been pretty hung over on some of her work days; but she was always, always able to pull herself out of bed, pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her way to make a racket. It made no sense how she could still be giddy to beat some loud drums when she had a throbbing headache - but.

She loved it. She loved her band.

She still does… But she hates Ichigo right now.

Ichigo, who’s being a real insensitive dick. Ichigo, who went on a date with Orihime, aka her-best-friend-aka-longtime-love-of-her-life-maybe-who-knows-she-never-got-a-chance-to-find-out-cuz-of-her-dickwad-friend.

Ichigo, who is doing this as some stupid fucking vendetta against Rukia, or to forget her, or whatever the fact is being a dumbass and everyone is having to pay for it.

Needless to say: she’s worked herself up to a pretty furious state by the time she rages to practice.

She stomps over to Chad’s garage, viciously lifting the the heavy door while simultaneously (unreasonably) half expecting to be faced with the sight of Ichigo and Orihime making out -

When her eyes adjust to see into the garage, there’s none of that (thank God). They’re not even next to each other. Instead, she’s met with a very different sight.

Ichigo’s stewing in the corner, hands stuffed in his pocket and visibly grinding his teeth. Chad is sitting quietly next to him but definitely trying to blend himself into the shadows more than usual. Orihime is looking down at her hands across the room, silent and stiff.

And Rukia is plugging her phone into their speaker jack rather manically.

“Ah, good afternoon Tatsuki!” Rukia greets the drummer with a too-large, sparkling smile that she recognizes as Rukia’s favorite mask to put on when she’s pissed. The vocalist has noticeable bags under her eyes from… Lack of sleep? Crying? Who knows. Her heart cracks for her.

The pity doesn’t last long when Rukia continues, sickly-sweet. “Since Ichigo was so kind to tell us we should start working on new stuff - “

“Woah woah woah, I didn’t tell you - ”

“My mistake!” Rukia sends Ichigo a somehow-withering smile that could kill. “You’re so right, we all agreed. In any case, I decided to start sooner rather than later. I recorded a quick version by myself last night at - oh, I don’t know, two A.M. - and sent it to Urahara by five.”

Ichigo’s foot starts tapping as he leans forward, arms crossed. “You sent something to Urahara without showing us first?”

“He said he liked it, but to get it passed through you guys. Of course I agreed, so… Here we are.” Rukia’s not looking at him any further, instead sending a hard glance to Tatsuki.

The drummer knows it’s not really directed at her - more like a woman’s communication-without-words kind of thing - but she finds herself gulping anyway.

Here we are indeed.

Oh you got stars in your eyes, baby

If you think this will work

I won’t follow your galaxies

Won’t fall for that fucking smirk.

When will you realize the stars were never yours?

Never at any time, never at any time.

The song has turned to pure obliteration by the end. Rukia’s voice intentionally fades out at the finish, but not without absolute raw emotion, pure fury that leaves goosebumps on Tatsuki’s skin.

Rukia stands in the middle of the garage, hands on her hips, looking proud and dangerous and fiery as she stares straight back at Ichigo’s stone-faced glare.

Good for her, Tatsuki thinks before remembering: wait. She shouldn’t be rooting for this.

This is the beginning of a war.

As if on cue, Ichigo clears his throat, raising his chin to match Rukia’s arrogance.

“Great work, Kuchiki. Way better than anything you’ve done so far, I’d say.”

Rukia’s nostrils flare. “Is that a comment on my previous work?”

“Not at all. Just… Inspires me to step up my game. In fact…” Ichigo stands up, dusting off his pants. “Is it cool with you all if I cut out early? Think I have some writing to do too, alone.”

“Absolutely not, Ichigo.” Tatsuki is shaken out of watching the trainwreck that’s her life. “Chad, Orihime and I did not come here for you to cut out without even practicing - “

“No, I think it’s fine, Tatsuki.” Rukia’s eyes glint with a challenge. “We can practice… Without Ichigo.”

An excruciating silence follows. Tatsuki can practically hear Ichigo’s teeth crack beneath his grinding.

“... I can wait to write.” He roughly grabs his guitar, quickly getting to work on tuning it. “Teamwork is important. We’re nakama, after all.”

Something about the pointed word visibly causes the keyboardist to flush, but she starts to unplug her phone from the speaker jack anyway.

The next hour of practice may just be the most painful hour in Tatsuki’s life.

She thought she might have an idea of what happened between Ichigo and Rukia from Rukia’s song Celestial Lies - okay, so Ichigo broke a promise? - but seeing what kind of songs follow after that practice from both of them leaves it all… A little muddled.

The next day, Ichigo sends the group chat audio of a break up song.

Eyes softly gazed

Heart breaking stare

Who knew you’d crush me

Lying is your best jewelry you wear.

Everyone hits a wary thumbs up reaction except Rukia, who hours later only replies: Did Urahara approve of this one?

Yes. Ichigo sends back at a neck-breaking speed…

Followed by a :).

A few days later, Rukia sends another audio.

It only took you ten days to realize

I wasn’t good enough, but no one’s ever good enough

No one’s ever nice enough,

No one’s ever fucked you enough

Called your bluff enough

Said your name like a God enough.

Now Ichigo’s response is a weird song about a siren with lavender eyes feasting on a golden-haired sailor’s skull, and Tatsuki didn’t know what to think happened but frankly? She doesn’t care.

She calls Urahara immediately.

“You know what this is gonna do to us, right?!” She shouts into the phone. “This isn’t doing anything but hurting the band, letting them go at it like this!”

Urahara - to his credit - listens patiently from the other end as she explodes. He has the decency to voice his sympathies, that it must be really tough working in a group with… So many opinions.

“These aren’t opinions. These. Are. Fatalities.” She grits out.

“I understand, Tatsuki-san, but…” She can nearly hear their manager shrug. “This is… How good music is made. I hate what it’s doing to your nerves, but you have to understand that this is how I get you guys out there.”

“At the expense of our friendship? What kind of manager are you -”

“A good one.” His voice drops low, suddenly serious in a way she’s never heard before. “What would you have me do, Tatsuki-san? Tell everyone to stop writing mean songs? Have them hug it out? You know that does nothing for any of us.”

“That’s not what I’m... “

“Tatsuki.” His voice lifts, a bit gentler. “This is what you all wanted, what you’re working hard for. Whether or not they get through this… Nobody can say. But that’s not gonna change whether or not they stop writing these stellar pieces. You know how good they are. So… I hate to tell you, but you’re gonna have to suck it up. Enjoy it while it lasts. It might make your career.”

She hangs up immediately, knowing he won’t be offended.

He knows that she knows he’s right.

Almost like a God-sent gift for Tatsuki’s suffering, Orihime breaks it off with Ichigo after only a few weeks.

The relationship ends - quite spectacularly - in disaster after a couple of dates… Just as Tatsuki thought it would, but hey. She’s not going to gloat about it, only promises whatever deity is responsible a huge offering the next time she happens upon a shrine.

She hears all about it from Orihime, of course - she’s way too pissed at Ichigo to speak to him about anything besides business - who tells her they got a couple of drinks, dinner a few times.

“It’s a very nice time! But he’s not… It’s…” She sighs forlornly and it makes Tatsuki hurt for her.

“He hasn’t made any moves, huh.”

The stage manager shakes her head, suddenly grabbing her water to keep the tears misting her eyes at bay.

Tatsuki wants to kill him.

“He said I looked nice. He opens the doors for me, pulls out my chair, pays for my bill. He and I have… Fun, I think. At least I do - and he’s very kind, such a gentleman -”

“It’s okay, Orihime. You can say it: he fucking sucks.”

Orihime laughs a watery laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just… This Rukia thing. It’s so… Intense, right? In practice? I should’ve known. I feel so stupid.”

“... Orihime.” The drummer puts her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Nobody could’ve known. Had I known? You’d find me on a cruise ship, drumming for some dumb cover band.”

“You make jokes like that, Tatsuki, but you’re the band’s lifeline.” Orihime shakes her head, blinking back tears. “I just… Rukia is so… Goodness, she’s lovely. And talented. And so, so kind - “

“Orihime - “

“And I’m not one to be jealous, I know I’ve only known Ichigo for about a month now so I’m really not too upset about that. But I’d - I’d love to be someone’s first choice like that. I’d love to be the person that someone wants to write songs about, that inspires someone so much. Because that anger that’s coming through their songs… That’s them caring, you know? That’s them caring so much that good or bad, they want the whole world to know, and yeah I don’t love the bad so much but I do love love and want to be cared about like that one day but I’m not as smart or talented as Rukia-chan so - “

Tatsuki interrupts her by firmly pressing her lips to Orihime’s, her hands snaking into her gorgeous auburn hair and suddenly: everything is perfect, angels are singing and if she died at this very moment she would be too blissed out to fight it.

She briefly breaks it off, nudging Orihime’s forehead with her own. “Rukia is also my friend, but don’t get it twisted. They’re both absolute shits.”

Orihime laughs, smiling softly at the drummer before she goes back in and Tatsuki thinks band drama?

Who gives a fuck.

Her new girlfriend calls her the next day to say she’s told Ichigo, and Tatsuki sighs. She was about to enjoy her morning by smoking a joint, but. Priorities, she guesses.

She arrives at Ichigo’s apartment door within the hour, banging until he opens it.

“Y’know, how you get beyond the buzzer at the building entrance is beyond me - “

Tatsuki wastes no time. “Orihime told you, yeah?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes, but a rare, small smile betrays him. “Yeah, she told me. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. You mad?”

“What? No. Of course I’m not mad.”

“Cool. ‘Cuz what the ever-loving fuck, Ichigo.”

“... Not sure what you mean.” Ichigo’s eyes turn to flint as understanding dawns on him, and he’s about to close the door when she stomps on his foot.

“Tatsuki, what the hell--”

“Don’t ever try to do that to me again. What is this all about?”

“God, we didn’t have a - Orihime and I are friends! It’s all been worked out! What do you care, you got your girl - ” He shuts his mouth at the giveaway as Tatsuki narrows her eyes.

“Is that what this is about? You didn’t get your girl so you tried to get mine?”

“No, Tatsuki. I had no idea you liked her, I would’ve never had - and what do you mean ‘my girl’?!”

She ignores the question and chooses instead to ask in reply: “Have you talked to Rukia?”

A beat.

“... We’re not discussing this, Tatsuki.”

“Like, really talked to her? ‘Cuz I know you, and a whole lot of this bullshit could’ve been avoided had you just - “

“I’m not discussing this with you Tatsuki.” He looks down at his phone, lighting up the screen to look at the time. “Look, there’s a few more hours until practice and I wanted to get in some writing - “

“Of course you do.”

“... Just do me a favor. Please? Don’t - don’t ask me to talk about that stuff. You’re my friend and you scare the shit out of me - but I’m drawing the line there. Unless it has something to do with the band - “

She’s getting pissed all over again. “Ichigo, you know it effects the band - “

“We’re professional.” He snaps, and the quick show of temper stuns Tatsuki. He’s never had the nerve to talk to her like that, ever.

She’d be impressed if it wasn’t for the circumstances.

“... Congrats again on you and Orihime. I’ll see you two at practice tonight.”

He slams the door.

“... And you can kick my ass for doing that, later!” His muffled shout sounds from the other side of the door.

Tatsuki leaves in a hell of a less good mood than when she came.

#ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #my stuff

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berkblockman · 4 years

Text

Keep going // Barry Berkman x reader x Sally Reed

Pairing: Barry Berkman x reader x Sally Reed Word count: 1901 Warnings: Smut, oral sex (female and male), unprotected sex, lenguage, open relationship Request: can you please, PLEASE write a fic where bill and the reader are doing the deed and maggie walks in and it get wEIrd, (i'm thinking some ladY cuCk shiT bAbeY) you're the mastermind and i'll let take that prompt and do whatever you want with it. love your work btw :) (a/n): This was really interesting to write, so thank you again for your request, anon! Hope it is like what you had in mind when you requested it 😄

Acting used to be more like a hobby to you when you started doing theatre in college. You though that, even though everyone was always complimenting the way you acted, you could never do it for a living. That was, of course, until you moved to LA. You didn't move there because you wanted to be a famous actress or become rich, you just wanted to have a normal life with a job and a place of your own. At least, that was your plan until you started to take Gene Coussineau's acting classes.

Seeing everyone in class being so excited and so sure that they could turn acting into their way to make a living, inspired you enough to try to become a professional actress yourself. And since you were one of the best of the class, you soon got some lead roles in the plays you made. It didn’t take long for you to play the main role in some sort of ‘romantic comedy’ set in the 2000's that Gene purposed to the class. You had always played classical plays, mainly Shakespeare and some Greco-Roman authors like Aristophanes or Plautus, so this seemed like a new challenge for you, playing something that hadn’t been written centuries ago. But what you actually found more challenging was working with the person who played your romantic interest in the play, Barry.

Working with him was difficult not because Barry was a bad actor or because he was unprofessional in any way, he had improved a lot since he first got to the class. But even if it sounded as a cliché, you couldn't help but to develop a crush on him as you worked together. It wouldn't have been such a big deal if it wasn't because he was already dating another girl from class, Sally, who also was casted as your best friend and confident in the play.

By the time the opening day arrived, you were even more nervous about what you were feeling for Barry than you actually were about the play. You tried to suck it all up and be professional, but still you couldn't help but feel those 'butterflies' in your stomach whenever you had to interact with him in and out of stage. But despite of everything the play went incredibly good, and after it was finished, an agent gave you his phone number so you could work with his agency.

After you got out of costume, you headed to the bar with the rest of the class and started to celebrate the success of the play. You tried to keep your mind clear as you talked with everyone and drank a beer or two, but you couldn’t help but to notice Barry’s presence at all times. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were dying to make a move on him, but you were also fully aware of the fact that Sally was also there. The last thing you wanted was to create unnecessary drama in the class, so you went to the bathroom to try and clear your head. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you decided that you were going to head back home before anything happened, but as you got out of the bathroom, you found Barry getting out of the toilet too.

“Hey.” You smiled at him, with the intention of saying your goodbyes and head out as soon as you could.

“Hey.” He greeted you back, and as you were about to make your way to the rest of the group so you could bid your farewells, he added. “You were amazing today.”

“Oh, thank you.” The smile on your face grew bigger. “But I was only able to do it because of you. I mean, I don’t think the play would have worked out so well if I had anyone else as my scene partner.” You could see the way that he blushed as he heard your words, making you think that he looked extremely cute.

“Really?” He asked, almost as if he wasn’t able to believe your words.

“Yeah, I was kind of nervous because I had never done something like that before, but working with you has been awesome.” As you talked, you could feel the way your heart was beating in your chest. “You have been the best love interest ever.”

You looked at Barry straight in the eye as your only thoughts were about how good he looked and, before he could even reply to you, you lent in to kiss him. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you mentally hit yourself. Now everything would be awkward between you and him, and if he told his girlfriend, you would probably need to find a new theatre group. But, surprisingly, Barry didn’t pull back or stopped you, he just kissed you back. And the feeling of his lips against yours after weeks of building sexual tension was all you needed to forget everything you had ever heard about morality and loyalty.

When you started to feel that familiar heat in between your legs, you grabbed Barry’s hand and guided him into the women’s bathroom to try and get some privacy. As soon as you both got in, Barry started kissing you again, his hands running all over your body. You could feel yourself already trembling with anticipation as he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his already growing erection against your belly as he sat you on the sink and started to kiss your neck, sending you goosebumps all over your body and getting you incredibly wet. But that was nothing compared to when his hand traveled from the back of your neck to your core and started rubbing his fingers against your clitoris. By that moment, you were already a moaning mess, so you had to bit your lower lip in order to keep yourself quiet, hoping no one would hear you outside.

You were unbuttoning his shirt when suddenly you heard how someone opened the door. You immediately pulled back and looked in their direction just to find Sally standing on the door. In that moment, you cursed yourself for doing exactly what you had promised yourself you wouldn’t do and fuck it all up. You stood there, nervous, waiting for Sally’s reaction. Honestly, you were expecting her to scream at you, to call you a whore, and it wouldn’t have surprised you if she walked to you and slapped you in the face. But you wouldn’t have expected that she closed the door behind her and stood there, looking at you.

“Don’t mind me.” She simply said. “Keep going.”

As if nothing had happened, Barry knelt in front of you and undid the zipper of your jeans, taking them off alongside your underwear. You couldn’t help but to feel Sally’s stare on you when Barry started to eat you out, forcing a moan out of you. His tongue was making circular motions around your clit, making your body shiver, but you were still looking at her, wondering what was going on. Was this some kind of a wet dream? It felt way too real. But if it was actually happening, why was Sally standing there without doing nothing?

Your breathing was getting heavier and heavier by moments, and when he entered a finger on you, you decided to stop holding back and start moving your hips slightly, feeling insanely aroused. Strangely, Sally watching the two of you made everything hotter, and you supposed she also felt that way when she slipped one hand under her clothes and started touching herself.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” You managed to say between moanings, which made Barry fasten the pace of his movements, making you reach your first orgasm.

Trying to catch your breathe and with every inch of your body still shaking, you kissed Barry again when he stood up, your attention still focused on Sally. You slit a hand under his pants and started caressing his already hard cock, gaining a few silent moans from him as you got down from where you were sitting and on your knees. Licking the tip of his dick first, you started to blow him as you heard Sally groaning. You didn’t remember being as wet as you were in that moment, but you were definitely loving it. Barry pulled your hair back as he watched the way you took him in. He knew he wouldn’t last long if you kept playing with your tongue around him that way. You took him out of your mouth and looked at Sally, who seemed extremely close to her climax. Giving one last look at Barry, you grabbed his hand and the two of you walked to her.

Her eyes were on you as you got closer to her and kissed her. She could feel the taste of his boyfriend’s precum on your mouth and it turned her on even more. You got rid of her clothes as you placed your mouth on her core, sucking carefully on her clit. You tried to be careful, fearing that you would hurt her, knowing yourself how sensible that spot was. As your tongue moved around her folds, you suddenly felt Barry enter you, making you moan against Sally. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before pounding into you, causing you to feel the pleasure building up inside of you once more.

Just as Barry had done minutes earlier with you, you introduced two fingers inside of Sally, which made her bit her lip as she tried to hold back a moan. The sight of her about to cum added to the feeling of him thrusting hard and fast into you was all you needed to reach your orgasm again, followed by the immediate release of Sally. She lent in to kiss you as Barry finished thrusting into you. When he finally came, you lied on the floor for a few seconds, exhausted.

“Everyone must be wondering where we are.” Sally said, as she started to dress up again.

“We should come back then.” You replied when you finally caught your breathe again.

You put your clothes on again and, being as discrete as you possibly could, the three of you decided to return to where the rest of the class was. The first one to leave the room, by herself, was Sally, leaving you and Barry alone again. You stared at him as he finished buttoning his shirt.

“Well, that was fun.” You stated as you put on your jacket, you walked to him and gave him a final kiss.

“Sure, we should repeat it again some time.” A smirk formed on your lips as you heard his words.

Not wanting to be even more suspicious, you got out of the bathroom and walked back to where your classmates were. Sally was already there, drinking a beer and chatting with everyone. You gave her a knowing look as you sat by her side and told everyone that you were out having a smoke. You tried to play it cool, converse normally and act as if nothing had happened as you still felt your legs shaking under the table. When you saw Barry coming back, you couldn’t help but to smile again as you thought about his words. You definitely wouldn’t mind to repeat that again.

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glazslippers · 4 years

Text

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

Pairing: Stanley Uris x OC (female) Warnings: cursing

Summary: Quinn had spent her whole life protecting other women from the dangers of men. When she met Stanley, she thought he was just like every other boy she had come across, sex craved and egotistical. Although one of those was correct, that didn’t stop the feelings she felt towards him form.

A/N: this is my first fanfic i’ve posted on here and i honestly feel like a mom on snapchat. if you like it please let me know and i might continue writing things like these in the future! (i’m really sorry if this sucks)

Even though Quinn Macey had moved to Derry less than three months ago, that didn't stop her from making tons of friends. They loved her outgoing and sarcastic personality and the fact that she didn't take shit from anyone. She wouldn't constantly stick up for them at school and in town if there was a guy trying desperately to get into their pants. She was often nicknamed spitfire or hot head or a string of other names, drawing inspiration from her short temper and red hair.

It was no secret that in the three short months she'd lived in Derry, she gained a string of female friends partly because she refused to talk to any of the boys at school or on town. It was her own personal grudge that she held against every living male. They didn't cause anything but trouble in her opinion and the only thing on their mind was sex.

Because of her refusal of boys, many of them and even a few girls had coined her as lesbian, not that she minded. She dressed girly enough, but when she wanted to she could get down and dirty, playing a variety of sports. In her old town, she played on a softball team that won a few state-wide games. She had also dabbled in football and soccer. Though soccer wasn't her favorite, she played it anyway.

When she moved to Derry, she had to quit her team and say goodbye to her friends, which she probably won't hear of again. Starting at the end of the school year might have been hard for anyone else opposite of Quinn. She decided to start out nice, warming up to everyone but when a few guys tried hitting on her, she quickly put her in their place and made it clear she wasn't interested. They had bugged her over and over. If it was just some one time thing she might have looked passed it but since they kept on pestering her, she had to take matters into her own hands.

The last day of school was nearing an end and Quinn found herself eyeing the clock. Her reasoning behind staring at the gadget was nothing more than "maybe if I stare hard enough it'll tick faster." It obviously didn't get the memo, and continued ticking at its agonizingly slow pace.

Maybe it was the sun shining from outside through the classroom window onto her skin, or the fact that she couldn't wait to get out of the retched classroom and was bouncing her leg up and down so much that she had broken out into a small sweat but one thing was certain: today had to be the hottest day of the year.

Quinn thought of the regret she had for wearing jeans and had her hair down while she fanned herself off with her right hand. She had already tied her shirt up as high as the school would allow but it didn't help because of the broken AC system in the class she was in. She looked outside, seeing the seniors leave school early, being dismissed by the teachers because they were upperclassmen and did the calculations in her head. If the seniors already walked out, they must have been released by the teachers, like everyday, five minutes before school let out. Quinn started counting down from 300 in her head.

297, 296, 295.

She couldn't focus on whatever the teacher was saying. The small heat stroke she was having didn't help with focusing either.

230, 229, 228.

She leaned her head back, fanning her neck and wrists. Her once ice filled water bottle became a lake of boiling lava in her metal cup.

134, 133, 132.

Quinn wondered if she had gotten to the halfway mark or already passed it while she was counting. She didn't think she could take one more minute of being without air. Black spots clouded her vision and she lied her head against the window.

97, 96, 95.

She was getting so close. Less than a hundred seconds to go until she could escape the body heat filled room and into the hot summer air. At least she would feel something other than hot.

Quinn was two seconds away from ripping her shirt off and using it as a noose when the bell rang. She sprung up as fast as she could and bolted out of the door. One of her friends, Savannah, walked by her and Quinn grabbed her arm.

"I'm dying," she said in between pants.

Savannah raised an eyebrow at the dramatic girl in front of her. "You good?"

"Do I look good?" Quinn retorted. "I am the definition of lava. If you look it up in the dictionary you'll see a picture of me melting."

"I take it you're hot?"

"How are you not? It's literally two hundred degrees out!"

Savannah rolled her eyes and closed her locker. Ah head just cleaned everything out and placed it all into her book bag. With an amused smile, she looked down at Quinn who had her head against the tall blue lockers. "Wanna go swimming?"

The words sparked energy into Quinn's body. Suddenly, she didn't realize that she had drops of sweat rolling down her face or the bottom of her hair had stuck to her neck. All she cared about was the cool release of hitting the cool body of water and cooling off.

At the mention of swimming, Savannah watched Quinn's eyes widen and laughed. "I'm guessing that's a yes?"

"That's a hell yes!"

Quinn and Savannah hopped out of Savannah's car and Quinn had never undressed herself so fast in her entire life. She stripped down to her underwear and immediately ran and jumped off the cliff that towered over the river. Savannah looked over the edge, worried when her friend didn't pop back up but let out a sigh of relief when Quinn's head poked its familiar red hair out of the water.

"Come in it feels so nice!" She yelled up at the brunette looking over the rocks.

"I don't know, Q. It's pretty high up."

"Just jump! It'll be over in an instant!"

Savannah shook her head and backed away from the edge. "I can't do it."

Quinn rolled her eyes and swam to land. She crawled out of the water and hiked back up to where Savannah was standing. Her wet body weighed her down but the second she rang her hair out it felt as if she lost five pounds.

"Here," Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand. "I'll jump with you."

"Quinn," the brunette whined.

"Don't whine, you baby. It's just a few feet."

"A few feet?" Savannah yelled with wide eyes. "Girl, that is at least three hundred feet."

"Maybe, but once you jump you'll realize it's not that high at all."

"Yeah, but I'm not jumping."

Quinn groaned. "Sav, I'm gonna day this in the nicest way possible: stop being such a pussy and jump."

Savannah frowned. "That was you being nice?"

Quinn shrugged and cornered Savannah where she was back to the edge. "You're either gonna hump or I'm gonna push you. You're choice."

"Quinn," Savannah warned. "You better back up." The ginger smirked and an evil glint shone across her eyes.

If it weren't for a group of teenage boys pulling up on their bikes behind them, Savannah would've been done for. The girls' head snapped around to see who had joined them. There were four boys, obviously outnumbering them and probably had the same idea they had after school let out. They threw their bikes to the ground and some removed their shoes while the other removed their shirts, obviously not noticing the two girls half naked in front of them.

Stanley turned his head to the direction of the cliff, sprinting over to it but stopped when he saw the girls. "Um, what're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Quinn said with a little more attitude than she meant.

"Well, obviously we're gonna swim. So, why don't you too head home and play with some Barbies or whatever."

Quinn scoffed and Savannah sighed, knowing what her friend would do in this situated. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Stanley rolled his eyes. "Get lost."

"I'm sorry, who was here first?"

By now, the rest of the boys came over to their friend, backing him up against the girls or one girl in particular. "We come here every summer so it's our hangout," Richie said.

"Oh, sorry. Well just be on our way then."

Stanley crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows when she didn't move.

"What, you thought I was serious?" Quinn bitterly laugh. "I knew boys were dumb, but I didn't think they were that dumb."

"W-We're not d-dumb!" Bill replied.

"Well?" Stanley said.

"Well what?"

"Leave already!"

Quinn put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "No. We were clearly here first. Doesn't matter if you guys come here every summer or not."

"You must be new around here cause this is our space," Richie spike.

"And so what if I am? I don't see your name on this cliff."

Stanley glared at the girl in front of him. "Who do you think you are?"

"Quinn Macey." She smiled almost taunting him to keep bugging her, which he gladly did.

"Well, Quinn Macey, why don't you and your friend head home before you get yourself jumping off this cliff."

Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand protectively. "Her name is Savannah and I've already jumped it. But you pretty boys are probably too chicken to jump aren't you?"

Stanley scoffed and walked forward, making the friends behind him walk forward too. "You think we can't jump it?"

"Nah I don't think that's it. Maybe it's the fact that you're just threatened by two girls who rightfully deserve to stay at your precious little river."

Stanley laughed. "You think we're threatened by you? A spoiled brat that can't stand not getting what she wants?"

"You little-" Before Quinn could get close to Stanley, Savannah held her back by her arms. Quinn obviously struggled against Savannah's grip but the brunette wasn't looking for a fight, she just wanted to swim.

"Stan, maybe we could just share it," Eddie whispered to the curly headed boy in front of him. He also wasn't looking for a fight and wanted to remain peaceful, knowing Stan was too stubborn to give up and Quinn probably was the same.

"Share? Ed, have you gone crazy? Why would we share the river with some random girls?"

"Well, I don't really wanna fight over it and it seems like the best option. We both get what we want," Eddie shrugged.

"I-I'm fine w-with sharing," said Bill.

"Not you too," Stan sighed and looked at Richie. "Rich, tell them sharing's not an option."

Richie looked away from Stanley, kickoff the dirt underneath him. "I mean, all I want to do is swim. I guess it wouldn't matter if there are chicks in the water or not."

Stanley groaned. "Fine."

"So you guys are leaving?" Quinn asked, crossing her arms.

"No, we're gonna share," Eddie explained. "That way we both can swim."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "No way. There's no way-"

Savannah cut Quinn off. "We'll take it!" At the ginger's gaze she shrugged. "What? I want to swim."

"Good." With that the boys finished taking off their clothes, leaving them in only underwear.

"So, are we swimming with strangers or..." Savannah trailed off.

"That's Bill, Eddie, and Stanley," Richie introduced, "and I'm Richie."

"Savannah and Quinn," the brunette formally introduced.

Stanley and Quinn kept glaring at each other during the introductions as if the first person to look away would lose their little mind game between just the two of them. During this time, Eddie, Bill, and Richie had already jumped from the cliff. Quinn obviously had no intention of moving her gaze until Savannah grabbed her arm. She cursed herself when her head turned to meet Savannah's gaze. Stanley held a satisfying smirk on his face because he had won their staring contest.

"Q, I'm just gonna take the long way down."

Quinn frowned. "No jumping?"

"You know I'm terrified of heights."

"Fine. I'll be down in a minute."

Savannah walked away leaving Quinn alone with Stanley. Stan walked up next to her and got into position for a running start. Quinn followed his actions, giving him a challenging smirk. Stanley narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze ahead. They took off at the same time, another wordless challenge adapted to see who could jump the farthest.

Quinn thought for sure she jumped farthest and swam back up to the surface with a satisfying smile on her face. That was until she saw Stanley pop his head up and flip the hair out of his eyes. He was just a few feet in front of her and a frown formed on her face when she saw the teasing glint in his eyes as if he was dying to annoy her by saying he had gotten farther than her.

With a huff, Quinn swam over to where Savannah had gotten in at and began chatting with her, occasionally swimming further out to get away from the boys.

Stan tried his best hiding the looks he gave Quinn from afar but the boys had caught on since he wasn't that good at hiding. Richie splashed Stan's face to stop him from staring.

Stanley wiped his face and glared at Richie. "What was that for?"

Richie smirked. "You were staring."

"Was not."

"We're to."

Eddie joined in. "It was kind of obvious that you were staring, Stan."

"Stan l-likes Q-Quinn," Bill teased.

Stanley splashed Bill in the face to shut him up. "No I don't. I'm just annoyed that they're here."

"I'm not," said Eddie. He turned to the girls that were a little further out than they were. "Hey, guys!"

Their heads turned to the voice shouting at them. Stan's eyes went wide as he hit Eddie in the arm. "What are you doing?" He whispered.

Eddie shrugged. "Inviting them over for a game." He turned to the girls that started swimming over, led by Savannah. "Wanna chicken fight?"

"How do you play?" Savannah asked. The boys stood on the shallower end so when the girls came up, the water was up to their chests. Quinn stood behind Savannah with her arms crossed, not particularly wanting to be around Stanley.

"One person gets on another person's shoulders and fights the other team. The first first to knock the other off, wins," Eddie explained.

"Okay, who's gonna get on who?" Quinn questioned.

"We'll switch it up so it doesn't really matter right now."

"Okay, Savannah. Hop on." Quinn went under water and let Savannah climb on top of her shoulders. When she was on, Quinn went back above water and grabbed onto Savannah's thighs so that she wouldn't go anywhere.

"How the hell did you-" Richie started but was interrupted by Quinn.

"Sav's a twig. She weighs, like, two pounds."

Richie got on Bill's shoulders while Eddie and Stanley watched. Richie and Savannah grasped hands and started fighting. Bill and Quinn navigated to help better their team's chances at winning by moving from side to side or forwards and backwards. It was a tough fight, but eventually Richie was the victor. Richie yelled how proud he was and Bill shook him off his shoulders.

"Who's next bitches?" Richie asked, ready for another round.

"I wanna go," Quinn announced. Savannah seemed to have a lot of fun and it would be extremely satisfying to knock one of the boys off. "Sav?"

Savannah's eyes widened. "Um, no offense, but I'm not as strong as you."

Quinn playfully glared at her. "Are you calling me fat?"

"Don't worry, Quinn. Stan's pretty strong, he'll be able to hold you," Richie winked.

"I'm not fat!"

"Alright, Eddie get your ass over here so I can get on your shoulders. Quinn you get on Stan's shoulders," Richie instructed. Stan and Quinn's eyes widened at the boy's words.

"No way!" They yelled in unison.

"Everyone else has gone. Stop being losers so we can play the game."

"Fine," Stanley huffed and went under water so Quinn would have an easier time of getting on. After a few seconds, he still didn't feel her weight on his shoulders and popped back up. "You just gonna let me drown?"

"That was the plan," Quinn admitted with a smirk on her face.

"Will you just get on, brat?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Stanley dipped back under water and Quinn crossword over his shoulders. He came back up and placed his hands a little too high up for Quinn's comfort. She smacked them away but the second she started falling back tugged on Stan's hair. His neck got hot and the tips of his ears went red. "Got a thing for hair pulling, pretty boy?"

"I won't hesitate to let go," Stanley warned.

The truth of the matter was that Stanley was beet red. Only Eddie and Richie could see him like this and to anyone else they would've thought that Stan was just having a tough time keeping Quinn up. Except that was the opposite of what was happening. Stanley was quite strong as he used the muscles in his legs to hoist them up out of the water.

It just so happened that the mix of hair pulling (one of his turn ons), the fact that her stomach was up against his head, and the his touch on her thighs made him blush all over. Oh, and also because her crotch was sitting on the back of his neck.

Quinn and Richie joined hands and the boy knew that if Stanley was in his place he would've had a field day at what he was witnessing. Because Quinn was bent over and her arms had squeezed to the sides of her breasts to meet Richie's arms, her boobs had smushed together. Richie didn't dare look but he could still see them from where he looked on her face.

They fought back and forth, Quinn pushing at Richie and the other way around. She would occasionally grab onto Stan's head to regain her balance and when she did, Stanley backed up so that Richie wouldn't take the opportunity to knock her off. After a few minutes of struggling on both ends, Quinn eventually pushed Richie off Eddie's shoulders.

The boy went down with a loud yell and defeated, emerged from the water with a frown. "I really just got beat by a girl."

Quinn had a proud smile on her face. "Don't take it personal, I'm just stronger than you." She patted Stanley's head. "You can let me down now."

Stanley went under water and released his grip on Quinn's thighs. Once he didn't feel her on him anymore, he returned to the surface, almost bumping into her. Neither said anything, but both had a small blush on their cheeks as they swam to their separate groups.

Savannah didn't miss the pink tint on Quinn's cheeks and shared a knowing look with Eddie. She and Eddie walked onto land that was about two yards away to get away from the others.

"So, are they in love or are they in love?" Savannah laughed.

"All of the above," Eddie responded with a smile similar to the girl in front of him and looked at Quinn and Stanley who were hiding behind both Richie and Bill.

"And what are we gonna do about it?" Savannah asked, rocking on her feet.

"What do you mean?"

Savannah rolled her eyes. "Well, if we're gonna set them up we gotta have a plan."

"Oh, right. How about we all go to the movies and make them sit next to each other?" His eyes suddenly went wide at the thought he had. "And they can share a bucket of popcorn!"

"Shh," Savannah shushed him. "That's a good idea. But what movie are we gonna see?"

"How about a horror movie?" Eddie suggested.

"That's genius! I know Quinn and she gets scared easily. A scary movie will have her jumping into his arms."

"The theater's doing a rerun of all the eighties scary movies on Saturdays. So tomorrow they'll be playing A Nightmare on Elm Street."

Savannah nodded. "We'll be there."

"Are you gonna be scared?"

Savannah laughed at his question. "Hell no. If there's one thing I have over Quinn it's scary movies. I love them, she hates them."

"Alright, we'll meet you guys there at six, okay? By the time we get out, it'll be dark."

"I'll make an excuse on why I can't take her home and then Stan'll have to walk her." She wiggled her eyebrows.

After a few more hours in the water, it started getting dark out, which meant it was time to leave. Quinn decided against putting on her jeans and instead slipped her shirt over her head and put on her socks and shoes. Her shirt was rather large because it was her mom's so it came down a little above the bottom of her butt, still showing the underwear underneath.

Savannah didn't miss Stanley's stare directed towards Quinn's body and held a big smile on her face. Once in the car, Quinn questioned why Savannah was smiling so large.

"Cause I have a huge crush on Stanley Uris."

Quinn didn't sense the joking tone in her voice and replied with a simple, "Oh."

Savannah snorted at her friend who stared out the window like her soul had just collapsed. "I'm just kidding, he's all yours."

Quinn's head snapped to the driver and scowled. "I do not have a crush on Stanley. Did you not witness what I witnessed today? He was an ass."

"Or maybe, he was having a bad day."

"Or maybe, he's an ass."

Savannah rolled her eyes and continued driving. "Wanna go see a movie tomorrow with the boys?"

"Is-"

Savannah interrupted Quinn's question. "Is Stan gonna be there? Yes."

Quinn glared. "That's not what I was gonna ask. Is someone gonna pay for my ticket? Cause I don't have any money."

"I'll pay for you, sugar baby." Savannah winked.

"Thanks daddy." The girls erupted into laughter.

The next day, Savannah showed up at Quinn's house just before five. Quinn was still getting ready as Savannah walked into her room. She was contemplating whether or not to wear her smaller hoops or go bold and wear larger ones. "Which ones?"

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Quinn's attire. She wore a short blue sundress that had no sleeves and reached just above her mid thigh. It might have been one of the shortest dresses she owned but it definitely wasn't number one. She didn't wear any makeup, like always, but had lip gloss on her lips.

"The small ones," Savannah decided and watched Quinn put them on in the mirror. "Is all this for Stanley?"

"Will you shut up? It's hot outside and I am not making the same mistake as yesterday."

"I'm guessing that's the same for the earrings, lip gloss, and perfume?"

Quinn have her a look. "We're going to the movies with a group of people. Why not get a little dolled up?

They hung out for awhile at Quinn's house until it was time to leave. They both hopped in Savannah's car and drove into town where they would meet the boys at the movie theater. Savannah had yet to tell Quinn what movie they were going to see but she could only assume it wasn't something sappy if the boys were tagging along. Or maybe they were tagging along with the boys. Either way, they were going to see a movie and Quinn hoped it was going to be good.

The boys were already waiting for them as they pulled up and parked. Quinn noticed there was one less male from yesterday and furrowed her eyebrows as they neared the group. "Where's Stanley?"

Eddie and Savannah looked at each other knowingly while Richie responded. "He's inside away from the heat. We've been here for awhile."

"It is pretty hot out," Quinn admitted. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Since four thirty. Eddie forgot what time we needed to be here so we've just camped out waiting for you two," Richie explained.

"Well, lets go in and buy our tickets."

Savannah bought her and Quinn's ticket while the boys bought theirs. When it came to who was getting popcorn, Bill and Richie would share a bucket, so would Savannah and Eddie and Quinn and Stanley.

"Wait, why can't we share a bucket?" Quinn asked Savannah as she took the bucket of buttery popcorn in her hands. Movie theater popcorn was her favorite kind of popcorn. It was popped fresh in front of you and you could determine how much butter you wanted on it.

"Cause I'm not sitting next to you. I'm sitting next to Eddie," Savannah said as they walked into the theater where the movie was playing.

Eddie sat next to Savannah, who was adjacent to Bill and Richie. Quinn found herself sandwiches between Richie and Stanley. A duo she didn't know if she could handle without her open minded friend. Reluctantly, she handed the bucket of popcorn to Stanley. If she wanted some later, she'd grab it herself. When she usually shared, Quinn would set the popcorn on the arm rest but right now she wanted to rest her arm on it.

After what seemed liked a thousand previews of every movie other than the one they were watching, the movie started. The theater went black and the only lights were the emergency ones and the big screen in front of them. Quinn grabbed popcorn and shoved it in her mouth, almost chocking when she saw the title come up on the screen.

THE NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

Quinn watched in horror with wide eyes then turned to her left, looking over Richie and Bill and scowled at Savannah who was happily eating popcorn. Resting her back into the chair, Quinn sank down and mentally groaned.

"What is it?" Stanley whispered.

"I wouldn't have come if I knew we were watching this," Quinn responded. She would rather puke her own guts out than watch anything gruesome or filled with jump scares. Unfortunately for her, it would be a long night full of violence and scares.

Quinn wasn't expecting a sex scene to show up and the moment it did, she immediately became uncomfortable. Thankfully, it passed by quick enough and she was left with more agonizing jump scares. One scene in particular made her grab onto Stanley's hand that was resting on the arm rest.

The movie continued with little touches like that. Sometimes when Quinn stuck her hand inside the bucket of popcorn, Stan's hand would be there too and they would brush up against each other.

Then there were times when Quinn got really scared and hid herself in Stan's shoulder to stop herself from watching the screen. Stanley was more than okay with the times she got scared. He didn't want to seem too forward and comfort her back but he let her continue hiding in his shoulder.

When the movie ended, Quinn bolted out of the theater to finally get air and leaned against the wall, the rest following shortly after.

"S-Scared of a m-movie, Q-Quinn?" Bill teased.

"Not at all. I was just getting a little hot," she lied. The group walked to the front of the theater and Quinn looked out the windows with wide eyes. "Oh, it's dark."

"That a problem?"

"No," Quinn snapped a little too harsh at Richie's taunt. "I think we should head home, Sav."

"About that, mom said I needed to be home at eight and it's already seven fifty-two. Could you walk home?"

"A-Alone? Out there?" Quinn's gaze went from Savannah to the pitch black outside.

"Stan can walk you home," Eddie suggested and nudged his friend. "Right, Stan?"

Stanley's head shot up at the mention of his name. "What?"

"You'll walk Quinn home, right?"

"Uh," Stanley looked at Quinn who seemed nervous about walking home alone. His expression softened. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, well I had fun guys, but I should go so my mom doesn't rip my head off and feeds it to the dog." Savannah waved goodbye and got in her car and left. Richie, Eddie, and Bill all left together, leaving Stanley and Quinn alone.

"So, did you like the movie?" Stan asked.

"Hell no."

Stanley laughed and Quinn felt her heart beat a little faster when he did. "I take it your not much of a horror fan?"

"I avoid them like the plague." Quinn crossed her arms and continued looking outside, almost as if she was looking for any supernatural creature or serial killer hidden behind street lamps or alleyways.

"Where do you live?"

"The culdesac off Baker Street," Quinn responded. When they started to walk, she noticed her shoe was untied and told him to wait as she bent down and tied it. "Okay, we can-" Quinn gasped and froze when she felt a hand come in contact with her bottom.

Stanley's eyes widened and his head shot to the culprit. It was some teen who didn't go to their school. Luckily, he was Stan's height so when the Jew grabbed hold of the boy's collar and lift him up, he didn't have to move far. While up in the air, Stanley pinched him in the face and threw him on the ground. Some of the people in the same area witnessed it happen and also saw that when the manager came out, Stan grabbed Quinn's hand and ran outside. They didn't stop running until the theater was out of sight.

Quinn was in shock and confusion by what had just happened and who she had froze instead of beat the boy to a pulp then and there. Maybe when you've defended other girls your whole life, it comes as a shock when it actually happens to you. Quinn was extremely lucky to have had Stanley there beside her in her vulnerable moment and snuck a glance in his direction.

His forehead glistened under the lamp's light because of the sweat from running and he stuck his hands into his pant pockets. He looked down and tried to regain his breath. They walked in silence for a few paces until Quinn finally spoke up. "Thank you."

Stanley looked over at her. He wasn't going to push the subject on her so he let her speak first before asking any further questions. "It was nothing. Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded and frowned. "I should've chopped his dick off and made him eat it right there." Stanley raised and eyebrow and Quinn huffed. "All I've done my life is try to protect other girls from men like that but the second it happens to me I freeze? It's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic. It's just different when it comes to protecting yourself. Instead of an offense attack, it's defense. Two different tactics."

"Then I guess I need more practice on defensive strategies."

They walked through the dark with only the light of the street lamps over their heads. From her left, Quinn heard a bush shake quickly and pounced onto Stanley's side, grabbing onto his arm for dear life. He looked down at her and the second she realized there was no danger, she looked at him. It was only for a second before she jumped back to where she was beside him earlier.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I-It's fine." He looked down at her and bit his lip. "If you weren't just sexually assaulted, I'd ask to kiss you."

Anger rose in Quinn's body until his full sentence registered in her mind and her face softened. "Y-You would?"

"Yeah. You're pretty and confident and when you jump into me it makes me feel more like a man."

Quinn rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I wouldn't mind if you asked."

"Really?" Quinn nodded. "So, can I kiss you?" Quinn nodded again and Stanley bent down and placed his lips on top of hers. Even with the limited knowledge about these encounters didn't stop her from kissing back. Her hands made their way up his neck and while one stayed there, the other trailed up into his hair and twirled it around her finger. Stanley placed his hands on her sides and pulled her in closer so that their hips were touching. He was bold enough to run his tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entrance and she was fine with it, letting him in.

Their little kiss had turned into a make-out session in the middle of the sidewalk until a sound from behind Quinn made her break away and dart her head towards it. It was just a bird flying out from the bush but that didn't stop her heart from pounding fifty miles an hour. Stanley's puffy lips turned up into a smile as he grabbed hold of her hand, reassuring her that it was alright.

"Sorry," Quinn apologized and under his gaze, blushed. He was the only one that had ever made her blush and she didn't know how to act.

"It's fine. Come on, we're almost there." They continued to walk, neither one talking about their shared moment just a few steps ago and fell into a silence before Stanley broke it. "You know, as a man, I don't claim him as part of my gender."

Quinn chuckled. "'As a man,' huh?"

Stanley scoffed in shock. "I am eighteen. Legally I am a man. And I look like one, too." He flexed his muscles.

Quinn let her eyes sweep over his body. "Whatever you say, pretty boy."

"Pretty man," Stan corrected with a smile and Quinn just rolled her eyes.

#stanley uris #stanley uris fanfiction #stanley uris fanfic #it #it fanfiction #it fanfic #stanley uris x oc #the losers club #it 2017 #wyatt oleff #stanley uris imagine #imagine #one-shot #one shot #stanley uris one shot

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pinknerdpanda · 6 years

Text

The Wedding Singer - Track 9

“Ladies Night”

Characters: Dean, Castiel, Ketch, Lisa, Reader (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,811

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the seventh chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @hannahindie entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. Hannah made our beautiful aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

Track List

Track 9: “Ladies Night”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted his best friend as he entered the bar, his blue eyes slightly more glazed than normal.

“Hey Cas. Thanks for meeting me, buddy,” Dean motioned toward the woman behind the bar and ordered a beer.

“That’s what friends are for,” Cas watched his friend with curiosity.

“Right and the chance to meet girls in a town that is not Chapel Hill had nothing to do with it,” Dean nodded appreciatively as the bartender set down his drink.

Cas shrugged. “Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt. So, what’s going on?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have to look at Cas to know he was working hard to suppress a smirk. “Like you haven’t heard already.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas lied. He’d heard the rumors around town but chose to reserve judgement until he could hear it from Dean himself.

That was one thing Dean had always appreciated about his friend; He always gave people the benefit of the doubt. Whereas most people around here soaked up gossip like sponges, Castiel listened to what people had to say and locked it away in some cavernous part of his brain until he had enough facts of his own that he could make his own conclusions. That and his shitty poker face.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Dean sighed. “You know that, right?”

Castiel laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Would you rather me be an excellent liar? I would think that to be far more deceitful.”

Dean took a large drink from his beer and licked his lips. Where to even begin?

“I kissed her.”

Castiel’s face twisted in mock confusion as he narrowed his gaze. “Who?”

“Come on man,” Dean shook his head. “Y/n. I kissed her...twice.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah because she’s engaged. And because I was almost married to Lisa.” Dean sighed. “I don’t even really know her, Cas. But damn if I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Castiel brought his own drink to his lips and drained it of it’s contents. He sucked his teeth, stalling for some pearl of wisdom he could provide. Before he could speak, the bartender was there, slamming glasses down and muttering under her breath. He and Dean glanced at each other before turning their attention to the woman, who looked so mad she could spit fire at that moment.

“Everything alright, miss?” Dean crooned tentatively.

“Fine.” She jerked a rag from behind the bar and began rubbing furious circles into the already gleaming wood of the bar.

“Well,” Cas’ voice creaked slightly as she turned her full, livid gaze on him. “Excuse me for saying so, but you don’t seem ‘fine’.”

She groaned, throwing the rag down in front of her. “It’s just that some assholes think that if they make enough money or dress a certain way, that they can treat women however they want.” She cast a sideways glance down the opposite side of the bar.

“Which one is it that needs his ass kicked?�� Castiel clapped Dean on the shoulder. “My good friend here is skilled at that.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide as he snapped his head down to look at Cas’ hand and then back up at his face before turning back to the woman.

She chuckled, and rolled her eyes as she fought back a smile. “Now, boys, I appreciate the offer, but I’d hate to have to kick such kind, chivalrous men to the curb for fightin’ in my bar. He’ll get his.” She winked at Cas and grabbed his empty glass, refilled it and headed toward the backroom.

The bar was beginning to fill up, but Dean craned his neck in the direction the bartender had come from. There, at the other end of the bar was a man with dark hair and a smug, pretentious smile adorning his clean shaven face. His suit looked like it cost more than most people around here made in a month. Dean watched the man purse his lips as he watched a young, blonde waitress pass his table. He made no effort to hide the way his eyes roamed hungrily over her body. It made Dean’s stomach churn and he turned back to his beer.

“Asshole identified,” Dean muttered as he took another drink. He looked at Cas and was surprised to find his face ashen and his blue eyes wide with some unidentified expression. “Hey man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Or something,” Cas stared over Dean’s shoulder for another second before dropping his horrified gaze to meet Dean’s. “It’s Lisa,” he whispered.

Dean felt a sudden rush of emotions well up in his chest; rage, pain, love, hope, regret. They shifted so violently from one to the next and back again, that Dean felt like he was drowning in a churning sea. He grabbed Cas’ drink and swallowed it in one large gulp, trying to focus on the burn as it slid down his throat instead of the surge of trepidation flaring within him.

Cas peered around him. “It looks like she’s meeting some dickbag.”

Dean whirled and saw Lisa’s long, mahogany hair bouncing happily as she wove her way up to the opposite side of the bar. Her attention was too distracted for her to notice him staring, or she might’ve seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed back the the tears that threatened to fall. Seeing her made his heart feel like it would burst out of his chest and the sight of her, happy and smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world made his teeth grind fiercely. She approached the end of the bar and leaned over, kissing the man with the dark hair in a way that made Dean’s fingernails dig into his palms as he clenched his fists.

He turned back to Cas and spoke between gritted teeth, “That’s him. That’s the asshole.”

“Asshole. Dickbag. Douche canoe,” Cas shrugged. “Potato tomato.”

He steeled his nerves and stood up, but Cas grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “Listen, is going over there and making a scene going to solve anything?”

Dean pursed his lips together, considering the question. “No, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

“Then by all means,” Cas released his friend, and followed as Dean made his way toward Lisa.

The closer he got to her, the more unsure he felt. What would he say to her? What would she say back? Who is she with? The questions swirled inside his head and made him rethink his decision. Then, just as he was about to abort mission, he heard what he didn’t realize he’d been dreading the most.

“Dean?” She breathed his name and the sound of it falling from her lips made his chest tighten. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dean focused all his efforts into keeping his voice steady.

“Lisa, darling,” the man cooed and shot Dean a dangerous look. “You know these two blokes?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Arthur Ketch - this is, uh,” Lisa’s face burned a deep shade of scarlet and she tried to avoid Dean’s incensed gaze. “This is Dean Winchester.”

“I’m Castiel, and you’re a bitch. Now we’re all caught up,” Cas mumbled from behind Dean, but no one seemed to hear him.

Dean looked back and forth between them, studying every detail of the way they sat. Lisa’s back was pressed up against Ketch’s side and his arm was wrapped possessively around her waist.

“So nice to meet an acquaintance of Lisa’s,” Ketch cocked an eyebrow in Dean’s direction. “It’s a shame, I don’t think she’s mentioned you.”

“Ketch,” Lisa pleaded.

“No, I don’t suppose she would have mentioned her fiance that she stood up at the altar, what...two weeks ago now?” Dean frowned and Lisa looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole.

Had it only been two weeks? With everything between he and y/n, it had felt like a lifetime. Y/n.

“Wait, Ketch?” Dean narrowed his gaze. “As in Y/n’s Ketch?”

Ketch gave Dean a scathing sneer and it was obvious he was right. Dean’s vision swam red as fury boiled inside of him. He could feel his nails biting into the thin skin on the palms of both hands. He was surprised to find himself more angry that Ketch was most likely cheating on Y/n and hitting on bartenders than the knowledge that Lisa was already seeing someone.

“Heard you two set a date earlier today. Sounds like congratulations are in order,” Dean spat the words out.

“I thought you said things weren’t serious, Arthur.” Lisa’s face was full of bitterness and hurt as she looked at Ketch. Dean was filled with the slightest glimmer of satisfaction. Maybe she’d understand how it felt.

Ketch looked at her dispassionately, irritation making his nostrils flare. “Darling, are you really going to believe this oaf?”

Lisa pressed her lips together in a fine, tight line and shook her head. “I should have known things wouldn’t change with you.”

She rose, jerked her purse over her shoulder and pushed past Dean and Cas without another word. Ketch watched her and sighed loudly, but made no move to follow her. His mouth was drawn up in a scowl as he rolled his gaze back to the two men.

“Well, are you lads happy now?” Ketch smacked his lips before reaching for his drink and tipping it back. He stood as he lazily pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket and tossed it next to his now empty glass. He smoothed down the front of his suit and pulled at the cuffs of his dress shirt. “Don’t think I don’t know about you and our little y/n, Mr. Winchester. You can play the sad puppy act all you want, but trust me you don’t want…”

Ketch’s words were cut off abruptly as Dean’s fist connected solidly with the bridge of his nose. Cas snickered as Ketch grabbed at his face, a dark, red trickle of blood beginning to trail out of one nostril. The bartender chuckled before clicking her tongue in an attempt to chide Dean. He raised his hands in surrender and winked at the bartender before turning to leave without another word.

Cas hastily threw down enough bills to cover their drinks and waved awkwardly at the woman behind the bar as he turned to follow Dean out. As the warm night air ruffled his hair, the roar of an engine and the sound of gravel being tossed about greeted him and Dean was gone.

“Assbutt,” Castiel shouted, shook his head and held up his middle finger in the direction of Dean’s rapidly retreating car.

Track 10 “Till There Was You” Coming 12/12/017

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riathedreamer · 7 years

Text

Prompt by @creatrixanimi: “grif siblings shitty abusive childhood, especially their early childhood. Maybe including grif protecting Kai from one of their mom's shitty boyfriends or something?”

Warnings: child abuse (child getting slapped) and child neglect.

Characters: Grif and Kaikaina

Word count: 1902

Can also be read on AO3 here.

Theft

Dexter does not put effort into winning the game. Kai likes to win, and he likes to make her smile.

“You can have the car,” Kai offers and places the token in his palm. The Monopoly board is worn and old, given to them by the elderly couple that had been in charge of the dancing dogs. They had been a part of the circus three years ago, and had pitied the siblings enough to let them stay in their cart those late evenings mom just seemed to have disappeared.

Currently they have no circus to follow, and instead mom had found a small apartment for them to live in. It still smells of sawdust, for some weird reason, and mom often calls it a rat’s nest. Dexter is yet to see an actual rat but he is pretty sure the hole on the wall would be a great home for it.

Some nights they would play cards but Kai enjoys playing with the tokens when she gets tired of the actual game. She is strangely good at it. The girl is only eight but has a knack for buying the right properties. Maybe it is pure luck but her ability to force the fake money out of Dexter’s hands is a pain for the big brother – but he is too proud to be actually annoyed.

Kai dreams big and wants the Blue spots. Of course she does not know the properties are in fact deep blue but she is quick to make herself comfortable in those parts of the board. Dexter tells her they are blue and she nods and say blue is her favorite – which lasts until the next time Dexter explains a color to her.

Dexter does not play to win. If you put effort into winning you risk getting disappointed or mad or frustrated, and so it is better to make it clear you don’t even care about the game so no one loses face when the two year younger sister wins. This time he has a strategy – which he will never admit - and he quietly goes after the orange properties, and sometimes the red ones when he has the chance.

Tonight Kai has a different strategy and buys everything she lands on, and when she snatches St. James Place right in front of Dexter, the last one he needed to be the ruler of orange land, he frowns to hide his annoyance.

“You’re gonna be broke soon,” he warns her and crosses his fingers that he will somehow avoid landing on one of her properties in his next go.

Kai smirks, and there’s a sort of secrecy in her eyes that is never a good sign. It usually means trouble, and trouble means Dexter has to deal with it since no one else will. When she lands on Atlantic Avenue she demands to buy it before she has even asked which color it is and before Dexter can tell her it’s yellow.

“You’re short on cash,” he reminds her with a snort, and her smile grows big enough for her dimples to show before she fishes out two twenty dollar bills from her lap and places them proudly on the board. Dexter stares at them with a dropped jaw. Kai is good with numbers, that is how she wins this game.

He removes his eyes from the bills to stare at her. “Kai, where did you get those?” He usess the grown-up-voice, the one he needs every now and then when Kai does not want to go to bed or when she starts making a scene in front of too many people.

The proud smirk on her face starts to falter, replaced with a scowl now when her attempt to give him a fun surprise apparently has failed. “From the counter,” she admits, “I was gonna give them back to mom afterwards, I promise.”

Mom does not have that much money. Well, she probably has at times, to pay the rent, barely, but she’d never leave them lying around like this. If they ever have some money to spare, they’ll never see them, and they will never enjoy them since they can’t drink the bottles mom bring home. Dexter knows some tricks from the circus, to play nice and have Kai dance around him while he juggles some colorful balls arounds, and usually the tourists petty them enough to spare some change, and he can buy them some ice cream and other treats to keep the mood high for another day.

But mom usually complains out loud about the rent, at least she did, before Guy moved in.

The guy is a joke – literally, that’s his name, Guy, which is almost worse than Dick which still holds the record of stupid names Dexter has heard. And he has heard a lot, considering how his name is Dexter and his sister is Kaikaina and their mom obviously first found the inspiration for cool names after he was stuck with his.

Guy helps with the rent and sleeps on their couch but only when mom isn’t home. Dexter knows why Guy is here, knows why he disappears with their mom sometimes but can’t bring himself to care; this guy is a dick and will be out before the month ends, probably. He has already made mom cry twice.

But he’s still around because he has money – and enough money to have them lying around on the counter. “Did you take any more?”

“No! You’re no fun, you were supposed to laugh.”

“Well, I’m not! You suck at cheating, geez.”

“You can’t say that! When I stole from the bank you didn’t complain!”

“Wait, what?” Dexter shakes his head, stands up and picks up the money bills, clutching them tightly in his fist. “Just stay here.”

The siblings share a small room, a bunkbed where Kai enjoys letting her feet hang over the edge in order to stick her feet in his dark hair when she sees the chance. Mom isn’t often home at night but when she is she usually sleeps on the couch.

Dexter leaves the door open by less than an inch, too scared –no, worried the noise would wake up Guy who is definitely sleeping on the couch. Probably. Hopefully.

He has only managed to sneak three steps into the room when he looks up, seeing Guy move away empty bottles on the counter with a furious hand. The clinking stops when he spots the child, and Dexter can feel the edges of the crumbled papers stick out through his fingers.

He is not stupid, despite what mom says, and opens his palm to offer them to the adult. “You dropped those.”

The bills are quickly snatched away from him, and the first thing Guy does is to count. He is quick, though, and raises his head before Dexter can back away. “Are you a thief?”

“No,” Dexter says and takes a step forward. There is a commanding tone to Guy’s voice that tells him it’s best not to run back to his room, especially not when Kai is waiting inside. “I just borrowed it. For the game. No one steals money just to return them, that’s stupid.”

Guy reaches out, snatches him by the wrist and drags him closer. He can smell him now, the same sweet odor that sometimes hang to mom so heavily that it makes him yell for her just to leave, even though he always regrets it later. “Are you a thief?” Guy asks again, voice low.

“No.”

His head is forced to the left, and his chin won’t stop stinging, but Dexter says nothing, biting his lip until Guy takes another step forward, demanding a truthful answer.

“Yes,” Dexter lies, shoulders up near his ears, but he allows himself to ease his stance just slightly when Guy settles heavily on a chair next to the counter.

He lets out a grunt, glancing briefly at the empty bottles with narrowed eyes before placing his stare upon the child again.

“Didn’t even get away with it,” he scolds him with a huff, lighting a cigarette. Dexter is not a fan of the smell but it has become familiar by this point.

Dexter considers explaining himself, of course keeping Kai out of that story, but realizes that is probably a lost cause so why even bother. He lifts a hand to rub his sore cheek, glaring at the wall while doing so.

Guy exhales again, and this time Dexter does not wrinkle his nose. “You gotta earn your money fair and square, boy.”

“Why?” The words slip out of his mouth so easily. “You didn’t.”

By the time Guy is off his chair, Dexter has already braced himself but then the door is opened. It’s the one in the other end of the room, thank the gods – hopefully Kai is playing with the tokens right now. Mom is back, and her normally worn face lights up for a moment when she sees Guy up and awake.

Then she seems to notice the entire situation, and the tension seems to both escalate and deflate on the same time.

Guy takes a step backwards to explain the whole thing to her in a rough voice.

Dexter stares stubbornly at the wall while mom is told how he has stolen the bills and how he was caught in the act and how she has only managed to raise brats.

At some point mom focuses on him, orders him to, “Apologize, Dexter.”

He does not want to say sorry, he has so many other words he would rather use, words that’d make the tourists drop their jaws and look at him in horror. You pick up a thing or two at the circus, mom has taught him that much.

But Dexter has been backed into a corner, quite literally, and he says lowly, “I’m sorry.” And because he knows they are both expecting it, he adds, “sir.” He likes to pretend it’s a bad word, a word bad enough to shock mom, and he puts all the bitterness he can gather into the word.

“’least he knows how to show some respect,” is the answer, delivered in a huff.

It seems to be enough, and a harsh shove towards the bedroom is a signal for him to escape. He accepts it gratefully.

Kai backs away from the door, too late to hide the fact she has been peeking in on the scene. Dexter wants to say something but is too tired. He wants to nap. Closing the door behind himself, he looks at the board. “Did you move any houses?” he asks quietly, sending Kai a smile which she returns.

“Nooo,” she says and follows him as he sits down heavily on his bed. Dexter pretends she isn’t staring at his red cheek before she turns limp and leans heavily against his shoulder. “I don’t like respect,” she informs him quietly, shifting to get in a more comfortably position against his soft body.

Yeah, she has definitely been listening to the conversation.

But Dexter does not feel like scolding her, even though she should have just played with the stupid tokens or something, and he sighs, “Yeah. Me neither.”

Kai mutters a muffled apology, saying it was a stupid plan and not fun at all and she should just have left them alone, and Dexter tells her not to worry.

Smalls fingers forces his clenched fist open and gives him the small, stupid car as a comfort.

#rvb angst war #child abuse #child neglect #Grif #Kaikaina #my rvb fic #rvb #grif siblings

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ltleflrt · 7 years

Text

Here’s that fic I wrote that I don’t like. It’s untitled, but it’s inspired by the song Unanswered Prayers by Garth Brooks.

Even though the sun hasn't quite reached halfway to its zenith, the day is already hot enough that Dean is eyeing the pond on the far side of the park with serious consideration. The fact that it's brown and muddy, and the surrounding land is torn up by ducks and geese and stinks of bird shit is only slightly off putting. Which means he's either suffering from heat stroke, because gross, or it's time to head over to the lemonade stand for some cold liquid refreshment.

“Hey, babe?” He calls over his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I'm going to get a lemonade. Want one?”

“Get me one with raspberries?”

Dean smiles. “You bet. Back in a few.”

Before he leaves the shade under the awning, he presses a kiss to a warm cheek. He gets a distracted smile in response, but doesn't stick around for more. He's caught in the siren song coming from the stand at the other end of the Farmer's Market that sells fresh squeezed lemonade. His mouth is already watering at the thought.

It's even hotter outside the shade, and he can feel the sun's heat sinking into his shoulders and arms, making him glad he remembered sunscreen this week. He'll probably still end up with a slew of new freckles, though. At least there's a slight breeze cooling his skin where it's bared by his shorts and tank top. He plucks at his shirt, encouraging a little air circulation under the sweat-damp material.

The line at the lemonade stand isn't too long, at least. He steps up behind the others waiting their turn, and hums under his breath, letting his mind wander over the latest notes he'd received from his editor. It's a little frustrating that he's going to have to cut a scene he'd been planning for so long, but also a relief that Charlie agrees with his decision. As usual he'd gotten caught up in writer's block due to being stubborn about the direction of the story, but after talking it out with her, his mind is already racing ahead to the next five scenes.

He's almost to the front of the line when a voice he hasn't heard in years breaks him from his musings.

“Dean?”

“Lisa?” Dean grins as he turns to greet her. “Holy shit, hi!”

It's as natural as breathing to accept the hug she offers him with outstretched arms. Although there's the slightest twinge of oddness when he realizes she's not quite as tiny as he remembers her to be.

The hug is tight, but short and she steps back to look up at him, her dark eyes alight with happiness. “Wow. Dean Winchester. I wasn't sure sure it was you at first. How long has it been?”

He purses his lips as he digs through old memories. The last one he can vaguely recall is a lazy Sunday spent fishing on a summer day just like this one. “Man… I think it was the summer after graduation? So seventeen… eighteen years?”

Lisa rolls her eyes with a groan. “Oh god, has it really been that long? Now I feel old.”

He chuckles at her distress. “Well if it makes you feel better, you look great.”

And she does. A quick glance reveals that she's still fit and trim. Her hair is still glossy and thick, and her skin smooth. Only the faint laugh lines around her eyes and the sharper edge of her cheekbones show her age at all. When he was a kid, his eyes would have lingered on her body or her mouth, but while he still finds her beautiful, she no longer makes his heart race the way it did when he was in high school.

Her cheeks flush under the compliment. “Well thank you. You're looking good too.” She circles her fingers in the direction of his eyes. “The glasses are cute.”

Striking a dignified pose, he reaches up and pushes them up higher on the bridge of his nose. “I've been told they make me look distinguished.”

Lisa laughs, light and melodious. “I guess that's better than ‘nerdy’.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “I'd take that as a compliment these days.”

She blinks at him, and he can tell she's surprised. But before she can respond, the last person in line ahead of him leaves with their lemonade, and the young man running the stand calls for the next customer.

“You want something?” Dean asks Lisa, hooking a thumb towards the menu hanging next to the stall. She nods, then immediately tries to talk him out of paying, but he won't hear it. “It's just a lemonade, Lis’.” The old nickname rolls of his tongue. “It's not like I'm buying a fancy dinner.”

After a moment she relents, and Dean orders two large lemonades and a large raspberry lemonade. When Lisa lifts a questioning brow at the third order, he grins. “That one is for the ol’ ball and chain.”

Her eyebrows go up. “You're married?”

“Yeah, going on ten years now.” He accepts the first drink from the kid making them, and passes it over to Lisa. She looks so flabbergasted that he laughs. “What? Didn't think anyone would want me?”

She accepts the cup, but gives him a stern look. “It's not that. I'm just surprised you finally settled down.”

With a wince and a nod, he accepts her explanation. “Fair point.” He accepts the other two drinks, and steps away from the stand to give the next customer room to order. “Want to meet ‘em? We have a booth over that way-” he gestures with his own drink, “-selling honey.”

She smiles brightly. “I'd love to.”

He tilts his head in a motion to follow him and sets off across the market, weaving through the empty spots in the crowds. Despite the heat, he’s not in a hurry. The ice in his lemonade chills it enough that he’s worried about brain freeze if he sucks it down too fast, and now he’s able to actually enjoy the day. As well as the company.

“So you sell honey now?” Lisa asks in between sips of her own drink.

“Yeah, we have a bunch of hives. Although that’s just fun money. I pay the bills with my books.”

Lisa almost misses a step, and she looks up at him with wide eyes. “Your books? Are you saying you’re a writer?”

“Published and everything.” Okay, so he may be bragging a little bit, but he is kinda famous now.

“What do you write?”

“Horror mostly.” He grins down at her. “It’s cathartic to turn all the noise in my head into bloody death and destruction on the pages.”

She pales slightly. “Really?”

“Most of my stories have a happy ending.” Not his first few books. It took finding his his own happy ending - and beyond - to learn how to write them for his characters.

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to check them out.”

He can tell from her tone that she’s not really interested. It’s a little bit of a bummer, but he knows the horror genre isn’t for everyone. Especially for someone as optimistic as Lisa. So he decides to change the subject. “What about you? What’s been going on in your life and what brings you back to Lawrence?”

She visibly brightens. “I’m moving back here to be closer to my family. Plus I’m opening a yoga studio.”

“Oh yeah? That’s pretty awesome.” The crowds part and he can see the honey stand not too far away. There’s a young couple sorting through the jars, pointing out different flavors to each other as they try to decide which one they want. Dean always suggests the blackberry. It’s his favorite.

“I’m excited for it,” she says. Then her voice turns shy. “I also… have a son.”

That grabs Dean’s attention, and he turns his head so he can focus on her again. “Wow, really? Tell me about him.”

“His name is Ben, and he’s thirteen.” Lisa goes on to tell him about how Ben is a little flirt with the girls, and loves classic rock. She laughs and points out how it’s funny that her son is turning out so much like the bad boy type that she’s always been into. “His dad’s not around,” she says with a shrug and a grin, “So apparently I’m the bad influence.”

Dean scoffs. “Sounds to me like you’re the best influence.”

She laughs. “Thanks, I guess.”

They’re stopped just outside the stand now, and the couple picking through the honey has made their decision and are walking away with their purchase. Dean leads Lisa into the empty space they leave behind. He meets curious blue eyes over the table still half full of honey jars. Ten years, and those eyes still make his pulse race as if he’s looking at his crush instead of his spouse. “Hey, babe, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

With a nod, Castiel stashes the money he just made in the cash box and gently closes the lid. As if it’s a delicate piece of crystal and not a clunky metal box. Dean’s eyes follow the movements of his long, delicate fingers before turning to Lisa to gauge her reaction to his husband.

She looks slightly confused, her smile not quite as full as it was before, and he bites his bottom lip to suppress a grin. It used to be hard to come out to people. But now, he enjoys the shock factor. It’s almost as good as hearing fans talk about how scared shitless they are when they read his books. And Lisa hadn’t been a part of his life for several years by the time he came to terms with his bisexuality, so she had no clue about the secret he’d been keeping from the world when they were in high school.

Castiel comes around the table and stands next to Dean. He accepts the raspberry lemonade Dean hands him with a grateful smile, and then turns his attention to Lisa. “Hello.”

“Lisa, this is my husband Castiel.” Dean snakes an arm around Castiel’s waist and pulls him close. The back of his shirt is even more damp than Dean’s despite the fact that he’s stayed in the shade the whole time they’ve been at the Market. “Cas, this is Lisa. We were a thing way back in highschool.”

Lisa looks back and forth between them for a moment, disbelief clear in her eyes. But it fades quickly when she realizes Dean is serious. “Hello, Cas. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you as well,” Castiel says, all formality, because heaven forbid he shed his private schooled, silver-spoon-in-the-mouth, upbringing. Not that Dean minds. He thinks it’s sexy. “Dean has talked about you, and I’m happy to put a face with the name.”

“Oh no!” Lisa laughs. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Castiel’s smile is gentle, but his eyes shine with good humor. “I’ve only heard good things, I promise.”

Lisa laughs again and expresses her disbelief, but Castiel is insistent. Eventually their conversation turns to the honey sold at the stand, and Dean stands back and watches them interact while sipping his lemonade.

It’s odd, seeing his past and his present standing side by side, talking about the pollination habits of bees. Lisa had been his everything when they were kids. Eighteen had seemed so grown up at the time, but looking back on it now from the comfort of his mid-thirties, he can only shake his head at how young they’d truly been. It’s no wonder their relationship hadn’t worked out. Despite wanting the apple pie dream of a marriage, kids, and little house with the white picket fence, Dean had the heart of a wanderer and hesitated to promise to plant roots. Not to mention the fact that he still had a lot of growing up to do, although he hadn’t realized it at the time. Lisa was ready to settle down, and kept turning Dean down when he asked her to hop in the car and go adventuring with him. When they both realized that things between them weren’t going to go past a promise ring, they’d drifted apart.

Dean had prayed every night for a long time that she’d change her mind. But when he came back to Lawrence after a year on the road, he’d learned that she’d moved away. With no way to find her he’d finally given up hope that they’d get back together and give life together a go. And he’d gone back out on the road, looking for the happiness he longed for.

Eight years, thousands more miles on the Impala, and a couple published books later, Dean met Castiel. He’d been out trolling for a one night stand, but he’d been hooked by Castiel’s dark messy hair, passionate blue eyes instead. And he discovered a man to love under the thick layer of sexy. One night turned into two, which turned into a week, and somehow it spread into the last ten years. And hopefully their whole lives to come.

They had the marriage part of Dean’s childhood dreams, but instead of a house in a nice neighborhood they had a little farmhouse with a small orchard on the edge of town Dean had grown up in. They weren’t sure yet if they wanted to expand their family past their siblings and nieces and nephews, but it wasn’t off the table yet. In the meantime Dean had his books, Castiel had his bees, and most of all, they had each other. Maybe it wasn’t “apple pie”, but since pecan is his favorite anyway, it worked out perfectly.

At eighteen he hadn’t known this kind of happiness could exist.

He wonders if he could have found it with Lisa. Perhaps. He’d definitely loved her. But with almost two decades between their time together and now, he certainly can’t imagine what his life would have been like if he’d gotten what he’d prayed for back then. He doesn’t even want to try.

“Well, I’d better get out of here,” Lisa says. “It’s almost time for me to pick Ben up from baseball practice.”

Dean shakes away his thoughts, and focuses on her. “You should bring him around some time. I’d love to meet him.”

“I’d like that.” And she looks like she genuinely means it. Which is great. Dean would love to rekindle their friendship.

Castiel and Lisa exchange goodbyes, and then Castiel leans into Dean’s side while they both watch her disappear into the crowd.

“She seems very nice,” Castiel murmurs.

“Yeah, she’s cool.”

He feels Castiel’s eyes on the side of his face. “Just cool? Wasn’t she the girl you prayed to God you’d get to keep forever?”

Dean chuckles and turns to meet Castiel’s eyes. His husband’s lips are just barely turned up at the corner, a sure tell that he’s teasing. “I can’t believe you remember that. We were both wasted when I told you about her.”

“You were wasted,” Castiel counters. “My tolerance for alcohol is higher than yours.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t brag.” Dean leans in and presses a kiss to Castiel’s lips.

When they pull apart, Dean sighs. He’s not sure it’s possible for him to ever get tired of Castiel’s kisses.

“I’m pretty thankfully actually,” Dean murmurs. He traces shapes against Castiel’s chest through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. His finger brushes over the little golden cross hidden under the shirt’s collar. Castiel has rarely taken it off since Dean gave it to him on their five year anniversary. Dean’s firmly settled into being an atheist, but Castiel still has his faith, yet it’s not something that’s ever come between them. “For not getting an answer to that prayer.”

“Hmm... yes, I’m rather grateful to Him for that myself.” Castiel pecks him on the lips again, and then pulls away. His fingers curl in the hem of Dean’s shirt, and he pulls him around the table and back under the shade of their booth.

They don’t have more than a minute to sip at their drinks together before another customer comes up to the stand. Castiel sets his lemonade aside so that he can assist them, and Dean watches him fondly.

His relationship with God had always been tenuous, even before he decided he didn’t believe at all. But right then and there, he sends up a prayer of thanks for all the good things in his life. You know, just in case someone is listening. He may not have gotten what he asked for, not exactly. But he wouldn’t trade what he has now for anything else in the world.

#destiel #deancas #long post for ts #oops i ficced

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