#took a bunch of pictures with my whole tummy out but I don’t know how I feel about them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

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hi! i love your blog! i was wondering if maybe you could write something where y/n and harry just had their first baby and they finally get some time to themselves and she's a little insecure about their first time after the post partum and nervous about her body or how it gonna feels like? thank uu💖

omg thank you 🥺🥺 I'm so sorry this took so long! i hope you like it :)

a very romantic bath for two

warnings: body insecurity, body image issues

word count: 2.8k

You sighed as you inspected your body in the mirror, running your fingers over the raised lines on your tummy and hips. Many of them were new; they had popped up sometime during your second trimester. At the time, you had been too busy worrying about the new life growing inside you and preparing to bring her home to focus too much on what was happening to your body. Even during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you felt huge most of the time, Harry made sure to remind you constantly how much he loved you and your new body. He would rub your belly all the time, leaning down to kiss it and talk to your baby. He insisted it would help them develop faster once they were born, but you weren't quite sure where he got this "fact". You both knew he just liked being close to you and your baby.

He really hadn't left any room for you to be insecure during your pregnancy. He reassured you every day that you were more beautiful than ever, and he was always showing you how much he liked your new body. He could never keep his hands off you, always wanting to touch and hold you. It even got annoying at times, but mostly you appreciated it, and you were glad he never let your hormones get the best of you. Then, after Stevie was born, you were too busy and exhausted to even think about your appearance. You and harry were barely getting any sleep, and all of your time was devoted to caring for the newest member of your family. It wasn't until now, when Stevie was a little over 3 months old, that things started calming down a bit. She slept through the night most of the time, and you were finally coming out of that sleep deprived haze you had been in. Unfortunately, this gave you time to really look at yourself in the mirror. You had just gotten out of the shower, and Harry was with Stevie in the living room. You tilted to the side, looking at how much bigger your stomach was than before you had Stevie. The skin there was dimpled and soft, much more squishy than it used to be. And the stretch marks. They were everywhere, and much more prominent than they had ever been. You weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back to normal. Your negative thoughts were interrupted by a short knock on the door. You quickly wrapped a towel around yourself before you called, "You can come in!" Harry peaked his head into the room, smiling softly. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm out of wipes. I think there's another pack under the sink?" "No, it's okay, i was done," you smiled, reaching under the sink to grab the package. "Is she okay?" "She's fine, lovie," he smiled softly. "You don't have to feel bad being away for her for half an hour." "I know," you sighed. "But i still do. I hate not being next to her all the time." "Me too, i just want to hold her and never put her down." You nodded, sighing internally at how much you already missed your baby. "Why don't you finish up in here and then we'll make some lunch?" "Sounds good," you said, smiling at him in the mirror. Once the door was closed, you dropped the towel again. You really tried not to be too upset about how you looked, but it was hard. You knew if you told Harry he would just say the same thing, that it was normal and he thought you were beautiful. You didn't think that would help much. So you pulled on your old t-shirt and sweatpants, running a brush through your wet hair before making your way out to the kitchen. "Hi, baby," you smiled, picking Stevie up from the play mat on the floor. "I missed you." She snuggled against your chest, her head leaning on your shoulder as she let out a content little sigh. You leaned down, grabbing Stevie's rattle and putting it back in the toy box before you made your way into the kitchen. "How does spaghetti sound?" Harry asked. "Sounds good," you nodded, settling into one of the chairs at the dining table. you were about to pull off your shirt to feed Stevie, but the image of your prominent stretch marks made you reconsider. "Can you grab me one of the blankets?" You asked, but kept your eyes on Stevie. You knew if you looked up, you would see that sad and confused look on his face as he wondered why you suddenly wanted to cover yourself around him, and you really didn't feel like explaining your newfound insecurities right now. Thankfully, he didn't press for answers. "Sure, love. It's in the nursery?" You nodded, fiddling with the collar of Stevie's onesie to look busy. "Okay, I'll be right back," He gave a small smile before he left the kitchen. "What am i gonna do, hm?" You asked Stevie. She just blinked in response. Harry came back with the blanket, draping it over your shoulders from the front. "Thank you," you said quietly, adjusting the cover so you could pull your shirt up. "Of course, love," he replied, going back to the stove. "I wanted to ask you something, actually." You

hummed questioningly, eyes fixed on Stevie under the blanket. "Well, we just haven't had any time alone since Stevie was born, and my mum is dying to spend some more time with her, so do you think... I mean, only if it's okay with you, maybe we could have my mum take her for the weekend?" You hesitated, your heart suddenly beating much faster. Being away from Stevie for more than a day... of course you knew she would be safe and happy with Anne, but still... the thought made anxiety spike in your chest. Then there was the matter of being alone with Harry. You probably should feel guilty for not wanting to spend time with him, but with the way you had been feeling about yourself lately, you couldn't bring yourself to care. But you also knew refusing this would cause all sorts of problems. It would make both Harry and Anne feel bad, and you really didn't want to upset anyone. So, taking a shaky breath in, you nodded. "We can do that. I just... i don't think I can do more than a day or two." "That's totally fine," Harry reassured you. "I don't want to be away from her for that long either. I was thinking we could drop her off Friday after lunch, then pick her up Saturday evening. Or sometime Sunday if they're really having a good time," he laughed. "They'll have all sorts of fun together, mum might not want to let her go so soon." You smiled at the thought of the pictures you knew Anne would send you. Stevie and her in the garden, Stevie in the stroller as they went for a walk, Stevie in the high chair while Anne baked cookies. "Okay. After supper we can get her stuff together." Harry beamed, coming over to kiss your forehead. "Thank you, baby. And if it gets to be too much, we can pick her up early. We can do whatever you need, okay?" Despite Harry's constant reassurance, you felt no less anxious the next day. You checked and re-checked Stevie's bag, making sure she had enough clothes to last her a week. "Lovie, she's only gonna be there for two days," Harry reminded you gently. "No, I know, but what if she spits up a lot? Sometimes she spits up a whole bunch and then she'll need to be changed, and what if-" "Hey, hey," he cut you off, placing his hands on your shoulders and speaking in a soothing tone. "It'll be alright. She's gonna be fine. She has enough clothes, and everything is gonna be okay." You nodded, taking a deep breath as you looked into his eyes. "Right. She's gonna be fine."

-----

"And the milk is here-" you held up several plastic bags- "I'll put this in the fridge. And to heat it up- wait, you already know how to heat up milk," you laughed nervously. "Um, and her onesies are all in the backpack. I have extras in there- a lot of extras, because sometimes she spits up a lot. And then her diffuser is in there too- we usually put a few drops of lavender oil in there, it helps her sleep. And diapers and wipes and diaper cream are all in the bag, and... oh! Her stuffed bunny. It helps her calm down if she's fussy. And I think... that should be everything," You exhaled, trying to smile at Anne. Harry put his arm around your waist. "Y/N, she knows how to take care of a baby. Look how well i turned out!" Despite how nervous you were, you managed to laugh. "Right. I'm just... I'm sorry, I've never been away from her." "It's alright," Anne smiled reassuringly. "I understand how scary it is to be away from her for the first time. But you can call or FaceTime, or if it's too much you can come pick her up." "Thank you," you sighed. "We should probably get going before i change my mind." Harry nodded, unbuckling Stevie from her carrier. He hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. "I'll miss you so much," he said. "But you'll have so much fun with your grandma. And we'll see you soon, okay?" he kissed her one more time before handing her over to you. "Be good for your grandma, okay? I love you," you kissed her just like Harry had. "I love you so much." Before you could start crying, you handed her to Anne. "Thank you so much for this, Anne," you said. "We really appreciate it." "You're a godsend," harry agreed. "Thank you." "Of course, I'm happy to have her," Anne smiled. "Now shoo, so i can spend some time with her!"

-----

"It's so quiet," Harry said as you walked into the house. "I'm not used to it." "I know," You laughed. "There's no cartoons or baby shark, it's crazy." "Can't say I miss baby shark, though," he shook his head. "I think we need to find a new song for her." You nodded. "It got old really fast." "It did," he laughed. "And now... we can enjoy some peace... and quiet." He stepped closer to you, smiling as he heard your breath hitch. "I was thinking maybe we could have a bath together?" Your heart started thudding faster in your chest, and not for a good reason. "No," you said quickly. Too quickly. Hurt and confusion flashed across his face, and you immediately wanted to take back your words. "I just- I can't," you said quietly, stepping back. "Is there... did something happen?" he asked gently, eyes softening when he realized how close to tears you were. "What's the matter, love?" "Harry, I just can't," you shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm trying but I just can't get back to normal. I look terrible and I have all these stretch marks and everything is just wrong," you cried, bringing up your hands to cover your face. "Baby..." he whispered, moving closer and opening his arms. "Come here." You did as he asked, walking into his arms and leaning against him as you cried. "I just don't want you to see me," you sniffled. "Your body isn't wrong," he shook his head. "Not at all. It might look different than it did before, but that's because it went through something amazing. It gave us Stevie! It- you are perfect. Alright?" You nodded against his chest. "I just... i really don't like the way i look anymore and i don't think you will either." Since your face was pressed against his shirt, you didn't see the way his face dropped. You didn't see how much it hurt him to hear you talk about yourself this way. You felt him inhale a shaky breath before he hugged you tighter. "I'm so sorry you feel this way. I had no idea how much it was bothering you. I want- I want to show you how much I love you. Will you let me show you?" "How?" you said quietly. "Do you trust me?" You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He smiled, pulling back and taking your hand. He lead you into your bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you. He crossed the room to stand in front of you again, his fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. "Can i take this off?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. He must have sensed your hesitancy, because he dropped his hands down to his sides. "It's just me," he reminded you. "We don't have to if you don't want to, though." "No, it's... it's okay," You decided, raising your arms. He smiled gently, tugging the soft material up and over your head. You kept your eyes on him as soon as the shirt was off your head, too apprehensive to look down at your body. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. He hooked his fingers in the elastic of your sweatpants, looking at you again for confirmation. You nodded, allowing him to pull the rest of the clothing off your body and taking his hand to step out of them. He lead you over to the bed, keeping his eyes on yours the whole way. "Lay back," he instructed quietly, watching as you did what he said. He climbed into the bed behind you, settling himself between your legs to meet your eyes. "You're amazing," he smiled. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." he brought his hand down to your stomach, and you cringed immediately when he brushed over one of the marks. "It's okay," he soothed. "There's nothing wrong with these. You know what they are?" You shook your head. "They're little marks that remind us of Stevie. They show how strong you are for carrying her, and keeping her safe until she was ready to come out and meet us. And they show how someday, you'll be able to have another baby, and keep him or her safe just like Stevie. Right? That's all they are." He moved down, leaning his head closer so he could press a soft kiss to one of the marks near your hip. "I don't want you to change anything

about yourself," he said, moving his lips over the lines on your tummy. "I love you just the way you are." Tears were welling up in your eyes again, but this time they weren't from anxiety or fear. This time, they were because you felt overwhelmed by your love for him. "Harry..." He looked up, his face falling when he noticed the tears in your eyes. "No, please don't cry," he said, moving back up to hover over you again. "I'm sorry, please don't be upset," he frowned, wiping one of the tears away with his thumb. You shook your head. "That's not why- i just love you so much," you said, trying your best to smile. "I love you too," he smiled back, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. "I love you so, so much, and I will show you every day if you'll let me," he sighed, moving off you to lay on his side. He kept one hand on your hip, helping you turn over to look at him. "I want you to tell me if you're ever feeling like this again, okay? I want to know so I can help you." "Okay," you nodded, still sniffling a bit. "Thank you." You leaned against him, tucking your head in his neck. "Thank you." "Of course, lovie." He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. "I want you to always know how loved you are. It doesn't matter how many times I have to remind you; i don't ever want you to feel like this and not tell me. I love you way too much to let you be this sad." "I will," you promised. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." "it's okay," he soothed, running his hand up and down your back. "Do you think... it's okay if you're not ready yet, but do you think we could try taking a bath?" This time, you barely even hesitated before answering. "I think we can try," you nodded. "We can even turn off the lights if you want, just light a few candles," he mused, his face pressed gently against your hair. "It's more romantic that way anyways." "That sounds good," you laughed. "Come on then," he said, sitting up. "One very romantic bath for two, coming right up."

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generallybarzy · 4 years

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hey there, stranger. iii

SERIES MASTERLIST. one, two

summary: it’s time for your second date with Mat! Everything seems like it’s happening so fast, but both of you have been hurt before, so there’s gonna be a little bit of hesitation when it comes to love… maybe you just need to slow it down a bit.

an: hey, i’m sad and stressed lately so here’s some softness! special thanks to my own 🥔 anon for always listening to me rant and helping me out!!!!!

word count: ~4k

If you thought you hit it off well with Mat on the first date, the best was still yet to come.

Ever since that first glance in the cafe to the first text he sent you, you felt there was something special about him. Something that made him different from your past dates. And you were right. He didn’t waste time after exchanging numbers to text you, and you appreciated that. There were no games played, no “maybe I should wait so I don’t seem too desperate”, none of that. You both wanted to spend more time with each other and you weren’t ashamed to admit it. And though you were both a little shy and nervous at first, it was easy. It was easy to talk to each other. You made each other so comfortable, your energies matched, and Mat could always tell when you had a bad day. He asked why you were acting off before you even realized yourself.

He had practice often, and as the hockey season came to a start, he started having games too, and that took up most of his time while studying took up yours. He’d text you whenever he could, though, and he loved to tell you all about his teammates. It was cute how much passion he had, you could already tell how much he loved the game, loved his team, his teammates. He truly loved them, the way he gushed about his friends, about Anders and Ebs, and Tito and many others, and it just made you care for him even more. And you couldn’t help but smile every time you woke up to a good morning text way before your nine a.m. classes and then a deflated “sorry, i have to get to practice now :(”

“Have fun, mat :)”

And, not that you’d know until much later, it always gave Mat butterflies.

Through the mess of his practice and games and your studying and babysitting, it was hard to find time to hang out again. For a while you were stuck in a loop of texting and sending cute snaps of yourselves to each other, but you were both wanting your days off to match up so you could see each other again. You were stuck in the weird phase of texting every chance you got, even though you’d only seen each other once. You were tired of the “How was your day?” Not that you didn’t appreciate it, but you wanted to be able to talk about something else. And while you wanted desperately to do more than text with him, a part of you was scared. Scared that if you started hanging out again, the connection wouldn’t be there. Scared that the spark isn't really there. Maybe it was the giddy first date nerves and the fact that he was cute. It was inevitable that there was going to be something wrong with this. Things were never perfect, were they?

Then, after over a month since you’d seen him in person last, it happened. The moment you both realized your schedules matched up again, he offered a date. He played it cool, flirty and sweet, as if he’d been running the lines over in his head for a month- he probably had.

handsome mat: “So, I know you moved to the city last year, and I know it’s crazy to move here all on your own. Has anyone really shown you around yet? Showed you their favorite places or recommended any restaurants?”

“Not really. Are you offering?"

handsome mat: “Well, I can’t have you getting lost, can I? Who would go out with me then?” You had turned red at that message and struggled for a bit to find a way to respond. Before you could get over the butterflies and come up with a coherent response, your phone chimed again. “How’s saturday sound?”

“Saturdays great :)”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of that week, all your friends in class commented on how giddy you’d been lately, and begged you to give up some information about this guy you’d been talking to. But you weren’t sure if you were there yet. Maybe it was too early to talk to your friends about him like you’d be keeping him around. You hoped that was the case, but it was better to be safe. You texted Rebecca and told her you wouldn’t be able to babysit this weekend, and she had immediately replied with “You have a date with Mat don’t you! :)”. She was quite proud to have been your matchmaker.

And when Saturday rolled around, you got a text from Mat before you were even awake. “Heading to practice, don’t forget about our date today. See you soon :)”

And you did see each other soon. Before you knew it, you were standing outside your dorm building, watching as Mat noticed you from the other side of the street, his eyebrows shooting up in recognition and a smile blooming onto his face. He had Adidas shoes, tight jeans and a dark hoodie with The Office logo on the chest, a hoodie that looked so big and warm you immediately wanted to steal it. He ran his fingers through his hair, which looked particularly fluffy and floppy today, and made butterflies erupt in your belly. You stood there for a bit too long as Mat tried to find a break in the traffic to speed over to you, but when he got to you, he giggled a little bit, that big dumb smile plastered onto his face.

“Hey. I made it.”

“You did.” There was a brief moment of shyness between the two of you, a moment of nervous ‘Should I hug you?’ but that was soon forgotten. You were happy just to be in his presence, and he was happy too. "’The Office’, huh?" You pointed to his hoodie and his eyes glanced down.

"Yeah? You like it?" He grinned as if he had struck gold. As if he was proud of his choice of clothes today just because you liked it. "Think it's something we could watch together then?"

Your face went hot at the thought of laying on the couch with Mat, cuddled close to his chest and feeling his body pressed against yours. The weight of him against you, the heat radiating from his body to yours. “Yeah, we can watch it together.”

“Nice.” He let out a breath, a little sigh of relief, and the idea that he was so excited to spend more time with you made your heart flutter. “So uhh.” He reached his hand out with a little shrug. “Should we go?” He was offering you his hand.

And, after a few seconds, you took it.

It was the same as the night you held hands in the uber. His hand was huge in comparison to yours. It was big and warm and incredibly soft for a hockey player and made you wonder if he was the type of man to really take care of himself. If he would be the type to have spa nights with you. Oh god, you hoped that was true. It was the same as the other night, the way butterflies were hard at work in both of your tummies, the way your hearts were deafeningly loud, and your smiles giddy and unable to be held back. But, it was different this time. Your hands weren’t cupped together like before, but, entwined, palm to palm, your fingers tangled together comfortably. His hand absolutely swallowed yours up, and it felt so perfect, so right, that in that moment it didn't matter what you labeled your relationship as-- if you were just dating, or exclusive- all you knew there was something about him. Something special.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He smiled down at you, squeezing your hand in his gently. “So, where do you wanna start? We could head up to the Park, walk around a bit, get some food, go shopping...”

“Any of that sounds amazing. Can I show you something first?”

“Lead the way.”

You planned on taking the subway up to Central Park and walking around there for a bit, but first, you intended to show Mat your favorite place to hang out between classes- only a short walk from your dorm building, was the best view you could find of the Brooklyn Bridge. The most Instagrammable place you knew of in the whole city, and you’d definitely posted a few too many photos here. You walked along the streets, hand in hand, and stopped as soon as you turned the corner and saw that view. You looked up at Mat, smiling, proudly showing off your favorite spot.

“Damn… that’s so cool.”

“Right?” It wasn’t really that intimate, it’s not like this was some hidden away nook of the city, there were people walking all around you right now, but it felt intimate to show Mat your favorite place. “You’ve been here longer than me, I feel like you should know the best places, not me.”

“Well, I don’t really hang out around this spot a bunch. That's probably why we’ve never run into each other.” He looked back up at the view in front of you and moved his hand to his pocket, and you had a sudden feeling of loss at the lack of hand in yours- what do I do with my hand when he’s not holding it? “Hold still.”

“What?” You turned around from your spot where you’d been gazing up at the Brooklyn Bridge to see Mat with his phone’s camera aimed towards you, a dumb smile on his face.

“I said hold still!” He whined, motioning for you to turn around again. “This is gonna be a nice picture.”

You turned for him, smiling and posing in front of the beautiful view. “So we take pictures of each other now?”

“Well, I need a profile picture for you on my phone. And it feels weird to screenshot one from Instagram, sooooo…”

“You looked through my Insta?”

“I mean… yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly acting bashful. “I mean… I just wanted to learn a little more about you, ya know? Is that weird? Haven’t you looked through mine?”

“I haven’t.” Not yet.

“Oh, well now I feel creepy…” he trailed off and lowered his phone. “Uh, sorry. This is weird. We don’t have to take a picture if you don’t want to.”

“Mat,” you reached for his hand, curling your fingers around his wrist. If he was ready for this, so were you. You wanted nothing more than to be together, to have physical proof on your phone that you had someone to hold now. “Only if I can take some of you.”

He grinned at your acceptance as he brought his phone back up to snap a few pictures. “There!” He seemed to relax, his shoulders falling into a gentle, content pose as he gazed at the pictures of you in his phone. And then he was beside you, flipping the camera on selfie mode and curling his arm around your waist, “This good?” You nodded, and he tilted his cheek down against the top of your head. You smiled immediately, feeling giddy just at actually seeing yourself and Mat together in the camera. Both your cheeks were flushed. You didn’t even realize when Mat took the picture, you were too busy staring at how cute the two of you looked together. How perfect you looked together.

Was he really going to be the one for you?

Mat gleamed at you in the mirror of his screen, and you were too caught up in the image of yourself smiling- it had been a long time since you smiled because of a relationship you were in- to remember to take a picture of him, too. He grabbed your hand once again, sliding the digits of his fingers between yours and cradling your hand in his, keeping you warm and cozy against his side in the late November chill. “Now let’s get up to the Park, yeah?”

You continued to hold Mat’s hand the rest of your adventure, while you were jumping onto the Subway and finding a space to stand together- Mat had insisted you hold onto him instead of the gross germ-infested Subway poles- and when the train jerked to a start and you gripped Mat’s side even tighter so you wouldn't go stumbling backward. You smiled together all the way up to Central Park, to all the little nooks and crannies of the city that could only be found by someone who’d been there a while already. He held your hand tight, pulling you along and getting laughter to bubble to your lips every time he pointed something out to you with that excited puppy-dog look in his eyes. You noticed elderly couples smiling at you on the street as you and Mat grabbed a bite to eat from a food truck and you realized how much like a couple you and Mat seemed already. Is that what you were? Were you two a couple already? Or were you stuck in that weird phase of dating but not quite exclusive? You really, really hoped it was exclusive, but you weren’t sure what Mat wanted. You weren't sure what he was used to, or expecting from this, and the lack of communication was killing you. How could you bring it up to him?

Later on, your little trip up to Central Park led you back down into Brooklyn, as Mat insisted you end the day with showing you his favorite places near his apartment. So you took the Subway all the way back down to his favorite spots in Brooklyn, the sun falling lower and lower by the minute. He had a smile on his face as he pointed out Barclays center with a proud “that’s where we play!”, and promised to take you to a game as soon as your schedule cleared up. He showed you around different museums and promised to spend another day there, but the sun was going down, and the two of you found yourselves sitting on a little bench in Prospects Park, not far from the cafe where you’d first met.

“Sooo,” Mat squeezed his arm around your shoulders and looked down at you with a gentle gaze. “Obviously, I’m not gonna post those pictures from earlier anywhere, okay? But… if it’s okay with you, can I show them to my friend? I won’t send them, I just wanna tell him about you. He’ll keep it private, I promise.”

Your stomach was going flips at the thought of Mat’s friends knowing about you, but you loved it. You loved slowly becoming integrated into his life, and couldn’t wait to tangle him in yours as well. “Sure, Mat,”

He grinned. “I’m so happy whenever I’m with you.”

You set your head on his shoulder, giggling a little bit at the feeling. “I’m happy with you, too.” The sun was beginning to go down, but you couldn’t enjoy the sunset like you wanted to. Instead, dark clouds were rolling in over the city.

“Oh shit.” Mat looked up, feeling a few suspicious raindrops, and pulled you to your feet, his hand in yours, as the rain started to come down gently and then harder and harder until it was practically pouring down on you. Mat pulled you aside into a small coffee shop, “Probably my favorite in the city”, he commented as he urged you to one of the corner tables. “I’ll go order some warm drinks, okay? Sit tight.” He came back in a few minutes, and as you sat back with each other, waiting for your order to be called, Mat sighed, gazing wistfully out the window to where it was pouring buckets. “Sorry, I should’ve probably checked the weather before deciding on this date."

"No, this is fine. I love the rain."

He smiled. "That's good to know." And then he was jumping up and stepping forward to grab your drinks as the barista called out his name. When he returned with both drinks in his hands, he smirked. "That’s good to know, cause I need to start learning what you like."

It only took a moment for you to recognize why he was giving you that cheeky look as he handed you your coffee. A cheeky little smirk as if he was waiting for something that you didn't know about. After your first sip of the drink Mat had ordered for you, you knew. "Oh my god, Mat!" He laughed and nodded to himself as if proud. It was the drink he had been reading the receipt for over and over when he was nervous in front of you on your first date. He had remembered, "You remembered my order?"

"How could I forget?"

"Wow…" you glanced at his own drink, trying to memorize his order. Black coffee, a hint of vanilla, a splash of almond milk… It made you smile, learning such a thing about him.

"How about we head outside?"

"I'd like that."

Outside, the rain was pouring down and the air had gone chilly. You regretted your choice of outfit when the wind blew through your thin sleeves and a shiver racked through your body.

"Are you cold?" You glanced up to meet Mat's gaze.

"I'll be fine."

"No." Before you could stop him, he was setting his drink behind him on the cafe’s windowsill and pulling his hoodie over his head. He messed up his hair in the process, and it was drooping onto his forehead as he held the black bundle of fabric out to you. “Here. I don’t want you to freeze.”

“Well, I don’t want you to freeze either.”

“(Y/N), put it on.” Before you could refuse again, he slipped it over your head himself. “C’mon babe. Let me help you.” Your heart pounded in your chest and you gave in to him, biting your lip at the sound of your new nickname. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone called you babe.

Mat’s couldn’t contain his smile at the sight of you in his hoodie: your cheeks pink and warm, your smile small and shy, gripping the much-too-long sleeves in your hands as you burrowed into his clothes. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight, and he was certain the cold wasn’t gonna bother him if he had this to look at all night, so he lifted an arm to tuck you into his side. You fit against him perfectly.

“So,” He leaned back against the wall of the building, pulling you along with him. You glanced up at him, your eyes looking breathtakingly adorable behind those lashes, fluttering up at him so innocently. You had no idea what you did to him. “So, what did you tell Rebecca you wanted in a guy for her to think to set us up?”

“I don’t know…..” Mat watched you with an awestruck expression as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking to the ground. You’re so beautiful... “I just mentioned being lonely. And that none of my dates were going well.”

He gave you a little half-smile. “Honestly, I’m glad your dates haven’t gone well. If they had, we wouldn’t have met.”

“Yeah.” You paused for a moment, glancing out into the rain and lifting your arm to curl around Mat’s waist.

Just right.

“I told her,” you continued, “I was just looking for someone genuine. Someone with a big heart, and a lot of passion for something.” Mat let out a little shy laugh, and the vibrations echoed from his chest into your body. He squeezed you against him and you squeezed his waist too. “You’re the most genuine person I’ve met in a long time. You seem like you really care, you’re interesting, you love what you do. You have a passion. I know you say “sorry for rambling” every time you talk about hockey, but it makes me so happy just to hear you enjoy something. You just give off this energy….. It’s perfect.” In a burst of confidence, your fingers gave a gentle squeeze to his side. “And I told her you have to be funny, too.”

“Yeah?” He tossed his head back and let little chirps of laughter fill the air as if he was amused with your standards. “Am I?”

“You are.”

“Good.”

In that moment, any hesitance you had about whether or not the spark was there or not was gone. You felt it, you were sure Mat felt it too. Now, you just had to act on it. “Did Rebecca tell you anything about me?”

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, catching your gaze. “Only your name.” And then, with a smile, he pulled you closer. “And that we’re perfect for each other.”

There was little detail you had time to catch, but what you did, you would remember. His arm tight around your waist, his hand gentle and warm stroking your cheek, long fingers pushing back your hair, his pretty hazel eyes slipping shut as he leaned down. The rain falling down around you became deafening in your ears as he leaned in, as his lips came closer and closer to you, curled up at the ends in a little smile. Your heart sped up. He was going to kiss you.

And you were going to panic.

“Woah, uh, wait, wait, wait!”

Mat pulled away from you, his eyebrows furrowed up and worried. “Too soon?” He took a whole step back from you, holding his hands up in surrender. “Too soon. Sorry.”

You didn’t want to stop him from kissing you, you honestly didn’t, and this would be the most romantic place to have a first kiss, but something felt so off. So rushed. You didn’t want to rush things and ruin something that could be so great. You wanted to go slow and steady, you wanted to savor every moment with him. Who knew when it would be over? “No, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be, really.”

“No, I just panicked. I wanna kiss you.” You took his hands and pulled yourself into his embrace, back to where you were seconds earlier. “I really like you, trust me, and I wanna keep hanging out. I wanna date you. Like, officially. Exclusively. I want it to be us.” Mat smiled.

“I want it to be just us, too.”

Your heart fluttered at his soft-spoken confession, admitted with pink cheeks and a shy smile. So he did feel the same way. He did want you and only you. For now, at least. Who knew what could come in the future? “Really?”

“A hundred percent. I haven’t seen anyone else since we met.”

“Wow.” You bit your lip and held back a smile. Everything you’d been feeling towards him, every feeling you’d been worried about, he reciprocated. It was just the two of you. You were in a relationship. You were his girlfriend. “It’s just… still a little scary. I’m scared to jump back into things again.”

“Bad breakup?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I understand, okay? We don’t need to rush.”

“Thank you. Trust me, Mat. I… I want to be with you seriously. It'd be such a shame to waste the chemistry we have. I wanna kiss you, I just…” You squeezed his hands, hoping he’d understand. “I think I’ll make you wait a little longer for that kiss, Maty.”

“Alright. No worries” His words were punctuated with laughter as he settled back into your comfortable position from earlier and leaned back against the wall of the coffee shop, gazing out into the rain, then back down at you. “I can wait. However long you need, babe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

And then, in the pouring rain, after your little heart-to-heart, you couldn’t help but burst out in giggles. This was it. You’d done it, and you were so excited. “So it’s us, then? Us? We? We’re a couple? A couple?” At this, Mat giggled too, overwhelmed with excitement.

“Oh my God, yeah. We’re in a relationship.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Mat.”

His arm squeezed around your waist. “Yeah.” With a content and peaceful smile, he settled his cheek against the top of your head. “You’re my girlfriend, babe.”

#op #fic #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Chris Evans - Banana’s new friend

Requested by @captainchrisstan, hope you like it! This is another part of the Banana’s series! You can read this without reading the previous one, since there isn’t a plot line, just our favourite plushie making another appearence

Bananas

Banana 2: Banana’s worries

Plot: little Nathan is the new addition to the Evans-Y/L/N family, and Banana is having troubled feelings, along with Claire.

Warnings: I don’t know shit about little babies and births, give me a break.

“I don’t wike it”

In any other situation, it would have been funny, because Chris and you had a bet going on to see how many times she could say it in day. And since he had won the last one, you wanted it for yourself. But it wasn’t funny, because Claire wasn’t laughing neither was Chris, neither were you. No one was laughing in the Evans-Y/L/N family that night, because you were exhausted from more than twelve hours of labour and a whole day in the hospital.

Chris was exhausted too, if not more than you, because the poor man had been running from the hospital to your house all day, taking care of Claire while picking up the stuff you needed.

Both of you blinked your tired eyes at the little girl, who was pouting and had her arms crossed. Nathan gurgled something and drooled on the floor.

“What – what do you mean?” Chris attempted to laugh, but it came out too awkward. “He’s not an it, baby. He’s Nathan, your little brother”

“Well, I don’t wike him” Claire corrected herself and let her lower lip slip even farther from her mouth. “Take him back. I wan’ a differen’ brothe’”

Little Nathan didn’t react to his sister’s word, but kept making baby noises and drooling all over the same spot of the floor. He was wearing what you thought was the most cute onesie you could have found, with little Captain America’s shields all over the cloth, and Claire loved everything that had to do with it.

She had been so, so excited to meet him, that she hadn’t slept through the night, and had begged and begged to his uncle until he had taken her with Chris. After a week in the hospital, that was all she could talk about. And finally, when she got to meet him in the lobby of your home, she said that she ‘didn’t wike’ him.

“Claire, that’s not nice” you said, from your position behind Chris. He was crouching down in front of Claire, who was standing in the first step of the stairs and looking at the baby in her daddy’s arms. “We can’t change Nathan, he is your little brother and that’s final”

“But I don’t wike him!”

You gasped surprised at her sudden rage outburst, because apart from the occasional tantrum thrown from the toddler phase, she was a calm child. What surprised you the most, however, was when she threw the Banana plushie, who she had been dying to show to her little brother, to Nathan’s face.

Chris was fast enough to avoid it hitting the baby’s face, but still it collided with his tummy, and even if it was made of soft cotton, it disturbed the baby from the little daydream he was having. So the screaming started.

“Claire!” you and Chris shouted at the same time, while he raised up and cuddled Nathan to his chest. The small baby cried and sobbed so loud that you wanted to do the same. “You can’t do that!”

“Banana hates him!” she screamed back to you, and ran to pick up her plushie. “And I hate him too!”

You weren’t fast enough to catch the sobbing little girl that ran up the stairs to her room, and closed the door with a loud kick. The four year old girl screamed from her room so hard that you heard her over the sounds of Nathan wailing, and your eyes got glossy.

For so long, you had had the impression that everything had been going well. Claire had overgrown her fear of being forgotten because of the new addition to the family, and she actually helped to make the nursery and always bought something from the toy-store for him. And now, it seemed that everything had gone to hell.

“Oh my god” you cried out, and sat where seconds ago Claire had been. “That went so bad”

“Well” Chris sighed, and walked over to sit with you. “At least she threw Banana at him, not some other toy”

“Yeah, that makes it so much better” you rolled your eyes at him. “I feel so much better now. Thanks babe”

“Okay, I get it” he sat down besides you, and kept bouncing up and down the crying baby on his shoulder. “Do you want me to go and talk with her?”

Just the thought about having to face again a crying kid made you want to dig yourself in a hole and never come back, so you nodded and closed your eyes tightly. There was a constant pain on your lower regions because you hadn’t wanted to stay anymore at the hospital, and the doctor had allowed it as the birth hadn’t had complications.

“Go and rest for a while” Chris leaned down and kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, and actually felt pity. He had dark black bags under his eyes, cracked lips and his head was a mess. There was stain of mayonnaise on his shirt, the same he had been wearing for a whole day, and he still had one sock from each colour. But you felt like dropping dead on the wooden floor, so you nodded.

“But wake me up in an hour or so” you smiled at him and kissed him. He didn’t taste like heavens and angels, but more like morning breath and coffee. “I have to breastfeed monster number two”

“Monster number two seems to be sleeping” Chris looked down to Nathan, who had his shirt fisted by the part of the stain and his little cute mouth open in a perfect O.

“Alright” you yawned and couldn’t get your hand to cover your mouth, just let Chris do his usual stuff and stuck his finger on your mouth. You stopped yawning and sent him the best bitch glare you could manage. “I hate you so much. Not even after pushing your son out of my vagina you give a break”

“What can I say” Chris shrugged. “Banana told me to do it”

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

Your ‘no more than an hour’ nap turned out in a five hours sleep, and by the judge of your breast hanging out of your pyjamas’ shirt, it seemed like you had slept through the feeding. You took a few long minutes to wake up, feeling much better than when you went to bed. Judging the sun up in the sky, you estimated it was around noon.

Loud snores were coming from the bathroom, and with just propping un on your elbows, you could see Chris’ slipper popping from there. You swallowed a laugh and smiled fondly. Putting on your own slippers, you rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

As you had anticipated, Chris was sleeping there. He had his pants and underwear down, sprawled down on the toilet seat and his legs open wide. You didn’t have the heart to wake him, because only God knew how many minutes of sleep he had had in the previous day. So you turned off the main light, picked up his phone from the floor, closing the tab 100 ways of living without sleep, and let the door a bit open so that he wouldn’t wake up in the dark.

Of course, all that after taking a picture that would haunt him in his sleep.

You tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind you. You debated between locking yourself in the bathroom downstairs and drown in the bath until Nathan cried for you, and choking on food on the kitchen. But while you did so, you notice something else.

There was the initial cry of a baby begging for attention, that you knew too well because you had trained yourself with Claire, who had the lungs of an opera singer. Yet as soon as it started, it was over, and then there was a giggle. Something shuffling in the living room and a thud, and you were almost throwing yourself through the stairs to call the police or the firefighters.

What you found, wasn’t what you expected by any means.

“See, this is how you ‘old him” Claire talked in what she thought was a whisper. “I know Banana is too big, but it’s ‘kay. You’ll grow”

Claire was sitting in front of Nathan, who probably had been sleeping in his new crib. You didn’t want to think how she had gotten him out of the crib and in the sofa, and your wanted to think even less that it had been Chris who left him there.

Nathan looked at the banana plushie and then at his sister, making a small gurgling noise. He let Claire put the toy on his lap, and his eyes went wide against it. He moved his little arms and legs up and down, until Banana fell to the ground and Claire jumped behind it. You were ready to jump in and tear Claire away, because she was hell protective about her toy and wouldn’t let anyone touch it.

But she giggled again, put the plushie on the couch and jumped back, crawling to her brother. She pressed a kiss on the side of his head and smiled at him.

“I wike you, by the way” she muttered. “I’m sorry fo’ before. But you can’t tell mommy, because then she will put tha’ smile and I don’t wike it. You will understand, don’ worry Nathan”

What was left of your pride after letting a bunch of doctors look at your vagina dropped to the floor. Chris was always mocking you on how you were the most prideful person in the world, and how you had the ‘I won’ smirk that managed to get on everyone nerves. You hadn’t thought anything about it, but that Claire had noticed to made you mad, because he was right and you weren’t.

“I hope you aren’t allergic to bananas” she muttered as she took one of his little hands in his. Nathan was dozing off again. “Cause then I’ll have to get rid of you. Like in the TV”

You sat down by the stairs and leaned your head against the wall, smiling proudly. Claire kept talking to Nathan softly, as if she knew he was sleeping and couldn’t be disturb. Maybe, in the years to come, you would have to worry about Claire throwing Nathan off the high chair because he didn’t like Bananas, or about them not sharing his toys.

But you got the feeling, as you dozed off in the stairs, that everything would be alright.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

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rebelwith0utacause · 4 years

Text

La Petite Mort

I started writing this a month ago, got stuck on 300 words and thought I might never finish it. Here we are, beginning of June, and it’s finally done, all 3.4K of it.

Warnings: Don’t read it if you’re underage, can’t handle smut and bad writing or if you’re Michael Clifford.

I got the idea listening to A Little Death by The Neighbourhood one day. Go check out the song if you haven’t already. It’s one of my faves.

You can also find it on ao3. Let me know what you think. and please don’t let it flop.

It was supposed to be a quiet affair, a way to get rid of their demons, to let them fly for the night. They were no strangers to it, the taboo and the darker side of their passion meant that they had to hide in the shadows. It was easier in a way, shadows cloaked emotions, making any attraction feel hazy and unsure until it completely vanished in the morning.

Not that you’d ever spent the morning with him. It was a wonder that you’d even met up on multiple occasions. That’s not how the system worked. You were given one chance at a scene, meant to be an outlet, not a dating site. But you fit so well that first time, you knew you had to see him again.

It started out with an occasional DM on Twitter, every couple of months. You would tell him what you needed, what your body and soul craved, he would tell you the location, and the time. You would show up, you would perform, exorcise your demons, go back home, rinse, repeat.

You never meant to get addicted, but there was something in his touch that liberated your soul. You knew it was one-sided, but that didn’t stop you from going back for more.

It was the end of November, an uncharacteristically cold weather had blown into town, the air smelled of snow and you decided that your fingers could use a pair of gloves. You quickened your steps. The neighborhood was neither bad, nor the greatest, but the streetlights were flickering and you started feeling the panic swell in the pit of your belly. The motel was in your sights, a flickering red sign above the main entry showed that there were a few rooms left vacant.

Entering the lobby finally set your nerves at ease. You’ve entered familiar territory.

There was a middle-aged man tending the front desk, his thinning hair glowing under the neon light. He was flicking through the pages of an old magazine, not paying too much attention to the sound of the bell when you opened the door. Really, he couldn’t even bother to look up.

“How can I help you?” was uttered under his nose, his eyes never leaving the glossy pictures. “I have a reservation for room number 7.” Your voice cracked at the “have”, not sure if it was the nerves or the lack of use. He swung around in his chair, grabbing the key from its allotted space and placing it on the desk, no “There you go.” no nothing.

Seen as he wasn’t very forthcoming, if you were being 100% honest, he was cold and insanely rude, you just grabbed the key and left the lobby. You pulled the lapels of your jacket a bit closer and hurried to get to your room. You only had half an hour to get ready.

You’ve done these scenes in almost any kind of environment, but the stagnant air and moldy waterpipes in motels had you feeling a certain way. You never claimed to understand why you liked the things that turned you on.

The first thing you had to do was set the scene. You were both lovers of 90’s aesthetics, so the outdated furniture and yellow lighting in the room were perfect. You took off your clothes, making sure to leave your white cotton set on. It was going to get destroyed anyway, so there was no point in wearing fancy underwear - his words, not yours. Come to think of it, it might had something to do with the fact that it made you look almost virginal, and it felt like he was corrupting you time and time again.

Folding your clothes one by one, you set them in your backpack and hid it in the bathroom, leaving your old self behind. You took the bedcovers off the queen-sized bed and the pillows on the nearby chair, you knew he might need them at one point. Hiking your knee on the mattress, you settled in the middle on your back, eyes closed, hands clasped on your tummy, waiting. And you didn’t have to wait for long.

You heard the creak as the door opened, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. It was one of your demands. You didn’t want to know who he was, it was easier that way, you could fantasize about the possibilities of it being anyone on the street. You could hear the soft sounds of his footsteps as he approached your lying form. “Up.” It was a signal for you to lift your head as he wrapped a scarf over your eyes. The bed dipped as his knee came to rest behind you, securing the knot and doing quick work of braiding your hair. At first, it freaked you out, but you soon came to realize that it meant he could do less damage to your scalp when he pulled, and he liked to pull on it quite a lot.

His cold fingers trailed from the bottom of your braid to your sides, making you squirm in your seat. He’d warm them up on your skin soon enough. You could hear and feel his soft exhales in your left ear, followed by the feel of his beard on your neck as he trailed kisses on your skin.

“Are you ready?” The only answer you dared give him was the tiniest nod.

Both of his hands moved between your thighs, gripping them and parting your legs as wide as they would go. His left hand found your clothed breast, roughly grabbing a handful and squeezing a moan out of you. The tips of his right hand found their way on top of your cotton panties, middle finger pressing lightly between your slit, dampening the material with your juices.

It was only an interlude, you knew that he was here on a mission to wreck you, but the intimacy of it all prickled at your soul.

You felt his whole demeanor change, his breath evening out and his muscles flexing against your body. The hand grabbing your tit moved to grab your neck, no pressure yet, he was just using his thumb and index finger to guide you against him. The one petting your pussy moved to bunch up the material of your panties and pull it up, giving you an uncomfortable wedgie but stimulating your clit at the same time. Your only response was a strangled wheeze.

“You like that? Like having strangers feel you up?” He released your neck. “Look at you. A whimpering mess and we haven’t even started yet.” You suddenly felt a light tapping on your clothed clit, increasing in force and intervals, making your head fall back on his shoulder, moaning at the slight pain.

And that’s what you were here for, the pain. You knew that he had loads of it in store for you. He grabbed your braid, maneuvering you around until your head was pressed on the bed and your thighs were spread on both sides of his knee, ass high in the air. Same as before, he bunched the material of your panties and pulled, leaving the globes of your ass bare for his eyes only. His other hand grabbed your right cheek, roughly squeezing it upwards and away, getting a peek of your puckered hole. It disappeared and came back before you could even blink behind the scarf, the resounding thwack of his palm on your ass chasing the chill away. He repeated the same motion a few times until the bottom of your ass was rosy and you were silently begging for more.

There was a ripping sound in the stillness of the room as he roughly pulled your panties. They were left to sit in ruins on your thighs as his middle finger came to inspect your leaking pussy. The whole thing looked so bad but felt so right at the same time. You were nothing but a broken puppet in his hands and you were never sure if he was trying to fix you or fuck you up beyond repair.

The pressure was building in your lower belly, his knee pressing against your bladder and his calloused finger strumming your clit, catching it with his blunt nails time and time again. Just when you thought that you might enter another dimension, his finger disappeared only to be brought back in the form of a hard hit on your pussy.

“Not so fast.”

You were impatient, but that’s not how you won this game. You felt the bed move with him, falling flat on your belly. He, once again, used your braid as a handle to position you right. You were lying like that for a few seconds or a few minutes, you couldn’t tell. The panties were off, the bra was lying somewhere on the floor and your feet were cuffed in metal rings. You recognized the familiar immobility caused by the spreader bar, holding your feet from locking together. He bound your hands in leather and left them to rest on the bed above your head. The bed dipped between your knees as he situated his body behind you, pulling on your hips, grinding your naked ass on his denim-covered crotch. You kept rotating your hips, working yourself up and stretching lazily like a cat. It was almost desperate, the need for contact so great, you would do anything for him. But he had other plans.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop making a mess? You’re such an infuriating little slut.”

He left you on the bed, tears of frustration slowly gathering behind your eyelids as you waited for any sort of stimulation. You heard the whoosh before you felt the tiny licks of pain on your back. So he decided to use the cat this time, the tiny leather knots deliciously digging in your skin. He was warming you up, knowing you needed to have a bit of pain before you reached nirvana, but ever so careful not to break the skin.

Minutes turned into eternity. Your thoughts had fled your mind. You could only feel the warmth and produce incoherent noises in different pitch. Hit after hit like tiny water droplets before the deluge. Somewhere in that not-here-nor-there space of yours, you didn’t hear the buzzing, or maybe the blood rush to your head drowned the noise. But the tiniest vibration from the wand had you shattering to pieces.

You held your breath, the scream lodged in your throat, saliva dripping on the sheets in front of you, your entire body shaking from the orgasm, your knees barely holding you up. He could only chuckle from the side, knowing that this was only the first of many that night.

He let you breathe for a while, seeing the curve of your back dip and flatten as you tried to get yourself together was a huge turn on, if the bulge straining against his jeans was anything to go by. The next time he approached, he decided to forego the whip, but kept the wand close by, just in case. He was back between your knees, hands hugging your lower back, bending you even further. His roughened hands traveled the expanse of your reddened back, making sure you still felt the phantom pain from the cat-o-nine tails. His face was in front of you, taking in the scent of your arousal before flattening his tongue on your lips. You felt the vibrations of his moan more than his actual voice, but it was over before it began.

You heard a click and felt the coldness of the lube between your cheeks. He used his middle finger to spread it on the rim and started applying steady pressure. You’ve done this before so you knew that it was time to relax and push back, allowing entry. He was working you up, slowly opening your hole to fit two of his fingers. After he was satisfied with the progress he made, he took them out and slowly replaced them with a lubed up princess plug. The metal felt heavy inside of you, but not entirely uncomfortable, and if you were being honest with yourself, it made you feel special knowing that there’s a sparkly button attached to your ass. He pulled on it a few times, making sure you were comfortable with it before leaning down and giving the clear zircon a kiss.

The incredibly tender moment was cut short when both of his palms landed hard on your cheeks. He liked seeing the contrast between your fire red flesh and the cool fake crystal handle, so much so, he couldn’t stop playing with your ass, jiggling the metal device with every squeeze.

It never occurred to you that you could cum from such a little amount of stimulation, but you were almost there. You were moaning the motel down and somewhere in that sex haze of yours you thought you might have heard a thump or two from the neighboring wall, but you couldn’t care less. Not when the wand was back on your clit, and definitely not when you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. He wasn’t being extremely gentle either. He knew you thrived on the overstimulation, pressing the pads of his fingers on your g-spot harshly, almost feeling mechanical. He was a conductor and he knew how to orchestrate your body, your moans and screams the most beautiful symphony. You thought that you would end with a dramatic crescendo, but the music sheet had a few more pages left.

His fingers left you, the wand went down at the same time as his zipper. He didn’t bother to push his pants down, just opened them enough to pull his, very hard and very ready, dick out. You heard the crinkle of the condom packet being ripped and felt the latex on you. He was rubbing his cock between your cheeks, gathering as much of your juices and lube on him before he entered you. The novelty never wore off. It didn’t matter what he did to you beforehand, it was always a tight fit, the stretch bordering pain and pleasure.

You felt full at last, the double penetration making you mewl like a cat in heat, the moan slowly rising up in volume until you did nothing but scream. Each time he moved his hips against yours sounded like thunder in your ears, the plug going deeper and deeper inside you. You tried to hold off as much as possible, but it was a losing battle.

One extremely forceful push had you collapsing on the bed, blissed out. He was chasing after his own orgasm, covering your body with his. The only indication that he was a tall man was the fact that when he laid like this, his chin would almost reach the top of your head. But you didn’t mind the weight, in fact, it almost made you feel protected.

The bed dipped to your left, he must’ve put his hand in front of you for leverage because his other was busy shoving three fingers in your mouth. You had your eyes closed, making sure you produced enough spit to lube his digits so you didn’t notice the moment the scarf shifted, freeing a tiny sliver for your eyes to see. He took those fingers, bringing his hand to your already wrecked pussy, finding purpose in playing with your clit. The sensation was too much, revving you up one last time. One final push had you coming hard, milking his cock for every last drop, vision going black, and the sight of a familiar finger tattoo making your heart painfully clench.

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It was New Year’s Eve and you were on a mission. The Christmas lights were on, the finger food was on the table and the guests were about to arrive. There was no dress code, you just told them to dress comfortably. It was a small event, you didn’t have many friends to begin with, courtesy of always working, but you did have a growing circle of people who loved video games as much as you.

You were slowly becoming a tight-knit family, getting together for game nights and the occasional drinks, and you liked it, you didn’t need more interaction. You were, however, extremely happy when one of your gamer buddies gave you a bit of his attention. Where you were generally talkative and friendly, he was your polar opposite, deciding to stay in his shy shell until he felt comfortable enough to speak. You knew he had a good soul, you just never knew what to expect from him. The only time his real self decided to come out was when he was in the middle of a game.

But you did in fact know a little bit more about him than you were letting off. He was in your apartment now, scanning the place for an empty corner to hide in. You couldn’t help but admire him, a tiny ball of lust wound tight in your lower belly. He looked so good in a pair of light blue jeans and a white tee, covered by a red plaid shirt. The tattoos peeking beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves and the whole grungy look were such a contrast to his shy self, it almost made you laugh, that is, until you realized that you might have cum a few times from rubbing yourself sore on the coarse denim of his jeans.

The advantage of playing host was that you always had an excuse to go up to people and strike up a conversation. You let him relax for a bit, though. Cornering him right off the bat might do more harm. But you were done playing this game of cat and mouse, where the cat was in fact a kitty and the mouse was a Pit Bull in disguise and you wanted to know what was his endgame.

You found him in the kitchen by himself, licking some pizza sauce from his fingers. “Oh, hey Michael, didn’t expect to see you here. Too crowded?” You pointed behind you at the party, eyes zoned in on his Adam’s apple moving as he gulped. He looked a bit startled but he wasn’t cowering like you expected him to. “Yeah, you know me, not much of a team player.” You knew that wasn’t the full truth because whenever he tried to hide something, he would try to fix his already perfectly styled bleached fringe.

There were layers to his personality, and he was never game to show them all at once, but you were willing to unravel him. You were thankful for once that your kitchen was tiny so it only took you a couple steps to reach his side. Before you could chicken out, you grabbed his left hand and brought it up for inspection. He tried to pull it away, but you were having none of that. “You know Mikey, I never really asked you what this tattoo’s about, and I’ve been meaning to for a while now.” He still looked uncomfortable, but the way your thumb kept rubbing over the circle and three dots engraved on his middle finger was making his eyes dilate. “You like it?” His tone was no longer shy, and you could finally understand why you never put two and two together. Turned on Michael was speaking in a low, almost gravelly voice, completely unrecognizable from his usual higher-pitched tones. And now he knew you knew. And there was no escaping it.

“I liked it better when it was disappearing into my pussy.” You whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. You knew you were trying to act tough, but the moment he wound his fingers in your hair and pulled, you knew that you’d always be putty in his hands. “Don’t forget your place, pet.” he breathed out. “You don’t get to top from the bottom. I could easily bend you over the table in front of all of our friends and have your ass red if I wanted to.” And you knew that he would. He detangled himself from you, leaving you turned on and confused in the middle of the kitchen.

The party was dying down. There were a few stragglers left, their silhouettes hazy in your vodka-Sprite-induced vision. A new year has begun and for once you dared yourself to make a wish. Little did you know that once everyone left, a certain 90’s enthusiast would make all of your wishes come true, and then some, only this time you could look into his green eyes while you died a little death.

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niall-the-churchboy · 4 years

Text

The Better One - pt 2 ~ Louis Tomlinson

In which she finally knows she’s enough.

Pt1 is here

Warnings: Swearing and kinda angsty

Word Count: 1500

Y/n had grow up with a bunch of stuff that meant absolutely nothing. She had her own room, her own clothes, but all she had really wanted was to be heard at the dinner table. So, when she was eight, she came up with the idea of jokes. She had never been the funny type, but she believed that if she made them laugh they would at least listen to what she had to say. It worked, for a year or so, and then they eventually became tired of it. She then tried arts and crafts, if her family could see she was good at it they would pay more attention, but again it didn't really work. Eventually, she decided that the only way her parents would pay attention to her was if she got good grades, and that's how it began. Massive amounts of work, almost perfect grades, and a lot of pressure in herself.

All Y/n had ever wanted was to matter, and when Louis came, she didn't even have to try. Louis had been everything to Y/n, her motivation; her rock; the bare reason she smiled. It’s needless to say that when he left, when he chose better than her, everything crumpled.

When she flew back, she took less than an hour to pack her things in a suitcase, and another thirty minutes to take in every single detail of the apartment. She knew it was bad for her, but there was nothing more she wished than to have Louis back with her; hanging christmas lights on the christmas tree days before the trip, maybe convincing him that it was better to stay here, in their cosy apartment as they drank hot chocolate. That's when she remembered, one hand tightly secured in one of the suitcase’s straps, that it was christmas.

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

It took two weeks to find a new apartment in the heart of San Diego, out of LA but still close enough so whenever she wanted she could go back and remember the golden times.

But life in San Diego was one full of misery. Y/n L/n, the girl that used to be so organised and so perfect, was long gone replaced by one who stopped caring. She finally understood that if no one care about her, why should she? She was boring and dull, not intelligent neither beautiful, she was not enough.

Her money became scarce, so she began to eat less, and when the pennies finally finished she moved apartments to an old filthy one while she worked at a coffee shop. If she wasn't a disgrace now, then, what was she?

“Happy first day of summer, Y/n!”, her coworker, a girl with violet hair named Emma, greeted her.

Summer. Had it really been half a year without Louis? The word suddenly had a new meaning, and soon every word would turn out to be just the same.

What Y/n didn't expect was to come home from work--her t-shirt stained with coffee-- and find Avery siting on the small couch. It was such a shock her bag fell from her shoulder earning the attention from Avery.

“Y/n!”, Avery came running towards Y/n, a huge smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around her sister’s small frame.

“I- what are you doing here?”, it felt strange looking at Avery, she wore clean skinny jeans and had her hair perfectly curled and... Avery was pregnant, hugely pregnant.

Guilt came rushing in and Y/n could now only tilt her head down and apologise. How dare she not be there for her sister?

“I looked for you everywhere!”, Avery replied watching as her sister picked up the bag and rushed to the small open kitchen, “And now I finally found you! I-”, Avery looked around, “Your apartment was unlock so I figured I would let myself in. At first I didn't think this could be your apartment but then I saw our picture and...” Y/n turned to look at the picture laying on the counter, a trip her whole family did a long time ago, Y/n was probably twelve at the time.

She looked down, saw the coffee stain and opened the sink tap. “I am really sorry, Avery”, she said as she tried to scrub the stain away, “I was working and I spilled coffee all over my shirt and...”, she looked around her apartment, had she cleaned the floors this week? And the pillows on her couch had not been flattened out, everything was a mess. “I am really sorry for this huge mess, I swear It’s not like this usually”, it was a big lie but Y/n didn’t know what else to say.

Finally giving up on her shirt she run to the small living room at the corner of her open apartment, flattened the pillows and picked up a left glass that was laying on the coffee table, “Please, Avery. Take a sit”, Y/n gestured to the couch and rushed back to the kitchen, “Would you like anything to eat? I’m not sure I have many things in the fridge but there's a marketplace down the street and I could go buy you something right now”, Y/n felt her eyes burn.

“Y/n, calm down, its okay”, Avery was surprised to see her younger sister in this state, realising how thin Y/n looked, “please sit down next to me.” Y/n was unsure, she knew the adequate thing was to invite her sister to eat something, but she was tired and all of a sudden she felt helpless. “I’ve missed you so much”, Avery cupped Y/n’s hands, examining at how her younger sister would nod her head shyly, not daring to look at her.

“I’ve missed you too, and I’m really sorry I-”, Y/n lifted her head and fixated her eyes on her sister’s tummy, “I wasn’t there. I should have been, I didn’t have any right to disappear.”

“I called you a million times”, Avery said, a frown forming in her face as she watched Y/n’s tears run down, “mom did too, but you never answered. For a moment I thought you were--”

“--No”, Y/n didn't let Avery finish, she looked at her sister so vulnerable for the first time ever, “I don't know why I did that..., I’m sorry. I just thought that it was better if I stopped getting in-between people’s lives. I only wanted what was best for you, mom and dad, and Tessa and Louis...”, the last words where barely audible.

“To hell Tessa!”, Avery raised her voice, “and Louis! Look at you Y/n, living here; working at a coffee shop; barely standing on your legs... What about you? Why didn’t you think about what was better for you?”

“Why should I care?!”, Y/n stood up from the couch, tears--no streams-- running down her face, her legs shaking slightly as she looked at a worried Avery, “Why should I care? No one ever did, and that's alright. I’m fine with that, I learned how to be fine with it.” Y/n sighed, a weary breath escaping her lips, “and you should stop worrying, Avery. Everyone is okay, I’m perfectly fine, you’re pregnant! And Tessa is happy with Louis--”

“--Tessa and Louis broke up”, Avery mumbled, aware of the fact that Y/n had to grab the back of the couch to sturdy herself.

“Why?”

“She came home two months ago, angry as ever. It seems that she wasn't what Louis expected her to be...”, Avery shook her head, “but it doesn't matter, I’m so done with Tessa and her stupid ego.”

“Don’t”, Y/n licked her lips, her heart clenching, “don't say that, you know it's not true, Tessa is--”

“--Tessa is bad and cruel! She stole your boyfriend for fucks sake! She had always been mean toward you! How are you not angry about this?!”, Avery couldn't understand how could someone be so empathic that had completely stop thinking about itself. “When did you turn into this?”

Y/n sat down again, brushed down her tears and tried to smile, “I think I’ve always been like this, I just used to be better at hiding it. I’m sorry.”

“Stop blaming everything on you. It harms you, can’t you see?”, Avery cupped her sister’s face, Y/n closing her eyes at the warm feeling of Avery’s hands. “And I know you probably think that you are not enough, but that’s a lie. You are beautiful Y/n, inside out, you are talented, and unique, and you are my sister. I care about you, I’m sorry for whatever reason that made you believe I didn't, but I’m telling you now, I care about you. And I know that a hole bunch of people do too, because that’s what you do, you are lovable.”

Sometimes, what you need are just words to make thing slightly brighter, to give you a small push in the right direction. Now, Y/n wrapped around her sister’s arms, knows she’s worth it, and whatever made her feel otherwise has to get out of her way now, because the true golden times are just about to begin.

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

Yeah, this was shit, I'm sorry I just thought I should at leats update something.

Masterlist is here

#louistomlinson #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louistomlinsonimagine #louis tomlinson one shot #one direction #one direction fandom #one direction fanfiction #one direction preferences #one direction one shot #onedirectionfandom #1d fandom #1dfamily #one direction 2020 #one direction reunion

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

i wanna know what love is - 09

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex

A/N: sebastian’s performance is inspired by pour some sugar on me scene in rock of ages and a few scenes of bat out of hell (i’ve linked both if you guys are interested). fun fact, the lipstick and nail polish y/n is wearing in this chapter is emblématique by chanel which is one of my favourite combos ever. i’ve been so happy to receive your feedback, it just always makes my day. thank you so much everyone xx

Last Chapter // Next Chapter

Sebastian woke up with the loud sound of bass reverberating through the wall. He lifted his torso, looking at the TV where Pulp Fiction was playing and then to the wall he’d had her pinned last night. At the memory of that, the memory of her hands reaching for him before the employee interrupted and he ran off, he bolted off the bed and rushed over to her bedroom, pushing open the double door but coming face to face with nothing. She wasn’t in, her bed was made an her pyjamas were nicely folded and laying on top of her bed.

He closed the door behind him and walked over to the entry room. His bandmates were rehearsing one of his beginning songs. Sebastian looked at the room expecting to see Y/N sat somewhere with her ridiculous yellow coloured notepad and an unholy amount of disposable cameras.

- Hey, where’s Y/N? - Sebastian asked through the loud sounds of drums, bass and guitars, and, surprisingly, still was heard by Fred, who removed his headphones, placing them over their neck. - She’s nowhere to be found.

- She’s out with Mary. - Fred said, a nice smile on his face that his wife finally had someone other than them to hang out with.

- Great, I need to talk to her. - he grabbed his jacket from the holder, putting it over his pyjamas, not even caring he was still shirtless and wearing his sleeping trousers that had holes where trousers shouldn’t have holes. However, showing up in pyjamas in public wouldn’t be the worse thing he ever did. - Where did they go?

- Hey, man, calm down. - Anthony took over, placing a hand over his shoulder before he bolted off into Las Vegas. - We have a show today, you have to rehearse. The girls are gonna be at the venue tonight and then you can speak with Y/N.

- Yeah besides she’s been stuck with us for almost a month, she needs a bit of girl time. - Michael added, throwing Sebastian the microphone which he caught mid air. - Besides, you’re sober for rehearsal and we’re not gonna miss that.

On the other hand, Mary had taken Y/N to The Grand Canal Shoppes which she had hoped would blow her mind. Mary was right, Y/N was stunned at a shopping centre with a full blown built in canal with canoes. The shopping centre itself had been built like a pre-French revolution castle and the stores Mary was walking in had things that could buy her whole studio flat in NY.

However, Y/N’s mind was still on Sebastian and how he had kissed her yesterday. She shouldn’t have allowed this, she knew what type of man he was yet when he did it she couldn’t help but reciprocate the favour.

- Isn’t this cute? - Mary held a black stretch jersey corset dress from Burberry, calling for Y/N’s attention. Y/N’s eyes scanned the dress, it was a beautiful dress. Not exactly something she would pick as she didn’t go out enough to use that or had enough money to pay for it. - C’mon, try it on.

- No, I mean, it’d look better on you anyway. - Y/N did not want to let out she couldn’t afford the dress, she had already paid for a highly expensive breakfast so there was nothing on her bank account saying that she could afford a new collection Burberry dress.

- C’mon, Y/N. The other girls are never around when I come in besides we have a show today and we need to look good. Consider it a gift from me to you, please. - she held the dress against Y/N’s chest, pushing her to the dressing room. - Besides, if you want to get Sebastian’s attention you can’t dress like Little Boo Peep.

- What? - Y/N said before being pushed into the dressing room and being told to dress. How did Mary know about Sebastian? Had he told her? Had he told the boys who then went to tell her? Was she a mind reader? Who knew. After Y/N was done with her thoughts, she had already put the dress on and she couldn’t help but notice the difference from her others dresses to this dress. This dress looked like it had been sewn on her, showing all her curves and all her assets. She came out of the dressing room and before Mary could even start speaking compliments she went in strong. - How do you know me and Sebastian kissed?

- I don’t, you just told me. I did know he had a soft spot for you but I did not know how far it had gone. - Mary walked her over to the big mirror, holding her shoulders. - You look gorgeous.

- What do you mean soft spot? - Y/N spoke, her hands smoothing over the fabric. Sebastian did not have a soft spot for her, he’d spent the past month poking fun of her clothing and not answering her questions. For Mary, however, who’d known Sebastian since the beginning it looked obvious.

- Well, for starters he gave up his room in the bus for you and last night he was so red I thought he’d might explode.

- But he has a room in the bus, I got the one on the lower ground floor. He has the whole second floor for himself.

- No, the second floor is for rehearsing. His bedroom is your bedroom, I know that because I’ve caught him with several girls in there. - Mary said, carefully handing out her card to one of the employees. - But let’s not talk about boys, Y/N.

After a lot of bickering between the two girls, Y/N eventually took the dress with the promise that she would give it back once she became a big shot lawyer. They spent most of their time in one of the restaurants of the WestGate until they decided to go back to the villa. The band had already left to do a soundcheck so the girls had enough time to get ready. Y/N did not recognise herself in the mirror. She was always used to get ready quite quickly and not really care much but right now here she was, wearing a very expensive beautiful dress, high heels and putting on her very favourite lipstick and nail polish. It had been a gift from her parents once she entered university and she had forever cherished it.

She came out of the room to see Mary putting her shoes on while holding a file in her hand. Mary was a lawyer, a very good one too, and following Fred she would bring work into everything and still have the best time of her life. It was almost entertaining to Y/N how people from different sides of the work spectrum had come together.

The two girls walked to the lobby where a very nice car was waiting for them and Y/N could no longer picture herself going back to her studio flat in NY, paying stupid amounts for a single bagel. Now she understood why the 1% did everything to remain relatable.

They reached the venue in a few minutes where a huge queue was already waiting to enter and get a sight of the band. Mary and Y/N, however did not wait in the queue. Mary took her to a small black door in the back being guarded by a guard who smiled once he saw her.

- Hello, William. How are we doing, tonight? - Mary asked, grabbing a few passes from another man, handing one to Y/N.

- I’m very alright, Mrs. Mary and how are you doing tonight?

- Buzzing, first time I have the company of someone who doesn’t want to speak about new breast pumps or tummy time. - Mary shook Y/N’s shoulder making her smile. - This is Y/N Wiley, she’s from Rolling Stone.

- Very nice to meet you, Miss. - he shook Y/N’s hand and opened the door for them. Mary rushed through the hallway along with Y/N before rushing the right front of the stage.

Y/N couldn’t help but be stunned at the venue. It looked just like what her father and mother used to say they looked whenever they went to do their own articles. The band still wasn’t on stage but she could see the venue starting to fill up with people screaming their names.

The band was in the back, tuning their instruments and getting into their outfits, preparing for another show. Sebastian kept peeking at the audience to see if he could get a peak of Mary or Y/N but all he could see was darkness as the lights were still off.

- Hey Sebastian, c’mon. Band circle. - Michael patted him in the back before they placed their hands in a circle, while some assistants put their sound ear plugs on their ears.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the song begin and the light started to flicker. Sebastian walked into stage, leather trousers, leather jacket and no shirt which made Y/N’s cheeks go red, making her thank the dim lighting on her. She had to admit he knew how to command a room and specially the attention out of everyone. He threw his jacket onto the audience, a bunch of girls shrieking to get it as he wrapped the cord of the microphone loosely around his neck, singing his heart out.

Mary elbowed Y/N in her side, forcing her to dance out, by raising her arms in the air. She had to admit she was having fun, but at the same time she couldn’t take her eyes out of him. He was electrifying, too much. The show finished and a row of people screamed out as they left the room and before Y/N’s could recover from that, Mary was pushing her backstage.

She rushed into the arms of her husband, kissing him like no tomorrow as she stood behind to knowing what to do. She gave Fred a smile as she noticed her and as she was about to find somewhere to sit when someone came behind her, raising her into a hug, she turned her head to see Sebastian who set her on the floor once the rest of the band gave them a confused look.

- You were fantastic. - Y/N said playing with her bracelet.

- You look fantastic. - he took a good look at her, from head to toe. - Where’s the white dress?

- Mary got this for me. It’s worth my whole flat. - she said making him laugh at her incredulous look.

- Hey Y/N, let’s get some drinks. - Mary pushed on her arm.

- Wait, when you return I need to speak to you okay. - Sebastian said and she nodded as Mary walked her over to the bar, blurting out a series of drinks that Y/N never heard about. Anyway, all she could think was about Sebastian and what he could possibly want. Mary gave her a short smile, noticing that her friend was stuck in the middle of her thoughts.

- That was some hug. - she commented, holding herself on her elbow on the bar top. - You gotta tell me what you guys discuss afterwards. Meet me in my room, girls night.

- It’s probably about Rolling Stone’s article.

- With that dress, it is probably shagging.

- Mary! - Y/N’s cheeks warmed up. Mary grabbed the tray from the bartender and started to walk to the back to meet the boys, laughing with Y/N. The sight Y/N saw a few feet away from her however made her stop laughing. She saw Sebastian leaned against the wall, a cigarette stuck in the middle of his lips as a girl had her arms on top of his shoulders.

She took a step backwards, her stomach hurting by the mere sight of what she had just seen. Mary noticing this followed her line of sight, her face twisting in disgust as she placed the tray on the stage.

- Let’s go, honey. It’s boring here anyway. - Mary patted her on the shoulders taking her phone to text Fred they were leaving.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan AU

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Note

Lucy being Daniel's shadow ~T

So sweet 🥺

Nine Months

As you might have read in Lucy’s character profile, she was obsessed with Daniel from pretty much the moment she was born. Florence loved that her daughters loved their father but with their third and final kid, she couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous when Daniel was the only one who could soothe her most nights. But it was still so sweet to see Lucy’s chubby little grin whenever Daniel came in to pick her up from her crib, her crying basically halted from the moment she laid her head on his shoulder.

But even during the day, she would pull herself up in her playpen in the living room, tiny hands clinging onto the sides, her big blue eyes following Daniel’s every move no matter where he went. God forbid he left the room, earning a desperate shout from the baby,

“Dada!”

But being out of her playpen meant she had free rein of the apartment and when he would get up from the couch to grab a glass of water, Lucy would be dropping her toys and crawling right after him. Thank God he never stepped on her, always on high alert for the active little baby, and her gentle coos from the ground got him looking down at her as she set a hand on his foot with pride.

“What are you doing, princess?” Daniel laughed, watching as she rolled back onto her bum and clapped for herself before raising her chubby hands up to him.

“Dada!”

“Oh my goodness, Lucy baby.” Daniel always picked her up when she asked, setting her on his hip as he finished getting himself his drink. “You’re too much.”

Eighteen Months

Lucy learned to walk at eleven months, meaning by eighteen months she was an expert on her feet. This gave her ample freedom to go where she pleased – which meant wherever Daniel went. From the moment he would get home from work, Lucy would come rushing to the front hall to greet him along with her sisters, arms held up to him to be picked up. Of course, he would scoop her up and carry her into the apartment with her cheek pressed against his and a wide grin on her face.

“Someone missed you.” Florence chuckled as he leaned in to kiss her hello.

“I know!” Daniel cooed at the toddler in his arms, ticking her tummy to get her to laugh. “Did you miss me, Lucy-Lu?”

Lucy nodded eagerly and looped her arms around his neck.

He set her on the couch with her sisters who were watching tv with their after-school snacks, “Stay with your sisters while I clean up from work, okay?”

Florence kept an eye on their youngest as Daniel took his things down the hall to the master bedroom, watching how Lucy peered down the hallway after him. She turned her back for like one second and when she looked back to the living room, Lucy was gone.

“Lucy!” Florence called with a sigh, following after her daughter.

The toddler was already letting herself into the bedroom at the end of the hall, rushing past the guitar case and backpack left on the floor towards the closed bathroom door. She was just tall enough to reach the door handle and she pulled it down and let herself in.

“Dada.” Lucy grinned at him.

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel gaped at her, thankfully only having made it to undo his belt and nothing else before he was completely walked in on by the toddler, and he sighed with near embarrassment, “Lucy Elizabeth, what are you doing?”

“Dada! Up, please!” she raised her grabby hands up to him.

Florence finally came in, scooping up their youngest with a tired sigh, “Come here, you. Daddy needs his privacy.”

“No!” Lucy whined, reaching out to him with a pout.

“Looks like we gotta start locking doors.” Florence said.

“Apparently.” Daniel scoffed, pushing a hand over Lucy’s light hair. “Little troublemaker.”

Two Years

They figured it would lessen with time and Lucy would stop needing to be everywhere Daniel was but even by age two, she always wanted to be by his side. Before then, it was just a sweet infatuation that really wasn’t hurting anyone and it was actually quite cute to be honest. Until it wasn’t.

Their little family of five had gone to the lakeside for a bit of a picnic and spent the whole afternoon down there. By evening, Daniel was packing up the car while Florence got the girls buckled into their car seats. She made the mistake of putting Lucy in last as the two-year-old was curious about what Daniel was doing and walked right up behind him to watch him set the cooler in the trunk. She was so quiet about it that he didn’t even see her and when he took a step back to close the car, he tripped right over her.

He lost his balance as he stumbled over his own feet trying not to take her down with him as he fell right backwards and hit the pavement hard.

“Daniel!” Florence gasped, rushing over to him laying splayed out on the hard ground. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Daniel groaned, carefully pushing himself into a sitting position and winced as he held his cut up palms out in front of him. “Shit.”

Lucy stood staring wide eyed and innocent, unharmed, at her father on the ground.

He got up carefully, making sure he was still generally in one piece, and Florence helped him lean against the car as she took out a water bottle to rinse over his hands.

“What happened?” Florence asked.

“I tripped over our kid.” Daniel grumbled quietly.

Florence bit back a smile.

“Don’t laugh. I could have crushed her.” Daniel frowned, wincing in pain as he stretched out his hand.

“Did you forget you had a shadow?”

“A shadow.” Daniel chuckled at the nickname, looking past her to Lucy who was still nearly in shock at watching her 6’1” father fall down. “Yeah, I guess I did forget I had a shadow.”

He bent down to her height and she scurried over to hug him as Florence put away the empty water bottle.

“Gotta tell me when you’re sneaking up on me like that, princess.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to Lucy’s head.

“Are you okay?” Clementine asked from the backseat, peering through the trunk at them.

“Yeah, we’re just fine.” Daniel said.

“I think Daddy needs ice cream to feel better though. What do you girls think?” Florence suggested. The girls cheered in agreement.

Three Years

With the older two girls in full time school by the time Lucy was three, it gave the parents a bit more time with their youngest. Florence had brought Lucy to the studio one day to take Daniel out for lunch and he was more than excited to show them what he had been working on. He was sat at the switch board, Jack stood beside him with a Red Bull in hand and Daniel queued up their recent project.

The music came through the surround sound speakers and both Daniel and Jack had huge proud grins over their work. Lucy reached up a little hand over the side of the switch board, but Daniel pushed it gently away.

“No touching. Just listening.” he instructed gently.

Lucy stared up at him as the song cut off and he reached for one of the many colourful buttons on the board to stop it.

“What’d you think?” Daniel turned to Florence.

“It sounds really good so far.” she praised sweetly, leaning down to kiss him once.

“Do I get a kiss too?” Jack asked.

Their laughter was cut off by a shriek of mic feedback and the adults whipped around to see Lucy stood on her tip-toes and reaching up to press recklessly at a bunch of buttons.

“No, no, no, no, no, Lucy Lu.” Daniel pulled her back quickly. “No touching.”

“Me too!” Lucy whined, as he pulled her onto his lap and switched the board back to where it was before.

He held her hands on her lap as he and Jack spoke about what was next for the song. Lucy watched them press a few buttons as they replayed some of their project, the colourful board of lights and sounds and switches absolutely mesmerizing to the three-year-old.

“Daddy!” Lucy cried, trying to pry her hands from his snug grip, wiggling to try and get out of his grasp.

“Come here, you.” Florence pulled her off his lap and set her on the couch with a colouring book and crayons, “Draw a nice picture for Daddy, okay?”

The three adults went back to the board and Jack and Daniel continued discussing their goals for the song and what the project manager was expecting. It didn’t last long before messy piano notes filled the studio space and they all looked up to see Lucy through the window on her knees on the piano bench, poking away at the keys.

“Oh, my gosh, you look away for ten seconds and she runs off.” Florence grumbled as Daniel jumped up to retrieve their daughter.

Jack and Florence watched as he picked her up and set her on his hip before leaning down to punch out a quick one-handed tune on the piano, making Lucy grin. He returned to the other side of the wall and Lucy tried to wiggle out of his grip and reach for the soundboard again.

“I think it’s time for a lunch break.” Daniel suggested.

“Someone’s gonna take over the family business.” Jack chuckled.

“Most likely.” Florence agreed. “Lucy is his mini-me. Whatever he does, she does.”

She smiled softly at her husband and daughter, both of them trying to out-grin the other with huge smiles and scrunched closed eyes, until Daniel blew a raspberry into her neck and she shrieked with laughter. Lucy stuck out her tongue to try and mimic the sound, ending up just spewing spit over his face.

“Oh…nice…” Daniel cringed through a laugh, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Come on, you two.” Florence laughed, picking up her purse and the toddler’s sweater from the couch. They said their goodbyes to Jack, and Daniel sang his way to the elevator with Lucy trying to out-volume him from his arms.

“I’m thinking chicken nuggets for lunch.” Daniel said.

“Me too!” Lucy agreed.

“Really? Hm, I was actually thinking pizza.”

“Pizza! Yes!”

“Or maybe a cheeseburger.”

“Yeah!”

“Or fish.”

Lucy’s face fell a moment as she stared at him, “…Okay.”

“You really do copy me, don’t you?” Daniel chuckled, shooting a smile to Florence who returned it. “I’m just kidding, we’ll have chicken nuggets.”

Lucy pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and hugged him tightly.

#unedited as HECK #daniel seavey #why dont we #anything but mine

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years

Text

House Edge

Title: House Edge (COMPLETE)

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: You're on a Girls Trip to Vegas and meet a certain hunter at the buffet.

Word Count: 9,100

Warnings: fluff, flirting, gambling, strip club, private dance, mild language

A/N: My first reader insert try. I'm thinking this is sometime around Season 7. Maybe the annual pilgrimage to Vegas when Becky whammies Sam. The majority of events that unfold will probably be right before Dean gets the text from Sam to meet up with him. Thunder From Down Under probably wasn't at Vegas yet - who knows - artistic license and all that. Also, I don't have an extensive knowledge of gambling, so most of what you'll read is from what I've Googled. If something is terribly wrong, feel free to let me know. But, I tried to stay in the vague zone.

Your head pounded and sloshed from the one too many Malibu Bay Breezes you’d ingested during the “Thunder From Down Under” show that ended minutes ago. Three of the nine others in your group were still hooting and hollering at the oil slicked row of hyper muscled, surreal Australian blokes on stage. In addition to the baby oil, the men were bathing in the estrogen overload and accolades washing over them. Wads of cash, stuffed into the glittery floss substituting as underwear, stuck to aforementioned oil slicked skin.

It had been fun, there was no doubt. But the lights and the music and the rabid female reactions were hitting you all at once. Kasey pulled you by the elbow and screamed in your ear. “Wanna get a photo with Faux Fabio?” She pointed to the long-haired blond Adonis with a shoulder span the width of a football field.

You frowned. “How much is that going to run me?”

“Shannon!” Kasey called across the table, still too close to your delicate ear drums. “How much to rub up to one of ‘em?” You were glad you weren’t sharing a room with Kasey. She’d be hurling in the toilet for most of the night after the number of Tequila shots she’d downed. So far. And the night was relatively early. Especially for Vegas.

“Thirty bucks, I think.” Shannon shrugged, paying more attention to her phone.

You shook your head. Your single status and mid-level office job already had you on a strict budget for this girls’ getaway weekend. “I’m good. Besides, the more up close I get, the more disappointed I think I’ll be.” Shannon nodded with a smirk in agreement, still staring at her screen.

Kasey huffed. “Well, Linda, Stacey and Mira are already in line. I’m going to see if I can cut!” She dashed off without another word.

Women skirted and pushed past your standing frame. You tried to become one with the table in front of you. Anything to avoid being pulled into the stampede or thrown to the ground, and mercilessly stomped on by stilettos and sneakers.

Even Shannon looked a bit miffed at the onslaught as you stared at her in a half-cry for help. “My God.” She rolled her eyes.

“Where did Cathy and that bunch disappear to?” You yelled over.

“Who knows?”

You sighed. “What was next on the itinerary?”

“I think any plans are out the window. Every woman for herself.” Shannon tapped on her phone. “My little one’s running a fever. I’m going to get back to the hotel room so I can check in at home.”

You nodded. The only thing waiting for you at home was your tabby, Tyrion. Your Grandma-type neighbor down the hall, Gladys, had offered to cat sit. So there was no one, human or feline, actually waiting for you back in your one-bedroom apartment in Albuquerque.

Holding your breath, you pushed yourself into the crowd, moving against the current towards the exit instead of the line for photos. The quadruple threat of your old college pals was screaming in line about which stripper had the tightest ass.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a good time or ogle good looking men. Far from it. But gambling was more your scene anyway. You had a pretty good teacher with your last boyfriend when it came to Blackjack. You breathed a sigh of relief when you shimmied out of the entertainment venue and stepped foot onto the busy carpet of the Excaliber’s casino floor. Your phone read 9:10 pm. There was still plenty of time to lose your shirt.

You’d popped a few aspirin and downed a whole bottle of water in the sitting area of the women’s bathroom, hoping to fend off a killer hangover in the morning. A quick reapplication of lipstick and you were ready to scope out a good table.

After about an hour, you’d split, hit, and stood with the best of them at one table. There’d been one experienced player, Ron, that looked like he’d planted roots in the seat next to you. He got to talking, as the old timers usually did, and you’d learned he was born and raised in Reno. You had a nice little chat with Ron and Stevie, the female dealer, and fended off a few men who sat on the other side and hit on you more than the cards they were dealt.

“That is not a bad takeaway, there.” Ron nodded when you decided to cash out.

“Thanks. Pleasure, Ron. You take care.”

“You too, pretty lady. Remember what I said about Roulette. You should try it once.”

The betting chips clinked in your plastic souvenir cup. “I might.”

He tipped you a two-finger salute. You wandered, your stomach empty. The buffet to end all buffets calling your name.

“Fuck it.” After turning most of your chips into cash at the counter, leaving one $50 chip in your jean pocket, you headed for the International food amalgamation that guaranteed intense heartburn and bloating in the morning.

Fluorescent lights and sneeze shields presented you with choices beyond comprehension. You grabbed a large plate and planned your method of attack. One of your pink manicured nails tapped on the bottom of the china. “Ease into it.” You decided to go with the Mediterranean spread first. Before you knew it, there were helpings of General Tso’s chicken, pizza, potstickers, mashed potatoes and French fries, along with some bratwurst and sauerkraut. The grumbling from your tummy may have been a warning when you sat down at the table for two, alone, on the cafeteria style floor. The waitress gave you a tired smile when she dropped off your iced tea.

You shoveled some sauce drenched chicken into your mouth and took in the scene. People floating around, getting up for seconds or thirds, talking about how much money they lost or won, what shows they should try to see while they were in Vegas. You chewed and stared at the formidable back of a man at the table directly ahead of you. He’d give Faux Fabio a run for his money. He had fluffy, long brown hair. His animated storytelling hands got your attention. You heard a deep chuckle and slurp from his table sharer, out of your view because of the mountain man. “Alright,” the man stated, “Going to give the Poker Room another go. Coming?”

“Nah.” The very deep voice replied. “I’ve still gotta hit the dessert line.”

You watched the man rise from his seat, floored by how tall he was. And, when he turned, you saw how very cute he was. You’d have paid thirty bucks to snap a picture with this man. He gave you a sweet little smile when he walked past. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder and take in the rest of him as he left. Smacking your lips and shaking your head, you turned back to your plate to resume the dent made in the food. Your eyes darted up to look at the man left alone at the table. You were pretty sure your mouth gaped open at the sight of him, staring at you. He wiped at his face with a napkin.

Oh my. If the man that left appeared sweet and cute with just a smile, this one was a boatload of sexy and trouble with that smirk. You could tell by the way he took his time inventorying you with care, chewing slow the whole time. One side of his lip curled up in another grin variation. He nodded at you in greeting from across both tables. You smiled back and then pretended to stare at your food. He tossed the napkin on his plate and stood up. You peeked up and noted he was layered in a couple shirts and broken in jeans, like his partner. Not quite as tall; but, still very tall in your estimation. You wondered what he’d look like in a g-string and bathed in baby oil.

And, oh boy. He was walking straight over to your table. Yep, he was very tall, by the way you had to tilt your head backwards when he strolled up. He smacked his lips, disrupting the beaming smile before he spoke. “That was my little brother you were checking out. Want me to give you his number?”

You had to lean back in your seat a bit more. “Um. No, that’s okay.” Geez, he was pretty. Holy Facial Symmetry Batman!

He nodded, then smiled again. “Want to give me your number?”

You had to chuckle at the bravado. “Does that work for you a lot?”

He shrugged. “Works enough.”

“I don’t doubt it.” You decided to play along. “How long are you in Vegas?”

His brows rose up. “Just tonight.”

You tisked. “Not enough of a time commitment for what I’d want to do.”

He chuckled this time. “Is that so?”

You nodded.

He pointed to your plate. “Can I get you anything? I’m heading back up.”

“I think this should tide me over for a while. But, thanks.”

His jaw clenched. “Can I join you when I get back?”

What the hell. “Sure.” You smiled.

“Man, you almost kept up with me.” Dean sighed and rubbed his tummy after his third dessert plate.

“Hardly.” You were only working on your second serving of what might be considered actual food. A half hour had passed, you sitting with this veritable stranger. Talking about nothing of much importance, but having a grand time flirting, enjoying his rough and rugged demeanor and the boyish charm. One of your palms hit the tabletop. “I’m tapping out.”

“Not much for sweets?” He leaned in and studied you. Stunning green eyes twinkled with mischief. He batted the kind of lashes you could only get with a thick coating of mascara. “Or are you already sweet enough?”

“Is this like an Ocean’s Eleven thing?”

His smile dropped, waiting for you to elaborate. “Come again?”

“Am I like some unwitting part of a huge con job going down in the money room right now?”

He chuckled. “I’m not following, sweetheart.”

“Why are you sitting here with me?”

“Are you kidding?” He leaned way back in his chair, teetering on the back two legs. An arm swept out from his side in your direction. “Have you seen yourself?”

You pursed your lips. “Please.”

He raised a hand. “I’m not going to try and convince you. But I may take advantage. Commandeer more of your time, since you think you don’t deserve mine.”

“So you are a con man.”

He shook his head. That smile could only belong to the most skilled grifter. “If I was a good con man, I’d have more than a hundred dollars to my name after half a day in this ‘It’s a Small World’ casino.”

“It is a bit Disneyfied, isn’t it?”

A shrug. “Well, it’s cleaner than the ones near the motel Sam and I are staying at, so that’s a plus.”

The plate of food in front of you looked less and less appetizing as the seconds passed. Pushing it away, you really wanted to dig into the dessert that was Dean. But you’d only had two one-night stands in your life. Neither one was spectacular and left you full of regret that you’d had them to begin with. But this man. Oh, you had a feeling this man would love you and leave you with a million other regrets and create an addiction you’d never be able to fulfill again. What was that saying? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. This man was surging all kinds of wants in your head. If you got a taste, you knew you were done for.

His voice rumbled like a storm cloud and pulled you out of your thoughts. “What’s up for the rest of your night?”

You grinned, wanting to tease out this time with him for as long as possible. Skirt on the edge of a pond of possibilities and drown in those sometimes sea green colored eyes. “I told you there’s not enough time if you’re leaving tonight.”

“Pretty good at completing a task quickly and efficiently.” He licked his lips. “I mean, taking my time, yeah, that’s always ideal. But, if we’re pressed for time, sweetheart, I won’t disappoint.” His brow twitched up.

You sighed, sounding a little too loud and desperate for your liking. “Does a guarantee come with that claim?”

“How much of a gambler are you?” He deflected the question with another.

“I enjoy it.”

“I might be worth taking a chance on, then.”

“Hm. I met a nice old man while playing black jack tonight. He talked about odds and luck and the house edge and why he loves cards, black jack especially. It works his brain and he can play for hours and not lose his shirt.”

Dean smiled. “So, what kind of hand am I? Soft or hard?”

You grinned at the innuendo, trying to keep your train of thought on its track. You leaned across the table. He mirrored your action, meeting you halfway. His hands clasped together on the surface, forearms firm and locked. The closest stare you’d shared.

Both thumbs lifted up in his grip and he nodded a fraction with his chin. “Well, what’s the verdict?” You could smell apples, cinnamon, and vanilla on his breath; courtesy of his indulgence in pie ala mode and his slightly parted mouth. He came into full focus now. Freckles dotting the tops of his cheeks and sprinkled across his nose. Lips that were perfect, puffy and pronounced. Sharp edges and soft curves. He watched you inventory him as he did the same, eyes scanning, crinkles emerging around them when he smiled and you thought he found something he especially liked about your visage. The gamblers and diners dropped away from your periphery. The piped in music and frantic sounds locked away in a vacuum, muffled and mumbling like the adults in those Peanuts cartoons you loved to watch when you were little.

“Neither. You are in no way a safe bet. You’ve got a major house edge.” Your answer came out lower than intended. The slight mix of surprise and disappointment on his face at the answer made you clear your throat. You continued. “So, why gamble in the first place? Cause there’s always the slightest chance you’ll get lucky and hit it big. Flip a coin and see where it’ll land.”

The smile returned and he shot stick-straight in his seat. “I’ve got plenty of coins.” He began to rifle through a jacket pocket. “Two out of three?” You held back a giggle at his eagerness.

“I’ve got one right here.” You dug the chip out of your jean pocket. The plastic disc twirled between your fingers. “Wanna see where it lands?”

His eyes widened. “Big spender. What’re we betting?”

It was your turn to lean back. “Depends. How lucky do you feel?”

He chuckled. “Stakes? And, then I’ll let you know.”

You swallowed. “Well, Ron, the old man, was explaining that Roulette has the best House Edge for the casino. Over five percent in their favor that a player loses. Think you can be my lucky charm and push those odds in my favor?”

He nodded. “What we talkin’? Street or split bet?”

The man knew his games. You smiled. “Straight up.”

His head tilted back. “Whoa. That’s a helluva lot of luck.” A finger pointed back and forth between the both of you. “I help you hit the jackpot and…”

You grinned. “You hit the jackpot. Call the shots for the rest of the night. We go wherever. Do whatever.”

His lips curled into an “O” as he tried to hold back his own grin. He nodded in thought. “If you lose?”

You shrugged. “Buy me a drink at the nearest bar, share some more stories, then we shake hands and say it was nice meeting the other.”

He raised his hands. “Well, I will take those odds. Let’s go find us a wheel.” His tall frame bolted out of his seat, beaming a smile at you.

Your heart sped up. There was no way he was winning this bet. But he seemed up for spending a little more time with you regardless. And that said something. You reached into your purse to drop a tip on the table but he’d already beat you to it.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You nodded and wandered from the restaurant to the massive casino floor. He towered next to your side, the elbow of his jacket brushing against the sheer material covering your biceps. He smelled amazing. When you stopped in the middle of the floor to get your bearings and looked up to ask what direction you both should head, you found him gazing at your cleavage in the strappy surplice top. The look on his face shot straight to your core.

His eyebrows shot up at the realization he’d been caught ogling. “What’s wrong?”

A flush of warmth flooded your face. “We’re using your luck here. You pick the table.”

“Lot of pressure.” He mumbled.

“Lot at stake.” You countered.

“Alright.” He nodded to the right. You followed him, weaving through the crowd, now having the chance to notice his bowlegs and how very wide his shoulder span was. He was wearing entirely too many layers to your liking. But, you got to bathe in the wake of his scent and imagine how very pert that ass was under that denim. He halted without warning and you put the brakes on your stride, inches before careening into his back. His fingers pointed three tables over. “That one.” He looked over his right shoulder and grinned, finding your body and face quite close. “Step right up.”

You took the lead again and inhaled and exhaled deep, taking the one empty seat at the Roulette table. The wheel was currently in motion, the ball spinning, holding the breath of every gambler with a stake on the result. You heard the clicking of the ball along the slots as the rotation slowed, deciding on its destination.

Dean slid his standing frame along your right. He was warm, solid. He tipped down to whisper in your ear. “Sure you wanna go for a straight bet? Making me think you don’t even want a little fun time with me. We could lower the stakes. I’d be more than happy to let you call the shots for the rest of the night.” The offer dripped out of his voice with a deep intensity, low and tempting.

You would not meet his eyes again, already picturing the sexy smirk on his face. He would distract you, make you cave. “Nope.” You responded. “All in. Go big or go home.” You pulled out the chip from your pocket as the winning number was called. A mixture of whoops and grumbles emerged from the dealer’s announcement. Chips were swept over and around the table.

He sighed and rose up, waiting for the table to be cleared and for the dealer to tell everyone to place their bets. “Okay. What number?”

Your mind reeled with the possibilities. “When’s your birthday?” You asked.

“Seriously?” He chuckled.

“Yep.” Your eyes wandered over the red and black numbers on the green felt board. The all clear was called and chips scattered in place with both hurried and tentative fingers of various betters.

“January 24th.”

“So, we could go with 1 or 24. Red or black?”

Your body startled with the pressure of his hand at the small of your back. “Black.”

“24 it is then.” You gulped and placed the chip with care over the number. It rested there alone, a single play amid a multitude of others.

His fingers tapped against your skin in anticipation. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.” He joked. “Maybe as a parting gift you’ll give me your number.”

You smiled, focusing on the slight swirl of his fingers now, imagining what they could do to other parts of your body.

“No more bets.” The dealer called and waved a hand over the table. The wheel spun in one direction. The ball clicked and whirled in its lane in the other.

You thought about what Blackjack Ron had said earlier. Roulette, straight bet odds were 35 to 1. You could view that bet as a drowning man’s last ditch effort to keep their head above the water’s surface. Hold out for that raft to save them, give them a second chance to get things right. Or, you could view it as something as simple as hope. Hope that great things sometimes happen when you take a risk. You should try it once. That’s what Ron had said.

You closed your eyes as the wheel slowed and the ball eased in its race for the finish line. You replayed that little mantra, the pep talk you’d give yourself every once in a while in your bathroom mirror. Failure is always a possibility when you try. But so is success.

The dealer announced the winning number.

Dean’s fingers froze. “Holy fucking shit!” He bellowed.

Your eyes jolted open. The dealer placed a tiny marker on “24 Black.” Your mouth dropped open and watched the chips stack up in front of you.

“Holy fucking shit!” Dean repeated. “How much is that?”

You blinked, then repeated the calculation out loud you had figured out when you threw out the dare. “One thousand, seven hundred, and fifty dollars.”

“Wow!” You looked up and assessed his face. He was floored and amazed, like a kid that was just told he had free reign in a toy store. “That’s… that’s some luck.”

“All you.” You grinned.

The compliment took him aback. There was the slightest hint of blush on those cheeks.

You motioned to the winnings. “Okay, grab some and let’s cash out. Half of this is yours.”

Even more amazement. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“I’m feeling generous.” You packed the chips into your purse. He stuffed some into his pockets. When you rose up, a jolt of adrenaline pushed you into a new territory of action. One filled with courage. You took your time and slithered close to his standing frame. Let parts of your body sweep along his. His brows rose higher than you’d seen so far that night. “Looks like you’re calling the shots now, Dean. We go wherever. Do whatever.”

A delicious lick of his lips followed your statement. His eyes dazzled with thoughts. “Let’s get out of here.”

You’d walked with him along the strip for what felt like forever. He’d gotten you a cup of frozen yogurt for part of the adventure. The warm air and pulse of Vegas fed your lingering alcohol buzz. Dean was just as intoxicating. He talked in cryptic paragraphs about him and his brother’s nomadic lifestyle. You laughed at his dirty jokes, both basking in the artificial glow surrounding you and the high of winning. But you, most importantly, let go of the decision making.

A turn off the busy, fluorescent lit thoroughfare landed you in a much more adult amusement area of the city. And, you had an inkling, heading in the direction of Dean’s motel. You’d finished the last bit of your treat and tossed the empty cup and spoon into a nearby trash can when he stopped to read the flashing sign of a venue.

His rapt stare forced you to look up and see what he was focusing on. The amber neon depicted the figure of a voluptuous female with flowing hair, one leg wrapped around a bright white pole. You read the name of the establishment out loud. “Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club?”

He turned to you and grinned. “Been in one of these before?”

You felt your brow scrunch together. “Well, no.”

He walked over to the glass door covered in dark film. “Well, let’s go, then.”

“Really? This is what you want to do?”

“At this moment? Yes.” He opened the door and ushered you in. “My lady.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Are you trying to test my comfort level or something?” The question breezed by his frame as you passed.

“Something like that.” He smiled.

You really didn’t know what to expect when you walked in. A bouncer looking dude waved you in after a quick survey. Dean’s hand was on your back again, as it had been off and on throughout the evening, leading you towards the dim section of tables and booths. It was packed with, from what you could see, a majority of male patrons with the occasional token female. The tables wrapped around a few circular stages with catwalks emerging from blue velvet curtains. A dozen or so topless females danced for the pleasure of their audiences. The bass of the music rumbled through your skin.

“Here.” Dean leaned in, pushing you to a free high top right by one of the stages. Enough light spilled onto the area that you spotted the kid in a toy store look on his face again when he took his seat.

You sat across, tearing your gaze from him to the ladies wrapped around poles, bronzed and oiled similar to the male counterparts you’d been hooting at earlier that evening.

“Thought you could see how the other half lives, after that Australian review.” Dean brought up the exact same thought, only he shivered in distaste. A wave of his hand requested the attention of one of the waitresses who thankfully, for you, wore a bit more than the dancers.

“Hello, lovelies. I’m Cherie. What can I get you?” She purred over to Dean and gave you a sweet smile, dropping napkins in front of your spots. Her bare glittery shoulders and cocoa skin made you crave chocolate for a second.

Dean’s lips quirked up in a smile. You realized he’d been giving your reaction more attention than the female with big onyx eyes and raven, wavy hair. “I’ll have a bourbon. Top Shelf. Neat. What are you having, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, continuing the little game you’d started since he won the bet.

He nodded. “Same for this pretty little lady.” The waitress nodded, about to walk off, when Dean asked, “Oh, what’s it cost for a private show in the back?”

The waitress raised a pencil lined eyebrow. “Depends on who you want the show with.”

“Are you available?” Dean grinned.

She giggled. “I might be.”

“Well, if you are, let me know what it’d be for the both of us?”

“Will do, sweetie.” Cherie bounced off with a pronounced sway of her ample hips.

Your mouth popped open. “What?”

“Whatever I want.” He reminded you with a lick of his lips. He leaned his forearms on the table. “You ever, ah…”

An awkward giggle erupted from your throat. “No.”

He shrugged and smiled. “Thought about it?”

“Maybe.”

That made Dean’s grin grow wider. “Well, it’s only a dance. You technically aren’t supposed to touch the ladies. Sometimes, though, you get lucky. And, the way my luck is going tonight… got to give it a shot.” His fingers brushed over the top of your hand. “Get something etched in my memory for repeat viewings later.”

The touch of his fingers, light and gentle, ticklish and thrilling, hit an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You emitted something between a laugh and a sigh. “You’re going to blow all your winnings tonight on booze and boobs.”

“Worth it. I’m getting to spend it with a beautiful partner in crime.”

You sat with him and watched the show. A country tune blasted through the sound system. The ladies all sashayed back to the curtains, flinging them back with a dramatic flair. They disappeared only to be replaced by cowboy hat and boot wearing dancers. Daisy dukes rode so high up that half of their ass cheeks bulged out. Holsters, hung loose from their waists, held fake pistols that, when pulled out for use, were done so with the most phallic inducing reminders. And all had the perkiest, perfect breasts you’d ever seen.

His fingers tangled into yours about midway through the performance. “Thank God I’m a country boy.” He tipped his head about to the twang. “So, Albuquerque, huh?”

You attempted to track the conversation and not the feel of his warm skin tingling yours. The pads of his fingers were rough and worn, gritty but not harsh. You imagined what kind of work he did to get them that way. “Yeah. Moved there after college. Got a job at a big research company. Glorified office assistant, so just the mundane business stuff that helps keep everyone employed on the books, bills paid.”

“Research?” His smile softened, listening to you.

“Sustainable energy, nuclear weapons.”

His bottom lip jutted out as he nodded. “Like it?”

“More days than not.” Your eyes widened as one of the dancers provocatively licked the barrel of her toy gun. You couldn’t help but laugh in embarrassment. “Geez, I’ve never done that with a firearm.”

Dean chuckled. “What have you done with a firearm?”

“I’ve got a license to carry. My dad taught me how to shoot when I was around thirteen. He was a big time game hunter. Back in Colorado.” You didn’t bother to go into what happened to your parents. You wanted to keep the tone of the night light and fun.

“What do you carry?” Genuine interest spread over his face now.

“Walther PPQ. But I left it back home.” You smiled, realizing he was not put off and probably carried as well. “Are you packing?”

“Oh, I’m packing,” He grinned, “but my gun’s back at the motel. Not a good idea to mix Vegas nightlife and bullets, I’ve learned.” That sounded like a perfect lead-in for a story. But he only added. “M1911.”

You nodded then asked, “Country boy, huh?”

“Yep, Kansas.”

“We could have hit Stoney’s then.”

“You would have tried to get me to dance.” He nodded to the stage. “More fun to watch.”

Cherie returned, interrupting the flow of conversation with two tumblers of bourbon. After placing the glasses on the table and eyeing the way Dean gripped your hand, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered. You struggled to make it out, giving up when it proved pointless. His lids lifted a fraction. “Well, that sounds positively delightful, Cherie.” He added with a sexy swagger. “Think you can get yourself one of those cowgirl outfits?”

She nodded. “See what I can do. Jimmy’ll come by for you two in about a half hour then.” Another nearby table called her away.

Dean grabbed his glass and raised it for a toast. “To Vegas.”

You shook your head and clinked your glass with his, mumbling. “To Vegas.”

The sparkling beaded fringe curtaining the doorway was a nice touch. You pushed through the strands and took in where you’d be with Dean for the next twenty minutes, along with Cherie, who was on her way. It was enough privacy for an intimate dance. Safe enough, you imagined, that if one of the women had to call for an assist from a handsy client, someone could be there in a flash without impediment. Burly Jimmy, about a foot taller than Dean, seemed to be the bouncer/bodyguard for the ladies and waited outside in the hallway.

“Really playing up the Sapphire theme, huh?” You asked Dean for his thoughts on the decor. There were two blue velvet, plush armchairs in opposite corners of the tiny eight by eight space. Two of the walls were floor to ceiling glass and a tinted overhead light washed everything in shades of midnight blue.

“Fancy.” He teased. “One of the deluxe rooms.”

The two bourbons you had milked at the table for the last half hour had sizzled your senses with a warm euphoria. Almost like you were watching yourself in some sort of out of body experience. Had it really only been a few hours since you’d seen your girlfriends? You glanced at your watch and confirmed in the spin of your head it was a little after midnight. Your brain and body were wired and alert due to the proximity of this man pushing all your buttons tonight. It was raw, racy, a revelation in facets of sexiness you’d never had the honor of being in the presence of. Until tonight.

He’d teased with playful touches; flirted with that outlaw mouth; melted you with heated stares; worn you down with roguish charm; and hinted at some heavy shit that made you wonder how broken he might be under all that attractive armor. The alcohol had let his guard down a few times.

“Hey.” Dean snapped his fingers and brought you back. “You still with me, beautiful? I think we need to cut you off.”

You clicked your tongue and shot him with your finger gun. “Might be right, partner.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Think so.” He rubbed his hands together and spotted a touchscreen in the wall. “Huh, even get to pick the music. Real fancy.” He pointed to one of the chairs. “Get comfy.” He tapped some buttons. You slid into the cushion, trying not to imagine the amount of bodily fluids embedded in the fabric. It did smell nice and clean, almost antiseptic, so that settled one of your racing thoughts. Your stare lingered over at Dean, a pensive look on his face as he decided on the tracks. It had to be illegal for someone to be that handsome without even trying. “Damn, it’s hot in here.” He pulled off his jacket and one layer of flannel, draping them over the back of the empty chair. His simple black t-shirt strained over his shoulders, biceps, chest. The alcohol had to be part of the reason he looked so perfect. No way, you kept thinking, no one’s that perfect.

The beads parted and Cherie strolled into the room. She had certainly done what she could to honor Dean’s request. She wore the same white vinyl hot pants and matching color stripper pumps that comprised her waitress attire. But she’d gone full on country bumpkin with a plaid flannel tied in a knot under her push up bra, and a cowboy hat.

“Did you pick your tunes, Cowboy?” She flirted at Dean.

“Yep.” The wide, cheesy grin spread over his face.

“Have a seat, time’s a wastin’.” She was working the southern accent, too. Dean hopped onto the other seat cushion and wiggled his ass into position. He also wiggled his eyebrows like a cartoon villain at you. You giggled.

Cherie tapped the screen. You were unsurprised by the country music that filled the room at a respectable volume. “Jimmy explain all the rules?” She asked and began to gyrate her hips to the song.

You nodded and replied, your eyes bouncing from Cherie to Dean, “You get to touch us, we don’t touch you. Stay in our seats. If we aren’t sure if we can, ask first.”

Cherie twirled and stopped to smile down at you. “I bet you were top of your class, hun.”

Your cheeks heated up at the flirting. This woman was obviously younger than you by at least a decade and was calling you hun. Dean’s jaw clenched at your reaction.

“So, what brings the two of you to Vegas?” Cherie turned around, giving you a full face of her curvy hips and tiny waist. The white pants almost glowed in the light and you could hear the slight squeak of material. Her moves were smooth, fluid, second nature.

Dean was getting a full face of the cleavage peeking out of her shirt as she bent down to give him a nice view. “Romantic getaway for my girl, here.” His eyes drifted over to you, past Cherie’s elbow, with a smirk.

Oh, this is how we’re playing it now, you thought. You had to admit the idea of you being his girl was absolute heaven.

“Aw, how sweet. How long you two been together?” She rose up, her hands gripping the back of her neck, elbows jutting out like wings. She twirled to look at you. She backed into Dean’s lap and began to circle and skirt her ass along his thighs. Cherie blocked his beautiful face with pink flannel. The only Dean reaction visible were his fingers latching onto the armrests like a vice.

You stifled a giggle. “Five years.” You threw out the first number you could think of.

“A lot of man to be working with for five years.” She smiled.

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Alright if I put my hands on him, darlin’?”

You heard Dean moan. How could you deny him? And, how fun that she was asking you for permission and not bothering with his approval. “Of course.” You swallowed at the intimate turn things were taking.

She lifted up, turned again. Her hands landed on Dean’s knees. “Let’s let your pretty lady see how much you’re enjoying this.” She cooed and spun him in the - surprise - rotating chair. You got an eyeful at this angle of that chiseled face and the wide eyes from his own surprise at the movement. He glanced over at you, turning serious in a second. It was like someone had turned the temperature on to sauna level in the room.

Cherie’s actions focused Dean’s attention back to her. Her fingers and long nails drifted and scraped along the surface of his hands, forearms, biceps. Her palms came to rest on his shoulders. She climbed on top with grace, wedging her knees into the cushion by his hips, clamping his bowlegs shut with the force of her muscular calves. Her heels poked out from the chair like weapons. That ass settled on his knees. Her cleavage inched closer to his face as he settled and reclined into the headrest.

“How does he feel?” You realized you had asked the question out loud.

Dean turned to you, languid and lush, blissed out and smiling in a lustful stupor.

“Warm. Strong. All sorts of good.” She smiled at you. “Lucky lady.”

If only, you thought.

Dean licked his lips at you, delved his gaze into Cherie’s cleavage, then met the dancer’s stare. “If you think I feel good, you should give my girl a test drive.” He unclenched his grip on the armrest for a few seconds, maybe trying to get some circulation back in his fingers. “In fact, I’d love it if you’d tell me how good my baby feels.”

Holy shit. Your panties dampened at his confession.

Cherie grinned. “Well, that’s up to your baby. Woman always gets the final say.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean chuckled. “I’ve gotta run everything by her, or else I’d get spanked. Can I tell you a secret, Cherie?” Dean husked out the question. Cherie nodded in interest, grinding on him now. Dean cocked a brow at the action. “Sometimes I get in trouble on purpose, just so she can spank me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that; the thrill and imagery of Dean naked, leaned over your lap with a bright red ass after some serious punishment from your hand.

“Sounds like you’re a handful.” Cherie snuggled down deeper, and dry humped him. “Feel like a nice handful, too.” She was humming along to the country tune. Just another day at the office for Cherie.

It felt all sorts of wrong and right at the same time, watching this lap dance. This teasing, edging. Who the hell has the House Edge in this scenario?

Dean’s hands clenched tighter around the velvet. “Don’t wanna come in my pants, Sweet Cherie. Isn’t that one of the rules?” He panted.

She laughed. “Oh, I’d break a couple for you two.” She slowed the torture and peeled off him with a groan that almost matched Dean’s. “We going for that test drive, baby?” Her hungry eyes scanned your seated frame.

“Um…” You began. Dean’s breathing regulated and he circled the seat back to face you. He grinned at you, peeking over the curve of Cherie’s hips, ready for the show.

“It’s okay. Anyplace you don’t want me touching, just streetlight. Only if you want to indulge your man.” She raised a brow. “But you might like it, too.”

“Oh, God, I hope so.” Dean mumbled.

Cherie did the same with your chair as she had with Dean’s. You tilted, looking at yourself beyond Dean in the mirror. How very deer in the headlights you appeared. Cherie was a veritable tigress, running the entire show.

She leaned down, inches from your face. Her fingers wiggled and she cupped your jaw. “I won’t bite.” Her sweet breath laced with peppermint washed over you. “So warm. Don’t be nervous.” Her soft voice lulled you into a safe space. “Your big strong man over there wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Would you, Cowboy?”

“Absolutely, fucking not.” Dean’s voice shot straight to your core again. You caught him licking his lips. He nodded, entranced at the vision of Cherie guiding her hand down the slope of your neck, then cupping the curve of one breast. Your breath hitched as she squeezed and her long nails dipped into the cleavage. “How’s she feel?” Another lick.

“Hm, so soft.” An eyebrow arched when she skirted over your covered nipple. “And excited. Still green, sweetie?” You nodded. Cherie tipped off the cowboy hat, sliding it over the crown of your head.

Dean rumbled out a low moan. You thought you heard him curse under his breath and whisper something close to “Ride ‘em, cowgirl.”

The arousal created by this beautiful woman was dizzying and the heat from Dean’s stare was making it hard to breathe. Sweat broke out on your forehead. Your stomach churned. “Oh.” Something else was threatening to escape as a sour bile hit the base of your throat. “Oh, no.” You mumbled. “Red, red. I need to get to a bathroom.”

Cherie hopped off and grabbed you by the wrist. “Jimmy! Need a trash can, stat.”

Dean jumped up from his seat. You spotted alarm on his face and got a quick glimpse of a decent bulge in his jeans before you groaned again at the somersaults your insides were doing. A hand clamped over your mouth as you forced down the gag and swallowed. It wasn’t going to be long before the entire floor would be covered with a Vegas buffet.

The saving grace that was Jimmy parted the curtains and slid a small desk trash can over in your general direction. Dean fell to his knees and held it in front of you. Cherie tossed off the cowboy hat you were wearing and held your hair back.

A deep inhale of the artificial lemon smell covering the trash can liner was what finally had you retching.

You emerged from the women’s bathroom fifteen minutes later after the whole fiasco had commenced. Cherie had been nice enough to bring you a disposable toothbrush and some toothpaste from backstage. You’d cleaned yourself up as best you could. But you were exhausted, humiliated, and planned to call yourself a cab. You were certain Dean had called it a night, leaving your sorry ass to figure things out.

How surprised, then, your face must have looked to see him leaning against the wall, Cherie’s cowboy hat twirling in his hands. He was back in his flannel and jacket, staring out onto the stage. The hint of movement by your slow trudges catching his attention, he turned and gave you a soft smile. “Hey there. How’re you doing?”

You shrugged. “I’m so sorry.” Your scratchy voice skipped over the apology.

He walked over to you. “I pushed my luck… and yours… a bit too far. I’m sorry.” He grinned and placed the hat on your head. “Cherie said you could have it. A parting gift for the both of us.”

A smile broke out on your face.

“You look really cute, Cowgirl.”

“You stayed?” You questioned.

Dean’s face contorted in confusion. “Not like I was going to just skip out on you over some upchuck. Trust me, beautiful, I’ve seen way worse.” He flicked the hat so it rose up an inch higher on your head. “So, calling us a cab or walking you back to your hotel so you can sleep this off? You are going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”

You tummy seesawed at the thought of a lot of walking right then. “Cab.”

He nodded and headed for the exit. “Let’s go flag one down.”

“But…”

Dean stopped, wavering in his stride and waited.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet.”

He smiled, then sighed. “Well, I got a text about an hour ago that little brother is going off on a granola munching hike in the desert by himself.” He scratched the back of his head. “So, if you want to hang out in my seedy motel room for a couple hours, it’s free.”

You grinned, queasy but happy.

He’d found a country station on the motel’s radio alarm clock when you’d arrived earlier and forced you to down a bottle of water and pop a couple aspirin. The both of you were now on your third round of War. The conversation had gotten deeper as the battle continued. But there were still the light, fun and flirty moments that made spending this time with him feel even more special.

You sat cross legged on the blanket Dean had pulled out of his duffel to spare your ass from sitting on the dingy motel room carpet. He sat across from you, back against the foot of his bed, leaning an elbow on one propped up knee, the other leg splayed out on the blanket. You didn’t think his bowlegs could manage a cross legged position and grinned to yourself at the thought.

It was 2:00 am. He showed no signs of fading, but you were struggling. Dean kept glancing at his phone but never faltered to toss down his cards in time with yours.

“Hopefully he’s okay.” You offered. The tinge of pain crept in. You knew you had to say goodbye and call it a night. It was obvious he was worried. His brother had not returned his texts and was still roaming around, somewhere. “I should go. It’s getting really late and you look ready to form a search party.” You tossed your hand of playing cards onto the blanket and attempted a slow rise to your feet. You placed a hand on the cowboy hat to keep it from falling off your head. At least, for now, your stomach had settled. The pounding in your head had lessened.

“I’m surprised your gal pals haven’t been ringing you non-stop.” Dean’s head tilted up and stared.

“I’m the last thing they’re thinking of tonight.” You hadn’t given them much thought either since the first time you’d looked at Dean hours ago. God, it felt like a lifetime ago at this point.

“You should stay a little longer and at least see who wins. We’re all tied up.”

“We’ll just have to call it a draw.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He hopped up much quicker than you.

“Where’d I put my bag?” Your eyes found it on the little table by the kitchenette as soon as you’d asked the question. You hobbled over, letting the blood flow into your legs proper again.

As you rummaged through the contents, you heard the volume of the radio go up.

You turned and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his thighs.

You giggled. “You like this song?”

“Ah, it’s pop-country. But ladies like it, right?”

You shrugged and dropped into the chair beside the table. “Where I’m from, ladies get weak in the knees for Luke.”

Dean grinned that grin you’d seen countless times that night and wished you could see for every night after. He stood up and swaggered over with purpose, in only that black t-shirt, jeans and sock clad feet. He mouthed the words to the song on his approach. Your eyes were locked on those luscious lips and how well he knew the lyrics.

Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud ***

Gonna watch you make me fall in love

Dean pulled the hat off your head and slid it in the perfect sweet spot on his head. The slight tilt was sexy as hell.

Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees

Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek

For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels

Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl

Aw, country girl, shake it for me

He teased and smiled, sticking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and swirling his hips. You giggled at his awkward and heartfelt attempt at this show and the blush creeping over the apples of his cheeks.

You rose up and joined him, wanting to relieve him from the embarrassment. And, hell, you finally wanted to dance with him. You sidled up into his space, slotted one leg between his bow legs and circled your hips in time to his. That rhythm being something he easily adjusted to and was happy to continue. You looked up into those green eyes, wrapped your hands around his neck and felt his warm, safe hands glide up and down your back. The lyrics came to you easily and you lip synced along with him. It was corny, cheesy, unexpected, and sexy as hell.

Pony-tail and a pretty smile

Rope me in from a country mile

So come on over here and get in my arms

Spin me around this big ole barn

Tangle me up like grandma's yarn

Yeah, yeah, yeah

The brim of his cowboy hat bopped your nose during a particularly forceful pretend belting of words by Dean. “Sorry.” He spoke aloud and chuckled.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, out of breath from everything he was doing to you. “I’m so glad I took a chance on you, Dean.”

That one statement pulled you both out of the playful and flirty exploration of each other and the boundaries you’d tested. His focus on your face turned serious. And, even though the uptempo song stomped on in the background, his motions halted. His eyes drank you in, every inch of your face. His fingers danced along your jaw, curled around your neck, angling you up to him. To finally kiss you through the rest of Luke Bryan’s crooning.

Now dance, like a dandelion

In the wind on the hill underneath the pines

Yeah, move like the river flows

Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes

All I wanna do is get to holdin' you

And get to knowin' you

And get to showin' you

And get to lovin' you

'Fore the night is through

Baby, you know what to do

You’d died and gone to heaven; were positive of that fact. No man had ever had lips so soft, a mouth so determined, and knew exactly what to do with the precise amount of pressure and tongue.

As Bryan faded out, you heard the chirping of a phone. Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead into yours. You felt the brim of his hat on the top of your head. “Sweetheart…” The moan was a mixture of want and something else.

You sighed and knew. “Your brother.” You motioned over to the bed where his phone was. “You should go.”

He leaned down and kissed you again, placed the cowboy hat back on your head and sprinted to the phone. You did the same, found the contact of a Vegas cab company you’d put in at the start of your trip and dialed. You spoke to the weary dispatcher and repeated the name of the motel, watching Dean reply back to the text as he sat on the bed and slipped into his shoes.

“Not too far. Should only be about five minutes.” You nodded. “You can go. I’ll wait outside.”

He rubbed his thighs. “No way. You’ll wait in here with me.”

“Dean, I…”

He cut you off. “You surprised the hell out of me tonight, beautiful. You were up for everything I threw at ya.” He smiled. A genuine, heart tugging smile.

“The night could have taken a much different turn if I could have held my liquor better.”

He shrugged. “But it was still one helluva night. And, I’m glad you took the chance on me, too.” He offered his phone. “Put your number in.” You smiled and did as asked, then handed it back. He shot you a text. “There. Now, you have mine.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “And, here. Don’t ask questions, but if for some reason that phone stops working... call this number and say you need to get in touch with Dean Winchester.”

You read the card. “FBI Director, Mike Kayser?”

Dean raised both eyebrows.

“Okay.” You slipped the card and phone in your purse. Headlights flooded through the motel curtains. “Well, that’s my ride, I think.”

Dean stood up and opened the door, walking out into the early morning with you. The yellow cab idled in the parking lot. He waved at the driver, then turned you in his arms and stared at you hard. “You send me a text when you get into your room.”

You chuckled. “You’ll be roaming the desert like Jim Morrison by then.”

“Please.” That soft smile again.

“Okay.”

He grabbed your face with two warm palms, angled you in just the right way so he could dip down and kiss you under your cowboy hat, soft and slow. He whispered in your ear. “I wish I could be your safe bet.”

You gave him one more peck, then walked to the cab. When you opened the back door, you turned and called out. “What would be the fun in that? Flip a coin and see where it lands every once in a while, right?”

He gave you a two finger salute and smiled that Dean Winchester grin. As the driver nodded at your destination and turned out of the lot, you watched him, standing, waiting for you to disappear from view. You held onto that grin. Closed your eyes. Committed it to memory. And hoped you’d see it again.

THE END

***Luke Bryan - Country Girl (Shake It For Me)

MASTERLIST

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fluff #spnfanficpond #dean x reader

23 notes · View notes

zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 4

a/n: hi I'm back! Please don’t hate me tbh. The semester is off to a crazy start for me already, I don't think Senior year is gonna go down without a fight. I’m really excited for these babies tbh. Shit’s about to get real so strap yourself in tight!!!!!

WARNINGS: deep throating, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), restraints, general Dom-ness?

*y/n’s point of view*

The only good thing about bougie ass dinners with industry people is playing dress up. Nothing else good could come out of a bunch of rich people throwing themselves a dinner to network and do a raffle for charity so that no one notices how pointless the dinner was. New York was notorious for them. More so than even LA maybe. But, however much you hated them wasn’t going to stop you from attending. It was important for the company that you go. You figured a little pampering session was the least that you deserved.

Somewhere along the line you stopped having to visit beauty shops with black plastic bags that contained your hair for the event. At some point a hair stylist started showing up at your apartment. You stopped paying in cash and started having Tiana pay the bill. Things had changed a lot actually. But the quality of your hair? Sis, that was a standard that must be improved upon and maintained.

One cannot imagine the power of a lacefront until it has adorned your head. Think Beyonce on stage with the jet of a thousand fans whooshing through her hair. Only without the networth or discography. Tonight you were going for something a little unorthodox, a little outside of your comfort zone. Purple to be exact. But not just any purple. It was this rich, vibrant shade of purple. The roots started out black which made it a little more natural looking and this beautiful wig was sitting at twenty-six inches long meaning you were finna be looking GWOOD. Yes with the ‘w’, too.

“Ooooooo child! Would you look at me?! Where did she come from looking so pretty? Sheesh!” You cackled at the mirror.

Tiana laughed right along with you as your stylist did some finishing touches to make sure your wig was glued for the rest of the night.

“If you’re done loving on yourself we gotta get you into your dress and make up in less than thirty minutes.”

“Oh shit, girl why didn’t you say somethin’?”

Tiana just rolled her eyes. She had said something. At least three times. Woops.

Your dress for the evening was one of those dresses that one didn’t get to eat meals in because any added weight might make the zipper burst. Usually you were a flowly type of gal, a fuck the patriarchy type of gal. But the dress was silk and free so like...just this once.

In the car to the event, you work on emails for your artists, while Tiana works on emails for you. You were probably moving in the direction of needing to hire more bodies, hell you knew your clients were pulling in enough work on their own, but it was hard to give up the duo, the dream team. You craved the intimacy of having your best friend with you always, and you weren’t ready to let anyone else invade that space yet.

“Can we leave this thing early and go get burger king or somethin’?” You whined leaning on her shoulder.

Tiana, never one to be out done, was in her own outfit for the night. It was a sparkly beaded dress with extremely intricate detailing on the bodice. She was thicker than even you were, boobs and ass and thighs galore with a tummy to match that she was just as proud of. All of this exquisite body was draped for the gods that night, the way that she deserved. Her hair remained natural for the night but tied up into these beautiful knots in a row of three on her head. She was beautiful and perfect. You loved her infinitely.

She snorted softly. “We have to stay until at least dessert has been served. But I see no reason not to hit up some food afterwards.”

“How tipsy can I be and still get away with it tonight?”

“Hmm...I think if you do more than four vodka-crans you might start asking people if their families owned slaves.”

You purse your lips in annoyance. “But that’s my favorite question! I never get to have fun. Shit.”

Post the whole hitting number one on Forbes 30 under 30 list, you had to start doing the whole red carpet thing. Cameras weren’t your favorite, and you liked the flash of them even less. However, Black Women didn’t exactly get to the position you were in very often, and so you’d smile and pose a little if it meant some little black girl from queens sitting at home might see it and create the thought in her head that she could get there to. Cause she needed to. There needed to be more. It wasn’t even an option.

It’s on that red carpet that you see him. Why it had never occurred to you that he would be there you weren’t quite sure. But it didn’t. And you were left floundering in the middle of a million cameras as you witnessed your fuck buddy walk out in a deep maroon, red suit like the goddamn devil he was. You bit your lip as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his hand into the pocket of his perfectly tight pants while he smoldered for the camera. Jesus.

“Bitch you are making dick sucking eyes in the middle of this red carpet! Get. It. Together.” Tianan hissed in your ear.

“I--I am so sorry. I’m together. Together. I promise.” You whispered.

You cleared your face, teeth resetting into your famous smile. Your fingers rested on your thigh and hip for that perfect pose. Maybe you settled your hair a little more over your shoulder. The photographers were impressed, as they should be, and called for a little more action. There’s no way you let your eyes roam over to see if he was staring. There was no need. You could feel the heat in which he stared, nearly felt the zipper on the back of your dress come undone with it. Hmmm. Sounds about right. Men, so obvious.

Eventually you turned to let Tiana lead you to the next section of carpet. Unfortunately there was nowhere else to turn. He was there. Hair perfectly nestled into a curly disarray. You didn’t miss the way he licked his lips as you walked closer. There’s no way the cameras missed it either.

“Y/n!” He called, the cocky asshole. “Let’s get a picture.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Tiana for assistance, only for her to shrug.

“There’s technically no reason to say no.”

And that is how you found yourself in the middle of a red carpet, his fingers burning against your hip as you both smiled for the cameras.

“We are in public.” You hissed through clenched, but smiling, teeth. “Please act like it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of acting differently.” He grinned, fingers digging a little more firmer against your skin. “But uh, you taking this dress off in my apartment later or is that my job?”

You went to throw your hair over your shoulder again and took the time to subtly and smoothly ram your elbow into his side.

“Ouch. Dammit, y/n.”

You smiled. “I must be moving on. Have a lovely time, sweetheart.”

His eyes travel over your back and down to your ass as you walk away. Again, you don’t need to look to know it. You were a fucking dream.

The inside is just as schmoozy and annoying as ever. There’s some violin, harp type shit. There’s a cocktail hour. Half of the audience looks ready to keel over. And yet here your black ass was having to deal with it all. Rude. But like always you and Tiana made the most of it.

She led you through the throngs of people stopping you when it was necessary to shake hands and kiss cheeks. Tiana understood just as you did, that as annoying as it was, these nights were extremely necessary. The better you fit into the crowd here, the more leverage you had to buck the system in your daily job. And you loved bucking the system.

By the time the cocktail hour had ended you had all but forgotten about Shawn and that godforsaken suit. It isn’t until Tiana and you head for your table for the dinner that you catch sight of a head of hair that didn't look nearly as good as when your fingers were tugging at it. He’s leaning on the chair of some other woman, blonder and thinner and so your opposite that it must give the man whiplash. But that’s fine. It’s not like you’re exclusive, not like you’re dating at all. You don’t care at all.

There’s a glass of champagne in your hand and you keep your body turned entirely the opposite way of his, so as to not intrude on his conversation. Tiana gives you a little helpless smile as if she isn’t sure whether this means anything to your or not. But, it doesn’t.

“I’m fine.” You assure her hand reaching to touch her arm. “Now don’t let me drink more than six of these.”

“Four. We said four sis.” She snorted.

You shrugged your shoulder. “Ti, we gotta let loose every now and again. We deserve it.”

“It’s my job to make sure you don’t regret it in the morning.” She noted.

“Nah, fuck that. You work practically twenty-four, seven for me, Ti. I know we’re best friends but like...take the night off. Drink. Eat. Relax. Find someone to go home with. You deserve it, okay? I’m serious.”

Her playful grin dipped into a genuine smile. You were ride or dies for a reason.

She leaned closer and settled your hair more perfectly along your shoulder as a guise to whisper in your ear.

“It’s okay if it bothers you, ya know? Like you’re entitled to your emotions.” She breathed.

Your eyes widened over her shoulder as the only person in the world with the ability to catch you slipping caught your ass like a fish out of water.

“I--It doesn’t.” You mumbled. “I’m not bothered at all.”

“Okay. That’s okay too. I just want you to know that if there’s anyone in the world you could maybe share that with if you were feeling it, that that would be me okay?”

You smiled softly. “I know. I do. Thank you. I’ll be fine okay? Don’t worry about me.”

“So what...I’m just supposed to go to the bar? Get a drink?” She giggled.

“Yes, bitch. Get several, okay? Put it on my tab. Stop worrying about me. You worry more than my mama does and she worries enough for all of us.”

You pulled her easily into your arms for a hug and a kiss before swatting her on her ass to get her to leave. Behind every successful Black Woman is always another Black Woman itching to see her succeed. Well sometimes success needs to come with some time off. What better night to give her some?

The problem arose that once you sent Tiana off to live her best life, you were still stuck at a table with a whole bunch of people you didn’t know. Except for Shawn. Who you could definitely feel staring at you as you took a sip of champagne. You flicked your hair like an elegant curtain over your shoulder, still facing away from him. Perhaps you had forgotten the kind of guy that he was, that taking no’s or subtleties weren’t exactly in his wheelhouse. It was hot in the bedroom, and annoyingly inconvenient everywhere else.

“So are we just pretending we don’t know each other?” He asked throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Just wanna know how I’m meant to play it.”

You rolled your eyes in the opposite of his direction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just sitting here waiting for this unseasoned ass meal to begin.”

He chuckled. “You are about as subtle as a bus to the forehead. You realize that, right?”

Unable to ignore the emotion that fluttered in your stomach, something that was unnamable to you even then, you turned to face him. His chair was directly next to yours, his arm draped casually against the back of your chair with ease. His hair was still just as perfect, if not a little more tugged into submission from the last time you saw him. He was grinning at you and eyeing your lips even now. As if it was a game that you’d lost before you’d even knew you were playing.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“I just couldn’t help but notice the glare you sent my way when I was talking to Natasha earlier.”

“Natasha.” You snorted. “Who the hell is Natasha?”

“Funny...She’s just an associate alright? Works for my dad.” He hummed, lips practically at your ear.

You barely sniffed in his direction. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Mhm. And why do you feel so inclined to assure me of that huh? Or is that you being subtle?”

He rolled his eyes at you, a playful little smirk upon his lips. You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him one bit. He drove you crazy.

The chatter of the room dimmed slightly as the food finally began to arrive to the tables. Shawn didn’t move his arm from around your chair. In fact as the waiter began to doll out plates to your table, he leaned in even more, let his lips rest against your ear like there was no one in the room but the two of you.

“Doesn’t quite matter who I talk to does it? No one’s my good little girl like you.” He whispered.

Your eyes fluttered over to him before looking aimlessly anywhere else. Your champagne glass. The silverware. The old man across from you who looked like he was wearing a toupee from the 70’s. The party moved seamlessly around the two of you, but you couldn’t help but look for eyes that might be on you. Shawn didn’t seem the least bit interested in doing anything besides driving you mad. He never seemed to be worried about much of anything. You both envied it and were annoyed by it. It didn’t stop your legs from crossing tighter, or your spine from straightening now did it?

“Not tonight.” You sighed. “Not here.”

He released a hum that you’d only ever heard in the bedroom. It was one of disapproval, one of challenge. He hated when he didn’t get his way, and this was you denying him on the thing he wanted most in that very moment. You.

“After. My place isn’t far.”

The waiter finally got to the two of you placing your dishes before you. Something that resembled a dry ass piece of chicken lay stagnant on your plate, with some weird dots of something that looked like baby food. It was enough to get your mind back on track and enough to get you more centered and less dick crazy.

“I--I can’t. Tiana and I are going to Burger King.” You shrugged.

You could see his eyes widen from your periphery giving you the time to ask the waiter for another drink. You might need it.

“Burger King...Well fuck it let’s go to Burger King then.”

It was your turn to look at him, wide eyed and confused.

“I’m sorry? What part of what I just said made you think your pasty ass was invited to my Burger King expedition?”

“I just figured we should take some time to build up our strength for some late night activities is all.”

Genuinely, how did you end up here? Where was the camera? When was the joke going to reveal itself?

“Honestly you must have a script writer or something. There is no way that shit actually comes out of your brain and through your mouth.”

The table around you was having a conversation, but it just didn’t seem to matter. Nothing really cut through when the two of you were together. Whether he was annoying you or turning you on, Shawn seemed to take up all your senses. He did it with ease and with swagger. Sometimes you didn’t even hate him for it. Sometimes you wished you hated him more.

“Have you ever thought about how much easier both of your lives would be if you argued with me less and just let me make you happy more often?” He asked.

You peered at him looking for a sign of him joking, waiting for him to say something smart, something that would make you want to slap him. But he didn’t. He just stared as if he genuinely wanted an answer. And when the time came you were helpless but to give it to him.

“Is that...is that what you’re concerned with? Making me happy?” You asked.

He stared at you for a second, eyes wide and sincere, before his shoulders dropped and he shrugged away whatever moment there might have been.

“‘Course I am darlin’. I’m concerned with keeping us both happy if you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on cutting through the food on your plate. It was barely edible. God you hated these dinners.

“There’s nothing wrong with talking to each other when we’re not naked, yn.” He mumbled between his own bites of dry chicken.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I know that.”

“Yea? So can I come to Burger King then?” He asked.

His jawline points to you and it is as infuriating as it is comforting. You’re not quite sure how he manages that. You just know that you don't quite hate each other. Never have. You actually had periods where you got along quite well. And perhaps that’s what made you the most nervous. This potential for the two of you to get along muddied up the waters slightly. What did that mean if you were two people who fucked and got along? What did it mean if you became friendly, became friends even? You weren’t sure, and it seemed like everything that the two of you might want to avoid. So definitely don’t invite him, right?

“W--Well… Fuck. I guess you can come. But if you at any point start fucking up the atmosphere, I will promptly drop your ass off at the subway.” You warned.

“Fine. It wouldn’t be the weirdest foreplay we’ve gotten up to anyway and you know it.”

“God, kill me now.”

***

When you told Tiana to go live her best life you weren’t quite sure what that meant. But, you knew it had not entailed bringing some random ass man on your friendship Burger King run! Granted he was sexy as hell, but like...not the point. And the fact that you showed up with Shawn tagging along was not to be mentioned, no matter how many eye rolls she sent in your direction. Rude.

“Can we go to your place tonight?” Shawn hummed moving your curtain of hair to tuck gently behind your ear.

You bit your lip, warm and fuzzy from your fifth glass of champagne, and stared at him.

“Mhm. How come though?”

“You sleep better when you’re not in new places. Not that my place is really new anymore, but you still sleep better at home.”

“H--How… How could you possibly know that?”

He shrugged. “You’re not invisible to the world just cause you think you are. I can see you.”

Your heart rate picked up in your chest. You stared at him harder trying to understand how it was possible for this man to do that. He seemed so young, so inexperienced (not in the bedroom of course). You had pegged him as man child, as someone completely out of touch with reality. How dare he see you for more than you had been ready to share. How dare he look deeper.

“I don’t even understand.” You mumbled. “What?”

“At my place you wake up before your alarm. Without fail, every morning. You’re an early bird as it is, but it’s literally like your body enters fight or flight mode or something. We don’t have to talk about it if it’s not what you want. Don’t get mad at me for noticing you though. I think we’re around each other a little bit too much for that now.”

His eyes are warm and gentle and his hand somehow ended up holding your wrist. Even his grasp in gentle. He’s not teasing you, or trying to make a joke. It’s just genuine. Simple. A moment between the two of you that might complicate things if you think hard enough. So, you don’t.

“Fine.” You huffed sliding down in your seat to lean your head on his shoulder. “You don’t like the lights off when you sleep though.”

He peers down at you from above this time, and you get a little stuck on the rosiness of his cheeks.

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow. “We sleep with the lights off every time.”

You shake your head playfully. “At your place you always keep the bathroom light on. At mine? You always change your clothes in my closet and then you leave the light on and the door cracked.”

He goes silent for a while.

You thought maybe you’d touched on a nerve that you weren’t meant to. But, you weren’t sure how to backtrack or talk to him about it. He had touched a nerve for you after all. One that you weren’t quite ready to share. Even with him.

His eyes stayed on his fingers as he played with his rings. You felt calm resting there against his shoulder, watching him. You thought you could fall asleep that way.

“How come you never shut it off?”

You opened your eyes, cheek resting on his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“The light. You never shut it off. You let me keep it on. How come?”

“Cause it seemed like you wanted it, seemed like it made you comfortable. Why wouldn’t I let you do something that makes you happy. It wasn’t affecting me none.”

Another stretch of silence fills the back seat of the car. Tianna and her man giggle to each other. He’s cute. You wonder how long they’ll last. Tianna was the queen of random ass long lasting relationships. She could date someone for two years after meeting them at a bar. She was kind of infectious that way. You thought that maybe keeping her working for you was stopping her from settling down, from moving on to a new phase in her life...She’d never admit it even if you asked.

“It’s just a thing with my mum.”

“What is?” You asked curiously popping back into the conversation.

“When I was a kid, she used to keep the light on at night so that I wouldn’t get scared. And when we moved out to California, away from Canada, our house was too big. My room was super far away from hers and so she would always keep it on so that I could come find her if I needed to. It’s silly but she’s back in Canada now, and when I go home to visit she still leaves it on. Guess I just got used to it.”

You felt warm against his side. Like maybe if he wrapped his arm around you you wouldn’t mind. Like maybe his lips could touch yours and it would be okay. And when he speaks you feel yourself relax and ease completely against his side. It’s not just the vulnerability. Part of it is the sound of his voice, soft and smooth against your ear. And part of it is his nerves, the way he twitches his fingers as if you might judge him. But you won’t. Couldn’t imagine it.

“That’s not silly.” You whispered against his neck. “That’s sweet. That’s what you deserve. We keep the light on, okay?”

He looked at you like he did at the dinner. Eyes soft and gentle and searching. It’s a loaded glance, but this time you don’t look away.

“Okay. thank you. And we can stay at yours whenever you know? I--I don’t mind.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Burger King is not prepared for the four of you to walk in at eleven o’clock at night, dressed to the tee and looking for food. But the second a chicken sandwich and an onion ring enter your hand nothing else matters. You are zen. You are in pleasure. You are in heaven. You are...horny?

“What in the hell is you lickin’ your lips at?” Tianna snorted as you two sat in a whole ass booth at burger king in five thousand dollar dresses. What a world.

Shawn was ordering you another chicken sandwhich after the first had not satisfied your hunger. But watching him stand at the register with his hands in his pockets, talking to the person ringing up their order was doing something for you that even you couldn’t explain.

“Ti’ I wanna suck his dick.” You admitted softly. “I wanna suck his dick so bad I can’t stand it.”

“Oh sweet jesus.”

You bit your lip as he turned to throw a smirk at you over his shoulder. That was all she wrote.

“I have to fuck him. Like now.” You shrugged. “ I don’t make the rules.”

“Bitch the hold that man’s dick has on you I will never understand. You cannot go fucking that boy in a Burger King bathroom. That is a level of ratchet-edy that I cannot allow as your best friend.”

You turned to your best friend in your time of need. Tianna had been there your whole life. From braces to training bras to stretch marks to breaks ups. She had seen you at your worst and at your best. And most certainly she had seen you at your horniest.

“Ti, here’s the thing. Sometimes I just need someone to rail me.” You offered in your loosened state. “Sometimes? I need to be bent over and taken for everything that I’ve got. Now I’m not picky about who does it as long as they do it well. The problem...and it is a very big problem, sis...is that no one has ever had the audacity to fuck me like that firm, chiseled little beanpole can.”

“Not beanpole, bitch.” She cackled.

You licked your lips in his direction and sighed the sigh of a woman who was in desperate need of dick. What a life.

“I’m serious. I think it’s the greatest, throw my back out and leave me crying , dick I’ve ever had.” You hummed. “I want him.”

“Well let’s get some more food in your drunk ass and then he can throw your back out a little later.”

It would never make sense to Tianna. It wasn’t that you were drunk at all. In fact, with some food in your system you felt pretty fine. It was just that you really liked the way that he made you feel. And he really liked the way that he made you feel. Shawn should’ve been selfish, should’ve been cocky and underwhelming and sucky in bed. But he wasn’t. He was just...good. He was good and whatever it was that the two of you had, you kind of liked it. What was wrong with that?

Tiana got up to go meet her mans, and when Shawn got back to the table, he set your food in front of you politely. Instead of focusing on the sandwich you looked up at him. And he looked back. His fingers gripped the back of your seat and you leaned forward until you were in each other’s space, until your chin butted softly against his stomach.

“What?” He chuckled fingers grazing your jaw.

Too soft. God he was so soft.

“Mmm. Want you to kiss me.”

His eyes widened slightly and his fingers stilled.

“You do? Right now?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He looked into your eyes and his teeth sunk gently into his bottom lip. Your lips parted and you leaned forward, your heart thumping unevenly in your chest. When he kissed you, you weren’t quite sure what to expect. You thought you’d grown used to his kiss, to the feel of his teeth and his tongue. But, nerves nestled deep in your gut as you weren’t sure what kind of kiss he might give you. When his fingers trailed along the back of your neck softly before gripping it tightly. Breath wooshed past your lips as he yanked you forward to kiss you hard, fast, and deep…in a Burger King.

You gasped lifting slightly out of your chair as his tongue snaked in. Your fingers found his hair and squeezed tight, squeezed desperately at everything that he was. Suddenly your whole body was on fire with want, with need. His hands burned at your hips and you fell into him. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. What he always did to you. God you hated him.

“Eat your chicken and let’s go.” He huffed barely pulling back to lick his lips.

Your eyes fluttered wantonly up at him. “W--What are we doing?”

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little mouth of yours. And then I’m gonna eat your pussy until you sob.”

He tapped lightly on your cheek before turning on his heel and heading straight for the door. If there was a chicken sandwich or a meteor, or God herself in that damn restaurant you was not finna notice.

“Bitch where is you going?!” Tiana called after you.

But there was no use. You were practically floating on air after that man like the dirty little whore you were. Thank you.

“Gotta go.” You called over your shoulder not wanting to miss the way his ass looked in those pants.

Outside the cool fall air felt like ice against your heated skin. The city was still alive and bustling, cars weaving in and out of traffic, horns honking, people booking it to their next location. Shawn stood at the edge of the sidewalk near the car that had driven you from the event, but made no move to get into the vehicle. As you stepped closer, your thighs still practically quivering, he turned to you and smiled before licking his lips with dark and clouded eyes. Fuck.

“Why aren’t you getting in the car?” You whined.

He reached for your hand to pull you closer. One second you were standing beside him and the next he had lifted you just slightly off of the ground until the soles of your shoes were nestled on top of his. His hands settled just below the curve of your ass and tugged your thighs so that your bodies were pressed together. It was some Cinderella, prince charming shit that you had never in your natural born life expected. Suddenly you were feeling far more intoxicated than the drinks had ever caused.

“I didn’t wanna leave Tianna stranded, so I called my driver. He never left the banquet; he’ll be here in fifteen.”

You nodded softly fingers resting on his shoulders at he held you against him.

“Should we...like wait inside then?”

He shook his head with a smirk that made your toes clench.

“No. I’d rather tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you the second I get you alone. We don’t need to go inside for that.”

You gulped. Bitch, honest to god gulped. You didn’t know anyone but Shaggy and Scooby was walking around gulping, but alas. What a fucking night.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

He sighed softly letting his thumb run over your cheek in soothing motions again. Then he wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close that may have felt like more than what it was had he not began to speak lowly into your ear.

“I’m gonna keep you in your panties all night.” He hummed. “I’m gonna eat you so good you’ll be aching for me to rip them off, but I won’t. I’m gonna lick you through them. I’m gonna make you cum against my face with them on. I’m gonna lick you clean with them on. I’m gonna drive you absolutely fucking wild if I can help it.”

You swore your knees gave out. But it didn’t matter because his fingers were digging deep into your hips to keep you upright. It wasn’t a sexual embrace. It was barely even romantic. This of course only made it hotter that he was talking to you in the manner that he was, that anyone might walk by at any moment and would have no idea the things he was saying it. You got wet just thinking about it.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked. “Gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Y--Yes. Yes, sir. I promise I’ll be so good for you. Only wanna be good for you.”

“Yea? Gonna let me slip my cock between this pretty lips?”

His thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Shit.”

He leaned forward to kiss your forehead another juxtaposition of emotions and actions that really were sending your body through the ringer. How was he real?

“I’m gonna fuck your throat until you beg me to stop.” He said calmly.

The car pulled up at that exact moment but you were frozen to your spot. Shawn was completely unbothered by the existential crisis that he’d left you in, and simply lifted your feet off of his to open the door. As if it was just a tuesday night or some shit. The audacity.

“Sweetheart let’s not keep Jake waiting, aye? It’s rude.” He murmured in regards to his driver.

Surely there had to be a level where this stopped. Surely, it was all getting to be too much. This man seemed to have you wrapped around his larged, perfectly skilled finger. Yes. Too much. Needs to stop. Like yesterday.

“Okay.” You sighed and shuffled your fine ass into the car.

Welp. Maybe another day.

***

“Are the ropes too tight?” He breathed against your neck, lips trailing delicately over the skin.

You hummed. “No. Feels good.”

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.”

He steps in front of you, his body long and lithe and taking up all of your senses. His thighs flex with ease and that’s before you even get to the sharp jut of hip that leads to a perfectly pointed V towards his dick. He’s already hard and already ready for you to make him feel good. Because that’s what it’s about. Mutual pleasure. You from giving and him from receiving, and within that giving you everything that you could ever ask for. Your thong is soaked just thinking about it.

“You’re not gonna be able to speak obviously, so I need you to tap me three times really quick if you want me to stop okay?” He asked eyes wide and sincere.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“No I’m serious. If it starts to hurt, I need you to stop me. If it start feels less than good at any point you tell me to back the fuck off. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Shawn, I understand.” You assured him.

He makes you practice it through the ropes around your wrist. Only once you’re comfortable and he’s comfortable does he step closer. Your wig now gone and in its place is your hair pulled tightly into a bun at the back of your head, there’s not much for him to grab onto. That doesn’t seem to bother Shawn in the slightest.. His fingers reach for your cheeks and jaw instead, gentle and playful at first and he tilts your head to the right angle for him. When his cock slips into his hand, and he lets the head rest between your lips, the sound that comes out of him is so tantalizing you nearly cum right there.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.” He groaned. “Go ahead and get it wet.”

Your tongue laves at the thick fleshiness of his head. He won’t let you move closer to get more, won’t push forward at all yet, so all you can use is your tongue. Surprisingly you love the power that it gives you. The power of being in control of his pleasure from beneath him. It’s an intricate play at the power dynamics that the two of you constantly played with. But, you like it. You like it a lot. You let the tip of your tongue trace lazily at his slit and notice the way his eyes flutter close at the feeling.

“Fuck. Y/n, yes. That’s it.”

He steps a little closer and finally lets his dick slip between your lips. Your tongue continues running beneath the underside, fingers wrapping instinctively around one of his ankles to anchor you more to this moment, this pleasure. The second he gives you the leeway, you wrap your lips tightly around him and suck. You weren’t kidding back at Burger King, you were more than prepared.

“Goddamn, your fucking mouth. You’ll be the death of me you know that?”

You slurped a little nosily at the amount of his length that he had given you, wanting to show your enthusiasm as an answer to his question. He steps a little closer now, and fills you more.

His hands come to rest on your head, one directly on top, and the other at the bottom of your jaw. Your eyes finally lock and his lips fall open in lust as he lets his cock slap against your tongue.

“I’m gonna start to move now. I’m gonna give you more and more until my whole dick is in your mouth. You know our safety signal right?”

You nod eagerly. Desperately. He makes you practice the signal again just in case. Three taps for STOP. Two for slow down a little. One for I’m so happy with this.

The first time he puts his whole dick in your mouth it isn’t even the feel of him that makes your entire body pur. Instead it’s the sound of him whining, His legs tremble and his eyes flutter shut. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. And you want more of it. Crave it even. So you let him fill you. You let your throat relax and your tongue flatten. You breathe through your nose and you don’t dare move as he slowly begins to move his hips. It has its intended effect on him, but even more than that is the effect it has on you. Your pussy throbs indecently as his balls tap your chin. The rops tighten as you stretch to lean closer, to be closer. His mouth parts and he moans for you. It’s euphoria.

“Jesus. Your mouth feel so damn good.” He grunted.

His thrusts got tighter, more pointed until the sound of your dick between your lips was lewdy and filthy. You welcome the spit that dripped from your mouth, yearned for the way it made him gasp and plead for you. Was he in control? Maybe. But who was really steering the pleasure? You were. And you fucking loved every second of it.

When he pulls from your throat you gasp and cough for breath, but not without seeing the way the tip of his cock was red and angry and leaking. It flapped against your lips and glistened in the light of his bedroom. Even when you were still fighting to breathe, you couldn’t help but want to suck it again.

“I--I’m not gonna fucking last.” He huffed squeezing at the base to stave off his orgasm.

You couldn’t help but pout at the way he got to touch himself while your fingers were tied. Couldn’t stand that your lips weren’t on him anymore.

“Don’t need to. Don’t want you to.” You whined. “Come back to me.”

The look that he gives you is one of heat and lust and something that’s maybe a bit tender. He cups your jaw again and bites his lip like he’s conflicted. About what you haven’t got a clue. Before you can think too much he’s thrusting himself into you again, but this time with more power, more recklessness. It burns slightly at your throat. The sounds get louder, more dirty, and so does the way he cries out for you. It’s desperate and needy and so fucked out and GOD why won’t he touch your pussy yet?!

“‘M gonna cum. Gonna cum down your throat.”

Your fingers gripped desperately at his calf, mouth stretch wide beyond your limits and he gagged you repeatedly with his cock. The fight for air was long and hard, but the way he trembled on his fucking toes for you was everything. It was power and it was beauty and it just made you want to be good for him. You just needed to please him. Simply because you could. Better than anyone fucking else could.

He cums with his fingers wrapped tightly around the back of your skull holding you against his crotch as he emptied himself into your throat. When he pulls out his head taps your lip a final time and each of you groan for different reasons. You for the air that fills your lungs, and him for the orgasm that seems to rock him to his very core.

“Shit. Shit y/n. That was amazing.” He whined.

You smile softly with wet eyes and a wet lips and a bit of a sore throat.

“I know.” You hum.

He rolled his eyes playfully at you and moves to his bedside table for the bottle of water he left for you there. Shawn quickly dropped to his knees along side you and lifted the water bottle to your lips to let the cool water trickle down your throat.

“Are you okay?” He checked. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No. Feel good. A little sore. But good.”

“Yea? Well you were amazing. You’re always amazing.”

It fills you with a lightbeam of happiness that is too much to deal with it. You felt like you were on cloud nine. It was one thing for you to know you were good, and another entirely for him to agree. Another thing entirely for him to praise you so endlessly and feverently. It made you feel so damn good.

He untied your wrists and rubbed his thumbs soothingly into your skin. His lips track down yours and it’s just as good as it was at Burger King, just as hunger filled and desperate.

“‘M gonna get you on the bed okay?” He mumbled against your mouth, still pressing heated kisses to your skin. “Your hands aren’t tied anymore so you can do whatever you want with them while I’m eating you out. You can tug on my hair. You can grab at me in whatever way you need. There’s just one thing you can’t do.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t push me away. I’m gonna make you cum. You’re gonna want me to stop. But I won’t. And I need you to be good for me. I need you to take it. Okay?”

“O--Okay.” You sighed, thighs squeezing together again. “Okay. I’ll be good.”

He smiled and gripped your chin. “My good girl. Come.”

There is nothing like the feeling of him between your legs. His body is warm and hard and heavy. He roots you to the bed and makes you feel more present than ever. His lips and tongue are hot against your already flushed skin as he kisses and nibbles his way along your thighs and stomach. With your hands now free to roam as they please you can’t seem to get enough of him. The softness of his curls between your fingers. The bulge of muscle at his shoulder blades. The dip in the back of his spine. And the entire time he’s doing just what he promised. His tongue soaked at the fabric of your thong, pushing it against your clit with languid little strokes. If you thought that your underwear being in the way would make it less intense, you couldn't have been more wrong. The fabric was silk and it added another texture against your skin as he sucked and prodded at you. Not even fifteen minutes later and your legs had found their way around his back, toes nudging that divet in the small of it again.

“S--Shawn.” you whined pitifully. “Please. More.”

He peered up from between your thighs with the grin of the devil. His lips were already red and swollen. You simply needed more contact.

“I’ll give you more when I’m ready honey. Be good for me.” He cooed.

He sucks a mark into the jut of your lip and runs his tongue there to soothe the flesh before he dives back in.

It’s absolutely torturous. From the foreplay of his dick down your throat, to the absolute hell of his teeth on your thighs, you were buzzing. The need that seem to build and throb from your core was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You’d never craved being touched, had never needed it this badly. But, here Shawn was constantly pulling emotions and feelings that no one had ever been capable of getting out of you.

He slurped loudly at your pussy through your thong, constantly flicking the fabric to tap anxiously at your clit. When your orgasm started to build, your fingers fisted into his hair, thighs clenched. You pushed closer to his mouth and cried out widely for him, for his tongue, for anything that meant he might take you over the edge. And over the edge you went.

“Fuck. Ohmygod--fuck yea!”

He let you grind your pussy against his face. Let you ride that high like you rode his mouth. And when the orgasm began to ebb and your clit throbbed again, he leaned onto his elbows and grabbed at your ass to pull you even closer against his face. He wasn’t done. He’d barely even fucking started.

“SHAWN!”

He tugged the thong out of the way and licked you clean, ran his tongue along every crevice and nerve ending. When he traces the very tip of your clit with the tip of his tongue your legs close like venice fly trap around his head. Your fingers thrust into his hair and you let out a moan that you would be embarrassed of in broad daylight. There’s just no way in hell he’s got you cumming again this fast.

He got up onto his knees, fingers digging deep into your thighs and wrestled you down onto his expensive ass bed. By the time he comes up for air, your legs were literally trembling and you heart soared so fast in your ears that it was all you could hear.

“This pussy was fucking made for me.” He grunted licking his lips. “Come here.”

“W--wait, I’m so sensitive.”

He paused, fingers still gripping you just tightly enough.

“Color?”

You bit your lip. “Green.”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded softly and leaned back onto your elbows as he made his way between your thighs once again. He tugged your thigh over his shoulder and settled onto his side to make himself more comfortable. Your eyes met from between your legs as he pressed a kiss to one of your pussy lips.

“You make me wait again and I’ll slap your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow okay?” He murmured.

Your fingers reached instinctively for his hair now, tightening into the curls as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck. Okay. Okay, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Mmmm. Good girl.” He hummed against your core.

He starts to lick and suckle at you again ignoring the ways that your legs shake at this point. His hands are dancing on your thighs and gripping at the flesh so good it makes you squirm all the more. It really does just feel too good to be true. His tongue is like a sinful miracle and you’ve been fooling around long enough for him to know your body inside and out. From the way he bumps your clit with his nose, to the way his tongue traces around the skin in tight little circles. Every part of it feels infinitely special. When his fingers slip inside of you and curve towards the darkest part of your being, your hips start to flail again. He only smiles up at you in satisfaction.

“So sensitive for me. Wanna make you cum again. Can you cum for me sweetheart?”

Your back arched hips pushing closer and closer towards him as he filled you up and rubbed roughly at your gspot.

“Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god, Shawn! Please. Please make me cum.”

He pushed at the thigh that was over your shoulder and spread you further so that his fingers could do their magic. He rubbed deeper and deeper into you, fingers curving so that your body lost all control. This orgasm starts in your belly, warm and firey before it spread through every nerve ending. When you cum it’s like an eruption. Your screams reach new octaves. The squelching sound of Shawn’s plunging fingers meeting the thick, sticky liquid from your heat. It’s all too much. Too too much.

“HOLY FUCK!”

He pulled his fingers from within you and let your body drop back down to the bed spread. Your heart raced in your chest and your legs felt like jello. You could barely breathe and Shawn thought it was the funniest shit in the world. He peered down at you with hungry eyes and the cockiest fucking grin in the world and your pussy had the audacity to twitch again. What a whore.

He climbed onto your body, thighs bracketing either side of your torso. His dick was red and leaking again, your body literally shivering as he thrust lazily against your stomach.

“‘M gonna cum on your tits.” He whimpered fisting himself in his palm again. “Is that okay?”

He pumped at his shaft, curls flopping beautifully along his forehead with every thrust of his hips. Shawn was a dream. A sweaty, trembling dream that made your heart race and your toes curl. In the moment with his thighs tenses on either side of you, and his lips parted and swollen, denial was not an option. You ached for his pleasure, for his reward. You craved it.

“Yes. Yes!”

Your hands grasped at the flesh of your boobs lifting them to be pressed together. Your nipples stood erect and rock hard, and this only seemed to spur him on even more. The best part of Shawn’s position above you was the ability to watch him fall apart. Your dom, for all of his charisma and perfected authority, crumbled when he was near orgasm. It was in those few seconds that you got to see him in his most vulnerable state. Whiny and red faced and just as overwhelmed as you. And god did you love every second of it.

He shoved up on his knees and groaned so low that you felt it in your own chest. The head of his cock barely poked out from his fist as he fell over the finish line, cum spurting out in thick long ropes along your body. He gasped and heaved in elation hunching in on himself too. You reached without thinking to take his cock into your mouth, cleaning the last remnants of his orgasm with your tongue. When you pulled back with a nice plop for added measure, he collapsed beside you on the bed. Both of you were absolutely done for after a total of five orgasms split between the two of you. There was simply nothing else for you to give.

“F--Five minutes.” He gasped from beside you. “Five minutes and I’ll go get the washcloth.”

It seemed like a fair trade off. You couldn’t even feel your pussy to let him clean you up after all. What was another five minutes?

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@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @lifeoftheparty74

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#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x black reader #Shawn mendes x black woman #Shawn mendes x black oc #dom Shawn #dom!shawn #sub reader #sub!reader

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nicole-lynne · 5 years

Text

Who Makes You Happy

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Description: Stiles realizes (more like told) who he truly should be with.

You slapped your case study onto the table in front of your partner with enthusiasm, a bright red 99/100 circled at the top.

“Hah! Eat it, Stilinksi.” Stiles groaned in defeat as he looked down at his 98/100. “I believe you now owe me pizza and a movie of my choice, sucker.”

Stiles grinned up at you as you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet and shaking his shoulders with excitement. Nodding his head in acceptance, he shoved his case study into his bag hastily and gestured for you to lead the way out of the classroom.

“You better pick something good. I don’t think I can handle another night of romantic comedies.” He teased and nudged your shoulder a couple times. You glanced up at him for a fraction of a second and your cheeks started to heat up.

“I was kind of thinking A Walk to Remember,” Stiles puffed up slightly at the pick before you continued, “but then I decided on Return of the Jedi.” You smiled widely as the irritation disappeared and his face brightened.

“You are a saint!” He exclaimed and threw his arm over your shoulder lazily as you walked out of the FBI building into the blazing afternoon.

You let yourself lean into him for a moment, enjoying how intoxicating he smelled and how good his body felt against yours. Just as fast as it had happened, he had pulled away from you and started to walk backwards to look at you.

“I just want to know how you cheated to get that score. There’s no way you could have beat me.” Stiles joked, loving to see how worked up you got. You opened your mouth to protest when he winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him, an annoyed smirk playing at the edge of your lips.

Your eyes flickered over to him, “you’re gonna fall on your ass if you keep walking like that.” The moment the words left your lips, Stiles’ feet tangled together and he was falling backwards, limbs flailing everywhere.

You giggled as you watched him lay on the ground, his eyes closed, contemplating if that had really just happened.

“Well, I’m not one to say I told you so but...”

“Oh please, your catchphrase is ‘I told you so’.” Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle at the look of amusement on your face. “What can I say, I guess I fell for you.”

Your heart fluttered and your eyes connected with his golden eyes for a fraction of a second too long. Butterflies were swarming your stomach from the way he was watching you, but the reminder of his girlfriend itched at the back of your mind and you cleared your throat awkwardly. Reaching a hand out, you pulled Stiles to his feet and promptly dropped the hold. He sidestepped and you could feel the tension in the noticeable space between your bodies.

“Um, so I was thinking pizza for dinner. Does that sound good or were you wanting something different?” You asked in an attempt to get back to normal.

“Yes, I’ve been craving pizza all week. I need that sweet melty cheese to relieve my stress of this hell week.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing the tight muscles that were growing.

Thrilled at the choice, you fist pumped the air, “I was hoping you’d say that. I had this dream last night that I got turned into a chicken dumpling and a bunch of giants were trying to dunk me in soy sauce. I just don’t think I could eat one in good conscious tonight.” You shivered at the memory of your dream.

Stiles threw his head back and started cracking up, “I can see how that might be slightly terrifying, but I can picture you as a dumpling and I think you’d be totally adorable.” You scrunched your face at him, pretending to be embarrassed at his sentiment instead of dwelling on the fact that the guy you had a massive crush on just called you adorable.

Thankfully, you spotted your dorm building in the distance and could put all your focus on that, instead of the handsome man babbling about something he’d read next to you. As you reached the building, you both flashed your badges at the front door guard and waved at a few other friends in the common room.

“Let me just change out of the monkey suit and we can head to your room.” Stiles said over his shoulder to you as he loosened his necktie.

You nodded in response as you watched his back muscles tense and release through his shirt. He glanced back at you over his shoulder and you jumped slightly realizing you hadn’t answered out loud.

“Uh yea-yes,” you cleared your throat again, “yes that would be magnificent.”

Stiles raised his eyebrow with confusion but laughed it off before pulling his key out and opening his room. You shook your head trying to get your mind back in the right space.

You kept your eyes focused on the swirl pattern of the carpet, following in behind him, when you slammed face first into his back. You looked up at him standing frozen in his spot and then you peaked around his body to see a gorgeous redhead lounging on his bed.

“Lyds? What are you doing here?” Stiles burst into a flurry of movement, stepping forward and tugging the girl into a tight hug. Your chest filled with melancholy and you averted your stare to the window. “Wow, hey, Y/N this is Lydia, my-my girlfriend. And Lydia, this is Y/N, she’s uh my partner in class.” Stiles chuckled nervously.

Immediately, you put on a happy face and smiled at the girl. “It’s really great to meet you, Stiles talks about you all the time.”

Lydia flashed a small smile and Stiles let out another nervous snicker. “Well thanks, it’s nice to meet you too. Stiles said you’re the best partner he could have hoped for and a good friend too.” Your tummy flipped.

“So what are you doing here, Lyds?” Stiles interrupted, slinking an arm around her waist.

“I just thought I’d surprise you since it was the weekend and I was already going to be in town for a Math Theory Workshop. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve really had a chance to talk since you’ve been so busy.”

Slowly, you took step after step backwards towards the door. It had been a long week and you weren’t planning on spending the whole evening watching Stiles cuddle with his supermodel girlfriend. You weren’t even sure you could handle ten more minutes of being in the same room as her without bursting into an embarrassing amount of tears.

When the door was just a step out of reach, you said, “I’d better let you two have some alone time, but it was really nice to meet you officially, Lydia.” You waved your hand once in their direction as they both snapped their attention to you. “I guess I’ll just see you on Monday, Stilinksi. I’ve got to rest up for another full week of kicking your ass.” You taunted before shooting out the door and down the hallway like a bullet.

A hush fell over the room as Lydia and Stiles both stared at the spot you had stood previously.

“Well she seems nice.” Lydia quipped before slipping out of Stiles’ hold and starting to dig through her bag.

Stiles’ eyes darted to his girlfriend standing in his dorm room. He should be ecstatic but instead he was feeling a little discontent that he wouldn’t be spending the night watching Star Wars with you like he’d been looking forward to all week.

“Yeah, uh she’s awesome...” He trailed off as Lydia kept rummaging through her things, pulling things-his things-out and setting them to the side. “Are you looking for something specific there, Lyds?”

Lydia hooked a loose strand of hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear with frustration before standing up and looking at her boyfriend. She took a second to appreciate the man before her. He still looked exactly like the same boy who had fallen in love with her all those years ago. But now, he had this air of maturity to him. She could see how much more sure of himself that he was. It was also impossible for her to ignore that he just didn’t look at her the same way anymore.

They had both known that you were lying through your teeth when you said Stiles talked about Lydia all the time. When the truth was, he barely mentioned her when he was with all of his classmates, especially you, and he just didn’t make the time to call her like he used to.

She sighed, “I’m giving you back your stuff, Sti.”

Stiles’ face blanched and his eyes went wide. “Um can I ask why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not wrong, per say...” Lydia trailed off. She wanted to be heartbroken or devastated but it just felt like the end of a chapter. She took a step towards him and slipped her hand into his.

“So what is it?” Stiles looked a little defeated and she wanted to caress his mole-speckled cheek. But that wouldn’t do either of them any good, so she just squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“You know you’re in love with her, right?”

Stiles didn’t even have to ask to know exactly who she was talking about. “Since when?”

“Since forever. It’s why I’m breaking up with you.”

He knew he should be devastated, but truthfully, he just felt relief. Lydia watched the emotions pass over his face and she knew it had been the right decision. She truly loved Stiles but it wasn’t the same as when they had first started this. She knew she would also support him in everything, but he was her best friend, not her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry that it happened this way, Lyds. You know, I never meant for this to happen. Hell, I’ve been planning on marrying you since third grade.”

Lydia gave him a sad smile at the thought of what may have been in another life. “Sti, I want you to marry someone you’re actually in love with.”

Stiles tugged her hand lightly and engulfed her in a hug. “You’ve always been one of the good ones. I have no doubt you’re gonna go far in life, kid.” He said into her curly red hair.

“Yeah yeah, now stop talking and go get the girl.” Lydia pushed him away graciously and Stiles gracelessly stumbled toward door. “Uh Sti, I think you’re forgetting something.” She hollered before he could leave.

He whirled around and looked at her, rolling his eyes when he remembered, he leapt forward and pecked a kiss on her cheek, “thanks, Lyds.”

“No, you spaz, you need to change into something better than you regular uniform. She sees you in that all the time.”

Stiles snapped his fingers in agreeance before yanking off his white button up and digging through his drawers, random pieces of clothing flying in every direction. Finally, he found his lucky flannel and flung his arms through the arm holes. He spun around and vanished out into the hallway. Lydia let out another heavy sigh before turning to start gathering the rest of his things for when he returned.

Heavy footsteps thudded against the floor as he raced to your door. He had been to your room a handful of times for movie nights or study sessions and he had the location burned into his brain.

Your door shone like a beacon at the end of the hallway and he slowed to a stop in front of it. Praying for courage to show up, he rapped his knuckles on your door softly. There were faint sounds of you shuffling around and he thought he could barely make out sniffling. He was so nervous and it felt like a swarm of snakes was slithering around in his stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open and your tear-stained face peaked out from the dark.Stiles watched shock pass over your face while you hurried to wipe away a few stray tears that were left.

“Wh-what,” your voice cracked, “what are you doing here, Stiles?”

“We had a movie night planned...”

“Yeah, that sort of got canceled when your girlfriend showed up.” You snapped, a little harsher than intended.

Stiles hovered a little closer to the door, “can I just come in? Please, Y/N?” He begged when you crossed your arms over your chest.

You searched his eyes, the urge to give in to him overtaking your need to be left alone and cry in peace. Stiles’ determination wavered and he was beginning to think you really wouldn’t let him in when you nodded and stepped back to give him room.

You sniffed again and dragged yourself to sit on the edge of your bed. Stiles took a minute to take in your form. You’d already changed into your gray Federal Bureau of Investigation tshirt and your ratty navy pajama shorts. He was amazed at how beautiful and cozy you looked to him, but his heart squeezed at your puffy eyes that were avoiding looking at him.

He plopped down next to you, “why are you crying? What happened? I just saw you a little while ago.”

“It’s nothing, Stiles,” You croaked, “just...why are you here? You should be spending as much time with Lydia as possible.”

Stiles twiddled his thumbs for a second, “We broke up.”

“You what?” You sat up straight, completely forgetting your own pain. “Oh my god, are you okay? What happened? You guys seemed so excited to see each other.”

“We were, are, glad to see each other. Look, I really love Lydia, but not the way that I should love my girlfriend.” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Stiles cautiously picked up your hand that had been resting between your bodies.

“Lydia knew that I...liked someone else the way that I should like her. And she thought that I deserved to be with the person who makes me happy.”

Blood rushed behind your ears. The sensation of Stiles hand in yours was causing your breath to catch but you were trying to focus on the words he was saying to you.

“Do you like someone in our class?” You all but shouted at him, interrupting his sentence.

Stiles’ head bowed as he chuckled to himself. “Yeah, you might even know her.” He winked cheekily and you gulped heavy with nerves.

“Stiles...”

“Why were you crying?” Stiles softly interrupted you.

You looked down to your clasped hands, the words felt heavy on your tongue. “Because the guy that I like has...had a girlfriend.”

You kept your eyes trained on your bedspread, the possibility of dying from embarrassment crossed your mind the longer he stayed silent. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath trying to gain the courage to look at him.

You mustered up all the bravery you could and opened your eyes to glance up at Stiles, just to find him grinning at you like he’d won the lottery. Heat flushed your cheeks and you lost the battle at suppressing a smile.

“You like me?” Stiles asked timidly.

“How could I not?” You blurted out, tired of holding back the truth. “You’re hilarious and intelligent, you always know what to say or do to make my day better, you challenge me to be a better agent and person. And you’re extremely attractive without even trying.”

It was Stiles’ turn to flush at the compliments you were doting on him. The words suddenly registered in your mind and you fell back on your pillows in exasperation, fear that you might have just freaked him out. But your heart leapt into your throat as you felt Stiles lean over your body, his chest pressed against yours. You gripped his biceps firmly, secretly admiring how wonderful they felt, all while trying to ground yourself as the room started spinning around you.

His face was inches away from yours and his minty breath was covering your face, fogging every one of your intelligent thoughts. You were desperate to hear what he was going to say next.

“So you think I’m attractive?” He purred out, trying to be cute.

You huffed grumpily and pushed his chest, but he slipped his arms underneath your body so that you couldn’t move him off of you. In reality, you didn’t really want him to get off you but you couldn’t let him know that.

“Did you just come here to mock me, Stilinksi?” Your lips pursed into a pout.

“Not at all.” He whispered, inching forward slow enough to give you time to pull away. You didn’t want to pull away, you never wanted this moment to end.

Finally, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours timidly. The moment your lips connected, it lit a fire in the pit of your belly and you slipped your arms over his shoulders, all hesitation gone.

Every time he pushed, you pulled. When you twisted, he turned. You two moved in sync with each other and you suddenly knew how it was supposed to feel with every other person you’d ever been with.

The overwhelming need for air took over your senses and you broke apart from him. Stiles’ eyes were still closed with his lips puckered and you had to giggle at how wonderfully silly he looked. Slowly his eyelids lifted and he gave you a sheepish grin like he was completely dazed. Sweetly, you brushed your lips against his one more time.

“Did you just come here to kiss me, Stilinski?” You asked playfully.

Stiles grazed his nose against yours, enjoying every moment of having you in his arms. “No, I came here to watch Star Wars with the girl I like. Kissing you was just an added bonus.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #fluff #fanfiction #stiles #stiles imagine #nicole-lynnefics #stiles needs love too #lydia martin #initial stiles x lydia #stilinski #writing #hello world

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some-mad-lunge · 5 years

Text

Seb Saves The Day... Again.

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what this is. I blame @peoplediedrobert and all the talk of Seb getting his Dads back together after Robert leaves (sob). Anyway this is what happened and I had to get it out.

Besides, who doesn’t think Seb can fix everything?

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

Seb is five. He likes when people ask how old he is because he can spread his fingers high to show them. Daddy Aaron always smacks their palms together when he answers the question, then does something mushy like rubs Seb’shair or squeezes him tight in a hug. Seb lets him though, cause Daddy Aaron needs lots of hugs.

Some days Nana picks him up from school and they go to the park with his uncle, which is funny because his uncle is three. Seb got him big Lego blocks for his party. Seb ate too much cake and got a tummy ache. He got to sleep in Daddy Aaron’s big bed that night because he was sick.

Anyway, he likes to tell people that his uncle is still a baby just to see the weird looks they give him. Adults are funny.

Sometimes it’s Aunt Vic and his cousin who show up at the school grounds. His cousin is also three and doesn’t do much other than grab at Seb and chase him around the swings. She also likes to kiss his cheek a lot, which is gross, but Aunt Vic coos everytime so he lets her drool on him. Seb likes to make his Aunt Vic happy.

His favourite is when Daddy Aaron is there when the bell rings. He usually has on his important flashy vest that all the other boys think is so cool (because it is) and he is always so happy to see Seb. Daddy Aaron’s smile makes all the bad things go away and he lifts Seb so high in the air.

“You’re the most important person in my world little man.” Daddy Aaron says it all the time.

“The whole wide world?” Seb loves this game, it makes him feel warm and safe.

“And beyond.”

One thing never changes. Everytime they come home Seb has to hang his coat and backpack on his hook, put his shoes in his cubby and then go tell Daddy Robert about his day. The framed photo sits in the same spot on the shelf, always waiting for him.

“Daddy Robert look what I made. It’s a car.” He holds the picture up to show him. He made the car blue, pressed hard on the crayon so it‘s nice and bright, it’s Daddy Robert’s favourite colour. “Daddy Aaron said we can put in on the fridge forever.”

Forever is a word Daddy Aaron says a lot.

“You have to eat your greens kid so you can be big and strong and live forever.” But he only eats what Daddy Aaron makes him though, cause they’re gross.

“You can’t pout forever Seb, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Seb hates no but Daddy Aaron doesn’t say it THAT often.

“Your Daddy Robert is always with you, forever and ever, watching you and loving you from far far away.” Daddy Aaron always whispers it, even when he doesn’t think Seb is awake.

Seb likes forever, because it never ever ends. Aunt Liv once said that love is forever and not a lot of things are, so love is special. Seb wonders what other things are forever, but love seems good enough for now.

On the weekends there is no school or work and that’s Seb’s favourite. Sometimes they go swimming or have pajama days when they make forts out of sheets and couch cushions. Daddy Aaron makes pancakes and on special occasions puts chocolate in them. Seb loves chocolate.

“Sugar hound, just like your Daddy Robert.”

Daddy Aaron always says Seb is just like Daddy Robert. They giggle the same, and snore the same. They hug the same. Seb likes being like Daddy Robert, though he wishes Daddy Aaron didn’t look sad about it sometimes.

One time Seb was annoyed at his video game, the bad guys were winning and that’s not fair. He huffed and crossed his arms, scowled. Daddy Aaron swooped him into a hug. He tried to hide that he was crying but Seb knew, he always does. He just squeezed Daddy Aaron tight, hugs fix a lot of things.

“You looked just like your Daddy Robert then, I forget sometimes that he’s not here.” Daddy Aaron hugged him tight. “Okay, try again and this time I’ll help you yeah.”

They beat the bad guys together and had ice cream to celebrate.

Seb listens a lot. He likes the sound of rain and when Daddy Aaron uses bad words when they drive somewhere. His favourite one is shite. Him and Isaac whisper it to each other and then giggle like lunatics. That’s what Cain calls them, lunatics. Seb knows it’s a good thing because Cain always gives them cookies when he says it.

Sometimes Seb listens when he’s not supposed to.

He didn’t mean to do the “ear dropping” but he was sitting behind the sofa at Nana’s house, hiding from Isaac (Seb always wins hide and seek but Isaac always wins tag) and he could hear Daddy Aaron crying.

“I know how long it’s been Mum, but I’m not ready.”

“Luv, you’re never going to be ready. Robert’s gone. Forever. You need to accept that at some point.” Nana used her “wash your hands” voice and it made Seb shudder. You had to scrub good before tea, she always checks.

“You think I don’t know that? That I have to spend forever without my husband? Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Seb scampered out of the room quickly after that because someone is in trouble when family uses their loud voices, which is a lot. Like all the time. Last time it was Marlon, the time before that Charity. Adults get in trouble more than kids do, which makes Seb want to stay a kid forever.

Daddy Aaron seemed sad after that day and Seb gave him lots of hugs. He even gave him Mr. Giraffe to snuggle. That always makes Seb feel better. Daddy Aaron just smiled and told him he loved Seb the most.

Daddy Aaron was still sad though. Seb always sees. He doesn’t smile like the other parents. Seb can’t explain it but Daddy Aaron’s smile isn’t always a real smile. Seb doesn’t know how to fix it but he wants to try.

Seb tells Daddy Robert everything, even things he never tells Daddy Aaron. He’ll take the photo off the shelf, hug it close and carry it up the stairs to his room. He’s always very careful and today is important, so he props Daddy Robert between his two best teddies on his bed. He walks around when he talks, adults always do that when it’s important.

“Daddy Robert, can you come back from far far away? I think you need to.” Seb has never asked Daddy Robert for anything before. He’s never needed anything before but Seb’s hugs just weren’t working this time. “I’ll be so good, I promise.” He slid onto his bed after that, just whispered how Daddy Aaron needed them both to take care of him. Seb was only five, and still just a kid, some things adults had to do.

He must have fallen asleep because when he woke up he was under the covers, it was morning and Daddy Robert was sitting on the table beside his bed. Daddy Aaron never said anything but he made pancakes with lots of chocolate chips and let Seb stay home from school. They played video games and had pizza for tea, and he got lots of snuggles.

Seb started doing it everyday. He’d hang his coat and backpack, tuck away his shoes and tell Daddy Robert about what happened at school. Then he’d whisper really low, “Please come back,” and kiss the glass for good measure.

Seb never told anyone, not even Isaac, and he told Isaac everything. No, this was a secret just between them and Seb knew Daddy Robert wouldn’t let him down. Love is the most important thing, Daddy Aaron said so, and love is forever and ever.

Sure, Daddy Robert was dead and that’s forever too, but love, that wins. Seb may only be five but he’s wise for his age, everyone says so.

He’s just patient and good, though he has a “smart mouth” and occasionally he gets sent to his room. Not for long though, and Daddy Aaron never stays mad at him. “I love you too much for your own good.” Daddy Aaron laughs when he says it. See, love beats everything.

Seb just waits and waits, and then waits some more. He knows it will happen but he never tells, whispers to Daddy Robert that he will give him the best hug when he comes home. He knows it will work. Seb gives the best hugs.

**********

It’s almost a bit of an Emmerdale legend by the time Seb is a teenager. Some people say it was a bright sunny day, some say it was overcast but others don’t mention the weather at all. Those that witnessed it talk mostly about how time seemed to stand still. Everything went quiet after Sebastian Sugden-Dingle leapt from his swing, shouted “Daddy Robert, I knew you’d come home!” and ran at breakneck speed towards the man that he hadn’t seen in the flesh since he was barely two years old. A man who was very much supposed to be dead.

They remembered how Robert kneeled down as he wrapped Seb in his arms, held on fiercely as tears ran down his face. They remembered how Aaron stood stock still, frozen in place. They remembered how Seb took Robert’s hand and pulled him towards Aaron, yammering away like it was no big deal. As if a man coming back from the dead happened everyday. As if he’d wished it into existence.

They remembered the way Aaron touched Robert’s face, how his legs finally gave out and Robert caught him before he hit the ground. They remembered how everyone watched as Seb hugged himself between them, sitting on the grass, and made a face when the husbands kissed. (Seb still makes that face when his dad’s kiss, only now he adds an eye roll and an annoyed sigh.)

There was a lot of drama that happened in the weeks and months that followed. Dingles yelling and Sugdens crying and eventually another wedding where Seb gave a speech that made everyone laugh. He took it all very seriously as he talked about love being forever and Nana cried a whole bunch.

If you asked teenage Seb now about that day, he’ll tell you he doesn’t remember it too well. He just shrugs like it’s no big deal and keeps the secret from his dads, from his siblings and even from Isaac. But actually he remembers two things very clearly, ingrained in his memory, like snapshots that hang in his mind.

First is the ice cream he ate covered in chocolate sauce with sprinkles as he swung his legs at the kitchen table, his dad’s holding hands beside him, crying and laughing. Seb didn’t know you could do both at the same time.

The second, and this was the most important one to Seb, the one he recalls as his proudest moment. Because the day one father came back from the dead was the day Seb saw the other father smile so wide it reached his eyes. It lit up his face like a Christmas tree, like the sun and stars in the sky. It was the first time Seb ever saw his Dad truly happy, and knew for a fact that love, the real kind, that never dies. All Seb had to do was ask.

But yeah, the ice cream was really good.

#seb white #aaron dingle #robert sugden #robron fic #I legit don't know what this is #but I love a happy ending #shauna's robron fic #ficlet fan fiction

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nais-nook · 4 years

Text

Elijah (3)

(Hey there! You may be liking/reblogging something without links to new pieces I may have written for this character, just letting you know in case you’re interested in reading more!)

My dad (love him to bits but damn) wanted me to make a three point turn before even learning the biting point properly. Thank god my mama was in the car to talk some sense into him.

also jojo references at the end because im a weeb

~***~

(1), (2)

Summary: You come home grumpy after a terrible driving lesson, and Elijah reminds you that things will work out. Eventually.

Pairing: Male Spider Kin x Gender Neutral Reader.

Words: 1328.

You couldn't turn the key fast enough, giving the lock a well needed jiggle before the door swung open, only to be slammed behind you. The hinges screeched, but you paid no mind to their protests as you slumped against the door. The embarrassment you were drowning in moments ago dissipated, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

Your husband's sonorous voice piped up from the kitchen. “(Y/n)? That you?”

“Eli, who else has the key to our house?”

“... Doesn't your sister have a spare?”

“Right. Forgot about that.” A hollow thud echoed in the narrow hall as your head hit the solid wood. You slid down its surface rather gracelessly, settling as a pile on the floor.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You sound kind of -” Elijah rounded the corner, letting loose a gasp when he saw you huddled up against the door. “Oh, honey, what's wrong?”

“I’m just tired.” He tilted his head, eyes focused on you. All six of his hands were fidgeting, his brows knitted together as he looked at you with tentative concern. Yet he did not say anything. “Eli, you gonna tell me what you're thinking or what?”

“Dinners ready. Come on, let's get some good food into your tummy.”

You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your shoes. “My legs kinda hurt.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a strong boy then, isn’t it?”

The faint smell of his earthy cologne clinging to his shirt enveloped you as Elijah gathered you into his arms. You heard the crinkle of your jacket as it was hung, accompanied by the thump of your boots being dropped back onto the shoe rack. You thanked him quietly, splaying your fingers over his neck, his steady pulse and warmth relaxing you. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you snuggled closer.

“It’s not a problem, love. However, you being sad and tired is.”

“I never said I was sad.”

“Maybe not sad, but definitely frustrated.”

“I never said I was frustrated.”

“When you get frustrated you do this thing where you kinda flare your nostrils and squish your mouth into a squiggly line and try to avoid looking at me like you’re doing now and -”

“Okay I get it, I’m very bad at hiding my emotions, you don’t need to tell me, jeez!”

“But that’s the thing, I don’t want you to hide your emotions.” A mattress creaked below you, and immediately you knew you were in your bedroom. “Are you going to tell me what the problem is? I know it’s got something to do with the driving lesson you just had. You were really chipper before you left the house for it.”

His fingers found their way into your hair, gently brushing through the stands, occasionally scratching your scalp tenderly. “It was just… bad.”

“How bad is ‘bad’?”

“Like I stalled multiple times.”

He laughed, the rise and fall of his chest making your head bob. “Oh, sweetheart, I thought something actually bad had happened. That’s normal! You think I managed to pull off without stalling in the beginning? It took me ages before the whole biting point thing clicked, and then I had to get used to it in different cars.”

“I know, I know I won’t get it straight away, but my inferiority complex won’t let me live it down.”

“I understand honey, really, I do,” Elijah cooed, placing a kiss on your forehead, the curve of his smile soft against your skin.

“I also slammed the breaks. And I’m pretty sure I’m damaging the driving instructor's clutch, but I don’t know.”

“Is that so?” He stroked your face, coaxing your eyes open.

“Hi.”

“Hello sweetie. Care to explain why your legs hurt?”

“I was, uh - I was clenching my leg muscles. Like real bad.”

“Aw, my poor baby.”

“Oh, hush,” you groaned, rolling over and smothering your face into a pillow, the mortification of reliving the moment more than you could handle. His fingers ghosted along your legs, and you rolled over into his lap.

“Want me to rub your legs for you?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine, I’m being kinda dramatic honestly.”

“You, dramatic?” He raised a brow. “Never.”

“Right answer.”

Elijah hummed, twirling your hair around his deft fingers. “I know it’s a part of your process to have a breakdown before you’re fine, but can you skip the falling apart bit and just get to the part where you get super confident and happy and all?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here sweetheart.” Elijah effortlessly lifted you into his arms yet again, and just as easily strode he to the far wall, flicking on the bright white fairy lights as he pulled you further into his chest. “Tell me what these are.”

“A bunch of picture pegs and fairy lights?” You ran your fingers over a glossy picture of Elijah standing awkwardly with your family and smiled fondly. The picture was taken soon after your first date, and you knew from the way he tried so hard to garner the approval of your family that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“Well, yes, but do you remember when you refused to hang these? I remember it clearly.” His hand ran up and down your spine soothingly. “You had taken a whole bunch of photos using that lovely polaroid camera of yours, and then you were in a slump for days after I suggested you hung them up. And why was that?”

“... Because they weren’t good enough to hang.”

“No, because you thought they weren’t good enough to hang, there’s a difference. But look at them now.”

“What about them?”

“They’re all hanging, pretty and proud. Kinda like you.”

“Very funny.” You shoved a hand into his chest, little force behind it.

“How about this,” he delicately pulls a photo from the string of lights and lay it on your face. After a giggle you took a peek. On its glossy surface you were splayed out on a floor. You recognised it as your old dorm room when you were at university. Papers were scattered everywhere, like a wind had whipped through the room and you were bundled up in your favourite blanket. Scoffing, you reached over and pinned it back up.

“The last day of final year exams.”

“Precisely, and how many times did you try to give up, only to get off your butt and try again?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Exactly. Look at this one - house hunting. We had finally signed all the paperwork. Again, you thought you’d never make it through, and again you did. And you’re always stronger when you pull through on the other side. You’ll get through this, no problem. And even if you don’t -”

“W-woah -”

You were expertly flipped, your legs tucked around his slender waist and your arms guided around his neck. Elijah leaned in, nose touching yours for a moment before he placed a quick peck on your lips. “I’m here. And I’ll try my damndest to help you through this, just like you do with me and all my troubles. Yeah?”

“... Yeah.”

“That’s my baby. Now, it’s probably a stellar idea to go down and eat the lasagne I made before it goes stone cold.”

You nuzzled into the spot just below his ear and mumbled, “Can you carry me?”

“What’s the magic word?” he asked, his tone more than a little teasing. Despite his question he began to take leisurely strides towards the kitchen.

“Please?”

“Actually, it was Kakyoin, but please works too.”

“How in the world -”

“Don’t you mean ‘za warudo’ -”

“- was I supposed to guess that?”

Elijah shrugged with a broad grin, your whole body moving with him. “Luck I guess.”

“... Hey Elijah, how many more lessons do you think it’ll take before I get the hang of driving?”

“Oh, god, um, like twenty?”

“Ugh.”

#nais nook #Elijah #(3)#Spider boy #monster husband #reader insert #exophilia #listen kaka i can barely remember to pull up the handbrake #WDYM SHIFT GEARS I DONT UNDERSTAND #lmao still love you though #drabble #also SOBS #KAKYOIN #I'll never forgive the japanese #specifically Araki #big oof

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

Text

over my skin (where you left your own mark), part 1 | audrey tindall & dara ann lynch

words: 2,604

warning: a bit nsfw-ish? just in case.

summary: series of drabbles about how Audrey got to know, one day at a time, little by little, one of the two women she wished to meet in every one of her lives. Part 1: when Audrey learnt about Dara's tattoos; why they were such important part of her and also how she felt their bond start to deepen.

n/a: I wanted to dwell in their friendship and part of relationship through little drabbles, taking in count I see Dara and Audrey eventually becoming good friends. They are too cute for my own safety and also for Billie’s, that’s all I’m saying.

"When did you say you got those?" Audrey couldn't help but put her hand in the back of her neck, feeling a bit of shame, while she tried to follow with her eyes the way Dara's breathings made her body move softly.

"Mhm when I was...eighteen or so," Dara looked down where she was pulling the side of her old t-shirt up, showing the whole area of her left ribs. The ink there, four names engraved with heavy gothic letters, was something to be afraid of. "First I got my parents, then I got my abuelita when she passed away and a couple years ago, my thirty or thirty-one birthday, I got my abuelo too. He even came with me to the studio! It was awesome, he stayed with us here and all for a few days."

Audrey couldn't help but hide her wince at the remark of Dara's age, but she was really interested in the story behind the woman's tattooed skin.

Billie did have a little something in her ankle, done in a drunk night at college, but her...girlfriend - and Audrey refused to address Dara otherwise, because she was Billie's girlfriend - was full of surprises. She had seen from time to time glimpses of her tattooed tanned skin, but many times they saw each other bare there wasn't much light to dwell on contemplate them. Audrey knew for a fact Billie knew each of them by hand, taking in count how skilled she was in tracing them with quick fingers, but she never got to ask or see them all.

It didn't help that she always felt...shy around the younger woman, so it was a blast the only fact that they were doing this at all. Dara didn't look at her weirdly, her brown eyes lightening up by the only mention of the request, and she had asked right away if it was okay to know about Audrey's tattoos too. That was the part that made her feel ashamed, taking in count the first tattoos Dara showed her had such strong meaning, because her tattoos were kinda... meaningless as to speak.

"You really love your family, don't you darling?" Audrey said seeing how, by the inked names, there were some kind of...triangles? scales? tattooed there. Those were enough to go around her left rib towards her back, and there was a change between black and red here and there.

"My family is the most important thing for me, that's why I have them all close," Dara smiled, tracing with her own fingers those little colored triangles, tickling herself in the process and chuckling. She signaled then the first row, five black scales. "My siblings and I," Dara then moved to another four, another two, and a solitary one. "My cousins," and then signaled to the red scales that conformed the middle gapes in between them. "And my nephews and nieces...I still hope to have a couple more of those, so they have their spots reserved." And then she laughed openly, letting her shirt down to take her lemonade glass from the table.

Kids. Audrey had met them a couple times, taking in count Dahlia also had insisted to bring her over to their childhood home. And it made her feel self conscious all the time, she thought to herself while moving her tea a bit before taking a sip. But now it wasn't time to dwell on that, because she was pretty content by spending some time with Billie's girl.

"And which more do you have?" Audrey asked as soon as she left the teacup over the table and crossed her arms over there too, resting her cheek in her own forearm.

The afternoon was pretty calm, an early spring one, so they were in Billie and Dara's apartment chilling with the kitchen's window open. They never...interacted much if Billie wasn't around, but they had been trying to connect a bit more as of lately because they felt closer after two, almost three, years of being in this relationship they three shared.

And Audrey felt lucky that Dara didn't rejected her when she suggested to have some gathering only the two of them, taking in count Billie would work till late that day.

"You never saw 'em fully, right," Dara said, lifting her short a bit, to show Audrey the start of the bunch of daffodils she had tattooed in her left thigh. "Each one of them, for every time I lost something close to who I am." and it was a mere whisper coming out from her lips while she traced those flowers that seemed to fade a bit when you looked at them in separate groups. "I got one every now and then, so it's an ongoing project. When I met Billie, I had three...now there are seven."

Those flowers were beautiful on their own, without color, and Audrey couldn't help but trace them with her fingertips lightly and making Dara giggle because she tickled her. The meaning of those resonated with her, almost scaring her because of the weight of Dara’s words. How many things did she lose while being with Billie? Audrey was scared to ask that, so she only focused on describing with her eyes the arc that the flowers made from her hip to almost the inside of her thigh. It also helped her to not focus in the state of Dara’s right thigh, which, almost in the same area in which her tattoo mirrored, had the scars from her car accident three years ago. It wasn’t only the cut from where she had surgery, but also where her skin was scratched from when she rolled in the pavement.

Billie had told her about that and Audrey never saw the medium that...wasted and scared and sad. She had promised her to never tell Dara, so she was never going to ask directly either.

“As much as I love them, I won’t like for you to get more,” Audrey joked and Dara laughed, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair, taking a drag of her cigarette. Another little detail that Audrey found fun about the couple it was that they both looked flawless smoking, even when they smoke different kinds of cigarettes. “If that means you lose more things about yourself, then Hell to the no.”

“You’re too sweet with me, darling,” it was then when Audrey heard Dara’s true voice, not the a bit-all-mighty one she was used to hear, watching how she stretched her arm and another tattoo peeked from her sleeve, right in her left biceps, to get more lemonade.

“And what about that?” Audrey signaled, her index pocking where the start of the back of a woman started.

Dara looked down to her arm and then she smiled fondly at that particular tattoo. It was a representation of one card of her deck, the only one she never got in a reading in almost fifteen years that she was doing this. Her grandmother always said she already was the change, that she was everything and nothing at the same time, that Dara proved to be what the rest needed unknowingly. She always felt there, with what her Mamá Alicia said, that it was a really selfish point of view...but one that made sense in a really scary way.

"My...lucky charm, my lucky card," she took advantage to lace her fingers with Audrey's, not seeing how the blonde woman blushed ever so softly with the gesture, and brought their hands towards the skin. The tattoo pictured an almost naked woman clad with a purple cloth and an eagle, a bull, a lion and some kind of human around her. She almost looked like a virgin of some sorts, taking in count various details. "I never got it in my readings to other people or in the few times I got myself a reading"

"You really have to excuse me with this, but I literally have no idea about...reading cards or things like that," Audrey put that face people always had when they learnt what Dara did for a living most of the time. She didn't believe in those kind of things, but she respected it as far as Dara knew, like she did with Billie's line of work as well.

"It's okay," Dara laughed again, clear, but didn't let go of Audrey's hand and placing their still held hands against her tummy, making the older woman to come near her. "This is the card called 'the World'. My abuelita had a card for every one of her children and well, I got that one for myself."

Audrey hummed in response, pensive, and then her eyes fixed for a few seconds in Dara's stomach. She was sure, ninety nine percent if not hundred percent, there was one more under that shirt. Not only because she caught a glimpse of it when Dara showed her the ones in her ribs, but because Billie's hands were always wandering around that area of her girlfriend's body if they weren't touching her thighs.

Dara followed Audrey's gaze until it was obvious where she was looking, making her smile softly because she knew the next and last one really important in her body.

The eye of Horus in the back of her neck was already explained, the one that always gave her protection, and all the tiny meaningless ones - the moon in her left shoulder; the three lines that circled her right forearm near her elbow; the crosses in the inside of her wrists; the little star behind her left ear; and the one she shared with her siblings, four clear dots with a full fifth in the middle, under her left collarbone) were ready to go too along the biggest ones in her body. But that one in particular, the one that defined her breasts from the end of her sternum, was one that always found weird to explain.

Dara had got it before meeting Billie, around the time she still was with her previous partner. She had always loved the idea to get a tattoo there, taking in count how sensitive and erogenous part of her body was, but she also had her doubts about what to get. Until one day she looked up some geometric designs and thought about what made her feel attracted to those hard lines and dots...and then found about what the meaning of lotus was after seeing how many of those forms reminded her of the flower.

The area was basically the very own core of her being, what she truly was and not what the rest made her be or how she was seen by others. Dara knew from where she came from, what was she capable of and, most importantly, why she was still there in this existence in spite of everything that transcended in her life.

Audrey, who didn't know why Dara was so distracted suddenly, didn't move at all in case her companion said something. But what surprised her the most was that Dara's unique reaction was to press their laced hands further to her tummy and slip them under her shirt, going up until Audrey felt how the woman opened their hands so Audrey's was left pressing her stomach.

"I think one day you'll learn about this one," Dara's skin was warm and when Audrey ran her thumb lightly over there, she bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. "Not even Billie knows what it means...so maybe you two find out together." And then she chuckled shyly, letting Audrey touch to her heart content the noticeable ink lines while she lifted her shirt enough for the actress to see the design and some of Dara's stretch marks along the way. "Or I keep it in secret for the rest of my life, who knows."

That last movement was enough to fry Audrey's last bits of sanity and curiosity about Dara's tattoos.

Not only because they were really close, not because Dara's warmth was drawing her in nor because Dara was clearly not wearing bra at all - Audrey found that if she was at home, the younger woman refused to wear it. Now there was something else that was working her up like no tomorrow and she was pretty sure all the touching was the culprit of it.

And, of course, not even Billie coming home in that moment made Audrey to back out of the situation.

Her eyes were firm in holding Dara's gaze, curious and clear yet it was obvious something darker and more intense was building up in her. Audrey pressed softly over the ink, over Dara's stomach, and that made her moan low and soft only for her to hear.

"Oh, what were you two doing without me?" Billie joked somewhere behind Audrey. "Did I arrived on time?"

"I mean," Dara still held Audrey's gaze while taking a last drag of her cigarette and finally standing up, making the actress' hand to fall from its place in her skin. "I think one of you is totally up for it," she started to say while moving towards the master bedroom slowly, taking in count she wasn't using her cane, until she made a halt and took her shirt off. Showing her bare back to the two blonde women in the room, Dara barely looked at them over her shoulder. "And I'm out of my shirt already...so what do you think honey?"

Audrey, even in her hypnotized haze, knew that Dara had Billie hypnotized as well. She didn't need to see the future or read cards or feelings to notice how Billie was probably already worked up just by the way Dara did that. And Audrey hummed softly when her best friend placed her hand over her nape, caressing the short hair there with her thumb, leaning to place a kiss in her pulse point and another one near her ear to whisper there ever so softly.

"Why don't you two warm yourselves up while I get a shower, pumpkin?"

Billie didn't need to say more, because Audrey only needed that little permission to follow the woman that in that moment was making her lose fucking goddamned mind.

Of course the tattoo lesson was one of the most interesting things they did together, Audrey managed to think upon seeing Dara's almost fully naked figure - except her panties, everything was off - the second she put her foot in the room. But as she managed to get some of the sweetest moans from her lover thanks to that, her lips and tongue kissing and tracing invisible paths in her tanned and inked skin, Audrey thought that it got her closer to the unapproachable figure that Dara had meant for her.

It was a good change, she thought when Dara pinned her down to the bed and kissed her hot skin ever so slow, the shower running already in the background.

Maybe a change that would made them finally close that distance both had since the day they three started all of this, having the blonde in the shower as their only common thing between them.

But for the moment Audrey was pretty much content that Dara was letting her have her way around her body, even when her lips still were forbidden to touch, indulging finally in the knowledge of why Billie loved to kiss her girlfriend's stomach so much.

It truly made her whimper in the cutest way Audrey ever heard in her life...cutest and hottest, to say the least.

#audrey tindall & original character #audrey tindall #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard #ahs roanoke #ahs murder house #audrey tindall x billie dean howard x original character #american horror story #original character #over my skin series

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bellatriestowritesometimes · 5 years

Text

Baby 101 Milestones

Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: A suggestion by a lovely anon to write kind of a second part to Baby 101 though this would still make sense without reading it I think? I used a lot of google when writing this so I’m sorry if some things are inaccurate. I also decided to just post the whole thing instead of splitting it into multiple parts since I took overly long (I’m sorry!) to actually post this, I hope that’s okay anon!

(GIF not mine, credits to creator)

This is the anon that requested ’Baby 101’ I absolutely loved it! Would you maybe consider making a few more parts of it? Like just milestones throughout the pregnancy and then having the baby? It’d be so cute to see Spencer’s reaction to seeing her bump for the first time, feeling the baby kick for the first time, telling his team, finding out the gender, etc. I honestly see him leaving the BAU to be with his wife and his baby. Just the really soft stuff. I get it if you don't want to! I’m continuing my rambling, but if you do the few parts of the story could you make it so they have a daughter?

“Was that JJ?” Spencer asked as he held the car door open for you.

“Yeah she was just checking in, asking how the appointment went,” you replied once Spencer himself got in the car.

It was week 9 of your pregnancy; you and Spencer had just left a dating scan appointment that told you the baby should be due around late October.

“Have you told anyone else on your team about the baby?” You questioned as your hands rubbed over your currently non-existent bump.

“JJ is the only one that knows. I thought we agreed to wait until you’re out of the first trimester?”

“Yeah we did, but you also work with a bunch of profilers so I was just curious to know if any of them had figured it out.” You enveloped your hand into Spencer’s free one as he drove the both of you home.

“That’s very true, maybe they’re not as good as they think they are,” Spencer brought your knuckles to his lips. “Thought about any ways of telling everyone?”

“No nothing in particular, maybe I’ll just give baby books to everyone else too,” you both smiled at the memory of you first telling Spencer.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a girl,” you said as you pulled out the ultrasound image.

“You think?” Spencer asked whilst glancing at the picture, careful not to take his eyes off the road for too long.

“Yeah, I think we’re going to have a baby girl.”

Every day you were faced with a new challenge. Your body was changing and so were your hormones. There were days where you couldn’t find yourself to be any happier and there were days where the tiniest of things like losing your hairbrush almost brought you to tears. It didn’t help that Spencer was away on cases but when he was it gave you some time to take in all the changes that were about to happen.

When Spencer was home he spent his time helping you out as much as he could. You weren’t always in the best of moods from the increased headaches, the constant tiredness and with how nauseous you were feeling but Spencer was ever so patient, trying his best to comfort you- even if that meant making numerous late night trips to the grocery store to satisfy your cravings.

By week 14 you were way out of your first trimester, into the second one. You and Spencer were both busy with work and coming up with an idea on a way of telling everyone about the exciting news slipped your mind until a certain morning.

You were getting ready, slipping on a pair of trousers and a blouse that didn’t quite seem to fit anymore. Your focus shifted to your bump that was starting to finally show.

Triumphantly you marched into the kitchen, overjoyed with what you had seen, “Spence look!” You beamed.

Your husbands head was buried in yet another baby book- this one giving you the best tips on how to ‘soothe a crying baby’.

“What love?” He replied, slowly dragging his eyes away from the page he was reading to your exposed stomach,

“You’re showing,” Spencer smiled lovingly, closing the book and spinning the bar stool to the side where you walked over and stood in-between his legs.

“I suppose if anybody were to see me now they’d be able to figure it out themselves..”

“Very true. How about a simple dinner tonight if we don’t get called out for a case?” Spencer proposed as he placed a gentle kiss on your bare stomach.

You smiled at the gesture, “Dinner sounds perfect. We’ll have to arrange a flight out to Vegas soon too.”

“I’m sure Hotch will spare me a weekend away, what about your family?”

“I think a phone call will have to do until they’re able to come down here,” you thought out loud.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as he followed you back into the bedroom so you could finish getting ready.

How are you feeling was a question that slipped out of Spencer multiple times a day. He always wanted to make sure that you were okay, making it his mission to make you feel comfortable during the first few weeks of your pregnancy. This was all just as new to him as it were to you and you appreciated the lengths he went to make you smile.

“I think my morning sickness is pretty much gone and my boobs are a lot less sore,” you said as you rummaged through draws, trying to find something that’ll fit.

“That’s great to here,” Spencer chuckled at your bluntness and you were met with a grin slapped across his face.

Luckily Spencer and the team didn’t have a case come up later that day which meant the plan for dinner was set. You had managed to fit into a dress that hugged your small bump that you were ever so desperate to show off. It was finally starting to settle in that you and Spencer were going to be parents. There was still quite a journey ahead of you both, but the bump was a major milestone that you and Spencer couldn’t stop gushing about.

You had a certain glow on you. Your hair felt thicker and your waist was slowly disappearing, ready for the baby to grow. You felt good. Sexy even, as you admired the beauty of pregnancy.

“You look amazing,” Spencer cooed as his hands snaked around your waist from behind and sat comfortably on your bump.

“Thank you,” you hummed as you looked at him through the mirror that you were standing in front of. This was your family. Your very tiny family and you couldn’t have wished for anything more.

The ride to the small restaurant was more nerve racking than you thought it would be. Spencer’s team was an important part of his life and you knew that they wanted the best for him.

Spencer helped you out of the car and you both, hand in hand made your way into the restaurant where a young woman had shown you to the table that was filled with the familiar faces of Spencer’s team.

JJ had given you a knowing smile as she waited for the rest of the team to catch on as you and Spencer continued to approach the table.

Penelope was the first to practically shout it out as tears spilled out of her eyes. You and Spencer both were then quickly bombarded with hugs and many ‘congratulations’ from everybody at the table.

“Wait- so you knew this whole time?” Emily asked JJ as you recalled the story of you finding out to everyone else.

“I think she knew before even I did,” you laughed,

“Wow this is amazing, I’m so incredibly happy for you both and I cannot wait to see your beautiful family grow,” Emily swooned as she gave you a side hug and everybody else agreed, expressing their love and happiness for you both.

By week 19 it was time for your anomaly scan that you hoped would also tell you the gender of the baby. You had started to feel slight shifting and fluttering sensations in your very noticeable bump, though there were no kicks just yet.

Along with the exiting parts of pregnancy came the not so exciting parts that consisted of leg cramps and you and Spencer having to share a bed with a giant body pillow.

Spencer was conversating with the nurse as she dimmed the lights and applied a cold gel substance onto your tummy.

“Can the baby hear sounds yet?” You asked as you adjusted your shirt that was now pushed up.

“During the 18th week babies should start to hear sound, but only by week 24 they become more sensitive and might even respond to noises, though little indentations on the sides of the baby’s neck appear as the ears and continue to form on both the inside and outside as early as week 9.... Sorry.” Spencer was quick to say as he took in the shocked expression of the nurse’s face.

“No no, you go ahead dad,” she smiled “It’s great to see all the research you’ve done.”

The nurse then began explaining what you were seeing on the screen, telling you both that the baby was healthy. You were able to listen to the heartbeat and Spencer’s hand made its way into yours.

“…And it looks like you’ll be having a girl.” The middle aged woman informed you as she clicked away on her keyboard.

“Wow.. a baby girl,” Spencer whispered.

“Yup, by the looks of it a healthy baby girl,” she replied.

“We can now finally start to think of names,” you mused as you walked through the door into the apartment.

“You mean you’d rather pick out a name than continue to refer to our daughter as the ‘Halloween baby’?”

“Spencer you were the only one that called her that,” you stated and playfully rolled your eyes at the grin that was smacked across his face.

Since your due date was in late October, Spencer thought it would be fitting to refer to the baby as the ‘Halloween baby’- much to your annoyance, till you found out the gender.

“I’ve always liked the name Autumn,” you suggested as you grabbed a glass and filled it up with water, “And it so happens to link to the horrendous nickname you’ve given her.”

“…Autumn,” He repeated, “I like it.”

“Spence wake up,” you spoke softly as you nudged his shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” Spencer responded almost immediately, concern clear in his voice.

“Everything's fine, give me your hand,” you asked as you lifted your oversized shirt up to reveal your stomach.

“…Can you feel her?” you questioned as you guided Spencer’s hand towards the right side of your tummy where you were feeling the soft kicks.

Spencer’s eyes lit up which told you he could.

“Hi precious,” he murmured, “You’ve been keeping your mother awake all night haven’t you?”

23 weeks in and this was the first time Spencer was able to feel the baby kick. You felt her be the most active during the night, most likely because that’s when you were the most still, but Spencer could never feel her.

“This is incredible,” he said with a slight quiver.

“Isn’t she?” you smiled and began playing with Spencer’s hair whilst his own hands were eager to continue feeling the baby’s movements.

By the third trimester your sleep was pretty much non existent. It was hard getting comfortable and you were becoming very forgetful. Baby Autumn on the other hand- you and Spencer both had been calling her that since your suggestion, had gotten herself into a schedule of when you’d feel her, whether it was after you ate or when Spencer read to you both.

As the weeks continued panic started to settle in. You couldn’t help but feel unprepared, it felt as though there was still so much to do.

Something that did put your mind at ease was the antenatal appointment which told you that everything was going as planned along with the antenatal classes that you attended with Spencer.

You felt as though ‘text book’ wise you were prepared; your brain was constantly occupied, whether it was by asking Spencer questions or breaking down the information you received during the classes. Knowledge wise you felt as though you couldn’t have done any more research, especially with a literal genius as your husband, but starting a family was much more than ‘text book’ knowledge and that’s what worried you.

As you got closer to your due date, your mother had decided to stay with you when Spencer was out on cases. He was reluctant to leave you, but you had insisted that there was no need for the both of you to be out of work and that you had plenty of help from everyone around you.

One thing you did miss about Spencer when he was away were his incredible massages. His hands worked magic in relieving the stress and tension, plus that was the closest thing to intimacy you both had as 80% of the time you felt breathless.

You were 39 weeks into your pregnancy and Spencer was on a case that was taking longer than usual. You had spoken to him as much as you could throughout the day, informing him about the light contractions you were feeling, though that was somewhat normal as your due date approached.

Towards the evening you were exchanging more frequent phone calls between Spencer and your midwife as your contractions became more noticeable and circulated around your lower back and sides.

When the contractions moved from 10 to 5 minutes apart and grew stronger you decided to head to the hospital with your mom. The journey itself wasn’t a long one but about 5 minutes in of you getting into the car you felt something wet.

“…Mom I’ve either just peed myself or my water has just broke,” you almost yelled in between breaths as the pain started again.

“It’s okay darling we’re only seconds away, just try focusing on your breathing,” your mother was trying her best to calm you down.

Your phone started ringing, the caller ID telling you that it was Penelope.

“Penelope! Tell me that Spencer is on his way home? His phone went straight to voicemail.”

“Yes he is peaches, he should be landing soon. Are you on your way to the hospital?”

“Yeah we’re almost there, we also think that her water just broke,” your mom answered for you since you were too focused on the pain.

“Oh god, I’m on my way I’ll meet you both there!” and with that Garcia hung up.

Time was passing excruciatingly slow as you waited for Spencer to get to the hospital. The contractions had become longer and happened more frequently as you felt the urge to push at the peak of each one.

The second Spencer came into the room immediate relief washed over you.

“Hi love, I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” Spencer comforted you as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, “How are you feeling- how dilated is she?” Spencer asked the midwife that was guiding you through this.

“Around 7 centimetres but she’s been having the urge to push during her contractions so I think we might be ready.” she calmly explained as she got everything together.

Spencer knew all the right things to say as you began pushing. His hand never left yours whilst his other free one wiped away at the sweat on your face. He encouraged you throughout the entire thing. Reminding you to breathe, telling you how great you were doing, offering you sips of water and helping sit you up when you had slipped down the bed.

There were a lot of tears as Spencer cut his daughter’s umbilical cord and passed her over to you. You both took in her features; she had soft hazel eyes after her dad and she defiantly had your nose.

“She’s beautiful,” Spencer cooed as Autumn held onto his finger, “You did so great Y/N.”

“We both did great, I love you Spence.”

Spencer was pretty much a natural at being a dad. Him and Autumn had become inseparable over the few weeks he had taken off work. As each day passed you both learnt something new and your bond as a family grew stronger.

It was an early morning and one Spencer dreaded. It was time to head back to the BAU.

You were holding Autumn as you finished feeding her, gently swaying from side to side.

“Is she asleep?” Spencer asked as he stood in the doorway of the nursery.

“Just about. You ready to head back to work?” you questioned softly.

“No, you know I’m not… I don’t want to leave either of you.”

“We can take care of ourselves can’t we Autumn?” you replied in one of those annoying baby voices that you hated yourself for doing.

“Besides you’re only a call or a drive away babe- I think they’re really starting to miss you back there, I get at least two pictures a day from Morgan of your empty desk.”

“But that’s the thing I’m not always going to be a drive away. I don’t know when a case is going to come up or even how long it’ll take…I still feel guilty for almost missing you giving birth.” Spencer said lowly.

You sighed, “You know if it were my choice I’d want you here at all times, but I also know that that’s not realistic. If you really want to quit the BAU, or work in a different department with different hours- whatever the case may be, no pun intended, you need to do it because you want to.”

“I do want to,” he replied after a moment of silence, “This is all that I’ve ever wanted, a family. I want to watch my daughter grow up, to be there when she takes her first steps or when she says her first words. I want to be able to do that freely and to do it with you. I don’t want to take any more risks with my job that could get in the way of those things.”

“…Then I want that too Spence.”

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